Yandere Levelling in Her World-Chapter 170 - 171: Strapped and milked (R-18)

The extraction room pulsed with heat and the wet, rhythmic sounds of flesh being worked without mercy.

Rows of padded tables lined the dimly lit space, each one equipped with a perfectly circular hole cut at groin level, allowing unrestricted access from below.

The air was thick with the musky scent of sweat, lube, and fresh semen, mingled with the low hum of masculine groans echoing off the walls.

Beneath every table, an attendant, women in skimpy uniforms or nothing at all knelt or crouched in the shadows, hidden from the men's view. Their hands were slick with a mixture of lube and the sticky remnants of multiple loads, working relentlessly to extract every last drop from the strapped-down captives.

On table seven, a broad-shouldered man in his late twenties thrashed against the thick leather straps pinning his wrists, ankles, and chest to the padded surface.

His body glistened with sweat, his cock still hard despite having cum twice already jutted helplessly through the hole.

Below him, a curvaceous woman in her thirties with gripped his spent shaft firmly, her fingers coated in his own mess. She stroked the oversensitive dick with slow, deliberate twists, focusing on the swollen head, milking him with expert precision.

"Oh... please... no more," he groaned through clenched teeth, his hips jerking uselessly against the restraints.

The woman below chuckled darkly, her voice muffled but dripping with wicked amusement as she pumped him harder, squeezing just below the ridge. "Aw, listen to this big strong boy begging already. Your fat cock says otherwise, doesn't it? Look at it twitching in my hand like a desperate little slut. You've got another load in these heavy balls, don't you? I'm gonna drain you dry, you pathetic cum factory."

He let out a deep, guttural moan, his head falling back against the table as she twisted her fist around his slick shaft, thumb pressing into the underside to force out a fresh bead of precum mixed with leftover semen.

At table five, a leaner man in his early thirties bucked wildly, his small cock throbbing in the grip of a younger attendant with a wicked grin. She had both hands working him now, one stroking the shaft in long, teasing pulls while the other fondled his swollen balls, rolling them gently before tugging downward to heighten the sensitivity.

"ahhh... it's too much," he groaned, voice breaking into a whimper.

"Too much? You just started...you need to cum three more times big boy." she taunted, her tone vulgar and mocking as she sped up her strokes, the wet schlick-schlick of lube filling the air. "Bet your wife who sold you doesn't milk you like this, huh? Pathetic...tied down and leaking for a stranger's hand. Come on, give me that third load, you worthless dick. Spray it all over my fingers like the dumb breeding bull you are."

His response was nothing but a strangled groan, body arching as she edged him closer, denying release until he was trembling.

Across the room, the chorus of feminine laughter and crude commands blended with the men's helpless moans and groans, raw, animalistic sounds of surrender as the women continued their merciless milking, hands gliding over hypersensitive flesh, determined to extract load after load until the men were utterly spent.

With a defeated cry, rows of men came. Thick ropes of white semen spurted into the wide-mouthed collection containers women held beneath the hole. The jars were already half-full from his previous orgasms, creamy, pearly fluid swirling lazily. The fresh shots splashed against the glass, adding to the heavy volume.

The first broad shouldered man's erection softened almost immediately, shrinking in her gloved hand. The man sagged against the straps, chest heaving, eyes glassy.

The attendant clicked her tongue. "Already done? Pathetic." She reached for a syringe from the tray beside her. The needle glinted under the harsh lights. Without warning, she jabbed it into the meat of his thigh.

He yelped, body jerking. "W-what are you—"

"Shh," she whispered, depressing the plunger. "Just a little booster. You'll be hard again in ten seconds."

His face twisted in agony as the chemical flooded his veins, burning, electric. Veins stood out on his neck; his jaw locked. Within moments, blood rushed south against his will. His cock swelled, thickening and lengthening until it stood painfully rigid once more, purple and leaking.

"No… please…" he rasped, tears streaking his temples.

The woman below chuckled darkly and wrapped both hands around him again, pumping fast and rough. Her grip twisted on every upstroke, thumb smearing pre-cum over the head.

He lasted less than two minutes before he screamed and erupted again. Then again. And again. Each orgasm came faster, weaker, until clear fluid dribbled out in pathetic spurts, no semen left, just the body's desperate attempt to obey.

His eyes rolled back. His body went limp, head lolling to the side as he passed out mid-spurt.

The attendant sighed, wiping her hands on a towel. "He's done for the day." She raised her voice. "Next!"

Two women in tight black uniforms dragged in the next captive, a lean, terrified young man with dark hair. They forced him onto the freshly vacated table, stripping him roughly while he begged.

"P-please, I have a wife—"

"Shut it," one snapped, buckling the straps. His clothes hit the floor in shreds. His soft cock dangled through the hole, and a new attendant slid into place beneath.

The cycle began again.

Meanwhile, in a private chamber deeper in the same building, the air was thick with feminine musk and anticipation.

