Volume 10 Chapter 6 The Laughing Succubus Princess⁕
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
Kispe’s body trembled where she stood. A high-pitched moan slipped from her lips, and she quickly pressed a hand to her mouth, as if to catch it too late.
”Ohh… Master!” she gasped, her voice thick with longing.
Her cheeks flushed crimson as she gazed at Klock with melting eyes, clinging to him with her stare. He lounged in his chair, watching her with a lazy grin, utterly at ease. His hands moved with purpose, stirring wet sounds that echoed through the tent.
”Ahh… ahh… how is it, Master?” Kispe panted, her voice shaking. “Am I… pleasing you?”
”Hmm.” Klock tilted his head, smirking. “Dunno. Still figuring that out.”
Her underwear was gone, her breasts and most intimate parts laid bare. Klock’s fingers teased her relentlessly, savoring the sight of the young woman unraveling before him.
This was the famed Princess Asura—once feared as a queen, now moaning without restraint. Her breasts swayed with every shudder, her thighs slick with undeniable desire, her body betraying her in ways no excuse could cover.
Was this what it meant to dominate? Kispe’s flushed cheeks and ragged breaths stirred something deep in Klock. The sweet girl he’d known was gone, replaced by this raw, primal version of herself, brought to life by his touch. Watching her made his pulse race. The feel of his fingers inside her was intoxicating, a reminder of his control. This was real. He was the one taming Kispe.
”Kispe,” he said, voice low. “Take out my c**k.”
”Y-Yes…!” she stammered, her voice a mix of nerves and obedience.
Klock sprawled in his chair, legs wide, every bit the wicked lord toying with his prey. Kispe’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her delicate frame looking every inch the pitiful, beautiful slave. Her trembling fingers brushed against the bulge straining his trousers.
Her hands, unsteady from his relentless teasing, fumbled with the fastenings of his pants. Slowly, her slender fingers slipped inside, wrapping around him with a tentative grip before gently pulling him free.
Klock let out a low chuckle. So this is what victory feels like. The thought hit him hard. To have the enemy’s boss, the great Kispe, holding him like this—it was unreal.
Her touch was delicate, almost clumsy, but it only made the moment sweeter. Every brush of her fingers reminded him: She’s mine.
Kispe, without a word, gave a single, testing stroke. Then another, as if memorizing the feel of him. Her movements grew steadier, rubbing him with growing confidence. Her wide eyes locked on him, curiosity—or maybe awe—at his size flickering across her face. Even a succubus had to start somewhere, didn’t she?
”Kispe,” Klock said, his voice a low growl. “Hands on the desk. Turn around.”
The command was raw, unmistakable—a promise of what was to come. A defeated princess was nothing but a conqueror’s prize. It was the way of the world, crude as it sounded. And when the conqueror tired of her, she’d be passed down to his men.
Klock wasn’t a king, but he was a victor. Princess Asura was the loser, and in his hands was the right to do whatever he pleased. It was time to make her pay for her defeat.
Kispe let out a soft, teasing laugh. She stopped her hands, the wet sounds fading, and slowly withdrew her fingers from her trembling body. Her skin was soft, warm, impossibly inviting. Touching her like this felt better than anything, maybe because it was her—the Princess Asura, someone extraordinary.
Klock was lost in that thought when Kispe’s hands suddenly blocked his view. He blinked, confused, as she covered herself, hiding her ready body like a forbidden fruit.
”No, Master,” she said, her voice light but firm. “I’m your slave, not your lover. This is as far as it goes.”
”What?” Klock’s brow furrowed. He’d been so sure of the next step that her words didn’t register at first.
”What’re you talking about?”
Kispe’s lips curved into a sly smile. “If you touch me, Master, the Hero will kill me.”
”What?!”
It was like a bucket of ice water dumped over him. Klock’s mind reeled. Was there some contract that said she’d die if they went further? No—impossible. He’d been there when they branded her with the slave mark. There was no such rule.
”The Hero hasn’t forgiven me,” Kispe said, her voice steady now. “I’m alive only because I’m useful. Not for… this. If she finds out we went further, she won’t let me live. Are you willing to let me die just to satisfy yourself, Master?”
Her words hit like a slap. Let her die? How could he argue with that? The mood shattered, and he couldn’t just growl, Keep going.
