Tokyo, Minato Ward. Genesis Mansion.
Second-floor master bedroom.
Heavy wooden doors slid apart, revealing the opulent space beyond.
A massive custom bed dominated the center of the room.
Seiji Fujiwara sat on its edge, completely naked. Under the dim glow of the standing lamp, the sculpted lines of his muscles gleamed with a cold sheen. He held a glass of red wine, his gaze like a lion waiting for its prey.
Four naked girls stood in the doorway, huddled together.
They'd already been stripped downstairs, but facing this man now, the old fear still made them tremble.
"What are you waiting for?" Seiji smiled. "Come in."
Two simple words, like a spell.
Sakiko gritted her teeth and stepped forward first. She was the leader. She had to set the example. Uika followed, then Tomori, and finally Soyo, face twisted with fury.
Four pale bodies walked into the den.
Click.
The door locked behind them, sealing off any retreat.
Seiji didn't rush. His gaze swept over the four of them like a searchlight.
"Since we're a band, someone has to open the show." His eyes settled on Tomori at the back. "Tomori. Come here."
Soyo and Sakiko flinched.
"Don't... Seiji..." Sakiko started to plead.
"Shut up." He didn't look at her, beckoning Tomori instead. "Come to me."
Tomori raised her head. Those eyes that were usually so timid now burned with a strange light, like a moth that had found its flame.
"...Yes."
She answered softly, stepped around Sakiko, and trotted over like an obedient child.
Then, in full view of everyone, she did something that made them all stop breathing.
She knelt between Seiji's legs, wrapped her arms around his waist, and nuzzled her cheek against his abs with a contented sigh. "I missed you... Master."
Soyo's mind went blank.
This is Tomori!
The girl who could barely string a sentence together. How could she be so practiced? So... shameless?
"Good girl." Seiji stroked Tomori's short hair. "Tell everyone what you want right now."
Tomori looked up, cheeks flushed, eyes unfocused. "I want to feel strange... I want Master to fill me up... Then the voices in my head go away..."
That innocent tone paired with filthy words obliterated every rational thought in the room.
"Okay."
Seiji scooped Tomori up and sat her on his lap, straddling him. No foreplay needed. This body had long been trained to ripeness.
Tomori clung to him like a koala.
The wet slap of flesh echoed through the room, each impact landing like a slap across the other three girls' faces.
Soyo covered her mouth and wept. Uika turned away. Only Sakiko stared, nails digging into her palms until they bled.
She could see Tomori's expression clearly. It wasn't pain. It was twisted happiness.
"Enjoying the show?"
Seiji kept moving, glancing at Sakiko on her knees. "As the former leader, aren't you going to help your vocalist?"
Sakiko blinked. "Help...?"
"Tomori's stamina is terrible." Seiji thrust hard, sending Tomori into spasms. "Hold her from behind. And..."
His expression turned cruel. "Use your mouth. Comfort our little vocalist. Make her feel even better."
"What?!" Sakiko stared in disbelief. He wanted her to kiss Tomori while she was being taken?
But watching Tomori, half-delirious and moaning with pleasure, Sakiko knew there was no choice.
She couldn't defy Seiji Fujiwara.
"...Understood."
She crawled over, trembling, and wrapped her arms around Tomori from behind. Two naked bodies pressed together.
"Kiss her." Seiji commanded.
Sakiko closed her eyes, tilted her head, and pressed her lips to Tomori's earlobe.
"Mm... Sakiko-chan..." Tomori instinctively leaned back, nuzzling into Sakiko's embrace.
In that moment, Sakiko's mental defenses crumbled. She kissed Tomori's neck, her shoulders, crying as she did it.
She was doing something terrible. Pushing Tomori deeper into the abyss.
But... watching Tomori scream and convulse in her arms, why did she feel an indescribable thrill rising inside her?
The complicit rush of shared sin.
I'm dirty now too.
Sakiko thought it with despair, but her hands only grew rougher, actively matching Seiji's rhythm as she kneaded Tomori's body.
The sight was too much. For Soyo and Uika watching from the sidelines, it was a nuclear-level shock.
Especially Soyo.
Her expression contorted, dark thoughts twisting through her mind.
That position... that place of being loved... it was supposed to be hers!
Why did Tomori get to look so happy? Why did Tomori get to be held by Sakiko?
Jealousy warped everything.
"I want it too..."
