Succubus Academy

Villette gently pressed her pale palm against Link's chest.

Her petite body looked alluring under the moonlight, while her slippery thighs were clamped around Link's waist, left and right, swaying slightly under the soft mattress.

That full, shapely ass swayed in the air without any restraint, flaunting its beautiful curves and elasticity with impunity.

The most intimate parts of the two were just less than 10 centimeters apart. His erect rod could even feel the warm breath coming from above, subconsciously wanting to push into that wet and soft nest of lust, but its owner desperately suppressed the impulse with reason, tensing his nerves and sticking tightly to the mattress, unwilling to push upward.

But the young girl didn't let him wait long, the palm that was pressed against his chest pressed slightly harder and took the initiative to press that honeyed ass down.

Suppressed moans of pleasure and trance-like gasps leaked from Link's mouth.

At just the moment of penetration, the layers of lustful flesh seemed to lick at the rod as if it were a hungry and thirsty suitor for life, the hot and moist pussy lips mischievously kissed the root of the rod and gulping at it along with its owner's breath.

The entrance to the ring-shaped folds and labia tightly hooped the root of the meat stick, as if it was a prison gate blocking the prisoners' escape.

The channel that had become rugged from the middle end tightened the moment the glans entered. The walls of flesh covered with granules squeezed the glans inside it relentlessly. The buds of flesh protruding from the granules pressed against the glans' path forward, like countless tiny tongues licking gently at it.

Obviously, it was a narrow channel so tight that it made Link's rod slightly deformed, but an incredible wrapping sensation could be felt from it.

Every student at this academy had a lustful pussy that was strong enough to make even a trained man surrender just by thrusting into it. The organ that existed from birth only for the purpose of squeezing sperm seemed to signal the miserable state of a man's subjugation.

But Link's brain, which was gradually melting with the softness of this honey hole, knew clearly that this was only the beginning.

So, Villette moved.

Like a monster awakening from sleep, the honey pot stirred.

The folds and grains of flesh rubbed against the rod, raised buds and suction cups stimulating the sensitive weak spots on the rod with precision, while the tight, sticky womb opening was like a tiny mouth, gluing itself to the meatus like a baby sucking on its mother's teats.

It was like an organized symphony, the wriggling of the flesh became the accompaniment, the bumping of the honey ass became the drum beat, the slender waist became the baton that dominated the performance, and the moan that burst out from the throat like a scream under the wave of pleasure became the horn that led the obscene performance into the climax.

No one could imagine that Villette's face remained impassive during all of this.

The cavernous channel twisted like a dough ball into various shapes under the stormy movements, squeezing the hard rod from all sides.

The regular caresses that were still traceable turned into an unpredictable storm of excitement that drowned any victim caught in the middle of the lustful waves.

Bone-crushing pleasure ravaged Link's body, causing him to instinctively quiver helplessly, holding on for dear life under Villette's soft yet slender, delicate body.

Villette's cherry lips parted slightly and she exhaled a soft, wet, and hot aroma.

Succubi were far more physically powerful than the average woman, so such a strenuous ride was not even a warm-up for her.

She moved her hands from Link's chest to her legs, following the new moves she had learned in the course.

With that backward leaning motion of hers, the whole flesh became taut all at once, the soft, sticky walls of flesh stretching into a smooth film driven by the fibers, brushing the surface of the glans, the fine grains and folds of flesh there wrapped around the rod, rubbing against it as if it were being pulled with both hands.

The new stimulation brought a steeply intensified shudder from Link, and his legs, already wet with sweat and lust, desperately tried to lift upward by instinct, but were unable to move under the pressure of Villette's palms.

Link barely caught a glimpse of Villette writhing up and down through his eyes that were blurred by tears and sweat.

In this position, it was as if Villette was purposely showing off her body so that Link could see every detail of her under the copulation.

Her pair of white, creamy breasts had been moisturized with sweat, jiggling up and down under her alluring collarbone, catching his eye like delicate pudding.

The rod seemed as if it was going to poke through the pussy, rising and falling with Villette's honeyed pussy, pushing up a small bulge against her smooth, not-at-all-flabby belly.

In her rear-facing position, her peach-like, full and soft pink ass slapped Link's balls up and down, urging him to produce more cum.

He had his second orgasm in a split second from Villette's new position, and even more cum than the first time spurted out, splashing out from their intersection without a pause, creating a lot of froth as the lips of her pussy and the flesh of her buttocks squeezed together.

Link's moans gradually took on a miserable tone. The afterglow of ejaculation was non-existent, the violent pleasure would allow no cushion.

His uncontrollable screams and pleasure-ravaged trance were reflected in Villette's amber pupils without a trace of concealment, and his demented look didn't change Villette's calm expression in the slightest.

To the other succubi, Link looked no different from the other slaves in his twisted expression and ragged panting, full of lust, trance, and ecstasy.

But Villette could clearly recognize Link's true face underneath the layers of discomfort and trance-like appearance.

