Shen Qing looked at Yang Haoranโs eager appearance and curled her lips into a graceful smile. Approaching him, she performed a slow, elegant bow, much like a young noblewoman from the Ming Dynasty paying respects to her master. Her soft, enchanting voice rang out delicately.
“Master, your humble servant pays her respects.”
Her voice carried a hint of allure within its sweetness, a touch of seduction within its softness. At first listen, it was like the chirping of an oriole leaving the valley, the cry of a kite in the windโclear and resonant, yet melodious and gentle.
It was utterly captivating; merely hearing it was an extreme pleasure.
Witnessing such an irresistibly tempting scene, Yang Haoranโs heart pounded wildly. He swallowed hard with difficulty, forcefully suppressing his primal urge to pounce on her. Struggling to maintain his composure, he waved his hand casually and said lightly, “Rise.”
Yang Haoranโs pretentious demeanor amused Shen Qing inwardly, but she held back her laughter and obediently rose to her feet.
“Master, please put a collar on this humble servant. I am naturally wanton and unrestrained, so I also need a saddle-like restraint to be fastened under your control, so that I may be properly trained.”
No sooner had one wave settled than another arose. Yang Haoran watched as Aunt Shen finished her seductive words and, instead of bowing, knelt down before him once more.
Her knees, encased in black silk, met the cool tile floor with a faint sound.
Aunt Shenโs words, both elegant and utterly debauched, deeply stirred Yang Haoranโs mind. His mouth went dry, and seeing her kneeling before him elevated his emotions to a new height. It felt as if all the blood in his body was boiling.
Yet, judging by Aunt Shenโs demeanor, this was clearly just foreplay. He didnโt want to rush the beauty and appear impatient or lacking in charm, so he had no choice but to suppress his impulses.
“Aunt Shen… ahem.” Yang Haoran began using his usual form of address but suddenly felt it didnโt suit the moment. He quickly covered it up with a fake cough, then put on an act and said, “Bitch Shen, where did this master put the dog collar and leash for you?”
He had never given Aunt Shen any collar or leash, but since she mentioned it, she must have made arrangements.
“Master, your lowly concubine placed it in the bedside cabinet,” Shen Qing replied meekly, lowering her eyes demurely.
Hearing this, Yang Haorman rose and went to search the bedside cabinet. In the bottom drawer, he indeed found a black collar.
The collar was exquisitely crafted, with a soft texture, and looked extremely beautiful.
In the center of the collar was a heart-shaped hole, framed with gold metal trim. The leather was stamped with elegant dark red patterns, like beautiful flower buds adorning the surface. Additionally, three capital lettersโShqโwere engraved, undoubtedly corresponding to the initials of her name.
Attached to the collar was a small silver chain over a meter long, with a leather handle at the end. It resembled the collar of a wealthy familyโs pet dogโno, it should be said it was clearly a custom-made dog collar.
Some affluent families even have specially customized collars and leashes for their pet dogs.
Beneath it, considerately placed, was a black leather whip. He took that as well.
Yang Haoran returned to the bed and sat down, gazing at Aunt Shen kneeling before him. A idea occurred to him: as the master, how could he personally handle trivial matters like fetching the collar? Shouldnโt the dog be the one to bring it over?
Once his mind was set, Yang Haoran pretended to bring the black collar toward Aunt Shenโs fair neck. Just as Shen Qing thought he would fasten it directly onto her, the black collar flew past her eyes and landed on the tiles three meters away.
Ahemโฆ Yang Haoran fake-coughed again, putting on a stern expression. “Bitch Shen, as a lowly, inferior bitch, how dare you order your master around? Go, fetch the collar with your mouth and present it to your master.”
Hearing this, Shen Qing was momentarily stunned, then quickly understood. She gave him a charming, flirtatious glance but replied in a submissive tone, “This servant has overstepped. Please do not be angry, Master. I beg you to take more effort in training me, teaching this lowly concubine to learn the household rules and punishments as soon as possible.”
With that, she deliberately pretended to rise, wanting Little Haoran to give her a live demonstration. Sure enough, Little Haoran took the bait and immediately barked, “Crawl, you slutty bitch! Donโt you even know how to be a proper bitch? Crawl over there, pick it up with your mouth, and bring it here. Understood?”
As he spoke, he picked up the black leather whip lying beside him and lashed it toward the tiles next to her. The whip cracked sharply through the air, its sound imposing and intimidating.
Yang Haoran felt secretly thrilled. He had figured it out: at times like these, Aunt Shen didnโt like his softer side. What she wanted was a domineering, powerful master who could take control of her.
The more forceful he was, the more obedient she would become, like a little kitten.
Sure enough, Shen Qing trembled at the loud crack of the whip, appearing utterly frightened. Yet, the light in her enchanting, seductive eyes grew brighter and brighter.
“Yes, Master,” Shen Qing replied, her charming voice now carrying a huskier tone, making it even more alluring.
Shen Qing slowly shifted from her kneeling position. Gradually, she lowered her upper body, her plump, ample rear rising slowly behind her. Like a bitch on all fours, she crawled toward the black collar several meters away.
Shen Qing imitated the crawl of a female dog, her delicate body trembling slightly, her hair cascading over her fragrant shoulders. This lewd position, on all fours like a bitch, surrounded her human dignity with overwhelming shame. An intense, peculiar sensation spread throughout her body, causing her to tremble uncontrollably. Her stunningly beautiful face was already flushed bright red.
Her semi-transparent lingerieๆ่ขๆฆ่งๅฐๅพๅๅบๅฅนๅทจๅคง้ฅฑๆปก็่ๆก่๏ผๅฎๅฆไธไธช้ฒๅซฉๅคๆฑ็ๆกๅญ๏ผๅฝข็ถไธฐ็๏ผ่ฏฑไบบๆ ๆฏใ
As she continued crawling forward, her voluptuous rear swayed rhythmically, creating waves of motion that were incredibly enticing.
Yang Haoran watched, his mouth dry with desire. Aunt Shenโs raised, large, round, and fleshy rear, resembling a millstone, looked utterly tantalizing.
Unable to resist, Yang Haoran took the whip and struck Aunt Shenโs plump buttocks with a firm but not too heavy force, shouting, “Crawl faster, you slutty bitch!”
Crack!
The whip landed on Shen Qingโs raised, fleshy rear, sending ripples through the ample curves. The moment the whip struck, it instantly bounced aside, a testament to the soft yet resilient elasticity of her flesh.
What anๆๅ็ฎๆถๅญ (perfect mounting platform).
“Mmm~”
Shen Qing let out a lewd moan, soft and seductive, like decadent music echoing through the room.
She paused for a moment, then continued crawling, the swaying of her voluptuous hips growing even more pronounced, like a beautiful woman flaunting her charms, waving a handkerchet at Yang Haoran.
How could Yang Haoran resist this? Aunt Shen was clearly blatantly enticing him to whip her, to make her act lewd and wanton.
Yang Haoran swung the black leather whip, this time using seventy to eighty percent of his strength. The whip whistled through the air with a slight tearing sound, ruthlessly striking Aunt Shenโs fleshy buttocks.
Crack! Crack!
The sharp, clear sound of the whip rang out, rising naturally in the room.