The afternoon sun burned with an oppressive, golden intensity over the Isle of Whispering Petals, hanging low and heavy in the sky like a giant, unblinking eye. The humidity was thick enough to taste, a damp, cloying heat that made the air shimmer above the intricate stone pathways and turned the distant horizon into a haze of blue and white. While the majority of the sect’s disciples sought refuge in the cool, subterranean meditation grottoes or the climate-controlled interiors of the alchemy halls to escape the sweltering temperature, Wang Jian found himself pacing the polished floors of the Cloud-Peak Pavilion, a restless energy coiling in his gut that no amount of meditation could quell.

He stood by the wide, arched window, his hands clasped behind his back, looking out toward the lush, verdant valley nestled securely behind the main peak. It was a secluded paradise, a natural depression in the island’s geography that was choked with Spirit-Bamboo—emerald stalks that grew taller than houses, swaying gently in the wind and creating a natural, rustling curtain. Hidden deep within that green labyrinth lay the sect’s most precious natural resource: the Spirit Water Springs.

These were not merely geothermal vents heating groundwater; they were fed by a subterranean dragon-vein of pure water-attribute spiritual energy that had percolated through miles of spirit-ore before bubbling to the surface. Bathing in them was a luxury reserved for the elite. The water could cleanse the marrow of impurities, soothe the violent backlash of unstable cultivation, and heighten the sensitivity of the skin and meridians to ambient Qi. It was a restricted area, a sanctuary of silence and purity, usually reserved for Elders and high-ranking disciples who had contributed greatly to the sect’s prosperity.

Wang Jian watched the steam rising above the bamboo tops, and a slow, predatory smile curved his lips. The administrative silence of the pavilion was boring him. He craved entertainment. He craved the feeling of dominance.

‘It has been a few days since I broke her in the Grand Hall,’ he thought, his eyes narrowing as he calculated the resilience of his victim. ‘Her body is strong. As a Middle-Stage Core Formation cultivator, her recovery capabilities are immense. She should be recovered enough to walk… and to serve.’

He touched his storage ring, a flicker of spiritual energy retrieving a high-grade communication jade slip. He held the cool, smooth stone in his hand, infusing his spiritual will into it. He didn’t just send a message; he sent a command, wrapped in the velvet threat of exposure.

‘Sect Leader,’ his mental voice projected, smooth and imperious. ‘The heat today is stifling. I find myself in need of a thorough cleansing, both of body and spirit. The Spirit Water Springs call to me. Meet me there in the secluded ‘Heavenly Mist’ pool—the one highest up the cliff. Bring a jug of the Hundred-Year Jade-Dew Wine. And Yimei… wear the white silk robe. The translucent one. Wear nothing underneath. I want no barriers between us today.’

He flicked his wrist, sending the message flying through the air. It streaked across the sky like an invisible arrow, bypassing the protective wards of the Orchid Palace to seek its target.

Deep within the cool, shadowed sanctum of the Orchid Palace, Hua Yimei sat in a meditative trance atop a cushion of woven spirit-grass. She was attempting to repair the damage to her dignity, circulating her Qi in a desperate bid to flush the lingering, phantom sensation of Wang Jian’s touch from her skin. Her body still ached with a dull, throbbing memory of the morning’s session on the throne—the way her hips had been bruised by the armrests, the soreness between her legs that no amount of healing salve seemed to fully erase.

When the message arrived, vibrating against her consciousness, her eyes snapped open. A tremor of absolute dread ran through her, disrupting her cultivation cycle and causing her aura to flicker chaotically.

The springs? In the middle of the afternoon?

Her heart hammered against her ribs. The Heavenly Mist pool was secluded, yes, but it was still part of the sect’s open grounds. It wasn’t sealed behind the heavy doors of a palace or hidden in a dark cave. The sky above it was open. The cliffs around it were patrolled.

‘Master…’ she sent back, her mental voice trembling, laced with panic and a desperate plea for reason. ‘Please, not there. That area is not private. It is reserved for high-ranking disciples and visiting envoys. If I go there… if we are seen… the scandal would destroy the sect. Please, let me come to the Pavilion instead. I will do anything you ask, just not in the open.’

