Ren didn't rush. He gazed down at Rita, still in the dogeza position—naked, trembling, her buttocks raised in a posture of total surrender.
His cold eyes swept over every curve of her body, savoring the despair radiating from her.
"Anyone can make grand declarations. Prove your words aren't just impulsive, blinded by fleeting sexual desire."
Without warning, Ren lifted his foot—still clad in a simple casual sandal—and firmly pressed it down on top of Rita's head, pushing her neck until her forehead was completely flattened against the cold wooden floor.
Seeing this beautiful blonde girl—someone who, in normal life, would have countless suitors vying for her attention—now prostrated so low, her head being stepped on just to avoid being discarded, stirred the dormant sadistic side within Ren.
Normally, he restrained himself to maintain his image. To the women in his harem, he treated them with kindness and care. But that hypocrisy had vanished the moment he acquired his first sex slave—Uesugi Yotsuba, an ordinary housewife.
Yotsuba had been the first to experience his uncontrollable dark side. And now, it seemed, Rita would be the second.
"Ahhh~"
Surprisingly, instead of feeling shame or anger, Rita's body reacted in the opposite way. A long, hoarse, pleasure-filled moan escaped her lips. From between her spread thighs, a clear liquid shot out in a forceful stream, splashing onto the wooden floor beneath her like a small, shameful fountain.
(Ahhh... I'm such a pathetic woman... So this is how depraved I am... It's so humiliating… but… so good...!)
Her thoughts swirled in a storm of shame and euphoria. She could imagine the expression on her face right now—surely the shameful look of orgasm: teary eyes, flushed cheeks, mouth wide open in silent, breathless moans.
Struggling to steady her ragged breathing, Rita spoke, her voice trembling yet filled with newfound determination born from this humiliation.
"Th-thank you… for… this punishment… M-master… Your foot… upon my unworthy head… is an… honor I do not… deserve…"
With trembling hands, she reached for the ankle of Ren's foot pressing down on her head. She made no attempt to push it away—instead, she gently held it in place.
"Allow this filthy one… to cleanse… your foot…"
She bowed her head even deeper, as far as she could with Ren's foot still pressing her down, and pushed her face forward to kiss the top of his foot. Her lips touched his skin with solemn reverence.
Then, in slow, devoted motions, Rita extended her tongue. She began licking Ren's toes one by one, from base to tip, with languid, sensual strokes, as if they were the most precious objects in the world. Each toe was meticulously licked, her saliva glistening on his skin.
She continued, sucking gently on his big toe before moving to the next. The fluid from her own body still dripped steadily, staining the floor and her thighs.
"Please… don't… discard me… Use me… as your footrest… as your outlet… as anything… anything you desire…"
Watching this scene—the beautiful girl completely naked and humiliated, obediently and even passionately licking his foot—a thin, satisfied smile finally spread across Ren's lips.
This was not mere obedience. This was worship. This was the total surrender he had been seeking!
Rita had proven that her need for him was not just physical—it had become existential. Ren had succeeded in breaking her down and rebuilding her anew.
"Enough."
His voice remained cold, yet carried a hint of satisfaction.
Rita immediately sat back, face flushed, breathing heavily, eyes teary but sparkling. She looked up at him, filled with hope and fear.
"You have proven your resolve. I will accept you. But remember—this is the path you chose. There is no turning back."
Rita could only nod rapidly, tears of happiness—or perhaps relief—beginning to stream down her cheeks.
"Thank you, Master! Thank you!"
With a firm but not overly rough tug, Ren guided her—more accurately, led her—to stand.
"Master…?"
Rita trembled—not from the cool mountain air brushing against her bare skin, but from anticipation and fear of what was to come.
"…"
Ren didn't answer. He looked ahead at the spectacular view before them: vast green valleys, sunlit mountain peaks, and a cloudless blue sky.
It was a scene that would inspire gratitude and peace in any ordinary observer. To Ren, it was merely a backdrop.
With one hand on Rita's waist, he positioned her to face away from him, toward the natural beauty. Her trembling body now framed the landscape like a living canvas.
"Lean forward." Ren commanded, his voice low in her ear.
Rita obeyed. Her trembling hands gripped the wooden balcony railing as she bent her body into a perfect arch. Her buttocks, still wet with her own fluids, lifted high—an unspoken offering.
Ren wasted no time. With a simple motion, he discarded his clothes. Then, with a hard, unrelenting thrust and no further preamble, he entered Rita from behind.
"AAAAHHHHKKK—!"
Rita's scream—mixing shock, pain, and deep satisfaction—echoed through the mountain silence. Her fingers clutched the balcony railing until they turned white, her body convulsing violently under the intensity of the first penetration.
*PA!* *PA!* *PA!* *PA!* *PA!*
Ren didn't care about her comfort. He gripped her waist tightly, controlling every movement, driving his hips forward in a cruel, merciless rhythm. Each thrust was a claim of ownership; each withdrawal, a reminder of her dependence.
"Look at the view." Ren whispered in her ear, his breath not even disturbed by the physical exertion. "That world will never belong to you again. You belong to me now. This—only this—is all you need."
"Mm…"
With tears streaming down her cheeks, Rita forced her eyes open. She saw the beautiful expanse of green and blue, but it all felt blurred, distant, meaningless. All she could feel was every inch of Ren filling and tearing into her.
Her old world—norms, pride, dreams—shattered with every movement of Ren. All that remained was a primal, burning need, a desire that could only be quenched by the man behind her.
*PA!* *PA!* *PA!* *PA!* *PA!*
"Master… Master…!"
Rita could no longer form coherent words. Her voice rose and fell with Ren's rhythm, dissolving into uncontrollable moans and cries.
She no longer cared if any villa staff might be watching from below. She no longer cared about shame. The need to be satisfied, to be completely owned, had surpassed all social instincts.
Every thrust from Ren seemed to touch not just her body, but her very soul, reshaping every cell into something new—something devoted solely to him.
"Ahhhhhh~"
After what felt like an eternity, with Rita's final hoarse cry and Ren's satisfied exhale, it was over.
Rita lay limp on the balcony floor, drenched in sweat and trembling, gasping for breath. But in her teary eyes, there flickered a spark of acceptance—even insane happiness.
Ren stood beside her, calmly adjusting his clothes as if he had just finished a routine task. He looked down at the exhausted, satisfied woman.
Then, without a word, Ren turned and walked back into the villa, leaving Rita alone on the balcony with the beautiful view and her new reality.
The old Rita Ainsworth was gone. In her place remained a nymphomaniac woman, utterly dependent on Ren for satisfaction—and even for a reason to live.
Her transformation was complete.