PAYBACK BOOK 2.

Chapter 2.

On the way to the film set, I received a message from that idiot while I was asleep in the bumpy car. I didn't get to read it until much later.

 

We've arrived in city xxx, which is two hours away from Seoul.

 

[Where]

 

(City xxx)

 

After replying with the city name, another message came in.

 

[Report updates periodically.]

 

"Is there something wrong?"

 

Han-Soo, who was walking ahead, asked me what was wrong as I stopped to read a message. I typed a reply while responding to Han-Soo.

 

"That's an annoying message."

 

(And why should I tell you?)

 

Han-Soo laughed and jokingly asked if it was a message from an enemy, but I immediately lowered my head when I felt the trembling. 

 

[Don't you want payment? I need to know your location to pay you, don't I?] 

 

It felt like I was the one in debt. Why was this guy making such a fuss over something that hadn't been paid for yet? 

 

(You can pay me whenever I ask.)

 

I thought that answer would leave him speechless, but his next message still managed to infuriate me.

 

[Give it, you idiot!]

 

I snapped in frustration, but then a series of messages came in rapidly: 

 

[Tell me, what do you use as a pillow when you sleep?]

 

I should have ignored him and ended it there, but I couldn't control my frustration in front of him, and I also wanted to use the word "dominant" with him, so I hurried. Tapping rapidly with my fingers.

 

(Well, it's your hand, you idiot!)

 

[Haha, it's 'pillow' instead. "Pillow"]

 

"Taemin, are you okay?"

 

When I looked up at the sound of my manager calling me, I realised I had been making a fussing sound. Han-Soo, who was standing next to him, also widened his eyes in surprise.

".. manager"

 

"Hmm, what is it?"

 

I showed the other person the word 'hand' on my phone without realising my voice was trembling with frustration.

 

"This word...damn, is this word misspelt?"

 

After I'd forgotten about it for a few days, that lunatic started sending messages again, always ending with the same thing: 

 

[How do you spell that? Try typing it out.]

 

I knew that shooting a film takes at least a few months and, at most, a year or more, but this time I truly understood how much preparation is required for just one shot. How long has it taken? Finding a suitable location for the scene isn't easy, and even when one is found, there are often communication and coordination issues. Furthermore, renting the location usually involves expensive fees.

 

I didn't even know that filming scenes of everyday life, like roads, train stations, and bus stops that appear in movies, required advance notice and permission. Official permission must be obtained first. Of course, a low-budget film from a PD doesn't have enough money to secure filming locations.

 

That's why I started carrying heavy equipment and running from the very first day: we had to shoot every scene within a limited time, or we'd have to film in certain locations under cover. It was in an unauthorised location, so I was able to adapt to filming quickly and realised that the manager's expectations were actually achievable.

 

"Hey, it's dark here! Raise the reflector panel a little higher!"

 

The staff raised a large reflector high above their heads as instructed by the cinematographer. The location was a small train station in the suburbs, as needed.

 

The filming had to be finished before dawn, just before the trains started running. Everyone was rubbing their still-groggy eyes and setting up the filming equipment in the dark.

 

My job was to hold the base of the swaying light steady. When we first came here a few days ago, the PD (Producer) wasn't very happy. He looked hesitant, as if asking, 'Why are we here?' But because the manager, who was willing to pose for nude photos in front of PD Song even though he wasn't specifically ordered to come along with Han-Soo and offered to help for free, eventually got to participate in the filming. It seems like PD Song fell into the trap of freebies that my manager emphasised so much. Even so, he was very grateful to us for helping out on set.

 

Even though he wasn't paying them in cash, the real reason he wasn't giving them money was that he needed to replace old, worn-out equipment. This included the lights I had to secure to the frame, this type of base, and the real-time recording microphone and equipment, all of which had been heavily used. So, it wasn't surprising if one of the lights suddenly went out.

 

"Hurry!"

 

A light bulb flickered on with a sound before going out. Suddenly, everyone turned to the bulb. Silence fell. We descended into the usually noisy, chaotic station, and soon everyone's eyes were fixed on PD Song. Everyone knew we'd been given permission to film at this location just in the nick of time, and today was also the last day.

 

The other scenes that needed to be filmed here have already been completed, so we can't move to a new location. The PD looked up at the station's switched-off lights, which, in the silence, were deafening, befitting the early morning hours. While buying new lights and transporting them here would certainly be expensive, coordinating the location and scheduling the actors for a new shoot was an even bigger undertaking.

