Substitute-Chapter 36

One by one, they were all called forward and had their flaws pointed out in front of everyone.

Though calling them "flaws" was generous—really, it was more like nitpicking. After all, every crew member here had already passed the second interview naked, with their genital measurements taken down. Then, after the final round, they went through a full medical exam before being selected. Physically speaking, none of them really had any "weak points."

And yet, criticism was inevitable. Either their standards were absurdly high, or it was all just a tactic to keep them insecure and obedient. One way or another, they were going to have to exercise.

“Sailor 1 and Wild Dog 3, remain behind for now.”

Jiwon looked at the man beside him—the one who’d been called alongside him. The guy, a good head taller, wore a muzzle and went by Wild Dog 3. Seemed like he needed to work on his ass, too.

Unlike Jiwon, who was a little embarrassed, the muzzled guy beamed.

“You’ve got a cute butt. Mine’s kind of flat,” Wild Dog 3 said like a grinning fool.

Flat, my ass. For a guy, his butt was perfectly normal. And yet they were calling that flat.

Fucking picky bastards, Jiwon muttered to himself.

With Jiwon and Wild Dog 3 left in standby, the five trainers split the rest of the crew into groups of three or four and gave a quick rundown on how to use the equipment and what routines to follow. A lot of the crew were already experienced with gym workouts, so the orientation wrapped up fast.

Before they got started, drinks were passed around. Jiwon was thirsty, so he took one—only to realize it wasn’t water. It was some kind of pre-workout booster. They said it had essential amino acids, arginine, and whatnot, but there was no way to know what was actually in it. Still, everyone was watching, and no one else hesitated, so Jiwon drank it too.

Only after the booster did they receive two bottles of regular water each.

The workout began.

The blue-masked trainer approached. Seemed like he’d been assigned to take care of Jiwon and Wild Dog 3’s asses. He guided the two of them kindly and laid out the exercises they’d be doing for the week.

Squats and lunges were a given. Then came kettlebell swings, stiff-legged deadlifts, hip abductions, hyperextensions, reverse hyperextensions—a whole list of glute-focused movements.

Of course, that wasn’t all. They had to balance their training. Growing the ass but losing volume elsewhere would be a problem.

They were especially sensitive about chest size—specifically the pecs. At first, Jiwon thought maybe they were only focused on glutes since no one mentioned his chest, but apparently that was a baseline requirement. Thighs, too, were non-negotiable.

Just listening to the list was exhausting.

Alongside the overzealous blue mask and the cheerful Wild Dog 3, Jiwon began with squats.

Ever done squats in a T-back thong? How about lunges?

It was humiliating.

A T-back wasn’t really underwear—it was more like a decorative pouch for your junk. Every time he lowered or raised his hips, the string running down his ass crack would tighten and loosen again. The sensation was bizarrely intense, almost arousing.

Jesus, he thought. Am I turning into a pervert?

And of course, right on cue, he noticed Wild Dog 3’s dick swelling under the fabric.

Fuck’s sake. Can we not?

Jiwon pretended not to see it and focused harder on his workout.

Thankfully, even though the T-back felt risky, it was surprisingly secure. No matter how hard they moved, nothing slipped out. The support and elasticity were almost impressive.

The trainer didn’t care in the slightest that Wild Dog 3 was clearly getting hard. He was focused entirely on whether the reps were clean, the form correct.

Jiwon executed each movement properly. Wild Dog 3, on the other hand, was slowing down. His face flushed red. Then, finally, he crouched down and stopped altogether.

Looking up at the trainer with desperate eyes, he whispered:

“...I think I’m gonna cum.”

His body trembled.

You’ve gotta be kidding me.

Jiwon let out a heavy sigh.

“If you cum, you get a five-point penalty.”

The trainer gave the warning in a flat, dry voice.

Since Wild Dog 3 had lost control, Jiwon had no choice but to pause his workout. He glanced around the training room to see how the others were doing.

It was fucking ridiculous. Erections weren’t even the problem anymore.

A room full of sweaty twenty-something men, wearing nothing but T-backs—basically naked—were showing off their ripped bodies as they lifted and pulled gym equipment. They groaned loudly while pushing weights heavier than their own bodies. A few of them were so drenched in sweat their muscles gleamed under the lights.

You couldn’t have asked for a better jerk-off show for the navy suits watching.

Just standing there watching must’ve felt like a fucking orgasm.

At this rate, they’d probably have VIP seating installed for the guests in two weeks.

Eventually, the muzzled bastard working out next to Jiwon started trembling like he’d been electrocuted, then wrapped a towel around his cock.

The trainer immediately walked over to check if he had ejaculated. Then he turned and shouted to Wild Dog 3’s team leader.

“Wild Dog 3! Ejaculated! Five-point penalty!”

Loud enough for everyone to hear.

The room fell silent for a beat—and then burst into laughter. Some guys openly laughed and jeered. Some looked worried, like they knew they weren’t far behind. Others didn’t give a shit and kept working out like nothing happened.

As for Jiwon—he just did his own thing.

He wasn’t the type to get rock hard just from a tight piece of string wedged up his ass.

Wild Dog 3 got kicked out of the gym, leaving Jiwon to suffer through one-on-one training with the overly motivated trainer. Sweat dripped from his chin.

