The Leash in Another Man's Hand
Jae-hyuk's fingers let go of the leather handle one by one.
At half past eight on Wednesday evening, Ha-yoon was down on all fours on the lobby tile, looking up at that hand. The Owner stood before Jae-hyuk with his palm turned upward, waiting in silence for it to be filled.
The blouse and suit skirt she'd worn home from work, her stockings and underwear, were already tucked inside a plastic basket. The black collar had been buckled back on moments ago by Soo-rin; the ID tag hanging beneath her throat swayed, brushing cold against the bare skin of her chest.
When only his thumb was left, Jae-hyuk's eyes came down to Ha-yoon. As she had Saturday night in the training room, Ha-yoon nodded once.
Jae-hyuk's thumb let go. As the handle passed into the Owner's palm the chain swayed, and the sway ran down the collar ring all the way to her collarbone. Ha-yoon's pussy clenched tight.
It took only seconds for the leash to pass from her husband's hand into another man's. Even though she was the one who had nodded, fear filled her throat first.
"Wait."
Only after the words were out did Ha-yoon hear her own voice. Instead of answering, the Owner merely turned his head toward Soo-rin beside the front desk.
Soo-rin came over and took the chain in a short grip, a handspan below the collar ring, drawing it up over her collarbone. Keeping that hold, she led Ha-yoon to the wall beside the Owner's desk, Ha-yoon scurrying after on knees and palms, her sagging breasts swinging back and forth.
"Sit."
Ha-yoon knelt and settled back onto her heels. When Soo-rin pushed her shoulders, her bare buttocks met the wall; it was cold, and Ha-yoon drew in a breath.
Soo-rin pushed her knees apart to shoulder width. As her thighs parted, her wet folds were bared to the lobby light.
"The only things out of your mouth are 'yes' and barking — those two, nothing else. If you want to quit, answer with your real name. You heard that Saturday."
"Yes."
Soo-rin released the chain and went back to lean against the front desk. The Owner had by then taken the chair behind the desk; the leash fell between Ha-yoon's breasts, lay across the tile, and ran on to his hand. He rested his left hand, handle still in it, on the desk and turned the pages of a file with his right.
Only the rustle of turning paper sounded in the lobby. Somewhere among those pages, for all she knew, was the Admission Agreement bearing her signature. Instead of the file, Ha-yoon watched the thin steel line that ran from the edge of the desk to her own throat.
Jae-hyuk stood beside the chair in front of the desk — the chair where, four days ago, Ha-yoon had sat and written her name. His empty hand, the leash gone from it, clenched and unclenched at his side. His gaze dropped between the spread knees of the woman sitting against the wall, then moved to the desk's edge.
Jae-hyuk took a step toward the wall. Soo-rin, arms crossed where she leaned against the front desk, spoke to him.
"Guardian, you're making the dog wait right now."
Jae-hyuk stopped. His empty hand went into his jacket pocket. Ha-yoon didn't pull away from the wall by so much as an inch — and because her husband's hand never came, the space between her spread thighs only grew wetter.
Minutes passed and the Owner never lifted his eyes from the documents. He held the leash as if he'd forgotten what hung at the end of it. At that indifference, Ha-yoon's nipples went hard.
Between her spread knees there was nothing but cold tile, not even a mat. Cold air seeped into her open pussy as she sat on her heels, and the colder it felt, the hotter she grew inside.
I'll keep my mouth shut today.
Even as she made the vow, the words she'd swallowed kept rolling under her tongue. Wait — that leash. Ha-yoon gritted her teeth. The folds pressed against her heels were slick.
The Owner closed the file and rose. As the hand holding the handle lifted, the chain lying across the tile rose with it, and before the collar ring could be dragged, Ha-yoon planted her hands and moved.
At the stairs Soo-rin slipped a hand under her arms and stood her up. The Owner went down a step ahead, leash in hand, Jae-hyuk following two steps behind. At the bottom Ha-yoon went down onto her hands again, and Soo-rin passed first through the training room door.
The basement kennel corridor stretched long and deep past the training room door. Steel cages lined one wall, each stall fitted with a floor mat and a water bowl; a few of the cage doors had nameplates slotted above them.
Every cage she passed stood empty. Only the one midway down, marked [P-08] above its door, showed a mat pressed flat on one side and water half gone from its bowl.
The Owner walked at her left, handle in hand, matching her pace — neither ahead of her nor behind. The chain curved in a shallow arc from her collar ring to his hand, following without ever going taut or dragging the floor. The slack steel swayed with every step, brushing the ID tag beneath her throat, and each time the cold metal kissed her collarbone the tips of her nipples prickled.
Not knowing when or where it might be pulled, the fine hairs at her nape stood on end. The corridor floor was finished smooth, and her palms kept slipping as she crawled. Her inner thighs were slick with arousal, and two steps behind came the steady click of Jae-hyuk's dress shoes.
At the very last cage in the corridor, the Owner stopped. The nameplate slot above the cage door was empty. He opened the cage door, took out a stainless steel bowl, and set it down between Ha-yoon's hands.
