The Lewd Rituals of a Typical Day // Our Precious #6
The Lewd Rituals of a Typical Day. (Our precious #6)
M.list | Previous | Next
Pairing: main - Park Seonghwa x Reader. Side - Reader x Jeong Yunho, Reader x Kang Yeosang
Warning (for all parts): smut, hardcore smut, soft dom!seonghwa, dom!yunho, dom master!yeosang, sub!reader/slave!reader, breast stimulation, teasing, biting and marking, DD/LG, seonghwa has a feeding kink (does not overlap with fat fetish), praise kink, food play, unprotected sex, fingering, cock warming, thigh riding, nipple play, bits of master-slave dynamic, rough sex, manhandling, cum play/cum shot, dirty talk/degradation (just know yunho has a filthy mouth), size training (vaginal), etc.
Note: do not proceed if you're uncomfortable or triggered by any aforementioned tags. Not proofread.
Gist: it's the weekend and you finally get the time to spend it with your so called "boyfriends".
Total Word Count: n/a
Taglist: @t3kandson @therealcuppicake @sebastianswhore13 @solisyeah
[a/n:] thank you so much for 190+ followers. really appreciate it.
Part Two [6.2]: Down on My Knees - Kang Yeosang x Reader
Warning: master/slave dynamic, slave!reader, master!yeosang, wax play, use of Ben wa balls/kegel balls, use of ropes, rope bondage (hojojutsu tie), deep-throat/throat fucking/blowjob, cunnilingus, etc.
Song rec: Drip by Black Atlass
Gist: Yeosang gives you a glimpse of his eccentric kink. Let’s say, he’s one intimidating man behind all the innocent facade he puts on.
Word Count: 11,122
How did you end up in this position? Kneeling in front of him, arms bound with a thick rope and held behind your back, and the seemingly innocent ruse he paints on; in his make-believe world, you're supposed to be looked down upon, and he's supposed to have the higher ground to assert his dominance. He wasn't fooling anyone with his charming demeanor, and you indeed hadn't been fooled by his undisturbed personification. Who knew, Yeosang would be one of the wild ones, the kind who are quiet and gentle, who speak less and listen to others talk, the ones who make their opponent believe they know everything about them when in reality they know nothing about them.
The two of you were trapped in a trance of silence, both taking up the empty space adjacent to the bed. A little further into his room, you and Yeosang were both busy with your own things; he eyed you like a predator would eye his prey, and somehow, it seemed to arouse your worst tendencies. A strain in your forearm aches against your posture, making you curl your back into your stomach, and the hemp rope bites into your skin, creating irritated scratches; Yeosang's tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth the moment he hears you whimper. You hold onto a breath of yours, until it's forcing its way out to blend in with the dense air of this room. The dread follows you, lurking in your mind; you could sketch out a rough outline of Yeosang's mind, of his needs. He needs control. He likes it a little too much. Which would explain why you were kneeling in front of him, with your arms shackled in some rope to restrict any movement of your body.
"Did I tell you to stop?" he growls, sighing a minute later, "from the top, again."
You groan, voicing your frustration, "I promise, I'll be good next time. Just let me continue. We've been over this for the longest time, I'm tired."
"Rules are rules, kitten." He rasps, lowering his voice down a baritone, "now, from the start. As I said before."
Exasperated, you straighten up and stare up at him. There he sat on a metal chair, hungry eyes trained on every movement of your body. He sits poised and stoic, putting most of his weight to the side as his elbow which rests on knee. His legs are crossed over one another, and he subtly keeps brushing his fingers under his chin as if he were to be in some deep ponder about life. For a man to be this ethereal, was a crime. And you wouldn't base your judgment on the fact that he was a man, but rather on how meagre his efforts were to delineate his grace. How can a man wearing a simple tank top and jogger shorts, appear this elegant?
Yeosang's lips curve into a silken smirk, almost like a trace of smugness caressing his face before stranding his mien with an unbearable hint of thirst. His soft brown eyes yearn for a taste, for a quick nibble of your bare chest which was on a hankering display. When his silence murmurs louder in your ear, you take a deep breath and scatter your attention across the floor; there laid sheets of black print, words etched in a continuum. Back to the first page, to the very beginning. You had read through the first page ten minutes before. There goes your ten minutes of hard work and patience.
This was a tortuous nightmare which seems to be never ending, a situation having you kept astray in a void of fear and anticipation, tickling every being of your flesh and bones. It doesn't matter how dedicated you are to him, he will find a way for you to lose, for you to give in to your ailing state of mind. So far, he had succeeded in making you feel small, belittled your presence.
Time stands still in this room; all air is knocked from your lungs when proceed to enunciate the first few words on the first page.
"We the undersigned parties, recognise and accept the submission of Moon Angel, hereafter called the 'slave' to Kang Yeosang, hereafter referred to as the 'Master', in a relationship of," you trail away, almost losing your voice, "relationship of voluntary servitude hereafter called 'slavery'."
In this blighted state of affairs, you're in a constant dilemma, whether you should've read and signed the contract beforehand, or not. To your better understanding, it would have been hundred times better if you had just taken out the time to read and sign the contract before. All this humiliation would've been avoided.
"Go on," Yeosang nudges you with a husky undertone laced to his words, "we've got a lot to deal with here, kitten."
Shaking your head, you swallow thickly to wet your sore throat before continuing, "by this instrument, Master agrees to direct, train and dominate, the Slave for Master's pleasure and benefit."
Why were you aroused by this? You'd hate to admit it, but you were soaking wet from reading this so-called contract, by picturing the words jumble up on a pretty risqué imagery in your mind. In an attempt to alleviate the strain in between your thighs, you squeeze them, quite tightly for your cunt to rub against your flesh. Yeosang doesn't let your venture go unnoticed by him; rather, his lips lilt into a haughty smirk, playing the descant game of tease in his head.
Regardless, you press your lips together and mumble, "the slave's tenure will begin on the day of signing this agreement and end on the last day of the twelfth month after the day of signing. A review will take place every three months."
"Do you have any doubts till now? Perhaps, some questions which have been troubling your mind?" he asks, relaxing back into the chair and spreading his legs wide.
"Not really." You respond; however you couldn't resist peeking at his cock when he spread out his legs like that.
You catch the glimpse of his erection protruding through the flimsy material of his shorts; gauging by the outline, you could tell he had an impressive size. Which doesn't really seem to be one of your biggest concerns at the moment. You should be instead, worried about what the future holds for you. It was easy to shrug off every possible leeriness you faced, up until he had asked you to fetch the contract from your room and meet him in his own.
