#14 Myungjong

Sweat glistened on Sungjong's neck as he struggled to move. His hands were bound by a rope suspended from the ceiling and his feet were tied to two different poles some distance aprt from each other. He was stark and his body was cold all over. The recording of his playing Yiruma's River Flows In You played softly in the background. Yes, Sungjong was a slave. A  slave and his master was none other than Kim Myungsoo, the son of one of the biggest tycoons in Korea. He remembered the day he had been bought at the slave market. Mr Kim had shown up all smiley and happy while his teenage son sulked behind. Sungjong was chosen and he gladly accepted. Only if he had known he was going to become some sort of rag doll for the teenage boy.

The door unclicked and Sungjong's master entered. Sungjong looked up and his wrists moved slightly. A sharp pain twinged its way through from his wrists, to his arms, to his torso and to his legs. That was how tightly Myungsoo had bound Sungjong's wrists. Even his hands had fallen asleep due to the low blood circulation. Myungsoo stepped forward towards Sungjong with a box of Pepero in his hand. It was the flavor and he pushed one end of the stick into Sungjong's mouth. Sungjong bit and ate it messily, the warm brown liquid from the biscuit flowing from his mouth like a tiny stream. [If you ate Pepero before, this wouldn't sound so disgusting lol! And you would know what I'm talking about.] Myungsoo his lips at the sight. He right below Sungjong's mouth where the chocolate was and then engaged Sungjong's lips in a hot headed, close mouthed kiss, letting the slave taste a bit of the chocolate. They shared a few breaths at short intervals and kissed hotly.

"How are you feeling, Jongie?" Myungsoo asked, calling Sungjong by the pet name he'd given, a smirk woven neatly onto his face.

"It... I.. feel... good," Sungjong lied breathlessly. He was so tired and he felt as if he'd been suspended like this from the ceiling for days.

But Myungsoo seemed to see past Sungjong's tired aura. He tipped Sungjong's chin up with his finger and forced him to look into his eyes.

"No, you're not," Myungsoo said, as he began to the slave, with his clothes still on.

Sungjong hugged himself to sleep on the hard, cold floor of Myungsoo's bedroom. His bed was made out of newspapers lying carelessly on the floor and his pillow was one of Myungsoo's old toys. He watched his master sleep peacefully like a baby, tucked under the warm duvet while he was out in the cold. At l