[Power's Scent DIV]

Chapter 20: Yan Wenyun, the True Meaning of Humiliation
[Extended Chapter]
Holding her breasts in her palms, caressing her nipples, she actively offered, rubbed, caressed, touched, and
teased them… Of course, there was no milk, but Yan Wenyun still felt that this action was like squeezing out
the dignity and chastity of her womanhood, forcing the sap of her soul to seep from her body to nourish and serve
a man.
From puberty onwards, Yan Wenyun, like other girls, had various hazy
sexual fantasies. She had secretly watched pornographic films, read different types of erotic novels, and some erotic comics from Japan
, searching for traces of sexual pleasure in romantic reveries and the comfort of her fingertips. But she
never imagined that one day she would use her most prized possession—her breasts, which she had even, for a time, believed in feminist
rhetoric and considered a symbol of her "independence, pride, and self"
—as such a lowly and lewd sex object, to actively perform these unbearable
acts , to please a man.
But regardless, she did it anyway. Moaning… panting… her legs spread apart on
either side of Ishikawa Yue's body. One hand supported her body, preventing her from falling against Yue
; the other hand held her breasts, cupping the tips of her nipples and offering them
to Yue's mouth, first for him to suck and lick. In fact, just those few suckles, feeling the moist suction
drawing forward, the layers of fat and muscle being transferred, while
Chuan Yue's tongue licked her sensitive areas, leaving saliva on her nipples and areolas, almost
made her experience an unprecedented orgasm, to the point of fainting. She had fantasized that with
such beautiful and alluring breasts, her future boyfriend would be irresistible, touching, playing with,
kissing , and kneading them would be inevitable. She even enjoyed this, a fantasy she'd had since her teenage years,
of possessing a body that gave her pride and could offer the most beautiful reward to the boy who loved her.
But at this moment, this humiliating, sorrowful, and subservient scene was something she had never
imagined. She was actually, truly, like a lowly female slave, willingly using her most prized, soft,
clean, and sensitive secondary sexual characteristics, supporting, squeezing, lifting, and lying on a man's body, offering herself to
him for his pleasure and pleasure. It was humiliating, humiliating, and shameful at the time, but... she could
feel an overwhelming, almost unbearable pleasure, like her entire body was melting,
emanating from her brain as dopamine surged forth. Her lower body was already very sore, a soreness
similar to that of masturbation, but ten times more intense. She could feel her vagina secreting
shameful fluids, a mixture of sourness, bitterness, and intense desire. But this wasn't
rape, nor adultery, nor even seduction. Actively, she lay on top of Ishikawa Yue,
cupping her breasts for him to suck and play with, as if guided by some kind of seduction from him... She
even felt that this strange feeling of pushing her limits was somewhat like a physical
training session she had participated in before. When her muscles ached to the point of maximum pain, that was when she needed to grit her teeth and endure it; when she was so exhausted that her
vision blurred and her mind became unclear, that was when her skills and physical abilities improved most rapidly. And
at this moment, when the humiliation and torture reached their peak, it was also a time of continuous pleasure…
She needed to learn, she needed to endure, she needed to try to be… Ishikawa Yue's sex slave.
She didn't know why she had finally fallen into this strange emotional cycle that was actually quite unbelievable. Last
night, Ishikawa Yue was clearly out of his mind, yet he unexpectedly talked to her a lot, a lot… even
about many dark and profound things that she couldn't imagine. In fact, she couldn't quite keep up with Yue's pace. "
The history of the Shi family"? "Unequal transactions"? "The director of the State-owned Assets Supervision and Administration Commission"? "Be my sex slave"? "Xia Wanqing
's true background"? "The Hexi Women's Badminton Team sent to the capital to be played with"? "The Xiaoyue Tower of Foundation Building"? "
Chen Li is an idiot"? "Do you know what Song Xia's background is?" She was mostly confused by what she heard…
…but she understood the multiple-choice question. Accepting Chuan Yue and willingly becoming his sex slave; resisting Chuan Yue and being
coerced into becoming his sex slave... just as Chuan Yue implied, what's the difference? Then, she didn't know
which action or scene aroused the man's desire again. The drunken Chuan Yue pulled her,
violently tearing her t-shirt, jeans, bra, and underwear to shreds, her underwear even torn to a single
piece of cloth... She even worried mindlessly about what to wear
to leave this room later, or the next morning. But after Chuan Yue had been embracing her naked body, touching and kissing her for a while, even
starting to suckle her breasts, before he had even begun to rape her, he suddenly looked like he was about to vomit.
