Through Douluo: The Different Lewd Douluo

Tang San’s eyes snapped open to a canopy of coarse linen above a narrow cot. The faint reek of cheap lamp oil and unwashed bodies clung to the air. He lay still, letting the fragmented memories of the original occupant wash over him like warm, murky water. A weak-willed youth, bullied and beaten, with only a vague dream of becoming a soul master. But beneath that surface, Tang San found something far more interesting.

The boy’s memories were laced with glimpses—furtive, stolen sights of the women around him. A servant girl bending over a washbasin, the curve of her neck exposed. A noblewoman’s hips swaying through the marketplace, her silks clinging to every contour. The original Tang San had been too timid to act, but his eyes had been hungry. And now, with the soul of a man who had lived once before, that hunger had a sharper edge.

He sat up slowly, rolling his shoulders. His new body was small, but the foundation of spirit power already hummed within him. The Blue Silver Grass—pathetic in the eyes of others—was already a tool in his mind. Every plant had its uses. Every person had their weaknesses. And in this world, from what he could piece together, the carnal appetites of the powerful were no secret.

The original’s memories had shown him visions: a noble’s soirée where drinks flowed and hands wandered freely; a wandering soul master who boasted of the beauties he’d tasted in every city. This Douluo Continent was a place of raw strength and raw desire. The strong took what they wanted, and the weak were merely playthings waiting to be claimed.

Tang San’s lips curled. He liked this world already.

---

Morning light filtered through the grimy windows of Notting Junior Soul Master Academy. Tang San moved through the courtyard with the careful, unobtrusive steps of a predator learning its territory. Students milled about—some practicing soul skills, others idling in clusters. His gaze swept over them, cataloging, evaluating.

Then he saw her.

A girl with a long, silken ponytail sat on a low stone bench beneath a withered tree. Her legs were crossed, one foot swinging idly, and she was laughing at something a classmate had said. The sound was light, musical, like wind chimes in a gentle breeze. Her features were delicate, her skin fair, her expression open and innocent as a morning sky.

Xiao Wu.

The name surfaced in his borrowed memories. A transfer student like him, but she’d arrived earlier and already charmed the teachers with her gentle nature and exceptional talent. Soft-spoken, helpful, always smiling. The perfect image of a virtuous young lady.

Tang San watched her from the shadows of a pillar. His heart beat a slow, steady rhythm. There was something about the way she tilted her head, the slight arch of her back as she stretched—every movement seemed designed to draw the eye, to tease. And yet, her eyes held a guileless shimmer that made him wonder.

Innocent? Or a mask worn so well even she believed it?

Either way, the sight of her stirred something deep in his gut. A familiar heat, honed over a past lifetime of calculated pleasures and hidden perversions. He wanted to taste that innocence, to peel it back layer by layer and see what whispered beneath.

“Xiao Wu,” he murmured, testing the name on his tongue.

She glanced up, as if sensing his gaze, and their eyes met for the briefest moment. She smiled, a polite, friendly curve of her lips, then turned back to her friend. But Tang San noticed the faintest flicker in her eyes—a spark of awareness, perhaps even recognition. A rabbit sensing a fox.

His smile widened, thin and knowing.

---

That night, alone in his dormitory, Tang San sat cross-legged on his cot with a flickering candle beside him. The room was silent, the other boys asleep. He closed his eyes and let his spirit power circulate, feeling the flow of soul energy through his meridians.

In his past life, he had been a man of many talents. Martial arts, medicine, alchemy—but also a student of the human body in ways that went beyond combat. He knew where the nerves clustered, where pressure could bring pain or pleasure. Now, with soul power as an additional factor, the possibilities expanded exponentially.

He placed a fingertip on his own wrist, focusing a thread of Blue Silver Grass energy into the point. A mild tingle spread up his arm. He adjusted the intensity, the angle, the rotation of the soul power. The tingle sharpened, then softened into a warm, diffuse pleasure. Interesting.

He spent the next hours mapping his own body, noting every sensitive point, every reaction. The base of the skull, the inner elbow, the dip of the lower back, the crease of the thigh. Some points responded to light, brushing flows of soul power; others needed a firmer, concentrated pulse.

By the time the candle guttered out, his mind was racing with experiments yet to be performed. He thought of Xiao Wu’s slender waist, her long, supple legs. He imagined trailing a finger along that spine, teasing a stream of soul power into those hidden points, watching her gasp, her composure shattering.

But he would be patient. A hunter does not rush the trap. He would first observe, learn, and then, when the time was right, he would test his theories. Not just on Xiao Wu, but on every woman who crossed his path.

This world was ripe for the taking. And Tang San intended to taste every fruit it had to offer.

He lay back on his cot, the darkness a canvas for his fantasies. His desire, awakened and ravenous, filled the silence with a promise—a promise of pleasure, of conquest, of absolute, shameless indulgence.

The morning sun filtered through the leaves of the Spirit Forest, casting dappled shadows across the clearing where Tang San and Xiao Wu stood. She had arrived early, her long black braid swinging as she stretched her arms above her head, revealing a sliver of pale midriff. Tang San watched her with a smile that never quite reached his eyes, his hands clasped behind his back as he approached.

"Xiao Wu, today we begin your actual combat training," Tang San said, his voice smooth and measured. "But first, I need to assess your body's current limits. Every spirit master has unique physical characteristics, and understanding yours will allow me to design the perfect cultivation routine."

Xiao Wu tilted her head, her innocent rabbit eyes blinking up at him. "Okay, San-ge! I trust you completely!"

Tang San stepped closer, his hands reaching out to grip her shoulders. His thumbs pressed into the soft flesh just below her collarbone, and he felt her shiver beneath his touch. "Good. Close your eyes and relax. Tell me everything you feel."

He let his hands slide down her arms, tracing the contour of her biceps, then moving to her waist. Xiao Wu's breath hitched as his fingers dug into the muscles along her sides, pressing and releasing in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

"That tickles, San-ge," she giggled, squirming slightly.

