Succubus Prison

Satella's Jealousy

[Level: Lv.78]

"Sister?" El was both surprised and delighted. "You've broken through, and your power has increased again."

Satella gave her brother a deep look, her expression belatedly embarrassed. She said coquettishly, "Well, you shameless little slut, were you just verbally disciplining your sister? I'll punish you properly."

Her delicate body wrapped around him with both tenderness and passion, her arms around her brother's neck, and she raised one of her jade-like legs, using the crook of her thigh to clamp down on his member, gently stroking it.

Al gasped, “To be honest, it’s not entirely just verbal sparring, sister. I have really fantasized about abandoning my dignity and becoming a male prostitute to provide sexual services to powerful and wealthy ladies.”

"It's nothing for you."

Chapter 92 Work Report

The next day, Al received a list that had been prepared and sent by someone. This list included a series of social celebrities and dignitaries, which was cleverly hidden inside the clothes sent to Anna.

He quietly examined the list, highlighting the virgins among the candidates. The list also briefly described their sexual preferences and weaknesses. For example, it mentioned that the Undersecretary of Justice, Lavinia, seemed to prefer men younger than herself.

Al quickly memorized the names and information, then destroyed the list.

Sitting in his chair, leaning back with his arms crossed, he pondered for a moment before calling Eliza to his office. Today, the Blood Priestess wore a red velvet ribbon around her neck, a red and white business suit on her upper body, and a long skirt on her lower body—because she inevitably had to go out for events, and as a substitute, she bore all the blame directed at the Master of Love and Desire, so El generously gifted her many sets of clothes.

"Shanu, I think I've been good enough to you. You should reflect on your past actions. I'm busy and don't have time to play torture games with you, so you should learn to be patient."

To put it bluntly, his initial goal was to force him to repent and reform through pain and torment.

Eliza whispered her agreement, though her expression showed some fear, her alluring, upturned eyes still revealed a dangerous charm.

She obediently lifted her skirt to reveal two tails: one was a slender, heart-shaped tail, and the other was the dog tail he had personally put on her that day. Her timid and weak expression was a stark contrast to her usual brutal attitude towards prisoners and other succubi.

El glanced at her, watching her slightly sway her ample hips, and felt a little touched, but his face remained indifferent. "You don't wear underwear anymore? Whatever. Now, use your pair of lustful big breasts to serve me one more time, and then say goodbye to them."

Eliza responded with a "Yes," then stepped forward, knelt before him, cupped her proud breasts, and slowly began to rub them together. She then lowered her head and gently began to suckle.

Sucking and licking

Because physical modification would cause pain, El assumed that she could receive some compensation physically.

"All right."

Ah, it's over so quickly? I haven't had enough yet. Eliza was still craving more. She spat out what was in her mouth and tidied her long, blood-red hair that had been messed up by her ears. But it seemed to be in vain, because El quickly and mercilessly grabbed her hair and then cast a lustful body-transforming spell on her, melting away the fat and muscle in her body. Her once full and perky breasts quickly shrank into her body, and her wings also retracted. Gradually, she transformed from a sexy and mature succubus into a slender, freckled girl.

The excruciating pain, akin to having her bones and flesh ripped away, made her groan, gasp, and scream, nearly going mad. Yet, her face was filled with joy, feeling that the pain was no longer just pain, but rather the love and happiness bestowed upon her by her master—what bliss!

After the modification was completed, El immediately ordered, "Stand up. How much longer do you intend to lie on the ground?"

Eliza slowly got up, struggling to support her body as she stood up. Her skin, which had been adjusted to a slightly tanned color, was still flushed, and there was a layer of sweat on her forehead and lips. Judging from the expression on her pretty face, she was still immersed in the pleasure and pain she had just experienced. She truly deserved to be called an excellent torture slave.

“Shanu, you’ll be in this state for the next week.” El slapped her twice on her now less plump buttocks. “Get moving.”

"Hmm~"

……

Shortly after Eliza left with a new batch of fertility potions, Hisska raised her hand and knocked on the door before entering to report on the recent situation in the disciplinary ward.

Thanks to her excellent reading and writing skills, Hisska took on most of the clerical work in the prison ward, making her arguably the correctional officer who did the most work on a regular basis.

As the nominal Super-Class Correctional Officer but the de facto warden, El was only interested in those stubborn criminals who needed his personal discipline. He usually handed over the handling of prisoners who had made mistakes in prison and were sent here to his Scarlet Guard.

Thus, in Hisska's view, her superior indulged in pleasure every day, living a comfortable life, and even the air in the office was filled with a strong smell of desire that had been fully ignited.

