#haseul

Your gaze remains low, not daring to look up, but you catch a glimpse of the two from the corner of your eyes. It's Dr. Heejin from General Medicine and Dr. Haseul from ER (Emergency Medicine).

Haseul looks at you with a grin from the side, to which you sheepishly smile. Veering over to Heejin who stands beside Haseul, she looks at you with a mix of concern and worry, nodding to the empty space beside her, urging you to take your place beside her.

You scuttle through the room, standing right beside Heejin. None of you sit. Director Jeong didn't invite anyone to. She just continues to look at the monitor on her desk, staying silent throughout.

You mouth to Heejen: ‘What’s up?’

Heejin shakes her head with a puzzled expression. They're both in their doctor-wear, unbuttoned long white coat semi-covering their outfits, stethoscope hanging around their necks. She's in her off-shift clothes, they both are: Heejin is wearing an elegant white dress that hugs her every curve and bares her milky and smooth shoulders, and Haseul is wearing a tight leather miniskirt that rides dangerously high when she shifts, the lacy black top underneath peeking through her open jacket.

They texted you earlier:

<Haseul 🖤, 17:36> Hey wtf, why am I being called to Director Jeong’s office on my day off for an emergency?

<Heejin 🤍, 17:38> I’ll be going to Director Jeong’s office right now, emergency. We’ll have to cancel our date. Sorry 😢

You were already dressed up, preparing to head out to the fancy Italian restaurant a few blocks away from the hospital, but the text from Heejin set your plans on fire. Although, at the very next moment, your pager buzzed:

<Director Jeong Jinsol, 17:40> 18:30 sharp. My office. Emergency.

You slid your socks that was already half removed back on, and bolted out of your apartment. It's Director Jeong. If it's 18:30 sharp, it's 18:30 sharp.

And here you are, late. By a whole 2 minutes. It's not a big deal if you're meeting your chimaek friends, but it's definitely a huge deal in your line of work. Every second counts. Especially so with Director Jeong Jinsol. Why? Well, she's the director of the hospital you're working at, so she holds one of the highest authorities in this system. Known to be an extremely strict and tenacious person, she's climbed to her position in a mere five years from her graduation, and have been celebrated as the “Iron-Willed Monarch”. No one wants to step on her toes. But you just did anyway.

The silence is uncomfortable. The hum of the echoey room mixes with a low buzz — probably coming from the lamp light or her desktop’s CPU — and it's so quiet that you’re hearing your own heartbeat.

Director Jeong is seated right by her office desk, its bottom hollow, allowing you to see everything underneath. She's leaned back in her high-backed chair with her legs crossed, and a short black leather skirt that's high enough to show the lace tops of her sheer stockings. Her blazer lace hangs open, revealing the thin black camisole underneath — no bra line, just the subtle shadow of nipples that's already hard against the fabric. On her desk lies a tablet, a stethoscope that’s coiled neatly, and a small black digital metronome that looks out of place until you remember who owns the room.

She taps a key on her keyboard without looking down. The large wall-mounted screen behind her wakes up.

Director Jeong finally looks up. Her eyes are dark. She doesn’t smile.

Plastered on the right side of the bright screen is a video thumbnail of the ER’s supply closet, the date stamp exactly three weeks ago. That's no big deal. Not until Director Jeong drags the timestamp to 14:17. A translucent triangle flashes on the screen and the video plays.

Your feet turns cold. You're driving into Haseul from behind as she braces against a metal shelving, her skirt bunched at her waist. Her moans and screams echo around the room as you pound into her from behind, the angle capturing everything — the way her thighs trembles, the flex of your hips, the shelf rattling with every thrust.

“I—”

“Silence.” Director Jeong cuts you off instantly. She moves her finger again, and another picture pops up on the left of the TV screen. It's another thumbnail, date stamped last Tuesday, 23:42. The video plays and Heejin is bent over on an empty patient bed, white coat open like wings, and her long elegant legs shaking as you sink deep. Her gasps are softer and melodic, muffled against her forearm as you thrust into her, the squelching sounds of your sexes colliding captured crisp and clear.

