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Deep in the countryside of the modern Central Plains lived a powerful cultivator named Shen Qingqiu, birthname Shen Yuan. The name of this mighty master was known to all across the three realms, as was the fact that he was always willing to help those in need.
Shen Qingqiu was known to be kind and elegant. His heart was good and his core pure gold. The Xiu Ya Sword, some called him, but Shen Qingqiu found this laughable. He didn’t need any extra nicknames to himself, content to just spend his days cultivating, getting stronger and helping those who normally couldn’t afford any exorcism services from greedy mega-corporations such as Huan Hua.
Shen Qingqiu was also known not to have any disciples until one day, when everything changed.
First arrived Bingge, a tall, handsome youngster with a long, glorious black hair, a dangerous smirk and bubbling eagerness to learn cultivation from the very best. Shen Qingqiu touched his wrist and let himself bathe in the well of bright, raw spiritual powers, yet untainted with any form of demonic energy many experienced cultivators facing demons in battle often struggled with.
Ultimately, he accepted Bingge as his disciple with a small smile on his face.
Not soon after arrived Binghe, almost a carbon copy of Bingge although younger and even more eager, rather resembling a lost puppy, two reddish eyes twinkling like starry gemstones as he peered at Shen Qingqiu. Shen Qingqiu tested his cultivation, too, and was spellbound once more—what a beautiful, unformed core Binghe had thrumming in his chest! It would be a disservice to the mankind not to train Binghe!
And so, Shen Qingqiu acquired his second disciple.
The three of them spent their days cultivating and training in the Cang Qiong Mountains, learning spells, making charms, cooking and chatting. Or rather, Binghe cooked and Bingge chatted. Shen Qingqiu was just content to listen, because he had never truly realized how lonely he was before his bright, talented, black-haired disciples had come into his world.
Suddenly it was difficult to imagine a life without them.
But alas, such was the role of a Shizun. His disciples were his only to borrow until they grew up to be fine zongshis of their own. And then they would leave Shen Qingqiu once more.
It was a horrible thought and thus, Shen Qingqiu pushed it away and focused on their sword practice, shooting awkward, encouraging smiles at his two wonderful disciples.
The moment the spell hit him, Shen Qingqiu realized he had made a huge mistake by underestimating the screaming, hungry demon they were fighting in a village somewhere near Shuang Hu.
“Shizun!”
Blinking away the dizziness, he turned to see Bingge slice through the dark demon with his spiritual weapon, Xin Mo. On the other side of him, Binghe sent a powerful blast of spiritual energy hurling towards the ugly beast from the palm of his hand, his sword Zheng Yang at his side.
What a perfect form, what a perfect execution, Shen Qingqiu thought blearily as he watched his disciples fight, breathing through a painful shudder. Despite his current predicament, a sense of deep pride bubbled in his chest. His two disciples had grown into such powerful cultivators!
Shen Qingqiu was immensely satisfied but his mood soured immediately. This also meant Binghe and Bingge would no longer need their Shizun, leaving Shen Qingqiu to rot alone in the mountains.
The demon spell wracked his body, turning his veins inside out. Groaning, Shen Qingqiu jumped to face the howling demon. “Xiu Ya, come!” he shouted, and his powerful spiritual weapon Xiu Ya came to life, hacking the demon into pieces. Distantly, he could hear his disciple’s joint cries of “Shizun!” ringing in the air.
Everything finally fell silent as the leftovers of the demon melted into puddles of sticky, black, sizzling goo, finally disappearing. Scrunching his nose in disdain, Shen Qingqiu glanced at Bingge and Binghe, expression melting into a small smile.
“Bingge, Binghe. Well done.”
Both his disciples, so much taller than him, bowed their heads.
“Are you hurt, Shizun?” Bingge asked, concern audible in his deep voice.
“Do you need healing, Shizun?” added Binghe, equally worried.
Shen Qingqiu laughed, although he felt quite pained. His veins were burning up from the spell, body shaking with dark magic. He just didn’t want to worry his disciples. He would ride out the effects of the curse alone—after finding out what kind of a curse it actually was.
“Please. Don’t concern yourselves with this old Shizun,” he chuckled, managing to keep the tremor out of his voice.
“But—” started Binghe, only to be sternly cut off by Shen Qingqiu.
“No buts. Let us return to the inn.”
