Ultimate Villain's Return as a Doctor in the Cultivation World-Chapter 275- Banging into Oblivion

That second voice was quieter, and it was the truth, and she hated it with the last ember of what she used to be.

She moved.

Her legs spread awkwardly wide to accommodate the heavy bulk of her belly and her ruined, swollen holes, her crawl a low, clumsy, ungainly drag across the wet ground — her milk-soaked, chain-adorned breasts plowing twin grooves through the wet grass, her belly pressing a wider path between them.

She reached his side.

Her trembling hand found his massive, resting palm and pulled it — not to her cheek, not in supplication — but directly onto her massive, aching left breast, pressing his fingers into the abused flesh beside the golden hook with the focused, desperate precision of a woman who had learned exactly where she needed to be touched.

Tears streamed freely down her flushed, beautiful face.

"P-Please..." she whimpered, her voice soft and wrecked and ’dripping’ with a slutty, pathetic need that would have made the throne she once sat on collapse from shame. "Please enjoy me, Master."

Cang smirked at the cave ceiling without moving an inch.

His silence was permission.

She climbed him.

Her thick thighs straddled his hips with shaking effort, her belly pressing warm and round against his stomach as she reached down with both soft hands, gripped his thick, half-hard cock, and guided it to her entrance with the steady, intimate familiarity of a woman navigating something she had memorized.

She sank down.

"’HNNNNGGGHHH~~!!’"

Her eyes rolled back as she was impaled entirely, his full length disappearing into her soaked, gripping cunt until there was nowhere left to go and she was seated completely — her heavy belly resting on his stomach, her ruined nipples leaking milk onto his chest, her thick thighs framing his hips.

Then she began to move.

’Bounce. Jiggle. Schlick.’

Her pregnant belly swayed and lurched with every downward plunge, the weight of it swinging forward and back in a heavy, hypnotic rhythm that was entirely obscene and entirely beyond her control.

Her massive breasts bounced violently with her pace, the golden chains clinking a chaotic, wet music — milk flying from the pierced tips in thin, messy arcs that landed across his chest, his jaw, the grass beside them.

"Ahh... ahh... yes... ’Master’s cock’... ahhnn!"

’It fills everything. There is no thought left. There is only this. There is only him. There is only—’

’—more.’

Cang watched her from beneath lazy, half-closed eyes — the majestic wreckage of a once-regal woman destroying herself on his shaft with complete, devoted abandon — his hands resting behind his head, entirely content.

The wet, meaty slap of her pussy against his pelvis rang through the cave in a steady, driving rhythm, her fluid-slicked thighs quivering with every landing.

After a long while, he smiled.

He closed his eyes, entirely at ease, and spoke to the cave ceiling.

"I need water."

She stopped bouncing.

Her hips kept grinding — slow, unconscious circles that kept his length buried to the root inside her womb — while she looked down at his face with eyes that held nothing in them except a warm, glassy devotion that had replaced every other thing she had ever been.

She leaned forward.

Her belly pressed warm and heavy against his stomach, her bruised breasts hanging above his face, and her hands found the swollen, milk-tight undersides of both massive mounds and lifted them — aimed the raw, leaking nipples directly over his lips — and squeezed.

Thick, warm, sweet milk sprayed from both tips in a steady, generous stream, landing on his lips, filling his half-open mouth, tracing warm white lines down the corners of his jaw.

At the exact same moment, she rolled her hips in one long, slow, maddening circle — her pussy walls flexing and gripping his buried cock in a gentle, rhythmic milk of their own — and the dual offering of being fed from above and held from within drew a low, satisfied sound from somewhere deep in his chest.

The Queen smiled.

A loopy, broken, entirely slutty smile — her eyes half-lidded, tears drying on her cheeks, milk dripping from her chin where it had splashed back — her hips still rolling in their slow, devoted rhythm.

"Enjoy~~ Master~~"

He drank from her for a long moment.

Her milk filled his mouth, warm and obscenely sweet, and she fed him with the trembling, devoted hands of a woman who had forgotten every language except this one — her hips still rolling their slow circles, keeping him buried, keeping him ’there’, terrified of the emptiness that would exist if she ever had to stop.

Then his hand moved.

Not to her breast, not gently — his fingers found the golden chain connecting both hooks, took a single, deliberate wrap around his knuckles, and ’pulled.’

"’AAHHH’—!!"

The cry that tore from her throat was completely involuntary — high and raw and ’wet’ — her back snapping rigid, both nipple hooks dragged upward by the chain until the pierced flesh stretched taut and thin, milk shooting from the stressed tips in two hard, diagonal sprays that crossed mid-air above his chest.

Her whole body lurched with it.

Her thighs clamped around his hips on reflex, her grinding hips stuttering, her swollen belly swaying forward with the sudden jolt — and through the blinding, hot flash of pain she felt her pussy ’clench’ around him with a force that had nothing to do with intention.

Cang watched her face.

Watched the tears spring immediately, automatically, spilling down already-stained cheeks — watched her jaw drop open, bottom lip trembling, eyes going glassy and wide with an expression that sat directly on the razor edge between agony and something she had no more will left to resist.

He smiled.

"Too delicious, you filthy bitch."

His voice was entirely conversational, like he was commenting on weather or wine, which made it land worse than cruelty would have. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

He tugged the chain ’again’ — shorter this time, sharper — and her cry cracked right down the middle into a moan, the two sounds fusing into something that bounced off every wet cave wall and came back sounding like worship.

"M-Master—’AHH’—the chain—please—the chain—"

"Mm."

He wasn’t listening. Not to the words.

He was watching the milk.

The way it beaded at the stretched, reddened tips and then ran — the way the hooks left small red crescent impressions in bruised flesh that his thumb could press into and feel her whole body respond like a plucked string.

’It hurts. It hurts and I’m—’

’—why am I getting wetter—’

He moved.

One smooth, entirely unbothered motion — he sat up, wrapped one large arm around her back, and ’rolled’ her.

She didn’t have time to process it.

The world flipped — her back hit the wet grass, her heavy pregnant belly lurching with the change in gravity, swinging sideways and then settling forward with a deep, fluid ’slosh’ — and then his weight was above her.

He pressed her knees toward her shoulders.

The mating press folded her completely — her thick thighs bent back, her massive belly compressed between their bodies, the round bulk of it pressing warm and tight against his stomach as he settled his hips between hers and ’rearranged’ her arrangement as though she were furniture he was positioning.

"Wait—" Her hands flew to his chest. "Wait, my belly — you’ll hurt — please, the baby—"

"Still alive," Cang said.

He pushed her knees further back.

’He doesn’t care. He doesn’t—’

’—he knows she’s fine. He knows. He would know. He’s an Immortal, he would—’

’—he’s going to fuck me like this and my belly is pressed between us and his cock is right there and I—’