Through the Glass
Behind her came the sound of Jae-hyuk drawing a breath. The palm resting at the small of her back seized the fabric of her coat.
Before that breath could become words, Ha-yoon spoke first.
"Me."
It was the same pitch she used to voice dissent in a conference room, and she was ashamed of her own voice. The man in the white shirt looked not at her face but down at the stockinged knees emerging from beneath the hem of her coat.
"Then the dog takes off her shoes and comes in on her knees. The Guardian walks."
Jae-hyuk's hand fell away from her waist. From the threshold inward, the floor was white tile. If she knelt there, she felt certain the woman who had pressed the doorbell with her own hand moments ago would never walk back out through this door. A cold sweat broke out on the nape of her neck, yet her cunt inside her panties swelled hot instead.
Ha-yoon removed her heels and handed her coat to Jae-hyuk. He draped it over his arm and picked up her shoes, the way he had taken her briefcase the night before. When she knelt at the doorway, the hem of her knit dress slid up over her thighs. Moving one knee at a time across the threshold, she felt the chill of the tile rise through the thin stockings.
Past a short covered passage and over one more threshold lay the lobby. In front of what had once been a hotel front desk, a man turned and looked at Ha-yoon's rigidly upright spine.
"Hands on the floor."
Ha-yoon pressed her palms to the tile. On all fours, her back bowed and her hips rose, and the back hem of the dress lifted. To Jae-hyuk following behind, her panties inside the stockings would be in full view—the center of them clinging in the exact shape of her wet cunt.
The man in the white shirt opened the door to a room beside the lobby, and Ha-yoon crawled in on all fours ahead of Jae-hyuk. It was a room with three sofas and a wall of floor-to-ceiling glass.
The man left with nothing more than a word to Jae-hyuk—that they would go down to the basement showroom at eleven. A man in a brown coat, already waiting, gave Jae-hyuk no more than a nod, and Jae-hyuk's answering nod was awkward, as if the face were unfamiliar to him too.
The brown coat's gaze dropped once to Ha-yoon on the floor, then went straight back to the glass. At the sight of a woman crawling in on all fours, his face did not change in the slightest. Under that indifferent glance, Ha-yoon felt her nipples stiffen inside her dress.
Jae-hyuk sat down at the end of a sofa and patted the cushion beside him with his palm. Ha-yoon stared at that cushion for a long while—then crawled on all fours to the glass and knelt on the floor instead.
One floor beneath the glass was the training yard. Along a great circle drawn in white lines, a naked woman was circling on all fours. Bleached short hair; silver rings swinging from both nipples. A thin chain running from her collar was wound around the left hand of a woman in black work clothes.
The sound came only through the ceiling speakers. The swish of the chain, the drag of knees and palms over the mat. The same sounds as in the video she had watched alone before dawn a few months ago.
"Too slow."
The woman in work clothes's voice arrived through the speakers a beat late, and the four-legged woman quickened her pace. Between the retreating cheeks of her ass, the bare lips of her cunt flashed into view.
Ha-yoon was frightened. Though the chain stayed slack the entire time, the woman on all fours never strayed so much as a handspan outside the circle. With every step, only her ringed nipples swayed.
When the woman in work clothes stopped, the four-legged woman sat too, pressing her haunches against the side of that heel. She did not raise her head; she watched only the tips of the trainer's fingers. Ha-yoon looked down at her own two hands gathered in her lap. Beneath them, the crotch of her stockings clung to her cunt, damp.
A little before eleven, the man in the white shirt opened the door again.
"We're going down. You walk the stairs. Your Guardian will hold you."
Jae-hyuk gathered coat and shoes into one arm and supported Ha-yoon by the elbow. Down the two flights, only the fingers gripping her elbow tightened and loosened, tightened and loosened. At the bottom of the stairs, when Jae-hyuk let go, Ha-yoon knelt again on the spot. The arousal soaked into the crotch of her stockings had gone cold.
In the showroom, light fell only on a low circular stage at the center. Five or six owners sat on the low sofa ringing it. The floor before the back wall, where the stairs ended, stood one step higher than the stage side. Kneeling before that wall, Ha-yoon could still see the stage head-on over the backs of the sofas, and Jae-hyuk stood at her right.
