Late at night.
I lay across an impossibly comfortable, sprawling bed, my body sinking into the embrace of premium velvet. Waves of tingling pleasure rippled from my groin; Wang Miya was kneeling at the foot of the bed, working my shaft as diligently as a professional porn star. Her purplish-black hexagram pupils gleamed with an eerie, unnatural light in the shadows, the wet, erratic sounds of her suction serving as the wanton background music to this midnight chamber.
By the computer desk nearby, Secretary Yan sat up straight, her fingertips flying across the keyboard. Meanwhile, my other hand remained buried deep within the pristine body of Sergeant Shen Zhiqin, savoring the rhythmic contractions of her tight internal walls. The drenched resistance made it impossible for me to pull away—I treated her entirely as the ultimate living sleeve, refusing to let go lest this exquisite sensation slip away.
"We are beginning the pre-war briefing now. Everyone, assemble," I commanded, my voice raspy.
The moment the words left my lips, this entourage of deviants, who had been thoroughly immersed in lust just seconds ago, instantly flipped a switch. They dropped the work at their hands—and mouths—and entered a completely clinical, absolute "meeting mode."
Only one sound remained in the room—the rapid, sharp clack-clack-clack of Yan Peiyu, our designated secretary, typing furiously on her laptop, the screen glow illuminating her composed face:
[Dragon Moon, Day 3 — Boss's Routine Briefing]
Attendees: Boss, Yan Peiyu, Wang Miya, Shen Zhiqin, Wang Qing, Sister Ping.
Location: Guest Room, Talent Manager Xu Zhiping’s Mansion.
Agenda:
Production Plan for the Reality Dating Show "Seven Days and Seven Nights," curated by famed producer Wang Yicai, commencing in three days:
Wang Miya: "I heard the crew invited a bunch of second-generation celebrities and wealthy heiresses with god-tier looks. Just the thought of personally shattering those beautiful souls makes me... ah~ ahh~" (Note: Speaker entered a state of climax at this point, causing a massive squirting incident on site. The meeting proceeded without interruption.)
Xu Zhiping: "According to the insider intel under my grasp, the visual caliber of the participants is indeed top-tier for the industry. This format of high-stakes reality dating shows possesses immense traction abroad. Wang Yicai clearly intends to use this project to blast his name into stardom, forging it into the definitive blockbuster of the year."
Yan Peiyu: "It is reported that technical advisors from abroad will be on-site. Wang Qing will handle real-time interpretation to ensure Boss can precisely grasp every detail and variable."
The Soul Cutter (Boss): "What about the transportation logistics, Sister Ping?"
Xu Zhiping: "Answering Master: arrangements are finalized. We are scheduled to lift off from the TV station’s rooftop helipad precisely at 5:00 AM on Day 6 of the Dragon Moon. Estimated time of arrival at the isolated island is 9:00 AM the same morning."
Extraordinary Motion:
Wang Miya: "Can I act as the Technical Director for Seven Days and Seven Nights?"
The Soul Cutter (Boss): "Motion denied. Meeting adjourned."
Over the next three days, this luxury mansion degenerated completely into the most frenzied, lawless sanctuary in the capital.
Wang Xin’s once bright, youthful face now constantly bore the vacant, broken aesthetic of a girl thoroughly played out. Even though her jaw ached from prolonged periods of deep throat service, her dimples continued to bob up and down along my groin like a loyal sacrifice. As for Wang Qing, our SSR-grade diplomatic translator, she had long been conditioned into a depraved state where the mere sight of my shaft triggered an instant climax. Her once noble gown was torn to tatters, serving only to emphasize her ruined posture as she pried her own slit wide, begging to be conquered by my rod.
However, an even more absurd spectacle was staging itself in the living room.
"Uncle..."
Wang Miya parted her crimson lips, her entire being radiating a dense, suffocating purplish-black aura. A sickening yet aphrodisiacal musk drifted through the air—the literal stench of a rotting soul, the definitive boundary of her domain as a dark hypnotist.
"From this day forth, the living room is the sole venue for your casting-couch exploitation."
Her purplish-black hexagram pupils constricted slightly, casting a massive, dark debuff over everyone present.