”No, I… that’s not what I mean,” Klock muttered. “But why’re we assuming she’d find out?”
Kispe’s smile turned sharp, her eyes glinting with something between pity and mockery. “If the Hero asks, I can’t lie. And if she finds out, my life is over. If we do this, I’ll have to tell her myself—that you pushed me, that I refused but you insisted.”
”What?!” Klock’s jaw dropped. She’d snitch to Cianie and pin it all on him? Sure, in these situations, the guy always took the blame, but—
”You’re saying this now?” he sputtered. “After letting it get this far?”
Kispe’s smile widened, her gaze almost condescending. If Cianie found out he’d touched Kispe, what then? Cianie knew about his flings with others—Suzette, Meina—and tolerated them. But Kispe was different. If Cianie heard he’d forced himself on her…
”Master,” Kispe said, stepping closer, her voice soft but cutting. “The Hero despises me. Part of it’s because of how I’ve teased you, but that’s not all.”
Klock frowned. “What else?”
Kispe’s eyes sparkled with confidence. “Because I’m beautiful.”
She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
”If it’s some random woman, people might shrug and call it a fling. A prostitute? Just stress relief. But a beautiful woman like me? That’s unforgivable.” She leaned in, so close he could feel her breath, her perfect breasts swaying softly in his vision. “Because she might actually lose you to me. Even talking to me makes her jealous. Touch me, and she’ll lose her mind.”
Klock swallowed hard. She wasn’t wrong. Cianie was stunning, a beauty beyond mortal limits. But Kispe—Kispe matched her, just in a different way. Her face, her presence, her everything screamed danger. Cianie might tolerate others, but Kispe? Never.
”No matter how you justify it, she’ll be furious,” Kispe went on, her voice almost playful. “She might handle it if it’s someone she feels superior to. But me? A woman as beautiful as I am? She’ll imagine you falling under my charm, and she won’t be able to stand it. She’ll probably take my head to ease her pain.”
Klock’s throat tightened. “Y-Yeah… maybe.”
Kispe spoke of her own death like it was a bedtime story, calm and certain. Klock’s frown deepened, his mind racing. She’s pulling this now? But she wasn’t wrong. After begging for her life, to act like this… he had no defense. Could he really not touch her?
It felt like a trap, like she’d dangled a prize only to snatch it away. His thoughts scrambled for an excuse, a way to keep going. Then Kispe moved her hands, spreading her legs just slightly. Klock’s eyes flicked down, catching sight of her—ready, waiting, perfect.
His breath caught. She was right there, so close, so impossibly tempting.
Kispe’s fingers traced her skin, parting herself with a deliberate, teasing motion. Her untouched body glistened, quivering with want, slick and ready.
”My stomach’s burning,” she said, her voice soft and sultry. “Just thinking about you makes my heart race. Your fingers alone got me this worked up.♡ Is this… the moment when it’d feel best for a man to take me?”
Her words dripped with heat, her smile dangerously inviting. She was every inch a woman caught in desire, her eyes beckoning, daring him to claim her.
”So, what’ll it be, Master?” she purred. “Are we doing this?”
Klock felt like he’d been slapped. Hadn’t she just threatened to snitch if he tried? One moment she was warning him off, the next she was practically begging for it.
”No… I’m not doing it,” he muttered, his voice sharp with frustration. The words came out harsher than he meant, laced with irritation. Kispe’s face lit up with a childish, gleeful grin at his reaction.
She scooped the slickness from her thighs with a finger, holding it up to let it glisten in the light, taunting him. Her other hand brushed her breast, teasing the tip with a flick that made it sway. Her eyes burned into him, as if to say, Well?
This woman…
Klock’s jaw tightened. She was toying with him, plain as day. A demon through and through—a succubus who lived for this game, warning him off only to provoke him in the next breath. It hit him then: she thrived on twisting men around her finger.
”That’s right, Master,” she said, her voice mockingly sweet. “You can’t touch me. I said no, didn’t I? If you tried, it’d be r**e. And then the Hero would have your head, wouldn’t she?”
R**e? Klock nearly laughed. A woman saying no didn’t spread herself open like that. If she wanted to play the victim, she could at least act the part.
For a fleeting moment, he considered giving in, letting desire win. But then Cianie’s piercing, crystal-clear eyes flashed in his mind, and the urge sank like a stone. Those eyes saw through lies. If Kispe told her, Cianie would know it was true. And that… that would be bad. He couldn’t lie to her.
