Help me, her eyes were saying. It hurts.

His eyes narrowed in a gross, sadistic smile.

Then, he held out his foot by her lips.

“Lick it,” he said.

Her eyes widened in disbelief.

“Lick what’s dirty off, and I’ll save you.”

He used his chin to point at the part of his boot where her blood had stained it.

Byul Lee was a prideful girl. And she grew up to be a prideful woman. If she were one of the seven deadly sins personified, she would be pride by far.

And fast forward a few years, here was some haughty man ordering her to lick his boot.

In exchange for her life.

* * *

Trigger warning: mentions of sexual assault

Troy Ziwipeak was used to seeing people crawl at his feet. He was guilty of being the one to make them crawl.

Not that he felt any guilt, though. In this day and age, people loved being told what to do. It stirred up their stale brain juices to listen blindly without thinking, tongues out and eyes hazy. Everybody wanted to please others, but didn’t want to think about how they would do that. By telling them exactly that how, he was doing them a favor.

It didn’t matter if he was in the streets or in bed.

He gave the orders. Others listened. They relinquished control, gave up thinking, and became the obedient omegas to his alpha.

He knew exactly what kind of effect he had on them.

For instance, let’s go back to the girl who was sobbing at him earlier. We’ll call her ‘Pig A.’ That was approximately how he saw her.

Pig A had started out as a bright-eyed individual with a slight preference for the bad boys. Her daddy was a rich guy with a trading company and made sure to raise his precious daughter like a princess, out of harm’s way and knowing nothing about the real world. She knew very little about real life but had a fascination for the dangerous kind of life she never had access to. She was perfectly seasoned to be of Troy’s interest.

At the tender age of 21, Pig A snuck out of her father’s purview, ditching her bodyguards, and into a nightclub. She was wearing a frilly pink dress reminiscent of a spring forest fairy and stuck out like a sore thumb amongst a crowd dressed in black lace bustier and leather skirts.

Her friends, dressed in much more appropriate hues than she was, dispersed nearly as soon as she paid for everyone’s cover. She was alone before she realized it. Looking around for her friends all lost and confused, she meandered her way to the bar.

The overworked bartender didn’t give her a single look. She was cute, sure, but in an A-list downtown club, cute girls were dime a dozen.

“Uhm, excuse me- hi-”

She struggled to catch the bartender’s attention, but kept getting elbowed by people who were more aggressively calling out their orders. Her pathetic attempts at being selected as the bartender’s next client was failing left and right. Her cheeks were radiating red in embarrassment. Girls taller than her stepped on her feet with their pointy stilettos, jerking out a tear from her eyes.

‘What was I thinking, coming here?’

She raised her foot up and rubbed it. There was bits of blood on her fingertips.

‘I don’t even know what to order. I should just go home.’

She was beginning to miss her California king-sized bed, bejeweled pink pillows, Netflix, and pints of Halo Top ice cream.

Just then, a group of three men approached her. They had an extra drink with them.

“Here you go, babe.”

The one in the front handed her the Long Island glass. He had a mohawk and was wearing a tacky red leather jacket. The two behind him were dressed similarly.

“Huh? Oh, ah- thank you.”

She said, taking the drink from his hand.

‘It’s true what they say! Guys do approach you first in places like this.’

She thought, trying to act as natural as possible. She was getting a bit excited.

“Where you from? Haven’t seen you around here.”

The man leaned by the bar.

“Oh- I, I live kind of far.”

She had on an awkward half-smile as someone shoved her from the side. She spilled half the drink on herself.

“Ah!”

She yelped at how cold it was. The man grabbed her by the wrist.

“Let’s go somewhere quieter. We have a table.”

By the limelight, she got a better look at his face. She was no doubt disappointed at how ugly these men were. They were nothing like the actors she saw on K-dramas and anime. But she got half-dragged Best, them anyway, pitter-pattering in her ballerina shoes inspired heels with pink ribbons wrapping up to her shins.

If only she had better friends who would have guided her through her first clubbing experience. If only she had better luck with men and didn’t attract the worst kind. You know, the kind that seek out girls who looked like they didn’t know what they were doing. The kind that would approach in groups in case those girls acted out. The kind that would roofie their drinks.

Troy was watching it all go down from the upstairs VIP lounge. He saw the good-for-nothing in the red leather jacket dissolve something in her drink. He saw the group of guys seat her deep in the middle of the sofa so she couldn’t get away. He saw them put their hands on her shoulder and her thighs. He saw her starting to sway her head and eventually fall into herself.

But that’s not when Troy approached Pig A. That would be no fun.

I repeat, if only Pig A had better luck with men.

* * *

Pig A opened her eyes, sprawled out on the velvet sofa of the underground club. Her head was pounding, and it wasn’t only due to the EDM that was busting out her ears.

“Ugh…where am I?”

A black AllSaints jacket slid down from her shoulders.

“You up?”

Troy said. Surprised, Pig A looked over at him. He was sitting in a velvet armchair across from her, legs in ripped jeans spread open.

“Who are you? Where are…the guys who…”

“The guys who tried to r*pe you?”

Troy cut her off. Her jaw dropped.

“They- they- they what?”

She stuttered, beginning to shake. She gripped onto the jacket, now on her thighs, until her knuckles were white.

“Don’t worry. You’re safe now.”

Troy rubbed his mouth on the back of his hand. A bit of blood smeared his lip. Her eyes widened.

“Did you…were you the one who saved me?”

Her lips trembled. The piercing pain in her head told her that she was in danger of sorts, even if she had no recollection of it. She had no memory or any other physical pain that may have given her a traumatic response to whatever that had happened. What she was being stimulated by, however, was this guy sitting in front of her. He was dark, mysterious, and most importantly - hot. Her heart skipped a beat. This was the K-drama moment that she had been waiting for; the situation for which she risked getting her credit cards cut off by her daddy.

She convinced herself what he was implying was true.

“Don’t come around to these parts of town now.”

Troy said, dodging her question. He got up and turned around to leave.

“Wait!”

Pig A got up and ran after him. It was the most forward thing she’d ever done. He was already at the doors marked by the glowing red exit sign. She fumbled around, bumping against the crowds of people swaying with drinks in their hands and grinding against each other.

“Sorry, sorry-”

She desperately squeezed herself through people. She finally popped out to the other side of the club and looked around. Troy was walking down the main avenue that the club was on.

“Wait!”

He kept walking.

“Excuse me! Sir! Wait, please!”

She kept calling after him. The people walking past him looked over to her with curious eyes. He finally looked past his shoulder, brows slightly furrowed.

“Yeah?” He said.

She caught up to him, trying to control her bated breath.

“Uhm- I-”

He raised a single eyebrow, hooking his thumbs in his pants pockets.

“Uhm…what’s your name?”

At her response, he let out a tired sigh and turned around.

“Don’t go! I- Uhm, at least let me say thank you for saving me.”

She grabbed onto his elbow.

“I'll buy you whatever you want.”

She went on. This always worked, with all her past boyfriends and current friends.

“I don’t want your money.”

Troy said, firmly shaking off her hand. She flinched, at a loss for words.

“Uhm… Then what do you want?”

“Nothing.” he said.

“I’ll give you anything. Do anything.”

She blurted out. He continued looking at her, crossing his arms in front of him.

He remained silent for a moment. Slowly, he opened his mouth.

“Take off your dress.”

Troy said, his voice tone calm and collected.

To be continued…