Crack.Final one, dead center, hard enough to make stars burst behind my eyelids. "And that," he finishes, "was for being such an insolent, bratty pain in my ass."
I collapse forward, panting ragged into the vinyl, tears pricking my eyes from the sting. My cheeks throb like twin suns, cherry-red and pulsing, the heat radiating off them in waves. Every shift grinds my trapped cock against the bench, pleasure-pain twisting my gut into knots. I'm wrecked—humiliated, hard as steel, and hating how part of me craves the next one.
Donghwa pauses. His hands return, both palms cupping my roasted flesh. He massages slow, firm circles, thumbs digging into the welts, spreading the slick remnants of his spit. The pressure hurts and soothes in equal measure, coaxing a shuddering groan from my throat. Cool air hits the heated skin between his fingers, making me hiss.
"Understand what you did wrong yet?" he asks, voice deceptively mild, breath ghosting my ear. His thumbs dip lower, teasing my crack.
I hiccup—hic—a pathetic, broken sound that rips out of me before I can clamp my jaw shut. My throat's raw, chest heaving like I've run suicides for hours. Tears sting the corners of my eyes, blurring the mirror's mocking reflection of my flushed face and Donghwa's smug one hovering behind me.
"Yes," I choke out, the word mangled around another hiccup. "Fuck—hic—I'm sorry. Juststop."
His hands pause on my ass, thumbs digging into the throbbing welts just enough to make fresh fire lick up my nerves. But then they ease, kneading slow and deliberate, coaxing a shudder from my overworked muscles. "Good boy," he murmurs, voice all low rumble and approval, like I just aced a pop quiz instead of getting my ass turned into ground beef. "Next time you'll work out your grievances like an adult, won't you?"
I nod frantically—hic—chin scraping the vinyl, too wrecked to argue. Anything to make the burn stop spreading. His grip tightens, squeezing both cheeks in a firm, possessive roll that sends a bolt of white-hot pain straight to my core. I gasp, high and sharp, my whole body jerking forward into the bench.
Fuck.
There's a slick, warm puddle smeared under my belly. My cock—rock-hard—throbs against the padding, leaking like a broken faucet. Embarrassing. Obscene. A shiny wet spot spreading wider with every involuntary twitch. Pain shouldn't do this. Spankings are for whiny omegas in bad porn, not Alphas like me. But here I am, ass on fire, dick dripping, body humming like it's begging for round two.
What the hell is wrong with me?
"Good."
The word lands like a gavel, final and smug. Donghwa's hands lift off my ass, leaving the welts throbbing in the sudden absence of pressure. Cool air hits the heated skin, making me hiss through my teeth. I feel the shift as he stands—weight lifting off the mat, the faint rustle of his pants. My cheek stays mashed into the vinyl, sweat pooling under my face, but I track him in the mirror anyway. Can't help it. He's got that gravitational pull now, like my eyes are wired straight to him.
He circles the bench slow, deliberate, like a shark sizing up a chum bucket. Stops right in front of me. Legs spread wide, bracketing my head, knees brushing the padding on either side.The zipper of his pants rasps—slow, metalliczzzip—and my pulse kicks up, thudding heavy in my ears.
"Time you made up for it," he says, voice low and edged, like he's stating the obvious.
His hand fishes inside, pulls out his cock. Thick. Already hard, flushed dark at the tip, a fat bead of precum glistening under the gym lights. The scent hits me—musk and winter bite, sharp enough to cut through the sweat and rubber stink of the room. My mouth waters traitorously, stomach clenching.
No. Fuck no.
But then his fingers clamp my jaw. Rough grip, thumb digging into one hinge, fingers bruising the other. He tilts my head up, forcing my eyes to meet his. Dark, heavy-lidded, zero give.
"Open."
The leaking tip drags across my bottom lip—heavy, hot, smearing salt and slick. Back and forth, insistent pressure, painting my mouth shiny. It catches the corner, teases the seam, demands entry.
I glare up at him, teeth gritted, hiccup catching in my throat.Hic.Humiliating. My ass burns, cock trapped and aching under me, but this? On my knees—well, face-down like a pinned bitch—with his dick marking my lips like lipstick?
"Fuck you," I mutter, but my lips part anyway. Obedient. The bond hums under my skin, hot and insistent, overriding the rage screaming in my skull. His thumb pries wider, and I let it happen—lips stretching, tongue flicking out on instinct to taste the salt.
His thumb pries my jaw wider, relentless, and his tip slips past my lips—hot, heavy, the salty tang exploding over my tongue. I take him down numbly, no fight left, just this stupid, wired-in obedience that makes my gut twist. Inch by thick inch, stretching my mouth until my lips seal tight around him, veins pulsing against my tongue.
"Fuck," Donghwa hisses, fingers knotting in my sweaty hair, yanking my head forward. "That's it. Take it."
He thrusts—shallow at first, testing, then deeper, hips snapping with zero mercy. My throat convulses around the invasion, gagging wet and ugly, drool spilling down my chin in messy strings. I choke, gurgling around his cock, nose smashed against his pubes as he bottoms out, balls slapping my chin. Tears streak hot down my face, mixing with sweat, blurring the mirror where I watch myself—cheeks hollowed, eyes red-rimmed, looking every bit the wrecked slut he’s turning me into.
Humiliating. My ass still throbs from the spanking, welts screaming with every involuntary clench, and here I am, throat-fucked like a cheap toy. But my cock? Betraying bastard. It leaks steadily against the bench, trapped and grinding for friction I hate needing.
He uses me—ruthless, grunting low each time he buries himself deep, holding there until black spots dance in my vision. My lungs burn, throat raw, hiccups turning to desperate swallows around his girth. Spit bubbles at the corners of my mouth, dripping onto the vinyl.
Finally—finally—he pulls out with a wetpop, strings of saliva connecting us. I cough, violent hacks bending me double against the bench, gasping for air that tastes like him. Lungs screaming, throat wrecked, but my body shudders—whole-body quake of filthy anticipation—as his shadow shifts behind me.
Clothes rustle. Zipper down fully now. His pants hit the mat with a softthud, kicked aside careless. The bench dips under his weight as he straddles it behind me—thighs bracketing mine, knees pinning my legs wide. Heat rolls off him, cock heavy and slick against my stinging ass, sliding teasing through my cheeks.
My hole twitches, empty and aching, slick from earlier fingers and my own traitorous want. I suck in a ragged breath, glaringat his reflection—tattoos gleaming with sweat, eyes dark and hungry. "Donghwa—"
