I'll Scrape Your Clitoris with a Toothbrush
In five hours, that horrific broadcast would begin. She would have to smile, chatter, and humor her viewers as if nothing in the world were wrong — all while having no idea what kind of demonic eyes might be watching her from beyond the screen. Just thinking about it sent a shiver crawling over her entire body.
Yoo Jimin sat crumpled on the floor, staring up at Lee Dongwoo with trembling eyes. He still wore that satisfied smile, savoring every drop of her despair.
To that devil, the five hours ahead were nothing more than a game. To her, they were hell itself.
"Looks like your stream starts at nine tonight."
Lee Dongwoo spoke as casually as if he'd just glanced at a watch.
"Exactly five hours from now. So…"
His gaze raked over Yoo Jimin's body without a shred of subtlety, as though she were a fish laid out on a cutting board.
"You'll spend that time paying the price for the apology you failed to give back then. Isn't that right, slave?"
"…!"
Of course. Here it came. Yoo Jimin instinctively shrank into herself. But even as she did, a corner of her mind screamed with the will to survive. She had to find a way out of this — even now.
"B-but… nothing too rough… you can't…"
With a trembling hand, she gingerly touched her still-burning cheek.
"The stream… if I have marks on my face or body for the stream… that would be a problem…"
It was pathetic, but it was also practical. If bruises or wounds showed up on camera, the broadcast itself would become impossible. That couldn't be the picture Lee Dongwoo wanted either. Please, she thought — please let him understand at least this much. She watched his face with desperate, pleading eyes.
"Fair enough."
Lee Dongwoo glanced over her cheek and nodded. The livid, swollen bruise was his own handiwork, but he had no intention of ruining the larger game — the stream — for the sake of a little fun right now.
"Don't worry. I won't touch anything that shows today."
"…What?"
He wouldn't touch anything that showed? Which meant he would touch everything that didn't. Relief never came. A far greater dread rushed in to take its place. Places that didn't show — where, and how?
As her anxious eyes followed him, Lee Dongwoo casually reached into another shopping bag and pulled something out. The moment she saw it, Yoo Jimin's eyes widened in horror all over again. In his hand was what looked like an ordinary toothbrush.
But where the bristles should have been, densely packed rows of fine golden needles jutted out instead. It looked grotesque and menacing, more like a torture instrument than anything else.
"This?"
Sensing her stare, he gave the toothbrush a slow twirl. The golden needles caught the light and flashed.
"Custom-made from fine metal filaments. Won't leave a mark on the skin — but it'll give you a very… thrilling sensation."
That cruel smile crept back across his lips.
"Alright. I'm going to play with you now, so…"
His voice dropped, low and intimate.
"Slave. Take off those filthy clothes. Now."
The order to strip. And that monstrous thing right in front of her. Yoo Jimin knew instinctively that it would be used on her body — on the hidden, intimate parts that no camera would ever see. She wanted to refuse.
But the memory of what had just happened held her in place. She had already paid the price of defiance, and paid it dearly. One gesture from him and the brand on her lower belly might flare white-hot again, twisting her body into knots.
With shaking hands, she gripped the hem of her clothes. In a darkness so complete it swallowed her vision, she prepared to obey — because she had no other choice.
A cold metallic click, and the chains around her ankles fell away. Unexpected freedom — but it was no liberation. She trembled, knowing full well this was only the prelude to a far more terrible humiliation.
Lee Dongwoo stepped back without a word and jerked his chin, repeating the command to undress. The metal toothbrush still hung from his hand.
Trembling fingers. Yoo Jimin slowly — so slowly — took hold of the hem of her T-shirt. She could have torn it off in one motion, but she wanted to stall for every second she could. With every scrap of fabric that came away, she felt another piece of her last remaining dignity peel off with it.
The T-shirt came off, revealing pale skin and a lace bra cupping the swell of her breasts. The status window had listed her as a D-cup, but Lee Dongwoo waited for her next move with complete indifference. Yoo Jimin hesitated, then brought a shaking hand to the clasp of her bra.
A small click, and the bra came undone. Freed from their confinement, her full breasts sagged slightly under their own weight. Her pink nipples stood stiff with tension and shame.
