Attitude

An Yujin was alone, waiting in a room where no unwelcome sound could escape or enter, in a hotel so highly rated that it was the perfect kind of discreet, on a night that Yujin herself would never admit was planned so perfectly that your schedule, Yuri’s, and hers would align without Wonyoung. 

It was a blurry haze between standing outside the hotel room door with Yuri watching Yujin get ready for the two of you and Yuri digging her fingernails into Yujin’s scalp to hold her in place while Yujin desperately tries to free herself. The symphony is perfect, one you could never tire from: Yujin plays fighting back, of course, though with every attempt at pulling back she makes, Yuri is right behind her to shove her back down again. The clacking of the metal that holds the cuffs together grows louder and louder as Yujin fights, to no avail. The sharp ringing of the bells on her nipple clamps pierce through the deep tones of Yuri violating her throat with your throbbing length. You even hear the tiny saliva bubbles form and pop as the spider gag pries her mouth open, making sure she doesn’t, in Yuri’s words, misbehave. 

It’s that beautiful gluck-gluck-gluck of her throat on your cock that you sorely missed. Yujin was half-right that Wonyoung couldn’t do it like she could—Wonyoung’s style is vastly different. Where the sweet, delicate princess would shower you with love and affection, trying to tease you with her cute little pleas for what she wants, the queen would be rough, merciless, only ever obedient to the one who could take it all away. So, as Yuri snakes her fingers through Yujin’s hair, grabbing what she can of those smooth, shiny locks, Yuri pushes down, relishing in the sensation that Yujin gives her: that whatever Yuri puts her through, it’s one step closer to making Yujin thank her.

Using that fistful of hair, Yuri rips her off of your cock, tossing her away like she was nothing more than a toy she’d begun to get bored of. Yujin stumbles onto the floor, hair sticking to her forehead and cheeks, legs folded awkwardly under her as she gasps and retches for breath. It’s music to your ears, each cough that forces its way through her throat, trying like hell to clear her airways of the spit crisscrossing in them. Each violent gag is another thread severed, giving her some much needed space to take in fresh air once more. The bells on her clamps jingle brightly despite the swollen nubs they pinch, leading to more of Yujin's labored breaths.

Once she settles, she shoots you both a look from the corner of her eye: you show her your expression, hungry for what you can take from her, Yuri delighting in her disheveled state. There’s that signature seething hatred in Yujin’s eyes, past the tears that well up and try to run down her cheeks, as she watches Yuri take long, slow strokes of your cock, knowing that you’ll be using her throat again soon. The quiver of her lip betrays her fear, as more and more of her saliva drips uselessly onto the floor where her mouth rests, not even working up the courage to try and get it under control again in anticipation of what her unnie is about to do to her. It’s plain as day on her face—the way she lies on the ground, looking up at you and Yuri, not knowing whether she wants to leave or stay. One thing’s clear: she intends to make you earn her. 

You stand, taking Yuri’s sinister smile as permission. It’s slow, deliberate steps towards her position on the floor, and it’s fucking delicious how she squirms. Yujin makes a genuine attempt to sit back up onto her legs, but the way she only looks up at you, still pathetically folded over on the rough, scratchy carpet, as Yuri’s feet come close enough to her face for her to kiss, and the deep and steady exhale she gives out as her throat finally settles down only spurs Yuri on more. 

It's all her fault, it has to be. She shouldn't have been so gaudy, so arrogant. “I bet you I can,” as if she could take it back. She even said it with the shit-eatingest grin you've ever seen, let alone on someone like her. Ahn Yujin has always been the haughty type, despite everyone who knows only the idol side of her could argue against, but only rarely has she ever bitten off more than she can chew. You couldn’t deny that small shard of hesitation when you were informed of what Yujin had in store, but when she herself, Yuri, and even Wonyoung signed off on it, not knowing that Yujin would write her out anyway. No, tonight was all about the queen. 