"Don't move. This is serious," Tang San chided gently, though his fingers continued their exploration. He moved lower, gripping her hips with both hands, his thumbs pressing into the hollows just above her pelvic bone. Xiao Wu's giggling stopped, replaced by a sharp intake of breath.

"San-ge... that feels strange," she murmured, her voice dropping an octave.

Tang San smiled. "Good. That means your energy channels there are responsive. A sign of potential."

He turned her around, pressing her back against his chest as his hands moved to her thighs. He squeezed the firm muscle, feeling the latent power in her legs. His fingers crept upward, brushing against the sensitive inner flesh. Xiao Wu's body trembled, her breath coming faster.

"Your leg muscles are exceptional," he said, his lips nearly touching her ear. "But we need to see how flexible you really are. Bend forward for me."

Xiao Wu obeyed, her body folding at the waist. Tang San's hand slid down her spine, pressing firmly into each vertebra until he reached the small of her back. She arched involuntarily, a soft sound escaping her lips.

"That's right. Hold this position." Tang San's voice was calm, clinical, even as his hand slipped lower, cupping the curve of her bottom. She gasped, her face turning red.

"San-ge, is this really necessary?"

"Absolutely. Your body's responses tell me where your weaknesses are." He squeezed gently, feeling the firm flesh yield under his palm. "You're very tense here. We'll need to work on relaxation techniques."

He released her and stepped back, his eyes hungry despite his composed expression. Xiao Wu straightened slowly, her cheeks flushed, her eyes slightly glazed.

"Let's continue with some stretching exercises," Tang San said, gesturing for her to sit on the grass. "Spread your legs as wide as you can."

Xiao Wu did as instructed, her skirt riding up as she sat. Tang San knelt before her, his hands gripping her ankles and pushing them further apart. She winced as the muscles in her inner thighs stretched.

"Don't resist. Let your body go limp." His hands moved up her calves, over her knees, then to her thighs. He pressed down on them, forcing her legs wider. "Deeper. I need to see your maximum range of motion."

"S-San-ge..." Xiao Wu's voice was breathy, her eyes half-lidded. "I think... that's enough..."

"Not yet." He leaned forward, his face close to hers, his hands still gripping her thighs. "Trust me, Xiao Wu. I know what's best for your cultivation."

She nodded weakly, her body surrendering to his touch. Tang San smiled, a predator's smile hidden behind a mask of concern.

---

That night, in the dimly lit dormitory, Tang San sat cross-legged on his bed while Xiao Wu knelt before him. The room was silent save for the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards.

"San-ge, you said there was something important you wanted to show me?" Xiao Wu asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

Tang San reached into his storage soul tool and withdrew a small, oval-shaped device. It was smooth, metallic, with a single button on its side. When he pressed it, the device hummed to life, vibrating against his palm.

"This is a cultivation aid I developed," he said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "It stimulates the body's energy points in ways that normal training cannot. It can accelerate your cultivation speed significantly. But I need to test it on you first, to make sure it's safe."

Xiao Wu's eyes widened as she looked at the buzzing object. "What does it do exactly?"

"It sends gentle vibrations through the body," Tang San explained, rising from his bed. "I'll need to apply it directly to certain key points. Lie down on the bed and remove your lower garments."

Xiao Wu hesitated, her cheeks reddening. "But San-ge, that's..."

"Xiao Wu, cultivation requires sacrifice. Would you rather remain at this level forever?" Tang San's voice hardened slightly. "I am doing this for you. For us."

She bit her lip, then nodded slowly. She climbed onto his bed and lay back, her fingers hooking into the waistband of her shorts. With a deep breath, she pulled them down, exposing her slender legs and the thin fabric of her underwear.

Tang San's eyes roamed her body greedily. "Good. Now spread your legs."

She obeyed, her hands fisting the sheets as she parted her thighs. Tang San knelt between them, the vibrator humming in his hand. He pressed it against her inner thigh, just few inches from her core.

"Tell me what you feel," he instructed, moving the device in slow circles.

"It's... buzzing... warm..." Xiao Wu's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Good. The sensation should travel upward." He moved the vibrator higher, pressing it against the fabric of her underwear, right over her most sensitive spot.

Xiao Wu gasped, her back arching off the bed. Her hands flew to her mouth, muffling the sound that escaped her lips.

"Does it feel good?" Tang San asked, his voice calm even as he watched her body writhe.

"I... I don't know..." She was panting now, her hips moving involuntarily against the vibrations.

Tang San pressed harder, watching her reactions with clinical detachment. Her legs began to tremble, her breathing growing ragged. He increased the vibration intensity.

"San-ge... something's happening... I feel... strange..."

"That's the energy flowing through your meridians," he lied, continuing to move the vibrator in patterns across her covered sex. "Let it happen. Don't fight it."

Xiao Wu's eyes rolled back as a wave of sensation crashed through her. Her body stiffened, her thighs clamping around Tang San's hand as she cried out, a sound half pleasure, half confusion. The orgasm ripped through her, leaving her trembling and gasping.

Tang San pulled the vibrator away, watching her chest heave as she slowly came down from the peak. Her underwear was soaked through, a dark patch visible against the white fabric.

"How do you feel?" he asked, his voice solicitous now.

"Like... like I just ran ten miles..." Xiao Wu panted, her eyes unfocused. "But also... relaxed? My whole body feels tingly."

"Good. The energy block has been cleared," Tang San said, storing the vibrator away. "We'll need to do this regularly to maintain the progress. Daily, in fact."

Xiao Wu nodded weakly, still catching her breath. "If it helps my cultivation, San-ge... I'm willing to do it."

Tang San smiled, his hand reaching out to stroke her hair. "That's my good girl. You rest now. Tomorrow, we'll begin the next phase."

As Xiao Wu drifted off to sleep, still tangled in the sheets, Tang San sat in the darkness, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction. The first step was complete. The rabbit was learning to crave the touch of the hunter's hand.

