The heavy velvet robe pooled around Bibi Dong's feet like a shadow, leaving her standing illuminated in the soft lamplight, clad only in the shockingly sheer crimson silk.
Song Qing froze mid-step, his breath catching in his throat.
His emerald eyes, usually calm and calculating, widened visibly. They traced the lines of the audacious outfit, lingering on the delicate bandeau that barely contained the magnificent swell of her breasts, the dusky areolas hinted at beneath the translucent fabric. His gaze dropped lower, skimming the smooth expanse of her stomach revealed by the low-slung silk, pausing where it dipped daringly low, hinting at secrets veiled only by the thinnest layer of crimson.
'She… she owns something like this?' The thought flashed through his mind, a jolt of pure astonishment. He had seen her regal, commanding, even tender and vulnerable in their private moments. But this? This was raw, unadulterated seduction, a blatant invitation whispered in silk and shadow.
He had never imagined his revered, powerful Teacher possessed such attire, let alone that she would wear it for him. Especially tonight, after he had been the one to make the request.
A slow heat began to build low in his belly, a tightening sensation that spread outwards. He felt a faint flush creep up his own neck, a reaction so unlike his usual composure that it surprised even him.
Bibi Dong watched his reaction with feline intensity, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She saw the shock flare in his emerald eyes, quickly followed by something deeper, hotter. The slight widening of his pupils, the almost imperceptible intake of breath.
'He likes it,' she thought, a thrill coursing through her, sharp and intoxicating. His surprise was exactly what she had hoped for, but the raw desire now igniting in his gaze was even better. It was validation, a powerful affirmation of her allure, especially coming from him.
A slow, knowing smile touched her lips, deliberate and seductive. She held his gaze, letting the charged silence stretch, thick with anticipation.
"Qing'er," she murmured, her voice a low, husky purr that seemed to vibrate in the air. "You seem… surprised."
Song Qing swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "Teacher…" he started, his voice slightly rough. He cleared his throat. "I… I had no idea you possessed… such garments."
'Garments?' Bibi Dong suppressed a giggle. How adorably formal he sounded, even now. It was endearing.
"There is much you do not know about your Teacher, Qing'er," she replied softly, taking a step towards him. The movement caused the sheer silk to shift, offering tantalizing glimpses. "I save these… for truly special occasions."
Her meaning was clear. Tonight was special because he had initiated it.
Song Qing felt rooted to the spot, mesmerized by her approach. The scent of her unique fragrance, mingled with the faint aroma of roses, reached him, further clouding his senses. He was usually the one in control, the one orchestrating events. But faced with this unexpected display, he felt a tremor of uncertainty, a shyness he hadn't experienced in a long time.
'She's so beautiful… so bold…' His inner thoughts were a jumble of admiration and rising lust.
Bibi Dong stopped just before him, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from her skin. She tilted her head, her rose pink eyes shimmering with amusement and affection. She saw the conflict in him – the desire warring with a residual shyness.
Gently, daringly, she reached out, her cool fingertips brushing against the back of his hand.
Song Qing flinched almost imperceptibly at the contact, the spark igniting a chain reaction up his arm.
"Don't be shy, Qing'er," Bibi Dong whispered, her voice dropping even lower, becoming intimate. She slowly interlaced her fingers with his. Her skin felt incredibly soft against his. "Tonight… is for us."
She gently tugged his hand forward. "You asked to be here," she reminded him softly, her thumb stroking his knuckles. "Did you not?"
Her touch, her words, began to erode his hesitation. The raw desire simmering beneath his shock started to bubble to the surface. Yes, he had asked. He had wanted this. He had wanted her. And she was here, offering herself in a way that surpassed anything he could have imagined.
He tightened his grip on her hand, a silent acknowledgment.
Bibi Dong smiled, a genuine, radiant smile this time, full of warmth and rising passion. Seeing his acceptance, his willingness to step forward, filled her with happiness.
She guided his hand, slowly, deliberately, towards her body. Towards the crimson silk.
Song Qing's eyes followed the path of their joined hands, his gaze locking onto the swell of her breast just above the flimsy bandeau. His heart hammered against his ribs.
Her hand gently pressed his palm against the warm, soft skin just above the silk edge.
