When the main villain was thrown in jail, I, blinded by lust, took advantage of the chaos and kidnapped his eight-pack-abs son. Every day was filled with kissing, touching, and all sorts of "training." The young man, stripped of his powerful backing, had no choice but to endure the humiliation unwillingly. Until one day, rumors spread that the villain was about to be released and was searching the world for his son. Panicked, I rushed back to my rental apartment to pack my bags and flee the country. Instead, I walked in on the boy, who was supposed to be tied to the bed, radiating a terrifying aura. A cigarette dangled from his lips as he tossed an evidence bag to his subordinate. "Let him rot in there for another ten years." Me: ???! 1 The first time I saw Song Qingli was at the H University basketball court. The boy lifted his shirt to wipe off sweat, inadvertently revealing a perfect set of eight-pack abs and a tantalizingly tapered waist. The drawstring of his gray sweatpants hung naturally over the bulge. It immediately caught my eye. I stood there observing for a long time, feeling a heat rise through my body. Conclusion: It's really big. Um... I mean the sun. Our eyes met. When Song Qingli saw me, a look of indescribable panic flashed through his eyes. He stopped playing and turned to walk in the opposite direction. I sprinted over to block him, intending to hand him the water I'd prepared, but only got a cold "Stay away from me." Oh my, a flower on a high peak, and a prickly one at that. Even better, hehe— My friend who invited me to H University was blunt: "Yaoyao, Song Qingli seems to hate you a bit." I nodded. "Normal." Ever since I hit my head at my coming-of-age party, I realized I was living in a novel. My parents are the main characters, and Song Qingli's dad is the world-destroying villain. Our families are mortal enemies, so naturally, Song Qingli wouldn't have a good attitude toward me. But as the saying goes, no matter how hard a man's mouth is, his lips are soft when you kiss them... After that day, I lowered my standards and pursued Song Qingli aggressively. He remained unmoved, avoiding me like the plague. The third time I wore a tube top, spaghetti straps, and a mini skirt, pretending to sprain my ankle in front of him and begging for help, I got caught. Song Qingli's villainous father pointed at my nose and threatened viciously: "As long as I live, you will never touch a single hair on my son's head." "Then may I ask, when would it be convenient for you to die?" Before I could finish, my parents burst in and dragged me home. My mom, who usually only cared about being lovey-dovey with my dad and ignored me, was furious for the first time: "Yaoyao, we are in a life-or-death struggle with the Song family. Song Qingli hates you, you won't be happy with him." I retorted silently in my heart: No, you don't understand, I will definitely be sexually happy! My dad spoke calmly to comfort her: "Honey, you're overthinking it. With Song Huairen around, our daughter won't get her hands on Song Qingli anyway." 2 But they didn't know that the villain Song Huairen was about to hit the plot point where he gets thrown in jail. That day, I stood in the most conspicuous spot: "Well, well, well, Mr. Not-a-Single-Hair, your son belongs to me now." Under the villain's murderous gaze, I led people into the villa and forcibly kidnapped Song Qingli. In the cramped rental apartment, for a full day and night, the boy refused to eat or drink, refusing to communicate. I understood that his family had suddenly met with disaster, the proud son of heaven had fallen from the clouds, and he couldn't bear the blow for a while. I specifically changed into a silk nightgown to feed him water and food. But Song Qingli kept his eyes shut tight, lips pressed together, motionless, stiff as a board, looking like he'd rather die than submit. No matter how I acted cute or seduced him, he remained unmoved. Finally, my patience ran out. I forced his mouth open mouth-to-mouth and roughly poured in the red date and goji berry water I had boiled. Song Qingli's eyes flew open, coughing uncontrollably. The water spilling from the corner of his mouth wet his shirt, sticking to his body and outlining his beautiful muscles: "What—what are you doing?" "Kissing." Looking at Song Qingli's expression of shock mixed with terror. Thinking back to the days when I humbly