Tang San’s eyes narrowed as he watched Xiao Wu stretch lazily in the early morning light filtering through the window of their inn room. Her movements were fluid, almost hypnotic, every sinew of her slender frame flexing with an unnatural grace. He had suspected it for weeks—the way her body moved, the faint pulse of energy that was not quite human soul power. Now, with the help of a secret technique from his past life, he confirmed it. She was no ordinary girl. She was a hundred-thousand-year beast soul in human form.

“Xiao Wu,” he said, his voice smooth as oil, “why don’t you sit with me? I’ve been thinking about our training. There’s something I want to try.”

She turned, a playful smile on her lips. Her waist was impossibly supple, curving like a willow in the wind. “Oh? What kind of training, San? You’ve been so busy lately, I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”

He gestured to the chair beside him. She bounced over, sitting with her legs crossed carelessly, the hem of her skirt riding high. Tang San’s gaze lingered on the bare skin of her thighs before he spoke.

“I’ve been studying ancient texts. About beast souls, specifically. Did you know that some soul beasts who take human form have physical weaknesses tied to their original nature?”

Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second. “What do you mean?”

“For example,” he continued, leaning in, “a Soft Bone Rabbit—they have an incredibly flexible spine, but also a pressure point at the base of the neck. If pressed just right, it renders them completely immobile. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

Xiao Wu’s eyes widened. She started to rise, but Tang San’s hand shot out, clamping onto her shoulder. His thumb found the exact spot—a soft hollow where her shoulder met her neck. He pressed down with a precise application of soul power.

A shudder racked her body. Her limbs went limp, and she slumped back into the chair, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “S-San... what are you doing?”

“I’m just proving a theory,” he said, his voice calm and cold. “You’re not human, Xiao Wu. You’re a hundred-thousand-year soul beast. And now, you’re mine.”

She tried to struggle, but her body refused to obey. Panic flickered in her eyes. “Let me go! I’ll scream!”

“Scream all you want. The innkeeper is deaf to certain sounds. I made sure of it.” He released the pressure but kept his hand on her shoulder. “Listen carefully. You have two choices. You can continue to play the obedient girl and follow my instructions, or I can expose you. The Spirit Hall would pay a fortune for a living hundred-thousand-year soul ring. Do you understand?”

Xiao Wu’s lips trembled. She had lived for millennia, had evaded countless hunters. But this boy—this cunning, treacherous boy—had seen through her disguise. And he had found her weakness.

“What do you want?” she whispered.

“Everything,” Tang San said, a predatory smile spreading across his face. “But first, we begin with training. You will learn to submit. And to obey.”

He pulled her to her feet. She wobbled, still weak from the pressure point attack. He led her to the center of the room and told her to kneel. She hesitated, but a sharp look from him made her compliance swift.

“You will remain in this position until I tell you to move,” he said. “If you falter, I will punish you. And trust me, my punishments are creative.”

For the next hour, he made her hold various poses—spreads, arches, stretches—as if she were a doll he was molding. Her limbs ached, her muscles screamed, but every time she tried to rebel, he found a new pressure point, a new angle of pain that bent her to his will.

By noon, she was slick with sweat, her breath ragged. But her eyes had changed. The defiance was still there, but now it was mingled with something else—a reluctant respect for his control.

“Good,” Tang San said, helping her stand. “Now for the next step.”

He took out a small object from his storage ring. It was a delicate metallic bead, no larger than a fingernail, etched with intricate runes.

“What is that?” Xiao Wu asked, her voice hoarse.

“A soul guide. Miniature. I’ve been working on it for weeks.” He held it up to the light. “Once implanted, it will allow me to monitor your movements, your emotions, even your vital signs. And at my command, it can deliver a shock strong enough to knock you unconscious.”

She recoiled. “No! I won’t let you put that inside me!”

“You don’t have a choice.” His tone was ice. “Open your mouth.”

She clamped her lips shut. Tang San sighed, as if dealing with a stubborn child. He grabbed her jaw, forcing her mouth open, and placed the bead on her tongue. It slid down her throat before she could spit it out.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then a warm sensation spread through her chest, settling near her heart. She gasped, clutching her sternum.

“It’s already integrating with your energy channels,” Tang San said. “Within a day, it will be completely invisible to any inspection. But I will always know where you are. What you feel. And how to make you obey.”

He reached out and stroked her cheek. She flinched but did not pull away.

“Every night, you will report to me. Every day, you will follow my training. And when I need you, in ways you cannot yet imagine, you will serve without question.” He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. “You are my beast now, Xiao Wu. And I will use you well.”

She stared at the floor, her hands clenched into fists. But deep in her core, despite the humiliation, a spark of dark excitement flared. He was strong. Domineering. Unlike anyone she had ever met.

Perhaps, she thought, this was not entirely a punishment.

And in the days that followed, as Tang San pushed her through more intense training—physical, mental, and soon, intimate—she found herself craving his commands, his touch, his complete control.

The beast soul had met her master. And the true game was only beginning.

The morning sun cast a golden haze over Shrek Academy’s cobblestone paths. Tang San walked through the main gate, his expression composed, but his eyes flitted like a hawk’s over every female form he passed. He had already spent the night memorizing the layout, and now he was eager to meet the prizes this garden held.

The registration hall was noisy with new students. A tall, pale girl with a wasp waist and explosive curves stood apart from the crowd, her arms crossed. Her skin-tight black uniform strained over breasts that defied gravity, and her legs were sinuous pillars of strength. Tang San noticed her fingers twitching as if desperate for something to grip. *Zhu Zhuqing*, he thought. *The unsatisfied cat. Perfect.*

Nearby, a petite girl with long, glossy black hair and skin like cream giggled with a group of admirers. She wore a pink dress that barely contained her full, perky chest. Ning Rongrong tossed her hair and dismissed a boy with a wave, her voice dripping with spoiled arrogance. Tang San saw the hunger behind her eyes—not for admiration, but for domination. *A little princess who wants to be broken.*

He approached them with a humble bow. “Tang San. I hope we can learn from each other.”