Even through his robes, he could feel the incredible softness, the enticing warmth of her skin. It felt electric.
'So soft…' he thought, his mind clouding over.
Bibi Dong watched his face, her own breathing quickening. She saw the internal battle fade from his eyes, replaced by pure, focused desire. His emerald gaze darkened, becoming possessive.
"Touch me, Qing'er," she urged, her voice barely a whisper, thick with need. "Like you want to."
That was all the encouragement he needed. The last vestiges of his shyness evaporated like mist under a blazing sun. A smirk, confident and predatory, touched his lips. His emerald eyes gleamed.
His fingers, which had been hesitant moments ago, now moved with purpose. He didn't press against the silk itself, not yet. Instead, his thumb ghosted over the upper curve of her breast, tracing the delicate line where skin met fabric.
Bibi Dong gasped softly, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. The light, teasing touch sent shivers down her spine.
"Teacher is sensitive here?" Song Qing murmured, his voice now low and teasing, the earlier roughness gone.
"Mm…" Bibi Dong couldn't form words, merely nodding slightly, leaning into his touch.
His other hand came up, cupping her cheek gently. He tilted her face towards him, his gaze intense. "You are breathtaking, Teacher."
The compliment, delivered with such raw sincerity amidst this charged atmosphere, made Bibi Dong's heart swell. "Only for you, Qing'er," she whispered.
His hand left her cheek, sliding down the column of her throat, his fingers tracing her collarbone before settling possessively on her shoulder. His grip was firm, anchoring her.
Meanwhile, the hand on her breast grew bolder. His fingers dipped slightly, brushing against the very edge of the crimson bandeau. He felt the rapid beat of her heart beneath his palm.
He leaned closer, his lips hovering near her ear. "You planned this, didn't you?" he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. "This… welcoming attire."
A shiver traced its way down Bibi Dong's spine. "I wanted… to please my disciple," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "Since you were the one who asked so directly tonight."
"Oh, you please me, Teacher," Song Qing chuckled softly, a dark, promising sound. "More than you know."
His fingers finally moved, sliding beneath the edge of the silk bandeau. The contrast between the sheer fabric and the bare, incredibly soft skin of her breast beneath was intoxicating.
Bibi Dong inhaled sharply, her back arching slightly.
He didn't grasp or squeeze, not yet. He simply explored, his fingertips mapping the underside curve, feeling the weight, the fullness.
'Incredible...' he thought. Even knowing her figure, the reality of touching her so intimately, clad in something so revealing, was overwhelming his senses.
Bibi Dong, emboldened by his touch, brought her own hands up. She rested them lightly on his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his robes. Her fingers traced the lines of his pectorals, delighting in his strength.
"You feel tense, Qing'er," she murmured, starting to gently massage his shoulders, mimicking the soothing motions she'd used earlier in the garden, but now charged with an entirely different energy.
"Only with anticipation, Teacher," he replied, his gaze fixed on the prize beneath the silk.
His thumb brushed lightly, deliberately, over the peak of her breast, right through the sheer crimson fabric. He felt the nipple instantly harden into a tight bud against his touch.
"Ah!" Bibi Dong gasped, her eyes flying open. A jolt of pure pleasure shot through her.
Song Qing smirked, seeing her reaction. He did it again, rolling the hardened peak gently between his thumb and forefinger through the silk.
"Qing'er…" she breathed, her voice shaky.
"You like that?" he asked, his voice husky. He applied slightly more pressure, a gentle pinch.
"Mmmph… yes…" Bibi Dong whimpered, biting her lower lip. Her hands clenched slightly on his chest.
He mirrored the action on her other breast, his hand slipping under the bandeau to find the warm skin, his fingers immediately seeking out the sensitive peak. He toyed with them both, alternating light caresses with gentle pinches, watching the waves of pleasure wash over her beautiful face. Her head tilted back, her rose pink hair cascading down, exposing the long, elegant line of her neck.
'Those marks…' he noticed the faint, faded love bites near her collarbone and lower on her neck from their encounter two nights prior. A possessive urge surged through him. He wanted to mark her again, claim her anew.
He leaned down, pressing soft kisses along her jawline, then moving lower, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck.
