When admitting a mistake, one must act like it.
Moreover, Fei’ouna was self-aware enough to know exactly what she had done today to disrespect her master.
First, she had attacked her master with a punch 👊🏻, and then she had made questioning remarks.
If the rules were followed, what awaited her next was experiencing those custom-tailored torture packages designed specifically for her.
Though Iris hadn’t spoken yet, Fei’ouna was sensible enough that, after confessing her error, she immediately dropped into a formal kneeling position before her master, waiting for punishment to descend.
Of course, she wasn’t afraid—in fact, quite the opposite, she was somewhat eager.
What could she do?
Fei’ouna had already been conditioned into the Demon King’s shape 😨
And Iris, who knew her inside out, was well aware of that too.
Looking at Fei’ouna’s demeanor, on the surface she was kneeling in sincere apology.
But in reality, there was something off about her gaze.
Iris didn’t detect a hint of fear from it.
What she saw was a female dragon trying to provoke her.
Even though she was already the mother of two daughters, every single glance, smile, gesture, and posture was no different from a young maiden—just with a faint, elusive, barely noticeable hint of mature charm.
She was a good maiden, fitting Iris’s tastes and aesthetic, but Iris had truly entered her post-coital clarity, free from desire.
It had only just ended last night…
And now, at the first opportunity, she was trying to stir something up.
To this, our Demon King simply thought: Don’t even think about it!
Moreover, she had just the perfect trick to deal with Fei’ouna.
So Fei’ouna saw that long-lost wicked smirk on the Demon King’s face.
“Heh, you don’t actually think punishment and pleasure are the same thing, do you, my foolish beloved wife?”
Hmm…
How strange.
Why would a single sentence from Iris make her feel creeped out?
Could it be…
A playstyle she’d never seen before?
But before she could think further, Iris made her move.
At that same shocking speed, Fei’ouna only blinked, and every shred of fabric on her body had already been annihilated into imperceptible dust by a series of void slashes.
Then, Fei’ouna knelt there, completely naked.
Would she feel embarrassed?
A little, certainly, but not enough to blush as red as a boiled 🦞.
At most, a faint flush tinted her skin.
Moreover, Fei’ouna only shuddered slightly, not enough to break her kneeling posture.
After all, compared to her past experiences, this was just a minor game.
So the question was, what would Iris do to her next…
Yeah, what would she do? 🤔
Thus, under Fei’ouna’s curious gaze, Iris simply snapped her fingers, and the bone whip that had just been broken and freed reappeared intact in her hand.
Was she going to play at whipping?
To be fair, although Fei’ouna possessed the defensive divine skill [Adaptation], she couldn’t fully block the sensory impact from the outside world.
Normal pain was fine—she could endure it, and it would disappear quickly.
Moreover, as the Shield Hero, her tolerance was naturally formidable.
Ordinary attacks couldn’t even break the basic magic barrier around her body, let alone hurt Fei’ouna.
But Iris’s whip could not only spin her like a top, but also carried a defense-piercing effect that tore through everything.
Even if she could adapt to the tearing, the pain remained.
A single hit or two would make her involuntarily scream, roll on the ground, and cry uncontrollably.
Because it was an attack that touched the soul, beyond the control of willpower.
So, Fei’ouna was both afraid and expectant.
Fear was understandable; as for anticipation, it was because she hadn’t experienced it in a long time.
This thing was far more intense than last night’s brand execution.
Just thinking about it gave her a bittersweet thrill.
But in reality, Iris had no intention of whipping her.
If Fei’ouna had jumped in her face with taunts or committed some grave offense that couldn’t be forgiven, then maybe she would bring out this ultimate domestic punishment and remind her of the fond memories dominated by that bone whip.
But right now, she was about to do something quite serious.
Just a few minutes ago, Iris had lifted the seal on Fei’ouna.
Although the seal’s removal restored Fei’ouna’s ability to release magic, it also exposed her aura.
Even though she had been corrupted and demonized into a Demon Dragon, the Shield Hero’s aura still remained; it was just that the seal had made it temporarily hard to detect.
But now that the seal was gone, as long as she used magic, Fei’ouna could be sensed.
Especially since one of the humans’ primary objectives in this war was likely related to her.
So what Iris had to do was put a protective garment on Fei’ouna—the bone whip in her hand.
Of course, this bone whip was also significant.
It wasn’t refined from some monster’s bones but taken from Iris’s overgrown vertebrae.
Though it was a weapon for combat, it could also be used to make a close-fitting protective undergarment.
Thus, Fei’ouna watched Iris swing the bone whip.
And at that moment, she instinctively closed her eyes tightly.
The bone whip did land—after all, something had struck her body; she couldn’t ignore it.
The texture of the barbs was right, but the problem was, why didn’t it hurt?
Instead, it felt like something was wrapping around her body from head to toe…
“Huh?”
Opening her eyes, Fei’ouna saw that the Demon King’s “personal weapon” had, like a flexible tentacle, tightly bound and enveloped her body.
Moreover, it began to change shape, splitting and proliferating into finer, longer strands.
In no time at all, Fei’ouna was wearing this hollowed inner garment woven from bone chains.
The coverage of the bone chains was extensive—from the neck downward, trunk, limbs, and even her delicate fingers and round, pearl-like toes were not spared.
As for the experience, the most intuitive feeling was extreme tightness.
Even slight movements produced noticeable feedback.
It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was very strange.
A bit painful, a little itchy, much like the sensation of skin being bruised and then teased by feather sweeps and suction cups.
She was curious what it would feel like if she stood up and moved vigorously.
But Fei’ouna’s biggest confusion was why her master was giving her own weapon to wear as clothes.
Could it be that she had really developed an even more outrageous playstyle?
“Master…”
“This…”
“Is this a new torture device?”
Correct, in a sense, this bone-whip tentacle garment could absolutely serve as a torture device.
Since Iris had already put out harsh words, she naturally had to demonstrate its niche application.
“You can think of it that way.”
“And what’s coming next will be quite wild.”