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The donkey boiler hummed behind Tzuyu’s knees, its rhythmic clatter drowning out the distant chatter of Seoul traffic. She traced a finger over the crumpled invitation on her lap, its embossed lettering catching the fluorescent light of the cramped practice room. "Unnie," she said, voice slicing through Momo’s stretching grunts. "Are we really performing at Victoria’s Secret?"

Jihyo paused mid-squat, sweat glistening on her forehead. She snatched a towel, avoiding Tzuyu’s gaze. "Only four spots." The words hung heavy, unspoken implications tightening the air. Nayeon stopped fiddling with her phone, her reflection in the mirror sharp with curiosity. 

Tzuyu’s thumb brushed the invitation’s edge. Her boyfriend’s face flashed in her mind—his laugh when she’d tripped during rehearsal last week. This performance wasn’t just glitter and wings; it was a secret weapon. She pictured his stunned smile when she’d stride out in sequins, then later, the Victoria’s Secret bikini tucked in her drawer.

The manager’s footsteps echoed down the hall before he entered, clipboard in hand. "Decision’s made," he announced, eyes scanning Jihyo’s defiant posture, Momo’s toned shoulders, Nayeon’s pout, Tzuyu’s hopeful stillness. "Jihyo, Momo, Nayeon, Tzuyu. Fittings start Thursday." Tzuyu’s breath escaped in a soft rush. Momo grinned, cracking her knuckles. Nayeon squealed, already reaching for her phone. Jihyo just nodded, towel crumpled in her fist.

Later, Tzuyu’s apartment smelled faintly of takeout kimchi and sex. Her boyfriend traced lazy circles on her bare shoulder, the sheets tangled low on his hips. Tzuyu nestled deeper into the warmth of his chest, sticky and spent, the quiet hum of Seoul filtering through the blinds. His hand drifted lower, fingers brushing the damp mess cooling between her thighs. She caught his wrist gently. "Oppa," she murmured, voice thick with fatigue and affection. "I have work in America... October 15th."

His fingers stilled. "America?" He shifted, propping himself up on an elbow. The soft light caught the confusion in his eyes. "What kind of work?" Tzuyu kept her gaze fixed on the ceiling, the intimacy suddenly fragile. "A performance," she whispered, the enormity of the Victoria’s Secret secret pressing down on her tongue. "A big one." His silence stretched, heavy with unasked questions. She felt the warmth of his skin pull away slightly, replaced by a cool draft against her side.

"It’s... fashion," Tzuyu offered weakly, scrambling for a truth that wasn’t *the* truth. Her hand found his forearm, squeezing gently. "I promise you will like it," she murmured, turning her head to meet his eyes. A hesitant smile touched her lips. "But I can't tell you. I want to surprise you." The plea hung in the air – *trust me*. His brow furrowed, a flicker of hurt quickly masked by curiosity. He studied her face, searching for clues in the flush still high on her cheeks. "A surprise?" he echoed, his voice low.

He understood the secrecy; idols lived behind NDAs thicker than stage makeup. He’d seen her in everything from schoolgirl uniforms to shimmering crop tops on music shows. This felt different, though. The sudden trip, the hushed intensity in her voice, the way her gaze darted away. He traced the curve of her collarbone with a single fingertip. "Okay," he conceded slowly, pulling her closer again, the warmth returning tentatively. "A fashion surprise in America." A playful skepticism tinged his words.

His lips brushed her temple, then trailed down to her ear. His voice dropped, rough and intimate against her skin. "Before you go… let’s fuck until we drop." The bluntness sent a jolt through her, familiar heat pooling low in her belly. He knew how to chase away doubts, replacing them with pure sensation.

Tzuyu turned fully towards him, her eyes dark and direct in the dim light. Her hand slid possessively down his chest, nails grazing lightly over skin still damp from earlier exertion. "You don't have to ask," she murmured, her voice a low thrum that vibrated against him. "I was going to do that with you anyway." A slow, deliberate smile spread across her lips. "This time," she breathed, her fingers tightening on his hip, pulling him against her, "you can ejaculate inside me until I'm full." Her gaze locked onto his, unwavering, commanding. "I'll be your slut tonight. Use me however you want."

He didn't hesitate. His hands gripped her hips, flipping her onto her stomach with a swift, practiced motion. Her breath caught sharply as her cheek pressed into the pillow, her body arching instinctively. The sudden shift left her exposed, vulnerable. His palm slid firmly down the curve of her spine, tracing the dip of her waist before settling possessively on the swell of her ass. He pulled her hips back towards him, angling her perfectly. The blunt head of his cock pressed against her slick entrance, already swollen and sensitive from their previous coupling. A low groan escaped him as he pushed forward, sinking into her tight heat in one deep, deliberate stroke. The sudden, overwhelming fullness made Tzuyu gasp, her fingers clutching the sheets beneath her.

His hand lifted, hovering for a heartbeat above the flushed skin of her buttock. Then it came down hard – a sharp, stinging crack that echoed in the quiet room. Tzuyu cried out, a sharp, involuntary sound that wasn't pain alone. It was surprise, surrender, an electric jolt straight to her core. "Again," she gasped, her voice thick and ragged, muffled slightly by the pillow. "Give me that slap." She pushed her hips back further, inviting him deeper, demanding more. "Harder." The command was clear, edged with a raw need that surprised even her.

He obliged instantly. Another sharp smack landed on the other cheek, the sound louder this time, the sting blooming hotter. Her body jerked against him, but she held her position, pushing back against the force, driving him impossibly deeper inside her. "Yes!" she moaned, the word drawn out into a shuddering sigh. "Fucking harder! Use it!" Each slap punctuated his thrusts, the sharp pain amplifying the deep, rhythmic pleasure coiling tighter and tighter within her. Her words tumbled out, unfiltered, hungry: "Mark me... make me feel it tomorrow... show me who I belong to tonight." Her voice wasn't coy or playful; it was primal, demanding, a stark contrast to the idol persona locked away outside these walls.

"You are a slut, Tzuyu," he growled, his breath hot against her shoulder blade, his hips pistoning relentlessly. His fingers dug into the flesh he’d just struck, possessive and bruising. "My slut. Only mine." The degradation wasn't cruel; it was a fierce claim, a dark mirror to her own surrender. It stripped away everything but the raw, consuming connection between them.

"Yours!" she gasped, turning her head sideways against the pillow, her cheek pressing into the damp cotton. Her eyes met his reflection in the dark window pane – wild, desperate. "Only yours, Oppa! Fuck... you feel so good... so thick... stretching me..." The dirty talk flowed freely now, crude and explicit, each filthy syllable feeding the fire. "Your cock's perfect... filling me up... wrecking me..." She arched her spine further, presenting herself completely, inviting the relentless pounding. "Make me scream... make me come... just... fuck..."

He groaned, a low rumble vibrating through her body. "So fucking tight," he praised, the words rough with exertion and awe. His hand slid from her hip, fingers tangling roughly in her hair, pulling her head back sharply. "Take it all, slut. Take every fucking inch." The rhythm became punishing, each deep drive accompanied by the wet slap of skin. He watched her face contort in the dim reflection – eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a silent cry before another choked moan escaped. "That's it," he rasped, his own control fraying. "Beg for it. Beg for my cum." Tzuyu didn't hesitate. "Please!" she cried out, her voice cracking. "Inside... fill me... breed me... please!" The plea tore from her throat, raw and absolute, shattering the last vestiges of restraint. His grip tightened, his thrusts lost their rhythm, becoming frantic, urgent jerks. A guttural roar tore from him as he slammed home one final time, burying himself to the hilt, his body shuddering violently against hers as he emptied himself deep inside her trembling body. Tzuyu convulsed beneath him, her own climax crashing over her in blinding waves, muffled cries escaping into the pillow as she clenched around him, milking every last pulse.

He stayed buried inside her for a long moment, both panting, slick skin pressed together. Then, without pulling out, he hooked his arms under her knees, lifting her effortlessly. Tzuyu gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist instinctively as he carried her, still impaled, towards the large window overlooking the sleeping city. He pressed her back against the cool glass, the condensation forming instantly against her heated skin. "Look," he commanded, his voice thick and possessive. "Look at Seoul. Everyone asleep... everyone oblivious." He began moving again, slow, deep rolls of his hips that made her gasp against the pane. "But you," he murmured, biting her earlobe, "you're wide awake. Taking my cock against the glass like the perfect little slut you are." The vulnerability, the exposure despite the darkness outside, sent a fresh jolt of heat through her. She arched into him, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Yes," she hissed, watching their blurred reflection move against the city lights. "Fuck your slut against the window... show everyone..." Her words dissolved into a moan as he drove deeper, the glass vibrating faintly with each thrust.

Later, sweat cooling on their skin, he lay back against the pillows. Tzuyu straddled him, her silhouette stark in the dim light filtering through the blinds. She lowered herself slowly, taking him inch by inch, her eyes locked on his. Her movements were deliberate, powerful – a slow grind punctuated by sharp lifts and drops that drew ragged groans from him. "Ride me," he growled, his hands gripping her hips, guiding her rhythm. "Show me how much you need it." Tzuyu threw her head back, a low hum building in her throat as she moved, her body a fluid wave above him. "So good," she breathed, her voice husky with exertion and pleasure. "So deep... filling me again..." She leaned forward, planting her hands on his chest, her hair falling around her face. "Tell me," she demanded, increasing her pace, driving down hard. "Tell me how good your slut feels." He groaned, his fingers digging into her flesh. "Perfect," he gasped. "Champion fucking rider... taking every inch like you were made for it." The praise, raw and sincere amidst the filth, ignited her. She rode him harder, faster, chasing her own peak with fierce determination, her cries sharpening until she shuddered violently, collapsing forward onto his chest as her climax ripped through her.

He rolled her onto her side, facing him, tangling their legs together. One hand slid beneath her thigh, lifting it high over his hip, opening her completely as he pressed back inside. The angle was intimate, invasive, his thrusts deep and slow, grinding against her core. Tzuyu gasped, her fingers clutching his shoulders. "Oh god... right there..." she whimpered, her eyes wide, vulnerable. He kissed her fiercely, swallowing her moans. "Look at me," he commanded against her lips. "Look at me while I fuck you." Her gaze locked onto his, dark and desperate. He moved with deliberate intensity, each stroke hitting a spot that made her toes curl. "Such a good girl," he murmured, his voice rough with affection layered over possession. "Taking it so deep... so perfect for me." Tzuyu arched into him, her nails scraping down his back. "Yours," she gasped, the word breaking on a sob. "Always yours... fuck me... claim me..." He buried his face in her neck, his thrusts becoming urgent, possessive. "My perfect slut," he breathed into her skin. "Mine to fill... mine to ruin..."

He pulled her upright onto her knees, her back pressed flush against his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, one hand sliding down to cup her mound, fingers finding her clit instantly. Tzuyu cried out, arching back against him as he entered her from behind again, his cock driving deep while his fingers worked her sensitive flesh. The dual sensation was overwhelming, dizzying. "Fuck... fuck..." she chanted, her head lolling back onto his shoulder. His lips traced the shell of her ear. "Feel that?" he growled, his hips snapping forward, driving into her relentlessly while his fingers circled and pressed. "Feel how deep I am? How hard you're coming for me?" Tzuyu could only nod frantically, her body trembling, suspended on the edge. "Yes!" she managed, her voice a ragged scream. "So deep... so full... don't stop! Make me come!" His fingers intensified their pressure, his thrusts became brutal, piston-like. "Come for me, slut," he commanded, biting her shoulder. "Scream my name... let Seoul hear who owns this cunt." The command, the sheer intensity, shattered her. Tzuyu convulsed violently against him, a raw, guttural cry tearing from her throat as her climax crashed over her, wave after wave, her inner muscles clamping down on him in frantic pulses.

Exhaustion hit Tzuyu like a physical blow. She slumped forward onto the mattress, her breath ragged and shallow, lungs burning. Sweat plastered strands of hair to her forehead and neck, cooling rapidly on her overheated skin. Every inch of her felt tenderized, marked – deep red handprints bloomed across her buttocks and thighs, a constellation of purple-red kiss marks covered her shoulders, neck, and breasts. Her pussy throbbed, swollen and vividly red, slick with a mixture of her own arousal and his spent cum, which seeped out onto the sheets beneath her. Her muscles trembled with residual aftershocks, utterly spent. Behind her, her boyfriend collapsed heavily onto the bed, pulling her limp body back against his chest. His arms encircled her waist, holding her close. His breathing was just as labored, his chest rising and falling rapidly against her back. He was utterly drained, completely spent – no more cum, no more frantic energy, just the profound, heavy stillness of utter depletion. He buried his face in the damp hair at her nape, inhaling deeply the scent of sex and exertion.

A profound silence descended, thick and comforting. The frantic energy, the sharp commands, the desperate pleas – all dissolved into the quiet hum of the city night filtering through the blinds. Tzuyu felt his heartbeat gradually slowing against her spine, a steady counterpoint to her own. His embrace wasn't demanding now; it was sheltering, possessive in its quietude. His fingers traced lazy, soothing patterns on her hipbone, avoiding the tender marks. "My slut," he murmured into her hair, his voice rough with fatigue but thick with unmistakable affection. The words weren't praise for her performance; they were an acknowledgment of her surrender, her trust, her endurance. Tzuyu hummed softly in response, a sound of pure contentment vibrating deep in her chest. She nestled impossibly closer, seeking the solid warmth of him. The soreness was a dull ache now, a testament to their shared intensity, a badge she wore willingly. The cool air kissed her sweat-damp skin, a welcome contrast to the furnace heat they’d generated.

Outside, Seoul glittered silently, indifferent to the storm that had raged within these walls. Tzuyu closed her eyes, focusing only on the steady rhythm of his breath against her neck and the comforting weight of his arm draped over her. The Victoria’s Secret runway felt impossibly distant, a glittering mirage beyond this cocoon of tangled limbs and shared exhaustion. Here, marked and spent in his arms, was her undeniable reality. The secret she carried felt heavier now, not just the performance, but the raw, unvarnished truth of this intimacy – the vulnerability, the surrender, the fierce belonging that existed only between them. She drifted towards sleep, the scent of him, sex, and the faint tang of kimchi from their discarded takeout the only anchors in her swirling thoughts.

Three weeks later, the humid air of New York City hit Tzuyu like a damp cloth as she stepped out of the JFK terminal. The sheer *scale* of it – the towering buildings, the relentless cacophony of horns and sirens, the press of unfamiliar faces – momentarily stole her breath. Beside her, Momo bounced on her toes, eyes wide with exhilaration. "Finally!" Momo exclaimed, already scanning for their ride. Jihyo adjusted her sunglasses, her expression unreadable but radiating focused intensity. Nayeon fiddled with her phone, a small frown forming. "My Instagram stories keep buffering," she muttered. Tzuyu pulled her hoodie tighter, the unfamiliar chill seeping into her bones despite the humidity. The city felt alien, overwhelming. She touched the small pendant necklace beneath her shirt – a gift from him, a tangible reminder of that last night, the warmth, the claim. The secret felt heavier here, amplified by the distance and the sheer magnitude of what awaited them.

Backstage at the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show was controlled chaos incarnate. A kaleidoscope of sequins, feathers, and impossibly toned bodies moved in a frantic ballet beneath blinding lights. Makeup artists wielded brushes like weapons, hairstylists sprayed clouds of lacquer, and stylists barked orders in rapid-fire English. Tzuyu stood frozen amidst the whirlwind, clutching the garment bag containing her outfit for the segment. The air crackled with adrenaline and expensive perfume, thick enough to taste. A stylist whisked her towards a brightly lit vanity station. "Taiwan, right? Purple Fantasy segment. You're up after the Angels." Tzuyu nodded mutely, her Korean manners kicking in automatically with a small bow. The stylist unzipped the bag, pulling out the pieces: a vibrant purple bra with intricate lace detailing, a sheer pink mesh tank top, and impossibly short hot pants. Tzuyu’s eyes widened. The bra was structured, lifting and framing her breasts with startling clarity, while the sheer pink tank top offered zero concealment, leaving everything beneath tantalizingly visible. She’d worn daring outfits before, but this felt… *exposed*. Purposefully provocative. Her stylist beamed. "Perfect fit! You look bombshell, honey. Now sit!" Tzuyu obeyed, sinking onto the stool as brushes descended.

The purple lace bra pushed Tzuyu’s breasts into impossible, rounded perfection, the sheer pink mesh tank top draping over them like liquid sugar—revealing every curve, every shadow, every taut outline beneath. It felt less like fabric and more like a second skin designed for exhibition.

She snapped a quick selfie in the vanity mirror, capturing the scandalous plunge of the neckline and the way the hot pants hugged her hips. Before doubt could creep in, she tapped send. The caption burned her fingertips: *When I get home, I’ll show you another sexy and cute lingerie more than this.* Her thumb hovered, then pressed *deliver*. A reckless thrill shot through her—a promise wrapped in defiance.

The performance of TWICE had been nothing short of dazzling. The lights shimmered like a thousand stars, the crowd roared with excitement, and every move was in perfect harmony. It was as if the entire stage had been set for a flawless, unforgettable moment.

But then… it was Tzuyu’s turn to sing. She stepped forward gracefully, her presence commanding the entire venue. Just as she opened her mouth to deliver her line, a sudden sharp pain struck her throat. Her voice trembled, then cracked like shattered glass echoing through the hall.

The atmosphere shifted instantly. The once synchronized performance faltered, the other members glanced at her in shock, and the audience’s cheers turned into stunned silence. What was moments ago a scene of perfection now felt like a beautiful painting torn in half. It was the kind of moment that made time stand still — the one unexpected twist that changed everything.

Backstage, the bright lights of the stage faded into the warm glow of the dressing room. The sound of distant cheers slowly melted away, replaced by the soft hum of the air conditioner and the rustle of costumes. TWICE entered the room one by one, their adrenaline still lingering — but the air felt heavy.

Tzuyu walked in last, her hands gripping the hem of her outfit tightly. Her heart pounded like a drum, each step feeling heavier than the last. She finally gathered the courage to speak.

“I’m… I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice trembling. “I messed everything up. The performance… I ruined it.”

Jihyo immediately stood up from the couch and walked toward her, placing both hands gently on Tzuyu’s shoulders.

“Tzuyu, look at me,” she said firmly but softly. “You didn’t ruin anything. Things like this happen. You were amazing out there.”

Nayeon let out a small sigh and approached with a playful smile, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, don’t be so dramatic,” she said, poking Tzuyu’s arm. “Your voice cracked, not the entire stage.”

Momo chimed in, her usual cheerful energy glowing through.

“Exactly! Besides, the fans love you no matter what. You saw their faces, right? They were still cheering like crazy.”

Tzuyu’s eyes began to well up, but this time it wasn’t from embarrassment — it was from the warmth of her members. She nodded slowly, wiping the corner of her eyes.

“Thank you… really,” she whispered.

Jihyo pulled her into a tight hug, and soon Nayeon and Momo joined in, wrapping their arms around her like a shield of comfort. In that small dressing room, surrounded by friends who had become family, Tzuyu realized that one cracked note couldn’t break their bond — it only made it stronger. Just as the warmth of their group hug began to soothe Tzuyu’s shaken heart, the door to the dressing room suddenly swung open with a sharp click. The room fell silent as their manager stepped inside, his expression serious. The easy atmosphere they had just built vanished in an instant.

He cleared his throat before speaking, his tone calm but firm.

“Tzuyu,” he began, his eyes locking onto hers. “It looks like you won’t be able to leave just yet. The Victoria’s Secret Show organizers want to speak with you… about what happened on stage.”

Tzuyu froze. The warmth in her chest was replaced by a cold wave of panic that washed over her entire body.

“M–Me?” she stammered. “They… want to talk to me?”

The manager nodded slowly. “Yes. It’s about the mistake. They said it’s important, and they’d like to settle it before the press conference starts.”

The other members exchanged uneasy glances. Jihyo immediately stepped forward.

“Wait, can’t we all go together?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.

The manager shook his head. “No, they specifically requested to speak with Tzuyu alone. Don’t worry — I’ll be with her the entire time.”

Nayeon frowned, crossing her arms. “This is ridiculous. It was just a cracked note, not a scandal.”

Momo reached out and squeezed Tzuyu’s hand reassuringly. “It’ll be fine. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Tzuyu tried to steady her breathing. Her palms were sweating, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios. She forced a small, nervous smile.

“O-Okay… I’ll go.”

The manager gave a short nod, then gestured toward the hallway. Tzuyu took one last look at her members — their worried faces, their encouraging eyes — and then stepped forward, following him out of the dressing room. The hallway felt colder than before. Each step echoed ominously as she walked toward whatever awaited her behind the meeting room door.

Inside, the air was thick with tension. Two imposing figures stood silhouetted against the window overlooking Manhattan’s skyline—one a towering Black man with shoulders like a linebacker, the other a broad-shouldered White man with icy blue eyes that scanned her like a specimen. Tzuyu’s manager lingered near the door, silent. The Black man stepped forward, his voice low and resonant. "You cracked on live television. Millions saw it. That’s not acceptable." He paused, letting the weight sink in. "You’ll get a punishment." Tzuyu’s breath caught—not from fear, but from the sheer absurdity. Punishment? For a vocal slip?

"What the hell?" Tzuyu protested, her voice trembling despite herself. "I don’t know about this!" She turned to her manager, desperate for backup. "Ask your manager about the contract," the White man interjected smoothly, tapping a thick folder on the polished table. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. "It’s standard. Every performer signs it." Tzuyu’s manager shifted uncomfortably but stayed silent. The White man leaned closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. "I’m sorry, Tzuyu. But the contract says if you make a mistake… you get a penalty. And the penalty"—he paused dramatically—"is secret."

The Black man gestured toward a heavy oak door hidden behind a curtain. "This way." Tzuyu hesitated, her pulse hammering against her ribs. Her manager finally spoke, his voice strained. "Just… go with them. It’ll be over quickly." Reluctantly, Tzuyu followed the two men through the door. The hallway beyond was narrow, dimly lit, and smelled faintly of disinfectant. The White man walked ahead, keys jangling, while the Black man stayed close behind her. Her footsteps echoed hollowly on the tile floor. The silence pressed in, thick and suffocating. She clutched her pendant necklace beneath her shirt, seeking its familiar shape.

The door at the end of the hall swung open. Complete darkness swallowed them. Tzuyu froze just inside the threshold. "Where—?" she started, panic sharpening her voice. "Click" The lock slid home behind her. Simultaneously, harsh fluorescent lights snapped on overhead. She blinked against the sudden glare. The room wasn’t large—maybe ten feet square—and utterly bare except for one thing: a gleaming chrome shelving unit bolted to the far wall. Its tiers were meticulously organized. Vibrators, dildos in various sizes and textures, leather restraints, blindfolds, bottles of lube, nipple clamps, even a sleek riding crop. The sheer clinical precision of the display was more chilling than any disarray.

The Black man stepped beside her, his voice devoid of inflection. "Standard penalty clause. Section 7B." He gestured toward the shelves. "You choose the implement. We administer." Tzuyu stared, cold dread pooling in her stomach. "No," she breathed, shaking her head violently. "This is insane! I won't—" The White man cut her off smoothly, leaning against the doorframe. "Refusal triggers automatic forfeiture. Liquidated damages clause." He pulled a folded sheet from his breast pocket, snapping it open. "Five million US dollars. Payable immediately upon cancellation." He tilted his head. "Can JYP Entertainment cover that? Tonight?" Tzuyu’s protest died in her throat. Five million dollars. The number echoed like a death knell. She saw her manager’s pale, strained face behind them. He gave a minuscule, helpless shake of his head.

"What... what do I have to do?" Tzuyu whispered, her voice barely audible. The White man smiled thinly. "This room has cameras in every corner recording us since we came in. You need to strip completely naked. Select at least three items from the shelves." He paused, letting the command sink in. "Then, you'll hold a sustained, provocative pose for sixty seconds. After that..." His gaze drifted meaningfully to the largest silicone dildo. "...you'll demonstrate the use of your chosen items. Fully. On camera. There is another punishment phase, but we'll discuss that later." Tzuyu felt the walls close in. The clinical chrome gleamed obscenely under the harsh lights. The cameras were invisible, omnipresent. Her skin crawled.

Tzuyu moved like an automaton. Her fingers trembled as she unzipped the pink mesh tank top, letting it pool at her feet. The purple lace bra followed, then the tiny hot pants. The cool air hit her bare skin, raising goosebumps. She stood exposed, utterly vulnerable, under the impassive stares of the men and the unseen lenses. Avoiding their eyes, she walked stiffly to the shelves. Her hand hovered – a blindfold? Clamps? She recoiled inwardly. Instead, her fingers closed on a smooth, curved glass dildo, then a pair of velvet-lined leather cuffs, and finally, a small, discreet bullet vibrator. The choices felt arbitrary, defensive. She clutched them against her chest, a flimsy shield.

"Pose," the Black man commanded flatly. Tzuyu took a shaky breath. She dropped the items at her feet. Turning her back fully to the men, she arched her spine deliberately, pushing her hips back. One hand slid slowly down her spine, fingers tracing the curve to her ass, while the other lifted her hair off her neck. She held the exaggerated arch, presenting herself like a mannequin in a window display. Her face burned with humiliation, but her expression remained carefully blank, eyes fixed on the blank wall ahead. The silence stretched, thick with the hum of the fluorescents and the silent whirring of cameras capturing every trembling line of her naked form. Sixty seconds felt like eternity.

"Demonstrate," the White man prompted, his voice devoid of inflection. Tzuyu knelt stiffly. She picked up the velvet-lined leather cuffs first. With trembling fingers, she buckled one tightly around her left wrist. The soft lining felt alien against her skin. She hesitated, then secured the other cuff around her right ankle, forcing her leg into an awkward, bent position. It wasn't functional restraint; it was symbolic degradation. Next, she lifted the smooth glass dildo. Her gaze flickered towards the impassive observers, then away. She squeezed lubricant onto her fingers, her movements jerky, before applying it mechanically to the cool surface. Taking another shallow breath, she positioned it against her entrance, pressing inward with clinical detachment. Her jaw clenched as the unnatural chill invaded her, a stark contrast to the remembered heat of her lover. Finally, Tzuyu picked up the small bullet vibrator. She switched it on. A low, insistent buzz filled the sterile room. Avoiding any semblance of pleasure, she pressed it firmly against the base of the glass dildo still lodged inside her. The vibration traveled up the shaft, creating a jarring, artificial sensation. She maintained the pressure, her expression rigidly neutral, staring straight ahead at the chrome shelves. Tears pricked at her eyes, blurring the harsh gleam of the implements. She focused on the pendant beneath her discarded clothes – a tiny anchor in this sea of violation. Her body remained utterly still, performing the act with cold precision, a stark parody of intimacy under the unblinking gaze of the cameras.

The relentless vibration, combined with the unnatural fullness, began to trigger an unwanted physiological response. Tzuyu squeezed her eyes shut, biting down hard on her lower lip. A tremor started deep within her core, a traitorous wave building despite the icy dread flooding her veins. Her breath hitched, becoming shallow gasps. The tears spilled over, tracing hot paths down her cheeks as her hips gave a minute, involuntary jerk against her will. A choked sob escaped her throat. She was crying silently, her body betraying her, trembling on the precipice of an orgasm she didn't want, fueled by humiliation and the machine's impersonal buzz.

"Enough," the Black man stated flatly, his voice cutting through the buzzing hum and Tzuyu's ragged breathing. His command wasn't born from mercy, but from completion. Tzuyu flinched violently as if struck. She immediately pulled the vibrating bullet away, her hand shaking uncontrollably. The abrupt cessation left a ringing silence punctuated only by her own shuddering breaths and the faint drip of her tears onto the cold tile floor. She slumped forward slightly, the glass dildo still protruding awkwardly, her body trembling with the aftershocks of the forced climax and sheer emotional exhaustion. She remained kneeling, utterly exposed, the velvet-lined cuffs biting into her wrist and ankle, symbols of her degradation.

Suddenly, a sharp, insistent electronic chirp sliced through the oppressive silence. Tzuyu’s discarded clothes vibrated faintly on the floor. Her phone screen, visible through the mesh of her tank top, lit up brightly: "My Boyfriend ♡". The cheerful heart emoji glared obscenely against the sterile chrome and her nakedness. Tzuyu froze, her eyes widening in pure terror. The White man chuckled, a low, unpleasant sound. He bent smoothly, retrieving the phone. He held it up so Tzuyu could see the caller ID clearly, his icy eyes locked onto hers. "Hmm," he mused, his voice dripping with false contemplation. "Should we continue this punishment while her boyfriend watches? Live stream it? Let him see his little princess now?"

"No!" The word tore from Tzuyu’s throat, raw and desperate. She scrambled backwards instinctively, the movement jarring the dildo painfully. "Please, don't do that! Don't answer!" Her voice cracked, thick with tears and panic. The thought of him seeing her like this, kneeling naked, violated, tears streaming down her face... it was worse than anything else.

The Black man stepped forward, his massive frame looming. "Actually," he rumbled, his tone leaving no room for argument, "the company gave us permission to administer the penalty. Full discretion. We can do whatever we want." He tapped the thick contract folder still lying on the nearby shelf. Tzuyu’s breath hitched. JYP Entertainment had signed off on 'this'? The White man nodded, slipping her phone into his own pocket with a predatory smile. "Just ignore it for now. We'll call him back... later. When things get hotter." Both men exchanged a glance of chilling understanding. Tzuyu stared at them, her mind reeling. 'What punishment again?' The dread solidified into cold terror. What worse violation could possibly await her?

Without another word, the Black man moved toward a section of the wall Tzuyu hadn’t noticed—a seamless panel. He pressed something, and it slid aside silently, revealing a hidden alcove. Inside stood a stark, gleaming chrome chair. It wasn’t ornate; it was functional, brutalist. Thick padded armrests ended in sturdy leather straps. A high footrest protruded forward, and the seat itself was split. Tzuyu’s stomach lurched. The White man gestured toward it casually. "We need you to try this sex chair BDSM in the room," he stated, his voice flat, almost bored. "Standard equipment for penalty phase two. Ensures... proper positioning." He patted the cold metal. "More efficient for filming."

