Dual Cultivation: Gathering SSS-Rank Wives in the Cultivation World

Chapter 763: Chapter 763 - A Hidden Clause in the Contract... as small as her hole...

The story, the tale of a merchant’s fall, of a daughter’s desperation, was told. While his cock, six inches deep, pushed into her ass.

He pulled out. Then slammed. Down. Deeper.

PAAAH!

"AAANGH~!!"

She cried. She gasped. The pain, the overwhelming, searing, tearing pain of an anal virgin being fucked, was there.

"Please stop," she begged. Her voice was raw. "It hurts."

He looked at her. His gold-crimson eyes, the calm, the authority, held the terms.

"Satisfy me all night," he said. His voice was low. The tone of a man stating a price. "And I will save your father tomorrow."

The words, the exchange, the transaction, were clear. One night. One night of anal. One night of submission. One night of being his. And her father would be saved.

She trembled. Her body, the full frame, shook. The tears, the pain, the gratitude, the shame, the relief, the horror, all of it, mixed.

"Thank you, Immortal," she whispered. Her voice was broken. The gratitude, the raw, painful, humiliating gratitude of a woman who was trading her anal virginity for her father’s life, was there.

She bit her lips. The pain, the teeth, the pressure, drew blood. The red fluid, on her coral lips, was there.

He leaned. His body, golden, warm, was over hers. His hand, large and pale, grabbed her hands. Her wrists, the slender, brown wrists, were held. Over her head. Pinned.

"Good," he said.

And then he slammed.

PAAAH!

"AAAAAANGH~!!!"

Her ass, the full, round, brown cheeks, churned against his thighs. The impact, the flesh on flesh, the divine pelvis against the brown ass, was loud. The cheeks, the soft, full flesh, deformed. The skin, the brown skin, rippled.

Her eyes, wide, rolled. Her scream, the raw, primal, earth-shattering scream of a woman being anally impaled, filled the room.

"It hurts!" she screamed. Her voice was raw. Desperate. "It hurts! It hurts!"

He started to fuck. The rhythm, the pace, was relentless. His hips, driving, blurred. The cock, twelve inches, the head, the shaft, moved. In and out. The anal, the sphincter, the walls, the raw, swollen, virgin tissues, were stretched. Torn. Remade.

Pah pah pah pah pah pah!

"OUNGH~!! HNNNGH~!! AAANGH~!! NIEENGH~!!"

The difference was clear. When her pussy was deflowered, she had screamed internally. The pain, the shock, the trauma, had been processed inward. Silent screaming. Internal agony.

Now, with the anal, she was screaming out loud. The pain, the sheer, overwhelming, impossible pain of an anal virgin being fucked by a twelve-inch divine cock, was beyond internal processing. It was external. Vocal. Primal.

He fucked her on all different positions. Against the wall. Her back against the crystal. Her legs around his waist. His cock in her anal. His fingers, in her pussy. The double penetration, the anal and the vaginal, the cock and the fingers, was overwhelming.

Then lifted. Her back toward his chest. His arms around her waist. His cock in her anal. His fingers on her clit. He made her bounce. Her body, the full frame, moved up and down. His hips, driving upward, met her.

PAAAH! PAAAH! PAAAH!

"OUNGH~!! HNNNGH~!! AAANGH~!!"

Then cowgirl. On the bed. Her pussy, the hairy mound, impaled on his cock. Her anal, the raw, swollen, gaping hole, was visible. She bounced. Her brown boobs, the full mounds, heaved. Her dark nipples, stiff, scraped his chest. His hands, on her hips, controlled the pace. She rode. She cried. She screamed.

He fucked her anal for another five hours. Destroying it. The sphincter, the muscle, was trained. Stretched. Remade. The walls, the raw, swollen tissues, were rewritten. The divine qi, flowing through every inch of contact, was changing her. Her cultivation, the Core Formation, was rising.

Then both holes. One after another. Pussy, then anal. Anal, then pussy. The alternating, the relentless, the continuous switching, was overwhelming. Five more hours.

