Dang Soran couldn't believe it.
The girl that she was. The eldest daughter of the Tang Clan of Sichuan, raised delicately and preciously.
Standing right in the middle of a filthy bandit mountain stronghold, her arms bound, eyes blindfolded, clothes torn to expose her skin.
And just moments ago, she'd been shoved by Han Seojin, rolling on the ground, even getting her ass smacked.
From the perspective of the Tang Clan of Sichuan, this would warrant ripping the culprit to shreds and then some.
...Yet the Dang Soran actually going through all this was lost in emotions she couldn't comprehend at all.
The thrill of being defiled.
She couldn't accept that fact with her head or her heart.
But her body had already embraced the excitement.
Her ears instinctively sought Han Seojin's voice, her legs drawn toward his direction.
If she approached now, she'd surely be shoved away again or get her ass smacked once more.
Even so, she couldn't stop her steps.
...Rather, deep in her chest, she was waiting for that very moment...
"Haa... haa..."
Why on earth am I thinking like this?
Dang Soran was perplexed.
Perhaps it only hit her for real after that smack on the ass.
That the game which had kept her up at night, mercilessly crushing her pride, had begun anew.
She whispered softly.
"Haa... haa... Young Master... you're there... right there..."
"Come quickly. You're slow like a slug."
Each step felt like walking on thin ice. That tension drove her mad.
Countless worries scrambled her mind into chaos.
What if Han Seojin abandoned her and left?
What if the bandits woke up?
What if everyone saw her like this? Or what if they already had...?
"Haa... hng...!"
Even so, Dang Soran finally felt her own existence.
This tension. This fear. This disgust—she'd missed it more than she knew.
Even if it was an unwelcome emotion, it was hundreds, thousands of times better than the endless void of hell.
And the one making her feel it was none other than Han Seojin.
The owner of the Leather Room on Mount Emei, whom she'd mocked and belittled so much.
...The only man Cheongwol cared about.
"Ah...!"
It was less than five steps in reality, but it felt like days of walking before Dang Soran finally touched that familiar warmth.
Her forehead touched first, and her partner gently embraced her once more.
"Hngaa..."
Returning to him brought a dizzying relief that made her whole body shiver.
The fact that he—the man Cheongwol cared about—was holding her added to the thrill.
"Hnng... aa..."
Everywhere his embrace touched felt an impossible warmth.
Her fully exposed chest was now hidden in his arms, and she felt relief enough to bring tears to her eyes.
The pleasure of reclaiming what she hadn't wanted the bandits to see was that much more intense.
The silent embrace seemed to praise her for her efforts.
In this state, Han Seojin became utterly terrifying, yet endlessly gentle.
Recalling the thirty days they'd spent together made that warmth feel even hotter.
A first-time emotion stirred her heart.
His clothing brushing her chest tips—she couldn't tell if it comforted or teased her, driving her frantic.
"My body..."
Dang Soran whispered her honest truth to him, only in his embrace.
Here, she could bare her deepest feelings more than ever.
"My body's gone strange... Young Master... what have you done to me...?"
The dull thud of a thick palm striking her ass.
"Kyaa!!"
With that sound, a hot surge rushed up her spine.
A strange sensation spread from her smacked ass.
The pain melted into pleasure, the ache slowly turning into a wicked sense of depravity.
Dang Soran panted, instinctively clamping her legs together.
"Stop... stop hitting me...!!"
Even as she said it, Dang Soran had no confidence in her own feelings anymore.
Was it truly from hating the hits, or just remnants of habits she'd learned?
Shouldn't a woman protest when her ass is smacked?
Perhaps she, who'd allowed such behavior in the first place, was just playacting as a normal woman.
But if she didn't at least say that much, she'd have to admit how twisted she'd become, so she rebelled even more.
"Give back the Detoxification Immortal Root, and I'll stop spanking you."
Dang Soran bit her lip and shouted.
"No...! I can't give it back...! Why should I hand over the Tang Clan's treasure just because you've done something to me?"
"That was personally gifted to me by the Clan Leader."
"Th-that was because the Clan Leader entrusted you with taking care of me! But you're treating me like this...! How can you shamelessly demand the Detoxification Immortal Root?"
"So you won't give it?"
"Yes...!"
Then, after a moment's hesitation, Dang Soran habitually spat out words sure to anger Han Seojin especially.
"And...! I especially won't bring it to you for Namgung Young Master!"
"Ahng...!"
A rougher strike, whipping up onto her ass.
As if her ass were his property, toying with it like a casual plaything without permission.
Dizzying pain pierced through her.
"Still got room for more punishment, huh?"
Han Seojin's hand roughly stripped off another layer of her outer clothing.
Only her undergarments remained.
"Ah! N-no, don't!!"
