Ling Xiya led Isayate to the edge of the large bed.
She released the leather whip in her hand.
The whip landed on the floor with a soft clack, yet it struck Isayate’s heart like a heavy hammer.
“Master,” Ling Xiya’s voice remained gentle, even carrying a hint of sweetness.
She reached out and lightly stroked Isayate’s cheek, which was trembling slightly from humiliation.
Her fingertips were ice-cold.
“Look, how wonderful it is here. No cold throne, no hypocritical submission — just the two of us.”
Isayate jerked her head to the side, avoiding the touch.
Flames of anger burned in her eyes, yet they were imprisoned by invisible shackles at this moment.
“Let me go, Ling Xiya.”
Her voice was hoarse, but it still carried an unquestionable majesty, even as that majesty was being ruthlessly trampled. “Do you think this will —”
“Will what?” Ling Xiya interrupted her, her smile turning somewhat innocent yet cruel.
“Make you fall in love with me, Master? Perhaps. But for now, I only want you to learn the most basic obedience.”
She bent down and picked up the whip from the floor, the tip of it twirling nimbly in her hand.
“Master, do you know what pets do?”
She leaned close to Isayate’s ear, her breath as sweet as orchids.
“They wag their tails, they lick their master’s hand, and they… obey their master’s every command.”
Isayate’s body stiffened instantly, a deeper sense of humiliation washing over her like a tide.
‘I, the dignified Demon King, am being asked to wag my tail and beg for mercy like a lowly pet? This is the ultimate desecration of my very existence!’
“In your dreams!”
She growled, her voice trembling from the intensity of her anger.
“Is that so?”
Ling Xiya’s smile faded, a flicker of cold disappointment flashing in her eyes.
“It seems Master still doesn’t understand. It’s fine. I will teach you, over and over, until you learn.”
—
The whip sliced through the air, carrying a sharp whistling sound before landing heavily on Isayate’s back.
It left behind a hideous red mark.
Isayate’s body jolted, not because of the pain, but because of the shame-filled shiver that accompanied it.
She clenched her teeth, an oppressed groan escaping her throat.
That sound was less a moan of agony and more like a dangerous, ignited growl.
“Kneel.”
Ling Xiya’s voice was still gentle, even carrying a hint of a smile, but that smile did not reach her eyes. T
here was only a cold command.
“Kneel before me, just like a pet.”
Isayate slowly raised her head, flames bordering on madness churning in her pupils.
“You… dare?”
Her voice was hoarse, yet it carried an unquestionable pressure.
Even in such a situation, the arrogance belonging to the Demon King had not been extinguished.
“Why wouldn’t I dare?”
Ling Xiya let out a soft chuckle as she raised the whip again.
This time, the target was the side of Isayate’s slender waist.
“Master, have you forgotten? Right now, I am the one ‘taking care’ of you. Disobedient pets need to be disciplined.”
Crack!
The whip fell, leaving another stinging mark.
Isayate’s body jolted again, but this time, instead of yielding, she suddenly took one step forward.
Her pink eyes locked onto Ling Xiya, the flames burning within them almost enough to consume a person.
“Does it… hurt?”
Isayate’s voice was low and seductive, carrying a morbid excitement.
“Ling Xiya, is this your so-called ‘taming’? With this… insignificant pain?”
Her reaction was completely beyond Ling Xiya’s expectations.
She had thought Isayate would be in pain, would beg, or would collapse, just like all the enemies she had defeated.
But she hadn’t.
Beneath that humiliated expression was a more surging desire for rebellion.
‘Wait… is it excitement?’
A hint of confusion welled up in Ling Xiya’s heart, but it was quickly overtaken by an even more morbid desire for conquest.
‘I don’t want a numb slave.
I want this once-high-and-mighty Demon King to suffer for me, yield to me, and finally… go mad for me!’
“Insignificant?”
Ling Xiya’s gaze sharpened, and the whip fell like raindrops.
Every strike carried her accumulated strength and distorted emotions.
“Then how about this? Master, tell me, how do you feel now? Is it pain, or… an itch?”
The shadows of the whip interlaced, lashing against Isayate’s back, arms, and thighs, leaving behind crisscrossing scars.
They revealed marks that quickly turned red and swollen against her pale skin.
The pain was real, sharp and dense, like countless needles pricking her.
She could feel the blood rushing faster through her veins and her heart pounding wildly in her chest, not from fear, but from a long-suppressed, nearly destructive impulse.
She looked at the flushed, crazily-eyed Ling Xiya before her.
She watched her arms trembling slightly from wielding the whip and the undisguised possessiveness in her eyes.
“Ha…”