#13 Collapse (3)
Scissors, suture thread, tweezers, rubbing alcohol for disinfection, suture needles, gauze. Everything needed to stitch up the torn wound. The blood had flowed copiously, but since he'd gripped the blade along its flat side, the skin had only split open slightly. No need to wait for the flesh to fill in—it could be closed with primary sutures easily enough. For something like this, it was simpler to handle alone than make a fuss.
Left-handed Yuchan had anticipated suturing it himself, so he'd seized the blade with his right. The wound, which had bled steadily for a while, stopped after he applied hemostatic agent and pressed it with gauze. For hygiene, he fetched a basin of water and washed it clean.
"What do I do... Teacher... I'm sorry..."
"It's fine. Go stand over there and keep your hands up."
He'd said it jokingly, but Nayae hovered anxiously, tears streaming nonstop. Such a weepy girl. Nayae had collapsed completely. She'd internalized her helplessness and fully embraced the brainwashing. After briefly passing out and coming to, she'd recalled what she'd done to Yuchan's hand and begged forgiveness right away. She'd even tried slashing her own hand with the utility knife in a frenzy, which he'd barely talked her out of. Now, as he sutured, she assisted with the chores while sobbing nonstop. It was all desirable, but right now, it was nothing but a nuisance.
With no reaction from Yuchan, Nayae wiped her tears, picked up the basin brimming with bloody water, and stood in the corner of the living room with her hands raised. He hadn't expected her to actually do it, so he watched her with a stunned expression. He taped the skin together, then began closing the wound with the needle threaded with suture. The U-shaped needle, curved like a fishhook, pierced the skin in a zigzag—a tedious process. To minimize contamination, every step was done with tweezers, and by the fifteenth stitch, his eyes were growing blurry.
Two stitches per centimeter. The sensitive palm skin made each puncture through living flesh excruciating. Yuchan finished perfectly, cut the thread, and flexed his hand. The forcibly joined flesh burned and tugged at the skin. He disinfected with alcohol, wrapped it tightly in bandages. Reddish stains seeped through.
"Nayae, that's enough. Come here."
When he lit a cigarette, she scurried over like a hostess and held the lighter to it. No one working nights wore a cow-print nightie, though. She always added a little something.
"Teacher, smoking when you have a wound isn't good..."
"When did I ask you to worry about that?"
Nayae flinched at his voice amid the exhaled smoke. But she no longer looked terrified like before. In her mind, Yuchan was no longer a frightening figure.
"It's my fault... I have no right to say that."
Muttering dejectedly, Nayae clutched her chest, stinging with guilt. She must have lost her mind for a moment. Not only hurting her teacher but trying to kill him? She was a worthless pet who deserved euthanasia on the spot.
"Nayae, come to the academy starting tomorrow. You've sorted your feelings now, right?"
"My feelings?"
"You were all shaken up because your boyfriend died."
"Oh, right."
She clapped as if just remembering, gazing at Yuchan with a shy expression.
"That doesn't matter anymore. In my life, Kim Hyunwoo oppa was just a stain to wipe away. You cleaned it up for me, Teacher."
"Did I?"
For an innocent girl's confession, the words carried an eerie tail. Yuchan sat her beside him and kneaded her breasts over her pajamas. If he photocopied Choi Nayae and placed one next to every man in South America, the drug cartels might collapse. This alluring texture surpassed any narcotic.
A silly joke.
"Yes. He was the bad guy who stole my precious first time that I should have given to you, Teacher."
Ah, so that's how her thinking had twisted. To probe further, he asked more carefully.
"Even though I killed Kim Hyunwoo?"
Nayae hesitated briefly. Her gaze drifted to her chest, distracted by his hands.
"It's fine. I absolutely won't tell anyone. I won't do anything to get you in trouble, Teacher."
If she told the police what he'd done to her, what he'd done to Kim Hyunwoo, Yuchan would be arrested. Then the one who'd accepted and understood a wretch like her would face harsh isolation from society. Being separated from him was worse than death. Her gaze was as earnest as ever—the pure eyes that once gazed brightly at the world, now warped by Yuchan. He felt immense pride in that.
They say humans can't resist mind control with enough time and drugs. But achieving such successful brainwashing with this level of dosage in such a short time? He'd be among the elite worldwide.
"What if I said I don't need you anymore?"
"Don't say scary things."
His work was like bonsai. He could set the direction, but the fine branches depended on her acceptance. He needed to check how her newly built logic circuits had settled.
Nayae dodged his question with a pitiful smile, wanting to believe it was a joke. She averted her eyes. Just imagining it tormented her.
"What would you do if I didn't need you?"
"...I'd work hard until you do."
Still vague. Her subconscious aversion to abandonment shaped the euphemism.
