Jiang Wen lay limp and heavy against Jun Hao’s chest, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. She had been pushed over the edge countless times now, her body completely drained of every last drop of strength, reduced to nothing more than a trembling, sensitive vessel. She knew better than to make a sound. Long ago, in the beginning, she had cried out, she had pleaded, she had begged him to stop or to slow down when the pain became too sharp to bear. But every single time she had begged, every time she had shown her weakness or her desire for it to end, Jun Hao had only reacted with more fervor. He had taken her pleas not as requests, but as encouragement. Whenever she asked him to stop, he would only thrust harder, deeper, faster, driven by even greater passion, completely ignoring her words, as if her begging was nothing more than sweet music to his ears, urging him to go further.

Slowly, painfully, she had learned the cruel truth: begging was useless. It changed nothing. It only made him more relentless. So she had stopped. She had surrendered completely. There were no words left from her now, no pleas, no cries for mercy. She understood now that her wishes meant nothing here. Whatever she wanted or did not want did not matter. He would do exactly as he pleased, exactly as he desired, and nothing she said or did could ever make him change his mind. She accepted it; she was entirely at his mercy, and resistance was futile.

Jun Hao, meanwhile, felt no fatigue whatsoever. He remained calm, composed, and brimming with vitality, his body strong and fully charged, as if everything that had happened so far was merely the warm-up. He did not look at her with sharpness or intensity anymore. Instead, his expression was soft, peaceful, and filled with a deep, profound satisfaction and pride. He looked at her almost admiringly, with a sense of quiet accomplishment, as if he were gazing upon a perfect masterpiece he had carefully shaped and crafted entirely with his own hands. He was deeply, thoroughly pleased—satisfied to the core—because his work had succeeded perfectly. He had taken her, untouched and whole, and through his will and his touch, he had brought her exactly to this state: completely broken, completely overwhelmed, and completely, utterly helpless. And he knew exactly why she was silent now. He knew she had given up asking. He knew she had learned that her pleas meant nothing to him, that her surrender was absolute. That realization only made his satisfaction deeper. This was exactly the submission he had wanted.

Without pulling out even an inch, and with effortless, dominating strength, Jun Hao pushed himself up and shifted their position. He lifted Jiang Wen’s limp, heavy body easily off his lap, finally separating their bodies, though his hard, throbbing length remained ready and aching for more. He laid her back down onto the soft mattress, and she fell like a discarded doll, limbs splayed out weakly, unable to even curl up or protect herself.

Before she could even catch her breath or steady her spinning mind, Jun Hao moved again. He reached out and turned her body over roughly, pushing her until she lay face down, her soft stomach pressing into the bed. He grabbed her hips and pulled them high up, forcing her back to arch sharply, presenting her round, pale bottom high in the air, fully exposed and open to him. Her legs were spread wide apart, held firmly in place by his hands, leaving her with absolutely nowhere to hide.

Jiang Wen turned her head sideways on the pillow, her eyes wide, glistening with fresh tears, staring back at him over her shoulder. Her gaze was filled with pure, silent pleading—eyes begging for mercy, asking him to stop, asking him to be gentle, overflowing with fear and utter helplessness. Her hands moved weakly, scrabbling against the sheets, reaching out into empty space as if trying to find something to hold onto or push away, but she did not make a single sound. She did not speak. She did not cry out. She knew better. She knew it would do no good. Jun Hao completely ignored that look in her eyes, ignored her trembling hands, ignored her tears. To him, that terrified, pleading expression was the most beautiful sight in the world; it was proof of his absolute control.

Jun Hao knelt behind her, admiring the sight of her completely submissive form. Then, his hand moved between her legs, dipping down to collect the fluids that were dripping freely from her wet, abused entrance—evidence of how much she had been used, how much pleasure she had been forced to endure. He gathered the slippery, warm liquid onto his fingers, coating them thoroughly until they were glistening and slick. He did this deliberately, methodically. He brought his wet fingers back, pressing them against the tight, unfamiliar, tiny ring of muscle guarding her back entrance.

That place was different. It was far smaller, far tighter, completely unused, and naturally dry compared to her womanhood. It was a place that had never been touched, never been entered.

He pushed two fingers inside slowly but firmly. Jiang Wen’s whole body went rigid instantly, her back arching higher as a sharp, searing pain shot through her. Her mouth fell open in a silent scream, her eyes squeezing shut as tears leaked out faster. It was a sensation far more intense, far more invasive than anything she had felt before. But she endured it. She bit her lip until it turned white, her fingers clutching the bedsheets hard, saying nothing, doing nothing to stop him.