Frustration boiled inside him, directionless and raw. This was what it felt like to be played by a succubus, to be led on and left hanging.
”Well, can I put my underwear back on now?” Kispe asked, her tone dripping with mock innocence. She picked up her panties, dangling them in front of her face with a playful smirk, peeking out from behind them.
Klock had seen plenty of women, but none had ever flaunted their underwear like this. Only Kispe, brimming with unshakable confidence, could pull it off.
”Put your damn clothes on,” he growled.
Kispe giggled, her laugh like a bell. “Oh, good. Thanks to your cowardice, I escaped being ravaged.♡”
”You—!” Klock started, but she was already dressing, swift and graceful. Her perfect breasts disappeared beneath fabric, her skirt covering the body he’d brought to the edge.
Klock pressed a hand to his forehead, exasperated. If he couldn’t have her, there were others. He had a lover, after all. But the sting of missing out on Princess Asura—her allure, her rarity—gnawed at him. Being played like this… it was humiliating. Watching her dress felt like watching a treasure chest snap shut.
”Well, I’ll be going then,” Kispe said, her voice light. “Better tuck that hard-on away, Master. Showing it off when you don’t even have the guts to act on it… tsk.♡”
”What?” he snapped.
”Eek!♡ Don’t glare at me like that!” she teased, feigning fear. “It’s not my fault, you know. You’re the one trying to cheat on your lover.”
Klock fell silent, his scowl deepening.
”What’s with that face?” she continued, smirking. “Did you want me that badly?♡ Why not ask the Hero for permission then?”
”Permission?” he echoed, incredulous.
”Exactly,” Kispe said, her eyes gleaming. “Cheating’s no good, but if it’s allowed, what’s the problem? Tell the Hero you want to sleep with Kispe. I’m just a slave—if she says yes, I can’t refuse.”
”As if I’d say that!” Klock barked. Asking Cianie something like that? Even Suzette would lose it. Meina might gouge his eyes out.
”Too bad, Master,” Kispe said, her voice mockingly sympathetic. “You finally got me, and you can’t even have me. A virgin, too. Are you sure you want to miss out?”
Klock’s breath caught, his frustration spiking. She was relentless, swinging between rejection and temptation. A demon in every sense, twisting the knife with every word.
”You’re spineless, Master,” she said, her tone light but cutting. “Don’t blame me, though. You could’ve had me if you wanted. You just chose the Hero over me.”
Her words stung because they were true. He was holding back for Cianie’s sake. If he really wanted, he could take Kispe right now. But he had a lover. Even thinking about Kispe this way was a betrayal. If he were truly loyal, her naked body wouldn’t have swayed him at all. He’d left himself open to her games.
”There is a way to have me without worrying about the Hero,” she added casually.
Klock’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
She sauntered toward the tent’s entrance, pausing to glance back. A cryptic smile played on her lips as she let out a soft, chirping laugh. “Good night, Master. Sweet dreams…♡”
With a playful wave, she slipped out of the tent, her voice lingering. “Come play with me again soon!♡”
Klock stood frozen, watching her go, unable to muster a reply. He was left alone, his body still buzzing with pointless desire.
What the hell was that? he thought, fuming. Did she just come here to mess with me? Damn her!
He’d been played. A deep, heavy sigh escaped him as he slumped, defeated.
What a manipulative bitch. She looked so innocent, but she was the kind of evil virgin who toyed with men for sport. To think he’d let a woman get the better of him at his age. The frustration burned, a familiar ache from his youth.
Memories flooded back—days in the kingdom, chasing women who played the same games. Barmaids who teased but never gave in, milking him for drinks. Escorts who whispered sweet promises, only to ditch him when his coin ran dry. Thieving women who lured men in, then cried assault when things turned sour.
The memories made his blood boil. He’d learned to spot these types in his teens, the kind of women you didn’t mess with. Yet here he was, letting Kispe exploit his weakness.
It used to be like this all the time, he thought, his mind wandering to past encounters. Back then, he’d learned travelers were easier targets—no ties, no consequences. He’d charm them, take them to an alley, and move on. Eventually, he became the one playing the women at their own game. Why am I even thinking about this?
