Bring me Junsu - The new slave - 2/5
Title: Bring me Junsu
Pairings: Yoosu, mentions of JaeMinHo
Rating: R
Genre: very inaccurate historical, like Joseon K-drama style
Lenght: I never know, sorry. Another small story arc.
Warnings: forced consent (read rape), humiliation, verbal abuse and violence, very mean nasty Yoochun, not fluffy at all
Summary: King Yoochun is furious with his Queen and wants to give out punishment. When he yells at his guards to bring him Junsu they simply run off to obey their King. And now that Junsu is only a slave, he is even more powerless than before.
Bring me Junsu! - King Yoochun yells.,
On your hands and knees! - Ordered King Yoochun.,
He’s to be a palace slave from now on. - Ordered the King., ...
Bring me Junsu. Have him wait for me in my chambers. Tell him I personally ordered him to stay on his knees, forehead on the floor, until I arrive. No matter how long he has to wait. Understood?,
Note: This is Junsu's account of his month as a palace kitchen slave. Have tissues ready.
My body is complaining. I’m tired and hungry, my head hurts, my knees hurt and my ass feels uncomfortable. The slave robes are rough and make my skin hitch. Yet there is nothing I can do but silently follow Yunho to my new destiny.
This morning I woke up a noble, a member of King Yoochun’s council and mostly a man that blended into the background. No one took notice of me which also meant no one bothered me. At least I thought no one took notice of me. As it turns out, one person did. The last person that should. The Queen for some reason decided she liked me and thought it would be a good idea to confess. Just my luck that not only the King but a high number of nobles happened to hear her confession.
I wonder what someone else would have done in my situation. Would they have been able to escape?
And now here I am. Humiliated and broken. I clang to my life so desperately that I even agreed to let the King use my body in exchange for my life. To my utter shame I even prepared myself for him. I managed to hold my tears and pleas in the end but I just want some corner to hide. The only thing still holding me up is that no one else was in that room when he did that to me.
No one ever needs to know what happened. I hope no one ever finds out.
…
The kitchen has a large staff and the rooms assigned to the kitchen slaves are clean, which is a relief. There are extra beds for when extra staff is needed, again all clean, and all the rooms are shared except for the man in charge of the kitchen, he gets his own room. He seems to be a harsh man, barking orders to everyone. He pays me no attention, simply allowing another slave to assign me tasks.
That’s how I find myself washing dishes, cutting vegetables and doing a bunch of other menial tasks around the kitchen. It’s hard work. I’m exhausted easily but it’s not as difficult as I feared. I have a warm bed to sleep at night, decent warm food at regular hours and enough work to keep myself occupied.
The other slaves try to get information on who I am. Apparently they can tell I have higher education. I try my best to keep to myself. That’s not hard. I’ve done that my entire life. I had practically no friends growing up and I only grew more alone since I moved to the palace. So that feels no different. I can only hope that soon they get over their curiosity for the new slave.
…
I don’t know how.
Maybe one of the guards. It has to have been one of the guards. The guards were the only ones present when I said I was gay, the only ones who could have repeated that to other ears.
Other than slaves from other areas of the palace it was only the guards that sometimes came into the kitchen. One must have recognized me.
Soon everyone knew I was a noble until the day I entered the kitchen as a slave. They also knew that I was the man that had caused a scandal involving the Queen. Worst was when everyone started to talk behind my back about my confession on being gay, about how that might be related to how I had managed to escape with my life.
By now, they all knew I would not answer their questions but that only seemed to fuel their speculation even more.
I feared for my life when they began making bets on whether I had fucked the King or if the King had fucked me.
It hurt me how close to the truth they were. It also made me jump at odd times. Being gay was punishable by death, only the King's guards were safe from that sentence. And I couldn’t exactly say that I wasn’t gay because then they would simply say I had fucked the Queen.
I have no idea what I did in my past life but it must have been something really bad. Makes me wish I can come back as a simple wild animal in my next life. Sounds like it might be an improvement.
…
Things are getting worse. Since the kitchen chief heard the rumours he always choses me for the hardest tasks. Things that he usually would have two or more people doing, he demands that I do alone and in the same amount of time.
I was sent to a separate room. No bed. Nothing to cover myself at night except for my own clothes which are becoming more and more threadbare. I have only one set of clothes to change into when what I’m wearing becomes too dirty and I need to wash it. I sleep with both sets of clothes to try and keep warm but it helps very little. The chief chose the room well. The roof is in need of repair and I know that when rain season arrives, I will be soaked. I don’t even dare think about snow.
