The Harem of A Rustic Veterinarian
Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Chapter 17

Wang Damei was struck as if by lightning, instantly freezing up.

But the next moment, panic set in and she began to struggle wildly, twisting her hips and kicking her legs, refusing to let Wu Song fuck her.

No matter how she struggled though, Wu Song held her down by the lower back with one hand—she was like a mermaid, writhing in vain, with no way to break free.

"Wu Song, you, what the fuck are you doing? This is rape, do you know that?" Wang Damei reminded Wu Song anxiously.

Wu Song was already burning up with lust, and couldn’t give half a damn about whether it was rape or not—he just wanted to put Wang Damei, the arrogant village party secretary’s wife, in her place.

"So what? Today I’m gonna fuck you till you beg for mercy! Let’s see if you dare act tough with me again!" Wu Song said, thrusting the head of his "rolling pin" up, rubbing it against Wang Damei’s cunt.

Wang Damei was scared out of her wits, clamping her ass tight and squeezing her pussy, trying desperately not to let Wu Song have his way.

"Wu Song, you’re going to regret this! I, I’ll report you! You’ll go to jail!" Wang Damei threatened in panic.

But her body was already getting wet from Wu Song’s grinding, sweet juices starting to seep from her slit.

Wu Song sneered, sinking a finger in with a wet squelch. When he pulled it out, it was covered in her slick.

He waved his finger in front of her face and mocked, "Wang Damei, what are you pretending to be so pure for? Aren’t you leaking like a bitch in heat?"

Wang Damei wished she could die of shame and rage, her face burning red. "Wu Song, you bastard, let me go! If you don’t, you’ll fucking regret it!"

"Oh yeah? I’ll make sure you won’t be able to walk straight, let alone eat!" Wu Song shot back, and without another word, rammed his cock straight into Wang Damei’s pussy.

"Ah..."

Wang Damei screamed in pain.

She felt like she’d been stabbed through, like her ass was splitting open.

The pain and discomfort were beyond words.

She clenched her ass and legs tight, her upper body tense and arching up.

Trying to ease the pain below.

But that red-hot iron rod just kept shoving into her, stabbing straight to her deepest spot.

It felt like he was skewering her whole body.

Her very soul was trembling.

"You... you’re dead, Wu Song! I’m gonna kill you! I swear I’ll chop you to pieces, quarter your fucking corpse!" Wang Damei shuddered in pain, cursing Wu Song through gritted teeth.

Wu Song was shuddering too—but from sheer pleasure.

Wang Damei’s pussy was so damn tight.

Honestly, it wasn’t losing out even to Wu Xiaohong, that little virgin girl.

He wondered if Aunt Taoxiang’s would be even tighter.

Too bad, he almost got in that one time.

If he had, he’d have known exactly how snug she was.

Could’ve measured it up versus Wang Damei.

But for now, he could only admit—Wang Damei was really fucking tight.

"Wang Damei, who’d have thought? Your daughter’s graduated college, and you’re still this tight. And your pussy’s so pink and fresh too. Wu Dalin’s a useless fuck, never even fucked you black down there!" Wu Song taunted as he started pounding her with absolutely no mercy.

Each thrust was hard and deep, slamming all the way in.

He drove into Wang Damei’s core, making her whole body tremble and rock up and down.

Wang Damei was mortified and furious beyond belief.

She wanted to curse Wu Song out, rip him apart.

But she couldn’t even open her mouth.

Every time she tried, Wu Song would slam into her again, the force almost making her lose consciousness.

The humiliation and fury were driving her insane.

She could do nothing but grit her teeth and cling on in agony.

She bit down relentlessly on the bedsheet,

refusing to let herself scream, or beg, or curse aloud.

She knew—the more she reacted, the more savage and excited Wu Song would get.

If she showed nothing, he wouldn’t get that thrill of conquest.

But Wu Song didn’t give a damn about that.

He was having the time of his life.

Wang Damei’s pussy was literally gushing now, flooding around his dick, and the way her soft tight walls clamped him—words couldn’t describe the pleasure. He just wanted to fuck her hard, and keep going and going.

Especially because she was Wu Dalin’s wife.

The sense of power, of domination, was off the charts.

And beneath, Wang Damei was starting to notice something weird too.

The burning, stinging, swollen pain was fading away.

Instead, something strange was taking its place, a weirdly exquisite sensation she couldn’t put into words.

She knew exactly what was happening—she’d been there before.

And she panicked.

She didn’t want her body to react that way.

If she lost control and started moaning, she’d totally lose face.

Wu Song’d have her right where he wanted, basking in triumph.

But the pleasure just kept building, wave after wave, swelling stronger each time Wu Song rammed deep. She was almost swept away in the ecstasy.

She couldn’t hold it anymore—a soft moan slipped out.

It jerked her back to herself, and she instinctively slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle it.

But a little noise still escaped her nose.

Wu Song laughed out loud, "Wang Damei, don’t hold yourself back! Just moan if it feels good!"

Wang Damei slammed the bed in anger, glared back at Wu Song, grinding her teeth. "Just wait, you bastard! This isn’t over!"

"You’re fucking right it’s not! I’ll come fuck you whenever I feel like it!" Wu Song shot back without hesitation.

"So, tell me, who makes you feel better—me or Wu Dalin? You ever felt this good since you got married?"

"Don’t you feel like all those years were wasted?"

Wu Song’s questions left Wang Damei speechless, but deep down... she had to admit, he was right.

Wu Dalin’s little carrot couldn’t last a minute—how was she supposed to get off with that?

It was only the first couple years after getting married that she ever let Wu Dalin touch her.

After giving birth to their daughter, Wu Yuling, Wu Dalin couldn’t so much as lay a finger on her.

Fucking useless. Besides grossing her out, what could he do?

But Wang Damei would never tell Wu Song that, never admit it.

She just clenched her teeth and bore it.

But in these matters, you can talk tough all you want—your body will tell the truth.

Wu Song’s raw power and his "rolling pin" soon had her mind going blank, her whole body limp. She couldn’t clench her ass anymore, couldn’t even lift her legs, couldn’t hold the bedsheet.

Not a chance she could cover her mouth anymore.

Even as she moaned uncontrollably through her mouth and nose, the sounds just got louder.

When Wang Damei realized this, she wanted to die of shame, but she was too weak to do anything about it.

She just closed her eyes and pretended to be dead, ignoring everything.

But Wu Song gave a cold laugh, pulled out his phone, and started recording everything.

Wang Damei snapped awake, jolted with fright, and tried to fight back.

But she was too exhausted to resist—she could barely lift a hand or twist her body. She could only curse Wu Song weakly: "You bastard, what the fuck are you doing? Stop recording!"

Wu Song grinned wickedly, "Dear Madam Secretary, isn’t this the kind of unforgettable experience you’d want to have on record?"

Wang Damei was so furious she nearly burst into tears, cursing, "You really are a pervert! And you said Wu Dalin’s video wasn’t you spying."

"That video? That wasn’t me, that was Wu Dalin filming himself. How the fuck’s it got anything to do with me?" Wu Song said, continuing to film Wang Damei.

"But this one, this one’s definitely mine. I’ll send you a copy as a souvenir—make sure to keep it safe, don’t let Wu Dalin see."

"Wu Song, you bastard, delete it!" Wang Damei said weakly.

"Delete? No way... Or maybe I’ll just share it in our village group chat?"

"Let everyone check it out, see who’s better in bed—me or Wu Dalin?"