Chapter 34: How Does the Massage Chair Feel?
“Sob… hmph…”
Shen Yuan sobbed weakly. Beyond these muffled whimpers, he was completely unable to utter a single word of plea.
The mechanical arm clamped tightly around his slender, willowy waist. He writhed feebly, trying to escape the pressure, but the more he struggled, the tighter the mechanical hand gripped him.
“Ah…!”
Shen Yuan let out a cry of pain.
Intermittent moans echoed within the cramped confines of the storage room. Though filled with agonizing pain, his voice remained soft enough to melt into water.
He felt as though he were dying; every part of his body felt as if it were being crushed, the pain becoming unbearable.
Fine beads of cold sweat broke out on his forehead, soaking his beautiful face. His thin clothes were also drenched with sweat, clinging to his body and making his exquisite curves faintly visible.
Due to the ruthless ravaging of the mechanical arms, his fair skin was flushed crimson, looking delicate and tempting, as if one could not help but want to take a savage bite.
Shen Yuan had no idea how captivating he appeared at this moment to the man watching through the surveillance monitor.
His small, thin frame was completely enveloped by the massage chair, and he no longer had an ounce of strength left to resist.
Only muffled grunts of resistance escaped his soft,糯 voice, soon to be drowned out by the mechanical hum of the machine.
Shen Yuan drifted between consciousness and oblivion, his heavy eyelids feeling as if they were weighted with lead. Just as he was about to slip into a faint, the mechanical chair beneath him suddenly began to vibrate without warning!
Though the vibration wasn’t exceptionally strong, for someone already battered and broken, such a tremor was lethal! It was like rubbing salt into an open wound!
Shen Yuan’s mind snapped into clarity. His heart contracted violently, and the world spun before his eyes.
His body bounced up and down with the chair’s vibration. His stomach was forced upward, a churning sensation overcoming him until a metallic, fishy taste surged into his throat.
“Blegh…!”
A large amount of sour bile rushed into his throat. Shen Yuan jerked his head to the side and vomited, feeling miserable to the extreme.
But the massage chair showed no intention of stopping; the jolting became even more violent than the second before!
The back of the chair continued to grind against his sensitive spots. Shen Yuan felt as if his internal organs were being shifted out of place.
His consciousness was a muddled mess, leaving only the instinctive, pained whimpers of his pale mouth.
Finally, he could no longer withstand these horrific methods. His vision went black, and he slumped into a deep faint.
The blood-stained gauze on his forehead fell away, revealing a small, jagged, yet somewhat gruesome-looking scar that had already scabbed over.
It turned out Mister Yu had never intended to let him off…
Seeing him faint, Yu Xiuqing immediately signaled the bodyguard to turn off the massage chair. He instinctively stood up.
He felt a flash of panic for a moment, but it was only for a moment.
A heart filled with desire and darkness would never be shaken for anyone.
As a product of a life without affection, plundering and possessing everything had been his way of life since childhood.
Yu Xiuqing couldn’t help but sigh inwardly; the little fool was truly too fragile. The massage chair was only on the third setting and hadn’t even truly begun—could he not even handle this?
The sudden interruption left him somewhat dissatisfied. The spark of interest that had been ignited vanished instantly. It had been so long; why hadn’t Shen Yuan adapted to his punishments yet?
Then, the corners of his eyes lifted, tracing a cruel smile. This game… was far from over.
However, this time, Shen Yuan should have learned his lesson, right?
“Change him into clean clothes.”
Yu Xiuqing gave a cold instruction through the earpiece.
But soon, his gaze fixed on the wound on the corner of Shen Yuan’s forehead—the one left from hitting the wall in the bathroom.
Yu Xiuqing frowned, recalling the sight of blood streaming down Shen Yuan’s face in the bath, and the boy’s weak, piteous cries for mercy. His heart suddenly itched with an uncomfortable sensation.
He stared at the mark for a few seconds, let out a dissatisfied “tsk,” and then commanded Qi Yunzhao:
“Remove that scar on his forehead. My Yuanyuan’s face cannot have anything ugly on it.”
His tone sounded forceful, yet it held a trace of tenderness. The doting affection in his words was almost overflowing; anyone listening would think he was some overbearing CEO pampering his beloved little wife.
The Yu Family Manor.
Qi Yunzhao hesitated for two seconds. He habitually tilted his head slightly, speaking into the earpiece to remind the man on the other end:
“Sanye, though the potion for forced scar removal is the fastest and most effective, it might cause Shen Yuan quite a bit of pain. He might not be able to endure it. Are you… certain?”
After saying this, his heart hammered uncontrollably, and cold sweat broke out on his brow from tension.
After all, Shen Yuan was already covered in wounds. If the forced scar removal continued, he didn’t know if the little fool could survive it…
Furthermore, he was well aware that Yu Xiuqing’s motive wasn’t one of kindness.
He wasn’t worried about whether Shen Yuan lived or died, but rather feared that once the potion was applied, the boy might truly become a cold corpse, and he would be held responsible.
“Nonsense.”
the reply from the radio waves was short and blunt.
Hearing this answer, Qi Yunzhao’s brows furrowed involuntarily. He knew his superior’s temper.
