Chapter 7 First play (2) - Martial Arts Masochist

What's the key to successful SM play? Is it the skillful wielding of a whip? No. The truth is, the harmony of the whip and the carrot is of utmost importance. It's often overlooked, but even in SM play, the carrot is truly vital. Of course, there are differences in preferences, but just because someone is a masochist doesn't mean they enjoy being hit by just anyone without any control or consideration. A masochist becomes excited only when they're subjected to agreed-upon humiliation, at the appointed moment, by the desired partner. To understand, consider an analogy to the general perception of women—implying that they get excited by being touched by just anyone is absurd. They're still human, just with different preferences, so they enjoy compliments like anyone else. It's the reward that makes the humiliation bearable. Enduring disgrace and shame, followed by a returning compliment, acknowledgment, and comfort readily given. When all these elements are woven together, pain transforms into pleasure. No one enjoys being solely criticized and trampled on without reward. If such a person exists, they are the ultimate legendary masochist. A nearly nonexistent, and even to me, unsettling presence. I looked at Cheongwol, whose mouth was covered with a cloth. She was far from a masochist and was completely new to all this. It's like bringing someone who's never played games to one as challenging as the Da** Souls series. Yet, for her to survive, she must learn to enjoy this game. ...So, what should my approach be here? Naturally, I must offer an abundance of carrots. Instead of a 5:5 ratio of whip to carrot, it should be adjusted to something like 1:9. Even if she falters and struggles, I must say she's done well and has talent. As a novice who might quit while crying when hit, a single word, 'Well done,’ was a lifeline. "...Well done." I spoke to Cheongwol, who was gagged. “...” Her body tensed up again, and she blinked repeatedly, still seeming confused. But I'm confused too. What on earth made me feel the need to praise in this situation? Yet, to survive, I had to comfort her tenderly. "It wasn't that hard, right?” “...” What Cheongwol wants right now is to let go of the pressure placed upon her. How can I help her release it? Would adhering strictly to SM play and inducing shame naturally lead to that outcome? But elevating the intensity isn't easy. I kept brainstorming plausible actions in my mind. Not too high in intensity, yet not overly low. Giving her a hint of shame, but not leaving a scar on her heart. I needed to analyze every aspect of her—her face, her eyes, the trembling of her fingertips. The sense of urgency made my mind race. She probably had no idea how frantic my thoughts were. Really, it was driving me insane. This wasn’t the SM play I’d imagined... Why did I have to tread so carefully with her? I stole a glance at her. She was glaring at me as if to burn a hole through my head. ...Look at her posture. Is a masochist supposed to stare so boldly at a sadist? ...Well, she’s not really a masochist and might as well kill me. For now, to buy time to think, I headed toward the wall lined with instruments. I sensed her eyes following me. Leather cuffs. Ropes. Blindfolds. Whips. Collars...etc. Such a variety of instruments hung there. Which would be the right choice? What selection would see me through this? ...Alright. I chose one and approached Cheongwol again. I tried to silently reach for her wrist. -Slap! Cheongwol defied me by striking my hand away. As if to say, don't touch me. Simultaneously, the item I had brought along flew away and fell to the floor, making a sound. -Thud. What I had chosen was the leather cuffs. Even after knocking it away, Cheongwol confidently met my gaze. Ordinarily, I would reprimand her here, but doing so might lead to my demise. Not a single thing has been done as planned; she's just resistant. After staring at the instrument for a while, I asked Cheongwol, "…Should we stop?” “...” Her eyes trembled. Deep inside, her heart may have its desires, but externally, she was opposed. Caught in uncertainty. Her visible reluctance made my heart jittery. Maybe the cuffs were too much? ...No, but I chose them. Turning back after such a reaction would undermine everything. Besides, how else could I lower the intensity? Cheongwol hadn’t truly felt pain or shame yet. It wasn't like I could offer praise for something she hadn't engaged in. Let's have a little W○E (Work on Emotions) here! You have to feel the whip to earn the carrot, to receive comforting pats! If she rejects even this, what am I supposed to do? Hiding my turmoil, I picked up the cuffs again. This time, instead of immediately cuffing her, I leaned forward. “...” “...” She stood her ground, like a challenger, not taking a step back but turning rigid. Perhaps she was just stiff from unfamiliarity in this new environment. As a result, our bodies were unnecessarily close. Close enough to feel each other's breath. I whispered into her ear. "...You. You have nowhere to lean on, do you?" -Flinch. "You said I was a lone wolf, but...aren't