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It’s time for The Talk.

Shen Qingqiu considers himself lucky. Instead of the mortifying, euphemism-ridden conversation that many of his peers in the modern world seem to have had with their parents or older siblings, everything he knows about sex he learned from the internet, and then later, from experimentation.

He isn’t sure if his disciples should be considered more or less lucky.

Every year or two, Cang Qiong Mountain Sect invites a few of the ladies (sometimes a couple of the men) from the Warm Red Pavilion to come and educate the disciples who need it.

This is the papapa-filled world of Proud Immortal Demon Way, though, so these lessons are as hands-on as one might expect from a porn writer.

Shen Qingqiu had actually forgotten this aspect of the Proud Immortal Demon Way world. If it were up to him, multiple generations of disciples might have accidentally gone without some crucial knowledge without anybody even realizing it.

Luckily, Shang Qinghua is both shameless about his own writing and in charge of logistics for the sect, so when the Warm Red Pavilion instructors arrive on his doorstep (and after Shen Qingqiu has figured out what the hell is going on here), all he has to do is keep his habitual mask of indifference on his face as he hands his young disciples off to the professionals to take care of.

But there is a fluffy head conspicuously missing from the crowd. 

Well, not missing. Shen Qingqiu knows exactly where Luo Binghe is, because he personally tucked Luo Binghe back into bed just this morning and left him with a stern warning not to leave the bamboo hut until his cold subsided. There was a rattle in his chest that Shen Qingqiu didn’t like, and he was planning to make a beeline for the kitchen for some soothing tea.

How could he have known that he would step outside to find Airplane’s stupid idea of sex ed standing on his doorstep?

Shen Qingqiu shakes his head in despair. How can the person who’ll need this knowledge the most be missing at a crucial time like this? System, how can you let Luo Binghe be sick at a time like this?!

A loud moan echoes from the hall where the lessons are being held.

...Right. That’s Shen Qingqiu’s cue to leave.

Shen Qingqiu has never heard a thing in his life. His ears don’t work. His head is empty, he has no thoughts.

His face is still bright red as he ducks into the kitchen and digs frantically through the collection of dried herbs for Luo Binghe’s tea.

After bringing tea and some weak broth back to the bamboo hut and watching with an eagle’s eye as Luo Binghe gulps it down between sneezes, Shen Qingqiu heads off to An Ding Peak to see about arranging private… ahem, lessons for Luo Binghe.


“Sorry, bro, I can’t help you. Do you know how much paperwork it takes to get guest passes for the instructors to come onto the mountains? Even with a year’s worth of advance notice, it’s a headache and a half!” Shang Qinghua shrinks back as he delivers the bad news.

Shen Qingqiu scowls. “He’s the protagonist! You call him your son! Can’t you bend the rules for him?”

Shang Qinghua puffs up to his full (not very impressive) height. “Policy is policy! If I forgo the paperwork now, it’ll be more of a headache for me later!”

Shen Qingqiu groans but doesn’t argue. He’s made that mistake before, and it can only end with Yue Qingyuan getting involved, frowning at both of them— “I’m not angry, shidi, just disappointed.”

Yeah, better to avoid that.

Shang Qinghua furrows his brow, thinking. “You could take Luo Binghe down to the Warm Red Pavilion. That way no outsiders need to come here.”

“Absolutely not!” Shen Qingqiu snaps. “My reputation is already bad enough as it is. No need to be seen corrupting a disciple by bringing him to a brothel.” He pauses. “Incidentally, it’s kind of fucked up that we hire the prostitutes to do sex ed and it’s all fine when it’s official, but if I visit the brothel where those same prostitutes work, it’s shameful.”

Shang Qinghua winces. “I… I wasn’t thinking too hard about it when I did the worldbuilding, okay? I’m working on fixing it, but it’s slow going.” Then, eager to change the subject, he says, “Okay, so hear me out.”

Shen Qingqiu raises an eyebrow. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Bro,” Shang Qinghua whines. “Listen. This is also worldbuilding. It’s also weird, sorry. But traditionally, if a student misses the sex ed lessons, their master is supposed to take up the responsibility.” 

Now that he mentions it, Shen Qingqiu does remember reading something like that. As an explanation for why Wife Number 129 was so naive when it came to having sex, maybe?

Anyways, as much as Shen Qingqiu wants to cry at the thought of teaching Luo Binghe how sex works, it’s not something he can beat Shang Qinghua up over. (Well, he could beat him up just for kicks, but he likes having the moral high ground.)