Soyo spoke, her voice hoarse with need. She stopped waiting for orders and strode forward, pride abandoned entirely.
"Master... look at me... I want it too... I can make you feel good too..."
"Soyo?!" Uika was stunned.
The elegant, composed Soyo now looked utterly debased.
"Heh."
Seiji looked down at Soyo and smiled with satisfaction. "Now that's the band I wanted to see."
He turned to Uika. "Uika, what about you? Planning to slack off?"
Uika took in the scene: Tomori on top, Sakiko behind her, Soyo below. Everyone had a "place" except her. She was the outsider.
The fear of exclusion, combined with the hollow ache inside, made her sigh quietly.
Can dignity fill an empty stomach? If she didn't join, she'd be the odd one out.
"I... I want it too..."
Uika lowered her head and crawled over. "Please... Master... use me..."
Full attendance. Four bodies orbiting one man.
This was the new band.
"Good."
Seiji felt a conquest high unlike anything before.
It didn't take long.
Tomori went limp, convulsing, eyes rolling back, drool spilling from her lips.
But this was only the beginning. Seiji tossed Tomori to Sakiko, grabbed Soyo by the ankle, and pinned her to the bed.
"Since you wanted it so badly, I'll give you everything."
"Ahh!!" Soyo screamed, voluntarily spreading her legs and locking them around his waist. "Give it to me! All of it! Break me too!!"
The room descended into total chaos. A bacchanal with no limits.
Sakiko cradled the unconscious Tomori, cleaning her up, but her gaze drifted to Soyo being ravaged, her own eyes going glassy as her hand slipped between her own thighs. Uika knelt nearby, servicing with her mouth, flinching whenever Soyo's flailing arms struck her.
No one spoke. Only the raw sounds of bodies remained.
Identity shattered and reformed in this room.
In this sealed space, they shared one man, shared one fallen secret.
...
Eventually, the storm passed.
The massive bed was a wreck. Sheets torn, fluids everywhere.
Seiji Fujiwara lay in the center, smoking.
Four bodies sprawled around him in every direction.
Tomori was curled in his arms, dead asleep, still clutching one of his fingers. Soyo lay draped across his chest, tear tracks on her face but a satisfied, dopey grin. Uika rested her head on his thigh, hair a tangled mess. Sakiko was curled at the foot of the bed, the tension finally gone from her back.
Deathly quiet. Yet an eerie kind of "harmony" permeated the air.
Seiji blew a smoke ring. This was exactly what he'd wanted.
Crush their pride. Break their spines. Then toss them a little sweetness so they'd never leave.
From now on, a single look from him would be enough. These four girls would tear each other apart fighting for his affection.
He switched off the lamp.
In the darkness, the breathing of four girls fell into unsettling sync.
Good night.
He said it cheerfully, in his mind.
For them, tomorrow might bring nothing but an endless night.
...
...
Tokyo, Minato Ward. Genesis Mansion.
Monday morning.
Sunlight sliced through the curtains. The air still carried the decadent residue of last night's revelry.
On the massive bed, Seiji Fujiwara opened his eyes.
Sakiko was on his left, curled up like a cat. Soyo was on his right, limbs tangled around him, drooling. Uika lay at the foot of the bed, golden hair in disarray. Tomori was buried under the covers with only a tuft of grey poking out.
Seiji shifted, and all four girls woke almost simultaneously.
Before, a scene like this would have made them scream. But now...
"Good morning, Master."
Soyo reacted first, pressing herself against him shamelessly and planting a kiss on his cheek. "Let me draw your bath."
"No way!" Uika was awake now, grabbing Soyo's arm. "You were the last one he did yesterday. It's my turn to serve him today!"
"Ha? You're an idol. Manual labor doesn't suit you." Soyo sneered. "Besides, your technique is awful. All you know how to do is use your mouth."
"That's not true! Master praised me yesterday!" Uika's face burned red.
"Enough."
Sakiko sat up, rubbing her temples, voice hoarse but commanding. "According to the schedule, this morning belongs to Tomori."
She pulled back the covers and dug Tomori out. "Tomori, go help Master brush his teeth."
Tomori rubbed her eyes blearily, then saw Seiji and snapped awake. "Master... I want a good-morning kiss."
Seiji laughed, pinched her chin, and kissed her deeply until she was gasping for air.
"Good work. Now go get my clothes."
"Yes~" Tomori hopped off the bed and bounced toward the walk-in closet.