"And if you still weren't needed?"
Nayae's expression then mirrored Kim Hyunwoo's as he'd been shoved off the roof. They say lovers grow alike—is this what they meant?
"Do you really want to hear?"
Betrayal swelling at the mere thought, she glared reproachfully, her usually gentle eyes sharpening.
"I'd kill you and myself."
"What? Why me!"
Yuchan startled, flicking ash in surprise. He'd hoped it was cute lover's talk, but it sounded utterly serious. Nayae extended her fingers, ticking off reasons on her index finger as if organizing her thoughts.
"If you don't need me, I have no reason to live. And you made me like this, so we go together."
You made me like this. Her words carried thick resentment—not on the conscious surface, but bubbling like magma in her forgotten subconscious depths, a deadly poison.
"Oh ho."
The salmon girl, who hadn't resisted much even as he gnawed her to the bone, now harbored a spicy venom. Like an accidental great invention, Nayae's unexpected evolution made her Yuchan's masterpiece. Lust surged in him.
"So if you ever feel you don't need me, kill me before I realize it."
Nayae wiped a tear from her eye and beamed.
"You've become quite the cheeky pet."
Yuchan tugged the choker around her neck. Without resistance, she leaned in, burying her face in his lap. Even through his jeans, his rigid bulge pressed vividly against her cheek.
"I said something naughty, but I'll work hard! So you won't abandon me, Teacher!"
"My tastes are picky, so you'll have to try hard."
Nayae eagerly extended her tongue, slowly mouthing his bulge over the jeans. He felt her warm breath and soft tongue through the fabric.
"Order me to do anything. Treat Nayae roughly—I love it. Use me like an object."
Pausing briefly, her pupils gleamed crimson under the light, flashing like warning beacons in mesmerizing allure.
2. Yuchan rummaged through the storage closet for the needed items. Unused for so long, they were caked in dust. He set the small toolbox-like kit on the table and wiped it clean.
"Teacher, what's that?"
"A tattoo kit."
Tattooing was illegal in Korea except by doctors, but unlicensed artists were everywhere. Practically decriminalized, kits were easy to buy online. This one had cost 200,000 won. He'd used it on several pets.
"A tattoo?"
Nayae tilted her head curiously. Wondering why Teacher had such a thing at home, especially since he had none himself.
He plugged in the power supply and pressed the foot pedal. The motor rattled, the needle reciprocating like a sewing machine. Not bad for something neglected.
"Gonna write something pretty on Nayae."
"Ah..."
Not a high-end machine, the noise was loud. Nayae looked frightened.
"Nayae's body is mine. I can do what I want, right?"
"True, but... I don't like pain..."
Tattoos involved ink-filled needles piercing flesh to dye the dermis. She'd heard they hurt a lot, so she still looked reluctant.
"Nayae, come here."
Yuchan beckoned with crooked fingers. As she approached defenselessly, his fist sank into her soft abdomen.
"Guh!"
To him, a light jab without much force, but women's abdomens had less muscle, making them far more vulnerable. Nayae curled like a shrimp and collapsed. He'd wanted to slap her face but held back—marks would interfere with academy tomorrow.
"Look at me."
Clutching her stomach, Nayae glanced up cautiously. He'd softened a bit at her friendly demeanor, but crawling wouldn't be forgiven. Tears welled as she grimaced in pain. Yuchan grabbed her hair and patted her cheek.
"Smile. Teacher's educating you."
Her stiff lips twitched, then curved prettily. Still beautiful—a vulgar, servile smile.
"Sorry... Nayae forgot her place for a moment... hehe..."
"Take off your pajamas, spread your legs on the table. I'll tattoo your pretty pussy directly."
"Yes, understood."
Nayae managed a smile, stripped like shedding skin, folded neatly, and set them on the sofa. He cleared books and shelves for easy access. Sitting with legs spread, he applied numbing cream to her protruding labia majora. Her prominently swollen clitoris caught his eye. As his fingers gently massaged the mound, her hips jerked and trembled.
"I'm gonna stamp permanent graffiti on Nayae's pussy. No one but Teacher sees you naked anyway, right?"
"Yes, doesn't matter. But please make it not hurt."
"Strong numbing cream, but needles into sensitive flesh will hurt. Still, endure it."
"Ugh... okay..."
Her fear focused solely on pain. Utterly indifferent to her body being irreversibly ruined. Yuchan loved her broken state.
"Sex after it's done."
"Really?"
Her sulky pout brightened. He'd never allowed vaginal penetration even once. She craved it more than he did. With her last moral qualms shattered, it was the ultimate reward.
"F-finish quick, please."
Nayae spread wider for his convenience and squeezed her eyes shut. Proof of total submission. Satisfactory.