Unmatched

Part 7

"If you behave, maybe I'll let you leave. If not, well... you don't want to know what that scenario looks like. Understand? Yes? Good. Then we begin."

To accept the insanity of your situation would be resigning yourself to the same bout of madness as has infected Hyunjin, you suppose. For there's no other explanation that makes any sense—indeed, the whole thing defies sense—therefore you can't reason to it.

All you can do is embrace the terror you're afflicted with, the ice-cold dread that sends your breathing to panic. Your lingerie clad body on display for him as he likes it, squirming under his gluttonous stare only seems to exacerbate his enjoyment as he stalks around the bed.

"H— Hyunjin, whatever you're thinking of doing, I promise you it's a mistake," a pointless tug on the chains, they pinch at your skin.

"I'm inclined to disagree. I've waited far too long for an opportunity like this."

Approaching the bedside, with one, long finger he draws a mindless path from your chest to navel, patterns on your skin that you suppose would normally invoke a pleasant reaction. Yet all you're prone to is revulsion, a silent shudder of disdain crawls up your spine, a scream of protest sits in your throat, though you're remiss to release it. Even if the rooms weren't soundproofed, you doubt Hyunjin would take kindly to it.

"You've no idea, have you? The trouble you've caused me?" he asks quietly.

You remain silent; fearfully so.

"The sleepless nights, the empty days. The hopeless desires, the feverish dreams of you – everything about you. Your face, your voice, your body, dreams of fucking you, claiming you, over and over and over, making you scream that sweet sound that never sounds as good in my head as it did in real life..."

The pad of his thumb sweeps your bottom lip, gentle, you jerk away from his touch, loath to feel it at all.

"W— What the fuck are you talking about?" you summon the courage, voice unstable. "Everyone has dreams, Hyunjin, they mean nothing!"

He tuts under his breath, purses his lips and strides to the other side of the room, to a chest of drawers in the corner. Unlike the last time you were restricted to a play room with him, you're well aware of the contents. You're the one that damn well supplies them.

"You shouldn't be so frivolous with dreams," he sighs. "They're our hearts way of telling us what we really want when we're too ashamed to admit it ourselves."

Opening the drawer, he peruses the collection, considering which of the several vibrators to settle on. Fearful, you watch him, hoping that you're wrong.

"You own me, you know. Every part of me," he states, retrieving a ribbed black vibrator, slapping it firmly against the outstretched palm of his hand. "I'm a changed man, thanks to you."

With a swing of his hip, he closes the drawer, turns his attention back to you, a slow and controlled stride across the room.

"I— I swear to God, if you touch me—"

"Calm yourself," he rolls his eyes, settles on the end of the bed. "I told you, we're just going to talk. Or rather, I'm going to talk. You're going to listen. Finally."

He rests the toy on the satin sheets, angles it just so, smiling in satisfaction.

"This is simply an incentive."

To what, you dread to think, though feel the answer is obvious enough. Nausea sweeps you, another vain attempt at unshackling yourself gives Hyunjin cause to tut again, he shakes his head, pouts disapprovingly.