The moon was high in the sky, a silent, silver witness to the quiet, humiliating ordeal taking place in the shadows of the Shrek Academy.
It had been more than twenty minutes. Twenty long, agonizing, and incredibly, shamefully, stimulating minutes. Liu Erlong's body was a canvas of conflicting sensations. Her arms ached from supporting her weight. Her thighs burned with the friction of her slow, grinding movements. And her mind was a numb, white haze of pure, unadulterated degradation.
She continued to move up and down on his lap, her beautiful, thick, yet soft thighs a desperate, living sheath for his hard, thick dick. But it was not enough.
'He's not cumming,' she thought, a fresh wave of desperate, hot tears stinging her eyes. 'Why isn't he cumming? Am I not doing it right? Is my body not pleasing enough for him?'
The truth was, the sensation was… adequate. It was a pleasant, warm friction. But it lacked the raw, intense stimulation of her magnificent tits, or the tight, wet heat of her mouth. He had already climaxed twice, and to push him over the edge a third time would require something more.
He continued to be entangled with his dear Ah Yin, their quiet, intimate caresses a constant, mocking counterpoint to her own, labored efforts. His lips were on her neck, his hands were on her breasts, and they were in their own, private world.
And it was then that he felt it.
A new, frantic, and incredibly panicked ripple that spread through the vast, silent network of his Blood Silver Domain.
It was the awakening of the broken toy.
He paused, his hand stilling on Ah Yin's breast. She looked at him, a silent, questioning look in her crimson eyes. He just smiled, a slow, predatory expression.
'It's showtime,' he thought.
The first thing Tang San became aware of was the pain. It was a deep, throbbing ache in his chest, a fiery reminder of the devastating blow he had taken from Senior Tai Nuo.
He opened his eyes. He was in the infirmary. The room was dark, the only light the soft, silvery glow of the full moon streaming through the open window.
'I must have been unconscious for hours,' he thought, his mind a groggy, confused haze. 'The spar… I remember my Blue Silver Grass… it just… weakened. Why?'
He slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, hissing in pain as his broken ribs protested the movement. And then, he felt it.
A strange, new, and incredibly unfamiliar sensation in his left hand.
It was a feeling he knew well. The feeling of a new, raw, and untamed power settling into his spirit, a feeling he usually only ever felt in his right hand after absorbing a new Spirit Ring.
'What is this?' he thought, his brow furrowed in confusion. He looked down at his left hand and, with a single, focused thought, he summoned his second Spirit.
The Clear Sky Hammer materialized in his palm. It was still a thing of beautiful, terrifying power, its black, metallic surface seeming to drink the very moonlight from the air.
But it was not the same.
He stared, his eyes widening with a mixture of pure, unadulterated, and utterly, completely, and soul-shattering horror.
Three new Spirit Rings, three pathetic, weak, and utterly, completely, and disgustingly white rings, were now clinging to the base of his magnificent, peerless hammer.
"No…" he whispered, his voice a choked, broken sound. "No, no, no, this can't be happening."
He tried to remember. He tried to recall how this could have possibly happened. But his mind was a blank. He remembered the spar. He remembered the pain. And then… nothing. Just a deep, dreamless darkness.
He thought of his teacher. He thought of the Grandmaster's endless, repetitive lectures. 'Your Clear Sky Hammer is your greatest trump card, Xiao San. You must not attach any Spirit Rings to it until you are at least a Spirit Saint. Then, your first ring can be a ten-thousand-year-old black ring. It will be the foundation of your true power.'
And now… now that foundation was a pile of rubble. His first three Spirit Rings, the three most important, most foundational rings of his second Spirit, they were not just weak. They were trash. The absolute, bottom-of-the-barrel, ten-year-old trash.
And the news got worse.
He focused his spirit power, and the pathetic, useless abilities of the three new rings flooded his mind.
"First Spirit Ring…" he whispered, his voice a dead, hollow sound. "Bunny Hop? From a Ten-Year-Old Swift-Foot Rabbit?" He activated it. The colossal, black hammer in his hand performed a single, uncontrolled, and utterly, completely, and comically pathetic little hop, landing on the bed with a soft, muffled thump.
"Second Spirit Ring…" he continued, his voice trembling with a rising, hysterical rage. "Carrot Sense? From a Ten-Year-Old Long-Eared Rabbit?" He activated it. Two small, fluffy, and incredibly, shamefully, and disgustingly adorable white ears sprouted from the top of the hammer's head. They twitched. And they pointed towards the kitchen.
"And the third…" he snarled, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "Scamper Smash? From a Ten-Year-Old Fluffy-Tailed Rabbit?" He activated it. He swung the hammer with all his might. It moved in a blur of motion, a testament to its new, useless speed. And it hit the wall with the force… of a cotton ball.