Yuri plants her foot firmly into Yujin’s cheek, squishing her face into the soon-ruined carpet. Yujin whimpers as the rough synthetic wool scrapes against her face, no doubt leaving marks on her soft skin, as Yuri pushes harder and harder and harder. “Fucking say something,” she growls, along with another sharp stomp on Yujin’s ear, over and over again, before Yujin finally caves and gasps, “Hloh… I han’h…” Once she’s had her fun, she takes her sole off of Yujin’s face and kicks her over, forcing Yujin to splay on her back, defenseless on the floor. The rise and falls of her chest is mesmerizing, accentuated even further by Yujin having landed unceremoniously onto her cuffed hands. You can tell by the way her brow furrows and her back tries to shift that she’s dying for a less uncomfortable angle, so you help her. 

Ball up her hair in your fist again, make sure no loose strands can escape. You’re everything but gentle with how you yank her back up onto her knees, and Yuri takes the sickest pleasure in the grunt that escapes from Yujin’s sorry throat. Yuri kneels in front of her, eye to eye, grabbing her face and forcing all of Yujin’s attention on her and her alone. “What are you?” she demands of Yujin, while the exhaustion and fear swirl and clash in Yujin’s eyes. When Yujin takes more than four seconds to answer, a sharp slap lands on her cheek, causing her to sway harshly against your hand. She moans as the red palmprint blooms on her face, and the handcuffs clatter behind her as she remembers they were there at all.

Yuri teases, “What are you,” she growls right in Yujin’s face, never mind the usual height difference between them or the typical lovey-dovey gaze they used to offer each other all the time. Yuri takes a wicked sort of pleasure seeing her beloved dongsaeng, all grown up into a charming leader of a new generation girl group of her own, on her knees and shivering with fear or anticipation or both of what she’s about to say. “What,” she takes Yujin’s face in her hand, squishing her cheeks, “are,” looks her straight in the eye, sending off a wave that only sends more of that tantalizing fear into the pit of Yujin’s stomach, “you?” nose-to-nose with her now, making it so that they’re exchanging every other breath between one another, depriving each other of fresh oxygen that would have allowed either gain back any semblance of calm. 

Past the lump in her throat, through the suffocating strands of spit and precum in her airway, paying no mind to the ache that wraps all around the inside of her neck, “H-hour hluhh,” Yujin chokes out, having surrendered her will to whatever her unnie wants. Yet her brow betrays her, creasing as she braces herself when Yuri raises her hand again. Her shoulders square despite not seeing it held up high, raring to descend on some random, poor, sorry spot of already-aching skin. Yujin tries to shrink down as best she can, leaning away from Yuri’s hand even though she knows she has to take it. 

“Yujin,” Yuri finally says, while watching Yujin’s lip quiver as she holds back fearful sobs, “have a little dignity. Show me that pretty smile of yours,” yet you know it’s all a lie. The moment Yujin rights herself, presents her face, chest, neck for Yuri’s hand, her unnie will snatch the opportunity to hurt her again. A simple click of a button somewhere on the back of Yujin’s head, and the spider gag snaps apart and releases all tension. It sends Yujin sputtering past her aching jaw, trying to whine at the same time her tears fall in relief of her poor mouth—that sort of relief is the most vile promise Yuri could have possibly made to her. 

You know this. Yuri knows this. And worst of all, Yujin herself knows this.

“I f-fucking hate you.” Yujin spits, followed by a deep breath, Yuri having finally taken the first chip away at her psyche. Yujin’s shoulders drop, her jaw slacks ever so slightly, a long line of spit falls from her bottom lip to her lap with nothing but skin to catch it. She’s learning, Yuri signals with a tilt of her head to show you, showing off how proud she is of her lovely Yujin finally giving in. To the rest of the world, she’s a queen: regal, alluring, dangerous. But to you and especially to Yuri, nothing more than a simple set of holes to have fun with only to get bored of eventually. But not yet. 

The sight enthralls you: Ahn Yujin, legs folded underneath and stained red in spots and bruises that you know will take ages to heal properly. Breasts on full display, bells chiming merrily with each labored rise and fall of her chest. The marks around her mouth from the spider gag's silicone hooks pulling her lips wide apart. 

