Title: Owned 1/3
Rating: NC-17 fic contains rape, bondage, slavery, abuse, kidnapping, humiliation, masters, incest, watersports
Pairing: Yunho/Jaejoong, Changmin/Jaejoong, Yunho/Changmin/Jaejoong, OT5, Yoochun/Junsu/Junho (and implied others/Jaejoong),
Disclaimer: I don't own them.
Summary: Drugged, beaten and tied up with duct tape. Jaejoong has definitely had better days. But it could always be worse.
Warnings rape, bondage, slavery, abuse, kidnapping, humiliation, masters, incest, watersports, double penetration
Part 1:
Behind the Bit: a term used when a horse places his head down to evade contact with the bit
Warnings: rape, bondage, slavery, abuse, kidnapping, humiliation, masters, incest, watersports, double penetration
Inspired by:
and
Pain. Insurmountable pain. His skin was on fire. His chest was tight. Every breath shot more pain to his brain. Everything twisted and warped, even though he knew that he couldn’t actually see anything. Hard to see with your eyes shut.
Jaejoong opened his eyes to more pain and his vision blurred. His eyes shut immediately and the piercing throb dulled minutely. He tried to move and couldn’t. More pain lashed up his ribs, and his stretched arms.
His wrists stung the most, but he couldn’t move his hands. Or his feet. His body waved on the bed. His mouth stayed firmly shut.
Harsh breaths wheezed in and out of his nose.
He attempted to open his eyes again.
Nausea ran through his stomach, but he couldn’t open his mouth to puke. The ceiling above him rolled and folded in on itself. He tried to curl on his side, but again his arms and legs refused to move and pain shot up his spine.
Jaejoong screamed, the noise muffled behind whatever was on his mouth. His lips wouldn’t even open. After recovering from that moment of pain, he turned his head, eyes focusing on his wrists. His arms were spread out to his sides and stretched above him. Whatever was around his wrists gleamed silver.
Duct tape.
On his ankles too.
And his mouth.
Jaejoong moaned and screamed again, tugging roughly on the strong ropes made of more duct tape. The ends were attached to the metal bed frame.
Uncontrollable panic rushed through him, and he screamed again, and again, trying to move, to free himself. The pain grew unbearable and Jaejoong stilled, breathing, trying not to cry.
Last night, what … last night.
All he could remember was his bedroom. Darkness. Figures moving in his room. Pain.
Calm down, just calm down. Panicking won’t help. Just … try to calm down. Don’t hurt yourself more.
Jaejoong chanted that in his mind until the pain dropped to bearable again.
Aware and coherent, Jaejoong took in his surroundings. The walls were gray, and there were no windows and only one heavy gray door. Below him was the most unforgiving futon he’d ever laid on. It felt more like rock than padding. Near the door was a single, dull lamp that threw pale light around the room. The only other thing in the room was a mirror. On the ceiling. And Jaejoong got a good look at himself staring back at him.
One of his eyes was almost swollen shut. His lip was bloody. Whatever happened to him had happened without his shirt, because his chest was bare. And on his side was a blue and purple blossoming bruise. No wonder his ribs hurt. He was in tattered sweat pants that he was sure he didn’t own, and a cursory twist showed that he wasn’t wearing anything under them. His arms were bruised too.
And right along the bend in his elbow was a red mark. From a needle. Had they shot him up with drugs? It made sense. The dizziness and nausea were key symptoms of being drugged.
But who did it? And where was he?
Part of him (the part not panicking like a little girl) wasn’t surprised. There’d been a lot of kidnappings in the higher society since Lee Sooman had taken over the government. His father, one of Lee Sooman’s representatives, had received more than one death threat and more than one threat against Jaejoong's life. He wondered what the kidnapers demands were, how much the ransom was for his life. His family didn’t have a lot of money, or at least not a lot of extra money.
Jaejoong shut his eyes and tried to have a little faith in his father and Lee Sooman.
The handle on the heavy metal door twisted, and Jaejoong’s eyes shot open. He stared at it as it opened, and two black-clad figures walked in. Light flickered off the metal studs imbedded in the arms and shoulders of their jackets.
Spikes. Jaejoong should have known.
“Ah, the pretty bitch is awake,” one of them said.
Jaejoong shut his eyes and sighed.
“It doesn’t seem like he wants to play anymore,” the other said.
“Do you blame him?”