 

I don't know if it's because their fees weren't very high, but most of the actors only filmed for short periods, according to their schedules, and then returned to Seoul. Immediately, people who recognised each other offered to help with the filming out of pure kindness, since they had received help from PD Song in the past. Therefore, the atmosphere during filming was very rushed. The evidence is that one of the actors hasn't even arrived yet, so we're rushing right now.

 

They were all scrambling to get everything ready so they could start filming as soon as he arrived, but when the lights went out, nobody moved. PD Song, staring at the light bulbs until he looked like he was getting a headache, walked over to the cinematographer and asked in a normal tone, "What is the current exposure time?"

 

"It should be around 2.8."

 

After the cinematographer checked the light meter with the assistant director and gave his feedback, PD Song nodded in agreement.

 

"That's enough, thank you. Do you have another reflector sheet?"

 

The station started moving again in chaos upon hearing PD Song's words. Someone ran outside, returning with a reflector, and everyone was busy dealing with their own tasks, forgetting one crucial fact: the actor hadn't arrived yet. No one thought about that actor. While adjusting the lighting equipment, PD Song and the cinematographer were repositioning the cameras, and the assistant director answered the phone with a tense expression.

 

"Oh, you said you just woke up?"

 

Upon hearing those words, everyone glanced at the PD again. He, who had just finished wiping down the camera, walked over to the assistant director with a frown on his face.

 

"We changed the filming date because of this project. Besides, you said you were only free today, so I told them to leave 2 hours early. And... no, I understand you're busy, but expecting us to make adjustments to suit your schedule multiple times... huh?"

 

The assistant director's eyes widened in shock as PD Song suddenly snatched the phone. But after hearing what he said next, everyone's expressions changed in similar ways. 

 

"If you're busy, you can't come, can you? 

 

Ah...hmm, that's alright. As for the payment for the previous shoot, I'll calculate it in detail. You don't need to come now. Your filming is over."

 

beep beep

PD hung up abruptly without waiting for a reply and glanced around. He was a man of few words, but I could tell he was angry right now. He was angry, though his expression was unchanged. Then his gaze swept around the station and stopped on me, crouching and holding the light stand.

 

"Mr Taemin, please get ready."

 

"Yes?"

 

I asked again, surprised, but he had already turned to face someone else.

 

"Someone go and grab that thing instead!"

 

Luckily, we finished shooting the relatively short scenes just in time. The station staff, who had been frustrated with the filming throughout, probably knew it was the last day. I said goodbye and told them I'd see the movie when it's released. I should be happy about getting an unexpected role as the manager predicted, but I'm also a little bewildered.

 

I wasn't really aware of what I was doing. I don't even remember if I delivered my lines smoothly. Originally, in this scene, the protagonist was supposed to meet his best friend. My hometown was the setting, and as just one of the protagonist's friends, I played the role without any awkwardness. But then I realised my close friend wouldn't be appearing on camera again, so we had to adjust the script, moving me into a supporting role instead.

 

I had no idea my role would change completely because of this one scene, the one where we were carefully loading the equipment onto the truck in the morning. As the sunlight softened, I couldn't understand why the manager and Han-Soo, who was walking beside him, were so excited.

 

"Wow! Did this really happen? I was hoping for it, but I actually got extra lines!" So that's how it is. I think I won't fall for his tricks again. Before the manager could react dramatically...

 

"Taemin, are you okay? If you're panicking, let me know. I'll go; please tell me anxiety-relieving ointment for you right now." 

 

In the end, the manager himself panicked and couldn't finish the sentence, swaying and clutching his heart. Beside him stood Han-Soo, his mouth agape in fright, his face looking very similar to that of the other. 

 

"Why am I so scared even though I'm not even standing in front of a camera? What should I do next? Just seeing Taemin filming makes my heart race."

 

"My heart is pounding...sniffle..." Han-Soo, speaking less because his voice was trembling, stood beside his manager and started trying to find every role he could play. Just as I couldn't take it anymore and was about to tell him to shut up...

 

I felt a vibration in my back pocket. I automatically pulled out my phone, frowning and scowling. The only person who ever texts me is that crazy guy. For the past week, he's been sending me messages to test my spelling. Of course, I was annoyed to see the word "owner" from that guy, so I asked my manager and Han-Soo for help several times.

 

They were surprised I had a friend who asked such questions, but I emphasised to both of them that he was just a "crazy guy." However, they both probably saw it as close friends teasing each other and helped with a smile. Even so, the words that the "crazy guy" hurled were so difficult that even the manager and Han-Soo, who were helping him, misunderstood.