Zhu Zhuqing gave him a cold look, but her nostrils flared slightly. Ning Rongrong wrinkled her nose. “You’re that boy from the village? You don’t look like much.”

Tang San smiled inwardly. *She’ll look like much when I have her on her knees.* Aloud, he said, “Everyone has hidden strengths.”

As he turned away, he caught a glimpse of Bibi Dong entering the dean’s office—a statuesque woman whose every step screamed dominance. Her white robes clung to a body carved by the gods, and her gaze swept the room like she owned every soul in it. Beside her, a figure in angelic white robes, Xue Qinghe’s face, smiled with sly amusement. Qian Renxue’s eyes traced over Tang San with a predator’s interest.

*The Pope and the princess. This academy is a treasure chest.*

By evening, Tang San had cataloged everyone. He watched Liu Erlong drag a trembling young student into a private room, heard the muffled moans through the walls, and nodded with satisfaction. Yu Xiaogang sat in a corner, scribbling in a notebook, muttering about theoretical coitus techniques. Tang San pitied him. *The impotent scholar. His wife will be mine soon.*

Darkness fell. In their shared dormitory, Xiao Wu lay on the bed, her rabbit ears twitching as Tang San closed the door. She wore only a thin slip that revealed the curve of her waist and the long, powerful lines of her thighs. Her jade-like skin glowed in the candlelight.

“Xiao San,” she purred, stretching like a cat. “Did you miss me?”

Tang San said nothing. He produced a sleek, silver vibrator from his belt—a modified soul tool he had crafted in the village, enchanted with a gentle warmth and multiple pulsation patterns. Xiao Wu’s eyes gleamed.

“You’re always so prepared,” she whispered.

He sat beside her, his hands caressing her soft belly, sliding under the slip. “Tonight, we train differently. Close your eyes. Feel the flow of soul power through this tool.”

She obeyed, her breath hitching as he pressed the vibrator against her inner thigh. The tip hummed against her slick entrance, and she gasped. “Tang San… that’s not cultivation…”

“Everything is cultivation,” he murmured, pushing it inside her.

Xiao Wu’s back arched. The device buzzed deep within her, and she clutched the sheets, her waist writhing like a water snake. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her powerful thighs squeezing him as she rode the vibrator while he controlled its frequency with his soul power.

“Ah—faster—don’t stop—!” She bit her lip, her eyes rolling back. The room filled with the wet sounds of her arousal and her sharp cries.

Tang San watched coldly, his own pants tenting, but he did not join. This was a test. Her responsiveness confirmed she was too easily pleased. *A slut who will betray me if I’m not careful.* He smiled. *But I’ll train her to be my perfect toy.*

After minutes of shuddering climaxes, Xiao Wu collapsed, panting. “You’re too good at this… I can’t move.”

He removed the vibrator, licked it clean, and tucked it away. “Rest. Tomorrow, we begin real lessons.”

As she slept, he sat at the window, staring at the moonlit academy. *Zhu Zhuqing’s untouched passion. Ning Rongrong’s spoiled hunger. Bibi Dong’s regal lust. Qian Renxue’s double-sided depravity.* He listed them like weapons in an armory.

*One by one, I will own them all. This world is my harem.*

A soft moan drifted from Liu Erlong’s office. Tang San’s lips curled. *And the night is still young.*

The night air in Shrek Academy was thick with the scent of wildflowers and the distant chirp of insects. Zhu Zhuqing lay on her narrow bed, her body tense beneath the thin sheet. Sleep had become a stranger these past months, ever since Dai Mubai had fled to this backwater academy, leaving her alone in the Star Luo Imperial Palace with nothing but her burning desires and trembling fingers. Tonight was no different. Her hand drifted between her thighs, seeking the familiar pressure that could grant her a few moments of oblivion. But before she could find release, a wave of dizziness washed over her.

She felt it first as a strange heat curling at the base of her skull, then a soft hum that seemed to vibrate through the wooden floorboards. The moonlight streaming through the window flickered, and the shadows in the corners of the room began to writhe. Zhu Zhuqing tried to sit up, but her limbs were heavy, as if bound by invisible vines. Her eyelids drooped, and the world dissolved into a haze of green and violet light.

In her dream, she was back in the Star Luo Empire—not the grand hall of battles, but a dark, secluded chamber. The air was cold and damp, and she was naked, spread-eagled on a stone altar. Her wrists and ankles were bound by Blue Silver Grass that pulsed with a faint, ominous glow. She struggled, her toned muscles straining, but the bindings only tightened. Then a figure stepped out of the shadows. It was Tang San, but not the humble disciple she knew. His eyes were cold, predatory, and his lips curled into a smug grin.

“You’ve been so tense lately, Zhuqing,” he said, his voice a low purr that echoed in the empty chamber. “Let me help you relax.”

She wanted to scream, to summon her martial soul, but no sound came. Her spirit was paralyzed as he approached, his hand reaching out to trace the curve of her waist. The simple touch sent a jolt of electric pleasure through her, and despite her mind screaming resistance, her hips arched upward. In the dream, she was not a noble of the Star Luo Empire; she was prey.

Tang San’s fingers slid over her abdomen, dipping lower. Her breath hitched. “No… don’t…” The words were barely a whisper, but her body betrayed her. A wetness pooled between her legs, and she hated herself for it. He laughed softly, a sound that was both cruel and intimate.

“You’ve been touching yourself every night, haven’t you?” he said, his fingers circling her clit with maddening precision. “I know. I’ve watched. The proud Zhu Zhuqing, reduced to a mewling slut in the dark.” A flash of shame burned through her, but it was quickly drowned by the building pleasure. He pressed two fingers inside her, and she cried out, her back arching off the cold stone.

