NTR: Minor Villain Wants to Be the Main Villain-Chapter 73: Cuck And the Bull!
"His cock is just too big and perfect, unlike yours, you pathetic little worm of a husband."
Juliana declared with a tone so smug it could’ve had its own throne.
Artis let out a hearty laugh, the kind that said he was thoroughly enjoying every second of this humiliating spectacle.
His hips began to move, sliding his monstrous shaft between Juliana’s jiggling ass cheeks like it was his personal warm-up routine.
The obscene squelch of flesh against flesh echoed through the room, making Lui’s already tomato-red face deepen into beet territory.
"You’re a cuck, Lui. Don’t even try to deny it. Look at yourself. You love seeing your wife with a real man, don’t you?"
"I—NO! I DON’T!"
Lui shouted, his voice cracking like a teenager caught in a lie.
Artis raised an eyebrow, his grin widening like a predator who’d just cornered its prey.
"Oh, really? Then what if I do this?"
Before Lui could process what was happening, Artis effortlessly hoisted Juliana into a full-nelson position like she weighed less than a feather. Her legs spread wide apart, dangling like they were auditioning for flight, and her glistening, dripping core was now on full display.
Juliana’s head lolled back against Artis’s chiseled chest, her expression one of utter debauchery. Her lips parted in a delighted gasp as she looked down at Lui, her husband-turned-spectator, with a mix of pity and amusement.
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"You see this, Lui? This is what a real man does. This is how you treat a woman. Your little limp noodle could never."
The monstrosity between Artis’s legs twitched, almost as if it were excited to put on a show. Juliana moaned softly, arching her back as if the very idea of what was coming was already too much.
"Face it, Lui. You’re not just a cuck. You’re the kind of cuck who loves being reminded of how outclassed you are. Admit it. Embrace it. Hell, I might even let you clean up after."
Lui’s jaw dropped, words failing him as he sputtered incoherently. His knees wobbled like they were seconds away from giving out entirely, and his hands, which had been clutching his shame for dear life, slowly began to shake.
It was doing things to Lui—things he couldn’t control. His throat felt tight, his ears buzzed with every lewd word, and the traitorous, stiff flagpole in his pants was standing at full mast.
Try as he might to look away, his eyes were glued to Juliana’s quivering, dripping form.
She wasn’t just his wife right now; she was a goddess of debauchery, and he was the helpless mortal worshipping from afar.
"Look at her, Lui."
Artis said, his voice brimming with smug authority as he gestured toward Juliana’s glistening, pulsing core.
"Your wife’s pussy is dripping. Dripping for my cock, Lui. You couldn’t make her drip like this if your life depended on it."
"D-Dripping, husband! Driiiiipping~"
Juliana echoed, her voice a syrupy blend of mockery and desperate lust. She wiggled her hips ever so slightly, making the obscene wetness between her legs glisten even more in the dim light.
Artis smirked, grinding his throbbing length against her folds with deliberate, teasing slowness.
"Don’t you want to see, Lui? Don’t you want to know just how much of me she can take? How deep I can go? How her sweet little pussy will stretch to fit every inch of me?"
Lui’s breath hitched, his denial faltering.
"N-no…"
He whispered, but it was as weak as a candle in a hurricane.
"Don’t lie to yourself, dad."
Artis chuckled, lifting Juliana slightly before letting her slide down just enough for the tip of his cock to graze her swollen entrance.
"You’re dying to watch, aren’t you? You want to see her cervix bulge from taking all of me, don’t you?"
"Yes! Yes, please!"
Juliana moaned, her voice dripping with sinful delight. Continue your adventure with novelbuddy
"Husband, please! Let him fuck me! I need it. I need him to ruin me!"
"Juliana!"
Lui croaked, his voice breaking, though whether it was from shock or arousal even he couldn’t tell.
Her body trembled as Artis began to slowly lift her up and down, dragging his massive cock against her slick folds.
Each stroke sent shivers through her entire body, her head lolling back as she moaned wantonly.
The friction alone was too much for her hypersensitive body, and her toes curled with the telltale signs of an impending climax.