She could only help Chuan Yue, still naked, to the bathroom, letting him vomit repeatedly. At that
moment , she felt like a qualified little lover, a little wife, or... a little slave girl.
She initially thought that the dazed Ishikawa Yue wouldn't do anything more, but she wondered
what this man was made of… was he just incredibly fit, or had an insatiable sex drive? Ishikawa Yue rested on the sink for a
while, seemingly becoming a little more sober, but he lacked the energy to shower and, still drunk, resumed his
assault . He embraced her body, moving her from the bathroom to the room, kissing, caressing, and murmuring
drunken phrases like "Call me master," "Be my sex slave," and "Obey me." He then began to stroke,
tease , attack, and humiliate her.
She noticed a glass vase beside her and even considered smashing
it knock him unconscious. But of course, she didn't choose to do that. She succumbed, even
indulging in a self-deceptive daze. In her mind, perhaps since Ishikawa Yue was drunk, no one would see her shameful state. She was
caressed, pressed down, dragged, kissed, licked, probed, and penetrated… in a hazy, intoxicating state …In the depths of her being, filled with intense satisfaction within her vagina and reaching a frenzied clitoral engorgement, she even cried out in a hoarse voice, "You are my master, I am your sex slave..." She comforted herself, anyway, Chuan Yue was drunk.

She couldn't hear it anyway, so she treated it as a wet dream, a moment of masturbation. What she couldn't face was that, to some extent,
she longed to hear herself utter such humiliating and shameful words. These cries made her eyes water,
but they also gave her a sense of fulfillment and existence.
"You are my master, I am your sex slave!"
She had actually succumbed so easily. Was it because
this was the most acceptable path she had envisioned for her relationship with Chuan Yue? Was it Chuan Yue's confession about family and
the transaction that moved her? Was it her innate desire to find a
stable relationship, even if it was between a master and a slave? Or was it that her body was honest, unable to resist
the immense pleasure that accompanied the intense shame and trampling during each time Chuan Yue played with her? All of these! But there was another layer of thought that made her feel how mercenary and shameless
she was .
That is: since she's already been raped by Chuan Yue, if she doesn't
maintain , become a "stranger" to him, or even become his "enemy," wouldn't she
ultimately gain nothing? A sum of money, some kind of resource support, assistance and
guidance in her career—anything would be fine. She knows this thought is realistic, vulgar, base, and shameless, but it's
the truth deep within her heart. In a sense, she even believes that this reality, this vulgarity, this baseness and shamelessness,
were instilled in her by Shi Chuan Yue. At least, it was aroused by him.
Rape me, humiliate me, defile me, ruin me—anything is fine, last night was fine, today is
fine… Last night, under Chuan Yue's intoxication, she treated it as a rehearsal for herself, as if she were masturbating,
as if she were enjoying the humiliating pleasure of being raped alone. Now, before the lucid Chuan Yue, she
utterly submits, her hands behind her back as he plays with her breasts, rubbing her genitals against his. At this moment, she even actively
provides him with a full-body breastjob.
Humiliation, continue to humiliate, forever humiliate! Humiliation can bring such a powerful sense of security,
pleasure, satisfaction, that bittersweet feeling. From her lower abdomen, from her nipples,
from her vagina, from her uterus… comes an unprecedented, forbidden pleasure. She doesn't think she has
any masochistic tendencies; perhaps it's just part of the innate composition of sexual pleasure. But at this moment,
before Ishikawa Yue, when she can disregard society, disregard others, disregard national teams and other groups,
offering her humiliation, she can feel her expression, her body, her trembling
so distorted, distorted yet pleasurable.
She twisted her hands and body, pulling her nipple out of Ishikawa Yue's mouth and
continuing . Yue always shaved his beard cleanly, but even so, after a night of drunkenness, it seemed some
stubble was stubbornly growing back, the hardest hairs at the roots. The rubbing, the prickly sensation against her sensitive nerves, made her nipple
increasingly sore, as if it were about to explode within her breasts, surging with a mixture of pleasure and humiliation. She awkwardly
rubbed downwards, across Yue's strong neck, all the way to his broad chest.