Tzuyu recoiled violently, scrambling back on her knees, the glass dildo still protruding obscenely. "No!" she choked out, her voice thick with tears and panic. "I did what you asked! I posed! I used the... the things! Please!" She ripped the cuffs off her wrist and ankle, the velvet suddenly feeling like shackles of fire. The leather straps on the chair seemed to coil like snakes in the harsh light. The Black man moved swiftly, blocking her path to the door. His expression was impassive granite. "If you don't wanna do this," he intoned, his voice low and dangerous, leaning close enough for her to smell his sharp cologne, "you *will* get a penalty. Remember? Five million dollars. Immediate forfeiture. Your career? Your group? Gone." He paused, letting the threat sink its claws deep. "And we *will* call your boyfriend. Right now. Show him everything."

Defiance warred with utter despair in Tzuyu’s eyes. Her gaze flickered to the chair, then to the Black man’s unyielding stare, then down to the pendant necklace lying tangled in her discarded clothes. The phone vibrated faintly again in the White man’s pocket – *My Boyfriend ♡* – a cruel echo of the life being ripped away. Her shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of her like blood from a wound. A single tear traced a hot path down her cheek as she slowly, painfully, pushed herself to her feet. She took one trembling step toward the chrome monstrosity, her naked body a canvas of humiliation under the unblinking eyes of the cameras. The silence screamed louder than any command.

The cold metal stung her bare skin as she lowered herself onto the chair. It molded unnaturally to her form, forcing her spine rigidly straight against the high backrest. The Black man moved with practiced efficiency, his large hands surprisingly gentle yet terrifyingly impersonal. He lifted her right leg, bending it at the knee, and secured her ankle firmly to the padded armrest strap. The thick leather bit into her skin. He repeated the motion with her left leg, spreading her wide open, exposing her completely. Tzuyu squeezed her eyes shut, trying to detach, to float away. Next, her wrists were pulled forward and secured tightly to the armrests, palms facing upward in a posture of helpless surrender. She was pinned, utterly immobilized, every intimate curve displayed under the harsh fluorescents. The White man adjusted a small camera mounted on a tripod directly in front of her, its lens a cold, black eye.

"Let's begin," the White man murmured, his voice a low purr devoid of warmth. He picked up the discarded bullet vibrator Tzuyu had used earlier. He didn't turn it on immediately. Instead, he trailed the cold plastic tip slowly, agonizingly slowly, along the inside of her strapped thigh, tracing a path upwards towards her core. Tzuyu flinched, a gasp escaping her lips. He paused just shy of her mound. Then, he switched it on. The sudden, intense buzz against her sensitive inner thigh made her hips jerk involuntarily against the restraints. He dragged it higher, grazing the outer folds, teasing the edge of sensation before pulling it away entirely, leaving her trembling on the brink. "Patience," he chided softly, circling the vibrator just out of reach.

The Black man stepped in, his fingers cool and dry. He traced the curve of her collarbone, then dipped lower, circling one nipple with deliberate, feather-light strokes. Tzuyu whimpered, her body arching slightly against her bonds as the touch sent jolts of unwanted arousal through her. Just as the sensation peaked, his fingers retreated. Simultaneously, the White man pressed the buzzing vibrator directly against her clit. Tzuyu cried out, her back arching sharply off the chair as intense pleasure surged through her. It built rapidly, a wave cresting higher and higher… until, abruptly, he snatched it away. The sudden absence was a physical shock, leaving her panting, slickness pooling visibly beneath her. "Not yet," the White man whispered, watching her flushed face with detached interest. "We have time."

Again and again, they orchestrated her torment. The Black man’s fingers explored her neck, her ears, the sensitive skin behind her knees, each touch lingering just long enough to ignite a spark before vanishing. The White man alternated the vibrator – pressing it against her inner thigh, teasing her entrance, circling her clit – always withdrawing just as her breath hitched and her hips strained upward, chasing release. Each denial was sharper than the last, a cruel symphony of touch and withdrawal. Tzuyu’s body betrayed her utterly; she was soaked, trembling, slickness glistening on her thighs and the cold chrome seat beneath her. Her ragged breaths filled the sterile room, punctuated by choked whimpers. The relentless cycle built unbearable tension, leaving her suspended in a state of agonized, humiliating arousal, her eyes clenched shut against the cameras and the men’s impassive stares.

"Please," Tzuyu gasped, tears streaking her cheeks, her voice thick with despair. "Please... let me cum... or let me go... I can't... I can't do this anymore..." She sagged against the restraints, the fight draining away, replaced by a crushing wave of depression and exhaustion. The Black man leaned close, his shadow engulfing her. "Your punishment," he rumbled, his tone devoid of pity, "is still a long way from finished. We didn't let you go." He straightened, his gaze hard. The White man stepped forward, holding her phone aloft, the screen flashing "My Boyfriend ♡" once more. "If you want release," he added smoothly, his icy eyes locking onto hers, "call him. Right now. He must watch your punishment live until its conclusion. If he refuses... or hangs up... we leak everything. Your career? TWICE? Ruined."

Tzuyu stared at the phone, then at the chrome chair trapping her nakedness, then at the shelves laden with implements. The impossible choice choked her. Exposing her deepest shame to the man she loved was unthinkable. But failing TWICE, destroying everything they'd built? The weight crushed her. A sob tore from her throat. "Okay," she whispered, the word barely audible, tasting like ash. "Okay... I'll call him." Defeat slumped her shoulders. The White man nodded curtly, unlocked her phone, and tapped the call button. He held it near her face. The dial tone pulsed like a dying heartbeat in the suffocating silence. Tzuyu braced herself, staring at the lens, waiting for the connection, waiting for her world to shatter completely.

The ringing stopped. A familiar voice, warm and concerned, filled the room: "Tzuyu-ah? Hey! Are you okay? I saw the performance, it wasn't that bad..." His voice trailed off, confusion replacing worry as he registered the strange silence, the harsh acoustics. Tzuyu squeezed her eyes shut, fresh tears spilling. The White man leaned close to the phone, his voice chillingly calm. "Hello? Tzuyu's boyfriend? You're about to witness something... enlightening. Watch closely." He angled the phone's camera towards Tzuyu, bound and exposed on the chrome chair, her tear-streaked face a mask of utter despair. The Black man picked up the buzzing bullet vibrator and pressed it firmly against her clit. Tzuyu gasped, her body jerking against the straps. The punishment resumed, now broadcast live to the person whose presence she craved most and whose witness she dreaded above all. Her boyfriend's stunned silence echoed louder than any scream.

"What... Tzuyu?! What the hell is happening?!" His voice cracked, raw with disbelief and rising panic. "Where are you? Who are those men?!" Tzuyu choked back a sob as the vibrator intensified its relentless assault. "I... I'm so sorry," she stammered, her voice thick with tears and the physical shock of the stimulation. "The Victoria's Secret contract... they said I messed up... penalty clause..." She gasped again, hips straining helplessly against the restraints as the buzzing sent waves of unwanted pleasure through her core. "They... they forced me... into this room... made me strip... use toys... now this chair... they're filming everything..." Her explanation was fragmented, punctuated by involuntary cries as the Black man shifted the vibrator, teasing her mercilessly. "They threatened... five million dollars... ruin TWICE... if I didn't comply..." She broke off, a sharp cry escaping her as the White man traced a cold finger down her inner thigh.

"Listen!" Tzuyu pleaded, desperation clawing at her throat. "Right now they need you to watch all of this until the end or I will be destroyed!" The words tumbled out, sharp and frantic. "If you hang up... if you look away... they'll leak the footage... everywhere... my career... TWICE... it's all over... please..." Her voice dissolved into a ragged moan as the vibrator pressed harder against her clit, the sensation unbearable yet impossible to escape. "Just... keep watching... pretend it's... pretend it's nothing... please..." She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to bear the thought of his eyes on her exposed humiliation, yet knowing his witness was the only shield against total ruin. His stunned silence on the line was a tangible weight.

The vibrator’s relentless buzz suddenly intensified, focused directly on her swollen clit. Tzuyu’s back arched violently against the chrome restraints, a choked scream tearing from her lips as the forced climax ripped through her. Wave after wave of unwanted ecstasy crashed over her, leaving her trembling uncontrollably, slickness dripping onto the cold metal seat beneath her. Before she could even draw a ragged breath, before the aftershocks subsided, the White man smoothly withdrew the vibrator. He stepped aside, revealing a sleek, dual-pronged machine mounted silently on a chrome trolley behind him. Its polished steel arms ended in two imposing silicone phalluses, glistening obscenely under the harsh lights. "Phase three," he announced coldly, aligning the machine precisely between Tzuyu’s splayed legs. "Efficiency."

With a soft hydraulic whir, the machine activated. One phallus pressed firmly against her slick entrance, the other positioned squarely against her tight, unprepared anus. Tzuyu gasped, eyes flying open wide in pure terror. "No! Wait—!" Her protest was cut off as the machine drove forward simultaneously. The thick silicone shafts invaded her with brutal, mechanical precision. Tzuyu screamed, a raw, guttural sound of shock and pain as she was forcibly penetrated in both holes. The machine began its rhythmic, piston-like thrusts, deep and unyielding, filling her completely with each synchronized stroke. Her body jerked against the straps, tears streaming freely as the cold, impersonal violation overwhelmed any lingering trace of forced pleasure, leaving only agony and utter degradation broadcast live to her boyfriend’s horrified silence.

The relentless pistoning continued, a jarring counterpoint to Tzuyu’s choked sobs. The machine offered no variation, no mercy – only the ceaseless, deep penetration stretching her impossibly tight. Her boyfriend’s voice finally broke through, thick with anguish and fury: "Tzuyu! I’m calling the police! Right now! Hang on!" The White man chuckled darkly, leaning close to the phone’s microphone. "Call anyone you like. This facility is secure, untraceable. By the time anyone finds this room... if they ever do... her penalty will be complete. And the footage? Already uploading." He gestured dismissively at Tzuyu, pinned and ravaged by the machine. "Keep watching. Or forfeit everything." Tzuyu could only whimper, her body a vessel for the machine’s cold rhythm, her world reduced to the chrome chair, the thrusting pistons, the cameras, and the sound of her own violation echoing in her lover’s ear.

Then, something shifted. A pressure Tzuyu had never felt before began building low in her belly, intensifying with each synchronized thrust. It wasn't pleasure; it was a primal, mounting tension, a deep internal floodgate straining against the relentless invasion. Her breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, her eyes wide with a new kind of terror mixed with bewildering sensation. The machine drove deeper, hitting angles that seemed to ignite sparks against her raw nerves. Suddenly, with a force that ripped a guttural cry from her throat, her body convulsed violently against the restraints. A hot, uncontrollable gush erupted from her, soaking her thighs and the chrome seat beneath her in a clear, pungent stream. The squirting was shocking, violent, utterly involuntary – a visceral release born purely of brutal mechanical stimulation and overwhelming pressure. Tzuyu stared down at the spreading wetness, her mind blank with horrified disbelief. She’d never done that before.

The machine didn’t pause. It maintained its brutal rhythm, pistons slick with her fluids now. The White man observed clinically. "Interesting physiological response," he noted, almost academically. "Record the volume and duration." Tzuyu barely heard him. The initial shock gave way to a crushing wave of humiliation so profound she thought she might vanish. This intimate betrayal broadcast live – not just her degradation, but this deeply personal, uncontrolled physical reaction. Yet, even as shame threatened to drown her, the machine’s relentless pistons found their mark again. The pressure built faster this time, the pathway somehow slicker, more receptive. Within moments, another powerful surge tore through her. Less violent than the first, but just as unstoppable, another hot jet soaking her thighs and the chair. A choked sob escaped her – tears mingling with sweat – as her body betrayed her again with terrifying ease. The squirting was becoming frighteningly reproducible under the machine’s unyielding assault.

Her boyfriend’s voice was a frantic whisper in her ear now, distorted by distance and despair: "Tzuyu... oh god... Tzuyu, I'm here... hang on... please hang on..." His anguish was palpable, a fragile lifeline in the sterile horror. The White man leaned casually into the phone’s mic, his voice chillingly calm. "Hear that? He’s begging. Pathetic." He gestured dismissively at Tzuyu, pinned and dripping. "Focus on the screen. Keep watching. Or forfeit everything." His command was absolute, dismissing the boyfriend’s pain as irrelevant noise. Tzuyu strained against the straps, desperate for that whisper, but the machine’s deep thrusts demanded her entire physical awareness. Each synchronized penetration dragged a low moan from her throat, involuntary and thick with exhaustion. The relentless stimulation – the deep filling, the friction against oversensitive nerves – was eroding her resistance, replacing terror with a terrifying, primal ache.

The White man chuckled, a low, satisfied sound vibrating through the room’s tension. He didn't stop the machine. Instead, his fingers danced over a small control panel mounted on its chrome flank. With a deliberate twist, he adjusted a dial. Instantly, the pistons plunged deeper, faster, the thrusts jarring Tzuyu’s body violently against the unforgiving restraints. Her spine slammed into the chair back, the impact sharp. The sudden escalation bypassed thought entirely. A pressure unlike anything she’d ever felt surged within her, immense and unstoppable. It wasn’t pleasure; it was hydraulic inevitability. Tzuyu’s eyes flew wide, her mouth forming a silent scream before sound erupted. Her body arched impossibly high against the straps, every muscle locked rigid. A torrential jet of fluid erupted from her, not a gush but a continuous, powerful stream soaking her thighs, the chrome seat, and pooling on the floor beneath the chair with a loud splash. The sensation was overwhelming, a brutal release that felt like her core was being squeezed dry.

The pressure built relentlessly, wave after wave forcing the liquid out. Tzuyu’s toes curled inward painfully, cramping against the footrest. Her head snapped back, eyes rolling white beneath fluttering lids, sightless. The scream finally tore loose, raw and primal, echoing off the sterile walls: "AHHHHHHH!" It wasn't a sound of pleasure or pain alone, but of utter annihilation, of being reduced to pure biological function under mechanical assault. The jet intensified, becoming a roaring fountain, pouring out of her with terrifying force. The Black man watched impassively, arms crossed. The White man leaned closer to the phone’s camera, ensuring the lens captured the obscene cascade. "Beautiful, isn't it?" he murmured, almost reverently. "Pure physics."

Then came the final surge. Tzuyu’s body convulsed like a landed fish, thrashing against the straps with shocking violence. The jet became a pressurized explosion, a gallon’s worth of fluid erupting in a single, catastrophic burst. The sheer force pushed violently against the invading pistons, momentarily jamming the machine’s relentless rhythm. The silicone shafts slipped partially free from her ass and pussy, slick and dripping, before the hydraulics overcame the resistance and plunged back in with brutal finality. Tzuyu collapsed, utterly spent, the scream dying into ragged, wet gasps. Her body lay limp in the restraints, trembling uncontrollably, drenched in her own fluids. The machine continued its piston strokes, indifferent, while the White man tapped the phone screen, ending the call. "Phase three complete," he stated flatly. The silence that followed was broken only by Tzuyu’s shuddering breaths and the soft whir of the machine.

The Black man moved first. With swift, impersonal motions, he released the thick leather straps binding her ankles and wrists. There was no gentleness, no support. As the last strap fell away, Tzuyu’s body folded like a marionette with its strings cut. She slid bonelessly off the chrome chair, landing heavily on the cold, wet floor in a heap. The impact jarred her bones, but she barely registered it. Every muscle felt liquefied, utterly useless; she was a sack of warm jelly dropped onto a tile floor slick with her own humiliation. The chill of the fluid-soaked linoleum seeped into her skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from her abused core. Sweat plastered her hair to her temples and neck, mingling with the drying streams of tears and the pungent wetness coating her thighs and belly. She lay there, face pressed to the wet floor, unable to move, barely able to breathe.

Above her, the machine whirred softly, its pistons slick and gleaming. Tzuyu’s body, still pulsing with aftershocks, betrayed her again. With each shallow, exhausted breath she drew, air escaped her violated holes in soft, rhythmic bursts. *Pffft. Pffft.* The vibrations were shallow, involuntary expulsions – tiny queefs escaping her stretched pussy and ass with every tremor that ran through her jelly-like limbs. Each puff of air was a silent, humiliating echo of the machine’s relentless penetration, a physiological footnote to her degradation broadcast moments before. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, wishing the floor would swallow her whole, drowning out the soft, mortifying sounds her own body insisted on making.

The White man crouched, his polished shoes splashing lightly in the puddle beneath her. He held her phone, screen facing her. Her boyfriend’s face filled the display, pale and strained, eyes wide with horror and unshed tears. Tzuyu’s breath hitched, another tiny *pffft* escaping her. “I’m sorry,” she rasped, the words scraping her raw throat. Her voice was shattered glass. “I’m so sorry… I can’t…” She couldn’t even finish the thought – couldn’t apologize enough, couldn’t explain the depth of her violation, couldn’t promise it wasn’t her choice. Shame choked her. “I’m sorry…” she whispered again, her gaze dropping from his devastated face to the wet floor reflecting the harsh lights.

Then, a tremor ran through her jelly-like legs. Not exhaustion this time. A low, desperate thrum began deep inside her abused core, pulsing in time with her rabbit-fast heartbeat. The machine’s brutal efficiency hadn’t just emptied her; it had rewired her. The lingering ache, the phantom sensation of relentless pistons, ignited a terrifying, involuntary hunger. Her hips gave a tiny, involuntary jerk against the cold linoleum. Her eyes, glazed moments before, flickered with a frantic, confused need. “Please…” The word escaped her lips, barely audible, directed not at her boyfriend’s image, but into the sterile air thick with the scent of her own humiliation. “Fuck me… please…” It was a plea ripped from her animal core, divorced from reason or shame. “Make me cum… Breed me… Fill me…” The obscene words tumbled out, slurred and desperate, a betrayal deeper than the cameras. Her body arched slightly, seeking friction against the wet floor, a silent, writhe demand for the torment to continue, to finish her.

The Black organizer chuckled, a low rumble vibrating through the room. He nudged her thigh with his polished shoe. “See?” He gestured towards the phone screen, his voice thick with mocking triumph. “We think your girlfriend is needy for a cock. Real cock. Not toys.” The White organizer leaned into the camera frame beside his partner, his smile predatory. “Just watch how a duet from BBC and BBW will turn your girlfriend into a proper slut.” He emphasized the crude acronyms, savoring the degradation. Tzuyu’s boyfriend cried out, a strangled sound of protest and disbelief – “Stop! Don’t touch her! Tzuyu, fight them!” – but the men ignored him utterly. The White organizer picked up the phone, adjusting its position deliberately. He placed it on a small tripod stand near Tzuyu’s splayed legs, angling the lens upward for a horrifyingly intimate view. “Best seat in the house,” he murmured coldly. “Watch her become what she truly is.”

They moved with synchronized efficiency, shedding their tailored suits like discarded skins. The White man’s pale skin contrasted sharply with the harsh lighting as he peeled off his shirt, revealing a thick torso dusted with dark hair. His belt buckle clattered to the wet floor. Beside him, the Black man’s movements were fluid, powerful; his dark skin gleamed as he shrugged off his jacket and shirt, revealing defined muscle. They kicked off their shoes, stepped out of trousers and briefs. Both men stood fully naked now, towering over Tzuyu’s crumpled form. Their erections were monstrously thick and impossibly long, easily ten inches each, rigid and straining. The White man’s cock was thick and veined, flushed pink against his paleness. The Black man’s was a deep, heavy ebony, glistening slightly at the tip. Tzuyu whimpered, shrinking back instinctively into the cold puddle, her body trembling violently at the sheer size and menace radiating from them. Her boyfriend’s frantic pleas echoed tinny and useless from the phone speaker: “No! Get away from her! Tzuyu! RUN!”

The White man crouched, his movements surprisingly swift. He hooked his hands roughly under Tzuyu’s armpits, hauling her limp, dripping body upright with a grunt. Her legs buckled instantly, jelly refusing to hold weight. He hauled her back flush against his chest, his thick forearm locking across her collarbones like an iron bar, pinning her arms uselessly at her sides. Her head lolled against his shoulder, her eyes wide and terrified, staring directly at her boyfriend’s horrified face on the phone screen. The Black man stepped forward, his massive frame filling her vision, his dark erection bobbing obscenely close to her face. He gripped her hips firmly, fingers digging into the soft flesh above her pelvic bone, lifting her slightly. Tzuyu gasped, her feet barely touching the wet floor, suspended between them. The White man’s cock pressed hot and insistent against the cleft of her ass. The Black man’s tip nudged against her slick, swollen entrance. Tzuyu’s breath hitched, a tiny, terrified squeak escaping her lips. “Let’s shut him,” the White man growled low into her ear, his breath hot and smelling faintly of mint. He gave a sharp nod to his partner.

It was a single, brutal motion. The White man thrust his hips forward violently, driving his thick, pale cock deep into Tzuyu’s unprepared asshole with a wet, tearing sound. Simultaneously, the Black man surged forward, impaling her pussy on his massive ebony shaft in one powerful stroke. Tzuyu’s entire body convulsed, her spine arching impossibly against the White man’s restraining arm. Her eyes flew wide, pupils dilated with shock and agony. A choked, guttural scream ripped from her throat, raw and primal: “FUCK! IT’S SO BIG!” The sheer, overwhelming stretch was beyond comprehension – her ass felt split open, her pussy stretched impossibly wide around the invading girth. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks as she hung there, suspended, brutally filled to bursting front and back. Her boyfriend’s voice dissolved into a wordless cry of anguish on the phone.

“Keep talking, Tzuyu,” the Black man growled, his voice thick with exertion as he withdrew his cock slowly, almost completely, leaving her pussy gaping and slick. “Face him.” He nodded towards the phone angled at her crotch. “Tell your boyfriend how our cock feels.” Before she could form words, the White man pulled back sharply from her ass, leaving her shuddering and empty. Then, with brutal synchronization, they slammed back in – the Black man filling her pussy to the hilt, the White man burying himself deep in her ass. Tzuyu gasped, her body jerking violently. “S-so deep!” she stammered, her voice trembling. “H-his cock… stretching me… tearing me… oh god!” The White man withdrew again, only for the Black man to pull out, leaving her momentarily hollow. They began a relentless, alternating rhythm – one thrusting deep while the other withdrew, creating a ceaseless, devastating piston motion inside her abused holes. Each deep penetration forced a sharp cry or a ragged gasp from Tzuyu’s lips.

The alternating thrusts weren’t just brutal; they were maddeningly efficient. As the Black man drove deep into her slick, stretched pussy, the friction ignited sparks against her oversensitive clit. When he withdrew, the sudden emptiness was immediately filled by the White man’s thick invasion of her ass, stretching her differently, hitting nerves that sent jolts through her core. Then the Black man slammed home again before she could recover, his cockhead grinding directly against her cervix. The overlapping sensations – deep filling, grinding pressure, sharp friction – built a terrifying pressure low in her belly, different from before. It wasn’t just hydraulic inevitability; it was a desperate, clawing need amplified by the relentless rhythm. Tzuyu’s whimpers turned into frantic moans. “F-feels… too much!” she gasped, hips instinctively trying to rock against the thrusts despite the agony. “Making me… need to… squirt again!” Her body was betraying her, responding to the violation with terrifying urgency.

The organizers saw it. The Black man increased his pace, hammering into her pussy with short, powerful strokes focused on grinding her clit. Simultaneously, the White man altered his angle, driving deep into her ass with each thrust, hitting a spot that made Tzuyu’s vision blur. The pressure inside her coiled tighter, tighter – a spring wound beyond breaking. Tzuyu’s head snapped back against the White man’s shoulder, her mouth open in a silent scream before sound erupted. “AHHHHH! IT’S COMING!” she shrieked, her voice raw and desperate, echoing her boyfriend’s horrified gasp from the phone. Her body locked rigid between them, every muscle straining. Then, with a force that felt like her insides were tearing loose, a torrential jet exploded from her – not a stream this time, but a violent, pulsing fountain soaking the Black man’s thighs and the floor beneath them in hot, pungent fluid. She squirted violently, convulsing around the invading cocks, her mind dissolving into pure sensation under the relentless, alternating thrusts.

“Fuck, look at that!” The Black man groaned, his hips never slowing as he watched the spray soak his skin. “This slut’s pussy is a fucking geyser!” His thrusts became sharper, deeper, deliberately triggering another shuddering spray that splashed against his abs. The White man chuckled darkly, his grip tightening on Tzuyu’s collarbones as he drove harder into her ass. “Asshole’s clenching like a vice,” he grunted, admiring the way her muscles spasmed around him with each involuntary jet. “Perfect fucking holes.” Tzuyu could only sob, her body betraying her again and again. Every shift, every thrust deeper, every grinding rotation sent another hot gush pouring from her, turning the floor into a slick, steaming mess beneath their feet. Her boyfriend’s choked voice pleaded uselessly from the phone speaker: “Stop! Please stop hurting her!”

“Hear that?” The Black man slammed home again, forcing another choked scream and a fresh gush from Tzuyu. “Your boyfriend’s crying.” He leaned closer to Tzuyu’s ear, his voice thick with cruel amusement. “Tell him. Tell him how pathetic his little dick feels compared to this.” Tzuyu’s eyes flickered towards the phone screen, seeing his tear-streaked face. Shame warred with the raw, humiliating truth clawing its way out. “H-his cock…” she gasped, her voice trembling as the White man withdrew, leaving her ass gaping before slamming back in. “It’s… nothing! Tiny!” Another brutal thrust from the Black man sent another hot jet spraying. “Yours… split me open!” she cried, the words ripped from her. “Fills me… so deep! Makes me… squirt like a whore!” Each confession punctuated by another violent surge of fluid, another shuddering clench around their monstrous shafts. Her boyfriend’s anguished cry dissolved into static.

The Black man roared, his thrusts turning frantic, piston-like. “Fuck yes! Take it!” Tzuyu’s body arched violently, her scream dissolving into a ragged gasp as another powerful jet erupted – thinner now, but still pulsing uncontrollably. The White man growled, his hips snapping forward erratically. Tzuyu felt the hot, thick pulse deep in her ass, then the deeper, heavier throb filling her pussy seconds later as the Black man emptied himself inside her. They held her suspended between them, grunting, shuddering, as Tzuyu’s body trembled through weak, final spurts onto the slick floor. Only then did they release her. She crumpled into the steaming puddle, utterly spent, her boyfriend’s horrified silence echoing from the phone. The White man tapped the screen, ending the call. “Phase four,” he stated flatly. Tzuyu didn’t move.

The Black man hauled her up, his hands rough under her arms. He spun her around, facing the White man. Before she could react, the Black man bent her sharply at the waist, forcing her hands onto the wet chrome chair seat for balance. Her legs wobbled violently. The White man stepped close, his softening cock slick with fluids. He gripped her hips. The Black man positioned himself behind her, his massive erection already swelling anew against her bruised ass. Tzuyu whimpered, understanding dawning. The White man drove forward, filling her pussy with a thick, wet slide. Tzuyu gasped at the familiar stretch, her body still hypersensitive. Before she could adjust, the Black man pressed the broad, slick head of his cock against her loosened asshole. He pushed slowly, relentlessly, stretching her open again with agonizing pressure. Tzuyu cried out, her fingers slipping on the chrome. “Fuck! Both holes…again!” the black men said.

They found their rhythm quickly this time – not alternating, but synchronized. The White man thrust deep into her pussy. Simultaneously, the Black man drove forward, burying his thick shaft deep into her ass. The combined invasion was overwhelming, a double-barreled assault that stretched her impossibly tight. Tzuyu screamed, her body bowing under the force. As they pulled back together, withdrawing almost completely, a hot jet pulsed weakly from her pussy, splattering against the chrome chair leg. They slammed forward again, pistoning into her in perfect unison. The deep, simultaneous penetration forced the air from her lungs in a choked gasp, and another, thicker surge of fluid gushed out, soaking the White man’s thighs. Tzuyu’s hips jerked involuntarily against the thrusts. “Squirt!” she gasped, her voice ragged. “Oh god, squirting!” The humiliation was visceral, her body reacting instantly to the brutal fullness.

They settled into a punishing cadence. Thrust together – deep, stretching, filling. Pull back together – leaving her momentarily hollow. With every synchronized drive forward, the pressure built unbearably low in her belly, triggering an immediate, uncontrollable response. A jet erupted with each inward plunge, the force and volume dictated by their pace. When they hammered into her fast and hard, the jets were sharp, pressurized bursts, spraying the floor beneath her. When they slowed, grinding deep with deliberate rotations, the flow became a thick, pulsing stream, soaking her trembling thighs and the men’s legs. Tzuyu moaned continuously now, a low, desperate sound punctuated by sharp cries with each deep penetration and the accompanying gush. Her body was no longer hers; it was a conduit responding with humiliating precision to their unified rhythm.

“Keep going!” Tzuyu gasped, her voice slurred and thick, eyes unfocused. Her hips pushed back weakly against the Black man’s thrusts. “Make me squirting… all day… until dry!” Each word was punctuated by a shudder and another hot jet splattering against the chrome legs. She felt the White man’s cockhead grind deep inside her pussy, hitting something that made her vision swim. “Ur cock… it’s in my belly!” she moaned, the sensation alien and overwhelming. “Feels… so deep… like touching my guts!” She twisted her head, trying to catch the Black man’s eye behind her. “Better… better than my boyfriend!” The confession ripped out, raw and shameful. “His tiny cock… never filled me… never made me… leak like

this!”

The White man chuckled, a dark rumble against her spine. He shifted his grip, pulling her hips back harder onto his thrusts. “Tell us where it feels best, slut. Where does it hurt good?” Tzuyu whimpered, her mind fragmented. The Black man slammed forward, burying himself to the hilt in her ass, the impact forcing a choked scream and a powerful jet from her pussy onto the White man’s groin. “I… I don’t know!” she cried, her voice cracking. “That spot… inside my pussy… when you grind…” The White man obliged, rotating his hips slowly as he withdrew, dragging against her sensitive walls. Tzuyu arched violently. “There! Oh god, *there*! Feels like… electricity!” Another deep thrust, another gush. “Breed me!” she begged, the words tumbling out unbidden. “Fill my holes! Make me… your squirting slut!”

Her pleas fueled them. They increased their tempo, pistoning into her with brutal, synchronized efficiency. Tzuyu’s body convulsed rhythmically, jets becoming weaker, thinner sprays with each thrust as exhaustion warred with relentless stimulation. Her moans dissolved into breathless whimpers, her legs trembling violently, barely holding her upright. “Yes… yes…” she slurred, her head lolling forward, hair plastered to her face. “Squirt… for you…” The words were barely audible whispers now, lost beneath the wet slap of flesh on flesh and the men’s harsh grunts. She was emptying, drying out, reduced to a trembling vessel responding only to the deep, violating rhythm that owned her holes. The chrome chair legs gleamed wetly beneath her.