Next were her pants — the comfortable sweatpants she'd been wearing as pajamas. She loosened the drawstring and slowly pushed them down. All that remained was a single pair of panties, the last scrap of fabric covering her most private place.
She could feel Lee Dongwoo's icy gaze. He didn't rush her, but that silence pressed down harder than any command. At last, Yoo Jimin squeezed her eyes shut and hooked her fingers under the waistband. The final line of defense slid down, and her pale sex was laid completely bare.
Astonishingly, there was not a single hair to be found. It was smooth, meticulously groomed — as clean as a child's. As if she had never grown any at all.
Lee Dongwoo's eyebrow twitched. He stared at her groin for a moment, as though he hadn't expected this.
"A bald pussy, huh?"
The question was utterly flat.
Yoo Jimin flinched and instinctively moved to cover herself, then realized there was no point and let her hands fall limp. What difference would covering up make now? She answered in a voice that barely rose above a whisper.
"…W-when I wear swimsuits… for the lines… I tidy it up sometimes…"
She'd waxed to look clean on stream whenever she wore a bikini. She had never dreamed that little bit of self-maintenance would be exposed like this.
Click. Click.
With every last scrap of clothing gone and her naked body utterly defenseless, the cold kiss of metal closed around Yoo Jimin's wrists and ankles once more. Lee Dongwoo locked the shackles with practiced ease, spreading her limbs wide and pinning her to the freezing iron floor in the most humiliating position imaginable.
Goosebumps rose across her smooth skin. Her whole body trembled with shame and terror. Even with her eyes closed, she could see herself — this wretched, broken thing.
Watching her shake, Lee Dongwoo's mouth curved into a satisfied smile. He approached slowly and crouched right in front of her. His shadow fell completely over Yoo Jimin's naked body. He held the metal toothbrush up and slowly waved it before her eyes. The golden needles glittered with menace.
"Now then…"
His voice was sweet as honey, but the words inside it were a devil's whisper.
He brought the sharp needles close to her bare skin. They didn't quite touch, but she could almost feel the metal's cold.
"Not a single mark on the outside… but on the inside? It'll be quite a thrill. You can look forward to it, my adorable little slave."
His eyes were gleaming now with open sadism and arousal. Yoo Jimin instinctively tried to shrink away, but her limbs were locked tight — she couldn't so much as twitch.
The monstrous tool in front of her. The cruel smile of the man holding it. The promise of the pain and humiliation to come drove her into a helpless, drowning terror.
True to his word, Lee Dongwoo slowly brought the metal toothbrush to Yoo Jimin's left breast. His gaze was fixed on the stiff, pink nipple standing at attention.
Yoo Jimin held her breath. In the instant before the cold metal touched her skin, every nerve in her body seemed to converge on that single point.
At last, the golden needles grazed the sensitive flesh around her nipple. At first it was a strange, ticklish sensation. But as the toothbrush began to move in slow, persistent circles, the feeling sharpened into pain.
"Nnh!"
Dozens of fine needles scraping tender flesh all at once — a stinging burn. Yoo Jimin's shoulders jerked and a short moan escaped her. It was like being rubbed with impossibly fine sandpaper: a raw, alien, nauseating kind of pain.
And yet something was wrong. It hurt terribly — and beyond that pain, a faint, strange heat was beginning to rise. It was a fragment of that same sickening pleasure she'd felt when the brand was seared into her lower belly, crawling up through her again. Confused by the alien sensation tangled up with the pain, she tried to twist her body away.
In that instant, Lee Dongwoo's low, cold voice froze her in place.
"Don't move."
He didn't stop the brushing. His voice alone pinned her down.
"If you move without my permission, I'll play even rougher with this thing. Stay still."
There was not a shred of emotion in his voice, but the meaning was an unmistakable threat. Rougher play. She did not want to imagine what that meant.
Yoo Jimin stopped moving on reflex and locked her body back into that humiliating pose.
The metal toothbrush started again. A grotesque duet of stinging pain and nauseating pleasure began to violate her body and mind at once. There was nowhere left to run.
Enduring it was the only choice she had been given.