“Not really.”
“Are we going to let him rest?”
“No way.”
Strong fingers curled around his ankle and had he been able, Jaejoong would have kicked him. His leg jerked anyway and he inhaled in pain.
The two men laughed.
The one not holding his ankle pulled out a knife that gleamed in the dim light.
Jaejoong tried to keep a lid on his panic, but alone, bound and obviously beat up made his fight-or-flight instinct kick in and he screamed behind the duct-tape gag and yanked his legs around. The one with the knife shoved the hilt into his bruised ribs and Jaejoong screamed and held still.
“See what happens when you don’t do what we want?” a deep voice whispered, breath trickling over his ear, down his neck.
Jaejoong shivered and the first tear fell from the corner of his eyes.
“It hurts, doesn’t it?” He dug the knife hilt into his ribs again, and Jaejoong nodded, whimpering. “Hold still.”
Jaejoong did not move, eyes shut tight.
The knife tore through the tape at his ankle, and Jaejoong fought his instinct to lash out. There wasn’t any way he would prevail against these two.
The firm grip tightened and lifted his leg. Jaejoong moaned at the ache in his muscles. A few seconds later, his leg was stretched and bent to the headboard. The harsh scratch of duct tape filled the room and his ankle was taped right to the metal frame practically above his head.
His leg muscles were screaming. He’d always been overly flexible and doing the splits wasn’t a problem, but like this, his hip felt like it was about to snap out of its socket.
The stretch didn’t last too long, and the men quickly cut through the tape at his other ankle and attached his leg to the headboard.
His eyes opened, and he stared at himself in the mirror. Jaejoong was bent in half.
The tip of the knife touched his ankle bone.
“Now would definitely be a good time for you to hold completely still.”
Jaejoong’s eyes widened as the man drew the knife down his leg. It snagged on the fabric of the sweats for only a moment and then they gave, ripping, parting, slicing, the sound loud in Jaejoong’s ears.
Pain tore up his leg, and he screamed.
“Oops. Sorry.”
Jaejoong whimpered, eyes shut again, and the other man chuckled. He didn’t want to watch, and lay there until the sweats had been cut from his body. The knife cut into his skin again and again.
“Look at how pretty you are,” one of them said and jabbed him in the ribs.
Jaejoong opened his eyes and panic flared in him again. He was naked, completely naked and his legs were bruised and cut, and blood dripped to the bed. He shut his eyes again.
The futon shifted around him, and hands ran softly up his arms and back down to his sensitive sides. He jerked, and then winced. The first touch of lips to his chest tore a whimper from his lips.
“One day, pretty rich bitch, you’re going to crave our touch.”
Jaejoong snorted. He couldn’t help it.
Both of them laughed, and one of them slapped his face.
Jaejoong kept his head turned to the side, eyes still shut until something warm and thick slid up and down the cleft of his ass. His eyes shot open and then widened as he watched one of them cover his dick with Jaejoong’s own blood. He’d taken none of his clothes off, just pulled his dick out of his zipper.
He shouted behind the gag and twisted, easier in this position, but also more painful. He screamed and whimpered and begged.
The man smirked. “And one of these days, I’m going to hear you say, please fuck me Yunho-master. I know that’s exactly what you’re saying right now.”
Jaejoong shook his head.
Yunho laughed and held his dick against Jaejoong’s body and thrust. Jaejoong screamed. He’d expected it to hurt, but it didn’t. He only felt full and tight. Maybe they’d fucked him while he was unconscious. Yunho stopped with his body pressed against Jaejoong’s. His hands gripped behind Jaejoong’s knees. He shifted, spreading his legs a bit and then pulled out and thrust back in.
Jaejoong whimpered, shut his eyes and did his best to relax. Fighting wasn’t going to stop it, and it’d only cause him more pain. Stubborn tears dropped from his eyes, and he cried while the two of them used him, over and over, for hours, until come mixed with the blood and dripped to the futon, staining it a deep red.
Before they left, they were nice enough to cut the duct-tape ropes at his wrists and ankles, tear the tape off his mouth and leave him a bottle of water. Jaejoong drank most of it and splashed on his face and hands in a vain attempt to calm himself down and refresh himself. He forwent the bed, since it was covered in his blood and their come, and he lay on the cold floor, curled up with the single pillow.
