Needless to say, you've never been in a sex club before. You didn't even know they could exist, places called sex clubs. You don't have the faintest idea what happens inside these places, despite the rather explicit name. Are there prostitutes? Paid escorts? In that case, should you pretend to be comfortable, as if you were a regular?

Obviously, it would be ridiculous even to try. If your acting skills are usually terrible, now that you're on inhibitors, it can only be even worse. You wouldn't manage to be convincing even if you tried—and besides, since you wouldn't even know where to start trying, it's simply out of the question.

Jungkook walks past you as if you were some kind of valet, an assistant following him but not really with him. The staff members greet him with reverence, the same meek respect shown towards a client who brings lots and lots of money to the establishment. Jungkook only turns towards you when he reaches a dark door set against the curved wall of the lobby. Shiny black marble stretches up to the ceiling where violet LEDs emit an intense light.

“Hurry up?” he urges you, and as much as the high heels you're wearing allow, you quicken your pace. Obviously, you risk twisting an ankle at least a couple of times. Obviously, Jungkook's expression only grows more impatient.
When you reach him, he at least deigns to make the gallant gesture of holding the door open. You enter what is a dark room, smelling of vanilla and cinnamon. A huge round bed dominates the center of the room, softly lit while the rest of the room seems swallowed by darkness. Fixed to the ceiling is a canopy of the same shape from which hang light drapes in warm colors. You stare at the bed and wonder why Jungkook brought you to a place like this. You could ask, sure, but what good would it do? You'll know the answer soon enough anyway.

“Sit on the bed,” he orders you, while taking off his watch and starting to unbutton his shirt. From the darkness, he grabs an armchair by the back and drags it noisily until it's perfectly in front of the bed. You stare at the armchair and then at Jungkook, not understanding. When he sits down on it, you're even more confused. The idea creeps into your mind that he simply wants to watch you—maybe he'll ask you to put on a show, to masturbate to orgasm for him. The more this thought takes shape in your mind, the more possible it seems, until that possibility becomes simply obvious. You could surprise him and spread your legs for him, but the thought of appearing uninhibited makes you think you'd end up regretting it—Jungkook is passionate and tempestuous even without you provoking him.

So, you remain still. You wait for him to say something.

For a while, though, Jungkook says nothing.

He sits on the armchair and continues to watch you. Your eyes get lost in his, pitch black, and for a moment it almost feels like you're losing yourself in them, as if they were drawing you into their oblivion, hypnotizing you. You're so lost in this crazy trance that you don't notice a man approaching you. He comes up behind you; the first thing you feel of him is his hand touching your breast. You flinch, start to pull back, but Jungkook immediately scolds you.

“What do you think you're doing?” he asks, irritated.

You freeze, your eyes widen, your heart pounds in your throat. If you spoke now, your voice would be high-pitched, scared. You would tell him that other people weren't mentioned in your contract. You would tell him you don't want this. You would tell him a thousand things. But you say nothing, nothing at all.

The man's hand slips into the side slit of your dress and touches your breast again. His fingers caress your nipple and you gasp, while your sex between your legs grows warmer, wetter.

Jungkook crosses his legs. He looks bored. The man, meanwhile, starts kissing your neck. You turn your head to look at his face and notice he has a mask concealing his eyes. His hand keeps touching your breast, while his left begins to roam over your thigh.

You watch the man's hand reach the scarlet hem of your dress. It goes past it, slips between your legs. His warm fingers brush against your sex, but only for a moment. Then, they move lower, down to brush the opening of your back entrance.

You turn red in an instant and this time you let out a loud squeak.

“Are you scared?” Jungkook asks, amused.

The man behind you pants excitedly as he keeps kissing your neck, then his finger begins to force its way into your tight hole, which clenches and tries to resist even though you're sure it would be much better not to and try to relax instead... as much as possible. You feel sick, even nauseous. You hate everything, you hate Jungkook, and you hate the man doing this to you... but deep down, is he really the one doing this to you? Isn't it rather you?