 

I still received a reply like this.

 

[Who's helping you? It's that gang of thugs, isn't it?]

 

After being told to look at the message in silence, both of them, who had been intently reading it for a long time, spoke up simultaneously.

 

"What a crazy person!"

 

"What the hell is going on, you lunatic!"

 

After that, every time he sent a message, the two of them would become even more excited and shout, "Let's take down that lunatic!" Even though they were called the "bad boys"...

 

Even when they kept coming back, I looked at the message with a furrowed brow, and those two understood immediately.

 

"Gasp! Are you crazy?!"

 

"Agh! That crazy guy sent another message!"

 

The manager, excited, quickly pulled out his phone and pretended to open the Korean dictionary app, which he had only learned about the day before. I read the message before raising my hand to stop him.

 

"It's not a spelling error."

 

"Hmm, isn't that a spelling error? Didn't that lunatic send it?"

 

"You're crazy, that's right... But this time, no matter how I read it, it's not a spelling puzzle at all. 

 

[Go to the late-night shop across from bank xx at the 00 intersection right now!]

 

Perhaps because I'm familiar with this small town, I knew right away that intersection 00 wasn't far from here. But what time is that building across from Bank XX? Anyway, I dragged my weary body to the location mentioned in the message, purely out of curiosity. I thought that after finding out what happened, I would quickly go back to sleep at the model hotel. 

 

When I arrived, I saw a room that appeared before me. It was the only luxury hotel in the city centre. And what was astonishing was that a message just came in, as if someone was watching me.

 

[Room 1208]

 

I pressed the doorbell, then stared at the numbers on the white door. The hallway where I stood was shrouded in silence, as if even the slightest sound would be interrupted. I immediately apologised profusely to the hotel worker. It felt like it was just a place I'd stop over for a night's sleep and then leave, so I didn't feel particularly attached to the hotel's cleanliness.

 

That crazy guy opened the door while still holding the phone to his ear, then gestured for me to come in. I wondered who he was calling so early in the morning, but because of the content, they were speaking entirely in English. I immediately lost interest and instead glanced around the spacious hotel room, walking towards the window where I could see the dim light on the horizon.

 

The only light on was a small lamp in the entrance, so the room, with just a table and a sofa like a living room, was dim. I could see light filtering through the slightly ajar door, and it seemed that the crazy guy had gone in. I pulled the thick curtains to the side, widening the gap the size of my hand to the length of my arm, and then gazed at the empty street with hardly any traffic through the large window. Most of the buildings were dark, making me feel like I was the only one in the city. 

 

After staring out for a while, I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead against the window. I don't know when exactly. The glass pane felt cool the first time I touched it, then adjusted to near my body temperature, making me forget, for a moment, that I was even there. Right now, I feel really exhausted. I've been working nonstop, and then I unexpectedly got to film a scene, which has stressed me out without me even realising it. So I wasn't paying attention to anything until someone's arms wrapped around my waist, and I realised they were hugging me from behind. 

 

*Gasp*

 

I tried to turn my face away when his strong arms wrapped around my waist, but he pushed me against the window in that position.

 

"Hey…"

 

I made a move to object, but the lips close to my ear whispered.

 

"Just be simple; I'll make sure you enjoy yourself. To make you enjoy it," he said. I didn't understand what he meant right away, but I clearly understood from the 'enjoyment' implied in his tone.

 

When I realised that, goosebumps covered my entire body. I felt the glass pane pressed against my chest, transferring a cold energy, but that sudden chill didn't disappear immediately because of the person standing behind me. I was breathing heavily, unable to understand my own condition fully. I didn't even realise that the arms wrapped around my waist were pulling my hips away from the window.

 

With my upper body pressed against the window and my face pressed in such an embarrassing position, it was difficult to turn my head to look directly at him. I awkwardly reached out and braced myself against the glass, trying to twist away, but I was no match for the force of that guy, who was much bigger than me. Despite the hopelessness, I continued to struggle, trying to escape. However, I couldn't because of the breath behind me. He leaned his face down in the same direction I turned, and I heard a murmur above my temple, close enough to hear his lips moving clearly.

 

"Did you know that the weak point of most people is in the middle of their torso?"

 

He spoke as he slightly eased the pressure he was applying to me. Of course, I quickly used my hand to push against the glass, not wanting to let that opportunity slip away, but that was all I could do, because the hand, which had been tensing up from exertion, became stiff and remained motionless.

