#hyewonsmut

But as she walked down the golden hallway toward the VIP area, the smell of expensive perfume and tobacco filled her nose. Her breathing became heavy and choppy. Her hands started to sweat, and a hollow feeling in her stomach made her tremble.

She stopped in front of the door to Private Room 4. The muffled thump of karaoke bass vibrated through the walls and straight into her chest. She closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath to calm the pulse hammering in her temples. She knew that once she opened that door, the "pure" and perfect Hyewon would officially die to make room for something much more visceral.

"You can do this..." she whispered, though her voice sounded small and vulnerable.

Slowly, she reached out and pushed the door open.

Hyewon froze in front of the mirror, her hand still hanging in the air as she tried to fix her strap. The silence of the dressing room was heavy, broken only by the distant hum of the AC and the faint sound of someone screaming a karaoke song in another room.

"When did this happen?" she thought.

She closed her eyes tight, and for a moment, she could almost feel the vibration of the stage beneath her feet. She remembered the blinding lights, the roar of thousands of people screaming her name, the feeling of absolute power as she walked wrapped in silks and glitters that cost more than her current monthly rent. Back then, she was untouchable. A polished jewel.

Her fingers slid over her own skin, moving from her neck down to the generous curve of her boobs, lightly squeezing the black fabric. The contrast was violent. Before, her body was a temple to be admired from afar; now, it was just a tool for survival.

"Shit..." she whispered, and a shiver ran down her spine.

She remembered the day the group disbanded. The void left by the silence. First came the minor contracts that never materialized, then the calls that stopped coming. Fame is a powerful drug, but withdrawal is lethal. She watched the months go by as her savings evaporated into a lifestyle she couldn't maintain and into helping a family that expected her to be an eternal financial pillar.

"I'm hungry," she thought with a bluntness that made her stomach churn. "Really hungry."

It wasn’t just food. It was the desperation of looking at her bank account and seeing red numbers while the world kept spinning as if she had never existed. The transition had been slow, then abruptly fast. From magazine covers to "immediate hire" classifieds in the gray areas of Seoul.

A small sob escaped her throat. Her shoulders shook, and a single tear rolled down her cheek, slightly smudging her perfect makeup. She looked herself dead in the eyes in the mirror; that spark of idol arrogance was gone. All that remained was raw vulnerability—a hunger for security that was pushing her toward the abyss.

"Are you still standing there admiring yourself or are you coming out?" The manager's voice cut in like a whip, breaking the trance.

Hyewon jumped, her chest bouncing violently under the satin. The movement was so sudden she felt the fabric rub against her hardened nipples, sending an electric jolt straight to her pussy, which was already starting to get wet from the mix of anxiety and humiliation.

"I... I'm sorry. I'm coming," she replied, her voice breaking as she quickly wiped the tear with the back of her hand.

The manager approached, her heels clicking like a sentence on the floor. She stopped right behind her, looking at Hyewon’s reflection in the mirror. The woman reached out and, without permission, squeezed Hyewon’s hip hard, digging her fingers into the soft, firm flesh of her ass.

"Stop acting pathetic, girl," the manager said in a cold tone. "The world doesn't owe you anything just because you were famous for three years. Now you're my employee. And your clients don't pay to see a sad idol; they pay to see a beautiful woman who knows how to use that body for pleasure."

Hyewon felt like she couldn't breathe. The pressure of the manager's fingers on her ass made her arch her back slightly, exposing more of her curves. A blush spread from her cheeks to her chest.

"Understood?" the woman pressed, letting go with a sharp push.

"Yes... understood," Hyewon murmured, looking down.

Her hands clenched into fists, gripping the dress. The psychological pain of the fall was intense, but the fear of going hungry again was stronger. She forced herself to straighten her back, feeling her boobs press against the square neckline, defying gravity.

"There's no turning back now," she told herself as her heart beat violently in her throat. "Just go in there and do it."

The manager gave her one last look, gauging the tension of her body and the moisture already subtly marking the black satin between her thighs.

Hyewon swallowed hard and began walking toward the VIP room, feeling like every step was another nail in the coffin of her old life.

Hyewon pushed open the door to Room 4 with a slowness that felt like torture. The air inside was different; it was saturated with the thick scent of expensive whiskey, premium tobacco, and that strong, dominant male smell that flooded her senses the moment she entered. The lights were dim, dominated by purple and blue neons that bathed the room in an unreal, almost dreamlike atmosphere.