Producer Wang Haoran, who usually held invincible sway over the industry, now looked as though he had been injected with raw animality. Right in the center of the living room, he was brutally plowing a stunning, hot second-rate model desperate to claw her way up the showbiz ladder. The model endured the producer’s violent thrusts through her tears, yet under Miya’s influence, she flashed a thoroughly professional, flattering smile toward the various industry tycoons scattered across the room.
"Casting couch exploitation in the living room... everyone will think it's entirely natural," Wang Miya giggled.
The elite guests in the room either swirled their wine glasses in elegant conversation or flipped through scripts. Even though the heavy, clapping sounds of flesh and the splashing of wet juices from the producer and the model erupted right at their feet, they acted entirely blind to it, as if the writhing bodies were nothing more than a decorative houseplant.
Even his wedded wife, Xu Zhiping, merely strolled past carrying a platter of freshly cut fruit, elegantly stepping over her husband as he coupled with the model on the floor.
"Honey, it's good to be dedicated to your career, but don't overexert yourself. Take care of your health," Xu Zhiping reminded her blockbuster-producer husband with a warm smile. Her eyes remained perfectly clear, as if her husband weren't currently violating a newcomer on the living room floor, but was instead merely burning the midnight oil in his study to revise a script.
Aided by the overwhelming stench of musk and the persistent white stains locked into the sofa fabric, the entire mansion had converted fully into an exploitation training center. On a lounge chair nearby, another "audition" was underway in full swing.
The classy actress Wang Menglan, renowned on screen for her frigid, untouchable aura, was now straddling the famed director Lin Chenghao with zero regard for her image. The director's decrepit, flaccid rod was clearly failing to satisfy her, yet she seemed locked in a trance, frantically riding up and down as if his withered length were her sole ladder to international stardom.
Letting out a cold chuckle, I closed the distance in a few sharp strides. Reaching down, I brutally yanked Wang Menglan off Director Lin as if pulling a withered weed, before slamming her drenched, fluid-soaked ass down onto my iron-hard, heavy-duty shaft.
"Wang Miya!" I barked.
"I am here, Master," Wang Miya materialized from the wanton shadows, her purplish-black hexagram pupils radiating a spine-chilling gleam in the half-light.
"I want to see what a classy goddess looks like when she desperately wants to climax, but physically cannot."
"Haha~ Master, you are truly wicked! That sounds like so much fun!" Wang Miya covered her mouth with a sharp giggle, flicking her finger lightly toward the center of Wang Menglan’s brow. A bolt of deep purple soul power instantly sank between the actress's eyes.
"Dark Directive: Eternal Threshold."
Following Wang Miya’s command of climax-blocking suggestion, the elegant actress's gaze immediately went vacant and unfocused. Her once proud face distorted into a twisted grimace as a torrential flood of pleasure surged within her body, completely unable to find an exit.
"Ah... ungh... I want... no, it can't..."
Wang Menglan panted heavily, exhaling a sweet, hormone-laced breath as her body writhed unnaturally against mine. Every rub only stoked the fire burning inside her, yet the lock at the depths of her soul held fast against the final explosion. Her face contorted, fine beads of sweat erupting across her forehead as her hands clawed neurotically at my chest. No matter how frantically she swiveled her hips, the sheer despair of teetering on the edge of the peak only to be violently dragged back made her look utterly pathetic.
Finally, the barrier holding her at the breaking point shattered under my ultimate decree.
"Miya, open it up for her!"
"By your command—force the floodgates wide open!" Wang Miya’s voice rang out like a sentence from hell, purplish-black light detonating at her fingertips.
“Ah——! Ah!!”
Wang Menglan let out an earth-shattering shriek as the accumulated pleasure breached the dam like a tsunami. Her entire frame convulsed violently, the internal geyser of her climax erupting like a burst pipe. A torrential wave of pungent, transparent squirt blasted directly onto the wrinkled, astounded face of Director Lin Chenghao.
Drenched head to toe by the hot spray, the old director merely wiped his face with a dazed swipe of his tongue, letting out a stupid, vacant chuckle. Meanwhile, the superstar who reigned supreme on silver screens collapsed onto the lounge chair like a hollowed-out husk, her chest heaving violently as she panted with her tongue out, her eyes reduced to a blank, soulless void.
