40. Saint Teresa’s Obsession

Lu Zhengming was becoming more and more certain that ever since he returned from Beijing, everything had been improving, gradually shifting toward his ideal. Yin Yan’s attitude toward him had changed significantly, transforming from distant indifference to something warmer, more inviting, and active, yet measured just right.

More importantly, Yin Yan allowed him into his life. Not just by giving him a place to sleep at his house, but by granting him permission to make changes within it, as if Lu Zhengming were in his own home.

Lu Zhengming still had his art to focus on and couldn’t stay at Yin Yan’s place every day. Most of the time, he worked at his studio. Yin Yan often brought food when he visited and gradually filled up Lu Zhengming’s fridge. Late at night, when Lu Zhengming worked late into the small hours, there was always something convenient for him to eat.

Yin Yan also stopped keeping his whereabouts secret. He would tell Lu Zhengming if he’d be home late or if he was meeting someone. After a few times, Lu Zhengming stopped him mid-report. He appreciated this honest, open version of Yin Yan, but it wasn’t entirely necessary.

“You can keep some space for yourself.” Lu Zhengming reached out, gently ruffling Yin Yan’s hair, still damp and carrying the faint scent of shampoo.

He couldn’t resist leaning in to take another whiff, reconfirming the scent. Somehow, it always smelled better on Yin Yan than on him.

Yin Yan lay on the bed, holding himself up on all fours. The chain attached to the collar around his neck dangled low, quietly awaiting the inevitable tug.

He didn’t respond to Lu Zhengming’s comment. Instead, he lowered his head, took the end of the chain in his mouth, and offered it up to Lu Zhengming.

“I still want you to lead me.” He laid down by Lu Zhengming’s side and raised his gaze, his dark eyes glinting with something deeper. “Otherwise…”

“Otherwise what?” Lu Zhengming sensed the weight of unspoken words in that look but didn’t press. Still, Yin Yan’s honesty exceeded his expectations.

“Otherwise, I might end up like that night.”

“What night?”

Before Yin Yan could answer, Lu Zhengming already knew. There wasn’t a second night that had left such a deep impression on him. That night, Yin Yan had tormented him almost endlessly, relentlessly taking him again and again, barely giving him time to catch his breath before starting over. He had ignored Lu Zhengming’s protests, never turning on the lights, silently invading him in the dark.

Lu Zhengming could only recall that by the end, he had nothing left to give, no more release, yet the forced climaxes kept coming, draining him until he felt like his body would combust from sheer exhaustion. When he finally regained consciousness, it was already the following evening. Yin Yan had returned to his usual composed, refined demeanor, as though the fervor of the previous night had been nothing more than a fleeting spring dream.

“Fuck… you nearly killed me…”

Lu Zhengming’s cheeks burned as he spoke, embarrassed beyond words. He’d never been so thoroughly wrecked in his life.

Yin Yan, however, simply smiled, as though he’d stumbled upon something amusing. He watched as Lu Zhengming’s face turned redder and redder, which only deepened Lu Zhengming’s embarrassment. Flustered, he reached over, turned off the bedside lamp, and retaliated in his own quiet way.

He fucked Yin Yan slowly, not rough. Careful not to go too far, not wanting to stir whatever was still buried inside him. He only took what Yin Yan could give.

Afterward, as they lay in the aftermath, Lu Zhengming traced his fingers over Yin Yan’s slightly damp skin, still unsated despite their release.

“Actually… that wasn’t so bad,” he murmured.

Yin Yan gave a silent laugh, his breath warm against Lu Zhengming’s face, like a lazy caress.

“I mean it.” Lu Zhengming shifted closer, resting his head against Yin Yan’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his slowing heartbeat. “When you’re like that… it makes me feel like you really… love me.”

Yin Yan laughed aloud this time, his chest vibrating beneath Lu Zhengming’s cheek. “Sometimes, you’re as naïve as a schoolboy.”

“Why?”

“Because that doesn’t mean anything,” Yin Yan said softly, his voice teasing but calm. “It only means that I desire you.”

Lu Zhengming didn’t argue. He wasn’t surprised by the answer.

His own love and desire had always been clearly separated, never muddled. At first, all he had felt was desire. Until one night, as he lay in Yin Yan’s bed, filled with lust but wanting nothing more than to fall asleep beside him, he realized that he wanted more than just his body.

But what about Yin Yan?

Lu Zhengming could feel the change in Yin Yan, not just the growing heat of his desire but something else as well. Yin Yan was letting him in, dismantling his towering walls and allowing Lu Zhengming to occupy the depths of his hidden fortress. He was doing everything he could to welcome him, even granting him the power to take control of everything.