I am not allowed to interrupt my tasks when it’s meal time. If I’m done, I can grab something to eat before he notices it and orders me to do some other task. But often, he makes sure that I am never done at meal time. It’s only when he’s not around that I dare eat at the proper times. The other slaves don’t dare help me but they don’t tell on me either, which is the only kindness I received so far.
What puzzles me is that none of the other slaves are treated this way. King Yoochun’s orders regarding slaves are very specific. In fact, he even has staff in charge of making sure that those orders are obeyed.
I waited anxiously until inspection day. It was my only hope of salvation.
…
The inspector noticed my state, my clothes, the room I was given, the condition of my body, everything. Even the bruises from when my chief thinks I’m being too slow on purpose.
I saw him write everything down.
I can’t explain my relief. I remember how those reports reached the council meetings and how King Yoochun always sent back orders for slaves to be treated in a way to ensure long years of work, not just a few months.
That night I endured washing plates with freezing cold water, my hands trembling. I went to sleep on a nearly empty stomach, my hunger only appeased because I had hidden some vegetable peels in my room. I shivered with cold but I was warmed with hope.
I did not mind being a slave if it was like it had been in the first week but like this? Like this I was sure I would not last long.
…
Next day came and went.
Another day followed.
No order from above arrived about how the kitchen chief was treating one of the slaves.
That made me wonder if I had been naïve. The man had not seem worried that the inspector had seen my condition. The inspector had made no comment.
And King Yoochun had read the report and said nothing.
I knew for any other slave he would have said something. Just not for me it seems.
A clear memory hit me then. King Yoochun turning to the Queen and saying “Relax, my Queen. I will not kill you. Or him. But rest assured you will never see him again. I can almost promise you that both of you will wish I had killed you.”
So this is what he meant?
I had always conserved a certain amount of ideals even knowing the world around was not usually kind. I admit I even admired the King for many things. It hurt to see another proof of my childish admiration proven so cruelly wrong.
…
I’m so tired.
If I was stronger I think I would take my own life. But I think I won’t have to bother. I’m sure I won’t survive the Winter.
My hands are full of blisters from having to wash everything in cold water. The few other slaves I see washing anything are allowed to use warm water. Some days I think that my hands don’t stay dry for more than an hour before I’m being ordered some other task that involves getting wet.
My feet are almost in a similar condition. Guess what? I’m still using the same shoes as day one while everyone else has been given more appropriate shoes for the cold weather that has arrived this last week.
I have spots that are permanently bruised now. Because I’m not allowed enough sleep or food, I’m so constantly tired that I can’t do my tasks properly. Which of course, means I keep getting punched or kicked around by the chief.
I don’t remember why I chose to live. I should have just let King Yoochun kill me. It would have been more mercifully.
He should have explained better what he had in store for me. I’d have chosen death.
…
I think I’m going to cry.
I have been able to not cry in front of anyone so far but this time I think I can’t hold it anymore. I’m going to cry.
The chief has ordered me to wash an insane amount of pans and dishes from some fancy lunch the council had. He waited until it was getting dark and colder. He waited until more stuff had accumulated. He waited until I’m ready to pass out.
The skin on my hands is so badly bruised by now that it bleeds easily. How can I wash all of that?
Besides, it’s raining. And he wants me to wash all of that outside. Even when I return to my room it will be wet because of the roof. My spare clothes are still wet from washing them last night so I won’t even be able to change clothes.
What do I do?
What?
Can someone please help me?
Anyone?
I don’t even ask much. Just let me sleep or at least let me rest someplace dry and warm. Some moments of rest where everything is dry and warm and I don’t have to touch water.
Please?
…
Jaejoong arrives in the kitchen and asks to speak with the chief. They point him to a corner. The man is apparently giving some slave a few orders. The Captain ignores the slave and addresses the chief.
-I’m here to pick up Junsu.
-What?
-Junsu, the new slave. He was sent here about a month ago. Call him.
Behind Jaejoong, Junsu lifted his eyes not daring to believe his ears. The kitchen chief looked puzzled for a moment, unsure of what to do. The Captain grew impatient.
-King Yoochun himself told me take Junsu to see him. Are you going to stand on the way of a direct order from the King?
-N-no, no. Of course not. He’s right behind you.
Jaejoong turned immediately and searched the room, ignoring the skinny man to his left side. Annoyed, he yelled for the elusive slave.
-Junsu!
