Chapter Text
Luo Binghe was never a greedy person, not in his youth atleast. He was always selfless, working for others more than he worked for himself and never had any need for personal belongings.
Part of that came from his shizun's own order. He wasn't allowed to sleep in the same area other disciples would be, he was forbidden from being allowed to shower in the same area as everyone else and shooed away from the common training grounds on orders from his shizun.
His teacher was harsher at times but lenient at others, the picture of sugar and spice. Beautiful and graceful infront of others, with his thin stature, pale skin and swirling dark eyes that make him appear as mysterious as he is. But, in reality, the thing you receive is being whipped bloody.
In the end, it was no wonder he turned out the way he did, beaten like a dog for most of his childhood and not allowed the sweet respite of relaxation.
Now, in the position he is in, stood tall and proud as the proud ruler of the three realms. No-one would dare disrespect him again.
It came with perks.
Any lady he wanted would swoon just from a glance of the man he was now. With a bountiful harem, pale ladies with their bold red lipstick and lightly blushed cheeks, cling to the arms of the demon lord. Similarly, he struck fear into anyone who dared to threaten him or his darling wives. Just the step of his boot heel clicking on the cold stone floors would usually cause any threat to grovel at his feet and beg for mercy like a conman trying to escape punishment.
Plus, he could live the lavish lifestyle he's always dreamed of. Plentiful amounts of food and sickly sweet red wine as thick as the blood in his veins ready to taste. Honestly, he'd be selfish not to indulge in the luxurious.
Though.
It wasn't enough.
It never was, despite the fact he had everything finally go the way he knew he deserved. Somewhere in Luo Binghe's mind he knew it wasn't right. Well, not exactly right, more incomplete. A puzzle missing a piece or food without seasoning.
It was his fault. It always was. It was his fault from the start, the reason Luo Binghe had turned the way he had and had a trail of bloodshed follow behind him like a cape. It wasn't on the demon's hands, it was on Shen Qingqiu's.
The man who prized himself for being chastised, pure, elegant, noble and unbreakable. Fount himself a mere mess of the person he used to be. Chained and beaten, bloody and bruised like a slave to Luo Binghe now, only used to take the stress off his shoulders.
His ribs protruding with how thin he had become in the dark, damp dungeon he resided in from the beginning of his former students' reign. Bruised face, bruised stomach, neck, ankles, face becoming thinner and hair becoming long enough to reach his ankles. I mean who would expect a hairstylist in a prisoner's quarter?
Yet he still wasn't murdered. At least that was a plus in his mind.
Shen Qingqiu spent many of his days or nights pondering why he was really kept alive. He couldn't even tell the time of day, considering there were no windows or light shining through the cracks of the stone walls.
It drove him mad.
Every day he'd be beaten unconscious or worse, stay awake to feel more pain.
So when he heard the same steps, he's heard a hundred times echoing of the cold cobbled walls, down the stairs and clicking on the floor to face him. He wanted to melt into the floor and disappear, or maybe have a heart attack and finally be greeted with the warm smiling face of Yue Qingyyuan one final time. That was a childish dream. He chuckled to himself.
Turning his attention back to the monster before him, he glared harshly at the younger man's shit eating grin.
Luo Binghe smiling was never a good sign.
And truly it wasn't. Luo Binghe's hand came down quicker then the man hunched over on his knees could react.
His fist curled, grabbing a fistful of his hair in his tight grip, black, silky locks threatening to tear away from the former peak lord's scalp from the tension.
He didn't try to fight back, it was useless. I mean he couldn't do much anyway with his legs gone.
Where his feet were, there was nothing.
The incision was jagged, it was meant to be. Luo Binghe wanted him to feel more pain as it got torn away from him by his former students' bare hands. The wound got infected instantly and the blood that seeped out crusted over to form sore scabs. He was only granted the right to have it cleaned and patched when Binghe realized he was getting no sleep from the pain. His whails and groans echoed off the stone walls in the night, making his servants unable to rest, so he was practically forced to. It was never out of guilt. Just an inconvenience.
It took him weeks to get used to it. Not like he ever got used to it, but that's besides the point!
Being dragged across stone flooring caused scrapes to form on his bare body, knees scraped like a clumsy child. It was humiliating. Shen Qingqiu didn't like being humiliated.
He was forced onto a slab of stone, face down.
Atleast he didn't have to look at his face.
Whipped, beaten, dismembered, stabbed. He could take it. Atleast he tried to. The scars on his body proved that he could.
Although...
If Yue Qingyyuan saw him, he wondered what he'd think. Would he have pity? Would he be disgusted that he gave up so easily? The mental torture was the worst.
Luo Binghe didn't even try to hide what he was doing, sporadically he'd whisper in his ear that his martial brother would be disappointed to see him like this.
Qingqiu scoffed as his head lolled off the edge of the stone slab, his arms shackled to the block like a prisoner.
He didn't want to think anymore.
𝙏𝙝𝙬𝙖𝙘𝙠
The whip cracked against his skin, blossoming with bright colors on his back and ass, red melted into purple bruises. He became a canvas for Luo Binghe to enjoy.
𝙏𝙝𝙬𝙖𝙘𝙠
Another slash on the skin.
𝙏𝙝𝙬𝙖𝙘𝙠
The hits rained down as hard as thunder.
