The air within the secluded vine enclosure was thick with unspoken tension and the scent of crushed leaves. Ah Yin stood pressed against the living wall, her naked body trembling under Song Qing's intense scrutiny and the lingering sting of his touch. His mouth left her nipple, moving with deliberate slowness to its twin, latching on with the same demanding pressure.
"Ah… Master… yes…" Ah Yin moaned, her head thrown back, fingers digging into the thick vines behind her for support. The sensation was overwhelming – not gentle, not loving, but raw, possessive, igniting a firestorm within her that eclipsed everything else.
His free hand wasn't idle. It roamed her body with impunity, squeezing her waist, digging fingers into the soft flesh of her hip, sliding down to cup her buttock firmly again. There was no tenderness, only assessment, ownership.
'This intensity…' Ah Yin's thoughts swirled, hazy with pleasure. 'Tang Hao… he was always so careful, so gentle… loving, yes… but never like this. Never this… raw power. This feeling of being utterly consumed…' She found, to her own shame and surprising delight, that she vastly preferred this. This raw, almost brutal claiming felt more real, more vital.
Song Qing lifted his head, his lips slightly moist, his emerald eyes cold and assessing as they swept over her flushed, trembling form. He saw the marks his mouth had left on her breasts, the faint redness blooming where his hand had squeezed her hip.
'Tang Hao's precious Blue Silver Empress,' Song Qing mused inwardly, a cruel satisfaction curling within him. 'The woman who sacrificed everything for him. The mother of his whelp. Reduced to this state, trembling under my touch, moaning my name.' He savored the thought. 'If only he could see her now. His beloved Ah Yin, being treated like the servant she claims to be, by the boy he tried to eliminate.' The imagined look on Tang Hao's face was almost as pleasurable as the physical sensations.
He reached down, grabbing her wrist, pulling her forward, away from the vine wall. He pushed her down firmly onto her knees on the soft mossy ground before him.
The command was unspoken but clear.
Ah Yin lowered her gaze immediately, her long blue hair curtaining her face as she leaned forward, her lips finding his rigid length with practiced, eager compliance. Shame warred with an overwhelming desire to please, to serve, to feel the unique pleasure only he seemed capable of igniting within her.
She took him into her mouth, her movements initially hesitant, perhaps comparing them subconsciously to her memories of Tang Hao, but quickly becoming more fervent, driven by the need to satisfy the man kneeling over her. She used her tongue, her lips, the heat of her mouth, pouring all her focus into the act.
"Use your hand too, Ah Yin," Song Qing commanded coolly, his voice impassive.
She obeyed instantly, her free hand closing around the base of his shaft, stroking him in rhythm with her mouth, enhancing the sensation.
Song Qing watched her, his expression unreadable. He rested one hand lightly, almost negligently, on the crown of her head, fingers threading slightly into her silky blue hair. It wasn't a caress; it was an anchor, a symbol of control. He felt the tremors running through her body, heard the soft, choked sounds she made as she focused entirely on his pleasure.
The tension built within him, a purely physical culmination. Just before the peak, he pulled back abruptly. Ah Yin looked up, startled, her eyes questioning, lips parted.
He gestured towards her own naked breasts, still flushed and marked. "There," he commanded.
Understanding dawned. Without hesitation, she guided his imminent release, cupping herself as his hot seed spilled forth, coating the upper slopes of her breasts, some trickling down towards her navel. The sight was stark, possessive.
She shivered, looking down at the evidence of his climax marking her skin.
"Clean it," Song Qing ordered, his voice leaving no room for refusal.
Ah Yin leaned forward, her tongue flicking out, diligently licking the sticky fluid from her own skin. There was no disgust, only focused obedience. To her own surprise, the taste wasn't unpleasant. It tasted of him, of power, of the overwhelming pleasure he induced.
'His essence…' she thought hazily. 'So potent… even the taste… it feels… good?'
She looked up at him when she was finished, her lips slightly moist, awaiting his next command. She noticed, with a jolt of renewed excitement, that he was already hard again, his erection seemingly unaffected by the recent release.
'He's still ready… Always ready for more… Incredible…'
He reached down, pulling her roughly to her feet. "Turn around."