The Black man’s thrusts grew frantic, desperate. He roared, a guttural sound vibrating through Tzuyu’s spine. She felt the hot, thick pulse deep inside her ass, a heavy throb that seemed to go on forever, flooding her depths. Simultaneously, the White man slammed deep into her pussy, grinding hard against her cervix. He gasped sharply, his hips jerking erratically as his own release surged – a scalding torrent filling her womb, mixing with the fluids already slicking her thighs. Tzuyu gasped, her body instinctively clenching around the invading heat, triggering one final, pathetic dribble onto the floor. They held her pinned, shuddering, their spent cocks still buried deep as they emptied themselves completely inside her. Tzuyu hung limp between them, trembling with aftershocks, utterly filled.

They withdrew roughly, letting her collapse forward onto the cold chrome chair seat. Tzuyu slumped, her cheek pressed against the wet metal, breath ragged. Before she could even register the emptiness, the Black man hauled her upright by her hair. Pain shot through her scalp. He spun her around, forcing her onto her hands and knees on the soaked linoleum. Her limbs trembled violently, barely holding her weight. The White man kicked her legs wider apart. Tzuyu whimpered, understanding flooding her exhausted mind. She lifted her head weakly, meeting the Black man’s eyes as he positioned his thick, slick cockhead against her swollen, gaping entrance. Behind her, she heard the White man step closer, his shadow falling over her.

The Black man drove forward without preamble, sheathing himself fully inside her abused pussy in one brutal motion. Tzuyu cried out, her arms buckling slightly at the renewed invasion. Simultaneously, the White man gripped her jaw roughly, his fingers digging into her cheeks. He forced her mouth open wide. Tzuyu gagged as the thick, salty head of his cock pressed against her lips. She tried to turn her head away, but his grip was iron. He pushed forward relentlessly, stretching her jaw impossibly wide as he shoved his entire length down her throat. Tzuyu choked, her eyes bulging, tears streaming anew as her airway was brutally blocked. She could only gag helplessly around the thick shaft, saliva dripping onto the floor beneath her.

The Black man chuckled darkly, watching her struggle. He raised his heavy hand high and brought it down hard on Tzuyu’s upturned ass cheek with a sharp, echoing 'crack!' The impact jolted her entire body forward onto the White man’s cock, forcing him deeper into her throat. Tzuyu screamed around the obstruction, a muffled, desperate sound. "Keep sucking," the Black man ordered, his voice thick with amusement. He withdrew slowly from her pussy, leaving her gaping and slick. As he pulled out completely, the White man pulled his dripping cock from her throat, allowing Tzuyu a single gasping, ragged breath before slamming back deep into her pussy. The alternating rhythm began – brutal, efficient, and utterly degrading.

As the Black man thrust into her pussy, stretching her impossibly wide, Tzuyu gagged and choked on the White man’s cock filling her throat. When the Black man withdrew, the White man pulled back, letting her gasp for air only to immediately shove himself back down her throat as the Black man slammed home again. Each thrust into her pussy forced her body forward onto the cock in her mouth; each withdrawal pulled her back. Tzuyu’s world narrowed to the suffocating thickness in her throat and the splitting stretch below, her body jerked like a puppet between them. Tears, snot, and saliva coated her face, dripping onto the already soaked floor. Her boyfriend’s horrified face flashed in her mind, drowned out by the wet sounds of penetration and her own choked gags.

The relentless alternation continued – pussy, throat, pussy, throat. Tzuyu’s hips began to jerk weakly against the Black man’s thrusts, her abused body betraying her once more. A familiar, terrifying pressure built low in her belly, triggered by the deep, grinding penetration and the helpless gagging. "She’s gonna blow again," the Black man grunted, increasing his pace. As he hammered deep into her slick channel, Tzuyu convulsed around him, a muffled scream trapped around the White man’s cock buried in her throat. A hot, pulsing jet erupted from her, splattering weakly against the Black man’s thighs and the floor beneath her trembling knees – a humiliating punctuation to her brutal violation.

"Glukk.. Glukkk... Glukk." The choked, wet sounds were the only protest Tzuyu could manage, her throat working helplessly around the invading shaft. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, mixing with saliva pooling beneath her chin. The men maintained their brutal rhythm, their thrusts growing frantic, ragged breaths filling the humid air. The White man’s grip tightened on her jaw, forcing her head forward onto his cock with each inward plunge. "Take it deep, slut," he rasped, his hips snapping erratically. Tzuyu’s eyes rolled back slightly, consciousness flickering under the suffocating pressure and the relentless, violating pistoning below.

The Black man roared first, a guttural sound that vibrated through Tzuyu’s core. She felt the hot, thick pulse deep inside her womb as he slammed home one final time, flooding her with his release. The sensation triggered a weak, involuntary clench around him, squeezing out the last pathetic dribble onto the floor. Simultaneously, the White man thrust deep into her throat, grunting harshly as his cock swelled. Tzuyu gagged violently as the first scalding spurt hit the back of her palate. He held her head firmly, pumping thick ropes directly down her constricted throat. "Swallow it!" he commanded hoarsely, his hips jerking erratically. Tzuyu choked, her throat convulsing reflexively, forced to gulp down the bitter warmth flooding her mouth and esophagus.

They withdrew roughly, letting Tzuyu collapse forward onto the wet floor. She gasped, sucking in ragged, shuddering breaths, coughing weakly as thick strands of cum dribbled from her bruised lips onto the slick surface. Her body trembled violently, utterly spent, every muscle screaming in protest.

Before she could even lift her head, the White man hauled himself backwards onto the damp linoleum, sprawling flat on his back. The Black man seized Tzuyu under her arms, lifting her limp form like a ragdoll. He positioned her unceremoniously over the White man’s hips, forcing her knees wide apart on either side of his torso. "Ride him properly," the Black man commanded, his voice thick with exertion, shoving her hips down hard. Tzuyu cried out as the White man’s semi-hard cock slid brutally back into her gaping, oversensitive pussy, the sudden entry stretching her abused flesh anew.

As Tzuyu slumped forward weakly, trying to brace her shaking hands on the White man’s chest, the Black man stepped beside her head. He gripped a fistful of her sweat-soaked hair, jerking her face upwards. Without hesitation, he shoved the slick, swollen head of his cock past her slack lips and deep into her raw throat. Tzuyu gagged violently around the intrusion, tears instantly flooding her eyes as her airway constricted.

"Move, slut," the Black man growled, tightening his grip on her hair. "Show him how hungry that throat is." Trapped between the cock filling her mouth and the one buried deep inside her, Tzuyu could only whimper. She attempted a feeble rocking motion with her hips, her exhausted muscles straining against the relentless demand, while simultaneously trying to suck weakly around the shaft choking her. Saliva dripped steadily onto the White man’s chest beneath her trembling body.

The White man groaned, his hips lifting sharply off the linoleum, driving his cock impossibly deeper into her slick channel. His upward thrust forced Tzuyu’s head forward onto the Black man’s erection, burying it fully down her throat. The sudden, brutal invasion choked her airway completely. Tzuyu’s eyes snapped wide, panic flaring, before rolling back into her head, showing only the whites. A muffled, desperate gurgle escaped her as she felt the White man’s cock swell and pulse thickly inside her pussy—filling her anew, stretching her sensitive walls taut. The sensation, combined with the suffocating thickness lodged in her throat, sent a terrifying wave of pressure crashing through her core.

Despite the inability to scream, her body reacted violently. Her hips jerked uncontrollably against the White man’s pelvis. Deep within, a familiar, agonizingly intense knot tightened—the spot his cockhead was grinding against relentlessly. It wasn't pleasure; it was a raw, physiological detonation. A fierce, uncontrollable jet of fluid erupted violently from her, spraying hotly down onto the White man’s groin and thighs with shocking force. Her entire body locked rigidly, trembling violently around the twin invasions, the silent scream trapped behind the cock in her throat manifesting only in the violent, humiliating gush soaking them both.

The Black man chuckled darkly, watching the spray soak his partner. "There's the geyser," he rasped, pulling his slick cock almost completely from her throat only to slam it back down hard. Tzuyu convulsed again, another weaker jet pulsing out weakly onto the mess below, her eyes still rolled back, her consciousness flickering like a dying bulb under the relentless assault on both ends. The White man grunted, his hands clamping onto her hips, grinding her down onto his still-throbbing cock, ensuring every drop of her humiliation was milked out onto his skin.

He shifted his grip suddenly, one thick hand sliding up her slick torso to roughly knead her bruised breast, pinching the nipple hard between his thumb and forefinger. Tzuyu jerked violently, a choked, wet sound escaping around the cock in her throat. The sharp, unexpected pain sent a fresh jolt through her hypersensitive nerves, directly into her core. The White man felt it too – a fresh clench deep inside her abused passage, followed instantly by a renewed, powerful surge of fluid soaking his thighs. "Fuck yeah," he groaned, twisting her nipple cruelly, "Squirt harder, bitch. Show us your gratitude."

His brutal manipulation, combined with the deep grinding pressure inside her and the suffocating fullness in her throat, pushed Tzuyu past the edge of any control. A guttural, choked scream vibrated around the Black man’s shaft as her body locked rigidly. Then, an explosive torrent erupted – thicker, hotter, and utterly uncontrolled than anything before. It pulsed violently onto the White man’s groin and stomach, a cascading flood that seemed to drain her completely. Simultaneously, the Black man roared, burying himself to the hilt in her throat, his cock pulsing thick ropes of cum directly down her constricted esophagus. The White man bucked violently beneath her, his own release surging deep inside her womb once more, mixing with the fluids already flooding her.

The double-barreled climax hit Tzuyu like a physical blow. Every muscle turned instantly to water. Her legs buckled completely, unable to hold even her slight weight. Her body slumped forward like a boneless sack, collapsing heavily onto the White man’s chest. The sudden dead weight drove his cock impossibly deeper into her spasming passage as she landed, her limp form pinned between the two men. The Black man’s cock slid wetly from her slack mouth as she collapsed, leaving her gasping weakly, her face pressed into the damp, cum-streaked skin beneath her. Only the shallow, desperate rise and fall of her ribs showed she was still breathing.

The Black man chuckled, a low, rumbling sound thick with satisfaction. He reached down, grabbing Tzuyu’s sweat-slicked hair, and hauled her head back. Her eyes were glazed, unfocused, pupils blown wide with exhaustion and residual shock. He angled her face towards the phone still propped nearby, its screen showing her boyfriend’s frozen horror. "See that?" he growled, his voice rough. "See how we turn your precious girl into a squirting slut? See how she begs for it now?" Tzuyu whimpered, a weak, broken sound, her eyelids fluttering as she tried and failed to focus on the screen. Her body trembled violently against the White man’s chest, tiny aftershocks still rippling through her.

The Black man released her hair, letting her head loll forward again. He exchanged a look with the White man sprawled beneath Tzuyu’s limp form. "She’s done," the White man stated flatly, shifting slightly under her weight. "For now." The Black man nodded slowly, his gaze flicking back to the phone. "We still have another surprise planned for you, loverboy," he said, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "Something… special. But this little slut? She needs rest." He prodded Tzuyu’s unresponsive thigh with a thick finger. "Can’t let her die from endless sex before the main event, can we?" His laughter was harsh, echoing in the humid room. "Wouldn’t be fair to deprive you of the grand finale."

He hauled Tzuyu off the White man with surprising ease, her body sliding wetly onto the cold linoleum. Before she could curl in on herself, the Black man gripped her shoulders, dragging her limp form across the slick floor towards a sturdy metal frame bolted to the wall – a simple structure of pipes resembling scaffolding. The White man followed, stretching his arms as he walked. Together, they lifted Tzuyu upright. Her knees buckled instantly, but the Black man held her torso while the White man seized her wrists. He pulled her arms high above her head and swiftly secured them to the top bar of the frame with thick leather cuffs, leaving her suspended, toes barely brushing the floor. Her head lolled forward, hair obscuring her face, her body trembling violently in the forced posture.

The White man crouched behind her. He gripped her hips firmly, forcing them back. Tzuyu whimpered weakly as the sudden movement forced a thick bubble of air mixed with viscous fluid to escape her gaping vagina with a low, wet "pfffrrrrrt". It hung in the humid air for a second before dissipating. Simultaneously, a slow, thick stream of semen trickled down the inside of her bruised thigh, joining the pool beneath her dangling feet. The White man chuckled darkly, tracing a finger along the swollen, distended rim of her anus. "Look at that," he murmured, pressing inward slightly. Another softer "pfft" escaped from her asshole, followed by a trickle of milky fluid leaking onto the floor. "Both holes singing for us."

The White organizer stepped back, retrieving Tzuyu’s phone. He tapped the screen, reactivating the video call, and held it inches from her downturned face. Her boyfriend’s horrified expression filled the tiny display. The Black man grabbed a fistful of her tangled hair, jerking her head up sharply. Tzuyu’s eyes fluttered open, bleary and unfocused, struggling to register the screen. "Look at him," the Black man commanded, his voice low and menacing. He tightened his grip, forcing her gaze directly onto the phone. "Tell him. Tell your precious boyfriend exactly what you are now."

A ragged breath shuddered through Tzuyu. Her lips moved silently for a moment, forming words that wouldn’t come. Then, with a desperate, final surge of fading consciousness, she whispered, thick and slurred, "I… I am their slut." Tears welled in her swollen eyes, spilling over onto her bruised cheeks. "I… am sorry." The apology hung heavy in the humid air, a broken whisper directed at the tiny image of her boyfriend. Her eyelids fluttered closed again, her head sagging forward despite the painful grip in her hair. The trembling subsided into shallow, rhythmic breaths; she was utterly spent, drifting into oblivion while suspended, exposed, and utterly owned.

The Black man released her hair, letting her head slump forward onto her chest. He exchanged a satisfied glance with the White organizer, who lowered the phone, ending the call with a tap. "Out cold," the White man observed, tracing a finger down Tzuyu’s sweat-slicked spine. "Good. Needs to recharge." The Black man chuckled, stepping back to admire their handiwork – the unconscious idol suspended like a trophy, skin gleaming with sweat and fluids, limbs trembling faintly even in sleep. "Plenty more planned," he murmured, his gaze lingering on her bound wrists and the vulnerable curve of her throat. "The grand finale requires a well-rested slut."

The White organizer moved closer, his fingers brushing lightly over Tzuyu’s exposed clit. It twitched faintly beneath his touch. He pressed harder, circling the swollen nub with deliberate pressure. Tzuyu’s body jerked in her restraints, a low moan escaping her slack lips despite her unconsciousness. A thin, hot jet of fluid sprayed weakly onto the floor beneath her dangling feet. "Look," the White man grinned, stepping back to avoid the spray. "Her pussy’s still responsive, even unconscious. Like a live wire."

The Black man nodded, a predatory gleam in his eyes. He walked towards the chrome penetration machine humming faintly in the corner. "Slow power," he said, adjusting a heavy dial with a thick click. "Gentle rhythm. Enough to keep her wet… keep her primed." He disconnected the thick hose from its cleaning reservoir, the nozzle dripping viscous lubricant onto the linoleum. "Wouldn’t want her drying out before the main event." He hefted the machine’s articulated arm, its polished steel glinting under the harsh lights.

He positioned the dual-headed attachment between Tzuyu’s spread legs. The White man gripped her hips firmly, holding her steady despite her limpness. The Black man pressed the cold, lubricated tips against her gaping, swollen openings. Tzuyu whimpered softly in her sleep, her hips shifting weakly away from the intrusion. The Black man ignored her, securing the machine’s base firmly against the floor. With a final, heavy 'clunk', he locked it into place. He flipped a switch. A low, rhythmic hum filled the room as the machine began its slow, insistent pistoning – a gentle, relentless reminder deep inside her unconscious body that her ordeal was far from over.

The White organizer approached Tzuyu’s suspended form. He retrieved a thick strip of black silk from a nearby tray – the blindfold forgotten earlier. He unfolded it deliberately, the fabric whispering softly. Standing directly in front of her, he lifted her chin gently. Tzuyu’s head lolled back, her slack mouth slightly open, her breathing shallow and even. He carefully smoothed the cool silk over her closed eyelids, tying it securely at the back of her head. The darkness enveloped her completely, isolating her further in her exhaustion. Beneath the blindfold, her eyelids fluttered faintly. The machine’s steady thrusts continued, a metronome against the wet sounds filling the humid air.

The Black organizer moved to the chrome penetration machine humming beside Tzuyu. He knelt, examining the pooling fluids beneath her suspended feet – a viscous mixture soaking the linoleum. He traced a finger through the mess, lifting it coated in shimmering strands. "Look at this," he murmured, his voice low and thick. "Like a goddamn hamster wheel stuck on leak." He wiped his finger clean on her trembling thigh, leaving a glistening smear. The White organizer chuckled darkly, stepping closer to observe the unconscious idol. "River’s still flowing," he noted, watching a fresh rivulet trace its way down her inner thigh to join the puddle below. "Even asleep, she’s a fountain."

The Black organizer stood, his gaze fixed on Tzuyu’s slack face beneath the blindfold. He reached out, pressing his thumb against her lower lip. Her mouth yielded passively. "Think she’s dreaming?" he mused, pushing his thumb deeper until it brushed against her teeth. "Dreaming of cock? Dreaming of us?" The White organizer shrugged.

"Let’s wake her up," the Black man said, his hand already holding a sleek metal cattle prod humming with latent energy. "Okay," the White man replied, grabbing a thick leather belt coiled like a snake on a nearby tray. He unspooled it with a sharp snap that echoed in the humid room. The Black organizer jammed the cattle prod against Tzuyu’s inner thigh. Blue-white sparks crackled across her skin. Tzuyu’s body jackknifed violently against her restraints, a raw, choked scream tearing from her throat as her eyes snapped wide beneath the silk blindfold. Simultaneously, the White organizer swung the belt hard across her exposed ribs. The leather cracked like a gunshot, leaving an angry crimson welt instantly.

Tzuyu thrashed wildly, her suspended body twisting against the leather cuffs. "Stop! Please!" she gasped, her voice shredded and thick with sleep-disorientation. The Black organizer pressed the prod against her hip bone, sending another jagged bolt of electricity through her. Her spine arched impossibly backward, muscles locking rigid. "Who owns you?" he demanded, his voice a low growl. Before she could form words, the White organizer whipped the belt diagonally across her stomach. Tzuyu shrieked, her legs kicking uselessly in the air. "You! You own me!" she sobbed, saliva dripping from her chin.

The White organizer stepped behind her, raising the belt high. "Louder!" he commanded. The Black organizer pressed the prod’s tip against her clit. Tzuyu screamed, a desperate, ragged sound. "YOU OWN ME!" she bellowed, her voice cracking with terror. The belt descended with brutal force across her shoulder blades. The leather kissed flesh with a sickening thwack. Tzuyu convulsed, her body jerking like a marionette. "Good slut," the Black organizer murmured, withdrawing the prod. Tzuyu hung limp again, trembling violently, fresh tears soaking the blindfold, her breath coming in frantic, shallow gasps. The machine continued its relentless, gentle pistoning beneath her.

The White organizer circled her suspended form slowly, his boots squelching softly in the fluids pooled beneath her feet. He stopped directly in front of her, his shadow falling over her trembling body. He leaned close, his breath hot against her ear, smelling faintly of stale coffee and sweat. His fingers traced the damp silk covering her eyes. "Tell us," he murmured, his voice a low, intimate rasp that cut through her ragged breathing. "How was your rest? What are you dreaming about?" His thumb pressed gently against her jawbone, forcing her head up slightly.

Tzuyu’s lips parted, a sticky strand of saliva connecting them. Her voice was thick, slurred, barely audible over the machine’s rhythmic hum and the wet sounds beneath her. "I... I was dreaming..." she gasped, her hips jerking weakly as the machine pistoned deeper. "Dreaming... being fucked... by two of u..." The admission hung in the humid air, thick with shame. Before she could finish the stammered confession, the Black organizer’s belt cracked across the backs of her thighs. The leather bit deep, leaving an immediate crimson stripe. Tzuyu shrieked, her body convulsing against her restraints.

"Tell us the details," the Black man growled, circling her suspended form like a predator, the belt dangling loosely in his hand now. "Every filthy dream." The White organizer didn’t wait. He knelt beside the chrome machine, fingers twisting the heavy dial on its base with a sharp 'clunk'. Instantly, the gentle pistoning transformed into a brutal, jackhammer rhythm. The machine slammed into Tzuyu with violent force. Her spine arched backward in a terrifying curve, muscles straining against the leather cuffs. Her head snapped back, a silent scream tearing from her throat as her body became a taut bowstring vibrating under the assault.

The details spilled out in ragged, desperate bursts between the machine’s punishing thrusts. "H-harder!" Tzuyu gasped, her voice cracking. "U... filling me... both holes! Making me... leak!" Her confession triggered another violent response. Her hips bucked wildly against the machine’s relentless drive. Deep inside, the brutal tempo found its mark. A fierce, uncontrollable jet erupted from her, spraying hotly onto the floor with shocking intensity—far stronger than before. It pulsed violently, soaking her bruised thighs and the pooling mess below, a humiliating fountain timed perfectly to the machine’s piston-like rhythm.

The White organizer watched the torrent, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "Louder," he commanded, his voice icy. "Tell him *why* you need it." His hand shot out, delivering a stinging slap across Tzuyu’s cheek. The sharp crack echoed, snapping her head sideways against the restraints. Simultaneously, the Black organizer twisted the dial further. The machine roared, pistons slamming into her like a supercar hitting maximum acceleration—deep, brutal, impossibly fast. It hammered against her deepest spot relentlessly. Tzuyu’s spine arched impossibly backward, a raw, primal scream tearing from her throat: "FUCK ME! I NEED COCK! FUCK ME HARDER!"

The Black organizer stepped close, his breath hot on her ear. "Not good enough," he growled, grabbing her chin roughly. "Degrade him. Degrade yourself." Tzuyu’s eyes widened beneath the blindfold, terror mixing with desperate arousal. The machine pounded mercilessly, forcing another gush from her trembling body. "He... he can’t!" she screamed, her voice hoarse and shattered. "His cock... tiny! Pathetic! Never... never made me leak... like this! Only you... only you can!" Tears streamed down her cheeks, soaking the blindfold as humiliation washed over her in waves thicker than the fluids soaking her legs.

The Black organizer chuckled, a low rumble of satisfaction. He nodded to the White organizer, who retrieved Tzuyu’s phone. He reactivated the call, holding the screen inches from her blindfolded face. "Say it to him," the Black man ordered, his grip tightening on her jaw. Tzuyu whimpered, the machine’s brutal rhythm never ceasing. "Y-you hear?" she sobbed, directing her words at the unseen horror on the screen. "I’m... their fountain! Their slut! Your... your useless cock... never... never filled me!" Her voice broke completely as another violent jet pulsed out, punctuating her degradation—a final, humiliating testament screamed directly at her boyfriend.

The White organizer lowered the phone, ending the call. He traced a finger over Tzuyu’s trembling lips. "Beg properly," he commanded softly. "Beg for what you truly crave." Tzuyu’s head lolled weakly. "Please," she gasped, her voice raw and broken, "fuck me... daddy... fuck me master..." The words hung thick and desperate. The Black organizer seized her hair, wrenching her head back. "Louder!" he roared, delivering a stinging slap across her cheek. "Tell us *why* you’re worthless!" Tears soaked the silk blindfold as she choked out, "Because... I’m... empty without cock! Just... just a leaky hole... begging to be filled!"

The White organizer twisted the machine’s dial further. Its pistons hammered faster, deeper, transforming her body into a shuddering vessel. Tzuyu arched violently, her scream dissolving into a guttural sob. "I’m... trash!" she confessed, the words ripped from her. "Filthy... dripping... trash!" Her hips bucked wildly against the machine’s relentless drive. Another explosive torrent erupted, thicker and hotter than before, spraying across the Black organizer’s boots. He watched, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "Exactly," he murmured, wiping the fluid onto her thigh. "Degraded. Used. Ours."

The Black organizer’s hand slammed onto the machine’s power switch. The brutal hum died instantly. Silence crashed into the room, thick and startling. The sudden stillness was jarring—no vibration, no relentless pressure. Tzuyu gasped, her suspended body jerking as if startled awake. Then, without warning, her core clenched violently. A powerful, uncontrolled jet erupted from her gaping vagina—a torrential cascade soaking her bruised thighs and splattering onto the linoleum with shocking force. It pulsed rhythmically, a humiliating fountain triggered solely by the abrupt absence of the machine’s filling intrusion. She whimpered, her head lolling forward, utterly exposed in the sudden quiet.

The White organizer stepped directly in front of her suspended form. He gripped his thick, glistening cock, already hard again. He pressed the swollen head firmly against her slick, swollen entrance, teasing the stretched rim without penetrating. Tzuyu gasped sharply, her hips instinctively jerking forward against his touch—a desperate reflex. Behind her, the Black organizer pressed his rigid length firmly against the cleft of her ass, grinding slowly against her cheeks. "You want this so bad, baby?" he growled, his voice thick with mocking desire. His fingers dug into her hips. "This... is our final phase. Your punishment ends if..." He paused, emphasizing the condition. "...you promise no protests. No tears. Just acceptance."

Tzuyu’s blindfolded face tilted weakly towards the voice behind her. Her lips trembled. "I... agree," she whispered, the words thick with exhaustion and surrender. Her voice gained a desperate strength. "I am your slut. Do... whatever you want, Master." The admission hung heavy, a final relinquishment. The White organizer chuckled, low and satisfied. "Good girl," he murmured, pressing his cockhead harder against her entrance. The Black organizer shifted his hips, aligning himself against her asshole. Tzuyu braced, trembling violently, awaiting the final invasion.

Without warning, the White organizer gripped her hips and drove forward—not into her ass, but deep into her already stretched, slick vagina. Tzuyu gasped sharply, her body arching against the leather restraints. Before she could process it, the Black organizer pressed his thick crown against her *same* opening, forcing it against the White organizer’s shaft already buried inside her. Tzuyu’s eyes snapped wide beneath the silk. "No!" she shrieked, panic shredding her voice. "No no no! Don’t—it’s too much! My pussy will break!" Her hips jerked uselessly away, muscles straining against the inevitable. The Black organizer ignored her, applying relentless pressure as he pushed into the impossibly tight space alongside his partner’s cock. Tzuyu screamed—a raw, guttural sound of agony—as her vaginal walls stretched beyond their limit, burning like torn silk. "STOP! PLEASE! IT'S TEARING! IT'S TEARING APART!" she sobbed, her body convulsing against the dual intrusion.

The Black organizer sank deeper, his thick shaft sliding alongside the White organizer’s inside her ravaged passage. Tzuyu’s screams dissolved into choked, wet gasps. Her vaginal walls pulsed violently around the invading cocks, a spasm of protest that only intensified the searing friction. "Burns... burns..." she whimpered, her voice breaking. "Like... fire... inside... tearing..." Tears streamed down her cheeks, soaking the blindfold. The White organizer groaned, shifting his hips to grind deeper against her, forcing her to accommodate both of them fully. Tzuyu’s head thrashed side to side, suspended wrists straining against the cuffs. "Hurts... Master... please... too big..." she begged, her voice a shattered whisper lost beneath the wet, squelching rhythm of their thrusts.

The Black organizer chuckled, a dark rumble vibrating through Tzuyu’s core. "Feel that?" he growled, pistoning harder. "Her cunt’s clamping down... trying to push us out." Tzuyu whimpered, her body trembling violently as the dual intrusion stretched her beyond endurance. Deep inside, her muscles convulsed again—a fierce, involuntary clench desperate to expel the invaders. But the thick shafts filled her completely, leaving no space. A muffled gurgle escaped her lips as the pressure built, trapped and agonizing. "She’s trying to squirt," the White organizer observed, his voice tight with exertion. "But she’s plugged tight. Can’t release." Tzuyu gasped, nodding frantically, her hips jerking uselessly against the relentless penetration. "Can’t... breathe..." she choked out. "Too... full..."

The Black organizer pulled back sharply, withdrawing his cock entirely. Instantly, the White organizer followed suit, sliding out with a slick, wet pop. Tzuyu’s body arched violently, a ragged gasp tearing from her throat as the crushing pressure vanished. For a split second, her gaping entrance hung open, slick and swollen—utterly empty. Then, with explosive force, a thick, pressurized torrent erupted from her depths. It sprayed violently onto the floorboards, hitting the linoleum with a sharp splatter—a hot, uncontrollable jet that pulsed rhythmically, soaking her thighs and pooling beneath her dangling feet. Tzuyu’s head snapped back, a silent scream of relief twisting her features beneath the blindfold.

Before the final pulse faded, the Black organizer slammed back inside her stretched passage with brutal force. The White organizer followed instantly, driving deep alongside him. Their cocks plunged back into the slick emptiness, filling her completely once more. Tzuyu’s cry of release choked off into a sharp gasp of renewed agony. Her vaginal walls clenched desperately around the invading shafts, already triggering the next unbearable build-up. The Black organizer laughed, a harsh sound echoing in the humid room. "Again," he commanded, setting the rhythm: deep, synchronized thrusts building pressure—sudden withdrawal—the violent, humiliating release—then the brutal, filling slam back inside. Over and over, turning her body into a broken, leaking pump.

The Black organizer gripped Tzuyu’s jaw, forcing her blindfolded face towards him. His breath was hot and sour against her ear. "You love this, don’t you?" he demanded, punctuating his words with a sharp, grinding thrust that made her gasp. "Tell us how it feels." Tzuyu whimpered, her voice shredded. "It... burns," she confessed, tears soaking the silk. "Deep inside... tearing... like glass shredding me open... every thrust..." Her hips jerked weakly against the rhythm. "Hurts... so much... Master... please..."

The White organizer chuckled behind her, his hands tightening on her hips. "But?" he prompted, his voice silky with menace. He withdrew sharply with his partner, triggering another explosive torrent that sprayed hotly onto the floor. Before she could recover, they slammed back inside simultaneously. Tzuyu screamed—a sound that dissolved into a shuddering moan. "...but..." she gasped, her body trembling violently as the dual shafts filled her completely again. "...it feels... full... so full..." Her voice dropped to a desperate whisper. "...and... right now... deep... hitting... that spot... swollen... sensitive..." She arched against her restraints, a choked sob escaping her. "...it feels... so... good... Master... please... don't stop..."

