Cheongwol picked up the bundle of clothes Han Seojin had tossed her.
The deep ink-black fabric didn't even have sleeves.
The moment she put it on, it was structured to expose her skin from under her arms all the way to her fingertips.
On top of that, the hem only fell just above her thighs, barely covering them, while the sides were cut away entirely, leaving the outer curves of her legs brazenly exposed.
It wouldn't even hide the thin straps of her undergarments, and if even a breeze brushed against her...
Everything would be laid utterly bare.
That outfit was no garment for a person to wear.
It was practically the kind of clothing courtesans wore to flirt with men.
"...H-how am I supposed to wear this...?"
"Why?"
"I-if even a breeze blows, my... my undergarments..."
"No wind blows in a basement."
"Ugh... Eek!"
Han Seojin let out a long sigh.
"...Just as my acting differently outside this basement feels strange to you."
"...?"
"Every time you return here, you look strange to me too. What's there to be ashamed of?
Don't you remember what you said that day?"
Cheongwol's heart clenched tight.
A damp sense of depravity washed over her.
He was right, in a way.
Words she had uttered herself.
In a haze of having lost everything, sobbing and trembling, she had spoken them aloud.
'...I... am a... vulgar... filthy... w-woman...'
The memory of that day resurfaced vividly in this basement.
The corner of Han Seojin's mouth twisted.
"The person who said those words—why act like this in front of me now?"
Cheongwol couldn't respond.
Even without opening her mouth, the shame spread deep into her chest.
"You're going to wear it anyway. Hurry up and put it on."
But no matter what he said, this outfit scraped too harshly at her pride.
Cheongwol steeled herself several times, examining the clothes... but no matter how she looked at them, they were far too revealing.
She wouldn't have worn them even without anyone watching.
Yet Han Seojin, the witness, stood right in front of her.
It felt strange.
It had felt less shameful to bare her back to him wearing only her undergarments.
This outfit covered her body more, objectively... yet it felt far more vulgar.
In the end, Cheongwol collapsed to the floor with a thud.
Her legs had gone limp; she couldn't help it.
Showing such a pathetic sight, sitting right there in place—it was the first time she'd done so in front of anyone.
Even this embarrassed her beyond measure.
"...Give it here if you're not going to wear it."
At that moment, Han Seojin spoke.
"Huh?"
"And get out."
He strode over without hesitation, reaching to snatch the thin garment from her hands.
Smack!
"Eek!"
"...What?"
But for some reason, strength flowed into Cheongwol's grip as well. With her head bowed low, she refused to let go.
If she let this chance slip, it would be ten days. Han Seojin wouldn't let her into this place.
Then she'd have to go back.
Prepare for the martial exhibition.
Take her rest amid her suffocating senior brothers.
...And ultimately endure humiliation before a crowd.
She would have to bear all those moments without even a shred of release.
That sense of freedom—she could only feel it here in this basement.
Han Seojin tugged the clothes left and right to wrest them away.
Cheongwol's arms flopped weakly side to side, but her fingers held firm.
Like a swordswoman gripping her blade.
"...Are you going to wear it?"
Cheongwol slowly shook her head.
No, no.
She was already changing, step by step.
This childish sulking was a side she never showed others.
But upon entering this basement... she felt the burdens on her shoulders lift bit by bit, reverting to a more honest version of herself.
This might have been the girl inside her taking action.
"Not going to wear it?"
...No, no again.
Cheongwol knew she had to, yet she couldn't decide.
In Han Seojin's games, this part was always the hardest.
If he simply doused a still figure like her with water.
Or ordered her not to come down from some wooden block, or to stay put.
She could endure that kind of coercion.
...But stripping voluntarily, or speaking certain words, or performing actions on her own.
Choices like that were the most difficult of all.
And in this extreme humiliation, Cheongwol's body trembled.
Today, she felt especially vulnerable.
After arguing with the Sect Leader, her insides in turmoil, she'd come seeking something to lean on...
Yet he was even colder and stricter than usual.
...If she'd known it would be like this, should she have ignored him at the market?
Kept their promise more strictly?