Things went south. Quite quickly. Everything was a blur of moment, seconds dragging to something lesser than them, seizing to nothingness as time paralleled to nix. You entered his room, the dimly lit abyss of ambiguity and confusion; a queen-sized bed in the centre, draped in red silk sheets, and the curtains to the window stayed drawn together to filter out any natural light seeping in. His room was dark, and devoid of any unnecessary things. Even more peculiar, his room did not allow any sounds from the outside to saunter in and vice versa.
The entire aesthetic of his room was an enigma, an elaborate conundrum which would put anyone in a bewildering position. A desk remained shrouded in the dark by a corner, and two separate closets were bound to a side of the wall; one of them was locked with a silver padlock, and it also harboured quite a few intricate pieces of cravings in the wood. The other closet was basic, laminated with a much basic plywood. There was a door situated to the left side of the bed, presumably the bathroom, and to the right of the bed, was where the closets, and desk were located.
After spending the first few hours of the morning with Seonghwa, you were dragged by Yeosang to his room; on the way to his room, by the stairs, you came across Wooyoung who had then groggily greeted you before turning a side eye toward Yeosang. That, somehow, itched Yeosang in a wrong way and awoken something feral in him. He wrapped his hand around your waist and pulled you with him, not caring if you fumbled in your steps or were even capable of keeping up with his pace. First, he pushed you in your room, asked you (in a growl) to get the contract he had given to you and then he dragged you into his room. When the locks behind you clicked, your heart dropped to your gut.
Yeosang's sheer strength was enough to turn you on, enough for your cunt to start dripping at the thought of the other things he was capable of doing to you. He could easily manhandle you, throw you around like a puppet and bend you to his words. Inspecting your body then, he walked around you in circles, until he got too riled up to contain himself. He had ripped your shirt off your body, technically speaking, Jongho's shirt, and now it laid strewn on the floor in tattered pieces.
Many more things unfolded after that, he asked you sink down on your knees, he got himself a red-coloured hemp rope to tie your arms behind your back, and then he dragged a spare chair over in front of you and slid himself onto it. He sprawled the contract papers on the floor, for you to read through them, loud and clear.
And so here you are. In a probable dehumanising position.
"Your restraints aren't too tight, are they?"
"No..." your lips quiver, arms struggling in the hold.
They weren't tight or as uncomfortable as you thought they'd be; though, the rope was biting into your skin and chafing it every time you moved only as to little. You were quite astounded by Yeosang's preferences, and how he dabbled in the art of Japanese bondage called shibari. There's something about him you couldn't place your finger on yet. Regardless, the moment he started looping the rope around your arms and your back, you were crumpled down to pieces.
To Yeosang's eyes, you were a treat. He pities you for not being able to see how luscious you looked with the red ties scattered on your back, and around your chest; the rope did in fact loop around your forearms and crossed at the back, it formed an intricate pattern of a star with how it was tied. And in the front, it ran parallel to your chest, the rope running under and over your tits. Nothing could've stopped him from drooling at the sight of you; you on your knees, half naked and body shuddering ever so lightly every time he glared at you.
"The slave must reveal all appropriate thoughts, feelings and desires relating to servitude without hesitation or embarrassment," he states, clear and firm, "I'm going to ask you again. Are your restraints uncomfortable?"
"No," you reply, confidently.
"As a slave, what must you refer to me as?" he poses another question, still sounding resolute somehow.
"Master."
"That's my girl," he praises you, a smile breaking out on his face before he leans over to whisper, "I did not tell you to stop reading. Please, carry on. My patience is running out."
You take a breath of relief, knowing he hadn't tormented half of your being by forcing you to read everything from the start. But you were also transfixed by his words, by his presence. Gulping down the lump in your throat, you clear your head and proceed to read further on.
"This voluntary servitude may be renewed at the Master's discretion with the slave's consent." you take another breath in, and continue, "It is agreed that this period of slavery will be under the Master's direction and control and will be subject to the following conditions."
Yeosang hums along with you, "let us keep those conditions to ourselves. Why don't you read them in your mind and let me know if you have any concerns regarding them."
You take his suggestion well, spanning your eyes across the printed letters and comprehending them in your mind. As the time passes, the restraints start tugging you down; it was overbearing to hold the straight posture for all this time. Your arms had started to ache as well, going sore from having no freedom to move them around. However, you still held it in, held on the very little of your patience and dedication to get through this.
Reading the conditions, you could tell he curated his preferences perfectly on the paper. The conditions stated were beneficial to both parties; most importantly, they took the slave's gratification into consideration.
"Is everything understood so far?" he murmurs, peeking at you.
You raise your head and nod, "yeah. I think I got the gist of it."
Yeosang hums again, but his jaw clenches slightly and your gut knots itself, "I meant, yes master."
He smirks, "good. You're getting the hang of it." Tracing his thumb under his lower lip, he pulls himself off the chair and takes a few steps closer to you. He crouches down, his aura buzzing around with a certain heaviness, "I want to punish you for not obeying me. I had asked you way well in advance to read through this contract, hadn't I?"
"I'm—I'm sorry, I know should've done it—"
"—don't waste your energy on apologies, kitten. The time's gone."
His fingers pinch your chin and tilt your head further up, forcing you to meet his eyes; the dark, sullen, dour eyes of his show no emotions, not until a spark of lust and carnality breaks out. You gulp, audibly, squirming your thighs together to ease the tension between them. Beyond hope, you knew you had soaked through your shorts, you were sure Seonghwa's cum had slicked out all the way through along with your own arousal.
Dense air in the room leaves you to suffocate on your spit, while his lips caress the tip of your nose and drag along your cupid's bow. He presses a soft kiss against your lips, mumbling them in a haze of sheer want and need. When he pulls back, he adorns a scornful smile on his face, tugging his cheeks softly into his eyes.
"Get on your feet for me." He drags his words to a whisper, "now."
The authoritative tone flips a switch in you, turning your rationality off and switching on your submissive mind. He straightens up and takes a step back, watching your helpless-self struggle to get on your feet. You stumble while trying to bring yourself up from your knees, and the way your arms were shackled behind you, it seemed almost impossible.
Yeosang extended no hand for help, he quite enjoyed the show you had put on for him; a belittling chuckle is trapped in his chest, while his arms are folded over. He waits a beat, for a second to cross the threshold of your clumsiness before he leaps in and helps you up; there it was, his warm hands bracing against your waist, pulling you up on your feet and stabling your wobbly stature.
"Come here," he holds one of your arms and guides you to the chair; the contract sheets lay untouched on the floor, starting to flutter to the winds brought in by the ceiling fan. "Stay still, hmm?" he murmurs from behind you, his warmth painting an untamed desire on your back.
