Park's Officetel (Part 1)
"Why are you sitting so far away? Come here." He pats the seat beside him with his hand.
Seoyeon hesitates, and his expression hardens coldly. "Do I have to say it twice?"
With no choice, she shifts to the spot next to him. He flashes a satisfied smile and drapes his arm around her shoulders. "That's better. From now on, just do as I say. Then there won't be any problems."
He takes a sip of wine, then grips her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Like you did for the Chairman the other day... do it for me too."
"...Pardon?"
"Didn't hear me? Use your mouth to ask me to feed you a drink."
His demand is relentless. Seoyeon grits her teeth. But she has no choice. Slowly, so very slowly, she lifts the wine glass and takes a sip into her mouth.
She leans toward his face and begins the humiliating service she performed for the Chairman. Turning her body, she bends over him as he reclines on the sofa. His face draws close, inches from her nose.
Resigning herself completely, she brings her trembling lips to his and presses them together. The rough, thick texture of his lips transmits directly to her. As she parts her lips slightly, the wine she holds flows between them.
Section Chief Park closes his eyes, savoring the taste. Not content with just the wine, he seems to crave everything left in her mouth—he thrusts his tongue inside. It sweeps over her tongue and the roof of her mouth, claiming every last drop of wine.
The wine mixes with their saliva, producing wet, sticky sounds. Seoyeon tries to pull her lips away in panic, but he grabs the back of her neck, holding her in place. Only after ravaging her mouth at length does he let out a satisfied groan and slowly release her.
A thin, sticky thread of red wine and saliva stretches precariously between their lips before snapping.
"As expected... your mouth is far better than any expensive crystal glass." His voice is languid, brimming with satisfaction.
He tightens his grip on her shoulder and pulls her to her feet from the sofa. "Come here. I'll show you something even better."
He leads her to the bedroom door at the back of the living room and opens it. The room is decorated like a hotel suite, with a massive king-size bed dominating the space. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling window on one wall, the cityscape hazes in the lazy afternoon sunlight.
Section Chief Park positions her in front of the bed and pulls a shopping bag from the built-in closet, tossing it onto the mattress. "Here, a gift. Open it."
As Seoyeon hesitates, he flips the bag over, spilling its contents across the bed. Out tumble clothes adorned with flashy decorations: skin-tight leather hot pants that are scandalously short, a navel-baring tank top, and a short jacket loaded with stage embellishments.
They evoke a futuristic female warrior—no one would mistake them for everyday wear.
"What... is this?"
"Remember when your group shot that ad for our partner telecom company? These were rolling around in the marketing team's warehouse, so I picked them up. They're yours, Ciel."
True enough, they are the stage outfits Seoyeon wore back in her Ciel days. Staring at the familiar clothes on the bed, a flood of emotions crosses her face. Symbols of her most glamorous era.
But in this moment, in this man's hands, they are nothing but emblems of humiliation.
"Well, back to their original owner—so try them on. Take off what you're wearing now."
Obeying his command, Seoyeon slowly begins to strip. When she stands in her underwear, he nods toward it. "The underwear too. You didn't wear any under your stage clothes, right?"
She grits her teeth and discards the last of it. Now fully naked, she picks up the remnants of her past self from the bed.
But the clothes don't fit. Her body, plumper and more voluptuous since marriage, has outgrown the rigorously maintained idol size. She has to yank the leather hot pants up midway through her thighs; they fail to cover her ass fully, leaving the round flesh of her cheeks exposed. The tightness outlines her pussy mound obscenely over the fabric.
The top is worse. The clingy tank top can't contain her ample breasts—half of them threaten to spill out the top. Through the thin material, her erect nipples stand out starkly.
Only the jacket draped over her shoulders fits somewhat.
Overwhelmed by shame, Seoyeon can't lift her head. Section Chief Park gazes at her with a pleased smile.
Leaning deep into the sofa, he gestures to the center of the room. "Now, dance for me alone this time—no other old men watching."
Seoyeon still can't raise her head. She walks to the middle of the room as ordered. The ill-fitting clothes restrict every movement.
Familiar with the routine, Section Chief Park fiddles with the remote and cues up her idol group's biggest hit. The addictive beat fills the empty officetel.
Seoyeon surrenders completely and begins to move to the music. The tiny outfit makes it uncomfortable, but her body remembers the choreography drilled thousands, tens of thousands of times: hip rolls, waves, ass pops.
At first, she focuses solely on the dance, ignoring his gaze devouring her from the sofa. Even when he starts removing his pants, she continues without faltering.
But when he strips fully and exposes his massively erect cock, everything changes. With every turn, it enters the corner of her vision—that imposing pillar. She tries to avert her eyes at first, but the choreography keeps bringing her gaze back to it. Not his eyes—his thing.
Red and swollen, it twitches subtly in time with her dance. The grotesque, intimidating sight makes her face burn hotter and hotter.
In the end, she misses a beat, and the choreography falls apart.
As the music ends, Section Chief Park crooks a finger at the panting Seoyeon, beckoning her over. Sweat-soaked, she approaches where he sits.
Without a word, he points to the floor directly in front of him. "On your knees," he commands softly.
She knows exactly what that means. Slowly, so very slowly, she kneels before him.
Section Chief Park strokes her hair gently, like praising a loyal dog. Then he brings his cock to her lips.
With an emotionless face, eyes closed, Seoyeon begins to lick it. Her tongue first laps at the clear fluid beading on the glans.
Then, like a pilgrim tracing a holy path, it slides down the shaft. Her soft tongue feels every pulsing vein on the rigid column.
Without stopping, it reaches the base and moves to his sagging balls. She takes one fully into her mouth, sucking it gently like ice cream. His body twitches.
She gives the other the same devoted treatment. Then her tongue meticulously cleans the perineum between his balls and anus.
Completing the pilgrimage, it climbs the shaft again. Finally, she engulfs the massive glans whole, working her lips and tongue to suck him off.
Her mind is blank. No pleasure, no humiliation—just fulfilling the task at hand. Her mouth has become a perfect tool for pleasuring him.
She takes him deeper, gagging as the glans hits her throat, but she doesn't stop. Instead, she hollows her cheeks, sucking the shaft hard.
The wet slurp, slurp of her cheeks against him fills the officetel. Mechanically, flawlessly, she works: tongue circling the sensitive frenulum groove, then flattening to envelop and lick the entire shaft upward.
Her technique is soft, but devoid of emotion.
Section Chief Park gently grips her hair, thrusting his hips to fuck her throat deeper. He uses her mouth like a pussy, ravaging it at will.
Seoyeon yields passively, mouth open to receive him. Her mouth is already a slick mess of his precum and her saliva.
She just prays for it to end soon.
But Section Chief Park shows no sign of finishing. If anything, he pistons into her mouth more fiercely, groaning in satisfaction.
After an eternity of her service, he suddenly yanks her hair roughly.