She obeyed, presenting her back to him. He admired the view for a moment – the smooth curve of her spine, the flare of her hips, the full, rounded globes of her buttocks, still bearing faint red marks from earlier.
SMACK!
The sound was sharp, echoing in the green enclosure. He struck her again, harder this time.
"Ahh!" Ah Yin cried out, stumbling forward slightly, bracing her hands against the vines again.
He grabbed her hips, steadying her, before delivering several more stinging slaps, alternating cheeks. "Did I permit you to stop pleasing me, servant?" he growled, inventing a transgression to justify the act, reinforcing her position.
"N-no, Master! Forgive me!" she gasped out between blows, tears pricking her eyes – not from pain, strangely, but from the sheer intensity of the sensation. His dominance, his 'punishment,' paradoxically sent waves of heat flooding her core. 'Yes… punish me… Remind me of my place… Master…'
He stopped the slapping, instead trailing his fingers lightly over the stinging skin. Then, he leaned in, biting down sharply on the curve where her shoulder met her neck. She cried out again, a sharper sound this time, but still, underneath it, was a current of undeniable pleasure. He knew he left a deep, dark mark.
He spun her around again, pushing her back against the vines. His hands went to her breasts, no longer cupping, but pinching the nipples hard between his thumb and forefinger, rolling them roughly.
"Louder, Ah Yin," he commanded, his voice low and demanding. "I want to hear you enjoy your Master's attentions."
"Ah! Yes! Master! Please!" she moaned obediently, forcing the sounds out, though genuine pleasure made it easy. Her body writhed against the cool leaves of the vine wall. He watched her, detached yet focused, manipulating her responses, enjoying the control.
He commanded her to use her breasts again. She pressed them together earnestly, trying to create friction against his hardness, her expression focused, eager to please, even as he continued to idly torment one nipple with his free hand. He let her continue for a few moments, enjoying the visual, before pushing her hands away.
"Inefficient," he stated dismissively. "Your mouth is better suited for serving me." He pushed her to her knees again.
She went willingly, eagerly returning to the task, her earlier embarrassment replaced by a fervent desire to satisfy him, to earn more of the intense pleasure only he could provide.
While she worked, Song Qing's gaze drifted momentarily. He thought again of the future, of his plans. This indulgence with Ah Yin was… satisfying, yes. A release. A way to needle Tang Hao from afar. But it was separate from his true ambitions, his true connections.
He looked back down at Ah Yin, diligently serving him. A thought occurred, a necessary clarification.
He tilted her chin up, forcing her to stop and meet his eyes. His expression turned cold, serious.
"Listen carefully, Ah Yin," he said, his voice sharp, cutting through the haze of her arousal. She blinked, focusing, sensing the shift in his tone.
"This," he gestured between them, encompassing their illicit activity, "stays within these walls. Or wherever I decree privacy."
His eyes narrowed. "You will never display any hint of this familiarity – not a look, not a touch, not a suggestive word – in front of Ning Rongrong, Zhu Zhuqing, Qian Renxue, or even my Teacher. You will maintain your role as a respectful, deferential maidservant at all times when others are present."
He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a deadly serious whisper. "Any deviation, any hint that you presume upon our… private interactions… and I will discard you without a second thought. You will be expelled from this garden, from the Spirit Hall, cut off completely. Do you understand?"
The threat struck deep. Ah Yin's face paled dramatically. The thought of being cast out, away from him, away from the security of the Spirit Hall, away from the source of this overwhelming pleasure… it was more terrifying than any physical punishment he could inflict.
"Yes!" she gasped, nodding vigorously, genuine fear in her eyes. "Yes, Holy Son! I understand completely! I swear, I would never! Never!"
'Discarded? Cast out? No! Anything but that!' The fear was visceral.
But even in her fear, her mind latched onto a detail. Hesitantly, nervously, she asked, her voice barely audible, "But… Holy Son… does your command mean… that when it is just the two of us… alone… like this… I am permitted… perhaps… to…?" She couldn't finish the sentence, but the implication was clear – could she initiate intimacy in private?
SMACK!
Another hard slap landed on her already stinging buttock as he pulled her slightly off balance. "Impudent question!" Song Qing snapped, though his eyes held a glint of cruel amusement at her attempt to find a loophole. "I decide when your body is used. I decide how. You exist to serve my pleasure, Ah Yin. You do not initiate; you obey. Is that clear?"
