The Supreme Masterpiece
With a soft dr-r-r-ek, Bang So-un emerged from the room, his breath coming in ragged gasps, utterly soaked in exhilaration.
Jang Il. That bastard Jang Il. That monstrous bastard!
It was a masterpiece. No, it wasn't something you could just call a "finished product." It was art of the highest order, leagues beyond anything else.
Techniques like creating corpse puppets that mimicked living people for control, mind-suppressing arts that dominated the will, lust-inducing arts that drove victims mad with desire—none of the sinister methods that had terrorized the martial world could even whisper their names in the face of Jang Il's creation.
Corpse puppets were pallid without a drop of blood, expressionless, mute. Those subdued by mind-suppression arts fared slightly better—no pallor, but bloodshot eyes and slurred speech. Lust arts were a step up, but victims stayed in a perpetual state of feral arousal, squirting love juices and howling at the slightest brush against sensitive spots like the nape or earlobes.
But Jang Il's Magnum Opus was entirely different. Her eyes were clear and alluring, her pale skin suffused with a subtle rosy glow, just as always. Her beautiful face shifted with vivid, lifelike expressions in response to every emotion. She wept in gratitude, smiled in joy, blushed in shame. Her speech was fluid, never slurred, and she wasn't constantly in heat.
If crude techniques like corpse puppets, mind-suppression, or lust arts produced mere objects, Jang Il's work was a living, breathing human. Aside from the parts manipulated by Jang Il, she was simply Hwang Bo-seol as she had always been.
How intricately and delicately must he have tampered with her thoughts, memories, and values for her to feel no dissonance, acting so naturally? If the altered thoughts hadn't seamlessly blended with her originals like water, without interference, she might have shattered into madness from unbearable mental chaos.
"...Heh heh, how do you like my finished product, young master?"
Bang So-un startled. Lost in thought, he hadn't noticed Jang Il approach.
Jang Il wore the smug grin of the world's greatest chef awaiting praise after unveiling his finest dish.
"Perfect. Beyond perfect. It's so good it's dangerous."
"What part pleased you most?"
"You must've drilled her so harshly during training that the idea of the master being strict and terrifying got embedded deep in her subconscious. When I treated her gently, she teared up in gratitude. You know how it is—it's annoying when an ugly bitch does that, makes you wanna smack her head. But when it's a peerless beauty like her, murmuring '...I'm so grateful, my lord...' with tears streaming down? Any man's heart would melt. I got so flustered I even felt genuine emotion and blurted out something embarrassing like, 'You truly are my beloved wife.' You've made it damn hard to keep face today."
Jang Il doubled over, bursting into laughter.
"Puhaha! So what? You've got a wife so stunning others would envy you, and I've trained her perfectly in etiquette—she serves her husband with utmost respect. What's there to worry about face in front of her? Puhah, though that line you dropped was a bit cringy. You told me to be harsh first, but seeing you flip like that... I reckon you shouldn't hold a proper wedding until you meet a woman who really suits you. Just raise her as a slave for now, haha!"
"Yeah, yeah. The face thing was just talk—it's my way of saying your work is incredible. Good job."
Bang So-un patted Jang Il's shoulder in commendation when the conference room door opened.
"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting so long, my lord."
Hwang Bo-seol froze upon seeing Jang Il standing beside her husband.
Jang Il greeted her first.
"Greetings, madam."
"Ah, yes. Warrior Jang."
To Hwang Bo-seol, there were no memories of the training. She knew Jang Il only as Bang So-un's trusted retainer and bodyguard.
Jang Il flashed a meaningful smile.
"Then I'll leave you two to enjoy your time. I'm off."
"Yeah, take it easy—no work for a while."
"Yes, sir. Though you'll be in paradise all afternoon, young master, haha."
With a cheeky bow, Jang Il sauntered off toward his quarters with quick, light steps.
"That guy."
