The Kirin of the Hengshan Sect (9)
The Kirin of the Hengshan Sect (9)
It was the fifth day since the massage began.
"Hah...! Ah...!"
The moment Im Seo-ryeon returned, she stripped off her undergarments and threw herself onto the bedding. The teasing, tantalizing game of tapping her fingers over her undergarments—as if merely playing around—only made her body burn hotter with each passing day.
At first, she had hoped to cool the heat by touching herself with her fingers. She thought that if she touched lightly to send jolts of stimulation through her body, she could somehow endure the nights that way.
"Aang...!"
But one day, while pressing her fingers deeply through her undergarments, she discovered that the deeper she pressed, the longer the electrifying sensation lasted throughout her body. From that point on, her fingers could no longer be described with words like 'tap, tap, tap.' Instead, she repeated a motion of thrusting in deeply and slowly pulling out.
"Ah...! Ah...! Aaht...! Uuht...!"
And what she realized yesterday was that even that wasn't enough. She discovered that pressing with a wider surface than a fingertip and rubbing up and down felt far better.
The fact that such a broad, sweeping upward pressure could feel so good gave her an excuse—that she had to be able to cool her own body's heat to escape this filthy demon.
"Hah! Ahh...! Aht!"
Sweeping over her bare skin, with her undergarments off, felt even better than over the clothes.
"Heuht! Ah! Aaang!"
Moving her hips in a bouncing motion in rhythm with her hand felt better than moving just her hand alone.
"Ah...! Ah...!"
The moment the attendants departed, she crawled under the blanket and slipped her hand between her legs, rubbing her petals up and down with an open palm. As her palm and her tender secret place slid together with wet, lewd sounds, drenched in obscene fluids, Im Seo-ryeon twisted her body, letting out moans soaked in bliss.
"Ahh! Ah!"
Then, with all her strength concentrated in her hand, she bucked her hips, sending vulgar slapping sounds echoing through the room.
"Ah...! Ahh...! Aheu...!"
At last, with her back arching like a bridge, trembling and quivering, she reached a light peak.
"Ah..! Aaahhk..! Aaah...!"
And yet, even after reaching that peak, Im Seo-ryeon realized the stimulation was still not enough to quell the lust blazing in her core.
Docheol and Seon-go had touched every inch of her body, slowly escalating the pleasure to a new threshold, making it impossible for a novice's clumsy masturbation to bring her to a proper orgasm. After the electrifying sensation swept through her, her body let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh, as if asking:
'Is this it?'
Without realizing it, Im Seo-ryeon turned her head. Her sword lay before her eyes. The scabbard, long and smooth, its surface blunt.
Im Seo-ryeon, her body trembling with pleasure, unconsciously reached out her hand.
[What is a sword?]
It was a humid evening, with the sound of raindrops—ttok, ttok—falling onto the ground.
In the distance, from the deputy commander's quarters, sounds dripping with lust echoed on, oblivious to the approaching dawn.
"Honey. I'll show you a new technique today. Now, if you move your hips like this! Like this...!"
"Nuuoooooo! Uuooooooook!"
Amid those incongruously lewd sounds, Im Seo-ryeon replayed her master's question in her mind. Back then, she had knelt before her master, and behind the master, a long, blunt sword gleamed with a polished luster. At the time, Im Seo-ryeon had been curious about the difference between her master's sword and her own.
Why did the master's sword shine just by looking at it? Why did it make such a beautiful sound when swung, and why was it lighter than hers? Why couldn't she swing her sword as lightly as her master?
Those were days when idle thoughts filled her mind more than the desire to polish her martial arts. Her master, as if understanding Im Seo-ryeon's complicated, childish heart, smiled and asked the question.
[Seo-ryeon. What do you think a sword is?]
Back then, Im Seo-ryeon had answered like this: looking straight at her master with a bold face and clenching her fist tightly.
[It is climbing a mountain.]
[Why do you think that?]
[Because it means endlessly surpassing those ahead and running forward. Pursuing a realm, then pursuing the next realm, and continuing to climb. That is how one can reach the summit. Therefore, I believe training in the sword is like climbing a mountain.]
But her determination to climb to a high position through the sword didn't seem to sit well with her master. Im Seo-ryeon's master slowly shook her head, smiling, and said:
[That is not a good answer.]
[Why is that? For one who learns the sword, is it not natural to pursue realms?]