Jun Hao moved his fingers inside, stretching, twisting, opening her up. Every time he felt the moisture begin to dry or the tightness increase, he would pull his fingers out, dip them back into her lower entrance to gather more slick, wet fluid, and return to press and stretch her again. He repeated this cycle over and over, relentless and patient, working systematically to loosen her up. He added a third finger, forcing his way past the resistance, feeling her muscles clench and spasm violently around him. Jiang Wen was trembling uncontrollably, caught in a whirlwind of sharp pain and confusing, lingering pleasure that made her head spin. Even as he stretched her beyond her limits, her traitor body betrayed her, sending waves of orgasmic sensation through her that made her cry silently, hating how her body reacted even while she hurt.

He kept going. He pushed deeper, stretching wider, until finally, he was able to push four fingers inside her narrow passage at once. Jiang Wen convulsed violently, her body shaking with intense shudders, her mind blurring between agony and ecstasy as she was forced to accommodate so much. She was pushed to the edge of climax again and again, her body spasming around his fingers, weeping silently as pain and pleasure merged into one overwhelming, endless torture.

Only when he was satisfied that she was stretched enough, when he felt her muscles yielding slightly under his persistence, did Jun Hao finally withdraw his hand completely.

He positioned himself closer, the heavy, thick, rock-hard length of his manhood pressing right against that tiny, tight ring. It was enormous—much larger than his fingers, vastly larger than the small opening before him, even narrower and tighter than her vaginal entrance had been when he first took her innocence. He knew it would not be easy. He knew it would require force. And that only excited him more.

He pressed forward, pushing the thick head against the resistance. It was incredibly difficult. The opening clamped down so fiercely, refusing to yield, refusing to let something so massive pass through. Jun Hao had to exert immense strength, bracing himself, driving forward with heavy, grinding pressure. It was a struggle, a battle against her body’s natural defenses, but Jun Hao did not care. He did not care that it was hard. He did not care that it hurt her. He only cared about what he wanted.

Jiang Wen’s body went rigid as a board. The pressure was unbearable, stretching her wider than she had ever thought possible, a sensation of being torn apart all over again, but worse, much worse than before. Tears flowed freely now, streaming down her face and soaking the pillow, her body shaking with violent tremors of pure agony. She looked back at him one last time, eyes wide, swimming in tears, screaming silently, begging him with everything she had left in her soul to stop, to not do this.

Jun Hao did not even glance at her face. He focused entirely on the sensation, on the struggle, on the power he held. He gritted his teeth, summoned even more strength, and pushed forward with one final, heavy, relentless drive.

Pop. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

With a sensation of tearing and stretching that made Jiang Wen’s body arch off the bed in silent, screaming pain, the thickest part of him forced its way past the tight ring. And then, inch by thick, heavy inch, Jun Hao forced the rest of his length inside her, burying himself completely, sinking deep to the very root, until his hips were pressed flush against her trembling bottom. He had done it. He had conquered even this part of her.

And the sensation that hit him was unlike anything else.

It was indescribable. This place... it was tight. Unbelievably, impossibly tight. Much tighter than her vagina had ever been. The muscles there were in a frenzy, clamping down on him with a crushing, gripping force that surrounded him completely, squeezing him from all sides, hot and slick and unbelievably intense. It was like being enveloped by a warm, wet fist that refused to let go, hugging every vein, every curve of his length with a pressure that bordered on pain itself, but felt like pure, unadulterated heaven.

It was the most incredible, overwhelming pleasure Jun Hao had ever felt. The tightness was suffocating in the best way possible, the grip relentless and fierce, milking him even as he sat still. He could feel every single spasm of her muscles, every tremor of her body, every clench and release as her body tried desperately to adjust or push him out, but only succeeded in giving him more pleasure. It was so tight, so incredibly gripping, so perfectly suited to make him lose his mind.

He stayed there for a moment, deeply embedded, savoring the absolute perfection of the feeling, his eyes closing in pure bliss, a look of absolute triumph and satisfaction on his face. This was what he had wanted. This was the ultimate possession. He owned her completely now—every part of her, every opening, every inch of her body belonged entirely to him. And the way this tight, narrow passage gripped him, hugged him, refused to let him go... it was the sweetest reward for his effort.

Jiang Wen lay beneath him, completely impaled, completely destroyed. She was full, stretched beyond belief, aching and burning, tears still pouring down her face, her mind blank and numb. She felt so incredibly full, so invaded, so utterly owned. She did not move. She did not make a sound. She simply endured, broken and silent, knowing that this was just another thing she had to accept.