“Wonyoung would have taken this,” Yuri teases, “She would have taken this so well. No crying, no choking, no nothing.” The horrid smile never leaves her lips as she leads Yujin’s face back to your cock, panic once again rising in her eyes despite knowing this is exactly what she asked for. “Wonyoung would just,” stopping two millimeters short of your tip, so close that Yujin could almost taste you, “just take it. She’d thank us. Thank me. Such a sweet princess,” and she finally, fully, dangerously shoves her face right into your lap again. You feel Yujin’s nose on your pelvic area even before you register the warmth of her throat again. She tightens and constricts, desperately trying her hardest to take you longer and longer. And through it all, Yuri uses that sweet singsong voice of hers in the most twisted way: screaming into Yujin’s ear “You don’t deserve this,” as she holds her down. Yujin thrashes against her handcuffs, trying to kick herself up onto her feet at the very least, all the while the ringing in her ears fights against the ringing of the bells on her nipples. “Wonyoung is the farthest thing from you,” now on Yujin’s other ear, quietly now, “Wonyoung is good.”

It was true. More than just good, Wonyoung is an angel. Depraved, sure, “I can’t wait for our next session” and “No condoms, unnie, I’ll be on the pill” whenever the topic had come up. After all, she needed it the most—the prim and proper princess, the nation’s granddaughter, the apple of every brand’s eye needs some way to let off the steam. And her beloved Yuri unnie was ever so gracious to share you with her, with them. But not now. Wonyoung had to wait. 

It was just bad timing, needing to leave Yujin alone like that. It’s not like she could just leave Paris and come back home just for something like this. Yujin was more than generous, letting Wonyoung in on the details and setup, including her “I bet you I can take him deeper” gossiped through a video call between the two of them in some off hour in the middle of the night. What was she supposed to say back, “No, wait for me, I wanna take him too,” sounding like the needy, whiny princess Yujin has always teased her for being? No, Wonyoung had to wait. 

Right now, Yuri is in love with the control, keeping the pace of Yujin’s head steady and fast on your length. You revel in the sight: Yujin’s mascara mixed with neverending tears runs down her cheeks, the snot that drips from her nose and falls onto the base of your cock that Yujin can’t bring herself of swallow, the forceful gluck-gluck-gluck her throat makes as the bulge near her Adam’s apple comes and goes with every thrust. 

Yujin is just about turning blue, gagging sounds filling the room, Yuri purring at her beloved dongsaeng as she makes attempt after sorry attempt to pleasure you. Yujin tries her hardest to shake her head no, but with the way her unnie holds her ponytail only allows her so much wiggle room before Yujin herself is asking to have her hair pulled whichever way. The moment Yuri finally lets her breathe, yanking her off of your length, has Yujin gasping desperately for air. Her throat throbs like never before. “You’re not good like Wonyoung is. You’ll never even compare.” 

“F-Fuck y—” is all Yujin can manage before she’s kicked back against the nearby wall. It knocks her hard-earned breath straight out of her lungs, and before she slumps to the side, Yuri catches her. “Un-nie, I—”

“One last chance,” Yuri interrupts. She raises Yujin’s face by the chin with nothing but her finger, forcing eye contact. There was no escape for her—Yujin is staying because she wants to. “What are you?”

It’s plain as day that the panic that once spread through her features was beginning to fade. Where there was fear, now there’s just stark, glaring nothingness. “I-I’m…” voice shaking, fear laced through every pause she tries to overcome.  Yujin’s expression softens to a blank, and Yuri loves it. “I’m y-your slut, unnie…”

Satisfied, Yuri leads her along, finger still hooked under Yujin’s chin, as Yujin crawls back towards you. Her knees drag on the carpet, but she’s past caring. Her eyes lock onto your tip, licking her lips at the bead of precum that forms, wanting nothing more than to take it for herself. The only thing keeping her from taking you to the back of her throat again is that one singular slender finger Yuri keeps on her chin, and the way Yujin looks up at her, like the puppy she knows she is, makes Yuri fall ever so deeper in love with what she is. 

