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Gihun's days had become a torturous routine that brought him nothing but misery. He couldn't even remember the last time he had smiled or felt happy. All his good memories were far behind him because this was his new life now, one he had never asked for, and he was at the mercy of Inho, the man who had taken away his freedom and happiness.
At first, Gihun fought with all his strength, trying to escape multiple times to the point that Inho's patience ran out. The man had no choice but to break his ankles. Since then, Gihun has been crawling on the floor and depending on the other man to bathe him, dress him, and do other basic things that anyone else would do but that Gihun could no longer do. His autonomy was being undermined day by day with no possibility of return. He felt totally useless, now crawling on the floor like an insect.
One of the few tasks he does is cooking. Sitting in a swivel chair wearing a red apron, he looked a little worn and aged. It was clear that it had belonged to someone else. When he asked Inho to buy a new one, he refused. Apparently, that apron held important memories for him. On one occasion, he told him about his wife and the days when she used to cook for him. The pieces quickly fell into place in Gihun's mind. Of course, he was nothing more than her replacement.
He hated it, but he hated himself even more. If it hadn't been for his excessive kindness, he wouldn't have fallen into the hands of this degenerate. He decided to ignore the signs, and by the time he realized what was happening, it was too late. Now he was nothing more than Inho's “wife.” The man forced him to wear tight, revealing clothes, which were uncomfortable.
At first, Gihun had refused to eat, but hunger won the battle. The confinement and anxiety he had been exposed to made him take refuge in food, eating more than necessary and gaining a few sizes. It was no surprise that Inho wanted to highlight his curves with tight clothes for his own satisfaction, as there was not a single moment when Gihun did not feel exposed under the intense gaze of the other man, being touched and violated almost every day. He hated being sexualized all the time, seen as a mere object of entertainment for Inho's pleasure.
He wanted to be less attractive to Inho, so he stopped eating. If he was thin and skeletal enough, perhaps Inho would not be sexually interested in him. But hunger always returned, and he would eat large amounts of food. Afterwards, he would feel regretful and angry with himself for ruining the “process” he had already started, so he would go to the bathroom and make himself vomit.
***
It was a rainy afternoon, raindrops falling down the windows. Gihun was cooking. Inho had left a few hours earlier, but soon the sound of the door caught his attention, announcing his arrival. The man closed his umbrella and approached him, carrying a bouquet of roses.
Here, honey, these are for you. He smiled and placed the bouquet in Gihun's lap. The other man gave him a cold look, one he was already used to seeing.
Thanks... I guess... Gihun muttered harshly. Inho kissed him on the head.
It smells really good. What did you cook for me? Inho asked, settling into the dining room chair.
“It's tteokbokki,” Gihun replied without much interest.
The other man frowned, remembering that this was Gihun's least favorite dish, so why would he make it?
“You can serve yourself. I'm not hungry,” Gihun said curtly.
Inho sighed. Some days Gihun was more irritable than usual, and he hated those days. He helped the man out of his chair, and Gihun began to crawl out of the kitchen.
Before leaving, Gihun turned his head and said, “You should buy me a wheelchair. This is tiring.”
Inho shook his head.
Not yet, not until you're a good wife. You never learn, do you? I give you everything, and all I get in return is your bad mood.
Gihun clenched his fists on the floor and left the room. He wanted to be as far away from the man as possible.
Inho got up from his seat and began to follow Gihun.
Where are you going? You know, I brought you a gift, and I think the least I can expect is to be greeted with the same kindness. Do you really think you have the right to be upset?
Gihun laughed bitterly.
Fuck you, he said bluntly.
Inho clenched his jaw and grabbed him by the hair, dragging him across the floor.
What are you doing? Let me go! The other man shouted as he tried to break free.
Inho grabbed one of the pillows, pulled food out of it, and threw it on the floor.