Junsu finally woke up from his trance. He had a suspicion of what the King might want with him and he feared it. But… But he would be away for maybe a few hours, and wherever the King was it would certainly be warm and dry. He didn’t really care if the King was calling him to use his body like a month ago. Right now, he was so desperate that he could only pray that the King would use him for the entire night, just long enough that someone else would have to wash all of that before he had to return to the kitchen. Whatever pain the King could cause him had to hurt less than what he had endured the last days. And maybe it was his lucky day and the King was only calling him to have him killed.
-H-here.
Jaejoong froze at the half whisper coming from the skinny dirty slave. It was not the kind of sight he had gotten used to seeing in the palace since Yoochun was king. All the slaves were well treated and the King had people specially in charge of making sure of that. The King read those reports himself. However, Junsu was nearly unrecognizable.
The Captain felt sorry for the fallen noble. The man had done nothing to deserve such harsh treatment. He still remembered reading the man’s insightful notes. It was such a pity in his opinion. Junsu could have been a great counsellor.
With a sigh, Jaejoong turned and left the kitchen with Junsu following close behind. He had his orders. However, he would certainly find the time to talk to the King about this. If Junsu was to be a slave, he should be treated like any other slave. How could Yoochun order or allow for Junsu to be treated so poorly?
…
Junsu felt like he was in heaven, especially after the last two weeks.
The first week as a slave hadn’t been so bad but that was almost a distant memory. And as for his life as a noble, that was unreal. However, being inside the King’s room was bliss. It was so warm.
His bones shivered. It was strange being in a warm place after suffering from cold for so long. He knew his body would take a long time to warm up, but he just waited. The room was so warm that he felt like he could sleep on the spot. Even uncomfortably kneeling with his head on the floor.
Actually he had to lift his head and keep it lifted. He had nearly dozed off.
The King would be angry if he fell asleep.
Doing nothing. It was so good. His bones wanted to melt away.
Junsu’s head started to get heavy.
The man fought it, however, after half an hour of waiting for the King, his tired body gave up on him and he feel asleep, still kneeling, and his head leaning against the bed pole. His last conscious thought was about the room temperature and not having to put his hands in cold water. That thought left a faint smile on his lips.
…
......................................................
Next chapter:
He seriously doubted the King could be gentle while taking him or even knew how to be.
King Yoochun was angry about Junsu falling asleep and disobeying his direct orders. But he got even angrier with something else. What?
Pairings: Yoosu, mentions of JaeMinHo
Rating: R
Genre: very inaccurate historical, like Joseon K-drama style
Lenght: I never know, sorry. Another small story arc.
Warnings: forced consent (read rape), humiliation, verbal abuse and violence, very mean nasty Yoochun, not fluffy at all
Summary: King Yoochun is furious with his Queen and wants to give out punishment. When he yells at his guards to bring him Junsu they simply run off to obey their King. And now that Junsu is only a slave, he is even more powerless than before.
Bring me Junsu! - King Yoochun yells.,
On your hands and knees! - Ordered King Yoochun.,
He’s to be a palace slave from now on. - Ordered the King., ...
Bring me Junsu. Have him wait for me in my chambers. Tell him I personally ordered him to stay on his knees, forehead on the floor, until I arrive. No matter how long he has to wait. Understood?,
Note: This is Junsu's account of his month as a palace kitchen slave. Have tissues ready.
My body is complaining. I’m tired and hungry, my head hurts, my knees hurt and my ass feels uncomfortable. The slave robes are rough and make my skin hitch. Yet there is nothing I can do but silently follow Yunho to my new destiny.
This morning I woke up a noble, a member of King Yoochun’s council and mostly a man that blended into the background. No one took notice of me which also meant no one bothered me. At least I thought no one took notice of me. As it turns out, one person did. The last person that should. The Queen for some reason decided she liked me and thought it would be a good idea to confess. Just my luck that not only the King but a high number of nobles happened to hear her confession.
I wonder what someone else would have done in my situation. Would they have been able to escape?
And now here I am. Humiliated and broken. I clang to my life so desperately that I even agreed to let the King use my body in exchange for my life. To my utter shame I even prepared myself for him. I managed to hold my tears and pleas in the end but I just want some corner to hide. The only thing still holding me up is that no one else was in that room when he did that to me.
No one ever needs to know what happened. I hope no one ever finds out.
…
The kitchen has a large staff and the rooms assigned to the kitchen slaves are clean, which is a relief. There are extra beds for when extra staff is needed, again all clean, and all the rooms are shared except for the man in charge of the kitchen, he gets his own room. He seems to be a harsh man, barking orders to everyone. He pays me no attention, simply allowing another slave to assign me tasks.
