Chapter 33: Candles and Pheromones [Koeyle, 51%]…
Koeyle’s clothes were pulled off, the black straps wrapped around his thighs outlining his leg muscles, the leather pressed tightly against his flushed skin, restraining his arousal.
“You didn’t wear it when I told you to, and now you don’t take it off when I tell you to…” He Yue said, his fingertips tracing the skin chafed by the tight straps. He hooked a corner of the restraint and pulled, tightening the elastic band further.
The constricted flesh deepened, the already flushed skin turning purple from the increased blood flow, the damp black straps appearing even darker. Koeyle felt dizzy, almost falling to the ground, only managing to steady himself by grabbing the sofa.
As a colonel who had undergone long-term training, and with this being the pain he craved, the pain that kept him grounded, he gritted his teeth, his face tense, not uttering a single sound. His deep-set eyes flickered, a stark contrast to his hand gripping the sofa tightly.
Koeyle snuck a glance at He Yue’s angered eyes and quickly looked away, ashamed.
He had been with He Yue for over a month now and knew his Master’s rules and habits clearly. This time, he had knowingly disobeyed, seeking the punishment that brought him peace of mind, dispelling the emptiness and insecurity.
“Do you need to wear this to train?” He Yue asked sharply.
Koeyle suppressed a gasp, his voice halting. “Recently, I haven’t been able to concentrate during training. It… helps me, restrain myself, so I don’t get distracted… Ah!!” Before he could finish, He Yue pulled the elastic band even tighter.
Koeyle’s words made He Yue laugh, a beautiful arc forming on his lips. “A slutty dog who can’t live without his restraints.”
The vulgar words, falling on Koeyle’s ears, sent a tingling sensation through his skin. He shuddered, and the marks from the restraint deepened.
He Yue suddenly released his grip, the elastic band snapping back against Koeyle’s skin with a sharp sound.
This time, Koeyle completely lost his balance, stumbling forward, his knees buckling as he fell heavily to the ground with a thud. A suspicious blush crept up his face, his fingers white from gripping the sofa.
Still dizzy, he felt something cold and metallic against his burning skin.
Sharp scissors snipped the taut restraint, the feeling of constriction instantly disappearing, replaced by a lingering stinging sensation on the chafed skin.
He Yue’s earlier action of tightening the straps had heightened his arousal, the purple-red marks still throbbing.
He Yue kicked him, making him lose his balance and fall to the side, curling up on the floor. The kick didn’t diminish his arousal; on the contrary, the pain only intensified the emptiness within him.
Both He Yue, the experienced animal trainer, and Koeyle himself, knew what he wanted.
Whether it was excruciating pain or gentle comfort, anything that could quell the unbearable itching was welcome.
Koeyle got up from the floor, knelt down, and kissed the tip of the shoe that had just kicked him. For him now, even the rough sole of the shoe was a great blessing.
He had broken the rules yesterday, provoked by He Yue’s words, but touching himself in places forbidden by his Master hadn’t brought the expected thrill of transgression, instead only heightening his desire, leaving him suspended in a state of unfulfilled longing.
After a sleepless night, he was completely lost.
He Yue kicked him again, his voice icy cold. “Get lost, stop being a horny dog here.”
“Master?” Koeyle didn’t receive the desired response. He looked up, his red and swollen eyes filled with confusion and fear. He remained kneeling, his gaze traveling from He Yue’s feet up to his face.
He Yue’s expression was as calm and cold as his eyes.
Koeyle’s heart sank, the lingering sensations fading slightly.
Clever as he was, though he didn’t know the reason, he knew He Yue wasn’t in the mood to be with him now, nor was he interested in punishing him for his disobedience. He hadn’t achieved his desired outcome of being severely punished by He Yue.
This was more terrifying than He Yue flying into a rage, stripping him of all sense of security.
Koeyle pursed his lips, forcing his voice to sound steady. “Master, I’m sorry.”
“Put on your clothes and get to training. I’ll deal with you when you get back tonight.” He Yue threw his uniform jacket over his head.
Koeyle carefully observed his expression, putting on the jacket and tucking his shirt back into his pants. He buttoned his jacket meticulously, from top to bottom.
His face was still unnaturally red, his eyes swollen, but the uniform made him look like the stern, composed, and dignified colonel once again.
