Maoshan magic's sleeping potions

Outside a house in a Thai slum, a neatly dressed man frowned and smoked. He was Chaibah, a comrade-in-arms of Blackie, now a police sergeant after his military service. Today, he had made time to visit his comrade's bereaved family, only to find a crying baby in the grandmother's arms and some terrible news—Emma's sister-in-law had gone missing. He left some money and smoked in the alley, filled with self-reproach for not taking better care of his comrade's family. "No matter what, you can't be hurt. How can I face Blackie?" Chaibah murmured absently.

Where was Emma? Across from the Water Palace was the massage parlor "Golden Sands," owned by another Thai underworld boss and sorcerer, Cho Ang. At that moment, in the staff break room bathroom, Emma was smoking heroin, a Thai specialty. Having worked there for a month, she was noticeably thinner than before, but this didn't detract from her figure at all; on the contrary, it made her large breasts and plump buttocks even more prominent. She pouted her drug-numbed face, her expression a mixture of pain and pleasure. She didn't know what was happening to her; the woman who had once been faithful to her husband and loving towards her children had become increasingly sensitive and utterly defenseless in the face of sex. In her frustration, the supervisor led her into the world of drugs. She struggled daily with this contradiction; the only things that could numb her were sex and drugs. "Emma, time for your session," the supervisor called from outside. Emma lazily tidied herself up and walked towards the massage room.

Facing the door, Emma was filled with fear. She knew that once she entered, she would be as if possessed, completely transformed into a different person, yet her lower body uncontrollably became wet, as if filled with anticipation. The impatient customer, who had been waiting inside, opened the door. Seeing Emma standing there, his anger subsided, replaced by a lewd grin. "A top-tier girl is something else," he said, pulling her into the room.

An unknown force seemed to permeate the massage room. Upon entering, whether due to the lingering effects of heroin or the room's genuine malevolent power, Emma felt a wave of dizziness. A seductive smile gradually appeared on her red lips. She slowly unbuttoned her blouse, wrapping her legs around the head of the man licking her genitals, uttering obscene words, "You bastard, you've made me wet! Come on, I'm so itchy down there!" As she spoke, she threw her pink bra on the floor, revealing her large, trembling breasts.

Hearing the summons, the man pulled aside her legs, chuckling lewdly, one hand gripping her firm breasts, the other loosening his shorts. With a forceful thrust of his large hand, tiny specks of white milk oozed from Emma's pert nipples. The man excitedly tasted the milk, his erect penis sliding smoothly into her wet vagina, followed by expert thrusting. "Ah...that big cock feels so good, oh...ah...faster...ah...faster..." Emma reveled in the waves of pleasure emanating from her breasts and genitals, her strong legs wrapped around the man's waist, their rhythmic clenching helping him penetrate her faster and deeper.

"Damn, what a slut, so much milk, and so much wetness down there. I've really hit the jackpot today, you slut. Don't worry, if I don't satisfy you today, I'll come back tomorrow." He thrust even harder, as if trying to bury himself entirely into that wet, fleshy hole. "Okay... ah... feed me... ah... fuck me to death, I want your big cock to feed me every day... ah... harder!" Emma responded passionately, her hands, clinging to the man's back, leaving deep scratch marks as she reached her climax.

This obscene scene unfolded throughout the entire massage parlor of Jinsha. The source of it all was a secret room in the boss's room. The secret room was filled with smoke. On the altar before the evil Buddha was a model of Jinsha, with a blackened skeleton lying prone, its arms wrapped around the model, smoke billowing from it. Before the altar

was a burly, bald, scarred man, his body radiating an eerie green light as he chanted incantations. The man took a deep breath, the green light vanished, and the smoke was sucked into the skeleton's mouth. "Master's pills this time are truly miraculous. I've continuously cast the wide-range Mind-Bending Curse for seven days without feeling tired at all, and I even feel my cultivation has improved considerably," the man respectfully thanked Zhuo Ang beside him. Zhuo Ang simply said, "Alright, it's getting late, you should go take care of your business." Watching the man walk out of the room, a slight smile played on Zhuo Ang's lips. He felt a surge of satisfaction at the success of his plan. It turned out those pills were just a form of evil curse—the Ghost Curse—applied by an old ghost with 50 years of cultivation. In a month, he would have a powerful ghost completely under his control, but his eldest disciple, Scarface

, would likely perish with him. But what did it matter? To Zhuo Ang, everything was usable; it was just a matter of time. After leaving, Scarface drove to a dock on the outskirts of Thailand. It was already 5 a.m., the sky just beginning to lighten. The dockworkers respectfully gave Scarface directions before retreating to their lounge for drinks. Scarface drove straight to the dock, where a cargo ship was moored. A man in a black suit bowed respectfully to Scarface and led him aboard. Inside the luxuriously decorated cabin, a barefoot, short man in a loose-fitting robe was toying with a beautiful, naked woman suspended in mid-air by candlelight. The cabin was filled with the maniacal laughter of men and the naked woman's painful pleas.

