Dual Cultivation: Gathering SSS-Rank Wives in the Cultivation World-Chapter 352 - Did Yuna get caught masturbating?
Before she could finish, Tianlong flicked his finger.
The butterfly exploded.
Not with fire or force—but with a soundless implosion of dark energy. The magical prison shattered like glass, fragments of shadow dispersing into nothingness.
And then—
THUD!
A body materialized in mid-air and immediately crashed onto the supply table right beside Thessa’s prone form.
"KYAAAH—!"
The scream was sharp, feminine, and utterly panicked.
Yuna landed hard on her stomach, her face smashing into the wooden surface with enough force to make her teeth rattle. Her ass was raised high, legs spread in an obscene position that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
Her black latex combat suit—the one she always wore at the academy—was torn. Shredded along the crotch and ass, exposing pale skin marked with faint red scratches from where her own fingers had clawed at herself.
And those fingers—
Her right hand was still buried between her thighs, knuckle-deep inside her own pussy. The digits glistened with clear fluid, trembling as they remained lodged inside her twitching hole.
Her left hand clutched at the table desperately, nails scraping wood as she gasped for breath.
Her face was flushed crimson, eyes wide and glassy, mouth hanging open as drool leaked from the corner. Her red hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat, cat ears pinned flat against her skull.
The scent hit the room like a wave—thick, musky, absolutely unmistakable. Female arousal mixed with the sweet-sharp tang of fresh squirt.
Yuna’s chest heaved violently as she sucked in desperate lungfuls of air. The void prison had been warm—stifling—but now cold reality crashed against her overheated skin like ice water.
"Wha—what—where—"
Her words came out broken, confused. Her mind was still hazy, caught between the fantasy she’d been lost in and the sudden shock of being yanked back to reality.
She blinked rapidly, trying to focus. Trying to understand where she was.
The tent. Supply crates. The smell of leather and sweat and—
Her eyes focused on Tianlong, standing near the entrance, watching her with that insufferable smirk.
"Oh my," he said, his tone dripping with theatrical surprise. "Was my student masturbating this entire time?"
Yuna’s brain short-circuited.
"Whaaa... WwHHAAAA—"
Realization crashed over her like a tidal wave.
She’d been trapped in that butterfly. Trapped while he—while he’d been here. While he’d been talking. While she’d been—
’Oh gods. Oh gods no. He knows. He saw. He felt—’
Her body’s response was immediate and catastrophic.
"HNNNGH—!"
Her pussy clenched hard around her own fingers, muscles spasming violently. The orgasm that had been building for who-knows-how-long finally detonated with the force of a dam breaking.
Clear fluid sprayed from her cunt in a powerful jet, shooting past her embedded fingers. The stream arced through the air, splattering across the table, across Thessa’s exposed thigh, droplets hitting the tent floor with audible splashes.
"AHHHN~! NO—STOP—I CAN’T—!"
But her body didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. The release was too powerful, too long denied. Her hips bucked involuntarily, grinding her pussy against her own hand as more fluid gushed out in pulsing streams.
Squirt. Squirt. Squirt.
Each contraction forced more clear liquid from her twitching hole, creating an obscene puddle beneath her raised ass.
Mamoon stood frozen, her yellow cat eyes impossibly wide as she stared at the scene before her.
Her daughter. Her precious Yuna. Class leader at Thornwood Academy. The girl she’d raised to be strong, independent, disciplined—
Was lying on a table with her fingers buried in her own pussy, squirting like a bitch in heat.
"Yuna..." The word came out barely above a whisper. "What the hell?"
Yuna’s entire body locked up. That voice. That tone.
Oh no.
’Mother.’
Her head whipped around so fast her neck cracked. Through tear-blurred vision, she saw Mamoon standing there in her torn red latex suit, cat ears flat, expression caught between shock and something that might have been horror.
"M-MOTHER?!" Yuna’s voice cracked on the word, high and panicked. "W-WHY ARE YOU—I DIDN’T—THIS ISN’T—"
Another involuntary spasm rocked through her body, forcing more fluid to leak around her fingers. Her pussy made an obscene wet sound as it clenched, utterly betraying her attempts at dignity.