So he goes back to the bamboo hut, and a week or so later, once Luo Binghe is back to full strength, he presents Luo Binghe with options.

“In this master’s opinion, it would be best for me to explain the theory verbally for now, and then next year Binghe can receive hands-on instruction from the Warm Red Pavilion with his fellow disciples.”

He thinks it’s sound reasoning! Luo Binghe is only sixteen— and he still lives in his teacher’s house, at that! There’s plenty of time before Luo Binghe will be having sex with anybody!

But Luo Binghe looks up at him with sparkling eyes and eagerly says, “Begging Shizun’s pardon, this disciple would feel much more at ease if he could have the honor of learning personally from Shizun.”

Shen Qingqiu’s brow twitches. Laying it on a little thick there, ah, disciple?

And why would you think this master would be a better teacher than the people who literally do this for a living?

Shen Qingqiu has deep concerns about the protagonist’s future ability to handle his harem.

Nevertheless, he sighs and promises to find some time to dedicate to Luo Binghe’s education. It’s not bending the protagonist, he reasons, if he’s the bottom. A body is a body, and hey, he mostly skimmed the sex scenes after Wife Number 80. Maybe one or two of Luo Binghe’s harem have cocks.

(Besides, Shen Qingqiu justifies to himself, not everybody gets a chance to take a ride on the protagonist’s cock! It’s a once in a lifetime chance!!)



Shen Qingqiu is having some second thoughts.

He gulps, eyeing the pillar jutting out from Luo Binghe’s lap.

Did you know anything about physics when you wrote this, Airplane??

“Shizun?” Luo Binghe asks hesitantly, hands hovering at his crotch as if unsure whether or not to cover himself up.

Luo Binghe, why are you hiding! What do you have to be ashamed of!

Shen Qingqiu gives himself a brisk shake. Time to teach! Be professional!

“It’s nothing,” he says, clearing his throat. “This master is just thinking about where to begin Luo Binghe’s instruction.”

Luo Binghe nods eagerly. “Shizun knows best!”

“...” Take it easy on the compliments. This old man’s skin is very thin, Luo Binghe!

Shen Qingqiu sighs and methodically strips out of his robes, until he’s as naked as his disciple on the bed.

(Luo Binghe had tried to protest doing it on Shen Qingqiu’s bed, fretting about dirtying the sheets, but like hell Shen Qingqiu was going to teach his disciple how to fuck in his student’s bed. They ended up compromising by removing the hardest-to-clean materials.)

Shen Qingqiu sits on the edge of the bed and turns to make sure the pot of oil that he requisitioned from Shang Qinghua is within easy reach.

When he turns back to face his disciple, Luo Binghe appears to have stopped breathing. His eyes are dark, dragging over Shen Qingqiu’s exposed skin until Shen Qingqiu swears he can feel the path of his gaze burning across his chest.

He coughs to regain Luo Binghe’s attention.

“Let’s start with something simple,” he says, pretending like he knows what he’s doing.

Before he can double-guess himself, he reaches out with one hand and strokes it down the side of Luo Binghe’s face. Luo Binghe’s eyes flutter shut and he presses his cheek more firmly into Shen Qingqiu’s caress.

“There are lots of places that can make your partner feel good,” Shen Qingqiu says as evenly as he can. “It’s not all just inserting Tab A into Slot B.”

Luo Binghe makes a noise of displeasure when Shen Qingqiu’s hand drops away from his face, but it’s drowned out by the moan that he lets out when that same hand brushes over the flat, dusky disk of his nipple.

To be honest, Shen Qingqiu wasn’t sure if nipple play was going to do anything for Luo Binghe, but this makes his point nicely.

He flicks the pad of his finger over the tip of that little brown nub, watching breathlessly as it pouts into a peak and Luo Binghe’s chest rises and falls at an alarming rate.

When he glances up at Luo Binghe’s face, his disciple is red-cheeked and biting at his lip so hard that Shen Qingqiu is worried he’s going to draw blood.

With his free hand, he reaches up and tugs Luo Binghe’s bottom lip free from between his teeth.

“Be gentle with yourself,” he scolds, running his thumb over that plump lower lip. It’s glistening and unreasonably soft.

“Mmmhm!” Luo Binghe responds, eyes darting up and down as if he’s not sure whether to focus on the touch to his mouth or the finger still playing with his nipple.

