SEXYBACK : hyunsung ✓

𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄

Hyunjin learned the contract implications. He stood in the kitchen, freezing and with damp hair.

Jisung directed him around to get things. Of course, he knew that the dancer had no idea where the spice, imported directly from India, was stored. And he seemed to enjoy telling Hyunjin at the end that the spice did not exist.

But he kept his mouth shut until now. Not a single word came from him yet. He just felt ashamed, trying to look even faster before another, even more, mocking demand came from Jisung.

It took ages for them to bring something to the table.

Hyunjin stared at him as he ate leisurely. They sat at a table for 15 people. Way too spacious for him. It was damn quiet. He picked up his fork.

It was a simple principle that he had caught on to quickly over the past few hours; if you don't do what he says and do it fast enough, you get ridiculed. More severe punishments would probably follow...

Hyunjin wasn't necessarily afraid of that. But he had mad respect.

Respect was about the only thing Hyunjin felt the whole time as he pushed his fork into his mouth. Although there was no hunger in his stomach, he obeyed the silent request.

Jisung's aura changed. He was cold and his manner brought Hyunjin to his knees. He wouldn't even try to escape his words. Would he remain so well-behaved over time...? Probably not. Hyunjin knows himself too well for that.

"Clear up." Jisung's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Hyunjin nodded and stood up. When he returned, the man was gone.

"Over here!" His voice sounded from around the corner.

All the rooms except the kitchen were open. So the dining area merged into a living room. A new-fangled fireplace burned. A show in French was on. Jisung sat in the corner of the couch. He stared at Hyunjin with a haunting look. "Sit."

So Hyunjin knelt on the floor in front of his lap again.

"It's really a shame I don't have a stool... and I'm so tired." Jisung yawned and stretched. A woman gasped in shock in the background.

Hyunjin bit the inside of his cheek. Did he really want that?

"Come on, what are you waiting for?" He wanted to roll his eyes. In any other situation, he would have. But now he followed the instructions and stood on all fours in front of the couch. Jisung placed his feet, thankfully without shoes, on top of him.

Hyunjin looked at the floor. He switched the weight from the heels of his hands to his entire hands to make it as comfortable as possible for the man.

"Listen to me," Jisung said without looking up from the show. "Are you aware that you can say something against my actions at any time and I will stop immediately if it becomes too much for you?"

"Yes sir."

"Have you read through the contract completely?"

Hyunjin licked his lips. He didn't. There wasn't much help in finding an answer from the floor. "Yes sir?" He answered nonetheless.

"What punishment do you get for lying?" Jisung applied pressure to his lower back with his heel.

"I dunno sir."

"The cane."

He couldn't be serious. Hyunjin jerked his head around to look at the man as best he could. Jisung shrugged and maintained eye contact as he spoke. "You're such a poor thing aren't you? Can't you even read yet? Or why don't you read what you're given?" His expression appeared indifferent, but a lambent heat flamed in his eyes. He was waiting for Hyunjin to make a mistake.

The pressure on his back increased, and his arms trembled slightly. Hyunjin swallowed hard. "It won't happen again sir, I promise."

Jisung raised an eyebrow. "What did you do that I should trust you?" Hyunjin didn't know the answer to that.

As a slave in this context, you had to prove that you were worth being owned. Hyunjin was convinced he could, until now.

Jisung placed his water glass between Hyunjin's shoulder blades. The cold object contrasted with his skin, which burned.

The minutes ticked by. The French on the screen grew louder and louder, his arms weakening. Hyunjin didn't know where the lack of strength came from. He could twirl his own weight around like it was nothing on the pole, but holding Jisung up seemed a thousand times more difficult. His cold hair hung on his face. He sweated. The straps from his top slowly slid down his shoulders, but he couldn't prevent it.

"Sir," he brought out eventually. "I can't take it anymore..." His arms were now clearly shaking. If Jisung didn't stop soon, he would make face-first acquaintance with the ground.

"Well?"

"Can't I," Hyunjin tried to fill his lungs with the air they needed. "Can't I do anythin' else, sir, anythin'!"

Jisung took his legs off his back without a word. Hyunjin sat up immediately but only looked at the man. He sat wide-legged in front of him and seemed to mutter disappointed and insulting things. "Get to your room. Sleep. Don't change your clothes."

Hyunjin's heart slipped into his pants. "Do I really have to repeat myself?" Jisung asked threateningly.

He shook his head hastily. "No sir of course not." With that, Hyunjin jumped up and ran out of the room as fast as he could. "I'm sorry sir." He didn't hear the man's response.

As he ran up the stairs, he saw a clock as he passed. Almost midnight. The hour when ghosts arrive. Hyunjin chuckled at the thought. After a while, he found the door with the exclamation mark again. There it came up again, the feeling from not even a minute ago.

Jisung had to be more than pissed. Hyunjin would experience a nasty surprise, there was no doubt about that.

He closed the door behind him without sound. Heavy footsteps dragged him to the bed. He crawled under the covers without thinking too much and hid under them. His body slowly warmed up again.

With the warmth, his body became heavier and sank into the mattress.

Which punishment will he face tomorrow?

With a feeling of guilt as heavy as a stone in his stomach, he fell asleep.