A man's nipples are like rivets, like coins, like strong ornaments. Around the nipples is a ring of
hair symbolizing male hormones. Holding her nipples, holding her breasts, she pressed and squeezed them together
. Why do people like to look at girls' breasts? Why do people pay so much attention to the two soft peaks on
their chests? When a woman's nipples collide with a man's, she is so delicate, so
humble, yet so beautiful, so enigmatic. A woman's breasts are truly born to be the most suitable for a man's
sexual gratification. People boast of being the "Queen of Beautiful Breasts" in the Hexi tennis world; it all boils down to this,
to the collision of their chests.
Ishikawa Yue seems to thoroughly enjoy the rubbing against his chest; his body throbs restlessly, his hands
tracing patterns on his smooth back. The delicate skin of his back seems to burn with a fiery pain, perhaps because Chuan Yue
's fingertips are digging into his beautiful back in a playful manner. But this is also a form of expression—an expression of appreciation, a sign of pleasure,
a desire for their chests to touch even more intimately.
She didn't understand many techniques, nor did she know how to further please a man. She could only desperately press
her breasts down, maximizing the contact area with Chuan Yue's chest, using softness, tingling, shame,
teasing, and service to let Chuan Yue completely possess her
breasts treasures while simultaneously demonstrating her sovereignty over them. She even had a strange feeling that her breasts, these
so-called "symbols of female independence and health," no longer held sovereignty over her, but had become this
man's possession. These symbols of feminine charm, which she had cherished, developed, nourished, and protected—these
soft, fragrant, high, smooth, and supple breasts—would henceforth be utterly degraded into toys for the man she
was serving.
Toys. Her breasts, it turned out, were best defined as toys. Or was her entire body
best defined as toys? Or was her entire life best defined as toys? Was it
degeneration, or elevation? Was it hell? Or another mysterious world? It turned out that offering one's most precious
possession to another for humiliation and play could actually produce a stimulating pleasure from this absurd contrast. Her mind
was somewhat clouded, her breathing labored, the strong scent of his body seeping into her lungs through her nostrils. Her mind
was filled with thoughts of humiliation, shame, yet also stimulation.
Did men have a scent? Or perhaps it wasn't even a scent, but a sour, acrid smell, brimming with a peculiar
hormonal secretion. "Ah…mmm…" As she fondled her own breasts, ravaged her
nipples, and offered up her breasts, she couldn't help but inhale deeply into Chuan Yue's
breath , and began to moan lewdly.
How could her voice be so wanton? If Chuan Yue heard these moans, would she have any dignity or self-respect left in his presence
? No, she wouldn't. But dignity and self-respect, chastity and restraint, weren't things Chuan
Yue needed anyway. She rubbed, rubbed desperately, her nipples spinning wildly. Using her abdominal muscles,
she moved her entire upper body in a spiral motion, contacting and releasing fluids. Her waist and hips engaged, her entire upper body
twisting and turning in circles. The pressure on her breasts was excruciating, yet also indescribably pleasurable—a pleasure she had never experienced before.
No matter how much she masturbated, no matter how much she teased and played with her breasts, she had never reached such
a peak . More fluid…more fluid was secreting from her lower body. Desire, more desire, also a desire for more
humiliation.
While doing this, her back arched slightly, because of the height difference, so that
her breasts and Chuan Yue's chest could perfectly align. But this also caused Chuan Yue's penis
to sway and slap wildly between her lower abdomen and genitals; she could even feel the heat and fluid emanating from
the tip of .
"Mmm…down there, down there…" Chuan Yue's voice began to grow heavy and disordered; he
couldn't control himself, letting out those extremely pleasurable groans. Yan Wenyun suddenly felt a heartfelt sense of satisfaction,
like all wives pleasing their husbands, all girlfriends pleasing their boyfriends, all…
sex slaves pleasing their masters. Her humiliation, her debauchery, clearly brought this man a chaotic
and pleasurable pleasure. The key is that the man before her isn't so easily swayed.