 

The fingers that were wrapped around my neck stopped at my chin, before the thumb and middle finger pressed down on two spots on my neck, making me freeze like a doll. A switch was turned off. A chilling sensation shot up my spine as his hand pointed with pinpoint accuracy, as if indicating the exact location of the fatal blow. The touch moved with incredible natural ease, as if he were accustomed to gripping the other's neck and squeezing their windpipe without hesitation.

 

I wanted to scream and ask him what kind of person he was, but I could only gasp for breath. In the moment of pause, the hand that had been around my waist had somehow moved up to my chest. He must have been pleased with my compliance, because he spoke while his hand continued to caress my body.

 

"You should know this already."

 

His hand stopped at my solar plexus and gently pressed against my skin, then slowly moved down to my navel. I felt the warmth of his strong hand. His fingertips were touching my bare skin through the thin shirt, pausing at the indentation of my navel before slowly tracing a circular motion and gently caressing the recess through the shirt.

 

"You should know this, too, right?"

 

He pressed his fingertips, which had been circling my navel, as if to confirm what he had said, before whispering in a voice so soft it was almost inaudible.

 

"But it could be the opposite," he said. His fingers began to move as slowly as the sound. He moved so slowly, like a snail crawling, that it sent a shiver down my spine. At the same time, in contrast, in comparison, it pestered me for so long that I became accustomed to the act. A strange, tingling sensation spread through my inexplicably tense abdomen. Perhaps it was because I was getting used to the tall, heavy body pressed against my back. No, perhaps it was because I was adjusting to him, having stopped speaking, and his faint breath caressing my skin.

 

Before I knew it, my rapid, drum-like breathing, echoing in my ears, had mingled with his. He allowed me to accept who I truly was. He remained silent for a long time, as if trying to calm me down, before his grip around my neck loosened. But I only parted my mouth slightly instead of struggling to escape as I had before.

 

"Damn it! What the hell are you doing?"

 

Although the pressure on the vital spot had eased, his large hand still gripped my neck. He tightened his embrace around my waist and pulled me closer to him. Instead of responding with a gasp, I tensed my hand, still gripping the glass. As I awkwardly tried to twist my body, he continued his useless lecture about weak points.

 

"But the most sensitive point is probably here."

 

A slow, deliberate voice filtered into my ears, yet my senses were solely focused on my crotch. His hand grasped that part of me without warning. Suddenly, a chilling sensation, unlike anything before, sent shivers down my spine, as if I'd been doused in cold water.

 

"I'm asking you, what the hell are you doing?" I spoke through clenched teeth, tensing my arms in a desperate attempt to escape. He grabbed my neck again, as if he owned me, pulling the reins of a horse.

 

"Ugh! Let go!"

 

"What are you asking? I already told you, I'm going to entertain you."

 

"Is this how it's going to be?" I asked, bewildered, in my mind, without him hearing. But even without the hand on my tracheostomy tube, I probably wouldn't have been able to ask anyway.

 

*Grab* 

*Whoosh*

 

He unhooked my pants and then slid the zipper down with one hand. I got goosebumps all over my skin when my clothes suddenly felt so loose. It was like an instinctive premonition, a premonition of what would happen next. He grasped my penis through my thin underwear, and my ragged breathing hitched, drawing my attention even more to his hand. He moved his hand slowly, his outstretched fingertips tracing the contours of the penis as if caressing it. This time, he continued to move his hand languidly, slowly and gently, as if comforting me as before, but my body stiffened with tension. Then, his lips, which had moved to my ear, asked...

 

"How long has it been?"

 

The whispered sound turned into a warm, moist breath that entered my ears.

 

"It's been a long time since you've been pleasured by someone else's hands like this, hasn't it?" As he spoke, the hand that had been caressing my penis lowered to grasp my testicles.

 

I frowned and unconsciously lowered my head. I don't know when the hand that had been around my neck had moved; I didn't notice at all because my senses were completely alert. It was his hands that aroused my lower regions until they ached, and his whispers that sent shivers of heat through me.

 

"You haven't masturbated in a while, have you?"

 

"Don't...again."

 

The resistance, the attempt to cry out "don't do it," was drowned out by the groans in my throat. I don't know why I'm like this. It's as if heat were building up in my lower region due to my arousal. As my core began to harden, he, who had been caressing me quickly, now used his fingernail to nudge the rounded head through my underwear lightly. Suddenly, a faint electric current shot through my abdomen, sending shivers down my spine. He must have sensed my reaction through the close contact between our bodies, because he pressed his moist lips against my ear and deliberately nicked the tip again with his fingernail before asking once more.