The dream warped. She was no longer on the altar but floating in an ocean of thick, fragrant mist. Tang San was everywhere—his hands on her breasts, his mouth on her neck, his hardness pressing against her thigh. She tried to push him away, but her arms were weak, and her hips rocked against him involuntarily. The pleasure was relentless, building and building until she was sobbing with need.

“Please…” she gasped, not knowing if she was begging him to stop or to never stop.

“Good girl,” he whispered against her ear. “Surrender. You’ll feel so much better when you stop fighting.”

And she did. Something inside her snapped. The last vestiges of her pride crumbled, and she opened herself to him completely. In the dream, he entered her, and she clutched at his shoulders, raking her nails down his back, crying out his name. The orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, so powerful that she felt the world shatter into a thousand gleaming shards.

When she opened her eyes, she was still in her room at the academy, but everything was different. The moonlight had an eerie green tint, and she could feel the phantom weight of Blue Silver Grass coiled around her limbs. She tried to move, but her body refused. Her muscles were limp, and her soul power was locked away, replaced by a throbbing, aching emptiness between her legs.

Tang San stood at the foot of her bed, fully dressed, his hands clasped behind his back. A faint smirk played on his lips. He had not moved from his own dormitory, but she knew—she *felt*—that it was his will that held her captive.

“You’re awake,” he said calmly, as if discussing the weather. “That was a pleasant dream, wasn’t it?”

Zhu Zhuqing’s jaw clenched. “You… what did you do to me?”

He stepped closer, and the air around her grew thick and heavy. “I gave you what you needed. What you’ve been too proud to take for yourself.” He reached out, and even though his fingers were inches from her skin, she felt a phantom touch ghost over her thigh, replicating the dream. “But dreams are fleeting. Let me show you reality.”

The Blue Silver Grass tightened on her ankles, pulling her legs apart. She gasped, her body already slick from the dream, and a fresh wave of shame and desire washed over her. Tang San climbed onto the bed, kneeling between her open thighs. He was still fully clothed, but she could see the bulge straining against his trousers.

“You’ve been such a naughty girl,” he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Running away from your husband, isolating yourself. You need correction.”

He grasped her hips, and she felt the cool air on her wetness. Then, instead of his member, he pressed the palm of his hand against her entrance. Her eyes widened. “What are you—?”

He silenced her with a glare. “You’ll learn new pleasures tonight.”

Slowly, deliberately, he pressed a single finger inside her. She shuddered. Then another. Her inner walls clenched around him. He twisted his hand, stretching her, and a small moan escaped her lips. “Oh, you like that?” he said, his grin widening. “We’ve only just begun.”

He pushed deeper, curling his fingers, and then he relaxed his hand, making a fist. She felt the pressure build, her hole stretching to accommodate his knuckles. A sharp pain lanced through her—not the sweet ache of penetration, but a raw, burning stretch. She cried out, her hips bucking, trying to escape, but his other hand pressed down on her pelvis, pinning her.

“This is for your own good,” he said, his voice hard. “The pain will teach you obedience. The pleasure will teach you to crave it.”

He pushed his fist past the tight ring of muscle, and she screamed. A bright, searing pain exploded in her lower belly, but beneath it, a wave of pleasure surged, so intense it made her vision white. Her body convulsed, and she felt the walls of her vagina clamp down around his forearm. He held still, letting her adjust, letting the pain and pleasure melt into a single, intoxicating haze.

“There you go,” he whispered, leaning down to lick the sweat from her collarbone. “You’re finally learning to take what’s given.”

He began to move his fist, slowly at first, then faster. Each thrust stretched her in ways she had never imagined, filling the deep, empty ache that had haunted her lonely nights. Tears streamed from her eyes, and she babbled incoherently, a mix of curses and pleas and moans. She was completely at his mercy. A tool for his pleasure. And she loved it.

Minutes or hours later—she couldn’t tell—he pulled out his fist with a wet pop, leaving her gaping and trembling. Her thighs were slick with her own fluids, her body shuddering with aftershocks. He wiped his hand on her bedsheet, then leaned over to kiss her forehead.

“From now on, you will come to my room every night before bed,” he said, his tone casual, final. “I’ll continue your training. And if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you touch me. If you’re bad…” He smiled, a cold, cruel smile. “I’ll leave you tied up with your dream lover until you scream yourself hoarse.”

Zhu Zhuqing could not respond. Her mind was a numb, blissful fog. She could only nod weakly, her eyes fixed on his retreating back as he left the room.

As the door clicked shut, she lay still in the darkness, the lingering scent of him filling her nostrils. The emptiness inside her was gone, replaced by a throbbing, possessive presence. She knew she should hate him. She knew she should run.

But her legs would not move. And deep in the hollow of her chest, a tiny, shameless part of her whispered: *I want more.*

Ning Rongrong had always believed that as the eldest daughter of the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect, she was untouchable. Her father was a titled Douluo. Her family's wealth and power stretched across the continent. No one would dare cross her.

Yet here she stood, in a lavish private chamber somewhere in Soto City, staring at the smug-faced young man who held her future in his hands.

"You wouldn't dare," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "If my father finds out you threatened me, he'll—"

"He'll what?" Tang San interrupted, lazily twirling a small porcelain bottle between his fingers. "Kill me? Expose the fact that his precious daughter has been skimming sect funds for years? That her private accounts hold enough gold soul coins to outfit an entire battalion of soul masters? I wonder what the sect elders would think when they learn their future heir has been embezzling."

Ning Rongrong's face went white. Those accounts were supposed to be a secret. She had used them to fund her lavish lifestyle—silk dresses, rare perfumes, fabulous parties. How had this nobody from a backwater academy discovered them?

"I could make it all go away," Tang San said, setting the bottle down and stepping closer. His eyes traveled over her body with an appraising slowness that made her skin crawl. "But everything has a price."

"What do you want?" The words came out before she could stop them.

Tang San smiled. It was not a kind smile.

"Everything."