Director Jeong pauses both feeds on the most incriminating frames — Haseul mid-moan, Heejin’s eyes half-lidded in bliss — then turns the tablet toward you three so you can see the playback controls still active

“I’ve had these looping on loop for three hours and forty-seven minutes,” she says calmly. “Every angle. Every sound. Every time you thought the hospital was asleep.”

She uncrosses her legs and spread them. Her chair creaks as she shifts. No panties. Her pussy is visibly swollen — lips dark pink and glistening, inner thighs slick with multiples as a small egg vibrator embedded in her buzzes with a low vibration. That's where the buzzing sound is coming from, not the lamp light, not her CPU. A dark wet spot is stained on the leather seat beneath her, and a small, glistening puddle has formed on the hardwood floor between her heels.

She reaches down and trails two fingers through her folds, lifting them against the soft lamp light so that it catches the thick strings of arousal stretching between her fingertips, then let them snap.

“This,” she says, “is what your secret performances did to your director. I sat here touching myself to every replay, getting wetter each time you filled one of my doctors. The chair is ruined. The floor is marked.” She turns up the intensity of her vibrator with a click of a wireless switch on her table. The buzzing sound gets louder and her hips jerk a little, but her face remains composed. ““I could end all three careers right now. One email to the board, one attachment of these files, and by this time tomorrow you’d be explaining to your families why you’re no longer doctors or nurses.” She says, her hand tightening into fists. “But I’ve invested too much in my staff to discard talent so carelessly.”

You three stand there quietly, fingers clenching your clothes with worry and nervousness. She pauses and looks up at you all with a haughty gaze, the loud buzzing filling the empty silence of the room.

Then she speaks. “So here’s the deal. Satisfy me tonight completely, obediently without any complaint, and these videos will disappear. Your jobs stay secure. Your reputations stay intact.” She leans forward slightly, hands resting on the desk as her thighs quake from the vibration. “Fail to impress me… and you’ll be lucky to find work as a medical scribe in another country.”

“Do we understand each other?” she asks.

All of you nod. What else can you do other than agree? If this gets out, you're fucked. And Heejin and Haseul? They’ll be fucked worse than you. All their effort to become a doctor, gone.

“Good.” Director Jeong says. She stands up slowly, the vibrator still tucked in her, and walks around the desk. Her wet essence drips onto the floor with every step she takes, and she walks close enough until you can smell the scent of her perfume that’s mixed with musk.

She stands right in front of you, thighs subtly shaking, and drags her finger across your shirt. Her nails claw over your chest, across your nipples, and you let out a soft grunt. Her finger stops right at the center of your chest, and she digs her nail in.

“Strip. Everything. Fold it neatly.” she orders.

“H-here? Right now?” You ask.

“Did I stutter?” She retorts with a raised eyebrow. “Do you also question your doctors when they give you instructions? Maybe I should just send the files.”

“N-no Director. I’m sorry. I-I’ll do it right now.” In a spate of panic and fear, you fumble as you remove your shirt and pants, folding them neatly and placing it on her desk. All the while, the gazes of three ladies look at you, one with fear, the other with greed, and the last with satisfaction.

“I said everything,” she says, “Everything. Director Jinsoul looks into your eyes, before lowering down to gaze at your unremoved underwear. “And you. Dr. Heejin. Strip. To the exam table. On your back. Legs wide.”

Heejin makes a tiny, startled sound, but moves quickly. She knows to not disobey Director Jeong’s absolute instructions. “Y-yes.” She turns and walks toward the medical examination table that lies at the corner of the room. Her fingers tremble as she slips her white coat off, letting them pool on to the floor. She unzips her white dress from her back and folds it nicely, putting it on Director Jeong's desk. Black bra, black panties all already soaked through at the crotch from the short “porn” snippet earlier.

She climbs onto the padded table, the paper sheet crinkling loudly with every shift of her weight. She lies back, arms at her sides and her legs part wide. She's incredibly toned, pronounced abs that glimmer with the sweat that beads off her skin.

“From here, I am no longer Director Jeong. You will all refer to me as… Jinsoul.” Jinsoul wheels an IV pole over — tall, stainless steel, adjustable hook arms. She positions it behind Heejin and grabs her wrists, looping soft medical cuffs around them before securing them to the pole.

