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

Chapter 299- Maid’s Virgin Cunt

The servant’s excuse arrived half-formed and died on her lips.

She had opened her mouth — the automatic defensive reflex of a girl who had spent eighteen years navigating palace hierarchy by being invisible and polite — and whatever she’d been about to say simply evaporated. Her throat produced a small, dry sound. Nothing useful came after it.

Cang had not moved from the bed. He didn’t need to.

The air in the cabin shifted.

It was not a visible thing. Not qi pressure in the way cultivators exerted it — no blazing aura, no visible compression of atmosphere. It was subtler and somehow more absolute than that. The way gravity is absolute. The way the deep current beneath a river’s surface moves regardless of what the surface does.

Both women felt it simultaneously.

Lin Yuxi’s feet left the floor first.

Her sharp intake of breath was cut short as her body lifted — not violently, not with any dramatic force, just ’up’, her silk inner robe trailing, her bare feet clearing the cabin’s wooden planks by an inch, then three, her hair swinging forward around her face. Her hands flew out instinctively, grasping for something, finding nothing.

"’Wha — Master — MASTER—’"

The servant rose beside her.

The wine vessel dropped from fingers that had forgotten how to hold things, hit the floor, and rolled under the bed. The servant’s cry came out as a breathless, full-body sound — "’HYAA~!!’" — her arms windmilling, her legs kicking in the air beneath her in the helpless way of a person whose feet have learned over eighteen years that the floor is always there and are now catastrophically incorrect about this.

They moved through the air toward the bed like two fish on a line being reeled in. Not fast. Deliberately. The way Cang did everything — at exactly the pace that made it clearest who was doing it.

The Queen, who had been in the process of gasping through her most recent orgasm’s aftershocks, craned her head sideways and watched both women arrive over the bed with the expression of a woman who has been thoroughly ruined but has retained enough cognitive function to feel a complicated mixture of relief that it’s not just her and possessive alarm that it is now others.

"’Master — wait — who—’" She tried to push herself up on one elbow.

Cang’s hand pressed her belly flat again.

She went down.

He twisted Lin Yuxi in the air.

It was a single motion — a slight rotation of his wrist that communicated itself through whatever invisible force had hold of her — and Yuxi’s body turned, flipping so that she was inverted above the Queen, parallel to her, face down. Her hair cascaded forward. The nipple chain swung perpendicular to her chest and stayed there, defying gravity for one suspended moment.

Then he lowered her.

She landed on her mother with a sound that was not entirely either woman’s fault — a collision of warm flesh on warm flesh, Yuxi’s face pressing down into the junction of the Queen’s thighs, her nose and lips arriving at the Queen’s swollen, soaked pussy with an accuracy that was not accidental.

"’MPHHFF~!!’"

The Queen’s hips jolted upward. "’AH — YUXI — HAANGHH~!! — your — your face is—’"

Yuxi’s face was exactly where it was.

Her ’ass’, meanwhile, was directly over her mother’s chin, her post-fucked cunt hovering inches above the Queen’s lips, her back pressed against the underside of the Queen’s enormous tits — she could feel the heat of them against her shoulder blades, could feel the silk-smooth skin, the weight of them pressing down onto her.

And at the back of her head — pressed against her skull, unavoidable, intimate, rhythmic — the outline of her mother’s pussy walls parting around his cock with each stroke.

She could feel every thrust.

The thickness of him. The depth. The obscene, unmistakable reality of what was happening three inches from the back of her head, translated through her mother’s body into vibration and heat and the wet, filthy sounds that were now happening directly against her ear.

"’Mnghh—’" Yuxi’s hands found her mother’s inner thighs automatically, pressing flat. Her breath came out ragged. "’Master — I can feel — at the back of my head — every time you—’"

’Phack.’

"’HNGHH~!!’" She clenched. Every muscle. Involuntarily.

’PHACK.’

"’HAANGHH~!! — MOTHER — YOUR — MASTER’S COCK — I CAN FEEL THE OUTLINE THROUGH—’"

The servant arrived on top of her.

Not gently.

The same invisible force that had carried Yuxi placed the servant face-down across Yuxi’s back — the girl’s full weight landing in a breathless, full-body collision that knocked every planned word out of Yuxi’s lungs.

"’MMPHFF—’" Yuxi’s face drove harder into the Queen’s pussy.

"’KYAA~!! — I’M SORRY — I’M SORRY — I DON’T—’" The servant was crying before she’d fully registered where she’d landed, her face now pressing against Yuxi’s lower back, her hips somewhere in the vicinity of Yuxi’s shoulders, and below her chin — directly below, unavoidable, right ’there’ — Lin Yuxi’s soaked pussy pressing against her mouth like a seal.

The smell hit her first. Then the warmth. Then the wet.

She made a sound into Yuxi’s cunt that was not a word in any language.

"’MNGHH~!!’" Yuxi’s thighs clenched around the servant’s head. Not intentionally. Just — clenched.

The Queen, underneath all of this, had Lin Yuxi’s ass directly over her face and was receiving what her own pussy was doing to the back of her daughter’s head transmitted to her through the pressure and was additionally dealing with the ongoing matter of Cang’s cock, which had not paused for any of this organizational restructuring, and was making her deal with all of it simultaneously while her lips happened to be approximately two inches from her daughter’s dripping cunt.

"’Master — this is — HAANGHH~!! — too much — there’s too many—’"

"’AAHN~!! — MOTHER — your mouth — you’re breathing on my—’"

"’I — HIEEKK~!! — I can’t—’"

Cang looked at this arrangement for a moment.

He pulled out.

The Queen made a broken, involuntary sound of loss — "’MNGHH — no — MASTER — why—’" — her empty pussy clenching around nothing, the walls of it visibly parting in protest at the withdrawal.

He moved.

He was at the head of the bed in one motion, kneeling over them, and his hand found the back of Lin Yuxi’s head — tangled in her hair — and pulled her face up from between the Queen’s thighs.

Her face was a disaster. Flushed dark from cheek to chin, wet, eyes glassy, lips parted and glistening. She stared up at him with the expression of a woman who has been face-pressed into her mother’s pussy for forty seconds and has not yet decided how she feels about this.

He brought his cock to her lips.

"Clean it," he said.

It was not loud. It didn’t need to be.

Yuxi’s mouth opened.

He pushed in.

"’GGKK~!!’" Her eyes went wide immediately, the fat head hitting the back of her throat before she’d fully prepared, her hands flying up to press against his thighs — not pushing, just landing there, the automatic brace of a body that doesn’t know what else to do with its hands. "’GLUCK — GLUCK—’"

Her throat worked. Her jaw stretched. Tears pricked at the outer corners of her eyes and gathered without falling, held by some stubborn remnant of dignity that the rest of her face had entirely abandoned.

She tasted the Queen on his cock.

Her mother’s pussy cream, thick and sweet-bitter, covering every inch of him that she worked her tongue across. Her own saliva mixing with it immediately, pooling at the corners of her lips, running down her chin as his hips rolled forward in a slow, unhurried face-fuck that used her throat the way it used every other part of the women in this room — with complete, possessive familiarity.

"’Gluck — gluck — GGKK~!! — gluck—’"