As for her, she was extremely pitiful. Not only was she exhausted every day, but he also ruthlessly deprived her of even the few pleasures she had in life—the basic right to masturbation.

She muttered to herself, "You big bad guy, you lecherous commander! If I ever go crazy from lust, who will help you deal with these damned documents? Relying on those bloodthirsty lunatics? They don't even know a few words of common language."

"You seem to be thinking about something very impolite?"

El chuckled. He had always been very gentle and kind to Hisska and Vera.

Hisska pretended not to hear his teasing, habitually pushed up her glasses, opened the file in her hand, and began her routine report as her fingertips slid down the words. "In the past fourteen days, the prison ward has recorded zero deaths, but seven inmates have suffered mental breakdowns, and three inmates have developed complications due to festering wounds from caning..." She paused for a moment, "In addition, two inmates attempted suicide."

El nodded slightly, his fingertips tapping unconsciously on the smooth tabletop.

Hisska continued reading in a pleasant voice, "In cooperation with the solitary confinement ward, a total of thirty-eight prisoners were dealt with, and the ward successfully freed up twenty-eight standard stone chamber solitary confinement cells. The remaining ten prisoners are still under discipline."

El chuckled, "Well done. I thank you on behalf of Gloria, and also Vera."

Hisska straightened her back slightly. "The consumption of disciplinary tools is..." El interrupted her at the right moment, "There's no need to report that. I don't care how many whips they wore out, nor how many candles they used."

“But, sir, those medicines are a considerable expense. If this continues, our budget will definitely be in serious trouble.” With that, Hisska sighed. Her superior was actually a bit too kind in some ways. Treating prisoners after punishment was an unnecessary expense.

"Don't worry about the money, the government is here for you," El laughed. "Even if the government doesn't allocate funds, I'll still be here for you."

"I've never heard of working for free!" Hisska couldn't help but think to herself.

“Alright.” She flipped through the records, her fingertip pausing next to a name circled in special red ink. “There’s one more thing I think you should know: a half-succubus named ‘Nightingale’ has shown no… obvious signs of submission after going through the training procedures you prescribed.”

"Is that so? Such willpower is indeed rare. Then I'll go and meet her myself."

Chapter 93 Training the Female Investigator

The cells in the discipline ward were newly built and were in much better condition than those in other wards. However, the prisoners who came here were not grateful for this. On the contrary, most of them felt that it was more terrifying here. This terror was not in a physical sense, but rather a deeper psychological feeling.

At this moment, El stood outside a stone chamber door. Before entering, he took off his outer uniform jacket and handed it to Number Six, who was not far away. He was only wearing his inner shirt and rolled up the cuffs to his forearms.

Behind him stood two scarlet succubi, Number Six and Number Eight, while Hisska stood in the shadows near the door, clutching a hardcover notebook and a quill pen. They breathed very softly, as if afraid of disturbing him, but their gazes were inevitably fixed on his next move.

The prisoner, "Nightingale," was placed on a specially made cast iron chair, identical to the one Nara had enjoyed, perhaps from the same batch. Cold, curved armrests extended from both sides, firmly fixing her hands at an inescapable angle, while her ankles were secured with iron rings.

El stared into her deep purple eyes, purple being the very color of lust. His gaze gradually moved downwards. She wore a loose and crudely made prison uniform, yet it still couldn't completely conceal her stunningly curvaceous body, which even in confinement revealed. Her skin was pale to the point of being sickly, and her slightly curly, grayish-white hair was disheveled and draped over her shoulders. One of her horns was also broken off.

She tilted her head slightly, leaning against the cold chair back, her pretty face expressionless.

On the way here, El had already briefly learned about Nightingale's information. According to the records in the dossier, she was an intelligence officer of the Empire before she was imprisoned. Nightingale was her code name. The crime she committed was treason. Specifically, she harbored an organization called "Forest Apostles".

This organization is quite unique, as it consists of a group of forest succubi who adhere to extreme environmentalism. They advocate harmony between succubi and nature, and a return to simplicity. They are most famous for "naturism" and "the superfluousness of clothing." Therefore, in the eyes of the general public, these guys are no different from exhibitionists.

Speaking of which, succubi are very adaptable creatures. In their millennia-long journey of secularization, they inevitably make mistakes, resulting in bizarre beings such as nun succubi, paladin succubi, and druid succubi.

Protecting forests is just an idea and does not violate the law, but when these mentally ill individuals systematically use violence or other irregular means to coerce the people or force the empire to adopt the same ideas as them, that is a crime.

