Chapter 24 Bondage (1) - Martial Arts Masochist

**Bondage (1)** Bondage. In other words, restraint play. It's often considered the highlight of SM play. There are various ways to restrain a person. Handcuffs, shackles, tape... among others. However, the pinnacle has always been one thing. Rope. The reason rope is probably the most popular is that it's the most versatile tool for various plays. With a single rope measuring about 3 to 4 meters, you can suspend a person in mid-air. You can secure them in an embarrassing position, or even manipulate them using the rope. Nevertheless, bondage can appear intimidating to those unfamiliar with SM. Binding a person with rope? And being excited by it? Isn't that excessively irrational and perverted? ...Well, it is perverse, but when stripped of its ties to ropes, the act of restraint itself is a rather mainstream genre. Scenes where one is trapped against a wall, unable to move past with just shoulders and chest. Role plays from foreign adult films, like being stuck in a large washing machine. Or even being stuck in a window frame or an elevator. Add tentacle play or time-stopping scenarios; it all boils down to an instinctive excitement towards 'a person who can't move.' Thus, bondage in SM isn't an entirely unfamiliar genre to everyone. Ultimately, the real issue lies with the rope. Rope can be unfamiliar and evoke discomfort. If so, why use rope instead of other equipment that might cause less discomfort? ...It's because you've never seen a talented expert at work! Depending on the knot technique, tying the body with rope can highlight the body as if wearing shapewear. The waist becomes slender, the hips and chest appear larger, and the neck looks more delicate... ...Anyway. I, too, have expectations about bondage. Perhaps because I prepared ropes with thoughts of Cheong Wol... ...I was curious about how it would be when Cheong Wol, who acts so freely, couldn't move. I wondered what expression she'd wear when enduring the humiliation I'd inflict. Just wait and see. Moreover, there are many positions in rope bondage play that expose the genital area humiliatingly. Though I'm not sure if I could go that far with Cheong Wol, just imagining it feels cathartic, like revenge. But that's where the fun ends. The rest becomes my homework. There’s much to prepare to create an SM rope. Ordinary hemp ropes are full of burrs and unsuitable for touching the skin. They're too easy to tear and crack the skin. Moreover, hemp ropes can be quite stiff, making it easy to pinch the skin while tying. Therefore, preparing SM ropes involves several necessary steps. First, boiling. I had to climb the hill behind my house to gather firewood for this. After placing the rope in boiling water, I would rinse and dry it once the water turned brown. To prevent the rope from shrinking, I attached a weight to the end while drying it. This process took about a day. Second, oiling the rope. That's where the oil I bought from the market comes into play. Instead of soaking, I applied the oil by hand, like putting lotion on, going up and down the rope meticulously. Since each rope is about 3 to 4 meters, this is quite time-consuming. Third, burning off burrs over a flame. This is the finishing touch. Even a small burr in a sock is uncomfortable for people. Since the rope can attach anywhere on the body, removing every single fuzz is essential. Once finished, the rope becomes so soft that it's hard to believe it's rope. The result of immense efforts. ...There's a reason they say that in SM, the sadist serves the masochist. It's fine, though. I'm also awaiting my reward. I'm curious. When I make Cheong Wol completely immobile, what expression will she show? Can she really stay still in front of me, legs apart? “...Hmm.” …Upon reflection though, it seems some buildup is necessary. If I suddenly tied up Cheong Wol’s body haphazardly, she wouldn't accept it. I need to set a trap somehow. **** Among masochists, many are perfectionists. It’s not uncommon for individuals in high social positions to have masochistic tendencies for this reason. For success, pain and suffering inevitably follow. And masochists endure these processes beyond necessity. That doesn't mean they don’t feel pain, though. Their obsession with perfection continuously torments them. They can't tolerate a single mistake, and no matter how high an achievement, they never praise themselves. Even when there's no fault, they feel lacking somewhere, ceaselessly whipping themselves towards an unattainable perfection. Eventually, they become the harshest torturers to themselves. Over time, their pain intensifies. The pressure squeezing them between reality and ideals steadily compresses. If they slip even a little, fear and doubt eat away at them. The despair and self-reproach of not reaching anywhere, The relentless self-criticism. It's like carrying a never-ending task for a lifetime. Only one entity can relieve this burden. A sadist. The ruler chosen by the masochist. Handing over the whip used for self-torture to the sadist. Not pursuing perfection by their own standard, but perfectly adhering to the