Jaejoong wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he was startled awake. Firm hands grabbed his arms and yanked them behind his bank. He cried out, eyes shut as everything that hurt exploded into fiery pain.
The ripping sound of duct tape filled the room again, and Jaejoong winced, trying not to struggle as his arms were bound behind his back.
Fingers tangled in his hair and yanked his head up. He winced, trying to focus on the man above him. It was the one from yesterday.
Changmin. his mind supplied.
Jaejoong licked his dry lips.
He smiled and held him there for a moment. Another set of hands gripped his ass, and he wasn’t surprised when a dick slid into his body.
Jaejoong whimpered.
The soft head of a cock pressed against his lips.
Jaejoong sucked his lips into his mouth and turned his head.
Changmin pulled his hair. “Open your mouth.”
Jaejoong shook his head.
“I can shove this knife in your face.”
Jaejoong whimpered.
Changmin's dick swiped over his lips again, and Jaejoong gasped, mouth opening. It took all of his self control not to slam his lips shut.
“Don’t you dare fucking bite me.”
Jaejoong nodded and shut his eyes. Changmin’s dick slipped into his mouth, and then out, the head on his lips again. Jaejoong took a deep breath and let his mouth fall open. Changmin made a pleased noise and pushed forward, and Jaejoong gagged around his dick. Changmin pulled back, just a little, and then thrust into his mouth, shallow, slow, and Jaejoong knew he was being nice, and part of him hated it. It would have been better if Changmin had thrust into him as harshly as Yunho was fucking him.
“As soon as your face heals up, you’re going to look pretty with a cock in your mouth,” Changmin said. “Be a good boy and do what we say so we don’t have to hurt you anymore.”
Jaejoong’s eyes shut and tears leaked from the corners again.
Those were his two options. Fight and be hurt, or give in and not be hurt.
Though he wondered what that meant. What they were doing to him now hurt pretty badly. His heart ached as well as his muscles. But what was the alternative to this? Broken bones? More cuts? Being punched? He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.
Jaejoong pulled his head back, cheeks flushing and turned away from Changmin’s cock.
Changmin tittered at him, but Jaejoong refused to lift his head, breath gasping.
Strong arms gripped his shoulders and pulled him up. The spikes from Yunho’s jacket dug into his hands and his back. Fingers twisted his nipples and Jaejoong cried out, head falling back to Yunho’s shoulder. More studs shot pain up the back of his neck. Jaejoong whimpered and twisted his hips. Yunho’s dick thrust in and out of him, slow and shallow. Long fingers curled around Jaejoong’s soft dick and fondled him.
Jaejoong shook his head. “No, no, no.”
Changmin stepped into him, gripped his hair again and pressed his dick to Jaejoong’s protesting lips.
“No?” Yunho whispered, licking his ear. “Doesn’t this feel good?”
Jaejoong shook his head. It hurt, god it hurt, but Yunho’s hand was soft on his cock and balls, tender where Changmin’s fingers were rough. His mouth opened in a moan as pleasure twisted through him. Changmin slipped his cock into Jaejoong’s mouth again.
Jaejoong swallowed and gagged in surprise, not expecting it, but he didn’t, couldn’t move away. Stuck between the two of them, he didn’t have much of a choice. Changmin’s cock pushed deeper into his throat, and Jaejoong cut off a sob and gagged, trying to relax. His body was reacting to Yunho's touches even if his mind wasn’t. It always felt good to have someone else’s hand on his dick.
Hands cupped his cheeks and pulled him forward. Yunho’s hands settled on his hips and steadied him. Jaejoong leaned forward, letting Changmin pull his head forward and back. Precome filled his mouth and he swallowed, jerking forward suddenly.
Changmin moaned, and his hands tangled in Jaejoong’s hair again.
Jaejoong’s eyes shut tightly as Yunho thrust a little harder, a little faster. His hand sped up on his cock too, and Jaejoong moaned.
“You’ll be our eager bitch soon enough,” Yunho whispered, teeth closing in on Jaejoong’s earlobe.
Jaejoong doubted that, but it was easier to give in than to get hurt. He let them do what they wanted. He swallowed Changmin’s release and licked up what dripped out of his mouth. He thrust back on Yunho’s cock.
After Jaejoong came, spraying his release all over Changmin’s thighs, body open and willing, his skin flushed with shame.
Fingers carded through his hair and yanked his head down, and Jaejoong licked up his mess like the good boy he was.