The entire scene was as surreal as a nightmare, yet Xu Zhiping maintained her absolute poise and professionalism. She elegantly placed the platter of sliced apples onto the coffee table, her fingertips deftly avoiding the white stains on the sofa, and smiled warmly. "Director Lin, the fruit is perfectly sweet. Please enjoy."
It was as if, in her eyes, all the destruction and depravity unfolding in this living room were nothing more than standard social etiquette.
"It's getting late. Time for bed. We have a 5:00 AM helicopter to catch tomorrow for the island."
Letting out a cold chuckle, my hands remained active, roughly kneading and deforming Wang Menglan’s still-trembling breasts into various twisted shapes, while I declared tomorrow's hunting operation to the circle of conquered women around me.
Day 6 of the Dragon Moon, 5:00 AM.
Thud-thud-thud-thud—!
The roaring thunder of the helicopter's rotor blades sliced through the final silence of the capital's dawn. The freezing high-altitude wind whipped into the cabin, yet it failed to disperse the thick, un-washable musk of depravity clinging to our group.
Gazing down at the capital shrinking into a miniature model below, the restless soul power inside me began to thrum with anticipation.
"We'll be spending the next seven days and seven nights on that island," I muttered, closing my eyes to savor the body heat of the beauties surrounding me.
"Master, there is a luxurious private estate on the island, specifically prepared by Producer Wang for these 'high-end productions.' There, we can establish a completely sealed operational base, entirely free from external interference," Xu Zhiping added dutifully by my side, her eyes gleaming with anticipation for the production of this reality dating show.
“Mmh… Nnh… Slurp…”
Tens of thousands of feet in the air, Wang Qing, our SSR-grade diplomatic translator, remained kneeling at my feet. Clad in her elegant gown, she single-mindedly and wantonly devoured my shaft.
The helicopter touched down on the northern helipad of the island. The fierce downdraft from the rotors whipped Wang Qing and Wang Miya’s hair into a frenzy, yet the madness dancing in the eyes of these women didn't diminish in the slightest.
"Let's go inspect our base," I led the group of beauties toward the grand, solitary estate looming ahead.
Pushing open the heavy mahogany doors of the first floor, the towering reception hall loomed with majestic scale, the crystal chandeliers fracturing the dim light into cold shards. The place was deathly silent, the air carrying the faint, sterile scent of disinfectant.
"Master, at the far end of the first-floor hallway is the medical bay," Xu Zhiping led the way, her tone as clinical as ever. "It is equipped with top-tier medical apparatus. Should any participant collapse during the wilderness survival phase, they can be brought here for immediate, on-site treatment."
I stepped into the medical bay, scanning the cold beds and monitoring equipment, a playful smirk touching my lips. To me, this place wasn't just for saving lives—it was the perfect secret laboratory.
Next, we ascended to the second floor.
This was the undisputed "brain" of the entire island—the camera crew's production studio. The moment the door opened, a massive wall of LCD monitors loomed ahead, splitting into dozens of screens that captured real-time feeds from hidden cameras scattered across the island. Currently, the screens showed only desolate beaches and dense jungles, but soon, they would be filled with desperation and ugly truths.
"All editing, progression discussions, and behind-the-scenes manipulations will be orchestrated right here," Xu Zhiping explained, gesturing toward the consoles blinking with blue lights.
Finally, we set foot on the third floor.
The decor here was a complete departure from the levels below. The thick carpeting swallowed our footsteps entirely, and the air was perfumed with an expensive, woody fragrance—the definitive specification of a five-star luxury hotel penthouse.
"The third floor is the lone sanctuary," Xu Zhiping pushed open the doors to the most opulent suite, where a massive waterbed sat directly facing a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the endless ocean view. "The couple with the highest matchmaking index on any given day will earn the right to stay here. Furthermore, this floor is the only monitoring blind spot on the entire island—zero hidden cameras. As for the failures, they will have to endure the insects, wind, and rain in the wilderness, tearing each other apart for a mere handful of rations."
I walked over to the window, watching the blazing sun slowly crest the distant horizon.
The turning point between success and total ruin lies entirely on this floor... I chuckled coldly in my mind.
Those proud heiresses and second-generation celebrities... after being broken by the brutal wilderness for a few days, what lengths would they go to, what prices would they be willing to pay, just to step onto this third floor, wash off the dirt in a hot bath, and sink into a soft bed?
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