Of course, even those who knew her preferences didn’t necessarily understand why she kept Ron around.

Some spread even nastier rumours – that she kept him because normal lovers couldn’t stand her and fled, leaving her with only someone she could use as a “s*x slave”.

“Those rumours are always spread by those who are most attached to me.”

The very people who were most obsessed, the ones who had once groveled at her feet, were the ones who were most eager to spread those vicious rumours.

Some of them even tried to worm their way back into her good graces by insulting her behind her back.

Their duplicity was laughable and pathetic.

But none of them had ever dared to press her directly.

For the men she chose were always those beneath her.

Men without titles, clinging to noble families.

Wealthy commoners, born into merchant families.

Or male courtesans.

She only dealt with men whose status was lower than hers – that was the one boundary she maintained to protect herself while indulging her desires.

In that sense, the man before her was the worst possible type.

Inwardly, Martian wished that whatever interest he had in her would disappear immediately.

Huey leaned back against the sofa, his forehead furrowed in obvious displeasure.

Welcoming his reaction, Martian deliberately added.

“I may look like this, but I’m actually quite pretty in bed.”

At her words, Ron, startled, let out a sudden cough.

What a clueless mutt.

Martian mentally added another punishment to Ron’s bill for tonight as he watched the Count’s expression.

Usually when men heard such comments from her, they recoiled in disgust – which was exactly what she had hoped for.

But Huey was silent for a long time, just staring at their ‘dog’.

There was a calculating, judging look in his eyes.

Finally he spoke again.

“This too… is your personal property?”

Martian instinctively frowned.

“Dog,” he said – and she had never explicitly revealed her preferences to the count.

It was one thing to assume he was insulting her concubine, but the way he said “that too” implied something else entirely.

Of course, Martian hadn’t bothered to hide her s*xual proclivities, and rumours about her were easy enough to find.

But would a nobleman like the Count bother to investigate rumours about someone he barely knew?

A bad feeling crept up inside her as she looked at him.

As if to answer her unspoken question, Huey continued.

“After I arrived here, I visited the famous pleasure house. For a place out here, it was surprisingly large and not too shabby.”

Martian’s brow furrowed. He must be talking about the Dalbamga, the ‘Moonlight House’.

‘The manager must have sold me out again.’
No doubt the manager had personally looked after someone of the count’s stature. And this man would sell anything for the right price.

He must have told the count something – that much was clear.

“My lord, I don’t know what stories you have heard there, but rumours tend to be exaggerated or distorted beyond recognition. So…”

“You really don’t remember, do you?”

Huey interrupted her, looking a little disappointed.

Only then did Martian feel a strange, creeping sensation.

Somehow his body looked familiar.

Wearing only a thin shirt and trousers, the solid contours of his physique were clearly visible.

Just as she had imagined at the banquet, his body was exactly the kind she liked.

As Martian froze, Huey rose to her feet.

She stiffened slightly – what was he doing?

Then he knelt in front of her.

“Even like this, you don’t recognise me?”

The luxurious golden hair, the meticulously groomed pale skin, the perfectly sculpted body – only then did Martian realise where the strange familiarity came from.

The white dog she had once brought to tears – the one that had sobbed and cl*maxed under her relentless abuse.

That dog had said its name was “Hugh”.

And the name of the man now kneeling before her was Huey Sebloard.

“Goddamn it!”

Martian cursed inwardly.

Without realising it, she had already crossed a line she should never have crossed. She opened her mouth hastily.

“My Lord, that night…”

“You remember now, don’t you?”

Huey took her hand and pressed it to his cheek. It was a deliberate act – a reminder of that night when she had mercilessly slapped him until his face was swollen, hurled humiliating words at him and whipped him until he collapsed in a sobbing climax.

Forcing a troubled expression on his face, Martian replied.

“I didn’t know it was you that night, my lord.”

“What difference does it make?”

“I can’t be so careless with a duke’s heir.”

“But I like it. Isn’t that enough?”

Huey looked up at her, puzzled, as if genuinely unable to understand why this was a problem.

Martian bit back a wave of anger.

Even that night he had been nothing but selfish, driven purely by his own desires.

“Unfortunately, I am the problem. I don’t have the confidence to treat you the way I did then, knowing who you are now.”

Martian pulled her hand from his grip.