It was as if a prisoner in chains was looking up at the window under repeated lashes, the uncontrollable screams and pains were nothing more than the instinctive reaction of the human body, and he was always, inwardly, looking beyond the prison to which he was bound.

She could also sense that the prisoner was beginning to try to break free of those cuffs again.

Knowing full well that human power could not break the bonds of steel, he continued to tirelessly try again and again to break the handcuffs open with his already strangled and purple arm.

The pain was so intense that it caused his expression to become distorted and his body to tremble continuously.

He bled as a result, but still didn't flinch.

To all the others, he looked so distinctly wretched like a beggar who was worse than a prisoner. Even the warders looked at him with sympathetic eyes.

No one could see the small struggle that was so weak as to be nearly nonexistent under his dirty body.

Villette varied her twists and turns, her soft body being bent into all kinds of seductive amplitudes that brought one intense thrill after another.

She was like a torturer wielding a whip, observing the prisoner's performance while adjusting the force and direction, constantly bringing him increasingly unbearable pain.

And the tied-up prisoner was trying to stop a freight train with a feather.

Within the confines of what the bindings could not constrain him, he held out against the lash of that whip, whether it was by slightly deflecting his head, or by slamming his head forward against the whip that was coming at him, even if it would have made the pain he suffered even more excruciating, he was holding out to give the torturer the little trouble he could muster.

He thus silently engaged in a revolt that belonged only to himself, happily clinging to it even if the shackles that held him captive had not even cracked a single time in all the years he had spent there.

Villette's pink ass slammed up and down against Link's belly like a fast-running pile driver, the writhing nectar hungrily sucking and clenching the rod that had barely been able to hold back for even a minute, warily spitting out white pulp.

With Villette's full force, the countless folds on the walls of the flesh were like elongated, dexterous tongues licking at the already sensitive and fragile rod. The labia that looked white and smooth from the outside had been transformed into a devil's cave that devoured the male's essence on the inside.

The prisoner wailed in agony under the chastisement of the sheer, tight honey pot, trembling so much that he let his life force fade away. Yet instead of granting mercy, the cold torturer increased the intensity of his chastisement.

Because the prisoner's spirit was not completely subdued.

The layers of tongue in that cavity turned into tentacles with the torturer's further punishment, snaking and writhing all over every inch of the surface of the rod, the sweet writhing bringing with it bone-crushing rubbing and swallowing.

Time seemed to stretch out in this punishment, as the intense and rapid stimulation made every ejaculation that became short-lived incredibly long.

Villette's waist was swinging in a sultry dance that was the complete opposite of her expression, and under her movements, Link's rod felt like it had already been melted by the fiery slutty cave, and its existence could no longer be felt, with only the pleasure that could burn the brain coming from the nerves all over his body vaguely still proving the existence of his lower body.

Villette wasn't amused by it.

She could feel the rod still twitching ever so slightly inside her pussy.

It wasn't so much an instinctive shudder from her pleasure as it was a minuscule thrust in an attempt to give each other pleasure.

It was when Link's consciousness had fallen into a blur that the nerves of the flesh instinctively carried on a small resistance.

Villette closed her eyes softly.

Her thighs gently clenched around her already weakened waist, and that upturned honeyed ass descended once more, making a resilient snapping sound under the gentle slapping of her hips, muffling the sound of the water running so faint that it was like a pin dropping to the ground.

She stroked her sweat-dampened belly, and from within that soft layer of skin came a flow of heat that had grown so faint as it was barely perceptible.

The prisoner still couldn't break his chains this time.

Villette opened her eyes and looked at Link, who had become almost demented and could only instinctively gasp for air.

Her sweat-slicked hands brushed his chest.

Villette bent down and closed in on him.

Those soft breasts were squeezed against his chest, pressed into two ovals.

She snuggled up to Link like a lover, the two of them almost pressing their faces together.

The hot breath exhaled from the other man's mouth tickled the tip of Villette's nose a little.

The strands of hair that had been spread out during the intense exercise were scattered over her back, as if a thin violet-colored cloth was gently covering her soft and delicate body.

Under the bright moonlight that shone in through the window, her sweat-dampened skin reflected a milky white glow, adding an air of sanctity to her otherwise sultry and flirtatious appearance.

Seemingly due to the fact that she had just absorbed the essence of the life force, a hint of redness floated up to her cheeks, making her expression, which was originally lacking in emotion and appeared to be ice-cold, become delicate and moving all of a sudden.

Her amber eyes seemed to ripple, shimmering inexplicably in the moonlight.

Villette, at this moment, was like a princess descending in the moonlight, and her bright eyes under her stunning beauty were enough to make any man's heart willingly captured by her.

With her pretty face nearing touching his, Villette came up to Link's ear as if she were whispering to a lover.

She flicked her cherry lips and spat out the words that welled up from deep within herself.

The succubus magic mixed in her voice had disappeared at some point, and even she herself didn't notice that her cool voice was colored with softness and delicacy, as well as unconscious uneasiness.

"Link, I like you."