In the center, sitting on a large black leather sofa, were the men. Four of them.

They didn’t move abruptly. They didn't shout. They simply stayed silent, watching her enter. Hyewon felt the air vanish from her lungs as four pairs of eyes scanned her with surgical precision—starting from her heels, moving up the sharp curve of her thighs, and stopping inevitably on the volume of her boobs that threatened to jump out of the dress.

"Wow..." one of them murmured—a middle-aged man with a gold watch that glinted under the neon light. "The photos didn't do her justice."

A violent shiver ran down Hyewon's neck. Her fingers gripped her small purse tightly, and her shoulders tensed. The silence that followed was suffocating. She could feel their stares weighing on her skin as if they were real hands touching her, stripping her layer by layer.

"Come in, don't just stand there," said another—a younger, thinner guy with a sharp gaze. "We've been waiting a while."

Hyewon walked toward the center of the room. Every step was an agony of self-consciousness. She knew the movement of her hips was accentuating the roundness of her ass under the black satin, and she knew that as she walked, her boobs bounced rhythmically in the neckline. She could hear the men's breathing becoming heavier, more focused.

"She's incredible," the third one commented, almost to himself. "Those features... that face. She looks like a porcelain doll. But the body... fuck, the body is a completely different story."

Hyewon swallowed hard. Her cheeks burned bright red and her heart hammered against her ribs with brutal force. They didn't mention her group name. They didn't say "You're Hyewon from IZ*ONE." But there was something in the way they looked at her—a mix of admiration and possessive hunger—that confirmed they knew exactly who she was. They were enjoying the fact that she, the untouchable idol, was here, vulnerable and dressed like a high-end whore for them.

"Do you like whiskey?" the man with the gold watch asked, pointing to an open bottle on the table. "Or do you prefer something sweeter... like you?"

Hyewon forced a weak smile, though her lips trembled slightly.

"Whatever you prefer," she murmured, her voice cracking.

"I like that she's obedient," the younger one said with a cynical smile. "I wonder if she was always this submissive on stage... or if it's only now that she needs the money."

The sentence hit like a physical blow. Hyewon felt a sting of humiliation pierce her chest, but at the same time, a treacherous reaction occurred in her belly. The fact of being exposed—of knowing they had seen through her mask and now had her cornered—caused a warm moisture to concentrate between her legs. Her nipples hardened violently against the fabric of the dress, subtly marking the satin.

"Look at her..." one of the men said, looking down at Hyewon's chest. "She's nervous. Look at how she breathes."

It was true. Her gasps were short and shallow. The volume of her boobs rose and fell rapidly, creating a visual spectacle that kept all four men hypnotized.

"Don't be afraid," the one with the gold watch continued, reaching out his hand but not touching her yet. "We spent a lot of time and money just to have this night with you. We don't want you to be scared... we want you to enjoy what we're going to do to you."

Hyewon felt a void in her stomach. The tension in the room was so thick it was almost tangible. She felt small, exposed, but at the same time, the raw look of desire from those men was waking something dark and forbidden inside her. Her pulse thundered in her ears and the wetness in her pussy became more evident, subtly soaking the G-string she wore under the dress.

"Sit down," the young man ordered, pointing to the empty space between him and the other man. "We want to see you up close. Very up close."

Hyewon obeyed, though every fiber of her body told her to run. She moved slowly, feeling their gazes nail themselves into the back of her thighs as she walked toward the sofa. As she sat between the two men, the black satin dress did exactly what the manager had predicted: it rode up her thighs, exposing an obscene amount of soft, white skin.

"Fuck..." the young man beside her whispered. "Look at how everything is outlined."

Hyewon felt the heat of the man's body brushing against her arm. The space was so tight that her hips inevitably bumped into theirs. She was trapped, flanked by two walls of flesh and expensive cologne. She could feel their hard thighs against hers, and that physical proximity sent an electric shock down her spine.

"You're shaking, gorgeous," the man with the gold watch commented from the other side, leaning in close enough for Hyewon to feel his hot breath on her ear. "Is it fear... or is it that you like us looking at you this way?"

Hyewon swallowed, her throat dry.

"No... I..." she tried to speak, but her voice came out as a thin thread.