He stared at his hammer. At the three pathetic, white rings. At the two fluffy, white ears that were still twitching on its head.
And then, he screamed.
It was not a sound of pain. It was a sound of pure, unadulterated, and utterly, completely, and soul-shattering rage.
"WHOEVER DID THIS!" he roared, his voice a raw, ragged sound of pure, impotent fury. "YOU ARE ON YOUR PATH TO DEATH!"
He sat there for a long, silent moment, his body trembling with the force of his own rage. But then, a new, more rational thought pierced through the red haze.
'My teacher,' he thought, a small, desperate flicker of hope igniting in the darkness of his despair. 'The Grandmaster. He will know what to do. He is the wisest man in the world. He will have a solution. He has to.'
He scrambled from the bed, ignoring the searing pain in his chest, and rushed out of the infirmary, his destination the one place in the world where he believed he could still find an answer.
Zhang Tian and Ah Yin watched him go, a pair of silent, amused predators.
"Well," Zhang Tian said, his voice a low, satisfied purr. "That was… entertaining." He looked down at Liu Erlong, who was still a frozen, shocked statue on his lap. "But I am getting bored here. It is time for a change of scenery."
He stood up, scooping her into his arms as if she weighed nothing. He held her in a bridal carry, her magnificent, voluptuous body a warm, trembling weight against his chest, his still-hard dick still nestled between her beautiful, thick, yet soft thighs.
He and Ah Yin then moved, a pair of silent, invisible phantoms gliding through the dark, sleeping grounds of the academy.
Liu Erlong felt a new wave of pure, unadulterated terror wash over her. They were moving through the open, past the dormitories, past the training fields, past the very students and teachers that she was supposed to be a leader of.
"Stop!" she hissed, her voice a desperate, pleading whisper. "Please, Zhang Tian, not here! Don't humiliate me like this in front of everyone!"
But then, she realized something.
They passed a group of late-night students, their laughter a loud, boisterous sound in the quiet night. And they didn't see her. They didn't even glance in their direction. It was as if she, and the two monsters who were carrying her, were not even there.
'We're… invisible?' she thought, her mind reeling from the sheer, casual display of his impossible, magical power.
And then, she saw where they were going. And a new, far more terrifying kind of horror dawned in her eyes.
It was her lover's office.
They stopped just outside the window. Zhang Tian pressed her against the cold, hard wall of the building, her head bumping against the wooden window frame. And he began to move again, a slow, grinding, and deeply, profoundly, and utterly, completely, and soul-crushingly humiliating to-and-fro motion, his large dick a relentless, punishing presence between her soft, thick thighs.
She didn't dare to make a sound. She didn't dare to plead with him to stop. She didn't know if Xiaogang could hear her.
It was at that moment that the door to the office was thrown open. She heard Tang San's frantic, desperate voice, and then the deep, shocked, and utterly, completely, and devastatingly horrified roar of the man she loved.
She couldn't see what was happening. But she could hear it all. She heard Tang San's broken, desperate explanation. She heard the sound of a heavy object, likely the hammer, being slammed onto the desk.
And she heard Yu Xiaogang's voice, a sound she had never heard before. A sound of pure, unadulterated, and utterly, completely, and soul-shattering despair.
"Who?" he roared, his voice a raw, ragged sound of pure, impotent fury. "Who would do this?! Who would be so cruel, so monstrous, as to cripple a genius in such a way?!"
And Liu Erlong knew.
She knew, with a cold, hard, and deeply, profoundly, and utterly, completely, and terrifyingly certain knowledge, who was responsible.
It was them. It was the calm, handsome monster who was currently fucking her thighs against the wall of her lover's office. And it was the beautiful, crimson-haired woman who was standing beside him, a silent, amused smile on her perfect lips.
The realization, the sheer, casual, and utterly, completely, and terrifyingly monstrous cruelty of their actions, sent a wave of pure, unadulterated terror through her.
She felt Zhang Tian's movements get faster, his thrusts becoming more frantic, more powerful. He seemed to be feeding off the despair, the rage, the pure, unadulterated misery that was radiating from the room just a few feet away.
She felt him tense, a low, guttural groan rumbling in his chest. He was close.
'Not here,' she thought, a new, desperate, and utterly, completely, and pathetic plea forming in her mind. 'Please, not here. Not on the wall of his office.'
As if he had heard her thoughts, he suddenly stopped. He spun her around in his arms, her back now pressed against his chest.
"Swallow it all," he commanded, his voice a low, husky growl against her ear. "Do not waste a single drop."
She was shocked, her mind a dizzying, wonderful haze of humiliation and a dark, budding pleasure. She was turned around in his arms, her body a trembling, willing instrument of his will. She had to lower her body, to take his erect, magnificent dick into her mouth.
And she did.
