Park Se-yul leaned back in his chair, eyes glued to the ticking clock. With each precise click of the stopwatch, he tapped his fingertips rhythmically against the desk.
“He’s late.”
As the appointed time hit, Park Se-yul pulled open a drawer. Inside, neatly arranged, were a collection of well-kept switches—whips crafted from branches he’d personally harvested during a gate raid.
They were the dried limbs of a wooden-type monster known for emitting a faint aphrodisiac. Just touching one had an effect not unlike taking a stimulant. For an S-rank Esper like him, the effect was negligible—
But Yeo Eun-jo would be a different story.
The moment he picked one up, soft, hesitant footsteps echoed outside the office. Eun-jo had arrived.
Knock, knock.
The door creaked open, and Eun-jo stepped in cautiously.
“Hello…”
Dressed in casual clothes, Eun-jo offered a polite bow. He even tilted his head slightly, deliberately angling the bruised side of his face into view. As expected, Park Se-yul’s eyes zeroed in on the swollen cheek. His lips curled into a sharp, bitter smile.
It wasn’t amusement—it was rage simmering just beneath the surface.
“Ha.”
“……”
“I’m pretty sure I told you not to show up with marks you didn’t get from me.”
His voice filled the office—low, cold, and unmistakably dangerous.
He narrowed his gaze, locked on Eun-jo’s puffed cheek. Even though he’d already been briefed about the incident outside the Center, seeing it with his own eyes soured his mood completely.
Tch.
It felt as though someone had violated what belonged to him. Sure, he hadn’t exactly treated Eun-jo gently, but Yeo Eun-jo was a Guide under his command—a member of Team A. Discipline was his sole right.
Park Se-yul walked toward him, slow and deliberate, the sharp click of his heels echoing ominously.
Eun-jo shrank back like a dog about to be punished.
“Anywhere else, besides the cheek?”
“……”
When no answer came, Park Se-yul tugged lightly at his shirt.
“Take it off.”
Eun-jo’s eyes flicked back and forth nervously before squeezing shut. Then, without a word, he slowly undid his shirt and knelt down.
Just like he’d been trained in the shower room, he knelt with his hands clasped behind his back. His flushed, rose-tinged chest—still marked from Lee Sang-heon—was bared. Bitemarks scattered across his skin, evidence of lips that had teased and bitten his lower half.
Park Se-yul’s gaze turned frigid at the sight—undeniable signs of sex.
The colder his expression grew, the more Eun-jo’s lower stomach tensed and fluttered.
God, I can’t wait.
Everyone he’d been with so far had always pulled back. Jung Tae-seok would stop the second Eun-jo looked even remotely uncomfortable. Lee Sang-heon never crossed a line he hadn’t been given permission to.
Well—except for that lunatic from Team B.
But Park Se-yul was nothing like them. Even if Eun-jo cried, screamed, begged—it wouldn’t make a difference. He wouldn’t stop. Not even if Eun-jo passed out.
Remembering how Park had cornered him in the shower, Eun-jo dropped his gaze like a sinner awaiting judgment.
“That’s all you took off?”
Behind his silver-rimmed glasses, Park Se-yul’s gaze stayed fixed on Eun-jo’s eyes as the younger man hesitated, then slowly rose from his knees. With trembling fingers, Eun-jo pushed down his pants, then held onto the waistband of his briefs.
“T-This too…?”
“What, are briefs not clothes now?”
Park tapped the end of the switch against the floor. At the sound, Eun-jo sucked in a breath and slipped out of his briefs. His face flushed deep red, painted with humiliation, he knelt down again, hands obediently folded behind his back.
His eyes were glazed, his lower lip drawn in between his teeth, chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. The way he sat there, overwhelmed and unsure, was obscenely enticing. Park looked down at him, satisfied, and raised the switch.
“You couldn’t help yourself, could you? Acting like a filthy little toy.”
“……”
The tip of the switch brushed lightly across Eun-jo’s cheek. It trailed down his neck, over the skin littered with bite marks, and came to rest just above his lower stomach.
“Such a small belly, and yet you’ve swallowed so many cocks. Haven’t you?”
“T-Team Leader…”
Whoosh.