Dang Soran reflexively burrowed into his embrace.
Forgetting pride and face entirely.
To hide her exposed chest, she rubbed her face against the chest of the very man tormenting her.
But Han Seojin didn't accept her.
Instead, he just spun her around again.
"No... don't...!"
Dang Soran shook her head, trying to cling to him, but her bound arms were too weak to hold him, and without inner energy, she couldn't resist a man's strength.
When Han Seojin pushed her back, Dang Soran stumbled forward, losing her balance.
More vulgarly, more vulnerably... her legs trembling, she was cast alone into the empty space.
Dang Soran turned to approach him again—but
Han Seojin began moving at that moment.
Dang Soran had to halt her steps, anxiously focusing on his sounds.
She'd come to depend on her dominator without realizing it.
"Whew... Soran-ah. Some of them are starting to twitch. Won't be long before they all wake up."
"Let me go... please let me go...!"
Dang Soran hurried toward his voice, if only to cover her chest.
"Shivering like that and still coming back? Does our Soran want her ass spanked that badly?"
"It's not... not that... my chest..."
"Your chest? It's pretty, so it's fine to show it off, right? Let's brag to these guys here. Show off how beautifully the eldest daughter of the great Tang Clan of Sichuan, Dang Soran, has grown her breasts."
"Nng... hng...!"
Tears welled from the shame.
Her head spun. Her heart raced.
Yet beneath all the discomfort lay a violent pleasure.
So this is what lewd feels like.
She didn't want to understand. But her body reacted first.
Thinking it vulgar, yet her body was drawn to that vulgarity.
Dang Soran cautiously groped forward with her feet, slavishly following Han Seojin's voice.
She had no choice. His side felt the safest.
The most comfortable and at ease.
...So she couldn't possibly hand over the Detoxification Immortal Root.
She didn't want to let go of this fullness filling her chest, found after who-knows-how-long.
She didn't want it going to Cheongwol.
But without handing over the Detoxification Immortal Root... this humiliation wouldn't end.
In the endless conflict, she only drew closer to Han Seojin.
"Careful to the side. If that guy's eyes open, he'll see your tits right away."
She twisted at his words, but that only let cooler wind brush her sensitive spots more.
'...Nng... nng...'
Then, a low, hoarse groan drifted from somewhere.
Undoubtedly from a bandit.
Chills raced up her spine at the sound.
"Aa...! Aa...!!"
Dang Soran couldn't even speak properly, hastily chasing Han Seojin's footsteps.
She didn't think about how pathetic she looked.
"Wh-where...! Where are you...! Young Master...!! Stop tormenting me...! I, I was wrong!!"
All her senses focused intently.
Ears perked sharper, even her nose straining to catch his scent.
"Come here."
At the voice that finally came, she rushed desperately toward it.
His touch against her forehead.
"Ah...! Aaa...!!"
Dang Soran melted into relief once more.
But this time, to avoid being pushed away, she pressed her body even closer than before.
Her breasts seemed crushed against him, but that was better than showing them to lowly bandits.
Fortunately, Han Seojin didn't shove her away immediately.
"Will you return the Detoxification Immortal Root? Or... do you want more punishment."
He just posed the same question.
Dang Soran had no idea what to do.
She couldn't give it. Nothing had changed.
But... the fact that the bandits were slowly stirring pressured her.
Dang Soran finally sniffled and whispered.
"We...! We were close, weren't we!!"
She clung to their thirty days together.
"You teased me a bit, sure...! But we pranked each other...! Ate dumplings together...! Slept side by side...! So why are you being so mean...! Hng!"
"You have to reflect on your wrongs for me to accept you again. Who hugs a bad kid just because they cry?"
"But... but...!"
"You won't return it?"
"Nng...!"
"Yeah, let's keep going then."
Han Seojin's hand gripped the last layer of clothing on her.
Dang Soran realized instantly what he'd do and cried out her hidden truth.
"I'm scared of the night!!!"
Tears soaked the cloth.
Han Seojin's movement paused at her scream.
"Every night...! I have nightmares every night!!"
"..."
"That time... by the campfire, you asked why...! Why I wasn't sleeping...!"
Dang Soran kept sniffling, whispering into his embrace as she pressed close.
"Do you think...! I do it because I want to...! But... but Young Master...! When I'm with you... it feels less...!"
"..."
"Why?! Can't I have that? Everyone in the Central Plains knows a heart demon plagues me...! Are you shocked now?"
"..."
"Do you think lots of people treat me this roughly? Do you think anyone treats me this normally? Being near you calms my heart a bit...! So... become one of our household...! Just...! Just help me a little, is that so hard? I'll let you live comfortably even if you're poor and lowly!"
She'd never clung to anyone like this.