Yuri’s finger leaves Yujin’s chin, slowly, gently. The momentary relief has Yujin dropping her head for just a split second, before promptly slobbering all over your cock again. You almost don’t mind her full, plump lips peppering your shaft with wet kisses and light sucks, nearly failing to register the little smooches and whimpers she makes with every drop of precum she laps right up. And once she feels a familiar pressure on the back of her head, Yujin knows she finally has permission. 

It starts with a well-placed kiss on your tip. Then another. And another still. Before either of you know it, Yuri has already increased the pressure on Yujin’s nape, guiding her along, guiding her down. With every passing moment, more and more of your length disappears into Yujin’s mouth. Her cheeks hollow, her tongue strokes the underside of your cock, fresh tears start welling up in the corners of her eyes as it gets progressively tighter the deeper into her mouth you go. The heat from her breath, the sickly sweet smell of her drying saliva clinging to her, and the sight—Ahn Yujin, not even two hours ago, sitting on the bed with her arms crossed, hair done up in a high ponytail, in a stage outfit you already know has thousands of men pining for even just a taste of her—now on her knees, in nothing but a pair of handcuffs, bells jingling brightly on her nipples, and taking your cock as deep into her mouth-pussy as Yuri wants. The black streaks grow wider with every tear that runs down her face. You would ruin her right now if you could, but tonight this isn’t about you. Hell, it’s barely about Yujin. All she is now is a toy to be used, and not even by you. 

In one fell swoop, Yuri forces Yujin’s head down all the way, meeting her nose to your pelvic area once more. A resounding “Glhhkk” escapes past your cock, while you feel the searing warmth of her throat muscles wrapping around you in sporadic jerks, massaging your entire length. Yujin’s hair is wrought into a messy, frazzled ponytail, and Yuri decides it’s time to finish up. 

She pulls back, so quickly and so far, that in half a second only your tip stays in Yujin’s mouth. She gags and gasps at the sudden jerk of motion, barely registering being made to go down again. And again. And again still. It’s that signature gluck-gluck-gluck that Yuri absolutely loves hearing, and by God will she use Yujin to hear it. With every thrust, more of Yujin’s slobber flies away from her mouth, from her face, and poor Yujin could beg for mercy or more, you could never know. You go along Yuri, humping Yujin’s face in time, and with the way Yujin looks up at the pair of you: eyes blank yet loving, the light of consciousness seemingly fading in and out inside them, brings you ever closer to climax. 

And finally, with one last kiss from Yuri, you’re pushed over the edge. Your hand meets Yuri’s on the back of Yujin’s head, helping her push Yujin’s face down further than all three of you would ever think possible. Your warm seed floods her throat, slithering down into her stomach without any regard for her. Yuri moans as you give her a particularly harsh bite on her lower lip, and with it still between your teeth, “Fucking give it to her, oppa. Make sure she drowns.” Her arm tightens around your neck, pulling you even closer, as you shoot rope after rope of cum down Yujin’s sorry throat. Through it all, Yuri bobs Yujin’s head onto your cock, making sure that she wrings out every single drop from you, past all of Yujin’s grunts, moans, and would-be pleas for mercy. 

Then, Yuri grabs Yujin’s hair, throws her onto her back on the floor again. A nasty cough here, a horrid gag there, all the while Yujin struggles to recover from the brutal skullfucking her unnie subjected her to. She thrashes and folds on the carpet, desperate for any air to make its way into her lungs past the massive load you planted right in her throat. She retches deep in her chest, sputtering out spit and cum and everything else, and Yuri only spares her a moment of attention before pushing you backwards onto the bed again. 

She licks her lips, sucks on your neck, breathes a warm exhale right in front of your face, “My turn.” 

Breathlessly, “Yuri, please, five minutes—”

“Shut the fuck up,” she breathes, already snuggling up to you, squishing her breasts against your chest, making sure you feel her tits on your skin even past the thick, obtrusive top she’s still fucking wearing. She wraps her arms around your neck and smiles one of the sweetest smiles ever—the ones she reserves only for you—as if she didn’t just force the Ahn Yujin to take your load down her throat and then throw her away like nothing. “I love you, Oppa. Now, won’t you let me have my turn?”