STRIP CLUB
At night
Jungkook stepped into the dimly lit club, the bass thumping through his chest as he scanned the room for his friend. His eyes landed on the stage instead. There she was-YN-grinding to the beat, her hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles that made her ass bounce and jiggle under the flashing lights. She wore nothing but a tiny thong that disappeared between her cheeks, her bare breasts swaying with every move. Sweat glistened on her skin as she dropped low, spreading her legs and arching her back, the thin fabric barely covering her pussy lips.
Jungkook's cock twitched instantly. He forgot about his friend. All he could see was her-how that perfect ass shook, how her pussy pressed against the thong with each squat, the outline of her folds visible when she bent over. He wanted to bury his face between those thighs and eat her out until she screamed.
After her set, YN slipped offstage and headed to the bar for a drink. Jungkook followed, sliding onto the stool beside her. "You move like you were made to be fucked," he said low, eyes raking over her body. She laughed politely, sipping her drink, but he didn't miss the way her nipples hardened under his stare.
He bought her another round, then another. By the time the club closed, Jungkook had her in the back of his black SUV, his hand already between her thighs, fingers pushing the thong aside to stroke her slick pussy. "So wet already," he growled, sliding two fingers inside her. YN moaned, hips bucking against his hand as he pumped them deep, curling to hit that spot that made her thighs shake.
He took her to his penthouse that night. The moment the door closed, Jungkook shoved her against the wall, yanking the thong down and dropping to his knees. He spread her legs wide, burying his face in her pussy, tongue lapping at her folds before sucking her clit hard. YN cried out, fingers tangling in his hair as he ate her like a man starved-tongue fucking her hole, then flattening to lick broad stripes over her swollen clit. Her juices coated his chin as he groaned into her cunt, the vibrations making her knees buckle.
Jungkook stood, spun her around, and bent her over the couch. He freed his thick cock, slapping it against her ass before lining up and slamming into her pussy in one thrust. YN gasped, walls clenching around him as he started pounding her hard and fast, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room. He gripped her hips bruisingly tight, pulling her back onto his cock with every thrust, watching her ass ripple.
"Fuck, this pussy's mine now," he snarled, reaching around to rub her clit in tight circles. YN came hard, squirting around his cock, but Jungkook didn't stop. He flipped her onto her back, hooked her legs over his shoulders, and drove deeper, the new angle making her scream. He leaned down, sucking one nipple into his mouth while his cock hammered her g-spot relentlessly.
Hours later, after filling her pussy with load after load of cum, Jungkook pulled her close. "You're not going back to that club," he said, voice dark. "You're staying here. With me."
YN tried to protest-she wanted her freedom, her solo vacations, her quiet life-but Jungkook's possessiveness only grew. He had her phone tracked, bodyguards following her everywhere. If any man so much as looked at her, Jungkook dragged her into the nearest room and fucked her senseless, reminding her who she belonged to. He'd pin her down, spread her legs, and devour her pussy again and again until she was too weak to argue, his tongue and cock claiming every inch of her.
Even when she begged for space, he'd just smirk, push her thighs apart, and bury his face between them, licking and sucking until she came on his tongue, her protests dissolving into moans. Jungkook made sure YN's old life felt like a distant dream-her days now filled with his cock stretching her pussy, his cum dripping down her thighs, and his hands marking her as his. She was caged, owned, and he had no intention of ever letting her go.
Jungkook's jaw clenched as Jihoon walked through the penthouse doors like he owned the place. YN stood frozen between them, dressed in nothing but one of Jungkook's shirts that barely covered her ass. Jihoon's eyes flicked over her exposed thighs, then back to Jungkook.
"She's coming with me," Jihoon said flatly. "Contract says four years. She's not for sale."
Jungkook's nostrils flared. His gaze dropped to the way YN's nipples pressed against the thin fabric, the faint outline of her pussy visible where the shirt rode up. Memories slammed into him-her first night here, how tight and wet her cunt had been when he'd shoved his cock inside her for the first time. She'd never let anyone else touch her. Every dollar she'd earned at the club had been for rent, bills, survival. She'd danced, shook her ass, spread her legs on stage, but never once let a customer fuck her. He'd been the first. The only.
"Name your price," Jungkook growled, stepping closer. "I'll pay double what you're making off her."
Jihoon laughed, low and mocking. "She's not merchandise, Jungkook. She's under contract. Four years. After that, she's free. Until then, she dances when I say, and she doesn't spread for anyone but the stage."
YN shifted uncomfortably, the movement making the shirt lift higher. Jungkook's eyes locked on the bare slit between her thighs, still puffy from how hard he'd fucked her that morning. His cock twitched at the sight, but Jihoon's presence kept him from acting on it.
