Martial Arts Masochist

Dang Soran felt confusion at Cheongwol’s appearance, followed by intense shame.

“Ch-Cheong…!”

Jegal Yong had endured it under the pretext of chasing him out.

But she wasn’t prepared at all to show this side of herself to Cheongwol.

Not a single inch exposed, yet it felt strangely obscene.

The lewd sensation was like having cold water dumped on her.

To have such a humiliating sight witnessed by someone she always competed with like rivals.

Above all, it interrupted her time with Han Seojin.

“Hnngh!”

Dang Soran curled up her body and cried out.

“Why are you here…!”

She squeezed out her voice to reproach Cheongwol.

“Get out! Who said you could come into my room…!”

This space was hers and Han Seojin’s from the start.

Why should she barge in?

“I said get out—”

“…Clan Leader, I’ve been waiting for you.”

“You did well, Wol-ie.”

But Cheongwol and Han Seojin showed no interest in her at all.

As if she had evaporated, they gave her no response.

She couldn’t understand that sudden change.

The dashing Han Seojin, all dressed up, was ignoring her to take in another woman.

“…Huh?”

The Han Seojin who liked her.

The Han Seojin who ran around for her.

He had completely turned his attention to her.

‘And you just won’t do. You need to fix that personality of yours. Do you know how much I’ve suffered because of you?’

Suddenly, Dang Soran recalled the game she had first played with Cheongwol.

Cheongwol’s figure facing the wall back then.

She had laughed it off as ridiculous at the time… but now, she finally grasped what that punishment entailed.

****

Fear and relief.

Contradictory emotions squeezed her heart.

Damn it, she really was here…!

Damn it, good thing I called her…!

Cheongwol stepped lightly into the room.

A faint irritation lingered on her face.

No one knew how long she had waited or how depleted her patience was.

But for now, she seemed satisfied just to have been summoned.

She had probably been watching the whole time, even seeing Jegal Yong bolt out.

She might have pieced together the general situation.

Cheongwol scanned me up and down.

Like appraising my new robes and appearance.

“…Haa.”

Then she let out a deep sigh.

She briefly bit the corner of her lip and released it.

Her eyes deepened with every passing second.

What’s wrong… I called you.

She looked at Dang Soran.

“…Clan Leader. Isn’t this a bit different from when it was my turn?”

“What do you mean?”

“…Why is Dang Soran still staring at the Clan Leader?”

Looking her way, Dang Soran was watching us with trembling eyes.

A somewhat pitiful sight.

But at the same time, it reminded me of the troubles she’d caused me.

The hairpin incident. The marriage date.

Blatantly teasing me.

Even having to reveal myself to Jegal Yong because of Dang Soran.

Thinking about that made her seem less pitiful.

I mulled over Cheongwol’s old words.

‘Play a game with Dang Soran. In return, don’t hide it from me when you do—bring me along. And when you do, ignore Dang Soran just like I had to face the wall before…’

‘…What?’

‘Then I’ll let it slide. You keep discriminating between me and Dang Soran…’

I knew better than anyone that those words weren’t a joke.

For now, though, the moment called for attending to Cheongwol, not Dang Soran.

I knew how dissatisfied Cheongwol had been just coming to this castle city.

Likewise, I had felt her frustration when I tried to sabotage Dang Soran’s engagement.

And now, sneaking into Dang Soran’s room on top of that.

Cheongwol was putting up with a lot.

I couldn’t gloss over this as if nothing was wrong.

Risk management was essential.

Her expression wasn’t great even now.

To soothe Cheongwol like this, I had to thoroughly ignore Dang Soran as she wished.

I looked toward Dang Soran and said.

“Nothing’s catching my eye?”

Dang Soran flinched.

“…Pardon?”

Neglect play.

A play that severs all interest in the partner.

Neglect came in various forms.

For instance, leaving a masochist with a vibrating device inserted somewhere on their body, trembling in pleasure and begging for it to stop, while ignoring them coldly.

Watching them lose reason to lust, drooling and writhing, brought a strange itchiness and perverse thrill.

There was pleasure in that torment.

Another method was far colder and quieter punishment.

Making them face a wall, or freezing them in a specific pose.

Ignoring any reaction with utter indifference, suddenly cutting off the affection once lavished, driving the partner to desperation.

And this situation didn’t quite fit either category.