pursued love but was coldly rejected by him and humiliated by the villain. I felt a secret thrill. My thumb brushed over his rosy lips, and I chuckled: "A good boy like you, is this your first time kissing a girl? No wonder you're so inexperienced... why don't I teach you?" "Don't, don't touch me, dirty..." Song Qingli frowned, seemingly unable to bear hearing this, blushing furiously and deliberately turning his head away. My mood, which had been relatively pleasant, flared up again because of the word "dirty." The more reluctant he was, the more disgusted he acted, the more I deliberately bit his ear and said: "Song Qingli, your dad has done all sorts of evil things over the years. Those creditors outside are waiting to eat you alive." "Now, I'm the only one willing to protect you. In return, be my lover." Song Qingli seemed shocked by my bandit logic, a strange light flashing in his eyes as he forced out word by word: "Me, be your, lover?" "Yeah." "I can't," Song Qingli replied with trepidation. I laughed in anger: "Baby, do you think I'm negotiating with you?" "Since you don't want to be a lover, then be my dog." The boy said nothing, his thick eyelashes lowered, his fluffy head drooping, wet all over. He really looked like an unwanted puppy in the rain on the street. Although a top-tier handsome guy looking dejected is particularly pitiable. But I risked everything to save Song Qingli, not to watch him give me attitude. Smack— The handle of the whip slapped the boy's pale face, leaving a faint red mark. Not heavy, but extremely humiliating. Song Qingli raised his head a beat later, the corner of his mouth hooking up almost imperceptibly, fleetingly, so fast I thought it was an illusion. I lifted my leg, the tip of my high heel grinding and pressing circles on Song Qingli's eight-pack abs: "Don't ignore me, or I'll throw you to the creditors. In this rental, you only need to serve me. If you fall into their hands, being used as a rag would be a mercy." Song Qingli trembled all over, intense emotions surging in his eyes: "Chen Xueyao..." I increased the pressure under my foot, looking down at him: "Dogs are not qualified to call their master by name." "Serve me or be tortured to death by creditors, choose." The boy hissed in pain, arching his back, almost crawling on the ground. Even in such a humiliating posture, Song Qingli still didn't yield: "Just kill me—" "......" Burning with rage, I slammed the door and left, not noticing the boy staring at the whip in my hand with an obsessed look. 3 "See, you forced him to answer, and when he did, you weren't happy. But it's interesting, the villain's son is so upright it's almost evil, while the glorious protagonist's daughter has a bit of old man Song's style." In the bar, my best friend Lu Ke teased with a smile. I irritably downed a shot of strong liquor. "Yaoyao, haven't you always been about physical pleasure over emotional attachment?" Lu Ke paused deliberately, flashing a wicked grin: "Now that you have him, if I were you, I'd enjoy myself first. I don't believe he'd really dare to bite off his tongue and kill himself." I pondered this, hesitating. Lu Ke continued to fan the flames: "To tame a high-altitude flower like him, being soft-hearted is a big taboo. You have to know, the essence of forced love is—do it until you love it!" This woman has been divorced eight times and has a rich romantic history. She must be right. By the time Lu Ke finished sharing her experience, it was late at night. I returned to the rental apartment. The bedroom and living room were pitch black; Song Qingli was nowhere to be seen. Only the storage room in the corner had a light on. I pushed the door open and locked eyes with the boy whose pants were halfway down. Next to him was his discarded shirt and a makeshift bed made of cardboard and some junk. Song Qingli froze for two seconds, his hands trembling so much he couldn't pull the zipper up. I stared at the exposed chest and commented: "Pink. I like it." The boy couldn't cover both top and bottom. His hands flew up to cover his chest in a panic, and the pants he had just pulled up fell down again. Song Qingli's face alternated between red and white, his lower lip almost bitten through: "Chen... Yaoyao, I thought you weren't coming back." Song Qingli probably wanted to call me by my full name at first but changed it at the last second. Seems Lu Ke was