The switch sliced through the air with a sharp whistle, followed by the sound of impact. A vivid red line bloomed across Eun-jo’s pale thigh.
“Ahk!”
“You speak only when I give you permission. No talking back.”
“Hnngh…”
“I told you not to show up with someone else’s marks, yet you came in covered in handprints. Told you not to act like a slut, and look at you—parading that swollen chest around like you’re begging for attention…”
“……”
“For Team A’s Guide, you’re downright vulgar. What, can’t even go a day without getting stuffed?”
Eun-jo’s head snapped up in alarm, a sharp, stifled moan escaping him. He looked terrified—as if Park might really replace him.
Park gripped his chin and tilted it up. Their eyes met, and with a slow motion, he dragged the switch along Eun-jo’s thigh again.
“Twenty lashes.”
“……”
“Count each one. That’s the only way you get to walk out of here.”
Eun-jo swallowed hard, fear filling his eyes. But after a moment, he nodded. Park gave his cheek a light, almost mocking pat—then raised the switch.
CRACK!
The pain exploded across Eun-jo’s thigh, searing and blinding.
“Aghhh!”
It was pain unlike anything he’d ever felt. A scream ripped from his throat as his hands instinctively flew to the burning spot. But Park gave him no room for pity—the switch cracked through the air again.
His voice was ice.
“Hands off. Count.”
CRACK! Another lash. Another line of fire. Park wouldn’t stop until the counting began. As the next stroke came, Eun-jo quickly shoved his hands behind his back.
“H-Hah… One!”
Another blow landed. A new welt bloomed, pain surging through his body.
“T-Two! Hnghh…!”
CRACK. CRACK.
Each strike felt like it was slicing his skin open. By the time the third and fourth lashes hit, Eun-jo was shouting numbers in a daze. His round eyes filled with tears, which began to fall freely down his cheeks.
His entire body burned. His thighs throbbed, his calves were tight, and his lower stomach quivered with each lash. But the heat spreading through him wasn’t only from pain—it was the aphrodisiac effect of the switch.
“A-Ahh… Nine…!”
Eun-jo’s hips jerked involuntarily. Confusion blurred his expression. He didn’t even understand what was happening to his body. Every time the switch struck his thigh, his toes curled, his legs shook.
It hurt—but it felt good. And because it felt good, it hurt more. A desperate, shameful craving rose inside him. If only Park would just strike lower—smack the tip already, stroke him with the switch—he’d probably come on the spot.
Dizzy with arousal, Eun-jo leaned forward, dazed, and accidentally called out the wrong number.
“Hnnngh… E-Eleven…!”
“It’s ten, Yeo Eun-jo.”
His cock was already fully erect, shamelessly hard.
Tsk. Clicking his tongue in irritation, Park Se-yul grabbed Eun-jo by the hair and yanked him forward.
“Ah—ahh!”
Thrown off balance, Eun-jo crumpled to the floor. The very next moment, Park brought the switch down hard on the inside of his thigh. A sharp sting tore through him, and Eun-jo’s hands shot down to clutch the burning spot.
Between his reddened thighs, everything was laid bare. His tight, twitching hole clenched as though it wanted to be punished—begging for attention.
“If your mouth can’t even count properly, maybe that little cunt of yours can.”
“Ahh… ngh…”
Please. Just do it already. He didn’t care what went in—he just wanted something deep inside, wanted to be stirred up until he couldn’t think.
Panting, Eun-jo lifted his legs higher, shamelessly spreading himself wide, his eyes locking onto Park’s with a feverish, desperate glint.
“A-Are you… going to hit me there too…?”
His voice was soaked in shame, trembling and soft, barely holding together. His cheeks were flushed crimson, eyes glassy with need.
The moment he asked, Park didn’t hesitate. The tip of the switch pressed directly against Eun-jo’s hole—then pushed in.
“Hiiiek!”
The sudden intrusion made Eun-jo gasp, his entire body jerking.
“Ahh—no, wait—ah!”
The long switch slid deeper, slowly but steadily. It thickened toward the base, and his tight inner walls stretched to take it, gripping down hard with every inch that slid inside. The deeper it went, the more it pried him open, until even the deepest part of him ached from the intrusion.