By the time the stage light reached the wall it had scattered to a faint glow—faint enough that from the stage, this side would be invisible.
The woman in work clothes came up holding the lead, and at the foot of the stage steps the man in the white shirt said quietly:
"Mio. Up."
The four-legged woman climbed the stage alone and sat in the middle of it. Mio. The black letters inked at the small of her back could not be read from the wall. The silver in her ears, her eyebrow, her navel glittered in the stage light along with the rings at her nipples.
A man rose from the sofa and stepped onto the stage. He stood facing this wall and undid the front of his trousers, and Mio moved in on her knees and knelt before him. To Ha-yoon there was only Mio's back and the pale back of her head. His cock was hidden behind it.
The back of her head began to move. The wet sound of a cock being sucked carried across the quiet showroom. The man took a fistful of Mio's hair.
"Tongue."
The back of Mio's head began to sway slowly from side to side instead of back and forth. The man sucked in a short breath and stopped, her head pulled hard against him. When he stepped back, Mio turned her face in profile toward the sofas, mouth open—showing the cum pooled on her tongue—then swallowed.
It was a scant ten steps from between the sofas to the stage. How many crawls on her knees until she reached that light—somewhere along the way, Ha-yoon realized she was counting. Counting, she grew afraid.
Her knees, pressed to the hard floor, had gone numb, and the numbness climbed her thighs and knotted somewhere near her cunt. Ha-yoon caught her own tongue moving inside her mouth and pressed her lips tightly shut.
When the second man came up, Mio dropped to all fours without being told. From the wall it was her profile: sagging breasts and the rings hanging from them, her rump lifted. The man knelt behind her, gripped her hips, and drove his cock in, and Mio's neck arched back.
The sound of flesh striking flesh came slow at first, then fast. Jae-hyuk's hand settled on top of Ha-yoon's head. The palm neither stroked nor gripped; it only rested there, and it was damp with sweat. With that hand resting on her head, Ha-yoon watched the cock sliding in and out of Mio's cunt gleam in the stage light.
The man brought his palm down hard on Mio's ass.
Smack!
Mio's ass jolted, then rose high again, as if to take the cock deeper. Someone on the sofa said with a laugh:
"Look at that bitch—she's already dripping everywhere."
To Ha-yoon it sounded as though the words had been said about her own crotch. Her arousal had spread inside her stockings all the way to her inner thighs. She pressed her hips down onto her heels, her wet cunt, stockings and all, crushed against the heel.
At the end, the second man pulled out and stroked himself with his own hand, spilling into the hollow at the small of Mio's back. The white pool of cum gleamed in the stage light. Mio bent her back deeper so none of it would run, and waited.
When the third man came up, Jae-hyuk's hand was no longer on her head. She had not noticed it leave. From the darkness at her right came the sound of Jae-hyuk swallowing. When she turned her head a little, she could just make out the knuckles of the hand clutching her pair of heels together, pale in the scattered stage light.
The third man took a short grip on Mio's chain, hauled her to the edge on the wall side, and clipped it to a ring in the floor. The chain was short; Mio was tethered at the edge of the stage, face bowed low. Behind her, the man pressed his palm down on the cum-pooled small of her back as he drove into her.
With every thrust the short chain rattled against the ring. With Mio sunk down onto her elbows, her nipple rings dragged along the stage floor. Her mouth was half open, her eyes open—and those eyes turned toward the darkness, toward the wall where Ha-yoon knelt.
Ha-yoon knew there was no way she could be seen. Even so, unable to tear herself from those eyes, she rubbed her cunt once against her heel. On her right knee, a run snicked through her stocking.
The third man held Mio's ass pulled tight against him for a long moment, stopped, then withdrew. The man in the white shirt unclipped the chain from the ring and set a stainless steel bowl down beside Mio.
Mio turned her body toward the bowl and lifted one leg high and out to the side. Along the inside of the raised leg, a pale streak showed where the cum had run down. From between her spread lips came a stream of piss.