The orgasms blended together after that first one. Jaejoong wasn’t even sure what was going on anymore. His head was heavy with lust, his heart overwhelmed with shame. Sometimes they were both in the room, sometimes it was one or the other. Pain and pleasure twisted together.
--
They let him sleep only when they were through with him. Time disappeared. Days. Jaejoong had no way of knowing how many days went by. The only thing that let him know that it’d been too long was the gnawing in his stomach. Hunger. Thirst. They gave him water, but never enough.
Curled on the floor, Jaejoong shivered and tried to relax. He didn’t like being on the futon, and it wasn’t much more comfortable than the hard linoleum floor. The moments without the two of them in the room were few and far between. He didn’t flinch anymore when they touched him. He didn’t care when they kissed him.
Changmin entered the room just before Jaejoong had drifted off into a welcome sleep. He jerked alert. Something clinked on the floor.
“Come here, pretty pet,” Changmin said.
Jaejoong lifted his head to see where Changmin was. He was sitting on the futon. Jaejoong pushed up to his hands and knees and crawled over to him. Changmin’s fingers tangled in his hair and scratched his scalp.
Jaejoong shut his eyes. It almost felt good. Almost. He laid his head on Changmin’s thigh for only a moment before Changmin lifted his head. He held up a thick leather strap in his other hand. It was studded with spikes, like everything else, but these were smaller, and formed two words: “Spike Property”.
Jaejoong blushed and lowered his head.
Changmin laughed and put the collar around his neck; the metal clasp was cold against Jaejoong’s heated skin.
Changmin lifted his head and turned it side to side, looking at the collar. “It’s beautiful against your pale skin, Pretty.”
Jaejoong flushed.
Changmin lightly slapped his cheek and then pointed to the door. “Go eat.”
Jaejoong tilted his head and looked. Next to the door were two bowls. One was full of rice, the other was full of water. Biting his lip, Jaejoong crawled to the door. He reached for the bowl of rice, stomach churning suddenly with hunger. How long had it been since he last ate?
Changmin spanked him, and Jaejoong yelped.
“Don’t use your hands.”
Jaejoong glared at him.
“You don’t have to eat,” Changmin said with a smirk. “I can tell Yunho that you aren’t hungry.”
They both knew how hungry he was. Swallowing his pride, Jaejoong leaned over the bowls and ate the rice with just his mouth. It was a little harder to drink the water, but it was cool on his sore throat and he did his best.
When he was done, he curled up on the floor and tried not to throw it back up. It must have been a lot longer since he last ate than he thought if rice was making him sick.
Changmin came over to him and held out his hand. “Get up.”
Shaking, Jaejoong did.
Changmin attached a leash to his collar and tugged on it. Jaejoong whimpered. “Follow me.”
Jaejoong snorted. “Like I have a choice.”
Changmin smirked down at him. “You do have a choice, but I think you already know what happens when you fight us.”
Jaejoong lowered his head and nodded. Changmin was right. He could have fought. He could have rebelled. But he didn’t, because he didn’t want to be hurt. What did that make him? A coward? Or someone that was smart and making the best of his situation?
Jaejoong wasn’t sure.
The gray door opened, and Changmin tugged on the leash again. Head lowered, Jaejoong crawled after him. The hallway was just as dimly lit as the room and had the same linoleum floor. Changmin didn’t go far until he opened another door and pulled Jaejoong inside.
A bathroom. Thank god.
Changmin removed the leash. He went to the tub and started the water. “Use the bathroom, Pretty,” he said, and then jumped up on the sink.
Jaejoong tilted his head at him.
Changmin laughed. “No, you can’t stand up, but you can sit on the toilet like a girl.”
Blushing madly, Jaejoong climbed onto the toilet and sat, he turned his face away from Changmin. Even more shame filled him as he lost control of his bowels, and he buried his face in his hands.
Changmin said nothing, but Jaejoong felt him watching. His breath hitched with barely concealed whines, and he blinked past tears. He wiped himself and flushed the toilet quickly.
“Bathtub,” Changmin said. “Don’t worry about the collar. It’s been waterproofed.”
Jaejoong was almost eager to be clean and he quickly climbed in, sinking into the hot water. It burned his wounds and turned his skin pink, but he didn’t care. He sat there, head leaning back against the edge and just soaked, trying to transport himself to his jetted tub in his private bathroom.