---

The room was too hot, too perfumed, too full of eyes that watched her every move. Ning Rongrong's expensive silk dress had been torn away hours ago—or was it only minutes? Time had become slippery, meaningless. She lay on a massive bed draped in crimson sheets, surrounded by figures she barely recognized.

Xiao Wu was there, her long legs wrapped around an unknown man's waist, her rabbit-like moans filling the air as she rode him with practiced ease. Bibi Dong sat on a throne-like chair nearby, two handsome men kneeling between her thighs, servicing her with reverent attention. Qian Renxue—or was it her male disguise, Xue Qinghe?—alternated between kissing a trembling maid and stroking the exposed member of a young attendant.

Zhu Zhuqing knelt in the corner, her body quivering as she pleasured herself with a jade implement, dark eyes fixed on the orgy unfolding before her. Liu Erlong stood over a bound young man, her mature body glistening with sweat as she lowered herself onto him again and again, her cries of pleasure drowned by the wet sounds of their joining.

And Tang San stood at the center of it all, orchestrating every movement.

"Don't worry," he said, stroking Ning Rongrong's hair as she trembled on the bed. "Everyone starts somewhere. You'll learn to enjoy it."

"I won't," she gasped, trying to push away the hands that reached for her. "I'm not like these—"

"Whores?" Tang San finished. "But you are, Rongrong. You just haven't realized it yet. Look at yourself. Your body knows what it wants even if your mind refuses to accept it."

She hated that he was right. Her nipples were hard, her thighs slick with moisture, her core aching with a heat that shamed her. When a male attendant pressed himself against her, she felt her hips instinctively tilt upward.

"No," she whispered, but her voice was weak.

Tang San chuckled. "That's right. Pretend to resist. It makes the surrender sweeter."

---

The first man entered her from behind while she was on her hands and knees. Ning Rongrong bit her lip to keep from crying out, but a moan escaped anyway. He was thick, filling her in ways her own fingers never could. Before she could adjust, another man knelt before her, pressing his erection against her lips.

"Open up, little miss," he said, gripping her hair.

She refused, clamping her mouth shut. Tang San appeared beside her, cupping her chin.

"The sect's secrets, Rongrong. The audit I've already prepared. One word from me, and your father loses everything. The sect falls. Your name becomes a curse whispered in every tavern from here to Heaven Dou City."

Her eyes filled with tears, but she parted her lips.

The man thrust in immediately.

Time became a blur of bodies, of heat and sweat and the relentless rhythm of flesh against flesh. Ning Rongrong was flipped onto her back, her legs spread wide as two men took her at once—one below, one above. Every inch of her was touched, licked, claimed. Her breasts were groped and squeezed, her nipples bitten until she gasped.

And slowly, shamefully, she began to feel pleasure.

It started as a small warmth in her belly, growing with each thrust. When Xiao Wu's tongue found her clit—the rabbit spirit had crawled over mid-orgasm to taste her—Ning Rongrong bucked uncontrollably, a scream of raw pleasure tearing from her throat.

"That's it," Xiao Wu purred, her breath hot against sensitive flesh. "Let go. Stop fighting."

And Ning Rongrong did.

---

By the time the fifth—or was it sixth?—orgasm shattered through her, she had stopped caring about the blackmail, the threats, the shame. Her body was no longer hers to command. It belonged to the pleasure that consumed her, to the men and women who used her so thoroughly that she couldn't remember her own name.

"I want more," she heard herself gasp, shocking herself. "Please, I need—"

Tang San was there again, holding a small metal instrument that glowed with faint spiritual power. "You want to feel even better?" he asked, his voice low and hypnotic. "Let me give you something special. A gift from me to you."

"What is it?" Her voice was slurred with exhaustion and ecstasy.

"A soul guide," he said, pressing the tip of the instrument against her left breast. "It will amplify every sensation you feel. Every touch, every kiss, every thrust inside you—it will be magnified a hundred times. You'll never experience pleasure the same way again."

"But I—" She cried out as the hot tip pierced her skin, embedding itself in the soft tissue of her breast. The pain was sharp, immediate, but before she could scream, a wave of pleasure so intense it bordered on agony washed through her.

Her back arched, her mouth open in a silent scream. Her entire body convulsed as she orgasmed from the mere act of the implant settling into place.

Tang San didn't stop. He moved to her right breast, inserting another soul guide. Again the pain, again the impossible pleasure. Then another at the base of her throat, one on each inner thigh, a final one just above her clit.

By the end, Ning Rongrong was a trembling mess, tears and drool running down her face, moaning incomprehensibly. Every breath sent sparks of pleasure through her chest. Every twitch of her legs made her thighs throb with ecstasy.

"There," Tang San said, wiping his hands and looking down at her with cold satisfaction. "Now you belong to me, body and soul. The Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect's secrets are safe. For now."

Ning Rongrong could only nod, her eyes glassy, a foolish smile spreading across her lips. The men around her were still hard, still waiting, and she wanted them all.

"Please," she begged, spreading her legs. "Use me again."

Tang San gestured, and they descended on her once more.

---

Later, when the room was finally quiet and the others had dispersed to their own pleasures, Ning Rongrong lay limp in Tang San's arms. The soul guides pulsed gently against her skin, a constant source of low-level pleasure that made her purr like a satisfied cat.

"Was it worth it?" he asked, tracing patterns on her breast.

"What?" she mumbled, barely conscious.

"Giving in. Becoming mine."

She thought about her father, the sect, all the years of being a spoiled little princess who got whatever she wanted. None of it compared to the ecstasy she had just experienced. None of it mattered.

"Yes," she whispered, nuzzling against his chest. "I want to feel this forever."

Tang San smiled, a predator's smile, and tightened his arm around her.

"You will. I promise you that."

