Those words echo in your head like a reverberation. You can't believe this is happening to you; you can't believe you got yourself into this. You even signed a contract.

You have no idea how you look right now, you just hope you don't seem ridiculous, pathetic. You wonder if the fear is written on your face, if Jungkook can tell with just one look that you're a fraud: you're playing a role that doesn't belong to you in the hope of getting a convenient result.

You couldn't say what scares you more: the monstrous size of his sex, or the violence that every gesture and word of his exudes.

This man is a beast.

The thought flashes through your mind as you slide to your knees. His huge erection towers inches from your face, and you can smell its musky, wild scent. You feel a sense of disgust as you bring your lips closer to that thing. You wonder if all men have sizes like that. It's something you don't think you'll ever find out.

You realize you have no idea how to start, but you know you have to do it, soon, before Jungkook loses his patience and decides to kick you out of his house. If he did, goodbye money, goodbye medicine, goodbye life.

You gather your courage.

You reach out and massage his turgid shaft, deciding to treat it like an ice pop. You part your lips and press your tongue against his skin, tracing the bulge of a vein. You hear Jungkook grunt as if he's trying to hold back, you can't tell if it's a good sign or not.

When his hand plunges into your hair and pulls you away from his sex, you realize his gaze is sullen. Angry.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asks, snarling. His dark voice makes your knees tremble against the floor.

"Don't you like it?" you ask, hesitant.

"How could I like it? If you lick me there, I don't feel anything. You have to suck the tip."

The tip?

You look at the large, reddened head of Jungkook's cock and feel… uneasy. But you also feel something else, an inexplicable warmth that starts between your legs. You blush as an unpleasant sensation focuses on your most sensitive spot. Your instinct is to squeeze your thighs together, but as soon as you do, you feel something nice. Something that makes that spot even hotter.

You sigh as you let your tongue lap at Jungkook's glans. His hand rests on your nape and presses down, pushing you closer to his sensitive tip. You squint and open your mouth wider, his large head pushing between your lips, making you emit a muffled moan.

It's disgusting.

"Christ…" he sighs, throwing his head back. "You really suck at this, huh? Stay still. It's better," he says, and then his fingers tangle in your hair. You barely have time to wonder what he means before he starts rocking his hips. Your eyes widen in surprise as Jungkook's sex forces its way into your mouth, plunging against your tongue, towards your throat.

God. You feel like you're about to choke…

Your throat contracts instinctively as your eyes water. If Jungkook notices, he doesn't seem to care. He keeps thrusting into your mouth, moving his hips obscenely, abusing your lips that redden and rub against the shaft that plunges with increasing greed.

"Touch my balls," he orders. His voice is hoarse.

You're so stunned by what's happening that you don't react for several seconds. Then he pulls your hair painfully, and you snap out of your stupor. You raise your hand and start massaging his testicles while he, not for a moment, stops thrusting into your mouth.

"Don't you dare spit," he threatens.

A moment later, a warm, white liquid is filling your mouth.

You try to swallow it as a tear streaks your face. You're not crying, but the effort and intensity of what just happened make it inevitable. A trickle of Jungkook's pleasure runs down your chin. He pulls out of your mouth in one swift motion and presses his glans, wet with semen and saliva, against your cheek.

"You're not good at all. You'll have to improve," he says, his breath a little shorter.

He finally releases your hair from his grip and pushes you away. You fall to your palms. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you feel like you're about to have a heart attack.

You hear the sound of a zipper, and you realize he's zipped up his pants. He sits on the couch and picks up the paper. You don't know if he's actually reading it or just pretending, you just know you're taking the opportunity to recover.

You just sucked a man's cock. Or would it be more accurate to say you just let a man fuck your mouth?

You're the same girl who walked through that door earlier, yet you already feel like a stranger, someone you can't recognize.

You wipe your chin with the palm of your hand and try to fight the nausea.

You give yourself a few more moments before pulling yourself up.

You don't even know where you find the courage to speak, but it comes out.

"I want to be paid every day," you say.

He widens his eyes, then gives a half-grin. "You think that shitty blowjob you gave me is worth 30 million won?"

No. Obviously it wasn't. You know that if you admitted it, though, you'd lose. "Those are our terms," you say.

"Yeah."

You're surprised it was that easy.

Jungkook gets up and retrieves something from his wallet — it's a checkbook. He starts writing the amount, then tears it off and throws it to you. Having to pick it up as it falls is humiliating, but you do it anyway.

"Why do you need so much money?" he asks, curious.

You stand up and slip the check into your bag.

"It's none of your business," you say.

He looks you straight in the eye. For a moment, you think your irreverence will make him angry, and he'll hit you somewhere, but he doesn't do anything.

"You're right. It's none of my business," he says instead. "To be honest, I don't give a damn about your reasons. All I care about is emptying my balls. You're a woman, right? You're biologically born to do it. You have an advantage."

You hate every word he says. If you didn't need the money, you'd punch this windbag in the face, even though you know he'd neutralize you and make you pay for it in less than a second.

You don't say a word. You wouldn't have anything nice to say anyway.

"I'm leaving," you say at that point. "If there's nothing else."

"Tsk," Jungkook hisses, then leans back against the couch, relaxed and nonchalant. "Do as you please. But I expect you to be back here tomorrow night."

Tomorrow night? Already?

"Okay," you say.

You both remain silent long enough for you to realize there will be no more words. You retrieve your bag and walk through the apartment, then the hallway. You notice how everything in that house seems expensive, yet masculine. It's the typical home a rich, single man would have: a house where there's no trace of grace, just necessary, useful, immediate things.

You close the door behind you as soon as you're outside. You sigh, relieved that this terrible day is over. You look for a mint in your bag, but you can't find one.

You'll have to keep that nasty taste in your mouth until you get home. You take the elevator, then leave the building.

The doorman greets you, and you give a brief nod, before stepping through the doors and finding yourself on the street.

The city is much emptier than before, even in this usually crowded area. You go down to the subway, validate your return ticket, and catch the train just in time.

Throughout the journey, your mind is full of the usual thoughts. You can't help but wonder if you did the right thing in accepting this job… Then you look at your pale hands, your bony wrists, your angular knees, and you realize that maybe it's the only really positive thing you've ever done, that's ever happened to you.

The journey is long, and you risk falling asleep along the way, but somehow you manage to pull yourself together in time to get off at your stop. The train departs again, and the platform is plunged into silence. You're the only two people who got off at this stop. You walk quickly through the underground tunnels.

You feel tired, you need a shower and to wash this day off you. You need to lie down on your futon and sleep for eight straight hours, not think about anything, face tomorrow as if you didn't have to go back to Jungkook again.

The steps are shiny from the rain, you notice as you climb to the surface, being careful not to slip. Your shoes have smooth soles, but you have good balance, you know how to place your feet. You're almost halfway up the stairs when you feel something pull you down violently, yanking your bag so hard that you fall backward.

You tumble down the stairs and see a man running back up the steps, holding your bag tightly in his arms.

It's the same man you got off the subway car with, you realize in an instant, before hitting your head on the ground.

The pain is dull.

Your ears are ringing terribly.

A moment later, it's all dark.