Succubus Prison

Page 46

He leaned forward, his tone sincere: "Live on, senior. Only by living can you witness... the most magnificent legend." Deep in his eyes, there was a resolute determination that Mirei could not comprehend at all.

Before she could ask a question, El ended the conversation.

"Okay, let's stop talking about old times."

He stood up, took a step back, composed himself, and finally displayed some authority as a superior, announcing to her in a businesslike manner: "Prisoner 4437, because your previous crimes have been deemed egregious, according to the latest supplementary provisions of the Supreme Prison Management Regulations, effective immediately, you must enter the discipline area for a discipline and reform ceremony. Now, come with me immediately."

"..."

Mireille gave him a deep look. Her complex gaze held scrutiny, resistance, and ultimately, a helpless compromise.

She lowered her eyelids and replied softly, "Yes."

Chapter 108 The Beginning of the Festival of Dionysus

At the end of the Flower Month, the Dionysian Festival arrived as scheduled.

As one of the oldest gods, Dionysus, though often regarded as a secondary god in terms of divine power and status, enjoys a grander scale of worship than most other gods.

It was because she imparted the art of winemaking to humankind, bringing joy and intoxication to the world, that she won the respect of the masses.

In addition, she not only symbolizes wine and intoxication, but also the embodiment of joy and drama. Her image is often depicted as a short-haired, androgynous beauty, and the festivals are especially grand in order to please this deity.

Before the chariots of the sun god and the moon god had even been handed over, the clamor of the festival from the earth had already eagerly surged forth. In the central squares of various cities, grand bonfires had been lit, and citizens surrounded the fires, drinking and singing with abandon, competing to see who could drink the most and last the longest.

"Hooray! Long live Dionysus!" Cheers rose and fell.

A strange, intoxicating atmosphere filled the air—not just from the alcohol, but also from the dizziness caused by hallucinogens. Under the guise of a festival, many previously taboo things could be broken.

Strangers put their arms around each other's shoulders and share a bowl of fine wine, unaware of each other's identities; reserved young girls blush and look at their beloved with bolder eyes than usual; suggestive and vulgar jokes circulate among the crowd, eliciting uproarious laughter; even slaves wearing collars temporarily forget their miserable status.

There's an old saying that goes, "Wine is for the masters, beer is for the peasants."

However, during the holidays, major wine merchants in the capital city generously offered unlimited supplies of all kinds of high-end wines, allowing people to drink as much as they wanted.

After all, compared to the magnificent and complex giant wine fountain they presented to the princesses and nobles at Verheim Palace, this effort was nothing, and they even gained a good reputation.

Out of jealousy, Satella was also invited to the court banquet.

But rather than enjoying wine and conversation with a group of prominent nobles, she preferred to spend the rare celebration with her brother like an ordinary couple.

So she summoned the "Phantom of Jealousy" once again, and Satella made a deal with her clone to take turns accompanying her brother during the Dionysian festival to prevent him from putting himself in danger again.

The siblings shed their usual uniforms and donned festive attire: loose-fitting white classic silk robes that resembled a piece of cloth wrapped around their bodies, revealing their arms.

They walked hand in hand down the street.

The air was filled with a sweet, cloying aroma of wine, food, and spices.

On the road leading to the Grand Theatre, a grand parade had just arrived.

A huge phallic model, covered in gold powder and wrapped in silk, was being held aloft by a group of married priestesses. This was not an act of blatant indecency, but rather an ancient human tradition—the primitive worship of fertility.

The succubi, who also deeply revere vitality, readily accepted and preserved this aspect of their culture.

The climax of the celebration has only just begun.

Al saw the crowd being pushed by an invisible hand, rushing toward the moving male symbol, countless hands—delicate, rough, young, and even wrinkled—reaching out.

"Let me touch it! Move aside! Let me touch it!"

A succubus screamed and kept pushing aside her competitors with her elbows. After a struggle, her fingertips finally touched the silk "foreskin" of the huge phallus.

Beside her, a young succubus who appeared to have just gotten married abandoned her bridal reserve and clasped her hands together, praying that her husband's penis would remain erect and not be drained to death by her.

The situation nearly spiraled out of control.

The mature priestesses burst into laughter, struggling against the surging crowd yet remaining steadfast. They held aloft barrels of wine, pouring it down on the crowd, drenching their faces and bodies. The sweet wine stained the hair, cheeks, and garments of the nearby succubi and women, soaking their pure white robes and turning them a deep crimson. The wine flowed like a stream down their beautiful bodies, as if spraying forth the sap of life.

A young woman, squeezed to the edge of the crowd, sat on the ground watching the line recede into the distance. Her eyes were glazed, and she was panting heavily, as if she had just experienced a fierce battle. The sweet taste of wine lingered on her tongue, and there was an indescribable complex emotion on her pretty face.

Satella watched the scene from afar, and was also infected by the frenzied atmosphere of the festival. She couldn't help but lick her lips and look meaningfully at her younger brother beside her.

