Lin Huanhuan had barely finished teasing Huang Shao with her wanton depravity when she spun around and entangled herself with the talented Fang Mingtian. Fang Mingtian possessed an insatiable, hypersexual constitution to begin with; how could he possibly withstand Lin Huanhuan’s bottomless, boundary-free instigations? After a few rounds of grinding against each other, his entire body burned like white-hot iron. His accumulated lust had no exit, a thick wave of white cream pressing desperately against the lip of his tip, swirling frantically within the rim of his crown like a beast that had lost its way.
Seeing this, Lin Huanhuan boldly grabbed Fang Mingtian’s hand and pressed it directly against her crotch, pouting as she begged him to help her "scratch an itch." His sanity completely shattered, Fang Mingtian no longer gave a damn about the camera operators or the ratings. Hooking his fingers, his index and middle fingers curved into a brutal U-shape, driving single-mindedly into the dense forbidden zone of her dark forest.
"Brother Fang, you’re so dominant!" Lin Huanhuan blurted out a starstruck declaration. That borderline feral admiration caused Fang Mingtian to lose control completely. The pre-cum leaking from the tip of his cock erupted like a geyser, thoroughly drenching a massive patch around Lin Huanhuan’s navel.
On the other side, Quan Zhixin—carrying his fully weaponized, heavily twitching monster rod—roughly yanked aside the borders of the pristine prodigy He Xiangru’s swimsuit. The moment that ivory-white cleft, still bearing a trace of innocent youth, was exposed to the open air, the camera operators’ lenses nearly went out of focus. Yet Quan Zhixin moved with lightning speed, instantly pinning her down with his massive rod. The visual was like a human sandwich—a thick, engorged hotdog tightly clamped between two pieces of fresh, tender white bread.
Panting heavily, Quan Zhixin frantically adjusted the angle of his hips, attempting to guide his massive length along the slick, wet trails to slide naturally into her entrance. Unfortunately, the maiden's folds remained shyly and stubbornly locked against that final line of defense, leaving him sweating profusely with anxiety, unable to find a breakthrough.
Watching this surreal negotiation of power and lust unfold on screen, I glanced down at Wang Miya beside me, whose eyes were already glazed over as she exhaled ragged gasps. In perfect unison, we both muttered:
"The pure, innocent types like He Xiangru really sell the best. These wealthy playboys who are thoroughly sick of manipulative green-tea starlets... deep down, this is the exact flavor they crave most."
Staring at the wave of flesh and wanton fluid overflowing before her, Host Asa broke out into a cold sweat. She turned to Producer-Director Wang Yicai and suggested, "Producer Wang, shouldn't we call for a break to let them cool down? This footage... the editing team is going to drop dead the moment they look at it. It's completely un-broadcastable!"
Just as Wang Yicai wavered, Wang Miya’s purplish-black pupils flashed ominously, pouring a demonic, hypnotic suggestion straight into the director's subconscious: "No breaks. For the final 10 minutes, all restrictions are lifted. Let them embrace however they please."
The moment the directive was issued, the filming site degenerated completely into a primitive mating ritual.
As the final round of the scramble ended, the talented Fang Mingtian finally secured his embrace with the pristine maiden He Xiangru. Unable to restrain himself for another second, he violently spun her around, forcing her voluptuous ass to press tightly against the protruding half of his turgid rod. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, his right hand crudely kneaded and squeezed her round globes, his fingers twisting her small, tender nipples like dials on a console. Meanwhile, his left hand violently wrenched her swimsuit aside, leaving her plump, virgin slit thoroughly exposed to the open air.
Leveraging the sway of his hips, Fang Mingtian attempted to use the pendulum principle to "accidentally" hammer his thick ramrod into her overflowing wellspring. Unfortunately, no matter how violently he rocked, trying to force entry without the assistance of his hands proved exceptionally difficult. By now, He Xiangru’s face was flushed crimson, her eyes completely vacant and her mind a total blank. How could she possibly remember they were shooting a show? She could only feel the awakened, forced craving screaming frantically within her core.
As for Lin Huanhuan, she had long dragged her crush, Quan Zhixin, into the nearby bushes. The foliage shook violently. Even though Quan Zhixin had already discharged two consecutive rounds, his monster rod remained terrifyingly rigid, while Lin Huanhuan’s narrow slit had already been filled to the absolute brim with thick white cream, trailing messily down her inner thighs.