A cruel urge flashes across Shen Qingqiu’s mind, and without a second thought, he pinches the nipple between his nails, tugging it this way and that.

Luo Binghe’s eyes fly wide open and he doubles over with a squeak, breathing hard. His hands fly to his chest but don’t dare to dislodge Shen Qingqiu’s hold on the sensitive flesh, unsure if this is part of the lesson.

“Sorry, sorry.” Shen Qingqiu immediately lets go and hastens to soothe the sting with soft touches. “Shizun is sorry, that wasn’t nice of me.”

Luo Binghe turns his face and nuzzles into the wrist attached to the hand that’s now lightly petting his nipple. “Shizun can be as mean to me as he likes.”

…Airplane-bro, why did you write your protagonist as such an M?! Shen Qingqiu despairs, his stomach fluttering.

As an apology, Shen Qingqiu turns his attention away from Luo Binghe’s poor nipples. He runs his hands over the rest of Luo Binghe’s torso, smoothing his palms along his disciple’s broad shoulders and impressive pecs, down the lines of his stomach and dipping along the V of his hips.

He’s not even done growing yet! Shen Qingqiu has seen how much this boy eats! What kind of monster is he going to be by the time he finishes growing?!

Luo Binghe shudders, back arching like a cat desperate for more pets. He seems to especially like it when Shen Qingqiu lets his nails scratch lightly along the skin.

“Shizun… Shizun…” he moans, catching one of Shen Qingqiu’s hands and pressing desperate kisses to the middle of the palm. “Shizun, please…”

Shen Qingqiu snatches his hand back, flustered. How is he supposed to keep things professional if Luo Binghe acts like this?!

“Okay!” he says, clutching his own hand to his chest as if worried that Luo Binghe will try and grab hold of it again. “I think that’s enough warm-up!”

He swallows hard.

“Lube! Luo Binghe, lubrication is very important! Look at this.” He takes the pot of oil and waves it in Luo Binghe’s face, speaking a little too loudly in his agitation.

“Lubrication?” Luo Binghe tilts his head curiously. “Lubrication for what, Shizun?” He looks down. “It’s already wet.”

Shen Qingqiu wants to cry. Yes, you’re very impressive, Luo Binghe, your cock is dripping, but trust me!! With a heavenly pillar of that size, if you don’t use even more lube you’ll tear your partner in half!

Instead of answering, he sits down between Luo Binghe’s knees and then slowly spreads his legs. With a face so hot he could fry an egg on it, he reaches down and spreads the cheeks as well.

Luo Binghe’s attention immediately snaps to the pucker between those cheeks. Shen Qingqiu’s asshole clenches and relaxes, feeling the weight of Luo Binghe’s gaze.

He holds back a nervous laugh, waiting until he’s regained control over his voice before saying, “You can touch if you want.”

Maybe it’s not exactly the same as the equipment most of your future wives will have, but the theory is almost the same. Right??

Luo Binghe wastes no time in tapping his fingers against Shen Qingqiu’s twitching hole, watching Shen Qingqiu breathe out a surprised “ Ah!” at the contact. Shen Qingqiu can feel his calloused fingertips circling around the rim of his hole, spiraling inward until the pads of his fingers are resting against the very center.

“It’s like you’re kissing me, Shizun,” Luo Binghe says in awe, pushing until just the tip of his index finger bullies its way past the constriction of Shen Qingqiu’s muscles. 

“Ah—!” Shen Qingqiu’s legs snap closed around Luo Binghe’s hand. “Binghe, don’t— Use the oil!”

“Sorry, Shizun!” Luo Binghe yelps. “This disciple was wrong!” He hurries to pull his finger out, and Shen Qingqiu jolts at the sudden friction. His hips cant upward, chasing the touch.

“Enough!” He sits up, batting Luo Binghe’s hand away as it reaches for the pot of oil. “This master will prepare himself!”

Luo Binghe settles back with a pout, but he doesn’t dare to voice a protest.

Shen Qingqiu pants a little as he leans forward, quickly pressing two oil-coated fingers into himself. He’s only done this before a couple of times, but he knows how it works. Mindful of Luo Binghe’s size and inexperience, he decides to play it safe and dips back into the pot for more oil.

He’s trying to be professional, but his body doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo. His hole twitches helplessly as he shoves his fingers inside, the velvety walls gripping the appendages tightly. It takes him several minutes to loosen himself up, slippery folds rippling and furnace-hot.

