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

Chapter 293 293 - Ass of Pregnant Queen

Her hand found the arm of her husband's throne — the rosewood, gold-inlaid seat she'd just used to dissolve his legacy and claim his authority — and she leaned forward over it, bending at the waist, one forearm resting along the armrest for balance. Her heavy pregnant belly hung forward, enormous and warm, pressing against the throne's carved front panel. Her other hand gathered the outermost robe panel and pulled it up over the curve of her ass, exposing the thick, milk-pale flesh of her hips — wide and soft and marked with the faint bruising of seven days of his hands — to the open air.

The inner robes followed. She worked them up methodically, without hurry, until the full expanse of her lower body was bare.

Her ass was breathtaking even by objective measure. The pregnancy had done things to her hips that no cultivation technique had — widened them, deepened them, made the flesh generous in a way that jiggled with every small movement. The bruise prints of his fingers were visible on both cheeks in yellow-green patterns that hadn't fully faded. Her pussy between her thick thighs was swollen and wet before he'd touched her — had been wet since she walked into the assembly hall, had been wet for seven consecutive days, seemed to exist now in a permanent state of readiness that she'd stopped noticing. Her anal ring was slightly puffy from the week's use, flushed pink, and as his eyes landed there she pressed her forehead against the throne's carved back and exhaled.

"Master," she said. The word came out stripped of the authority that had filled it for the past three hours. Small, and needing. "Please."

She bit her lower lip. Then, because pride was a thing she'd left somewhere in the sheets a week ago: "We did what you said. We handled it. All of it." She pressed her hips back slightly, an unconscious offering. "Please."

Lin Yuxi, still pressed against his chest, pulled back just enough to look up at him. Her fingers found the collar of her court robes and pulled — the silver nipple chain he'd had Marlin attach that morning swung free, catching candlelight, the pierced peaks they connected flushed deep pink and stiff from three hours of confinement against court armor. Her eyes were luminous with something that wasn't dignity.

"We brought them all," she said. "Everything you asked for. The succession, the ceremony, the Labyrinth entry—" She reached into the fold of her robe and produced the document Elder Fang had left — the participant list, the family names, the small formal portrait in the upper corner. She held it out. "—All of it."

Cang looked at the document.

He took it from her hand.

Lin Yuxi made a sound, immediately — a needy, frustrated sound — as his attention moved to the paper instead of her. He looked it over with genuine focus, eyes tracking down the list of names and cultivation levels and family affiliations with the unhurried thoroughness of a man reviewing campaign intelligence. Which was, in fact, what it was.

She pulled her own breast up — both hands cupping the underside, lifting the pierced left tit toward his face, the silver chain swinging. The peak was already tight and aching.

He bit it without looking up from the document.

"'HKK—'" Her knees buckled. "'AAHN~!!'" The sharp, sudden pressure of his teeth sent an electric bolt straight from her nipple to her lower belly, and her pussy clenched so hard a thin trickle ran down her inner thigh through her court robes. He worried it between his teeth — not hard enough to break, hard enough to make her see white at the edges — while his eyes kept reading. "—'Mnghh — CANG — Master — hngh — please — my nipple—'"

He reached the bottom of the page.

His eyes stopped on the family portrait in the lower section. Round-faced woman, pleasantly pretty. Old fat elder husband. Small daughter on knee.

The corner of his mouth moved.

He set the document on Lin Yuxi's bent back — she was still shuddering from the nipple bite, forehead against his shoulder — using her as a desk with the casual ease of a man who considers the bodies around him available for any purpose he requires.

He finally looked toward the Queen.

She had not moved. She was still bent over the throne — still waiting, back arched, thick hips presented, belly hanging warm and full. The curve of her spine in that position was obscene. The patient, aching stillness of a woman who has been very well trained.

He crossed to her in three steps.

His cock was already thickening — not from effort, simply from the accumulated reality of her body in that position. By the time he pressed the fat head against her anal ring, he was half-hard and growing.

She felt it. Her breath changed instantly — faster, shallower.

"'Ahh—'" The anticipatory sound came out before contact. Just the pressure of him 'there', the blunt heat of the head pressing against the ring, was enough to—

He drove in.

Not slowly. All the way.

'PHACK.'

The Queen's face went blank.

Then her mouth fell open and her eyes rolled and her tongue touched her upper lip and she made a sound that was not a word and not a moan but something between them — raw and formless and pulled out of the deepest part of whatever she'd become this week.

"'HAAAANGHHT~!!'"

Her hips slammed back against him on reflex — the well-trained, involuntary slam of a body that had learned his rhythm over seven days of continuous use — making her own fat ass clap against his hips with a wet, obscene smack.

'PHACK.'

"'AAHNGHH~!! MA—MASTER—FINALLY—HNNGH~!!'"

The throne rocked. Her belly swung forward with the impact, pressing against the armrest, the weight of it pulling her further into the bend of the arch. Her massive tits, freed from their court armor by the bent position, swung pendulous beneath her, the nipple chain catching the throne's edge and swinging. Milk beaded immediately at both pierced peaks.

'Phack. Phack.'

"'Hngh~!! Oungh~!! HAANGHH~!!'"

Cang picked the document back up off Lin Yuxi's back with one hand, the other settling on the Queen's wide hip — not gripping for leverage, just resting. Ownership, not effort. His hips moved at a lazy, deep pace, each thrust sinking full-depth into her ass and withdrawing slowly, the ring dragging outward with each pull as if reluctant to release him.

He looked at the portrait again.

'Elder Dong's wife.' The round face. The pleasant expression. The old fat husband who clearly hadn't been enough.

"'Should I fuck you next,'" he said quietly, in the tone of a man addressing a photograph, "'my sweet little bitch?'"

Lin Yuxi pressed against his arm, her chain-linked nipples still throbbing from the bite, and looked at the portrait over his elbow. She recognized the woman — had met her twice at formal events. Soft-spoken. Devoted wife. Two kids.

Yuxi's pussy clenched.

"Her husband is Elder Dong," she said, voice husky. "He's very proud of her. Introduces her to everyone." A pause. "She has beautiful eyes."

Cang smiled at the page.

'Phack. PHACK.'

"'HIIEKK~!! AH—AH—MASTER—MY ASS—HAANGHH~!! DEEPER—PLEASE—AAANGHHT~!!'"

The Queen's ahegao had fully surfaced — tongue pressing past her lower lip, eyes hazed, every expression of dignity stripped clean. The bent-over position over her dead husband's throne. The pregnant belly hanging. The fat hips jiggling with each slam of his hips against her ass. The milk dripping from her swinging tits onto the throne's gold-inlaid footrest.

She was the Matriarch of the Lin Clan. She had just conducted a three-hour succession ceremony. She had looked seven experienced cultivators in the eye and made them believe she had everything under control.

She was currently getting fucked in the ass over her husband's throne by a man who was reading a different woman's file over her body.

"'Master'—" she sobbed, not in complaint, "'—please — I want — I want your cum — I've been waiting three hours — please cum in my ass — please—'"