Bang So-un chuckled briefly before urging the blushing Hwang Bo-seol, embarrassed by Jang Il's teasing joke.
"Let's go, madam."
The moment they reached their honeymoon chamber, Bang So-un scooped up Hwang Bo-seol's slender frame and flung her roughly onto the bed as if discarding her.
In a flash, he stripped off his own clothes and pounced on her like a starving man at a feast.
"Ah, my lord... Let this lowly wife remove her clothes too..."
"A rich lady like you must have plenty of outfits, right?"
"Pardon? Ah... yes."
"Good. Then excuse me."
Rip rip. Bang So-un tore into Hwang Bo-seol's garments with brute force. Shreds fluttered through the air like rags before hitting the floor. He ripped her outer robes to pieces, then shredded her under-skirt into fragments.
Now, only her breast bindings, panties, and scattered tatters of cloth clung to her body. The sight offered a tantalizing eroticism distinct from full nudity.
Hwang Bo-seol stared wide-eyed, unsure how to react to her lord's savage handling. What should I do? Should I remove my panties myself? No, maybe he likes tearing them off...
Bang So-un spoke up.
"How is it, madam? Do you like being ravished by me?"
"Of course, my lord."
"But not long ago, you saw me as a parasite and wanted separate bedrooms, didn't you?"
"Wh-what are you saying...? This lowly wife never thought such a thing..."
Thud. Her heart plummeted. Shock like falling off a cliff tore her mind to shreds. Nausea surged from the unbearable confusion. Her body trembled uncontrollably.
Even if it was a misunderstanding, the fault was hers for letting him harbor such painful thoughts. She hadn't earned his trust. A failure as a wife.
She'd vowed not to cry, but tears welled up again. If he weren't atop her, she'd have knelt, clung to his legs, and begged. Instead, pinned down, she pleaded with sorrowful eyes.
Bang So-un stopped her.
"Ah, sorry. I was just curious about your reaction... It was a joke—don't mind it."
He'd sensed it in the conference room too: from the wedding to today, her memories of him had been replaced with fond ones. So seamlessly she noticed nothing amiss.
Casually testing it had blanched her face in horror.
"...Please, no more such jokes. It tears this lowly wife's heart apart."
"I'm truly sorry."
Bang So-un couldn't hide his awkwardness before her genuinely heartbroken plea. One wrong word had cooled the heated mood.
He needed to rebuild the fire. Come to think of it...
He recalled Jang Il's advice yesterday while teaching the activation phrase: one trigger was spanking her ass to induce arousal?
"As apology, I'll make you feel good. Roll over."
"Y-yes..."
Bang So-un lifted off to let her turn. This time, he sat beside her hips instead of mounting.
Directly below his gaze: her buttocks, wrapped in thin fabric like butterfly wings.
He reached out, caressing her ass over the panties. He'd felt bony asses like a man's, or flabby, sagging ones on fuller women. Most women probably fell into those categories.
Not Hwang Bo-seol. Moderate perfection? No—hers transcended balance. Voluptuous and ripe, yet firm with vibrant elasticity under his fingers, never sagging. The kind many women would envy.
Perfection's ideal. That suited her.
Savoring the soft, springy feel, his hand rose into the air—then slammed down hard.
Smack!
"Kyaa...!"
Hwang Bo-seol yelped in shock. Her struck cheek burned fiercely, like punishing a disobedient servant.
Terror crossed her face.
"Th-this lowly wife... must have wronged you, my lord. Forgive me."
"No, nothing like that. First time, so you don't feel it yet. It'll feel good soon."
Bang So-un resumed spanking her ass.
Smack! Crack! Smack!
"Ack! My lord! Mercy... It's all this lowly wife's fault. Aaaah...!"
The thrill of freely slapping this beauty's ass hardened his cock, reigniting the heat. And soon, she'd feel it too.
Crack!
"Ah... aaah...!"