El murmured, "That's ridiculous. Does it even work?"

Of course it's useless. Dionysus doesn't have the same divine role as procreation and sex. It's just that people often use "drunken promiscuity" as an excuse to shirk their responsibilities after indulging in debauchery.

"What are your plans for tonight's date?" Satella wrapped her arms around his waist, her fingertips tracing faint circles on his abs through his thin robe. Her soft breasts pressed against his arm, and she was somewhat lost in the intoxicating scent emanating from him at such an intimate distance.

"We can stroll through the festival, savor delicious food, and enjoy the drama... We can then watch the show in a secluded box while getting intimate, secretly doing something that will bring us joy."

Satella tightened her arms around his waist, lowered her head slightly, and rubbed her delicate cheek against his face, her voice laced with a hint of languid coquettishness: "Sounds pretty good... but," she pressed her forehead against her brother's, her nose almost touching his, a playful glint in her pink eyes, her breath sweet as orchids, "you underestimate your older sister a bit. Are you sure... you'll still be in the mood to watch the show when the time comes?"

"Please, sister, I'm now... a sex expert." Actually, what he originally wanted to say was—Pervert El.

El took his sister's hand and gently stroked the inside of her delicate wrist with his thumb, saying without any hesitation, "After satisfying my dearest sister, I'm going to throw a grand midnight party."

Satella narrowed her eyes, feeling incredibly green with envy. She feigned anger and said, "I think you just want your sister to advance quickly so she won't appear in front of you and interfere with your womanizing."

As she spoke, she pulled him closer with an undeniable possessiveness, almost completely embedding his body in her embrace, pressing his genitals tightly against her pubic mound.

Satella could clearly feel the heat and hardness emanating from his body, and her heart began to beat faster involuntarily.

Because of this position, El's other hand naturally slid down to his sister's pert buttocks and skillfully kneaded them.

In the festive atmosphere, on the bustling street, they were just a couple lost in their own world, completely unnoticed by anyone.

Chapter 109 An Invitation to Lust

Satella and El walked hand in hand through the bustling streets.

After the priestesses' procession, countless small carnivals spontaneously formed among the people, and everyone's face was filled with a smile that was rarely seen on ordinary days.

Almost every corner was filled with drunk men and women, including some cunning succubi who were feigning drunkenness.

After each festival, the empire would have many newborns, who were often jokingly referred to as "children picked up from the vineyard."

The siblings were talking when an elderly woman with a rosy complexion and a beaming smile called out to them, handing them two earthenware bowls filled with her homemade green absinthe. "Here! Children! Drink up! Cheers to this joyous evening!"

To put it bluntly, she was like a mysterious witch peddling poison.

El instinctively took it, held it to his nose and sniffed it lightly, then carefully took a sip, immediately revealing a strange expression.

The taste is hard to describe. Even though sugar was added, it was still very bitter, with a metallic flavor.

Moreover, the effects begin immediately after the alcohol enters the stomach.

Thanks to the tacit understanding she had developed with her brother over the years, Satella immediately sensed something was wrong. She frowned and was about to say something when she heard her brother say, "Try it, sister, just a little bit."

Ok?

Curious, she took it and sipped it. A wine with the aroma of grapes slid down her throat, instantly igniting a small flame of desire within her. She couldn't help but take another big gulp, and an unnatural blush quickly spread across her pretty face.

The old woman gave them a meaningful look, then smiled and left to find the next couple of customers.

Satella watched her departing figure, then turned to her brother and said, "What a kind-hearted person, she put an aphrodisiac in that drink."

Although it's not as domineering as the younger brother's lustful powers, which can ignite a woman's desire with a simple touch and turn a chaste lady into a harlot, it is true that it will enhance libido in a short period of time after taking it.

Al laughed and said, "They probably think of us as a newlywed couple or lovers."

Satella was overjoyed upon hearing this. She happily pulled him close, gave him a big kiss, and said with a charming smile, "I think we should hurry up."

Otherwise, if you're too slow, you'll only be able to spend your spring night in an empty alley.

The closer you get to the theater, the more people there are, and the louder the singing becomes. The lyrics of ordinary people's songs are often not melodies and are not considered pleasant to listen to; they are simply for releasing inner joy.

Satella felt her cheeks getting hotter and hotter. It wasn't the effect of an aphrodisiac; only a legendary-level love potion could have a sufficient effect on a legendary powerhouse. She simply wanted it. Her body went limp as she leaned against her brother, her eyes glazed over.

"Just a little longer, sister, we'll be there soon."

Not far away, at the entrance to the grand theater, the magnificent building's exquisite carvings and decorations showcase the empire's splendor.

Two different architectural styles coexist here without any sense of incongruity.

Humans and succubi differ slightly in their architectural styles. Generally speaking, human pillars are known for their exquisite reliefs on the pillar shafts, often depicting significant achievements, hence they are also called "memorial pillars".