His lips almost press against the smooth skin of Luo Binghe’s chest, which rises and falls in time with the rapid breathing that he can feel ruffling his hair. Underneath him, he can see that Luo Binghe seems to have gotten harder since they began their lesson. His cock is so dark red that it looks almost painful, and it twitches whenever Shen Qingqiu breathes out. A silvery trail of precum dribbles from the head, smearing across the delicate skin every time Luo Binghe moves.

He sneaks a glance up at Luo Binghe’s face, and sure enough, there are tears in the corners of Luo Binghe’s eyes. The poor thing looks utterly wrecked, and they haven’t even done anything yet!

Or maybe it’s because they haven’t done anything yet.

Shen Qingqiu steels himself and, after one last thrust of his oiled fingers, climbs into Luo Binghe’s lap.

Maybe it’s not strictly traditional, but this way he’ll have more control over the situation. He is the teacher here, after all.

It's just a lesson. Just a lesson.

“Shizun…?” Luo Binghe whispers.

Shen Qingqiu hushes him, holding the base of that unrealistically enormous cock and feeding the tip of it into his hole. He slowly sinks down onto it, one hand braced on Luo Binghe’s chest.

“Ahh—” he gasps as he feels the length of it pressing into him. His hole spasms involuntarily, sucking lewdly at Luo Binghe’s cock. It’s far, far wider than even four of his fingers combined, and it’s blood-hot against his squirming insides.

For a moment, he considers that perhaps he should stop and stretch himself with a toy first, but the idea of admitting that he’s unprepared to take Luo Binghe’s cock on the first try stings his pride too much to be borne.

He's here to teach. Luo Binghe needs him to be the expert.

“Shizun!” Luo Binghe’s breath hitches, muscles trembling with the effort of staying still as Shen Qingqiu impales himself on his cock. “Shizun, you’re so soft inside… You’re so warm…”

Shen Qingqiu lifts a shaking hand and pats his cheek. “Stay just like that, Binghe. Let me just get a feel for what I’m working with.”

He squeezes, just a little, and his vision whites out for a split second as his walls pulse around the hot, hard length of Luo Binghe’s cock inside of him. Pleasure sparks through his lower body and his nipples tighten in reaction.

“So big,” he moans, putting both hands on Luo Binghe’s chest so that he can lever himself up and down. His hole squelches around that thick flesh as he moves.

Luo Binghe whimpers at the praise, and Shen Qingqiu figures— what the heck? It’s good for teachers to tell their students when they’ve done well.

So he raises his voice to be heard over the sound of his skin slapping against Luo Binghe’s and continues, “Binghe is so deep inside of me. There’s so much of your cock, stuffing me full—” 

Tears run down Luo Binghe’s cheeks as he watches Shen Qingqiu sit on his cock. “Shizun is so good to me,” the boy sobs, fingers clawing at the sheets beneath him.

Shen Qingqiu lifts himself up until just the head of Luo Binghe’s cock is inside his grasping hole, biting his lip to distract himself from the emptiness that’s left behind, and then he drops slowly back down, trying to find just the right angle.

Then, on the seventh try, Luo Binghe’s cock hits something when Shen Qingqiu is halfway down, and he jolts forward so hard that his hands slip against Luo Binghe’s sweaty chest. Without that support, he suddenly finds himself taking the entirety of Luo Binghe’s cock at once.

The breath is punched out of him.

“Oh!” he cries, feeling the spot that must be his prostate rubbing hard against the length of that cock as it bullies its way into him. “Ah, no, too fast—”

But even as he says it, he’s rising back up on his hands and knees so that he can ride Luo Binghe’s cock with abandon, desperately chasing that friction.

“Shizun, oh, oh, Shizun, can I—” 

Shen Qingqiu is too focused on the hot glide of cock in his hole to hear Luo Binghe’s desperate question, and at first he doesn’t even realize that Luo Binghe’s hips are rising up to meet him.

The building pleasure grows and grows until Shen Qingqiu thinks he might explode with it. He's completely lost control of the lesson at this point. 

The thought alarms him, and he tries to slow down, only to realize that he can’t, because Luo Binghe’s cock is still hammering into him at top speed.

“Binghe, what are you— Oh, oh, ahh, Binghe, slow down!” he gasps, voice thick with shock. “Ah, ahhhh, Binghe, no— Too fast—”

He scrambles to get his hands and knees under him, but the cock plunging repeatedly into him robs him of all ability to move.