But without drawing close like this... she wouldn't have been able to endure.
"Hoo."
At that moment, Han Seojin sighed and released the clothes.
As Cheongwol glanced up at him, he took a rope from the wall and approached.
He crouched down to meet her eyes and said,
"...Today."
His low, calm voice continued.
"I'm going to tie you up with this."
Cheongwol froze, taking in his pounding words.
"Take away your freedom... and punish you."
Words that should have sounded cold.
But Cheongwol's breathing grew steadily rougher.
A shiver trailed down her throat, blanketing her body in an oddly familiar way.
"...But if you're still wearing your Emei Sect uniform, this rope will keep rubbing and chafing... it could bruise your skin. It might even cut you."
"...Huh?"
"...I'm saying this for your body's sake. Changing will hurt less."
He wanted her to change for her own sake?
But even so...
"I-if that's the reason... why is the outfit so vulgar?"
"...That's my preference."
"..."
His brazen confidence left Cheongwol speechless.
As she let out a shaky breath, Han Seojin added,
"Wanting to see you looking even prettier—is that wrong?"
"Eek."
"...Come on."
Han Seojin stood quietly.
"I'll close my eyes. Count to thirty. If you're still wearing that Emei Sect uniform when I open them again... I'll really leave this basement. Keep that in mind."
****
I closed my eyes.
"One."
Cheongwol still didn't move.
Only her ragged breathing echoed.
The nice thing about this was how easy it felt in moments like these.
If I swung dominance too aggressively, she'd resent it... but to a degree, I could wield it without greed.
I didn't have to do this play, after all.
Sure, missing out might be a shame, but life mattered more.
So I counted without hesitation.
"...Two... three... four..."
Eek, ah—hesitant sounds rang out... then the noise of her rising from her spot.
Could she actually be changing? My heart pounded.
"...Five... six... seven... eight..."
"J-just close your eyes and turn around...!"
I ignored her.
"Nine... ten... eleven... twelve..."
"Y-your eyes...! Y-you're really closing them, right?"
The shorter the time left, the more frantic she grew.
And that frantic voice... hate to admit it, but it sounded good.
It stirred my inclinations.
I picked up the pace too.
"Thirteen... fourteen... fifteen. Sixteen."
"Y-you're suddenly speeding up—what am I supposed to do!"
Rustle rustle—she made noises.
I still hadn't seen anyone wearing something like that.
"Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty."
"Eek! G-give me more time."
Forget that outfit—no woman in erotic clothes at all.
No courtesans on Emei Mountain. To see one, you'd have to cross to Sichuan.
Even then, a night with one there was said to cost a fortune.
So this situation, even if I'd been pushed into it... it was undeniably stimulating for me.
"Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Twenty-three."
The outfit might be too short. I'd clicked my tongue after making it.
If she wore it, great; if not, oh well—that was the plan.
I'd pushed it for maximum shame.
...Would Cheongwol actually do it?
Rustling sounds continued... for real?
"Huh? Sh-shopkeeper. Give me more time, I said?"
As time dwindled, my anticipation soared despite myself.
In this dull, conservative world.
Changing into lewd clothes she herself felt ashamed of, right in front of me.
...And she's a stunning beauty too.
Only an eunuch's heart wouldn't race.
"Twenty-four. Twenty-five. Twenty-six."
"Give me more time!"
I clicked my tongue and paused the count.
"Begging is an order."
Since when does a masochist order a sadist around?
I adjust intensity by reading her, sure—but I can't obey commands.
This is payback, girl.
Besides, changing clothes doesn't take over thirty seconds? Not like stockings. It's simple to put on.
"Ah... Eek!"
"Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine..."
I prepared to open my eyes.
"Alright, eyes open—"
"—T-time!"
"...?"
I paused at the loud cry.
But anyone would have, at the strange emotion in that voice.
Cheongwol whispered right after.
"...Please..."
My breath caught.
...What?
My mind blanked for a moment.
But as if to confirm I hadn't misheard, Cheongwol said it again.
A voice thick with moisture.
A plea of submission.
"...Pl-please... give me more time."
While I stood stunned by the shock, her frantic rustling continued.