Week 6 // Nakyoung - Mindgasm

"Oh, you're back. This is what? The 3rd time this week?" You're already reaching for her favourite bottle of gin. You see more faces than you could ever hope to remember, but the regulars tend to cement themselves over time. The constants in the blur of colours and sounds. It's not exactly a ringing endorsement to become memorable at the bar.

"I'm the only reason you have a job."

"Naky, you barely pay for your drinks."

Nakyoung is wearing that smirk in the same way she wears that off-the-shoulder number - almost too casual but enough gravitas to lure in your gaze and keep it there. "You never ask me to."

"Last night you went out into the alley for a smoke and never came back."

This causes a small tilt to her head, just forward enough to darken her eyes in a way that says it before the words 'You know why' even come out of her mouth. "Thursday nights are dead anyway; there's just you here. Profits are bound to be low."

"But here you are, all dolled up midweek in this 'dead' bar."

"Well, it's definitely not for you," Nakyoung says, all coy.

"Oh, don't worry, I already know it's for everyone."

It earns a chuckle and a bite of her lip. She drums her nails across the wood as she waits for you to slide a gin and tonic into her grasp. Nakyoung does enjoy a classic, but that seems to be the only thing that's been consistent in the months you've known her. "And what exactly could you mean by that?" she says, just a little airy, keeping her eyes on her drink as she raises it for a sip.

"Just that you like the attention -"

"- or you think I'm a slut."

Her smile is only the slightest curl of her lips, a sign she's waiting for you to say it. That she wants you to.

You turn to wipe down the bar, leaving your back to her, fully knowing she's going to pick at the way you've dodged the question. The fabric of time is being stretched thin to the point that seconds feel like minutes at a time like this. You'd do it again just for the satisfaction of it.

"Have I been giving you the wrong impression?"

Her words are out of turn, but you answer anyway, not missing a beat. "I don't get impressions. You're just customers."

"Oh, please." Glass hits wood. Nakyoung places her glass down a little too hard, as if it almost slipped. The sound makes you turn, and there's that sly grin again. "You probably have a hundred little judgements in your head about everyone. Maybe a thousand about me."

"Maybe," you're quick to agree, because she's right. "But I'm paid to be nice, not to share them."

"As you said, I don't pay you." God, she's got an arrogance about her now, and you would love to just knock her down a peg. Even those little puppy eyes don't excuse it. A bit too provocative, a little too pretty. "Go on, tell me, I'm dying to know what you think of me, or are you scared?"

"I never said scared."

"Scared." Ugh, this woman and her enunciation, stretching out the syllable like she's testing it in her mouth. Look, you both know what she's fishing for, but making her wait for it is what's really going to get to her. She won't like the silence you give her, forcing her to be the first to speak again, but speak she does. "I'm not the sort to hold a grudge, you know."

"Really now?" You've bitten. She held out the bait and you just went right ahead and took it. She looks so proud of herself. "So you wouldn't be mad if I called you an entitled brat?"

Her tongue sweeps her teeth. She looks like she wants to say something else. "Why would you think that?"

"Rich girl. Silly girl." You're speaking low to ensure only Nakyoung can hear. "Designer dress. High heels. Short hair. Bare shoulders and..."

"And what?" She has her lips between her teeth, her eyes fluttering just slightly. "And what?"

"Low-cut dress to show off those little tits of yours. Most of your legs on display. Red lips and those puppy dog eyes, begging to be told to do something. Just the type to go running to daddy if I said anything too mean."

She takes a sharp inhale. Her jaw slackens. A long out-breath, full of satisfaction. So fucking shameless. "Yeah?"

"You are a slut. A whore. A tease and an attention seeker."

"Fuck." Her eyes roll back a little, she re-bites her lip, and her cheeks turn pink at the edges. "Don't stop." Even her words come out a little breathy.

"You love being a dumb bitch, don't you? Don't you?"

"Yes." It's quiet - meek. Her fingers flex and grip her glass.

"Little slut," you snap. She shudders. "You're getting off on this, aren't you?"

"Yes," she repeats, quieter still.

You're leaning over the bar, you can smell her floral perfume and the need coming off her in waves. Nakyoung's gaze is heavy, still looking at her glass, clearly enjoying the way your words are landing. "I knew it. You loved it so rough last night. You're a dirty whore."

There's a whimper. A fucking whimper - just like that.

Quick glance down, and you see her press her bare thighs together. She rubs them like she's trying to get some relief, to relieve the ache. The girl must be soaked. Her eyes flick up just for a second, and there is a haze over them. She's so wet and needy, it's pathetic. She's enjoying this way too much.

"Could come round there and finger you for everyone to see. Like you're some cheap whore who puts on a show for some free drinks."

"You could." She's struggling to even get the words out. Nakyoung breathes heavily. "I'm a cheap whore."

"Mmm, that you are. Dumb, cheap slut." You reach out a hand and graze her chin with your knuckles, just the smallest contact, and she closes her eyes and whimpers again.

"Oh god -" Nakyoung closes her eyes tight and grits her teeth. "Fuck, I'm -"

"Oh wow. Such an easy whore that you're going to cum from this?" You scoff. "It would almost be cute if it wasn't so pathetic."

Short and sharp breaths. Nakyoung's hand goes to her neck, and she grips it. Her neck craning as she tilts her head back. Thighs clenched.

"Silly little slut. Not even touching you, and you're about to spoil your panties. This bar might be dead, but you're still cumming in public. God, you're filthy."

That's all she needs. You watch the twitch run through her body, and a moan escapes as if it has been punched out of her. Almost inaudible gasps follow before her eyes blink open, dazed and heavy.

"Get yourself together, you filthy slut. You've made a mess."

There's a long silence. You're both staring at each other. You have this little grin on your face, and Nakyoung is still trying to remember how to breathe. There's a singular bead of sweat on her temple, carrying the weight of all your words. She's still gripping her neck like it's keeping her tethered to this plane. The little trembles in her hands are evidence enough of just how hard she came, right there on the bar stool.

You chuckle quietly as you start to pour her another drink.

"You're an asshole," she eventually says, letting go of her neck and smoothing out her dress.

"You're the one who gets off on it," you reply, sliding the glass toward her. Nakyoung takes it, and she drinks it in one. She grimaces.

"I'm not paying you for the drinks."