“Direc—no, Jinsoul, what—”

“Shush.” Jinsoul cuts Heejin short, before adjusting the IV pole’s height, raising them until her arms stretch above her head. She then pulls the pole further back until her back arches enough to lift her small breasts with nipples that's already stiff against her black bra lace.

“Perfect,” Jinsoul murmurs. She reaches into the drawer on her side and pulls out a pair of blue nitrile gloves. She puts them on, snapping the areas near the wrist with a sharp, echoing crack that makes all three of you flinch.

“You. Come here.” Jinsoul hooks her fingers and gestures toward the table, pointing to the space between Heejin’s spread legs. She walks to the desk, taking her coiled stethoscope and puts the earpieces into both of her ears. Her hand grabs the cold bell, pressing it to your bare chest. You shiver at the contact, its coldness almost freezing your heart.

“Heartbeat 98,” she announces. “Elevated. Excited? Nervous?” Her gloved fingertip traces a slow line down your sternum, stopped just above your cock. “We’ll use that.” She turns to the digital metronome, tapping the screen a few times, setting it to 60 bpm. She places it on the edge of the exam table and the steady electronic tick-tick-tick fills the silence.

“Heejin’s resting rate is 60,” Jinsoul explains clinically. “Nurse, every inward thrust on the beat. No faster. No slower. If you break rhythm, I lower the bpm and we restart from zero. Understand?”

You nod.

She hooks her gloves finger under Heejin’s panties and tug them down, tossing then aside. Heejin’s pussy was bare, pink, and glistening, just as how you remember it when you ate her out last Tuesday. Its lips are puffy, and the clit is already swollen from anticipation.

“Legs wider, doctor. Show him how elegantly you open under orders.”

Heejin’s knees parts further as Jinsoul steps to the side, her hand now resting on the metronome. “Listen to it. 60 bpm. Soft. Controlled. Match it exactly.”

You step between Heejin’s thighs and align yourself, pushing in exactly when the tick sounds. Slow, deep, exactly the full length on the beat.

Heejin whimpers on your penetration, which you don't even stop for her to adjust. The ticking doesn't stop. She bites on to her lower lip, moans and whimpers escaping her mouth. Each inward stroke draws a tiny gasp, each withdrawal leaves her walls fluttering, trying to keep you inside.

Jinsoul watches, one hand resting on Heejin’s inner thighs, pushing them downwards, spreading her wider. “Beautiful,” she says softly. “Look how her body listens when the rhythm is fixed. Keep going, nurse. Don't break the beat. Not for a second.”

The metrone ticks on relentlessly, its digital, mechanical sound clicking around the room. Heejin’s breaths turn into little pants, her moans soft and timed together with the beat. Her bound wrists tug tightly at the IV pole, and the metal clinks faintly with every thrust.

Haseul watches from the side, breathing hard, one hand already between her own legs. She's rubbing slow circles through her panties.

Jinsoul looks at her. "Not yet, Haseul," she warns. "You don't get any pleasure yet. Only we do.” The vibrator in Jinsoul’s pussy continues to hum, and her pussy gets wetter with every passing second. “You'll get your turn. But first… we make sure Heejin is properly examined.”

"Look at her face," Jinsoul says quietly. "So composed, even when she's falling apart. Keep going, nurse. Deeper now. Make her heart race for me."

You obey, drawing out and pushing back in fully thrusts, bottoming out into Heejin with each slow roll of your hips. Her eyes locks onto yours, and she looks orgasmic, pleading, trusting, overwhelmed.

Jinsoul leans closer, whispering into Heejin’s ear. “Feel that control? That’s what happens when you follow orders. When your heart rate cute little heart rate climbs to 100, I’ll raise the tempo. Until then… take him exactly as prescribed.”

You’re losing it. Heejin’s walls are tightening with every beat, resisting and clinging in equal tandem. The tiniest delays accumulate until your rhythm stutters, and your thrusts grow slightly erratic to follow the damning beat of 60 thrusts per minute. Jinsoul notices instantly.

“100 now. Increasing.”

