Ultimate Villain's Return as a Doctor in the Cultivation World

Chapter 312: Chapter 312- Perverts are Everywhere

Phack. Pah. Phack.

"HIEEKK~!! MASTER — THE WATER — IT’S TOO MUCH — HAANGHH~!!"

Yan Shu’s face pressed against the wet stone at the pond’s edge. Her tits — heavy, flushed, nipples swollen from the tentacle’s earlier sucking — dragged against the rock with each thrust. Cang’s twelve inches split her hypersensitive cunt from behind, the water lapping at her paralyzed thighs.

Pah. Pah.

"MNghh~!! Oungh~!! HIEKK~!!"

His cockhead hit her womb. She felt it through the Fairy Skin Art — every vein, every ridge, the pulse of his qi traveling up the shaft and into her belly. Her pussy clenched around him in rhythmic, helpless waves.

Pah. Pah. PAAAHH.

"AAAAHNGHH~!! CANG — MASTER — I’M GOING TO — AGAIN — HAAAIYAANGHH~!!"

Footsteps echoed from the corridor arch.

Cang’s hips stopped mid-thrust.

His hand clamped over her mouth — hard, sealing her lips before the next scream could escape. He pulled her backward into the pond in one fluid motion, his cock still buried to the hilt inside her.

Splash.

The water closed over their heads.

Yan Shu’s eyes went wide. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t scream. His chest pressed against her back, his arm locked around her throat, and his cock — still inside — began to move again.

Pah... Pah...

Underwater, the thrusts were slower. Deeper. Each push sent pressure waves through the water that hit her clit and bounced back through her skin. The Fairy Skin Art devoured every vibration. She felt him everywhere — the water pressing against her pubic bone, his shaft dragging against her front wall, the heat of his abs against her spine.

Pah... Pah... Pah...

Bubbles rose from her nose. "MMPHH~!! MNGHH~!!"

Her muffled cries came out as streams of air against his palm. Her tits floated upward in the water, weightless, nipples pointing toward the surface. Cang’s free hand found one and pinched — hard.

Twist.

"MMMPHHH~!!"

Her body convulsed around his cock. The water rippled.

Above the surface, four figures emerged.

Three men. One woman.

They wore dust-stained gray robes — minor sect disciples, their swords loose at their hips. The woman walked between them, her dark hair in a single braid, her hand near her blade. She was lean, sharp-eyed, perhaps twenty. Her robes clung to a body that was all tight angles and wary muscle.

"—heard it from the east corridor," the first man said. Broad-shouldered, scarred chin. "Like a woman getting torn apart by something big."

"Probably a construct," the second said. Short, fat, sweating despite the cold. "This place plays tricks on the ears. Makes you hear fucking when it’s just wind."

The third — tall, thin, with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes — looked at the pond. "Or an illusion. The Labyrinth is full of them. Sexual illusions to distract weak-minded entrants."

The woman — Hua — stepped closer. Her boots scraped stone. She stared at the water.

Ripples.

Small, rhythmic, spreading from the center in perfect circles. Not random. Not natural.

"Wait," she said. Her hand left her sword. "Don’t you notice—"

Cang had suppressed every trace of qi. His cultivation was a void. Yan Shu, underwater, was equally hidden — her spiritual sense drowned in the overload of her own skin, her Fairy Skin Art screaming at the water pressure and the cock and the lack of air.

Hua stared at the ripples.

"The water," she said. "It’s moving. Something is beneath the surface."

The tall man moved behind her.

"You’re imagining things," he said softly. "The toxin in the air here plays with perception."

His hand came up.

A flash of silver — a needle, thin, gleaming with purple residue — and he pressed it into her shoulder through the robe.

Prick.

"—!" Hua gasped. Her hand flew to the spot. "What— what did you—"

"Poison," the scarred man said. He grinned, stepping forward. "Finally, Junior Sister. You think we’d let you claim the inheritance? A woman? Leading us? Acting like you’re better?"

Hua’s legs buckled. She fell to her knees, then onto her side, her face hitting the stone with a wet crack. Her body went rigid. Her eyes stayed open, terrified, aware, her mouth open in a silent scream.

"Paralysis toxin," the tall man said, rolling the needle between his fingers. "From the Thousand Venom Sect. Cost us half our spirit stones." He looked down at her. "We’ve been waiting for a chance since we entered. You always looked down on us, didn’t you? Little junior sister with her fast cultivation and her pretty face. Always telling us what to do."

The fat man laughed, his belly shaking. "Now you’re just meat. Warm meat. And we’ve been walking behind that ass for three days dreaming about this."

They began stripping.

Clothes hit the floor — belts, robes, pants. Three cocks emerged, flushed and hard and obscene in the dim light. The scarred man was thick and veined, his shaft curved upward. The fat man was short but thick as a wrist. The tall man was long and curved, dripping pre-cum already, his tip dark and swollen.

Hua lay paralyzed, her eyes tracking them, her mouth trying to form words that wouldn’t come. Her mind was a storm of terror. No. No. Not them. Not like this. Please, anyone.

"Look at her," the scarred man said. He knelt and grabbed her ankle. "Still wearing these pretty robes." He tore the outer layer — rip — exposing the inner white silk. "Let’s see what the cold-faced junior sister hides under all that attitude."

They dragged her to the base of a stone pillar.

The tall man grabbed her jaw. "Open."

She couldn’t. Her jaw was locked by the toxin. He pried it open with his dirty fingers, forcing her teeth apart. "There we go. Good girl. Relax. We own you now."

He pressed his cock against her lips.

It smelled — musky, unwashed, sharp with male sweat and stale piss. Hua’s eyes watered. She tried to turn her head. He held her still with a fist in her braid.

"Come on," he said. "Suck it. You know you want to. Every woman wants to."

She bit down — or tried. Her jaw muscles wouldn’t respond. He pushed in, his length sliding over her limp tongue, hitting the back of her throat. She gagged immediately. Tears spilled from her eyes, running down her temples into her hair.

"Gluck... gluck... gllk..."

"She’s loose," the fat man laughed, stroking his short, thick cock. "Can’t even bite. Like a doll. A fuckdoll."

The scarred man had her breasts out. He tore her inner robe open, buttons scattering across stone. Her tits — small, firm, with pink nipples — bounced free. He grabbed them roughly, squeezing until the flesh went white under his grimy fingers. "Soft. Always wondered how soft."

He lowered his head and sucked. Hard.

"Mngh... mngh... slurp..."

His tongue swirled around her nipple, pulling it into his mouth, biting down with his teeth. Hua felt it — every wet pull, every sharp edge of enamel against her sensitive peak. Her body couldn’t move, but her skin screamed. She wanted to vomit. Disgusting. Filthy. Get off me.

The fat man had her legs. He pulled her thighs apart, her knees bending, her white cotton panties exposed. He pressed his face against the fabric and inhaled deeply. "Smells like fear. And something else... sweet. Virgin pussy smell."