If this wasn’t love, then what was it? Could it be some kind of exchange, repaying the satisfaction of fleshly desires with the illusion of love?

His silence made Yin Yan sigh softly. He traced his hand along Lu Zhengming’s back, the touch gentle yet deliberate.

“I desire you… and I want to treat you better,” Yin Yan said quietly. “Those things aren’t contradictory.”

Lu Zhengming asked again, “Why?”

“So that it’s fair to you,” Yin Yan replied. “Do you remember that quote ‘Love is the finest, most cunning, and most effective tool of social oppression’? I don’t want to exploit you under the guise of love, forcing you into one-sided sacrifice.”

If that was Yin Yan’s view on love, his world was a desolate one indeed. Lu Zhengming sighed inwardly, but on the surface, he sneered.

“You think you’re that kindhearted?”

“I’m kinder than you think,” Yin Yan said with a faint smile, leaning in because Lu Zhengming’s breath was already brushing against his lips.

“You’ll have to treat me even better if you want me to believe that.”

“How?”

Lu Zhengming bit down on his lower lip, his gaze playful yet daring. “Like that night.”

Yin Yan propped himself above him, his expression turning serious, almost solemn.

“That wasn’t treating you well.”

“But I liked it,” Lu Zhengming said, his voice equally earnest. “You were real that night. Let me feel it again.”

“You can’t handle it.”

“I want it.”

Yin Yan didn’t argue further. He lowered his head and kissed Lu Zhengming with a reverence that was almost devout. Yet the kiss ended too quickly, and before Lu Zhengming could even ponder the tenderness behind it, he was swept away by a violent surge of lust.

Once again, he was stripped of control. Yin Yan bound his wrists, cuffing them to the headboard, and forced him to kneel, balancing his weight on his wrists and knees, just like he had once done to Yin Yan.

At first, Lu Zhengming just found it intriguing, assuming this was some new kind of kink. But when he leaned in for more kisses, Yin Yan remained indifferent. Normally, during their lovemaking, Yin Yan would shower him with caresses, satisfying his craving for touch and ensuring every part of him felt nothing but pleasure. This time, however, he felt something entirely different.

Pain.

No matter how much he begged, Yin Yan refused to offer even the slightest comfort. When Lu Zhengming tried to shift away, Yin Yan grabbed the back of his neck and forcefully pressed his face into the mattress.

Lu Zhengming squirmed in protest, but before he could react further, Yin Yan withdrew from inside him, and within a second, a sharp slap landed on his buttocks with a resounding crack.

The sound stunned Lu Zhengming for a moment before the burning pain registered. It seared into his skin, spreading heat deep into his flesh until his entire backside throbbed.

“Yin Yan…”

His plea was met with another slap, this time on the other side, making both cheeks burn with equal intensity.

A wave of helplessness washed over him. No matter how old you were, getting spanked was always humiliating. He couldn’t see Yin Yan’s expression behind him, only hear his heavy, labored breaths. And when Yin Yan entered him again, the throbbing soreness on his backside was layered with a fresh set of stinging slaps.

Lu Zhengming cried out, his voice carrying a hint of submission. He hated sounding so weak, but right now, he didn’t care. He just wanted Yin Yan to hear it, to soften toward him, to be a little gentler.

But Yin Yan’s cold, detached demeanor didn’t waver. His grip tightened on Lu Zhengming’s hips as he pounded into him, each thrust sending tremors through his aching backside, where the sharp sting reverberated with every movement.

Lu Zhengming gritted his teeth, enduring the pain with a strange, sacrificial mindset, as though offering himself up to Yin Yan’s fervor. He tried to let go of any hope for pleasure, but just when he was on the verge of giving in entirely, something unexpected happened.

The burning pain in his skin began to subside, replaced by a strange, tingling numbness that gradually turned into a peculiar itch. The sensation spread inward with each thrust, and to his surprise, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

In fact, it was almost… enjoyable. Like the addictive, fiery sting of eating spicy food, the discomfort carried an odd undercurrent of pleasure. Before he knew it, he was anticipating the next strike, his body betraying him as it started to crave more.

Lu Zhengming broke out in a cold sweat at the realization of his anticipation, but his body betrayed him. Each time that strange pleasure washed over him, he couldn’t help but clench his thighs tighter, the burning itch on his skin merging with the growing pleasure inside him, until his lower half trembled with overwhelming sensation.

This feeling was even more humiliating than the spanking itself, because admitting he was enjoying it would mean acknowledging that he was becoming just like Yin Yan.