Luo Binghe sobs, hips still pistoning away. “I can’t, Shizun, my hips are moving on their own. I can’t stop, please, Shizun, it feels too good!” His cock nails Shen Qingqiu’s prostate with each pass.

Shen Qingqiu writhes, trying in vain to regain control of the situation even as Luo Binghe spears him open. “ Ah, no, Binghe! No, no, no, Binghe— Slow— slow down—! Ahhhh—”

“It’s so hot inside you, Shizun,” Luo Binghe cries. “You’re so soft here, I can’t stop!”

Shen Qingqiu can feel his walls throb in time with his heartbeat, clinging to Luo Binghe every time he withdraws despite the copious amounts of oil. His rim is stretched taut, every single nerve ending alight as the thickness of Luo Binghe’s cock forces it wide open.

“Binghe!” he begs, trying for stern and absolutely missing. 

White-hot humiliation sears through him as he bounces with the force of Luo Binghe's thrusts.

This is his disciple! His young, inexperienced, eager-to-please disciple!

This is white lotus Luo Binghe who's spearing his cock deep into Shen Qingqiu's body with every jerk of his hips!

He has to stop this! He has to wrench himself away from the cock that's pounding his ass, take some time to get ahold of himself!

But it's so big, it's so good—

“I can’t stop, I’m sorry!” Luo Binghe’s eyes are bright with tears. “Look, Shizun, your hole won’t let me go! Ah, ah, Shizun, please, I’m sorry, my hips won’t listen to me—!”

He gives a particularly hard thrust of his cock, and Shen Qingqiu’s eyes roll back into his head. His mind is blanketed in white, unable to tell where one thrust ends and the next begins. Instead, all he feels is a steady crescendo of mind-numbing sensation. 

Saliva pools in his mouth as he’s jostled up and down, and he doesn’t have the presence of mind to swallow it or wipe it away. The only thing he can focus on is taking Luo Binghe’s cock.

“So big,” he gurgles, “so hot. Too much, Binghe—”

Suddenly, without warning, he topples over the edge. His hole clamps down on the invading length, which continues to pull out and slam back in, and his cock twitches violently as he comes all over Luo Binghe’s stomach.

When he comes down from the high of his orgasm, Luo Binghe’s cock is still slamming into his sensitive hole, so he strains his thigh muscles, trying desperately to lift himself out of danger. But Luo Binghe chases him up off the bed, cock bottoming out just like before.

Before Shen Qingqiu can even understand what just happened, Luo Binghe’s hands come up to grab him by the hips and force him back down onto that merciless cock.

“What… oh—!” His tongue feels like cotton in his mouth. 

It's absolutely too much. His hole is still soft and open from his orgasm, and every stroke of Luo Binghe's cock rides the edge between pleasure and pain. He flinches at the overwhelming stimulation, but there's nowhere for him to go. 

He's utterly powerless to escape from the hungry thrusts of that cock. He has no choice but to take what Luo Binghe gives him.

“Shizun, help me,” Luo Binghe pleads tearily, this time attacking Shen Qingqiu both from above and below, hips and hands working together so that the smack of Shen Qingqiu’s ass meeting Luo Binghe’s thighs echoes around the room, embarrassingly loud.

Shen Qingqiu’s mouth falls open at the sudden impact, the heat of Luo Binghe’s cock against his already overheated insides. To his surprise, his cock spurts again.

“B-Binghe,” he chokes out, almost swallowing his tongue as his disciple yanks him up and down and ruts into him like he’s a toy. “Binghe, please, stop— Let me go, oh, oh, it’s too much! I can’t!”

Luo Binghe lets out another sob, sounding like his world is ending. “I can’t stop, Shizun, I’m so close—” His grip on Shen Qingqiu’s hips tightens. “Shizun, help me, please— Let me—”

Shen Qingqiu barely has time to nod, eyes blurry with tears and unsure of what exactly he’s agreeing to, before Luo Binghe shouts and buries his cock deep in Shen Qingqiu’s ass, coming long and hard.

That’s the end of that, then. Shen Qingqiu lets out a relieved sob, waiting for Luo Binghe’s thrusts to slow.

...He keeps waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

“Luo Binghe!” he cries thickly, unable to believe what his body is telling him as Luo Binghe continues to fuck him through the aftershocks of his own orgasm.

“It’s still hard, Shizun,” Luo Binghe whines. “Please, I—”

Incredible!! He didn’t even go soft for a second! It must be nice to be so blessed, Mr. Protagonist!