The Black organizer laughed, low and triumphant. He slammed deeper, grinding against her cervix. "Louder!" he roared. Tzuyu obeyed, her voice cracking with raw need: "Feels... hot... burning... tearing... but... oh god... it feels... perfect! Filling me... owning me... making me... leak... like... like a good slut!" Her confession triggered another violent eruption, soaking her thighs as the organizers thrust harder, faster, claiming her broken body’s final surrender.

The White organizer groaned, his rhythm becoming erratic. "Close..." he gasped, fingers digging into her hips. Tzuyu felt his cock swell inside her, pulsing against her deepest walls. The Black organizer snarled, "Cum together... fill her!" He slammed into her with brutal force, triggering Tzuyu’s own shuddering climax—a weak, gushing spray that mingled with the torrent already pooling beneath her. Then, simultaneously, the White organizer buried himself to the hilt, unleashing thick ropes deep into her womb while the Black organizer roared, pumping his release directly against her cervix in hot, pulsing bursts. Tzuyu screamed, her body convulsing violently against the restraints as the scalding flood overwhelmed her.

Silence crashed back, broken only by Tzuyu’s ragged sobs and the wet drip-drip-drip beneath her suspended feet. The Black organizer withdrew first, his cock slick and glistening. The White organizer followed, leaving her gaping entrance exposed, twitching weakly. Tzuyu hung limp, blindfolded face tilted downward, tears and saliva soaking the silk.

"Rest period's over," the Black organizer announced, his voice thick with exertion. He moved behind her, grabbing her bruised hips roughly. "Time for the grand finale." His partner knelt, retrieving a heavy glass bottle filled with viscous, amber liquid. He poured a thick stream over her puckered rosebud, the coolness making Tzuyu flinch. "Lubricant," he stated flatly. "Industrial grade. For *contravention*." He coated his fingers thickly, then pressed two firmly against her tight ring. Tzuyu gasped, her body tensing. "No... please... not there..." she whimpered, her voice a shredded whisper. "It’s too

small..."

The White organizer ignored Tzuyu's hoarse plea, pressing his thickly lubricated thumb deep into her resisting anus with a wet pop. She cried out, her suspended body jerking against the leather restraints as he worked the digit in cruel circles, stretching the tight ring while the Black organizer poured more amber fluid down her cleft. "Shut up and relax," the Black man commanded, slapping her ass cheek hard enough to leave a crimson handprint. He coated his rigid cock with the industrial lubricant, its chemical tang sharp in the humid air. Tzuyu whimpered, her knotted muscles yielding under the brutal preparation as the White organizer added a second finger, scissoring her mercilessly. "She's ready," he grunted, withdrawing his fingers to reveal her gaping, glistening hole

.

The Black organizer positioned himself behind Tzuyu, his swollen tip pressing against her abused entrance. Simultaneously, the White organizer gripped his own cock, slick with her fluids, and pressed it firmly alongside his partner’s against the same stretched opening. Tzuyu screamed, "NO! IT WON’T FIT—" before they drove forward in unison with a savage thrust. Her anus tore open around both invading shafts, a searing burst of agony ripping through her as they buried themselves to the hilt in a single motion. Tzuyu’s body snapped rigid, a silent scream contorting her blindfolded face as her bowels convulsed around the impossible intrusion. "Breathe, slut," the Black organizer snarled, grinding deeper. "Take your masters’ cocks."

Tzuyu gasped, her voice shredded and wet. "Hurts... burns... ripping me... inside out..." Yet even as she whimpered, her vaginal walls clenched violently. A thick jet erupted from her gaping pussy, spraying hot fluid onto the floorboards—utterly untouched, spasming around empty air. The White organizer laughed, his hips pistoning against her asshole. "Liar," he hissed, fingers digging into her hips. "Your cunt’s weeping for cock. See?" Another pulse of fluid gushed freely, splattering her thighs. "Your body knows its purpose." Tzuyu sobbed, her vaginal muscles fluttering uselessly as another torrent escaped. "I... I can’t stop... leaking..."

The Black organizer slammed harder, his cockhead grinding against her prostate. "Truth time," he growled. "You love being our broken fountain." Tzuyu shook her head wildly, tears soaking the silk. "No! It hurts... tearing... please—" Her protest choked off as her pussy convulsed again, unleashing a fierce arc of fluid that hit the Black organizer’s shin. He chuckled darkly. "Your holes tell the real story." He withdrew abruptly, dragging his cock halfway out before slamming back in alongside his partner’s shaft. Tzuyu’s scream dissolved into a guttural moan—her untouched vagina answered with a shuddering gush that pooled beneath her swaying feet.

The White organizer seized her hair, wrenching her head back. "Beg for our cum," he demanded, pistoning deeper. Tzuyu’s lips trembled. "Fill me!" she gasped, the words thick with shame. "Please... breed me... Masters!" Her confession ignited a fresh torrent from her gaping pussy, splattering the floor in hot pulses. The Black organizer groaned, his rhythm faltering. "Almost there... gonna flood this greedy hole." Tzuyu whimpered, her body torn between agony and the deep, throbbing pleasure blooming beneath the brutality. Her hips jerked weakly forward, seeking more even as her ass burned like torn silk.

"NOW!" the Black organizer roared. Together, they buried themselves to the hilt. Tzuyu’s spine arched violently as twin bursts of scalding heat flooded her bowels—thick, pulsing jets that made her gasp. Her vaginal walls clenched around nothing, triggering a final, violent eruption that sprayed across the White organizer’s thighs. Tzuyu’s mouth hung open in a silent scream, blindfolded face tilted skyward as the organizers emptied themselves deep inside her.

They withdrew slowly, leaving her suspended and gaping. Tzuyu sagged against the cuffs, trembling uncontrollably. Fluid—a mix of semen, lubricant, and her own release—dripped steadily from her ruined asshole.

The White organizer gripped her hips, turning her limp body to face him. "Again," he commanded flatly. Before Tzuyu could protest, both men slammed back into her vagina simultaneously, stretching her swollen entrance around their thick shafts. Tzuyu screamed—a hoarse, tearing sound—as they pistoned in brutal unison, filling her womb with another scalding flood before pulling out. Fluid gushed freely from her gaping

hole.

Immediately, they repositioned. The Black organizer forced his cock deep into her aching asshole, followed instantly by the White organizer squeezing his shaft alongside it. Tzuyu choked on a sob as her rectal passage stretched beyond endurance, tearing anew. They hammered into her bowels relentlessly until, with twin groans, they emptied another torrent of cum inside her convulsing depths.

They withdrew abruptly, leaving her gaping holes dripping. Before Tzuyu could even gasp, they slammed back into her vagina simultaneously. Her abused entrance yielded weakly to their brutal invasion. The pistoning resumed—deep, punishing thrusts—until she felt the scalding flood fill her womb again. Released once more, Tzuyu sagged forward violently. Only the leather cuffs biting into her wrists kept her suspended body from collapsing onto the wet floor. Her muscles trembled uncontrollably, utterly

spent.

The White organizer circled her limp form, tracing cold fingers over her bruised hip. "Weak," he murmured, his voice thick with contempt. "Pathetic." Tzuyu whimpered, her blindfolded face drooping lower. "Yes... Master..." she breathed, the admission barely audible. Her knees buckled instinctively, but the restraints held her upright—a puppet dangling by shredded strings.

The Black organizer seized her jaw, forcing her head up. "Again?" he demanded, his thumb pressing hard against her split lip. Tzuyu’s eyelids fluttered beneath the silk. Her body screamed protest, but her voice emerged as a broken whisper: "Please... Masters..." Her hips jerked feebly, an automatic response burned deep into her ravaged nerves. Fluid trickled down her inner thighs, pooling beneath her dangling toes—a silent testament to the relentless cycle breaking her.

They obliged without hesitation. Simultaneous penetration—vaginal, then anal, then vaginal again—each invasion a fresh agony layered over exhaustion. Tzuyu’s screams dissolved into wet, choking gasps as they emptied themselves inside her womb, her bowels, her womb once more. The final withdrawal left her suspended like discarded meat, wrists straining against the leather cuffs—the only anchor keeping her ravaged body upright. Her muscles trembled violently, utterly spent. Fluid dripped steadily from her gaping holes onto the slick floor.

Silence stretched, thick and humid. Tzuyu hung limp, blindfolded face tilted downward. Her breathing hitched—shallow, ragged pulls of air. The organizers circled her, boots scraping wet concrete. "Cycle complete," the White man announced flatly. Tzuyu whimpered, a weak sound swallowed by the dripping quiet. Her body felt liquid, boneless—a vessel drained, used, abandoned. Only the cruel bite of the cuffs kept her upright, suspending her jelly-like form above the mess she’d become.

The Black organizer moved behind her. Rough fingers worked the leather restraints binding her wrists. They snapped open with a dull click. Tzuyu gasped—a sharp intake of breath—as her arms dropped uselessly to her sides. Her legs buckled instantly. She crumpled forward, a dead weight collapsing against the Black organizer’s bare chest. He grunted, catching her effortlessly, his thick arms wrapping around her waist. She felt small against him, utterly spent, her head lolling onto his shoulder like a broken doll. Her skin was slick with sweat and fluids, cool against his heat. He didn't speak, just turned, carrying her slumped form towards the far wall.

He lowered her with surprising care onto the cold concrete floor. Her legs sprawled bonelessly apart. He retrieved thick leather straps, securing each ankle firmly to iron rings embedded in the wall, spreading her obscenely wide. Her arms were pulled up above her head, wrists fastened to another set of rings. The posture forced her torso upright, slumped slightly forward. Her chin rested heavily on her own chest, blindfolded face hidden. Her breathing remained shallow, uneven. Every muscle trembled faintly—a hummingbird trapped in a cage of exhaustion. The position exposed her utterly: gaping holes glistening, thighs streaked with drying fluids, a ruined map of their ownership.

The White organizer approached Tzuyu’s restrained form. In his right hand, he held an obscene silicone octopus, its thick tentacles writhing around a central shaft thicker than a man’s forearm. In his left, he gripped a brutal string of bull anal beads, each black sphere a solid 9 centimeters in diameter, ending in a heavy metal ring. He knelt silently between her spread legs. The cold air-conditioning hummed faintly overhead. Tzuyu flinched as the first cold, slippery bead pressed against her gaping asshole. "What..." she slurred weakly, head lolling. "Master?"

The Black organizer leaned over her shoulder, his rough fingers finding the silk knot of her blindfold. With a sharp tug, the fabric fell away. Tzuyu blinked rapidly against the sudden glare of fluorescent lights. Her bleary eyes focused slowly on the grotesque silicone monstrosity hovering inches from her ravaged vagina. Her lips parted. "No," she whispered, her voice cracked and frail. "That... won't fit... please..." The White organizer ignored her, pressing the first cold bead relentlessly into her stretched hole. The Black organizer chuckled low in her ear, his breath hot. "Quiet."

Tzuyu watched in mute horror as the White organizer pushed bead after bead deep into her rectum, the heavy ring clinking against the concrete floor beneath her. Simultaneously, he positioned the thick tentacled head against her vaginal entrance. She whimpered, a dry rasp escaping her throat. "Master... it's too... big..." Her protest dissolved into a choked gasp as the White organizer shoved the silicone monstrosity brutally inside her. Her vaginal walls screamed in protest, stretched impossibly wide around the invading mass. Her hips jerked uselessly against the restraints. The Black organizer gripped her jaw, forcing her to watch. "Look," he commanded. Tzuyu’s eyes widened in terrified fascination as the tentacles began to writhe mechanically against her inner walls.

The Black organizer leaned close, his voice a low rumble vibrating against her ear. "We need to make sure our mixed cum didn't flood out," he stated flatly, his fingers tracing the obscene bulge stretching her lower abdomen. "These two things"—he gestured at the buried anal beads and the pulsating silicone mass—"will go inside and hold our mixed cum to out from ur gaping holes." Tzuyu whimpered, understanding dawning. The beads plugged her asshole; the tentacled monstrosity expanded and pulsed, forming a grotesque internal cork sealing her womb. She felt impossibly full, stretched beyond endurance, yet horrifyingly contained. Her vaginal muscles fluttered weakly against the silicone prison, triggering a sharp pang of trapped sensation deep within her pelvis.

A low vibration started deep inside the silicone plug. Tzuyu gasped as the tentacles intensified their writhing motion, massaging her cervix and inner walls with relentless, alien pressure. Simultaneously, the anal beads began a slow, rhythmic rotation deep in her bowels. Tzuyu’s back arched off the concrete floor. "No... oh god... it’s... moving..." she choked out, her voice thick with panic and a terrifying, building pressure. The vibrations intensified, the tentacles kneading her deepest nerves while the beads twisted inside her rectum. Her body trembled violently, trapped between the restraints and the dual internal assault. A muffled gurgle escaped her lips as her womb clenched futilely against the silicone barrier. Fluid tried to escape her vagina, but met only unyielding resistance; her asshole strained against the thick beads, utterly contained.

The White organizer knelt beside her, his expression impassive. He pressed a button on a small remote. The tentacles inside her suddenly pulsed with fierce suction, pulling relentlessly against her cervix while the vibration intensified to a brutal hum. Tzuyu screamed—a raw, ragged sound tearing from her throat—as her body convulsed violently against the straps. Her hips bucked, her spine arched impossibly high, suspended only by the leather cuffs. Deep inside, the trapped pressure built to a crescendo, a volcanic agony of denied release centered on her womb and bowels. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she gasped, "Hurts... too full... bursting... Masters... please!" Her plea echoed in the sterile room, unanswered, as the machines inside her continued their cruel, holding rhythm.

The Black organizer moved to stand above her restrained head, his shadow falling across her tear-streaked face. He unzipped his fly, freeing his still-hard cock. "Open," he commanded, his voice devoid of inflection. Tzuyu’s lips trembled, her eyes wide with dawning horror. "Master... no..." she whimpered weakly. He gripped her jaw, forcing it open wide. "This," he stated flatly, "is a parting gift." A hot, pungent stream of piss hit the back of her throat. Tzuyu gagged violently, choking as the acrid fluid flooded her mouth. She tried to turn her head, but his grip was iron. The stream intensified, splashing over her cheeks, nose, and eyelids, soaking her hair and pooling in the hollow of her throat. "Swallow," he ordered, his piss flowing relentlessly. Tzuyu choked, convulsed, and finally obeyed, gulping down the bitter torrent as it flowed.

Beside her, the White organizer unzipped. Without ceremony, he aimed his stream directly onto Tzuyu's face, mixing with the Black organizer’s flow. "Consider it... baptism," he grunted, piss spraying her forehead, blinding her momentarily as it stung her eyes. Tzuyu sputtered, gagged, and swallowed convulsively, unable to escape the dual assault. The warm, salty fluid filled her nostrils, dripped into her ears, matted her hair into dark, wet clumps against the concrete floor. Her body jerked uselessly against the restraints, a trapped animal drowning in the humiliation. "Before we go," the Black organizer stated coldly, his stream finally tapering off, "remember this taste. Remember who owns you." They both stepped back, leaving her gasping, soaked in their urine, the sour reek thick in the air.

The Black organizer retrieved Tzuyu’s phone from a nearby bench. He knelt beside her, ignoring her shuddering breaths and the fluids dripping from her chin. "Smile for your prince," he sneered, positioning the camera. The flash exploded, blinding her anew. The photo captured her in brutal detail: soaked hair plastered to her tear-streaked face, blindfold gone revealing wide, terrified eyes, leather straps straining against her spread ankles and wrists, the obscene bulge of the tentacle plug stretching her lower abdomen, the anal bead ring glinting coldly on the floor beneath her gaping asshole. He typed swiftly, attaching the image. The White organizer leaned in, dictating the message in a flat tone: "This is ur princess right now." The Black organizer hit send, the electronic whoosh slicing through the silence. Tzuyu whimpered, imagining her boyfriend’s horror as the notification lit up his screen.

Heejin Loona :

A true identity

Kim Chaewon :

The best party

The beast party

The best beast party

Gambler

Kim minju :

First of all

The best party

The beast party

The best beast party

The best manager pt 1

Selling herself

Contract Consequences

Ningning :

Performance after concert

Performance at concert pt 2

Winter :

Happy birthday

Scandal Payment

Ambassador Contract pt 2

Karina :

Happy birthday

Seeking attention

Unforgettable kidnapping

A regret

Prada Succubus

Ambassador Contract

Ahn yujin :

Biggest secret

A regret

Wonyoung :

Biggest secret

A regret

Tzuyu :

Something new

Best choice of my life

Performance disaster

Punishment for Voice Crack

Yeji :

Fun Camping

Huh Yunjin :

The porn shoot

The porn shoot pt2

Mina :

Sacrifice for Husband

Special Fanmeet

Kim Gaeul :

Beetwen two worlds

Sana :

Wildest dream

Special Fanmeet

Ambassador Contract pt 2

Saerom :

Waterbomb effect

Kwon Eunbi :

A Dare to Remember

The Best Manager pt 1

Miyeon :

Behind the Spotlight

Momo :

Special Fanmeet

Jiheon :

Rebellious Students

Isa :

Private Party

Nagyung :

Winter sat cross-legged on her bed, her eyes glazed over as she stared at the glowing screen of her phone. The room was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the thunderous applause and screams that usually filled her ears during performances. Her heart raced, a wild stallion galloping through her chest, as she scrolled through the articles that had turned her world upside down. The headlines were a blur of accusations and betrayal. How had it come to this?

Her manager, Mr. Kim, knocked tentatively on the door, his voice a trembling whisper. "Winter, the CEO is here to see you. Are you ready?"

Winter took a deep, shaky breath and nodded, even though she felt anything but prepared. She knew the gravity of the situation, the weight of the scandal threatening to crush her career and her life. She had to face the music.

Mr. Park, the CEO of the agency, walked in with a solemn expression. He was a man who had seen the darkest side of the industry, his eyes reflecting a reservoir of unspoken secrets. He glanced at her, his gaze a mixture of pity and resignation. "Winter," he began, his voice a heavy sigh, "we've got a problem."

Her stomach twisted into a knot. She had been dreading this moment, the moment when her entire world could come crashing down around her. She had always worked so hard, striving for perfection in every move, every note, every smile for the cameras. And now, it could all be taken away because of one mistake.

"It's... it's not what it looks like," she stuttered, her voice barely above a whisper. But she knew the truth was written all over her face.

Mr. Park sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world rested upon them. "I know it's not easy for you," he said, his voice softer now. "But the damage is done. The company's reputation is at stake."

Winter's eyes widened in horror as she realized what he was implying. The scandal wasn't just about her anymore; it had become a battle for the agency's survival. Her heart pounded in her chest like a drum, echoing the fear that had taken root in her soul.

"What... what do you want me to do?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Mr. Park leaned forward, his eyes boring into hers with a fierce intensity. "I have one solution," he said, his voice a low growl. "One way to save both of us. It won't be easy, but it's the only way out."

Winter felt a chill run down her spine. She knew she was about to make a deal with the devil. But she was desperate, clinging to the last thread of hope.

"I'll do anything," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Mr. Park's eyes narrowed, a glint of something akin to victory sparkling in them. "One of our investors," he said slowly, "has made an offer. He's willing to help us cover up this... incident."

Winter felt the blood drain from her face. "What kind of help?" she asked, though she already knew what was coming.

"He wants you to be his... companion," Mr. Park said, his voice thick with the unspoken words. "If you agree to this arrangement, we can keep this scandal under wraps and your career can continue. You'll be under his protection, but you'll still be part of the company. You can still be an idol."

The room spun around her, the walls closing in as if the very air had turned to lead. A sex slave. That's what she was being offered as a lifeline. Winter felt the bile rise in her throat, the thought of giving up her body, her very being, to some faceless monster too much to bear. Yet, the alternative was unthinkable. Ruin, disgrace, and the end of everything she had worked for.

"You're asking me to sell myself," she managed to croak out, her voice a hoarse whisper.

Mr. Park nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's the only way," he said firmly. "It's either this or face the consequences. The choice is yours."

Winter felt like she was drowning, her thoughts racing faster than she could comprehend. Her mind was a tumultuous storm of fear, anger, and despair. But amidst the chaos, a flicker of defiance began to burn. She had worked too hard, come too far, to let it all slip away without a fight.

"Fine," she said through gritted teeth, her voice shaking with the weight of her words. "I'll do it."

The CEO's expression didn't change, but she could see the tension in his shoulders ease slightly. "Good," he said, his voice cold. "I'll arrange everything. You'll be informed of the details when it's all set."

Winter nodded numbly, her mind racing. How had it come to this? She had always been the good girl, the one who followed the rules, the one who had it all figured out. And now she was being sentenced to a life of servitude.

Days passed in a blur, each one more surreal than the last. Her world had shrunk to the confines of her room, where she waited for the message that would dictate her fate. It came in the form of a sleek black envelope slipped under her door. Inside, a simple note with an address and the words "Come to this private mansion. Wear only a jacket without anything fabric inside. Mr. Y/N is waiting."

Her heart pounded in her chest as she read the message over and over, trying to convince herself that this was just a nightmare, that she would wake up any moment. But the cold reality remained, seeping into her bones like a relentless frost.

The day arrived, and with it, the heavy weight of her decision. She showered, trying to scrub away the feeling of filth that clung to her skin. She slipped on the jacket, the chilly air of the early spring evening brushing against her bare skin beneath it. The fabric was all that stood between her and the unknown.

With trembling hands, she took a cab to the address provided. The mansion was a fortress of opulence, nestled in the heart of a quiet neighborhood. Its grandeur was a stark reminder of the power she was about to face.

Winter stepped out of the taxi, her legs threatening to buckle under the gravity of her situation. The massive gates swung open, revealing a long, winding driveway lined with meticulously trimmed hedges. The house loomed before her, its windows dark and mysterious, like the eyes of a predator watching its prey.

The door to the mansion opened, and a man in a tailored suit emerged, his face a stoic mask. He gestured for her to follow, and she took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. The door closed behind her with a finality that echoed through her soul.

The interior was like something out of a magazine, with gleaming marble floors and grand chandeliers casting dramatic shadows on the walls. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne and a hint of something else, something darker and more sinister.

Mr. Y/N was waiting for her in a dimly lit drawing room, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He was older, with silver hair and a sharp jawline, his eyes as cold as the metal around his fingers.

"Welcome," he said, his voice like velvet over gravel. "I trust you've come to your senses."

Winter's stomach churned, but she forced a smile, her heart hammering in her chest. "Thank you for... helping me," she managed, her voice a shaky whisper.

He took a sip of his drink, his gaze never leaving hers. "Consider it an investment," he said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "An investment in your future."

The words sent a shiver down her spine. She knew what he meant. This wasn't just a one-time deal; she was being bought and paid for, a commodity to be used at his whim.

"Now," Mr. Y/N said, setting his glass down on a side table with a clink. "Let's get started, shall we?"

Winter's mind rebelled, but her body obeyed. She knew she had made her choice, and there was no going back now. As she followed him up the grand staircase, she couldn't help but feel like she was climbing the steps to her own personal hell.

When they reached the top, Mr. Y/N turned to face her, his eyes darkening as they swept over her bare skin. "Open the jacket," he instructed, his voice a low growl.

Her hands trembled as she slowly unbuttoned the jacket, revealing herself to him. She felt exposed, vulnerable, a piece of meat on display for his perusal. The cold air in the mansion nipped at her skin, making her shiver.

Mr. Y/N took a step closer, his eyes lingering on her body like a connoisseur examining a fine piece of art. "Very good," he murmured, his voice a caress that made her skin crawl. "Now, let's go to your new quarters."

He led her down a long hallway lined with closed doors, each one a potential nightmare waiting to be unlocked. Finally, he stopped at one and opened it, revealing a plush, velvet-covered room that looked more like a prison cell than a bedroom.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of flowers, almost cloying in its sweetness. The walls were lined with mirrors, reflecting her image back at her from every angle, a constant reminder of the deal she had made.

Mr. Y/N's eyes raked over her, a hunger in his gaze that made her stomach churn. He took another step closer, his breath warm against her cheek as he reached out to trace the line of her neck with one finger. "You're more beautiful than I imagined," he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

Winter felt his hands slide down her body, the fabric of her jacket whispering against her skin as he pushed it off her shoulders. It fell to the floor, leaving her naked and trembling before him. His gaze dipped to her breasts, his pupils dilating as he took in the sight of her hardened nipples.

Without a word, he leaned in, his mouth closing over one sensitive peak. He sucked hard, his teeth grazing the tender flesh, and she couldn't help the gasp that tore from her lips. The sensation was almost unbearable, a mix of pleasure and pain that had her body responding despite her mind's protest.

He moved to the other side, giving her no reprieve, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub before he bit down, eliciting a whimper. Her body was a traitor, arching towards him, craving more of the exquisite agony he was inflicting.

The room spun around her, the world narrowing to the feel of his mouth on her body. She felt his hands on her hips, guiding her back towards the bed, and she knew what was to come next. But she couldn't stop it, couldn't even bring herself to protest as he pushed her down onto the soft, velvet surface.

Mr. Y/N's eyes gleamed with victory as he climbed over her, his body pressing her into the mattress. He trailed kisses down her torso, each one leaving a fiery path in its wake. When he reached her navel, he paused, his tongue flicking out to taste her.

Winter's breath hitched as his mouth moved lower, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. His hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as his mouth found her most intimate spot. She wanted to scream, to push him away, but she was paralyzed with fear and a perverse excitement that she despised herself for feeling.

He took his time, savoring her like a fine wine, his tongue dancing around her clit with a skill that belied his age. She felt herself responding, her body betraying her once more as she grew wetter, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

And then, just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, he stopped, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror above the bed. "You're mine now," he said, his voice a dark promise. "And I intend to enjoy every inch of you."

Winter's body was a live wire, her nerves singing with the anticipation of what was to come. She felt his hand slide down her stomach, his fingers delving into her wetness, and she couldn't help but arch her back in response. He chuckled, a sound that sent a shiver down her spine, and then his mouth was back on her, his tongue lapping at her clit with an intensity that stole her breath away.

Her body tensed, her muscles coiling tight as a spring. And then, with a suddenness that took her by surprise, she felt it. The warm rush of liquid that spurted from her, soaking his face as she lost control. Mr. Y/N's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he licked at her, savoring the taste of her submission.

The sensation was overwhelming, the most intense thing she had ever felt. It was as if her entire being was concentrated in that one point of pleasure, exploding outwards in a shower of sensation. Her legs trembled, her body shaking with the force of her release.

Mr. Y/N pulled away, his face glistening with her arousal. He licked her lips, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirror. "Magnificent," he murmured, his voice a low rumble of approval.

Winter felt a twist of shame, but it was quickly overshadowed by the realization of what she had just done. She had squirted for this man, this stranger who now owned her. It was a humiliating reminder of her new reality, one that sent a jolt of arousal through her body despite herself.

He climbed off the bed, his erection straining against his pants as he moved to a closet and pulled out a set of restraints. "Time to get comfortable," he said, his smile cold and predatory.

Her heart racing, she watched as he approached the bed, the restraints jangling in his hand. She knew she had no choice but to submit, to become the plaything he desired. She allowed him to bind her wrists to the bedposts, the leather biting into her skin as he secured them tightly.

Mr. Y/N's eyes gleamed as he surveyed his handiwork. "Now," he said, his voice a low growl, "we can truly begin."

He unbuttoned his shirt with deliberate slowness, revealing a chest that was as hard and unyielding as the rest of him. His pants followed, pooling at his ankles to reveal the monstrous erection that strained against his boxers. Winter couldn't tear her eyes away, a mix of fear and fascination warring within her.

With a smirk, he pushed his underwear down, freeing his cock. It was massive, a thick, veiny beast that stood proud and erect before her. At least twelve inches of pure, unadulterated power, a symbol of his dominance over her. She had never seen anything so big, so intimidating. Her eyes widened as he stroked it, watching as it grew even larger.

Mr. Y/N stepped closer to the bed, his cock mere inches from her face. "This," he said, his voice a velvet caress, "is what you're going to serve from now on. You're going to take it any way I want it, whenever I want it."

Winter's breathing grew shallow as she stared at the imposing member before her. She had never felt so small, so powerless. Yet, a strange thrill coursed through her, a dark excitement that she didn't want to admit to herself.

He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between her legs. Her heart hammered in her chest like a wild beast trying to break free. The weight of his body was like a mountain pressing her into the mattress.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, his hand guiding her chin up.

Winter stared at the massive cock in front of her, the tip glistening with precum. "It's so big," she said, her voice trembling. "I don't think it can fit."

Mr. Y/N chuckled darkly. "You'll manage," he assured her, his voice filled with the promise of painful pleasure.

With a deep breath, she parted her lips, feeling the head of his cock brush against them. It was hot and heavy, the pressure making her mouth water with a mix of fear and anticipation. He pushed forward, and she felt the tip enter her mouth, stretching her lips wide. His hands were in her hair now, guiding her, urging her to take more.

"Relax," he murmured, his voice a dark whisper in the quiet room. "Take it slow."

Winter did as she was told, her eyes never leaving the mirror. She watched as his cock slid deeper, inch by inch, her mouth stretching to accommodate his girth. Her teeth grazed the sensitive skin, and she tasted the saltiness of his desire.

The feel of his cock filling her mouth was almost too much, the sensation overwhelming her senses. She could feel the veins pulsing beneath her tongue, the power in his grip as he held her head in place. He began to thrust gently, pushing her boundaries with every stroke.

Panic began to bubble in her chest as she struggled to breathe, her throat tightening around him. "I... I can't," she gasped, her eyes pleading in the reflection.

But Mr. Y/N was relentless, his eyes dark with hunger. "You'll learn," he said, his voice a low growl. "You'll learn to take it all."

He pushed deeper, the head of his cock touching the back of her throat. She gagged, her eyes watering, but he didn't stop. Instead, he began to fuck her mouth, his hips rocking in a slow, steady rhythm.

Winter's eyes widened as she felt her throat opening for him, the muscles relaxing despite her fear. She took a deep, shaky breath through her nose, focusing on the feeling of his cock sliding in and out, the way it filled her up.