You nod, whispering, "okay."
Before you could voice your other concerns, his presence dithers away. Listening to some shuffles around in the room, you turn your head to find him unlocking the closet which had intrigued you before, the same closet with a silver padlock and intricate carvings on its wooden panels. The doors creak softly at the hinges when he opens them. Amid the pointless dark and silence, you observe him, noticing a soft glint of something metallic in his hands. You were unaware of what he had retrieved from the closet; bewildered, you continue to stare at him as he grabs a couple more pieces from the closet. Stricken by a haze of wonder and despair, you whimper under your breath. Tremors brush your skin, trickling your flesh with an ecstatic desire.
You press your lips together, preventing your needy groans from slipping past your lips; his footsteps ascend to you, while an object rattling in his hand. He stands in front of you now, fixing himself behind the chair to dump the things he was holding in his hands. As he is steadying himself back, you catch a glimpse of his smirk fleeting on his plump lips. When he straightens himself, you notice the objects spread on the chair.
A candle. A pair of what seems like, silver balls, alongside a small capsule-shaped button or something. And a silver plated lighter having a butterfly engraved on it.
A quick flick of lighter turns the flame on, he proceeds to light the candle; the wick burns with vigour, providing to the subtle morning light which had already begun to fade in from the window regardless of the curtains being drawn together. He sets the lit candle on the small desk, located next to his bed, right behind him. You must've failed to notice this one before, not that it matters now because you're too fixated on him, on his actions and what he tends to do with you.
"Ever seen this?" he muses, picking up the silver balls in his fingers.
Letting them dangle from his forefinger, he shows it off to you. It was your first time coming across them. The two marble sized balls were a half an inch apart from each other connected with a fine chain link; they appeared small and delicate.
"No," you mumble, "what are those?"
"Rin-no-tama," he pronounces it in a perfect harmony, and shrugs, staring down at the shimmering spheres hanging from his finger, "or orgasm balls." His eyes meet yours, "don't worry, they only create subtle stimulation. It's more of a teasing device than anything intense."
He strings out his words so casually, lips quivering with a vague smile. Taking a long stride around the chair, he comes to stand behind you; the balls clatter gently against his hand when he holds them by the long tail of chain adhered to the one of them. Your mind is a complete mush at this point, overridden with enthusiasm and anticipation. One of Yeosang's arms comes to tangle around your waist, while the other sneaks up your back and comes into your view. Right in front of your face, he holds the two orbs, their chrome shade alluring and intriguing.
"Open up," he whispers, nudging the balls closer to your lips, and pushing them till you're willingly opening your mouth. "Good kitten."
You moan at the praise; however, it's muffled by the tiny little spheres in your mouth; he continues to push them, trying to settle them deeper, and as he does, the tip of his fingers too sink in your hot and wet mouth.
"Cover them up nice and warm," he suggests, "they'll be going inside you."
Another desperate groan tempts to slip past your lips, but you bite down on it and continue to suck on the balls in your mouth. Yeosang's fingers plunged a little deeper than before, forcing the orbs further down your throat; he hums in satisfaction once he thinks it's enough. Offering a subtle tug on the chain he held onto, he pulls the orbs out and lets them dangle in front of you. They're slick with your spit; a thin layer coats their surface and translucent saliva strings adhere to them in a perfect curve. You squeeze your thighs together, melting at the thought of him stuffing those balls inside you.
"You get really eager, don't you?" Yeosang teases, slipping his hand from your waist to in between your legs; he slaps your thighs apart, and then proceeds to tug on your shorts. "Since it's our first time, I will keep it...easy for you."
As the last bits of his words dither in your mind, you had failed to notice how in one swift motion he had torn your shorts off of your waist. First the shirt, and now your shorts. Both laid littered in pieces on the floor.
"What do you mean—nghhhh!" your voice clamours to a moan, a sudden gelid sensation urging you to close your eyes and revel in it.
"Oh, you know," Yeosang grins, "take things slow with you." He bites down on his lower lip, addressing to you in a mumble, "relax for me, will you. Deep breaths."
Listening to him, you take a deep breath in, your anticipation pulsating past its limit. A second ticks, and he nudges one of the spheres against your folds, eventually dragging them along your slit to slip it in your cum-filled hole; the first orb stretches only so much, burning the pit of your stomach in a momentary heat. He tugs further on the dainty chain holding both of the spheres to have them fit snug in you. The warmth of his fingertips disrupts the peace in your heart; nifty tremors spread across your spine when he pushes two of his fingers in, delving them deep and gently pressing the balls further inside. If you could be honest, the cold sensation of the balls and the drifting warmth of his finger was wrecking your mind, giving you the sensory stimulus you needed so bad.
"Fuck—it's cold," you moan, rolling your hips down on his hand to let his fingers plunge further.
He clicks his tongue, immediately pulling his fingers out and offering one of your asscheeks a light squeeze. "You're not supposed to enjoy your punishment, kitten."
"I'm—I'm not," you stutter, knowing well you were lying to him.
"Really?" he emphasises, groping both of your asscheeks and spreading them apart, "the way you were grinding down on my fingers, it said otherwise."
"I just—I need something more to—need something more to feel..." you trail off, going speechless for the moment when the heaviness of the balls settles in your cunt.
"No, kitten," he slurs, "you don't need anything more."
Yeosang glances at his fingers, coated with your juices and Seonghwa's cum from before; he honestly has no problem with it, and speaking in all fairness, he's used to this kind of plight. Watching the translucent fluid coat his fingers, he lets his lips curve to a conceited smile before bringing his hand in front of your face. His other hand stays tangled with your waist.
He clicks his tongue and prompts you, "lick these off. It's yours and Seonghwa's...afters."
Eager, you open your mouth and let him stick his fingers in; a familiar salty and bitter taste coats your tongue, with tender underlying tones of sweet. Enjoying the warmth and the sloppy confines of your mouth, he thrusts his fingers in till he's knuckles deep. You lap your tongue along his fingers, nonetheless, sucking them clean. Offering a few kitten licks to you his rough fingers, you muffle a whine when he pulls them out with a vile 'pop' sound reverberating around you two.
"Such a good kitten," he muses, "cleaned my fingers with her tongue. She deserves a treat, she really does."
His absence leaves your back, which alerts you and prompts you to straighten up slightly. And with that subtle movement of your waist and your back, your walls to clench around the metal orbs. A curt whiplash of arousal crawls up your spine, making you hiss at the furor which spreads across your body, rather quite instantly. Yeosang's face comes into your view; a face worth admiring, a face you could never get tired off. His eyes nurture a sense of slumber, and his plump lips are seemingly too kissable to deny the urge. The gorgeous man in front of you, standing right behind the chair, which was stuck between you two, had dubious intentions inscribed in the brown specks of his eyes.