Does he enjoy the service of her breasts? Does he enjoy the contact with her nipples? Regardless, these breasts, these nipples, this
body, this vagina, are all hers, and she can use them as she pleases. Her choices, no matter how she
tries to conceal them, whether she admits it or not, are, in fact, for this man to enjoy, to play with, to abuse, and
to humiliate. If she can bring him pleasure, enough pleasure, more pleasure, won't she also receive
something in return ? Enough return, more return. Money is return, power is return, resources are return, even
pleasure, isn't that return? So what if she's a sex slave? Just like Chuan Yue said, sex slavery is also a kind of transaction,
isn't it? The bargaining chip she has, the one from which she can obtain the most unequal exchange, isn't it her body, isn't it
her breasts? Men want to play with them, want to see them, want to touch them, want to possess them, want to humiliate them, want to abuse them… Fine,
give them your terms of exchange, at least give them your expressions of pleasure and madness, right? Of course, in front of Chuan Yue, she
first needed to gain leverage. She had to please him, even if it was clumsy, even if it was shameful, she had to try her best
to please him. Shyness could please him, so she should be shy; humiliation could please him, so she should be humiliated
… Moreover, what she couldn't tell the world was that humiliation itself actually had such an intense pleasure
as a byproduct. Humiliation… If it were a husband to a wife, a boyfriend to a girlfriend, even in a role-playing game, even if
they learned all the scenarios, they couldn't learn that kind of deep-seated, unforgettable humiliation. Conversely
, they also couldn't taste the pleasure of humiliation when a woman is humiliated. Perhaps humiliation was the true meaning, and
lust was the disguise. If it weren't for the tricks of fate that allowed her to become a man's sex slave, she might
never have experienced this pleasure brought by humiliation in her entire life.
Next, next… She understood what Chuan Yue meant. She had seen this in pornographic films. Although she had never tried
it, she understood the general movements of breast sex. As a girl who had been labeled "big-breasted" since puberty
, she had imagined the day she might offer breast sex to a man.
The thought filled her with shame; she couldn't imagine her beautiful, pure, and lustrous
breasts being intertwined with a man's...things. But today was the day she would experience it for the first time
.
She knew it was shameful, but she also knew that as Ishikawa Yutaka's slave, and with the title of "the most beautiful breasts in the Hexi
tennis world "...her breasts were destined to be completely possessed and played with by Ishikawa Yutaka,
and offering him breast sex as a declaration of submission was an inevitable outcome. She needed to do it, she had to
do it , and she longed to do it. She began to lower her body, little by little, until her genitals
brushed against Yutaka's strong, hot penis. She had to suppress her primal urges, to use that
penis to pierce her desire. She was meant to serve Ishikawa Yue, to bring him pleasure; her own desires
were secondary. She lowered herself, lower still, a little further down, until her legs were already hanging off the bed
… That thick, long thing, its tip steaming and shaped like an umbrella, brushed past her lower abdomen,
past her breasts, finally coming into view.
Dark, somewhat ugly, yet somehow cute. Its full scrotum was like a complete sphere;
only by carefully examining the pubic hair and folds could one see the shape of the two testicles. From the middle seam
rose a thick, cylindrical penis, its cylindrical body coiled with veins like
venomous snakes and angry dragons. She couldn't imagine
how a man could live with such a behemoth between his legs.
Reaching out, trembling, she touched it. So hot, so shameful. The instant she touched it, it was no
illusion; that thing seemed to twitch, swelling slightly with each pulse. This thick
, cylindrical object, this symbol of male power and fertility, was something that could defile, humiliate, and abuse girls,
something that could enjoy a woman's body, enjoy the pain of losing her virginity,
something that could spread male dominance with just touch and thrusting. This was the thing that had stolen her virginity on the tennis court.
And now, she would serve it, she would serve it, she would offer her snow-white, delicate breasts for its unbridled
humiliation , she would submit herself to this thing as a slave beneath its crotch. Her breasts were the most exquisite things in the world,
a creation of heaven, works of art, treasures that mortals could only dream of, sacred peaks that fans dared only fantasize about in secret … At the same time, they were also the sex toys that this thing wantonly ravaged and played with, a lowly existence
that could only bring it pleasure and lust .
