Chapter 15
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Aching Finger
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"The winner of this match is Mount Hua Sect's Yi Yi!"
The judge's shout echoed thunderously across the training grounds.
It sounded like the beat of a drum striking my heart.
I caught my ragged breath and sheathed my sword.
Sweat dripped from my chin, soaking the ground of the training grounds.
Today, I had survived again.
As I descended from the arena, the air that greeted me was markedly different from yesterday.
Countless gazes pierced toward me, laced with curiosity, awe, and jealousy clinging like shadows.
"Is that Mount Hua's Yi Yi?"
"A new face, but his swordsmanship was no joke. Clean, without any wasted motion."
"No flashy techniques, yet not a single opening."
Amid the murmurs, a few martial artists approached me.
They wore the robes of different sects, but the looks in their eyes were similar.
A strange mix of probing and acknowledgment.
"They say Mount Hua's Taoist cultivation runs deep, and it's well-deserved. I learned much from watching your sword."
"I'm Yu Jin of the Qingcheng Sect. If the chance arises, I'd love to exchange thoughts on training sometime."
A flood of polite greetings. I bowed awkwardly in response, feeling dazed.
The goodwill from these strangers felt awkward, yet something heavy welled up in a corner of my chest.
It was pride in being a disciple of Mount Hua—and the weight of responsibility pressing on my shoulders.
I pushed through the crowd and ran to Senior Disciple.
"Senior Disciple!"
When I stood before her, panting, her expression wasn't purely joyful.
Before I could even finish speaking, she suddenly grabbed my left hand.
"...Ah!"
A short groan escaped me without thinking.
Senior Disciple's gaze fixed on my left index finger.
It was the spot caught between my sword hilt and the opponent's blade earlier.
The finger, bruised black and swollen, throbbed painfully.
"Does it hurt? Your sword got tangled during that exchange..."
Senior Disciple frowned and carefully massaged the swollen knuckle.
Each touch sent a sharp sting racing up my fingertip.
I tried to force a smile, but the pain twisted my brow inescapably.
"Ugh... The bone's fine. I was just startled, that's all."
"Tch, what a fool. Come with me."
Senior Disciple kept hold of my wrist and strode forward.
She led me to a secluded spot behind Purple Cloud Pavilion, away from the training grounds' clamor.
Under the shade of an ancient arborvitae, she stopped and brought my finger right up to her eyes again.
"Hoo—, hoo—."
Like soothing a child, Senior Disciple blew gently on the swollen finger.
Her warm breath from her lips tickled the burning wound.
"How's that? Still throbbing a lot?"
Senior Disciple looked up with worried eyes.
I awkwardly lifted the corner of my mouth, pretending it was nothing.
"It's nothing, Senior Disciple. A martial artist's hand can't whine over a scratch like this. A bit of saliva will fix it right up."
I thought I'd answered bravely, but her eyes narrowed slyly.
A strange heat flickered deep in her pupils.
"Is that so...? Saliva will make it better...?"
With a low murmur, the corner of her mouth twisted up oddly.
Slurp—
Something wet and hot brushed past my fingertip.
It was her tongue. Senior Disciple's red tongue tip flicked out like a snake and licked the bruised knuckle.
"S-Senior Disciple...?"
I tried to pull my hand back in panic, but her grip was firm.
Senior Disciple feigned a serious expression, though her eyes glistened wetly as she took my finger into her mouth.
"Stay still."
Before the words finished, her lips enveloped my entire index finger.
The warm, tight inner walls of her mouth clamped down.
Her tongue wrapped and rolled around each knuckle, the sensation vividly obscene.
Slurp, slurrrp....
The slick sounds echoed in the quiet backyard.
It was far too lewd to call mere treatment.
Senior Disciple bobbed her head back and forth, sucking my finger deep as if it were a man's cock.
Each time it reached the back of her throat, the twitching of her larynx transmitted fully to me.
"Hngh, slurp, slurrp...."
She looked up at me, eyes rolled back.
Her saliva-glossed lips and hazy, unfocused gaze locked with mine.
Just from sucking one finger, pleasure raced up my spine, making my legs tremble.
The wet friction sounds in my ears had long surpassed any notion of healing.
Senior Disciple persistently rolled her tongue, probing between the knuckles while holding my finger captive.
Pop, smack....
Each time she pulled her lips away, strings of clear saliva stretched between my finger and her red lips.
The sharp tingle from my fingertip spread through my veins to my whole body.
As reason and instinct tugged at each other, a hot mass swelled deep in my gut.
