Liliane didn’t relent her aura by so much as a millimeter.
The purple mist thickened, the suffocating pressure of an Expert-rank aura turning the air in Mina’s throat to lead.
The red-haired succubus braced her hands against the bar, leaning languidly over the pinned girl. A long, black-lacquered claw slid out soundlessly, tilting Mina’s chin upward, forcing her to stare directly into a pair of glowing emerald slit pupils.
“I’m asking one last time,” Liliane whispered, her voice slicing through the silence like a straight razor. “Who sent you?”
In that same breath, the phantom violet chain cinched tighter across Mina’s chest. The magical shackles bit deep beneath her monumental E-cup bust, hoisting it shamelessly and crushing the soft flesh with ruthless force.
A paralyzing ache flared across her sternum, but pain was the least of her worries. A wave of sheer panic flooded her mind - if those damn engorged glands gave out under that kind of pressure, no amount of willpower would stop a full-blown lactational explosion.
The prospect of drenching the bar - and herself - in streams of milk right before the demoness’s eyes brought genuine, burning tears to Mina’s eyes.
She had zero intention of playing the martyr. Trembling from head to toe, a frantic sob tore from her throat:
“I’m telling the truth! I swear by the Light of the Sun, I swear!”
Liliane didn’t budge, boring into her with an unyielding glare.
“Yesterday evening... during confessions!” Mina spilled the words in a frantic rush, choking on tears. “A masked man came... Reeked of harbor salt, dead fish, and cheap tobacco! He confessed to greed for gold, and when I refused him absolution, he threw that cursed passphrase at me! He said if I needed money to patch the leaking roof on the chapel, the red-haired lady from The Pink Haven would buy every lust potion I had if I mentioned Mother Isolde! I... I just need the money to keep the parish afloat! Please, don’t kill me!”
Liliane held the claw against her throat for several agonizing seconds. Her emerald slitted eyes registered every micro-expression: the violent dilation of Mina’s pupils, the frantic gallop of her pulse against her pale neck, the raw terror contorting her youthful features, and the helpless quiver of her chin.
Everything pointed to a naive, terrified goose whom some clever dockside rat had decided to use as an unwitting courier - or live bait to test the waters.
The succubus scoffed in deep distaste. She flicked her wrist toward the ceiling.
The purple gloom died in a heartbeat, and the phantom chains dissolved without a sound, scattering into dust. Warm amber light from the oil lamps washed back over the room, and the suffocating weight crushing Mina’s lungs vanished.
“Stupid little mouse...” Liliane hissed, narrowing her eyes as she pulled her claw away. “If the Inquisition caught you with that name on your lips, your pretty little body would be on a pyre before sunrise. And that harbor confessor of yours would probably be swinging from a gibbet right beside you.”
Mina didn’t wait around for the lecture to finish.
The moment she felt her limbs free, pure survival instinct drowned out every shred of rational thought. Potions, gold, debt - she threw it all to the wind. She just needed to get the hell out of there.
She slipped off the barstool, her boots hitting the stone flags. She took one frantic lunge toward the door - and immediately cursed her new body.
Her massive new E-cup bust had drastically altered her center of gravity. Mina lost her footing, got tangled in her own skirt, and pitched forward.
Before her face could slam into the floor, however, something unexpected happened.
Standing nearly six feet tall, Liliane leaned across the bar with inhuman reflexes. Her hand whipped forward like a lash, catching Mina by the collar of her cloak exactly like one would scruff a misbehaving, squirming kitten. With one fluid, effortless heave, she hoisted the girl clean off her feet and dumped her back onto the high stool.
Mina’s chest slammed hard against the unyielding, polished edge of the wooden bar.
The impact sent her heavy breasts bouncing shamelessly, spilling out of her parted cloak and nearly bursting through the thin fabric of her chemise. The breathtaking hypersensitivity of her newly altered nipples flared in a fraction of a second; a shockwave of mixed pleasure and pain shot through her nervous system so intensely that a strangled, drawn-out moan slipped from her lips:
“Aahh... n-no...”
Before she could even collect herself, Liliane vaulted the counter in one supple bound. She landed squarely beside her, planting both hands on the bar on either side of Mina’s hips, pinning her flush against the counter. The succubus’s long, shapely thigh wedged tight against her, sealing off any avenue of escape.
“Where to, little blossom?” Liliane purred directly into her ear, that predatory, amused sweetness returning to her voice. “At The Pink Haven, we don’t let our guests leave before closing a deal. Consider it a little loyalty test. I had to make sure you weren’t an undercover rat from the city watch.”