Wang Jian’s reply was instantaneous, cold, and brooked no argument. ‘Then you better hope your disciples know when to look away. Scandal is a powerful motivator, Yimei. If you are not there in ten minutes, I will come to the Palace again. And this time, I will drag you out by your hair, strip you naked in the central plaza, and take you there. Do not test my patience.’

Hua Yimei closed her eyes, a hot tear leaking out and tracking down her cheek. She had no choice. She realized, with a heavy finality, that she never had a choice anymore. Her will belonged to him as much as her body did.

She rose, her legs feeling heavy as if she were wading through mud. She went to her private stores, her hands shaking as she retrieved a heavy, sealed jug of the Jade-Dew Wine—a treasure worth thousands of spirit stones, now reduced to a prop for his amusement. Then, she moved to her wardrobe.

She stripped off her repaired ceremonial robes, letting the heavy silk fall to the floor. The cool air of her chamber touched her naked skin, causing her nipples to harden—a traitorous reaction that made her flush with shame. She caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length bronze mirror. The red handprints on her buttocks had faded to faint bruises, the bite mark on her neck was hidden by her hair, but the slight swelling of her breasts from his rough handling was undeniable. She looked like a woman who had been thoroughly used, her body softening, opening, adapting to the demands of her master.

With a shaking hand, she reached for the garment he had specified. It was a simple, single-layer robe made of the finest celestial silk worm thread. It was white, pure, and painfully thin. When dry, it was modest. When wet, it would turn transparent, clinging to every curve like a second skin.

She donned the robe, tying the sash loosely around her waist. She wore no undergarments, feeling the strange, breezy vulnerability of her nakedness beneath the silk.

She took a back path out of the palace, using a high-level stealth technique to mask her presence and suppress her aura. She moved like a ghost through the bamboo groves, flitting from shadow to shadow, her heart in her throat every time a bird called out or a leaf rustled. She felt like a thief in her own home, stealing away to commit a crime against her own dignity.

The Heavenly Mist pool was the highest of the spring pools, nestled against a sheer, mossy cliff face that acted as a natural amphitheater. Steam rose in thick, curling clouds from the surface, obscuring the water and creating a dreamlike, hazy atmosphere.

When she arrived, breathless and terrified of being spotted by the perimeter guards, she pushed through the bamboo curtain and found Wang Jian already there.

He was naked, lounging in the shallow end of the pool with the arrogant ease of a dragon in its lair. His back rested against a smooth, moss-covered rock, his arms spread along the rim of the pool, exposing the expanse of his muscular chest which glistened with moisture and sweat. The water was crystal clear, a vibrant turquoise that did absolutely nothing to hide his powerful body beneath the surface.

He opened one eye as she stepped through the bamboo, his gaze lazy but heavy with intent.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice cutting through the sound of bubbling water.

“I… I had to avoid a patrol near the disciple quarters,” Hua Yimei whispered, scanning the cliffs above frantically, her eyes darting like a trapped animal. “Please… let’s be quick. If we are caught…”

Wang Jian laughed, the sound echoing off the rocks and making her flinch. “Quick? You know me better than that, Yimei. Why would I rush when I have the Sect Leader all to myself in such a paradise? Get in.”

Hua Yimei hesitated on the edge of the pool. The sunlight felt like a spotlight, searing her skin. Every rustle of the bamboo leaves sounded like a disciple approaching to discover her shame.

“Drop the robe,” he commanded, his eyes dropping to her waist.

She untied the sash with trembling fingers. The knot came undone. She shrugged her shoulders, and the white silk slid down her arms with a soft hiss, pooling at her feet like a puddle of milk.

She stood naked under the open sky.

Her voluptuous body glowed in the sunlight—her wide, child-bearing hips, her flat stomach that betrayed the hidden strength of a Core Formation cultivator, and those massive, heavy breasts that Wang Jian was so obsessed with. They hung low and heavy, swaying slightly with her uneven breathing, tipped with large, dark pink nipples that were already hardening in the breeze, betraying her arousal despite her fear.

Wang Jian stared at her, his eyes darkening with appreciation and hunger. “Magnificent. You are a masterpiece of flesh, Yimei. A true cow ripe for milking.”