His tone was final and his two disciples knew better than to fight him. Villagers had already started to flock to the streets, happy and cheering, their faces bubbling with laughter. Finally the demon who had tormented them for so long was gone!
“Xianjun,” the village elder called out.
Shen Qingqiu stopped in front of him and bowed, swaying slightly on his feet and feeling off. He forced a smile on his face. “It’s all taken care of now.”
Both Bingge and Binghe stood behind him, staring at the village elder imploringly.
The village elder nodded, unfazed. “Thank you, Shen-zongshi, thank you. We are forever grateful, the demon has been feasting on our women and children’s fear for ages. Won’t you join us for a feast tonight?”
By the way his body was shivering, Shen Qingqiu already knew he wouldn’t be able to attend. However, that didn’t mean his disciples couldn’t.
“This master is afraid there is some paperwork needing to be filled, data to be fed to the protection app. However, these two disciples of mine will surely enjoy the feast. Thank you.”
He didn’t need to look at Bingge or Binghe—he could sense their displeasure hanging heavy in the air. But he had trained them well and both acquiesced soon.
“Why don’t you wash up and help the villagers prepare?” Shen Qingqiu suggested, eager to be alone. His body felt odd, burning fever skating up his spine.
“Of course, Shizun.”
“At once, Shizun.”
Sighing from relief, he nodded at the village elder in what he hoped was a polite manner, immediately making his way to the inn and his room, leaving his disciples to return alone. They were big boys. They could handle it.
Shucking off his clothes, Shen Qingqiu groaned and burrowed under his blankets, goosebumps erupting all over his flesh, his black, shoulder-length hair sweaty against his scalp. He would bear through this, whatever this was.
Shen Qingqiu woke up drenched in sweat and with a stabbing headache. He was still curled up under his blanket, his body burning up.
“Ngh,” he croaked, throat parched. He was so thirsty, his skin itched from the sensation. His eyes felt wooden, it was difficult to open them.
He rolled over blearily, only to fall on the floor with a thump, body sprawled on the wooden floorboards. Moaning, he tried to get up, pushing his legs together and—
A horrible realization dawned on him, then.
Rubbing his thighs together with a mounting sense of panic, there was a distinctive feeling of something missing.
Shrieking loudly, Shen Qingqiu scrambled to his feet and finally took a good look at his body—his tall yet very female body with two small, round breasts, slender waist, curvy hips and... a throbbing, leaking pussy.
So it was this kind of a curse, he thought hysterically, wobbling to the sink, filling his water bottle and taking a huge sip, quenching his deep thirst. The urge to rub his body against something was becoming unbearable, the need to stick something inside him and just… ride it out.
Ride it out.
Letting out a confused half-sob, half-scream, Shen Qingqiu scampered back to the bed, falling down and writhing against the sheets it as if his skin was aflame.
“Ah, ah,” he whined, need burning in his veins. The sheets chafed against his tender breasts in a wholly unfamiliar way. His cultivation path had always been that of abstinence. Even the brothels, he had gone there to sleep!
He had no idea what to do, how to react, how to make it better, let alone in this—in this scandalous form!
He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so instead he wailed, high-pitched and needy, skin burning and cunt throbbing.
As an afterthought, he really should have kept his voice down because—
“Shizun!”
Two voices rang in the air, followed by knocking, banging and then his door was being forced open, his naked, writhing, heated body right there for his two disciples to lay their eyes on.
“What the fuck?!” Shen Qingqiu croaked. “Why aren’t you, ahhh, at the feast?”
“Shi…zun,” Binghe choked, eyes wide, hand raking through his thick curls nervously.
“Fuck,” Bingge muttered, voice cracking. His dark eyes were burning as they took in the state his Shizun was in, pupils flattening out. “Is Shizun… alright?”
“Never better,” Shen Qingqiu whined, face impossibly red, flush creeping down his neck. He was dripping with slick, milky goo sticking to the dark, neat hairs down there.
Fuck, Shen Qingqiu still didn’t want to think about… that.
But it only got worse. He moved and, to his utmost horror, his tits bounced a little with the movement. Eyes wide with shame, he turned to face his disciples.
“Bingge,” Binghe was saying hoarsely, as if in a daze, “I think… Shizun needs out help.”
Next to him, Bingge nodded gravelly, licking his lips. His fists were clenched at his sides, nails digging into the skin. Then they both turned to stare at Shen Qingqiu with predatory leers on their faces.