 

"Tell me, what do you do when you masturbate?"

 

Damn it, stop talking nonsense...

 

"Did you first caress the crotch of your underwear like this?"

 

I tried to ignore the sound, not wanting to hear it, but his question drew my attention as if by magic. His hand, the stimulation that hurt, gripped me, and the simultaneous thrill made the sound penetrate even deeper into my being.

 

"Does it feel good when you stroke this area? Like doing it this way."

 

The hand that had been stroking my penis slid down, gliding smoothly over the soft area below, like a marble in the palm of his hand. Suddenly, one of my knees threatened to bend. The voice was screaming inside me, telling me that if I didn't resist and push him away now, I'd be overwhelmed by the sensation in my lower body, the blood rushing in and out. However, his whisper interrupted the alarm.

 

"My hand almost burned when I grabbed it and pulled it up and down. Even through your underwear, I can feel that thing of yours getting hotter and hotter. You feel it too, don't you? That my hand is burning hot..."

 

I really imagined that feeling when I heard his mesmerising voice, recalling memories of sitting alone in my room, masturbating long ago. Then, from the burning sensation in my core that hardened more and more to my touch, to the breathless, tingling feeling from doing that, the moment I thought about it, my lower body truly swelled. His hand caressing my crotch through my underwear made me feel so hot that my hips twitched automatically. Suddenly, I heard a compliment mixed with suppressed laughter in my ears.

 

"Yeah, that's it. You're probably starting to feel a tingling sensation and a fluttering in your lower abdomen. Just imagine how aroused you were when you were masturbating with your bare hands."

 

"More than when you were touching through your underwear, and how fast and furiously your hand was stroking that lustful penis."

 

Again, I unconsciously swallowed hard, my mind filled only with the memory of myself frantically following his instructions. It was a way of dealing with things.

 

The pent-up emotion, the feeling of something unresolved... Yes, what I wanted was a hand... a hand that would grip that shaft itself, a hand that had stroked it harder and faster until I was breathless. I tensed my lower abdomen and twisted my hips in a mixture of regret and longing. Then, in a split second, a tingling sensation shot through my lower body, and his strong hand truly grasped my penis.

 

"More"

 

My consciousness blurred as a hand began to grip and vigorously stroke my penis, without me even realising that my underwear had been removed.

 

"Hacking, hacking, hacking..."

 

I gasped for breath through my gaping mouth, my head pressed against my arm resting on the window, feeling like I was going insane, even though my body was accustomed to using my hands. The man was good at masturbating, but now it was different. I felt like my hips were melting under the force of his grip, his rapid, painful strokes. My body, aroused for so long I can't even remember, slumped easily under his hands like an idiot.

 

"Haa...Haaah...Haaah...again..."

 

My breathing became increasingly ragged before my breaths were interrupted several times by the intense arousal building up in my lower body. I closed my eyes tightly because I could barely breathe, so I heard the whisper again.

 

"Try wiggling your hips a bit. It's not satisfying enough yet, is it? Your juices are flowing. Don't you want to finish it quickly?" 

 

My brain, which had momentarily shut down, accepted all his words. My body, craving the pleasure of release, began to wiggle my hips as he instructed, but I couldn't move freely because he was standing right behind me. Therefore, my posture was no different from grinding my hips against his tightly pressed body. 

 

At that moment, my mind was filled with the desire to release myself quickly, so I wasn't aware of my movements. All my senses were focused on the urge to release, almost at the finish line, intensified by the faster rhythm of his hands. I didn't even realise that the owner of the hands gripping my waist had pulled me back a step, shifting my hips backwards. But it actually made things better, allowing me to move my hips more easily and simultaneously rub my buttocks against the hard, wall-like body behind me. Ahhh... Almost there...

 

After a while, I took a deep breath, unaware that his hot, hardened penis was pressing against the swaying buttocks, keeping my eyes closed, before releasing a cloudy fluid from my lower body, which twitched repeatedly. The fluid gushed out. It was like a dam breaking, releasing a sour smell first. It was a scent I hadn't smelled in a long time, so unfamiliar. I hadn't made any resolutions to live a morally upright life. Still, as I continued living an arduous daily life, sleeping only three to four hours a day, I was sure I wouldn't have any free time to masturbate.

