Some residents on this floor heard the tinkling of the bells but paid it no mind, assuming it was just some mischievous child dashing through the corridor with a set of wind chimes.
It was a little past one in the afternoon, with sunlight streaming in and the corridor far from dim. Those left at home were typically the elderly or housewives, while the men were out working. The female lead in the original story knew this well, which was why the corridor exposure training had been arranged.
Yang Haoran was tense to the extreme, his heart pounding wildly as his eyes darted nervously toward the doors of the various apartments. He dreaded the moment one of them might creak open.
Shen Qing was no less anxious. Even with her intimate knowledge of the plot, the psychological impact was overwhelming. In broad daylight, dressed—or rather, undressed—in such an exposing manner, crawling down the corridor on all fours like a Bitch, collared and leashed by a chain. Her body trembled uncontrollably, and two vivid flushes bloomed across her stunning cheeks.
The corridor was utterly empty, yet she felt as though countless silent gazes were fixed on her from the void, making her skin crawl. At the same time, that intense thrill permeated her mind and body, drawing her inexorably into addiction, savoring the ecstasy of exposure.
“Tinkle, tinkle… tinkle, tinkle…” Her quivering, snow-white breasts heaved and swayed like rolling waves, the golden small bell dangling from them chiming a beautiful melody through the deserted hallway.
“What’s all this racket in broad daylight?”
An angry shout arrived before its source. With a click, a door swung open. An ordinary-looking middle-aged woman stormed out, her face twisted in fury. She had intended to scold whatever brat was making the noise, but the sight that greeted her left her momentarily stunned.
There, on the tiled floor of the corridor, crawled a shameless woman, her upper body completely bare, her limbs propelling her forward. She wore only sheer, thin black pantyhose on her lower half. A black collar was clearly visible around her pale neck, connected to a long silver chain gripped in the hand of a teenage boy.
At the sound, Shen Qing’s voluptuous, mature body jolted sharply, and Yang Haoran flinched in terror.
“You…” Sun Ying stepped closer and froze again upon recognizing the boy from earlier—and the slutty vixen, Shen Qing. A suspicion crystallized in her mind. Her expression shifted, and rage exploded from her. In a shrill voice, she shrieked, “Well, well! No wonder someone’s crawling around naked like a dog on a leash. It’s you, you slutty fox spirit! What a bitch—pah! Someone come he—mmph mmph…”
Seeing her about to scream, Yang Haoran’s eyes narrowed. He lunged forward, clamping a hand over her mouth. “Don’t shout! Quiet down!”
“Mmph mmph…” Sun Ying’s eyes bulged, but with her mouth sealed tight, she couldn’t utter a word.
“If you dare yell,” Yang Haoran growled with a fierce glint in his eyes, “I’ll drag you into a room and have my way with you.” Noting her terrified expression, he softened his tone. “But if you pretend you saw nothing… look, there’s a whip on the ground. You can take it and lash this Bitch a few times to vent. I know you’ve had it in for her for ages.”
Sun Ying blinked frantically to signal her understanding. Yang Haoran scrutinized her for a moment, satisfied she wasn’t faking, and released his grip.
“Shame Value +40”
“Shame Value +30”
“Ding… Shame Value has reached 100. Occupation activated.”
“Player Shen Qing, Bitch Class. Duty: Every seven days, the Controller must fit a collar and leash you for a three-hour walk.”
Shen Qing huddled like a frightened rabbit, her body quaking. Yet the shock of being seen in such a degrading state ignited a fierce thrill. Her beautiful eyes gradually glazed over with lust, her cheeks burning crimson, ears aflame. Even the system prompt echoing in her mind sounded distant and muddled.
“Aren’t you two mother and son?” Sun Ying panted, turning to Yang Haoran.
“How could we be?” He shook his head. “You saw it yourself—she’s just a Bitch I keep as a pet. I was only taking her out for a walk when you stumbled upon us.”
“You’re utterly depraved,” Sun Ying said, approaching Shen Qing and looking down at her.
“Mm, I’m a slut!” Shen Qing’s face flushed with shame under that contemptuous gaze, filling her with mortification. She bowed her head slightly, her trembling voice murmuring the admission.
What Sun Ying didn’t notice was the inexplicable excitement mingling with the shame on Shen Qing’s downcast face—like that of a true masochist.
“Slut, look up at me.”
When Shen Qing wouldn’t meet her eyes, Sun Ying seized her hair and yanked her head up, forcing eye contact.
Sun Ying’s face brimmed with exhilaration. The chance to hurl insults while the other woman endured in silence offered a perfect outlet for her long-pent-up resentment.
Gazing at Shen Qing’s breathtakingly beautiful features, a flash of jealousy crossed Sun Ying’s eyes. She swung her hand hard.
Slap!
A clear handprint bloomed on Shen Qing’s right cheek.
The stinging pain made Shen Qing moan softly, as if savoring it. Her mature body writhed restlessly.
“Truly a cheap whore—getting off on being slapped.” Sun Ying recognized the look in her eyes and the seductive moan. As a woman herself, how could she miss that Shen Qing was enjoying it?
Sun Ying raised her rough palm for another strike, but Yang Haoran intervened.
“We agreed: only the whip, and just three lashes,” he said.
Watching Aunt Shen being tormented—even if by someone else—stirred a sadistic pleasure in him through the visual alone. Still, he preferred inflicting it himself; no one else’s abuse could match that satisfaction. So he stopped Sun Ying.
With Yang Haoran putting his foot down, Sun Ying relented with a wave of her hand. She was still wary of this boy—his ruthless gaze marked him as a thug.
Since he wouldn’t let her slap the vixen’s face, Sun Ying’s eyes gleamed with a new idea for venting.
Her gaze roamed over Shen Qing’s voluptuous curves—the perky, plump rear, the massive snow-white breasts, the fox-like seductive beauty. Every aspect crushed her own, fueling her envy.
Her one shred of superiority? This woman was a shameless Bitch, while she was a respectable housewife.
Sun Ying grabbed one of Shen Qing’s snow-white breasts and kneaded it viciously. “Tits this huge? Born slut through and through. I used to think you were just a kept woman, seducing men for a living. But you’re so low you’d let a boy turn you into his dog.”