Shen Qingqiu squeaked, falling back into the sheets, legs spreading as if on their own accord, revealing his cursed body for his disciples once and for all.
“Fuck, Shizun,” Bingge growled, eyes glued to Shen Qingqiu’s wet, peachy cunt.
Shen Qingqiu stared at them and gulped, watched as they stripped off their robes and belts, their boots and pants… and then they were all naked before him, two solid, hot heavenly pillars ready to deflower Shen Qingqiu.
And Shen Qingqiu, he really did try to close his eyes, really did try not to look, but the curse was running rampant inside him, awakening something equally greedy in his very core. It was impossible not to see those two rock hard pillars, jutting in the air, swollen and red and ready to rail him to the next week.
“Nn,” Shen Qingqiu whined, wetting his lips. All thoughts were flying away from his head at an alarmingly fast pace.
And then they were upon him, Binghe’s mouth gnawing at his lips while Bingge sucked one of his tits into his mouth, tonguing at the super sensitive nipple.
Shen Qingqiu writhed and squirmed, whining into Binghe’s insistent mouth as Bingge kept teasing his boobs with his hands and lips, tormenting him impossibly. He rubbed his cunt against the muscled thigh pushing against it. It was impossible to tell whether it belonged to Bingge or Binghe; he only knew the pressure against his burning cunt felt fantastic, pleasurable sparks blooming all over his body.
“Shizun,” Bingge rumbled, sucking on his abused nipple eagerly, hands stroking up and down his sides. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
Binghe was still kissing him, his tongue exploring every nook and cranny of his mouth eagerly. Drool was dripping out of from the seams of his lips and his eyes were scrunched tightly shut.
“Do you like it, Shizun?” whined Binghe, directly into his mouth. “These disciples are here to serve.”
Bingge nodded, looking devilish. “Indeed. I believe we need to triple cultivate to save Shizun from qi deviation.” He moved to another breast, laving the nipple with his tongue, big sweeping motions that made Shen Qingqiu burn with want. Whimpering, he barely understood what was being said.
Triple cultivation? Qi deviation? This didn’t feel like qi deviation, rather like an exceptionally strong lust curse. But maybe he was just too gone to realize the severity of the situation. His disciples surely wouldn’t joke about something like this!
Turning his attention inward, he realized his meridians were a mess indeed, spiritual energy swirling about like a crazed beast.
“Aaah,” he moaned. “Bing... ah!”
Bingge’s hands grabbed his hips, sharp fingernails digging into his newly acquired soft, meaty curves. “It’s alright, Shizun. We’ll take care of you.”
They pulled away and for a moment Shen Qingqiu wanted to scream. He needed to be touched, his core was about to shatter this very moment unless they come right back!
But then, finally, there was a merciful touch on his pussy, a finger pushing between his gleaming, wet folds, teasing his clit before wiggling into his hole. Shen Qingqiu trembled and sobbed, bearing his hips down, clenching around the single digit.
“Hush, Shizun,” Bingge growled, the palm of his hand rubbing against Shen Qingqiu’s clit as his finger explored his soft insides.
They maneuvered him so that he was on his hands and knees, Binghe’s pitifully leaking, absurdly large cock right in front of his face. He instinctively knew what to do, opening his mouth and sucking the tip inside. Binghe let out a long, low groan, gently pushing his cock deeper into his mouth until Shen Qingqiu choked on it. At the same time, Bingge spread his cheeks and brought his mouth to his hole, lapping at the pink, puckered, winking entrance eagerly.
Shizun, pretty Shizun, so good, so beautiful, so powerful, so fucking sexy, they kept murmuring, decadent words and whispers lingering in the humid air.
Shen Qingqiu’s head wasn’t keeping up at all with Binghe feeding his ridiculously thick cock into his throat just as Bingge pushed his ridiculously long tongue inside his hole. Two hands gripped the meat of his ass, kneading it in tune with Bingge’s tongue and Binghe’s thrusts.
Shen Qingqiu, speared from both ends, was unraveling at a terribly fast speed, tears leaking from his eyes. The wave of ecstasy inside him was right there and yet, no one was touching him where he wanted to be touched the most.
His… pussy.
He felt faint at the thought, so distracted that he failed to notice Bingge pull away and replace his mouth with his slicked up finger, pushing it inside his tight ass. He had no idea where his disciple had suddenly sourced lubricant from, but was too gone to care.
