Our Secret | Taejin✔️

3. Punished

The remainder of the day went by without incident. The Director did not accompany us back to our office. Mr. Kim was presumably presenting him to some of the other leaders, or he had more to speak with him. I wasn't sure, but I knew I'd run into him the following day.

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Later that night

I was dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt when I arrived at his home. He answered the door with an angry face; he didn't usually grin, but today he was more serious than normal. His stare met mine, and he held me captive. He didn't say anything, but he brought me inside and motioned for me to take a seat on the sofa. This was new to me, but I said nothing since we didn't talk much until it was absolutely necessary. He sat on the opposite end of the couch, evidently content, and silently observed me.

"Is there a difference today?" I asked, gasping for air, wishing he'd just get this thing started. This was a new experience for me. We never sat down to talk; only when rules were required did we do so. Thinking about rules, I should inform him I don't want any markings on my neck.

"I don't believe that's the main question here." His voice was richer and more engaging than it had ever been. "Why did you come?"

"Er, what do you mean why I came? Did I mix up the days?" He waited, obviously unsatisfied.

"I assumed you'd be sliding up and down some kind of pole. Isn't it true that you're studying "pole dancing?" I haven't seen any of those techniques." He stated this while looking at me.

"That's something I do in my spare time, umm. Which is permitted. I'm not pole dancing for the benefit of anybody except myself. Why are we even talking about this? Also, while we're chatting, could you please refrain from putting any more markings on my neck? I'm being questioned about it, and I don't want to continue to lie." I informed him.

"Who's asking you about marks on your neck?" He asked in a stern voice.

"Does it make a difference? I simply instructed you to not do it." What the hell is going on?

"You seem to be making a mistake here. I'll clarify our roles a bit further. Remove your clothing!" I merely gaped at him, even knowing what we typically do. He slapped me in the face, stunning me even more.

"Remove your clothing. I'm not going to say it again." I became frightened and rushed to do as he said, removing my shirt and trousers as quickly as possible.

"Now, put your hands behind your back." I did so, and he pulled a length of rope from his pocket and tied them together. I struggled when I saw what he meant to do, but he subdued me easily, surprising me with his strength. As I sat on the sofa, carefully eyeing him, he sat and savored the sight of me, nude and chained, chest heaving feverishly. Being tied piqued my interest. I was still terrified, but all my thoughts of being chained, spanked, and whipped came flooding back.

He grabbed my arms and roughly tied them behind my back again.

He pushed my face into the sofa. I was alarmed when I spotted the assortment of instruments strewn on the coffee table. Whips, a leather strap, belts, rope, a ruler, gags, blindfolds, and other items I didn't identify were among the items I discovered. I was lying awkwardly on my shackled wrists, then he attached them to my feet, tying my ankles together with a lashing cord. When I was in this position, my knees were bent, and it took a lot of effort to keep my legs together since they wanted to open and display myself to him.

He got a leather strap and started softly whipping me on the nubs, making me moan in delight. He then intensified his whipping, crisscrossing my tummy. I was constantly gasping, twisting, and my knees were falling wide as he alternated forceful, scorching strokes with gentler, more stimulating ones. He abruptly came to a halt and slid a hand between my legs. I bucked beneath his hands, stimulated by the touch of him, who was gaining control of my body, as his finger circled my entrance.