"Master, I’ve officially deactivated the post-nut clarity for all the men on site," Wang Miya whispered against my shoulder, her sweet breath delivering a devil's declaration. "Now, even if they keep firing until they drop dead, their rods will absolutely never go soft."
Huang Shao no longer cared about the pretense of an "embrace" either. He straight-up pressed three fingers together, jamming them past the seams of her swimsuit to explore Yan Shi's slick, deep tunnel, pumping frantically like a pile driver as if desperate to excavate every drop of juice inside her. Huang Shao was drenched in sweat, his movements utterly primal and rough.
Yet Yan Shi was even more unhinged; she completely ignored Huang Shao, using her cherry-lipped mouth—which had played out countless green-tea roles—to suggestively tease the poor camera operator right through the lens.
The camera on their unit began to shake violently. Under Yan Shi’s soul-stealing gaze and explicit provocations, the camera operator lost his sanity completely. To Yan Shi, this wasn't a reality show; this was a luxury harem itinerary tailored exclusively for her desires.
The thirty minutes flew past like a roaring rocket. The chaotic mating ritual came to an abrupt close, and the actors dragged their utterly exhausted bodies—smeared with sand, sweat, and bodily fluids—stumbling back to assemble before Host Asa.
Though their bodies were drained, because Wang Miya had disabled their refractory period, the erections between the men's thighs hadn't receded. Instead, due to the sustained pooling of blood, their shafts appeared even more monstrous and vein-mapped.
"Now, open the cards in your hands! The surprise matchmaking moment is here!" Host Asa announced with professional enthusiasm.
As the cast revealed their cards, an incredibly surreal silence descended upon the beach. On the men's side, whether it was Huang Shao who had been pumping frantically or Fang Mingtian who had attempted the pendulum sprint, every single card bore the name "He Xiangru."
On the women's side, whether it was the veteran green-tea starlet Yan Shi or the infatuated Lin Huanhuan, every single target locked onto "Quan Zhixin."
It was the literal manifestation of collective, base desire—the men craved the purest, untouched virgin slit, while the women craved the heaviest, most dominant monster hotdog.
"Whoa! Oh my god! He Xiangru and Quan Zhixin gain 1 point each!"
Following Host Asa’s announcement, Quan Zhixin’s massive rod—which had already fired twice yet remained as rigid as iron—went completely wild inside his low-slung briefs, throbbing violently up and down in sync with his pounding heart. The thick, prominent contour threatened to rip through the paper-thin fabric, the viscous fluid leaking from the tip drenching his waistband once more.
Sensing the aggressive, predatory male gazes projecting from all sides—each one looking as though they wanted to devour her alive—He Xiangru’s delicate frame shrank back instinctively. Yet her flushed face and glazed, vacant eyes betrayed the absolute capitulation of her inner soul to this depraved game.
"Announcing the current scores: Huang Shao: 1, Yan Shi: 1, Quan Zhixin: 1, He Xiangru: 1. Fang Mingtian and Lin Huanhuan are currently at zero!"
Following Host Asa’s announcement of free-roaming activities, this nominal "wilderness survival" converted instantly into a primal hunt of raw flesh. Asa’s casual addition of "the couple with the highest points earns the right to stay in the luxury hotel" became the definitive straw that shattered the celebrities' remaining professional restraint.
Fang Mingtian was like a wild boar in heat. Dispensing with even the basic pretense of acting, he lunged straight onto He Xiangru. Roughly squeezing and deforming her tender breasts, he muttered incoherently, "The editing crew will fix it anyway..." His half-exposed tip frantically searched for the entrance, yet his frantic anxiety kept him from finding the mark.
Consumed by a raging desperation, Fang Mingtian straight-up hoisted He Xiangru’s left leg onto his shoulder. Beneath the nearly transparent fabric, the complete structure of her pristine, isolated-island slit was laid bare. Closing his eyes, Fang Mingtian delivered a savage plunge, discharging his long-accumulated frustration into her depths.