Mamoon’s jaw worked silently. Her claws flexed. Her tail lashed behind her once, twice, the tip twitching with barely controlled emotion.
"Remove. Your hand. Now."
The command was deadly quiet. The kind of tone that had made hardened warriors obey without question on countless battlefields.
But Yuna’s body wouldn’t cooperate. Her muscles were locked, still riding out the aftershocks of her orgasm.
Her fingers remained buried inside herself, twitching as her inner walls continued to pulse around them.
"I—I can’t—they’re stuck—I—"
Tianlong watched the exchange with barely contained amusement.
His crimson-gold eyes tracked every detail—the way Mamoon’s maternal instincts warred with her shock, the way Yuna trembled in humiliation, the way Thessa had lifted her head to stare at the new arrival with confused, glazed eyes.
This was getting interesting.
"So," he said conversationally, leaning against the tent pole with casual ease, "it seems I rather exposed my soon-to-be wife’s secret kink to you, mother in law..."
Mamoon’s head swiveled toward him, her expression caught between wanting to murder him and needing to understand what the actual fuck was happening.
"You..." Her voice was dangerously low. "What did you do to my daughter?"
She could see her daughter was aroused and doing something indecent that normally during heating periods catkins do, but...
Tianlong raised both hands in a gesture of innocence. "Me? I simply kept her safe. She was curious about where her mother might be during the battle, so I... preserved her. For her own protection, naturally."
His eyes glittered with mischief. "Though I must admit, I wasn’t aware she’d be keeping herself quite so... entertained... during her confinement."
Yuna wanted to die. Actually die. Right there on that table.
Her face burned hotter than she’d thought physically possible. Every word from his mouth was another knife of humiliation twisting in her gut.
"I WASN’T—I DIDN’T MEAN TO—" she tried desperately, but her voice failed as another small tremor rocked through her body, forcing a soft mewl from her lips.
Mamoon’s gaze returned to her daughter. Really looked at her.
The torn latex. The glistening thighs. The fingers still buried knuckle-deep. The way Yuna’s pussy lips were swollen and red, clearly having been worked over extensively. The puddle of clear fluid beneath her raised ass.
And that scent. Gods, that thick, unmistakable scent of a young woman who’d been edging herself for an extended period.
Mamoon’s maternal instincts screamed at her to help, to cover her daughter, to shield her from this humiliation.
But her tactical mind was already processing something else entirely.
Tianlong had kept Yuna in a magical prison. A butterfly prison, based on the dark energy signature she’d sensed during its destruction. That level of spatial magic was—
Her eyes narrowed. "How long was she in there?"
Tianlong tilted his head, pretending to consider. "Oh, since before the battle started, I’d say. So... few hours? Hard to say. Time can be strange in pocket dimensions."
Few hours.
Mamoon’s gaze swept over her daughter again, taking in the state of her with new understanding.
If Yuna had been conscious and trapped in a confined space for hours, unable to escape, unable to do anything but listen to whatever was happening outside while her own body...
’She must have been going insane.’
A different kind of horror settled into Mamoon’s gut.
Not anger at Tianlong—though that was certainly present—but a creeping realization of what her daughter must have experienced.
Isolation. Helplessness. And based on her current state, clearly overwhelming arousal that she’d had no way to properly resolve.
Yuna finally managed to extract her fingers with a wet, obscene sound.
She immediately tried to cover herself, but her torn latex suit provided almost no coverage. Her hands scrambled uselessly, trying to hide her exposed pussy, her ass, anything.
"Please—please don’t look—" she whimpered, tears streaming freely now. "Mother, I—I didn’t—"
But Mamoon was already moving.
She crossed the tent in three strides, her predator grace carrying her swiftly to the table. Her hand landed on Yuna’s shoulder—not roughly, but firmly.
"Breathe," she commanded, her voice losing its edge of shock and returning to that authoritative tone. "Just breathe, I can understand if he have forcefull trapped you in there, he is strong—."
"N-no! Professor didn’t do anything!" Yuna yelled, realizing there was a big misunderstanding happening here.
"Huh?" Mamoon blinked, seeing her daughter suddenly act that way. "What are you talking about?"