She taps the metronome, and the ticks speed up accordingly. 100 bpm. You're still following the beat, and its just enough to force you deeper, faster, but still perfectly synced.

Heejin’s eyes trembles, and her mouth is now a hollow circle. Each slam into her now is at a speed with purpose, to send her over the edge, to take her towards bliss. Her pussy clenches hard on every beat, and the slick sounds fill the gaps between ticks.

Haseul’s breathing is ragged now, fingers pressing harder against the leather skirt, hips twitching like she’s fighting not to interrupt

Jinsoul’s gloved fingers drifts down, circling round Heejin’s clit, and it's to the beat. 100 circles around her puffy and swollen clit per minute.

“Cum for us, doctor. On the rhythm. Show your nurse—and your director—how beautifully you break when everything is measured.”

Heejin’s back arches off the table, her arms straining against the cuffs as she breaks. A soft, shuddering cry escapes on exactly the final tick of the 100 beat sequence. Her walls pulses around you in delicate, fluttering waves as she squirts all over your cock as you stop pumping.

Jinsoul’s own thighs quiver as the vibrator pushes her closer to her own edge, but her face remains composed. She pulls the stethoscope away, satisfied.

“100 bpm. Excellent recovery.” She looks at you, still buried deep, cock throbbing, denied your own release.

Jinsoul’s gloved hand lingers on Heejin’s inner thigh, fingers spreading her quivering pussy wide as her post-orgasm shudders fade. The metronome keeps ticking at 100 bpm, a cruel hypnotising reminder that the rhythm never stops. She lifts her hand off, the latext glove now glistening with Heejin’s essence, turning her gaze to Haseul.

“Now, Haseul,” she says. “Come over. The metronome stays on… and we're turning it up.”

The ER doctor is already breathing hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and one of her hands is pressed between her thighs over the tight leather miniskirt. Her eyes are dark and wide, fingers are frozen mid-rub as if caught in the act.

“Haseul,” Jinsoul says, walking back towards her table, steps slightly wobbly. Her fingers reach towards the space key on her keyboard and presses down on it. The earlier videos play, and she lowers the volume down so that it is barely audible. The metronome continues to tick loud. “Your turn. Strip and get on the table. Ass up, and face toward her. I want her to watch you while we ruin you.”

Haseul doesn't hesitate. She's hungry, and an almost predatory grin spreads across her face as she removes her white overcoat, leather jacket and toss it to the floor; she doesn't even bother to fold them. She unzips her lacy black top next, and peel her tight leather miniskirt down her thighs, kicking it toward the pile of clothes.

“Wow. No lingerie at all?” Jinsoul mocks, raising her eyebrows. Haseul's nipples are already hard, and her thighs are moist with slick from her glistening pussy. She climbs onto the exam table, crinkling the paper as she gets on all fours, hands and knees planted to the table firmly. Her back dips low and she perches her ass high, ready for claiming.

Heejin turns her head as you stay embedded in her, still flushed and breathing heavily as she as she locks her eyes with Haseul’s feral gaze. The contrast is immediate and stark: Heejin’s elegant, stretched form vs. Haseul’s raw, presented need.

Jinsoul steps behind her. The metronome continues its relentless ticking at 100 bpm. She places one gloved palm flat on Haseul’s back, pressing her down firmly until her chest lowers even more, her ass lifting even higher. Her other hand slides between Haseul’s thighs and spread her open.

“Look at this mess,” Jinsoul murmurs, “dripping before we even touched you properly. You’ve been touching yourself the entire time Heejin was being examined, haven’t you?” Her pussy visibly swollen with its clit protruding, begging to be touched.

Jinsoul rubs the soft latex fingers softly around her wetness, and Haseul moans in answer, her hips twitching forward. “I-I couldn't help it… watching you control him while he… fucked her…”

Jinsoul awards her honesty with two gloved fingers, plunging straight into Haseul's cunt without warning. Haseul’s entire body jolts forward with a sharp yelp, crashing into Heejin’s flushed chest.

100 bpm. The wet shlicks of the latex sliding in and out is obscene and filthy. “Greedy little ER doctor,” Jinsoul taunts, pumping with a steady rhythm, curling her fingers to hit that spot that make Haseul’s thighs shake. “Always rushing into emergencies, never waiting for the proper procedures. Tonight you will wait. You will learn to be patient. You will take what I prescribe.”

