In the slightly dim room, Mr. Chen sat upright on the sofa made of ferret fur. He had short hair, the collar of the white shirt was slightly open, the cuffs of the shirt were curled to the middle of his arms, revealing wheat-colored skin, and there was no expression on his face, like a pool of lifeless stagnant water, but he could see the surging undercurrents from those black eyes.

On the small table next to the sofa is a bottle of open old 1982 red wine. The blood-red color is like the candlelight of dreams at night, emitting an attractive fragrance. The clear droplets are quietly placed in the crystal cup just taken out of the refrigerator, telling the past history.

Mr. Chen gently pinched the handle of the crystal cup with three fingers so that the temperature of his hand would not affect the red wine. Then he slowly stretched it forward, as if paying tribute to someone, and then poured it gracefully.

The red liquid poured down from the crystal cup and sprinkled on a tightly bound body on the ground. The splashed liquid was as scarlet as blood.

This is a girl wrapped in black rubber coat. Her shiny black high-heeled boots reached the top of her knees, delicately confined to outline her perfect figure. Her slender waist trembled in the black bond, and her slender feet were also wrapped in it, unable to move.

In this airtight package, there is only a small gap at the mouth that connects the outside air. Through the gap, you can vaguely see the red lips inside trying to breathe.

"I was surprised by your performance at the negotiating table, Nero." Mr. Chen slowly put the empty crystal cup on the small table, staring at the girl bound by the rubber coat with deep eyes. His right hand slowly stretched out, and his fingers stroked the soft red lips through the gaps in the rubber coat, and said calmly, "But you should know that I don't like surprises."

Mr. Chen picked up a remote control on the small table. When the button was pressed, the precise and small device sealed the only gap in the rubber coat, which was a special breath suppressor for abuse.

Nero, who had lost his oxygen source, fell into a state of suffocation, but under the constraints of the vacuum, she could not even move her fingers.

Not long after, Nero's suffocated body began to twitch, thrusting and vaguely seeing his tightly bound chest tremble due to lack of oxygen.

Mr. Chen stared at the suffocating Nero calmly until his trembling chest almost stopped rising and falling, leaving only his delicate body twitching unconsciously. He pressed the button of the remote control and unbuttoned the breath suppressor in front of Nero's mouth.

Nero, who was on the verge of death, was nourished by oxygen again. Suddenly, the air injected into her delicate body like drugs. The suffocation was relieved and the pleasure of suffocation was coming like a tide, and it was like a numb electric current was transmitted to every corner of her limbs, and she kept gasping for breath: "Ha...ha...ha..."

No one could have imagined that the supreme leader of the Cross Church, the great Pope Nero II, was actually bound in this extremely tight rubber coat, as if he had become a doll whose whole body was at the mercy of others and even his breathing was controlled by others.

At this time, Nero had no believers as always, no loyal knights, nothing, only Mr. Chen, who represented the highest will of the Judgment Council.

"This is not the first time you have used your body to seek national interests, Nero." Mr. Chen snapped his fingers and asked someone to take a frozen crystal cup from the freezer and poured it with expensive red wine. He gently pinched Nero's red lips and slowly poured the red wine into her mouth without a drop. Then he said lightly, "But this time you have crossed the line a little, I need to give you a small punishment."

Mr. Chen pinched Nero's throat and let the red wine choke directly into her lungs. Then he pressed the button of the breath suppressor again.

The rich red wine rolls in the body. If it is in a suitable place, such as the taste buds in the mouth, it may be a wonderful experience, but these liquids choke into the lungs at this time, and the alcohol rages between the alveoli like fire, causing the respiratory organ to twitch continuously.

Since the respiratory suppressor was turned on, Nero could not even cough. The double suffocation of hypoxia and foreign bodies in his lungs brought pain that ordinary people could not imagine. The body wrapped in vacuum subconsciously struggled desperately, but could not move, and could only be imprisoned on the ground helplessly and trembled.

"Do you like listening to music? Nero?" Mr. Chen looked at Nero, who was twitching due to suffocation, without facing the humiliation of ants at all, but rather reminiscing with old friends. He waved his hands in the air like an artist, and said in some intoxication, "I like Beethoven. His works are very self-centered, as if he is his monarch. All the notes express their feelings and thoughts as he thinks. There is no restraint of skills and rhythm, no desire to please and cater to the audience, and he is obsessed with himself."

When Mr. Chen began to wave his hands, under the playback of the classical phonograph, the "Ninth Symphony", which symbolizes the highest masterpiece of Ludwig vs. Beethoven, penetrates this space and directly enters the climax of the "Fourth Movement".

The magnificent ode of magnificent and philosophical and heroicity is in the room. When the wooden tube slowly introduces the theme of "Ode to Joy", it is like a ray of sunshine breaking through the dense clouds and sprinkling on the earth. After the cello and bass play the theme, viola, big tube, violin and other instruments pour in like a tide.

In the musical ideal country composed by Beethoven, Mr. Chen was fascinated by the intoxication, and his hands followed the music in the air with the precision of being tempered.

Their degree of fit is so high that it is impossible to tell whether Mr. Chen is following the music to wield or the music is following Mr. Chen's command.

In this magnificent musical atmosphere, Nero's pain also reached the peak. Her lungs had already spasmed and ruptured and bleeding. The dense blood foam filled the entire lungs, but it could not flow out of the mouth due to the suffocation of the rubber coat. It was so strongly bound to the body, squeezing the alveoli and trachea.

On the trembling body, the red wine that was splashing danced with the spasms, and sometimes slid down like jade beads, revealing the ultimate unique beauty.

I don’t know how long it took, but when Mr. Chen’s hands were closed, all the musical notes that emerged from the vastness were released like thousands of Buddhas on their sects, pushing the music to a brilliant end.

Mr. Chen's face was full of intoxication, and his cheeks were as bright as if he had just experienced an orgasm, and he seemed to be still addicted to the ocean of music.

At this time, Ophelia, who had been standing in the shadow, suddenly walked over, looked at the intoxicated Mr. Chen coldly, then looked at Nero on the ground, and said coldly: "She can't do it anymore."

Mr. Chen's gaze slowly moved downward and looked at Nero at her feet. She was still struggling for the last few minutes ago, but at this moment, all the movement had disappeared...
Chapter completed!