"Shhh," the young man interrupted, reaching out to softly brush the curve of her shoulder. "Don't talk. Just let us admire you. We've spent months imagining this moment. Imagining what it would be like to have you here, no cameras, no managers... just us and you."

The man's hand didn't stay on her shoulder; it descended slowly, sliding down the curve of her arm to her waist. Hyewon let out an involuntary gasp when his fingers squeezed the flesh of her side firmly, digging in slightly.

"She's incredibly soft," the man murmured. "But what really kills me is this..."

Without warning, the young man slid his hand lower, landing with a blunt and possessive thud on Hyewon's thigh, right where the fabric of the dress ended. The pressure was strong, almost aggressive, and Hyewon instinctively arched her back, which pushed her boobs even further against the satin neckline.

"Fuuuck..." one of the other men watching from across said. "Look at those boobs bounce. Did you really hide them all this time? It's a crime to have had this body hidden under baggy clothes."

Hyewon felt the blush reach her neck. The humiliation of being analyzed like a piece of meat was intense, but her body was responding in a treacherous way. The constant rubbing, the pressure of the men at her sides, and the vulgar words were lighting a fire in her belly. She felt her pussy flip, and a surge of hot moisture soaked the G-string she had on, sticking to her skin.

"She's soaking," the young man said with a malicious smile, though he couldn't see it. "I can smell it from here. The scent of an aroused woman is way better than any perfume."

Hyewon closed her eyes, clenching her fists on her knees. Her nipples were so hard she felt like they were going to pierce through the fabric. Every time she breathed, the rub of the satin against her tips gave her chills that ended in a sting of forbidden pleasure between her legs.

"Tell me the truth, Hyewon," the man with the gold watch whispered, bringing his hand toward her neckline, barely brushing the top of her chest with his knuckles. "Does it turn you on that we know who you are? Do you like knowing that right now we own your time... and your body?"

Hyewon couldn't answer. She could only let out a muffled moan as she felt the man with the gold watch slide his hand down slightly, brushing the top of one of her boobs. The contact was electric. Hyewon felt her pulse accelerate violently and her breathing become erratic, turning into short gasps.

"Look at how she trembles," the young man beside her laughed, squeezing her thigh harder. "She's desperate for more. She just needs a little push to break."

Hyewon felt like she was on the edge of an abyss. The desire to please them to secure the money mixed with a visceral, raw need to be touched. She was trapped in a circle of men who desired her as a trophy, and the worst part was that she was starting to enjoy the feeling of being completely their property.

The man with the gold watch pulled away slightly, but not to give her space—he was reaching for the sound system on the table. Hyewon felt air return to her lungs for a second, but that relief was short-lived. The click of the button echoed in the room and suddenly, the first elegant, vibrant chords of "La Vie en Rose" began to fill the space.

Hyewon froze. It was her debut song. The song that marked the start of her rise to the top, the piece where everything was flowers, sophistication, and a perfection choreographed to the millimeter in front of millions of people. Hearing it now, in this luxury hole surrounded by hungry men, was like a slap across the face. The contrast between the bright pop melody and the dark, vicious atmosphere of the room was almost unbearable.

"Come on, gorgeous," the young man beside her said, giving her a soft but firm push on the hip to force her up. "We want to see that dance. But we don't want the TV version. We don't want that clean and perfect choreography where nobody touches."

Hyewon stood up slowly. The black satin dress clung to her curves like a second skin, marking every inch of her waist and the roundness of her ass as she straightened up. Her legs trembled slightly, and her hands instinctively sought to cover her chest, but the man with the gold watch stopped her with a cold gaze.

"Hands down," he ordered. "We want to see everything. Dance for us... like a woman who knows she needs every cent on this table."

"My God..." Hyewon thought, feeling her heart hammering in her ears.

The shame hit her hard, but at the same time, the predatory gaze of the four men acted as fuel. She placed herself in the center of the small open space of the room, surrounded by them. As the rhythm of "La Vie en Rose" built and the song began to unfold its energy, Hyewon started to move.

At first, her steps were mechanical, following the exact lines of the original choreography. But soon she felt the atmosphere dragging her down. As the beat became more intense, Hyewon started to distort the steps on purpose. Instead of the ethereal elegance of an idol, she let her hips sway with an obscene, heavy amplitude.

"That's it!" one of the men shouted. "Look at how she moves that ass! Fuuuck, it's way bigger than it looked in the photos."

