Start? The word echoed in my mind like a distant thunderclap, stirring ripples across the frozen lake of my composure.
What depravity had I permitted by entering this den?
I, Elder Feng Lianhua, who had ascended through tribulations of lightning and flame, now lay exposed before this upstart—my sacred form reduced to a canvas for his vulgar lexicon.
Boob. Tits. Ass. Clit. Cunt.
Such base utterances, like mud splattered upon polished jade.
They grated against my senses, igniting a flicker of heat I could not name, a betrayal of the flesh I had long mastered.
Yet beneath the disdain, that unwelcome curiosity stirred—a crack in my frozen resolve, insidious as spring's first thaw.
This man... he presumed too much. He would learn the folly of challenging an elder, even if I must endure this farce to uncover his secrets.
He approached with that triumphant gleam in his eyes, hands no longer folded but reaching out with deliberate intent.
I remained still upon the silken bed, my pale skin prickling under the chamber's scented air, refusing to grant him the satisfaction of resistance.
My robes lay discarded nearby, my body bare and unyielding, a testament to centuries of disciplined cultivation.
The air was thick with forbidden incense, cloying and warm, but I held my breath steady, my voice emerging like winter's edge.
"What folly do you intend now? Your crude names change nothing. This body is a vessel of cultivation, not some plaything for beasts."
He chuckled, a low sound that vibrated through the room like distant thunder, his fingers tracing the curve of what he had called my "tits."
The touch was light at first, exploratory, sending an unwelcome spark through my core.
My breath hitched involuntarily, teeth clenching as I fought the urge to arch into it.
What was this? Not pain, but... something insidious, a pulsing ache that made my lower region—that "clit" he had flicked—throb in response.
It was nonsense, surely—a trick of his devilry.
Yet my body reacted, the nipple stiffening further under his gaze, a faint flush creeping across my marble-pale skin.
"Folly? No, Elder. Education. You've spent centuries denying this, thinking it's tainted. But watch—feel—what your body was made for."
Before I could retort, his mouth descended upon the hardened peak he had named "nipple."
Warmth enveloped it—his lips sealing around the sensitive flesh, sucking gently at first, then with increasing fervor.
The sensation was immediate and overwhelming, like a dormant meridian suddenly flooded with chaotic qi.
Heat bloomed from that point, spreading outward in waves that made my chest tighten and my breath shorten.
His tongue flicked the tip, swirling in lazy circles, each lap sending jolts down my spine that pooled in my lower abdomen.
I clenched my fists at my sides, willing my voice to remain steady, but a soft, involuntary gasp escaped—barely audible, yet humiliating in its betrayal.
Why did this feel... stirring? Lust was a folly for the weak, a mess of wailing and slapping flesh, entering tainted places like animals.
I had scorned it, yet here, my body responded, the nipple hardening into a taut bud under his insistent pull, a slick, wet sound filling the air as he drew upon it with rhythmic suction.
"You see?" he murmured against my skin, his voice muffled but laced with that mocking triumph, his breath hot and teasing as he released the nipple with a soft pop, leaving it glistening and swollen.
"This nipple—it's not just flesh. It's a switch, turning your pure body into a needy mess. Feel how it hardens, begging for more? That's your cunt clenching in response, Elder—your dirty, hidden hole tightening like it knows it's born to be filled."
Cunt? The word was filth, a degradation of the sacred gateway to life.
I clenched my jaw, willing my voice to remain steady.
"Such vulgarity demeans you more than me, fool. Cease this at once—I am no vessel for your base urges."
But even as I spoke, his hand trailed lower, fingers brushing the folds he had labeled so crudely.
A jolt shot through me, my hips twitching against my will, a slickness gathering there that I could not deny.
Unbidden, unwanted—why did my body moisten thus? It was as if the mist from before had returned, awakening parts I had ignored for eons.
The air grew heavier, the chamber's incense amplifying the strange warmth, making my skin prickle with an itch I could not scratch.
He ignored my protest, his fingers pressing inward, sliding into that warmth with a slow, deliberate intrusion.
The sensation was alien—a stretching fullness that made my breath catch, my walls contracting around him involuntarily.
His digits—two of them, thick and insistent—pushed deeper, parting my inner folds with a slick, obscene sound that echoed in the quiet room:
Schlk, schlk.