To her surprise, she found herself growing wetter, the sensation of being used, of being his to do with as he pleased, turning her on in a way she had never experienced before.

Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions – fear, anger, humiliation, and a dark, pulsing need. She hated herself for it, but she couldn't deny the way her body was responding to his dominance.

And as he continued to use her mouth, pushing her further than she ever thought possible, she realized that she had made a deal with the devil. And she was about to pay the price in full.

Winter's saliva began to dribble from the corners of her mouth, trickling down her chin and onto her chest. She felt the warmth spread across her skin, a stark contrast to the coldness of the room. It was a humiliating reminder of her new role, a symbol of her degradation that seemed to only fuel Mr. Y/N's desire. He watched the droplets with a hunger that made her stomach turn and her pussy throb in equal measure.

"You're doing very well," he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he praised her efforts. "Your mouth is so tight, so eager to please me."

As his praise continued, she felt something shift within her, a strange pride swelling in her chest. Despite the fear and disgust, she found herself eager to make him happy, to satisfy his hunger. His grip on her hair tightened, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he approached climax.

Suddenly, just as she felt the pressure of his cock about to burst within her, he pulled out, his hand coming to rest on her cheek. The head of his cock hovered before her, the veins bulging and pulsing with the force of his impending release.

With a guttural groan, Mr. Y/N pulled back and sprayed her face with his hot, sticky cum. It hit her like a warm, wet slap, coating her cheeks, her nose, and her mouth. Winter's eyes widened with shock, but she couldn't help the way her tongue darted out to catch a rogue drop that had landed on her bottom lip.

He watched her, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirror, as he painted her face with his seed. She felt a mix of revulsion and arousal, a confusing cocktail that left her trembling and breathless. When he was done, he leaned in, his cock still semi-hard and glistening with the remnants of his release.

"Look at yourself," he said, his voice a harsh whisper. "Look at what you've become."

Winter stared at her reflection, her eyes red-rimmed and her face a mess of cum. She had never felt so exposed, so utterly owned. And yet, there was something undeniably erotic about it, something that had her body begging for more.

"Now, get on all fours," Mr. Y/N ordered, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down her spine.

With trembling legs, she complied, her knees hitting the plush carpet with a soft thud. The coldness of the room was a stark contrast to the heat between her legs, her pussy aching for his touch. As she positioned herself, she couldn't help but feel like a creature at his mercy, a pet awaiting its master's command.

He climbed off the bed, his eyes never leaving her. She watched in the mirror as he walked over to a nearby dresser, his erection still at half-mast. He opened a drawer, the sound of leather and metal clinking together reaching her ears. Her heart raced, her breathing shallow and fast as she waited for what was to come.

When he turned back to her, he was holding a riding crop. The sight of it sent a fresh wave of fear and excitement through her. "You're going to learn to be a good girl," he said, his voice a dark promise. "And this will help."

He approached the bed, the crop swishing through the air as he walked. "Spread your legs," he instructed, his eyes cold and calculating.

Winter did as she was told, her thighs parting to expose her wet pussy. She felt vulnerable, like prey caught in the sights of a predator. He stepped closer, the scent of leather and his cologne wrapping around her like a noose.

He trailed the tip of the crop along her spine, the sensation sending goosebumps racing across her skin. She couldn't help but arch her back, presenting herself to him like the whore she had become.

Without warning, the crop came down hard on her ass, the sting making her yelp. The pain was a shock, a bolt of lightning that sent her senses reeling. But it was quickly followed by a pulse of pleasure that had her pussy clenching around nothing.

Mr. Y/N chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he watched her squirm. "Again," he said, the crop rising and falling with a sickening thwack.

Winter bit her lip, the pain turning to fire as he struck her again and again. But with every blow, the heat grew, the flames of desire licking at her core until she was a writhing mess of need and desperation.

"Fuck," she panted, her voice high and tight. "It's too big. It won't fit."

Mr. Y/N chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. "Don't worry," he said, his voice a dark whisper. "We'll make it fit."

He set the crop aside, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirror. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he reached down and stroked her swollen clit. The pleasure was instant, a spark that ignited the bonfire of her lust. He circled the sensitive nub with his thumb, watching her reactions with a clinical interest.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, her body trembling as she moaned, her pussy clenching and unclenching in anticipation. He took his time, building the fire until she was begging for release, her hips bucking back towards his hand.

And then, without warning, he stopped, his cock nudging at her entrance. It was a blunt, thick presence that made her gasp.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine.

Winter nodded, her body trembling with anticipation. She knew this was the moment she had been dreading, the moment she would be truly claimed.

Mr. Y/N gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he pushed forward. She felt the tip of his cock breach her, the pressure almost unbearable.

"Relax," he murmured, his voice a dark caress. "Take a deep breath and push back."

With a whimper, she did as she was told, feeling the head of his cock pop inside her. The pain was like a knife, stealing her breath and making her eyes water. But she didn't stop, didn't pull away, driven by a need she didn't fully understand.

He pushed further, inch by torturous inch, until she was stretched to the limit. Her muscles protested, her pussy screaming for relief. But the pain was mixed with a pleasure so intense it was almost indistinguishable.

"Please," she gasped, her voice a desperate plea. "I can't..."

But he was relentless, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirror. "You can," he said, his voice a harsh command. "You will."

And with one final, brutal thrust, he seated himself fully inside her, his balls slapping against her ass. She felt like she was being split in two, the agony and ecstasy blending into one overwhelming wave that crashed over her.

Mr. Y/N didn't give her time to adjust, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm that sent shockwaves through her body. The pain grew with every thrust, but so did the pleasure, a twisted dance that had her moaning his name.

"You're so tight," he groaned, his grip on her hips tightening. "So perfect."

Winter's eyes widened in the mirror, the pain of his entry like a brand seared into her very soul. She had never felt so full, so stretched, so... violated. But even as the agony tore through her, she felt her pussy clench around him, her body's natural response to the intrusion.

"Fuck, Mr. Y/N," she whimpered, her voice a desperate plea.

He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back as he whispered in her ear. "Call me 'Master'. It's what you're here for."

The word was like a slap across the face, the reality of her situation hitting her with the force of a freight train. She was no longer Winter, the beloved idol. She was a sex toy, a plaything for this monster.

"M-Master," she corrected, her voice shaking.

His thrusts grew more forceful, his cock pounding into her like a hammer against an anvil. Each stroke sent a fresh wave of pain through her, making her scream.

"FUCKKK, MY PUSSY WAS TORN," she screamed, the pain so intense it stole her breath away.

Mr. Y/N's only response was a growl of satisfaction, his pace never faltering. She felt her insides tear, her body protesting the brutal invasion, but she knew it was too late to turn back now. She had made her deal with the devil, and she would see it through.

The room was a blur of pain and pleasure, the two intertwining until she couldn't tell one from the other. Her mind was a whirlwind of fear, anger, and a dark, twisted desire that had her panting for more.

With every thrust, she felt herself slipping further and further away from the girl she once was, her identity fading like a distant memory. But even as the pain grew, so did the thrill, the excitement of being used so completely.

Her orgasm built, a crescendo of sensation that threatened to shatter her into a million pieces. "Master, please," she begged, her voice a ragged whisper. "I'm going to come."

Mr. Y/N chuckled, his grip on her hips tightening. "Cum for me," he ordered, his voice a dark rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. "Squirt for me."

Winter's eyes widened as he pulled his cock out of her, the sudden emptiness making her gasp. But she knew what he wanted, what he was waiting for. With a cry of pure abandon, she pushed back against his hand, her pussy clenching around his fingers as she came.

The release was explosive, a geyser of liquid that spurted from her, soaking the bed beneath her. Her body convulsed, her muscles tightening and releasing in waves of pure pleasure. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, a powerful, primal force that seemed to consume her.

Mr. Y/N watched with a hungry gaze, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirror. "Beautiful," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "You're a natural."

Winter's cheeks flushed with a mix of pride and embarrassment. She had never felt so exposed, so utterly vulnerable. But she couldn't deny the thrill of his praise, the way it made her pulse race.

He slammed back into her, the sudden intrusion making her gasp. The angle was different now, the head of his cock hitting a spot deep inside her that had her toes curling with every thrust. It was like he had found a secret button, one that sent her hurtling towards the edge of oblivion.

With his free hand, Mr. Y/N reached around and slapped her ass, the sound echoing through the silent room. "Tell me," he growled, his breath hot against her ear. "Tell me what you want. Tell me how it feels."

Winter's eyes rolled back in her head, her mind a haze of pain and pleasure. "I want... I want it all," she moaned, the words spilling from her lips like a confession. "I want you to use me, to fill me up."

He slapped her again, the sting making her pussy clench around him. "And how does it feel?" he demanded.

"It feels..." she gasped, her voice trailing off as she searched for the right words. "It feels like... I'm on fire. Like I'm being torn apart and put back together."

Mr. Y/N's hand came down again, the pain turning her words into a scream. "Again," he said, his voice a harsh whisper. "Tell me again."

"It feels amazing," she managed, her voice hoarse. "It feels like... like nothing I've ever felt before."

The slap of his hand on her ass grew more rhythmic, matching the tempo of his hips. "And do you want more?" he asked, his voice a low, dark rumble.

Winter could feel the orgasm building, a pressure that threatened to consume her. "Yes," she panted. "More, Master. Please."

With a smirk, he reached between her legs, his thumb finding her clit. He began to rub in tight circles, the added sensation pushing her closer to the brink. "Beg for it," he said, his voice a command.

"Please," she whispered, the word a desperate plea. "Please, I need it."

He increased his pace, the friction of his thumb driving her wild. "Say it," he demanded. "Tell me what you need."

"I need your cock," she gasped, her voice a needy whine. "I need you to fuck me, to make me squirt again."

The words were like a trigger, and she felt it building, the pressure growing until she couldn't hold it back any longer. With a scream, she came again, her pussy pulsing around him as he continued to pound into her.

Mr. Y/N's breath grew ragged, his own release close. He pulled out, the wet sound making her whimper. "Look at me," he ordered, his voice strained.

Winter managed to lift her head, her eyes meeting his in the mirror. "Master," she whispered, her voice shaking.

He stroked himself, his hand a blur as he worked his cock. "Tell me," he said, his voice tight with need. "Tell me how much you want it."

"I want it," she moaned, her pussy still clenching in the aftermath of her climax. "I want it all."

Mr. Y/N chuckled darkly, the sound a stark contrast to the desperation in her voice. He positioned the tip of his cock at her entrance once more, watching her with a hunger that seemed to consume him. "You're going to take it," he said, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirror. "You're going to take it all."

With one powerful thrust, he was back inside her, filling her completely. Winter's eyes rolled back in her head, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful. She could feel herself stretching around him, her body trying to accommodate his massive size.

"Fuck," she whimpered, her voice a desperate plea. "It's too much."

Mr. Y/N leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back as he began to fuck her with a ferocity that stole her breath. "Is it?" he asked, his voice a low growl. "Is it really too much?"

Winter's eyes met his in the mirror, the need in his gaze reflecting the tumult of emotions churning within her. "No," she gasped, the word torn from her lips. "It's... it's not enough."

The room was filled with the slap of skin against skin, the sound of their ragged breathing. Her moans grew louder, the pleasure building like a storm within her. She had never felt so alive, so consumed by another person.

With every stroke, she felt herself slipping further and further into darkness, into a world where pleasure and pain were one and the same. She had never been so lost, so utterly at the mercy of another.

Mr. Y/N's hand came down on her ass again, the pain making her jolt. "You're mine," he said, his voice a dark promise. "You're mine to use, to break, to build back up again."

Winter's body responded to his words, her pussy clenching around him like a vise. "Yes," she whispered, her voice a ragged confession. "I'm yours."

He slammed into her, the force of his thrusts making the bed shake beneath them. "Good girl," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "Such a good, obedient little slut."

Winter's eyes squeezed shut, the sting of his words only adding to the whirlwind of sensation. She didn't want to be a slut, didn't want to be used like this, but she couldn't deny the way her body responded to his commands. Her pussy clenched around him, her orgasm building with every brutal penetration.

"Yeah," she panted, her voice a desperate plea. "Keep fucking me, Master. Make me forget."

The pressure grew, a tight coil of need that threatened to shatter her into a million pieces. She could feel herself slipping away, her mind a blank canvas of sensation. The pain in her ass, the fullness in her pussy, the burning in her throat from screaming his name – it was all she knew, all she was.

And then it hit her, the orgasm ripping through her like a tornado. She felt her pussy spasm around his cock, her muscles contracting in a symphony of pleasure. "Master," she screamed, her voice hoarse. "I'm cumming!"

Mr. Y/N chuckled darkly, his thrusts never slowing. "I know," he said, his voice a low growl. "And I'm going to keep fucking you until you can't think anymore."

Her vision swam, the world around her fading into a haze of ecstasy. The only thing that remained was the feeling of his cock pounding into her, the sound of his slaps echoing in her ears. She was lost, adrift in a sea of pleasure that seemed to have no end.

"Cum for me," he ordered, his voice a harsh command that sent shivers down her spine. "Cum until you can't move."

Winter felt her body respond, her pussy spasming around him as she climaxed again. The pleasure was so intense it was almost painful, a never-ending wave that crashed over her again and again. She didn't know how much more she could take, didn't know if she would survive this.

But even as she thought it, she felt the need building once more, the hunger growing insatiable. She was a creature of pure instinct, a living embodiment of lust.

With a final, brutal thrust, Mr. Y/N released his hold on her, his cum flooding her insides. She felt herself contract around him, her orgasm milking him for every last drop. It was a powerful, primal feeling that left her trembling and exhausted.

She’s completely naked beneath you. Pale, smooth skin flushed pink, small but perfect tits bouncing with every hard stroke. Her legs are bent and pulled back toward her chest, giving you full access. You grip her slim thighs tightly, fingers digging into soft flesh as you pound her without mercy, driving your thick cock in and out of her slick heat over and over.

“Fuuuck… so tight.”

You groan, eyes locked on where your shaft disappears between her glistening folds.

She’s wearing a black lace eye mask that completely covers her eyes and upper face, leaving only her pretty pink lips and delicate jaw visible. Because of it, you still can’t be 100% sure who she is. You think it’s IU, but that seems impossible. Why the hell would IU show up at your hotel room door like this?

Half an hour earlier, you had opened your door after a soft knock, expecting room service or maybe a wrong room. Instead, there she stood in the dimly lit hallway: a petite woman in a white hotel robe that barely reached mid-thigh, a black lace eye mask on her face, phone held up in one hand like she was recording. Her voice was soft, slightly shy, but direct.

“Hi… I saw you earlier at the elevator. Would you like to shoot some content with me for my OnlyFans? I’ll pay you well. No faces for you, and I’ll stay masked. Just… raw and real. Are you in?”

You barely had time to process before she let the robe slip off her shoulders, revealing her naked body underneath. The next thing you knew, the door was locked, the phone was propped up on the nightstand recording everything, and you were balls-deep inside the tightest, wettest pussy you’d ever felt.

Now you’re fucking her like your life depends on it.

You lean forward, changing the angle so your cock drags against her front wall with every thrust. She lets out a high, sweet moan that sounds exactly like IU’s voice from all the songs you’ve heard. Her hands clutch the sheets above her head, back arching hard as you rail her.

“Ahh-! Harder…Fuck me harder, please…”

You oblige, gripping her narrow waist and pounding into her with deep, brutal strokes. Her pussy squeezes around you steadily, soaking your cock and balls with her juices. The wet sounds of her cunt taking every inch fill the room.

You still can’t believe this is real. Is this actually IU? The sweet, innocent-looking national treasure of Korea? Or just some insanely hot lookalike who does secret OnlyFans work?

Either way, you don’t care right now.

You slam into her again and again, watching her tits bounce and her masked face twist in pleasure. Her mouth stays open in a constant moan, tongue occasionally darting out to wet her lips. You reach down and rub her swollen clit with your thumb while continuing to destroy her pussy. Her whole body jerks violently.

“Oh my god-! I’m-I’m cuming-!”

Her walls clamp down hard around your cock as she orgasms, pulsing and gushing around you. You keep thrusting through it. You fuck her straight through her climax until her legs shake. Her tight pussy flutters and squeezes around your cock as she rides out the waves. Her sweet moans fill the room, but you’re already feeling that familiar pressure building deep in your core. Your balls tighten, heat rushing up your spine. You spread her legs even wider, pushing her knees toward her shoulders so she’s folded almost in half beneath you. Leaning over her small frame, you start destroying her cunt with short, brutal strokes, slamming into her as deep as you can go.

“I’m close. Fuck, I’m really close…”

“Please… cum on my face. Cum all over my face… I want it. Please-”

That’s all it takes. You fuck her hard for a few more seconds, pounding her soaked pussy until you can’t hold back any longer. With a groan, you pull out of her dripping heat and quickly scoot forward on the bed. You’re no longer kneeling between her legs. You’re straddling her chest now, your slick cock hovering right above her masked face. You stroke yourself fast and hard, staring down at her. IU obediently opens her mouth wide, tongue sliding out as she makes a soft, lewd “Aaaah” sound, waiting for you like a perfect little cumslut. It feels strange for a second, cuming on a woman whose eyes you can’t even see, someone you’re not even sure is really IU. But in this moment, none of that matters. The pressure is too much.

You cum hard. Thick ropes of cum shoot across her face. The first shot lands straight into her open mouth, painting her tongue. The next splatter across her cheek and the black lace mask. More streaks land on her lips, her chin, and the bridge of her nose. You keep stroking, milking every last drop onto her pretty, masked face until you’re completely spent.

You stay there for a moment, kneeling above her chest, breathing heavily as you admire the mess you made. Her face is covered in your cum, some dripping down her cheeks, some pooling on her tongue, the white contrasting beautifully against the black lace.

IU closes her mouth and swallows audibly.

“Mmm… delicious. You taste really good…”

Without hesitation, she lifts her head slightly and wraps her soft lips around your sensitive cock, sucking you clean. Her tongue swirls gently around your shaft. She licks up every remaining drop of cum. She takes you deeper into her warm mouth, sucking softly until you’re spotless.

You groan at the gentle overstimulation, one hand instinctively resting on the top of her head as she finishes cleaning you. You expect her to stop after a minute or two. Most women would pull off once they’ve cleaned you up, maybe give you a shy smile or ask if you want to keep filming. But IU doesn’t stop. Her soft, warm mouth keeps working your sensitive cock with slow, lazy sucks. Her tongue swirls gently around your shaft, licking every inch as if she’s savoring the mixed taste of your cum and her own juices. She takes you deeper, humming softly around you, the vibrations traveling straight to your balls. To your surprise, you start getting hard again. Your cock twitches and swells inside her mouth, growing thicker against her tongue. IU makes a pleased little sound and starts sucking with more purpose, bobbing her head slowly while her lips stay wrapped tightly around you.

You stare down at her, still kneeling over her chest. The sight is filthy and surreal.

Her face is still covered in your cum, thick white streaks drying on her cheeks, dripping slowly down her jaw, and smeared across the black lace eye mask. Some of it has even gotten into her hair. Yet she continues sucking you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Her tongue works tirelessly to bring you back to full hardness.

Your mind starts racing again.

Is this actually IU?

She has a concert scheduled in this city next week. You saw the posters everywhere when you checked into the hotel. The real IU would be busy with rehearsals, soundchecks, and media appearances. Why the hell would she be in a random guy’s hotel room filming OnlyFans content?

But then again… the voice. That sweet, slightly breathy tone when she moaned. The way her body feels. The petite frame and perfect pale skin. It all matches.

The mask makes sense if it really is her, a way to protect her identity while still indulging in something risky and dirty. Or maybe she just enjoys the anonymity. Plenty of girls in this line of work wear masks anyway. It doesn’t prove anything.

Still, the idea that the Lee Jieun is currently sucking your cock with your own cum still painted across her face feels completely insane.

You’re fully hard again now, your cock standing rigid between her soft lips. IU pulls back just enough to swirl her tongue around the sensitive head, then takes you deep once more, sucking greedily. She hums contentedly, as if she could happily stay like this for hours, focused entirely on your cock.

You swallow hard, heart pounding with a strange mix of lust and disbelief.

Her warm, wet mouth works you over with slow, devoted strokes, lips sliding up and down your shaft, tongue swirling around the head every time she pulls back. Even with your cum still streaked across her cheeks and black lace mask, she doesn’t seem to care.

After several long minutes of her dedicated sucking, IU finally pulls off completely. A thin string of saliva connects her lower lip to the tip of your cock for a second before it breaks. She licks her lips, tasting the mess, and tilts her masked face up toward you.

“You’re hard again already…Want to go for round two?”

You don’t even need to answer. She rolls over smoothly onto her stomach and you scoot back again. Then she pushes herself up onto her hands and knees. Her petite body looks incredible in this position: slim waist, round ass pushed back toward you, and her soaked pussy glistening between her thighs.

You move behind her quickly, kneeling on the bed. Gripping her narrow hips, you line up your throbbing cock with her tight entrance and push forward.

Her cunt swallows you completely.

“Fuck…”

You groan as you sink balls-deep into her again. She’s still incredibly wet and warm from earlier, her walls gripping you perfectly.

IU lets out a soft moan and arches her back, pushing her ass back against you.

“Mmm… yes. Just like that.”

You don’t waste any time. You start fucking her properly from behind with long, deep strokes that make her small body rock forward with every thrust. The sound of your hips slapping against her ass fills the room again, wet and lewd.

Her pussy feels even tighter in this position. It squeezes around your cock as you pound into her. You watch the way her small ass jiggles slightly with each impact. Your hands grip her hips harder for leverage as you drive deeper.

“Ahh-! Harder…”

IU whimpers, dropping her head down onto the mattress while keeping her ass up high for you.

“Fuck me harder…”

You do as she says, slamming into her with rough, powerful thrusts. The new angle lets you hit even deeper, the head of your cock brushing against that sensitive spot inside her with every stroke. Her moans grow louder, sweeter, and more desperate as you rail her from behind. Your hands slide up her back, then grip her shoulders, pulling her back onto your cock as you destroy her tight little cunt.

Your pace picks up, each thrust growing faster and more forceful. The sound of your hips slamming against her ass gets louder. Her tight pussy takes every brutal stroke, squeezing around your thick cock as you drive deeper, the quelching sounds getting louder and wetter.

“Ahh-! Yes… just like that…”

She sinks lower into the mattress under the relentless pounding. Her back arches beautifully, pushing her ass higher for you while her upper body collapses forward. Her arms tremble and give out, no longer able to hold her up. She drops from her hands down onto her forearms, elbows digging into the sheets as she tries to stay in position.

You don’t slow down though. You keep pounding her dripping cunt with raw power, watching her petite body jolt forward with every deep thrust. Her small tits press into the mattress, nipples rubbing against the sheets as she rocks helplessly.

Another few hard strokes and she sinks even further. IU’s face drops down completely, forehead and cheeks pressed into the mattress. Her arms go limp, lying uselessly beside her head like she can’t even control them anymore. She’s no longer on all fours. She’s face-down, ass-up, completely surrendered to your cock.

You lean over her, one hand pressing down between her shoulder blades to keep her pinned while your other hand grips her waist. You fuck her like that. With animalistic strokes that make her soaked pussy squelch and spasm around you.

Her moans are muffled by the mattress now, turning into desperate, broken whimpers the longer you use her.

“Mmmph-! Hah-!”

The new angle lets you hit even deeper inside her. Her walls flutter and clench around your cock as you destroy her from behind, her entire body shaking under the force of your pounding. Her ass jiggles with every impact, her pussy creaming all over your shaft.

You keep railing her like this, while IU lies there face-down, arms limp beside her, taking every inch like the perfect little slut she is right now.

You use her like a personal fleshlight. Your grip on her hips is bruising as you slam into her soaked pussy with long, savage strokes. You pull her back onto your cock just as hard as you thrust forward. The wet, filthy sounds of her cunt squelching around your thick shaft fill the entire room. Every thrust makes her petite body jolt forward, her face still buried in the mattress.

IU’s moans grow louder, turning into desperate, broken cries that are half-muffled by the sheets.

“Ahh-! Fuck-! So good…!”

Suddenly her voice cracks with need.

“Pull my hair… please-! Pull my hair hard-!”

You don’t hesitate. You reach forward, grab a thick fistful of her soft dark hair, and yank her head back sharply. IU hisses loudly through her teeth from the pain, but her pussy clenches violently around your cock at the same time, gushing fresh wetness down your shaft. You pull her upper body off the mattress until she’s forced back into that perfect arched position. Her ass is high in the air, back curved deeply, head yanked back by your hand in her hair. Her arms hang uselessly at her sides. The black lace mask stays firmly in place, but you can see the way her mouth hangs open in pure bliss, tongue slightly out.

You keep fucking her like this, using her hair like reins while you destroy her cunt. Each powerful thrust makes her small body rock forward only to be yanked back onto your cock by the grip on her hair.

“Yes-! Yes-! Like that-! Harder… please fuck me harder…! Don’t stop…!”

She’s completely lost in it now, shamelessly begging while you rail her from behind. Her pussy flutters and squeezes around you in a distinct pattern, getting wetter and tighter with every stroke. You can feel her getting dangerously close again, her thighs shaking, her back arching even more desperately into your hold.

You keep pounding her dripping twat without mercy, hair wrapped tightly around your fist, using her like your own personal toy as another powerful orgasm builds rapidly inside her. Your other hand slides from her slim waist down between her legs. Your fingers find her swollen, slippery clit and start rubbing tight, fast circles over it.

IU’s moans turn into sharp, desperate screams.

“Ahh-! Fuck-! Right th-there-! Don’t stop-!”

Her whole body starts trembling like crazy. Her pussy clenches and flutters madly around your cock, getting impossibly tighter, making it harder for you to fuck her with full force. You keep rubbing her clit faster, trying to pound her harder, refusing to slow down even for a second.

Then she breaks.

IU cums hard with a loud, broken cry. Her entire body convulses as a powerful orgasm rips through her. To your shock, she actually squirts. A hot rush of clear fluid gushes out around your cock, soaking your thighs, her ass, and the sheets beneath her. The force of it pushes your cock completely out of her spasming pussy.

You stare down in disbelief, breathing hard.

“Holy shit.”

You just made IU - or at least a girl who looks and sounds exactly like her - cum twice on your cock… and now she’s squirting all over your hotel bed. Her petite body shakes and quivers nonstop, legs twitching, back still arched from your grip on her hair. She lets out a long, broken whimper before finally collapsing flat onto her stomach, completely spent. Her arms lie limp beside her head, ass still slightly raised, her soaked pussy visibly pulsing and dripping.

You kneel there for a moment, your cock rock-hard and glistening with her juices, just watching her twitch and recover.

Then the hunger takes over again. You move closer, grab your slick cock, and line it up with her dripping entrance once more. Without waiting, you push forward and thrust back inside her.

IU gasps sharply. Her body jerks as you fill her again.

You immediately resume pounding her, fucking her into the mattress while she’s still trying to catch her breath from that shattering orgasm. Her pussy is even wetter now. It’s hot and sloppy from her squirt, making every thrust sound way louder.

She whimpers weakly beneath you, barely able to string different words together.

“W-wait… I just… ahh-!”

But you don’t slow down. You grip her hips and keep railing her soaked cunt. You chase your own pleasure while she lies there, helplessly taking it. Your hips snap forward harder and faster, slamming into IU’s soaked pussy with punishing strokes. You grip her hips tightly, pulling her back onto you with every thrust while she lies face-down beneath you.

“I’m gonna cum…I’m gonna cum in your pussy-”

IU’s voice cracks with lust.

“Yes-! Please cum inside me!”

She begs, pushing her ass back against you.

“Breed me… fill me up… pump your cum deep in my womb, please-!”

You bury yourself as deep as you can go…and explode.

Thick, heavy ropes of cum flood her pussy. They paint her insides as your cock pulses again and again. You groan, grinding against her ass while you empty every drop into her. The sensation of pumping your load straight into her tight, twitching cunt is mind-blowing. You stay buried deep inside her for a long moment, savoring the warmth and the way her walls flutter around you, milking every last spurt. Only when your orgasm finally fades do you slowly pull out.

A thick glob of your cum immediately leaks from her freshly fucked pussy, dripping down her thighs onto the ruined sheets. You sit back on your heels, breathing hard, staring at the mess you made. Your cum is still drying on her masked face and now leaking steadily from her pussy. The disbelief hits you all over again.

Did I really just fuck IU and creampie her? Twice?

You decide right then not to ask. If she says she isn’t IU, the fantasy will shatter. Keeping the illusion alive feels way hotter.

IU reaches weakly for her phone on the nightstand and stops the recording. She turns halfway onto her side. She looks at you with a tired but satisfied smile.

“Wow… that was amazing.”

She says with a pleased laugh.

“You really know how to fuck. Best content I’ve shot in a long time.”

You chat for a couple of minutes. Small talk about how good it felt, how wet she got, how hard she came. Then she bites her lip.

“I wouldn’t mind doing this again sometime… on camera or off.”

Your heart jumps. She holds out her phone to you.

“Put your number in.”

You quickly type it in. Your fingers shake. She takes the phone back, then slowly gets up on shaky legs. She grabs the white hotel robe from the floor and slips it on, tying it loosely around her waist.

“Mmm… I can feel your cum running down my legs already.”

She says with a playful grin, shifting her thighs.

“I should probably shower.”

You smirk.

“Want some company?”

IU laughs and shakes her head.

“No thank you… I’m gonna need some time to recover after that pounding you gave me.”

She walks over to the door, still a little unsteady on her feet. Before she leaves, she turns back one last time.

“Thanks again. I’ll text you.”

You manage to hide your disappointment as she slips out into the hallway. The door clicks shut behind her.

You sit there alone in your hotel room, still naked, cock covered in her juices, staring at the messy bed.

You really hope she texts.

---------------------

ACT I: Before The Heat

Day 1

➤ Chapter 0: PRELUDE – First Light - Yeji Morning tenderness. Five years of history in stolen touch.

➤ Chapter 0.5: INTERLUDE – Shower Thoughts - Yeji The body speaks what the mind refuses.

➤ Chapter 1: Morning Devotion - Yeji The shower. The boundary. The beginning of the end.

ACT II: The Siren And The Dragon

➤ Chapter 1.5: INTERLUDE - Me Know Me Love Me - Yuna A hot girl morning gone wrong.