Shen Qingqiu is furious about it, but he’s also gasping for breath by this point. His face is wet with tears and saliva, but he doesn’t have time to feel disgusted by the mess. He tosses his head, trying to squirm away from Luo Binghe’s hold.

“Shizun, don’t—”

“I really can’t, it’s too much!” Shen Qingqiu wails, squeezing his hole tight to try and keep Luo Binghe’s cock from burrowing back inside, but the oversensitivity of his rim means that he just makes everything worse for himself. And it doesn’t even stop Luo Binghe from shoving his cock back inside his hole.

In fact, Luo Binghe groans like he’s been struck by lightning, and the brutal pace of his hips picks up even more. 

Shen Qingqiu feels the tears streaming down his cheeks as he tries his best to put up a struggle, clenching his hole whenever Luo Binghe withdraws to try and keep him out on the next thrust. But with the speed at which Luo Binghe is fucking him, it’s inevitable that he eventually mistimes it.

He squeezes down right as Luo Binghe fucks into him.

Luo Binghe shouts. “Shizun, Shizun, ohhh, that feels so good! Do that again, please, Shizun!”

Without any warning, he reaches up and pinches Shen Qingqiu’s nipples. Shen Qingqiu cries out and tries to jerk away, unconsciously tightening around Luo Binghe’s cock as he does so.

"Yes, yes, Shizun, so good, just like that—"

“Aaahh, Binghe—!” Shen Qingqiu shrieks as Luo Binghe discovers that he can flick and pinch his teacher's nipples rhythmically to make him clench down with each thrust.

Nearly out of his mind with lust, Shen Qingqiu tries to pull away, but Luo Binghe refuses to let go of his poor nipples. Instead, the dark cherry-red flesh stretches obscenely as Shen Qingqiu’s desperate attempt at escaping causes Luo Binghe to tug hard on them.

Shen Qingqiu yowls and bursts into tears. Without conscious input from his brain, his shoulders go back and he thrusts his torso forward to try and lessen the painful pressure on his chest. The end result is his prettily-framed nipples, presented to Luo Binghe like a lewd offering.

And Luo Binghe accepts the offering, his hot, wet mouth descending on one swollen peak while the other continues to be rolled firmly between his forefinger and thumb.

“Nngghhhhhh—!” Shen Qingqiu’s quivering hole clamps down on Luo Binghe’s cock, milking him as Shen Qingqiu comes for the third time that night. Luo Binghe guides him through the aftershocks with courteous but insistent squeezes of his swollen nipples.

“Shizun is so beautiful,” Luo Binghe pants against Shen Qingqiu’s chest, his hot breath wafting over the saliva-soaked nipple and provoking another cry from its owner.

Shen Qingqiu's body is littered with bruises from Luo Binghe's mouth and hands, his hair is in complete disarray, and his eyelashes are almost glued shut by the tears that have been forced out of him. How can he possibly be beautiful?!

But from the hitch in Luo Binghe’s rhythm, he’s close to coming again. Shen Qingqiu whines.

“Binghe, please—”

“Shizun… Shizun is so good to me!” 

To his surprise, Luo Binghe lets go of his nipples— 

—only to wrap his arms around Shen Qingqiu’s waist and flip them over, kneeling on the bed for leverage so that he can drive deeper and harder into Shen Qingqiu’s body. His cock is like an iron brand as he fucks into Shen Qingqiu. The sound of it is wet, Shen Qingqiu’s reddened hole convulsing as it swallows Luo Binghe’s cock down.

Shen Qingqiu’s mouth stretches wide in a silent scream. Suddenly, two of Luo Binghe’s fingers are shoved between his lips, mimicking the thrusting motion of his cock.

“Your mouth looked lonely, Shizun,” Luo Binghe pants. His other hand goes back to tugging at Shen Qingqiu’s poor defenseless nipple so that he clenches down on Luo Binghe’s cock with every thrust, like he’s conducting an obscene symphony using Shen Qingqiu’s body.

Shen Qingqiu sobs helplessly, breathing hard around Luo Binghe’s fingers as they press down on his tongue, run along his teeth, stroke the insides of his cheeks.

“I’ll fill it for you,” Luo Binghe promises, his thumb petting the side of Shen Qingqiu’s face comfortingly. “I’ll fill all of your empty holes. Shizun should have everything he ever wants.”

Shen Qingqiu can't respond, mouth stuffed full.

Luo Binghe looks intently down at him, brows furrowed and eyes shiny with tears. "Shizun, come one more time, please."

