The Bitch's Little Brother
The little brother of that dog of a bitch.
"This isn't what we agreed on."
"That's true, but... Ma'am, with a man his size, this was the only way to take him."
"Fine. Go up to the first floor — my secretary will be waiting. Collect your money and get out."
"Thank you, Ma'am. If you ever need anything else, we're always—"
The idle chatter of voices slowly pulled his consciousness back up from the depths. He forced strength into his heavy eyelids, and blurry shapes swam into view.
Mmmgh....
But something far more jarring shook his groggy mind awake — the sensation that his limbs wouldn't move. The moment he came to, Seongjun looked around.
Wh... what is this?
His whole body was strapped tight against a wall. To be exact, he was bound with his arms and legs splayed in an X shape, and the only part of him with any freedom at all was his head. Even that didn't help much — a gag between his teeth made the simple act of breathing a struggle.
Mmph... mmph!
Gradually his surroundings sharpened into focus. Under the dim glow of lights — fluorescent or LED, he couldn't tell — everything he saw looked drained of color, almost black and white. The wall he was pinned to reeked of rough raw cement, and far across the room he could make out iron bars, like something out of a prison.
What... where the hell am I?
There was no way to voice the question. All he could do was moan through the gag as he chewed at it. And the low, ceaseless hum of the place only dredged up the fear pooling underneath. Hands and feet bound, bars right in front of him — this was, nine times out of ten, a kidnapping.
Ugh!
A jolt of pain flared across the back of his skull, and the memory surfaced — last night, behind a lounge bar, when a group of strangers had cornered him and struck up conversation. It had to be them. They'd taken him. And looking closer, he could see a small toilet sitting beside the wall he was tied to. The sight of it made the fear real. There was even something horribly familiar about the place, like one of those old intelligence-agency interrogation rooms he'd seen in the movies.
Am I seriously kidnapped? Why...?
Twenty-four years of life, and he'd never done anything seriously wrong. He'd never hurt a soul, never scammed anyone out of a single won. Which meant that if he really had been taken, there had to be some kind of mistake.
Nngh! Nngh!
He strained, but his body refused to budge an inch. Then he caught a faint darkness shifting beyond the bars, and panic seized him in a cold wave. His own muffled cries echoing off the concrete only magnified the terror with every repetition. If no answer came, if no one appeared, he honestly felt like he might black out on the spot.
Just as he was thrashing in this first taste of true panic, a woman's voice drifted over from beyond that faint darkness.
"Hello there? Lee Seongjun."
It was like jade beads rolling across a silver tray. With that soft, honeyed voice, a human silhouette began to emerge from the darkness far across the room.
"It really has been forever, Seongjun~"
Click, click — with each tap of her heels, the dim silhouette took on its full shape.
"You've grown so much, really. You even did your military service — you've gotten even more handsome, haven't you?"
She wore an H-line high-waisted skirt set off against a white blouse, and the sheer fabric strained to contain the swelling volume beneath it. Add to that straight hair rippling down to her waist, a face so pale it might have glinted in sunlight, and fine, delicately ordered features.
"Do you remember me? Lee Seongjun."
Remember her? How could he possibly forget. Back in the old days, in middle school, he'd been too young to know any better — he'd liked her, pitied her. He'd even secretly imagined burying his face in those breasts of hers. Clang — the iron bars swung open.
Mmph... mmph...!
"You probably can't remember me, though. All I ever did was hand you a gym uniform or some supplies you'd forgotten, then run off."
No — he remembered. With perfect clarity. He'd tried, more than once, to thank her for it, but every time she'd be gone in a blink, off at the speed of light. And what comfort would a word of thanks have been to her anyway?
Thinking about it now, maybe he'd been something worse back then — an accomplice. A bystander who let the bullies torment her.
"Right now your head must be spinning, and you're dying to know. You're scared too, aren't you? Why you've been locked up in a place like this."
Confused and curious, yes — that much was true. But it was equally true that his heart was hammering at insane RPMs. Choi Jian. The woman he'd wondered about all these years, ached to see again, was alive right in front of his eyes.
"I'm sure you've figured it out from the situation... but Seongjun, you've been kidnapped."
She turned toward the bars and drew something out: a cigarette case in gleaming white platinum. She slid out a single long, slender cigarette and pressed the filter between her crimson lips. A moment later, with a soft whoosh of the lighter, the rich scent of smoke curled into the air.
"Haaaah... I never graduated from Eunsung Arts High School. I endured it for over three years, and in the end I never got that diploma. And it was all because of your precious big sister, Lee Wonyoung."