The uniform concealed his wanton nature.
He desperately wanted to be dragged away and punished by He Yue, but he could only suppress this desire, obediently following He Yue’s orders.
Like a desperate, unfulfilled stray dog.
He wasn’t wearing anything now, neither the iron ball, the bamboo node, nor the restraint belt that He Yue had cut off. The feeling of emptiness was unbearable, making his heart ache.
The words “I’ll deal with you when you get back tonight” became a luxurious thought, fueling his imagination and making the wait even more agonizing.
He left under He Yue’s gaze, stepping out into the falling snow.
He Yue closed the door, his finger resting on his lips, his chest still heaving from the lingering anger, the slightly longer strands of hair covering part of his forehead, making his contemplative expression both dangerous and alluring.
Had he made a mistake in his training of Koeyle?
His finger pressed against his soft lips, unconsciously tapping as he thought.
Thankfully, the sight of the unfulfilled dog, dressed in his contrasting uniform, pleading for punishment, was quite pleasing, arousing his interest. He rotated his wrist, his other hand massaging each knuckle.
He was curious how that needy appearance, after being left hanging for a day, would ferment and serve his pleasure.
Inspired, He Yue set up the long-neglected easel and began sketching on the canvas with a pencil. The pencil twirled between his fingertips, his strokes casual and free, making a pleasant sound against the paper. The canvas swayed slightly with each stroke.
With just a few lines, he outlined a figure on the canvas.
He Yue stepped back, examining his sketch from a distance. The pencil rested on his chin, the gray graphite staining his hand and smudging onto his face.
He was so engrossed that the doorbell, which had been ringing for a long time downstairs, was completely blocked by the soundproof studio, not disturbing his work at all.
In the snowy weather, the nights grew longer and longer. The light in the room gradually dimmed, but He Yue didn’t turn on the lights.
The candles he had bought from the young female insect were scattered on the candle holders, the burning wicks supporting the oval-shaped orange flames, casting a warm glow. The light, pleasant fragrance filled the studio, calming and refreshing.
Melted wax pooled around the candles of various shapes, reflecting the color of the flames.
He Yue’s fingertip hovered above the melted wax, the burning heat instantly reaching his skin.
This was the normal temperature of a candle. That poor little female insect definitely couldn’t afford expensive low-temperature candle materials. Candles made from this kind of material had a melting point of at least one hundred degrees Celsius.
A human would be severely burned, but Koeyle…
He Yue smiled, the candlelight flickering in his bright eyes. His fingertip traced the uneven petals of the wax rose, some small particles sticking to his skin.
A toy that couldn’t be broken, he could play with him even more freely than at Castle.
When Koeyle entered the dimly lit studio, He Yue was sitting on a high stool, raising his hand to place a rose-shaped aromatherapy candle on the highest candle holder.
His shadow stretched long under the candlelight, the outline of his backlit profile clear, the line of his high nose prominent. Strands of hair fell across his eyelashes, trembling with each blink.
Like a beautiful oil painting, or a god holding a candle. In the quiet space, the occasional crackle of the candle flames accompanied He Yue’s every move, his actions elegant and graceful, making one instinctively reluctant to disturb him.
Koeyle, who had been suppressing his desires all day, couldn’t help but raise his head, just standing at the door, gazing at He Yue’s profile. He swallowed, his breathing quickening.
Unable to contain his excitement, he knew tonight would be an excruciating night, but he didn’t feel any fear, only excitement and anticipation. Waiting for this moment, enduring the entire day, had almost exhausted his willpower.
Koeyle feigned composure, taking a few silent deep breaths, trying to slow his racing heart. He quietly walked into the studio and closed the door behind him.
“Master, this is yours…”
He Yue placed his index finger on his lips, signaling him to be quiet. He took the cardboard box from Koeyle’s hand and ripped off the gaudy bow.
The box had been left by the door for too long, the melted snow dampening its corners. Inside, several exquisitely carved metal rings lay nestled together, of varying sizes, their polished surfaces reflecting the candlelight.
He Yue fiddled with the rings and the thin metal chains that connected them, admiring the exquisite craftsmanship. The clinking of the chains and rings against each other was clearly audible in the quiet room.
The tranquil atmosphere had a strange warmth, seemingly unsuitable for noisy tools like whips. Koeyle had never seen He Yue like this and couldn’t guess his thoughts. He walked to the high stool, undressed as usual, and knelt down.
