The Tyrant's Secret fetish-Chapter 49

Ye Jun

I hissed through my teeth as he worked, dabbing carefully, then pressing firmer. It hurt like hell at first hot water on raw skin but after a minute the heat started to ease the worst of the ache. He was slow about it, almost careful, switching to a fresh part of the cloth every few seconds.

"You’re such an asshole," I muttered, voice thick with tears and snot.

"Yeah," he said. No argument. "I got carried away."

"That’s not an apology."

"I know."

I sniffled, hating how pathetic I sounded. "You’re supposed to say sorry."

He paused, cloth hovering. "Sorry?."

It came out flat, but he said it.

"You’ll never hear me say that." Just like I thought.

And then he kept cleaning me up—gentle wipes over my thighs where the handprints still burned red, then back to my hole, checking the damage like he actually gave a shit.

When he finally finished he tossed the cloth aside, grabbed some lotion from the nightstand when did he even buy that? and rubbed it in slow circles. I flinched again but didn’t fight. The cool cream felt good after the heat. Too good. I hated that too.

He uncuffed me last. My wrists were pink, sore. He rubbed them without asking, thumbs pressing into the marks.

I pulled away fast, rolled onto my side still couldn’t sit and curled up facing the wall. "Don’t touch me ever again. ."

He sighed again. "You hungry?"

"No."

"I’m making breakfast anyway. Eggs. Toast. No meat, your ass can’t handle grease right now."

I snorted despite myself....wet, ugly laugh-sob. "My ass can’t handle you, period."

He stood up. "Fair. Still making food."

He left again. I stayed there curled up, wiping my face on the sheet, trying to breathe normal. My head hurt. My heart hurt. Everything hurt.

When he came back with a tray, like a tray tray, like we were in a hotel, I didn’t move.

"Eat," he said, setting it on the nightstand.

"I said no."

"You’re shaking. Eat something or I’ll spoon-feed you like a baby."

I shot him a glare over my shoulder. "Try it and I’ll bite your fingers off."

He smirked just a little and left the food there anyway.

I waited until he was gone before I dragged myself up enough to grab the toast. Dry. Plain. Tasted like cardboard. I ate it anyway because my stomach was growling and I hated admitting he was right about anything.

My phone buzzed on the floor. Titi.

I answered on speaker, voice wrecked. "What."

"Yo, spill. How’d last night go? You still alive or did Si-woo finally murder that ass?"

I laughed sharp, bitter. "He tried."

Silence. Then, "Wait. You sound like shit. What happened?"

I told her everything. The teasing all day, the way he snapped, the spanking until I couldn’t sit, the fucking until I blacked out for a second, waking up cuffed and crying thinking he was gonna go again. The hot water. The lotion. The breakfast I didn’t want but ate anyway.

She was quiet through most of it. When I finished she whistled low. "Jesus. He’s actually disgusting."

"Right?"

"Like... disgusting-hot disgusting, though."

I groaned. "Titi."

"What? I’m allowed to say it. Man’s got issues but he’s committed. That’s kinda hot in a fucked-up way."

"You’re the worst friend ever."

She laughed. "Come over. I’m ordering pork. You need real food and I need details in person."

"My ass hurts so bad I can barely walk."

"Even better. I’ll rub it for you. With ice. Or my evil little hands."

"You’re gross."

"You love me. Get here."

I hung up, stared at the ceiling for a minute, then forced myself to stand. Legs wobbly. Ass on fire with every step. But I could walk. Barely.

I limped out of the apartment without looking back at Si-woo’s door. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t even glance at the kitchen where I knew he was probably standing, pretending not to watch me leave.

Titi’s place was only fifteen minutes by foot but it felt like an hour. Every step sent a fresh stab through me. People stared. I stared back like "what the fuck are you looking at" until they looked away.

When I finally got there she opened the door before I even knocked, took one look at my face, and pulled me inside.

"Jesus, you look like you got hit by a truck."

"Feels like it."

She hugged me careful, no ass contact and steered me to the couch. I tried to sit. Failed. Ended up lying on my stomach across her lap like a kid getting a spanking. Ironic.

She poked my cheek. "Talk."

I did. Again. She listened, cackling at the worst parts, then got serious when I got to the crying part.

"He cuffed you when you were already wrecked?"

"Yeah."

"That’s... not okay."

"I know." 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

She rubbed slow circles on my back. "But he cleaned you up after?"

"Yeah."

"Mixed signals much?"

"Understatement."

Her phone dinged. Delivery. Pork. Soju.

She grinned. "Food’s here. You still eating?"

"Hell yes. I’m done listening to him tell me what’s good for my ass."

We ate on the floor because fuck sitting. Greasy pork, kimchi, cold soju straight from the bottle. I drank too fast. She matched me. We got loud, laughing at how pathetic I looked limping, how Si-woo probably jerked off in the shower thinking about my tears, how I was gonna ghost him forever starting today.

"Revenge?" she asked, waggling her eyebrows.

"Nah." I took another swig. "I’m just gonna live my life. Normal. Boring. No more stepbrother bullshit."

She snorted. "Good luck with that."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

She leaned in, evil smile. "You’re a bottom who just ate half a pig and drank half a bottle of soju. Your ass is gonna revolt in about twenty minutes. And when it does? You’re gonna wish you had Si-woo’s freak hands to fix it."

I threw a piece of pork at her. "Shut up."

She dodged, laughing. "I’m just saying. Normal doesn’t come easy when your hole’s been through world war three and you’re still walking around like you got a second heartbeat back there."

I groaned, flopped onto my stomach again. "I hate everything."

"Love you too."

We drank more. Laughed more. She kept teasing poking my ass lightly just to hear me yelp until I threatened to piss on her couch if she didn’t stop.

Eventually the soju hit hard. My head spun. My ass still hurt but the pain was duller now, fuzzy around the edges. I checked the time.

"I should go home."

She raised an eyebrow. "You sure? You can crash here."

"Nah. I need my own bed. And I need to not see his face for at least twelve hours."

She helped me up. Hugged me again. "Text me when you get there. And if he tries anything...."

"I’ll knee him in the balls."

"That’s my boy."

The walk home sucked worse the second time. Soju made me wobbly. Pork made my stomach gurgle in warning. Every step reminded me why bottoms shouldn’t eat like that after getting railed into next week. Why the fuck did I even have to be a bottom.

I got to the door, fumbled my keys, pushed inside.

The mansion was quiet. Lights low.

Si-woo was on the couch, phone in hand, looking up the second I walked in.

Our eyes met.

I froze.

He didn’t say anything. Just watched me limp past him toward my room.

I wanted to snap something sarcastic. Something cutting. Something that would hurt him back.

But my throat closed up. The tears threatened again different this time. Tired. Done.

I just kept walking.

Shut my door.

Locked it.

Collapsed face-down on my bed.

And tried really tried to believe that me being normal was still possible.

Little did I know the pork was already plotting its revenge.

And Si-woo?

He wasn’t done either.

Not even close.