One mistake had been enough; she had no intention of repeating it.

She was about to get up and leave when Huey grabbed her wrist and insisted.

“Is there something about me you don’t like?”

In truth, there was nothing about him – at least on the outside – that she didn’t like.

He was, maddeningly, exactly her type.

Even his arrogance and selfishness weren’t deal-breakers – they were flaws that could be corrected in time.

Besides, many would see the attention of someone like him as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

But Martian wasn’t one of those people.

She was a “master” by nature -and treating Huey the way she treated her “dogs” would inevitably lead to a whole host of troublesome complications. Not because she feared his status,

but because she didn’t respect it at all. And she knew herself well.

“Let’s just say… I’m too cautious. If you’re looking for someone to satisfy your urges, you can always buy a professional from the Moonlight House. They have plenty of talented ones.”

“But… I preferred you.”

He said, his cheeks flushing slightly.

Maybe he thought he was paying her a compliment, but to Martian it felt no different than being compared to a pr*stitute.

Did he know what he was saying?

She could barely contain her anger.

“I already said no, my lord.”

“But… you enjoyed it too, didn’t you? I remember you smiling when you hurt me…”

The conversation went round and round. Martian clenched and unclenched his fists a few more times. Even after being rebuffed, he stubbornly tried to persuade her – completely unaware of the burden he was placing on her.

She looked down at the count kneeling before her like a pitiful dog.

If she really wanted to, she could ignore his status and treat him like any other.

She knew that.

The very thought stirred a dangerous excitement in her, one that made her more and more cruel.

‘This will become a problem later if I don’t end it properly…’

It was still a relationship between two people. And Martian was not the type to keep her “dogs” for long.

Ending things always involved a certain amount of messiness –

pleading, stalking, clinging.

But none of it had ever developed into anything serious. She just ignored them, chased them away and they eventually gave up.

Because, in the end, they had no way of really interfering with her life. They were beneath her.

“I didn’t know you were a count. If all you want is to have your wishes fulfilled, buy yourself a pr*stitute.”

She even wiped away her polite smile. But even after such a blunt refusal, he refused to back down.

“Can’t you just give me a chance? Just for a little while – I want to be your dog.”

Martian let out a short sigh. The very fact that he kept insisting on his own wishes like that meant that he had no real understanding of the relationship between a master and a dog.

He didn’t really want to submit -he just wanted to indulge his fantasies.

“Do you really mean it, Master? That you want to be my dog?”

“Yes. That night I really -“

“Ron. Come here.”

She gestured for Ron to come over.

Startled by the sudden summons, Ron hesitated with a nervous expression on his face.

Martian walked past Huey and grabbed Ron’s hair.

Ron pursed his lips in tension – when her hands moved before her words, it meant her mood was particularly bad.

But he didn’t make a second mistake. He immediately knelt obediently.

“Use your head. Strip.”

“My lady, here, in this place…”

“My lady?”

Without warning, she slapped Ron hard across the face.

The sharp sound echoed through the room.

“I said use your head. Speak to me properly.”

“I apologise, Master.”

“Strip.”

As Ron undressed, Martian turned to Huey. He was staring at them with a deeply furrowed brow. Martian deliberately smiled slightly.

It irritated her to see Huey clinging to her so desperately, saying he wanted to be her dog.

A dog that did what he wanted was the worst kind of creature.

She addressed Ron calmly:

“If you want to be my dog, the first thing you must learn is to wait patiently. No master would take in a dog who didn’t know his place.”

Ron was completely n*ked.

Martian made him stand with his hands behind his back. His exposed body trembled with humiliation. He couldn’t even raise his head, staring down at the floor.

His hands twitched slightly, instinctively wanting to cover himself.

He was used to being humiliated by her – but today they weren’t alone.

“You hate being seen by others so much, and yet look at you now. Hm?”

Martian laughed as she pressed her fingertips to his n*pples. Each time the rings attached to them shifted, making a faint clinking sound from the connecting chain.

“Standing there with your n*pples so stiff.”

“Hhngh, uh…”

Martian twisted one of his n*pples. Lightly scratched and twisted, the stimulation was immediate. She kneaded the swollen n*pple between her fingertips, then hooked a finger into the chain connecting them.

“Kneel.”

She commanded. The chain was still around her finger.

Ron saw it and began to lower himself awkwardly.