“Do you think I don't know what you're doing? You eat like hell and then you throw up because you're so determined to lose weight?” he raised his voice.
“Look at everything you've been keeping, you should be ashamed of yourself.” He spat.
Gihun clenched his teeth.
“It's none of your fucking business! Let me go, you idiot.”
Inho pulled harder on his hair, eliciting a small cry of pain from the other man.
Good wives don't talk to their husbands like that. You deserve to be punished for that. He said harshly, sending a chill down Gihun's spine.
The man took a syringe out of his pocket and pricked Gihun in the neck. The other man's eyes closed shortly after.
……
He woke up, still feeling a little dazed, and looked around the room, which he unfortunately already knew well. His hands were tied to the headboard, his nose was itchy, there was a long tube inside his nostril, and Inho was sitting in the corner.
“You're awake,” said the man, addressing him.
Immediately, Gihun's expression said, “What did you do to me?”
Inho sat down on the bed.
This will teach you to stop overeating. It's bad for your health. If necessary, you'll stay like this for a long time until you start eating properly again.
Tears began to sting Gihun's eyes, the helplessness burning in his chest. Inho was always controlling him, even his eating.
Gihun began to shake his head.
No, no, no, Inho...
The other man just smiled slightly and stroked a strand of his hair.
You'll be fine. Inho said, kissing him on the forehead, tears began to fall from Gihun's eyes.
...
After days of force-feeding, the tube had been removed, returning him to his no less torturous daily life.
Inho was watching television while drinking black coffee when, in a clumsy move, he spilled the cup on the floor.
Shit... Gihun, clean this up. He called out to the other man who was in the kitchen.
The other man took a rag and began crawling his way to the living room. He was wearing tight shorts and a simple white shirt that was also tight. He began to clean up the spilled liquid, scrubbing the floor hard, his back arched, his curves well defined, his butt plump and soft, his legs defined, mesmerizing Inho with the sight.
Inho got up from the sofa, and Gihun felt a chill run down his spine. He knew that look, one that revealed lust and darkness, one that had stalked him countless times. He knew what came after being looked at like that.
I'm done, I'm leaving. He muttered, trying to crawl his way to the kitchen, but Inho placed his leg in the way, blocking his path.
I don't think this is over yet. Inho muttered, and Gihun swallowed hard, avoiding his gaze.
Look at me, Gihun, look at me when I'm talking to you. He growled.
The man on the floor slowly raised his head and looked at the man standing in front of him. He couldn't help but tremble slightly, Inho's dark, piercing eyes like a predator staring at its prey.
He carried him in his arms bridal style to the bedroom and gently dropped Gihun onto the bed.
Inho watched him with playful eyes, kneeling between his legs.
I've been a good husband, I think I deserve a reward for that, don't you think, dear? A mischievous smile formed on his lips.
Inho... no... Gihun murmured, but he knew it was useless to refuse and try to escape.
The other man moved closer, his warm breath brushing against Gihun's face.
Shh... let me take care of you... he murmured, beginning to kiss his neck softly.
Gihun closed his eyes. He didn't want to think, he didn't want to feel anything. He tried to imagine any place other than this one, sometimes the beach he had gone to as a child, memories of when his eomma covered his back with sunscreen and scolded him for taking it off, when he made sandcastles, when he was happy. He tried to hold on to that, to the little memories that would never come back. A feeling of nostalgia overwhelmed him; he really missed the good times.
Inho began to undress him and kiss every part of his body, which was covered in marks and bruises, as the man tended to be rough during sex.
Open your eyes, honey... he whispered in his ear, biting his earlobe lightly.
Gihun had no choice but to obey him, once again having to face this dark reality.
So good for me... Inho murmured between kisses on his chest.
He began to lick the other man's nipples, biting them lightly, causing Gihun to arch his back.
That's it, darling.. you like that... he continued sucking while caressing the other nipple with his fingers.