He held her head, his fingers tangling in her fiery red hair, and he fucked her mouth, his rhythm hard, fast, and relentlessly deep.
And as he felt the final, explosive release building within him, he looked through the window. He saw the broken, sobbing form of Tang San. He saw the raging, impotent fury of the great Grandmaster.
And he came.
His release was a hot, powerful, and utterly, completely, and triumphantly triumphant flood that shot directly down her throat.
This time, she tasted it. Her tongue, a traitorous, curious thing, licked his dick clean as he slowly, lazily, pulled out of her mouth.
And then, with a single, final, and utterly, completely, and soul-crushingly humiliating gulp, she swallowed his massive, viscous load.
Liu Erlong thought he would be done. She thought that after that final, soul-crushing act of submission, he would be sated, and he would let her go.
But she was wrong.
Zhang Tian just looked down at her, at the beautiful, powerful Spirit Saint who was now a trembling, tear-streaked mess at his feet, and a slow, lazy, and utterly, completely, and terrifyingly unsated smile spread across his handsome face.
"This," he said, his voice a low, husky purr that made her blood run cold, "is merely the start."
He reached down and, with an effortless strength that was a stark, brutal reminder of her own, suppressed powerlessness, he scooped her into his arms. He held her in a strange, new position, a kind of Pleasure Pick-Me-Up, her back pressed against his chest, her magnificent, curvaceous ass nestled perfectly against his groin.
And she could feel it. His dick. It was still hard. It was still erect. And it showed no signs of being satisfied.
He began to walk, carrying her as if she weighed nothing. And with every step, he ground his hips against her. His hard, thick dick, its pinkish shaft and lighter pink head a stark, beautiful contrast to the dark, shadowy night, was a relentless, punishing presence against her buttocks. It slid back and forth, the friction a slow, torturous fire. It would brush against the sensitive, swollen lips of her pussy, then slide up to the tight, puckered entrance of her ass, a constant, maddening tease that promised a violation that he had, for now, sworn not to deliver.
Her back was now facing the window of her lover's office. She could hear them inside. She could hear Xiaogang's voice, a sound that had once been a source of comfort, of love, of her very reason for being. And now… now it was the soundtrack to her own, personal hell.
'He is right there,' her mind screamed, a silent, hysterical cry. 'Just a few feet away. And he is trying to find the culprit who has ruined his disciple's potential. And I… I am out here. Being defiled by that very culprit.'
The thought, the sheer, unadulterated, and almost comically tragic irony of it all, filled her with a wave of pure, unadulterated guilt. But the guilt was now a distant, muted thing. It was being slowly, but surely, consumed by a new, more powerful, and far more terrifying emotion.
Lust.
Her body, which had been a thing of shame and humiliation, was now a traitor. It was responding to his touch, to his scent, to the relentless, grinding pressure of his magnificent dick against her. Her pussy, which had been a dry, aching void just an hour before, was now a wet, glistening, and utterly, completely, and shamelessly dripping mess.
She was so damn horny.
She let out a small, choked whimper, a sound of pure, desperate need. Her own hand, a traitorous, independent thing, moved down, her fingers finding her own slick, swollen clit. She tried to rub herself, to find some small, pathetic measure of relief. But it was no use. It wasn't helping at all.
Zhang Tian felt her whimper, felt the subtle, desperate movement of her hand, and a low, appreciative chuckle rumbled in his chest. He was getting more excited with every passing moment.
They continued to listen to the conversation that was unfolding within the office.
"I understand your anger, Xiao San," Yu Xiaogang's voice was a low, somber sound, laced with a deep, profound despair. "But you must calm down. We will find out who is responsible for this. And I promise you, we will make them pay a price a thousand times more painful than what they have done to you."
He paused, and they could hear the sound of him pacing back and forth.
"For now," he continued, his voice taking on a new, more analytical tone, "you must keep your Clear Sky Hammer concealed. More so than ever. Its potential has been… damaged. But not destroyed. To compensate for these three, pathetic, trash-tier rings, your future rings must be of the absolute highest quality. From now on, every ring you attach to your hammer must be a ten-thousand-year-old black ring. At the very least. And one, perhaps even two, of them must be a hundred-thousand-year-old ring."
They heard Tang San's sharp, intake of breath.
"A hundred-thousand-year-old ring?" he asked, his voice a mixture of awe and a dawning, horrified understanding. "But Teacher… my body… it would not be able to withstand the backlash."
"I know," Yu Xiaogang said, his voice a grim, determined sound. "Which means we must strengthen your physique. Dramatically. You will need to absorb more Spirit Bones. Powerful ones. At least forty-thousand-years-old. Perhaps even sixty-thousand-years-old. Only then will your body be strong enough to even attempt such a thing."