Bibi Dong shivered, melting against him. "Qing'er…"
His lips found one of the faded marks, and he bit down gently, then harder, sucking slightly. Not enough to cause real pain, but enough to leave a fresh, vivid mark of his possession.
"Ngh…!" Bibi Dong cried out softly, a sound mixed with pain and pleasure. Her fingers dug into his robes.
He moved to the other side, marking her again. He loved seeing the contrast of the angry red marks against her pale, flawless skin. It was a primal, satisfying sight.
While his mouth was busy claiming her neck, his hands continued their relentless assault on her breasts. He squeezed them gently, marveling at their fullness and weight, his thumbs flicking mercilessly over the hardened peaks through the sheer silk.
Bibi Dong was trembling now, lost in the sensations. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps. Moans escaped her lips, soft and breathy at first, but growing louder with each new caress, each pinch, each bite.
"Ah... Qing'er... please..." she whimpered, unsure what she was even asking for, only knowing she needed more.
Seeing her losing control fueled Song Qing's own arousal. The initial shyness was a distant memory, replaced by a confident, almost ruthless desire to explore every inch of her, to push her limits, to hear her cry out his name.
His hands slid lower, leaving her aching breasts for a moment. One hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him. He could feel the slight tremor running through her body. His other hand moved to the front, fingers splayed across the smooth skin of her stomach, just above the low-slung edge of the crimson silk bottoms.
He remembered the bite marks he'd left there before. He pressed his fingers lightly against her navel, then slid them lower, teasing the edge of the fabric.
Bibi Dong gasped, her eyes widening slightly. This was more direct, more intimate than his touches so far.
"Teacher is sensitive here too?" he murmured against her neck, his hand hovering, teasing.
"Don't... tease..." Bibi Dong managed, her voice strained.
Song Qing chuckled darkly. "Oh, but I enjoy teasing you, Teacher."
His fingers dipped beneath the waistband, just a fraction, brushing against the top of the soft mound hidden beneath.
Bibi Dong cried out, a sharper sound this time, arching into his touch instinctively. "Qing'er!"
He withdrew his hand slightly, enjoying her reaction. 'So responsive,' he thought with satisfaction.
Bibi Dong, however, was reaching her limit with the teasing. Fueled by a wave of desire and perhaps a residual instinct of her usual authority, her hands moved from his chest, sliding around his neck, trying to pull his head down for a kiss, perhaps attempting to regain a semblance of control.
Song Qing saw the shift instantly. The playful challenge in her eyes, the attempt to lead. A predatory glint flashed in his emerald gaze. 'Oh no, Teacher. Not tonight.'
Tonight, he was in charge.
Before her lips could meet his, he pulled back slightly. His expression hardened, losing its playful edge, becoming stern, commanding.
"Teacher," he said, his voice low and dangerously quiet. "Are you forgetting who initiated tonight? Are you trying to take charge?"
Bibi Dong froze, surprised by his sudden shift in tone. The intensity in his eyes pinned her. She saw something new there – a dominance far stronger than he'd displayed before. A thrill, mixed with a flicker of apprehension, shot through her.
"I... I just wanted to kiss you, Qing'er," she stammered slightly, suddenly feeling like a student caught misbehaving, despite the absurdity of the situation.
"And you will," Song Qing stated firmly. "When I decide."
He released her waist, but his grip on her shoulder remained firm. His other hand moved with deliberate slowness, not towards her mouth, but towards the flimsy crimson silk covering her breasts.
His gaze locked with hers, holding her captive. Then, with a sudden, decisive movement, his fingers hooked under the center of the bandeau.
RIIIP!
The sound of tearing silk echoed in the quiet room. The delicate crimson fabric parted, revealing her magnificent breasts completely. The dusky pink areolas, already peaked and hard from his earlier attentions, were thrust into view, exquisitely vulnerable.
Bibi Dong gasped, her hands flying up instinctively to cover herself, shocked by the sudden, aggressive act.
"Ah! Qing'er! My..."
"Mine," Song Qing interrupted, his voice a low growl. His free hand shot out, grabbing her wrists gently but firmly, pulling them away, preventing her from covering herself. He held her wrists easily in one hand behind her back. "Don't hide from me, Teacher. Especially not when I tore this ridiculous scrap off for a better view."