“And my Nurse. You better not fucking move. You stay right there, keeping your hard, throbbing cock right in my precious doctor’s pussy. Feel her clench, feel her walls mould around you. Feel her every inch milk you. You better not cum without permission.” Jinsoul orders, and you nod immediately. It's torturous, the way her velvety walls constantly massage your sensitive shaft, the way she continues to suck you in like it's a bottomless black hole. Your mind grow dizzy, and your heart booms in your chest.

Jinsoul glances at the metronome, then at Haseul’s chest. She reaches for the stethoscope still around her neck, and presses the cold bell between Haseul’s hanging breasts.

“124 bpm already,” she announces. “Wild as expected. But… the metronome stays at 100 for now.” She continues to plunge her fingers in and out of Haseul, sending her into a wild frenzy.

“Fuck—yes—fill me—” Haseul pants, rocking back instinctively. Every few beats Jinsoul delivers a sharp slap to Haseul’s ass. Her latex palm connects with a wet crack that leaves bright red handprints blooming across skin.

“Harder,” Haseul yelps. “I can take it. I want it.” Jinsoul obliges, slapping even harder, 100 bpm. 100 slaps on every alternate ass cheek per minute. Each impact makes Jinsoul’s own hips twitch in time with the metronome.

Haseul’s moans turn feral with every impact, and her pussy clenches tight with every strike. She keeps her head turned toward Heejin the whole time, watching the other doctor’s flushed, recovering face.

“Kiss me… please…” Haseul gasps between thrusts. “Her fingers… feel so… fucking good…”

Heejin whimpers in response, bending her head down to capture her lips as Jinsoul fucks Haseul with her digits. Jinsoul’s own thighs quiver harder now, the vibrator still buzzing inside her, but her voice never wavers.

“Nurse. Rub her clit.” Jinsoul commands. You move without question, sliding your hand between her thighs to find her clit, rubbing exactly on the beat, 100 per minute.

“Director—please—let me—” Haseul’s voice cracks, hips bucking wildly against the rhythm.

“No,” Jinsoul cuts her off sharply, still striking her ass. “You cum when the metronome—and I—say so. Not before.”

Jinsoul looks at you again, her eyes gleaming. “Keep going. Edge her. Make her beg for the tempo increase.”

You and Jinsoul maintain the strict 100 bpm — one thrust, one strike and one rub per tick, not one more, not one less. Haseul’s pleas grow louder, more broken.

“Jinsoul—please—I’ll do anything—turn it up—I need it faster—”

Jinsoul finally gives a small nod.

“Her heart rate is 140 now. Increasing to 140 BPM.” She taps the metronome and the ticks accelerate. You both match it instantly, striking jamming and rubbing into Haseul with purpose.

Haseul screams and shrieks immediately, her back arching violently, as her walls spasms around you in violent pulses. She squirts messily, soaking Jinsoul’s and your fingers, the table, the paper sheet beneath her. Her body shakes through the aftershocks with loud, ragged moans spilling out until she collapses forward, cheek pressed onto Heejin’s lap, panting.

Jinsoul peels off one glove slowly, snapping it inside-out and uses it to wipe a streak of Haseul’s release from your fingers.

She looks at the mess on the table, then at both doctors: Heejin still softly bound and flushed, Haseul wrecked and trembling.

“Acceptable,” she says coolly. “But we’re not done.”

She picks up the stethoscope again, presses the cold bell to your chest.

“150 bpm. Impressive. My obedient Nurse didn’t cum,” she smiles. “Let’s see how much more you can take before you break.” She steps closer, whispering into your ears. “Now it’s my turn to use you properly.”

Haseul’s thighs tremble, and her cheek is still pressed to the torn paper sheet.

Jinsoul steps back and walks to her desk. She slides her drawer open and reaches for something inside. It's a strap on. A long, curved eight-inched ribbed strap on. Your eyes widen when Jinsoul steps into it without hesitation, cinching the leather straps tight around her hips. The thick dildo justs forward, and her vibrator continues to buzz right between the dildo and her cunt.