"She doesn't sleep around," Jungkook snapped. "You know that. She works for money, nothing else. I was the first cock she took. You really think I'm letting her walk out of here?"
Jihoon grabbed YN's wrist, pulling her toward the door. "She's mine for four years. You can have her after. Or you can keep trying to buy what isn't yours."
Jungkook's vision went red. He lunged, but Jihoon was already dragging YN into the hallway. Her bare feet padded against the marble, the shirt riding up to flash the curve of her ass with every step. Jungkook's hands shook as he watched them leave, his mind replaying every time he'd buried his face between her legs, tongue fucking her pussy until she squirted down his throat. She'd never given that to anyone else. And now Jihoon was taking her away.
The door slammed shut. Jungkook stood alone, cock straining against his pants, jealousy burning hotter than any bullet he'd ever taken. Four years. He'd find a way to break that contract. Or he'd make Jihoon regret ever thinking he could keep her from him.
Jungkook sat in the back of his blacked-out SUV, fingers drumming against the leather seat as he watched the club entrance. Jihoon had taken her. His YN. The woman whose pussy he'd claimed first, whose moans he'd pulled from her throat with his tongue and cock. She'd never let anyone else inside her. Every night she'd danced, she'd gone home alone. Until him. Now Jihoon thought he could keep her locked under contract for four years.
He wasn't waiting four years.
The plan started with surveillance. Jungkook had men tailing Jihoon day and night. They reported his routes, his meetings, the guards he kept around YN. She was staying in a small apartment above the club, guarded but not enough. Jungkook learned Jihoon's schedule down to the minute-when he arrived, when he left, when he was most vulnerable.
Three weeks later, Jungkook struck.
He waited until Jihoon was alone in his office above the club, counting cash from the night's take. Jungkook kicked the door open, gun raised. Jihoon reached for his own weapon but Jungkook was faster. One shot to the chest. Jihoon dropped, blood spreading across the floor. Jungkook stepped over him, grabbed the contract papers from the desk, and burned them in the metal trash can.
He found YN in the apartment upstairs. She was wearing nothing but a thin robe when he burst in. Her eyes widened at the sight of him, blood on his hands.
"Jungkook-what did you do?"
"Jihoon's dead," he said, voice flat. "Contract's gone. You're coming with me."
She backed away, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. His free hand slid under the robe, fingers finding her bare pussy. She was wet already-whether from fear or something else, he didn't care. He pushed two fingers inside her, curling them against her walls.
"You're mine now," he growled against her ear. "No more contracts. No more dancing for anyone but me."
He fucked her right there against the wall, lifting her leg and slamming his cock into her cunt until she came around him, sobbing his name. Then he carried her out to the waiting SUV, her thighs sticky with his cum.
Back at the penthouse, Jungkook didn't give her time to breathe. He stripped the robe off her, bent her over the kitchen counter, and ate her pussy from behind-tongue lapping at her folds, sucking her clit until she squirted down his chin. He flipped her over, spread her legs wide, and drove his cock deep, pounding her G-spot until she squirted again, soaking the marble floor.
He kept her there for hours. Fucking her in every room-against the windows overlooking the city, on the dining table, in the shower where he held her up and fucked her standing. Every time she tried to protest, he silenced her with his mouth on her nipples or his fingers in her ass.
"You wanted freedom," he said, thrusting harder. "This is your freedom now. You're free to be mine."
He tracked her phone, assigned bodyguards, and made sure every man who looked at her knew she belonged to him. When she tried to leave, he dragged her back by her hair and fucked her until she couldn't walk. He licked her pussy clean after every orgasm, claiming her with his tongue and cock until she stopped fighting.
Four years of the contract meant nothing now. Jihoon was dead. YN was his. And Jungkook would do anything-kill anyone-to keep her that way.
Jungkook woke to the sound of shattering glass. YN had smashed the bedroom window with a chair and was already halfway through the jagged frame, robe flapping around her thighs. He lunged, caught her ankle, and dragged her back inside. Blood smeared across the sill from a cut on her calf. She kicked and clawed, but he pinned her to the floor, cock already hard from the fight.
"You think you can run?" he snarled, yanking her legs apart. He shoved two fingers straight into her pussy, feeling her clench around the intrusion. She was dripping-fear or arousal, he didn't care. He pumped his fingers fast, thumb grinding her clit until her hips jerked involuntarily.
"Stop-Jungkook, please-"
He ignored her. He pulled his fingers out, sucked them clean, then flipped her onto her stomach. One hand fisted her hair, the other guided his cock to her entrance. He slammed in balls-deep in one thrust, stretching her tight cunt around him. She cried out, but he kept going, pounding her into the hardwood while blood from her cut leg smeared across his thigh.
