Not pain alone.

The qi vibration in the wood running up the inner thigh, into the nerve cluster the other queen’s thumbs had already been working, the stimulation arriving in a wave that her body’s classification system was struggling to file correctly.

Crack.

Other thigh.

"AAANGHH~!!"

The Amazonian woman at her breasts had found a different approach now — both hands, gripping, kneading, the weight of Chulteka’s breasts in her palms being worked the way dough is worked, the nipples trapped between fingers and rolled, the redness deepening, the tissue growing more sensitive with each pass.

Chulteka’s head was rolling.

The pride was still present.

The pride was losing badly.

"I — you — all of you — when I get free — HNGH~!! — I will—"

Crack.

"AANGHH~!!"

"Quiet," said the queen with the rod.

The catkin queen behind her pressed her hips into the post again — deeper this time, a grinding motion rather than a simple press, working Chulteka’s pussy lips against the ridge, the hairy cunt dragging across the wood with a friction that the hook above translated in real time.

Her juices were on the post now.

Running down the wood in a thin line.

Her body’s opinion, rendered in liquid, entirely against her will.

"No — no — I’m not — that’s not—"

The orgasm arrived anyway.

Not the slow build of a wanted one.

The sudden, involuntary, furious kind — the kind a body produces when every nerve ending it has been comprehensively engaged against the owner’s wishes and has simply overruled — her pussy gushing against the post’s ridge, the chains rattling as her whole body contracted, her head dropping forward, the silver hooks catching the light as the orgasm drove the tension upward through the thread one final time.

"HAAAANGHH~!!"

The sound of it clearing the garden walls.

Going up.

Coming back.

Her juices ran down the post.

Pooled on the stone.

Her thighs shaking in the chains, the muscle of her trying to close and finding the chains had opinions.

The Amazonian women and the catkin queens did not stop.

He looked at her.

Chulteka — head down, chest heaving, the pride present in the set of her jaw even through the tears she hadn’t quite produced yet, the hook still in place, the post still between her thighs, the women around her already repositioning for the next phase.

He looked at her the way he looked at things he was going to need information from.

Patient.

In no hurry.

Akane’s warmth above him, the slow ride of a pregnant woman who knows her pace and keeps it, the nine tails occasionally brushing his thigh.

The elf’s hand in his.

The garden lanterns moving in the wind.

"When you’re ready to talk," he said,

To Chulteka.

Conversational.

"They’ll stop."

A pause.

"Until then."

He looked at the queens.

They looked at him.

Continue, his expression said.

The rod found the inside of her thigh again.

Crack.

"AAAHH~!!"

Akane’s breath caught above him.

"Mnh~—"

Her rhythm unchanged.

Her golden eyes watching the garden with the composed interest of a seer who has seen many outcomes and finds this one satisfactory.

Her tail swept.

His hand on her hip.

The pleasure palace holding everything it had been built to hold — the scent of cultivation and incense and women and the particular warmth of a space that had been claimed and used and was still in the process of both.

Akane’s breath hitched again as she sank fully onto him, her soaked walls stretching around his thick cock. Even after being fucked by him countless times, even after carrying his child, the sensation still stole the air from her lungs. *He’s so deep...* she thought, golden eyes half-lidded with bliss. His cockhead pressed right against the entrance to her womb, stretching her pregnant pussy wide open, forcing her sensitive inner walls to yield completely. Her swollen belly rested against his abdomen, the roundness of it rubbing with every slow rise and fall. It felt strange — deliciously strange — the way he filled her so completely, pressing against the life growing inside her while her body trembled with ecstasy. *He’s claiming me again... claiming us.* Heat bloomed deep in her core, her nine tails swaying lazily as pleasure rolled through her in heavy waves. She kept her rhythm steady, genuine, savoring every inch of him dragging along her stretched cunt. *My husband... my everything.*

Tianlong’s hand rested possessively on her belly, feeling the warmth there as she rode him. His gaze never left the garden floor.

Chulteka was breaking.

The catkin queens and Amazonian women had grown more creative. One thick Amazonian now crouched between the demonic cultivator’s forcibly spread thighs, carving fresh bamboo stalks into smooth, ridged dildos — thick, segmented, and unyielding. The first one, already slick with oil, was pressed against Chulteka’s hairy, abused pussy.

"No— no more— you can’t—!"

The woman shoved it in without mercy. The thick bamboo plunged deep, stretching her cunt wide, the natural ridges catching on her inner walls as it bottomed out against her cervix. Chulteka screamed, back arching hard against the post, chains rattling violently. Her juices squirted around the invading shaft as her body betrayed her once again.

Another bamboo, slightly thinner but longer, was worked into her tight ass at the same time. The catkin queen behind her twisted it slowly, plunging it in and out with wet, filthy sounds while the hook on her clit pulled taut with every spasm.

"AAAHHH—! It’s too much— too deep—!"

They fucked her birth holes relentlessly with the bamboo dildos — plunging, twisting, thrusting in alternating rhythms. Her pussy and ass clenched and gushed around the rigid shafts, her juices running freely down the wood and pooling beneath her. Every thrust made her heavy breasts bounce, the silver hook on her clit sending constant jolts through her overstimulated nerves.

Kira stepped forward, blind eyes serene. She grabbed Chulteka’s breasts with both hands, squeezing the soft, reddened flesh brutally before wrapping thin ropes tightly around their bases. The bindings cinched hard, forcing her tits to bulge outward, turning dark and swollen, nipples stiff and hypersensitive. The Amazonians took turns slapping the bound, ballooning breasts — sharp, heavy strikes that made them jiggle obscenely while the ropes bit deeper.

Chulteka’s head thrashed, tears finally spilling down her cheeks as another forced orgasm ripped through her. Her pussy and ass convulsed around the bamboo dildos, squirting messily around them.

"I’ll tell— I’ll tell!" she cried brokenly, voice hoarse and desperate. "Stop this nonsense— please— I’ll tell you everything— just stop—!"

The women didn’t stop immediately. They kept the bamboo plunging deep into her stretched, dripping birth holes a few more times, drawing out fresh sobs and squirting spasms, her bound tits bouncing and reddening further under their hands and the ropes.

Tianlong watched it all with dark satisfaction, his cock throbbing hard inside Akane’s pregnant warmth as his wife continued her slow, loving ride.

Akane’s inner walls fluttered around him, milking him gently while she basked in the filthy ecstasy of the scene and the feeling of her husband buried so deep inside her womb.

Only then did he raise a hand slightly.

The women slowed, but kept the bamboo dildos buried deep inside Chulteka’s holes and her tits tightly bound, waiting for his next command.

"Mmhh..."