Mao Yuhan reclined on his throne, one hand on the head of a beautiful young woman who sat on her haunches near his crotch. He gripped her hair tightly and forced her to move back and forth.
“Come on. Are you even trying now? Stop dicking around and suck harder,” he commended. The woman released a muffled cry but did as she was told. “Hmph. That’s a bit better. Guess I’ll keep you for a little while longer.”
While one beautiful young woman pleased him, another sat on the arm of his chair. He had his other hand wrapped around her and would occasionally grope her chest. The woman said nothing. She knew what the consequences would be if she spoke out against him.
The throne room was empty save him and the young women. He preferred sitting here over staying in his room. He felt like a king.
