GH-50

Chapter Fifteen Part 1: Conquest and Humiliation

In a spacious, simple but luxurious office, a tablet computer on the grand desk displayed a high-definition erotic image. 

Even seated, Yedun’s hulking frame loomed like a hill. Now, he stared expressionlessly at the image two extremely buxom women sitting in a subway car, their backs to the camera, their outfits shockingly revealing. The shot was taken from below, so every curve was showcased. 

On the left was a woman in a full, tight fishnet bodysuit, her massive, snow-white buttocks bulging against the mesh, nearly spilling out. The woman on the right had even paler, glowing skin, a rear end even bigger than the first, but paired with a strikingly slender waist. From this angle, she was almost fully exposed: her round, upturned, snow-white cheeks, the long, deep crevice rising between them, and at the end of that cleft, something pink and glistening faintly visible. 

Any normal man would feel his heart racing at this sight. 

Yedun squinted slightly, swiping to the next image again the two women sitting, chatting, clearly unaware of the camera. 

Yedun was not aroused by these women’s exposed bodies; he just studied the shots coolly, rapping his fingers on the desk, then picking up the phone to dial a number. He spoke Japanese, and a woman’s low voice answered. After a quick exchange, Yedun hung up and resumed scrolling. 

The next image showed a shorter youth bringing iced coffee to the women. The nearly naked woman stood, looking impatient, seemed to scold him. 

Yedun’s eyebrow arched slightly, a hint of satisfaction. 

Then the images changed now a pair of younger women, both curvaceous as well, though dressed differently: one in a sheer, body-hugging dress, the other in a sort of bandage wrap, barely covering her essentials. 

The young women, arm in arm, shopped cheerfully, utterly indifferent to the stares. 

A phone buzzed. A text message. Yedun checked, then called his younger brother, Jiro, apparently sending him to handle some trouble. 

…………………………………………………………………………………… 

My god, what had I just gone through? 

Returning to Dongsheng HQ, I could hardly believe what I’d seen Mom and Leng Niang do. 

After leaving the footbridge, Leng Niah tried to console me, saying kind things to Mom, but Mom remained haughty and aloof fitting her previous role as a domineering CEO, but now so scantily clad it was almost more arousing. 

Then, just as threatened, we’d gone to the subway station Mom and Leng Niah’s exposed outfits caused an immediate commotion. AV talent scouts materialized, practically frothing at the mouth when they learned of the women’s actual identities. A simple glare from me, trained in breathing techniques, sent them scurrying. 

On the train, the women deliberately crowded where it was busiest. Of course, their outfits invited every man’s attention even non-gropers would “accidentally” brush against them. 

After a few “friendly” squeezes, the men realized: resistance was nonexistent. The slender-waisted, bigger-assed woman (Mom) actually seemed to encourage touch. Leng Niah, in her fishnet, was a bit shy at first, but soon joined in her massive breasts, bigger than her own head, welcomed groping. 

Hands were everywhere except, by silent agreement, on their actual pussies. Their huge, firm breasts were kneaded into every possible shape; their massive cheeks were grabbed, pinched, nearly peeled off their bones. 

The women moaned sweetly, melodious voices alone enough to drive men wild. 

After only a few stops, we debarked Mom’s sash was in tatters, Leng Niah’s fishnet shredded. Nearly naked, the women exchanged smiles, realized they couldn’t go on this way, and hailed a cab back to Shinjuku. 

“Seems we’re quite popular in Japan…” Having been ordered by Yedun to maintain her dignity, Mom acted regal, even in exposure elegant, proud, gazing down on the world. 

Leng Niah, just as commanding, said, “Japanese men are so… energetic. They tore our clothes right off!” 

“It’s an honor to be touched by Japanese men. Anata will be pleased, I’m sure.” Mom’s words, her near-naked body, and her haughty aura formed a bizarre dissonance. 

“Master would surely want us to satisfy Japanese men with our bodies.” 

“Mm. After just a little while, I miss Anata so much. Let’s clean up and find him.” 

“Or are you missing his… you know?” 

What were they saying? How could they debase themselves so? On the train, why let strangers grope them? Was this real, or just part of some act? 

Wait weren’t those the same guys from the footbridge? 

As Mom and Leng Niah entered the building, I realized those men had been watching us, tailing us in cars. A Yedun surveillance op! So, everything Mom and Leng Niah did and said was for show meant to fool Yedun into thinking Mom had truly surrendered to Japan. 

I suddenly understood: all along, Mom’s Japan trip had been one big act. 

Why hadn’t they told me the full plan? I could have helped! Was I only to guess? 

So, first, to cure Dad. Second, to help Yedun attract investment. Third? Was there a fourth task? What was Leng Niah’s real goal? 

My brain hurt. I just wasn’t smart enough. 

Upstairs, Mom returned to Yedun, Leng Niah vanishing elsewhere. Dad, still on IV, lay unconscious. I texted Ling’er we were back. 

She replied much later, saying that while shopping, the sisters had been accosted by yakuza, nearly dragged off to “make a movie.” Though skilled, in a foreign land, they’d hesitated to fight until out of nowhere, Yedun Jiro appeared, heroically saving them. 

Was she hurt or scared? I asked. 

Ling’er replied: “I’m gonna find a Japanese boyfriend, really satisfy your cuckold kink. And I’ll hook up my sister, too. Isn’t that why we’re here?” 

What?! Xin’er hated that savage, bald Jiro was she actually warming to him? 

I texted my doubts. 

Ling’er wrote back: “You didn’t see how awesome Jiro was his aura, so strong it made me wet. Powerful men conquer proud women even Interpol cops like my sister. Watch for a change of heart.” 

I was speechless. This… could it work? 

But Ling’er wasn’t wrong. Mom and Leng Niah, conquered by Yedun; Xin’er, crushed by the black giant Kaklik; Zhu Hanxiang, claimed by the golden eagle; my childhood sweetheart Mi’er, owned by Yamainu Nagamaru; and even Aunt Ouyang, the iron lady, brought low by Yamainu Daitake. All women I’d cared about, conquered by men whose sheer virility I could never match.