It wasn’t so much tormenting her as using Dang Soran’s tastes to play with her rival.

It wouldn’t be that effective or stimulating… but it would still be some form of punishment.

…Probably.

Above all, the star of this moment was Cheongwol, not Dang Soran.

This setup was a stage solely to soothe Cheongwol.

Cheongwol had softened a lot, but I didn’t trust it.

I doubted whether her nature could truly change.

A tiger doesn’t become a deer just because it ate some grass…

It didn’t matter if I seemed foolish for being wary of her like this.

There were reasons enough with Cheongwol.

Cheongwol looked satisfied at my words.

She glanced at Dang Soran and said.

“…Looking closely, Clan Leader, I don’t see anything either.”

****

Was it all an illusion?

Did Han Seojin not like me after all?

No. Surely… surely Han Seojin did like me…

“…Me…”

But his eyes held no image of her.

As if he had forgotten the month they shared joys and sorrows in Zhongqing.

The Yeohong they drank together earlier, the laughter they shared, the intimacy before Jegal Yong—all scattered like mirages.

His ghostly disregard made her anxious.

Above all, he was dressed so dashingly.

And in his most handsome moment, he ignored her.

“…Young Master, why are you suddenly acting like this?”

Still no reaction from Han Seojin.

“Q-Quickly chase out Cheongwol! This is our… our time…”

“…”

She knew. She knew this ignoring was an act.

…But even if it was acting, what if that gaze never turned to her again?

What if he kept acting like this from now on?

What if he only had eyes for Cheongwol?

“Eung…!”

It wasn’t just fear rising from the depths of her chest.

Rage surged from her shattered pride.

No one in the world treated her like this.

This was the first time her pride had been wounded so deeply.

She didn’t even know how to handle this new emotion.

I’d said that much.

I’d yielded quite a bit, hadn’t I?

Though unintentional, it felt like rejection from Han Seojin.

That Leather Room Clan Leader—what did she say…!

That beggar—what right did she have to reject me?

How great can you be…!

I’d treated her well for a few days, and now she’s arrogant…

Does she think she’s worth something just because she looks decent?

Han Seojin, of all people, daring to reject me?

Bastard. You’re not even that handsome…

“…I-Is this the punishment you talked about, Young Master?”

In her fear, Dang Soran couldn’t rein in her temperament and sneered.

“How is this even punishment? There’s a limit to delusions. D-Do you think I’m desperate to play games with you or something? I told you…! Just now was just a ploy to chase out Jegal Yong…”

But even to such pathetic words, Han Seojin showed no reaction.

His world contained only Cheongwol.

Only Cheongwol was aware of Dang Soran’s presence.

The two women’s eyes briefly met.

…And in that instant, a murky sense of victory gleamed in Cheongwol’s eyes, one only they would recognize.

“…Euk!”

Something welled up in her at that gaze.

Cheongwol’s misunderstanding was so unfair and irritating.

Don’t misunderstand. Young Master is closer to me.

You met him first, but I’ve shared deeper emotions with him.

This was the first time Cheongwol had struck her so painfully.

She hadn’t felt this much pain even in sparring.

But what if it really turned out that way?

What if he only looked at Cheongwol and ignored her completely…

What if admitting to stealing that hairpin had pushed him past his last patience…

She didn’t know. She didn’t want this.

End it. This isn’t fun at all.

Dang Soran tried to rouse her qi.

“…”

At the same time, a thought gripped her.

…If she rebelled against Han Seojin, wouldn’t their entire relationship end?

Just like all her engagements had been nullified.

Wouldn’t her bond with Han Seojin become irreversible too?

…That…

“…”

In the end, Dang Soran closed her eyes and turned her head away.

These bonds would end someday anyway.

Act like it doesn’t matter.

No, really, it doesn’t matter at all.

Han Seojin would regret it instead.

Even if he begged and cried later, she wouldn’t accept him. Let him live as a lonely beggar forever.

…She had to gather the fragments of her crumbled pride somehow.

She had to show it didn’t faze her, so Han Seojin would realize how stupid and pointless his actions were.

Unless he was an idiot, he’d know staying close to her held more advantages than that nun.

“Wol-ie.”

“Yes, Clan Leader.”

“Today’s game has no reason or purpose. I’m just doing it because I want to torment you.”

And as she pitifully patched together her pride, Han Seojin and Cheongwol’s intimate game began.