 

Perhaps it was because I had just tasted the exhilarating pleasure of liberation that I hadn't felt in a long time, but my legs suddenly trembled. If I hadn't used both my arms to support myself, I would have been trembling. The window might have collapsed just like that, but i certainly wouldn't have fallen to the ground because there was a hand holding my waist. That hand was moving slowly. Before I knew it, I realised I was bending over halfway, before a faint sound stirred my hazy consciousness.

 

Crack

The sound of a belt buckle being unbuckled, followed by a zipper being pulled down, brought me back to my senses instantly. But by the time I could exclaim in surprise, it was already too late. I tried to lift my torso, but his hands pressed my back down forcefully, forcing me to arch my back.

 

Thump!

More!

 

I automatically screamed in my mind when he shoved my shoulder against the window with a loud bang. As if that wasn't enough, his hand pressed hard against the back of my neck. He pinned me against the glass again, my face pressed against it. I don't know how he was holding me, but I couldn't push his hands away or stand up. Suddenly, I heard his deep voice, as if he could read my confusion.

 

"I forgot to mention that I've studied some martial arts. That's why I'm good at disorienting others and holding my opponents down so they can't move. That's my strength. That's my special ability!"

 

My face turned pale when I realised my arched hips were exposed to the cold air. Wait a minute, you bastard... Upon realising the truth, I took a deep breath before hearing him smear my semen on my body and rub it for a while, like rubbing wet fluid onto something. Then he pushed my back, arching my waist until I couldn't move. I could clearly feel his eyes fixed on my naked lower body, as if he were savouring the sight.

 

"You bastard..."

 

"God of Destruction"

 

Huh? Before I could even process the strange words that suddenly blurted out, like a spell, something was already pressed against my hip.

 

"Do you know what this is?"

 

"Stop talking nonsense and take your hands off me, you bastard!"

 

Probably because I insulted him in such an embarrassing way that it wasn't threatening at all, he didn't care. Instead, he started rubbing a part of his body against the side of my hip, and I realised that was the location of the tattoo when I heard his next words.

 

"The symbol of the god of destruction."

 

My tongue was so stiff I couldn't speak. He kept rambling, but after realising what the organ that kept touching the tattooed area was, I couldn't think of the next insult. What was rubbing against me was his erection, burning hot as if it were scorching my skin. He was using his hardened penis to rub against my body.

 

"This deity has eyes that are closed in slumber. Anyone who gazes into those eyes will perish. But..." The tip of the figure stopped midway through the tattoo, above the clearly visible, wide-open eyes. "You have no idea how much I miss those eyes."

 

The throbbing, hot shaft pressing against my hip slid down with a whisper. Even though it was just a slight movement, I got goosebumps. This guy's penis, situated between my slightly slippery buttocks, I wondered to myself why my skin wasn't being crushed. The answer to that silly question was my own semen. Realising that, I automatically opened my mouth and spoke.

 

"Damn it...what the hell are you doing?"

 

"I told you I would make you enjoy yourself."

 

What? Are you kidding me? Anger flared up, and I turned to face him, but his hand, locked around my back, pushed me back, causing me pain. Now I'm angry at myself for acting like an idiot, but when he added that next sentence, I was so stunned that I couldn't even be angry anymore.

 

"I'm paying you the compensation you're asking for, so just be simple."

 

He mumbled something with a straight face before using his other hand to wrap around my waist, pulling me even closer. Then he lifted my hips to match his height. My hips were suspended high in the air, forcing me to stand on tiptoe. I couldn't move my body, which was pressed down, so I had to stand upright. Meanwhile, his penis, pressed against my buttocks, began to move in a slow, rhythmic motion. That's when I realised he was breathing more rapidly.

 

"Aren't you enjoying it? You held it in until you released this thick fluid, didn't you?" Saying that, he moved his hand from my waist to cup that part of me.

 

"Gulp!"

 

I groaned softly from the sudden pain before hearing him chuckle softly behind me.

 

"Don't be afraid. I'll make you enjoy it again," he added, pushing his thick, fleshy penis between my legs until it hurt.

 

"I'll restrain myself for now. Clench your thighs tightly, and then..."

 

As the hand that was roughly gripping my penis began to squeeze my soft, rounded genitals harder, my mind went blank. At first, it hurt, but as my body went limp and trembled, he started moving his hand again and slowly stroked my penis. I didn't hear his pleas as he rubbed against my buttocks with relentless arousal, but I did as he asked because his own penis had become erect again.

 

"Try seductively swaying your hips."