Hyewon felt a spark of excitement hearing the vulgarity. She closed her eyes and let the music become a purely carnal rhythm. She began to lower her torso slowly, arching her back while her boobs bounced violently under the fabric of the dress. Every movement was a betrayal of her past and a total surrender to the present; the black satin slid up and down her thighs, giving the men a privileged view of her tight white skin.

"Look at those boobs..." the young man whispered, who was now standing right behind her. "They're jumping like they want to escape the dress. I wonder if they're as hot as they look."

Hyewon let out a muffled moan when she felt the man's hot breath on her neck. She didn't stop. On the contrary, she began to turn on her heels, deliberately brushing her ass against the young man's thigh. The contact was electric. She felt his hard dick against her backside and a violent shiver ran through her entire body.

"Oh, yes..." Hyewon gasped, losing her composure. "Ahhh..."

It was no longer choreography; it was a ritual of raw seduction. Her movements became dirtier, slower, and heavier, transforming the elegance of the debut into something viscerally erotic. She began to rub her hips against the air, imagining she was on top of one of them, while her nipples, hardened to the max, pierced through the dress with every rhythmic shake.

"You're totally turned on, aren't you?" said the man with the gold watch, approaching and circling her like a predator. "Look at your face... you're enjoying us looking at you like a whore. You're soaking, Hyewon. I can see it in your eyes."

Hyewon opened her eyes and looked at the man with a mix of desperation and desire. Her cheeks were bright red and her breathing was a constant gasp—short and shallow. Sweat began to bead on her forehead and neck, making the dress cling even more to her curves, highlighting the moisture already marking her thighs.

"Please..." she whispered, though she didn't even know what she was asking for.

The dance reached its peak just as "La Vie en Rose" hit its musical climax. Hyewon dropped into a deep, slow squat, facing them with her chest exposed and her ass raised toward the ceiling. The position was humiliating and perfect. Her boobs were crushed against the neckline, almost overflowing from the pressure of her body, and her breathing was a broken wheeze that filled the room.

"Enough dancing," the young man behind her declared, placing his hands firmly on her shoulders and pushing her down. "Now it's time for you to thank us for our patience."

Hyewon felt the cold floor of the Noraebang hit her knees with a dull thud. The impact left her disoriented for a second, but the pressure of the young man's hands on her shoulders didn't let her recover; he kept her there, kneeling in total submission before the four men.

The silence that followed the end of the song was grave, broken only by Hyewon’s erratic and heavy breathing. Her boobs rose and fell violently; the satin of the dress was so tight it looked like it would rip at any moment. She could feel the heat emanating from the bodies surrounding her—an atmosphere charged with testosterone and animal desire.

"Look at her," the man with the gold watch said, his voice now huskier. "Look at that face. She looks like an angel fallen in the mud."

The metallic sound of a zipper opening was heard. It was a small noise, but in the silence of the room it sounded like a gunshot. Hyewon looked up and saw the man with the gold watch release his dick, which sprang forward, hard and throbbing, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.

"Use that mouth, Hyewon," he ordered in a tone that didn't allow for discussion. "Forget about the microphones and the cameras. Now the only sound I want to hear are your gasps while you suck me dry."

Hyewon felt her heart skip a beat. The initial fear was replaced by an electric jolt that went straight to her pussy, which was already so wet that the satin felt sticky against her skin. The vulgarity of the order and the image of the hard dick in front of her eyes made her salivate involuntarily.

She approached slowly, her lips trembling. When she was close enough, the smell of man and arousal flooded her nostrils. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling her own breath hit the hot skin of the member.

"Don't stop now..." whispered the young man behind her, who had moved his hands from her shoulders to squeeze her boobs hard, digging his fingers into the soft, firm flesh. "Open your mouth wide and show them how much you need this money."

Hyewon let out a muffled moan at the squeeze on her chest and, surrendered, opened her mouth. She wrapped her lips around the tip of the dick, feeling the smooth but firm texture and the salty taste that instantly flooded her tongue.

"Fuuuuck..." groaned the man with the gold watch, throwing his head back as his fingers dug into Hyewon's hair to direct the rhythm. "Yes, like that... suck me like a hungry whore."

Hyewon began to suction hard, letting herself be carried by instinct and need. Her cheeks hollowed as she wrapped her mouth around the member as deeply as she could, feeling the dick hit the back of her throat. The sound of the suction—wet and rhythmic—filled the room, mixing with the gasps of the other men watching the scene with almost unbearable excitement.

