Seeing Yang Haoran’s greedy, blazing gaze rove hungrily over her body, Shen Qing looked immensely satisfied. All the effort she had poured into pleasing him had paid off handsomely.
“Like what you see, Little Ranran?”
Shen Qing lifted her enchanting eyes to glance at him, a flush of coy shyness coloring her face. Her black-stockinged legs rubbed together ever so slightly, the subtle motion enough to captivate and stir endless fantasies.
“I like it. God, I like it so much.” Yang Haoran’s voice trembled. She was perfection incarnate.
“Then your big sis has two choices for you.” Shen Qing coyly raised two slender, pale fingers and wiggled them before his eyes. “One: give up on Aunt Shen and ditch the plot. Two: stick to the plot—Aunt submits to you as her Master, becomes your Bitch, and turns into a lewd bitch beneath you. Which will it be?”
“Two… two…” Yang Haoran blurted out impatiently. Desire raged through him like an inferno; his cock throbbed painfully, straining against his pants like it could punch right through the fabric.
Any trace of pity he’d felt earlier was long forgotten. This seductive vixen needed to be fucked raw until she yielded completely, reduced to his personal fucktoy Bitch.
“Giggle…” Shen Qing laughed merrily at his response. “Little Ranran, you really are a pervert. Turning your aunt into your Bitch—if Ruoxi ever finds out, she won’t go easy on you~”
She drew out the final syllable, her ripe red lips parting and closing seductively. Yang Haoran’s gut twisted with lust; he ached to ram his cock down that pretty little throat.
“If Mom finds out, then she can be my Bitch too.” Knowing the plot inside out—and that Bitch and Master was penned by Aunt Shen himself—Yang Haoran had no fear of her uncovering his twisted desires. Hell, she might even help him claim Mom, just like the heroine in the story.
“Little Ranran, aren’t you scared Ruoxi would beat you to a pulp if she heard that?” Shen Qing teased, flicking her tongue over her lips. Then her tone shifted playfully. “Though picturing a icy beauty like Ruoxi as a Bitch… now that’s something to look forward to.”
Catching the hint in Aunt Shen’s words, Yang Haoran thrilled inwardly. No surprise there—she was the author of Bitch and Master, after all, and clearly harbored the same kinks in real life.
“Alright, it’s getting late. Aunt will wait right here. Head to my bedroom and grab the toys from beside the bed.” Shen Qing’s voice came out soft and sultry, dripping with allure.
The words sent a thrill straight to Yang Haoran’s core. He bolted for the bedroom, taking the stairs two at a time—his hurried steps betraying his burning eagerness.
Inside the bedroom, a shopping bag sat prominently beside the king-sized bed. Yang Haoran peered inside: an SM leather whip, black collar, silver chain leash, restraint ropes, velvet flogger, vibrating rod, anal plug, gag, nipple clamps, ankle cuffs, handcuffs… an impressive arsenal.
He hadn’t expected such a comprehensive collection. Stunned, Yang Haoran stared at the array of SM gear, his sadistic impulses igniting. His eyes took on a reddish gleam as he slipped fully into the role.
Clutching the bag, he hurried back out.
“Pick whatever you want. Use anything on me—Aunt’s all yours to play with~” Spotting Yang Haoran’s exit and the excited glow in his eyes, Shen Qing smiled enticingly.
“Mm.” A deep flush of exhilaration heated Yang Haoran’s cheeks. He’d never felt this pumped; his head swam with dizzying arousal.
Once Yang Haoran settled on the sofa, Shen Qing flashed a radiant smile and knelt gracefully before him. Her knees hit the cold floor with a soft thud, marking the true start of it all.
And yet, there on her knees before Yang Haoran, Shen Qing beamed with delight. Her seductive eyes sparkled with anticipation as she watched him dig through the bag.
What toys would Little Ranran pick first?
Yang Haoran started with the black collar—the dog collar. A long silver chain, about five feet, was locked to its D-ring, ending in a leather handle for the Master to grip his Bitch.
Sticking to the plot, he added the SM leather whip, handcuffs, ankle cuffs, and nipple clamps. No deviations for him.
“All set?” Shen Qing eyed the pile without a hint of fear.
“Mm. Come here, Aunt Shen. Collar first.” Yang Haoran could barely contain his excitement.
Shen Qing tilted her head slightly, baring the elegant curve of her ivory swan-neck in invitation.
Yang Haoran stepped up to Shen Devil, unfastened the collar, and slipped it around her creamy throat before snapping it shut. The black leather now hugged Aunt Shen’s neck securely.
The stark contrast between the dark collar and her porcelain skin evoked a raw, erotic decadence.
Eyeing the remaining toys, Yang Haoran opted for the nipple clamps next. Serrated edges gleamed menacingly, a golden small bell dangling below—premium SM fare designed to torment a woman’s sensitive buds.
“Aunt Shen, nipple clamps first?” Yang Haoran asked, as if seeking permission, though he knew she’d agree.
“Sounds perfect. Bet they’ll look amazing on me.” Shen Qing replied with a flirtatious grin. She reached up and undid her cheongsam’s buttons herself: one, two, three, four.
With each pop, the parted neckline revealed more tantalizing cleavage. Her massive, pale breasts swelled like twin mountain peaks.
The gaping fabric couldn’t hide their sheer scale. Her skin gleamed like polished marble, smooth as cream, radiating a soft luster that begged to be touched. A deep valley of cleavage plunged between them, so tight it promised untold pleasures to anyone bold enough to dive in and savor their rich, milky fragrance.
Four buttons undone, and out bounced her enormous snowy tits like a pair of playful white bunnies, fully bared to Yang Haoran’s ravenous stare.
Atop each snowy mound stood a proud, erect cherry nipple—pink and delicate, glistening invitingly like fresh, ripe grapes waiting shyly for a man’s lips.
“Aunt Shen, how are your nipples so pink?” Yang Haoran blurted, equal parts thrilled and baffled.
“Don’t you like them?” Shen Qing shot back with a sultry smile, dodging the question.
“I love them. It’s just… these vicious clamps on such tender pink buds feels almost criminal.” Yang Haoran lied through his teeth.
Spotting the raw hunger in his eyes, Shen Qing leaned in. “They’re this pretty so abusing them hits even harder, right, Little Ranran? These slutty tits and nipples? All prepped just for you~”
Aunt Shen’s whorish, degrading tone only fueled Yang Haoran’s fire.