[No, it is not. Whether it be realms or strength, they are ultimately nothing more than empty names called by others. People love to evaluate the process of our learning and realization by attaching numbers and empty formalities like first-rate or second-rate, and they also wish to be evaluated.]
At that moment, Im Seo-ryeon's master drew her sword as if to demonstrate. There was not even the sound of the blade scraping the scabbard, and when she swung it, not even the sound of wind parting could be heard. Even as the essence of the Hengshan Sword Technique unfolded before her eyes, Im Seo-ryeon could not properly follow the sword's movement.
Only when the thin blade reflected the sunlight pouring onto the training ground could she catch a fleeting flash of form and guess its trajectory. After unfolding the final stance of the Hengshan Sword Technique, dragging her foot across the ground and tilting the glimmering blade, the master stood upright.
Im Seo-ryeon's jaw dropped; she couldn't speak. The master smiled with satisfaction, as if refreshed by that single sword dance.
[How could one who pursues truth through the sword seek to divide people by rank? Dividing people creates superiority and inferiority. Once superiority and inferiority arise, true intent becomes distorted and the heart becomes infested with demons.]
When the sword was sheathed, a soft sound was heard. As if deliberately meant for her to hear, the light sound of the blade and scabbard brushing together rang in Im Seo-ryeon's ears.
[We must not be like that. We have gathered here to realize the way of the world through martial arts, so we must not be like that.]
The scabbard made a 'tak' sound, echoing across the wide training ground, and Im Seo-ryeon felt her heart tremble as well.
[Seo-ryeon. I hope that you will come to use the sword differently.]
"Master...!"
At some point, Im Seo-ryeon had risen and was reaching for the sword.
A tear had welled up in her eye, and her face was flushed red with shame she recognized all too well.
Her body, heated from four days of massage, made her grip the sword before she knew it. She ran her hand once over the shape of the blunt scabbard, then hugged the sword to her chest.
Im Seo-ryeon hugged the sword tightly, as if clutching a doll, and positioned it so the tip of the scabbard was aimed at her secret place. Then, raising her hips to rub against the blunt scabbard, she closed her eyes and savored the pleasure.
"Eung...! Heung...! Ah...!"
Her fingers could not satisfy her.
No matter how much she tapped and rubbed, she couldn't fully resolve her heated sexual sensitivity. It felt as if a single, mind-blowing peak would clear everything, but instead, an incomplete release occurred again and again, turning her head into a complete mess.
So she used her palm.
By rubbing and grinding with her palm, she was finally able to reach a peak, but her body, as if finding that insufficient, demanded even greater pleasure. Unable to find relief any other way, Im Seo-ryeon at last reached for the sword.
"Ah! Aang! Eung! Ah!"
[How could one who pursues truth through the sword seek to divide people by rank? Dividing people creates superiority and inferiority. Once superiority and inferiority arise, true intent becomes distorted and the heart becomes infested with demons.]
Her master's voice echoed in her head.
The master had always taught her in a calm, unhurried tone. Even when she first learned the Hengshan Sword Technique, her master had personally taken Im Seo-ryeon's sword to demonstrate the stances of the sword art.
"Ah! Aht! Uuht! Ah!"
[We must not be like that. We have gathered here to realize the way of the world through martial arts, so we must not be like that.]
Im Seo-ryeon had many excuses.
"Aaang! Aaht! Uuht! Ah!"
For instance, she could tell herself that this was a ritual.
Since a sword was also a shamanic tool for cutting down monsters and evil spirits, she was performing a ritual to wash away her wicked heart by rubbing her body with the sword.
"Ahk! Ah! Aaang! Ah!"
But in truth, Im Seo-ryeon couldn't even muster such an excuse. Once she pressed the scabbard against her body, she simply fell into a trance and did nothing but rub.
"Eung! Aaang! Ah!"
What started lying down, rubbing against it as if hugging a pillow,
"Aahhh! Ah! Aht!"
soon turned into raising her body and moving it up and down as if thrusting with the sword.
"Hah...! Ah...! Ahhh! Ahk! Ah!"
And then, bucking her hips, she bounced them as if slamming against the end of the scabbard.
"Ah...! Ahh...! Aaahh...!"
More easily than before, she reached the peak.
"Aaahhhng! Ahk! Uht...!"
As she trembled through the climax and lifted her body, she suddenly recalled her master's voice.
[Seo-ryeon. I hope that you will come to use the sword differently.]
Would the master truly acknowledge this method as well?
Im Seo-ryeon did not particularly wish to ask.