RNP Page 137
Page 137
All her thoughts and senses were focused intently on that one spot on her calf.
She couldn't keep up the act any longer.
The mask that had remained aloof and indifferent for a quarter of an hour, belonging to the esteemed masters of Emei, was trampled into pieces by this rude and impolite foot.
“You…you are so outrageous!”
She finally found her voice, but it was dry, hoarse, and trembling violently without her even realizing it.
Her cheeks flushed red, starting from the base of her neck, and instantly turned bright red all the way to her ears.
It was no longer a shy blush, but a flush mixed with extreme humiliation, horror, and a strange, stimulating redness that she herself was unwilling to admit.
She instinctively tried to pull her leg back, but her body was as if it had been frozen in place, stiff and unable to move.
Her meticulous control over her body, honed through years of internal energy cultivation, betrayed her completely at this moment.
Wang Meng ignored her reprimands, not even lifting his eyelids, and remained leaning there lazily, as if he had just found a place to put his feet.
But his foot started to move.
The thin calluses on the soles of her feet, worn down from martial arts training, began to slowly, with an irresistible force, grind against her calves, against the most sensitive muscles, through the silky brocade fabric.
The sensation was rough and itchy, with a maddening, aggressive heat; every inch of movement felt like a devil's symphony playing on her taut nerves.
His big toe even curled slightly, and with neither too much nor too little force, he slid slowly and humiliatingly up her calf, along the graceful curve of her leg.
The movements were slow yet clear, allowing her to perceive the details of each of his actions.
His feet seemed to have eyes, always finding her most sensitive and uncontrollable spots.
"Hold... stop..."
Fang Yanqing's voice had turned into a suppressed, sobbing whimper.
She struggled to maintain her seated posture, her hands gripping the edge of the stone table tightly, her knuckles turning white from the force, as if trying to draw strength from this to fight against the increasingly turbulent and unfamiliar surge within her body.
At this moment, the internal energy of the Emei Nine Yang Skill within her body completely went out of control.
That pure internal energy, which should have been extremely yang and strong, used to subdue demons and monsters, was stimulated by this foreign true energy from her legs, which was full of male hormones. Instead of serving as a defense, it was like dry wood meeting a raging fire, and with a "boom," it burned up inside her body.
"what……"
With a short, suppressed groan filled with shame and pain, a hot, slightly fishy-smelling stream gushed uncontrollably from Fang Yanqing's private parts, which were covered by her Taoist robe, instantly soaking a large area of her underwear.
Just like that, Wang Meng used his foot to play with her calves through her clothes, and she, the leader of the Emei Sect and a beautiful Taoist nun who had cultivated for many years, was made to lose her body in a shameful way, like a young girl in the throes of first love and easily aroused!
This realization was like a red-hot, poisoned awl that pierced Fang Yanqing's mind, shattering her last remaining shred of reason and dignity.
Her body trembled violently from the sudden, intense shock that nearly made her faint. Her eyes stared blankly ahead, her lips slightly parted as she breathed in the air rapidly and greedily.
The extreme humiliation, like an icy tide, instantly overwhelmed her.
But what followed was not the collapse or anger she had anticipated, but a deeper, more terrifying emptiness.
A frantic, clamoring emptiness that arises after a switch that has never been touched before has been completely flipped.
The entrance to the lower abdomen, which had just experienced a minor storm, not only failed to calm down, but instead, like a greedy little mouth, twitched and contracted even more thirstily, as if silently begging for something more brutal, more direct, and more aggressive to fill and ravage it.
Wang Meng seemed to sense this series of dramatic changes in her body.
His large foot, which had been wreaking havoc on her calf, finally stopped.
He slowly withdrew his leg, placed his foot flat on the ground, then picked up his teacup and took another sip, as if everything that had just happened had nothing to do with him.
An eerie, suffocating silence fell over the courtyard. Only Fang Yanqing's rapid, labored breathing, like that of a broken bellows, echoed in the air.
Her gaze, initially lost and bewildered, gradually regained focus.
The focus was no longer filled with the previous indifference and detachment, nor with the shock and humiliation.
She stared intently at Wang Meng, her gaze as if she wanted to devour him alive.
She bit her tongue hard, and the intense pain gave her body, which had been limp from the orgasm, a renewed sense of strength.
Then, under Wang Meng's slightly surprised gaze, she did something that even he didn't expect.
She didn't run away, nor did she rush at him frantically.
She slowly, with a ritualistic, almost stiff movement, extended her foot. Then, mimicking Wang Meng's earlier actions, she removed her delicate white cloth shoes, revealing a well-maintained, almost perfect jade foot.
It was a foot that was completely different from Wang Meng's large, masculine foot.
It is slender and beautiful, with a perfect arch shape. The skin on the instep is as white as cream, and you can even see a light blue, fine network of blood vessels in the sunlight.
This foot should have been hidden in the most private embroidered shoe, unseen by any outsider.
But now, it carried a resolute determination as if it were about to perish together with the enemy. Then, this perfect, holy jade foot, as beautiful as a work of art, under the table, with a vengeful and provocative force, took the initiative and stepped hard on Wang Meng's long spear, which was already hard and about to explode because of her previous loss of composure, standing tall through her trousers!