She stepped into the water. The heat wrapped around her ankles, then her calves, then her thighs, a sensuous embrace that relaxed her tense muscles against her will. She waded towards him, the water level rising. As she went deeper, the natural buoyancy of the spirit water lifted her massive breasts, making them float on the surface like two pale, beautiful islands.

She reached him, the water lapping at her waist. Wang Jian didn’t move to embrace her. He pointed a wet finger to the wine jug she was clutching to her chest like a shield.

“I’m thirsty,” he said. “Feed me.”

Hua Yimei uncorked the jug, the scent of potent spiritual alcohol filling the air. She moved to pour it into a jade cup floating nearby on a wooden tray.

“No,” Wang Jian stopped her, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist. “Not like that. That is how a servant serves a guest. I want a woman serving her man.”

He reached out and grabbed her waist, pulling her down so she was kneeling in the water between his spread legs. Her breasts bobbed right in front of his face, glistening with droplets of water.

“Pour it on yourself,” he ordered, his voice thick with lust. “Let it run down your tits. I want to drink it off your skin. I want to taste your essence mixed with the wine.”

Hua Yimei bit her lip, humiliation burning her cheeks hotter than the steam. But she obeyed. She lifted the heavy jug with both hands. She tilted it.

The amber liquid, cold and sweet, splashed onto her chest. It ran down her collarbones, pooling in the deep, pressurized valley of her cleavage, and cascaded over the swell of her massive breasts. The wine slicked her skin, making it shine like polished marble in the sun.

Wang Jian leaned forward. He didn’t use his hands. He buried his face in her cleavage, lapping up the wine with his tongue like a starving animal. He licked the hollow of her throat, chasing the rivulets of liquid, his stubble grazing her sensitive skin.

“Delicious,” he groaned against her skin, the vibration sending shivers down her spine. “Sweet and musky.”

He moved lower. He captured her right nipple in his mouth, sucking hard, drawing the wine and her own flavor into him. His tongue swirled around the large areola, teasing the sensitive nub until Hua Yimei gasped, her back arching involuntarily, her hands gripping his shoulders for support.

“Mmm…” she moaned, the sound escaping before she could stop it. Despite her fear of discovery, the sensation of his hot mouth on her breast, the suction, the teeth grazing her nipple sent bolts of liquid fire straight to her groin. Her cultivation base, shackled to his Yang energy, roared in response, heating her blood.

He switched to the other breast, biting down gently, pulling the flesh into his mouth. He drank the wine mixed with the sweat of her fear, savoring the cocktail of emotions.

“Put the jug down,” he murmured, releasing her nipple with a wet pop that sounded obscenely loud to her ears.

She set the wine on the pool’s edge, her hands shaking.

“Now,” Wang Jian said, leaning his head back against the rock, exposing his throat. “Clean me. Prepare me for entry.”

He spread his legs underwater, inviting her.

Hua Yimei knew what he wanted. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the humid air, and submerged.

Under the water, the world was silent and blue. The spirit water stung her eyes slightly as she opened them. She saw him. His massive cock was floating half-erect in the water, thick and imposing, a dormant beast waiting to be woken.

She moved forward, her hair floating around her like a halo of black seaweed, obscuring her face. She took him into her mouth.

Wang Jian watched from above. He saw the surface of the water ripple and disturb as she worked. He could see the blurred shape of her head bobbing between his thighs, the pale flash of her skin. He felt the suction, the incredible heat of her mouth contrasting with the hot water of the spring. It was a surreal, exquisite sensation—the Sect Leader of the Fragrance Melody Sect, drowning in his pleasure beneath the surface.

She surfaced a minute later, gasping for air, water streaming down her beautiful face, her eyes red-rimmed but darkened with arousal.

Wang Jian grabbed her by the wet hair and pulled her up for a kiss. He tasted the spring water, the wine, and his own musk on her lips. He kissed her deeply, brutally, stealing her breath, forcing his tongue past her lips to dominate her mouth.

“You are getting better at that,” he whispered, breaking the kiss but keeping his face inches from hers. “You are learning your place.”

