Martial Arts Masochist

A slick touch glided along her thigh.

Why was he touching her thigh when it was supposed to be her buttocks getting the spanking?

She had her doubts, but she didn't voice them.

Because it felt too good.

“Huu... Haat...”

The exquisite pressure was both ticklish and refreshing.

It felt like the knots in her legs from grueling training were finally unraveling.

Every time he pressed with force, her breath caught involuntarily, and whenever he gently stroked them afterward, her heart raced.

The mere contact alone would have been pleasurable enough, but an even greater mental stimulation overwhelmed Cheongwol.

This hand belonged to Han Seojin. He, dressed so impeccably that one might not recognize him, was caressing her as if she were a treasure.

No matter how roughly skin met skin, the scented oil made their touches glide pleasurably against each other.

She was realizing now just how good her body could feel.

Goosebumps kept rising from the unfamiliar stimulation.

“Hng!”

His hand delved between her thighs.

It pried open the tightly pressed crevice, applying the fragrant oil everywhere.

“Feels good?”

Han Seojin asked teasingly.

Cheongwol couldn't muster a reply, merely flushing red and letting out a moan.

Then, suddenly, she became aware of Dang Soran's presence.

She was being toyed with like this in front of Dang Soran.

Overcoming the shame, she glanced sideways and...

“...”

Saw Dang Soran frozen with a confused—or perhaps resentful—expression.

If it had been a look of shock at her, it surely would have been even more embarrassing.

Instead, that envious expression made Cheongwol's chest swell with pride.

Embarrassing, but enviable.

Humiliating, but cherished.

She mustn't forget that.

“Hngp...!”

Next, Han Seojin's hand touched her ample buttocks.

Cheongwol finally let out the moan she'd been holding back.

Dang Soran's body twitched in response.

She'd let out a moan lewd enough to shame anyone who heard it, yet Cheongwol felt not just shame, but a certain thrill as well.

No matter what she did, she'd never been able to scratch at Dang Soran's nerves before.

Now, it felt like she'd finally found Dang Soran's weakness.

Having been teased her whole life, this newfound power doubled in its preciousness.

“Now, Young Master... how long... Hngt!”

“Stay still.”

So Cheongwol forcibly suppressed her sense of impropriety and continued her not-quite-boastful boasting.

She didn't hold back her excited moans.

Han Seojin was touching her.

It was ecstatically thrilling.

To the point where she realized just how tediously boring the Murim had been back when she didn't know this sensation.

****

Why?

Dang Soran couldn't understand.

Why was Han Seojin caressing Cheongwol like that?

Dang Soran thought she knew everything.

Especially about the spanking part.

She'd been spanked multiple times already and even understood the pleasure it brought.

Yet the process unfolding now was entirely new to her.

The position was different.

Baring the buttocks was different.

Caressing those buttocks was different.

Applying scented oil was different.

Why was it all so different?

Why hadn't she experienced something like this?

Why the disparity?

It was supposed to be the same punishment.

Dang Soran's hands trembled.

She didn't know the reason, but they shook.

As someone from the Tang Clan of Sichuan, skilled in hidden weapons and daggers, she had undergone extensive training to steady her hands.

Yet they trembled enough to render all that training useless.

Cheongwol's melted expression filled Dang Soran's eyes.

“Haah... Hng... Eung...”

Every time Han Seojin's oil-slick hand glided softly over Cheongwol's buttocks, Cheongwol moaned as if it felt too good.

Half-lidded eyes. Pupils gleaming with lust beneath them.

Trembling shoulders. Flushed cheeks. Wet lips, heated breaths—all of it.

Dang Soran's heart clenched tightly.

That position should have been mine.

It definitely should have been.

Han Seojin had played the spanking game with her before.

This game was surely meant to be hers next.

“...”

If she hadn't played around, hadn't been arrogant, could she have been in that position?

Would he have smiled at her, caressed her buttocks with such satisfaction?

She imagined herself in that spot.

“Ugh...!”

And the realization that it could never be hers now made her chest ache.

Why does it hurt so much?

Dang Soran thought, watching Han Seojin's eyes that never turned her way, even if it killed her.

What poison have you used on me, exactly?

Finally, Dang Soran spoke up.