His gaze devoured her exposed flesh. The sight was stunning. Perfect, full curves, pale skin marred only by the fresh love bites he'd just placed on her neck and the faint, older ones near the swell of her cleavage.
Bibi Dong stared back, her initial shock melting into a confusing mix of indignation and burgeoning excitement. He had just torn her carefully chosen, expensive silk attire. Yet... the way he looked at her now, possessive, dominant, utterly enthralled... it sent a forbidden thrill licking through her veins. Her nipples tightened further under his intense scrutiny, aching for his touch.
"You... you tore it," she whispered, breathless.
"It served its purpose," Song Qing replied dismissively, his eyes still feasting. "It got my attention. Now it's in the way."
His gaze flicked down to the matching crimson silk bottoms. Without releasing her wrists, he hooked the fingers of his free hand into the waistband at her hip.
RIIIP!
Another sharp tear, and the second piece of the ensemble was rent apart, falling away to pool with the discarded robe and the tattered bandeau at her feet.
Bibi Dong stood before him, completely naked, utterly exposed, her wrists held captive behind her back. She felt incredibly vulnerable, yet strangely, powerfully aroused. The cool air kissed her heated skin. This level of dominance... it was new. And terrifyingly exciting.
"Qing'er..." she breathed, her body trembling.
"Beautiful," Song Qing stated, his voice thick with appreciation. He finally released her wrists, but his dominant aura kept her rooted in place. His hands came up, cupping her face gently now, a contrast to the earlier aggression. "So beautiful, Teacher."
He leaned in, finally granting the kiss she had desired earlier, but on his terms. It wasn't soft or tender. It was deep, demanding, possessive. His tongue plundered her mouth, tasting her, claiming her.
Bibi Dong responded with equal fervor, all thoughts of resistance gone, replaced by overwhelming desire. She kissed him back desperately, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer, pressing her naked body against his clothed form. The contrast of textures – her soft skin against his robes – was maddening.
His hands roamed freely now, exploring the body he had unveiled. They slid down her back, dipping into the curve of her spine, squeezing her buttocks firmly.
One hand slid around to her stomach, fingers tracing the faint bite marks there before moving lower, teasing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.
He broke the kiss, both of them breathing heavily. Bibi Dong's lips were swollen, her eyes dazed with passion.
"Better," Song Qing murmured, his thumb brushing her kiss-swollen lower lip. "Much better without those... distractions."
Bibi Dong shivered, leaning her forehead against his chest. "You're... different tonight, Qing'er. More..."
"More what, Teacher?" he prompted, his hand returning to her backside.
"...Demanding."
"Do you not like it?" He gave her buttock a light, testing smack.
Smack!
Bibi Dong yelped in surprise, her body jolting. "Ngh!"
"Answer me, Teacher," Song Qing insisted, his voice firm.
A wave of heat rushed through her. The sting, the surprise, the underlying possessiveness... it coalesced into a potent wave of arousal. She remembered the spanking from two nights ago, but this felt different. Sharper. More deliberate.
"I... I do," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "I like it."
A slow, satisfied smile spread across Song Qing's face. "Good."
Smack!
Another swat, slightly harder this time, landed squarely on her other buttock.
"Ah! Qing'er!" Bibi Dong gasped, pressing herself tighter against him, trying to escape the sting, yet paradoxically wanting more.
"Hold still, Teacher," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. He gripped her hip, turning her slightly so her backside was more exposed.
SMACK!
Harder this time. A bright red handprint began to bloom on her pale skin.
"Mmmmph! Yes!" Bibi Dong couldn't help the moan that escaped her. The sharp sting faded quickly, replaced by a throbbing heat that spread downwards, igniting a fire between her legs. She felt herself getting wetter, her core clenching in anticipation.
SMACK! SMACK!
He delivered two more in quick succession, each resonating with a satisfying thud.
"Ah! Ah! More... Qing'er... please..." Bibi Dong begged, completely abandoning herself to the sensation, to his dominance. Her head was thrown back, her moans becoming louder, less inhibited. She loved this. Loved the sting, loved the sound, loved the feeling of his absolute control, loved knowing she was driving him to act this way. The Pope, begging her disciple for a spanking. The thought itself was wildly exciting.