She turns to all of you. “To your positions,” she orders calmly, despite the faint quiver in her own thighs. She walks to the IV pole and releases her from the cuffs. “Heejin — kneel on the table. Spread your legs wide, and body upright. Haseul — on your back, head right between Heejin’s face. Eat her fucking cunt.” She turns toward you. “And you… my Nurse. Right between Haseul’s thighs. Fuck her raw, deep, to the fucking beat.

Heejin moves first, her hands rubbing her wrists, loosening them from the tightness of the cuffs earlier. She follows exactly what Jinsoul says and kneels on the table. You haul Haseul that's still drunk from her high to position, stuffing her face right below Heejin’s dripping cunt, and force her thighs wide. Her ass is unbelievably red and swollen from Jinsoul’s smacking earlier, and you stand right in front of her, tenderly massaging the sensitive flesh.

Haseul’s tongue darts out immediately, making broad flat strokes against Heejin’s pussy before dipping her oral muscle deeper. Haseul trembles at the sensation and her legs slightly lose balance, pressing her weight down more onto Haseul's face.

You step forward, cock still throbbing from being denied release inside Heejin earlier.

Jinsoul says, “Enter her. Now. 140 BPM. Every thrust on the tick.”

You rub your tip at Haseul’s entrance, and push in on the next tick. HaSeul’s back arches, a ragged “fuck—yes—” spilling from her lips as you fill her completely. You don't go slow. 140 bpm as Jinsoul demands. You grab Haseul’s tight waist and pump into her, plunging your cock in and out at the required speed. Her moans are muffled against Heejin’s pussy, tongue flicking out, licking and eating Heejin continuously.

Jinsoul is already moving behind you. She grabs a large syringe from the desk draw and draws a thick, fresh load of clear lube. She presses her palm against your ass and says, “Stop. Hold still. This is your preparation.” She presses the cold plastic tip directly to your asshole and pushes the plunger slow. Chilly fluid floods your insides with heavy spurts. The thick and huge syringe slowly empties itself into your ass and you let out an uncontrolled shiver.

“Such a good nurse, taking every single drop.” She pumps you full, too much in fact, until excess lube drips down your crack and onto the floor in thick viscous strings. She throws the syringe and it clatters to the floor aside.

Then you feel her nudge something against your entrance — blunt and unyielding. It's the head of the strap on. Her gloved hands grip your hips, and thrusts in steadily and slowly, letting you feel every inch that stretches you open, finally bottoming out in you with a firm slap of the leather against your skin.

A low groan escapes your throat. “S-so full in me, Jinsoul…”

“Keep fucking Haseul,” she orders.”140 bpm. Don't break the rhythm.”

You push forward, pushing into Haseul on every tick. Every time you push into Haseul, you draw Jinsoul out of you, and each time you pull out of Haseul, Jinsoul drives forward into your ass, creating a chain of motion that sends your mind into a mush. Your cock goes in and out of Haseul. Jinsoul’s strap-on goes in and out of you.

Heejin moans louder, grinding down harder on Haseul’s face. Heejin is going crazy too. She moves her waist further down, and stuffs her ass onto Haseul’s tongue which works diligently — rimming, licking, dipping inside Heejin, while her own soft whimpers are muffled against HaSeul’s flesh.

Jinsoul leans over your back, one hand sliding up to fist your hair, yanking your head down.

“Bend,” she commands. “Eat Heejin. Now.”

You lower yourself and press your body against Haseul’s, your mouth finding Heejin’s still-sensitive cunt. Your tongue drags over her clit, flicking in a rhythm that is timed perfectly to the metronome. Heejin’s hips jerk upward as a muffled cry from Haseul vibrates against Heejin’s pussy.

The chain is complete:

You thrusting into Haseul on every beat.

Jinsoul pegging you from behind on every beat.

You eating Heejin’s cunt on every beat.

Haseul rimming Heejin on every beat.

The metronome rules everything as prescribed — 140 mechanical ticks per minute dictating every thrust, every lick, and every grind.

Heejin breaks first.

Her thighs clamp around Haseul’s head, back bowing violently.

