Ideal Type|BTSxBTS

Prep p2

"What are you?" The man asked as he circled the quivering body on the floor. The body sobbed into the ground and clutched his stomach, the area still bloated from the enema he was given earlier.

"I asked you a fucking question," the man crouched down and grabbed the bodies hair, "what are you?"

"Kim Seokjin! I am Kim Seokjin!" The body cried as snot, drool, and tears leaked from his face.

The man growled and gripped Seokjin's hair tighter, his nails digging into his skull. "No. You are not. You are nothing but a hole for my cock."

Seokjin squeezed his eyes shut and tried to imagine Namjoon in front of him, and not the disgusting man. He tried to imagine Namjoon petting his hair, telling him how pretty he is, and kissing him softly on the forehead. But the image was killed when the man slapped him with the back of his hand. Not once but twice, leaving both cheeks swollen and red.

"For the last time, what are you?!" The man yelled and shook Seokjin's head to emphasize his words.

Seokjin bit his lip and felt a little piece of his self die inside. "I'm a slave! I'm your slave!" He cried.

The man smiled, "and what is your hole for?"

"Your cock," Seokjin sobbed and he felt any ounce of dignity he had left leave his body.

The man nodded and released Seokjin's greasy and overgrown hair. He laid his forehead on the floor as silent tears slipped down his cheeks. He couldn't even find the strength to cry. He was tired and he just wanted to curl up and sleep with the man he loved. He wanted to smile again and laugh again and cook dinners for the members again. Except it will probably never happen and he was going to end up dying with a cock shoved up his ass.

"Now Slave, it's time to prepare you." The man said then grabbed two bundles of red rope from a hook on the wall. He dropped the ropes next to Seokjin and kicked him in the side, layering yet another bruise on his already purple and blue skin.

"On your knees Slave," the man commanded.

Slowly Seokjin pushed his body from the floor and onto his bruised knees, displaying his cock, bloated stomach, and scar covered skin. The man took one bundle of rope and placed it around Seokjin's neck. The rope cut into his skin and windpipe as the man pulled it tighter and tighter. Seokjin gasped, threw his hands up to the rope, and started to claw at it. He tried to dig his fingers between his neck and the rope but it was too tight and black spots were already starting to cloud his vision. Suddenly, air swarmed into Seokjin's lungs and he fell forward, gasping and coughing from the sudden oxygen.

"Sit up Slave," the man demanded as he tugged at the rope, as if Seokjin was a dog.

Against his own will, Seokjin forced his body upwards and chose to focus on the ceiling as the man worked on the ropes. His arms were forced behind his back and he could feel the ropes cutting into the skin of his biceps. A whimper left Seokjin's lips when his wrists were pulled together and another rope was wrapped around them. Any upperbody movement he once had was taken from him and there was nothing he could do about it.

"On your feet Slave," the man commanded.

It was a struggle but Seokjin managed to stagger to his feet. The man stood, stepped in front of him, and let his eyes run up and down his body.

"Should I tie your feet too Slave?" The man sneered as his hand wandered closer and closer to Seokjin's flaccid cock. "Or are you going to be a good Slave and obey me?"

Seokjin clutched his fists, saying yes meant less restrictions, which meant a better chance at escaping. But saying yes also meant agreeing to obey, and he just wasn't ready for that yet.

"Fuck you," Seokjin spat before sending his knee into the man's crotch.

The man cursed and stumbled backwards, but quickly he was back to his feet and grabbing Seokjin by the neck.

"Who the fuck do you think you are bitch!?" The man growled, his meaty fist squeezing Seokjin's neck tighter and tighter.

Seokjin's eyes widened and his lungs gasped for air through the small opening the man was giving him to breathe. It hurt and Seokjin felt his knees buckle before connecting with the hardwood floor. The man groaned and released Seokjin's neck, where colorful bruises were already starting to bloom. The man turned and crossed the room where more of the rope was hanging, and some other objects that Seokjin couldn't make out. When the man returned he went behind Seokjin and tied another red rope between his ankles. The rope wasn't as tight as the one around his wrists but tight enough that he could still walk while being restrained. Or at least shuffle.

Once the man was done, he stepped in front of Seokjin again and held out a new item that he's never seen before. It was a small plastic ball about the size of a golfball, with holes cut into it, and leather straps connected to both sides. And even though Seokjin didn't know what it was or what it was used for, it still gave him chills.

"Open your mouth Slave," the man commanded.

Seokjin's heart sank to the bottom of his stomach when he realized what the contraption was. It was a gag, a ball gag.

"I said open your mouth!" The man yelled this time and Seokjin opened his mouth purely from fear of being hit or choked again.

Immediately the hard plastic ball was shoved between his lips and the leather straps were secured around his head. Seokjin gagged when his tongue pressed against the ball, which sent saliva dripping from the holes and onto his chin. It was disgusting and Seokjins never felt so humiliated in his entire life.

The man sighed and took Seokjin's spit slick chin between his fingers, turning his head to admire him from every angle. "Why do the prettiest ones have to be the hardest to prep?"