Her breasts were white, yet no longer white; her nipples were pink, yet no longer pink
…
She gritted her teeth and arched her breasts against them. She no longer had the rational capacity to savor how shameful and subservient this
act of was. If a man’s penis violating and penetrating a woman’s vagina was still
an instinct driven by sexual desire and reproductive needs, what did it mean to surround a man’s penis with one’s own breasts? Why
would a man enjoy this process? She was powerless to feel, powerless to think, relying only on instinct, on
the buzzing in her brain, “I am a sex slave, I am a sex slave, I must please my master…” she arched
her entire body against them. Those two soft, fragrant, high-rising mounds, possessing both cotton-like softness and elasticity…
The snow-capped peaks, slightly parted,
enveloped the steaming, fiery phallus, imbued with the power to humiliate women.
Sensual, stimulating, and undeniably humiliating… so this is what breast sex is like—a painful position.
It was merely touch, skin to skin, but the inner sides of the breasts felt like they
were being branded with hot irons. It wasn't just touch; it was humiliation, torture, and the most unbelievable
contrast . The breasts were snow-white, delicate, almost poreless, and hairless. They were soft and supple, so soft that
pressing them against the skin could leave an indentation. Even the nipples were just cute, bouncy, and
smooth little bumps. But the penis was dark and thick, its base covered in pubic hair and wrinkles, emitting a sour smell and
pulsating with a kind of sacrilegious rhythm. The veins coiling around the penis spread and intertwined like the roots of an old tree.
Only the urethral opening at the glans, a tender flesh color contrasting with the darkness, told the secrets of the man's body.
This was it! The humiliation had reached this point! Was there any way out? He didn't know if darkness
or , if survival or extinction, but at this moment, he truly had no other choice. My own breasts, my own
milk—back home we call them "nai'er," some call them "mimi," and more refined people call them "xiongpu" (chest). They were
my treasures. Though I'd feigned annoyance countless times, saying, "Can you please stop just looking at my breasts?"
deep down, they were my breasts, my nipples, my flesh, my scent, my areolas, my warmth, my peaks—
no longer just treasures for my own private quarters to caress and fantasize about, but possessions of this man. It was a symbol, a symbol of my utmost submission, even more symbolic
than the first time I was raped by Ishikawa Yue, my hymen broken, the blood of my virginity flowing. I gave them to him, everything to him, all of it to him. The most humiliating act, the most lewd act, was given to him. I gave him my most exquisite beauty, my most cherished body. If he could find pleasure in the tingling in my breasts, the numbing sensation in my nipples, the submission of my body, the humiliation of my soul, I wished he could enjoy it all without restraint. I am his captive, his sex slave, his pet; I will offer him everything! She began to move her body clumsily, but she immediately realized that even though her breasts possessed a firmness and height rarely seen in Asian girls, they couldn't completely clamp down on that terrifying thing. She was a little anxious, a little confused. This anxiety and confusion slightly brought her back to her naive and foolish nature from her confusion and bewilderment. "Use both hands to squeeze from the outside. Like this..." Chuan Yue's buttocks were already thrusting, as if an unbearable surge of desire was about to overwhelm him, and if he couldn't find the feeling soon, he would immediately take the initiative to violate her breasts. That "I'll teach you" voice, yet with a commanding tone, came from her head . Gritting her teeth, she learned and tried, feeling a bit awkward, like practicing a one-handed racket for the first time. But she persisted, learning and trying, knowing that beyond this obstacle lay a new world… She began pressing inwards from the . Sure enough, the soft tissue of her breasts was immediately pushed against the penis, enveloping it completely, even sinking into its fragrant embrace, seamlessly fitting in from a 360-degree angle. She didn't know what Chuan Yue felt, but even she felt a wave of tingling, comfortable pleasure from the penis… Using this comfort, she used her waist to move up and down, feeling the penis slowly thrusting in and out from the inside of her cleavage. At first, she only used her waist to move her upper body up and down for about twenty or thirty centimeters. But this was something she did naturally, without being taught, or perhaps it was the more acute, natural athletic ability and instinct of an athlete. After five or six minutes of manipulation, she began to understand the key. The inward squeezing of her breasts was accompanied by a sideways force, using her upper body as a base to push her breasts up and down ... The combination of these two movements allowed her breasts, nipples, and areolas to undulate to the maximum extent at both the up-and-down and side angles, completely rubbing against