The pillars of the succubus may not be just pillars, but "living pillars," with entangled flesh, bared tentacles, and fused infernal creatures. In short, they are full of the dark style of the abyss. Sex, which humans consider secret and shameful, is a subject that the succubus architects do not shy away from and can use at will.

This is not hard to understand. For succubi, the concepts of reproduction and life are the most powerful sources of strength. Incorporating sexual elements into architecture is not just for decoration, but has a certain practical function.

The scene was even more lively beneath the enormous marble archway.

A group of actors wearing exaggerated crying and smiling masks and colorful robes are entertaining the citizens. Tickets for the grand theater have been scalped to exorbitant prices, making them unaffordable for everyone. Therefore, the performances outside the theater are also crucial.

El suddenly saw a dwarf clown with a comical bald head performing an exaggerated act, and couldn't help but let out a soft exclamation.

He recognized the man; a famous figure in the court, a royal jester, a clown who entertained his master with jokes when he was bored.

El sighed softly, not with any other meaning, but because he felt that His Highness was indeed concerned about the country while governing, but these were just small favors that could not reach everyone.

……

Inside the grand theater, the highlight of the Dionysian Festival—the drama competition—began.

In the coming days, young playwrights from all over the country will take to the stage with their proudest works, staging a magnificent tragedy, a comedy full of laughter, a love story interwoven with sweetness and frivolity and mixed with a bit of vulgarity, and a satirical play with no taboos and a sharp touch every day.

This tradition has a long history. For thousands of years, countless audiences have witnessed playwrights achieve great success and shine brightly when they premiere in grand theaters, or suffer utter failure and fall to their deaths.

It's important to understand that the relationship between playwrights and actors is one of mutual enhancement. A great actor can turn ordinary lines into something extraordinary, while a mediocre actor can ruin an excellent script.

Therefore, good actors are always in high demand.

As a result, Catherine, the "Queen of Opera," saw her value skyrocket, and her name was already at the top of the list of actors in a highly anticipated tragedy, with her chances of winning growing ever stronger.

Those playwrights who also longed for her favor but unfortunately arrived too late could only sigh in frustration and turn their attention to other equally excellent actors who were clearly inferior in appearance, temperament, singing and acting skills.

At this moment, the air backstage of the theater is filled with an atmosphere of excitement and tension.

The actresses included both humans and succubi. Some were touching up their makeup in front of the mirror, some were carefully smoothing out the wrinkles in their costumes, and some were quietly practicing their lines and movements for the upcoming performance.

Catherine belonged to the latter group. She was quietly reviewing her script when she heard her colleagues whispering beside her: "Did you... receive it? The... invitation for tonight?"

"Shh—! I'm from tomorrow, but by the Queen's grace, I'm already counting down in my head. I can't wait to go and participate. Rehearsals have been so tiring, I can finally relax a bit."

Catherine's fingers, which were turning the pages of the script, paused almost imperceptibly. Her gaze did not leave the script, but she knew exactly what the invitation they were talking about was—something that circulated secretly among the aristocratic social circles like a sexually transmitted disease.

Chapter 110 An Invitation to Lust (2)

Its destination leads to a private club that supposedly offers unparalleled sensory pleasure and washes away all fatigue. Although it sounds somewhat illegitimate, every invitee knows the unspoken allure of the strange invitation.

Sometime later, the script had turned to the last page.

Instead of a blank space or the words "The End," an invitation was found tucked inside.

Catherine's heart skipped a beat; as one of the best in the troupe, she had naturally received an invitation as well.

The invitation was not made of ordinary parchment, but rather a smoother, velvety texture. The lettering was a deep purplish-red, and the ink itself seemed to carry a sweet, alluring fragrance.

The text layout is extremely simple, yet the choice of words and sentence structure is captivating:

To all the unfulfilled goddesses in the mortal world,

Are you tired of a dull and boring life?

Do you want to be the master of your own body?

Please come to the holy temple of bliss, the origin of desire.

Here, you will experience a wonderful sensation that transcends physical limitations, but it will not affect your life in any other way.

It sounds pretty good...

However, the moment the thought crossed her mind, Catherine realized something was wrong and her heart clenched. She looked up and saw that her face was covered in white lead powder, making her look pale, but her cheeks were strangely flushed. Something was burning deep in her eyes, and anyone could see the desire in her eyes.

Just then, someone knocked on the door and came in, breaking the somewhat strange atmosphere.

"Catherine, sweetheart, it's time to go backstage!" The troupe leader's gentle voice came from behind her, her expression charming and her tone full of love and pride for Catherine.

Catherine instinctively slammed the script shut, sealing the purple invitation inside.

She thought to herself, "I must be crazy to believe something of unknown origin!"

……

Meanwhile, on the other side, El had already pulled Satella into the private room, and they sat close together, as if they were conjoined twins.

Since there were no outsiders present, El's fingers brazenly slipped under his sister's skirt and gently caressed her back and forth. Satella, on the other hand, was almost half-leaning in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder, occasionally letting out a soft moan or two.

On stage, the first act has already begun.

"O arrow of Cupid, sweet poison!"