Leaning in close to you, he cups your face with both his hands and nudges the tip of his nose along yours; he traces it down to your lips, only for a hot second before ghosting his own on yours. In the next minute, his tongue darts out and swipes under your lower lip. A smile fleets on his face, his eyes glimmering with an untamed desire. The grasp of his hands surrounding your face tightens, holding your face in one place as he abates the distance between your lips. A brush. A delicate brush of his lips wanes you to a complete silence, and it soon blooms in your chest, slipping out of in you in the form on a whimper. Yeosang's lips start lapping up with yours, dwelling into a heated kiss which starts mellowing out every sane thought in your mind.
For the time being, struck with his lips and his hands, you forgot your hands were tied behind your back, you forgot about the rope nicking your skin and leaving red marks behind; you were immersed in the way his lips moved with yours, how he softly grumbled when you tilted your head and deepened the kiss. Breathless, you kept it going, you kept your lips on his while his tongue prodded past them. Yeosang pushes his thumb pads into your cheeks, forcing you to heave a gasp and allowing him to push his tongue in. The slickness of his tongue wraps around yours, tackling it in the further warmth of your mouth.
He moans, sounding it from his chest when you start sucking on his tongue. You push his sloppy muscle out of the way and shove yours down his throat. In the despair of your body, you're slithering beyond to caress the tip of your tongue against his uvula. When his gag reflex kicks in, he groans and pulls your face away from his.
Out of breath and panting softly, he smirks, "my kitten is so desperate." He pushes himself back, continuing in a mere whisper, "come on, we've still got five pages to read over."
Tugging you to the place where you were kneeling before, he forces you to get down; without much hesitation, you oblige to his demand and sink on your knees, the stray sheets of paper kissing your bare skin. The metallic spheres which were sheathed deep in your cunt, fidget with your walls and stroke your arousal. You gasp when the balls plunge in the steepest part, only for the time you were adjusting yourself on your knees.
Yeosang grins to himself, watching you squirm and struggle to keep your spine upright. Hunching over, you fail to notice him extending his hand to wind it around your throat; with a simple and steady jerk, he forces you to meet his eye, his lips encasing one of the most impish smirks ever. His fingers dig deep into your skin, denting it with his mere strength and painting it with little crescents of his nails. The more you stare at him, the tighter his grip becomes around your throat. You choke on your spit, mouth falling agape to the torrid desire of breathing. In all seriousness, his fingers and thumb were pressing against the right places on your throat.
"Eyes on me," he growls, "when you're with me, I want your eyes on me. At all times. Exceptions would be—" he trails off, "—when you're blindfolded, or in any position which makes it uncomfortable for you to look at me." Letting silence speak louder, he bites his lower lip and waits for you to answer. And upon getting none, he snickers, "what do we say, kitten?"
You couldn't really get your words out, not when his hand continued to clasp around your throat, tightening every second and causing your walls to convulse into each other. The worst part, however, was when you writhed to the enthusiasm of getting choked; every time your body shuddered against the floor, the balls inside you built your arousal to its brim.
Regardless of your throat turning dry, you croak, "yes master."
"That's what I like to hear," a smirk splays on his lips, while he loosens his grip on your throat. A sudden wave of concern washes over his tone, "you should let me know if I'm crossing any limits, Angel."
You shake your head, coughing, "it's—I'm fine—I'm fine, really."
"Are you sure?" he asks, a smile wavering on his face before it is replaced with a straight line, "next time we meet, we'll be setting our boundaries. You need to tell me what you're uncomfortable with and what you're okay with. Got it?"
Nodding your head, you weakly string out, "yes, master."
Yeosang seems satisfied with your answer and pulls himself back on his feet, letting go of your throat; he towers over your slouched shoulders, arms folded over his chest as he coaxes you with an encouraging jab of his head.
"Continue. From where we left off."
His footsteps descend down the meagre dark beside his bed; he grabs the candle from the desk adjoining it and carries himself back to you. For a minute, in your state of bemusement, you gawk at his veiny hand which wraps so delicately around the candle. And later when the minute of confusion passes you like a dream, you come to terms with what he has planned for you. Yeosang's lips curve slightly with every step he takes toward you, his eyes glinting with mischief and lust.
"I can't hear you, kitten." He teases, "I'm assuming you've had hefty breakfast in the morning. Gonna need you speak a little louder, kitten."
You shift on your legs, sitting with a comfortable posture, distributing your weight equally on your calves before his words lash on you and make you squirm, causing the balls to twist and turn around in your cunt. The budding tension in the pit of your stomach is too much to contain; if only there was something more to unravel you. Biting on a moan, you nod your head vigorously and swallow some of your spit down to wet your dry throat.
"The slave hands her," you read the next page in line, eyes tearing up gradually from the pleasurable ache pounding at the walls of your cunt, "the slave hands her training over to her Master."
"Hmm," Yeosang hums and displaces himself behind you, "go on."
You're too focused on the reading to notice anything out of order. "The Master may give his slave 'free periods', be it in the Master's presence, where the slave—the slave may express herself openly and freely."
"That's right," he hums, his presence warming up to your back when he leans over slightly, "hmm, carry on."
Heaving in a deep breath, till it convulses your lungs into each other, you proceed, "there will be no punishments applied during these free periods. However, it is understood that the slave will continue to address her master with respect—ah fuck you."
A hot sizzle crawls down your back, trickling further and farther on your skin; the hot sensation traces a mere inch, and it dissipates to a steady streak of coldness. Muffling a whimper, you give yourself a little time to comprehend what had happened.
Candle. Wax. Hot wax. Hot wax on your skin.
You draw your shoulders in, and then roll them out, focusing on reading. As if you could really concentrate on the task at hand, when he is fixated on pouring the melted wax on your flesh. The burn of the candle grows intense on the crook of your neck, while his other hand lingers up and down your spine, dipping down the curve and then pulling back up.
Yeosang clicks his tongue, "you know the rules, kitten. From the top. Again."
You despised hearing those words, those exact words which caused you so much torment and frustration; if you could, you would pick yourself up the floor and leave, but sadly the contract states the otherwise. The contract states a lot of things, all of the phrases are now ingrained in your brain. Of course they would be, you've read them countless times. Even so, with all that you've read and spent your time reading, you hadn't gotten to the end of it yet.