The sound arrived first. A high, thin ring off the empty stainless steel that turned dully lower as the bowl filled. The smell reached the wall only much later. Faint, warm, sour.
Ha-yoon's stomach turned. Bitter saliva gathered in her mouth. And in the same instant she squeezed her thighs with all her strength, and between those clenched thighs her cunt beat in time with her pulse.
Whatever thought she reached for slipped out of her grasp. Only the high ring of the bowl stayed in her ears.
From the far side of the sofa, another man said:
"That's what we all came to see, isn't it—the leg lift."
From the sofa directly before the stage, someone answered:
"Mouth, throat, cunt—she takes it all, and now she even pisses. Wash her all you like, that one's no use to anyone anymore."
A few laughs followed. Onstage, only then did Mio slowly lower the leg she had been holding up.
The stage lights dimmed and the ceiling lights came on. The man in the white shirt came down from the stage, threaded between the sofas, and walked up to the wall. He looked at her right knee with its run, then spoke to Jae-hyuk.
"Guardian, put her shoes on her and take her home."
Ha-yoon rose with a hand braced on the wall, and Jae-hyuk set down the coat and crouched. The fingertips that held her ankle as he slipped her shoes back on trembled a little. He picked the coat up off the floor and draped it over her shoulders. Standing, Ha-yoon felt her swollen lips meet and slide against each other inside her stockings, beneath the coat.
In the car home, Jae-hyuk only drove. He did not even turn on the radio. At every light, his fingers twitched on the gearshift. The front of his trousers, lit by the dashboard glow, had been tenting since they left the kennel, and Ha-yoon stole glance after glance at it.
On the phone in her lap, the map from the text Jae-hyuk had sent her that afternoon was still open. Ha-yoon sat pressing her wet panties against the seat beneath the hem of her dress. At every speed bump, the damp fabric pushed up between her fevered lips.
The sensor light came on in the Yeonhui-dong entryway. While Jae-hyuk bent to take off his shoes, Ha-yoon kicked hers off, let the coat slide from her shoulders onto the entry floor, and stepped up onto the hardwood first, kneeling at its edge. Jae-hyuk's belt buckle was before her eyes, him standing on the entry floor one step below. Ha-yoon undid the buckle.
"Ha-yoon."
Instead of answering, she drew down the zipper. She tugged his underwear low, and a half-hard cock sprang free. Ha-yoon took the head into her mouth and laved the underside with her tongue. He hardened quickly inside her mouth.
Jae-hyuk's hands hovered in the air a moment, then found the edge of the shoe cabinet. His voice came out cracked.
"Here…?"
Ha-yoon bobbed her head over just the half of him, not taking him to the root. It was the pace the pale head onstage had moved at. His cock, slick with her saliva, slid in and out between her lips.
One of Jae-hyuk's hands left the shoe cabinet and came to rest on top of Ha-yoon's head. As at the wall behind the showroom, it only rested there. Beneath that palm, Ha-yoon pressed her tongue flat along the shaft and took him deeper once more.
The sensor light went out. Ha-yoon released him from her mouth, turned, and crawled on all fours toward the living room. Behind her, Jae-hyuk shook off his half-removed shoes and followed. He switched on the floor lamp beside the sofa.
On the rug, Ha-yoon pulled her dress off over her head and undid her bra clasp herself. She rolled her pantyhose and panties down together and worked them off over her ankles. The crotch, soaked through with her arousal, dropped to the edge of the rug turned inside out.
Naked, she set her palms and knees to the rug. The lamplight fell slantwise across her back and ass. Between her parted thighs, her wet cunt went cool in the living-room air.
"Do it like I'm a dog."
Jae-hyuk's answer was slow in coming. Only after a long moment did he ask from behind her:
"Should I bring the choker?"
"No. Just do it."
Ha-yoon answered and lifted her hips another handspan. The red leather in the second-floor drawer flickered through her mind, then was swallowed at once by the black collar at Mio's neck onstage. From her spread cunt, a single drop of arousal fell to the rug.
Jae-hyuk's jacket dropped onto the sofa; his trousers came off at his ankles. The rug gave under his weight as he knelt behind her. His cockhead parted her lips, caught at her entrance, then filled her slowly to the base.
