Satisfied ◇J.JK◇ (Oneshot)

Satisfied ◇J.JK◇

When you wake, it’s because your arm twists in an unnatural fashion and you have to maneuver it around as far as your bound wrist will allow you to. It’s dark in this room that you do not recognize, the only light source the pale moonlight that peeks from between thin curtains.

In the corner of the room, displayed on a lone chair, you see your dress neatly folded with your cell phone sitting on top of it and your heels leaning against one of the wooden legs. It was obvious that someone had undressed you. Panic setting in, you quickly rub your legs together and the material of your panties moving between them reassures you.

You’re freezing, and, when you look down, you understand why. You’re dressed in nothing but a large black T-shirt. In big white block letters you read － BONJOUR BITCHES － and fight off a round of hysterical laughter. Not because the shirt is funny. The shirt is fxcking stupid and isn’t yours. You just don’t know how to process your situation. You glance over at a digital clock on the bedside table to see that it’s 2am and presumably the same night that you remember going out for drinks with some girls from your school.

The taste of old alcohol is still on your tongue and when you swallow your throat is scratchy and dry. Your memories are fuzzy, images of sweaty bodies pressing against each other and your friends encouraging you to talk to any man you showed the slightest interest in appearing in your mind. If you didn’t know any better, you would say this was a prank done by the idiotic college girls you decide to hang out with, but with the way your wrist and ankles are tied expertly to the bed and the slight rawness on your skin that suggests you’ve been tied up for a great amount of time－ the chances are low. You tug on what you think are ribbons, wince when the material digs into your skin yet again. No matter how hard you tuck your knees in and pull you are moved back into place each time, legs wide and spread out.

The realization that you aren’t strong enough to break free brings tears to your eyes. No matter how much you struggle it only brings on more pain, and who knew when your captor would back? You blink away the tears and sigh, trying to catch your bearings. If you could just remember how you had gotten there and who had taken you, then maybe you could calm down. Think, you say to yourself, memories of drunken coin fumbling and laughter repeating themselves over and over again until your head starts to pound.

You were alone at one point, overwhelmed by the smell of alcohol and hormones on the crowded dance floor. You were sitting at the bar, manicured nails tapping against the slick cold surface that felt like glass but not quite. A man sat next to you (some would consider him more of a boy, but the small smirk on his lips told you otherwise.) He was tall and unmistakably handsome with large glossy eyes that were barely covered by the fringe of his dark hair.

Your interaction wasn’t brief, and at one point your “friends” came over to drag you away but you were too immersed in the conversation to notice and they were too inebriated to care. The man bought you drinks and your false sense of security prompted you to take them all down without question. “Have you ever been touched by a man before?” He asked suddenly, alcohol catching in your throat as you tried your best to swallow it the rest of the way down despite your body’s protest.

“Yes,” you reply with slight nervousness. The man smiles, and in this memory, you’re almost certain he told you his name but it’s gone now, in the back of your mind tucked into one of the spaces that were too full of names and faces.

“A woman perhaps?” His smile got even bigger when your eyes widened and you shook your head no.

“Only one person and it wasn’t very good… I haven’t been with anyone since. That’s why my friends tried to get me to talk to so many people tonight.” It wasn’t a lie, unfortunately. When you slept with Chanyeol he had been so nervous that you ended up guiding him the entire time with shaky hands and awkward touches.