The Bunny Girl’s Mortification

Suriya’s room still held that same warm, red hue.

The furnishings, having stood for an untold number of years, remained exquisitely elegant, exuding a noble and ancient style.

Yet, among all the refined décor in this room, the most graceful sight was undoubtedly Suriya herself, reclining gracefully against the edge of the bed.

Suriya was indeed very tall, even taller than Faein.

Her long, flowing golden hair imparted an air of opulent beauty.

At this moment, she wore a thin, dark plum-colored silk nightgown.

Her two long, shapely, jade-white legs stretched out perfectly straight.

My appearance did not surprise her in the least.

She simply regarded me as she would any ordinary maid.

“What is this! So, even in a bunny-ear outfit, you’re merely passable. Not very cute at all; I’ve wasted my anticipation,” Suriya remarked casually, scrutinizing me.

“Eh?” Her words instantly made me feel utterly mortified.

At that moment, I was clad in the bunny girl outfit Suriya had provided—a costume seemingly reserved for casino看板娘s. It was a black, form-fitting leotard, paired with black fishnet stockings, a tiny bow tie around my neck, and a pair of white, floppy bunny ears atop my head!

To complement the bunny ears, I had even tied my hair into a single ponytail.

A fluffy white tail was sewn onto the back of the leotard, and my feet were adorned with red high heels. I had even painstakingly applied bright red nail polish.

Normally, I detested such vibrant nail polish, but this casino看板娘 attire was meant to be somewhat garish. Thus, I had endured my personal aesthetic objections to dress this way!

‘After all that effort, all that humiliation, meticulously dressing up to see you, and you just tell me I’m not cute?’

‘If I’m not cute, why call me here in the first place!’

“Is that so…” I forced myself to suppress my anger. “Since you don’t like it, may I return?”

“Oh, that won’t do! A maid, even if not cute, must still work. Come here and give me a massage; I’m utterly exhausted after a day of fighting,” Suriya said languidly.

“…”

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you coming?”

“Wh-where am I not cute?!” I felt a profound sense of injustice. I had already set aside my princess-like demeanor, abandoned my preferences, and come here to indulge her. Why was she treating me this way? “Tell me! Where am I not cute! I wore exactly what you asked, and the clothes fit perfectly! Look! There’s even a tail on the back!”

With that, I turned around to show her.

“Oh, there really is a tail! Come here and let me pinch it, little bunny.”

“Who’s a little bunny! I’m not suited for a bunny girl outfit at all! Aren’t these meant for tall, shapely, mature women to wear! Did you force me into this just to mock me?” Saying this, I sat down on the carpet, hugging my knees, and buried my head in them, ignoring her.

“Pfft—!” Suriya covered her mouth and burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

Suriya stood up, lazily slipped on her slippers, and walked over to me. The silky nightgown brushed against my skin, making me tingle.

Suriya leaned close to my ear, exhaling softly: “Little princess, you truly are easily teased. I was just joking with you. You’re very cute, you know.”

For some reason, despite my deep resentment, hearing her words made my nose sting, and I began to sob.

“There, there, little princess,” Suriya gently tugged one of my white bunny ears. “You are the cutest! Sister Suriya loves you best in this outfit. Don’t cry anymore, okay?”

When a girl cries, comforting them only makes it worse. The more she tried to console me, the more aggrieved I felt!

“Waaah—!” I wailed loudly.

Of course, this was purely the instinct of this female body. My male will, at such a moment, could only backfire if I tried to restrain it, perhaps.

“Little princess, you are truly headstrong. You were so reluctant when I asked you to dress as a little bunny to see me, and now that you’re here, you throw a tantrum when I say you’re not cute. Tell me, do you like or dislike wearing the bunny-ear outfit?”

“Even if I liked it, I wouldn’t want you to see me in it! Wuwuwu…”

“Such princess syndrome! Can’t even take a simple comment! Does Sister need to punish you?” Suriya’s tone grew stern.

“Fine! Go ahead and punish me! Do you want to hit me or scold me? It’s clear you’ve never truly regarded me as your princess anyway! Are you genuinely loyal to me, or do you have some ulterior motive? If you want leadership of this dungeon, just take it! I don’t care! Farewell!” I stood up and turned to leave.

“*Snap!*” Suriya seized my arm. Although I recalled my strength should be that of an eighth-level princess, I specialized primarily in magic. In terms of physical power, I was only equivalent to a second-level warrior. Suriya, however, was an eighth-level Sword Princess and a physically formidable noble vampire; I was no match for her.

She yanked me towards her, and I felt an immediate dizzying sensation. A rich, feminine scent, mingled with perfume, assailed my nostrils. I accidentally collided with her ample chest, so soft that I felt I sank deep into it. But before I could properly savor that smooth, yielding sensation, Suriya cupped my chin, lifting my face.

Then, I saw a breathtakingly beautiful face pressing down on me, a pair of luscious, moist red lips, exhaling warm breath, drawing ever closer, blurring from my vision. And then, my lips were met by that warm, humid touch.

“No!” In that precise moment, I used my last shred of rationality to activate teleportation. I vanished from her embrace in an instant, for I felt that if I didn’t flee now, I might lose the will to ever muster the courage to escape.

When I reappeared within the dungeon, I felt my body lighten, landing on a large white bed.

The room’s furnishings were simple yet elegant, exuding an inexplicable charm belonging to its owner. A familiar, intoxicating scent permeated the air.

In my desperation, I had only thought of escaping, without time to consider where to teleport. Subconsciously, I had arrived at this place, both familiar and strange.

One of the room’s doors opened, letting out tendrils of steam.

Senior Sister Faein emerged from the doorway, her long, glistening black hair damp, wrapped in a white bath towel.

“Coolie?” Senior Sister Faein said, her face slightly flushed, a hint of surprise in her voice.

I gently covered my lips, my eyes shimmering with an indescribable watery brilliance, as I gazed at Senior Sister Faein.