"Well!"
Even Wang Meng, caught off guard by her stepping on him, couldn't help but let out a low groan.
Her foot landed squarely on the base of his spear, the force so great that it sent a tingling, numbing sensation straight to his head.
But Fang Yanqing's "counterattack" has only just begun.
She seemed to find a hint of revenge in Wang Meng's muffled groan.
Her face slowly transformed into Wang Meng's cold, emotionless expression, as if she were doing something that had nothing to do with her.
Her upper body even straightened up again, regaining the dignified demeanor befitting the Emei sect leader.
She picked up Wang Meng's teacup from the table, poured herself a cup of tea, and moved calmly, as if nothing had happened.
"Young Master Wang!" Where is Mei? I'm not available, Lin is here...
She spoke, her voice surprisingly calm, even a bit colder than before: "Let's... talk about the plans for Drunken Immortal Pavilion!"
All 120 disciples of my Emei Sect are in place and ready to be deployed at any time.
Her tone was so businesslike and so serious.
But at the same time, under the shadow of the stone table, that jade foot, which should have represented purity and nobility, was doing the most despicable and vile thing in the world.
Her upper body was that of Fang Yanqing, the leader of the Emei Sect, sitting upright with an elegant demeanor, discussing a major event in the martial arts world that concerned the fate of hundreds of people in a clear and cold voice.
Her lower body was a base and utterly enslaved by desire, using her most intimate soles and toes to please a man who had just humiliated her in the most brutal way.
This extreme, jarring contrast gave her an almost twisted, vengeful feeling.
It seemed that only through this self-degrading approach could she regain a sliver of false agency from the overwhelming humiliation.
She picked up her teacup, took a small sip, but her eyes never left Wang Meng's face, as if trying to see any trace of loss of control on his face.
Her feet were now completely pressed against Wang Meng's thick, hard spear.
This was the first time she had ever felt the size and heat of that thing so closely, and even though there were two layers of fabric in between, it still made her heart pound.
She could clearly feel its powerful pulse beneath her feet, like a captive, angry beast.
With a slight push of her arch, her entire foot half-enclosed the enormous, dragon-like thing.
Then, she began to slide her feet up and down slowly, with a grinding force, using the soles of her feet that had been trained in internal energy for decades and were both soft and resilient.
"Zi...Zi..."
The fabric in Wang Meng's crotch was slightly damp from the pre-ejaculate he had ejaculated earlier.
Fang Yanqing's soft soles rubbed against it, producing a barely audible, sticky, watery sound.
Her toes, like the most nimble fingers, spread open and closed, deftly pinching the enormous spearhead wrapped in cloth, kneading it with just the right amount of pressure.
She could even feel the gaps between her toes being moistened by the oozing, viscous, transparent liquid, bringing a slippery sensation that made her feel both nauseous and inexplicably excited.
"We, the disciples of Emei, are skilled in sword formations."
A "Two-Element Dust Array" can be set up at the stairwell between the second and third floors to ensure that not even a fly can get out.
Her voice remained steady, but her nostrils flared slightly, and her breathing became a little more rapid than before.
She could smell a strong, aggressive scent of male hormones rising from under the table, penetrating her nostrils and stimulating every fragile nerve in her body.
Wang Meng remained silent, leaning back in his chair with his eyes slightly narrowed and a cryptic smile playing on his lips—a smile that seemed to be both enjoyment and mockery.
He allowed Fang Yanqing's incredibly beautiful jade foot to do whatever she wanted between his legs.
He could feel his spear about to explode from being caressed by that soft, delicate little foot.
In particular, when she inadvertently crushed his two heavy bullets with her snow-white, rounded heels, a strong, tingling sensation shot straight to the top of his head, causing all the muscles in his body to tense up.
Just as the two were engaged in a silent contest of power, a light, melodious voice, like that of a nightingale, drifted from outside the courtyard gate.
"Master! Master!"
I heard you've returned!
A figure, like a fluttering butterfly, ran in joyfully.
The person who arrived was Zhou Zhiruo.
She wore a light pink dress today, which made her skin look even whiter and her features even more exquisite.
That exquisitely beautiful face, still bearing a touch of girlish innocence, radiated a pure and heartfelt joy.
She was sent to Emei Mountain when she was young. Fang Yanqing was both her teacher and her mother to her, and was the person she respected and was closest to in this world.
I've missed you terribly since we last met.
She ran excitedly into the courtyard and immediately saw the master sitting upright at the stone table.
"master!"
She called out sweetly, ready to pounce on him and act all cute.
But the next second, the smile on her face froze.
She saw a strange and imposing man sitting opposite her master.
She also noticed that her master's face was abnormally pale, and deep in his eyes seemed to be hiding a complex and obsessive emotion that she had never seen before.
An uneasy feeling, like a cold, venomous snake, instantly coiled around her heart.
Her gaze, uncontrollably, slowly moved downwards, following her master's pure white Taoist robe.
She saw it... she saw that her master's pure and flawless jade foot, which should have been hidden in his shoes, was actually bare.
And that foot… that foot she had always considered the most perfect foot in the world, was now… in a position she couldn't understand or imagine, inside a man's… crotch…