"Ngh! Yes, Master!" Ah Yin cried out, but even through the sting, a wave of relief washed over her, followed by blissful acceptance. He hadn't forbidden private intimacy, only her initiating it. He still intended to use her body. That was enough. More than enough. She almost smiled through the pain, which wasn't truly pain to her anyway. "Yes! As Master commands! Forgive this servant's foolishness! As long as Master continues to enjoy this servant's body… that is my greatest happiness!"
'He will still touch me… use me… when we are alone!' The thought filled her with ecstatic joy. 'It is enough! More than enough!'
Satisfied with her absolute submission, Song Qing allowed her to return to her task. The cycle repeated. He brought himself to the edge, pulled away, climaxed onto her stomach this time, commanding her to lick it clean. She did so with reverent diligence, savoring the taste, the feeling of utter devotion.
With each act, each command, each rough touch, Ah Yin felt herself sinking deeper. The initial fear and shame were being consumed by an addictive, overwhelming pleasure and a burgeoning feeling she hesitantly identified as… love. It made no sense. He was cruel, dismissive, used her without tenderness, reminded her constantly of her subservient position. Yet, the pleasure he gave her was transcendental, addictive. And his power, his emperor-like aura from the Primordial Life Tree Spirit… it resonated with her own Blue Silver Emmpress soul in a way that felt like destiny, however twisted.
'He is rough, he is demanding… he sees me only as a tool, Tang Hao's wife to torment… but the pleasure… gods, the pleasure!' Tears streamed down her face again, but they were tears of ecstasy. 'I think… help me… I think I am falling in love with my Master…'
As she finished cleaning him again, licking the last traces from her own skin, she looked up at him, her eyes shining with adoration and desperate need. "Master," she whispered, crawling closer, pressing her cheek against his thigh. "Please… next time… inside my mouth? Please let this servant taste you fully?"
Before he could answer, she shifted again, displaying herself with startling boldness. She parted her legs slightly, revealing her cleanly shaved vulva, slick with her own arousal. "Or here, Master…" Her voice was a ragged plea. "Look… I am ready for you… I am clean for you… Please… fuck this servant… Fill me completely… Take me…"
Song Qing looked down at her desperate, blatant offer, at her exposed vulnerability. A flicker of something – surprise, perhaps disdain – crossed his features. He let out a short, sharp laugh, devoid of warmth.
"Fuck you?" he scoffed, the word dripping with contempt. He reached down, not to touch her intimately, but to tilt her chin up harshly, forcing her to meet his cold gaze. "My first time penetrating a woman, Ah Yin, will be an act of significance. It will be with someone I truly desire, someone I might even cherish. Someone worthy of that intimacy."
His eyes narrowed. "Perhaps Renxue, in time. Or even Rongrong or Zhuqing, under the right circumstances, sealing our bond completely." He paused, letting the contrast sink in. "It will not be wasted on a willing, begging slut offering herself up like common whore."
The word "slut" hung in the air, brutal and degrading.
Yet, instead of the expected reaction – tears, shame, hurt – an ecstatic, almost blindingly bright flush spread across Ah Yin's face. Her eyes widened, sparkling with a disturbing light.
"A slut…?" she breathed, the word sounding like a prayer on her lips. She pressed herself closer, rubbing her cheek against his hand like a devoted pet. "Yes, Master…" she whispered fervently, adoration shining in her gaze. "Yes! I am your slut! But I am only your slut, Master! Forever!"
She seemed to revel in the degradation, twisting his insult into a badge of ownership, a declaration of ultimate devotion. Song Qing stared down at her, a flicker of confusion entering his eyes for the first time. Her reaction was… unexpected. He didn't understand the strange wiring of her desires, the way his cruelty seemed to amplify her pleasure, her devotion. He didn't know that for the Blue Silver Empress, pain from him registered as pleasure intensified.
He pushed her away slightly, breaking the intense contact, needing a moment to process her bizarre reaction. The night was far from over, and his lust, though momentarily sated, was far from extinguished. Her unexpected response only added a new layer of perverse fascination to their twisted dynamic.