"Please," you whine, "you caught me off guard." Squirming on your feet, your knees itch with an urge to unfold yourself from your position. Though even when the thought of you doing that crosses your mind, the balls in your cunt move, and wreck your body with the soaring pleasure. "Let me read, let me continue. I can't go back and read it all over again. I'm tired."
Yeosang sucks on his teeth, "fine. Let's put a stop to this. Don't worry about the reading for now, just relax yourself and take deep breaths whenever I tell you to."
From the back, he pushes the contract papers aside and they scatter further away on the floor. You're steep in anticipation, partaking in the little games he was playing with you. And to your surprise, he loops one of his arms around your waist and pushes his chest into your back. His other hand, holding onto the candle, comes in your view for a meagre second before it drifts down your chest. Peeking over your shoulder, he directs the candle towards your collarbones, right by the centre. As the wax on it melts, a few drops trickle and trail between your tits; you hiss at the burn, throwing your head back onto his shoulder and closing your eyes shut.
"Does it hurt that bad?" he chuckles, "you're such a pathetic liar, kitten. I know my way around this, the wax isn't even that hot, is it...?"
You press your lips together and nod, whimpering, "but it—but it scares me to not know where and when you'd..."
As you trail off, he chimes in, "when I would drip hot wax onto your skin, hmm?" he stifles another chortle and presses his lips against the crook of your neck, "well kitten, that's the whole point of it, isn't it? You anticipate, live in the thrill—doesn't that get you all hot and bothered?"
His hand which had been around your waist, slides down your lower abdomen and belly to trace circles on your mound; you bite back another whimper because his cold fingertips urged to graze further down to rub your clit. Pressing in circles, his middle finger dips along your slit, the sensation making you mewl. When he presses a little harder, the walls of your cunt tighten around the ovoid device fit snug in the deepest part of you. Yeosang groans the moment he feels your juices and Seonghwa's cum coat his sleek- long finger. He rests his forehead against your shoulder, containing his very urge to shove two fingers into your puffy cunt and saw you out as you deserved to be.
"Yes—yes, it does." You squeak, catching up on your slipping tongue and the hitching breath.
Speaking of truth, you were certainly beyond bothered. This session was dragging on in a painfully slow pace, and you wondered if this is how it's going to be with him at all times. Though, you couldn't completely deny that you were enjoying yourself, just as much as he was by toying with you. Yeosang doesn't utter another word and his warmth strays off your back; the intensity of the candle grows stronger on one of your tits, and before you could react to it in anyway, a good and hot wad of wax trickles down your fleshy tit and taut nipple. Pressing your lips together, you prevent yourself from whimpering to the searing heat, but it soon cools off and hardens around your skin, moulding perfectly.
"Yeo—" at the verge of spilling his name out, you catch your tongue but it's too late, the sweltering wax is already leaking down on your chest.
"I do not recall giving you the audacity to call me by my name." His chuckle is long lost in your ear, "you need to learn, kitten, that, bound in these four walls, I'm your master. Do you understand that, or I do need to fuck it in your brain?"
You swallow the prickly lumps forming in your throat, and nod with an eager look, "yeah, yeah—I understand, master."
"Such a good kitty, she deserves to be treated, doesn't she?"
The nods of your head grew softer but still remained eager; as your foreboding anticipation would crash over you, Yeosang trawls the candle across your chest and continues to do so until he's painted perfect rivulets of crimson wax on your skin. Alluring shade, intricate patterns branching outward on your skin, it was a piece of art how the melted wax framed your chest. You tilt your head to catch a glimpse of the red streaks, captivated by his work. Yeosang grumbles a string of incoherent words, sounding a little off in his satisfaction; you keep yourself from whimpering his name, and shift about on your folded legs. There it was a blinding spark of tightness roiling in the pit of your stomach.
"Please, please, please..." you chanted in your haze of desperation, wanting to be relieved of your misery.
The man leaning against your back, clicks his tongue; his presence starts to dither, the warmth cascading down to a cold breeze of nothingness. He's off and up, the candle disappears from your line of sight, and it fills up with tears. You may not like to admit it, but you were really close to letting go of all the tension in the pit of your stomach. A simple nudge would be enough for you to come undone. Though, in the darker side of your mind, you couldn't foretell any of Yeosang's further moves. Sullen in the state of stillness, you take a deep breath and let the nifty moments roll out. And to your surprise, you find Yeosang placing the candle back to its rightful place; he turns on his heels, the meagre light illuminating a haughty curve of his lips.
"If my memory serves me right," he drags his words into a whisper, "I remember Seonghwa boasting about the head you gave him."
"Is it true, Angel?" your brows scrunch together in bemusement. "I would need to know it for myself, how well your mouth takes me in."
You gulp. Audibly enough for his smirk to lilt on his lips, stretching into his cheeks. "Say ah, kitten."
He prompts you with a mocking tone, having stood in front of you now. You tilt your head up, raising it high to meet his ambiguous eyes, drifting further apart into the dark intentions of his words. Without hesitation, you slack your jaw and open your mouth; all sounds are stuffed back into your throat when two of his fingers push inside your mouth. Pressing the pads of his fingers against your tongue, he pushes them further into your throat. The calloused yet soft skin of his fingers leaves an eerie sensation on your tongue, but you gulp it down and begin sucking on them.
"So warm and soft. Can't wait to have this mouth around my cock," he grumbles, throwing his head back slightly, "you know what, kitten? Why don't you show me what you can do with your mouth. Fuck my fingers first and then I'll decide whether this mouth deserves to have my cock in it or not."
A part of you was extremely pushed into this corner of desires and arousals; it wasn't just a dream for you, and even if it was, you were living it. Did it happen every day that you'd stumble upon an innocent man, seemingly unbothered and unfazed by mere interactions around him, only to find out he's much filthy in his mind than he shows himself to be? No.
Yeosang's way of teasing and slurring his words was turning you on more than you had ever expected. You squeeze your thighs tightly for your cunt to detangle the tension it was sparked with it. Though, it only made matters much worse because your feeble actions had made the balls inside you to create tremors in the pit of your stomach. Contemplating his words, you start sucking harder on his fingers and hollow your cheeks to constrain them in your warmth.
"Fuck," yeosang grunts, peeking at you through his half-lidded eyes, "wonder why I made you—fuck, kitty—" you lap up your tongue around both his fingers, pushing the tip over and under, "—should've ruined this mouth instead of making you read a pathetic little contract."
You hum in response, the gentle vibrations stifling around his fingers. Noticing, he coos, "aww, you agree too, kitten?" his lips curl, menacing a thrill in your stomach, "hmm, I need to know if you deserve my cock, or not."