Instead of immediately starting to discipline her, El slowly paced around the chair until he came behind her, placing himself in her blind spot. Then he placed his hands on the back of the chair and touched her shoulders.

“Nightingale,” he began slowly, his voice not loud, “as far as I know, you are an orphan. The Empire raised you, and you should have served your country loyally. But now, because you sympathize with a group of terrorists, you have been sent to this prison, to be with a bunch of vile and despicable criminals. Tell me, what promises did those fake elves make to you that made you so disregard your reputation?”

The former intelligence officer seemed to ignore her completely; her pretty face was eerily calm, without the slightest trace of fear or wavering.

Al didn't care. He knew she must have received anti-torture training beforehand. Aphrodisiacs and whips might have some effect, but not enough to completely subdue her. So he said, "It's okay if you don't want to answer. It's none of my business, and I don't care at all. What I care about is that you're still a virgin."

As he spoke, he picked up a strand of her hair from her shoulder with his finger and gently sniffed it.

Incidentally, in the Empire's current intelligence personnel training, seduction is considered the lowest level of method. For succubi, using their beauty and physical assets to obtain intelligence through sex is a rather low-level approach. To put it nicely, it's called respecting ancient traditions; to put it bluntly, intelligence studies have been completely wasted!

Upon hearing this, Nightingale's eyelashes trembled very slightly, as if she hadn't expected him to say that. At the same moment, El sensed a very subtle emotion—she wasn't afraid, nor was she angry; it was more like...something she couldn't understand.

He said softly, “Is it hard to understand? You are a beautiful lady, and I am a normal man. Sometimes I want to have sex with women. I don’t need any other reason. Once my desire is satisfied, I will pull up my pants, kick you aside, and go do something else.”

Is this considered a compliment? Let's just say it is.

"As you wish..." her hoarse voice rang out, "Or, young sir, I should thank you, for I thought I would remain a virgin until the day I die."

Nightingale tilted her head slightly, trying to look back for his figure, but El solemnly used his hand to straighten her head.

She suddenly said, "Do you really understand the darkness of the empire? The greatest malice you've shown me is nothing more than wanting to rape me, but the real evil is..."

“I told you, I don’t care,” Al’s voice remained calm. “Trying to convince me, do you think that makes any sense?”

He scoffed, "What are you dreaming of? Expecting me to agree with your ideas? Expecting me to give you my approval?"

"The only thing you can do now is to repent. Because of the information you leaked, the core members of the 'Forest Apostles' escaped during the manhunt. The law enforcement officers felt they had lost face. Next, what awaits those 'fake elves' will be an even more swift and powerful thunderous attack. You are the one who caused their deaths without a burial place."

A pang of sorrow flashed deep in Nightingale's purple eyes. When the sacred enforcers become cold-blooded and ruthless butchers in the hands of the higher-ups, what will become of those compatriots who hold different beliefs?

There are no absolutely correct ideas; only mutual understanding can achieve peace.

At this moment, she felt an indescribable sensation rising from her spine, as if some kind of magical power was coursing through her body. Even though she was in a state of magic suppression and her magic was weakened, she could still feel that tangible invasion, as if some alien entity had invaded her body. She even hallucinated because of it, as if she smelled a sweet and cloying fragrance and heard faint murmurs.

So this is what being raped feels like; it's not all pain.

Her heart was pounding in her throat. She bit her lower lip hard to keep from letting out a single moan. Her vaginal fluid gradually soaked through her prison clothes.

His eyes gleamed with a purple light as he softly asked, "Now, can you answer my question, Miss Nightingale? Do you feel even a trace of regret for your actions?"

How could there be a succubus in this world who can bring women to repeated orgasms simply by using magic to stimulate them... Nightingale murmured to herself intermittently, and as she pondered, her delicate body trembled again.

Chapter 94 Teaching Hisska

El continued to unleash his power, transforming it into an invisible sword that pierced directly into the succubus's most primal and irresistible sensory core—the organ that should bring pleasure and connect life and desire.

A sharp groan escaped from Nightingale's tightly closed lips, as if it came from the depths of her throat. At the same time, her delicate body was jolted up in the cold restraint chair, only to be pulled back by the merciless iron rings. Gradually, she felt a completely out-of-control, forcibly ignited physiological desire.

Her already pale, almost sickly skin instantly turned an even more sickly flushed red. Although the succubus had no pores, a torrent of sweat seeped out at an alarming rate from the tiny gaps between the mimic scales—her pale skin—slid down her graceful curves. Her head was tilted back, as if she were suffering from intermittent, incoherent gasps. Her beautiful pupils also lost focus, and the shape of hearts began to appear within them.

