The Kirin of the Hengshan Sect (8)
The Kirin of the Hengshan Sect (8)
"Then get plenty of rest. I'll give you another massage tomorrow."
"...Very well."
Im Seo-ryeon felt irritation and a pang of regret at Docheol's gentle farewell. The reason was clear: the Crimson Ring Sect leader had not put her at ease. He surely knew how to quell this ominous heat blooming in her body, yet he had offered nothing.
Still, Im Seo-ryeon understood she must never ask how to relieve it. Nor could she let anyone see she was aroused.
"Haa... haa..."
Im Seo-ryeon didn't know that people would describe her current state as being "flushed with desire."
For her, the pleasure that had swept through her body today was uncharted territory. Heat surged to the crown of her head, and a restless, tingling sensation in her lower belly tormented her body without release.
In this state, she couldn't even circulate her inner energy.
Meditation was out of the question—unable to focus, she simply holed up in her room, clutching her scabbard and enduring the ache of arousal.
"Hnn...!"
Her legs squeezed together before she knew it. Every time she pressed her thighs tight and the flesh touched, a strange, electric thrill rose from below and cooled her body. As if an itch had been scratched, her expression relaxed, and she made an odd face, flexing every muscle.
"Hnn..."
When she clenched her legs shut, that fleeting, tingling sensation vanished like the wind; when she straightened them, a hollow, teasing pleasure made her body tremble ceaselessly, so she squeezed them together again.
After repeatedly pressing her own lower body in search of relief, Im Seo-ryeon could bear it no longer. She wedged the scabbard between her thighs and gritted her teeth.
She mustn't do such a thing. A Taoist cultivator must not chase pleasure through such a lewd act.
Yet her legs drew together of their own accord.
As if climbing a rope, she gripped the scabbard as a brace and squeezed her legs,
pressing her thighs against its cold, blunt surface.
"Uhh...!"
The moment she involuntarily rocked her hips, scraping her most intimate flesh against the hard scabbard,
"Ah...!"
Im Seo-ryeon was swept up in an unprecedented, obscene sensation and nearly dropped the sword. But as if spellbound by that lightning-like pleasure, she clutched it again. Belatedly, she glanced around and steadied her breathing.
Then, with legs spread, she looked down at her sword. The tip of the scabbard and the slight mound of her lower body, pressed forward as she sat, were barely apart. Tilting the sword just a little would bring the scabbard down onto her most secret place.
"Ah... aah..."
The pleasure she had felt moments ago would drench her body again.
Im Seo-ryeon's eyes wavered. Her brown hair, thrown into disarray, fell over her shoulders. As if carried by the momentum of temptation, her body naturally closed her legs once more.
When she lifted her head, her gaze had been wholly fixated on the scabbard. She saw herself stealthily raising her hips toward it, knees almost touching.
"Ah, no...!"
She cried out, unsure who she was shouting at, and pulled her hips back. Carefully, she laid the sword by the head of the bed and tried not to look at it. Shaking her head from side to side, she forced herself under the blanket, curled up tightly, and struggled to cool the fire raging inside her.
"Haa...! haa...!"
Her fingers kept twitching, so she clenched her fists.
And she told herself, over and over:
I won't lose.
I won't crumble over something like this and make a shameful scene.
******
"Did you sleep well?"
The next morning, Im Seo-ryeon faced her adjutant with a weary face—she hadn't slept properly while trying to cool the pent-up pleasure. She had expected the adjutant to be surprised by her appearance, but instead, it was Im Seo-ryeon who was taken aback when she met his eyes.
His face was drawn, as if he'd been struck by the Great Energy Absorption Art, and his steps were unsteady. Startled by his haggard look, Im Seo-ryeon asked,
"...Were you attacked?"
The adjutant smiled awkwardly and shook his head. "Ah, no. Well... last night, I... I was treated very, very well. I don't know if I should say this, but it was pure bliss. I felt like I was gazing upon the Wuling Paradise itself."
Im Seo-ryeon held her head and sighed. The adjutant, who was supposed to keep his wits about him, was in such a state that she had no one to lean on mentally.
"You're from the Zhuge Family, yet I don't understand why you act so rashly. Once you get a taste of debauchery like that, you'll never escape."
The adjutant grinned at her warning. "Oh, it's fine. Besides me, there are three others in the Zhuge Family who can lead the clan."
The Zhuge Family had four brothers, all renowned for their martial arts and scholarship; expectations were high. The adjutant was the youngest. Im Seo-ryeon didn't like that he was using his family's competence as an excuse for his own negligence.