➤ Chapter 2: The Fall - Yuna Heat by the pool. A slippery slope.

➤ Chapter 3: Submerged in Sin - Yuna Underwater and under pressure. Desire that drowns reason.

➤ Chapter 4: The Tides That Turn - Yuna Consequences arrive wearing a maknae's face.

➤ Chapter 5: The Siren's Surrender - Yuna Poolside chaos. When want becomes need becomes ruin.

➤ Chapter 6: The Siren's Satisfaction - Yuna Marathon riding. Exhaustion wearing the face of desire.

➤ Chapter 7: Reckless Abandon - Ryujin, Karina A rave. A reckoning. Beauty as curse.

➤ Chapter 8: Close Calls - Yuna, Ryujin Secrets strain against daylight. The villa holds its breath.

➤ Chapter 9: Can of Worms - Yuna, Ryujin Confrontation. Chaos. The dragon wakes.

➤ Chapter 9.5: INTERLUDE - Skin and Shadows - Yeji Six months ago, the yacht party. When they realized everyone could see. Fear dressed as fury.

➤ Chapter 10: The Dragon's Claim - Yuna, Ryujin Desire as contest. Intimacy as collateral damage.

➤ Chapter 11: Double Trouble - Yuna, Ryujin Three bodies, one betrayal. The camera never blinks.

ACT III: Heart In Heat

➤ Chapter 11.5: INTERLUDE - A Love-All Courtship - Chaeryeong Tennis whites in the summer heat. When match play becomes foreplay, and every serve ups the ante.

➤ Chapter 12: The Eye of the Storm - ITZY ensemble Lunch with lies. Smiles stretched over guilt.

➤ Chapter 13: Golden Hourglass - Yeji Beach at sunset. Trust whispered. Truth hidden. The last perfect moment.

➤ Chapter 13.5: INTERLUDE - Sweet Surrender - Chaeryeong Restraint as release. Depravity as devotion.

ACT IV: A Star Is Reborn

➤ Chapter 14: Divine Intervention - Yeji, Karina A goddess opens her door. R&B and silk and something like salvation.

➤ Chapter 15: Supernova - Yeji, Karina The goddess melts. The star explodes. The warmth that remains.

➤ Chapter 16: Armageddon - Yeji, Karina Destruction before rebirth. A world unmade. Bodies as apocalypse.

➤ Chapter 17: Mine - Yeji, Karina A word whispered like oath. What acceptance looks like when you finally stop running.

ACT V: The Breaking Tide

Day 2

➤ Chapter 17.5: INTERLUDE - The Eye in the Sky - Lia She filmed it all. The replay was even better.

➤ Chapter 18: Drowning in Air - Yeji Her tears rolled backward. Her screams silent. What becomes when you betray the person you love most.

➤ Chapter 19: Flickering Flames - ITZY Ensemble A chilly morning. A warm afternoon. A fiery night.

➤ Chapter 19.5: INTERLUDE - A Blaze of Glory - ITZY, TWICE, STRAY KIDS, JYP Nation ensemble (+ aespa cameo) Three years ago, when they danced together. A stage ablaze, a ghost of glory. The night the gang burned the brightest.

➤ Chapter 20: Moonlight and Memory - Yeji Moonlight on water, skin on skin. A space reclaimed, a memory rewritten.

➤ Chapter 21: Nobody Like You - Ryujin, Yuna (New!) Softened in memory; emptied in sorrow; redeemed in water.

➤ Chapter 22: Unseen, Untouchable, Unmade - Yeji, Lia A sin unseen. A bond untouchable. A love unmade.

ACT VI: Ashes And Embers

Day 3

➤ Chapter 23: Dynamite and Drama - ITZY/aespa ensemble (+ Yunjin cameo) Chaos in laughter, comfort in closeness. A perfect night warmed by love without names.

➤ Chapter 23.5: INTERLUDE - Merry-Go-Round - Giselle, Winter, Ningning (+ Karina cameo) The world keeps turning, the music keeps playing, the night keeps burning, and joy keeps winning.

➤ Chapter 24: Last Light - ITZY/aespa ensemble (+ Yunjin cameo) First light woke with hidden truth; last light set their burdens free.

➤ Chapter 25: Across the Stars - Yeji A star rewritten, two hearts fated, three days painting a thousand nights across one unbroken sky.

➤ EPILOGUE: The Way I Am - Yuna, Karina, Yeji For all three: want to be me, me, me.

➤ Untitled Bonus Chapter - Karina

Extras

➤ BTS: Yuna

➤ BTS: Yeji

➤ BTS: Ryujin

➤ BTS: Winter

The accusation in her voice was undercut by the way her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

“I -” My voice came out rougher than intended. “I wasn’t watching, I just -”

“You were TOTALLY watching!” But she was smiling now. That trademark Yuna confidence - the same one that had millions of people glued to their screens watching her fancams, begging for more - was flooding back in, replacing the flustered panic from seconds ago. Except this time, it wasn’t filtered through a phone screen. It was right here, soaking wet and naked and absolutely lethal.

She stood up fully - all legs and wet skin and that ridiculously expensive bikini barely containing anything. Up close, her body was even more insane. Long, toned legs that seemed to go on forever. A tiny waist flaring into surprisingly full hips. Her small tits pushed against the bikini top, nipples clearly visible through the thin black fabric. The sash clung to her curves, somehow emphasizing everything.

“Oh my god, you perv,” she said, taking a step closer. Water droplets rolled down her neck, disappearing between her breasts. “How long were you standing there?”

“Yuna -”

“No no no, I’m genuinely curious.” Another step. I could smell the ocean salt on her skin, mixed with something warmer. Muskier. “Because if you JUST got here, okay, whatever. But if you were like... watching me for a while...”

She was close now. Close enough that I could see the goosebumps on her arms despite the heat, the way her chest rose and fell with each breath.

“...then that’s kind of insane, right? That’s like, criminally horny behavior. Watching your girlfriend’s maknae finger herself and getting hard about it?”

“She’s not my -” I started, but the words caught in my throat.

Yuna rolled those humongous puppy eyes.

“I should go -” I tried to cover myself with the towel, stammering. “I’m just heading to - Yeji locked me out of the bathroom because she needs to get to her Pilates class and -”

“You should,” she agreed, but she was still advancing. “Unnie would literally kill you. Like, actual murder. Girlfriend or not.”

Her eyes dropped to the tent in my towel again. Lingered.

“But also...” Her voice dropped, playful and dangerous. “You’re still here.”

She took one more step, close enough now that if I reached out, I could touch her.

“Tell me something, oppa.” She tilted her head, and something in her expression shifted - that sly, foxy calculation I’d seen on stage a hundred times. “When you heard me just now... getting myself off...” Her voice dropped lower, more suggestive. “Did it turn you on?”

She gestured at her body - the wet bikini, the long legs, everything on display.

“You’re telling me you never had your hand wrapped around -”

Her fingers reached out, lightning quick, and brushed against the tent in my towel.

The touch - even through fabric - sent a jolt through me. My body betrayed me completely. My cock jerked hard against the towel, and the movement was enough to loosen the tuck I’d made at my waist.

The towel fell.

It dropped to the tiles with a wet slap, and suddenly I was standing there completely exposed - my cock springing up, thick and still glazed with the mixture of mine and Yeji’s cum, evidence of our morning devotion painted across every inch.

Yuna’s breath caught audibly. Her eyes went wide as saucers, pupils blown so dark they swallowed the brown, her gaze locked onto my cock like a predator spotting prey.

I watched her throat work as she swallowed. Hard.

She took an unconscious step closer, and I saw the exact moment her brain registered what she was seeing - not just size, but evidence. The glossy sheen wasn’t sweat. Her eyes traced the dried streaks along my shaft, the way it caught the sunlight, still fresh enough to glisten.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, tinged with genuine shock.

Her cheeks and ears flushed a deep crimson that spread down her neck - stark contrast to her earlier confidence, the physical evidence of genuine fluster battling with rapidly mounting arousal. The blush deepened as her eyes traced every detail, her breath quickening.

Her hand moved to her own throat, fingers pressing there like she was imagining it. Then lower, absently grazing her collarbone. Her nipples visibly hardened further through the thin bikini fabric, betraying how quickly embarrassment was losing ground to hunger.

“Unnie never mentioned you were packing like that.” A pause, her eyes widening further as another realization hit. “Actually, she basically never mentions you at all.”

The way she said it made it sound like Yeji had been hoarding something valuable. Something Yuna suddenly wanted to taste.

Something flickered across her face - too quick to fully name. Hurt? Curiosity? The faintest shadow of why would she hide this from me?

But it vanished as fast as it appeared, replaced by that calculating look I’d seen her use on stage when she knew the camera was on her. Her tongue swept across her bottom lip.

Her expression shifted as understanding dawned. “Wait. THAT’S why she keeps you around.” A breathless laugh, but there was an edge to it now - something competitive, almost vindictive. “You’re not her boyfriend - you must be her dick appointment. Her personal premium subscription.”

I saw her eyes trace every detail - the thick shaft, the prominent veins, the way the head glistened with dried cum. Her pupils dilated even further, her breath quickened, and I watched in real-time as arousal replaced everything else.

The sound of the front door slamming echoed across the villa, followed by a car engine starting. Yeji’s manager, picking her up for class. We were alone now. Completely, utterly alone.

And that’s when I saw it - the exact moment an intrusive thought crossed Yuna’s mind. Her expression shifted from shocked to calculating, a sly, foxy grin spreading across her face.

“So...” She looked up from my cock to meet my eyes. “You’re walking around with THAT, and you got hard looking at me.” Her tone was mocking, teasing, but laced with raw desire. “And here I thought unnie was hiding some like, casual situationship or whatever. But no wonder she keeps coming back to you when half the industry’s in her DMs. Like, I GET it now.”

She took a step toward me, barefoot, her hips swaying, every inch the sultry, seductive siren that had driven countless men to their knees. The defensive panic had completely evaporated, replaced by something more familiar. That Yuna confidence in full force.

The wet bikini clung to every curve - all legs and wet skin and that ridiculously expensive three-piece barely containing anything. The chain straps glinted in the sunlight. Her nipples were hard as diamonds, poking through the thin fabric.

“You’ve jerked off to me before, right? Like, actually stroked this cock -” She gestured at it with zero shame, “ - thinking about fucking me?” She tilted her head, eyes glinting with something between amusement and hunger. “Come on, oppa. Be honest. All those fancams with millions of views? The ones where I’m doing body rolls in that tiny skirt, or when I’m on the floor with my legs spread?”

She ran her hands down her own body - over her tits, her waist, her hips - putting herself on display.

“Because like... a LOT of guys have wanted to know what that looks like up close.” Her smile turned wicked. “Backup dancers, producers, fans who got lucky. They all watched me on stage and then got to find out if I’m as good off it.” She bit her lip. “And I am, by the way. I’m really, really good.”

She took another step closer, voice dropping.

“So I’m just wondering if you ever thought about it. If you ever watched me perform and imagined what I’d look like under you? What I’d sound like moaning your name?” Her eyes flickered with something vulnerable beneath the bravado. “What it’d feel like to shove this fat cock inside me and make me scream?”

A pause. Her confidence wavered just slightly.

“Because I need to know if I’ve been in your head at all. If you wanted me even a little bit.” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “Tell me I’m not the only one who’s been thinking about this.”

“Yuna, I -” I tried to protest, but my voice cracked.

She laughed, a sultry, knowing sound. “Don’t even fake innocence. Your dick is literally snitching on you.” Her eyes never left my cock, which was now fully erect, standing at attention despite having just painted Yeji with three loads just minutes ago.

“You know what’s actually insane? I’ve been SO worked up all morning - literally climbing the walls - and then I finally get a moment to myself by the pool and you CATCH me.” She pouted theatrically, but her eyes remained sharp. Calculating. “And then I come back here and hear you two going at it like you’re filming for OnlyFans. Like, I’m happy for unnie, truly, but oh my GOD.”

She was advancing on me now, each step deliberate, her body language screaming dominance despite her earlier vulnerability when I’d caught her. Water droplets still clung to her skin, rolling down her neck, her collarbone, disappearing between her breasts. I could smell the ocean salt mixed with something warmer. Muskier. Her arousal.

“There I am, walking around with this needy pussy -” She touched herself briefly through the bikini bottoms, almost absently. “ - nobody to help me out. Meanwhile unnie’s upstairs getting her brains fucked out. Kind of unfair, don’t you think?”

“I think it’s only fair,” she continued, her voice a sultry whisper as she invaded my space, so close I could feel the heat radiating off her body, “that I get to try unnie’s favorite toy. Just for a bit. What do you think?”

“Yuna, we shouldn’t -” I took a step back, my mind screaming loyalty to Yeji even as my cock throbbed with need. “Yeji and I - we have a thing, and I don’t -”

“Oh, come on,” Yuna interrupted, rolling her eyes. “Unnie goes through guys like they’re limited edition. Have you SEEN her Kakao? Her Instagram DMs? She probably hooked up with someone at that industry party last week.” She licked her lips. “Besides... look at you. You’re already rock hard for me. Your body’s already made the choice.”

Before I could protest further, she closed the distance. Her hand came up to cup my face, soft and warm, and she leaned in, her lips crashing against mine in a deep, hungry French kiss. Her tongue invaded my mouth, aggressive and demanding, tasting faintly of salt and something sweet.

She pressed her body against mine, and I felt my cock, still slick with cum, pressing into the damp fabric of her bikini bottoms. The pressure made her gasp into my mouth, and then - fuck - my cock slipped through the gap between her thighs, emerging at the other end beneath her tight, perfect ass.

Her thighs clamped around my shaft, soft yet firm, squeezing me as she ground forward. I could feel her lips through the soaked fabric, her heat radiating against my cock. Her small, perky tits pressed against my chest, and I could see the streak of her own pussy juice glistening across her cleavage, mixing with the seawater and sweat.

Her other hand reached down, wrapping around the base of my cock where it protruded from between her thighs, her fingers slick and sure.

“Yuna -” I gasped, breaking the kiss, trying to take a step back to create distance, to think, to -

But I didn’t realize I’d backed all the way to the edge of the pool.

My foot found nothing but air, and I felt myself falling backward, arms windmilling.

Everything slowed - that horrible drawn-out moment where you realize you’ve fucked up but momentum’s already decided your fate.

Just as I began to tip backward, Yuna’s hand closed fully around the base of my cock, her grip instinctive. The sudden backward motion lifted my cock upward, and because her hand was locked on and my shaft was sandwiched between her thighs, the upward force literally lifted her off the ground.

Her eyes went wide, a yelp of surprise escaping her lips as her feet left the terrace. The sudden pressure on her pussy lips through the bikini, combined with being yanked forward, made her gasp and moan simultaneously. Her other hand, which had been on my face, shot to the back of my neck for balance, her nails digging in.

We fell together, a tangle of limbs and lust, hitting the pool with a massive splash that sent water cascading over the edge. The pool chair she’d been sitting on earlier teetered dangerously, saved only by Yuna’s foot catching it mid-fall and kicking it back.

We plunged beneath the surface, the cool water a shocking contrast to the heat of our bodies. I felt her bikini top come loose, her hand still gripping my cock, our bodies intertwined in the churning water.

Chapter 3: Submerged in Sin Underwater and under pressure. Desire that drowns reason.

We surfaced from the pool, water cascading off our bodies, and I was still disoriented - from the fall, from the shock, from the sheer insanity of the situation. But Yuna wasn’t disoriented at all. She was on me in a flash, her wet body pressing against mine, her lips crashing onto my mouth with desperate hunger. My cock, still rock-hard despite everything, poked against her pubic bone beneath the surface, and she moaned into the kiss, grinding against it.

“Mmm,” she hummed against my lips. “I love how that feels.”

“Yuna - wait -” I tried to break away, tried to summon some semblance of loyalty to Yeji, but Yuna just smiled against my mouth, her eyes glinting with mischief.

She pressed a single finger to my lips, silencing me. Her expression said trust me.

Then she disappeared beneath the water like a mermaid diving for treasure.

And oh god, the treasure she found.

This is really happening. I’m letting Yeji’s maknae suck my dick in a pool while Yeji’s at Pilates. My life choices are -

I felt her lips - warm, wet, impossibly soft - envelop the head of my cock, and every coherent thought evacuated my brain. Her mouth was heaven. She started slow, her tongue swirling around the sensitive tip, lapping up the remnants of my earlier cum and Yeji’s juices like it was her favorite husik. Then she took me deeper, her lips forming a perfect seal as she slid down my shaft inch by glorious inch.

The sensation was indescribable. Sure, Yeji gave head sometimes - she’d practiced it obsessively during our trainee days, treating it like vocal training: methodical, perfecting breath control, studying technique with Type-A precision. But it was functional, clinical even - exercises that happened to help both her throat control and my stress relief, not something she did for pleasure. And she’d made it abundantly clear over the years that she much preferred being on the receiving end, demanding her pussy be worshipped rather than the other way around. I’d never minded. With Yeji, I got everything else - the vulnerability she showed no one, the way she’d grip my hand after, the soft confession in her sleep-roughened voice. But that wasn’t something I could think about right now. Not with Yuna’s tongue doing... that.

Because Yuna was a fucking artist. Her tongue did things I didn’t know were possible, flicking along the underside of my shaft, tracing the prominent vein, then flattening to massage the entire length as she bobbed up and down. She hollowed her cheeks, creating suction that made my knees weak, and then she’d relax, letting me slide deeper into her throat without a hint of gagging.

My hands shot to her head beneath the water, fingers tangling in her soaked hair, and I couldn’t help but buck my hips forward. She took it all, adjusting her angle to let me fuck her mouth, her hands gripping my thighs for balance.

She surfaced after what felt like an eternity, gasping for air, her face breaking through the water in an image that would be burned into my brain forever: lips swollen and glistening, eyes half-lidded with lust, water streaming down her flushed cheeks. Somewhere in the rational part of my brain that was still functioning, I registered that this was Yuna - the girl who called Yeji ‘unnie,’ who’d probably heard us through the walls, who was looking at me right now like I was prey she’d been hunting. That should have scared me. Instead - she looked like a fucking siren, and I was completely under her spell.

The sun beat down on us, turning the pool water into liquid diamonds. I could hear nothing but her breathing, the gentle lap of water against tiles, and the distant crash of ocean waves.

“Where -” I gasped, barely able to form words. “Where the fuck did you learn to do that?”

She grinned, catching her breath, water droplets falling from her chin. “What, that?” A teasing glint in her eyes. “You liked it?”

“That’s - that’s not an answer -”

But before I could press further, she dove back under.

This time, she took me even deeper, her nose pressing against my pelvis as she deepthroated me with ease. Her tongue worked magic, and I felt her hum around my shaft, the vibrations sending shockwaves through my body. She came up for air again, that same devastatingly hot expression on her face - mascara slightly smudged, lips swollen, chest heaving - and then went back down, establishing a rhythm: submerge, suck, surface, repeat.

Each time she came up, I got a glimpse of pure debauchery: her small, perky tits now fully exposed, the bikini top lost somewhere in the pool, nipples hard as diamonds, water droplets catching the sunlight, her face a mask of focused pleasure.

“Seriously,” I managed when she surfaced again. “Where did you -”

“Oh my god, so needy.” She licked her lips, grinning. “Fine, I’ll give you my origin story. But you have to earn the rest.” Then she dove back under.

I gave in. Completely, utterly gave in. I started thrusting my hips to meet her mouth, fucking her face beneath the water, and I felt my fourth orgasm of the day building - a deep, primal heat coiling in my balls.

Yuna felt it too. She resurfaced one more time, pulling off my cock with an obscene pop, and her eyes sparkled with sadistic glee.

“Nuh-uh,” she said, pulling back with that wicked grin. “You don’t get to cum yet.” She wrapped her hand around my shaft, squeezing. “I need to hear you say it first. That you want me. That you’ve been thinking about fucking me.” Her eyes gleamed. “Beg a little. It’s hot.”

Of course she wanted me to beg. Because that’s what this was really about, wasn’t it? Not just getting off - she could’ve done that with any of the industry contacts she’d casually mentioned. This was about making me choose her over Yeji, even if just for a moment. Making me admit it out loud.

“Yuna -” I groaned, my cock twitching desperately in her grip.

She silenced me by jamming my shaft between her thighs again, squeezing them together. The pressure was exquisite, and she started grinding backward and forward, her pussy lips dragging along the top of my cock. Then, with one hand, she reached down and untied her bikini bottoms. The sash that had been clinging to her torso floated to the surface, and she pulled the bottoms out from behind with a smooth jerk.

The sensation of the fabric slipping out, dragging roughly between my cock and her pussy, was almost too much. And then - suddenly - I felt her bare lips on my shaft, hot and slick, no barrier between us.

“Fuck - Yuna -” I tried to protest, but she stuffed the soaked bikini bottoms into my mouth, silencing me just like I’d done to Yeji earlier.

“Shh,” she whispered, grinning. “Your turn.”

She wrapped one arm around my neck for balance, and with her other hand, she guided mine to her bare breast. My palm cupped the soft, perky flesh - small but perfectly formed, high and proud, with a hard, sensitive nipple that pebbled under my touch. My instincts took over, and I squeezed, kneaded, pinched, drawing soft gasps and moans from her lips.

All the while, she kept grinding, her hand on my cock ensuring it stayed between her thighs, pressing against her lips but never quite slipping inside. It was torture. Pure, exquisite torture. I felt the tip catch on her entrance with every thrust, so close I could feel her heat, her wetness, but she wouldn’t let me in.

The midday heat made everything feel surreal - her wet skin sliding against mine, the chlorine smell mixing with her arousal, the way the water refracted light across her body in dancing patterns.

I should have stopped her. Should have pulled away, found that shower, called Yeji and confessed everything. Instead, I stood there in the pool while Yeji’s dongsaeng gave me her sexual resume, each revelation simultaneously making me harder and making me a worse person. The math wasn’t mathing, but my dick had stopped caring about logic somewhere around the third underwater deepthroat.

“You wanna know where I learned that?” she asked breathlessly, grinding against me. “Okay so - mmm, fuck - first world tour, right? There was this Australian backup dancer and he had this ACCENT -”

She paused, adjusting the angle so my cock pressed directly against her clit, and shuddered.

“Oh god, right there - anyway, he was insanely hot and I basically dragged him into the tour bus bathroom after the Sydney show and was like, teach me everything.”

She demonstrated by opening her mouth, miming deepthroating. “Just let him fuck my throat over and over until I figured out the breathing thing. The angles. All of it. It was like a masterclass except way sluttier and I literally couldn’t talk the next day.”

She giggled breathlessly. “Worth it though.”

I groaned around the fabric in my mouth, my hips bucking involuntarily.

“Then there was this producer in LA - ahh, fuck -” Her voice hitched as I pinched her nipple. “He was like, old as hell but actually knew what he was doing? He taught me the humming trick. You know, vibrations and shit.” She grinned wickedly. “Made him cum in like two minutes and he looked at me like I was a wizard. I felt SO powerful.”

She leaned in, her lips brushing my ear. “And then in New York, during our US leg -” She giggled, the sound breathless and dirty. “Found this cute fan, pulled him backstage, and basically used him as practice. Over and over. I love it, you know? The control. The way a guy’s whole body goes stiff when you take him deep. The way he looks at you after like you just blew his mind and his dick.”

Every time she sensed I was about to cum - my body tensing, my muffled groans growing louder - she’d suddenly stop or slow down, blue-balling me with expert precision. I lost count of how many times she did it. She was torturing me. And the worst part? I could see it in her eyes every time she stopped - that flash of satisfaction, like she was conducting an experiment and I was giving her exactly the data she wanted. How far could she push Yeji’s ‘secret boyfriend’ before he broke? Turns out: pretty fucking far. My balls felt like they were about to explode, swollen and aching, pressure building to catastrophic levels. My eyes widened in desperation, and whatever thin thread of self-control I’d been clinging to - the part that remembered Yeji, loyalty, consequences - snapped completely. I stopped being a person who made choices and became pure need.

I roughly grabbed her hips, my grip bruising, and started thrusting hard, surprising her. Her eyes went wide.

“Oh - fuck, okay, someone’s -” she gasped, but I was beyond words.

The bikini bottoms fell out of my mouth as I gasped, “Yuna - I can’t - I’m gonna -”

She felt it too, the moment my body gave up all pretense of control. In one fluid motion, she slipped beneath the water, her mouth enveloping my cock just as I exploded.

I came hard. Harder than I’d ever come in my life. It felt like my entire soul was being sucked out through my cock, rope after thick rope of cum shooting into her waiting mouth. I saw stars, actual fucking stars, my vision whiting out as my orgasm ripped through me. I was vaguely aware of my hands gripping the edge of the pool for balance, my legs shaking, my voice echoing across the villa in a guttural roar.

When she finally surfaced, she was an image of pure debauchery. Her hair was plastered to her face, her lips swollen and red, and she opened her mouth to show me the pool of my cum resting on her tongue. It was obscene, filthy, and the hottest thing I’d ever seen. She let it slowly drip from her mouth onto her chest, the white mixing with the water and trickling down between her tits, before she closed her mouth and swallowed, her throat bobbing as she took every drop.

“Holy shit,” I gasped, thoroughly impressed, aroused, and completely drained. “That was... fuck.”

The post-nut clarity hit like a freight train. What the fuck had I just done? I’d let Yuna - Yeji’s groupmate, her dongsaeng, someone who lived in the same villa - suck me off in broad daylight. And the worst part? I’d loved every second. That realization should have sent me running.

“I need to... I should probably go take that shower now.”

But Yuna wasn’t done. Not even close. She swam closer, her eyes dark with hunger, her body still trembling with pent-up need.

“Shower?” She laughed, low and dangerous. “We’re not even close to done, Minho.” Her hand found my cock again, already starting to stir despite having just exploded. “I didn’t cum yet. And I’m literally dying to have my brains fucked out.”

She pressed against me, her bare pussy rubbing against my thigh. “So no. You’re not going anywhere.”

I should have said no. Should have drawn a line, preserved whatever microscopic scrap of loyalty I had left. But her hand was already wrapped around my cock, and my body was already responding, and the truth I didn’t want to admit was that she was right. We weren’t done. Not even close. And I was going to let this happen. Again.

Chapter 4: The Tides That Turn Consequences arrive wearing a Maknae’s face.

I tried to act like I’d had enough - like I was some kind of gentleman who knew when to walk away. But the truth? There was nothing I wanted more than to jam my cock into Yuna’s burning pussy and fuck her until we both passed out or the sun went down, whichever came first. Hell, maybe both would happen simultaneously. My body was already making that decision for me, my cock twitching back to life despite having just blown what felt like my entire genetic lineage into her mouth.

I started to push away from her, tried to muster some semblance of self-control, but my feral urges snapped me back like a rubber band. I lunged forward, roughly grabbing her by that perfect, tight ass, making her squeal in surprise as I lifted her naked body onto the edge of the pool. Water splashed everywhere, cascading over the tiles as I positioned her exactly where I wanted her.

Another line crossed. Another point of no return. At this rate, there wouldn’t be anything left to salvage when Yeji came back.

“Minho - wait, what are you -”

But she didn’t finish the sentence because she realized exactly what I was doing. I was eye level with her pussy, and for the first time, I got to really study it.

Yuna’s pussy was a work of art - completely different from Yeji’s. Where Yeji’s was a neat, bikini-trimmed mound with full, meaty lips that gripped like a vise, Yuna’s was bare, smooth as silk, with delicate, pale pink lips that were slightly swollen from arousal. Her inner lips were small and tucked in, a shy little slit that barely peeked out. But what really caught my attention was how wet she was - not just damp, but absolutely dripping, her arousal glistening on her thighs, mixing with the pool water. Her clit was a small, prominent pearl, already engorged and begging for attention.

She caught me staring and slowly, deliberately, widened her legs, an invitation and a challenge all at once.

“Like what you see?” she teased, her voice breathy. “I mean, you’re just... staring. Kind of creepy but also kind of hot?”

I didn’t answer. I just pressed my nose against her mound, inhaling her scent - clean, slightly sweet, with an underlying musk that made my mouth water. Then I dove in.

The first lick was exploratory, my tongue dragging slowly from her entrance to her clit, and the taste hit me like a drug. Yuna tasted different from Yeji too - less earthy, more delicate, almost honey-sweet with a hint of salt from the ocean. Her pussy was softer, more yielding, and as I licked deeper, I felt her walls flutter against my tongue.

Yeji had taught me well. Years of being her personal pussy-worshiper had turned me into a fucking expert. I started with broad, flat strokes, licking up every drop of her arousal, then focused on her clit, flicking it with the tip of my tongue in quick, rhythmic bursts. She gasped, her hips jerking forward, and I grinned against her pussy.

I switched tactics, sucking her clit into my mouth and rolling it gently between my lips while my fingers found her entrance. I slid two inside, curling them upward to find that spongy spot on her front wall, and when I hit it, Yuna screamed.

“Oh my god - fuck -” Her voice pitched high. “Minho - where did you -”

She couldn’t finish the thought because I was relentless. I added a third finger, stretching her open while my tongue traced figure-eights around her clit. I alternated between sucking, licking, and gentle nibbling, each technique pulling different sounds from her throat - gasps, moans, sharp inhales. Her pussy was clenching around my fingers, so wet that I could hear the obscene squelching sounds every time I thrust.

“Holy shit -” she gasped, her legs trembling. “I’ve literally never - ohh fuck - been eaten out this good before!” Her hand flew to my hair. “Like, where the fuck did you learn to do this? Did you watch tutorials or something? Because this is - ahh - insane!”

I didn’t answer. I was too busy finger-fucking her while my mouth worked her clit, and honestly, I was too proud of myself to stop and gloat. Some pathetic part of me needed to prove I was better than every Australian dancer, every LA producer, every backstage groupie she’d casually mentioned. Like winning this competition would somehow make the betrayal worth it. I felt like I was one-upping every guy she’d ever been with, and the thought made my cock rock-hard again, precum leaking into the pool.

Yuna’s screams echoed through the villa, bouncing off the walls. She threw her head back, one hand tangling in my hair and shoving my face harder against her mound, the other supporting her leaned-back torso on the paved stones. She was desperately trying to get my tongue deeper, her hips rocking against my face in frantic, unconscious thrusts.

