3
“Hah, s-stop…! Ah…! Nngh, a-ahh…!”
“Why are you telling me to stop when your cock is this hard? You’re enjoying it too, aren’t you, Dad?”
Hyeonjun’s words struck like daggers into Sungho’s chest. After Jihun had untied him from the chair, he and Hyeonjun had forced Sungho onto the floor and restrained him again—this time in an even more humiliating position, his legs spread wide in an M-shape. Hyeonjun, complaining about how filthy he was, had shaved off Sungho’s pubic hair without hesitation. Sungho whimpered, begging Hyeonjun for mercy, but Hyeonjun showed none—shoving a vibrator into his ass and turning it on without warning.
“Aaaah—! I—I was wrong…! Nngh…!”
“Do you really think you were wrong? You’ve always said that just to weasel your way out of things.”
“Hngh, I was wrong… haah, Hyeonjun, I’m sorry, Dad’s sorry…”
“Sorry? I hated you, Dad. You always left me alone. I used to wonder why I was even born so young…”
“I’m sorry, AAAAAH—!”
Hyeonjun cranked the vibrator to its highest setting, as if refusing to hear another excuse.
“Actually, I hated Mom too. If this was how it was going to be, why did she even have me? Sure, materially, I never lacked anything… I only chose her side because I needed to graduate college to get a job and finally escape this damn house. Mom never… she never treated me with affection. She always looked at me like I was someone else’s kid…”
“Hyeonjun, please, ah, ngh—!”
“How can you talk so much with your dick this hard?”
Hyeonjun flicked Sungho’s erection with his fingers. The cock twitched pathetically, dripping pre-cum. Amused and disgusted, Hyeonjun clicked his tongue.
“But hey, at least you raised a filial son. I’m the one showing you how to enjoy yourself like this. Tell me. Do you really enjoy being raped?”
“No, I don’t—! I don’t…!”
“No? Then why are your mouth and body saying different things? You love being raped. Is that why you did it to Mom too?”
Sungho shook his head frantically, tears streaming down his face. The fact that Hyeonjun knew—that was what horrified him.
“Did you really think I’d never find out? I should’ve realized sooner—why Mom never loved me, why Dad was never home. I was too naive. How does it feel? Meeting your son all grown up like this.”
Hyeonjun pressed the vibrator deeper, grinding it against Sungho’s prostate. Sungho gasped, turning his head away as Jihun meticulously recorded every moment. In the footage, Sungho would look like nothing more than a middle-aged man with his legs spread, his ass twitching from overstimulation—nothing remarkable.
“Your life was a failure, Dad. A total failure. If you were going to fail, you should’ve done it alone. Why drag me into this?”
Hyeonjun chose his words to wound. As a child, Sungho had never shown up—not for sports day, not for parent-teacher conferences, not even for career counseling. His homeroom teacher had once asked if he even had parents. The rumors spread, and Hyeonjun was mocked—”the kid with no mom, the kid with no dad.” He was always the one with holes in his socks, missing buttons, the one called a beggar. By the time he was old enough to realize it, he had already learned to mend his own clothes and buy the cheap ones himself. His mother, Yu-jin, was always on business trips or working late, and Sungho came home just as late. Hyeonjun had only ever had himself to rely on. There were times he was practically left to raise himself.
When Yu-jin returned from a long overseas trip, the first thing she did was sigh at the sight of him. “Why do you always look so unkempt?” she scolded, before buying him new clothes and wiping his face clean. Then, almost as an afterthought, she muttered:
“I don’t even know where your father is or what he’s doing.”
Though it was a complaint, after that, Yu-jin never stinted on financial support. She didn’t expect him to be as brilliant as she was, but she wanted him to be at least average. It seemed she had given up on Sungho ever taking care of Hyeonjun. She still couldn’t attend parent meetings, but she made sure he never looked shabby again.
Despite Yu-jin’s efforts, Hyeonjun grew resentful. Is money all she thinks I need? Am I asking for too much? He couldn’t ask for help—it wasn’t like he was being abused. He obsessed over why he had been born, why his parents were the way they were. He struggled to trust people, to form real friendships. He wasn’t living some dramatic, movie-worthy hardship, but he was always the misfit, and it frustrated him. He blamed himself, convinced he was the problem. The only friend who ever reached out to him during those lonely school days was Seungjun. His unremarkable, unwanted school years finally ended, but the boy who knew his parents didn’t love him had grown into a young man with shadows in his eyes.
The moment he realized Sungho was the root of it all, every ounce of his resentment and fury turned toward him.
The buzzing of the vibrator stopped. Hyeonjun had turned it off. The only sound in the room was Sungho’s ragged breathing. He was completely broken.
“…Honestly, Dad, I don’t think you have much talent for taking it in the ass. Your dick wasn’t even that impressive earlier.”
Hyeonjun slathered a thicker vibrator with lube and pushed it into Sungho’s ass with the same detached efficiency he might use to complete a work task. Sungho let out weak, intermittent sounds—ah, ah—as Hyeonjun continued.
“Seriously. Why did you do it? Like an idiot. Like trash.”
Sungho couldn’t answer. His own child was staring him down, fucking him with a vibrator while berating him. This was revenge. For a moment, he saw Yu-jin’s face in Hyeonjun’s cold eyes, and it sent a chill down his spine.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
“No. I asked why you did it.”
Sungho squeezed his eyes shut. The darkness made the vibrations inside him feel even more intense, but it was better than facing Hyeonjun. It hurt. His life had been nothing but mistakes, but he had never wanted to turn back time as desperately as he did now.
Memories of his past sins flashed before him.
Sungho barely managed to open his mouth, suppressing a moan to say something other than I’m sorry to Hyeonjun.
“F-forgive… me, Hyeon—ngh—jun…!”
Hyeonjun replied indifferently.
“I’ll think about it.”
[Bzzzt— Bzzzt—]
A different vibration cut through the hum of the vibrator. It was Hyeonjun’s phone, ringing in his pocket.
“Hello.”
Hyeonjun left Sungho bound on the floor and answered the call. A deep, confident male voice came through the receiver. Sungho was too distracted by the vibrations inside him to pay attention to the conversation—he just wanted it to stop.
“Yes. He’s not talking. Mhm. Yeah, Dad.”
Sungho’s eyes widened at the word—Dad. Hyeonjun hung up and let out a long sigh.
“You really won’t say a word to the end, huh? Fine. At least reward Jihun for his hard work.”
The vibrator’s buzzing ceased. Sungho barely had time to feel relief before realizing Hyeonjun had only turned it off—not removed it. Jihun, who had been filming the whole time, set his phone down and began undressing. His toned body was bound with ropes, the black cords wrapped around his chest and abs making it clear he was someone’s property.
“Your dick’s too pathetic… I’ll have to settle for just sucking it.”
“…Can’t be helped, I guess.”
Jihun’s voice carried a hint of disappointment, but he seemed content with just that. He covered Sungho’s body with his own, pressing down.
“You know what a 69 is, right, Dad? Since Jihun’s got a pretty big cock… you shouldn’t have any trouble sucking it.”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
