Emperor Xian Long reclined in his bronze tub, the scent of rare Eastern herbs curling around him like incense. "Long’er, more boiling water—now," he commanded, his voice dripping with the absolute deference he expected. "And tell those sniveling ministers their complaints about grain mean nothing. I had the Minister of Rites beaten for daring to speak of peasant hunger. What do farmers matter to the Son of Heaven?"
Long’er approached with a sly grin, dropping his cloth as the lesser eunuchs seized the emperor’s arms and legs. "Your Majesty boasts well," Long’er said, voice sharp and witty, "but even the Son of Heaven can be wrapped in crimson tribute carpet when the people decide otherwise." Xian Long raged, "Unhand me! I am divine!" yet they bound him tight.
They carried him to the eunuch chamber where Grand Eunuch Zhao waited. "Ancient law demands the dragon’s seed spill fully before the blade," Zhao intoned. Xian Long’s body betrayed him, his cock hardening amid the terror and humiliation. "You think this amuses me?" he spat. Zhao chuckled, "Your cock says otherwise, Majesty. Kneel and stroke—show us how the mighty fall."
Pinned and panting, Xian Long gripped his hard cock, sweating under their gaze. "This is your revolution? Forcing a man to pleasure himself?" he snarled. Long’er replied wittily, "Better than your forced consorts, Emperor. Imagine Chen Wei’s wife—her wet, dripping pussy and tight ass—while you work that shaft. No blowjob from her now." The words fueled unwanted heat; he grew hornier, stroking faster.
His breath came in ragged pants as pleasure tangled with shame. The eunuchs watched, mocking yet aroused by his fall. Xian Long came hard, cum spilling onto the dirt, his body shuddering through a second release moments later. "Twice already? Zhao demands a third," the grand eunuch said, drawing his blade with a cold smile.
Yet as the blade gleamed, a distant cheer echoed from the throne room, hinting that the true empress was only beginning her reign.
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