Ever since she'd appeared, some part of him had already pieced together the reason. Listening in silence, Seongjun forced his tongue, twisted against the gag, aside and swallowed a dry breath.
Tap — she let the cigarette fall and ground it out beneath her stiletto heel. Then she started walking toward him, click-clack, her eyes fixed on his face.
"You know, don't you? Some part of you has already guessed. Why I kidnapped you and brought you here."
She leaned in close, tilting her flushed face up toward his. It was the first time he'd ever been this near her. Maybe it was the dim lighting, but her skin looked so polished that not a single pore showed.
Then the warmth in her expression curdled into fury. Frowning, she swept up the bangs on one side of her forehead — and there it was: a scar, running in a hard vertical line.
"See it? Second year of high school, your sister took a piano tuning wrench to me and made this."
And then she began peeling off the white blouse. An enormous bra came into view — and then, without a flicker of hesitation, she bared the full, heavy breasts it had been holding.
"See it? The tattoo, right here."
Pale skin and huge breasts. But in stark contrast to that flawless skin, grotesque scars marked her body everywhere. And beneath the massive swell of her chest sat crooked but unmistakable black letters.
IN-HEAT
BITCH
Every stroke of it needled in, letter by letter, etched vividly into the underside of her breast.
"Back in high school, the orphanage I grew up in didn't even have a proper shower. Because of this goddamn tattoo, I couldn't set foot in a public bathhouse even in the dead of winter."
On the coldest days of the year, she said, she would huddle her body into the smallest possible shape and wash in that cramped toilet stall instead. Confronted with a cruelty this real — seeing it with his own eyes — Seongjun couldn't even force out a breath.
"I dropped out of school, and I went and made money. And I succeeded — spectacularly. And even now, I still haven't erased this hideous tattoo. Want to know why?"
Jian brought her face right up to his as she said it. Her voice was nothing like the image he'd carried of her all these years — it was richer, darker, steeped in something ripe.
"Because the more I think about it... I really am a bitch in heat... heh."
Seongjun's eyes darted side to side. The reality of his kidnapping, and the fact that the woman behind it was her, had his emotions lurching wildly. Fear, rage, pity — and arousal. Heat flooded through his whole body at the feelings crashing over him all at once.
"Ahahahaha~ Don't look so shocked, Seongjun... Kidding. Just kidding. Ahaha..."
She began buttoning her blouse again. Even in the middle of all this, the sight of her tucking those enormous breasts back into her bra was dizzying to watch.
"I'm sure you can tell from where you're sitting, but you're going to be staying here for a while."
Jian toyed with his earlobe and let her voice drop. Beneath the calm, almost tender cadence ran a current of fury aimed at someone.
"And... you're going to go through everything I went through. Every last bit of it, exactly the same."
Reunited after ten years, and this was her greeting — a warning that chilled him to the marrow. Seongjun could understand her rage. But one question kept nagging at him. Why me, of all people? Wasn't revenge supposed to land on the person who actually did it?
"Ah... right. You're wondering, aren't you? Why you, and not that bitch Wonyoung?"
Her hands grew bolder, more deliberate. The fingers that had been teasing his earlobe stroked down along his cheek and jaw, then trailed along the side of his neck toward his chest. Then she pressed her lips right up against his ear and whispered, low and intimate.
"Because you're Wonyoung's one and only treasure."
Jian said it slowly. That she was going to break Wonyoung's treasure, bit by bit. And that she would capture every second of it on video and send it straight to his sister.
"I'll make you eat your meals off the floor like a dog! I'll brand cigarette burns all over that body of yours, and I'll slam a piano lid down on those fingers of yours and crush them until they snap!"
She'd slap his cheeks every single day, pinch and squeeze his chest, kick him in the stomach, and tap her cigarette ash straight into his mouth. Jian screamed that she would pay back every single thing that had been done to her through all her school years — to the letter.
"Your sister ruined my life. You get that?! You — the little brother of that dog of a bitch!"
Her face was shadowed with something he couldn't name — fury or grief, or both at once — as she came toward him. Then she wrapped her arms around his torso and squeezed tight, her voice melting into something openly sensual.
"And as for me..."
Through the roughness of her breathing he could feel her full breasts crushing against him, that soft, yielding weight passing into his body undiluted.
"Seongjun, I'm going to devour you. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes — filthy and obscene, every last inch of you, down to your smallest finger."
And then came the naked threat: all of it would be caught on video and sent straight to his sister. Seongjun's body trembled the way any kidnapping victim's would. With one exception — his cock was hard as hell.