Artis leaned closer, his smirk widening as he locked eyes with Lui.
"Come on, Lui, say the words, and I’ll give you the front-row show you’ve been dreaming of."
As if to drive the point home, Artis started walking toward Lui with a predator’s grace, Juliana still dangling from his arms like a wicked trophy.
Lui’s face flushed so hard it was a miracle he didn’t combust on the spot. Trembling, his knees knocking like a cartoon character, he stammered.
"I-I-I…"
Before suddenly springing to his feet. His legs wobbled like jelly, but adrenaline gave him one last hurrah.
With a wild look in his eyes, he spun around, slide the door open, and bolted down the hallway.
Artis burst into laughter so loud it practically shook the walls.
"Did you see his face, Mommy? I swear, I’ve never seen a man look so guilty and turned on at the same time!"
Juliana giggled, her body still draped in Artis’s hold, her breasts bouncing from the motion.
"Hehe, I know, right? I never pegged him for a cuck, but now? I should’ve known the moment I saw him with that knight. He’s got the look."
"Nah, it’s fine. If he doesn’t know what he wants, we’ll teach him. Don’t worry, Mommy—by the time I’m done, he’ll understand exactly where he stands."
Artis let out a chuckle, the kind that made it sound like he was a cartoon villain about to unveil his master plan.
Slowly, he lowered Juliana to the ground, her feet barely touching before she eagerly reached out and grabbed the monster between his legs, her fingers barely wrapping halfway around it.
"Are you finally going to take me, son?"
She asked, her voice breathy and dripping with anticipation as she stared at it like it was the Holy Grail—or maybe the last piece of cake at a family reunion.
Juliana had been waiting for this moment like a starving woman at an all-you-can-eat buffet. After decades without so much as a decent thrust, she was practically vibrating with desperation.
Sure, Artis had been keeping her on edge with teasing and his devilishly skilled hands and tongue, leaving her in a blissful coma most nights.
But it wasn’t the main event, and now, she was ready for the fireworks.
Artis smirked, his attention barely flicking to her.
"Nope, not now. Hehehe."
Juliana blinked, her lips parting in disbelief.
"What?"
She whispered, her voice a mixture of outrage and heartbreak.
He wasn’t even looking at her—his gaze was fixed on the door Lui had disappeared through, like a cat watching a mouse hole.
Juliana didn’t know what was going on in that scheming head of his, but honestly? She didn’t care. Her own mind had zero room for deep thoughts at the moment.
"Well then, if you won’t take me, I guess I’ll just have to pamper this beast instead."
And with that, she dropped to her knees like a worshipper at the altar of debauchery, her hands and lips going to work with the fervor of someone who’d just won backstage passes to their favorite band.
"Good girl."
Artis finally glanced down, his smirk growing wider as he reached out to pat her on the head.
...
Dinner was as awkward as a nude man at a church potluck. The family—if you could call it that—was gathered around the table, a weird patchwork of relationships that might make a soap opera writer blush.
Lui was still holed up in his room, presumably whispering sweet nothings to his trauma, while the actual son-in-law, the ghost of this dinner, was still out busting his ass at work.
So, it was just Artis, Juliana, and Nadia, the latter of whom was clearly auditioning for the role of "most inappropriate family member of the year."
Nadia sat across from Artis, her soup spoon trembling in her hand as her eyes shamelessly roamed over his absurdly chiseled torso.
Why he decided to show up shirtless, with just a pair of pants clinging to him like a second skin, was anyone’s guess.
The bulge in his pants was doing more work than half the men in the village, and Nadia had definitely noticed. Her gaze lingered on it like it owed her money.
Juliana, the oblivious saint of the table, was too busy playing hostess to notice her daughter’s slutty stare.
She floated around the table, ladling soup and serving bread, her apron doing its best to look respectable despite the fact she’d been screaming her lungs out earlier in a far less maternal capacity.
Breaking the tension—or maybe doubling it—Artis finally spoke. His voice was deep, commanding, and somehow made even soup sound scandalous.
"We need to do something for Dad..."