Taking that as a challenge, you become determined and suckle his fingers deep in your throat; he doesn't resist and pushes into you. There's spit leaking out of your mouth, trickling down your lips and staining your chins with perfect opulent rivulets. He's caught admiring how you had started to choke on his fingers, screwing your eyes shut to help you alleviate the discomfort. You weren't exactly put in a state of unease, but you knew you'd take some time to get used to it. Yeosang's fingers weren't as sleek or long as Yunho's. They were rather girthy and veiny, taking up the entirety of your wet mouth. He keeps scuffing them on your tongue, fingernails digging in your fleshy muscle as he drags his fingers out of your mouth. The moment he's gotten them out, you cough, urging it all from your lungs before lurching forward.
"I'm convinced," he states, licking the fingers which were just shoving down your throat a second ago, "your mouth was made to please a cock."
As the wispy tones of his words dissipate in the air, you hear the soft scuffling of his shorts being pulled down; you peek back up, ravenous gaze creeping up his feet, thighs and then to his exposed pelvis. His shorts and briefs pool around his ankles, and he takes only a meagre second to step out of them. The next thing you know, his silly little tank top is discarded next to the pile of his bottom wear. Honestly, you wondered why he even wore that nifty tank top when it covered almost nothing of his chest.
"Master..." you spluttered through your chest, scoffing up the bits of spit and drool strings coating your chin and lips. "...be a good kitten—suck you off."
At this point, your brain was a mush. A complete mess of carnality, oozing past every limit. You felt lightheaded, and it wasn't because you had been staring, or slobbering at the sight of his cock resting against his lower belly, but because of the two very prominent and pronounced balls moving on about in your cunt. Realisation hits you harder than you thought it would; the balls kept rolling and screwing you over inside, painfully edging you to your orgasm. But they never pushed you to the very end of it.
"Yes, kitty. Patience," Yeosang lulls his words, "I'm just as eager as you to ruin this pretty little thing."
You watch him, helplessly, as he uses one of his hands to wrap it around the base of his cock. He gives it a few pumps, dragging his palm along the shaft to the reddened tip. While his other hand eases up to cup your jaw and his thumb hooks into your lower lip. His fingers rest under your chin, and his thumb prods at your lower jaw; you willingly let your mouth widen.
"Be a good kitty, hmm?"
You nod, shifting yourself on your knees to crawl closer to him. The stinging ache of your bounded arms was starting to turn forgettable. It was all too sudden, easy even, to forget about the pain when you were focused on something else. Here, getting your throat wrecked by him and his cock. Yeosang's size was impressive, really impressive; you don't find any joy in comparing lengths, but he'd easily be two inches above average.
"And I heard from Jongho that you..." he trails off, tugging up at your jaw to force your eyes on him instead of his cock. "...you like staring at—is that true?"
You want to shake your head and deny his petty allegations, but his thumb hooked in your mouth keeps you from moving even an inch. He pumps his cock a few more times before aligning the tip against your mouth. Having propped it opened with his thumb, Yeosang slips into your sloppy warmth without any effort, sinking down on his hips and pulling his hand away from your mouth. You feel the stretch on your lips, not much, but it's still there to remind you how well he had stretched your mouth open with his cock.
A lowly growl peeps from his chest, and he bottoms out in your mouth; soaked in your wet and warm spit, he closes his eyes shut and bites down on his lower lip. "Let me—fuck, so—kitten's mouth is so fucking warm—fuck, kitten, let me know if I can move or not."
You don't really have any mode to indicate him you were ready; so, you push your tongue to the top of your mouth and lick up a stripe under his shaft.
"That's a good kitten," Yeosang smirks, tangling the fingers of his both hands into your hair and pulls you away. "Gonna take my cock deep in her throat, isn't she...?"
With only his tip in your mouth, you rub your tongue around it and he growls which rings out to a chuckle, "fucking hell. Seonghwa was right, this tight little thing can really take a cock in."
He starts pushing on his hips, and you willingly swallow his cock. Reaching deep enough, the tip of his cock brushes over the roof of your throat, triggering your reflex gag in an instant. You choke on your spit but continue to slug his cock further down in your throat. A moan strangles itself in his chest, his mind going numb to the tightness and the warmth of your throat. Yeosang hurls his head further back, his neck arching to a perfect curve while his eyes stay shut tight; you peek up at him, your own gaze shining with tears and innocence. A tiny fracture in time coaxes him to compose and turn his attention on you. You're stalked by his predator-like eyes, every movement, every blink of your eyes, every breath you hitched out of your nose; at a point, you were starting to suffocate on his cock.
"Good kitty," he praises, his voice startling you a bit as it turns softer and melodious. "Sucking my cock so well."
He lets his cock stay buried in your throat for a minute more before pulling back, not completely out, however. You moan in response and flatten your tongue under his shaft, keeping it unmoving for a while. Yeosang fists his hands in your hair, guiding your head down on his cock to let it plunge deep again. The pace of him toying with your head is, steady and slow, easing out every time you gagged or choked on his cock the moment it reached your throat. One of his hands disentangles from your hair and traces around your throat; his thumb pushes right under your jaw, feeling a faint bump of his cock through your skin.
"Can you feel it, kitten..." he growls under his breath, "can you feel my cock—ah fuck—can you feel my cock bulging around your tight little throat?"
You groan, hollowing your cheeks and sucking him in deeper. He gets the answer he was hoping to get; his other hand still twined in your hair, lowers your head on his cock till your nose is scrunched up against his pubic bone, his soft and tender skin tickling your lips and nose. He was well groomed.
"That's more like it," he whimpers, tightening his grip around your throat to exert an additional pressure; it constrained the walls of your throat around his cock, tensing up your muscles. "A pretty mouth for my use."
You really wished you could voice out your pleasure as well. Though, that becomes a lost possibility when he starts thrusting himself back and forth in your mouth. You keep your cheeks squeezed around his cock as the pace of his thrusts picks up. Yeosang's lips part when a hoarse moan slips past them and his eyes screw shut at the feeling. One of his thrusts falls out of rhythm and he slips out of your mouth; glancing down at you, he clicks his tongue, and you eagerly wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. You lower yourself, without needing to be pushed by him. Struck with passion, he rolls his hips into your face and his cock is back in your throat, snug and warm.
When the tip of his cock brushes on your tongue, you taste a slight hint of bitterness from his precum and swallow it down. Spit dribbles out of your lips when he pulls his cock back, slithering onto your chin and further below; he clenches his jaw, the pace of his thrusts surging and continuing to be more spontaneous. He kept plunging his cock deep into your throat, kept your head steady by intertwining both of his hands in your hair. Tears well up in the corner of your eyes; his ruthlessness and roughness were too much for you to handle. You push your conscience through it, squirming in your place when you are struck by the heaviness in your cunt; the balls, they shuffled along your puffy cunt and teased a knot in your gut.