"You're not leaving," he growled against her ear. "Jihoon's dead because of you. You're mine."
He fucked her harder, each thrust forcing a wet slap of skin on skin. When she tried to crawl away, he grabbed her hips and yanked her back, burying himself to the hilt. Her walls fluttered around him as she came, soaking his cock. He didn't stop. He flipped her again, spread her legs wide, and drove back in, watching her tits bounce with every brutal thrust.
Hours later, she lay limp on the ruined sheets, thighs sticky with his cum. Jungkook licked her clean-tongue dragging through her folds, sucking her swollen clit until she twitched and came again with a broken sob. He marked every inch of her: bite marks on her neck, fingerprints on her hips, his cum leaking from her pussy.
But YN wasn't done fighting.
She waited until he showered. She slipped out the service elevator, stole a guard's jacket, and made it to the street. Jungkook's men caught her two blocks away. They dragged her back, and he met them at the door, towel around his waist, water still dripping down his chest.
He didn't speak. He simply grabbed her by the throat and carried her to the bedroom. He tied her wrists to the headboard with his belt, spread her legs, and ate her pussy until she squirted across his face. Then he fucked her again-slow this time, deep, grinding against her G-spot until she begged him to stop. He didn't.
"You survive because I let you," he whispered, licking tears from her cheek. "Try again and I'll chain you to this bed."
She stopped running after that. But she never stopped looking for a way out. Every night he claimed her body, she planned. Every time he filled her with his cum, she counted the days until she could disappear.
Jungkook knew. He watched her eyes. He tightened the leash-more guards, less freedom, constant surveillance. Yet every time he fucked her, he felt the tension in her muscles, the way she came even while hating him. It only made him harder. He'd keep her. Break her. Remake her until she forgot how to want anything else.
And if she ever did escape, he'd burn the world to bring her back.
Jungkook woke to the sound of YN retching in the bathroom. He found her on her knees, gripping the toilet bowl, sweat beading along her spine. The test strip on the counter showed two pink lines. She turned, eyes wide with shock and something like hope.
"I'm pregnant," she whispered.
He dropped to his knees and pulled her against his chest. For the first time in months, the tension in her shoulders eased. She let him carry her back to bed, let him spread her thighs and press his mouth between her legs, tasting her slowly, reverently. His tongue circled her clit until her hips rocked and she came with a soft cry, thighs trembling around his head. He slid two fingers inside her, feeling the wet heat that now belonged to both of them.
They fucked carefully that night. He kept his thrusts shallow, one hand splayed over her still-flat belly while he filled her. She came twice, once around his cock and again when he licked his own cum from her pussy afterward.
The first trimester passed in a haze of nausea and careful sex. Jungkook learned to fuck her from behind so her breasts didn't ache. He learned to suck her nipples gently until milk beaded at the tips. She learned to ride him slowly, grinding her clit against his pelvis until she soaked his cock and the sheets beneath them.
At twelve weeks, she woke to blood between her legs.
The hospital was a blur of white coats and pitying eyes. The ultrasound showed no heartbeat. The doctor used words like "incompatible with life" and "spontaneous abortion." Jungkook held YN's hand while they scraped the remains of their child from her body. She didn't cry until they got home.
Then she didn't stop.
She stopped eating. Stopped showering. Stopped letting him touch her. When he tried to kiss her, she turned away. When he tried to finger her open, she closed her legs and sobbed. He backed off, but the distance grew. She spent days in the dark bedroom, staring at the ceiling while he handled business downstairs.
Three months after the miscarriage, she finally let him between her legs again. It was mechanical. She lay there while he licked her clit and fucked her with his fingers, but she didn't come. He came inside her anyway, marking her, trying to remind her she was still his. She didn't react.
The depression deepened. She stopped leaving the penthouse. Stopped dancing. Stopped speaking unless spoken to. Jungkook tried everything-new lingerie, new toys, new positions. Nothing worked. She let him use her body, but her mind was elsewhere.
Six months post-miscarriage, they got the test results.
"Asherman's syndrome," the specialist said. "Scar tissue from the D&C. Your uterus can't sustain a pregnancy. I'm sorry."
YN didn't speak for three days after that.
When she finally did, it was to tell Jungkook she wanted out. Not from him-from the possibility of ever being a mother. She wanted the parts removed. Wanted to be hollow. He refused.
"You're enough," he told her, pinning her wrists above her head while he ate her pussy until she came despite herself. "I don't need anything else."
She came, but she didn't believe him.
The adoption process took eighteen months. Jungkook pulled strings. Paid bribes. Threatened the right people. They brought home a three-year-old boy named Minjun whose parents had died in a car accident. YN held him for the first time and cried for three hours straight. Jungkook watched from the doorway, cock hard from the sight of her finally feeling something again.