If you wanted to leave, there would be no chain tying you down. Jungkook wouldn't follow you or take you by force to bring you back... and this stranger certainly wouldn't either. No... As absurd and alien as it may seem even to yourself, all of this is consensual. It's happening because you are allowing it to happen. Whether you like it or not doesn't change the basis of this equation. You have more control than you imagine. The problem lies more in the advantages... And by leaving, you'd have absolutely none.

“Does it hurt, little one?” the deep-voiced man asks.

You shake your head. It's not pain, just discomfort. The finger sinks all the way inside you and starts moving in a funny way, like an earthworm sadly returning to its burrow. It's almost amusing. At least until he forces a second finger into you as well, and then you really start to feel some pain.

You press your lips together tightly so as not to make even a sound. The man's fingers keep pulling at your skin to stretch you open, his breath growing ragged in your ear as he moves his hand with now violent, ruthless jerks.
Jungkook watches this scene as if he didn't care at all. He's not distracted, obviously, his eyes register everything, but he doesn't seem excited or intrigued. Suddenly you wonder if he isn't really testing you—yet compared to before, you feel you were mistaken. What he wants to see is something else. Maybe he wants to see if you really have no limits, as you had promised?

The man suddenly pulls his fingers out of your small, abused hole, and you gasp for air. Your head spins and you press your palms against the mattress to keep from falling somewhere. You feel the weight of his body shift and you finally manage to look at him. He's a large, powerful man, probably about six foot three. From his build, he could be an athlete. Maybe a rugby player.

Since you're turned to look at him, you don't realize Jungkook has approached the bed until you feel his index and middle fingers rest on your chin. He turns your face so that you're forced to look him in the eyes. You hold your breath, for some reason. You feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest and you simply wonder what will happen now.

“Are you an obedient little pet?” he asks you.

You widen your eyes for a moment. You know what you have to do. Nod. And so you nod, hoping it's the correct answer. Jungkook's face doesn't change one bit. It's impossible to say for sure if he's satisfied or not. You can only think that, if he weren't, then his reaction would be different... Since you're starting to know him, you imagine it would be wrathful, angry.

“Good. Good girl,” he says, pressing the pad of his thumb against your lips. You flinch, then part your lips when his gesture becomes insistent. The joint of his thumb sinks in and brushes against your tongue, his eyes locking with yours. “Suck him off,” he orders you.

Something inside you breaks. 

You don't know what it is. 

You don't even ask yourself. 

Jungkook pushes his thumb into your mouth until it touches your uvula, but pulls it back before you start to cough. Meanwhile, his friend—or whoever that man is—gets off the bed and stands before you. Now he's naked, his large cock looms just inches from your face. You don't even have the courage to look up at this man's masked face. 

You reach out your hand to touch the turgid shaft that twitches under your touch, impatient. You open your mouth and let the large head slide between your lips as Jungkook moves behind you.

Jungkook's hands start lifting the skirt of your dress. “Get on your knees,” he orders, and you obey, like a good little soldier. His hands settle on your hips and firmly lift them. 

You try not to think about anything, not even the cock you're now sucking that's thrusting into your mouth. It has a musky, unpleasant taste. The man weaves his fingers through your hair and pulls gently as he moans, ecstatic, and pushes his hips slowly between your lips.

You jump when you feel the tip of Jungkook's cock press against your wet entrance. The head pushes gently against it but then pulls back. You can't see him, but feeling him is even more... exciting? You're not sure that's the right word.

However, Jungkook doesn't penetrate you, not yet. He pushes in halfway and pulls back, then lifts the skirt again, which must have slipped down. For a moment it's as if he's undecided. But then he presses his head insistently against your other opening and you feel like you're going haywire. Will it hurt? That's really the only thing you can ask yourself.

“You're not relaxed at all,” he growls, annoyed, when he tries to push in but your body resists him. You sob and pull away from the man's cock and turn to look at Jungkook. “I'm sorry.”

“What a pathetic escort,” he complains.

“I'm sorry,” you repeat, and your voice is high-pitched as you say the words.

