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"How's this?" Jungkook's lips curled into a wicked smirk as he placed a peculiar tool on Minjun's trembling thigh. "It's called a Cat Nail Pinwheel."
Minjun's swollen eyes fluttered open, his pupils shrinking as they focused on the sinister device. Tens of needle-like spikes adorned the wheel's end, glinting faintly under the dim, flickering light. A cold dread clawed its way through his chest, constricting his breath as his mind raced with the possibilities of its use.
"You see," Jungkook cooed mockingly, lifting the pinwheel off Minjun's lap and letting it dangle between his fingers, "I slide my hand through these hoops, and every time I touch you—" he dragged it lazily across the air, "—you'll feel dozens of sharp little kisses."
Jungkook's fingers danced just inches from Minjun's face, the spikes teasingly close to his already battered skin.
"Jimin likes to borrow it sometimes," he added with a cruel chuckle. "But I think it's just perfect for you."
Minjun squirmed in his restraints, lips trembling as he tried to keep himself composed. His throat burned with suppressed cries, but he dared not open his mouth, even as Jungkook reached for something else on a nearby tray.
Without warning, the man's free hand shoved a coarse rag between Minjun's chapped, bleeding lips. He gagged instantly as the rough fabric scraped against the tender walls of his mouth, pressing down on his tongue and kneading the back of his throat with unrelenting force.
"I hate your voice," Jungkook muttered with a sigh, adjusting the rag until it was lodged deep enough to stifle any sound. "I don't have the patience for your screaming tonight."
Minjun's stomach churned violently, a nauseating wave surging upward as the coarse, invasive cloth scraped against the back of his throat, grazing his tonsils with every jarring movement. His body convulsed involuntarily, muscles tightening as he fought the primal urge to gag. Drool spilled from the corners of his trembling lips, blending with the metallic tang of dried blood crusted along the jagged cracks of his split skin.
Humiliation burned hot beneath the surface of his flushed skin, his chest heaving as panic coiled tighter, constricting like an unyielding vice around his ribcage. His thoughts spiralled in chaotic disarray, each pulse of fear sharpening the edges of his discomfort and despair.
Jungkook leaned in, his dominant hand guiding the pinwheel down Minjun's tear-streaked cheek. The faintest pressure from the spikes sent shivers racing down the boy's spine. Though the pins didn't puncture the skin just yet, they left faint red trails that hinted at the damage to come.
Minjun's muffled whimpers escaped through the gag, his entire body recoiling instinctively. But there was no escaping Jungkook's control.
"You're shaking," Jungkook murmured, his voice dripping with mock concern. He trailed the pinwheel lower, gliding it across Minjun's jawline before pulling it sharply across the curve of his chin. Tiny pinpricks blossomed into beads of blood, each one tracing the wheel's cruel path.