"Adjutant. You mustn't do that. Using such reasons to squander your talent and let your days waste away is never right."
The adjutant looked at her with a faint smile, but when she fixed him with a stern gaze, he composed himself.
"...I'll keep that in mind."
Im Seo-ryeon turned away and took a deep breath. As the adjutant withdrew, she felt her own face flush with shame instead.
Once you get a taste of debauchery, you can never escape.
Wasn't she, too, saying that to herself?
In the distance, a door opened. Inside, Seon-go, her black hair neatly braided, waited demurely. Beside her stood Docheol, watching.
The moment she saw this, Im Seo-ryeon drew a sharp, involuntary breath.
********
"We'll stop here for today."
"Hnn...! Haa...! Ah...! Aah...!"
Clawing at the blanket spread on the floor, Im Seo-ryeon let out moans. Without realizing it, she ground her crotch against the blanket, subtly rocked her hips, and gasped for breath while clutching her scabbard tight.
Seon-go washed her hands and then wiped various parts of her body; Im Seo-ryeon strained every nerve as if trying to catch fragments of pleasure even from that touch.
"Ah...!"
But that day, too, she didn't reach the peak.
The clumsy, teasing touches always left her teetering on the threshold of pleasure.
"Thank you for your hard work."
Whether she knew Im Seo-ryeon's state or not, Seon-go calmly wrapped her body in clothes. Though she tried to appear composed, Im Seo-ryeon's face was flushed and her eyes couldn't find focus.
Seon-go smiled at her and said, "If my husband had done it, he could have made you feel even better... I'm embarrassed that I couldn't fully satisfy you."
Im Seo-ryeon felt her ears twitch at those words, but she couldn't let it show. She mustn't. If she surrendered her body for such an unwholesome purpose, she felt some part of her life would begin to crumble.
"...Ah, no. I was satisfied..."
She wasn't.
If it had simply felt unpleasant, that would have been better. But every time, just before a fierce storm of pleasure broke over her, the couple's massage cut it off—like slamming a window shut.
Im Seo-ryeon pretended nothing was wrong and stepped outside. Her lower belly was hot and tingling, making her steps unsteady.
"Haa...!"
A moan escaped her lips involuntarily.
Startled, Im Seo-ryeon clamped her mouth shut and tried to forget the sound she had made.
******
"Nng-ah! Ah! Honey! You're so good!"
"Ah-yuk! Ah...! Uooooh...! Ooh...!"
Back in her room, she could faintly hear the adjutant being wrung dry. The lewd sounds, which she would normally find pathetic, were now a catalyst setting her body on fire.
"Uwoooooo!"
Because when those naked, vulgar moans reached their peak, Im Seo-ryeon caught herself envying the two of them.
But she mustn't be defeated by this pleasure.
She was, after all, a first-rate master of the Hengshan Sect, someone who had long lived upholding Taoist teachings.
And she was a sword cultivator, after all.
Thinking this, Im Seo-ryeon lifted her head.
There, she saw the sword.
To a martial artist, the sword was the most important companion—sharing life and death, joy and sorrow.
To a Taoist practitioner, the sword was a sacred ritual implement, and also the path to becoming a Sword Immortal.
And now, for Im Seo-ryeon, the sword...
had a blunt, glossy scabbard, just the right thickness to embrace between her legs, made of hard material...
"No!"
Im Seo-ryeon rejected her own gaze, which had been fixed on the sword as if entranced.
And wrapping her arms around her quivering, overheated body, she curled up.
She pinched her thighs, gritted her teeth, and slid her hand between her legs.
In that moment, as her mound brushed against her forearm,
"Ah..."
a numb sensation rose with a moan.
Her sensitized body was so heated that even the smallest stimulus brought great pleasure.
"Haa... haa..."
Maybe a little touching wouldn't hurt.
Better to relieve it some other way than to entertain lewd thoughts with a sword.
Isn't it better to handle it yourself than to cause an incident?
In her head, a question-and-answer rationalized what she was about to do.
Since the one asking was her and the one answering was her, the right answer was already decided.
She raised a single finger.
She tapped her finger on the mound protruding from the squeezed flesh between her crouched thighs, and with a twitch of her shoulders, began to savor the stimulation.
"Ah...!"
It'll be fine as long as it's just this.
After enduring that simmering pleasure for so long, this much was surely permitted.
"Uh-ah...!"
Like a child at play.
Tap.
Tap.
"Aah-huh...!"
Her finger wriggled, drawing out a moan.