#yeonji

"Yeonji," I say, my voice low, controlled. "Come here."

She hesitates, her eyes darting to the side, and that tiny rebellion makes my blood heat. The audacity. The sheer fucking audacity.

I cross the patio in three long strides, grab her by the wrist, and yank her toward me. She stumbles, letting out a soft gasp, and I drag her through the back door, through the living room, straight to the bedroom. She knows what's coming. I can feel her trembling under my grip.

"Please," she whispers. "I didn't mean to—"

"Shut up."

I toss her onto the bed. She lands with a bounce, her shorts riding up, exposing the smooth skin of her thighs. I'm on her before she can scramble away, my knee pressing into the mattress between her legs, my hand wrapping around her throat. Not hard enough to cut off air. Just enough to remind her who owns her.

"Did you think you could ignore me?" I growl, my thumb pressing into the soft hollow of her collarbone. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

Tears well in her eyes. Good. I love that look—the fear, the submission, the knowledge that she's completely at my mercy.

I rip the camisole down, the fabric tearing, her small tits spilling out. I don't bother with the bow. I just grab her left tit, squeezing hard, kneading the soft flesh until she whimpers. My other hand shoves up her shorts, past the waistband of her panties, finding her pussy already wet. Fucking slut. She's always wet for me, even when she's scared.

"Look at you," I mutter, sliding two fingers inside her cunt without warning. She arches her back, a strangled cry escaping her lips. "Soaking my fingers. You love this, don't you? You love being used."

I fuck her with my fingers, hard and fast, the wet sounds filling the room. Her legs start to shake, her thighs quivering as I curl my fingers, pressing against that spot that makes her see stars. She's close—I can feel her clenching around me—but I pull out before she can come. Not yet. I'm not done with her.

I flip her over, shoving her face into the mattress. Her shorts and panties come off in one rough yank, leaving her bare, her ass in the air. I spread her cheeks with both hands, exposing her tight little hole, and I spit on it. She shudders, and I press my thumb against her asshole, pushing in slow, watching her body tense.

"Please," she gasps, her voice muffled by the sheets. "It hurts—"

"I know."

I work my thumb deeper, stretching her, while my other hand reaches around to finger her pussy from behind. Two fingers in her cunt, thumb in her ass, and she's shaking, her legs giving out, her whole body trembling. I press down on her lower back, keeping her pinned, and I fuck her with both hands until she's sobbing, drooling into the mattress.

The first orgasm hits her like a wave. She cries out, her pussy clenching around my fingers, her asshole tightening around my thumb. I don't stop. I keep fucking her through it, overstimulating her, until she's begging me to stop.

"You don't get to tell me to stop," I say, pulling my fingers out and shoving them into her mouth. "Suck."

She does. She licks my fingers clean, her own juices coating her tongue, and I watch her with a cold satisfaction. I pull my hand away, grab her by the hair, and drag her to the edge of the bed. I sit down, pulling her over my lap, her bare ass in the air.

The first spank lands hard, and she yelps. The second leaves a red handprint. The third makes her sob. I spank her until her ass is bright red, hot to the touch, and she's crying into the carpet. I don't stop until I'm satisfied, and then I reach for my belt.

The buckle clinks as I slide it out of the loops. She hears it, and she starts begging, pleading, but I ignore her. I fold the belt in half, the leather heavy in my hand, and I bring it down across her ass.

The crack echoes through the room. A red line appears on her skin. She screams.

I whip her again. And again. And again. Each strike leaves a mark, a welt, a reminder of who she belongs to. By the time I'm done, her ass is a mess of red and purple stripes, and she's weeping, her body limp over my lap.

"Get up," I say.

She can't. Her legs are too weak, her body too broken. So I grab her by the waist, haul her up, and carry her to the pool. She's limp in my arms, her head lolling, her body covered in sweat and marks. I can feel her heart pounding against my chest.

I step into the water, the cold shocking her awake. She squirms, trying to push away, but I hold her tight. I walk deeper, until the water reaches my chest, and then I dunk her.

She thrashes, her arms flailing, bubbles rising. I hold her under for five seconds before pulling her up. She gasps, coughing, choking on water. I wait for her to catch her breath, and then I dunk her again.

This time, I hold her longer. Ten seconds. Fifteen. Her movements grow weaker, her struggles fading. When I pull her up, she's barely conscious, her eyes fluttering, her lips blue.

I drag her to the edge of the pool, my body pressing her against the tile. The water laps at her waist, and I spread her legs, positioning myself between them. I shove my cock into her pussy, and she moans, a weak, pathetic sound that makes me harder.

I fuck her in the water, my hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing just enough to cut off her air. She gasps, her eyes rolling back, her legs wrapping around my waist. The water sloshes around us, and I pound into her, using her, taking what's mine.

"You're nothing," I hiss in her ear. "You're nothing without me. I made you. I own you. And if you ever try to leave me, I'll destroy you. I'll leak every video, every photo, every dirty little secret you've ever told me. You'll be ruined. Your career, your life, everything."

She's crying, her tears mixing with the pool water. Her body is shaking, convulsing, as another orgasm rips through her. She comes on my cock, her pussy clenching, and I keep fucking her, using her pleasure against her.

I carry her back to the bedroom, her body limp and wet, and I lay her on the bed. She's half-conscious, her eyes glazed, her lips parted. I take her again, this time from behind, my hand fisted in her hair, yanking her head back as I fuck her ass. She's too weak to resist, too broken to do anything but take it.

I come inside her, filling her, marking her. And when I'm done, I roll off, leaving her there, a crumpled mess on the sheets.

She's not moving. Her breathing is shallow, her body covered in bruises and welts. I reach for the small bottle of pills in my pocket, the ones I slipped into her drink earlier. They're already in her system, making her pliant, compliant, easy to use.

I lean over her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I love you," I whisper. "You know that, right? I do this because I love you. Because you're mine."