sadist’s standard. Instead of self-judgment and self-flagellation, submitting entirely to the ruler's orders. In that process, the masochist, for the first time, lets go of themselves. The moment when pursuing perfection isn't necessary. The permission to stop piercing oneself. The liberation granted by submission brings profound shock and satisfaction that cannot be explained by sexual orgasms brought about by insertion or piston action. They are freed from the torment that eats away at them for a lifetime, with the help of a sadist. And it is at this moment of liberation that the sexual desire, repressed under the survival instinct, slowly resurfaces. . . . “...Was it like that?” I was writing a book in the basement before laying a trap for Cheong Wol. As I stepped into the world of SM, I tried to organize the swirling information in my head. Especially since there's no smartphone or readily available books here... If one lives thoughtlessly, eventually they might forget important details. It was a bit embarrassing for me, as a sadist, to be writing about such things, but avoiding it wasn’t an option either. Honestly, I'm not sure if my consolidation of these concepts is correct. SM theories are varied and unique to each individual, making it difficult to decisively deem anything right or wrong. Even so, from what I'd read in the past, this particular perspective seemed the most plausible and remained strongly in my memory. ...Yet now, it seems a bit rolling my tongue. ...Is Cheong Wol really in such a psychological state? Even though it's all theoretical, when it comes to Cheong Wol, something feels particularly off, as if the theory doesn't fit her. Perhaps it's because the thought of the horrifying image she'd show in the future... No, the terrifying sight I witnessed in the hill behind keeps haunting my mind. Can a perfectionist kill someone like that? ...It feels out of place. Or maybe she was driven to such an extent. Furthermore, there’s no person who seems less fitting for the word 'sexual desire.' Outside of killing people, she's practically a monk. I'm not even sure if she likes anyone. Thoughts tangled upon thoughts, yet answers remained elusive. Skipping over the complicated parts, I turned back to the beginning. I skimmed through various knot techniques I’d drawn, simulating in my mind whether they could truly be used. Also, by writing this book, various long-dormant play concepts resurfaced in my memory. “...Tsk.” The regret was that most of the gear needed for these resurfaced plays weren’t made of leather. Things like a ring gag that holds the mouth wide open, or a collar with a lock... all required metal. Although it’s a distant matter... I wondered if I would ever get my hands on such tools. I was curious. **** Cheong Wol took a deep breath. There was an alien scent mingling with the fragrance of the blue trees and flowers. Those with deep inner power sensed the scent first and naturally adjusted their postures. Moving in tandem with them, Cheong Wol realized once again that she was a cut above some of the disciples of the first rank. An acrid smell of herbal medicine and a heavy scent of metal wafted on the wind. The aura of poison and metal that symbolized the Tang family of Sichuan was coming. “They've arrived.” Muwolsatae whispered, and the disciples of the Emei Sect promptly adjusted their formations. As they assumed their positions, the villagers who were watching raised their voices in anticipation. Soon after, the sound of footsteps and creaking wheels of a carriage reached their ears. Green flags started to appear one by one. In the center, in bold black calligraphy, was inscribed a character. Tang (唐). ... The realization that the Tang family from Sichuan had finally arrived caused Cheong Wol to sigh. Without experiencing it, she already knew. The bothersome days ahead were inevitable. Leading the group was a tall young man. His black hair neatly tied up and secured with a red leather band. He was the second son and first child of the Tang family, Tang Jiwun (唐之雲). Upon seeing Muwolsatae, he dismounted and bowed with a fist salute. As Muwolsatae nodded, he led the horse and his group forward. Upon reaching a certain distance, even the carriage came to a halt. Several figures alighted from the carriage. Among them, both Dok Bong and Tang Solan made their appearance. Noting that she too had arrived, Cheong Wol quietly clicked her tongue. Finally, one last person exited the carriage. A middle-aged man with a mix of black and white hair, tied much like Tang Jiwun's. Although his build might seem ordinary at first glance, the aura surrounding him was anything but ordinary. His left eye was ghostly pale, and his lips were sternly set. The village residents, seeing that dangerous visage for the first time, instinctively held their breaths. In stark contrast, upon seeing Muwolsatae, this middle-aged man unexpectedly offered a gentle smile. A smile one would not expect from such a cold exterior. Veering away from the carriage, he gracefully brought his hands together and bowed softly. “With gratitude for the hospitality of the world's foremost