Lian's mind fogged, her hands dropping weakly. The hands that once swung the Dragon Halberd with fierce strength now hung limp. Her eyes rolled back, lips still wrapped around the horse's cock, saliva and thick semen leaking from her nose and mouth.
Each fresh spurt sent shivers through her body. The hot, sticky fluid coated her face, dripped down her slender neck, and soaked her collar, clothes, and armor.
"Pfft… cough cough!"
After what felt like forever, the softened cock slid from her lips. Lian spat out a glob of thick semen, which splattered the ground, pooling into a milky puddle.
Looking down, she saw her ruined state. The foul semen clung to her upper body, plastering her clothes to her skin. The warm, sticky fluid, laced with dragon blood, stayed hot even in the cool, damp forest.
Her mouth, throat, and stomach were filled with the taste and weight of it. Her armored belly felt slightly swollen, as if overstuffed.
"Ugh!"
Lian bent forward, trying to puke up the semen, but her body didn't reject it as much as she'd hoped. After gagging, she couldn't force it out.
"So disgusting…"
But as she recoiled, the thick cock rose again, its dark head swelling with menace.
Panicked, Lian scrambled from under the horse, grabbing water from her storage ring and splashing it over herself.
The cold water cooled her burning head but deepened her regret. Her wet clothes hugged her athletic frame, tracing her curves.
She poured more water, washing away the filth but not the ache in her heart.
Perhaps it wasn't just semen-laced water dripping, but her silent tears.
"Neigh!"
The black horse stepped closer, its eyes softer now, almost kind. It nuzzled her fingers, pulling her from her daze.
Seeing its new warmth, Lian felt a wave of sorrow and pain, her eyes stinging. She took a deep breath, the lingering semen scent in her nose and stomach anchoring her. Drying her clothes with magic, she stroked the horse's head, whispering, "Was this all…"
Worth it?
"It was worth it. It has to be…" she murmured.
Mounting the horse, which no longer pushed her away, it whinnied and raced off, leaving the place of her shame.
Only a pool of white semen on the ground silently bore witness.
---
In another place, Elder Mu lounged in a spiritual spring, floating like a lifeless fish.
Scratching his swollen, semen-heavy balls, he stared into the misty statues of the spring, restless.
He glanced toward Qing's direction, aching to run.
But an invisible wall stopped him. Knowing Qing wouldn't let him see her bare, Elder Mu sulked, soaking in the spring.
The warm spiritual energy sank into his skin, melting his tension into comfort.
The spring's liquid was a miracle, able to reshape meridians or spark breakthroughs. Even a mortal could be reborn with a drop. Yet here was Elder Mu, an old and ugly eunuch, wasting it, a sight that would make sect disciples cry.
He felt no rebirth, only ease. His pains faded, and he looked younger, his thin frame gaining muscle, shedding his half-dead look.
But soaking grew dull, and his lust flared. Scratching his head, he tried to peek into the depths but saw nothing.
Defeated, he spotted Qing's white dress on the shore, his eyes gleaming.
She hadn't stored her clothes in her ring. Was it a mistake, or… Elder Mu's mind turned lewd.
Creeping ashore, he checked for eyes, then touched Qing's clothes eagerly.
Though he couldn't see her body, her private garments might do.
Trembling with thrill, he pushed aside the outer robes, revealing a white bellyband and panties, his breath quickening.
His cock, massive at over thirty centimeters, surged beneath his bony frame, its red head throbbing.
With shaky hands, he lifted the bellyband, pressing his wrinkled face into it, breathing deeply.
Qing's floral, virgin scent hit him hard, rich and dizzying. The silky fabric felt heavenly, stirring images of her breasts. A faint milky smell, as if from her cleavage, spun his head, picturing her perfect, snow-white breasts, their scent like a sea of flowers, etched in his soul.
After a long sniff, he set it down, grabbing the panties.
This was his true prize: Qing's private panties!
His heart pounded, hands shaking.
Holding them like a holy relic, he opened them and inhaled.
Like a blooming garden, the scent was spring itself: roses, peonies, sweet and pure, with no hint of musk. It was a divine fragrance, washing his soul, filling him with honeyed sweetness, leaving him lost in bliss.
Slurp… slurp…
Unable to stop, he licked the fragrant fabric, his foul saliva staining the pure panties. Picturing Qing's secret place, his cock grew painfully hard, veins bulging.
He wrapped the panties around his rock-hard cock.
The silky fabric, woven from unknown silk, hugged his ridged cockhead and rough shaft. Imagining Qing's private place, he shuddered, the panties stretching tight around his massive cock.
Stroking with his claw-like hands, he rubbed the panties along his shaft, the cockhead bulging like a mushroom. His precum soaked the pure fabric, fueling his lust.
The sensation was electric, each stroke sending jolts through his body. The soft silk teased his sensitive skin, amplifying every touch. He groaned, picturing Qing's hips from earlier, her curves swaying in the spring. His grip tightened, the panties slick with his precum, sliding faster along his throbbing length. His balls churned, heavy with days of pent-up need, aching for release.
"Huff… huff… Qing… Princess…"
"Argh!"
Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!
Imagining his cock pressed against Qing's soft hips, he pictured her naked in the spring, her body far beyond the panties' touch. His balls tightened, unleashing a flood of thick, creamy semen. The foul fluid sprayed in heavy ropes, soaking the pure panties, staining them with globs of congealed, sticky cum, like melted wax.
"Huff… oh no!"
After the rush, panic hit, though his cock stayed hard. Staring at the ruined panties, he feared Qing's rage.
Glancing at the misty spring, he scrambled to clean his mess.
He laid the panties in the warm spring, scrubbing the stubborn semen.
Bits of white fluid floated into the spring's depths, blending with the spiritual mist.
Deep in the spring, Qing, naked and meditating under a statue, absorbed the tainted energy. Her steady breaths faltered, her snowy skin blushing pink.
A red aura swirled with her magic, wrapping the yin-yang fish around the statue.
The fish's black-and-white eyes flashed red, their energies growing distinct yet separate.
Yang alone cannot thrive, nor yin alone endure!
Yin and yang unite, birthing creation!
The yang fish silently shot into Elder Mu's forehead, sinking into his spirit.
At that moment, a thunderous roar shook the Spirit Mountain Realm's depths.
"Curse! Curse! Curse!"
Yuanwu Jun's immortal corpse stirred!
A tender sprout, growing from the demonic corpse's chest, began to take root.