"Too fast... slow down... slow down."
Bibi Dong initially spat threats, demanding Ah Yin stop.
But as Ah Yin's fingers moved with increasing speed and intensity, she sank deeper into helpless ecstasy until her defiance crumbled into pleas.
Ah Yin smirked, feigning ignorance. "Your Holiness, what did you say? Speak louder. What's too fast? What should slow down?"
Bibi Dong's body, still partially restrained by his power, could now move slightly. She instinctively arched forward, hips rising, chest heaving—a wordless plea. As her hips lifted higher, she tried to pull away, her body screaming slow down.
Yet Ah Yin pressed on, voice dripping with dark amusement. "If you won't say it clearly, how should I know? Should I intensify the rhythm? You know what happens then... You'll be pushed to your absolute limit."
"I... I..." Bibi Dong choked on shame. Begging her rapist—the man who'd defiled her—was unthinkable for the Pope of the Spirit Hall.
But his relentless fingers drove her toward ruin.
No—I can't beg! Endure this, Bibi Dong! You are the Pope. He violated you! No matter how much pleasure he forces on you, never surrender!
Her mind raged, commanding silence. But then—
Her eyes snapped wide. Before her, a scene burned into her soul:
This was a dream, yet every sensation tore through her real body. As Ah Yin's electric fingers ravaged her tender core, waves of unbearable ecstasy mounted.
Her physical body, asleep in bed, began to writhe. Low moans escaped her lips. Subconsciously, she tore off her nightgown. Her own hands roamed, seeking release from the torment Ah Yin inflicted.
Bibi Dong watched her real self pleasure herself—a twisted duality that shattered her focus.
In that instant of distraction, her body convulsed violently.
A flood of release surged from her depths.
She trembled, gasping, until the storm passed.
Back in the dream, Bibi Dong seized her momentary freedom. Whirling around, she slapped Ah Yin with all her strength—
But he'd only loosened her restraints for his own game. Powerless, she was no match.
Slap!
Ah Yin caught her wrist, grinning. "Eager for the next round? Or have you grown fond of my spear?"
"Die!" she snarled.
Even pinned, fury drove her. She lashed out with her other hand—
Slap!
He caught it effortlessly.
Unbroken, Bibi Dong—Supreme Pope, apex warrior of Douluo Continent—pivoted. Her leg snapped up, bare foot aimed like a blade at his throbbing erection.
Ah Yin's eyes flashed. Ruthless.
He twisted aside, evading the strike. "Trying to cripple your source of pleasure, Your Holiness? What would you use then?" He yanked her against him.
She felt it—the heat of his spear pressing at her entrance, ready to invade just like in Star Dou Forest, to pierce her until she shattered.
"Mmm... already so wet," he purred, fingers tracing her slick folds. "Your body betrays you."
"Ah—!"
A single touch ripped a moan from her. Overwhelmed, hypersensitive, she quivered.
"Time for round two," Ah Yin growled. "Deeper than Star Dou Forest."
"Don't—!"
Bibi Dong trembled as the crimson tip pressed against her entrance. Memories flooded her—
Then he slammed forward.
"Ngh—!" Pain tore through her. He gave no mercy, driving into her weakness with brutal force.
But agony melted into molten pleasure.
She hated it. Hated him.
Yet his skill was undeniable—every thrust coiled pleasure tighter.
"Such a liar," Ah Yin mocked, pistoning harder. "Moaning like a whore when you begged me to stop."
His hips snapped, unleashing the Electric Light Poison Dragon Drill.