the already hard, cylindrical object, completely rolling and completely uniting with it. "Ah..." "Ah..." "Waaah..." "Waaah..." With her movements, and with the penis that was jaw, which had been biting her lower lip, loosened. She even suspected that her lower lip had bled... How could she face anyone after this? But her thoughts also shattered in the last absurd thought of "daydreaming." She moaned loudly. She vaguely remembered reading in an article that when a girl performs breast sex on a man, it is the man who gets the pleasure, and the woman doesn't actually feel anything. That was a lie. Not only did her breasts feel like they were about to burst, but even though she was pushing her nipples until they were almost out of shape, there was an uncontrollable swelling sensation. She desperately wanted to shout out the inexplicable words, "My breasts, save my breasts!!!" It was strange; some slang from her hometown called a woman's breasts "nai'er," but it was too vulgar for her to have ever learned. Why, in her confused state, did she have this sudden urge to shout? She felt somewhat lost, yet also... somewhat comfortable. It seemed that this term, which felt lewd , was the ideal home for her two precious breasts. "Ah...it hurts so much." "Waaah...no more..." "Help..." "Waaah..." "Master..." Accompanied by the almost unconscious stroking and rubbing, she finally couldn't control her desire and cried out, but because her throat was painfully numb, she could only utter fragments of words... She no longer knew what she was saying or what she wanted to say. Her voice grew louder and louder, almost worrying that she would disturb the neighbors, but her sentences became more and more incoherent. But she couldn't care less about that anymore. Her lower body was flowing with fluid, and her breasts felt a little sore, but the deep contact with Chuan Yue's penis seemed to reduce the pain. The only way for her to relieve the burning desire in her heart was to continue stroking vigorously, using her pure breasts to ...i=63> She teased and manipulated them. Even… deliberately squeezing her two nipples, touching, rolling, and merging them with Chuan Yue's penis. Thrusting, thrusting, thrusting. This thrusting motion seemed to be a way of treating her most precious, most clean, former self…

The most cherished pair of beautiful things were subjected to the greatest insult and defilement, yet it also felt like the most perfect fulfillment… Her lower body was already
completely muddy, and she suspected the sheets were a mess, but she couldn't care less. Thrusting, thrusting,
thrusting … The sound of Ishikawa Yue's breathing became increasingly disordered…
Suddenly! She could feel the most delicate spiritual touch on her breasts, a
rhythmic burst of energy like blood vessels exploding, she could hear a rushing, squeezing sound, she could smell
a fishy odor growing stronger… "Ah…!!!" Ishikawa Yue also suddenly grabbed her hair and
pressed her entire upper body hard against his.
A gushing stream of hot liquid spurted out. She could feel her breasts being sprayed and drenched with a
liquid, another gushing, another large gushing… Ishikawa Yue almost pulled out several strands of her hair, and
let out a deep, bull-like roar. She was in excruciating pain, but she couldn't even perceive it, as a thick, viscous fluid was gushing
from her lower body, reaching its peak. Her entire body trembled, and her uterus contracted in a nauseating spasm. Pleasure and despair, emptiness and satisfaction... all intertwined, poisoning her brain. As for the rest of her body, she had almost lost all feeling. Except for her breasts... For some reason, even as she was becoming numb, her breasts, her nipples, her "milks," felt incredibly tender, incredibly vulnerable, incredibly soft, incredibly tempting, incredibly wanting to melt into Ishikawa Yue's body... But at this moment, there was no need for any cupping, squeezing, or pushing... Their bodies seemed glued together . She knew it was dirty, she knew it was shameful, she knew it was disgraceful, she knew it was breaking down, but she had no strength left to care, and she went limp against Ishikawa Yue's body. ... She didn't know how much time had passed, maybe tens of minutes, but maybe only a few minutes. As the pleasure and loss, the emptiness and satisfaction slowly faded, a more real feeling spread: sadness, regret, anguish...were there tears? Tears streamed down her face...Her nose stung, her heart ached, even more than the day she lost her virginity in Pingxing. She had actually done... she had actually done things she could never face. She didn't know why, maybe she really did have a problem with "daydreaming." She had drifted off again. She thought of the girl who had "harmed" her to this point: It's all Qiongqiong's fault, it's all Qiongqiong's fault, it's all Qiongqiong's fault!!! Was this her humiliating fate? Was this the true meaning of humiliation? Was this the best path in life she could choose for herself? Or...was everything wrong? It was Shi Chuanyue who harmed her, she harmed herself, no! It was all Shi Qiong's fault.

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