Song Qing felt a surge of possessive satisfaction hearing her pleas, seeing the red marks bloom under his hand. He paused the spanking, instead running his hand possessively over the reddened, stinging flesh.
"You are mine tonight, Bibi Dong," he stated, using her name, dropping the 'Teacher' title for a moment, emphasizing his claim. His hand slid between her legs from behind, his fingers brushing against her damp folds.
Bibi Dong cried out, arching her back, grinding unconsciously against his hand. "Yes! Yours! Only yours, Qing'er!"
His fingers dipped inside her slick heat, finding her swollen clit. He rubbed it gently, eliciting a high-pitched whine from her.
"Tell me what you want, Teacher," he whispered huskily into her ear, his other hand resuming its exploration, fingers pinching a nipple, lips finding her neck again to bestow another possessive bite.
"Please... Qing'er... touch me... punish me... do anything..." she sobbed, completely overwhelmed.
While his fingers tormented her sensitive flesh, Bibi Dong, driven by an instinct to reciprocate, to worship the body of the man dominating her, slid her hands down his chest, over the hard planes of his abdomen. Her fingers fumbled slightly with the sash of his robes, then the fastenings beneath.
Song Qing allowed her actions, watching her through narrowed eyes as she pushed aside the layers of fabric, revealing his own bare chest, his sculpted muscles. She gasped softly at the sight, her eyes filled with admiration.
"So strong..." she murmured, her palms pressing flat against his pecs, her thumbs stroking his nipples.
Her gaze, however, was drawn lower as she worked on his trousers. Soon, his erection sprang free, thick and hard, pulsing with restrained power. Bibi Dong's eyes widened further, a mixture of awe and hunger in her gaze. It seemed even more imposing than she remembered from two nights ago.
"Qing'er..." she breathed.
Without waiting for permission, driven by pure instinct and desire, she sank to her knees before him, her rose pink hair pooling around her shoulders, her reddened backside still stinging pleasurably. Her eyes, filled with devotion and lust, locked onto his.
She reached out, her hand wrapping around the base of his shaft. It was hot, thick, throbbing with life. Song Qing hissed softly, his fingers momentarily stilling their torment of her body as this new, intense sensation gripped him.
Bibi Dong leaned forward, her lips parting. She pressed a soft kiss to the head of his cock, her tongue darting out to taste the bead of precum. Song Qing groaned, his hips thrusting forward instinctively.
Her mouth closed over him, slowly, reverently at first. She took as much of him as she could, her throat working, her eyes never leaving his face, watching his reaction.
Song Qing's control wavered. Her mouth was incredibly hot, her tongue skillful. He tangled his fingers in her soft pink hair, not pulling, just holding, anchoring himself as waves of pleasure washed over him. His other hand resumed its work, fingers sliding deep inside her slick channel, finding her G-spot, rubbing rhythmically.
"Ah... ah... Qing'er!" Bibi Dong moaned around him, her own pleasure spiking from his intimate touch even as she focused on pleasuring him.
The combination was electrifying. He drove his fingers faster, harder, feeling her inner walls clench around them. She took him deeper, her pace quickening, her hands busy stroking his shaft, cupping his balls.
"Teacher... ah..." Song Qing gasped, feeling the pressure build rapidly.
Bibi Dong sensed his impending climax. She wanted it, wanted to take it all, wanted to please him completely. She tried to deepen her ministrations, her mouth working tirelessly. She even tried pressing her large, full breasts against his shaft, rubbing him between them while her mouth continued its work, desperate to heighten his pleasure.
"So good... Teacher..." he gritted out, his body tensing.
His fingers inside her found her peak again, rubbing relentlessly. Bibi Dong cried out, her body convulsing around his hand as a powerful orgasm ripped through her.
Her climax seemed to trigger his own. With a guttural groan, Song Qing exploded. His hot seed flooded her mouth, spilled onto her chin, onto her bare breasts. He pulsed again and again, emptying himself completely.
