Episode 9. The Tamed Ones — D/s, Park, Exhibition, Excretion
It was near the end of spring.
The park's streetlamps stretched long shadows across the bench. Far down the walking path, signs of people drifted by now and then. A bicycle passed. An elderly couple walked hand in hand. Then the quiet returned.
Nana sat beside Minwoo.
Her coat pulled close at the collar, her knees pressed together — a posture no different from any other day.
Minwoo glanced sideways.
Nana's hand was trembling faintly atop the coat.
"Are you cold?"
Nana shook her head.
Her gaze stayed fixed straight ahead. The streetlamp beyond the walking path — its light wavered faintly in her eyes.
Minwoo said nothing. He waited. He knew how she got when something she wanted to say was caught in her throat: her knees drew a little closer, her hand went still on the coat, her breathing turned shallow.
Nana kept staring at the streetlamp. Old things were surfacing in her mind.
The first time Taeyang had filled her with a vibrator, Nana had said she hated it. Taeyang had laughed, dangling the remote. "Be good, and I'll turn it off." That was how it started. She hated it — and her body responded. When it responded, she was ashamed. Ashamed — and the response came again all the same. Taeyang had sneered at her for it. "See? You love it." Nana had said no. It wasn't true — but her body was lying.
Years had passed.
Now Nana knew. Her body had never been lying.
It simply — was. The way her lower belly tightened in a humiliating moment. The way every nerve in her body came alive the instant control seemed to slip away. That was nothing Taeyang had made. It was only what Taeyang had found — something that had been inside her all along.
The problem was that Taeyang had used it as a weapon.
Minwoo was different.
In front of Minwoo, for the first time, it felt like Nana could bring it out without shame. Something she had never once done — wanting it of her own will.
Nana looked at Minwoo. He was waiting. Not rushing her.
Her hand rose to the coat's buttons.
Slowly, she undid the first.
The second.
The third.
The coat fell open.
What was beneath was bare.
Minwoo's gaze traveled down — and stopped.
There were no clothes on Nana's body. Instead — thin cords. Wrapping her chest, circling her hips, running beneath her buttocks. Marks pressed vividly into her skin. Lines carved by bondage lay quietly inscribed across her body.
Around her neck was a choker.
It wasn't the first time he had seen it. She always wore it. But today, a small ring hung from it.
From outside the park all the way to this bench — she had been like this beneath her coat the whole way.
Minwoo looked at Nana. Her face was flushed red. She didn't look away. She met his eyes with trembling ones.
"Tell me." Minwoo's voice was low.
Nana's lips moved slowly.
"There's something I want."
"What is it?"
Nana drew in a breath.
Minwoo had no idea how long this moment had lived inside her dreams before her lips finally parted. She had never said words like these to Taeyang. Taeyang never asked. He simply did — whether Nana wanted it or not. So Nana had never learned how to say what she wanted.
The words gathering on her lips now were shaking. It was shameful. To say it aloud felt like becoming someone wrong, someone strange.
And yet that very shame was — already tightening her lower belly.
Nana knew that too. That the act of saying it — of voicing her want out loud — was already part of it.
"Please attach a leash to my collar."
Minwoo looked at her.
"And—"
Nana pressed on. If she stopped now, she didn't think she could go on.
"Walk me. Like that."
Minwoo reached for the ring on Nana's choker and clipped the leash on. A small click. Nana's shoulders shuddered.
"Coat."
One word.
Nana went still. Lamplight pooled over the bench. At the far end of the walking path, people still passed now and then.
Nana took off the coat. She laid it on the bench.
The wind came.
Her skin came alive all at once. Between the cords. Across her chest. Along her inner thighs. The air of spring's end was sharp against her warmed skin.
Nana rested both hands on her knees.
Minwoo looked at her. She was naked — nothing but the cords. Wrapping her chest, circling her hips, running beneath her buttocks. The lamplight cast shadows along the marks they left.
"Come down."
Her knees met the stone pavement. It was cold. Her palms settled beside them. As her posture shifted, the cords pulled taut and bit into her skin.
Nana lifted her head.
She could see the walking path. Streetlamps stood at even intervals, light and shadow alternating.
Her heart quickened.
No one was there.
But anyone could come.
Those two truths touched her body at once. The air lay against every inch of her bared skin. There was nothing to cover, nowhere to hide it. The cords, if anything, exposed her further, carved across her body as they were.
Her inner thighs were wet.
And they hadn't even begun.
The leash pulled.
Nana followed. On hands and knees. The stone scraped her palms. Each movement of her chest dragged the cords across her skin. The air never stopped touching her.
It was humiliating.
And Nana felt that tightening — no longer as a weapon, but as something of her own.
She knew why she wanted this.
When Taeyang ordered it in public places, she had tried to hide. Tried not to be seen. Shame had been a weapon then — one he held and swung. That was why the pleasure of those days was always mixed with fear: wanting it to be over quickly, and her body responding, at the very same time.
But this was different.
Nana was naked and crawling now — because Nana wanted to be.
That difference was everything.
They passed beneath the light of a streetlamp.
The light fell on Nana's body. On the cords. On her chest. On the wet inside of her thighs.
