Stolen Hearts

"Was it really necessary to throw a fit?" Jin asked, arms crossed as he stared down at a pouty Jimin sitting on the floor who wouldn't look at him.

Jin sighed when he got no response and crouched to his level, putting his hands on Jimin's criss crossed legs. "I know what happened with the hearts during the game, and I'm sorry about that, but that's no excuse to behave like that in front of everyone," Jin tutted.

Jimin huffed and scooted himself until he was turned around with his back facing Jin. "Jimin," he said sternly, watching the younger boy shudder at his tone, "that's enough now. If you don't stop with this little tantrum, you're going to be punished."

The dancer glanced over his shoulder with a betrayed look on his face before turning away again, "no."

"No?" Jin raised his brows, "alright then."

Jimin squeaked as Jin hoisted him up onto his feet and dragged him to the biggest bedroom they called 'the playroom.' He had Jimin stand in the middle of the room while he unlocked the side table to grab some things they'd be needing. "Strip," he ordered.

The younger boy hesitated before he saw the dangerous look in Jin's eyes and hastily complied. He glanced up questioningly when he got down to his underwear, a plain pair of white panties. " Everything off," Jin said and Jimin obeyed but bit his lip nervously as he saw the objects in the elder's hands.

Jin sat on the edge of the bed and waited until Jimin folded his clothes neatly before patting his thighs, "come here."

Jimin bowed his head, slinking over to him and laying himself across Jin's lap. The older man ran a hand over his bare ass and asked, "what is your safeword?"

"Butterfly," Jimin said quietly.

"What do you do if you can't speak?"

"Shake my head three times and say 'uh uh uh,'" he said.

Jin made a noise of approval, squeezing one of the round cheeks of his ass. Jimin felt the paddle brush against him a second before the harsh impact made him yelp.

"Count," Jin commanded.

"One," Jimin squirmed before a second hit, "two."

By the time they reached fifteen, Jimin was desperately trying to hold still as he cried. Each strike sent a shock through his body, pain blooming from his lower half with every hit and stinging when the paddle pulled away only to start again.

"Please! Please, I'm sorry! Daddy, I'm sorry," he sobbed at twenty.

"Are you really?" Jin asked amusedly, "I'm not sure you are."

"AH! Twenty one, please ," Jimin broke down entirely, clinging to the older man's leg.

"We're going to twenty five," Jin said, striking him again. Jimin was barely able to count, screeching and trying to wiggle out of Jin's strong grip. "If you don't hold still, I'll get the others in here too." The older man listened closely for anything that sounded remotely like his safeword and checked in repeatedly to make sure it wasn't too much.

When they got to twenty five, Jin placed the paddle down and ran a hand along Jimin's sweat slicked back, massaging his bruised and bright red ass. Jin lifted Jimin until he was straddling his thighs and kissed his tear soaked cheeks. Jimin clung to him, hiccuping and shaking violently.

"Daddy," he whimpered.

"I've got you, sweetheart," Jin stroked his hair. He didn't notice the hardness pressed against his leg until Jimin rolled his hips and he chuckled, biting Jimin's earlobe. He wrapped a hand around Jimin's cock, savouring the broken gasp the younger boy let out.