“This isn’t a day spa, Pretty Pet. Get yourself clean.”
Jaejoong nodded. There was shampoo and conditioner and soap and Jaejoong was more than grateful for them. He scraped away the dried clumps of come on his skin and in his hair.
Changmin sat on the edge of the tub. He had taken his jacket off, and it was the first time Jaejoong had seen any of his skin. The man was built, strong and healthy. Cobbled abs, firm pectorals, large biceps. Not that Jaejoong hadn’t known that from how easily he controlled him. He stared because Changmin let him.
He reached into the tub and grabbed Jaejoong’s ankle, lifting it out of the water. He covered Jaejoong’s leg in shaving cream and proceeded to de-hair his legs. Jaejoong shivered under the soft treatment. Last time Changmin had something sharp by his leg, he’d practically carved him open. He was careful around the lacerations, and then even more careful around his knees and ankles.
“You look confused,” Changmin said and motioned him to sit on the edge of the tub too. Jaejoong did, and blushed bright red when Changmin started shaving his balls. “We like our pets pretty, and you’re probably the prettiest of them all. You should look it.”
Jaejoong blushed and turned over when Changmin told him too. He held really still while Changmin carefully shaved around his asshole.
“We also love pampering our pets, when they’re good. And despite the first few days, you’ve been very, very good.”
A different liquid dripped down the cleft of his ass. Jaejoong moaned when two fingers pressed into his body.
“Hm, so pretty,” Changmin whispered. He thrust his finger in and out of Jaejoong, twisting them and spreading them before adding a third. “Every morning, after you have eaten, you will come in here and make sure you are still pretty. You will shower and you will clean yourself of whatever we did to you the night before. When you’re done, you will wait in here for either Yunho or me to come and fetch you, do you understand?”
Jaejoong nodded.
Changmin slapped his ass sharply. “And from now on you will address us properly. You will always call me Changmin-master, and you will call Yunho, Yunho-master. Understand?
Jaejoong swallowed, shut his eyes tightly and whispered, “Yes, Changmin-master.”
“Good boy. Now.” Changmin removed his fingers and pulled the plug on the tub. He flipped the shower on only long enough to rinse Jaejoong off in lukewarm water. “When you are waiting for us, you will wait there.” He pointed to what looked like a dildo stuck to the floor.
Jaejoong’s eyes went wide and he looked up at Changmin.
Changmin smiled and touched his cheek. “Trust me. Knowing that you are in here with that up your ass will mean that we won’t keep you waiting long. Go ahead. I have to go change my clothes.”
Shaking, Jaejoong climbed out of the tub.
Changmin dried him off, mostly, and then the door shut behind him.
Jaejoong went over to the dildo and swallowed. The thing was huge. He put his hand around it and his fingers didn’t meet around the girth of it. Looking around, Jaejoong shivered, and stood up. His legs felt weird, and his ass even weirder, with the skin shaved. He pondered himself in the mirror. The bruises on his face and chest were sickly green, and the cuts on his thighs were red from the bath. The black collar stood out starkly against his pale skin. He fingered the studded spikes that claimed him as someone else’s property.
It didn’t seem like the Spikes were going to let him go. It didn’t seem like they kidnapped him for ransom.
Jaejoong decided that being clean did mean that his teeth needed to be brushed. He found a toothbrush under the sink and brushed his teeth quickly. He had no idea how long Yunho or Changmin would be gone, but disobeying them on the first day he was allowed out of that room was not a good thing.
Jaejoong waited a few precious seconds. He didn’t know when the next time would be that he could stand up. With a deep breath, Jaejoong sank to the floor. The bottle of lube was next to the tub, and Jaejoong picked it up. He was suddenly grateful that Changmin had played with him before he left. He covered the dildo with lube and then straddled it.
Flushing, Jaejoong held it firmly and then positioned it at his body. He sat slowly, moaning when the head slipped past the tight ring of muscles. He whimpered as his body was stretched more than it ever had been. His eyes shut tightly, his mouth open in a soundless moan, Jaejoong went down until he was sitting on the floor, legs bent at the knee. He didn’t move, hands gripping his thighs. His muscles pulsated around the toy and he shifted, whimpering. Lifting up and down, over and over, fucking himself on the toy.
His dick twitched and hardened half way. A pearl of precome glistened at the slit and then dripped as more pulsed from him, leaving a thin wet glistening trail from the tip of his dick to the floor.