Tang San had been observing Liu Erlong for several days now. The way she moved, the way she breathed, the way her ample chest rose and fell with each frustrated sigh—all of it told him things that her lips never would. Yu Xiaogang was a pathetic waste of a man, unable to satisfy a woman of such magnificent proportions. And more importantly, Tang San had sensed something unusual about her spirit power, a subtle sweetness that clung to her skin like morning dew.

It was late evening when he found her alone in the dean's office. The Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon bloodline ran hot in her veins, and tonight she was clearly restless, pacing before her desk with a bottle of wine in hand. Her robes were loose, the collar hanging open to reveal a generous expanse of creamy cleavage. Tang San knocked politely, then entered without waiting for permission.

"Teacher Liu," he said, his voice humble and respectful. "I hope I'm not disturbing you. I had some questions about my training."

Liu Erlong looked up, her eyes glazed with alcohol and desire. "Tang San? At this hour?" She laughed, a throaty sound that resonated in her chest. "Come in, come in. I could use the company."

He approached carefully, noting the way her gaze lingered on his broad shoulders, his strong hands. The old fool Yu Xiaogang couldn't give her what she needed, but Tang San could. He would. But first, he needed to confirm his theory.

"Teacher, I've noticed something unusual about your spirit power," he said, sitting across from her. "There's a unique fluctuation, something I've only read about in ancient texts."

Liu Erlong raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And what would a student know about my spirit power?"

"I know that the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon clan has a secret," he said, watching her reaction carefully. "A hidden ability that manifests only in certain women of the bloodline. A secretion that carries immense spiritual energy."

Her face flushed, and she looked away. "That's... that's not something we discuss."

"Please, Teacher Liu. I'm a researcher at heart, just like Grandmaster. I want to understand." He leaned forward, his tone conspiratorial. "I've heard it has remarkable properties. Healing properties. Aphrodisiac properties."

Liu Erlong bit her lip. The wine had loosened her inhibitions, and this handsome young man was looking at her with such intensity. "It's true," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "My body produces a special milk. It's a curse, really. It makes me... difficult to satisfy."

Tang San's heart raced, but his face remained calm. "May I examine it? For scientific purposes?"

She laughed again, a desperate, hungry sound. "You want to see my milk? You're a bold one, Tang San." She stood, unsteadily, and walked to a cabinet. From it, she retrieved a small glass vial, half-filled with a pearlescent liquid. "I expressed some earlier. I was going to study it myself."

He took the vial, holding it up to the lamplight. The liquid shimmered, pulsing with faint blue lightning. "Fascinating. But I wonder—does it need to be fresh? Does the state of arousal affect its potency?"

Liu Erlong's breath caught. "What are you suggesting?"

"An experiment," Tang San said, his smile innocent yet predatory. "I've prepared a special herbal tea. It's said to stimulate milk production in mothers. I thought perhaps it might work on you as well."

She should have refused. She knew she should have refused. But the wine, the loneliness, the burning need that never went away—it all conspired against her better judgment. "Fine," she said, her voice husky. "I'll try your tea."

Tang San brewed it himself, carefully mixing the herbs he'd prepared. The aphrodisiac was subtle, designed to increase blood flow and sensitivity without immediate obvious effects. He handed her the cup, watching her drink deeply.

Within minutes, her breathing changed. Her cheeks grew flushed, and she shifted in her seat, pressing her thighs together. "This tea... it's warm," she murmured.

"It should take effect soon," Tang San said. "You'll feel a tingling sensation in your chest."

As if on cue, Liu Erlong gasped. Her hands flew to her breasts, cupping them through her robes. "Something's happening. They feel... full. Heavy."

"May I?" Tang San asked, reaching out.

She nodded, her eyes half-closed with pleasure. He touched the fabric over her left breast, feeling the heat radiating from her skin. And then he saw it—a wet spot spreading across the silk, a milky white liquid seeping through.

"Perfect," he breathed.

Liu Erlong moaned, arching her back. "It hurts. They're so full. I need relief."

"I have a device," Tang San said, pulling a glass breast pump from his spatial ring. He'd crafted it himself, with tubes leading to a collection jar. "Allow me."

He helped her out of her robes, exposing her magnificent breasts. They were large, firm, topped with dark nipples that were already leaking. He placed the pump over her right breast, the suction drawing the milk in steady streams.

"Yes! Oh, yes!" Liu Erlong cried, grabbing the chair arms. "It feels so good. Don't stop."

Tang San watched the milk flow into the jar, a thin smile on his lips. The liquid was pearlescent, with an intoxicating aroma. He continued pumping until her breasts were empty, then did the same with the other side. By the end, he had nearly a liter of the precious fluid.

Liu Erlong slumped in her chair, panting. "That was... incredible. I feel so light."

"Rest now, Teacher," Tang San said, pocketing the jar. "I'll dispose of this for you."

She was too dazed to protest. He left her there, half-naked and satisfied, and retreated to his own quarters.

In the privacy of his room, he examined the milk more closely. He dipped a finger in, tasting it. Immediately, heat shot through his body, pooling in his groin. His cock hardened instantly, painfully. The aphrodisiac effect was undeniable.

"A woman who drinks this will be insatiable," he murmured. "A man who drinks it will be unstoppable."

He sealed the jar carefully. Liu Erlong was now his personal milk cow. And with this secret, he could control anyone he wished. He thought of Xiao Wu, of Zhu Zhuqing, of Bibidong herself. They would all drink from his hand, and they would all beg for more.

The night was still young. And Tang San had many experiments yet to conduct.

Yu Xiaogang sat alone in his dimly lit study, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across the stacks of soul beast anatomy charts and spirit ring manuals spread across his desk. Something had been gnawing at him for weeks, a persistent unease that coiled in his gut like a venomous serpent. Tang San, his most promising disciple, had changed. The boy who once asked eager questions about spirit power theory now wore a smirk that never reached his eyes, and the girls of Shrek Academy—Xiao Wu, Zhu Zhuqing, even the proud Ning Rongrong—all seemed to drift around him like moths to a corrupted flame.

