Martial Arts Masochist

Time came around, and I walked boldly toward the main gate of the Tang Clan of Sichuan.

But bold in words only—honestly, I was pretty scared deep down.

Am I going to be okay?

Tang Clan of Sichuan.

I looked up at the gleaming golden characters on the plaque.

Standing before it, my ragged clothes felt even more pathetic.

“What business brings you?”

A Tang Clan warrior guarding the gate asked as he eyed me.

I pulled a single invitation from my bosom and showed it to him.

His eyes flashed for a moment, and his attitude shifted immediately. “This way, please.”

I was inwardly impressed by his formal demeanor.

Even with the Clan Leader’s handwritten note, it couldn’t have been easy to use honorifics right away with a beggar like me.

The warrior led me before an elderly woman.

That was the moment I realized this clan had more meticulous procedures than expected.

I’d thought I’d just quickly meet the Poison King, but there were clearly steps before facing him.

And the more complex these procedures, the more I felt anew just how exalted the Poison King was.

“I am Heo Okryeon of the Tang Clan of Sichuan.”

“Oh my.”

At the old woman’s introduction, I immediately bowed and cupped my fists.

Heo Okryeon was the nanny who had raised not only Dang Soran and her siblings, but even the Poison King himself.

No blood ties, yet no one blended more seamlessly with the Tang Clan of Sichuan.

Her name had come up so often that I remembered it well.

Heo Okryeon didn’t show it outwardly, but she seemed subtly pleased by my courtesy.

“Before meeting the Clan Leader, you must first make yourself presentable.”

“Yes?”

“Your whole body is caked in dust, your clothes are in tatters, your hair is a wild mess... and even your beard is unkempt. It would be improper to appear before the Clan Leader like this.”

...What a hassle.

But I couldn’t say that.

I just nodded endlessly.

Surrounded by the clan’s servants as we walked, I ran into Cheongwol, who was practicing her cultivation.

Her neck glistened with sweat.

Her hair clung limply to her face.

...She was just beautiful.

Seeing her among the Tang Clan servants made it feel safe to admire her—maybe that’s why?

I felt anew how beautiful she was.

“Huh?”

Cheongwol spotted me too and looked startled.

She covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve, perhaps embarrassed by her sweaty appearance.

But her eyes wouldn’t leave me.

I gazed at her for a long while before looking ahead again.

After that, it was time to tidy up.

They trimmed my hair and beard, and I checked the mirror.

“Yes. This is the best we can do. It’s hard to bring out more of your features than this.”

Heo Okryeon said.

...Hmm, the nuance was like, “We’ve salvaged your ugly face as much as possible, so be satisfied”?

Whatever. It didn’t matter. I liked my face anyway, and it felt neat and satisfactory now.

Next came the bath.

I soaked in a warm tub and scrubbed my body.

Tang Clan servants came in to wash me, but I refused vehemently.

I wasn’t ready for that yet.

Next were the clothes.

Various outfits made of fine silk.

Just rubbing them in my hands drew out a quiet gasp of admiration.

The colors were so vibrant and fitting—anything would look good.

“Can I wear this one—”

Smack! “Ow!”

As I reached for one outfit, Heo Okryeon smacked the back of my hand.

The more time passed, the more this granny revealed her true colors.

She treated me more casually and bossily as we went along.

But it didn’t displease me that much.

She clicked her tongue.

“That outfit doesn’t suit you at all, Young Master. With your dark skin, wearing such a flashy sky-blue would just scream tacky. Did you come all this way to act like a beggar? Better to go with black to accentuate your manly build, then drape a red or gold sash over it. That’ll give you real dignity.”

I didn’t mind partly because it felt like she was thinking of me.

It was the classic tsundere granny vibe.

And I knew just how to handle a granny like this.

“Oh, you’re right. Granny, you’ve got quite the eye.”

As I flirted in the new outfit, the surrounding servants gasped in unison.

But Heo Okryeon just raised the corners of her eyes in a sharp smile.

“I’ve raised plenty of Tang Clan men with these hands. You think this is beyond me?”

Heo Okryeon tapped my back and arms, then nodded.

“Good build means the clothes fit like they were made for you.”

“Clothes make the man. Thank you.”

Heo Okryeon smiled again, but I meant it sincerely too.

Going from rags to this fine black attire felt like an unemployed guy slipping into a suit.

And suits? I had a bit of a fantasy about them.

In SM, clothes are never just simple decorations.

They complete the atmosphere and etch power and submission even more vividly.

For an M, it’s mostly shameful outfits.

Lingerie. Underwear only.

Sheer. Fishnets.

Why? Because even though they’re wearing clothes, visually nothing’s covered.

Without the S’s permission, they shouldn’t have the freedom to hide their body.

Sometimes a leather harness.

Not clothes—just restraints.

Sometimes cosplay.

School uniform, maid outfit, bunny suit, reverse bunny...

It concretizes the commanded role in role-play. Visualizes obedience and submission.

Conversely, the S wears more imposing clothes.

The well-known one is leather.

Especially the image of a woman in a full-body catsuit dominating a man—it’s iconic for SM.

But not everyone does that.

I think leather became the common image because it’s so unique and memorable.

Women often wear leather.

It suits symbolizing a queen.

But a man in full-body leather?

...It’s just plain weird.

I wouldn’t want it either.

I get that we have to cater to masochists, but that doesn’t mean I want to wrap myself in leather.

It’s not even common.

Men have an outfit that most clearly exudes authority.

That’s the suit.

So if an S woman drapes herself in leather to show absolute elegance,

An S man dons a suit to perfect dignity and gravitas.

Or wears nothing at all.

Sitting there naked might seem silly, but it’s cool.

A sharply tailored suit, one hand in the pocket.

Naked masochist kneeling, arms bound behind the back, leash attached...

...There’s this thrilling shiver that tickles the chest.

I examined the black clothes I was wearing again.

Not a suit at all—just martial robes, but neat and tidy.

The red sash at the waist added a nice accent.

It inexplicably brought out a sense of dignity.

That’s why it kept feeling like I was wearing a suit.

I was quite satisfied with that.

“How much for clothes like these?”

I asked Heo Okryeon.

“Why do you ask?”

“Just curious how much they’d cost to buy...”

“We’ll give them to you. Take them.”

“Yes?”

“The Clan Leader said you’re an honored guest. We have to treat you accordingly.”

“...Oh.”

At those words, I felt joy at getting the clothes for free, and relief that at least the Poison King wouldn’t kill me.

“Finally, here.”

Heo Okryeon handed me a long cloth.

“...What’s this?”

Lately, the only cloths like this I’d seen were used to gag mouths, so it felt weird.

“Don’t you know a headband? Wrap it around your forehead.”