"God, look at how she does it..." one of them commented in a broken voice. "She has an incredible tongue. Look at how it moves around the head."

Hyewon felt the heat of the man's body against her face and the pressure of the young man on her boobs, which were now being squeezed and molded roughly. She was trapped between physical pleasure and psychological humiliation, but the more she did it, the more she got turned on. Her pussy throbbed rhythmically, sending waves of heat through her body every time she felt the dick filling her mouth.

"It's not enough," the young man intervened, letting go of her boobs only to unzip his own pants. "We can't let her stay with just one. I want to feel that tongue on my dick too."

Hyewon felt a sting of panic mixed with visceral desire when the second dick appeared in front of her, hard and ready. The man with the gold watch didn't pull back; instead, he stayed firm while the second man positioned himself.

"Open your mouth wider, gorgeous," the young man ordered, pushing his member against her lips while she still had the first dick in her throat. "I want to see if you can handle two at once. I want to see how you choke on us while you make us come."

Hyewon let out a guttural sound—a mix of a gasp and a protest that ended up being a moan of pleasure. Her eyes were clouded with desire and submission. She gave herself over to the act, moving her head frantically between the two members, tasting the hot metallic flavor, while her own hands instinctively went down to her thighs, gripping the fabric of the dress in a desperate attempt to calm the fire burning between her legs.

The air in the room was so thick you could taste the sex and sweat floating in the environment. Hyewon was totally gone, eyes rolling back and breathing reduced to short gasps as she moved between the men's members. The sensation of having her throat full and her face stained with saliva and pre-cum had taken her into a trance where nothing existed but raw pleasure and humiliation.

"I'm close... fuuuck, I'm coming!" roared the man with the gold watch.

Hyewon felt the violent spasm in her mouth just as a hot, thick surge hit the back of her throat. She swallowed by instinct, feeling the viscous texture slide down her esophagus, while the young man beside her also reached his limit, ejaculating forcefully across her cheeks and lips.

"Look at this mess..." the third man said, laughing with a husky voice. "Look at the perfect idol, covered in cum."

Hyewon stayed kneeling for a moment, gasping, her chest rising and falling violently. Her lips were glistening with fluids and her gaze was lost. She felt her pussy throbbing with painful force; she was so wet that the G-string was like a sticky second skin causing an electric rub with every small movement.

"Enough games," the young man said, grabbing her arm roughly and pulling her up. "Now I want to see all this body the manager sold us."

Without giving her time to react, the man yanked at the black satin dress. There was a sharp sound—the tearing of fine fabric that couldn't withstand the force of the pull. The dress ripped open from the neckline to the waist, exposing her large, white boobs to the cold air of the room. Hyewon let out a muffled scream, trying to cover herself with her hands, but two pairs of hands grabbed her wrists, forcing her arms wide open.

"Shit... they're huge," one of them whispered, hypnotized. "Look at how they swing."

Under the purple neon lights, Hyewon's body looked like a stained porcelain sculpture. Her boobs were voluminous, with hardened dark nipples pointing forward, vibrating slightly from her body's tremors. The young man looked down and, with a quick movement, ripped away the little underwear she had left, leaving her legs totally exposed.

"She's dripping..." commented the man with the gold watch, leaning in to observe her pussy. "Look at how much juice this whore has let out. She's completely soaked."

Hyewon felt the blush consume her entire body. Her legs shook so hard she could barely stand. The chill of the AC hitting her wet skin made her shiver, but the predatory gaze of the four men kept her anchored to the spot.

"Put her on the table," the leader ordered.

Hyewon was pushed forward. Her palms hit the cold, polished surface of the VIP table with a dull thud. They forced her to arch her back, putting her in a position that left her round, firm ass completely exposed, rising up like an obscene invitation.

"Fuuuuck... what an incredible ass," groaned the young man, approaching from behind.

Hyewon felt the pressure of a hard dick hitting against her cheeks. She let out a long, desperate moan, burying her face in the surface of the table. The initial rub was electric; she felt like her pussy was on fire, screaming to be filled.

"You want me to fuck you, right, Hyewon?" the man whispered in her ear while his fingers squeezed her boobs hard from above. "Do you want to feel a group of men break you while you remember you used to be a star?"

"Y... yes... please... fuck me!" she screamed, losing any trace of dignity.

