6kv Chapter 301- Overwhelmed to the Extreme
Chapter 301- Overwhelmed to the Extreme
Not for herself. She’d stopped saying please for herself weeks ago.
For the servant, maybe. Or for Yuxi. Or simply because the word was the only thing her ruined voice could produce that still meant something.
Cang looked at her.
His hips kept their rhythm. The bottle kept its angle.
"’Gluck — GGKK~!! — gluck—’"
"’HAANGHH~!! — it’s — Master — it’s all inside me now — the wine — I can feel it — warm — HIEEKK~!! — why — why does it—’"
The bottle was almost empty.
The remaining wine pushed forward with gravity and his hand’s angle, the last dark pour running through the servant’s stretched, bloody, overwhelmed entrance and down through her thighs in a long, thin stream that landed directly on Yuxi’s upturned face — on her open lips, her tongue, the bridge of her nose — warm and sharp and sweetly wrong.
"’Mngh—’" Yuxi swallowed. Reflex.
She tasted wine and blood and the servant’s body and her mother on his cock all at once, and something behind her eyes went very white and very still for one moment.
Then came back.
"’GLUCK — HAAGH — GLUCK~!! — Master — Master — I can’t — GGKK~!! — it’s too — AAAAHNGHH~!!’" Her hands flew from his thighs to her own breasts, clutching them hard, the nipple chain swinging violently, her pierced peaks pulling with the motion as she cried around his cock and swallowed and cried again.
"’HAAAIYAANGHH~!! — MASTER — I’M — THE BOTTLE — I’M — AH — AH — AAAAAHNGHHT~!!’"
The servant came.
Not with elegance. Not with any of the composed restraint that eighteen years of palace service had installed in her. It was ugly and full-body and completely involuntary — her hips slamming forward against the bottle, her back arching off Yuxi’s stomach, her hands releasing the sheets to fly uselessly upward, her voice cracking into a formless wail that had no words in it.
Wine and blood and her own arousal soaked the sheets beneath her in a spreading warmth.
Yuxi’s face received the full consequence of all of it.
"’MNGHH~!! — GLUCK — HAAGH~!!’"
Cang pulled from Yuxi’s throat in one clean motion.
The withdrawal left a string of saliva from her lips to his cock that broke mid-air. Yuxi coughed — once, sharp — and then gasped, chest heaving, her face completely, irreparably wrecked. Wet from wine and tears and the servant’s body and her own saliva, her eyes streaming, her lips swollen, her nipple chain swinging against her heaving ribs as she dragged air back into her lungs.
She looked beautiful in the way that things look beautiful when they are completely, absolutely spent.
He looked down at the servant.
She lay with the empty wine bottle still inside her — barely, just the neck, her body having accepted what it had no choice but to accept and was now trembling through the aftershocks of something that had arrived without her permission and was apparently not finished leaving yet. Her thighs shook in small, rapid pulses. Her face was wet. Her inner garment was pushed entirely aside and would never be the same garment again.
She had stopped crying.
She hadn’t started doing anything else yet.
She just lay there, breathing, in the particular stillness of a person who has just had their entire understanding of their own body revised in approximately four minutes.
Cang looked at the empty bottle.
He set it aside.
He looked at the Queen, who had been lying beneath Yuxi’s weight through all of this with her empty pussy clenching in steady, involuntary protest and her eyes fixed on him with the expression she always wore now — stripped, complete, his.
"’Master,’" she said. Just the word. Everything else that needed saying was already in it.
He ignored her and looked at freshly deflowered pussy before nudging his cockhead over it and simply, plung d his hips inside tigut maid’s pussy making her scream.
PHACKKK!!
"’HAANGHH~!!’"
’Phack. Phack. PHACK.’
"’HAAAIYAANGHH~!! MASTER — MY PUSSY — IT WILL TEAR — AH — AH — AAAAAHNGHHT~!!’"
The maid’s scream hit the cabin ceiling and bounced back down.
It wasn’t the polished, almost musical cry she’d produced around the wine bottle — this was something rawer, torn from a place deeper than performance, the sound of a body receiving its first real cock after eighteen years of having no frame of reference for what that meant.
PHACK.
"HAAAANGHHT~!! — IT’S — TOO BIG — MASTER — IT’S — MY PUSSY — IT’S SPLITTING — PLEASE — AH — AH — HAANGHH~!!"
He had lowered himself fully over the three women.
His body covered them like a landslide. Both forearms planted on either side of the arrangement, his chest pressing down across the maid’s torso, his weight distributing across all three bodies — the maid beneath him taking the direct thrust, Yuxi sandwiched in the middle with the maid’s ass pressed against her mouth and the back of her skull rubbing against the Queen’s soaked pussy with every forward roll of his hips, and the Queen at the bottom of it all with her daughter’s full weight pressing into her post-birth belly and the vibration of every thrust traveling down through two bodies into hers like seismic waves.
The maid’s thighs were pinned open under him.
She had nowhere to go. She had tried going somewhere — her legs had kicked outward on the first thrust, her heels scrabbling against the sheets, her hands flying up to push at his chest — and found the same immovable resistance she’d found every time anything in this room had tried to resist him.
Her hands dropped back to the sheets.
Her legs stopped kicking.
Her body accepted the information it was being given.
Phack. Phack.
"MNGHH~!! — AH — AH — IT HURTS — IT STILL HURTS — WHY IS IT — HAANGHH~!! — SO DEEP — MASTER — PLEASE — JUST A LITTLE SLOWER — JUST—"
PHACK.
"HIEEKK~!! — MY CERVIX — MASTER — YOU’RE — SOMETHING IS — AAAAHNGHH~!!"
He was twelve inches now. The growth had happened gradually over the past days — each woman’s body pushed further, accommodated more, trained to wider and deeper until his cock had answered the demand. The maid’s virgin pussy had taken eight inches before her cervix had stopped him. He had pressed through the stop.
The cervix had not been designed to be pressed through.
It had happened anyway.
"AH — AH — SOMETHING TORE — SOMETHING — MASTER — I CAN FEEL — INSIDE — HAAAANGHHT~!! — IT’S TOO DEEP — IT’S — I CAN FEEL YOUR COCK INSIDE MY WOMB — PLEASE — PLEASE — IT’S — AAAAHNGHH~!!"
Her back arched under his weight. Her small breasts pressed flat against his chest, nipples dragging against his skin with each thrust, her tears running sideways off her temples into her hair in two continuous streams.
Beneath her, Lin Yuxi’s face was pressed firmly against the maid’s freshly deflowered pussy from below — the maid’s ass sitting directly on her chin, the warmth and the wet and the blood and the arousal of the girl above her smearing across her nose and lips with every downward slam of Cang’s hips pressing the maid’s whole body down.
"Mnghh — MPHHFF~!! — gluck—"
Yuxi’s breathing was fully obstructed every few seconds by the maid’s weight. She breathed when she could. She tasted what was above her.
Her hands found the maid’s hips and pressed them closer without thinking — the trained, automatic response of a woman who had learned over two weeks that closeness was the correct answer.
Her own head rubbed against her mother’s pussy with every thrust.
The Queen’s thighs were on either side of Yuxi’s head. Each time Cang’s twelve inches drove down into the maid, the force traveled through the maid’s body into Yuxi, and through Yuxi’s skull into the Queen’s spread cunt — not penetration, not quite, but the pressure and friction of her daughter’s head moving against her most sensitive flesh in a rhythm she had not chosen and could not stop.
"Haangh~... mnghh~... hngh~..."