My heart had grown so desolate that tears wouldn’t even come—leaving me with no choice but to obey the demon girl before me.

My hands lifted the hem of my dress, face burning crimson. But the tight straps of the sundress held fast. Honestly, the Taobao store really delivered top-tier quality.

She never looked away, voice dripping with playful mockery: “Oh? Taking this long to undress while your master records… Xixi… are you secretly a performer from some club with *special* preferences?”

“No! Just… turn your head! If you keep staring like that, I… I can’t get it off!”

It was just an excuse. Any outfit you can put on, you can take off. The real problem was the thick, suffocating tension—and the shyness and panic clawing at my chest.

She showed no mercy. Tilting her chin up, she hooked a finger under mine, tone light and teasing: “Can’t get it off? Sounds like a toddler struggling with pants. With a stunning beauty like me watching… can’t you indulge your little kink? Or… do you *like* this?”

Calling herself a “stunning beauty”—so narcissistic. (Though… she *was* breathtaking.) A demon tempting desire, cruel yet radiant.

I couldn’t argue. Because… deep down, I wasn’t truly resisting.

A strange, fluttering feeling—like a newlywed bride pretending reluctance while secretly hoping for more. My cheeks flushed; my eyes darted away like a startled fawn’s.

Then—*Mmph!*—a terrifying interruption shattered the already-charged moment.

Her cherry lips brushed my ear, breath warm and feather-light—

S-so… itchy!

Like a single feather tracing my skin. Trapped, I curled inward, face crumpling near tears. Every silent plea, every unspoken shame shimmered in my eyes—and she watched it all, looking down with quiet amusement.

A soft chuckle escaped her. “The more I watch you… the more you look like a pampered house pet. Guess you really *are* meant to be mine.”

“I… I do?” My whisper was lost, helpless and dazed—as if speaking only to myself.

“What’s wrong? Unhappy being my pet?”

As she spoke, her teeth grazed my earlobe. A jolt shot through me.

“P-please… let me go…” My voice trembled, barely a whisper.

I felt like a wronged bride before a domineering mistress—powerless, swallowing my pride.

Yet her expression glowed with pure enjoyment.

“Hey. Is *that* how you beg?”

“Please… I… I don’t like this…”

“But you’re *so* in character, hmpf. You say ‘no’… but you *like* it, don’t you? Being teased by a girl?”

Humiliation silenced me. She held all the power. And yet… deeper still… a strange, surrendering relief bloomed—like a rubber band snapping after being stretched too far.