"Secretary Yan, report Zhong Peixuan’s core sensitivity point," I commanded, my voice dropping to a chilly, low whisper.
"Reporting to Master: her nipples," Yan Peiyu replied without a second thought. Her voice sounded exceptionally distinct in the quiet corner of the classroom, yet under the blanket of my authority, it became a forbidden spell that only the two of us could hear.
Like a tycoon discovering a priceless raw asset, I lifted her school uniform without a shred of pity. Because her breast value was an absolute 0%, there was nothing underneath the uniform. Those two tiny pink buds, as minuscule as mung beans, stood completely isolated on her flat chest—looking like a pair of tiny wild grapes on the Mesopotamian plains.
I pinched and teased that barren flesh. Because they were so small, my fingertips could barely grasp any physical mass. Losing patience, I swirled my tongue roughly over those two tiny buds, launching a direct, high-purity bombardment on that 57% sensitivity rating.
Zhong Peixuan’s face flushed crimson at a speed visible to the naked eye, her mechanical pencil scribbling chaotic, jagged lines across her exam paper. In her limited cognition, she probably thought this was just a sudden fever; she had no idea that a deviant soul had taken complete residence inside her cute little shell.
My dark, demonic net was currently tracing along her nerve endings, devouring her reason and sense of shame inch by inch.
My hands slid straight down, breaching the final line of defense. Because her sensitivity zones had been completely thrown into chaos by my onslaught, her lower body was already dripping wet, soaking through her pure white panties. Without further ado, I ripped away those drenched panties, aligned my hot, throbbing shaft with that impossibly narrow crevice, and drove myself straight to the hilt in one brutal, relentless thrust.
"Mgh...!" Zhong Peixuan’s body clamped down violently, that "illegal-tier" tight flesh gripping my shaft like a vice.
I began to plunge rhythmically and furiously, every heavy impact producing a wet, sticky sound. Fueled by extreme exhilaration, my eyes bloodshot with a predatory crimson, I watched as her 57% sensitivity collapsed into total ruin under my furious pacing.
"Secretary Yan, over here," I barked in a low tone, my voice carrying an absolute, unquestionable dominance.
"Yes, Master," Yan Peiyu complied like a dutiful corporate assistant, kneeling down beside me with a heavily flushed face.
While I violently developed this sensitive little darling, I extended my other hand, my fingers driving wildly inside Assistant Monitor Yan's flesh. Activating my authority, I forcibly linked their pleasure receptors together like connecting two devices via a USB bridge, allowing the tidal wave of ecstasy to violently echo and multiply within their bodies. Spotting the perfect window, I lifted the sensory floodgates entirely, letting the overflowing pleasure completely submerge them. Two overlapping, wanton screams of ecstasy instantly pierced the silence. In that uninhibited outcry, they sank completely into their shared euphoria, as if declaring their absolute fall for the entire academy to hear.
Clang— Clang— Clang— Clang—
The morning study session of Zhiguo Girls' High School finally ground to a halt, and the hallways immediately echoed with the scattering sound of footsteps. Having just concluded that absurd, frenzied party, Monitor Yan and Zhong Peixuan displayed an incredibly calm demeanor, as though the sweat and breathless moans from moments ago had never occurred. They naturally blended back into the crowd lining up for the flag-raising ceremony.
"Attention!" "Right dress!"
As Yan Peiyu—the model class president—reclaimed her loud, authoritative tone, the ranks instantly fell into perfect order. While the faculty and students below patiently endured the principal's monotonous, cookie-cutter speech, she and I were conducting a completely different kind of "official business" in broad daylight.
"Secretary Yan," I murmured in a low voice. "I am here," she inclined her head slightly, her tone carrying a submissive reverence meant for my ears alone. "Take me on an inspection of the other classrooms." "Understood."
Under the cover of the school-wide assembly, I strolled leisurely under the guidance of Secretary Yan like an authoritative CEO inspecting factory output. I walked past rows of figures bound by their school uniforms, judging and evaluating these classmates who remained blissfully ignorant of their destinies, thoroughly savoring this hidden audit built upon the illusion of order.
Shortly after, I brought Secretary Yan to the academy library—an ancient structure steeped in history. We secured a secluded corner, repurposing the space into a temporary boardroom.
"The meeting is now called to order," I tapped the table, my expression stern and cold. "Let's discuss our governance strategy within this campus."
"Understood," Yan Peiyu responded, her tone as firm as a seasoned military general. Unfolding her ledger, she proposed with an unblinking gaze, "Boss, I believe we should establish a '24-Hour Personal Service System.' We will assign a rolling quota of two students daily who are never to leave your side. Aside from handling administrative chores, they must attend to your psychological and physiological demands at a moment's notice—whenever you intend to vent, they must comply unconditionally."