Mina sat frozen stiff, terrified to move a muscle. The feverish heat radiating from the tall demoness scorched right through her cloak.
Liliane reached out a slender arm and languidly pulled the wooden box across the wood. She slid one of the test tubes from the black velvet, holding it up to the amber glow of the oil lamp. Her gaze immediately locked onto the pink fluid, watching the crimson ribbons of energy drift lazily through the suspension. Her sculpted brows knitted in thought.
“What in the world is this color?...” she murmured, twirling the glass between her fingers. “Traditional Toadfolk brew is rotten green and reeks like a stagnant swamp. Cheap knockoffs cut with goblin bile look like vomit. This doesn’t look like any aphrodisiac I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Mina swallowed hard, desperately clawing back whatever shreds of professionalism she could muster. With trembling hands, she smoothed the lapels of her cloak, though her chest was still heaving from the impact against the counter.
“It’s... it’s pure extract. My own proprietary formula. It’s vastly more potent than cave slop, with zero side effects!” Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Liliane eyed her with a mocking smirk.
“We’ll see about that, little nun.”
The succubus pulled the waxed cork.
An intensely sweet, creamy peach fragrance immediately drifted from the vial, completely banishing the aroma of coffee from the room. Liliane dipped the tip of her black claw into the pink liquid and let her eyelids flutter shut.
“Alchemical Perception,” she whispered.
A miniature azure-gold runic circle flared to life around her fingertip, spinning through the air as it analyzed the potion’s structure.
A breath later, the smirk froze dead on Liliane’s lips.
Her emerald pupils dilated so violently they nearly swallowed her irises whole. The succubus held her breath. The alchemical circle revealed not a single trace of toxins, heavy metals, or biological impurities.
Instead, the spell registered a flawless, harmonious vital matrix anchored to an unprecedentedly rich medium brimming with a colossal charge of life energy.
Liliane stared at the test tube, then back at Mina, as if she were looking at a ghost.
Knowing her demonic physiology could metabolize any mortal poison, the woman didn’t bother with half-measures. She tipped the vial to her lips and took a deep, generous swig.
Seeing the woman drink her priceless elixir, Mina froze.
“Wait, that’s not meant for… ”
The words died in her throat as the liquid slid down Liliane’s throat.
The draught tasted like ripe, sun-drenched peaches drenched in velvety, thick, endlessly sweet cream.
And then, the detonation hit.
The aphrodisiac brewed from Mina’s magical milk slammed into the succubus’s demonic reproductive system like a runaway battering ram.
The blood in Liliane’s veins literally caught fire; in a fraction of a second, a scalding crimson flush rushed up her pale, patrician neck to flood her cheeks. The mature woman’s breath turned raspy, ragged, and hot as a furnace draft.
Her lush bust began heaving violently beneath her purple velvet gown, and her long, spade-tipped tail whipped out from beneath her skirts, lashing the air in an uncontrollable, rutting frenzy.
“Abyssal gods...” Liliane choked out, clutching her chest, her fingers digging desperately into her own cleavage. A deep, shameless shiver racked her entire frame. “What did you pour into this, little nun?... It tastes like the sweetest ambrosia. My body... it’s burning from the inside out~”
“It’s... a proprietary recipe,” Mina stammered, pressing herself flat against the barstool, cold sweat trickling down her spine at the sheer, unhinged lust blazing in the succubus’s eyes.
Liliane shook her head, trying in vain to rein in the throbbing heat pooling between her thighs. She stared down at the remaining four vials in the box. Her merchant instincts - even clouded by the intoxicating haze of the elixir - instantly recalibrated the true worth of the merchandise. Her gut told her this was nothing short of an alchemical revolution. Nobles from the upper city would trade their ancestral estates for this.
“I’ll pay fifteen gold coins per vial,” she rasped in a trembling, feverish voice. “For the five... seventy-five gold coins.”
Mina felt the floor give way beneath her feet.
Seventy-five gold coins?!
Her accountant’s brain exploded in pure, unadulterated euphoria. She had hoped to scrape together ten apiece, and she was getting fifteen! Seventy-five coins covered a full quarter of her weekly installment to Ashcroft! All from a single night of milking her own tits!
Liliane reached under the bar and dropped a heavy, bulging purse of black leather onto the counter. The coins inside clinked with the most beautiful, metallic chime in the world.