sect, the Emei Sect, Tang Jukcheon (唐赤天) of the Tang family from Sichuan greets you alongside our household.” The Tang family members echoed the gesture, saluting with synchronized precision, creating a wave of intimidation around them. Several villagers, caught up in the moment, clapped their hands, only to awkwardly retract them soon after. Muwolsatae also returned the gesture gracefully. "You've traveled a great distance. The Emei Sect welcomes the foremost family of Sichuan." In turn, the nuns of the Emei Sect followed suit with the gesture. Only then did smiles and cheers blossom amongst the crowd, blessing the meeting of the two parties. The initially tense atmosphere gradually softened. Approaching Muwolsatae, Tang Jukcheon spoke. “Have you been well? If I may say, you seem even more beautiful.” “Your flattery appears to grow deeper with time, Master Tang.” Laughter was exchanged. Tang Jukcheon then engaged briefly with the elders, greeted So Un as the top first-rank disciple, and lastly smiled at Cheong Wol. “…Millennium Flower.” Though likely intended as praise, even that remark felt burdensome to Cheong Wol. "You've been well?" Cheong Wol blinked gracefully. “Our Solan expressed a desire to see you. I hope during this journey, you will take good care of her.” Cheong Wol paused for a moment before quietly replying. “…Yes. I will try my best.” As if on cue, Tang Solan quietly stepped forward following those words. **** “…Wow…” I hid among the crowd, observing the meeting between Cheong Wol and Tang Solan. Was this happening today? I knew that the Tang family from Sichuan would visit Mount Emei at some point. A significant event unfolds when the two meet. Cheong Wol’s inner demon becomes dangerously aggravated. I have lived all my life thinking to be cautious of Cheong Wol from this moment onward. ... Though my miscalculation was not considering she was already suffering from her inner demon before all this. Yet, one thing remains uncertain. Whether the triggering event would occur during this meeting or when the Tang family visits Mount Emei again at a later time, I couldn't be sure just yet. Please, let it not be this time. Lately, I've been getting involved with Cheong Wol! I looked back at the crowd once more. It was my first time seeing Tang Solan in person. Winner of the esteemed title of Phoenix in the prestigious Yongbong Association, a gathering of promising martial artists. In other words, the Phoenix of this era. For now, she's more remarkable than Cheong Wol, even if that changes in the future. She was neither too tall nor too short. Her figure was delicate yet well-proportioned, exuding an obvious grace even from a distance. Her skin appeared smooth and pale, likely to remain cool even under sunlight. Her black hair, faintly tinged with a greenish hue, was neatly trimmed to her nape, with the ends fluttering softly in the breeze. Her eyes were long and narrow, giving a relaxed impression, but the pupils underneath gleamed as they observed Cheong Wol. Upon seeing Cheong Wol, she offered a gentle smile, dimples appearing on both cheeks. As with many stars and co-stars of this world... She was inexplicably beautiful. The moment I had that thought, Cheong Wol suddenly looked in my direction. I instinctively bowed my head to hide from her gaze. 'Over here, Wol-ah.' That slow, gentle, and somehow enchanting voice prompted Cheong Wol to turn her attention back to her. Dok Bong was older than Cheong Wol, having been able to participate in the Yongbong Association. By the standards of the body I'd inhabited, she would be older than me too. Cheong Wol being twenty, I was roughly twenty-two, and Dok Bong was twenty-four. 'Have you been well?' Tang Solan greeted Cheong Wol with a cozy vibe typical of an eldest daughter. Yet, Cheong Wol's expression was anything but pleased—no matter how you looked at it. From afar, with cold sweat trickling down, I watched the meeting between the two. Even if I wanted to not care about martial artists, witnessing such heart-pounding confrontations directly is bound to be tense. I knew. The supporting character who Cheong Wol would chase over a hundred miles in the future to kill... was none other than Dok Bong, Tang Solan. Perhaps their sour relation was already settling in. It couldn't be helped. Both were rising stars in their respective sects, and unless they surpassed each other, they could never reach the pinnacle of the martial world. Right now, a tacit, unspoken tension was unfolding between them. ...Which is why, seeing them like this felt rather profound. I even felt an inexplicable pang of guilt toward Dok Bong. I wanted to tell her to keep her distance from Cheong Wol, but she wouldn’t heed that anyway. Observing their conversation made me increasingly uneasy. Please. Let this not be the time the incident occurs... If it is, bondage and everything, I'll just run- ‘—Wol-ah. Shall we have a spar?’ “...Ah.” ...So it is. ...The spar where Cheong Wol breaks down is happening now. ‘A spar?’ While Cheong Wol responded coldly, “...Ha...” ...I let out a deep sigh. ...Could I ever be free from the hysteria of a broken Cheong Wol?