"Tell me if it hurts."
Jae-hyuk withdrew slowly and entered slowly. One palm stroked up and down her spine. With his usual tender touch, his cock too moved carefully within her.
"Nobody treats a dog like that."
Jae-hyuk's hips stopped. The hands gripping her hips tightened, and the next thrust came hard. The flesh of her ass struck his lower belly and shuddered, and his cock shoved against her inner walls all at once.
The slap of flesh rose to the living-room ceiling. Her heavy breasts swayed with every thrust. Her knees, already punished on the kennel tile, stung as they dragged against the rug's weave.
Jae-hyuk, panting, opened his mouth.
"This bit—"
The word broke off there. He never finished it. His hands spread her cheeks apart and dug in, and his cock drove in harder. Through the parted flesh, the living-room air reached all the way to her anus.
"Does our puppy like it?"
Without a word, Ha-yoon lifted her ass higher and took him. At the word puppy, the bleached back of Mio's head rose in her mind.
With his cock buried to the base, Jae-hyuk slid his hand up her spine. It crossed her shoulder blades to her nape, his fingers burrowed into the hair at the back of her head, and closed around a fistful of it.
He pulled.
Ha-yoon's head tipped back. Her scalp stung, and the sting ran down her spine straight into her cunt. Around the cock buried in her, she clenched tight.
"Harder. Pull."
Jae-hyuk began to wind her hair around his fingers once more—then let go. His fingers opened one by one, and her hair slid free. He smoothed her tangled hair back with his palm, and the cock inside her slowed along with it.
Beneath that palm, Ha-yoon closed her eyes. Jae-hyuk was dear to her, and that hand was hateful. She pushed her hips back, making up from her side whatever he had slowed, and his cock buried itself to the end of her again.
Jae-hyuk stopped moving altogether. Only the hands resting on her hips remained. Ha-yoon slammed her own body against his stillness. Each time her ass struck his pubic bone, her lips were crushed and spread against his base, and her arousal ran down the insides of her thighs.
"Ha-yoon, slow—"
Ha-yoon did not slow. She seized the rug's pile in both fists and drove her hips back faster, harder, taking his cock.
In her head she heard the bowl. The high, thin ring against empty stainless steel, the duller note as it filled, Mio's raised leg. While that sound rang, the cock drove deep into her cunt.
Ha-yoon went over. Her elbow buckled once; she pushed off the rug with her palm and braced it again. Deep inside, her cunt convulsed in a long spasm around his cock. Not small and quick, the way it always was on Friday nights in bed.
Her thighs shook and her toes curled into the rug. A long moan leaked out of her open mouth.
Gripping her trembling ass, Jae-hyuk drove in deep one last time and pulled out. Behind her came the quick sound of flesh being stroked, and then hot cum spattered onto the hollow at the small of her back. Exactly what the second man onstage had done.
"Don't move. It'll run."
Jae-hyuk went off toward the bathroom. Ha-yoon stayed on all fours, arching her back so the cooling cum would not run down her side, and waited. Her spread cunt still quivered. She liked the waiting.
Jae-hyuk came back and wiped the cum from her back first with a towel, then flipped the towel and wiped between her legs. His breathing was still rough. Through the towel wiping her cunt, his fingers brushed her lips and jerked away at once.
"It scared you, didn't it?"
"Yeah."
Jae-hyuk gathered Ha-yoon up into his arms. Both her knees were scraped raw and red. He looked down at them for a long time.
Close to four in the morning, Ha-yoon's eyes opened in bed. Jae-hyuk slept with his back turned. His right hand, slipped free of the covers, lay half open on the sheet.
Her knees throbbed.
Ha-yoon turned the screen brightness to its lowest and opened the text Jae-hyuk had passed along to her.
At the very end, a single phone number.
When she pressed and held the number, a save-to-contacts menu came up. Ha-yoon rested her thumb on it for a long moment before lifting it away. Her thumb drifted up toward the trash icon at the top of the message window—and stopped there, too.
Without saving the number, without deleting the message, Ha-yoon turned off the screen.