Groaning around Binghe’s fat cock, Shen Qingqiu relaxed his throat and swallowed around it again and again. Binghe groaned and pumped his hips more forcefully, his hands holding Shen Qingqiu’s head in place as he fucked his mouth. And what was that? Clear droplets of water were falling down on Shen Qingqiu’s head, sparkling like crystal.
Binghe was… crying?
Shen Qingqiu coughed, sputtering around the heavenly pillar in his mouth, clenching on the finger inside him. Being invaded from both ends made his body shake and tremble, and he was vaguely aware of his breasts swinging with each powerful, tormenting thrust. Embarrassment flooded him and he silently cursed the lust demon.
Bingge pushed another finger inside his hole, scissoring them around and loosening him up, licking his spine and muttering filthy nonsense against each bump. At three fingers Shen Qingqiu was ready to explode, his swollen pussy desperately throbbing and begging to be touched and licked and worshipped and filled.
He was sobbing around Binghe’s shaft, fat tears straining his cheeks, mixing with those of Binghe himself.
“Sweet Shizun,” Bingge uttered darkly, removing his fingers. “Are you ready?”
Shen Qingqiu merely garbled, eyes closed, incoherent with the lust burning in his veins.
Binghe huffed and pulled away, mouth hanging open with pleasure. His rock hard shaft was glistening with precum and drool as he laid down on his back, legs slightly spread in anticipation. The head was red and shiny.
Bingge gathered Shen Qingqiu into his arms, lifting him easily despite his height, arms snaking around the back of his knees, pinning them against his body. How powerful were his disciples, really?!
Shen Qingqiu could only blink once, twice, before his naughty disciple lowered him directly on Binghe’s weeping cock, ass first.
The pressure against his stretched hole was almost unbearable and Shen Qingqiu trashed in Bingge’s arms from shock. Behind him, Binghe kept rubbing soothing patterns on the sweaty skin of his back as Bingge manhandled him ruthlessly, spearing him on Binghe’s cock until Shen Qingqiu was seated on his lap, having taken the whole thing inside his ass against all odds.
Shen Qingqiu whined. He was so full and still! No one was touching him there.
“Please, please,” he begged hoarsely, pained whimpers leaving his red, puffy lips.
Binghe encircled his waist and pulled him down to lie with his back against Binghe’s chest, his dick buried deep inside Shen Qingqiu like a fucking organic support beam.
Shen Qingqiu stared mutely at Bingge, tall and muscular, brilliant and dangerous, as he knelt between Shen Qingqiu’s legs, pushing them apart and spreading his pink, pulsing pussy for him to feast his eyes on. With Bingge’s heated gaze on him and Binghe’s cock carving its shape inside his ass, pumping and dragging and nudging, Shen Qingqiu was sure he was only moments away from actually qi deviating by sex.
“Shizun,” Bingge said darkly before shaking out of his stupor, spreading him open even more and diving in, mouth pushing into his folds.
“Haaah,” Shen Qingqiu squealed, canting his hips to receive more sensations from Bingge but only proceeding to force Binghe’s cock deeper, to stretch his rim wider. “Fuck!” he croaked empathetically.
Between his legs, Bingge licked and sucked around his folds, gently pushing inside and fucking his hole before proceeding to tap his clit repeatedly, an incessant pressure that pushed Shen Qingqiu closer to the edge. He moaned and trembled, sweating profusely as Bingge ate him out greedily, accompanied by horrible slurping sounds, while Binghe fucked his ass. Swearing out loud, Shen Qingqiu was sure he could feel Binghe’s cock all the way in his heart; he was so full of it, full of his disciple.
A small part of his mind told him that all this was highly improper, that Shizuns shouldn’t be sharing their bed with their disciples, but he was far too gone to really care, reduced to a horny mess as Bingge proceeded to suck at his clit, lips pursed around the little nub to create a blissful vacuum of pure ecstasy. It felt so good, so unfamiliar, Shen Qingqiu had never experienced anything like this, having always abstained from everything for the sake of his cultivation…
Screaming, he knew he was finally going to come, he was just about to—
But then Bingge pulled away, leaving him hanging.
“No, please,” Shen Qingqiu cried out in panic, toes curling, eyes flying open, clenching around Binghe’s cock and making him grunt. “Please!”
“Hush, Shizun,” Binghe whispered against his neck and cupped his breasts, each of them fitting perfectly in the palms of his hands, his thumbs teasing the peaked, sensitive nipples.