“Fuck—Jinsoul—nurse—I’m—”

A feral scream tears out of her as she squirts again, sending messy, hot pulses soaking Haseul’s face and your chin.

HeeJin follows seconds later.

Her walls spasm wildly around your cock, milking you in violent waves as you pound into her throughout. She collapses forward, trembling, cheek still pressed between Heejin’s ass.

Jinsoul keeps pegging you through both orgasms, her own breath hitching slightly from the vibrator still buzzing inside her.

When the aftershocks fade, she slows, and then stops.

“Pull out,” she orders. “Both of you kneel on the floor in front of him. Faces up. Mouths open.”

Heejin and Haseul slide off the table with shaky legs, dropping to their knees side-by-side at the edge. Heejin’s face is flushed, glossy with sweat, and Haseul grins through Heejin's mess, tongue already out.

Jinsoul reaches over with her still inside of you and taps the metronome.

“160 bpm.”

The ticks accelerate.

She grips your hips again, and begins slamming into you. A precise and fast 160 beats per minute.

“Stroke,” she commands. “Match the beat. Every upstroke, every downstroke, exactly on the tick. Don’t you dare cum until I say.”

Your fist wraps around your cock and you grunt, pumping in perfect sync with her thrusts. The faster rhythm makes everything feel frantic, desperate. Precum beads at your tip, dripping onto the floor between Heejin and Haseul’s knees.

Jinsoul leans close and her lips brush over your ear. “Cum for them. All over my doctors’ faces.”

You keep pumping as you look down into Heejin’s and Haseul’s eyes. Their tongues are sticking out, and their expressions are like starved animals desperate for food.

Jinsoul tip-toes slightly as she pounds into you, the new angle perfectly hitting that mushy prostate inside of you. She taunts as your entire body begins to shake, “Look at him, my doctors. Look how I handle a Nurse. Look how I control and make him submit. Tell me what you want my precious doctors.”

“C-cum… I want his cum, Jinsoul.” Heejin mewls.

“Fuck him until he cums all over our faces, Jinsoul. Please.” Haseul begs.

“Very good. You heard them, Nurse.” Haseul says as she reaches up to flick both of your nipples. The metronome ticks relentlessly in the background. Your hand shakes as you pump, struggling to follow the beat as Jinsoul continues to ravage your ass, gaping you wide.

“P-please Jinsoul…” you moan.

“Please what?” She asks.

“P-please let me cum. Please let me cum all over the doctors’ pretty faces…” you beg.

You hear her snigger. “Then cum. Cum while I fuck you open. Now.”

The order shatters you.

Your orgasm hits hard and your cock pulses violently in your fist. Thick ropes shoot forward and the first splatters across Heejin’s cheek and lips. She flinches softly but keeps her mouth open, tongue catching the next spurt. Haseul opens wide, greedily taking heavy jets across her tongue and chin, swallowing with a satisfied hum.

You keep stroking through the aftershocks, and Jinsoul doesn’t stop thrusting in you at the same 160 bpm, milking every drop from you until both their faces are painted in messy, overlapping streaks.

Jinsoul rides out your spasms, grinding deep one final time before pulling out slowly. She steps back and removes the harness, letting it drop to the floor with a heavy thud.

The metronome is switched off with a single tap. Silence rushes in, but it is broken quickly by heavy breathing and the faint drip of lube out of your gaped ass onto the hardwood floor.

Jinsoul climbs onto the exam table, lies back, and spreads wide. She reaches down between her thighs, fingers closing around the small black egg vibrator still nestled inside her, pulling it free with a wet drag. Strings of slick clings to the toy as it vibrates, her droplets sprinkling all over the crinkled paper sheets below. She switches it off with a soft click and tosses it aside. The low buzzing dies instantly.

For the first time tonight, there is no metronome. No ticking. No prescribed rhythm.

Jinsoul lies back on the exam table with her legs spread wide and shows you her swollen pussy. Her entire thighs and groin is soaked, from her hours of edging and teasing. Her clit is visibly engorged, begging for attention.

She looks up at you, her composure finally cracking. Her chest rises and falls with uneven breaths, and her nipples are stiff against the thin black camisole.