Looking straight ahead, his gaze fell on the studio walls.
The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow on the bone whip hanging on the wall, making the terrifying spikes seem less menacing.
He Yue didn’t pay attention to him, focusing on examining the newly received handcrafted items. Driven by curiosity, he took out a few rings and the thin metal chains, woven or welded together, examining the engravings under the candlelight.
Master didn’t speak, and Koeyle didn’t dare to move. He knelt quietly at his feet, a mixture of anxiety and intense anticipation in his heart. The stinging pain in his knees gradually intensified. Without a clock, Koeyle didn’t know how long he had been kneeling. He saw that the rose-shaped aromatherapy candles on the candle holder beside He Yue had burned down, forming small pits.
The fragrance in the studio intensified. Though not a pheromone-based scent, Koeyle, naked, felt the heat from the burning candles intensely.
At some point, He Yue took out a long black cloth strip and blindfolded Koeyle, wrapping it around his head several times before tying it tightly at the back.
Darkness enveloped him, and he could see nothing, only the afterimage of the candlelight lingering for a moment. The loss of sight amplified his other senses: the intoxicating fragrance of the aromatherapy and the almost numbing pain in his knees.
When the melted wax dripped onto Koeyle’s face, the burning heat instantly seared his skin, igniting his nerve endings. He could feel the wax trickling down his cheeks like tears, then quickly solidifying.
Koeyle couldn’t help but groan, breaking the silence of the room. The pain made him unable to open his eyes, and he endured the dripping wax in the darkness.
Unable to look around, and with the quietness of the room, all his attention was focused on his face. He hadn’t felt so focused in a long time, as if everything else was shut out by the darkness, only the burning pain on his face highlighted in his sensory system.
His focus, usually scattered during high-pressure training, was now concentrated entirely on his face.
He Yue didn’t say a word, nor did he make a sound.
He held a blood-red rose candle, tilting it to pour the melted wax from the wick. The flickering candlelight cast a warm orange glow, like a small sun in his hand.
The female colonel trembled slightly from the hot wax, but his erection, at He Yue’s feet, rose silently.
He Yue switched to another black candle, pouring the melted black wax onto Koeyle’s most vulnerable spot.
“Ahh…!”
Koeyle’s forehead veins bulged, his teeth clenched, as he instinctively raised his chin, gasping for breath. The pain, mixed with intense pleasure, surged through him, spreading from that one spot to every corner of his body. He didn’t weaken from the intense stimulation, but instead arched his back further, his erection throbbing.
The swelling pain gradually turned into a burning numbness, the solidified wax forming a translucent seal, completely blocking the exit.
One of his hands, still tied behind his back, gripped his other wrist, but even if he squeezed until his wrist almost broke, it couldn’t compare to even a fraction of the pleasure before him.
The solidified wax slowly cooled, but the lingering heat remained.
Tears welled up in his eyes, partly from a purely physiological response, partly from the physical and mental satisfaction.
This was the pain he craved, the pain he yearned for.
The only flaw was that after the heat slowly dissipated, it wasn’t enough.
The black wax dripped mercilessly onto his body, his cheeks, his neck… Layers of wax solidified, dark red, black, forming different layers, a three-dimensional masterpiece before him.
Blindfolded, he couldn’t see He Yue’s movements, didn’t know where the hand holding the candle would hover, or where the wax would drip next. The pauses between each drip seemed longer, giving him enough time to process the momentary pain, lifting him high before slowly letting him fall.
The unknown wait made him anxious.
His threshold had been raised so high that he was no longer satisfied with the burning pain, like a starving person tasting a bit of sweetness, the previously suppressed hunger now fully awakened.
Koeyle tried to speak several times during the wait, but thankfully, his moans came first, and he didn’t utter any words of plea.
The wax solidified, sticking to his skin, clinging to the flushed flesh.
He heard footsteps, heard He Yue walking around him, from the front to behind him.
…
The female insect’s distorted cries echoed through the room. He leaned forward, his shoulders almost touching the ground, his body almost folded in half.
He trembled violently, the pain clouding his consciousness, his ragged breathing mixed with choked sobs, his chest heaving.
He Yue put down the almost burned-out rose candle and sat back down on the high stool, admiring his latest creation.