Seiji felt complete satisfaction. No shame, no resistance. Only competition for his favor and total obedience. Here, morality had been ground to dust, replaced by a new order with him at its center.
While they busied themselves, Seiji opened the system.
[Ding! Congratulations, Host. Conquest target: Uika Misumi.]
[Received Reward: Significant influence over multiple luxury brands under the LVMH Group across Asia.]
Seiji raised an eyebrow.
Not bad at all. This could keep Uika tethered, and bait something even bigger.
Certain actresses, perhaps?
...
Ten minutes later. Bathroom.
Five people crammed into the enormous bathtub. Another absurd communal bath. Soyo scrubbed his back, Uika massaged his legs, Tomori played with bubbles, Sakiko poured water.
"From now on, Sunday nights are mandatory full-team gatherings. A standing appointment." Seiji lay back with his eyes closed. "On regular days... Sakiko, you handle the schedule."
Sakiko nodded calmly. "Understood."
Soyo immediately raised her hand. "I want Tuesdays and Thursdays alone with Master!"
Uika panicked. "I want solo time too! Wednesday works for me!"
"Tomori... is available anytime." Tomori said quietly.
Seiji watched these girls scrambling to outbid each other and grinned. "Relax. There's enough of me to go around."
...
Tokyo. The Wakaba residence.
The air here was cold as a freezer.
Comedian Takafumi Wakaba and actress Minami Mori sat across from each other at a long table. A divorce agreement lay between them.
"Just sign it." Takafumi smoked. "We've settled the asset split."
Minami wore a silk loungewear set. The years had granted her the ripe allure of a mature peach. She signed her name with indifference.
...
11:00 PM. Minami Mori's upscale apartment.
The first night after the divorce, and Minami couldn't sleep.
Not from heartbreak. From emptiness.
This mature, voluptuous body was like parched earth, craving rain.
She picked up a business magazine. Seiji Fujiwara on the cover. Those hawk-sharp eyes, that aura of raw aggression, instantly ignited the desire she'd suppressed for years.
Tyrant...
The word burned through her like fire.
She was sick of weak men. She wanted to be conquered. To be handled roughly.
"Mm..."
Minami's hand slipped past the neckline of her nightgown, eyes fixed on the photo as a sweet moan escaped her lips.
A high-pitched tremor, and she arched off the bed before collapsing. The magazine fell to the floor, landing open to Seiji Fujiwara's page. A few glistening drops stained the glossy paper.
Shame flooded in.
"Minami Mori, you're regressing." She muttered to herself and went to shower.
Warm water cascaded over her body. Thirty-eight years old, yet she could still pass for a college student. Beautiful, firm, perfectly proportioned.
More than that, she possessed something young women didn't: an intoxicating maturity.
She had every right to be proud. Countless men in the industry had tried to get her into bed. She'd rejected them all.
Because none of them were worth her time.
Hmph. A bunch of fat, balding pigs think they can get on top of me?
She dried off and walked out of the bathroom, but when she bent down to retrieve the magazine, Seiji Fujiwara's eyes hit her again.
That raw masculine energy shattered her defenses a second time.
Her body flushed hot. The emptiness surged back.
"...Tch."
The towel slipped. Minami fell back onto the bed, legs spreading restlessly.
"One more time... nobody has to know..."
The proud award-winning actress lost to instinct once again.
...
The Wakaba residence. Mutsumi's bedroom.
Mutsumi Wakaba sat at her desk, guitar in hand. The sounds of her father moving out drifted up from downstairs.
The door opened. Minami walked in carrying a glass of milk, looking oddly cheerful.
"Stop practicing. Focus on your acting career." Her tone left no room for argument. "Tomorrow, go visit Sakiko's company."
"Sakiko?"
"She's been doing well lately. Even got her business back. I want you to observe how she managed it." Minami's eyes narrowed. "Especially her relationship with Seiji Fujiwara."
Mutsumi understood.
Her mother wanted to board the Genesis ship.
"Got it."
After Minami left, Mutsumi gazed out the window.
What she actually cared about was Sakiko herself. The Sakiko in the news smiled too perfectly. So perfectly it looked like a doll's mask.
Sakiko, what have you been through?
Is that man really just a business partner?
Mutsumi decided to go see for herself.
To use her own eyes and peer behind that flawless smile.
Even if her instincts told her the truth might be darker than hell.
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