The Tyrant's Secret fetish-Chapter 50

Ye Jun

I was lying there face-down on my bed, the sheets all twisted under me, still tasting that last swig of soju at the back of my throat, and yeah, I was feeling pretty fucking smug about the fact that I’d locked the door behind me like it was some kind of victory. Door shut, Si-woo on the other side of it, me finally alone so I could just pass out and pretend none of the last twenty-four hours had happened. Normal life, here I come. No more stepbrother bullshit, no more cuffs, no more of his stupid careful hands pretending to care after he wrecked me. I even laughed a little into the pillow, this weak, drunk snort that made my ribs hurt, because for once I’d done the smart thing. Locked the door. Me winning. End of story.

Then the first cramp hit.

Not some polite little stomach twinge. This was full-body, nuclear, like my guts had decided to tie themselves into a knot and pull until something snapped. "Oh fuck," I gasped, curling tighter, knees jerking up so fast my thighs screamed where the bruises still burned. The greasy pork and the soju and whatever was left of my wrecked hole all decided to throw a party at the exact same second and I swear I felt my stomach flip inside out. I bit the pillow hard enough that I tasted cotton and tried not to make a sound because no way, no fucking way was I letting Si-woo hear me like this after I’d just stomped past him without a word. I’d acted tough. I’d walked away. I wasn’t about to ruin it by whining now.

But the cramp didn’t care what I wanted. It twisted harder and I had to move. I slid off the bed like a dying animal, knees hitting the floor first, then elbows, dragging myself toward the bathroom because if I didn’t make it there in the next ten seconds this was going to get way more disgusting than I could handle. Every inch hurt. My ass felt like it was on fire again, the spanking bruises flaring up every time my thighs rubbed together, and inside god, inside it was raw and throbbing and now cramping too like it was personally offended by the pork. I was whimpering into my own arm, biting down so hard my jaw ached, crawling on all fours like some pathetic kid who’d eaten too much candy. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," I kept muttering under my breath between gasps. "Titi and her fucking pork. I hate everything. Why did I listen to her? Why did I eat like that? Idiot. Total idiot." I just wanted to prove that I was not some weak pouty bottom. Oh my God.

I finally made it to the toilet and collapsed onto it sideways at first because sitting straight hurt too much. The second my ass hit the seat another wave slammed through me and I doubled over, arms wrapped around my stomach, tears pricking my eyes even though I was laughing at how ridiculous this was. Laughing and crying at the same time because here I was, at my big twenty plus years old, stepbrother just finished destroying me last night until I was a sobbing mess, and now I was paying for it with explosive revenge from half a pig and too much soju. Classic me. Always doing the dumbest shit to prove a point. I sat there for what felt like forever, guts emptying in the loudest, most humiliating way possible, toilet sounding like a broken engine, stomach growling and gurgling like it was mad at me personally. And all I could think was how Si-woo had warned me no meat, your ass can’t handle grease right now. He’d said it so casual, like he already knew I’d fuck up. And what did I do? I went straight to Titi’s, ordered pork, ate like a pig myself, drank soju until the room spun, just to show him I didn’t need his rules. Look at me winning now.

I flushed and stayed there a minute, forehead against the cool wall, breathing hard through my mouth because my nose was stuffed from crying. "I’m fine," I told myself out loud, voice all shaky and wrecked. "Totally fine. This is what it normally feels like after some hot sex. No Si-woo required. No bossy asshole telling me what to eat. Freedom." But then the next cramp rolled in and I had to bite my own wrist to keep from moaning loud enough for the whole mansion to hear. Teeth sank in. Skin hurt. Time blurred after that. I don’t know how long I stayed in there twenty minutes, forty, an hour riding wave after wave, cleaning up, wiping, flushing again, crawling back to bed when it eased off, only for it to start again ten minutes later like clockwork. At one point I just gave up and lay flat on the bathroom floor with my cheek on the tile, laughing this ugly, snotty laugh because I kept thinking about Titi poking my ass earlier and grinning like she knew exactly what was coming. "Your hole’s gonna revolt in about twenty minutes." Yeah, Titi. You win. It didn’t revolt. It declared full war. Bombs going off. No survivors.

Somewhere around two in the morning the worst of it finally backed off enough that I could think straight. Not great, but straight. My head was pounding from the soju, this dull hammer behind my eyes that wouldn’t quit. My ass felt like someone had taken a cheese grater to it and then poured salt on top. I was thirsty as hell, tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth, but the one thing that kept nagging at me was my phone. Where the fuck was my phone? I patted the bed around me, sheets, pillow, under the blanket l nothing. Nightstand empty. Floor beside the bed nothing. Then it hit me. I’d dropped it when I limped past Si-woo earlier.