I can't, I really can't! 

Shen Qingqiu tries to communicate with his eyes and his expression that he's too tired, too sensitive, his nerves feel like they've been set on fire. He'll die if he comes again. 

But Luo Binghe is relentless, fucking him deep and steady as his hand plucks cruelly at that nipple and he wedges a third finger in Shen Qingqiu's mouth.


Shen Qingqiu thrashes on the bed, delirious, mouth gagging on Luo Binghe’s fingers and ass clamping down on Luo Binghe’s cock. Waves of pleasure sweep through his body, and he feels like he’s held there, pinned by Luo Binghe’s weight and hands and cock, for an eternity as they come crashing down.

When he finally regains the presence of mind to register what his senses are telling him, Luo Binghe is coming, sobbing and pressing his tear-streaked face into the side of Shen Qingqiu’s neck as he fills Shen Qingqiu up with hot ribbons of cum.

He continues to thrust gently into Shen Qingqiu’s hole as he works his way through his orgasm, such soft undulations of his hips that he probably isn’t even aware that he’s doing it.

“Nghh, Shizun…” Luo Binghe pants against Shen Qingqiu’s skin, tongue flickering out to taste the salt of his sweat as he grinds in tiny, trembling circles against Shen Qingqiu’s body.

Shen Qingqiu is in no position to stop him, still trying to recover from all of the torment that has been inflicted on him and all of the pleasure that has been wrung out of him.

Finally, after what could be a few minutes or a few days, he feels Luo Binghe shake himself and come back to reality.

“Shizun,” the boy moans in a low, regretful tone, “this disciple humbly apologizes for taking advantage of his master’s kindness.”

Shen Qingqiu wants to pat that fluffy head. Maybe discuss this kind of thing with your partner beforehand next time, but luckily for you it seems that this master is into it.

Instead of saying anything, he flops a hand in the vague direction of the bath that has been prepared and kept warm with heating talismans for them to clean up after the lesson.

He feels Luo Binghe reach for a nearby blanket, hesitate, and then give it up as a lost cause. The soft green cloth is fine silk, but it feels like sandpaper against Shen Qingqiu’s overstimulated skin as Luo Binghe does his best to wipe up the mess that they’ve made.

When he gets to Shen Qingqiu’s ass, he begins to pull out. Shen Qingqiu makes a displeased noise as he feels the— ridiculous, Airplane!— loads of cum seep out of him, and he reflexively tightens up.  As much as is possible, anyway, with a hole as abused as his has been.

Luo Binghe exhales hard through his nose. “Ah,” he nods, “Shizun doesn’t want to let go of this disciple.”

What? Wait, Binghe—!

Shen Qingqiu’s ridiculous disciple gathers him up in his arms and stands, keeping his hole plugged with that stupidly large cock— even when soft it’s huge, what the hell— as he makes his way over to the bathtub.

Shen Qingqiu grumbles a complaint, heat pooling in his belly in a very distressing way. Every single step jostles Luo Binghe’s cock against his prostate, a teasing pressure that comes and goes with the motion of Luo Binghe’s gait.

He can’t go again!

In a desperate effort to preserve his sanity and stop the bumps against his prostate, Shen Qingqiu clenches down. That only makes it worse, because now that vulnerable gland is squashed directly against Luo Binghe’s shaft.


Luo Binghe’s fingers stroke comfortingly along Shen Qingqiu’s ribs and the undersides of his thighs, where he is holding onto Shen Qingqiu. Shen Qingqiu’s ruined hole flutters uselessly around his cock where they are connected.

“Shizun is so sensitive,” he says in wonder. “This disciple is truly blessed to receive such amazing instruction from his teacher.”

Shen Qingqiu lets out a dry sob, turning his face toward Luo Binghe’s chest and burying it in the dip of one of his collarbones. His face must be flaming— even his ears are burning from Luo Binghe’s words!

Finally, finally, they arrive at the side of the tub. This being the world that Airplane wrote, all bathtubs are big enough to fit at least two people. Luo Binghe carefully steps over the side of the tub and sits down, settling Shen Qingqiu in his lap.

“Shizun, you can let go now.” He catches Shen Qingqiu under the armpits and gently lifts him off that awe-inspiring cock. Shen Qingqiu's insides cling to Luo Binghe's cock as he limply lets his disciple manhandle him.

Luo Binghe doesn’t let Shen Qingqiu go far.