With greed in her eyes, Mina reached out for the gold. She grabbed the pouch and tugged.
The purse didn’t budge an inch.
Liliane pinned it to the wood with a single, long black claw. Across her flushed, feverish face spread the lazy, ruthless grin of an apex predator. Read this novel at novelping(.)com for the best experience.
“Not so fast, darling,” the succubus purred, dropping her voice to a dangerous whisper. “The deal is struck, but... you wouldn’t want the imperial army or the Inquisition finding out what the sweet, innocent Daughter of Light from Wax Lantern Street gets up to after dark, now would you? Trafficking illicit aphrodisiacs on the black market... That’s more than enough to have you stripped of your habit, shaved bare, and thrown to the bottom of an oubliette on charges of heresy.”
Hearing those words, Mina froze solid, all the blood draining from her face.
Blatant blackmail!
She had walked right into another trap.
“What... what do you want?” she forced out.
Liliane didn’t answer with words. Feverish from the elixir’s effects, the demoness had no intention of letting the girl leave without collecting her personal commission.
She lunged forward, grabbing Mina by the collar of her cloak and yanking her flush against her chest. Before Mina could scream, Liliane’s lips crushed against her throat.
The succubus’s hot, wet mouth greedily claimed the girl’s fair skin, leaving slick, peach-scented lipstick stains along her collarbone. Liliane purred in delight, gently nibbling Mina’s earlobe with sharp fangs, her breath scorching like open flame.
At the same time, her supple, spade-tipped tail slithered beneath the folds of Mina’s cloak. It coiled tightly around her thigh, creeping higher and higher, until the spade’s tip brushed through her thin underwear directly against her lower belly.
In a split second, the Scarlet Brand beneath Mina’s navel detonated.
A massive, paralyzing jolt of sensory overload ripped through her entire body.
“Aaaahhh!”
A loud, shameless moan of pleasure tore from Mina’s throat, echoing loudly off the shelves of coffee beans. Her knees turned to water, her head lolling backward. Her own body was betraying her in the most humiliating way possible.
And then, a crimson alarm blared through her hazy, overwhelmed mind.
If she pushes my skirt down... If she sees the tattoo and recognizes the Third Prince’s crest, I'll become a bargaining chip in a faction war! They'll ruin me!
Terror of exposure eclipsed the paralyzing tide of arousal.
Mina gathered every scrap of strength she had left. Bracing her palms against Liliane’s shoulders, she shoved the startled demoness back with all her might. In the same breath, she yanked the purse from the counter, tearing it from beneath the succubus’s claw.
“I’ll deliver five vials every week!” she cried out in a single, desperate gasp, backing frantically toward the exit. “Five vials a week, at this exact price! Just fucking let me go!”
Liliane staggered back slightly, steadying herself against the bar.
She looked at the disheveled, flushed girl clutching the gold beneath her cloak. The prospect of a steady, guaranteed supply of such an overwhelming elixir tipped the scales. The succubus reeled in her tail, a deep, throaty chuckle rumbling from her chest.
“I’ll hold you to your word, my little nun...” she purred sensually, flicking her tongue out to catch a bead of sweat from the corner of her lips. “Every Tuesday at midnight. And remember: next time, we won’t stop at innocent kisses.”
Mina didn’t answer. Lunging in sheer panic, she wrenched the handle and tumbled through the wooden door out into the cool, damp night.
Slamming the door behind her, she bolted down the pitch-black alley.
The cold night wind whipped across her flushed face. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, one hand frantically scrubbing at her neck smeared with sticky peach lipstick, the other clutching the heavy, clinking pouch of seventy-five gold coins against her belly.
She was shivering violently - from humiliation, the lingering dregs of unwanted arousal, and pure, unadulterated shock.
She had survived!
She had secured the funds to pay a chunk of her extortion and bought herself another week of life. But the price was terrifying: ensnared by a predatory succubus, with her own body turned into a raw-material factory for Viagra...
Meanwhile, in the quiet reading room of The Pink Haven, steeped in the aroma of coffee and vanilla, Liliane slowly composed herself.
Straightening her snug corset with a wistful, dreamy sigh, she carefully locked four of the pink vials inside a small iron safe hidden beneath the counter. The fifth, opened bottle she left on top, twirling it between her fingers with a lingering smile.
Suddenly, the brass bell above the entrance chimed softly.
Liliane looked up, expecting another late customer.
The smile vanished from her lips as a tall silhouette draped in a sweeping, ash-black cloak of heavy fabric stepped through the door.