That’s how I find myself washing dishes, cutting vegetables and doing a bunch of other menial tasks around the kitchen. It’s hard work. I’m exhausted easily but it’s not as difficult as I feared. I have a warm bed to sleep at night, decent warm food at regular hours and enough work to keep myself occupied.
The other slaves try to get information on who I am. Apparently they can tell I have higher education. I try my best to keep to myself. That’s not hard. I’ve done that my entire life. I had practically no friends growing up and I only grew more alone since I moved to the palace. So that feels no different. I can only hope that soon they get over their curiosity for the new slave.
…
I don’t know how.
Maybe one of the guards. It has to have been one of the guards. The guards were the only ones present when I said I was gay, the only ones who could have repeated that to other ears.
Other than slaves from other areas of the palace it was only the guards that sometimes came into the kitchen. One must have recognized me.
Soon everyone knew I was a noble until the day I entered the kitchen as a slave. They also knew that I was the man that had caused a scandal involving the Queen. Worst was when everyone started to talk behind my back about my confession on being gay, about how that might be related to how I had managed to escape with my life.
By now, they all knew I would not answer their questions but that only seemed to fuel their speculation even more.
I feared for my life when they began making bets on whether I had fucked the King or if the King had fucked me.
It hurt me how close to the truth they were. It also made me jump at odd times. Being gay was punishable by death, only the King's guards were safe from that sentence. And I couldn’t exactly say that I wasn’t gay because then they would simply say I had fucked the Queen.
I have no idea what I did in my past life but it must have been something really bad. Makes me wish I can come back as a simple wild animal in my next life. Sounds like it might be an improvement.
…
Things are getting worse. Since the kitchen chief heard the rumours he always choses me for the hardest tasks. Things that he usually would have two or more people doing, he demands that I do alone and in the same amount of time.
I was sent to a separate room. No bed. Nothing to cover myself at night except for my own clothes which are becoming more and more threadbare. I have only one set of clothes to change into when what I’m wearing becomes too dirty and I need to wash it. I sleep with both sets of clothes to try and keep warm but it helps very little. The chief chose the room well. The roof is in need of repair and I know that when rain season arrives, I will be soaked. I don’t even dare think about snow.
I am not allowed to interrupt my tasks when it’s meal time. If I’m done, I can grab something to eat before he notices it and orders me to do some other task. But often, he makes sure that I am never done at meal time. It’s only when he’s not around that I dare eat at the proper times. The other slaves don’t dare help me but they don’t tell on me either, which is the only kindness I received so far.
What puzzles me is that none of the other slaves are treated this way. King Yoochun’s orders regarding slaves are very specific. In fact, he even has staff in charge of making sure that those orders are obeyed.
I waited anxiously until inspection day. It was my only hope of salvation.
…
The inspector noticed my state, my clothes, the room I was given, the condition of my body, everything. Even the bruises from when my chief thinks I’m being too slow on purpose.
I saw him write everything down.
I can’t explain my relief. I remember how those reports reached the council meetings and how King Yoochun always sent back orders for slaves to be treated in a way to ensure long years of work, not just a few months.
That night I endured washing plates with freezing cold water, my hands trembling. I went to sleep on a nearly empty stomach, my hunger only appeased because I had hidden some vegetable peels in my room. I shivered with cold but I was warmed with hope.
I did not mind being a slave if it was like it had been in the first week but like this? Like this I was sure I would not last long.
…
Next day came and went.
Another day followed.
No order from above arrived about how the kitchen chief was treating one of the slaves.
That made me wonder if I had been naïve. The man had not seem worried that the inspector had seen my condition. The inspector had made no comment.
And King Yoochun had read the report and said nothing.
I knew for any other slave he would have said something. Just not for me it seems.
A clear memory hit me then. King Yoochun turning to the Queen and saying “Relax, my Queen. I will not kill you. Or him. But rest assured you will never see him again. I can almost promise you that both of you will wish I had killed you.”
So this is what he meant?
I had always conserved a certain amount of ideals even knowing the world around was not usually kind. I admit I even admired the King for many things. It hurt to see another proof of my childish admiration proven so cruelly wrong.
…
I’m so tired.
If I was stronger I think I would take my own life. But I think I won’t have to bother. I’m sure I won’t survive the Winter.
My hands are full of blisters from having to wash everything in cold water. The few other slaves I see washing anything are allowed to use warm water. Some days I think that my hands don’t stay dry for more than an hour before I’m being ordered some other task that involves getting wet.
