Want to Train Her Yourself?
Dongwoo rose as he spoke, then gestured toward Yoo Jimin, who had been watching the entire scene unfold with bated breath.
"Hey."
"...Yes."
"That bitch. Tie her to that chair over there."
His finger pointed to a cold steel chair sitting alone in the corner.
Yoo Jimin hesitated for a moment, but the instant she felt Dongwoo's icy gaze settle on her, she hurried into motion. She grabbed Seoyeon's arm from where she sat crumpled on the floor, hauled her upright, and dragged her to the chair. Han Seoyeon tried desperately to resist, but her body had been drained of every last ounce of strength, and her struggling amounted to nothing.
Yoo Jimin bound her to the chair with practiced hands, using the ropes that had been laid out in advance. Arms, legs, waist — until she couldn't so much as twitch. Despair settled even heavier across Seoyeon's face. She was no different now from livestock waiting for the slaughter.
Once everything was ready, Lee Dongwoo reached into a box sitting against one wall and pulled something out, a look of thorough satisfaction on his face. It was a thick leather collar and a steel chain — the kind you'd put on a dog. A cheap, crude dog collar made of the coarsest leather imaginable. Scratch marks still scored the dingy brown hide, and the rusted chain attached to it dragged across the floor with a cold metallic scrape.
Tied to the chair, Han Seoyeon watched, her eyes blazing with contempt and rage. Surely he wasn't about to put that thing — something fit only for a beast — around her neck.
"What the hell do you think you're doing with that?!"
She screamed. Her voice was hoarse and raw, but the pride in it hadn't died.
Dongwoo seemed to find her reaction amusing. He dangled the collar in front of her and grinned. The chain clinked, the sound scraping across her nerves like a blade.
"It's a gift."
The words left his mouth with infuriating casualness. He walked slowly toward her, collar in hand. The figure reflected in her eyes looked like a reaper come to carry out a death sentence.
"I know you hate this. That's why I'm giving it to you."
He came right up to her chin, meeting the eyes of the woman snarling up at him. Then he whispered into her ear.
"This is the exact same one you put on me back in school."
Han Seoyeon's pupils trembled violently. A fragment of the past she had forgotten — no, that she had tried to forget — sliced through her mind.
That was right. One day before graduation, she and her friends had locked Lee Dongwoo in the storage room and, as a joke, fastened a dog collar around his neck. It had been nothing but a fun little game back then. The way he'd struggled so weakly had been hilarious, and his humiliation had felt delicious. But now the situation had come full circle, reversed perfectly.
Dongwoo confirmed from the tremor in her eyes that she remembered. A satisfied smile crossed his face as he fastened the cold leather collar around Han Seoyeon's slender throat.
Click.
The sound of the buckle locking drove into her heart like a dagger.
"Well? Starting to remember now?"
Dongwoo gave the chain a light tug. As it went taut and bit into her neck, Seoyeon made a choking, gagging sound. The sight of that rough, filthy leather collar locked around her pale throat was humiliation itself — a proud swan reduced overnight to a dog on a leash.
The cold leather wrapped around Han Seoyeon's neck with a sickening intimacy. The click of the buckle had sounded like the last of her pride shattering. The dog collar sat tight around her throat, and the end of the chain that ran from it was held in Lee Dongwoo's hand.
"Ah, right. What was it you said back then?"
Dongwoo jingled the chain, putting on an expression as if he were searching his memory. That leisurely air only magnified Han Seoyeon's terror.
"You said I acted like such a pathetic mutt that I deserved a dog collar, didn't you?"
A dark smile spread across his lips — a vicious, twisted thing, revenge from the past tangled with the hunger to conquer in the present.
"I feel about the same."
Dongwoo wound the chain loosely around one hand, the easy, arrogant grip of a man handling a pet.
"From now on, I'm going to turn you into a perfect little bitch."
The laugh that burst from him filled the room. It was pure madness. He gave the chain a light tug, and as her throat constricted, Seoyeon let out a pained gasp. Her body, bound to the chair, lurched forward on reflex. She tried desperately to resist, but the ropes didn't budge.
"Don't... you crazy bastard...!"