“If you're going to do it... just spank her quickly and be done with it. Do you think it's permissible to touch the buttocks of the Emei Sect Leader like that? And why are you applying that cheap scented oil...!”

Cheongwol glanced back at Han Seojin at her words.

Han Seojin said,

“Wol-ah. I squeezed this oil out myself. Doesn't it smell nice?”

At those words, even in Dang Soran's eyes, the oil transformed into the most luxurious of luxuries.

Oil made personally by Han Seojin. And he was slathering it so generously on Cheongwol's buttocks.

*Nod.*

Cheongwol nodded in affirmation to Han Seojin.

Their bond kept deepening.

Han Seojin was applying the oil he'd made to Cheongwol, and she was affirming his effort with her approval.

“The reason I keep applying it to your buttocks... is because I don't want to see this beautiful skin get scarred. I want to see you in pain and suffering, not wounded.”

“Eut!!”

Those words, instead, hurt Dang Soran.

...Then what about me?

Young Master. Why did you just spank me?

Why do you pamper Cheongwol so much while just hitting me?

Cheongwol's pale buttocks shifted shapes this way and that under Han Seojin's touch.

Han Seojin grabbed them firmly, shook them lightly, stroked with his fingertips, brushed with the back of his hand.

“Ahuk... Hugrk...”

Cheongwol's reactions varied too.

But one thing they shared: delight amid the shame.

Then, Han Seojin's gaze suddenly changed.

His hand lifted away.

Cheongwol tensed slightly, sensing what was coming next.

Cheongwol tensing up. It was plain to see here who held her in check.

“Ready to get spanked?”

Han Seojin asked.

...No.

Dang Soran answered inwardly.

Don't do it.

But Cheongwol squeezed her eyes shut and nodded obediently.

Without having done anything wrong.

Yet the Emei Sect Leader was declaring herself ready for the spanking.

Cheongwol, who couldn't tolerate injustice or unfairness, was accepting Han Seojin's baseless violence.

Han Seojin took a deep breath and swung his palm.

Explosive power surged from his mighty frame.

SPLATTT!!! Soon, a horrific tearing sound echoed through Dang Soran's room.

Utterly different from the sounds from her own buttocks.

Dang Soran had been spanked while fully clothed, so the sounds were mostly dull thuds and thwacks.

From Cheongwol's buttocks came clear, moist slaps or sharp, crisp smacks.

“Huuuuuk!!!”

Cheongwol let out a massive feminine cry, the pain evidently sharp.

Han Seojin's hand remained gripped on the struck spot, clutching her buttock.

“It hurts...!”

Cheongwol whispered petulantly.

“Can you feel the heat?”

Han Seojin asked.

Cheongwol wore a wronged expression but nodded.

“Now, let's continue right away.”

SPLATTTT!! Without waiting for permission, Han Seojin swung again.

Beneath him, Cheongwol merely trembled.

“Aeuk!! Haa... Eut!!”

She clearly had the power to escape if she wished, yet she didn't.

She was simply accepting the violence.

“Wol-ah.”

Han Seojin called out to Cheongwol amid it all.

Cheongwol, struggling to endure the pain—or that strange sensation—nodded with reddened ears instead of replying.

“You know what?”

Dang Soran perked up her ears too.

Han Seojin said,

“Your snowy-white buttocks now bear the mark of my handprint.”

Thud. Cheongwol's head finally dropped, burying into the bed.

A sign her body could no longer bear the shame.

“Tell me whose buttocks these are.”

Han Seojin whispered.

Leaning in, he spoke into the ear of the head-hidden Cheongwol.

Dang Soran found the whole scene suffocating.

Especially knowing that position could have been hers.

“...M-Mine... my buttocks.”

Cheongwol replied as if she absolutely refused to give Han Seojin the answer he wanted.

“Right now, they're my plaything, but still yours?”

“...Hngt...!! M-Mine, they're mine.”

“Yeah?”

SPLATTTT!! “Ha-eut!! I-It hurts... It hurts, Young Master...!!”

“I'll keep punishing you until you give the right answer.”

It would be unjust for anyone, but Dang Soran saw it.

“...Ah.”

Through the gap in her hair, Cheongwol's mouth—buried in the bed—was faintly visible.

Her lips curved up ever so, ever so slightly.

...Subtly uplifted in pleasure.

“Stop it...!”