Madam Kora and her younger sister, Doctor Lira, lounged on a wide, cushioned bench. Both had stripped off their tops hours ago; full, heavy breasts swayed freely, nipples already stiff. They wore only panties, now soaked through, dark patches spreading down their thighs.

Ren sat strapped to a sturdy metal chair in the center of the room, wrists bound tightly behind his back, ankles secured to the legs. The drug from the water coursed through him, turning his limbs to lead. He could glare, he could snarl, but meaningful struggle was impossible.

Two younger attendants stood in front of him, eyes glazed with raw lust. Clear fluid dripped steadily from between their thighs, pattering onto the tile floor. One whimpered softly, fingers twitching toward her own clit but not quite daring to touch.

Kora licked her lips, voice husky. "Look at him, Lira. Even drugged, those eyes still burn. I'm going to ride that cock until his cock bends. I want to feel him throb inside me while I grind until he begs."

Lira's breath hitched. She reached out, tracing a finger down Ren's chest. "I've never seen you this wet, sister. You're literally dripping on the floor." She laughed softly, scientific curiosity mixing with hunger. "I need to know what's so special about this one. Is it pheromones? Some rare hormonal profile? I'm going to take samples, blood, saliva, semen while I'm bouncing on his face. I want to taste whatever makes you flood like a broken faucet."

Kora rose, hips swaying, and straddled Ren's lap. Her soaked panties brushed his thigh as she leaned in, capturing his mouth in a deep, filthy kiss. Her tongue invaded aggressively, tasting him, claiming.

Ren tried to pull away, but the drug slowed everything. Kora moaned into his mouth, grinding her slick heat against the growing bulge in his pants.

Lira knelt in front of the chair, fingers working his belt open with practiced speed. "Let's get these off. I want to see what's making my sister lose her mind."

She tugged his pants down just enough to free his cock. It sprang up, thick and heavy despite the drug, traitorous blood responding to the overwhelming feminine arousal in the room.

Lira's eyes widened. "Goddess… no wonder."

Kora broke the kiss, saliva bridging their lips. "Mine first," she growled.

She shifted, ready to sink down—

SNAP.

The wet, tearing sound cut through the haze.

Kora's eyes flew wide. She staggered back, hand flying to her mouth. Blood poured between her fingers, spilling down her bare chest in thick rivulets. A chunk of her tongue severed clean, hit the floor with a wet slap.

Ren spat the rest to the side, red staining his lips. His eyes blazed, no longer dulled.

At the exact same moment, a thick plume of gray smoke exploded from his body, no device, no warning just raw power unleashed.

The room filled instantly. Coughing, choking, the women stumbled.

Lira waved a hand in front of her face, eyes streaming. "Cough! cough! what the fuck...this isn't...cough...he's..."

The smoke cleared as suddenly as it appeared.

Kora lay crumpled against the bed, gurgling, blood pooling beneath her head.

The chair sat empty. Cut ropes dangled like shed skin.

The door remained locked from the inside.

Lira spun, heart hammering. "Where—"

Strong arms locked around her from behind. A cold, sharp blade like thing conjured from nothing pressed against her throat.

Ren's voice was low, deadly calm. "What did you put in my water?"

Lira froze, trembling.

The blade nicked her skin. A bead of blood welled.

"Talk."

"I-it's a specialized tranquilizing agent," she stammered, words tumbling out. "Selective neuromuscular blocker dampens neural signaling from motor cortex to skeletal muscle without affecting autonomic responses. That's why you could still get hard, still feel everything, but couldn't fight back properly. It's… it's perfectly safe in regulated doses, reversible in six to eight hours—"

"Enough," Ren snarled. "I don't care about your science lecture. What is this place? Who are you people?"

Lira swallowed against the blade. "We're… we're in the south wing of the old customs warehouses. Closest hidden entrance to Norbata Square. This entire compound belongs to the Blood Sisterhood. We… we harvest high-quality male genetic material. Black-market fertility trade. The gang funds itself this way."

Ren's voice emerged again, but this time he posed a rather strange question to Lira. "Do you know a woman called the Faceless Woman... or Mei... or Arakawa? A woman with red hair... have you seen her?"

Lira was confused, as she had no idea what Ren was talking about. Realizing quickly that she was no longer useful to him, Ren moved on.

Ren's grip tightened for a heartbeat then he shoved her forward. She stumbled, catching herself on the bench.

Another burst of thick smoke bloomed around him.

When Lira's vision cleared, coughing and waving the haze away, the room was empty.

The door still locked.

The window still barred.

Ren was simply gone.

Lira dropped to her knees beside her sister, pressing trembling fingers to Kora's neck, pulse weak, but there.

Blood smeared Lira's bare breasts as she cradled Kora's head.

Her voice came out hoarse, furious, and full of dark promise.

"Fuck… I want that man alive."