Yeosang's hips rattle against your face, every time he pushed you down, your nose would get rumpled by his pubic bone and that would leave you no chance to breathe. Your lungs burned with the need in your chest, your body slowly starting to convulse to his animalistic lechery. With his every thrust, your chest would heft out, and the puddling streaks of wax would fall off your skin and onto the floor. He would go harder, he can, and he was about to; you knew it well, tears stain your cheeks and drool drips down your chin, drop by drop, eventually falling onto the floor. Clinging onto the last breath you scoured to take, you shift on your knees and the orbs fitted snug in your cunt, give your gut a little nudge to make you cum.
You were close. So damn close. It was starting to turn into a painful endeavour than pleasurable; you were gagging on his cock, strangled by his relentless and aggressive thrusts, and forced to choke on your spit because he won't pull out. Your mouth was a paradise for him, the tightness, the warmth, the way your tongue slopped under and over his shaft, it was all driving him wild. Amid his thrusts, you feel his cock twitch, indicating you he was close to his edge too.
Puffing out a guttural moan, Yeosang heaves a sigh and pulls himself out of your mouth. Sweat covers his body in a thin coat, glimmering against his skin; his hair sticks to his forehead and face, cupping around his cheeks as he pants and becomes too breathless to form words. Aching suffocation makes you cough out the spit which had been trapped at the back of your throat; your body wants to collapse; you want to lay down on the floor and roll into a ball to compose yourself. Regardless of the lethargy and stinging strain on your lungs, you look at him with teary doe eyes, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out for him.
"Such a dirty little kitty, wants to make me cum, does she?" he mumbles, a smug smile curving his lips and his hands slipping off from your hair. "Then she better fucking swallow what I give her."
A mild throb nicks at your neck from being angled in an uncomfortable position, though you could care less about it; slotting yourself in the similar position as before, you shudder when he rubs the tip of his cock along your lips, and cheeks. You were lost in the ecstasy of your lewd mind, your arousal only minutes away from coming undone; the connection between your rationality and tongue had been severed, you knew you were about to spew nonsense for him.
"Want to make my master cum—make him feel good," you voicelessly utter, your breath fanning over his cock, "kitty will...kitty will swallow what her master gives her."
"Hmm, that's a good kitty," he grunts, nudging his thumb on your chin, "open wide now, kitten."
You do as he says, loosening your jaw and opening your mouth wide for his cock to slip right in. This time, he wastes no time in plunging his cock directly in your throat; his thrusts pick up the instant you start gagging on his cock, the tip submerging deep in your warmth. With his concise and sharp thrusts, your body rattles to his force and the rope shackled around your arms bites down into your skin. One of Yeosang's hands is back into your hair, though this time he collects every strand in a makeshift ponytail and guides your head on his cock by holding onto it. His other hand grabs your jaw, his fingers slamming tight across your cheeks; he presses them hard, compressing the space in your mouth to his cock.
"Ah, yes—fuck, kitten—a really good—ah, fuck, such a good fucking pocket pussy for my cock."
A few more rough and aggressive thrusts send you into a sensory overdrive, a nightmare breaking past the bounds of your mind and coming alive; you were aching with an intense urge to let go of the knot tautening in your stomach. You were on the verge of breaking down into tears and sobbing—hell, you had already started crying. Hot tears exude from your eyes, trailing perfectly down your cheeks and ending up on his fingers; your cheeks were still squished by the way. Yeosang was using your mouth quite adeptly, rutting his hips like an animal and pushing your head against his pelvis. You were so done, so tormented by the spheres clinking around in your tight cunt that you couldn't contain it anymore. You're the first one to fall apart, your body trembling to shambles and your mind fogging up with the aftermath. Your juices pool down on the floor, creating a splash with its sound resonating in the room filled with Yeosang's grunts and moans. Panting to the terrible weakness taking over you, your chest heaves up and down, erratically, your lungs screaming in need for air.
"My kitten made a mess on the floor," he grumbles, peering at the floor where your arousal, mixed in with Seonghwa's cum pooled, "such a bad kitty—fuck, such a bad kitty to relieve herself on the floor." biting back on his moans, he shudders as he continues in his raspy tone, "but my kitty did so good—pleased her master—fuck, so good—pleased her master so fucking well. She–she fucking deserves a treat."
Yeosang's cock twitches in your mouth; his eye had been fixed on your body all this while, learning every detail and habit about it. He admired your ability to gag on his cock, he liked the way your body convulsed in itself when you came, and he loves the fucked up look on your face. Sweat, tears, spit, covering every inch bit of your skin and giving it a shine; besides, your eyes, shrouded by darkness, a tinge of lust which shows how drunk you are on his cock.
"This face—ah, this fucking gorgeous face—next time, I'm taking a picture—fucking keeping it to myself to jerk off to." he's so breathless as he blabbers out.
That was the breaking point for him, your face, the stretch of your lips around his cock as he plunged in and out, and the eerie pleading in your eyes. As a sadist, he doesn't need anything else to feel him lose himself; he just needs your tears, your vulnerable moans and your tormented eyes. One more time his cock twitches in the deepest part of your throat, and suddenly warmth starts trickling down; his load floods your mouth in waves, spurting and gushing all over in your mouth.
He lets go of your cheeks and pinches your nose instead; his other hand still held you back in a ponytail, slowly and gently tugging on it to push you away so he can slip out from your mouth. When he pulls out, a few strings of spit and cum stay linked with your lips and the tip of his cock.
"Swallow." he sternly utters.
The clasp of his forefinger and thumb on your nose tightens, leaving you no choice but to breathe in through your mouth; eventually, you swallow down the entirety of his load. Bitterness of his cum makes you gag, but you still push through and once done, open your mouth wide to show him you had guzzled every last drop of him.
"Such a good little kitty," he whispers and let's go off your nose; he takes a step back and watches your body lurch into itself. You tired, catching up on every lost breath and it amused him how helpless you seemed, coughing, panting, face covered in bits of his cum and spit.
"This isn't over yet, kitten. Get on your feet." He commands in a stern voice, shaking up your body and getting you on your feet. "Sit here."
You find him standing behind the chair, his lips slightly curved. Finding his intense eyes swelter on yours, you somehow manage to stand on your wobbly legs and stumble to the chair. Instead of sitting like a normal person, your knees give in and slump down on the chair, earning an amused yet belittling chuckle from Yeosang.