He stood up. The water cascaded off his body like a waterfall. His cock was now fully erect, a pillar of iron pointing at her, pulsing with veins.

“Turn around,” he commanded.

Hua Yimei turned, her movements sluggish with desire and fear. She faced the rock wall of the pool.

“Bend over the rock.”

She complied. She placed her forearms on the smooth, wet stone, the moss cool against her skin. She arched her back, sticking her heavy, curvy buttocks out. Her massive breasts hung down, swaying slightly with her movements, their tips grazing the water.

Wang Jian stepped up behind her. The water came up to his waist.

He placed his hands on her wide hips, his thumbs pressing deep into the soft flesh, anchoring her. He lined himself up with her wet, swollen entrance.

SPLOSH.

He drove into her in one smooth, unyielding thrust, burying himself to the hilt.

“Ahhh!” Hua Yimei cried out, her voice echoing off the cliff face, startling a flock of spirit-birds from the trees.

The sensation was overwhelming. The hot water swirling around their genitals, the cool breeze on her back, and the sheer, impossible fullness of him stretching her… it was too much. She felt him hit her deepest point instantly.

Wang Jian began to move. He set a slow, grinding pace that emphasized the friction.

Slap. Splash. Slap.

The sound of his hips hitting her buttocks was wet and loud. The water churned around them, creating waves that lapped against the rock.

“Scream, Yimei,” Wang Jian taunted, leaning down to bite her shoulder, his teeth scraping the bone. “Let the birds hear you. Let the disciples know their Sect Leader is getting bred like a bitch in the holy springs.”

Hua Yimei shoved her fist into her mouth, biting her own knuckles to stifle her cries. “Please…” she whimpered around her hand, tears mixing with the pool water on her face. “Someone will hear… have mercy…”

“Mercy?” Wang Jian chuckled, thrusting harder. “Why would you want mercy when your pussy is clamping down on me so hard? You want this. Your body is begging for it.”

Suddenly, voices drifted down from the cliff path above. The sound of crunching gravel and light, feminine laughter.

“Did you hear that the Young Mistress brought back a Sea-Core?” a young female voice chirped, clear as a bell in the mountain air.

“Yes! And I heard Head Elder Wang is planning to refine a breakthrough pill!” another answered. “The Sect Leader must be so proud.”

Hua Yimei froze. Her heart stopped beating. The disciples were walking right above them. They were perhaps twenty feet up, separated only by a few bushes and the angle of the cliff. If they looked over the edge… if they just glanced down…

Terror, cold and absolute, paralyzed her. Her internal muscles clamped down on Wang Jian’s cock like a vice, trying to hold him still, trying to stop the motion that might give them away.

Wang Jian felt her panic. He felt the tightness, the way her body gripped him in sheer terror. And he smiled—a wicked, exhilarating smile of a man who thrived on danger.

He didn’t stop. He didn’t hide.

Instead, his aura flared. He channeled his Stellar Qi, but not to attack. He expanded it outward, creating a thin, shimmering dome around them. It was a Stellar Mirage Barrier. To anyone looking down, the pool would appear empty, just steam and rippling water. The sounds they made would be dampened, trapped inside the bubble.

But he didn’t tell her that.

To Hua Yimei, they were completely, utterly exposed.

“Don’t stop,” Wang Jian whispered in her ear, his voice calm and terrifying. “If you stop, I’ll shout. I’ll call them down here to scrub my back.”

He thrust into her. Hard.

“Mmph!” Hua Yimei convulsed, terror and pleasure warring in her brain. She was being fucked in the open, with her disciples feet away, and this man was pounding her without a care in the world. The adrenaline spiked her arousal to painful levels.

“They are talking about me,” Wang Jian whispered, grinding his hips in a circle, hitting her prostate with deliberate cruelty. “They admire me. They think I am a saint. What would they think if they saw you now? Ass in the air, drool on your chin, taking my cock deep inside you while they discuss sect politics?”

“No… no…” tears streamed down her face. She felt like she was splitting apart.

The voices above continued. “The Sect Leader is so wise. She has guided us through the darkness. I hope to be as dignified as her one day.”

“She is the pillar of our sect.”