That night, after Minjun fell asleep, Jungkook bent YN over the kitchen counter and fucked her until she squirted down her thighs. She came harder than she had in over a year, sobbing his name while he pounded her cervix. He came inside her, then licked her clean, sucking his own cum from her swollen pussy while she shook.
They got the dog two weeks later-a rescue pit bull named Shadow who immediately bonded with Minjun. The three of them became a unit. YN started smiling again. Started letting Jungkook fuck her in the shower while Minjun napped. Started riding his face in the living room while the dog slept at their feet.
Jungkook never stopped being possessive. He still tracked her phone, still had guards follow her to preschool drop-offs, still fucked her rough when she looked at other men too long. But something shifted. The desperation eased. She stopped trying to run. He stopped needing to chain her.
Minjun grew. Started calling YN "mom" and Jungkook "dad." Started asking for a sibling. They told him the truth-that some families are made differently. That love doesn't need blood. That night, after putting Minjun to bed, Jungkook fucked YN on the nursery floor, her legs wrapped around his waist while he whispered how perfect she was, how complete they were, how he'd kill anyone who tried to take this from them.
She came with tears on her cheeks, and for the first time since the miscarriage, they weren't from grief.
Years passed. Minjun started school. Shadow got old and gray around the muzzle. Jungkook's empire grew, but he came home every night to fuck his wife and read to his son. YN started dancing again-not at the club, but in their bedroom, for him. She let him film her sometimes, spreading her pussy for the camera while she fingered herself, then sending him the videos while he was at work. He always came home early those days, bending her over his desk and filling her until cum leaked down her thighs.
They never tried for another child. The specialist had been clear-her body couldn't carry one. But sometimes, on quiet nights, Jungkook would eat her out for hours, tongue fucking her hole while she came over and over, until she was too sensitive to move. He'd hold her afterward, one hand on her belly, and they'd talk about Minjun's future, about college, about the dog they might get after Shadow died.
She never stopped being his. He never stopped owning her. But the ownership changed. It became less about chains and more about choice. She chose to stay. He chose to let her.
On their eight anniversary, Jungkook took her to the beach house. Minjun stayed with a nanny. They spent three days naked, fucking on every surface. He tied her to the bed and edged her for hours, licking her clit until she begged, then denying her until she cried. When he finally let her come, she squirted so hard it soaked the mattress. He fucked her through it, then made her lick his cock clean while Shadow barked at seagulls outside.
That night, watching the sunset, YN turned to him.
"I used to think you stole my life," she said. "Now I think you gave me one I didn't know I wanted."
He kissed her, slow and deep, then carried her inside and fucked her against the glass door while the ocean crashed below. She came with his name on her lips and his cum dripping down her thighs, and for the first time in a decade, neither of them thought about running.
Minjun scMinjun school. Got into college. Moved out. Shadow died peacefully in his sleep at fourteen. They buried him in the backyard and got a new puppy-a golden retriever named Sunny who immediately claimed Jungkook's side of the bed.
YN started therapy. Started painting. Started fucking Jungkook in his office during lunch breaks, riding him in his chair while his men waited outside. He still tracked her, still growled when other men looked too long, still left bite marks on her thighs where only he could see them.
But the desperation was gone. The fear was gone. What remained was a quiet, bone-deep certainty: they had survived the worst thing, and everything after was bonus.
On their twelve anniversary, Jungkook woke her with his mouth between her legs. He licked her to three orgasms before sliding inside her, fucking her slow and deep while she moaned his name. When he came, he stayed inside her, softening, until she fell back asleep with his cum leaking out of her.
Later, over breakfast, she showed him the adoption papers.
"Minjun wants a sibling," she said. "For when we're gone."
Jungkook looked at the papers, then at her. At the woman who'd once tried to climb out a broken window to escape him. At the mother of his son. At the only person who'd ever made him feel anything close to peace.
"Then let's give him one," he said.
They started the process that afternoon. Spent the evening celebrating by fucking on the kitchen table, her legs over his shoulders while he pounded her until she squirted across the wood. Sunny barked at the noise. They didn't care.
That night, after, YN curled against Jungkook's chest and traced the scar on his ribs from the night he'd killed Jihoon.
"I used to hate you," she whispered.
"I know."
"Now I can't imagine existing without you."
He kissed her forehead, then rolled her onto her back and ate her pussy until she came again, thighs shaking, hands fisted in his hair. When she was done, he crawled up her body and slid inside her one more time, fucking her slow while she whispered his name like a prayer.
Outside, the city hummed. Inside, their home was warm and full. Minjun was grown. Sunny was snoring at the foot of the bed. And YN-his YN, his wife, his everything-was exactly where she belonged.
With him.
Forever.