"Seems like my kitty is tired." he muses with a pout on his lips, stepping around to kneel in front of you. "Don't worry, I'll take care of her."
Muttering almost incoherently, he lets a smile hook onto his face, his cheek fluffing up slightly at one side. Yeosang's eyes hold yours, keeping you arrested in the motion while you try to sit properly on the chair; the light caresses of his fingertips follow up your knees and eventually graze past your inner thighs. He spreads your legs apart, humming in satisfaction at the sight in front of him. You bloomed like a flower, your folds wet and slick; remnants of Seonghwa's cum still showed slight traces around your mound and slit. Yeosang drools, a wad of spit rolling out the corner of his lips.
"Such a pretty little cunt," he rasps, pushing himself closer to you, "a pretty pussy to devour."
The sheer waves of his warm breath ebb over your mound, shuddering your body and making you lose your mind. You throw your head back, arching your neck and lurching behind into the support of the chair. Yeosang whistles lowly, palming his hands further up your thighs and letting them rest too close to your cunt. He uses his thumbs to spread your folds apart, admiring the pretty pink flesh obscured by the limpid texture of Seonghwa's cum. Without any warning, Yeosang dips his head down, fluttering kisses on your abdomen and going lower to your belly. His lips graze your mound, and his tongue slides out, the tip pushing along your slit.
"Fuck—master, please—ah, Yeosang, feels good," you let his name slip past your lips, mentally cursing yourself at the fuck up.
Yeosang acknowledges your little mistake, by nibbling down on your clit with his teeth; it's a gentle nibble, but his teeth sink quite nicely to give you a whiplash. "Strike one, kitty."
"M'sorry," you mumble your head and close your eyes shut, focusing on the way your body had started melting under his breath and tongue.
Flattening his tongue, he laps up your slit and folds, his thumbs stretching you out and propping you open; he gives you soft licks, lapping up Seonghwa's cum. He swallows it down, whatever that he could scour from your pussy. And in a sudden rush, his tongue slithers to your hole, prodding and pushing inside. You tried to hold onto your own hands, your nails digging into the flesh of your forearms; the rope was nowhere near loosening, and that was awful already — but the urge to just tangle your hands in his hair and push his head down, was almost getting the worst of you.
"You'll have to get used to it, kitten," Yeosang huffs out, pulling away slightly only to bury his face back into your cunt; his tongue continues with the abuse, protruding into your hole and lapping up on your walls.
"I know," you breathe out, drawling on your spit and peeling your eyes open to peep down at him. "Oh, fuck," keeping your words to yourself, you stare at the man, absolutely turned on.
His head was between your thighs, his fingers pushing and stretching you out, while he devoured you like you were his last meal. You really did wish to push his head down against your cunt, help him reach to the deeper depths of your warmth. Yeosang's tongue thrusts in and out, toying with the metallic chain of the orbs which were fit inside you. The latter half of the chain dangled out; one of his hands disappears from your inner thigh and holds onto the little dangling chain, while his other hand rakes to your cunt. Giving you no time to comprehend, he slips two of his fingers inside, pushing and curling them to his pleasure and unravelling you.
The placid yet unruly thrusts of his tongue nudged the balls every time, and his fingers did too. You were already lightheaded from your prior release, but as he continued to plunge and shove, the tension for second release started building up in the pit of your stomach. To add to your arousal, Yeosang pokes the tip of his nose along your slit, pressing hard.
"Feels so good, Yeo—master," you quickly correct yourself, a heavy moan gliding across your tongue and making you bite down on your lips. "Hmmm—so fucking good." Your words are left to muffle by your clasped lips.
Yeosang takes it as a nod at encouragement and picks up the pace of his fingers, shoving them in deep and pulling them out painfully slow. His tongue curls inwards, pulsating against your g-spot.
You mewl, "yeah, fuck—right there."
Mumbling against your skin, Yeosang doesn't spare you any mercy. Finding a rhythm, he sticks to it, ruthlessly sawing his fingers through your cunt and his tongue surging deep to tighten the knot in your gut. Only a minute passes, and you clench around him; the metallic balls in you stimulate your release, alongside his fingers and tongue. This was too much, too much to bear; your body spasms one more time before relaxing and untying the knot. Easing out on the tension, your second release floods over you and forces a loud moan from you. All air is knocked out of your chest, sending pleasurable tremors down your spine and readying you for the aftermath.
You peek at Yeosang, who continued to lick and nibble on your cunt before pushing himself back; his skin shines under the limited light of the room, his nose, lips and chin are coated with a thin sheet of your juices.
"You taste phenomenal, kitten." He says, gathering himself together and composing himself on his feet. "Although next time, I'll be wrecking this sweet cunt with my cock."
Shuffling around, he drapes his tank top over his chest and pulls his briefs up; he looks around and clicks his tongue. "Ah, the part I despise the most. Cleaning."
"I don't think I'm in any shape to help you."
"Don't worry, I'll do it later. Let's get you a warm soak first."
"Seems bout right."
You're too fucked out of your mind to comprehend his words, but regardless, you heave a chuckle and close your eyes to let the silence and darkness flow through your mind. As time passes, Yeosang helps you with the aftercare; he prepares you a tub of warm water and pulls you in with him. Your back rests against his chest, while he rubs soothing circles on your thighs, lower belly and arms. Towards the end of the soak, he suggests brewing you a cup of hot tea, to relieve the soreness of your throat.
Once you were out of the tub, he pulls one of his sweatshirts over your head and offers to cuddle you. So, you spend most of your morning in the bed with him, his warm embrace sticking to you like a comforting blanket, while the two of you talk about useless things.
"So..." you trail off.
"So?" he squeaks, confused.
"Doesn't a master need to exaggerate his ownership over his slave?" you ask, biting your lip as you rest your head on his chest.
He snickers, his arms tightening around you and pulling you close, "he does. But what are you insinuating?"
"I've read it in books before, you know. How—how a master—"
"Do you mean collars and all that bullshit?" he instigates, gazing down at you. "Angel, I am not fond of the idea of showing off my possession over you. Besides, all of us here are sharing you with each other. I've always thought of it as unnecessary."
"Oh," you drawl on a breath, "I understand. It makes sense."
Reading the sulky pout on your face, Yeosang chuckles and shakes his head, "but if you want to wear my mark on your body, perhaps exhibit yourself as my slave with pride, then I can get you something."
"Really?" you peer at him, your eyes sparkling at the suggestion.
"Why not?" he muses.
"What are your thoughts on piercings?"
M.list | Previous | Next
106 notes
·
View notes