A madman devoid of reason.
“Understood.”
Qi Yunzhao’s voice remained calm. He turned and walked toward the infirmary, returning a moment later with a small vial of potion in his hand.
He looked at the dark red liquid inside the transparent glass bottle, his gaze turning slightly cold. His pupils were tinged with an eerie crimson as he shook the vial gently.
Then, he looked up and pushed open the storage room door.
Seconds later, a shrill, heart-wrenching scream drifted out. It was a sound of agonizing pain that made one’s heart tighten. Before long, the voice weakened into soft whimpers.
Yu Xiuqing stood before the screen, appreciating the scene without any trace of emotion. No ripples disturbed his eyes; only a faint smile hung on his lips as he murmured softly:
“Yuanyuan, don’t cry. Just bear with it. You wouldn’t want to be loved by me while sporting such an ugly scar, would you?”
The Storage Room.
Qi Yunzhao slowly injected a tube of life-sustaining serum into the boy’s ice-cold body.
Seeing a trace of color finally return to that deathly pale face, he felt his tensed heart quietly relax.
Fortunately, he hadn’t died.
But he had to admit, Shen Yuan’s life was quite stubborn. After being toyed with so ruthlessly by that man, he hadn’t turned into a pile of mud and had managed to survive until now.
The youth’s chest rose and fell weakly. His fair skin took on a faint pinkish glow under the lights, and his small mouth trembled, emitting broken, lingering moans.
Qi Yunzhao’s peripheral vision accidentally caught a glimpse of that enticing scene. His gaze deepened instantly, and he immediately looked away.
Though he had been trained by Yu Xiuqing into a cold and ruthless assassin, he was, after all, a man in his prime. Seeing such a delicate body and such a sensual scene, he could not help but feel his blood stir instinctively.
His fingers, hanging at his side, twitched slightly. He had intended to reach out and pull Shen Yuan’s open clothes together, but he immediately suppressed that unnecessary thought.
Because above his head, his employer’s eyes were currently fixed on his every move.
Qi Yunzhao immediately turned away as if nothing had happened, tossed the syringe into the trash, and walked toward the door.
Shen Yuan, on the massage chair, seemed to experience a brief moment of lucidity, like a final flash of light before the end. He gasped for breath before slowly returning to normal, but the pain across his body remained agonizingly real.
As the chair tilted forward, he was shifted into a sitting position. His misty eyes blinked with difficulty, vaguely seeing a dark figure exiting the cubicle.
“Cough, cough…”
The youth’s voice was thin as he coughed, trying his best to fully open his eyes, yet he found himself powerless to do so.
He felt as though his entire body had been crushed by a vehicle; even breathing seemed to be devouring his consciousness, leaving him unable to control himself.
His eyelids were too pained to lift, so Shen Yuan simply gave up. His head rested tiredly against the soft back of the chair, craving even a small, unattainable moment of comfort.
Just as he slipped back into a drowse, he suddenly felt an itch near his ear, as if someone had blown a warm breath against him.
The sensation was comfortable, like a feather brushing back and forth, gently teasing him.
What was happening?
Shen Yuan struggled to open his eyes, but his gaze refused to obey. They were heavily weighted and impossible to lift.
He could feel his earlobe being nipped by something, then licked by a wet, warm tongue.
A wave of numbness spread from his ear through his entire body. Every cell seemed to break apart and begin to boil.
Then, soft lips seemed to take his ear into their mouth, sucking gently with a teasing intent.
“Nn… ah…”
A soul-stirring moan escaped his lips, and his body twisted slightly.
The sensation was far too familiar, causing his entire body to tremble uncontrollably and his heart to race.
So uncomfortable…
What exactly was going on?!
In his muddled state, his brain was completely unable to judge the situation.
This pained, delicate moan sounded like deliberate seduction to the man’s ears. The thin lips that had held his earlobe suddenly released it, moving instead to cover his slender neck.
He kissed the youth’s neck, biting with varying pressure. Feeling the goosebumps rise on that soft, fair skin, an endless sense of satisfaction welled up in his heart.
His other hand caressed the boy’s cold nape. His fingertips, bearing thin calluses, rubbed against the sensitive skin, leaving behind patches of faint red.
His consciousness was severely blurred; Shen Yuan could only vaguely sense the heavy masculine scent near his neck.
This familiar scent forced him to shrink back in fear, wanting to escape the harassment of that hand.
But the owner of the hand clearly would not let him have his way. He gripped the boy’s neck firmly and let out a soft, mocking chuckle: “Such an alluring little thing.”
The voice was sexy and blurred, laced with a hint of huskiness and magnetic charm that could make one’s bones go soft.
The moment this demonic voice sounded, Shen Yuan’s face turned instantly pale. He struggled with all his might to break free from the hand clamped tightly around his neck, but it was useless.
“Let… go… cough, cough…” His throat felt as if something were lodged in it, allowing only muffled sounds of resistance to escape.
Yu Xiuqing sneered. His thumb stroked the youth’s temple with satisfaction; the scar there had vanished.
He leaned down, exhaling a smoke ring toward Shen Yuan’s flushed ear, and said huskily: “How does the massage chair feel? Do you still dare to run away behind my back in the future?”
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