The irony was a physical pain, sharper than any blade. Hua Yimei listened to their praise while being balls-deep in Wang Jian’s cock, her ass in the air, being used like a toy. She wasn’t dignified. She was a slave to her own lust and his power.

Wang Jian reached down and smacked her wet buttocks.

SMACK.

The sound was loud inside the barrier, a thunderclap of flesh on flesh.

“Move back,” he ordered. “Push back against me. Show me how much you love your pillar.”

Terrified that he would drop the act if she disobeyed, terrified that he would dispel whatever luck was keeping them hidden, Hua Yimei began to move her hips. She pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts. She rode him, terrified and aroused, her body slick with sweat and water.

The footsteps above faded. The disciples moved on, oblivious to the desecration happening below.

Hua Yimei collapsed against the rock, sobbing with relief, her legs trembling so hard the water rippled around her. “They’re gone… they’re gone…”

“You clenched too hard,” Wang Jian scolded playfully, nipping at her ear. “You nearly crushed me. You need to be punished for that lack of control. And besides… look at you.”

He ran a hand over her breast. “Your nipples are hard as stone. You enjoyed the risk, didn’t you, slut?”

“No!” she denied, though her body betrayed her.

“Liar,” he growled. “Now that they are gone, I don’t have to hold back. Prepare yourself.”

He picked up the pace to a brutal level. He fucked her with animalistic intensity. The water churned violently, turning into white froth around their hips. He pounded her against the rock, not caring about the bruises.

He grabbed her hair, pulling her head back so she was looking up at the sky, her throat exposed.

“Cum for me,” he roared. “Empty yourself!”

Hua Yimei screamed, her voice raw and guttural. Her body convulsed, waves of intense pleasure shattering her fear. She climaxed hard, her vision going white, her legs shaking so bad she almost slipped into the deep water.

Wang Jian groaned, driving deep. He released his first load inside her, pumping wave after wave of his potent Yang essence into her womb.

She sagged against the rock, expecting him to pull out, expecting a respite.

But he didn’t soften. He didn’t withdraw.

He stayed inside her, his cock pulsing, remaining rock hard, anchored in her depths.

Hua Yimei felt it. She slumped against the rock, panting, her heart racing. “You… you finished… please…”

“Did I say I was done?” Wang Jian asked, his breath hot on her neck. “That was just the appetizer. The wine has barely kicked in.”

He pulled her back from the rock. He spun her around in the water so she was facing him.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he ordered.

Hua Yimei looked at him with exhausted, pleading eyes. She wasn’t surprised. She knew his appetite. In the cave, he had gone for days. One round was nothing to him. And deep down, a dark, shameful part of her didn’t want him to stop. Her cultivation was singing with the influx of his energy.

“Master…” she whispered. “I’m tired… my legs…”

“The water supports you,” he said, lifting her effortlessly by her hips.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, crossing her ankles behind his back. He held her up, his large hands cupping her heavy buttocks, squeezing the flesh.

He walked them deeper into the pool, until the water was up to his chest. Her breasts floated on the surface, bumping against his chest, soft and wet.

He began to bounce her up and down on his cock.

The friction of the water and the skin was maddening. Every downward slide filled her completely; every upward bob left her aching for more.

“Look at your tits,” Wang Jian said, mesmerized by the sight. “They float like buoys. So heavy. So perfect.”

He reached out and grabbed them. He pushed them together, sandwiching his own face between them. He motorboated her, blowing air against her wet skin, making her squeal with a mix of shock and pleasure.

He pulled back, his eyes gleaming. He slid his cock out of her pussy with a wet pop.

“Between them,” he said.

He positioned the head of his massive cock in her cleavage. “Squeeze them together. Use them.”

Hua Yimei obeyed. She used her arms to push her massive breasts together, creating a deep, tight tunnel of soft, wet flesh.

Wang Jian thrust into her cleavage. It was tight, hot, and incredibly soft. He fucked her tits, the head of his cock popping out at the top to brush her chin before sliding back down into the valley of flesh.

“So soft,” he groaned. “Better than silk. Better than anything.”

He grabbed her nipple with his teeth and pulled, thrusting his hips against her chest.