She might regret spilling her heart tomorrow, but the pressure, tension, and strange excitement relentlessly pushed her.
"Come to the Tang Clan of Sichuan. Then I'll give you the Detoxification Immortal Root... so... so, Young Master..."
Han Seojin replied, his tone a bit gentler.
"...Don't throw a tantrum, Soran-ah."
"..."
Dang Soran was speechless. But not from shock.
She knew why.
She'd already sensed she couldn't dominate him.
She was just throwing a tantrum as he said, and she knew it.
"Nng!"
He spanked her ass again.
Punishing her naughty self.
"I hate murim folk. Don't want to get involved."
"Why... why...! What's wrong with murim peo—"
"—Don't ask why. Not gonna answer."
He spanked her ass again while she was in his arms.
But was it the warmth starting in his voice? It didn't hurt like before.
Rather, each smack seemed to build trust between them, making her feel more tightly bound.
Dang Soran was gradually realizing he wasn't hitting her out of hatred, and yielding her body to such a him felt wickedly thrilling.
Unsure what to do with her restless body, she clung to him even more.
"Ahng...!"
"I'm sorry you have nightmares. But don't use that as an excuse to control me. That's not how you handle people, Soran-ah."
"I know... I know but..."
"Hng...!"
Her ass began to throb.
But that only fueled her depravity more.
She was being disciplined by this Leather Room owner, yielding her ass to him.
"Do you know and still do it?"
Then, feeling unfairly sulky, Dang Soran asked like a confession.
"But... couldn't you help me even a little? Is that all our bond amounts to?"
"..."
"...Why the silence—"
"—You're precious to me too, obviously."
Dang Soran's face flushed bright red.
"Nng...!"
The pain hit simultaneously.
But now, she didn't hate this pain.
"So when you try to go down the wrong path like this, I punish you. Soran-ah, I believe you'll become truly great someday. You won't need my strength to get there. You've done fine so far, haven't you?"
"It's... the limit now..."
"No. You can do plenty well. Don't be afraid. Don't you trust my words?"
Almost a pat now, his hand striking.
Like comfort, it stirred her emotions further.
In that moment, Han Seojin removed Dang Soran's blindfold.
Dang Soran blinked, looking at the man holding her.
Her face flushed even deeper.
Meeting his eyes felt like her heart stopped.
"Nng..."
Suddenly ashamed anew, Dang Soran buried her face in his chest.
Dang Soran shivered, accepting his touch.
At some point, her hips even swayed gently toward his hand.
And as this unfamiliar punishment continued, she grew clearer on what she truly felt.
...His discipline felt good. Insanely so.
Addictively.
'Ah.'
Thus, Dang Soran had to understand.
Her desire to possess Han Seojin included his very freedom like this.
Like caging a pretty bird the moment you catch it, killing its charm.
Han Seojin had to remain her dominator to truly be Han Seojin.
That realization drained the strength from her body all too easily, emptily.
Now accepting who was wrong and who should yield.
Accepting the spanks until she reflected, Dang Soran asked.
"...Even if you won't become my household..."
"...if I ask... will you help me? Can we... keep this relationship going?"
"You'll come barging in on your own, like always."
At his point, Dang Soran chuckled.
True enough. In the end, she was always the one forcing her way to him.
Even if he didn't come to the Tang Clan of Sichuan, she could just go to Mount Emei.
Dang Soran closed her eyes, accepting the pain he gave.
Each of his touches left traces on her heart.
In this journey, she'd gained something priceless, she finally realized.
She'd gained Han Seojin.
The time drawing them closer compensated for everything.
Hadn't he said she was precious to him?
That fact alone filled her heart.
Han Seojin dwelled somewhere in her soul.
From that place, her world gained color.
"...-did it..."
Dang Soran whispered to him.
"What?"
"...I... was wrong."
Han Seojin's hand stiffened briefly.
But only briefly—then he spanked her ass pleasurably again.
"I was wrong... Young Master... for hiding the treasure... for teasing you..."
"I was... wrong... so wrong..."
She kept whispering the parts that had weighed on her heart.
And with each admission, her mind lightened more.
Finally, Han Seojin patted her ass.
By now, it had become his.
"...I was too harsh too, huh? Sorry. But since you admitted your wrongs, I—"
"—More..."
"...Yeah...?"
"...I don't think... I've been punished enough yet."
"..."
Dang Soran pleaded in a whisper.
"...Spank me more."
Han Seojin froze, silently raising his hand.
His gentle touch continued.
"More... Young Master."
"More..."
****
I held the now-quiet Dang Soran in my arms and raised my hand.
Terrified my pounding heart would give me away.
The surrounding bandits groaned, showing signs of waking soon.
I rolled my eyes around.
My palm stung like mad.
...This...
...how much more does this masochist need to be satisfied...?