Senior Disciple's hazy gaze seemed to egg me on.
No—perhaps I craved it more myself.
The secretive air of this backyard, her moist breaths, and the elation of victory mingled, making me bold.
"Haa...."
I exhaled roughly, murmuring in a trembling voice.
"S-Senior Disciple...."
"......"
Instead of answering, she tickled my nail with her tongue and narrowed her eyes.
A seductive look, as if asking why—or as if she already knew.
"This spot too... it hurts...."
I bowed my flushed face and dropped my gaze downward.
I looked at my center, straining taut and tenting my pants.
"It feels like... it's about to burst...."
At my blatant plea, Senior Disciple paused, then slowly withdrew the finger from her mouth.
Slurp, with a wet pop, my finger was freed—but her eyes were already fixed on the bulge in my pants where my gaze lingered.
"Hoo...."
She wiped her wet lips with the back of her hand, feigning surprise in a voice thick with sultry intent.
"Oh dear. That'll need a lot of saliva to heal...."
Senior Disciple glanced around like a cat eyeing prey.
Only the rustle of branches in the wind disturbed the silence.
This hidden nook formed by Purple Cloud Pavilion's wall and dense foliage was ours alone.
"...What if someone sees?"
Her scolding tone belied eyes already gleaming wetly with desire.
Senior Disciple slowly, very slowly, sank to her knees before me.
Swish.
Her delicate hand undid my belt, and the hot shaft trapped in my tight undergarments sprang free.
Facing the vicious, throbbing, blood-engorged thing, her throat bobbed faintly.
"It's... so swollen...."
Like with my aching finger, she brought her lips close to the inflamed glans.
"Hoo—, hoo—."
Her hot breath hit the sensitive mucosa directly.
A prickling chill made the muscles inside my thighs twitch.
Pursing her lips as if tending a wound, she lightly suckled the tip of the glans, then released it with a pop.
Smack.
"Ngh...!"
Even that slight stimulation made my hips buck involuntarily.
Senior Disciple, delighted by the reaction, teasingly rolled her tongue around the urethral opening.
It was tantalizing, obsessive caresses, like savoring a honey-coated pistil.
Lick, slurp.
"Senior Disciple, if you keep teasing like that..."
I was going mad with frustrated need.
Unaware or uncaring of my impatience, she only lightly nibbled the glans rim with her lips, flicking her tongue.
Each pass of her wet, hot tongue over the wrinkles sent electric thrills up my spine.
"Stay still. Rushing will make it worse—you need to soothe it slowly."
Senior Disciple looked up, eyes rolled back.
Her saliva-slick red lips parted slightly, her tongue peeking out seductively.
She lowered her head again, this time taking the whole glans into her mouth, softly kneading it with her inner cheeks while prodding the tip with her tongue.
Slurp, smack, slurrrp....
The viscous sounds swirling in her mouth filled the silent space.
The teasing pleasure, always on the edge, threatened to snap my last thread of reason.
As the maddening caresses continued, my patience reached its limit.
Boiling desire surged from my dantian like flames, ready to consume me from head to toe.
I could no longer endure this itchy "treatment" passively.
"Nngh, I can't... hold back anymore!"
Panting roughly, I grabbed her hair.
Soft strands tangled between my fingers.
As Senior Disciple looked up in mock surprise, I thrust my hips, driving deep into her mouth.
Squelch—!
"Guhk?!"
A choked gag escaped as my massive shaft pierced her tight throat.
Her eyes widened round, her larynx convulsing as it struggled to accommodate my desire.
The seamless, tight pressure and searing inner heat bound my cock.
Guuuhk.
"Khuh... Senior Disciple, sorry... but...!"
Once the path opened, I couldn't stop.
I gripped the back of her head firmly and began pistoning my hips back and forth.
Like savagely sheathing a sword, merciless and brutal thrusts.
Schlup, squelch, guk! Cough!
Not giving her a moment to breathe, saliva overflowed from her mouth with each invading thrust.
Clear drool trailed down her chin to her neck, but she didn't resist my movements.
Instead, she clutched my ass with both hands, opening her throat to fully accept the savage intrusion.
Slick friction and ragged breaths mingled, turning the once-quiet backyard lewd.
Physiological tears welled in her eyes, her hazy expression blending pain and pleasure filling my vision.
That sight dizzied me more than the world's greatest vista, striking harder than any martial art.
"Haaah! Senior Disciple...!"
In the accelerating rhythm, I lost myself, fixated only on the obscene lips before me.