The string of conquests had elevated Wang Biao's existence to a realm of unchecked dominance and insatiable hunger. Mo Huamei's high-society elegance, shattered into lewd submission on the banquet table with her scholarly husband funding the aftermath; Lin Lin's mature, milky body milked and ravaged in the ballroom, her tycoon groom reduced to a financial puppet—these victories fueled his escalating power.
His hypnotic rhymes now extended beyond wedding venues, seeping into spaces tied to matrimonial bliss, like honeymoons, where the lingering energy of vows and unions amplified his commands. The post-wedding glow, the romantic seclusion—it was all an extension of the ceremony's aura, making his influence just as potent.
His slaves multiplied: Li Meng's petite innocence, broken nightly in his apartment; Maria's voluptuous foreign curves, shipped to him for secret sessions; Chen Yiran's elegant poise, now a backstage whore begging for rough face-fucks. Funds poured in from humiliated grooms, affording him luxuries like tracking apps and private investigators to monitor his "interests."
One such interest: a couple from his latest gig. The groom, a mid-level executive named Sun Hao, had married the stunning beach-loving bride, Tang Wei—a 27-year-old with sun-kissed wavy hair, sparkling green eyes, and an athletic body honed from surfing. Her tanned skin bore faint bikini lines, full breasts and hips screaming for violation. Wang Biao had eyed her during the ceremony but held back—saving her for something special.
Now, intel showed they were honeymooning at a secluded beach resort in Hainan—private villa, sunset walks, romantic isolation. Perfect for a heist.
Wang Biao booked a flight, arriving incognito. He rented a nearby bungalow, binoculars ready. That evening, as the sun dipped toward the horizon, he spotted them: Sun Hao in shorts, Tang Wei in a flowing sarong over a bikini, wavy hair blowing in the sea breeze. They strolled hand-in-hand along the private beach, waves lapping at their feet.
He followed at a distance, heart pounding with anticipation.
As the sky turned orange, they paused at a secluded cove—palm trees swaying, no one around.
Wang Biao emerged from the shadows, voice low and rhythmic.
"A honeymoon walk, so romantic and sweet,
but bride, tonight, feel the heat.
Forget your groom, come to me now—
let the emcee show you how."
Tang Wei's green eyes glazed mid-laugh. She released Sun Hao's hand—who froze, confused—and turned to Wang Biao, body swaying toward him with hypnotic pull.
Sun Hao blinked. "Who... who are you?"
Wang Biao ignored him, focusing on Tang Wei.
"Sarong off, bikini too,
bare your body, fresh and new."
Her hands moved—untying the sarong, letting it flutter to the sand. Bikini top unclasped, full breasts spilling free—tanned, perky, nipples hardening in the cooling breeze. Bottoms slid down athletic legs, revealing a smooth, tanned mound with a faint landing strip of dark hair, already glistening from sudden arousal.
Naked under the sunset, she stood trembling, green eyes locked on him with desperate need.
Sun Hao sputtered, "Wei! What the—"
Wang Biao whispered a rhyme to him: "Watch silently, feel the shame,
your wife's mine now, in this game."
Sun Hao's mouth shut, body rooted, eyes wide with humiliated horror.
Wang Biao approached Tang Wei, fingers tracing her bikini lines.
"On your back, in the sand,
spread wide for my command."
She lay down, legs parting—pussy exposed, pink folds wet and inviting under the golden light.
He knelt between her thighs, inhaling her salty, aroused scent—ocean mixed with feminine musk.
His tongue traced her inner thighs, teasing.
She whimpered, "Please... touch me... I need it..."
He licked her slit slowly—flat tongue dragging from entrance to clit.
"Ahhh... yes... lick your honeymoon slut..."
He sucked her clit hard, teeth grazing.
She bucked, hands in his hair.
"Harder... bite it... make me scream..."
He added fingers—two plunging deep, curling to hit her spot while tongue lashed.
Her athletic body writhed, waves crashing nearby.
"Finger-fuck me... stretch this married pussy..."
She came—body tensing, squirting onto his chin.
He stood, stripping—cock springing free, thick and veined.
"Straddle me, ride my cock,
fuck yourself till you drop."
She mounted him in the sand—lowering onto his length slowly, gasping as he stretched her.
"So big... filling me... better than him..."
She rode hard—hips grinding, full breasts bouncing in his face.
He sucked a nipple, biting.
"Yes... bite them... mark your whore..."
He slapped her ass—hard, rhythmic.
"Count, slut."
"One... ah! Two... spank your beach bitch..."
By fifteen, her ass glowed red; she came again, pussy clenching.
He flipped her onto all fours—waves lapping at her knees.
From behind, he slammed in—deep, brutal.
Her screams mixed with ocean roar.
"Ram me... like an animal... own this cunt..."
He pulled her hair, arching her back.
"Choke yourself... with your hand."
She obeyed—one hand on throat, squeezing as he pounded.
"Tighter... make me dizzy... fuck me senseless..."
He reached under, fingers in her ass—three now, stretching wide.
"Prepare that hole... you're taking it next."
She nodded frantically.
"Yes... finger my ass raw... get me ready..."
Four fingers—scissoring, opening her.
Lust peaked; she squirted down her legs.
He pulled out, aimed at her ass—pushing in slow, then thrusting hard.
She howled, pushing back.
"Ruin my ass... cum inside... breed every hole..."
He choked her from behind—hand on throat, squeezing.
"Harder... strangle your slut... make me see stars..."
He slapped her clit repeatedly.
She came violently—body seizing, anal orgasm ripping through.
He followed—flooding her ass with hot cum.
Pulled out, shoved in her mouth.
"Taste your ass... clean it all."
She sucked greedily.
"Mmm... so nasty... I love my ass on your cock..."
He came down her throat—load swallowed hungrily.
Then pussy again—missionary in shallows, waves crashing over them.
"Water fuck... drown me in pleasure..."
Varied thrusts—slow grinds, then jackhammer.
She came thrice more—squirting into ocean.
Final load in her womb.
By end, Tang Wei wrecked—body marked, leaking, begging eternal service.
Sun Hao watched silently, broken.
Wang Biao whispered rhyme: "Forget me, but send funds monthly."
They left; he claimed her that night in bungalow—extreme: belt around neck, fingers fisting her pussy while ass-fucked, dialogue raw.
"Pull tighter... choke your honeymoon thief..."
"Fist me deeper... stretch this slut wide..."
Came seven times—every hole, her skin painted.
By dawn, she was his slave.
Power boundless.
More horizons awaited.