But Wild Dog 3 was just the beginning. As time went on, “Ejaculated! Five-point penalty!” rang out again and again, and more guys started getting kicked out one by one.

And that wasn’t even the worst of it. The ones who didn’t cum but hit a full dry orgasm stayed in the gym—panting, moaning, practically fucking the air.

This wasn’t a gym anymore. It was a fucking porn set.

Jiwon gritted his teeth and kept working out like a demon. He didn’t dare glance at anyone else.

By the time his body couldn’t even lift a fucking chopstick, break time was finally announced.

Going this hard on an empty stomach’s gonna kill me.

Jiwon felt like he might pass out. He grabbed a water bottle and chugged it.

“Booster.”

The trainer handed him a pill.

Jiwon shook his head.

Like hell he was taking a pill without knowing what it was.

“I’m already on painkillers,” he said as an excuse.

“It’s fine. They’re compatible. It’s a safe supplement. Take it.”

The trainer held it out again.

“It’s mandatory.”

What the fuck was he supposed to say to that?

Fuck. Jiwon swallowed the pill with the rest of his water, biting down his curses.

After a short break, the workout resumed. When he grabbed the bar for chest exercises, his right arm couldn’t support the weight, so they switched him to dumbbells.

The trainer kept a close eye on him, making sure not to strain his shoulder or arm too much. Apparently, the guy was a licensed physical therapist. “If you don’t work out because it hurts, it’ll only get worse,” he said.

Yeah? And what the fuck am I supposed to do if it hurts anyway?

Jiwon groaned in pain, cold sweat soaking his back, his jaw clenched tight.

The air in the gym was thick with panting and moaning. The heat from their bodies turned the place into a furnace.

The ones who managed to hold back from cumming found other ways to deal with it. They rubbed up against each other, deliberately sweaty, groaning like they were in heat. Some wiped each other down with towels, ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ eye-fucking each other the whole time. Some licked their lips.

Everyone was fucking horny out of their minds.

If management hadn’t banned crew-on-crew sex and masturbation, this place would’ve turned into a fucking orgy pit.

That insane sex drive turned out to be the best booster of all. They could’ve gone three, four, maybe even twelve hours, and still kept going.

Thank god the workout ended on schedule.

After nearly two hours of fasted training, including cardio, Jiwon was barely holding himself upright, gripping a Smith machine as he panted. He wanted to just drop to the floor. The others didn’t even seem tired. They were busy flexing their pumped-up muscles and joking around.

Must be fucking nice.

Jiwon scowled and drank more water.

The team leaders clearly didn’t want to see their crews resting. They barked orders for showers.

Underwear off, into the basket at the entrance.

Towels only available after showering, in the lounge.

Those were the gym rules.

The moment Jiwon heard the thing about the towel, the curses came up in his throat.

So this is it. Time to show everyone my fucked-up dick.

He had to pull himself together.

It was time to publicly expose the wreck that was his dick. No matter how much he tried to steel himself, the dread of being labeled the weak one pounded through his skull.

His legs were shaking from all the lower-body work. He was basically leaning against the locker until it was his turn. Right before entering the showers, he pulled off the soaked T-back and tossed it in the basket. So far, nobody had seen his crotch.

He stepped into the shower and blasted cold water. His body, burning hot, finally started to cool. The soap and shampoo smelled surprisingly good. After all that sweat, it felt damn good. The scent added a clean, sharp edge to the relief.

And then—the moment of truth.

Dripping wet, Jiwon stepped out of the showers and walked into the lounge. The padded floor soaked up every drop of water that fell from him.

He only had a second to notice the floor before the reactions hit.

Stares like they’d seen a car crash. Whispers filled with disgust.

Park Gunwoo and Son Gunwoo, already out and drying off, both raised their eyebrows nearly in sync. They stared straight at Jiwon’s crotch, unashamed.

Other eyes followed. Some glanced again. Some said it outright—“What the fuck is that?” The most common word: disgusting.

“Can it even get hard?”

“No way, man.”

“Why the fuck would they pick someone like that?”

“Fuck. That’s nasty.”

“Who knows? Maybe he’s got some special little skill.”

“Oh my god. Does he have two holes or something?”

They mocked. They rated. Like he was a broken sex toy on display.

Jiwon felt his face catch fire. He grabbed a towel, covered his crotch, tied it around his waist, and started drying off. His hands were shaking.

“You fuckers got a show or something? Talking all that shit like you’ve got monster cocks yourselves.”

Park Gunwoo snapped on his behalf. Jiwon was grateful.

“It doesn’t even get hard, does it? So he’s just a bottom, huh?”

Unlike Park Gunwoo, Son Gunwoo asked excitedly—like that was the outcome he was hoping for.

This motherfucker...

Jiwon glared at him, wanting to say: It gets hard. It fucking works just fine. That it looked fucked up, sure, but functionally, it was no different.

But he kept his mouth shut.

He just wanted to get out of there.

Still burning under a dozen stares, he made his way to his locker.

“No underwear allowed.”

Park Gunwoo had followed him somehow, muttering, “Fucking provocative,” as he opened his own locker.

Didn’t matter anyway. That T-back didn’t cover shit. Jiwon threw on his clothes as fast as he could and reached for the scarf ring.

“I’m starving to fucking death,” came a voice right behind his head.