Frustration boiled inside him, and he needed an outlet. “Alright,” he muttered, half-defiant. “Time to find someone to make me feel better.”
It was almost a taunt to himself, a reminder he had other women. But deep down, he swore he’d make Kispe pay for this someday. In his mind, he flipped off the dreamworld where she’d bested him.
His eyes flicked to the desk, where a pen and paper sat waiting. A half-written letter to Kreis, reporting the situation. It can wait till tomorrow, he decided. He wasn’t in the mood.
Stepping out of the tent, Klock wandered into the campsite, the starry sky glittering above.
The night was still young, and voices drifted through the campsite, lively and warm. Klock’s eyes and ears, almost against his will, kept catching on the women around him. It wasn’t intentional, just instinct—but it irritated him to think Kispe’s teasing had left him smoldering, his body still restless.
Cianie still hadn’t returned. He’d expected her back by now. Where is she, and what’s she doing? Suzette and Meina were bunked with Rosalie in their tent. That left Primlena and Flavia. Where were those two?
The tent where the two otherworldly princesses rested was just nearby. His mind conjured an image of Primlena, the orange-haired Merfolk princess, reluctantly giving in to a man’s advances. Target acquired.
He strode toward their tent with familiar confidence, but when he stepped inside, he froze. He hadn’t expected to come face-to-face with her—and certainly not like this.
Primlena turned, her face puffy and red. She sat on a simple cot, her head clearly just buried in the blankets. The traces of tears lingered on her cheeks, and Klock felt like he’d been doused with cold water again.
”Hey—what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice rough with concern.
”Nothing,” she snapped. “What do you want?”
”No, no, no, hold on,” he said, stepping closer.
Her long orange hair swayed as she turned her back to him, hiding her face. But it was too late—he’d seen the evidence.
”That’s not ‘nothing,’” he pressed. “What happened?”
”Shut up,” she said, her voice sharp. “If you don’t have a reason to be here, get out.”
Her tone carried a raw edge, a hint of pain woven into the words. She refused to look at him, her shoulders tense.
The sea princess had been crying, alone in the dark. A bad feeling twisted in Klock’s gut. All by herself, in this tent, face pressed into the bedding, letting tears fall where no one could see.
Did I… make her cry?
When a woman in Klock’s life cried, he was usually the reason. The realization hit him hard. He’d come here, still worked up from Kispe, planning to let Primlena take care of his frustration. A guy like that wasn’t innocent. Her tears were probably his fault.
This was it, then—a test of what kind of man he really was.
Notes:
• Cianie – A noble girl with a fluffy white and light blue dress, indicating her high status. She has a hesitant and flustered personality but is kind and courteous. Her relationship with Klock begins as an accidental encounter and develops into a romantic interest. She has a fiancé but expresses feelings for Klock, complicating their relationship.
• Meina – She is a golden-haired catgirl employee of the beastman (Larana the cat woman) Inn, appeared performing fellatio, desperate and tear-streaked, with an inexperienced yet earnest approach to her work.
• Suzette – The older maid from Viscount Fennec. The head maid at the Viscount Fennec’s villa. She is confident, clear-spoken, and professional.
• Kreis – Baron of Valture and district chief. A middle-aged noble weighed down with gold chains and jeweled rings, yet it’s his hawk-like eyes and sly smile that mark him as dangerous. He meets Klock at the Borges family’s social gathering, greeting him by name as Maria’s son before Klock can even introduce himself—like a predator that already knows its prey.
• Flavia – Younger Forestkin princess (132). Gentle yet resolute. Sent by Queen Isabella as marriage pledge to Klock, the Chain Binder, symbolizing the Void’s loyalty to the Goddess Teekua.
• Primlena – Orange-haired merfolk priestess, fierce yet elegant | First v8c3 | Sister of Sea General Primjune, subordinate to Primrity | Once captured and violated by Klock, now obsessed with reclaiming honor | Commands Obsidian Riders on giant fish, fights with trident | Seeks to drag Klock to Seabed Temple for marriage trial or execution | Unique note: revenge-driven siren bride who masks fury under ritual grace
• Rosalie – Daughter of Viscount Albert Fennec, district chief of Basselow. Formerly weak and bedridden under Suzette’s care, she recovered after escaping Basselow’s fall to the Demon Lord’s Army. Now sheltered by House Borges, she stands as the surviving heir to the Fennec title.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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