Gasps, grunts and chokes were heard, grunts from the man behind him exerting all his energy into anger and chokes from the tears Shen Qingqiu was trying to will back.
After a while, the pain dulled into a numbing sensation. Only stinging if he dared to move.
Yet he couldn't stay still. Not under Binghe's gaze.
His hands kneading into the wounds on his shizun's back, trying to get the hisses and gasps of pain out of him. Trying to wring him dry of any sort of reaction just to satiate himself. Nails scraping against the already fresh wounds like he was itching for more, like whipping the older man till he was a trembling mess against a slab of coarse, cold stone that wasn't enough.
To the curly-haired brunette it wasn't. Not after what he went through, the torture his teacher received wasn't enough.
A brilliant idea rushed through Binghe.
A chuckle escaped his deep dark lips, smile curling into a devilish thing.
A bite to his own tongue was the only thing the boy had to do. Reaching over to lean over Qingqiu's body, chest against his back, the fresh silk of his robes rubbing against the burning wounds on the man's back emitting a hiss.
Lifting a sharp finger under the man's chin, he was met with deep emerald eyes, no light shone in them anymore, but to Binghe that was a good thing.
Even when the inside of his mouth was bleeding, blood dripping out from the corner of his mouth, the sinister smile on his face didn't waver.
His face was so close to his teachers he could practically taste his breath.
Deep red met deep emerald and the rest was just rhythm. The demon pressed their lips together hungrily.
The man beneath him jerked, biting back in his mouth, until he tasted blood.
You see, Binghe is prone to having a certain trick up his sleeve, just his blood can make someone want to rip open their skin to get rid of the million blood mites crawling in their body.
So what's more fun than beating a man while he's down?
Beating him even harder!
Binghe forced the blood down the man's throat, Shen Qingqiu lying there, gasping and wide-eyed like a deer in headlights.
It started with a warm feeling washing over his body. Then a slight itch prickling up to his thighs, around his waist and settling in his chest. Deadly close to his heart. Squeezing it like a hand was deep in his chest and caressing the beating organ.
The weight of the body above him lifted, and when he looked back in front of him it was kneeling at his eye level. Smiling. With unwavering eye contact.
He pulled at the chains keeping him secure to the stone slab, his arms felt like jelly, he just wanted to crawl into a ball, so no eyes could lay upon him again.
"Stop..."
He begged. His voice came out hoarse. He hadn't spoken in a while other than noises of pure pain, he couldn't escape pain even from a simple thing like just talking
It didn't stop, the feeling under his skin got worse, his body started to become itchy and warm, and he could feel himself getting weaker, like he was exhausted, or his brain turned to mush.
Blood was flowing into all the wrong places, not to his brain so he could think logically, but straight down south.
This seemed to make Binghe happy though.
His claw-like hand coming up to rhythmically rub in circles on the smooth landscape of his back.
It doesn't help, only elevating the feeling of heat that blanketed his body.
His dick rubbing against the cold stone, scraping the tip with little friction.
Shen Qingqiu was never one to indulge in such things as intercourse. He was above that, although there were rumors that he slept with the brothel ladies in town. Shen Qingqiu knew those were lies so he didn't bother falsifying them. In actuality, he refused every advance coming his way, like a female bird being unimpressed by a dance of courtship.
So when he assessed the situation he was in, panting and trembling from just the cool touch of a man's hand on his back and the friction of stone rubbing at his tip, he wanted to die.
It was one of the most humiliating things he's ever done. Frotting against the slab just to elevate himself.
He felt like a pre-teen boy.
"Stop it… I know what you're doing..." he gritted through his teeth.
"Hah… I don't know what you mean by that." Was what he got back.
The hand on his back drifted lower. To where his tail bone would reside, to down between his cheeks.
Shen Qingqiu flushed. Out of rage. Out of embarrassment. Maybe out of sickness aswell.
Two fingers rubbed at his opening, black nails scraping at the hole to make him jerk and twitch. It was amusing to only one person in this situation.
Binghe didn't have to do much, a minute of rubbing at the wet opening allowed it to go slack quickly, letting him slip a finger or two in just to test the opening.
Shen Qingqiu clenched his fists and bit his lower lip hard enough to make them bleed, unwilling to let Luo Binghe have his fun. It was useless. He opened like a flower, perfectly.
The demon's long fingers prodded and swirled in the warm cavern he dug them into. Seeking to find something to make the experience more enjoyable for the man layed on his stomach. Small gasps and jolts were good enough but Binghe wanted something bigger. Something to satiate the feeling he's had since he got thrown into that pit to practically hell.
"Mgh!" Shizun arched his back, legs trembling as a feeling rushed through him.
A smug look was painted on Binghe's face again.
He prodded at the particular spot he fount, again his teacher shivered and gasped. Wailing and rything, a rabbit in a wolf's jaw.
"So pretty…" Binghe murmured as he used his other hand to travel down Shen Qingqiu's spine.
Qingqiu didn't feel pretty.
Hiding his face with his arms, he was a drooling mess. Mouth hung open, black hair clung to his sweaty face and eyes glazed over. He had never felt pleasure so intense.
The blood mites didn't help, Binghe sent them straight below to make him more sensitive.
Squelching sounds echoed in the dim dungeon they both were in.
The jingling of the chains keeping him still was like a mocking melody.
It was disgusting.
It felt so good.
Shen qingqiu hated it.
He itched.
Luo Binghe loved torturing him.