"Drink."
Fear came first. The bowl Mio had filled with piss in the showroom had been stainless steel too. Before her mouth even touched it, her tongue shrank back inside.
Ha-yoon bent her elbows and lowered her face to the bowl. As her elbows went down her hips rose high, and her spread pussy opened toward Jae-hyuk behind her.
Out of habit, Ha-yoon pursed her lips to suck the water up.
"With your tongue."
Ha-yoon put out her tongue and scooped at the water. Half made it into her mouth; half ran down her chin. The lapping echoed through the empty corridor — no sound for a human mouth to make — and hearing it with her own ears made her clit throb.
She dipped her tongue again, and once more. The tip of her chin was soaked, her mouth slick. Wanting to know where the Owner was looking now, Ha-yoon straightened her arms and lifted her head.
The Owner's eyes were on her knees against the painted floor, then moved slowly up along her raised spine. Water ran from her lifted chin down her throat, soaked the collar's leather, seeped behind the ID tag, threaded between her sagging breasts, and hung dripping from her nipple tips.
"Dogs don't look at their master's face."
The Owner said it, looking down at the bowl. Ha-yoon bent her elbows again and bowed her head over it. The droplet clinging to her nipple was cold, and the tip puckered; Ha-yoon worked her tongue faster. Behind her, Jae-hyuk's breathing broke off for a moment.
She licked until the bottom of the bowl showed. When she scraped up the last mouthful, the cold steel bottom met her tongue tip. The arousal that had dripped from her pussy had run all the way down to the insides of her knees.
The Owner picked up the empty bowl, returned it to the cage, and shut the door. The latch clicked, the sound carrying far down the empty corridor. In front of the nameless cage, Ha-yoon licked her wet lips, unable to look away from that latch.
Inside the training room, Soo-rin pressed a hand to Ha-yoon's nape and steered her toward the center of the mat, her head facing away from the bench, toward the wall where the iron rings ran in a row. From one of those rings Soo-rin unhooked the black leather paddle and laid it on the floor.
Soo-rin tipped her chin toward the bench.
"Your seat is the bench, Guardian."
Jae-hyuk's footsteps receded behind her, and the bench creaked. The Owner stopped a single step in front of Ha-yoon's head, handle still in hand. Soo-rin knelt at her left side, the paddle lying beside her knee, its leather face catching the corner of Ha-yoon's eye.
Soo-rin's right hand slipped beneath her hips. Two fingers pressed either side of her folds and spread them, baring the pussy that had been wet since the corridor to the training room air.
"You leaked this much just from drinking water?"
Ha-yoon only swallowed. The only answer allowed her was a single "yes." Soo-rin's middle finger scooped the wetness at her entrance and spread it over her clit.
The fingertip rolled her clit in small circles. Not even a fingernail entered her. It circled only the edges of her folds and the rim of her clit, always swerving aside just short of her entrance, and Ha-yoon's hips tilted toward that finger all on their own.
"On Saturday you didn't come until you'd been taking the Guardian's cock a good long while. Today one finger will be enough to finish you."
Soo-rin's voice carried easily to the bench behind. The bench creaked, and the finger working her clit pressed harder. Every time the fingertip swerved away, her entrance quivered.
"Lifting your head won't save you today. Forehead to the mat."
Ha-yoon lowered onto her elbows and pressed her forehead to the mat. The smell of rubber rushed up at her. Her back tipped forward, her rear rose even higher, and the angle of Soo-rin's finger against her clit changed.
When she glanced up, the toe of the Owner's black shoe waited on the rubber just ahead. The steel line hung slack from his hand to the ring beneath her throat. The Owner stood rooted in place, handle in hand — one shuffle on her knees and her forehead would touch that shoe, and he left the distance exactly as it was.
Soo-rin's finger quickened. It rubbed her clit side to side, then stood upright and stroked her up and down. Wet sounds rose from between Ha-yoon's legs, arousal running down to pool in Soo-rin's palm.
Heat knotted deep in her lower belly. She needed permission. Ha-yoon started to lift her head, then stopped and pressed her forehead back into the mat; only her lips parted and closed.
She curled the hands braced on the mat, nails scraping the rubber as both closed into fists. An open palm struck twice against the floor was the signal to stop. Ha-yoon squeezed her fists tighter.
The finger on her clit kept the same rhythm; the two fingers holding her open stayed exactly as they were. Her thighs began to shake, the tremor running down through her knees into the mat.
Ha-yoon shook, caught a hair's breadth from the edge. Her forehead slipped where it pressed the mat. Her entrance clenched and fluttered open beneath Soo-rin's fingers, and a thin, high sound broke from her throat and escaped.
Soo-rin laid her left hand on the back of Ha-yoon's trembling left thigh. Then, before Ha-yoon could beg for anything, she spoke first.
"Come."