He was pretty sure he was not allowed to pleasure himself, and he sat there, trying to will away the lust.
The door opened only a few minutes later, but it felt like it was hours. Jaejoong lifted his head and whined.
Yunho smiled down at him and cupped his cheek. “Changmin was right. You’re so pretty.” He kneeled in front of Jaejoong and gripped his hips. He lifted up and Jaejoong whimpered when the toy moved, and then Yunho pushed him back down. “Fuck yourself on it,” he said, and lifted Jaejoong’s arms to his shoulders.
Eagerly, Jaejoong used Yunho’s body as support and lifted his ass up and down, the large toy spreading him open. He cried out, noises echoing around the bathroom when Yunho’s hand wrapped around his erection.
“You were in here for almost fifteen minutes and you didn’t stroke yourself?”
Jaejoong shook his head. “N-no, Yunho-master.”
“Why not?”
“I … I …didn’t think … allowed … oh god,” Jaejoong broke off and his body shuddered and he screamed as his orgasm ripped through him. Yunho had grabbed a towel and wrapped his cock up in it so there wasn’t a mess.
Jaejoong tried to steady his breath. His muscles were spasming around the toy in his ass.
Yunho lifted his head and then smacked him hard across the face.
Jaejoong cried out and fell to the side, catching himself on his hands.
“You are not allowed to come until we tell you to.”
Jaejoong’s chest hitched and he nodded and whispered an apology.
“Don’t forget.”
Jaejoong nodded. Yunho lifted Jaejoong’s body, and he whimpered in disappointment when the toy fell out of him.
Yunho chuckled and attached the leash to Jaejoong’s collar. He stood up, tugged on it, and Jaejoong crawled after him, skin still red with shame and lust.
When he entered the room, he stopped in surprise. The futon had been replaced with a real bed, complete with pillows and blankets. All the linens were red. Next to it was a dresser. A rug covered the cold floor. By the door were the bowls, and Yunho motioned to them, and Jaejoong again ate all the rice and drank the water.
Yunho led him to the bed, and Jaejoong moaned at how soft the mattress was.
Yunho chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He held out his hand and said, “Give me your hand.”
Jaejoong did, and watched as Yunho attached a thick leather cuff to his wrist. There was a metal loop on one side. He did the same to his other wrist and put a cuff on both of his ankles.
“Up on the bed,” Yunho said, and Jaejoong obeyed.
Yunho took the leash and tied it to one of the now-wooden bed posts. There was a thick metal eyelet on each post and Jaejoong had a feeling that he was going to be suspended between them soon
Yunho touched the rail of the headboard, and Jaejoong put his hands there. He cuffed them to the wood, and then moved behind him. Jaejoong sighed at the first touch of firm hands on his ass, spreading and massaging.
“Changmin did a great job shaving you. He’s always been better at it than me.”
Yunho’s dick ran up and down the cleft of Jaejoong’s ass, and he held his breath until the man thrust forward, cock completely inside him. Jaejoong whined and tugged on the cuffs.
Yunho’s breathing quivered and his hands gripped Jaejoong’s ass tightly. He thrust fast, but still in complete control. Jaejoong had just come, but he wasn’t really surprised when his cock filled again. But he didn’t want to come again, not from Yunho. Not from Changmin. He was already living with enough shame. He didn’t want to add liking what they did to him on top of the list of things to hate about himself.
Luckily, Yunho didn’t last long, and he pulled out and splattered Jaejoong’s back and ass with come.
“You are going to be the best pet that any Spike has ever owned.”
Owned.
Jaejoong swallowed, and did nothing when Yunho cleaned off his back with a soft towel. The cuffs were released, but not the leash.
“Sleep, Pretty,” Yunho whispered. “Changmin and I have some work to do, but we will be back.”
The door shut behind him, and Jaejoong curled up in the covers and around the pillows. He hated how good it felt. He hated how much his body responded to them. He hadn’t ever seen sex as something special, or something that only two people in love would have shared. His father’s position meant that Jaejoong had probably what others would consider too much sex. But he was in charge then. And he was the one who dictated the other person’s pleasure.
Being taken and controlled and forced into this should not have felt so good.
Part 2:
Conditioned Response: When a horse is trained to react to a stimulus the same way every time the animal confronts that stimulus. .