Ten hours. Ten hours of continuous, relentless, divine fucking. The total, from the pussy defloration to the anal to the both-holes, was ten hours. Ten hours of cock. Ten hours of divine qi. Ten hours of being remade.

Her cultivation, the Core Formation, was catalyzed. The divine qi, the cum, the spiritual energy, flowing through her body, through her meridians, through her dantian, had advanced her. From Core Formation. Through Foundation Establishment. Through Golden Core. Through Nascent Soul. To Soul Formation peak.

The golden light, the breakthrough qi, blazed. Not a pillar. Not a sky-piercing beam. But a contained, internal, personal breakthrough. From Core Formation to Soul Formation peak. Multiple realms. In one night.

She gasped. Her dark eyes, wide, streamed. The realization, the impossible, incomprehensible realization, was there.

’I... I broke through. Soul Formation. Peak. From Core Formation. In one night. Just from... just from his cock. From his cum. From his divine qi.’

’I am... I am Soul Formation. I am... strong. I am... his.’

He came. The thick load, the divine seed, erupted. Into her pussy. Into her womb. The cum, hot and thick, filled her. The divine qi, the spiritual energy, was absorbed. Her body, the Soul Formation peak body, glowed.

He held her. His arms, around her body, groping her boobs. Her body, the full frame, limp, was in his arms. His cock, pulling out from her pussy, was there. The seed, the thick white, fell. The prop, the letting, the seed dripping from her entrance, was visible. The fluid, the divine cum, ran down her brown thighs.

Her eyes, glazed, vacant, the expression of a corrupted woman, were there. The look, the ahegao, the fucked-silly, mind-blank, broken expression, was complete.

"Immortal," she whispered. Her voice, the raw, broken, grateful, ashamed voice of a woman who had been remade, was there. "Thank you. Thank you. Please save my father."

Her hands, her brown, slender fingers, pressed against him. Her body, the full frame, pressed against his. The glow, the Soul Formation qi, radiated from her skin. Her brown skin, the warm tone, glowed with spiritual energy.

He looked at her. His gold-crimson eyes, the assessment, the satisfaction, held the approval.

"Well, we can’t just go like this," he said. His voice was calm. The tone of a man preparing for the next step.

A formation seal, the golden inscriptions, formed on his hand. The spiritual array, the divine formation, the seal, was there. He pressed it. Against her pussy. The inscriptions, the golden, glowing characters, were placed. On her mound. On her lips. On her entrance.

"Who’ll let it sit within you?" he said. His voice was soft. The question, the rhetorical, possessive question of a man marking his territory, was there.

The seal, the formation, the mark, was placed. Her pussy, the hairy mound, the swollen, leaking, well-fucked cunt, was sealed. The cum, the divine seed, inside her womb, was contained. The spiritual energy, the divine qi, was locked inside her. The cultivation, the Soul Formation, was stabilized.

He kissed her forehead. The kiss, soft, warm, the tender, possessive kiss of a master acknowledging his pet, was there.

He stood. His naked body, golden, gleaming, was before her. The merchant’s daughter, lying on the bed, her body twitching, her cultivation glowing, her pussy sealed, looked up at him.

"Let’s go save your father," he said.

His voice was calm. The promise, the commitment, the transaction fulfilled, was there. One night. One night of anal. One night of submission. And her father would be saved.

He sat. On the bed. Like a beast. Like a monster. His body, the golden, muscular, divine form, was there. His smile, the small, knowing, satisfied smile of a being who had just advanced another woman, claimed another pet, sealed another transaction, was there.

"By the way," he said. His voice was soft. The casual, afterthought tone of a man adding a clause to a contract. "My payments can increase."

The words, the warning, the promise, the threat, hung in the air. The price, the payment, the cost of her father’s salvation, was not fixed. It could increase. It could grow. It could become anything he wanted.

The merchant’s daughter, lying on the bed, her body broken, her cultivation remade, her pussy sealed, her anal destroyed, her mind corrupted, her soul claimed, trembled.

’He... he can increase the price. He can ask for more. More nights. More... more of everything. And I... I have to pay. Because my father... my father...’

She closed her eyes. The tears, the last tears, fell.

’What have I done?’