"Not a bad proposal. Let's formalize it as the 'Daily Monitor' system."
Hearing her proposal accepted, Yan Peiyu’s professional, efficient armor instantly dissolved. She hopped up with delight like a little girl receiving praise. Quickly clearing her throat, she toggled back into her corporate executive mode: "Regarding your executive office, I plan to station it in Classroom 3-B. That room is packed with top-tier beauties, including a famous idol-drama star. I will redesign your executive desk to ensure the space underneath reserves two comfortable slots, guaranteeing the students have optimal room to perform during oral services."
"What if their mouths get fatigued?" I asked casually.
"Of course, we must emphasize a proper work-rest balance. I'm not a heartless boss who exploits his workforce," I supplemented playfully.
"Understood. I will detail the rest intervals and rotation schedules into the SOP (Standard Operating Procedure) to ensure maximum efficiency."
Secretary Yan’s eyes burned with a fanatical loyalty as she bowed slightly, her tone laced with an unshakeable resolve. "As for me, please do not worry. I never tire, and I will remain by your side, ready for your deployment at any time."
My talent acquisition eye had indeed been flawless. Yan Peiyu not only possessed a genius aptitude for secretarial work, but the level of inner depravity within her was equal to, if not greater than, my own—and she was fiercely loyal. If anyone outside were told that these absurd corporate proposals originated from the cold, proud class president, no one would believe it.
Staring at her display of total devotion, a deep wave of satisfaction washed over me. Although my authority was sufficient to easily rewrite reality's perception, having a kindred spirit like her by my side to share this world-turning dominion brought an indescribable joy.
This unspoken rapport built upon twisted reality was far more intoxicating than any blind brainwashing.
Secretary Yan’s execution speed rivaled that of a group CEO; in no time at all, she had cleared out an absolute "sovereign territory" for me in Classroom 3-B.
Today’s shift roster for the Daily Monitor system consisted of Huang Meihua from the sophomore tier and Xie Qingyan from the senior tier. At this moment, they were curled up inside the cramped space beneath my executive desk without a single word of complaint, working diligently over my shaft. The sound of wet sucking and swallowing echoed softly within the quiet office.
"Senior, my mouth is getting a bit tired... I'd like to take a short recess," Huang Meihua requested, her voice muffled and thick.
"Understood, let me tag in," Xie Qingyan answered softly, her tone as flat as if they were discussing homework assignments. "I'll swap back with you once you've rested."
"Thank you, Senior..."
Leaning back elegantly against my executive chair, I listened to their incredibly polite yet profoundly scandalous dialogue while utilizing a Gantt chart in my notebook to precisely map out the renovation timeline for the entire campus. This sense of taking corrupted desires and cataloging them under a rigorous corporate structure brought me far greater pleasure than mindless violence.
"Re-classify the student body based on metrics of facial aesthetics, breast measurements, and academic performance, and build a comprehensive database," I ordered Secretary Yan, who stood attentively beside me, without turning my head. "As for the faculty, aside from the female teachers we choose to retain, transfer all male teachers completely out of my sight. Swap them with the female faculty from the neighboring Fuchen Academy."
Pausing my pen, I turned to look at her, a playful glint flashing in my eyes. "Secretary Yan, moving forward, I require a female teacher on standby beside me every day for my leisure. Let's initiate the schedule with my homeroom teacher, Director Guo Ruonan."
"Understood," Yan Peiyu noted down the command with an untroubled expression, treating it as a standard administrative directive.
Thinking of that homeroom teacher—who usually carried herself with absolute dignity but had already been completely thoroughly checked and broken by me—my blood began to throb once more. A moment later, Director Guo Ruonan pushed the door open and entered.
"Please be seated on the Boss's lap, Director," Yan Peiyu instructed. The moment she finished, Director Guo sat down on me without a hint of hesitation, as comfortably as if she were sitting on her own couch.
Just like that, with my homeroom teacher cradled in my lap, two students nestled at my feet, and my executive secretary standing at attention by my side, we waited together for the next class to begin amidst the chatter of the girls in Classroom 3-B.
Approximately five minutes later, the crisp clicking of high heels echoed from the corridor. Immediately following the sound, Liu Fangyun—the mathematics teacher dressed in a form-fitting, elegant corporate suit with a cascading waterfall of jet-black hair—stepped briskly into the classroom. Unfolding her lesson plan, she prepared to commence the lecture.
"Everyone, please turn to page 33 of your textbooks," Teacher Liu’s cold, crisp voice rang across the room.
Accompanied by a synchronized rustle of turning pages, the entire class—including Director Guo Ruonan in my lap—obediently opened their books. Amidst that disciplined rustling of paper, the only anomaly was the wet, rapid swallowing sounds filtering from beneath my desk, sounding exceptionally sharp against the backdrop of Teacher Liu’s ongoing lecture.
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