Grandmaster rubbed his temples, the dull ache behind his eyes a constant companion. He had heard whispers, soft giggles in the night, the creak of bedsprings from the girls' dormitory long after curfew. He had seen bruises on Zhu Zhuqing's thighs that she tried to hide with loose trousers, and the way Liu Erlong's gaze lingered on Tang San with a hunger that made his blood run cold. Something was very wrong, and his impotence—both physical and now moral—screamed at him to act.

He found Tang San in the training yard at dusk, the last rays of sunlight glinting off the boy's Blue Silver Grass as he practiced some obscure manipulation of his soul rings. Two yellow, one purple. A prodigy. A monster.

"Tang San," Grandmaster called, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. "We need to talk."

Tang San turned slowly, a smile spreading across his face that didn't belong to any fourteen-year-old. "Grandmaster. I was wondering when you'd finally notice."

"Notice what?" Yu Xiaogang stepped closer, his heart hammering. "I've seen how you look at the girls. How they look at you. This isn't normal disciple behavior. You're up to something."

"I'm up to many things," Tang San said, his tone light and mocking. "But I think you're more concerned about what I'm not doing. Or rather, what you can't do. Isn't that right, Grandmaster? All those theories about coupling techniques and spirit fusion, but you've never made a woman moan in your life. Not even Liu Erlong."

The words struck like a physical blow. Yu Xiaogang's face flushed with shame and rage. "You insolent brat! I raised you! I taught you everything!"

"You taught me theory," Tang San corrected, stepping closer until they were face to face. "But I've learned so much more in practice. Let me show you what real mastery looks like."

Before Grandmaster could react, Tang San's third soul ring flared to life—a deep, menacing purple that pulsed with an oily light. A wave of spiritual energy crashed over Yu Xiaogang, and he felt his body freeze, his mind trapped in a cage of silk and thorns. He could see, he could hear, but he could not move or speak.

"Now then," Tang San whispered, his voice dripping with cruel amusement. "Let me show you the truth about your precious disciples."

The world around them shimmered and dissolved. Grandmaster found himself standing in an opulent bedroom, the walls draped in silks that cost more than he earned in a year. On the bed, Xiao Wu writhed beneath two muscular young men from the outer court, her rabbit ears twitching as she rode one of them with a practiced skill that shattered any illusion of her innocence. Her moans were not those of a maiden but of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it.

"You like that, don't you?" one of the men grunted, gripping her hips.

"Mmm, harder," Xiao Wu purred, her nails raking down his chest. "Tang San taught me so many positions. He's a genius, that boy."

Grandmaster tried to look away, but his eyes refused to obey. The scene shifted, and now he was in the Pope's chamber of the Spirit Hall. Bibi Dong sat astride the throne, her papal robes pooled at her feet, while three burly guards took turns servicing her. Her face was a mask of divine ecstasy, and she commanded them like a general directing a battle.

"Faster," she ordered, her voice husky. "If you disappoint me, you'll be feeding the soul beasts tomorrow."

And then Liu Erlong appeared, naked and glistening, bent over her dean's desk while a young student—barely seventeen, with the fresh face of a virgin—pounded into her from behind. Her breasts, swollen and modified by some soul tool, leaked a steady stream of milk that dripped onto the paperwork below. She laughed, a deep, throaty sound that made Grandmaster's stomach churn.

"Yu Xiaogang never could satisfy me," she moaned, craning her neck to kiss the boy. "But you... you're a natural. I think I'll keep you."

The visions kept coming. Zhu Zhuqing, alone in her room, her fingers buried inside herself as she gasped for relief, her pride shattered by Dai Mubai's abandonment and Tang San's cruel games. Ning Rongrong, surrounded by a dozen men from the sect, her delicate body passed from hand to hand like a toy, her screams of pain slowly turning into shrieks of pleasure. Qian Renxue, in her Xue Qinghe disguise, corrupting every maid and servant in the palace, her laughter echoing through the halls.

And through it all, Tang San stood beside Grandmaster, narrating each scene with clinical detachment. "You see, Grandmaster? They were always like this. I just helped them realize their true natures. I gave them what they wanted. What they needed."

"Stop," Grandmaster tried to scream, but his voice was a whisper trapped in his throat.

"Why should I? You wanted to know the truth. Here it is. Every woman you thought was pure, every girl you believed in, they're all sluts. And you? You're nothing. A eunuch who can only write about the act, never perform it. Look at Liu Erlong. Watch her take pleasure from a boy half her age. Do you think she ever thinks about you when she comes?"

Tears streamed down Yu Xiaogang's face, hot and bitter. His mind felt like it was shattering, each vision a hammer blow against the walls of his sanity. All his theories, all his research, all his years of dedication—reduced to mockery by this demon he had taken as a disciple.

"Please," he managed, the word cracking.

Tang San laughed, a sound like breaking glass. "Please what? Please let you go? Please make it stop? Oh no, Grandmaster. This is just the beginning. I'm going to keep you like this, a silent witness to everything I do. Every girl I take, every scream of pleasure, you'll be there. And when you finally break completely, I'll use your knowledge to build something even greater. You wanted to change the world through theory. I'll change it through practice."

The visions intensified. Time lost meaning. Grandmaster watched Xiao Wu take three men at once, watched Bibi Dong whip her guards bloody before riding them, watched Liu Erlong's milk spray across the dean's office as she climaxed. Hours passed, or days, or years. He felt his mind crumbling like old parchment, the edges fraying and burning.

And in the center of it all, Tang San smiled, the smile of a predator who had cornered its prey.

When dawn finally broke over Shrek Academy, Grandmaster collapsed in the training yard, his body released from the spiritual binding. He lay on the cold ground, staring up at the pale sky, his lips moving in silent prayer.

Tang San walked past him without a word, heading toward the girls' dormitory with a spring in his step.

Yu Xiaogang remained there for hours, the phantom echoes of moans and laughter still ringing in his ears. He had awoken to the truth, and the truth had destroyed him.