The naked woman had the typical face of a Thai beauty, tears streaming down her dark, oval face. Her once healthy brown skin was now covered in bright red candle wax, and her breasts and buttocks were covered with whip marks. Scarface initially showed a disdainful expression, but this was completely hidden as he bowed to the short man. When he stood up, his face had changed to a respectful smile. "Mr. Ogura, are you satisfied with this shipment?" Ogura turned around, revealing a thin, naked body and a lewd, monkey-like face through his open robe. "Satisfied, satisfied. Scarface, would you like to play too?" he said, handing Scarface the candle. Scarface brushed it away politely, saying, "No, thank you. It's getting late, so let's finish the transaction as soon as possible. Things are pretty tense lately." Ogura nodded and gestured for the man in the black suit to bring over a leather suitcase. Scarface opened the suitcase; inside were neatly stacked gold bars. He counted them briefly, then asked in surprise, "Ogura-kun, it seems like there's too much…" Before he could finish, Ogura cut him off with a hand. "I heard there's a young woman with a milk cow at your Golden Sands, and your master promised 'Shiva.' I've been a bit busy lately. Could you help me with that in the next couple of days?" "This…" Just as Scarface was wondering how to answer, Zhuo Ang's voice rang in his ears. He paused for a moment, then professionally extended his hand, saying, "We've accepted the money. The milk cow will be delivered to Ogura-kun tomorrow. As for 'Shiva,' my master promised to personally deliver it to your residence in a month." Ogura reluctantly shook hands with Scarface and then unhappily dismissed him

from the ship. Watching Scarface leave, his lewd face instantly turned serious. "Kojiro, it seems Zhuo Ang is preparing to make his move. You stay and prepare well. I'll await your good news." Saying this, Kojiro in the black suit dismissed her and approached the bound woman. He removed his robe, revealing a monstrous Japanese demon on his thin back. Without any movement, the bright lights in the room went out, casting a chilling blue light on Ogura's face. He chanted incantations in Japanese, and the pained naked woman's expression slowly went blank. Her dry genitals gushed forth copious amounts of vaginal fluid. Ogura's originally small 3-inch penis swelled like an inflatable balloon, reaching the length of her navel and as thick as a fist. He stiffly thrust his massive member into her wet genitals, rhythmically and forcefully pounding into her. The woman, like a beautiful inflatable doll, remained silent as Ogura's long, sharp-nailed fingers left bloody marks on her tender breasts and buttocks, as if she had lost her soul. After about a thousand thrusts, the woman's genitals were mangled and bloody from the massive penis. Xiao Cang let out a deep shout, and the woman finally responded, letting out a deafening scream, "Ah...ah..." before gradually fading into silence. The "woman" at the source of the sound had shriveled up like a doll, withered into a shell of bones.

Three eccentric masters, each with their own hidden agendas, gathered, each employing their own strange arts; it seemed a terrible storm was about to sweep through Thailand.

Away from those terrifying masters, a young Chinese man arrived at another famous red-light district in Thailand, "Ladyboy Street." Strolling through the brightly lit streets, his face lecherous, the young man was none other than the long-absent Taoist priest, Fang Liang. Having finally shaken off Lao Cao and his girlfriend Sisi upon arriving in Thailand, he took a rickshaw to the red-light district the driver had described.

Everywhere he looked, beautiful women of all shapes and sizes filled the streets; this truly was a paradise for men.

Suddenly, a commotion reached Fang Liang's ears. A group of thugs were harassing a pretty young woman with short blue hair. What attracted Fang Liang was the woman; he recognized familiar Mandarin in this foreign land. Although it was only a few low-pitched swear words, the sharp-eared Fang Liang noticed them. It was rare to encounter a fellow countryman, especially a beautiful one. Of course, Fang Liang felt obligated to play the hero and rescue the damsel in distress. Despite the language barrier, fists are universal, and Fang Liang, having some martial arts training, quickly dealt with the thugs.

The beautiful woman happily led Fang Liang to a street stall to chat. Her name was Xiao Lan, her father was Chinese, and she had been forced into prostitution due to poverty. The thugs had tried to take advantage of her for a low price, which was why they had argued. Fang Liang only caught the gist of Xiao Lan's broken Mandarin introduction. Most of his attention was focused on Xiao Lan's alluring figure, and the remaining time was spent scheming to get this beautiful woman into bed. The two men drank beer and chatted haphazardly. After about half a dozen beers, Fang Liang was already a little drunk. Xiao Lan, however, covered her genitals, blushing, and said, "Brother Liang, you keep drinking, I need to use the restroom." She then rushed towards the toilet.

"Damn, she can drink so much. Good thing, my chance has come," Fang Liang muttered drunkenly. He pulled a tiny talisman from his pocket, no bigger than a fingertip, and dissolved it in Xiao Lan's beer with a lighter. He had brought it specifically for this trip. Its effect was simple: a drug from Maoshan magic. Fang Liang was never a gentleman; to be precise, he was a despicable scoundrel. He would never spend money on something that didn't cost him anything.

Xiao Lan came out apologizing. Fang Liang took the opportunity to raise his glass to toast with her, but unfortunately, a customer at a nearby table bumped into Fang Liang and spilled his beer all over him. The passerby apologized but hurried away from the food stall. Fang Liang cursed his bad luck as he poured himself another drink. The two clinked glasses, and Fang Liang, watching Xiao Lan gulp down her glass of talisman wine, smiled and downed his own.

With that, Fang Liang grinned foolishly, then collapsed onto the table, unconscious. Xiao Lan nudged him a few times, but to no avail, she paid the bill and hailed a pedicab to take him home.

Around noon, the glaring sunlight streamed through the window cracks, hitting Fang Liang's eyes. He struggled to open them, looking down at Xiao Lan's delicate, doll-like face. A satisfied smile spread across his face. Suddenly, his smile froze. His senses slowly returned. The first sensation was a burning pain, the pain originating from his only opening. Then, the second place he felt sensation was his thigh. Besides Xiao Lan's beautiful legs wrapped around him, there seemed to be something else there—something he also possessed. His forehead was immediately covered in cold sweat. He gently lifted the thin blanket covering him, and the cruel reality instantly brought tears to his eyes…

[The End]

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Maoshan magic's sleeping potions

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