My feet are almost in a similar condition. Guess what? I’m still using the same shoes as day one while everyone else has been given more appropriate shoes for the cold weather that has arrived this last week.
I have spots that are permanently bruised now. Because I’m not allowed enough sleep or food, I’m so constantly tired that I can’t do my tasks properly. Which of course, means I keep getting punched or kicked around by the chief.
I don’t remember why I chose to live. I should have just let King Yoochun kill me. It would have been more mercifully.
He should have explained better what he had in store for me. I’d have chosen death.
…
I think I’m going to cry.
I have been able to not cry in front of anyone so far but this time I think I can’t hold it anymore. I’m going to cry.
The chief has ordered me to wash an insane amount of pans and dishes from some fancy lunch the council had. He waited until it was getting dark and colder. He waited until more stuff had accumulated. He waited until I’m ready to pass out.
The skin on my hands is so badly bruised by now that it bleeds easily. How can I wash all of that?
Besides, it’s raining. And he wants me to wash all of that outside. Even when I return to my room it will be wet because of the roof. My spare clothes are still wet from washing them last night so I won’t even be able to change clothes.
What do I do?
What?
Can someone please help me?
Anyone?
I don’t even ask much. Just let me sleep or at least let me rest someplace dry and warm. Some moments of rest where everything is dry and warm and I don’t have to touch water.
Please?
…
Jaejoong arrives in the kitchen and asks to speak with the chief. They point him to a corner. The man is apparently giving some slave a few orders. The Captain ignores the slave and addresses the chief.
-I’m here to pick up Junsu.
-What?
-Junsu, the new slave. He was sent here about a month ago. Call him.
Behind Jaejoong, Junsu lifted his eyes not daring to believe his ears. The kitchen chief looked puzzled for a moment, unsure of what to do. The Captain grew impatient.
-King Yoochun himself told me take Junsu to see him. Are you going to stand on the way of a direct order from the King?
-N-no, no. Of course not. He’s right behind you.
Jaejoong turned immediately and searched the room, ignoring the skinny man to his left side. Annoyed, he yelled for the elusive slave.
-Junsu!
Junsu finally woke up from his trance. He had a suspicion of what the King might want with him and he feared it. But… But he would be away for maybe a few hours, and wherever the King was it would certainly be warm and dry. He didn’t really care if the King was calling him to use his body like a month ago. Right now, he was so desperate that he could only pray that the King would use him for the entire night, just long enough that someone else would have to wash all of that before he had to return to the kitchen. Whatever pain the King could cause him had to hurt less than what he had endured the last days. And maybe it was his lucky day and the King was only calling him to have him killed.
-H-here.
Jaejoong froze at the half whisper coming from the skinny dirty slave. It was not the kind of sight he had gotten used to seeing in the palace since Yoochun was king. All the slaves were well treated and the King had people specially in charge of making sure of that. The King read those reports himself. However, Junsu was nearly unrecognizable.
The Captain felt sorry for the fallen noble. The man had done nothing to deserve such harsh treatment. He still remembered reading the man’s insightful notes. It was such a pity in his opinion. Junsu could have been a great counsellor.
With a sigh, Jaejoong turned and left the kitchen with Junsu following close behind. He had his orders. However, he would certainly find the time to talk to the King about this. If Junsu was to be a slave, he should be treated like any other slave. How could Yoochun order or allow for Junsu to be treated so poorly?
…
Junsu felt like he was in heaven, especially after the last two weeks.
The first week as a slave hadn’t been so bad but that was almost a distant memory. And as for his life as a noble, that was unreal. However, being inside the King’s room was bliss. It was so warm.
His bones shivered. It was strange being in a warm place after suffering from cold for so long. He knew his body would take a long time to warm up, but he just waited. The room was so warm that he felt like he could sleep on the spot. Even uncomfortably kneeling with his head on the floor.
Actually he had to lift his head and keep it lifted. He had nearly dozed off.
The King would be angry if he fell asleep.
Doing nothing. It was so good. His bones wanted to melt away.
Junsu’s head started to get heavy.
The man fought it, however, after half an hour of waiting for the King, his tired body gave up on him and he feel asleep, still kneeling, and his head leaning against the bed pole. His last conscious thought was about the room temperature and not having to put his hands in cold water. That thought left a faint smile on his lips.
…
......................................................
Next chapter:
He seriously doubted the King could be gentle while taking him or even knew how to be.
King Yoochun was angry about Junsu falling asleep and disobeying his direct orders. But he got even angrier with something else. What?