After venting twice, Fang Mingtian was physically spent, yet because his post-nut clarity remained disabled, his rod stood as rigid as a steel pipe. Watching Huang Shao and Quan Zhixin queuing up behind him, he hesitated to retreat, only to be roughly shoved aside by Huang Shao. Carrying an immense reservoir of semen, Huang Shao showed zero restraint, dividing his hot cream into three separate, massive loads, pumping them deep into He Xiangru’s already over-processed slit before finally pulling away with satisfaction. By now, He Xiangru lay collapsed on the sand in a complete daze, her face bearing the broken, shattered bliss of total mind-break.
On the other end, Quan Zhixin showcased the monstrous stamina of a high school alpha. Dragging Yan Shi into the shade, he tore her swimsuit to shreds, going so far as to forcefully break into and develop her "isolated-island anus." Piercing shrieks sliced through the sky. This wasn't a romance show; this was a lawless island paradise.
"Lin Huanhuan," I called out softly, pulling her into my Accomplice of the Devil domain. Savoring the tight, frantic contractions of her hole while simultaneously fondling Secretary Yan’s proud breasts, I delivered a cold command: "Lin Huanhuan, ride it yourself!"
"Yes, Master..."
Lin Huanhuan gyrated and slammed her hips frantically, a bizarre purplish-black vapor seeping from her navel. With a piercing, high-pitched shriek, a translucent, rainbow-tinted geyser erupted from her dark forest, glinting with a pathological sheen under the blazing sun.
"The Soul Cutter, Lin Huanhuan has awakened!" Secretary Yan’s eyes flared with brilliant blue light. "Her soul value has breached a thousand... 1,039! SSR-grade! Awakening Skill: 【The Scythe of Infatuation】!"
My heart stilled slightly; the aura rippling from her felt exceptionally dominant and perilous. Secretary Yan clinically explained: "It is a passive ability. Anyone who engages in physical intercourse with her will have their soul value drained. The magnitude of the drain corresponds directly to the depth of her 'infatuation' toward the target."
Staring down at the face beneath me, which was rapidly growing exotic and distorted with pleasure, I chuckled inwardly with dark relief.
Thank goodness I possess the 'Accomplice of the Devil' ability, allowing me to forcefully negate her awareness and affection. Otherwise, if I were targeted by this 'Scythe,' this madwoman would probably suck my soul entirely dry within a single night.
The wanton sounds of heavy friction and desperate moans blanketed the isolated island from high noon until five in the evening. Aside from the briny tang of the ocean, the air was saturated with the thick, un-dispersible musk of semen. Because the cast was entirely occupied with venting the lust ignited by their disabled post-nut clarity, basic survival duties like gathering food or pitching tents were completely abandoned.
The setting sun painted the beach in a morbid, sickly shade of orange-red. The three men and three women dragged their unsteady, fluid-smeared legs back to the assembly point, their walking postures warped and awkward due to their persistently rigid rods. Covered in sand, sweat, and dried white crusts, they looked so utterly wrecked that not a shred of their celebrity status remained.
"Now, we begin our final game of the day!" Host Asa called out, maintaining her professional hype. "The Name-Tag Scramble!"
Everyone glanced to the left. A custom-built, miniature swimming pool sat waiting. Each participant was handed an adhesive name-tag that could be freely attached to any part of their body.
"Everyone will dive into the pool together to steal each other's name-tags! The man and woman who secure the highest number of tags will each gain 1 point!"
The moment the command dropped, the group plunged into the water like a school of frenzied fish, carrying the massive reservoir of un-vented lust inside them. In an instant, the pool water churned violently, the once-clear liquid instantly turning murky as it mingled with sweat, residual fluids, and the slick sheen of sunscreen.
"If Wang Miya doesn't lift her hypnosis, these people will probably maintain this ravenous lust until they drop dead from pure overexertion," I thought with a playful, mocking edge.
Yet my hands didn't remain idle either; my fingers rhythmically twisted and tugged at Secretary Yan’s small, perky nipples beneath her gown, occasionally pulling at them in a malicious prank, watching her let out soft, fractured gasps within the safety of my Accomplice of the Devil barrier.
No gimmicks. Pure smut. Hardcore storyline. On Ream, there are no limits, no censorship—only pure, unadulterated pleasure and endless dark fantasies.
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