A voice thick with rage and humiliation tore out of her. But her resistance only fanned Dongwoo's sadism further.
Watching it all, Yoo Jimin's pupils trembled, just slightly. The dog collar around Han Seoyeon's neck — until yesterday, that same collar had been around her own. The same humiliation. The same despair. She swallowed dryly without realizing it.
Dongwoo's laughter died. He yanked the chain hard. This time Seoyeon had no chance to resist — her upper body pitched forward. Bound to the chair, she couldn't fall all the way, but her head was forced down toward the floor in a posture of utter degradation.
"Alright. First lesson."
Dongwoo's voice was ice. He put his weight into the chain, pinning her so she couldn't lift her head.
Lee Dongwoo's command froze the air in the room.
"Bark, Han Seoyeon."
It was more than an insult. It was a declaration that would grind her human dignity into nothing. Tied to the steel chair, a dog collar around her neck, Han Seoyeon's eyes went bloodshot.
"...You think I'm going to do that? You insane piece of shit!"
The scream tore her throat raw. She ground her teeth, glaring at the man in front of her as if she could kill him with her eyes. She'd rather die than endure this kind of humiliation.
But Dongwoo didn't so much as blink at her violent outburst. If anything, the corner of his mouth curved, soft and pleased, like a child who'd found an interesting new toy.
"You will."
His voice was so calm, so certain, that it sent a chill down her spine.
Dongwoo released the chain and walked slowly around behind her. Han Seoyeon strained every nerve toward his movement. The cold presence at her back made her body lock up on instinct.
Then a large hand settled on her ass with a heavy, casual thud.
The alien, repulsive sensation of skin on bare skin. Through the goosebumps raised by cold and terror, a strange man's body heat transferred itself to her completely. This was a different kind of violation from violence — something far more blatant.
For a moment, Han Seoyeon's mind went blank. Her stripped body. And of all places, that most private, most yielding part of her, seized as if it were nothing. Every thought stopped. Her eyes flooded with shock, and then a boiling shame painted her face scarlet.
"You... you fucking—! Don't you dare touch me!"
A scream tore out of her, closer to a shriek. She thrashed against the ropes like a madwoman. But all it did was make the chair creak. The man's hand didn't leave. If anything, his fingers began to slowly stroke the round, soft swell of her ass, as if savoring the feel of her skin. The brazen fondling stole the breath from Han Seoyeon's lungs.
"Don't fucking touch me!"
To Dongwoo, Han Seoyeon's screams were nothing but pleasant background music. He ignored her completely, putting more force into the hand kneading her ass. The springy flesh crushed helplessly in his grip.
"Damn. Your ass is bigger than I expected."
He murmured it like a compliment, then wrapped his other hand around the opposite cheek. A satisfied smile settled on his lips at the full, soft weight filling both palms.
"Was your body always this filthy?"
He whispered it deliberately against Seoyeon's ear. Through his palms, he could feel her body shudder with shame. His hands grew more explicit, sliding insidiously into the cleft of her ass.
Watching Seoyeon writhe in horror, Dongwoo suddenly seemed to have a good idea. He turned his head toward Yoo Jimin, who stood frozen against the far wall as if nailed there. She was staring at them with a face full of fear — and yet, somewhere in her eyes, a strange, twisted anticipation.
"Hey."
He jerked his chin at Yoo Jimin.
"You never liked her much, did you?"
Dongwoo looked back and forth between the two of them with genuine interest. One was plunging into the abyss of humiliation. The other was watching it happen and feeling a warped kind of thrill. Could there be a more perfect picture?
Yoo Jimin's eyes went wide. Dongwoo's hands were still toying with Seoyeon's ass. Even Seoyeon's struggling stopped for a moment. She looked back and forth between Dongwoo and Jimin, unable to believe what she'd heard.
Yoo Jimin's heart began to pound. Han Seoyeon? Me? The girl who had always looked down on her, who had ruled over them like a queen — and she could shove her into the filth with her own two hands?
Just imagining it sent a delicious shiver down her spine. Her mouth went dry. The hatred and jealousy she'd kept buried rose like black smoke.
Dongwoo, as if he could see straight through her, looked thoroughly entertained as he waited for her answer.