He had once believed that he understood Yin Yan’s desire for pain, thinking he could empathize with it. Only now did he realize how condescending and hollow that sense of understanding had been. True empathy came only from shared experience. Only by feeling it himself could he claim to truly comprehend.

The shock of this new experience collided in his mind with the crumbling of his old beliefs. Pain and pleasure, previously so distinct, now blurred together. Lu Zhengming cried out wantonly, casting aside any concern for dignity or shame.

Images of Yin Yan’s flushed, aroused body filled his mind, contrasting sharply with his perfectly controlled, detached expression. That absurd combination of excitement and impenetrable calmness made Lu Zhengming even more desperate, driving him to the brink.

Yin Yan wasn’t concerned with his feelings, nor did he pretend to be. He used him as he pleased, completely domineering, yet brutally genuine. Only at moments like this did Yin Yan strip away his usual masks, discarding his cold facade on the bed along with the clothes. And even though that honesty came with pain, Lu Zhengming couldn’t deny the twisted comfort it gave him.

More.

Deeper.

Rawer.

Lu Zhengming looked up at Yin Yan, his gaze full of unspoken yearning. Even if Yin Yan gave him nothing in return, he felt he could willingly submit at his feet, staring up at him like this.

The thought startled him, and he tried to push it away. Yet it soon crept back, lingering in his mind. This desire was deep, buried, something he had never encountered in himself before. But he knew, with unsettling certainty, that it only existed for Yin Yan.

If this side of him was something only Yin Yan could see, then what difference did it make whether he was looking down or looking up? If this was truly what he wanted… wasn’t that all that mattered?

Discarding his pride, Lu Zhengming desperately tried to justify his feelings, twisting the pleasure into something noble, as if it were the joy of offering himself out of love. Even at the edge of release, he couldn’t stop himself from seeking affirmation.

“You only do this with me… don’t you?”

Yin Yan remained silent, driving him relentlessly toward the peak.

In the throes of climax, Lu Zhengming repeated the question, his voice trembling, distorted by pleasure. Only when Yin Yan finally answered, panting a low “Yes,” did Lu Zhengming allow himself to fully give in, surrendering to the overwhelming sensation. As if, without that answer, his release would have felt hollow, devoid of meaning.

The literature said that submissives often experienced an emotional crash after sessions like this. Yin Yan sometimes observed that effect in himself, and when it happened, Lu Zhengming always took care of him, patiently waiting until he recovered. But now that their roles were reversed, Lu Zhengming didn’t expect Yin Yan to do the same. He only hoped that Yin Yan wouldn’t leave him right away.

His body ached, and his spirit felt strangely fragile. He mocked himself for his newfound vulnerability.

Unconsciously, he curled up in the corner of the bed, pulling the blankets around him in a half-hearted attempt to find warmth. Despite his tall, solid build, the way he lay entangled in messy sheets looked oddly desolate, not at all pitiable.

Yin Yan sat quietly at the edge of the bed, his gaze as complicated as his thoughts. After watching Lu Zhengming in silence for a while, he finally lifted a corner of the blanket and slid in beside him.

Lu Zhengming tensed for a brief moment, then relaxed completely, leaning back against Yin Yan’s chest. he pulled Yin Yan’s arm around him, unabashedly seeking comfort. But that arm abruptly tightened, squeezing him so hard that he could barely breathe.

Lu Zhengming gasped in protest and let out a soft moan. Only then did Yin Yan ease his grip, releasing him just enough to let him catch his breath.

“Sorry.” Yin Yan’s voice was a little hoarse.

“What are you saying that for?” Lu Zhengming squeezed his hand gently. “I’m willing to be like this. And…”

His voice sounded a little awkward. “It’s a bit embarrassing to admit, but the way you acted… actually gave me a sense of security. At least it wasn’t just me wanting it one-sidedly, though I’ll admit your method was a bit extreme…”

“I’m sorry.”

“I hate hearing those words!” Lu Zhengming squeezed his hand hard this time, making Yin Yan suck in a breath from the pain. Feeling satisfied, Lu Zhengming softened his grip and rubbed the spot as though to soothe him.

When the conversation drifted back to where it started, his voice grew quieter again, tinged with a shy, slightly flustered undertone. “But… if you want to try doing that again, I guess it’s not entirely out of the question… Wait, don’t get excited! I’m just saying it hypothetically! I don’t like pain. I really don’t…”

Before he could protest further, Yin Yan’s arm tightened around him, locking him in place no matter how he squirmed. Yin Yan pressed a trail of deep, lingering kisses along Lu Zhengming’s shoulder, not stopping until he finally calmed down.

“Then I’ll just have to treat you even better.”