“No more beats,” she growls. “No more metronome. No more waiting. Fuck me at your pace. Your speed. Your need. But you will not hold back. You will pound me until I lose control. Understand?”

You only nod, too scared to speak. But you will speak with your body.

She rolls onto her stomach and pushes up onto her hands and knees. She’s in the same position as Haseul earlier, on all fours, ass presented high, back arched deeply, wrists offered behind her like an invitation. She doesn't even say anything.

You move behind her. Your hands close around her wrists, fingers wrapping tight like reins. You pull back firmly, lifting her chest off the table, forcing her spine into a deeper curve. Her breasts sway forward with the motion, and a low, needy moan escapes her lips.

You slam in with one brutal thrust.

She gasps, her head dropping forward as you bottom out.

“Harder,” she demands, voice already fraying.

You stay silent. Your hips snap forward, plunging deep, punishing strokes that make the table creak beneath her. You pull her wrists back tighter, using them like handles to drive deeper with every impact. The wet slap of skin on skin fills the room. Her moans break free into a scream. Low at first, then louder, rougher. Every thrust from you shatters her usual iron composure.

Haseul and Heejin move without being told. Haseul slides to Jinsoul’s left — leaning in to kiss the side of her neck. She bites lightly, grazing her teeth on her skin, one hand slipping under her camisole to pinch and roll a stiff nipple. Heejin mirrors her on the right, her soft lips brushing Jinsoul’s shoulder, then trailing down to expose her breasts, using her tongue to circle the peak in slow, teasing swirls.

Jinsoul’s breath hitches and her hips push back desperately to meet your thrusts.

“Fuck—yes—don’t stop—”

You pound harder, pulling her wrists tighter, using the leverage to slam into her with bruising force. Her walls flutter wildly around you, and her slick drips down her thighs and onto the torn paper sheet. Her moans turn desperate.

After several minutes of relentless pounding, her composure falters.

“Enough—switch—”

You pull out. She rolls onto her back and swings one leg over your hip, straddling you in reverse-cowgirl. She sinks down onto your cock in one smooth, greedy drop, riding hard and fast, rolling her hips in circles. Her ass slaps against your thighs with every downward motion as she bounces on your length.

But midway through, her pace stutters again, and she falls backward onto your chest with a soft, surprised gasp.

You catch her hips instantly, digging your fingers into her soft flesh and lift her slightly, pistoning upward into her with deep, rapid thrusts. The new angle is brutal. Your cock grinds against her front wall on every stroke.

Haseul and Heejin close in again. Haseul kisses Jinsoul deeply, sliding her tongue in, claiming her mouth hungrily. One hand roams down Jinsoul’s body, teasing her clit in circles. Heejin leans in from the other side, kissing along Jinsoul’s jaw, then down to her breast. Her tongue flicks the nipple while her hand massages the other, rolling and pinching.

Jinsoul’s moans turn frantic. “Fuck—don’t stop—fill me—please—”

Her walls clamp down hard, spasming violently as her orgasm crashes through her. She cries out with a scream and her body shakes violently. Her pussy pulses around you that milk you relentlessly. Her slick floods out around your shaft and her thighs quiver uncontrollably.

You keep thrusting through it, chasing your own high.

“Jinsoul—fuck—I’m close—”

“In me—pump me full—with your syringe—fuck me full of your—prescription—"

You bury yourself to the hilt and cum. Thick, heavy ropes flood inside her, pumping again and again until it overflows, leaking out around your cock and dripping down your balls in creamy trails.

When the aftershocks finally fade, she lies limp against your chest, her sweat-slick skin pressed to yours.

Haseul and Heejin stay close, kissing her neck, stroking her sides, whispering soft murmurs of praise and teases against her ear.

Jinsoul finally lifts her head and smirks through the haze.

“Evaluation complete,” she gasps. “You’re all rehired… indefinitely.”

She clenches around your softening cock one last time before letting you slip free. Cum immediately trickles out of her, down her thigh, pooling onto the crinkled paper sheet beneath her.

“Clean up,” she says, her voice already back to that iron-willed tone as she reaches for a towel. “Then tomorrow, at the same time. Bring your toys. I want options.”