The wait felt even longer now, the only sound in the studio Koeyle’s heavy, ragged breathing. He waited, shifting his knees impatiently.
Blindfolded and waiting in silence, Koeyle couldn’t even be sure if He Yue was still there, still watching him, or if he had already left him alone in the quiet studio.
He felt a pang of fear.
“…Master?” Koeyle called out tentatively, his voice barely a whisper.
No response. The studio was silent.
“Master… are you, are you still there?”
“…”
He Yue sat on the high stool, arms crossed, one leg propped up on the stool’s rung. He looked down at the female insect, sinking into the shameful pleasure while simultaneously being stripped of his sense of security.
He wanted to control not just his body, but also his fragile heart, which he had already toyed with.
“Master… cough… Master…”
Koeyle panicked slightly, shifting his knees, his eyes, covered by the black cloth, looking straight ahead, unable to see anything through the opaque fabric.
His muddled consciousness felt like a dream, and he absurdly felt like he had entered another dimension. Countless impossible scenarios flashed through his mind: being abandoned in the studio without warning, waiting endlessly, or having countless other insects intruding into this space he had thought belonged only to him and his Master.
The more absurd his imagination became, the more unstable his mental anchor.
“Master… can you, can you say something? Please… or, hit me… are you still there?”
His voice grew weaker, fear and desire intertwining, pulling him in opposite directions.
But there was still no response.
The only scent in the air was the rose fragrance, gradually clouding his judgment. He took deep breaths, trying to detect any other scent.
He wanted to smell He Yue’s pheromones.
He wanted to smell the scent he had once loathed, rejected, even hated, the scent of male insect pheromones, to prove that He Yue was still there, still watching him.
But there was still nothing, not a trace.
He Yue always controlled his pheromones perfectly, even after transmigrating, for reasons Koeyle couldn’t comprehend. From the first day he met Koeyle, He Yue had never released his pheromones.
“Master… please, just a word… anything…”
He wasn’t begging He Yue to ease his punishment, only for proof that He Yue was still there.
Even when his skin was being flayed under the whip, he could find a sense of security and satisfaction in He Yue’s gentle, tolerant gaze. Back then, he wouldn’t be tormented by fear, only enjoying a feast exclusive to him and his Master.
Having experienced that feeling, he now yearned for it.
Still no sound. He Yue watched his struggle with amusement, his suffering like that of an ant. He knew his plan had worked, and it had worked perfectly.
Tears dampened the black cloth, clinging to Koeyle’s eyes.
“Master…”
His voice was urgent and weak. Even without He Yue’s permission to move, he couldn’t help himself, releasing his hands from behind his back and trying to tear off the blindfold.
Before he could lift a corner of the black cloth, He Yue quickly grabbed the loose end behind his head and yanked it hard.
Koeyle was forced to raise his chin, his neck stretched to its limit, his eyes aching from the pressure of the cloth. He flailed blindly, grabbing He Yue’s wrist.
“What are you doing? Who told you to move?”
[Koeyle, 51%.]
Just as the system’s prompt rang out, He Yue saw the female insect before him breathe a heavy sigh of relief, a tear dripping from the bottom of the soaked black cloth, sliding across his cheek, over the smooth, solidified wax.
Along with it, a satisfied smile.
“…Master,” his voice trembled, filled with deep emotion. “I want to, look at you… can you allow me to see you?” He gripped He Yue’s wrist tightly, even through the black cloth.
“No.”
He Yue released his hand and turned to pick up a candle from the candle holder, his other wrist still held tightly by Koeyle, like a lifeline.
As if letting go would make him lose all connection to He Yue’s presence in the darkness.
He Yue held the candle in his hand, bringing the burning tip close to Koeyle’s chin, the heat scorching his skin.
It was hot, incredibly hot, the outer flame reaching several hundred degrees, easily burning his skin.
But He Yue didn’t move, and neither did Koeyle.
Koeyle’s hands gripped He Yue’s other wrist, not flinching even as he was burned. The female colonel’s physique, far superior to that of humans, and even most other female insects, was on full display.
“Why don’t you move away?” He Yue asked.
The hands gripping his wrist twitched slightly, then tightened their hold.
“If just a burn allows me to hold your wrist in the darkness, I think, it’s worth it.”