As natural as if a curtain divided her world from theirs.

Dang Soran pretended not to care, avoiding looking their way.

But the pain in her chest intensified like she’d drunk poison wine.

Cheongwol blinked briefly as if catching her breath, then replied.

“…Yeah. Sounds good.”

Han Seojin rummaged in his luggage bag, then sat on Dang Soran’s bed.

Leaving her abandoned in the corner, he sat on her bed as if he owned the place.

“Wol-ie.”

Han Seojin said with a smile.

“You’ve never had your butt spanked by me, have you?”

“…!”

Dang Soran’s heart sank.

“Th-That’s…!”

She couldn’t hold back and cried out, but Cheongwol’s confused glance silenced her.

Pretending to care here would mean losing.

But…

But that was…

Spanking the butt… that was supposed to be their game…

He’d only spanked her butt.

Cheongwol was still flustered with confusion and shame.

Just like Dang Soran’s first reaction.

“N-No… I haven’t.”

Han Seojin’s gaze, capturing Cheongwol’s flustered look, held deep satisfaction.

He looked forward to tormenting Cheongwol.

Joy at taking in another woman with his eyes.

It felt like he was saying there were plenty of women to replace her.

Like telling her there were many butts to touch besides hers.

Tap tap.

Han Seojin patted his thigh a couple times.

“Come here.”

He commanded Cheongwol gently.

Cheongwol hesitated as she walked over to Han Seojin.

Anticipation, excitement, and faint fear began blooming on her face, intertwined.

…And Dang Soran could only watch helplessly.

“I-I’m here.”

“Did you forget anything?”

“Huh?”

“The collar?”

“Ah…!”

Cheongwol let out a sigh of realization, but that didn’t mean she obeyed meekly.

She was still conscious of Dang Soran.

Just as Dang Soran hated showing her shameful state to Cheongwol, Cheongwol felt the same.

But she couldn’t hide her effort to overcome that emotion.

Pretending to be nonchalant, acting like there was no choice.

Hesitating, Cheongwol picked up the dog collar.

Even that one, she had gotten excited thinking she’d put it on herself.

“Kneel down.”

Han Seojin said to the approaching Cheongwol.

“…Huh?”

“Press your belly to my thigh and stick out your butt.”

Confusion flashed in Cheongwol’s eyes, and Dang Soran’s expression wasn’t much different.

A pose she’d never heard of. But it was sure to be intensely intimate.

Even Dang Soran, who had already been spanked twice, hadn’t tried this pose.

And Cheongwol was doing it from the start.

“…C-Clan Leader… even so, that’s…”

“Don’t want to?”

“…”

Cheongwol’s eyes flicked toward Dang Soran again.

She was probably embarrassed to show the game to Dang Soran too.

Unknowingly, Dang Soran spoke up.

“N-No way, Wol-ie.”

She tried to tease with all her might, injecting playfulness.

“No way the Emei Sect’s nun is going to obey such a shameful command without shame?”

But again, Han Seojin remained stone-faced.

“…”

Cheongwol turned her gaze away, as if agreeing with the ignore.

A long eye contact passed between Han Seojin and Cheongwol.

To interrupt, Dang Soran cried out again.

“Y-Young Master! What are you making the nun do! Have you gone mad? Have you forgotten Cheongwol is the Emei Sect Leader’s disciple?”

“…”

Another non-response.

That insignificant act felt unbearably heavy.

Please react, just a little.

Dang Soran knew it from the start.

Han Seojin wasn’t the type to care about status.

Nuns or Tang Clan daughters— to him, they were just toys.

Then Cheongwol reacted.

As if insisting she’d never end up like Dang Soran even if she died, Cheongwol blushed and bent her waist more easily than expected.

That prideful woman couldn’t defy a man’s single command to kneel.

“L-Like this?”

“Lift your legs off the floor. Put your full weight on my thigh.”

“I-It’s heavy…!”

“Our Wol-ie is light as a feather, isn’t she? Good girl, Wol-ie?”

At the light praise, Cheongwol’s cheeks flushed red, and so did Dang Soran’s.

But surely not for the same reason as Cheongwol.

Cheongwol slowly lowered into the pose.

Her long hair cascaded down his leg.

Han Seojin stroked her fine hair.

“Eut!” “Euk!”

The reactors were two.

The recipient, Cheongwol, and the watcher, Dang Soran.