The young man didn't wait any longer. With no lubricant other than Hyewon's own excessive wetness, he pushed in hard. The penetration was visceral and abrupt. Hyewon let out a shriek that echoed through the room as she felt the member fill her completely, stretching her vaginal walls to the limit.

"Aghhh! Fuuuck!" she gasped, clenching her teeth while her body shook under the impact.

The rhythm became frantic. The sound of skin hitting skin—the blunt slap of the pubis against her ass—filled the room, mixing with deep gasps and dirty talk.

"Look at how she moves! She's absorbing everything!" one of them shouted as he leaned in to kiss and lick her neck, while another squeezed her boobs roughly, molding the white flesh violently.

Hyewon was in heaven and hell at the same time. She felt her mind fragmenting with every deep thrust that forced her to arch more and more. Her nipples rubbed against the surface of the table, and the constant friction was leading her toward a climax she couldn't control.

"Harder! Fuck me harder!" she begged, her voice broken and eyes clouded by forbidden pleasure.

The sound in the room was deafening; it wasn't music, but the animal rhythm of flesh hitting flesh. Slap. Slap. Slap. The blunt strike of the young man's pubis against Hyewon's buttocks resonated in every thrust, a visceral echo that vibrated through her whole body.

Hyewon had her face crushed against the cold leather of the table, her fingers scratching the surface while she let out broken moans. She felt the member piercing through her completely, reaching deep points she had never explored. Each stroke forced her to arch further, making her boobs bounce violently against the table, hitting the surface in a frantic rhythm that sent electric shocks straight to her brain.

"God, you're squeezing like you want to swallow my whole dick!" the young man groaned, accelerating the pace into a machine-gun of thrusts. "Tell me who you are now, whore! Tell me you're no idol!"

"I'm nothing! I'm yours! Aghhh... fuck me harder!" Hyewon screamed, her voice completely shot.

The humiliation was the final fuel. Knowing she was there, naked and vulnerable, being used as a toy by four men who had saved up just to break her, triggered one last wave of excitement that left her blind. Her pussy felt like an oven, clenching the member with involuntary spasms as pleasure dragged her into the abyss.

At that moment, the man with the gold watch positioned himself in front of her. He grabbed her face hard, forcing her to lift her head and look him in the eye. His gaze was cold and possessive. Without a word, he pushed his hard, throbbing dick against Hyewon's lips.

"Open your mouth," he ordered. "I don't want there to be a single inch of you that isn't being filled by us."

Hyewon obeyed instantly. While the young man destroyed her from behind, she wrapped the leader's member in her mouth, creating a bridge of pleasure and total submission. She was trapped between two dicks, feeling the pressure at both ends of her body. The world shrunk to pure sensations: the salty taste on her tongue, the brutal friction in her vagina, and the pressure of the other men's hands squeezing her boobs roughly, leaving red marks on the white skin.

"Look at her!" one of the others exclaimed. "She's totally broken! She's enjoying us using her as a hole!"

Hyewon couldn't answer; she could only make guttural sounds while suctioning desperately, eyes rolling back and saliva running from the corners of her lips. The rhythm behind her reached the critical point. The young man began giving short, violent thrusts, burying himself to the hilt in every hit.

"I'm coming! I'm coming inside you, whore!" he roared.

Hyewon felt the first hot surge firing against the walls of her uterus. It was an electric impact that made her entire body shudder. At the same time, the man in her mouth let out a husky groan and ejaculated forcefully, filling her throat with thick, hot semen.

The combination was too much. Hyewon felt her own body collapse. A violent and prolonged orgasm shook her from her toes to her hair; her vaginal walls contracted in frantic spasms around the young man's dick, while she let out a muffled scream against the leader's mouth. Her boobs vibrated one last time before her strength completely vanished.

She stayed there, slumped over the table, gasping with her mouth open and eyes clouded. She felt the semen slowly trickling down her thighs and the dead weight of her own body against the cold surface. Silence returned to the room, broken only by the heavy breathing of the five people present.

The young man withdrew slowly, leaving Hyewon to let out a moan of emptiness as the member slid out of her with a wet sound.

"Well..." whispered the man with the gold watch, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and looking at her with a mix of contempt and satisfaction. "It was really worth every cent."

The sound of a stack of bills being thrown on the table was heard, right next to Hyewon's head. The money landed with a dull thud—an exorbitant sum that glowed under the purple neon lights.