you the real loner?" Cheongwol shrank her shoulders. I probed an uncomfortable spot to assert my presence. I continued trying to navigate this minefield. “When I once said that societal expectations or responsibilities felt like shackles, you visibly reacted. Were you not in a similar situation?” “...” “While you dislike the name Millennium Flower of the Emei Sect, you tried to silence me out of fear your true self would slip out. Although you endure the expectations placed on you by the land, the Emei Sect, within you, it's something you detest. Am I wrong?" Please tell me I'm right. Whispering into her ear, I took a peek. Her eyes began to stare emptily ahead, yet the flickering in them indicated I'd hit a nerve. I breathed a sigh of relief. This was good. It was still good. Yes, I can't be wrong. It was all there in the original story. Next, I need to... "But here, none of that matters. Here, you are not Cheongwol of the Emei Sect. Let go of all those burdens." Her eyes slowly turned to me, trembling. It wasn't from fear of me. It was the confusion of someone confronting an unfamiliar concept. "From now on, just follow my orders. That's your new goal. Even if it's just an act, do it here." I couldn’t say how this proposal sounded to Cheongwol, who had likely never taken orders from anyone. "Right now... put on these cuffs." Cheongwol did not react. There was no acceptance or rejection. I didn’t wait for a response. Instead, I picked up the cuffs again. -Swish. Once more, I reached for her wrist. My fingertips brushed lightly over her skin. Cooler than expected, yet softer than anticipated. Though accustomed to taking lives, being touched this way seemed unfamiliar to her, making her flinch ever so slightly. Her innocence was disarming, making my task more difficult. How to proceed when even the slightest touch provokes such a reaction? -Snap. This time, she weakly withdrew her hand. -Thud. In response, I firmly grabbed her wrist. Her eyes widened slightly at the insistence. This time, she couldn’t pull away. "If things come to it, these cuffs are something you can break free from with your strength." I assured her to provide comfort. After all, isn't accepting it the way forward? How much more coaxing and soothing must I do? "So don't be afraid." “...” Cautiously, I brought the cuffs to her wrist. Her pulse pounded under my palm. The delicate, silky skin, shedding its earlier chill, warmed. -Clink. The left cuff was secured. Progress was being made. I glanced at Cheongwol’s face. ...Is she still interested? I worried she might lose interest midway and wreck everything... No, let's not think about that. First, the left. Then the right... “...” Reaching to cuff the right hand, I was taken aback. Her right hand was noticeably more rugged compared to the left. Though still fair, the bones of her right hand were twisted here and there. Her palm was calloused. Scars lined the back of her hand, like a battlefield in miniature. “...” It was clear how much effort she exerted through that hand alone. Even my hands, accustomed to crafting leather goods, weren't this worn. -Swish. Noticing my pause, Cheongwol pulled her hand back once more, her gaze a touch sharper with a flicker of embarrassment. ...Does it still matter to her since she's a woman? Now’s the time. Time to throw in some praise. Clinging to her hand persistently, I spoke to her. "...You've worked hard. It's evident just from your hands. They're beautiful." At that moment, a faint snicker escaped her. “...?” I glanced at her. Seemingly surprised at herself, she bowed her head, hiding her expression. Perhaps she considers reacting to be a defeat. Her neck and ears flushed with embarrassment. “...” ...Exactly! Praise works on everyone. Compliments can even make a whale dance. It seems it's working on Cheongwol too. Especially with the rigorous training she’s done. That's why she becomes a renowned master in the future. -Clink. In the meantime, I fastened the cuffs on her other wrist. Now, her mouth gagged, wrists bound together at last. Cheongwol of the Emei Sect stood before me, mouth sealed, wrists restrained. "...Well done. You're pretty when you listen well." “...” Faced with the incredibility of the scene, my resolve wavered. ...Is this enough? Should we stop here? I watched for her reaction. “...” ...Ah, damn it. It's not enough yet. I need to do more, my instincts say. Confused by this unexplained situation, she was furious with me for forcing it upon her. As if waiting to see its significance. Ending it now would spell my end too. Should I raise the stakes a bit? Should I introduce something to match the SM reputation... possibly something more sensual? Indeed, it feels too ambiguous to label this as SM just yet. I closed my eyes tightly, steeling my resolve. ...Alright, let’s add it in. A sadist’s greatest strength is confidence. Don’t back down now that the play has begun. Her innocence might amplify the effect. From here on, it's a gamble. "Cheongwol." Still catching her breath from the hand's compliment, she peered through her cascading hair, glowering at me. I proposed, "Shall we make a bet?"