Ultimate Villain's Return as a Doctor in the Cultivation World-Chapter 255 - Banging On Display

She did not look at her attendants.

Her attendants did not look at each other.

He set Miran’s legs down.

Rolled her.

Not gently — the specific, both-hands, purposeful roll of someone repositioning material — and she went onto her side, one leg pulled up and forward, the other straight, and he entered her from behind in the side-lying position, chest against her back, his arm under her waist and his free hand at her chest.

The position was slow.

Not from restraint — from the specific, deliberate quality of someone who had decided that the current architecture was worth inhabiting at the pace that let him feel all of it, the full, deep, long-stroke quality of a position that allowed twelve inches of travel without acceleration.

She felt every single inch.

Every time.

"—Aaahn~... aaahn~... Immortal... it’s — it keeps going—" Not screaming, for the first time — the voice gone low and small and bewildered, the specific, barely-there quality of a girl whose volume had been used up and who was now communicating in the register that remained.

He kneaded her breast from behind.

The specific, full-palm, slow-squeeze quality of it — not the brutal pull from before, the patient, thorough kneading of someone who had the location and the time — and her nipple between his fingers, rolling, the slow warm friction of it layered on top of everything else.

"—Aaahn~... aaahn~... something is... it’s happening again—"

The light brightened.

Foundation Establishment Late.

The attendant who had been watching the breakthrough had both hands now pressed flat against the corridor wall and was looking through the window with the specific, I-am-not-moving quality of a woman who had decided the breakthrough was the reason she was here and was not examining the secondary reason too closely.

Her thighs were pressed together.

PAH PAH!

"—AAAHN~!!! HAANN~!!!—"

He drove harder — the slow pace ending the way all pauses end, with the decision to no longer pause — and Miran’s body received the shift from slow to hard with the specific, unready, whole-torso reaction of a body that had been lulled by the gentler rhythm and was now back at the full register.

"—AAAHN~!!! Immortal — please — I can’t — it’s too much — the qi — and your — both at once — I can’t—"

"—you can," he said.

PAH PAH PAAH!

"—AAAHN~!!! HAANN~!!! AAAHNN~!!!—"

An hour in.

He had moved her three more times.

She was on top of him now, facing away, her hands on his knees for support and his hands at her hips directing the pace — the reverse position, and the queen could see her face from the window at this angle, the specific, completely-undone quality of Miran’s expression visible in full, nothing concealed.

Her eyes were mostly closed.

The kind of closed where the lids had descended because the body had reassigned the energy that held them up to other priorities, and kept them closed except for the occasional, involuntary opening that came with the specific, arriving quality of each drive.

PAH PAH PAH!

"—AAAHN~!!! AAAHN~!!! HAANN~!!!—"

CLAP CLAP CLAP!

Her chest at this position — both of them forward and free, bouncing with each of her drops onto him, the specific, descent-and-impact, rise-and-fall quality of dense flesh doing what physics required during the specific activity in progress — and the trajectory of each bounce was visible from the corridor window, upward and forward on the descent, settling on the rise.

The queen’s senior attendant made a sound.

Very small.

Pressed both hands over her mouth immediately after.

The queen looked at her.

The attendant looked at the floor.

"—AAAHN~!!! It’s — my whole — every time I — HAANN~!!! — something keeps—"

The light cracked. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

Not the gentle breaching of before — the specific, violent, boundary-breaking crack of a cultivation base that had been pushed past Late into the specific, threshold moment of crossing between realms entirely, Foundation Establishment releasing into Core Formation the way a dam releases when the water has decided it is water and not stone, and the geometry simply resolves.

Miran’s back went rigid.

Her spine straightening off his chest, both arms throwing outward at her sides, the specific full-body seize of a breakthrough arriving at the Core Formation threshold — and the light that had been golden-warm turned white, the full-spectrum quality of Core Formation qi doing its reorientation, the guest bedroom filling with the visible shimmer of it.

"—KYAAANGHHH~!!! AAAHNNNN~~~~~!!!!—"

The sound she made was not entirely pain.

PAH PAH PAAH!

"—AAAHN~!!! I — it’s — HAANN~!!! — I’m—"

Core Formation Early.

The queen’s hand found her own belly and stayed there.

The second attendant left the window.

She had been standing at the back of the small group and she simply — departed, walking back down the corridor with the specific, brisk, I-have-somewhere-to-be quality of someone whose body had given her a piece of information she was going to address in private, and the sound of her sandals retreating faded.

Nobody commented.

PAH PAH PAH PAAH!

"—AAAHN~!!! AAAHN~!!! HAANN~!!! AAAHNNNN~!!!—"

He had moved her again.

She was standing now — both hands pressed flat to the headboard, face toward the wall, his hands at her hips from behind, and the driving in this position was the specific, full-stand, both-feet-on-mattress quality of the position, the whole length of each stroke visible in the way her body responded to it — forward with each drive, pressing toward the headboard, the press of her palms absorbing the force and the headboard absorbing the rest.

Her ass took every single one.

The dense, giantess-tribe weight of her, at this angle, the specific, standing-doggy geometry producing the flattest, most-direct impact surface, and the sound of it was the sound of a well-made room in a well-built palace discovering that its stone walls were very good at carrying vibration.

CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP!

"—AAAHN~!!! HAANN~!!! AHN~!!! AAAHN~!!!—"

The remaining attendant beside the queen had one hand against the corridor wall for balance.

She had stopped pretending to look at the breakthrough.

She was looking at the position.

Her lips were parted.

The queen was watching the light around Miran — Core Formation Early, still building, the cultivation base finding its new floor and already looking for the ceiling — and she was aware of her attendant’s state the way a queen is aware of everything in her immediate vicinity, which is completely and continuously.

She said nothing.

Her own hand was pressing against her belly with more pressure than the pregnancy required.

Ninety minutes.

He had taken her off the bed entirely.

She was against the wall — back to it, legs wrapped around his waist, both arms around his neck with the specific, holding-on-for-life quality of a girl whose legs had lost the architecture of independent function and had defaulted to the nearest available structure.

Her face was in his neck.

The sounds she was making now were not the previous sounds — not the screaming, not the crying, not the specific, first-time register of pain and overwhelm.

They were something else.

The specific, low, helpless, entirely-involuntary quality of sounds that a body makes when it has been taken past every threshold it knew about and has discovered that there are thresholds on the other side of those thresholds, and is now operating in territory for which it had no prior language.

"—Aaahn~... aaahn~... I can’t... stop... please don’t... aaahn~...—"