“Oh god, oh fuck, oh -” She was babbling now, words spilling out between moans. “This is gonna trend on my body’s personal Twitter because I’m - fuck - I’m gonna cum so hard -”

Her thighs clamped around my head like a vice.

“Holy shit - I’m literally - fuck, I can’t -” The words dissolved into a scream, as if it wasn’t already painfully obvious what was happening.

Her entire body tensed, her legs locking around my head, and then she shattered. Her pussy clamped down on my fingers in rhythmic pulses, her back arching off the pool edge, her scream reaching a pitch that could probably shatter glass. And then she squirted - a gush of clear, warm fluid spraying across my face, drenching me as her orgasm ripped through her.

I kept going, riding out her climax, my tongue and fingers coaxing every last spasm from her trembling body. Her legs shook violently, her toes curled so hard they probably cramped, and her eyes rolled back in her head as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. Her stomach muscles contracted visibly, her small tits bouncing with each convulsion, and she let out these broken, breathless sobs that were somehow the hottest sounds I’d ever heard.

When it finally subsided, she collapsed back onto the stones, panting, her chest heaving, her entire body glistening with sweat and water. Her pussy was still twitching, aftershocks rolling through her.

“That’s -” she gasped, trying to catch her breath. “That’s never happened before. The squirting thing. Like, never.” She propped herself up slightly, looking down at me with wide eyes. “I’ve seen it in porn but I thought it was fake? Or like, only certain girls can do it?” She laughed breathlessly. “What the fuck. Seriously, where did you learn that?”

I smirked, wiping her juices off my face with the back of my hand. “You’re not the only one with tricks.”

She stared at me, the infamous siren who could conquer any man, reduced to a quivering, breathless wreck. I felt the tides turning, a dominating urge surging through me. I grabbed her by the neck - not hard, but firm - and pulled her toward me, my mouth brushing against her neck. She shuddered, a soft moan escaping her lips.

“Fuck,” she whimpered. “That’s - oh, that’s my spot -”

“You like that?” I whispered against her ear, my breath hot on her skin. “Want to know my secret?”

“Yes -” she breathed, her hand moving between her legs, furiously rubbing her still-pulsating clit. “Tell me.”

“Yeji,” I murmured, my teeth grazing her earlobe. “She taught me everything. How to worship pussy like it’s a religion. How to make a woman scream my name.” I licked up her neck slowly. “Every trick, every technique - years of practice. All from her.”

And there it was - weaponizing the most intimate parts of my relationship with Yeji to make her dongsaeng cum harder. Using years of trust and vulnerability as foreplay. I’d officially hit rock bottom, and apparently rock bottom had a sub-basement.

Yuna moaned, her fingers working faster as she imagined it - me and Yeji, tangled together, her teaching me, training me. “Fuck, that’s -” Her breathing quickened. “That’s so hot. Unnie’s been keeping you as her personal - ahh - secret weapon this whole time.”

Her juices mixed with the puddle of water beneath her, and I could tell she was about to cum again just from the mental image and her own fingers.

But my moment of dominance didn’t last long. Yuna recovered faster than I expected, that confident, seductive grin returning to her face even as her legs still trembled.

Of course she did. Because that’s who Yuna was - the girl who could get facefucked into a squirting orgasm and be back in control sixty seconds later. I’d been an idiot to think I’d actually gained the upper hand. She’d just let me borrow it for a minute.

“Okay, okay,” she said, pushing me away gently, her voice still breathy but gaining strength. “Your mouth game is literally S-tier. Like, hall of fame level.” She bit her lip, eyeing my erection. “But I need to know what you can do with that big boy now.”

She slipped back into the water, turning her back to me, her perfect ass pressing against my rock-hard cock. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes dark with hunger, that siren look creeping back.

“Come on, Minho,” she beckoned, arching her back and pushing her ass higher, the curve of her spine absolutely sinful. “Drive me crazy. Make me lose my mind. Show me why unnie keeps you locked down like limited edition merch.”

She reached back, her hand wrapping around my shaft, stroking slowly. “Prove to me why Yeji’s so obsessed with this cock that she won’t let anyone else near it.”

Her grip tightened slightly. “But like, don’t get cocky yet.” That wicked grin widened. “I’ve had a LOT of dick, oppa. All those industry boys, that one time with three guys from the company after MAMA - which was insane by the way.” She positioned my tip against her entrance, just barely touching. “You’ve got some serious competition. Better make it memorable.”

Chapter 5: The Siren’s Surrender Poolside chaos. When want becomes need becomes ruin.

I positioned myself behind Yuna, my cock throbbing with desperate need as I pressed the tip against her entrance. The heat radiating from her pussy was intoxicating. I could feel her lips beginning to part around my head, yielding to the pressure -

But then she reached between her legs, grabbed my cock with a firm grip, and yanked it downward.

The sudden movement threw me completely off balance. I fell forward, my cock sliding along the outside of her pussy instead of inside, and my pelvis collided with her ass with a resounding CLAP that echoed across the terrace. Water flew everywhere, splashing against the pool tiles and her back.

“Nu-uh,” she said with a breathy laugh, looking back at me over her shoulder. That siren look was back in her eyes. “Not yet.”

“Yuna -” I groaned, trying to angle my hips, but her hand was still wrapped around my shaft, keeping me exactly where she wanted me - which was anywhere but inside her.

“You haven’t begged yet,” she said, arching her back even more, that playful edge in her voice. The curve of her spine was sinful, her ass pushing higher, presenting herself while simultaneously denying me. “Come on, oppa. Tell me what you want.”

“You know what I want -”

“Yeah, but I wanna HEAR it.” Her grip tightened, stroking once slowly. “Say you want to fuck me. That you want to shove this thick cock inside me.” Her grin widened. “Use your words.”

She squeezed for emphasis, making me hiss through my teeth.

“Because like... do you actually want this?” Her voice dropped, more intimate now. “Want to know what all those other guys felt?” A pause. “Because if you don’t say it, you’re literally gonna be the only one who didn’t get to fuck me. How sad would that be?”

It was psychological warfare, and she was winning. I pulled back, trying to angle my cock up, to slip past her defenses, but she adjusted her grip instantly, keeping me on the edge of madness. I wrapped one arm around her waist for leverage, my other hand cupping her breast, squeezing hard, trying to distract her or overpower her coordination.

She just moaned, arching even more. “Mmm, that’s nice. But you’re still not inside me.”

“Come on, Minho.” Her free hand found mine on her breast, guiding me to pinch her nipple. “Just admit it. You’ve thought about this, right? About me?”

I tried to thrust forward. She adjusted her angle, my cock sliding along her lips but not in.

“All those times you watched our performances,” she continued, slightly breathless now from her own teasing. “Did you ever imagine this? Me bent over for you?”

“Yuna - fuck -”

“What about when you were with unnie?” Her voice got quieter, more dangerous. “Did you ever close your eyes and think about me instead? When you came inside her, did you ever picture my face?”

The mention of Yeji hit like cold water, but it mixed with the building desperation in my body. The image she was painting - forbidden, wrong, and exactly what some dark part of me had fantasized about.

“Yes!” The word exploded out of me, echoing across the villa. “Yes, okay? I’ve thought about you!” My hips bucked involuntarily. “Every time I saw you on stage, every time you walked around in those shorts that showed everything - I wanted you! I wanted to fuck you! Now please -”

The moment I said it, her hand released my cock.

I lunged forward and speared into her pussy with the force of a man possessed, burying myself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. It felt like I could split mountains with that momentum.

“FUCK!” Yuna screamed, her voice cracking, breaking on the word as I filled her completely.

Her pussy was different from Yeji’s - where Yeji was a calculated vice grip that squeezed every inch with almost intimidating precision, Yuna was softer, wetter, more yielding but still incredibly tight. Her walls fluttered around me, adjusting to my size, and the heat was overwhelming. She was slick with arousal, making every movement smooth and effortless, but the sensation was no less intense. If Yeji’s pussy was a weapon designed to dominate, Yuna’s was a sensual trap, designed to lure you in and never let go.

I pulled back slowly, feeling every ridge and fold, then slammed back in. Yuna gasped, her back arching further. I established a relentless rhythm, my hips pistoning as I fucked her standing doggy-style in the pool. Water sloshed around us with each thrust, splashing over the edge, the sound mixing with skin slapping against skin and Yuna’s increasingly desperate moans.

The sun had shifted higher now, turning the terrace into an oven. Sweat mixed with pool water, making our bodies slide together with each thrust. The smell of chlorine and sex hung heavy in the air.

“Oh god -” she gasped, her hands gripping the pool edge for stability. “Yes - fuck - just like that -”

I grabbed her hips harder, pulling her back to meet my thrusts. Each impact sent ripples through her ass, the perfect bounce that I couldn’t tear my eyes away from.

“Harder -” she breathed, then louder: “Harder!”

I obliged, increasing the force, the pace. The pool water churned around us.

“Oh my god -” She was talking between moans now, her voice high and broken. “I can’t - this is -” A sharp gasp as I hit something deep. “Okay the last time I got fucked this good was - ahh - Sydney maybe? That dancer?”

She tried to look back at me, her face flushed. “But like - fuck - he wasn’t this big - you’re literally - ahh - ruining me for everyone else -”

“Fuck’s sake, Yuna,” I grunted, the question coming out more aggressive than I intended. “How many guys have you fucked?”

“I - oh god -” She tried to think, but I didn’t slow down. “Like - ahh - ninety? Maybe a hundred?” Her voice pitched higher as I hit a particularly deep angle. “I literally stopped counting after North America because it got too complicated -”

“A hundred?” Something primal surged in me. I slammed into her harder, making her yelp. “And I’m better than all of them?”

“Yes -” It came out as a whimper. “Fuck yes - you’re - oh my god - you’re so much better - you’re ruining me -”

She was trying to sound confident, trying to maintain that seductress persona, but every word was broken by gasps and moans. Her body was betraying her, submitting to me in a way I could tell she wasn’t used to.

I fucked her for what felt like an eternity, my stamina somehow holding despite this being my fifth round of the day. The angle was perfect, letting me go deep, hitting spots that made her legs tremble and her voice break into these high, desperate sounds.

Finally, she reached back, her hand finding my hip, stopping me mid-thrust.

“Wait -” she panted, her whole body heaving. “I need - change positions -”

She pushed forward, and my cock slipped out of her pussy with an obscene pop. A large bubble of trapped air followed, surfacing with a wet burst that would’ve been funny if we weren’t both so far gone. Our mixed fluids leaked into the pool, cloudy ribbons swirling in the clear water.

Yuna pulled herself out of the pool, water streaming off her lithe body, cascading down those impossibly long legs. Chlorine and sex hung thick in the air. She climbed onto the lounge chair with feline grace, then laid back, her legs spreading wide in invitation.

She looked like a goddess sprawled on that lounge chair - tan skin glistening, legs spread wide, chest heaving. The contrast of her delicate features and the absolute debauchery of her expression was intoxicating.

I got another perfect view of her pussy - swollen, pink, gaping slightly from my fucking. Her lips were puffy, glistening with arousal, and below it, her tight, puckered asshole remained untouched, a forbidden promise for another time.

“Come here,” she breathed, one hand trailing down her stomach to spread herself open for me. “I want to feel you deeper.”

I followed her like a man possessed, water dripping from my body as I positioned myself over her. I squatted down, angling my cock - thoroughly coated with her juices - toward her entrance.

Before I could thrust, her impossibly long legs wrapped around my hips and pulled, forcing me inside in one slick, smooth motion. She gasped, her eyes going wide, and I groaned as the new angle let me sink even deeper than before.

“Oh fuck,” she whimpered. “That’s - you’re so deep -”

I didn’t waste time. I started moving, building back to that punishing rhythm, and Yuna’s hands flew to my shoulders, pulling me down. Her lips found mine in a deep, desperate kiss. Our tongues tangled, our moans muffled as I fucked her with everything I had.

Her legs squeezed around my torso, her heels digging into my lower back, urging me deeper with each thrust. The lounge chair creaked beneath us, protesting the abuse.

“Mmph -” she gasped against my lips, breaking the kiss just long enough to speak. “Yes - fuck - yes -”

Her hand slipped between our bodies, fingers finding her clit and rubbing frantically. The added stimulation made her pussy clench around me, fluttering, and I groaned.

I grabbed her waist with both hands, my grip tight enough to leave marks. The sensation drove her wild. Her entire body arched off the chair like she was possessed, her small tits pressing against my chest, her nails raking down my back hard enough to sting.

“Don’t stop -” she whimpered. “Please don’t stop - I’m so close -”

I could feel my own orgasm building, slow but inevitable. The fifth of the day, and somehow still powerful, that heat coiling in my balls. I broke the kiss, gasping, “Yuna - I’m - I’m gonna -”

“Wait!” Her eyes flew open, wide and commanding. She pushed against my chest with surprising strength, forcing me to pull back.

I stumbled, my cock slipping out, slick and throbbing and angry at being denied. I stared at her in confusion, chest heaving.

She sat up, a wicked grin spreading across her flushed face. Her hair was a mess, her lips swollen from kissing, her whole body glistening with sweat and pool water.

“Okay - my turn,” she breathed, voice rough with arousal. “You earned it.” She was already moving, that wicked grin spreading. “Let me - fuck - let me show you why guys literally can’t shut up about this.”

Chapter 6: The Siren’s Satisfaction Marathon riding. Exhaustion wearing the face of desire.

I collapsed back onto the lounge chair, my chest heaving, every muscle in my body screaming from exhaustion. Five orgasms. I’d already blown five loads today, and somehow this insatiable siren wanted more.

Yuna stood over me, water still dripping from her hair, that wicked grin on her face. She looked like a goddess backlit by the afternoon sun - all long legs and wet skin, her small tits perfect and perky, her pussy still glistening and swollen from the pounding I’d just given her.

“Your turn to just lay there,” she purred, climbing onto the chair. “I wanna feel you from this angle.”

As she turned around to straddle me reverse cowgirl, I took the opportunity to cheekily slap her ass. The sound echoed across the terrace, a sharp crack that seemed to hang in the humid air, and her ass jiggled from the impact in a way that was absolutely mesmerizing.

It was plumper than Yeji’s, I couldn’t help but notice. Where Yeji was an athletic freak of nature - her body sculpted from marble and countless hours of dance practice, abs that could grate cheese and an ass that was pure, toned muscle like a weapon forged in a gym - Yuna was slimmer overall but blessed with godly hips and an ass that had just enough give to be perfect. Perfect for grabbing, perfect for slapping, perfect for watching bounce.

“What?” she asked, looking back at me over her shoulder with a coy smile as she positioned herself over my lap. Her hair fell across one eye, still dripping with pool water.

“Your ass,” I said, not even trying to hide my appreciation. My hands found her hips automatically. “I’m obsessed with it. The way it bounces, the way it feels...” I squeezed for emphasis. “I could watch it all day.”

She bit her lip, feigning shyness but clearly pleased. “You’re not the first guy to say that while fucking me, you know.” Then her expression shifted to that wicked grin. “But you’re probably the fastest I’ve ever let inside me. Like, most guys have to work for it. Wine and dine, or at least buy me coffee.” She glanced back at my cock, still hard despite everything. “You should be proud. Badge of honor or whatever.”

As she spoke, she reached down between her legs, her fingers wrapping around my shaft. Without missing a beat in her monologue, she guided me to her entrance and sank down in one smooth, practiced motion. Her pussy swallowed me whole, still slick and hot from our previous round.

“Fuck,” I groaned, my head falling back against the chair. My hands gripped her waist tighter.

She moaned softly - just a little hum of satisfaction - and started rolling her hips in slow, deliberate circles, getting comfortable, adjusting to the angle.

Then she glanced back at me, that teasing smirk playing on her lips.

“No wonder Yeji was screaming like that earlier,” she said breathlessly, already starting to move. There was something in her voice - a mix of jealousy and satisfaction, like she’d just confirmed a suspicion she’d been harboring. “You really know how to wreck a pussy.”

Before I could respond, she started riding in earnest. Her hair dripped water onto my chest, cold droplets contrasting with the heat of our bodies. Her hair dripped water onto my chest, cold droplets contrasting with the heat of our bodies. From this angle, I had a perfect view - her spine curving down to that perfect ass bouncing on my lap, water droplets catching sunlight on her skin. The wet skin-on-skin contact made every movement slicker, smoother, but somehow more intense.

The wet skin-on-skin contact made every movement slicker, smoother, but somehow more intense. Each time she rolled her hips, there was this slick, obscene sound, and I could feel every ridge and fold of her pussy as she moved.

“So,” she started, lifting herself up and dropping back down, establishing a rhythm. “I don’t usually fuck idols. Like Yeji does.”

“No?” I managed, my voice strained. She was moving faster now, really bouncing, and it was torture.

“Nah.” She bounced harder, her ass slapping against my thighs. “Male idols are so full of themselves. They think they’re God’s gift just because they have fangirls screaming their names.” She rolled her hips in a particularly devastating way. “But most of them? Terrible in bed. Like, genuinely bad.”

“How - how would you know?” I gasped as she picked up speed.

“Because I tried! Obviously.” She laughed breathlessly. “But nobody tells them they suck because they’re idols, you know? Too precious. So they just keep thinking they’re amazing when really they just -” She demonstrated with a few rough, graceless bounces. “ - pump away like that with zero technique.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, even through the pleasure. “So what, you - ah, fuck - you avoid them?”

“I hunt better prey.” She leaned back, changing the angle so I hit deeper, and we both groaned. “Guys who actually get how lucky they are, you know? Staff members, backup dancers, random hot guys I meet at clubs.” She was riding me harder now, really moving. “Because those guys? They actually try to make it good. They worship you like you’re doing them a favor.”

Her words were punctuated by moans and gasps as she rode me, her small tits bouncing with each movement. Water droplets flew from her hair, catching the sunlight.

My hands slid from her waist to her ass, grabbing, squeezing, trying to guide her movements but mostly just holding on. “You’re really good at this,” I groaned without thinking.

“At what?” She grinned down at me, knowing exactly what I meant.

“This. Riding. You’re - fuck - you’re incredible.”

“Yeah?” Her grin widened, something competitive flashing in her eyes. “You should feel lucky then. Most guys don’t get this far.” She bounced harder, as if to prove her point. “Actually, the last guy who got me this worked up was - mmm - Tuesday night? Wednesday morning? Right after our comeback stage.”

“Yeah?” I groaned.

“Yeah. He was cute. Quiet type.” She adjusted her angle, taking me deeper, and we both gasped. “Got him alone in one of the tech rooms and just - fuck - he went down on me for SO long. Like, I actually had to check my phone at one point to see if we had enough time before load-out.”

“Dedicated,” I managed.

“Right?” She was bouncing faster now, really riding me, chasing something. “Super eager. But his dick was like -” She made a so-so gesture with her hand while still moving. “Average? Maybe slightly above? Nothing like this.” She emphasized her point by dropping down hard, taking me to the hilt, and I groaned.

My orgasm was building rapidly. “Despite five previous loads, despite my wrecked body, despite my body being absolutely wrecked, she was riding me like it was a competition and she was determined to win. The way her pussy squeezed me, the visual of her ass bouncing, the sound of her voice mixing dirty stories with casual conversation - it was too much.

“Yuna -” I warned, my fingers digging into her hips. “I’m gonna -”

But she either didn’t hear me or didn’t care. She just kept riding, kept talking, her rhythm never breaking.

“Oh, and that dancer in LA -” She was breathless now, words coming out between gasps. “During our US leg - he had stamina but zero rhythm. Just - ahh - kept going and going but it was like - mmm - like fucking a metronome -”

I couldn’t hold back. My sixth orgasm of the day exploded out of me with a force that shocked even me. I bucked up involuntarily, burying myself as deep as possible as I pumped what felt like an impossible amount of cum deep into her pussy. I could feel it squirting out around my cock, our bodies too tightly pressed for it all to stay inside.

“Fuck!” I roared, every muscle in my body tensing, stars exploding behind my eyelids.

But Yuna just pressed a hand firmly against my chest, forcing me back down into the chair, and kept riding. She didn’t even pause. Didn’t even acknowledge it.

“ - and I literally had to fake it because he wasn’t getting me there -” she continued, as if I hadn’t just filled her with cum. “Which was so annoying because I was SO close but he just - ugh -”

The overstimulation was immediate and intense. My cock was hypersensitive, every movement of her pussy sending shockwaves through my body that bordered on painful. But she didn’t stop. She kept riding, kept talking, her rhythm never faltering even as my cum leaked out of her with each bounce.

“Then there was this producer guy - older, whatever -” She rolled her eyes even as she moved. “Came in like two minutes and acted like he did something impressive. Men are so -”

Her words cut off as she glanced down, finally noticing the absolute mess between us - cum coating both our thighs, dripping onto the chair, leaking out of her with each movement.

She looked back up at me, still riding, and asked almost conversationally, “Wait. Did you cum inside me?”

“Yes -” I gasped. “Yuna - please - I can’t -”

“Oh.” She said it so simply, so matter-of-factly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She processed this for a moment, still moving. Then shrugged. “Well, I’m not done yet, so...”

Then her talking shifted focus, and somehow this was worse.

“Unnie must really love this cock,” she said, her voice taking on a teasing edge as she rode me. “I bet she rode you just like this morning, huh? Did she bounce on it like this?” She demonstrated with a particularly hard drop that made me groan in agony-pleasure. “Did she take it this deep?”

“Yuna -”

“I bet her pussy isn’t as wet as mine though.” She was getting breathless now, chasing her own orgasm. “I bet she doesn’t get this sloppy. Wait, does she?”

All I could do was hold onto her waist for dear life, my fingers probably leaving bruises, as she used my oversensitive cock to get herself off. Her movements became more erratic, more desperate, her breath coming in short gasps.

“Fuck -” she whimpered. “Fuck, I’m - I’m gonna -”

And then she came. Hard.

Her entire body went rigid, her back arching like a bow, her pussy clamping down on my abused cock with industrial-grade suction - the kind Yeji bragged her Dyson had. She screamed - actually screamed -”Fuck - yes - Minho!” - her voice echoing off the villa walls.

Her orgasm seemed to last forever. Her walls spasmed around me in rhythmic pulses, her thighs shaking violently, her hands clawing at my chest hard enough to leave marks. Wave after wave crashed through her, her whole body trembling, and I watched in awe as this confident, cocky siren completely fell apart on top of me.

Spoiled brat always gets what she wants, I thought to myself.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she eased up. Her movements slowed to a gentle rock, then a stop. We were both panting, covered in sweat and pool water and cum. She lifted herself slowly, carefully, and my cock slipped out with a wet, obscene squelch.

We both looked down at the aftermath. My cock was glistening with our mixed fluids, still twitching slightly. Her pussy was absolutely wrecked - swollen, red, gaping slightly - with thick ropes of my cum leaking out and dripping onto my stomach in heavy globs.

Impulsively, without thinking, I reached down. I dipped my fingers into the cream pooling at her entrance, gathering some on my fingertips, and brought them to her lips.

She locked eyes with me - those dark, intense eyes - and slowly, sensually, licked my fingers clean. Her tongue swirled around each digit, lapping up every drop of our combined fluids while maintaining that intense eye contact.

In that moment, something passed between us. Not love - we weren’t delusional - but something. A deep, unspoken understanding. A connection forged through the most intense, raw, animalistic fucking either of us had experienced in a long time. We were both naked, breathless, absolutely destroyed, covered in each other’s fluids, and for a brief moment, time stood still.

The world was quiet except for our breathing.

And then we heard it.

The villa door banging open. Then slamming shut.

“YO!” Ryujin’s voice boomed through the house, loud and unmistakable, echoing off the walls. “ANYONE HOME?”

Yuna and I froze instantly.

Our eyes locked, going wide with panic. We were still in the exact same position - her straddling me on the lounge chair, cum leaking from her pussy, my hands on her hips, both of us completely naked and covered in evidence.

The exact same position I’d found her in when I first caught her masturbating on this very chair.

Intro | Masterlist | Series Index Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

――――――――――――――――――

Author’s Note

Whew - that’s the end of the first phase of the Yuna/Minho pool scene. Fun fact: the entire story was originally supposed to stop right here. This was meant to be a standalone Tumblr smut one-shot: sun, chlorine, reckless horniness. Yuna gets her victory lap, Minho gets obliterated with six orgasms, the chair survives (barely), and fade to black.

But then I had one intrusive, story-changing thought:

“Okay... but what if they got caught?”

And immediately everything unraveled in the best possible way. Because if anyone was going to walk in at the exact worst moment - kicking the door open, not giving a fuck, shouting “YO!” without a hint of shame - it would be Ryujin. And the moment she appears, the entire tone and trajectory of the story shifts. The chaos level spikes. The dynamics between the girls begin to matter. Minho stops being just a POV stand-in and becomes a character caught in their gravitational pull. The dom-leaning gremlin agent of sexual entropy has shows up, and suddenly Yuna isn’t the only siren on the terrace anymore.

From this interruption, the whole saga grew legs: the rivalry, the jealousy, the emotional depth under all the smut, the mythology of each girl - all of it starts here, with Ryujin barging in.

So if this chapter feels like the end of something - it is. But it’s also the moment the real story begins.

Thank you for surviving Yuna’s first act of terrorism - I hope you enjoyed every unhinged, chlorine-soaked second of it.

But Ryujin had already jammed her AirPods into her ears. The opening bars of "Run Away" - her upcoming solo track, the one that hadn't even been announced yet - flooded her senses and drowned out whatever lecture was about to follow. She stepped out of the car, her Nike slides slapping against the pavement, and slammed the door with just a touch more force than necessary.

Through the car window, she could see Manager Park's mouth still moving, her expression a mixture of concern and frustration. Ryujin turned away, cranking the volume up another notch.

The bass hit hard, matching the irritation simmering in her chest. Getting dragged out of bed at the crack of dawn for a goddamn medical checkup because of last night's "excessive behavior"? Fuck that noise.

Okay, run away, run away, run away from me -

The lyrics were about being loud enough, crude enough, shocking enough that people either kept their distance or took her exactly as she was. No hidden depths. No expectations of softness. Just raw, unapologetic intensity.

I'll take that ugly part.

She'd play the villain if that's what it took. The group whore. The bad influence. Yeji's warning label. Better to own the role than let anyone expect something gentler underneath.

Better to make people run than risk them getting close enough to realize she didn't know how to do "close" without chaos.

Ryujin shook her head, clearing the thought. She had a pool, she had her toys, and she had privacy for at least another hour.

That was all she needed.

As she stomped toward the villa entrance, her mind replayed the conversation - or rather, the scolding - from the ride back.

"Ryujin, do you understand the position you put yourself in last night?" Manager Park had said, her tone clinical but edged with genuine worry. "Five guys. Simultaneously. At the Aewol Beach Resort where half the industry is staying. Do you know how fast that kind of rumor spreads?"

Ryujin had just stared out the window, arms crossed. "It's vacation. I was having fun."

"Fun? The doctor said you have minor tearing - again. You're lucky it wasn't worse. And you won't get your test results back until tomorrow. Please tell me you at least used protection -"

"Nope." Ryujin had said it flatly, like she was commenting on the weather.

Manager Park's hands had tightened on the steering wheel. "Ryujin -"

"What? You're the ones who put me on the pill." She'd gestured vaguely. "That's birth control handled. And I get tested constantly. It's fine."

"It's not fine." Manager Park had exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Look, we get it. You have needs. I'm not judging. The company knows sexual satisfaction keeps you performing at your peak. But there are safer ways to do this. You know we can connect you with people - guys we know are tested, discreet, not going to run to Dispatch. I can make a call right now if you need -"

"I've already hooked up with most of them," Ryujin had interrupted, her voice bored. "They're all the same. Too polite, too careful, too fucking boring." She'd glanced at her manager. "I like variety. That's the whole point."

Manager Park had looked at her then, really looked at her, and Ryujin had seen something like pity in her eyes. "Then maybe consider what Chaeryeong and Lia do. Having someone consistent. A committed partner. Someone you trust who can -"

"No." Ryujin's voice had gone ice-cold. "I don't do that relationship bullshit. I fuck who I want, when I want. That's the whole point."

The conversation had ended there, both of them sitting in tense silence for the rest of the drive.

***

Now, standing at the villa door, Ryujin yanked out one earbud and yelled, "YO! ANYONE HOME?"

Her voice echoed through the space, but no response came.

Weird, she thought, stepping inside and kicking off her slides. The villa was eerily quiet. Usually, there'd be something - music playing, someone clattering around in the kitchen, Yeji barking orders at someone over the phone. But now? Nothing.

She padded through the living room, her bare feet silent on the cool tile. "Yeji? Yuna? Lia?"

Still nothing.

Ryujin's mind began running through the possibilities, and - true to form - her first instinct was to assume everyone was off doing something filthy.

Yeji's probably at that Pilates class. She never misses it, even on vacation. Bet she's already sizing up which instructor she wants to ruin.

Chaeryeong mentioned tennis with Sunwoo this morning. Those two are probably off in some equipment shed. Girl's into that romantic bondage shit - wouldn't surprise me if he's got her bent over a net right now.

Yuna went to the beach hours ago. Probably seduced some tourist and drained his soul out through his dick by now. Or she's hunting for round two.

And Minho... Ryujin frowned. The guy was a mystery. She knew he and Yeji had some kind of arrangement - back at the dorms, the walls weren't exactly soundproof. Ryujin had heard them more than once, Yeji's voice carrying through the walls, shamelessly loud, all breathy moans and sharp gasps and muted screams. But whenever anyone asked, Yeji swore they weren't dating.

Ryujin had learned not to push it after the yacht party in Busan six months ago. She'd made some offhand comment about Minho being "available," and Yeji had pulled her aside with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"He's not," Yeji had said quietly. "Whatever you're thinking, don't."

"I was just -"

"I mean it, Ryujin-ah." Yeji's voice had been soft but absolutely steel. "Leave him out of it."

Ryujin had laughed it off at the time, but the message was clear: Yeji didn't share this one.

How the hell did some regular guy get that deep into Yeji's guard anyway? Ryujin wondered, not for the first time. Girl's got standards higher than Namsam tower, and she's out here fucking the cream of the crop in this industry. He must have a magic dick or something.

But the silence was getting to her. And more importantly, the ache between her legs was getting worse. Last night's fuckfest had left her sore but not satisfied - never satisfied. The body check had only made her hornier, the clinical probing of her well-used pussy a reminder of how badly she needed to get off again.

Pool time, she decided. Quality alone time with my toys.