He arranges Shen Qingqiu’s wobbly limbs without asking for his master’s permission. Shen Qingqiu ends up kneeling, bent over the side of the tub.

“Here, Shizun, I need to see what I’m doing,” Luo Binghe says softly. He takes Shen Qingqiu’s hands and leads them to his own ass, coaxing Shen Qingqiu to hold himself open so that his twitching hole is exposed to the warm water.

Then he plunges two fingers back into Shen Qingqiu’s ass and slowly and methodically fingers all of the cum out of him.

Shen Qingqiu shakes his head and moans weakly, the back of his neck burning in humiliation, but he has just enough strength to cling to the side of the tub, never mind moving away from Luo Binghe’s insistent ministrations.

Those elegant fingers twist and press against his inner walls, mapping out every single fold and crevice until Shen Qingqiu is nearly out of his mind from the pressure against his overstimulated insides, and then they go back over everything again for good measure.

Shen Qingqiu keens, unsure if he's begging for it to stop or to keep going.

“All right, all done here.” Luo Binghe presses a soft kiss to Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder blade and then wraps an arm around him, turning him around so he can sit.

The warm water laps at Shen Qingqiu’s chest, soothing him as Luo Binghe procures a wash cloth and begins to wipe the rest of his body down.

When he swipes the cloth over Shen Qingqiu’s puffy nipples, bruised and swollen from being bitten and flicked and pinched and played with, Shen Qingqiu flinches back.

Luo Binghe hums consideringly and rubs the cloth in firm circles around the areolas, eyes lighting up when the already tortured peaks draw up further in response. When Shen Qingqiu lets out a wrung-out, desperately pleading sob, he finally lays the wash cloth over both of Shen Qingqiu's nipples and then presses his thumbs down onto them, rubbing one firm stroke up and down across each one through the roughness of the cloth.

Shen Qingqiu howls and comes again. His cock jerks under the surface of the water, but barely any liquid escapes into the cloudy bathwater.

Luo Binghe!!

Luo Binghe hums, pressing adoring kisses just above those poor aching nipples. “Shizun is so considerate, coming dry to keep the water clean.” He smiles, wide and bright. “Although at this point there's no reason for Shizun to go to such trouble. The water will need to be changed after we get out.”

He reaches between Shen Qingqiu’s thighs and takes hold of Shen Qingqiu’s soft, hypersensitive cock. Shen Qingqiu worries his lower lip between his teeth and watches in terror as Luo Binghe rubs his thumb over the tip of Shen Qingqiu’s cock, dipping into the slit as if to make sure it’s really clean.

Rub, rub, rub.

Shen Qingqiu screams. 

It’s too much— The warmth of the bath, his exhaustion from having been fucked to within an inch of his life, and Luo Binghe’s insistence on playing with body parts that really can’t take any more. 

He passes out.


When he wakes up, the birds are chirping and the morning sun has just risen in the sky.

Luo Binghe is waiting at his bedside with a tray of soft buns and a bowl of warm soy milk, dressed in his usual uniform. Not a single stitch of clothing is out of place, although his hair is as untamable as ever.

Shen Qingqiu cautiously sits up, wincing at the ache in his abused and doubtlessly puffy hole. At some point he has been dressed in a fresh set of robes. The silk panels draw tight over his chest, and he hisses as the tender tips of his nipples catch and throb against the fabric.

“Is Shizun feeling all right?” Luo Binghe comes forward with concern written across his beautiful face.

Shen Qingqiu presses a hand to his chest, trying to keep the fabric of his robes from brushing against his skin, and fights to regain his composure.

“Fine, fine,” he forces out. “This master is… still a little tired, that’s all.”

He doesn’t have the heart to regret the lie, because the smile that spreads across Luo Binghe’s face and sets honest-to-god sparkles in his eyes is like seeing the sun rise over the edge of the mountains on a crisp spring day.

“Thanking Shizun for last night’s lesson,” the little white sheep chirps, beaming at Shen Qingqiu. “This disciple has learned a lot!”

He places a freshly steamed bun into Shen Qingqiu’s hand, setting the tray and the soymilk onto the nearby table so he can help Shen Qingqiu out of bed and then straighten the bedsheets.

Shen Qingqiu reflexively reaches up to pat Luo Binghe’s fluffy head.

Luo Binghe’s eyes curve into pleased crescents, and he presses eagerly into the touch. 

Then, as he draws reluctantly away, he adds, “This disciple is looking forward to tonight’s lesson!”

Shen Qingqiu whimpers.