The Second Collar
The next morning.
The air in the lecture hall was no different from usual, but the view in front of me had changed completely from the day before. I sat in the very last row, chin propped on my hand, and watched Yura's back as she sat up front.
Today she was wearing a thin turtleneck that climbed uncomfortably high up her throat — an outfit completely wrong for the weather, the kind that would have anyone sweating through the fabric. I knew exactly why. Beneath that scrap of cloth, a black leather choker was cinched around her pale neck.
Good girl. That's my pet.
Last night's contract had not been some one-off stunt. She had worn the collar to campus, exactly as ordered. With every breath, the leather tightening around her throat reminded her who she belonged to. She was carrying out my will to the letter.
The front door of the lecture hall slid open and Jisu walked in. Dressed in a crisp white blouse befitting a student council president, she held a thick textbook against her chest. She scanned the room out of habit, and our eyes met.
"......!"
Jisu flinched and jerked her gaze away. But her feet carried her toward me — toward us — as if a magnet had hold of her. She set her bag down in the seat right beside Yura.
"Hey, Yura. You're here early."
"Oh... unnie. You made it."
Yura returned the greeting with an awkward smile. Jisu's eyes drifted to Yura's throat. A turtleneck in this weather. Her face said she didn't get it.
"Aren't you dying? You're going to break out in a heat rash. Why the turtleneck?"
"Ah... it's nothing. I think I might be coming down with a sore throat... the air conditioning, you know."
Yura tugged her collar higher in a hurry, rushing the excuse out. A lie. Jisu's eyes narrowed; she could tell something was off. But she didn't push. She had more than enough secrets of her own involving me that she couldn't speak of.
I spent the entire lecture admiring the two of them from behind. One, a slave sold for a hundred million won, wearing a collar. The other, a slave whose weakness I had held — and who had then surrendered herself to me of her own will. The perverse thrill of that bizarre triangle was turning a dead lecture into the most entertaining trash drama I had ever watched.
When class ended, students poured out in a noisy rush for lunch. I packed my bag at my own pace, stood, and flicked a look at the two women.
Follow me.
I didn't need to say it. Yura and Jisu glanced at each other and quietly fell in behind me.
We headed for a deserted corner of the campus parking lot. A black Mercedes S-Class sat waiting, heavy and imposing, flaunting its owner's stature.
"Get in."
I pressed the fob. A beep, and the locks popped open. Both women climbed into the back seat like they had done it a hundred times. This car was no longer just a way to get around. It was our private chamber — a kingdom on wheels.
I dropped into the driver's seat, left the engine off, and turned around. I hadn't touched the air conditioning either. The interior was already growing thick and warm.
"Campus treating you all right?"
"......Yeah."
"Yes..."
I smirked at the way their voices shrank.
"Yura. It's hot. Why don't you take that off? You're sweating."
I jerked my chin at her turtleneck.
"Here...?"
Yura flicked a glance at Jisu. Jisu still had no idea about the slave contract.
"What? You want to keep it a secret from her? She's going to find out anyway. We said no secrets between us."
I smiled — gently, with no room to refuse.
"Take it off. Let's show it off a little. It's a hundred-million-won piece."
Yura let out a resigned breath and slowly peeled the neck of her shirt down. Fabric whispered. The black leather choker wrapped around her white throat was laid completely bare. The silver ring set in the center caught the sunlight pouring into the car and flashed cold.
"Hah..."
Jisu clapped a hand over her mouth. It was far too explicit to pass as a fashion accessory — a choker cut like an SM collar, a dog collar, nothing else. The fact that she had worn it to school, during a lecture no less, was a shock all by itself.
"You... that... are you insane?"
"Pretty, isn't it? I gave it to her last night. To commemorate our Yura signing a hundred-million-won contract. A special gift from her master."
A crooked smile pulled at my mouth as I reached out and slowly toyed with the choker around Yura's neck. She looked mortified, but she sat still and took my hand without a word of protest.
"A hundred million...?"
Confusion and disbelief crossed Jisu's face at the same time.
"You already know Yura's family was in rough shape. Debt collectors at the door, the whole circus. So I decided to be generous. A hundred million."
I held Jisu's eyes and didn't let go.
"In exchange, Yura agreed to become my exclusive. Legally. Physically. She is my property now. Completely."
"......!"
Jisu's eyes went wide.
"Show her, Yura. Who you belong to. Prove it."
Yura rose from her seat in an awkward crouch, her head nearly brushing the ceiling. She unzipped her skirt and turned her ass toward Jisu. She tugged her underwear down just enough, and the black lettering written across the plump curve of her left cheek came into sharp, unmistakable view.