Minwoo watched.
Nana knew it.
She wanted to hide. And at the same time — she wanted to show more. Both existed at once, and somewhere between them lay what Nana truly wanted.
Footsteps sounded in the distance.
Her body locked up.
Minwoo stopped.
The footsteps drew closer — then turned down a side path and faded away.
"Ha—"
Nana's breath burst free. Everything she'd been holding. Something warm ran further down her inner thighs.
She'd almost been caught.
Every nerve in her body was awake. Her heart beat far too fast. Her lower belly was clenched tight.
Minwoo looked down at her. Nana looked up — eyes wet, cheeks burning.
Minwoo's gaze moved to a tree beside the bench — the one standing where the lamplight's shadow didn't reach.
"That tree."
Nana looked at the tree. Then at Minwoo. She understood what it meant.
Her face flared hot all at once. More than crawling through the park naked. More than the cords carved across her skin. More than wearing the leash.
This was more shameful than all of it.
"Th— that's—"
"Go."
The leash pulled.
Nana followed and stopped beneath the tree. The ground was cold. The bark loomed before her eyes.
Minwoo watched from behind.
She knew he was watching. In this position. In this state. With everything visible.
It made her burn hotter.
She tensed her lower belly. Nothing came. She was wound too tight.
"It's all right. Go ahead." The voice was low and gentle.
Nana closed her eyes.
Slowly, she let go.
It flowed out of her.
Her face burned redder. There was a sound — the sound of the ground being soaked — beneath the tree, while she knelt there naked, before Minwoo's eyes.
It was degrading.
Her whole body went up in flames. Her lower belly clenched. Nana already knew that the more shameful it was, the harder her body responded. But this — this was truly—
Tears welled up.
And then... it was over.
Nana was holding her breath. She couldn't bring herself to look at Minwoo.
He came to her.
His hand stroked her hair. Slowly.
"You did well."
The words — sank straight into her chest.
Tears spilled over. Taeyang had never once said anything like that. Whenever she endured something shameful, no one had ever simply been there for her.
"Back to the bench."
The leash pulled, and Nana followed.
There was nothing left to be ashamed of.
Her nakedness, the bondage, the collar, what she had just done — Minwoo had seen all of it. He knew all of it. And still he said she'd done well. Still he was there.
There was nothing to hide.
So the things she wanted — she could have them all.
They stopped in front of the bench.
Nana raised her hands first. Onto the bench, bracing her upper body, presenting her rear.
Without waiting to be told.
Minwoo watched. She was holding the position herself — on trembling thighs, with the cords still pulling taut.
His hands settled on her hips. Then, slowly, he entered her.
"Ah—"
Nana gripped the bench, her fingers digging in. The depth was different — in this position he reached even deeper inside. The cords pulled. Her skin compressed.
Minwoo began to move.
Slowly. Holding her hips. Pressing their bodies flush.
Nana matched his rhythm, pushing her hips back to meet him. The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed low through the quiet park.
Creak. Creak.
A wet, slick sound wove through it.
"Ahh— aahn—"
Nana's head dropped. Her hair spilled across the bench. Her breath grew short. Every time Minwoo moved, something kept building deep inside her.
It wasn't enough yet.
She wanted more.
She knew what to add on top of this feeling to make her shatter.
She was embarrassed to say it out loud.
But she had already shown him everything under that tree. There was nothing left to hide.
"Please hit me."
Low. A trembling voice.
Minwoo didn't stop. He kept his rhythm.
Smack.
Once. Hard.
Nana's body pitched forward, and the recoil drove him deeper. A broken sound tore from her mouth.
"Haaah—"
It hurt. And the pain landed squarely on top of the pleasure deep inside her. The two mingled, and her lower belly clenched hard.
Minwoo moved again. The rhythm deepened. Nana's breath grew shorter and shorter — breaking, then catching, then breaking again.
Smack.
Once more.
"Haaaahn— yes, I like it—"
Her grip on the bench tightened. Tears rose. The cords held her body in place, and before the heat of the smack could fade, Minwoo's rhythm carried her onward.
She existed in the place where the two overlapped.
Deep in her lower belly, everything was gathering toward a single point.
"Ah— aaahh—"
She couldn't hold it back.
Her forehead pressed against the bench. Her back arched like a bow. The cords seized her whole body. The smacked spot was ablaze, its heat flooding into the pleasure within.
"Haaaaah—"
She broke.
Loudly.
She didn't hold back. She didn't hide it. The sound spread through the park — and Nana didn't even notice. Her body shook in waves. For a long time. A long time — longer still because Minwoo didn't stop.
Slowly, it subsided.
Nana slumped against the bench.
Her breathing was uneven. Her knees trembled. The cords still pressed into her skin. The smacked spot still burned.
Minwoo stroked her back. Slowly.
He said nothing.
The wind came, sweeping over her skin once more.
Nana closed her eyes.
It was the first time. Laying out everything she wanted, taking all of it in, and falling apart with a loud cry.
She wasn't ashamed.
It simply — belonged to her.
The things that had been tamed — had never, from the very beginning, been tamed at all.