Hot. By now, the breath and atmosphere in the room had grown ambiguous to the point of scorching.
And thinking about how earlier he had hesitated, only for Astreia to withdraw the further “punishment” over the leg matter, Wendy no longer suppressed himself and unleashed upon Laxana. For a time, the room was filled with Laxana’s pleas for mercy—mingled shame, indignation, and longing—along with Astreia’s satisfied, comfortable hums, forming a bizarre yet stimulating duet.
“It seems little Shanna still hasn’t fully let go~”
Astreia was extremely pleased with the scene before her. To further crush Laxana’s psychological defense, she issued a new command to Wendy.
“Wendy, this alone isn’t enough. Go get that pen and fill in all the empty spaces on this good sister of mine for This King—write ‘tally marks’ all over her. Let her remember this shame well.”
Hearing this command, Laxana shook her head desperately, tears mixing with the still-wet ink stains on her face, making her look utterly pitiful.
“Don’t listen to her… don’t… Astreia, please… Wendy…”
Laxana pleaded incoherently, her body trembling more and more violently, her expression terrified, yet a trace of indescribable anticipation flickered in her eyes.
Wendy saw that anticipation.
He did not follow Astreia’s command to go get the feather pen.
Instead, he smiled and said, “No, I have a better idea, Teria.”
With that, Wendy eagerly broke free from between Astreia’s legs, grabbed the still-trembling Laxana, and dragged her directly to the large dressing mirror in the corner of the room.
Astreia raised an eyebrow but did not scold Wendy for such disrespectful behavior. Instead, she watched with great interest, curious about what Wendy intended to do.
She adjusted her position, simply lying on her side on the bed, propping her head on one hand, those long beautiful legs clad in pink-purple pantyhose casually crossed, fully prepared to enjoy the show.
In front of the mirror, Laxana looked at herself—dressed in black fishnet, face and legs covered in ink marks—and felt so ashamed she wanted to find a crack in the floor to crawl into.
But the prince, now fully enthused, clearly had no intention of giving her that chance.
“First, squat down…”
Wendy gently placed his hands on Laxana’s waist, using his palms to guide her into a slow squat.
This position left Laxana in a half-squat resembling a horse stance, extremely taxing on leg strength.
“W-Wendy… this is so tiring… my legs are… what exactly are you trying to do?”
Laxana pitifully turned her head to look at the prince, her legs already beginning to weaken.
“Shh~”
Wendy pressed his index finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet.
“Be a good girl and obey. Next, raise both hands high and rest them behind your head.”
He ignored Laxana’s gaze—one capable of melting steel—and continued manipulating his own “puppet.”
Laxana’s body stiffened, as if hypnotized, and she actually did as told, as if possessed.
Instantly, the voluptuous contours already strained by the fishnet outfit—in this pose, requiring her to unconsciously arch her chest backward and stretch her waist—revealed an even more breathtaking posture, fully exposed to the air and clearly reflected in the mirror.
“So that’s it…”
On the bed, Astreia’s breath caught slightly. She had figured out something of the pattern, the curve of her lips growing more dangerous, malice flickering in her eyes.
This pose was practically designed to maximize the display of a woman’s body—its humiliation and its beauty.
But Wendy’s “artistic creation” was clearly not yet satisfied.
His commands continued.
“Stick out your tongue, stretch it hard…”
Laxana blankly obeyed, darting her tongue tip forward.
“Not forward!”
Wendy suddenly turned stern, rebuking, “Downward! Stretch it down with all your strength, as if trying to lick your own chin!”
Saying this, Wendy pinched that soft tongue tip struggling to extend and gave it a firm downward tug.
“Nngh!!!”
A tingling sensation shot from her tongue tip, and Laxana’s whole body went soft.
“Yes! Right there!”
Seeing the “beautiful scene” before him, Wendy’s voice trembled with excitement, like an artist who had finally found inspiration.
“Now, eyes—roll them upward!”
With this command, a scene was born in the mirror that made even Astreia’s breath stop.
The humiliating half-squat, the total submission of raised arms, the tongue helplessly dangling downward, and those violet eyes—unfocused, rolled upward.
Shame… humiliation, seduction, transgression, submission. Every emotion was magnified to the extreme in this pose, brewing into the most potent poison.
Such a vivid, erotic tableau brought a thousand times more psychological conquest than writing ten thousand “tally marks” on her body!
“Wendy…”
Astreia suddenly sat up from the bed, those long legs in pink-purple pantyhose taut and straight, staring fixedly at the magnificent sight in the mirror.
“You really are a genius!”
She lavished her praise without reservation, an unprecedented excitement and appreciation burning in her purple-flame magic eyes.
This man always brought her unexpected surprises!
However, Wendy’s mad creation was still not over.
“Not yet…”
He circled around Laxana like the most fastidious artist, examining his work, brow slightly furrowed, as if searching for that last trace of imperfection.
“Right now, Laxana!”
He suddenly stopped behind Laxana and directly used his hands to help manipulate her: “Both heels—push them outward toward the mirror with all your strength!”
“Let every part of you be displayed to perfection.”
This command was the crowning touch!
The leg muscles already taut from the half-squat were stretched to the extreme the moment the heels moved outward.
From ankle to calf, to inner thigh, every inch of skin presented a beautiful arc full of power and explosiveness, forming a stark contrast with the graceful curves of her upper body!
The Laxana in the mirror no longer resembled a living person at all.
She was more like a carefully sculpted… work of art—full of contradiction and conflict, embodying both humiliation and beauty.
Wendy looked at the masterpiece in the mirror with satisfaction, clapped his hands, and wore a radiant smile of accomplishment.
“How is it, Astreia?”
He turned his head, looking at Astreia on the bed who was now completely dumbstruck, and proudly tilted his chin.
“Does this work of mine pass your discerning eye?”
For a moment, only three heavy, rapid breaths remained in the room.
Just then, a low, dangerous chuckle broke the momentary silence.
It was Astreia.
She slowly rose from the bed, stepped forward on those long beautiful legs wrapped in dreamy purple stockings, step by step, with full pressure, walking toward the mirror.
High heels appeared from seemingly nowhere, clicking against the floor—”clack, clack, clack”—each sound striking Laxana’s heart.
“Genius.”
The witch walked behind Wendy, repeated the word, her voice low and husky, full of a unique magnetism.
“You truly are a genius. And a genius… deserves the finest reward.”
Her soft warmth pressed tightly against Wendy’s back, red lips drawing close to his ear, scorching breath spilling onto his earlobe.
“As for this… lovely work of art…”
Her burning breath brushed his neck, sending waves of shivers.
“We can go one step further.”