How many blows? Amid the pain, something else—a tingling spark raced up her spine, scattering. Fleeting as an arrow's release, yet her heart raced, sweat trickled down her back. Pleasant, whatever it was.
Smack! Each strike amplified it, lingering longer. Now she knew: ecstasy. An intoxicating, unprecedented bliss.
"Aang... ahn! Hnggg..."
Pain vanished, overwhelmed by frenzied rapture swirling through her body. Every vein burned hot. Her heart pounded wildly. Fingers clutched the sheets like tearing them. Breaths came in panting gasps. Groans of agony morphed into wet, lascivious moans.
Only then did Bang So-un's hand stop.
"Haaang... My lord, spank me more. This lowly wife is a bitch in heat from your slaps on my worthless, oversized trash ass. Hng... So... smack this slut's ass more. Aang... My lord!"
Hwang Bo-seol was lost to reason, face flushed crimson with lust, sticky eyes pleading coquettishly. Love juices soaked her panties and sheets. The drenched fabric served no purpose.
He ripped off her breast bindings—pink nipples stood erect atop jiggling breasts. Finally peeling the wet panties, Bang So-un commanded.
"I'll deflower you. Ass up."
"Aang... Yes! Hurry and tear open this slut's filthy pussy! Ream it with your noble cock as much as you want!"
Hwang Bo-seol wiggled her ass high, perfect for thrusting. Her aroused slit spasmed, gushing fluids.
Bang So-un gripped her lush breasts, aligning his raging cock with her entrance.
Finally. His first time penetrating a real woman, not a whore. And it was a world-class beauty like Hwang Bo-seol. Overwhelming emotion surged, heart swelling.
Father... I'm a real man now.
Squelch.
Mindful it was her first, he eased in gently despite the slickness. But her walls expanded just right, welcoming him smoothly. It sank root-deep effortlessly—not loose from wear, but snugly compressing his entire length.
Is this what they call a famous pussy? He'd heard of women whose walls could contract and expand at will, granting ultimate pleasure. Sure enough, hers tightened.
"Eurk!"
He cried out. The squeeze milked him relentlessly, as if wringing out every drop. Unimaginable pressure—like it might sever him. Pleasure unlike any other woman's shot through his cock, pounding his body.
Squelch. Squelch.
Overwhelmed by the famed pussy's bliss, Bang So-un pistoned frantically a few times.
But really, just a few.
"Hah... haaah... Fuck...? C-cumming?"
Like a man with severe premature ejaculation, he climaxed after mere thrusts. He couldn't hold back.
Splurt.
Ejaculating into her, he collapsed in exhaustion. Emptiness engulfed him.
"Aing... My lord, feels so good. Thrust more. Keep thrusting. This filthy pussy's burning. Driving me mad... ahng... Cool it with your noble cock."
Hwang Bo-seol begged, lewdly shaking her ass. But it only deepened his misery.
"W-wait. I just came. Give me a moment... to recover..."
"Hng... This lowly wife will help your noble cock rise again. Help me... then thrust more. Let me cum. Aang... I need it so bad but can't. Only your cock can make this slut climax."
She rolled over, crawled to him, and lavished his spent cock with her tongue.
Lick, lick.
Devouring the semen on his glans with slutty relish, it stirred slightly. She engulfed and sucked.
Slurp, smooch.
Sucking hard repeatedly, teasing with her tongue. Her efforts paid off—his cock stood fully erect again.
"Aaah... Your cock's back to full strength, my lord."
Right. This time for sure.
Resolved, Bang So-un laid her flat, spread her legs wide, and pressed his glans to her entrance.
Last time was doggy—most stimulating for men, explaining the quick finish. Missionary should last longer.
Squelch. Pound. Thrust.
Different. So different. Longer. Longer.
"Aang... So good, my lord! Too good, going mad... ahn... Moreee..."
Yeah, Hwang Bo-seol, I'll send you to paradise...
"Haaah...?!"
Splurt.
Fuck. ...Father.