Bibi Dong swallowed reflexively, accepting his offering, savoring the taste of his release, even as tremors from her own orgasm wracked her body. She didn't pull away until he was finished, slumping slightly, panting heavily.
She looked up at him, her lips slightly parted, her face flushed, eyes hazy with pleasure and smeared slightly where his climax had touched her cheek. A strand of pink hair stuck to her damp skin. She looked utterly debauched, completely enthralling.
Song Qing looked down at her, his own chest heaving. He reached down, cupping her cheek, his thumb wiping away a trace of his release from her skin.
"Good girl," he praised softly, the words sending another shiver of pleasure through her.
But even as the echoes of his orgasm faded, he felt his member, still held gently in her hand, twitch and harden again, remaining defiantly erect.
Bibi Dong's eyes widened slightly in renewed surprise and awe as she felt him growing thick and hard against her palm once more. A slow, wicked smile spread across her face.
'He's not finished,' she realized with a thrill. 'He's ready for more.'
"It seems," she purred, her voice recovering its seductive edge, "that my disciple is insatiable tonight." She squeezed him gently.
Song Qing smirked down at her kneeling form. "And my Teacher seems eager to accommodate."
He pulled her gently to her feet. The night was far from over. He lifted her easily into his arms, ignoring her small gasp of surprise, and carried her towards the large, opulent bed dominating the chamber.
He laid her down on the cool silk sheets, her naked, marked body a stark, beautiful contrast to the deep purple fabric. Her skin glowed, flushed red from the spanking, marred with fresh bite marks, glistening slightly from his release.
He stood over her for a moment, admiring his handiwork, his cock still proudly erect. Bibi Dong looked up at him, her eyes full of adoration and hungry anticipation.
The hours that followed blurred into a tapestry of sensation. Song Qing explored every inch of her body with his hands and mouth, learning her secrets, discovering new ways to elicit moans and cries of pleasure. He used his fingers expertly, bringing her to the edge time and again, sometimes pushing her over into shattering climaxes, other times pulling back, tormenting her sweetly. He used her breasts as pillows, rubbed himself against her soft thighs, listened with dark satisfaction as she begged and pleaded.
Bibi Dong, in turn, worshipped him with equal devotion. Her hands, her mouth, her body – she used everything she had to pleasure him. She straddled his lap, grinding against his erection, kissing him deeply. She lay beneath him, offering her breasts, her neck, any part of her he desired for his kisses and bites. She took him into her mouth again and again, driving him towards release, only for him to hold back or recover with astonishing speed. He climaxed again, painting her stomach and breasts, yet his erection remained, a testament to his potent vitality.
There was no sleep. No thought of stopping. They were lost in each other, in the dance of dominance and submission, pleasure and delightful torment. Bibi Dong reveled in his control, finding a deeper pleasure in surrendering to her beloved disciple than she ever had in commanding the Spirit Hall. Song Qing, fueled by her reactions, by her complete abandon, unleashed a possessive, dominant side he hadn't fully explored before, finding it incredibly satisfying.
The first pale fingers of dawn crept through the high windows, painting the room in soft hues of grey and pink, finding them still entwined on the bed. They were slick with sweat, marked, exhausted, but utterly content.
Bibi Dong lay curled against Song Qing's side, her head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His hand rested possessively on her hip, his breathing deep and even. His erection had finally softened, resting against her thigh.
She tilted her head back, looking at his handsome face, relaxed in the aftermath of their intense night. A soft, tender smile touched her lips. 'My Qing'er,' she thought, her heart overflowing with a complex mix of maternal pride, lover's passion, and devoted submission. Tonight had been... profound. Different. He had truly claimed her.
Song Qing opened his eyes, his emerald gaze meeting her rose pink one. He saw the exhaustion, the satisfaction, the deep affection mirrored there. He offered a faint, tired smile.
Neither spoke. Words weren't necessary. The shared experience, the intensity of the night, had forged a new layer onto their already complex bond.
As the sun climbed higher, bathing the room in golden light, they finally drifted off, not into sleep, but into a state of quiet repose, their bodies tangled together, the remnants of torn crimson silk forgotten on the floor, testament to a night where boundaries were shattered and desires ran wild. The Pope and her Holy Son, lost in a world of their own making, until the demands of the day inevitably called.