I felt every inch of the invasion, the way my untouched depths yielded reluctantly, a faint burn mixing with an unwelcome spark of something... electric.
My teeth ground together, suppressing a gasp as he began to move them, pumping rhythmically, curling to brush against a sensitive inner wall that sent tremors through my core.
"Ah, there it is," he continued, his tone instructional, almost mocking, as he worked his fingers faster.
"This is your pussy, Elder—wet and eager, even if you deny it. Feel how it clenches? That's your body admitting the truth. And look here—"
His free hand brushed the faint hairs above, tracing them like evidence in a trial, his touch light but deliberate, making me flinch.
"This hair on your pussy? It's proof you were born to be fucked. Nature's mark, showing you're meant for a man's cock, not some celibate tower of ice. See how it frames your dripping cunt, like an invitation? Every strand screams that this hole was designed to be stretched, filled, and bred."
Born to be... fucked? The phrase was abhorrent, a stain upon my cultivation path.
Power lay in purity, not this... this degradation.
Yet as his fingers curled within me, stroking that hidden point with increasing pressure, I felt my resolve fracture further.
The intrusion built a pressure I could not comprehend—each thrust of his digits sending slick, wet sounds reverberating through the chamber:
Schlk-schlk-schlk,
faster now, my inner walls clenching involuntarily around him, betraying me with every spasm.
Wetness coated his hand, dripping down my thighs in warm trails, and I could not deny the ache growing there, a throbbing need that made my hips shift ever so slightly, seeking more despite my horror.
His thumb found that nub again—the "clit"—and flicked it sharply, once, twice, each snap sending a bolt of fire through my veins.
I bit back a cry, my body arching off the bed, the sensation like lightning striking my core, making my "cunt" clench tighter around his invading fingers.
Why? Lust was nonsense, a tainted distraction—yet here, in this garish palace, it stirred something primal, cracking the ice of my resolve like spring's relentless advance.
"Feel that?" he taunted, his voice a low rumble as he flicked my clit again, harder this time, the pad of his thumb circling it in teasing spirals before pressing down firmly.
Each flick was a spark, igniting waves of heat that made my thighs quiver uncontrollably, my inner muscles spasming around his pumping fingers.
Schlk-schlk-schlk—
the rhythm grew relentless, his digits plunging deeper, curling to hit that sensitive spot over and over, while his thumb assaulted the nub with precise, torturous flicks.
"Your clit swells when I flick it like this—see how it throbs, begging for attention? That's your cunt clenching harder, Elder, sucking on my fingers like a greedy whore. And this hair..."
His fingers tangled lightly in the sparse curls above, tugging just enough to send a sharp twinge through me, mixing pain with that building fire.
"...it's evidence. Proof that from the moment you were born, this pussy was destined to be fucked raw. Not for some lofty cultivation—oh no. For a man like me to stretch it, fill it, make it drip with seed. Deny it all you want, but your body's honest—clenching, leaking, born for cock."
My teeth ground together, a low hiss escaping as the heat intensified, my body betraying me with every involuntary spasm.
"Enough... of your... depraved lessons," I gasped, though my voice wavered, the words less a command than a plea.
The flicks on my clit grew faster, each one building that coiling pressure, my "cunt" fluttering around his fingers as they fucked deeper, the wet schlk-schlk filling my ears like a shameful symphony.
Curiosity warred with disdain—what was this fire he ignited?
And why, despite everything, did a part of me yearn to understand more?
My hips bucked once, unbidden, chasing the sensation, and I hated myself for it.
This man... he had cracked something within me, and I feared the thaw would consume all.
Yet as his fingers drove on, flicking and plunging, the pressure built to a precipice I could not name, my body trembling on the edge of something terrifying and unknown.
He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear, fingers never slowing—their rhythm merciless, curling and thrusting while his thumb flicked my clit in rapid, teasing bursts.
"Admit it, Elder. Your cunt's clenching like it was made for this—hair framing it like a signpost, screaming 'fuck me.' Born to be pounded, filled, used. Feel how wet you are? That's not denial... that's destiny."
I could no longer speak, my voice lost to the rising tide, my body arching against my will as the world blurred into heat and sensation.
What had he done to me?