Hua Yimei moaned, her head falling back into the water, her hair fanning out. She felt like a tool, a sex doll designed for his pleasure. But the feeling of his body against hers, the heat of the water, the sheer dominance he exuded… it silenced her mind.

Suddenly, he pulled away from her breasts and plunged back into her pussy, catching her off guard.

“Ahhh!” She cried out, clinging to him.

He fucked her floating in the water for another hour. He carried her around the pool, exploring every angle. He pressed her back against the bamboo wall, the stalks scratching her skin as he pounded into her. He laid her on the shallow steps, the water lapping at her vulva as he entered her from above, watching the water swirl around their connection.

He made her climax again and again. Five times. Ten times. She lost count. She was a sobbing, moaning mess of pleasure and exhaustion, her mind completely blank, reduced to a creature of sensation.

“Please… Master… I can’t…” she begged, her voice hoarse. “I’m empty…”

“You can,” he assured her, thrusting deep. “Your cultivation loves my essence. Feel it? Feel your dantian spinning? You are getting stronger, Yimei. Every thrust makes you stronger.”

She could. That was the worst part. Every time he filled her, her cultivation base stabilized. Her power grew. She was becoming addicted to his cock not just for pleasure, but for power. It was a symbiotic parasitism.

Finally, as the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of violet and orange, Wang Jian felt his final release approaching.

He carried her back to the rock where they had started. He sat down on the submerged stone shelf, pulling her onto his lap facing away from him.

He wrapped his arms around her, his hands covering her massive breasts entirely, his fingers digging in.

“Mine,” he whispered into her ear. “All mine.”

He drove upwards, burying himself as deep as humanly possible, hitting the entrance to her womb.

He erupted. A massive, scalding load of semen flooded her. It mixed with the pool water inside her, a feeling of absolute fullness and heat.

He held her there as he came, his body shuddering against hers, cementing his claim.

Silence returned to the valley, save for the bubbling of the springs and their heavy breathing.

Hua Yimei slumped against him, her head on his shoulder. She felt completely drained, hollowed out, and refilled.

Wang Jian kissed her wet shoulder. “Good girl.”

He didn’t move to get out. He stayed inside her, letting himself soften slowly, prolonging the connection.

“We should… go back,” Hua Yimei whispered, her eyes closed. “Before nightfall.”

“In a moment,” Wang Jian said, his hand idly stroking her wet breast, flicking the nipple. “I’m enjoying the view.”

He looked at the water, swirling with the fluids of their union—wine, sweat, semen, and spring water. He looked at the Sect Leader, naked and boneless in his arms.

“You will never look at these springs the same way again,” he murmured. “Every time you come here to meditate… you will remember my cock inside you. You will remember the fear of the disciples seeing you. You will get wet just stepping into the water. This place is haunted by me now.”

Hua Yimei shuddered. She knew he was right. He had tainted the sanctuary. He had tainted everything. Nowhere was safe.

Finally, he withdrew. The loss of him left an aching emptiness that her body immediately tried to clench against.

He stood up and climbed out of the pool. He didn’t offer her a hand. He expected her to follow.

She dragged herself out of the water, water streaming from her body. She felt heavy, gravity reclaiming her limbs. She shivered in the cooling evening air.

He threw her the white silk robe. “Cover yourself.”

She dressed with shaking hands. The wet silk clung to her body, transparent in places, hiding nothing. Her nipples pressed against the fabric, and the dark triangle between her legs was clearly visible.

Wang Jian dressed in his dry robes. He looked impeccable, untouched, as if he had just finished a pleasant stroll.

He walked over to her. He reached out and buttoned the top of her robe, his fingers brushing her neck, lingering on a bruise he had made.

“Go back to the Palace,” he ordered. “Rest. You have a big day tomorrow. I hear the Elders want to discuss expansion.”

He smirked, leaning in close. “And Yimei?”

She looked up at him, her eyes dull and defeated.

“Don’t wash inside,” he said. “Let my essence soak in. It’s good for your cultivation. If I find out you purged it… we will have another session in the Grand Hall.”

He turned and walked away, disappearing into the bamboo grove, leaving her standing alone in the fading light, filled with his seed, broken and bound, staring at the tainted water of the spring.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep