What’s the most important thing in S&M play?
Whipping well?
No.
The real key is the harmony between whip and carrot.
People overlook it, but in S&M play, the carrot is a truly vital element.
Of course, preferences vary, but masochists don’t just like getting beaten by anyone, without any control over the intensity.
A masochist gets excited from receiving humiliation from the partner they desire, in the agreed-upon way, at the permitted moments, under mutual consent.
To put that misunderstanding in layman’s terms, it’s like saying women get aroused from being touched by just anyone.
Does that make any sense?
You have to have rewards to endure the humiliation.
Praise, acknowledgment, and willing comfort that come after enduring the humiliation and shame.
When all that ties together, pain turns into pleasure.
No one likes being cursed at, trampled, and whipped without any reward.
If such a being exists, it’s a true chew-masochist from legends.
Something that barely exists, and even makes me uncomfortable.
I looked at Cheongwol, whose mouth was gagged with silk.
Cheongwol wasn’t a masochist—she was a complete novice to this.
It was like dragging someone who’d never played games into an ultra-high difficulty Dark Souls-type game.
Yet I needed this newbie to enjoy this game to survive.
...So what should I do here?
Obviously, shower her with carrots like crazy.
Not a 5:5 ratio of whip to carrot, but more like 1:9.
Even if she rolls over and dies, just say she did great, she has talent.
She’s a beginner who’d cry and quit if hit now, so a single “good job” was her lifeline.
“...Good job.”
I spoke to Cheongwol, gagged with the silk bit.
“...”
Her body stiffened again, eyes blinking rapidly.
She still looked confused.
But I’m confused too.
What the hell do I even praise her for?
Still, to keep her alive, I had to soothe her like a floating buoy.
“It wasn’t that hard, right?”
“...”
What Cheongwol wanted right now was to shed the pressure imposed on her.
How could I make her let it go?
If I faithfully did S&M play and gave her shame, would it happen naturally?
But ramping up the intensity wasn’t easy.
I kept brainstorming possible plays in my head.
Not too high intensity, but not too low either.
Enough shame to feel it, but without wounding her heart.
I had to analyze her face, her eyes, even the trembling of her fingertips.
With my life on the line, my mind was spinning fast.
She had no idea how noisy my head was.
Damn, this is driving me crazy.
This wasn’t the S&M play I wanted...
Why do I have to be this cautious...
I glanced at her.
She was glaring at me like she wanted to bore a hole through my head.
...Look at this bitch’s face.
Is a masochist supposed to stare down a sadist’s face so brazenly?
...She can stare. She’s not a maso, and she could kill me.
For now, to buy thinking time, I headed to the wall lined with tools.
I felt Cheongwol’s gaze following me.
Leather cuffs. Rope. Blindfold. Whip. Collar... and so on.
Various implements hung there.
What should I pick?
What do I choose to survive this?
...For starters.
I selected one tool and approached Cheongwol again.
Without a word, I reached to grab her wrist.
Cheongwol slapped my hand away in resistance.
As if telling me not to touch her body.
At the same time, the tool I’d brought flew off and clattered to the floor.
What I’d chosen was leather handcuffs.
Even after swatting it away, Cheongwol boldly met my eyes.
Normally, this is where you’d berate her, but if I did, I’d be dead.
Like hell she’d obey what I say. She’s just full of rejection.
I stared at the tool for a while, then asked Cheongwol.
“...Should we not?”
“...”
Cheongwol’s eyes quivered.
As if her inner heart demon wanted something, but not this.
She was stuck, unable to go forward or back.
Her blatant rejection made my heart race too.
Were the cuffs too much?
...No, I chose them. If I back off just because she did that, my dignity’s shot.
Besides, how do I tone it down from here?
She hasn’t even felt real pain or shame yet.
I can’t just praise her for nothing.
Let’s do some proper WWE here!
You gotta take the whip to get the carrot and comfort, right?
If she rejects this, what the hell am I supposed to do?
Hiding my confusion, I picked up the cuffs again.
This time, instead of cuffing her right away, I leaned my upper body forward.
“...”
“...”
She stood rigid, neither retreating nor yielding, like she was defying me.
Maybe she was just stiff from the awkward new environment.
Because of that, our bodies ended up closer than necessary.
Close enough to feel each other’s breaths.
I whispered into her ear.
“...You have nowhere to lean on, do you?”
“You called me a loner or whatever... but you’re the real loner, aren’t you?”
Cheongwol hunched her shoulders.
I poked at her sore spot to boost my authority.
I kept stepping through the minefield.