A feeling of humiliation and shame welled up inside me, a feeling that started with my soul being thoroughly violated, and physiological tears flowed uncontrollably down my flushed cheeks.

During this time, El did not leave her side or have any physical contact with her. He simply watched her aroused state calmly. He could feel the uncontrollable, violent tremors emanating from her body through the chair. A satisfied smile appeared on his lips. Now that the experiment was successful, he planned to replicate it on other training targets.

"It seems your will is not unbreakable; you are just like everyone else, forcibly suppressing yourself."

Nightingale could no longer answer, for the forced climax had already arrived, and her rather plump buttocks instinctively began to wiggle rhythmically. With a high-pitched scream, her body tensed up like a bowstring stretched to its limit, and the iron rings binding her wrists and ankles dug deep into her flesh, leaving marks of restraint that symbolized pain. But she had no time to care about that at the moment; reason had been completely overwhelmed by the pleasure that swept over her soul.

At this moment, stopping the pleasure has become a more effective punishment than any torture.

Al keenly sensed that her will to resist was beginning to wane, so he didn't hesitate any longer and commanded, "You are a criminal!"

“I am a criminal!” she repeated unconsciously.

“And I am your Father and Savior.”

“Loving Father, Merciful Savior,” she chanted incoherently.

"From now on, you may not have an orgasm without my permission."

"Yes, I am not worthy of orgasm." Nightingale's bloodless lips trembled violently, instinctively resisting this psychological suggestion, but the destructive waves from the depths of her body crashed against her wave after wave, shattering her already dwindling rationality.

The decree issued by El was like a nail, driven into her mind, becoming an inviolable creed. From then on, she fell into the abyss of desire, sinking into it and unable to extricate herself.

"I...uhhh..."

Nightingale's head slumped forward, drool dripping from the corner of her mouth. All that remained was the emptiness of her shattered consciousness and instinctive physiological reactions. Like a doll that had been completely broken, her lips moved, and words were clearly expressed amidst her faint moans and gasps.

"Let me climax, please, Father, let me climax."

"Just this once."

Almost as soon as he agreed, Nightingale's tense body suddenly relaxed, and she slumped softly into the chair.

She was breathing heavily, each breath accompanied by a violent tremor. Her eyes were empty and blank, and a large, dark wet patch spread between her legs, as if she had urinated. The stench of filth and desecration permeated the cell, more suffocating than any other odor.

El slowly lowered his rolled-up sleeves and turned his gaze to Hisska, who was standing outside the cell bars. She immediately understood and took the uniform jacket from the scarlet succubus, walking over somewhat unsteadily to drape it over him.

To be honest, what just happened—the female intelligence officer's forced orgasm followed by an immediate and painful end—made her feel a pang of sympathy.

Whoever becomes the wife of an officer in the future will be truly blessed.

"It's resolved." El's voice was flat. His gaze lingered on Nightingale's limp body for a moment, without any extra pity, as if he were examining a flesh toy that had just finished testing.

"Master, your skills are unfathomable. You've become even stronger since you trained us," Number Six said with a fawning smile and deep respect.

She and Number Eight stepped forward, untied the iron rings binding Nightingale, and then roughly lifted her soft, boneless body, which was like a puddle of mud, and placed it on the hard bed.

The nightingale did not react at all; its head remained drooping limply, and its body continued to twitch slightly unconsciously.

El stopped looking at them, led Hisska, and strode outside.

Hisska, who had been trailing El at a comfortable distance, suddenly stopped. "Wait... this position is too inconvenient for talking. Can't you keep up with me?"

Hisska then took two steps forward. "Sir, what are your orders?"

"Speaking of which, after you left, who got the library position?"

Hearing this, Hisska couldn't help but sigh, "The library is closed now; it wasn't a very important place to begin with."

El was taken aback for a moment, then smiled and said softly, "That's perfect. You can use your existing collection of books to create your own private library here."

Upon hearing this, a flicker of excitement flashed in Hisska's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by melancholy. She had been so busy lately with affairs that she had no time to read, and the inability to masturbate had diminished her pleasure. Although she had gotten what she wanted, she was not as happy as she had imagined.

This leads to a question she's pondering: why did she used to think that reading would bring her happiness, and why do things that she once considered important now seem less important?

Looking at the figure in front of me, I suddenly felt relieved. Perhaps after seeing my superior, nothing else mattered.