Tang San was silent for a long moment. "I… I understand, Teacher." He then added, his voice a low, pained sound, "And there is… there is something else. Yesterday, during my spar with Senior Tai Nuo… my Blue Silver Grass. It… it became weaker. Significantly so. Its range, its binding power, its tenacity… it is all much, much weaker than it was before."
There was a long, heavy silence from within the office.
"Show me," Yu Xiaogang commanded.
They heard a faint, rustling sound.
"The golden veins…" Yu Xiaogang's voice was a low, disbelieving whisper. "They're… they're gone." He then asked, his voice a sharp, urgent sound, "Is it affecting your absorption of spirit power?"
They heard Tang San take a deep, shuddering breath. He was clearly testing it, circulating his Mysterious Heaven Technique.
"Yes, Teacher," he said, his voice a dead, hollow sound. "It is. It is much, much slower than before."
Another long, heavy silence.
"I… I will look into it," Yu Xiaogang said finally, his voice a weary, defeated sound. He let out a long, slow sigh. "This means that your own, natural cultivation speed will be greatly reduced. Which means… which means we will need more of those pills. More of those Heavenly Water Pills. Do not worry, Xiao San," he added, his voice a forced, hollow sound of reassurance. "I… I will acquire them for you."
A few moments later, the door to the office opened, and a dejected, broken-looking Tang San walked out.
Once his disciple had left, Yu Xiaogang let out a long, low groan, a sound of pure, unadulterated despair.
He began to mutter to himself, his voice a low, bitter sound that was a perfect, clear broadcast to the three silent, invisible listeners outside his window.
"It is as if a heavenly disaster has fallen upon my disciple," he lamented. "His hammer… his grass… his very future is in jeopardy. I need those pills. I need more of them. That foolish woman… Erlong… I will have to find a way to make her go back. Perhaps… perhaps I will hold her hand. That will be enough to satisfy her pathetic, childish craving for my affection. And then, when she is happy, when she is compliant… I can shout at her again. I can force her to go back. To get more pills from that Zhang Tian."
He continued to mutter, his words a pure, unfiltered stream of his own, cold, manipulative thoughts. He spoke of his plans, of how he would use her, of how her foolish, all-consuming love for him was a perfect, useful tool.
And outside the window, Liu Erlong heard it all.
The last, fragile, and utterly, completely, and beautifully pathetic vestiges of her love, of her hope, of her twenty-year-long delusion… they all just shattered.
A wave of pure, cold, and utterly, completely, and beautifully liberating rage washed over her.
And at that exact moment, she felt something new.
Something hard, and thick, and incredibly, impossibly hot, pressing against the wet, glistening entrance to her pussy.
Zhang Tian leaned in, his mouth finding her ear.
"So," he whispered, his voice a low, seductive, and incredibly, beautifully, and cruelly timed purr. "Will you continue to be his slave? Will you continue to be bound by the chains of a love that he so clearly, so masterfully, uses against you? Or…"
He pressed the head of his magnificent, large, thick dick a little harder against her, the sensation a jolt of pure, electric pleasure that made her gasp.
"…should I push it inside? And make you a new woman."
He looked at her, and his eyes were gleaming with a dark, predatory light. "The choice is yours, Erlong. You can go back to him, to his manipulation, to your lonely, pathetic life. Or you can stay here, with me. It won't be love… but I promise you, it will be a great, great satisfaction."
His words… the rage she felt towards Yu Xiaogang… the intense, overwhelming lust that was now a raging, all-consuming inferno in her own body… her mind, which had been a storm of confusion and despair, just… broke.
It went blank.
And her body… her body made the decision for her.
She did not think. She did not rationalize. She just… acted.
Her body, which had been a tense, rigid thing in his arms, suddenly went limp. She slid down his frame, a single, fluid, and utterly, completely, and irrevocably final act of surrender.
And as she slid down, his magnificent, large, thick dick, which had been a teasing, tormenting presence at her entrance, found its home.
It slid into her tight, virgin pussy.
"AHHHHHH!"
A loud, raw, and utterly, completely, and beautifully agonized scream was torn from her lips as her twenty-year-long, and self-imposed, seal of purity was broken. The pain was a sharp, searing, and brilliant thing, but beneath it, there was something else. A deep, profound, and utterly, completely, and soul-shatteringly satisfying fullness.
A thin trickle of blood, a stark, beautiful crimson against the pale, perfect skin of her inner thigh, was a final, beautiful testament to the death of the old Liu Erlong.
And the birth of a new one.
~~
A/N: Check out my other novels like "Harem Master: Seduction System" and the "Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist" and I hope you like this story and those stories as well.
Check out more chapters on my P.atreon. The P.atreon will have 20+ Chapters ahead for this story. I hope you like it.
The link of p.atreon is: bit.ly/evildragon