Hong Yilan stood there, her body like a statue with its soul extracted, on the verge of collapse. Her word "agree" was almost the greatest defeat in her life, more humiliating than any failed business contract. When had Hong Yilan, the financial queen of Shanghai, ever bent her knee? Her dignity, her pride, never allowed her to bow her head to anyone. Especially not… to a man, in such a vile manner. Her husband, the man who had shared her bed for many years, had never glimpsed the secret path within her. That soft territory, like her tightly guarded heart, had never been contaminated by any masculine desire. She prided herself on the fact that it was her last sanctuary, her "mouth" still literally a virgin, pure and never having ingested anything dirty.
"President Hong, stop standing there like a statue." Seeing her standing motionless, the yellow-haired man's triumphant smile deepened, but a hint of impatience flashed in his eyes. "Don't make me say it again. Kneel down for me!" His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable command, each word like an invisible whip, lashing harshly at Hong Yilan's nerves.
Hong Yilan's body was as stiff as a stone, as if her joints had rusted, refusing to yield. Her mind went blank, all consciousness screaming, resisting this command. Kneel? How could Hong Yilan kneel? Her knees only bent for ancestral tablets, never yielding to any living being. That was her bottom line, her inviolable sacred ground.
Seeing that she hadn't moved for a long time, the blonde man's patience dwindled. He knew that words alone were not enough to tame this kind of woman. He stepped forward, his short stature belied the surprising strength he possessed. He reached out and roughly pressed down on Hong Yilan's shoulder, then abruptly grabbed the fabric behind her knee with his other hand, forcefully pressing it downwards.
"No!" A suppressed growl escaped Hong Yilan's throat, a trapped beast's lament, the queen's last struggle. She abruptly tensed her legs, trying to resist the pulling force. However, Huang Mao's strength was surprisingly great, his palm like iron pliers, clamping tightly onto her bones.
"It's not up to you!" Huang Mao grinned ferociously, increasing the force in his hands again, while using his knee to press against the back of her leg, giving it a sudden push. Hong Yilan felt her leg buckle, losing her balance, and unable to support herself any longer. Accompanied by the slight tearing sound of fabric, her knees slammed heavily onto the cold marble floor with a "thump."
A sharp pain shot from her knee, as if invisible steel needles were piercing into her bone marrow. She gritted her teeth, not allowing herself to cry out. This kneel was not only a physical humiliation, but also a complete spiritual collapse. She raised her head, her eyes filled with anger and despair, staring fixedly at the blond-haired man. Her gaze seemed to want to tear him apart alive.
The blonde man was unmoved, instead, he was becoming more excited by her humiliated and struggling appearance. He leaned down, his nose close to the top of her head, greedily inhaling the delicate fragrance emanating from her hair. It was the scent of top-tier shampoo mixed with her body odor, cool and noble, but at this moment, it made his heart flutter. "Tsk tsk, Director Hong, you smell so good." Like a beast smelling its prey, he closed his eyes in satisfaction, savoring the reality that this unattainable woman was now at his feet, within reach. Even in anger and humiliation, her body still exuded a tempting richness, like a frozen peony, slowly blooming with an alluring fragrance in the blonde man's breath. This fragrance, with her unique coolness and pride, was now being wantonly violated by him, the contrast making every pore on his body open in excitement.
"Now, take off my pants." The blonde man's command followed closely, his voice with a sickeningly cloying quality.
Hong Yilan's lips trembled. She wanted to refuse, but no sound came out. She wished she could die immediately rather than do this kind of thing. But she couldn't; her son's future and the reputation of her family were like shackles, firmly locking her in place.
She reached out her hand, that slender, pale hand, used to holding seals and signing multi-million dollar contracts, now trembling like a withered leaf in the wind. Her fingertips touched the yellow-haired man's belt, the rough fabric and cheap smell of which made her nauseous. Her movements were extremely slow, each tiny action carrying a weight of a thousand pounds of resistance, as if she weren't unbuckling a belt, but tearing her own soul apart.
"Hurry up!" the yellow-haired man urged impatiently, as he reached down, grabbed her slender wrist, and forced her trembling hand onto his zipper. He roughly pulled down his zipper, making a harsh "ripping" sound.
As the zipper slid down, a wave of stench compounded of sweat, fishiness, and some indescribable male hormone assaulted her nostrils. Hong Yilan's stomach churned, and she nearly vomited bile. Enduring the nausea, she lowered her gaze to see a dense patch of black pubic hair, and rising menacingly from that dark forest, an ugly and grotesque phallus.
It was as thick as a forearm, with an unhealthy purplish-red tip, its veins clearly visible, like gnarled blue tendons, proclaiming its current state of arousal. It carried a nauseating, fishy stench, like a giant serpent crawling out of a pile of rotting flesh, ugly and terrifying. But what shocked Hong Yilan the most was its enormous size, which simply exceeded her meager imagination. She had never seen such a thick male member, let alone smelled such an unbearable stench.
"See clearly?" The blond guy snorted triumphantly, thrusting his hips forward violently. The already huge meat stick, under the influence of inertia, swung abruptly, carrying a warm, sticky sensation, and with a loud "slap," struck Hong Yilan's always proud and aloof cheek.
In that instant, Hong Yilan's brain felt like it had been struck by a heavy hammer. A nauseating, putrid smell, the rough texture of flesh, and the shocking force all surged into her senses. It wasn't any kind of contact she had imagined; there was no pleasure, only utter humiliation and defilement. The tip of her nose touched that rough glans, and the strong, almost suffocating, rank odor drilled into her nostrils like poison gas, shooting straight to her brain. She felt a sticky film on her face, as if smeared with some filthy liquid.
Her pupils suddenly constricted, the indifference in her eyes replaced by unprecedented horror and disgust. Humiliation, massive, devastating humiliation, engulfed her like a tsunami. Her proud face had just been slapped hard by this vulgar, foul-smelling filth! Her "virgin" mouth, her noble body, had been violated so cheaply!
That strike was not merely a physical blow, but a spiritual torture. Her body stiffened abruptly, as if drained of all strength. Her mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out, only rapid and heavy breathing. Shame, anger, disgust, fear - all the negative emotions exploded in her chest, weaving into an airtight net that bound her tightly. She knelt on the ground, her cheek defiled by that ugly phallus, her eyes filled with ashen despair.