“When I said before that social expectations or duty become shackles, you clearly wavered. You were in that situation too, right?”
“...”
“You hate being called Emei Sect’s Thousand-Year Flower, yet you gagged me to keep your true self from leaking out. You endure the expectations from the Central Plains and Emei Sect, but deep down, you hate it. Right?”
Say yes, please.
I whispered into Cheongwol’s ear, then glanced at her.
Before I knew it, her eyes were vacantly staring ahead.
Yet the trembling in her gaze told me I’d hit the mark to some extent.
I let out another sigh of relief.
Good. So far, so good.
Yeah, it couldn’t be wrong. The original story said so.
Next...
“But none of that matters here. Here, you’re not Emei Sect’s Cheongwol. Let all that go.”
Her eyes slowly, tremulously turned toward me.
It wasn’t trembling from fear of me, of course.
It was the confusion of facing an unknown concept.
“From now on, you follow only my commands. That’s your new goal. Even if it’s acting, that’s fine. At least here, do that.”
I wondered how this proposal sounded to Cheongwol, who’d never once followed someone else’s orders.
“Just now... put on these handcuffs.”
Cheongwol showed no reaction. No yes, no no.
I didn’t wait for an answer.
Instead, I lifted the handcuffs again.
I reached for her wrist again.
My fingertips lightly slid over her skin.
It was cooler and softer than expected.
She was used to killing people, but unused to being touched like this, giving a small flinch.
Her purity was making this harder for me. If she reacts like this to a single touch, what now?
She pulled her hand away with less resistance than before.
I gripped her wrist more forcefully in response.
Her eyes widened slightly at the coercion.
This time, she couldn’t pull her arm free.
“These cuffs... you could break them with your strength if you wanted.”
I said it to reassure her.
No, you have to accept this to move forward.
How much more coaxing do I need?
“So don’t be scared.”
“...”
I slowly, very carefully, brought the handcuff to her wrist.
Her pulse throbbed under my palm.
The thin, soft skin was warming up, as if forgetting its earlier chill.
The left hand went on fine.
Good. We’re progressing.
I glanced at Cheongwol’s face again.
...She’s still interested, right? What if she gets bored midway and slashes everything...
No. Don’t think that.
First the left, then the right...
“...”
As I tried to cuff her, I was a bit surprised by her right hand.
Compared to her left, her right hand was definitely rougher.
Still delicate as jade, but the knuckles were twisted here and there compared to the left.
Her palm was full of calluses.
A few scars on the back of her hand. Like a tiny battlefield.
“...”
Her efforts were visible in that one hand.
Even my hands, which make a living crafting leather gear, aren’t this bad.
Noticing I’d frozen while looking at her hand, Cheongwol pulled it away again.
Her eyes sharpened a bit, and for a brief moment, shame flickered.
...Is it because she’s a woman after all?
Now’s the time.
Carrot-throwing moment.
I stubbornly held her hand and told her.
“...You worked really hard, huh. I can tell just from your hands. They’re pretty.”
At that instant, a small “hmph” snort escaped Cheongwol.
“...?”
I glanced at her.
Cheongwol, surprised at herself, bowed her head to hide her expression.
Did she see reacting as defeat? Her neck and ears flushed with shame.
“...”
...Yes!
Praise works on anyone.
Praise makes even whales dance.
It seemed to work on Cheongwol too.
Especially since she trained so hard.
That’s how she becomes one of the Demonic Cult’s Seven Heavens later.
In the meantime, I cuffed her remaining wrist.
Now, with her mouth gagged, both wrists were bound together.
Emei Sect’s Cheongwol stood before me, bit-gagged and wrists restrained.
“...Good job. You look pretty when you obey.”
“...”
That unbelievable sight made even my resolve waver a bit.
...That enough? Should we stop here?
I checked her reaction.
“...”
...Ah, shit. Not yet.
I had to do more. My instincts told me so.
She was confused by this incomprehensible situation, angry at me for forcing it.
Watching to see what it meant.
If I end it like this, I’m done.
Should I raise the intensity a bit more?
To match S&M’s reputation... add something sexual?
Definitely, it was still too vague to call this S&M yet.
I squeezed my eyes shut, then steeled myself.
...Yeah, let’s do it.
A sadist’s everything is confidence. Once you start the play, don’t flinch.
Since she’s so innocent, the effect might be huge.
From here, it’s a gamble.
“Cheongwol.”
After the hand praise, her breathing had grown ragged—huff... huff...—and through her falling hair, she glared at me.
I made the proposal.
“How about a little bet?”