With her forehead pressed to the mat, Ha-yoon came. Her fisted hands shuddered, and her raised hips bounced twice above Soo-rin's hand. Her empty pussy clenched around nothing and released, hot arousal running down along Soo-rin's fingers.
Each time she shuddered, the collar ring swayed and the chain jingled toward the Owner's hand. The Owner neither pulled the leash nor gave it slack. Ha-yoon's moans were smothered against the rubber.
The bench behind her stayed quiet. Jae-hyuk would have been watching it head-on from the bench — her raised hips, Soo-rin's wet fingers.
While Ha-yoon was still trembling, Soo-rin withdrew her hand. When the fingers holding her folds open vanished, she shook alone on the mat; the place where they had been went cold at once.
When the trembling passed, her body had slumped toward her left heel, the arousal on her inner thighs cooled to a sticky film. She remembered the paddle lying beside Soo-rin's knee.
Ha-yoon lifted her slumped hips again. She spread her knees to shoulder width and bowed her spine, presenting herself high toward the ceiling. The space behind her was empty.
"There's no one back there to fuck you. Who are you offering it to?"
Even at that, Ha-yoon didn't drop the pose. Instead she turned her hips slightly to the left, toward where the paddle waited.
From beside her came the sound of the paddle being lifted. The leather face, wide as two palms, settled flat against her left buttock, and Ha-yoon pressed her flesh up into the cold surface.
The leather rested on her skin for one held beat. The permission would have been passing back and forth over her head, between the two faces she couldn't see. At last the leather lifted away.
"Three."
From the left came the stir of Soo-rin rising onto her knees, and the paddle came down on her left buttock at once.
CRACK!
Her flesh rippled first; the fire caught a beat later. Unlike a palm, the broad face landed all at once, setting the whole cheek alight. Even her clit, far from where it landed, throbbed in time.
"One. Don't drop your hips. I can see it all — your pussy fluttering while you take it."
The second landed on the right. Far behind her, the bench gave a short creak. Ha-yoon didn't clench the pussy spread toward the bench; she offered up the struck right cheek even further, and her fists on the mat tightened too.
"Two. Pushing your hips out for more while you're being hit? With your pussy spread toward your husband."
Soo-rin drew the leather once across the burning flesh. It slid down along the crease of her buttock, stopped just above her folds, then lifted away — and Ha-yoon pushed her hips back as if begging it to press there again.
The third struck low, cutting across where buttock met thigh. The leather's edge reached close enough to graze her spread folds, and Ha-yoon, face pressed into the rubber, let out a short cry, almost a scream. Her pussy clamped tight, then released, arousal spilling down her thighs.
"Three."
Something dropped beside Soo-rin's knee with a soft thud.
That was the third. All the struck flesh burned and throbbed, and Ha-yoon hated that the heat was already starting to fade.
From there, Ha-yoon hoisted her raised hips even higher. As she arched deeper, her swollen folds spread toward the bench — higher than before, high enough that her knees nearly slid across the mat.
"I said three."
Ha-yoon waited with fists clenched, her spread pussy left open toward the bench. Above her head, a beat passed empty. Then came the sound of the paddle being picked up on her left, followed by Soo-rin's foot pressing into the rubber.
The fourth was different from the sound alone. The leather face came down across both cheeks at once. Ha-yoon's body jolted forward, then her knees slid and knocked her back again.
In front of her head came the sound of the leather handle winding once around. The slack steel shortened and drew taut, the buckle at the back of her collar hauling her nape forward, and Ha-yoon's body stopped dead. The steel line held her from the front, the blazing swollen flesh from behind, and between the two she felt arousal spreading from her open pussy.
"The dog asked for the fourth, Guardian."
The Owner's voice passed over Ha-yoon's head and crossed to the bench behind her. No answer came from Jae-hyuk. Hips raised and burning, Ha-yoon listened to that silence for a long while. When the air of the training room touched her swollen flesh, the four overlapping rectangular welts flared one by one, each on its own.
When Ha-yoon lifted her forehead from the mat, she saw Soo-rin hanging the paddle back on its wall ring. The Owner turned toward the door with the leash, and Ha-yoon started after him on all fours. Behind her the bench creaked once more, and then Jae-hyuk's footsteps followed, several paces back; each time she shifted her knees, the swollen flesh of her buttocks pulled tight.
When she came back up the stairs and set her hands on the lobby tile again, a thin, dried film of cooled arousal clung to her inner thighs. From the basket, her stockings — still bunched — poked out.
Soo-rin pushed the basket in front of Ha-yoon's hands. There was still no order to dress.
The Owner stood before Jae-hyuk and held out the hand gripping the handle. Ha-yoon raised her head and looked up — not at their faces, but at the hand.
Jae-hyuk rubbed his palm clean on his trousers and took the handle. The chain swayed and grazed her collarbone. Even holding the handle, Jae-hyuk's fingers stayed loose for a long moment.
"Is it mine?"
Jae-hyuk's voice was stiff. The Owner took his empty hand to his shirt cuff and folded the rolled sleeve once more.
"For now."