Shen Qingqiu closed his eyes and relaxed into the touch, pulsing panic abating. He faintly registered Bingge spreading his legs even further, pushing his knees up before something huge and blunt nudged at his virgin entrance, prodding and probing before promptly pushing in.
A full-body shudder zigzagged through him as realization hit his addled brain. Not only did he have Binghe’s heavenly pillar buried deep inside his ass but Bingge, too, was in the middle of feeding his enormous cock inside his cunt.
Mere seconds ago he had been a virgin both as a male and a female, and now he was being double penetrated by his disciples’ huge cocks, both of them throbbing inside him. His pussy was leaking and wet and needy, and his rim was stretched impossibly tight.
He couldn’t believe a female body could do this! How… unnatural.
Bingge choked as he pushed forward, his hold on Shen Qingqiu’s thighs becoming tighter. “Fuck! You’re so fucking tight, Shizun!”
“Yeah,” Binghe panted, moving his hips and burying his cock deeper into Shen Qingqiu’s ass. “Shizun is so good for these disciples.” He started sobbing again, emotions bleeding into the movements of his hips.
Bingge nodded, a crazed look spreading all over his face, lighting his eyes and—wait? What was that on his forehead—? His next words sent Shen Qingqiu’s half-formed thoughts scattering: “We’re going to wreck you, Shizun. Breed you until you’re round with our babies.”
Then he laughed and started fucking Shen Qingqiu in earnest.
“Fuck! Hnnh! Ah ah ah,” Shen Qingqiu moaned. He had two cocks inside him, hands on his—fuck!—tits, every bit of his skin touched and caressed and kissed and probed. He was so full, so unbelievingly full, all his senses exploding into a ball of white light.
”Shizun is so loud,” Binghe groaned. ”A good thing we put a sound barrier around the room.”
“Shizun, open up your body for us,” Bingge hissed, sinking deeper just as Binghe snapped his hips upward, spearing him mercilessly.
Shen Qingqiu felt hysterical. He was plenty open! He couldn’t possibly be opened more! But wait.
Ah.
His meridians. Right.
Eyes closing, Shen Qingqiu let his meridians bloom open, ready to accept his disciples’ spiritual energy and absorb it to banish the curse. He came, whimpering and clamping down on the shafts inside him, milking them eagerly just as Bingge and Binghe released, too, pushing their spiritual energy inside his body.
As the surge of his disciple’s joint powers washed over his meridians and core, centering on his lower dantian. Shen Qingqiu lost consciousness. The last thing he felt was of being snugly sandwiched between his tall, dear disciples, legs spread apart, cum leaking out of both of his holes.
“Shizun? Shizun?”
He slowly came to awareness, blinking at the wet, dragging sensation on his skin.
Ah.
Bingge was cleaning him up with a washcloth, a small, smug grin on his face.
“How are you feeling?” It was Binghe. He sounded hesitant.
“I…” Shen Qingqiu noted hoarsely, unable to say anything more. His whole body was still buzzing, the lingering sensation of foreign spiritual energy all-consuming.
“It’s alright,” Bingge murmured, kissing his belly, grazing it with his sharp canines.
Binghe moved and kissed his cheek. “See. Shizun is back to normal.”
Shen Qingqiu lifted his upper body just enough to see a familiar-looking, rather mid-sized dick where his pussy had been before he had passed out. His boobs, too, were gone, his chest flat once more.
He blinked, not sure what to think about it. It wasn’t as if he missed them. It was just that…
“Thank you?” he croaked, blinking owlishly, still not feeling quite himself.
Bingge and Binghe smiled, but there was something nasty in their grins, something that made Shen Qingqiu’s belly knot uncomfortably.
Danger.
Hunger.
Want.
“Oh, Shizun,” Bingge murmured and leaned in to kiss him deeply, devouring him to bits.
“I think we need to triple cultivate some more to stabilize Shizun,” noted Binghe.
“Indeed. To breed him,” agreed Bingge before pouncing.
“Mm,” Binghe growled and bit his ear. “Bet Shizun can take us both in this form, too.”
Help, Shen Qingqiu internally wailed before all rationality was promptly pushed out of his mind.
In the end, Shen Qingqiu and his two demon disciples, Luo Binghe and Luo Bingge, happily triple-cultivated all the way into immortality.