Border Prisoner: The Mad Boss Seduces Her Every Night

His thumb brushed against my waist.

Shi Luyu bit her lower lip, afraid to move.

Xu Yuanjia looked down at her, his fingers slowly drawing circles, as if waiting for her to continue explaining.

Shi Luyu's breathing was erratic. She placed her hands on his shoulders, neither daring to exert force nor relax, hovering in an awkward position.

"That person," Xu Yuanjia finally spoke, his voice low, rising from beneath her chin, "where did you touch him?"

Shi Luyu was taken aback for a moment, then honestly replied, "...Hand?"

Which hand?

She extended her right hand.

Xu Yuanjia grasped her right wrist, turned it over, and leaned down to kiss the back of her hand.

His lips brushed against her skin, gently, with a slightly moist warmth: "This one?"

Shi Luyu nodded.

He kissed it again, this time on the knuckle.

"How many times will I have to tell you before you remember not to touch other people?" He said this in a very casual tone, as if he were stating something that was taken for granted.

My fingers slid to the edge of the leggings, my fingertips hooked onto the thin fabric, pulled it outwards a little, and then let go.

The fabric snapped back against the skin with a very soft "snap".

Shi Luyu trembled and gripped the fabric of his clothes tightly with both hands.

"Did you hear that?" Xu Yuanjia looked up at her, his gaze going from bottom to top, his eyelashes casting a faint shadow under his eyes.

Her face was burning hot, and she could only nod frantically.

Xu Yuanjia stared at her for two seconds, then the corners of his mouth slowly curved into a smile. He reached out, pressed his thumb against her lower lip, and gently pulled it down to reveal a row of neat, pearly teeth.

"Good boy, do you know," his voice lowered, "that your eyelashes tremble when you pretend to be good?"

Shi Luyu's eyelashes were trembling.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but his thumb pressed down on her tongue. Her words were blocked, leaving only a muffled "mmm".

Xu Yuanjia lowered his head, his forehead touching hers, his nose touching hers.

"Brother's hurt," his voice was as soft as a sigh, "Don't make me angry, okay?"

This time, Shi Luyu remained silent.

Because she didn't think helping others was wrong, but she knew that if she told the truth, her brother Jiajia would be angry.

But she hadn't expected that silence would also anger her brother. He was so difficult to deal with.

Xu Yuanjia got up and put her on the hospital bed, letting her sit on the edge of the bed. Then, he supported himself on the edge of the bed with his left hand and looked down at her.

His expression showed no anger, even bordering on calm, but the light in his eyes was deep and cold, like a frozen pool.

"It seems that Guai Guai still wants to be punished a little."

He spoke slowly, his tone as if he were reviewing a trivial case, "Hand, stretch out."

Shi Luyu was enveloped by him, her hands unconsciously clutching the hem of her skirt. Her lips trembled, and her voice was barely a whisper: "Brother..."

"Stretch out," he repeated.

She hesitated for a moment, then removed her right hand from under her skirt and slowly extended it in front of him. Her palm was facing up, and her fingers were still trembling slightly.

Xu Yuanjia grasped her wrist, turned it over so the back of her hand was facing up. With his other hand, he reached under the bed and pulled out a rubber tourniquet, unsure whether it had been left by medical staff or was already there.

He wrapped a dark yellow rubber band around his finger, aimed it at the skin on the back of her right hand, and flicked it down—

"Smack."

The sound wasn't loud, but the rubber lash against her thin skin caused a sharp, piercing pain. A red welt immediately appeared on her palm, like a long, thin centipede.

Shi Luyu bit her lower lip, not making a sound, but her eyes suddenly reddened.

"This hand touched someone," Xu Yuanjia said calmly. "Which finger did it?"

Tears welled up in Shi Luyu's eyes: "They...they touched them all..."

"Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap."

Five strikes. Each strike lands on a different knuckle, with a steady rhythm and just the right amount of force, hitting the line between pain and injury.

Shi Luyu's tears finally fell, one by one hitting the cement ground, leaving dark little dots. Her hand didn't retract; it remained outstretched in front of him, like a little animal that had made a mistake.

Xu Yuanjia tossed the tourniquet aside and grasped her hand, which was red from being whipped. His thumb slowly circled in her palm, rubbing her burning knuckles.

He asked, "Does it hurt?"

Shi Luyu nodded and sniffed.

"Will you still touch other people so casually in the future?"

She shook her head frantically.

Xu Yuanjia bent down, lowered his head, and gently kissed her reddened palm. The warm touch on her burning skin, a mixture of pain and itchiness, made Shi Luyu's tears fall even more fiercely.

"Say it." His lips were still pressed against her skin, his voice muffled as it came from the back of her hand, "You only like your brother."

Shi Luyu sobbed, "I only... I only like my brother."

"I will only touch my brother in this lifetime."

"In this life... I will only touch my brother."

Xu Yuanjia straightened up, reached out and cupped the back of her head, pressing her face against his chest. Her forehead pressed against his firm pectoral muscles, and she could feel the warmth of his muscles beneath the fabric of his clothes.

"Good boy." His voice came down from above, returning to that lazy, smiling tone. "Remember, if you do it again, it won't be as simple as being a thug."

……

In the afternoon, Shi Luyu's hand was still throbbing slightly. She hid it in her sleeve and sat in the last row of the lecture hall. The head of the photography department stood on the podium and read out a list.

"Stone Dew Jade".

She froze for a moment.

"Your original work, 'Twenty-Four Frames of the Border,' has been selected as an outstanding photographic work and has also qualified you to participate in the documentary project 'Night Flight on the Border.'"

The department head's voice echoed in the classroom, and students around him whispered among themselves, while others cast envious glances.

Shi Luyu took the thin promotional sample, which had the words "Border Night Flight" printed on it, and a line of smaller print below: Borderline Documentary Photography Project - Joint Production.

This means she can travel with the film crew deep into the border region and shoot truly significant works. This is what she most wanted to do after arriving in Thames.

She looked down at the sample photo, her lips curving slightly, then she remembered the still-sore red mark on the back of her hand and pouted in grievance.

-

night.

The darkroom of the old art building is on the basement level. Half of the light tubes in the corridor are broken, leaving only a few fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, casting a pale and weak light.

Shi Luyu carried the promotional sample of "Night Flight on the Border" and several rolls of film into the darkroom, closed the door, and pressed the red light switch.

The entire room was bathed in a dark red glow. The enlarger, the developing tray, the drying clips—everything was coated with a blood-like sheen.

She skillfully unwound the film roll, wound it into the developing tank, and the timer ticked away on the table.

Rinse, stop developing, fix, wash.

She did each step of the process carefully. Time became blurred in the darkroom. When she put down the last roll of film and looked up at the clock on the wall, it was almost nine o'clock.

She walked to the door, grasped the doorknob, and pressed it down.

...Can't press it?

She tried again. The handle was as if it were welded shut, not moving an inch. She crouched down to examine the keyhole.

It's an old-fashioned spring lock; the bolt is stuck in the door frame, and there are obvious signs of it being locked from the outside.

Someone locked her inside from the outside.