Jisu sucked in a breath. Permanent marker, written straight onto skin. A full day later and the brand still hadn't faded. The thing itself was a shock.
"You're insane... you're actually insane... how could you do something like this..."
Jisu muttered it under her breath. But her eyes never left Yura's ass. Disgust? No. What lived in that stare was a secret craving to be owned — jealousy of that unmistakable proof she didn't have. A warped, twisted hunger: I want to belong to him that completely too.
"Well? Jealous?"
I hit the nerve dead-on.
"W-what are you talking about! Who would be jealous of that! That's just crazy!"
"Your face says otherwise. I want one too. I want to be Park Dohun's exclusive too... It's written all over you."
I caught her hand and held it. Her palm was damp.
"That's why I prepared something. A special gift. Just for you."
I tossed the shopping bag from the passenger seat into the back.
"Open it."
Jisu opened the bag with trembling fingers. Tissue paper rustled. Inside was a black leather choker of the exact same design as Yura's. The only difference was the ring in the center — gold instead of silver. Richer than silver. More luxurious. Gold.
"What... is this..."
"A matching set. Couples' items, with Yura. Or a trio, I suppose."
I smiled.
"You didn't sell yourself for money, but you're the only accomplice who shares my secrets. And more than that — you're a woman I care about far too much. I thought gold would suit you better."
"Dohun..."
"Once you put this on, the three of us are truly one. Yura, you, me. All in the same boat."
I drew her in gently, with no way out.
"I'll make sure trash like Gang Minho can never put a mark on you again. Stay inside my fence. I put my life on the line for what's mine."
Jisu wrestled with herself. A choker. A slave's mark. A dog collar. And at the same time, proof that she belonged to Park Dohun — a predator with real teeth. She was already leaning on me. On my money, my power, and the pleasure I gave her. Fastening that collar around her own throat would feel like the only way out of the fear.
She looked at Yura. Yura was already wearing a choker, branded on the ass — and somehow she looked at peace. Like a ship that had finally dropped anchor in a violent sea, she had found rest in the shade of her master.
Jisu drew the choker out, her mind made up. Cold leather touched her fingertips. With shaking hands, she wrapped it around her own pale throat.
Click.
The buckle snapping shut sounded like shackles locking into place — or like a bell of salvation.
"It looks good on you, Jisu."
I smiled, satisfied. Two campus goddesses sat side by side in the back seat, each wearing a choker — one silver ring, one gold — gazing up at their master with shy, hungry eyes. Two beautiful pets. Was there a more perfect, more decadent picture than this?
"All right. Now that you're both ready... time for an initiation, don't you think?"
The driver's seat whirred back. I folded the passenger seat completely flat, opening the space in front of me wide.
"Come here. I'll make you feel good."
"......"
The two women looked at each other. Who went first. Yura checked Jisu's face — deference to her senior, or a little territorial instinct? Jisu hesitated too, just as aware of Yura. A quiet rank war between a hundred-million-won slave and a volunteer.
"What are you waiting for? Your master is sitting here. Can't you see how hard I am?"
At the push, Yura started to shift forward. Jisu grabbed her arm in a rush.
"I'll... I'll go first."
Jisu wanted my recognition. The competitive need not to lose to Yura, and the hunger to have me to herself, moved her. She wanted to prove what the gold ring meant — that she was mine.
"Good. Come here. Let's see what our president can do."
Jisu climbed into the front and knelt between my legs. In the cramped car her scent hit me all at once. She unzipped my pants with careful fingers.
Ziiip. Thwap.
"Nnh!"
My cock, pent up and furious, sprang free like a coil and slapped her pale cheek. She squeezed her eyes shut and flinched at the blow she hadn't seen coming. Only for a second. Then, as if she had decided something, her red lips parted and she slowly leaned in.
"Slurp..."
She took me into her mouth. A warm, wet tongue wrapped around me. The gold ring of her choker brushed my thigh, a cold kiss of metal. That alien contrast felt sinfully good.
Yura watched, biting her lip. Jealousy? The fear of having me taken from her? Both, most likely.
"Yura. Don't just sit there. You've got a hundred million won's worth of work to do."
At my call she lunged forward as if she had been waiting for it and squeezed in beside Jisu. Two mouths. Two tongues. Different temperatures working my cock at the same time. Jisu took the shaft down deep; Yura licked softly at the head.
"Lick, lick, slurp..."
"Hnn..."
A current shot up my spine and slammed into my skull. Two girls from one of the country's top universities — the two most beautiful women on campus — on their knees in a parking-lot car, tongues tangled together as they serviced me at my feet. The sense of conquest that surreal, filthy picture gave me was enough to drive a man insane.
That was why I couldn't walk away from this university, no matter how much money I already had.