Just as Han Seojin had done to her, Dang Soran wanted to ignore him the same way.

But his touch on Cheongwol, that warm attention, stabbed somewhere in Dang Soran’s chest.

That sharp pain didn’t even allow her to look away.

They wouldn’t stop the game just because she didn’t watch.

Han Seojin spread his legs wide to support Cheongwol firmly.

Soon, Cheongwol lay on his leg like a child.

A comfortable recline in the embrace of the large-framed Han Seojin.

Her peach-like butt was right within reach of his right hand, her head within reach of his left.

Swish.

At the same time, Han Seojin fastened it around Cheongwol’s neck.

“Ah…!”

It was the dog collar Dang Soran hadn’t been allowed.

Around Dang Soran’s neck was a shabby, grimy rope.

In contrast, around Cheongwol’s neck was a neat leather… so pretty dog collar.

That beggar nun was wearing something prettier than hers.

It seemed proof of whom Han Seojin favored more now.

The obedient Cheongwol was pretty, while the disobedient one was not.

The man who almost became her husband cherished another woman more.

That stark gap made it hard for Dang Soran to breathe.

Just a dog collar, yet it looked prettier than any jewel.

Grip!

Han Seojin roughly yanked the leash next.

“Eut!”

Cheongwol tilted her head back as her throat constricted, naturally arching her waist.

Her butt protruded even more lusciously.

Han Seojin looked at the struggling Cheongwol…

…Then slowly brought his hand to that butt.

“…I get it already…”

In the end, Dang Soran whispered in a voice no one could hear.

Of course, Han Seojin, unable to hear, continued.

Tap.

At first, his touch landed lightly like a feather.

But both Dang Soran and Cheongwol trembled greatly at it.

Swish… swish…

With a touch gentler than when he’d caressed her own butt… he stroked that lewd nun’s butt.

Tickling it softly and lightly.

Fingertips tracing the butt.

“…Haeut… heut…”

Cheongwol couldn’t hold back her moans at the touch.

Even with her throat gently constricted, it felt good.

Though her eyes drowned in greater shame each time they met Dang Soran’s, she never asked him to stop.

Her eyelids fluttered in embarrassment, yet she didn’t avert her gaze, as if savoring even the loser’s reaction.

It felt like Cheongwol was asking.

Can you see?

Senior Dang, are you watching?

Dang Soran couldn’t answer despite having a mouth.

Swish!

Next, he grabbed a handful of Cheongwol’s butt.

Visibly squeezing hard.

“Hnng!”

And the nun who shouted dreams of becoming a heroine didn’t even resist as her body was toyed with by a man.

“Our dirty Wol-ie, you’ve been hiding a butt like this all this time?”

“Heut!”

The full torment began.

No one would want to be in Cheongwol’s position.

Throat strangled, impending spanking on the butt…

Yet Dang Soran knew one woman who yearned for that spot.

Someone envied that violence.

Her eyes reddened with jealousy.

Stop it.

She thought inwardly.

Stop it.

Cheongwol, struggling to endure his touch, tried to block him briefly with her hand.

“Hnng! C-Clan Leader…! Hek! J-Just a moment…”

“Move your hand. I’m enjoying this.”

“Eung…!”

Enjoying it.

He never said that when touching my butt.

Cheongwol squeezed her eyes shut and awkwardly moved her hand.

Her fists were clenched small.

Han Seojin released the leash.

Cheongwol’s face was flushed, whether from the collar or the butt fondling.

“Haa… haa… Clan Leader…”

But Cheongwol’s face held more than pain and shame.

Dang Soran could see the lust rising on it.

Pleased even while tormented.

Dang Soran could understand that twisted Cheongwol.

Her gaze boasting toward her.

“Cheongwol-ah.”

Then, Han Seojin brought his face to Cheongwol’s ear.

Dang Soran and Cheongwol both swallowed.

“Now it’s just starting. Don’t act up already.”

“Haa… haa… Okay.”

Glance.

For the first time, Han Seojin’s eyes turned to Dang Soran.

Dang Soran couldn’t say a word under his gaze.

It felt like even her heart froze.

Such a man, as if punishing Dang Soran.

Flaunting their intimacy, he commanded Cheongwol.

“Your clothes are in the way. Lift your robe so it doesn’t hinder touching.”

“…Huh? Th-That means…”

“I said bare your butt.”