right, the training is working. I raised an eyebrow and approached step by step until Song Qingli had nowhere to retreat and fell onto the tattered little bed. "I rented this place. I come back when I want." Song Qingli was practically exposed to me, yet he still struggled to cover himself with the sheet, his tone almost pleading: "Yaoyao, can you please go out first?" "I made sweet and sour pork ribs. They're in the fridge, just heat them up." The alcohol was getting to my head, and I blinked slowly. I didn't expect a pampered young master like Song Qingli to know how to cook my favorite dish, let alone save some for me. I yanked the sheet off Song Qingli: "I don't want to eat right now, and I don't want to go out." Forced to be exposed to the air again, the boy's eyes reddened with shame, and his voice rose involuntarily with agitation: "What do you want to do?" "You." My gaze drifted downward involuntarily, and I couldn't help but sigh. Song Qingli, truly extraordinary. Getting drunker, I couldn't stand steady in my heels and swayed, falling onto Song Qingli. I simply sat on him in that position and immediately felt the boy's reaction. "So your mouth isn't the hardest part of you after all..." 4 Song Qingli couldn't stand dirty talk. The veins on his tense arms bulged, as if he had reached his limit: "Chen Xueyao, get off." I deliberately moved my waist back and forth: "Beg me." Song Qingli groaned, fell silent for a while, and finally lowered his proud head: "I beg you..." I hooked my arm around his neck, nuzzling his neck and acting coquettish: "Fine, I'll let you off today. Carry me to the bedroom." Song Qingli hesitated for a few seconds, then picked me up princess-style and placed me on the soft bed. However, when he tried to get up and leave, I clamped my legs around his waist, hooked him hard, and pinned him under me. Song Qingli's eyes widened instantly, his expression one of deceived humiliation. His whole body screamed resistance, but I forcefully blocked his lips. In between breaths, I panted softly in his ear: "Song Qingli, give it to me." The ceiling light swayed more and more violently. Tears slid from the corner of his eyes, mixing with sweat, inseparable: "Chen Xueyao, you will regret this, you will definitely regret this." Heh, threatening me? I bit hard on Song Qingli's collarbone, teasing him: "If you're so unwilling, then get out." The boy had probably never heard such crude words in his life. He was so ashamed his tongue tied in knots, unable to say a word, so he simply covered my mouth with his hand. Half-asleep, I vaguely heard someone whispering "I'm sorry," "I made you dirty," and other things over and over again. The voice sounded like Song Qingli's, but it definitely wasn't him. Forced by someone he hates, he must hate me to death. ... After that night, I gradually understood the joy of training that Lu Ke talked about. Whips, toys, handcuffs, white coats, candles... new tricks every day. Song Qingli was ashamed and angry at first, even shedding tears. After his dignity was shattered time and again, the boy seemed to reluctantly accept the humiliating reality, washing the soiled sheets with a cold face. After I washed up, I casually threw my changed underwear onto Song Qingli's bare shoulder and ordered: "Wash this too." The boy carefully pinched the lace edge, lost in thought. I expertly picked up the whip and cracked it on his back, making a crisp sound: "Daydreaming? Not listening to your master anymore?" Song Qingli made no move to dodge, taking the hit squarely. A strange light flashed in his eyes again, and he lowered his head to say okay. Lu Ke taught me that training can't just be pressure; you have to give a sweet date after a slap. I patted the boy's fluffy head and softened my tone: "Did you forget something?" I wanted to remind him to use special detergent, but before I could speak, the boy leaned down, gently cupped the back of my head, kissed my cheek, then the corner of my lips, moving down bit by bit, planting lingering, dense kisses. "Is this... enough?" Song Qingli half-knelt on the ground, looked up, his voice dry, traces of suspicious liquid still at the corner of his mouth. I was caught off guard and flirted back, my heart pounding wildly. After tying him to the bedhead, I used the excuse of being late for work to rush out the door.
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