He looks at you, annoyed, for a few seconds, before sighing, giving up. “Jesus Christ. We'll work on it, but not today. I don't feel like dealing with bullshit today,” he says more to himself than to you. Without half a hesitation, he penetrates your vagina with a single thrust that tears a scream from you. 

“Did you stop sucking him off? Do you want to bore him?” Jungkook asks, scolding you. You try to get used to his presence inside you, but the burning sensation fogs your mind. His friend gently grabs you by the hair and then forces himself into your mouth. For a moment, the world just seems absurd. 

Jungkook and his friend are fucking you in unison. You should hate it. You want to hate it. Logic almost demands it. And yet, where Jungkook thrusts violently, beneath all the pain and burning, behind the discomfort and beyond your wounded pride, you feel something. A desire that makes you feel like a slave. More of a slave than you agreed to become when you signed that stupid contract.

Jungkook's friend moans again and this time Jungkook turns to him, annoyed. “Don't come in her mouth,” he orders him.

“But—”

“Do I have to repeat myself?” he says threateningly. He's pissed off now. You can tell by the violence with which he thrusts inside you. Your eyes fill with tears. You must have been crazy to think this could be pleasant... Jungkook's cock is simply too big for your body. You sob again.

The friend pulls back, muttering something. He sits down on the armchair and watches you both. While he watches you, he starts masturbating. You can't look away from the image. It's not him that attracts you, nor the situation—it's just one of those moments when you feel like you're outside your own body. It's impossible that this is your life, that this is happening to you...

Jungkook places a hand against your neck and makes you lift your chest. He holds you almost possessively. You imagine he's looking his friend in the eyes, but you can't know if that's really the case. Yet the idea... The idea stirs that thing inside you again. The nameless thing. The one that feels so tremendously right, and yet so tremendously wrong...

“You are my toy,” Jungkook then murmurs directly into your ear. “I choose who to share you with. I choose the rules of the game.”

You don't know why he's telling you this. You only know that every single word sends a shiver down your spine. You pant and nod just once. The sound of your skin slapping fills the room. Obscene. Simply obscene.

With a low growl, Jungkook comes inside your body. His hot semen fills you.

He kisses and bites your neck as the orgasm consumes him. He holds you tight and keeps thrusting almost as if he wanted to push his semen as deep as possible inside you.

When he pulls out of your body and moves away, you collapse limply onto the bed. Your breath is fast, your heart pounding in your temples. Maybe you're suffering from some kind of adrenaline poisoning. You don't know if that makes sense or if you just made it up.

“You can go,” he says, and for a moment you think he's talking to you, but then you see the friend get up. They shake hands, exchange a few words, then he leaves and you're left alone with Jungkook. It all still feels meaningless. The club, that person, what just happened. Maybe you're too stupid a girl to understand things that are basic for others. What's the point of exposing your ignorance by asking questions?

“Don't fall asleep,” Jungkook tells you, approaching the bed. “The night is still young,” he says, looking vaguely annoyed at you. “Do you know who that was?”

How could you possibly know?

You shake your head no. You feel so tired you could fall asleep any moment. You know it's the suppressants' fault. Jungkook, however, doesn't.

“He's one of the club's selectors. You can't get in here unless you've had sex with one of the selectors. It's the rule.”
He could have just told you that pink elephants will be performing classical ballet and it would have made just as much sense to you.

“Okay,” you murmur. Your eyes close.

“Hey. I told you not to fall asleep.”

You force your eyes open and turn onto your back. “I'm fine,” you murmur.

“I didn't ask if you're fine. I don't care. Just try not to sleep. I paid a lot of money to come here tonight. There's no way I'm going home unsatisfied, understand?”

Ah, Jungkook... All you know about tyrants is that one once lived who set fire to the city of Rome and, watching it burn, started playing the lyre. Who knows why that comes to your mind right now. Yet you can picture it. Jungkook would strike up a song while Rome burns. And you, deep down, what are you to him now, if not his Rome? You don't know what will happen tonight and, for a change, you don't even care. You are willing to turn to ash.