She headed upstairs, her bare feet silent on the steps. As she walked down the hallway toward her room, she passed by Lia's door and heard muffled sounds - shuffling, maybe a low moan.

She paused, then knocked once. "Lia-unnie? You alive in there?"

No response.

Ryujin smirked. Either passed out or getting dicked down by Minjun. Probably the latter.

Get yours, girl, Ryujin thought, chuckling to herself. She decided to leave them be and continued to her own room.

Inside, she headed straight for her suitcase. Unzipping the hidden compartment she'd sewn into the lining herself, she pulled out her vacation collection - a carefully curated arsenal that would make even the most seasoned sex shop owner raise an eyebrow.

First, The Beast: a thick, veined, purple silicone dildo that was at least nine inches long and as thick as her wrist. She'd had it custom-made in Tokyo last year, and it was her go-to when human cocks weren't cutting it. The weight of it in her hand always made her pussy clench in anticipation.

Next to it, a sleek, curved G-spot vibrator in matte black, waterproof and powerful enough to make her squirt in under a minute if she angled it right.

Then, a jeweled butt plug - one she'd sometimes lent to Yeji during their drunken late-night "toy comparison" sessions in the dorms. Yeji had her own, but she claimed Ryujin's was "more aesthetically pleasing."

A waterproof bullet vibe, small but devastating when pressed directly against her clit.

And finally, the piece de resistance: a translucent, double-ended dildo she'd bought on a whim at the Red Light District in Amsterdam. She and Yeji had talked about using it together once - drunk after some award show, sprawled on the hotel bed, laughing about who could take more inches. "When we're both feeling adventurous," Yeji had said, her eyes glinting with that competitive spark. "I'll make you tap out first. Bet I can take the whole thing before you can."

But that was years ago, back when Yeji was still fun. These days, when Ryujin suggested anything - parties, group hangs with other idols, even just going out - Yeji had excuses. "I'm tired." "I have plans." "Next time, Ryuddaeng."

Ryujin ran her thumb over the smooth silicone, frowning. When was the last time Yeji had even mentioned hooking up with someone new? The Busan yacht party, maybe? And even then, she hadn't hooked up with anyone - just spent the entire night glued to that Minho guy's side, shooting death glares at anyone who looked at him too long. It was bizzare, her being suddenly territorial in a way that didn't match her whole "I don't do relationships" thing.

When Ryujin had teased her about it the next morning - "So where did you and your 'trainee friend' sneak off to fuck last night?" - Yeji had gotten weirdly defensive. "We didn't. He's literally just my friend from trainee days. Stop making everything sexual."

Bullshit. Ryujin had seen the way Yeji's hand lingered on his lower back, possessive and familiar. The way she'd leaned into him when she laughed, her body language screaming mine to anyone paying attention. Even Chaeryeong - sweet, romantic Chaeryeong who normally saw love stories in every interaction - had pulled Ryujin aside and whispered, "Unnie's totally in bed with him, right? Like, that's not just me being delusional?"

No, it wasn't just her. Everyone could see it except apparently Yeji herself. Or maybe she could see it and was just too fucking stubborn to admit it.

Whatever. Yeji could do her hermit routine. Ryujin had plenty of other ways to entertain herself.

Ryujin grabbed The Beast and the bullet vibe, tucking them under her arm, then paused. She glanced down at herself - still in the oversized hoodie and bike shorts she'd thrown on for the ride to the clinic.

Should probably change into a swimsuit though, she thought, eyeing her open trunk.

She walked over and flipped open the section where she'd packed her beach gear. A riot of fabric spilled out - string bikinis in every color, one-pieces with strategic cutouts, that ridiculous neon pink thong set Yeji had dared her to buy in Myeongdong.

Her fingers found the light green bikini she'd bought specifically for this trip. Triangle top, thin as fuck, with those decorative buttons that literally did nothing. Bottoms with side ties that looked like they'd come undone if you sneezed.

She held it up, considering.

Then she remembered: Oh right... the villa's empty. Literally no one's here.

"Fuck it," she muttered, tossing the bikini back into the trunk.

She peeled off her hoodie in one smooth motion, tossing it onto the bed. Her sports bra followed - a simple black thing that had been compressing her tits all morning. She sighed with relief as they bounced free, her wide-set B-cups settling naturally on her broad chest. They were surprisingly soft compared to the rest of her body, pale and full, with large brown nipples that were already perking up in the cool air.

Next came the bike shorts, which she shimmied down her thick, muscular thighs. She kicked them off along with her underwear - basic cotton boyshorts because she'd learned long ago that anything lacy just got destroyed by her lifestyle.

She stood there for a moment, completely naked, and caught her reflection in the full-length mirror mounted on the closet door.

Not bad, she thought, striking a mock pose.

Ryujin knew she wasn't built like the other members. She wasn't toned and athetic like Yeji, wasn't delicate and elegant like Chaeryeong, wasn't blessed with Yuna's godly hips and infinite legs. But what she had was power. Presence. A body that screamed I can fuck you into the mattress and then do it again.

She glanced down. The wild tangle of dark hair between her legs hadn't been touched by a razor in months - maybe years. She'd tried waxing once and hated the sting, tried shaving and got irritated bumps that made dancing hell. So she'd said fuck it and let nature take its course. That suited her, anyway.

She ran a hand down her stomach, fingers brushing through the hair, and felt the familiar throb of arousal. The medical checkup this morning, the memories of last night, the lecture from Manager Park - it had all left her wound tighter than a spring.

Pool time, she decided again, grabbing her toys. Definitely pool time.

She padded out of her room naked, not bothering with even a towel. The tiles were cool under her bare feet as she made her way back downstairs, The Beast tucked under one arm, the bullet vibe in her other hand.

The villa was still silent. Still empty.

Perfect.

She slid open the glass door to the pool deck, and the late morning sun hit her skin like a warm blanket. The terrace was deserted - lounge chairs empty, pool surface perfectly still, not a soul in sight.

Ryujin grinned, striding out onto the deck completely naked and unbothered, her tits bouncing lightly with each step, her unshaved pussy on full display to absolutely no one.

This was going to be a good morning.

[MINHO'S POV - FIRST PERSON]

"YO! ANYONE HOME?"

Ryujin's voice hit like a fucking air horn, and every muscle in my body locked up. Yuna and I were still on the lounge chair, naked, her pussy still leaking my cum onto the deck in thick, obscene globs. My cock was soft, spent, useless - but very much still there, and very much still covered in evidence.

Our eyes met, wide with panic.

"Fuck," I mouthed.

"Shit," Yuna mouthed back.

We heard Ryujin's voice moving through the villa, calling out for the others. It got fainter as she went upstairs, but we both knew she'd be back down any second.

"What do we do?" I whispered, barely audible.

Yuna's eyes darted around the pool area, and then she saw it - the outdoor shower cubicle at the far end of the terrace. It was just a wooden box with slatted walls, offering the illusion of privacy from a distance but absolutely useless up close.

"Over there," she breathed, pointing.

"Yuna, that's not going to -"

But she wasn't listening. She grabbed my cock - my cock, not my hand, which I found both hilarious and concerning - and yanked me forward. I bit back a yelp as she dragged me off the chair, our bodies still slick with sweat and cum, and pulled me across the pool deck. We left a trail of wet footprints and cum drips that could probably be seen from space.

"Come on!" she hissed, shoving me toward the shower.

I stumbled forward, my soft, abused cock flopping around like a dying fish, and reached the cubicle just as we heard the villa's sliding door open.

I yanked the door open, threw myself inside, and Yuna pressed in behind me, her body flush against mine as she eased the door shut with agonizing slowness. Through the slats, I could see the poolside lounge chair - towels bunched up, wet spots everywhere, and a fucking cum puddle glistening in the sun. If Ryujin looked at it for more than two seconds, we were dead.

The space was tiny. Her small, perky tits were crushed against my chest, her hard nipples digging into my skin. My cock, still sticky and soft, was pressed against her flat stomach, and I could feel her pussy - still leaking my cum - against my thigh.

She looked up at me with those huge, puppy-dog eyes, one finger pressed to her lips in a silent plea: Don't. Make. A. Sound.

I nodded, my heart hammering in my chest.

And then, because the universe has a sick sense of humor, my cock twitched.

Yuna's eyes widened, and she glanced down, then back up at me with a look that clearly said, Are you fucking kidding me right now?

I couldn't help it. She was pressed against me, naked and warm and still smelling like sex, and my traitorous cock was apparently ready for round six.

She turned slightly, trying to peek through the slats to see where Ryujin was, and her ass - that perfect, tight, bouncy ass - pressed directly against my now half-hard cock.

In an instant, I was rock-hard again.

I couldn't stop myself. I pushed forward, my cock sliding between her ass cheeks, and Yuna let out the softest, most desperate whimper I'd ever heard.

She turned her head, her lips right next to my ear, and whispered, "Don't. You. Dare." But even as she said it, her hand slid back, fingers wrapping around my cock, giving it one slow, deliberate stroke.

Her body betrayed her. Her hips pushed back, just slightly, grinding against me.

And that's when we heard Ryujin's footsteps on the pool deck, less than ten feet away.

Chapter 9: Can of Worms Confrontation. Chaos. The dragon wakes.

[MINHO'S POV - FIRST PERSON]

Ryujin's footsteps echoed across the pool deck like gunshots, each one making my heart slam harder against my ribs. Yuna was still pressed against me in the cramped shower cubicle, her entire body trembling - whether from fear or arousal, I couldn't tell. Probably both.

Through the narrow gaps in the wooden slats, I had a perfect view of the pool area. Ryujin emerged fully onto the terrace, and my breath caught.

She was completely naked.

Apart from Yuna - who I'd just spent the last hour fucking in every position imaginable, and whose cum-filled pussy was currently pressed against my back in this death trap of a shower cubicle - I'd never seen any of the other ITZY members nude before. Yeji was weirdly territorial about me, usually keeping me separate from the others despite how freely she fucked around the industry herself. But now, watching Ryujin stride confidently across the deck without a stitch of clothing, I understood why she had such a fierce reputation.

She was built like a goddamn tank. Not in a bad way - in a powerful, intimidating, absolutely fuckable way. Her body was stocky and solid, all compact muscle and curves in the right places. Her thighs were thick and strong, the kind that could probably crush a man's head if she wanted to. Her torso was straight and athletic, broad shoulders tapering to a sturdy core. And her tits - surprisingly soft-looking B-cups that contrasted with the rest of her powerful frame - bounced slightly as she walked.

But it was her pussy that made my cock twitch involuntarily inside the tight space. Even from this distance, I could see it clearly - completely unshaved, a wild tangle of dark hair framing swollen, perpetually damp lips that looked like they'd seen a lot of action. Her outer lips were thick and meaty, and I swore I could see a hint of pink peeking through.

Yuna felt my cock harden further against her and shot me a warning glare. I mouthed sorry, but honestly, I wasn't.

Ryujin approached the lounge chair - the same one Yuna and I had just vacated - and flopped down onto it without a second thought.

[RYUJIN'S POV - THIRD PERSON]

The cushion squished beneath Ryujin's ass as she settled onto the lounge chair, and she frowned slightly. It was damp. Not pool-water damp, but... sticky. Warm. She shifted her hips, feeling the slickness transfer to her skin.

Under normal circumstances, she might have investigated. But right now, her pussy was throbbing so hard she could barely think straight. The medical checkup this morning, the lecture from Manager Park, the memories of last night's five-way fuckfest with those frat boys - it had all left her wound up tighter than a drum.

She reached for her phone and her collection of toys, arranging them on the side table like a surgeon prepping for an operation. She propped the phone against a water bottle at the perfect angle to see the screen. The Beast - that monstrous purple dildo that was thicker than most men's wrists - sat ready. She grabbed the waterproof bullet vibe first, clicking it to the highest setting. The angry buzz filled the air.

Ryujin unlocked her phone and navigated to her hidden folder, scrolling past dozens of videos. She paused on one labeled "Natty_TheShow_Sticky_Afterparty_2024.mp4" - a secret recording Lia had sourced from the afterparty following KISS OF LIFE's first-ever music show win for "Sticky" back in July 2024. Natty had been riding high on the victory, and Yeji - being the generous unnie she was - had set her up with Hyunjin and Felix as a celebration gift. Natty had apparently decided to thank them by getting absolutely destroyed in a hotel room. Ryujin had watched it at least a dozen times, and it never got old.

She pressed play, then grabbed her wireless earbuds from the side table, popping them in. The audio quality was way better than phone speakers, and she didn't need the whole neighborhood hearing Natty getting railed.

The video started with shaky footage of a hotel room, the camera clearly propped on a nightstand. In the frame, Natty was on all fours on the bed, completely naked, her face pressed into the mattress. Behind her stood two men - Ryujin recognized them as Hyunjin and Felix, both shirtless, both with their cocks out.

The angle was obscene. The camera captured everything - Natty's face, twisted in pleasure, drool pooling on the sheets. Her pussy, stretched around Felix's thick cock as he pounded into her from behind. And her ass, where Hyunjin was slowly working his cock into her tight hole.

"Fuck - yes - harder - " Natty's voice came through the earbuds, raw and desperate.

Ryujin spread her legs wide on the lounge chair, not caring about the mysterious dampness beneath her. She pressed the bullet vibe directly against her clit and groaned at the instant surge of pleasure.

"Fuck..." she breathed, her head falling back.

With her free hand, she grabbed The Beast. She licked her palm - forgot the lube upstairs, whatever - and smeared spit along the massive silicone shaft. Then she positioned the bulbous head at her entrance.

On her phone, Natty was screaming now as both men thrust into her simultaneously, filling both holes.

Ryujin pushed. Her cunt took the toy's head with a wet squelch - years of stretching herself wider and wider meant she could take almost anything now. She grunted, forcing it deeper, feeling the burn as it stretched her open. Inch by inch, she worked it in until the base pressed against her outer lips.

"Shit - " she hissed, her thighs quivering. The fullness was overwhelming, bordering on painful, but that's exactly what she needed.

She started pumping the dildo in and out, matching the rhythm of the fucking on her phone screen. The bullet vibe buzzed relentlessly against her clit, and within seconds, she was moaning openly, her voice echoing across the empty pool deck.

[MINHO'S POV - FIRST PERSON]

"Holy fuck," I whispered, my eyes glued to the scene unfolding through the slats.

Yuna was peeking too, her breath hot against my neck. "Wait, is that The Beast?" Her whisper was way too loud. "Oh my god it is. Yeji mentioned it once and I thought she was bullshitting but that's... that's crazy. Why am I turned on right now? This is so fucked up."

It was massive. And Ryujin was taking it like an absolute champion, slamming it into herself with brutal force while the bullet vibe worked her clit. Her moans drifted across the deck, raw and uninhibited, mixing with the sounds coming from whatever porn she was watching on her phone.

The sight was incredibly erotic. Watching someone pleasure themselves - especially someone as wild and shameless as Ryujin - was like witnessing something private and forbidden. My cock, which had been half-hard from the moment Yuna pressed against me, was now fully erect again, throbbing insistently against her lower back.

Yuna shifted slightly to get a better view, and the movement had consequences.

We were both still slick - drenched in sweat, pool water, and the copious fluids from our marathon fuck session. Her pussy was still gaping slightly from the pounding I'd given her, leaking my cum down her thighs. And when she shifted, pressing her ass back against me for balance, my cock slipped down from where it had been wedged between her ass cheeks.

The head caught on something soft and wet.

Her pussy lips.

And because she was so open, so stretched, so impossibly slick with our mixed fluids, there was zero resistance.

Schlock.

My cock slipped inside her.

All the way.

In one smooth, unintentional glide, I was buried to the hilt in her heat.

Yuna's entire body went rigid. Her mouth opened in a silent gasp, her eyes going wide as dinner plates. She whipped her head around to stare at me, her expression a mixture of shock, accusation, and - unmistakably - arousal.

She mouthed silently: "How are you still hard?!"

I mouthed back: "I don't know!"

Her eyes narrowed: "Seriously?!"

She clamped a hand over her own mouth to stifle any sound, her eyebrows shooting up. Through the slats, we could still see Ryujin, completely oblivious, lost in her own world of pleasure as she destroyed her pussy with that monster dildo.

I tried to pull back, to give Yuna space, but the shower cubicle was too small. Any movement just shifted the angle, and pulling back even slightly made my cock drag along her sensitive walls, making her eyes flutter.

She tried to push forward, away from me, but that just pressed her against the wooden door, which creaked ominously. She froze.

We were trapped. I was balls-deep inside her, my cock throbbing in the velvet heat of her cum-filled pussy, and neither of us could move without risking discovery.

Yuna turned her head, her lips right next to my ear. "Don't. Move," she hissed, breath shaking.

But her body betrayed her. I felt her pussy clench around me - a deliberate squeeze that made my breath hitch. She did it again, tighter this time, and I had to bite my lip to keep from groaning.

"Yuna - " I breathed.

"Shut up," she hissed back, but there was no real heat in her words. Because even as she said it, she pushed back against me, taking me impossibly deeper.

We started moving. Small thrusts at first, barely more than flexing. I held her hips, my fingers digging into her flesh, and made the tiniest rocking motion. She matched me, pushing back, and the friction - oh man, the friction - was exquisite.

Every time Ryujin let out a particularly loud moan outside, we took advantage of the noise cover. I'd pull back an inch and thrust forward, and Yuna would suppress a whimper by biting her own hand.

"This is - fuck - this is so wrong," she whispered, trembling. "Morally, spiritually, career-endingly wrong."

"Do you want me to stop?" I asked, though I wasn't sure I could even if she said yes.

She was quiet for a moment, and then: "No. Just - just go slow. If she catches us, I'll literally never hear the end of it."

So we fucked in agonizing slow motion. Standing doggy style in a wooden box, watching Ryujin pleasure herself ten feet away, moving so carefully that every thrust felt like it lasted an eternity. The wet sounds of our coupling were muffled by Ryujin's own moans and the buzzing of her vibrator, but every time the deck went quiet, we froze, holding our breath.

Yuna's pussy was a mess - red, puffy, absolutely soaked with my previous load and her own juices. Every thrust made obscene squelching sounds that I was certain would give us away, but somehow, Ryujin remained oblivious.

But slow wasn't enough. The animal urges - the same primal instincts that had driven us to fuck like rabbits earlier - were building again. Yuna's breathing got faster, more desperate. Her hand reached back to grip my thigh, nails digging in.

"I need - " she gasped. "I need more."

"Yuna, if we - "

She cut me off by spinning around in the tight space, nearly kneeing me in the balls in the process. Now we were face-to-face, her huge puppy-dog eyes boring into mine, dark with lust. She hooked one leg over my hip, opening herself up completely.

"Fuck me," she demanded in a whisper, grabbing my jaw. "Please. I need it. I'm gonna lose my fucking mind."

I didn't need to be told twice.

I grabbed her ass with both hands, lifting her slightly so she was impaled on my cock at a better angle. The position was precarious - one wrong move and we'd both crash through the wooden door - but I didn't care. I drove into her, and she immediately buried her face in my neck to muffle her scream.

We fell into a frantic rhythm. I pumped into her, my hips moving in short, sharp thrusts, while she clung to me like a lifeline. Her leg wrapped tighter around my waist, her heel digging into my lower back. The wet slapping sounds of our bodies connecting filled the small space, surely audible over the wind, but Ryujin's own pleasure sounds masked everything.

I attacked her mouth with mine, swallowing her whimpers and moans. Our tongues tangled desperately as I fucked her against the wall, her small tits pressed flat against my chest. She tasted like salt and desperation and need.

"Harder," she gasped into my mouth between kisses. "Please - Minho - harder - "

I obliged, slamming into her with more force. Her pussy was absolutely wrecked - puffy, red, gaping, and still somehow gripping me like a vice. I could feel my earlier loads sloshing around inside her, making every thrust slicker and filthier.

"Look at me," I commanded, pulling back from the kiss.

She opened her eyes, and the raw emotion I saw there - lust, yes, but also something deeper, more vulnerable - nearly undid me.

"You feel so fucking good," I told her, my voice rough. "Your pussy is perfect. So tight. So wet. Taking my cock so well."

"Minho - " she whimpered, her nails raking down my back. "I'm close - I'm so close - "

"Me too," I grunted, feeling the familiar heat building in my balls. "Fuck, Yuna, I'm gonna cum again - "

"Inside," she begged, her voice breaking. "Please - inside - fill me up - "

Outside, we heard Ryujin cry out: "FUCK! YES! RIGHT THERE!"

Taking advantage of the noise, I let go of my restraint. I pounded into Yuna with everything I had, the shower cubicle creaking and swaying from the force. She clung to me, her mouth open in a silent scream, her pussy clenching rhythmically as her orgasm built.

"Minho - Minho - Minho - " she chanted, and then she shattered.

Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave. Her entire body went rigid, her pussy clamping down on me so hard it almost hurt. I felt her gush around my cock, a flood of fluids that soaked both our thighs. Her eyes rolled back, her mouth frozen open in ecstasy.

I was right behind her. With a final, brutal thrust, I buried myself to the hilt and came.

My sixth orgasm of the day ripped through me. It should have been impossible - I should have been shooting dust by now - but somehow, my body found more. I pumped load after thick load into her already overfilled pussy, my cock pulsing with each spurt. It felt endless, overwhelming, like every nerve in my body was firing at once.

Yuna was trembling, her leg shaking where it was hooked around my waist. Her hand flailed out, seeking purchase, seeking balance -

And grabbed the shower handle.

HISSSSS -

The overhead shower roared to life, dumping ice-cold water onto both of us. Yuna yelped, her hand immediately slapping the handle back, cutting the flow.

The damage was done.

Silence.

My cock was still pulsing inside her. Still pumping cum into her womb. My body hadn't gotten the message yet that we were about to die - it was still riding the waves of orgasm, still flooding her with warmth, still throbbing with aftershocks.

But my brain - my brain was screaming.

Then, from outside: "What the fuck?"

Time stopped.

We froze. Yuna's eyes met mine, wide with terror, her pupils blown. I could feel her heart hammering against my chest. Could feel her pussy clenching around me in fear, which only made my cock pulse harder, which made more cum leak into her -

No. Stop. Stop cumming. STOP -

But my body wouldn't listen.

We heard the sound of Ryujin's phone being paused.

Then the creak of the lounge chair as she stood up.

Another pulse. Another spurt. My cock kept going, the orgasm stretched out impossibly long, lengthened by terror into something that felt like it would never end.

"Hello?" Ryujin called out.

Footsteps. Deliberate. Getting closer.

Move, my brain screamed. Pull out. Hide. Do SOMETHING.

But we were locked together. Yuna's leg was hooked over my hip, her arms wrapped around my neck. My hands were gripping her ass. My cock was still twitching inside her, still releasing weak spurts with each terrified heartbeat. We couldn't separate without making noise. Couldn't move without the door creaking.

Pulse. Spurt. Pulse. Spurt.

Stop. Please fucking stop -

"If that's some fucking maintenance guy sneaking around while I'm trying to rub one out, I swear to god - "

The footsteps were right outside the door now.

Yuna's nails dug into my shoulders. Her breath came in short, panicked gasps against my neck.

My cock pulsed again. And again. The fear should have killed my erection, should have ended this, but instead it stretched everything out - sensation, time, the orgasm itself - into an agonizing eternity.

The door handle rattled.

Another throb. Another weak spurt painting her walls.

I was so fucked.

My cock gave another involuntary pulse - still going, still finishing, completely oblivious to the fact that my entire world was about to end.

The door swung open.

Sunlight flooded the cramped space, blinding after the shadows.

***

[RYUJIN'S POV - THIRD PERSON]

Ryujin had been right there. Right on the fucking edge.

On her phone screen, Natty was cumming, both holes stuffed with cock, her face a mess of tears and drool. In reality, The Beast was hitting Ryujin's cervix at just the right angle, and the bullet vibe was turning her clit into a numb, oversensitive mess. She was seconds - seconds - away from a leg-shaking, soul-destroying orgasm.

And then - the sound of rushing water.

It cut through the air, distinct and jarring and completely unexpected. Ryujin's hips froze mid-buck, her brain trying to process what she'd just heard.

The sound stopped as abruptly as it had started.

She paused the video on her phone, ripping off her earbuds. Her heavy breathing was the only sound on the deck now.

"What the fuck?" she muttered, staring at the wooden shower cubicle at the far end of the pool.

Nothing.

She knew she was alone. She'd checked the whole villa. Unless...

"Hello?" she called out, annoyance flaring in her chest.

Still nothing.

"If that's maintenance creeping around while I'm trying to rub one out, I swear to god - "

She stood up. In her haste and horniness, she didn't bother removing The Beast. The massive dildo was still buried inside her, the base protruding from her crotch like a purple handle. She waddled across the deck, naked, furious, and still clutching the buzzing bullet vibe.

Each step made the dildo shift inside her, hitting sensitive spots that made her pussy clench involuntarily. Under different circumstances, she might have enjoyed it. Right now, she was just pissed.

She reached the wooden door of the shower cubicle. She grabbed the handle without knocking - because why the fuck would she knock on her own villa's outdoor shower? - and yanked it open.

Sunlight flooded the dark interior.

And Ryujin's brain exploded.

***

Inside the cramped cubicle, crammed together like guilty sardines, were Minho and Yuna.

They were frozen in a position that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

Minho was backed against the far wall, his hands gripping Yuna's ass. Yuna was facing him, one leg hooked high over his hip, her arms wrapped around his neck. Her hair was plastered to her face, wet from the brief shower blast. Water droplets ran down both their bodies.

And connecting them - plain as fucking day, impossible to misinterpret - was Minho's cock, buried to the hilt inside Yuna's pussy.

Ryujin's eyes traveled down, taking in every detail with the precision of a crime scene investigator.

Yuna's pussy was absolutely wrecked. Her lips were swollen and red, stretched obscenely around Minho's thick shaft. White foam - clearly cum, and lots of it - was visible at the point of connection, where their bodies met. More of it dripped down Yuna's inner thigh in thick rivulets, mixing with clear fluids.

As Ryujin watched, frozen in her own shock, Minho's cock gave an involuntary throb inside Yuna. A fresh spurt of white leaked from where they were connected, adding to the puddle forming on the shower floor.

They stared at Ryujin.

Ryujin stared back.

Her eyes went from their faces, to where they were joined, to the cum dripping down Yuna's leg, to the wet footprints leading from the lounge chair to the shower - the same chair she'd been laying on - and suddenly, everything clicked into place.

The damp cushion. The sticky warmth. The smell.

For a moment, her brain just... stalled.

Ryujin had walked in expecting to find maybe a leaky pipe. A broken shower head. Maybe that fucking peacock from down the beach.

Not this.

Not Shin Yuna - wrapped around Yeji's guy, mid-fuck, covered in evidence.

Her mind fired in rapid succession:

Yuna.

Of fucking course it's Yuna.

The girl who'd been eye-fucking every male idol at award shows since debut. The girl who bombed their group chat with thirst tweets at 3 AM. The girl who'd gotten into a screaming match with Ryujin last month over who got to take home that backup dancer. The girl who masturbated in the dressing room van during music show circuits and thought nobody noticed. The girl who collected men like fucking Pokémon cards and got competitive about bodycount during drunk confessions.

Yuna was horny, competitive, and had zero impulse control on her best days.

But still -

Ryujin's eyes tracked the evidence: cum dripping down Yuna's thighs, her absolutely demolished pussy, the damp lounge chair, the wet footprints.

Out of ALL the dick at Aewol - all the actors, idols, athletes throwing themselves at her - she went after YEJI's?

Because that's what Minho was, right? Yeji's secret boyfriend. The guy she'd been weirdly territorial about since that Busan party. The one time Yeji had ever introduced a man to them and immediately yanked him away with that possessive grip. He had to be.

Ryujin remembered the yacht party six months ago - the way Yeji held onto his arm, the defensive edge in her voice when she said "friend," the warning she'd given Ryujin afterward:

"Stay away from him, Ryuddaeng. I mean it. We share guys all the time, you know that. But not this one. Not him."

But Ryujin had also doubted it. Because Yeji didn't DO boyfriends. Yeji didn't catch feelings. And every time Ryujin had asked directly, Yeji would deny it with that flat, annoyed look that said "drop it."

So Ryujin had filed it away as probably secret boyfriend but also maybe I'm reading too much into this because Yeji dating anyone is fucking weird.

But regardless of WHAT Minho was to Yeji - boyfriend, favorite fuck, whatever - one thing was crystal fucking clear:

Yeji had drawn a line. A hard line. The kind Yeji never drew.

And Yuna, that competitive little bitch, had gone and fucked him anyway.

The shock on Ryujin's face melted away - not into anger or concern for Yeji's feelings (they'd deal with that shitstorm later), but into something far more immediate:

Holy shit, Yuna's got BALLS.

Stupid, reckless, absolutely-gonna-get-murdered-by-Yeji balls.

But balls.

Her eyes flicked down involuntarily - well, Yuna didn't have balls, but Minho sure as fuck did, and from this angle they were slapping wet against Yuna's ass with every frozen micro-twitch.

Fucking hell.

The corner of her mouth twitched.

This was the messiest, most entertaining disaster she'd walked into in months. And Ryujin had never been good at walking away from entertaining disasters.

"Oh my god," Ryujin breathed.

She stood there, naked, a massive purple dildo still protruding from her own pussy, a vibrator buzzing in her hand, staring at her group's maknae getting caught mid-creampie by Yeji's supposed "friend."

She looked at Yuna's expression - not just mortified, but terrified. Because Yuna knew exactly what she'd done. Knew exactly whose man she'd just fucked. Knew exactly how Yeji was going to react when she found out.

Then she looked at Minho's deer-in-headlights panic - this poor bastard looked like he wanted to dissolve into the shower tiles.

Her gaze shifted down to where they were still connected - his cock buried in Yuna, still visibly pulsing with aftershocks.

Then she looked down at herself - naked, dripping pool water, The Beast lodged inside her, vibrator still buzzing.

The outdoor shower dripped. The vibrator in her hand buzzed. The Beast shifted inside her with each breath. The absurdity of the moment hung in the air - all three of them caught mid-sex-act, all naked, all frozen.

The shock on her face slowly, agonizingly, melted away like ice in the sun. Her eyes narrowed. The corner of her mouth twitched.

"Well," she said, and a laugh bubbled up - sharp, delighted, slightly manic. "This is fucking awkward."