NTR: Choice Based System

The humiliation was a physical blow, each cruel slap on Dan Ya's exposed skin echoing the burning in Ye Yang's gut.

His knuckles were white, his muscles screaming to lash out, to tear apart the smirking man standing over his aunt.

But Dan Ya's pained whisper, her desperate plea for him to flee and keep the secret, held him captive. The weight of protecting her, and the potential repercussions held his fury in check, a volatile pressure building behind his eyes.

The soldiers' laughter clawed at his ears, each jeer a fresh ember tossed onto the fire of his rage.

"Look at him, seems he also want to slap those puffy butt cheeks….HAHAHA!" one soldier roared, slapping his knee.

"Yeah, looks like, he is soon going to plead but not to let her go but to give him a chance so he can enjoy her body!" another shouted, spitting on the ground near where Ye Yang stood frozen.

"Maybe he likes watching!" a third leered, earning more coarse guffaws. "Maybe he's going to just watch as he isn't a man but a weak little rat!"

The taunts grew fouler, painting vile scenarios that made Ye Yang to rip the heads of the soldiers in one go.

They spoke of Dan Ya with sickening possessiveness, reducing her to an object for their pleasure, encouraged by the monster who held her fate in his hands.

On the ground, Dan Ya bit back a sob, her body trembling with pain and shame. Her eyes, however, remained fixed on Ye Yang, wide with desperate warning, pleading with him to endure, to survive this.

Training Head, seemingly knew about the storm gathering in Ye Yang, was fixated on Dan Ya.

His cruel smile tightened as his gaze lingered on her lower body. The continuous slaps and the humiliating pose had caused her skin to glisten, a mixture of sweat and perhaps a more involuntary physical reaction to the pain and terror.

Training Head saw the subtle wetness between her splayed thighs coming from her lower lips.

With a slow, deliberate movement meant for everyone to see, he lowered a finger. His eyes, glinting with pure sadism, never left Ye Yang's face as he slid one finger into the lower lips, between Dan Ya's legs.

"See this is what true sluts are made of," Training Head's voice was dangerously soft, yet amplified by the sudden hush that fell over the soldiers. "Can't you see how wet she is?"

He withdrew his finger, raising it, dripping, for the assembled soldiers to see.

A collective gasp, quickly followed by a wave of guttural sounds, rippled through the onlookers. Their earlier crude laughter had turned into something more base, more primal – the sound of men consumed by lust and cruelty.

"This slut is enjoying this," Training Head announced to the crowd, his voice ringing with false authority, twisting Dan Ya's agony into a perverted display of pleasure.

"SLAP!"

Another brutal slap landed on Dan Ya's reddened buttock, the sound cracking like a whip in the charged air. Dan Ya cried out, a raw sound of pain and humiliation, but she remained silent but her body tensing and arching despite herself.

Ye Yang snapped.

"STOP THIS!" His voice ripped through the air, no longer calm, but a raw, animalistic roar of fury and anguish. "You will regret this! Stop it right now!"

Training Head didn't even flinch. His eyes remained locked on Dan Ya, a look of perverse satisfaction on his face.

He ignored Ye Yang's desperate yell as if it were the buzzing of a fly. His focus was solely on the spectacle he was creating; on the power he wielded over the woman beneath him and the nephew watching.

He brought the hand with the wet finger closer to his face. His eyes, still fixed on Dan Ya (and perhaps subtly, provocatively, back at the drooling soldiers), lowered to his finger.

Slowly, deliberately, he licked the moisture from it, his movements exaggerated, vulgar, designed to inflict maximum psychological torment on Ye Yang and further degrade Dan Ya.

His gaze then lifted, sweeping across the faces of his soldiers. Their eyes were wide, fixated, mouths slightly agape, some openly drooling at the sight of Dan Ya's exposed body and the sickening display.

"Do you want to taste it...?" Training Head's voice was a low, suggestive growl, aimed directly at the soldiers, inviting them into the depravity.

The soldiers, completely enthralled and emboldened by his actions, nodded in a single, sickening unison. A low, hungry murmur went through the crowd, a collective affirmation of their basest desires. They were his pack, whipped into a frenzy, ready to obey.

Training Head grinned, a truly evil expression that promised unspeakable horrors. He glanced back down at Dan Ya, then towards Ye Yang, his eyes conveying a chilling message: this was just the beginning of the payment, the start of a lesson that would break them both.

The air crackled not just with Ye Yang's barely contained rage, but with the palpable anticipation of the depravity about to unfold, a dark cloud settling over the training grounds as the other soldiers took a step closer, their leering faces hungry and expectant.

Ye Yang watched, his body screaming, every fibre of his being in a desperate war between his protective instinct and the crushing weight of his aunt's plea and the cold, hard knowledge of Training Head's power and influence.

The memory of this moment, the taste of this humiliation by them, would forever fuel the fire in his soul, a promise of future vengeance etched in blood and tears.

Ye Yang's roar was the sound of his restraint shattering. He warned them with unleashed rage.

"You will face consequences for this!" he bellowed, his voice raw and shaking, yet carrying a terrible resonance that momentarily silenced the lingering chuckles of the soldiers.

He didn't just threaten Training Head; his burning gaze swept across the faces of the assembled soldiers, meeting their leering eyes with a glare that promised retribution. "With this," he declared, his voice gaining a cold, dangerous edge that was entirely new, "you have made enemies."

"Enemies out of the escort agency that trusted one of their own to your care," he spat, the implication of betrayal sharp. "Enemies out of the Ye clan!"

He paused, his eyes narrowing, the final declaration delivered with a chilling certainty. "And enemies out of a power beyond your own comprehension."

A ripple went through the soldiers. The mention of the escort agency brought a few looks of unease – they had rules, connections. The Ye clan name, though he wasn't a direct heir, carried weight; his family was powerful. And the vague, ominous "power beyond comprehension"... that caused a flicker of genuine seriousness in several hardened faces. For a brief moment, the leering stopped, replaced by cautious, calculating stares.

But then, the sound that had punctuated the humiliation returned.

Training Head threw back his head and roared with laughter, a harsh, derisive sound that shattered the brief moment of apprehension.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

He laughed until tears streamed from his eyes, clutching his sides as if Ye Yang had just told the funniest joke in the world.

His personal soldiers, seeing their leader's reaction, quickly followed suit, their fear evaporating, replaced once more by mocking cruelty. The training ground erupted in a fresh wave of taunts and jeers, louder and more vicious than before.