Gihun hated it, hated when his body reacted to touch, losing control of himself, being manipulated like a puppet.
Inho began rubbing his semi-hard cock against Gihun's crotch, the friction enveloping him in a scorching, exciting heat.
“Damn... do you see what you're doing to me? You're driving me crazy...” he murmured as he continued rubbing.
Inho picked up the lubricant from the nightstand, pouring it onto two of his fingers, and played with Gihun's edge.
The other man sighed harshly, wanting this to end quickly so that his suffering would not be prolonged any further.
Just get it over with... he muttered, his voice tired and weak.
Inho shook his head.
I want to enjoy every second, Gihun, don't be so impatient. He smiled slightly.
He began to insert one of his fingers gently, but Gihun was tense.
Relax for me, sweetheart... Inho whispered in his ear.
When he had completely inserted his finger into the warm hole, he began to move it in and out, slowly at first, then faster. Gihun couldn't help but moan when he touched her sweet spot.
That's it, so good for me... Inho murmured without stopping his movements, continuing with the next finger.
God, you're so beautiful, Gihun... he moaned as he began to rub himself, precum oozing from the tip. He began to insert the head of his cock, and Gihun gasped at the stretch. From now on, he knew that Inho's slow and gentle rhythm would be gone.
Inho pushed his cock all the way in and began to thrust, one push after another, holding Gihun's hips so tightly that he left marks on his tender skin. His thrusts were precise and hard, and the room was filled with obscene sounds, the clash of skin against skin.
Inho began kissing his jaw, taking small bites as he continued to thrust into him. He gave a brief bite to Gihun's lower lip, a small drop of blood spilled out and he licked it, then began kissing his soft lips. It wasn't tender, it was possessive, he was seeking to claim him.
Mhmgm... shit, Gihun, you're incredible... he moaned in his ear as he quickened his movements.
Inho gave the final thrust, spilling himself inside his lover, semen dripping down the other man's thighs, both exhausted and sweaty, heat filling the room, Gihun's chest rising and falling, shortly after he also came, now bathed in fluids and semen.
Sometimes, as punishment, Inho didn't bother to clean him up. The semen dried and stuck to the other man's skin. Gihun had to crawl to the bathroom for toilet paper, which was very exhausting. Sometimes the paper simply wasn't there. He wondered if this somehow made Inho feel that he had “marked” him. But Gihun felt dirty and disgusting, like a sex object, no longer like a person.
This was his lucky day because Inho decided to clean him and bathe him. Sometimes he could be attentive and tender with him, but other times he was cruel, like the time Gihun yelled at him how much he hated him and hurt his shoulder. It enraged Inho so much that the man punched him in the nose, making it bleed.
He was tired, really tired, he couldn't take it anymore. That's when he made his final decision. He took a razor blade and cut his wrists. Blood spilled out, his vision blurred, and he sat in the bathroom waiting for his release. He could feel it, it was close. That's when the knocking on the door began, waking him up to his cruel reality.
Gihun, open the door, open it now! Inho shouted, forcing the handle. He kicked the door open and found Gihun lying on the floor, his face pale. He had lost a lot of blood, and the floor was stained red. Concern was visible on Inho's face.
Shit...
......
Gihun began to open his eyes and looked around. It was the same damn room. To his right, Inho was sitting half asleep. He almost laughed as if the man were playing the role of the “good husband.”
His wrist was bandaged, and he was lying on the bed.
Damn... I failed... he thought to himself.
Inho began to yawn, waking up from his sleep.
Gihun... honey... you're awake... he placed his palm on the man's hand.
Why don't you just kill me? asked the man in bed, his voice tired.
You know I wouldn't, never, Gihun.
Gihun laughed bitterly.
I hate you. The words were as cold as winter.
And I love you, Gihun, I could never let you go. Inho kissed his hand.
Tears stung his eyes and began to roll down his cheeks, all the pain he had been going through, as he was still in the same room.
……