The Tyrant's Secret fetish Chapter 85

Ye Jun

I wanted to argue. I really did. But his hand kept moving and the collar kept rubbing and the drive felt endless and every ti I opened my mouth to call him insane it ca out as a shaky moan instead. "You’re actually proud of that, aren’t you? Learning a whole skill just to mark like property. That’s not hot, that’s terrifying, and my stomach is doing flips."

We went back and forth the whole way, snapping and cursing and threatening to throw myself out the window, him laughing and teasing and keeping right on that knife-edge without ever letting tip over. By the ti he pulled into a small parking lot behind a plain brick building I was panting, collar damp with sweat, hoodie half unzipped because I couldn’t breathe right. "This better not be it," I muttered as he killed the engine. "If this is your murder basent I’m telling the cops everything."

He just grabbed my chin, turned my face to his, and kissed hard, tongue sliding in like he owned that too. "A Private studio. It’s mine... Mine. No one else. Get out." Then he was dragging inside before I could even process the words.

The place was small, clean, just a chair and a table and so machines and ink bottles lined up like he’d been waiting for this exact mont. My stomach dropped. "You own this? You really learned how to tattoo just for my ass? Or hip? Or wherever the hell you’re planning to ruin ?"

"Inner thigh," he said, locking the door behind us and flipping on the lights. "Right up high, where my mouth goes when I suck you off. Close enough that every ti you feel the denim rub you’ll rember my na is there." He turned to , eyes dark and serious for once. "Strip. Now."

"No." I crossed my arms even though my hands were shaking. "Absolutely not. This is forever, Si Woo. Ink doesn’t co off. What if we fight? What if you get bored? What if I wake up tomorrow and realize I let you brand like cattle because I was horny and collared and stupid?"

He stepped closer, hands already tugging my hoodie off, collar now fully visible and I felt naked even with clothes still on. "You’re not stupid. You’re mine. And you said yes. Strip or I do it for you and you’ll be bent over this table the whole ti complaining."

I shoved at his chest but it was useless. "You’re insane. This is insane. I’m not letting you put your na on my thigh like so possessive caveman." But my fingers were already pulling my shirt off because arguing with him while he stared at like that always ended the sa way. Jeans next, then boxers, until I was standing there naked except for the collar, cock still hard and leaking because of course it was.

"On the table," he said, voice softer now but still commanding. He helped lie back, legs spread, and I felt ridiculous and exposed and so turned on I wanted to die. "Breathe. I’m prepping you first."

"Prepping?" My voice cracked. "What does that even... "

He cut off by leaning down and kissing the exact spot on my inner thigh where he planned to put it, slow and wet, tongue dragging over the skin like he was tasting . "Your mouth claid yesterday," he murmured against my skin, lips brushing every word. "Now your skin claims back. Permanently. No more pretending you hate this when we both know you wake up every morning hard for ."

"Stop talking like that," I hissed, but my hips twitched up anyway and a pathetic sound slipped out when he licked a stripe right up the crease of my thigh, close enough to my balls that I saw stars. "You’re making this sound like a wedding vow and it’s a tattoo, you psychopath. I’m panicking here, actually panicking, my heart is racing and I think I might cry and it’s not even funny anymore."

He didn’t stop. Just spread wider with one hand and slid two fingers down to circle my hole, teasing but not pushing in yet. "Cry then. I like it when you cry. Makes you look real. Makes know you feel this too." His other hand wrapped around my cock, stroked once slow and tight, then stopped right when my breath hitched. "No cumming while I’m marking you or I stop halfway. Understand?"

"Fuck you, that’s not fair," I snapped, because the edging was killing and the collar was tight and his mouth was still on my thigh kissing and licking like he had all day. "I’m not agreeing to this. I changed my mind. Take the collar off and drive ho and we can pretend this never happened."

He laughed softly, fingers finally pushing in slow and deep, crooking just right so my back arched off the table. "Too late. You’re dripping down my wrist already. Look at you. Fighting and leaking and still saying yes with your whole body." He added a third finger, stretching open while his mouth moved up to suck on the head of my cock, just once, hot and wet, then pulled off with a pop. "Beg to do it. Say you want my na on you."

I was shaking now, full-body tremors, tears slipping out the corners of my eyes even though I was laughing at how ridiculous this was. "I don’t want it, I hate it, you’re the worst human alive and I’m going to murder you in your sleep but also please don’t stop because if you leave like this I’ll actually die and... " My voice broke completely. "This is forever. You’re really putting your na on forever and what if you stop wanting soday and I’m stuck with it and I’ll have to look at it every day and rember how stupid I was for letting you in."

He went still for a second, fingers deep inside , mouth hovering over my cock. Then he looked up, eyes softer than I’d ever seen them. "I’m not stopping. Ever. You’re it for , Ye Jun. That’s why I learned this shit. That’s why the collar. That’s why everything." His voice dropped. "Say yes. For real this ti. Not dick-drunk. Just you."

I cried harder then, not from the edging but from how heavy it felt, how much I actually wanted it even though it scared the shit out of . "You’re such an asshole," I muttered through the tears, voice all snotty and cracked. "But... yes. Fuck. Do it. Just do it before I change my mind again and run out naked."

He smiled, slow and real, then leaned down and kissed the spot one more ti, tongue dragging lazy circles while his fingers kept working open and his hand stroked my cock again, building right back up to the edge. "Good boy. Stay right there. Don’t cum. I’m getting the machine ready."

I lay there shaking, collar tight, thigh wet from his mouth, tears still drying on my face, cock throbbing in his hand while he reached for the ink and the needle. He turned the machine on and the buzz filled the room and my heart slamd so hard I thought it might crack a rib.

The needle hovered right over the spot, tip almost touching skin, and I was still panting, still begging with my hips, still half laughing through the panic because only Si Woo could make cry and get hard and argue and say yes all in the sa five minutes.

He looked at one last ti. "Ready?"

I didn’t answer. I just closed my eyes, felt the first tiny prick of the needle touch down, and let everything break open at once.

He squeezed my cock hard enough to make gasp, then eased off again. "My na. Simple. In Black. Sowhere only I get to see when I peel your clothes off. And yeah, I learned because the thought of so other guy staring at your ass, touching your skin, breathing on you while he works? Nope. Not happening. This is mine. You’re mine."

I wanted to argue. I really did. But his hand kept moving and the collar kept rubbing and the drive felt endless and every ti I opened my mouth to call him insane it ca out as a shaky moan instead. "You’re actually proud of that, aren’t you? Learning a whole skill just to mark like property. That’s not hot, that’s terrifying, and my stomach is doing flips."

We went back and forth the whole way, snapping and cursing and threatening to throw myself out the window, him laughing and teasing and keeping right on that knife-edge without ever letting tip over. By the ti he pulled into a small parking lot behind a plain brick building I was panting, collar damp with sweat, hoodie half unzipped because I couldn’t breathe right. "This better not be it," I muttered as he killed the engine. "If this is your murder basent I’m telling the cops everything."

He just grabbed my chin, turned my face to his, and kissed hard, tongue sliding in like he owned that too. "A Private studio. It’s mine... Mine. No one else. Get out." Then he was dragging inside before I could even process the words.

The place was small, clean, just a chair and a table and so machines and ink bottles lined up like he’d been waiting for this exact mont. My stomach dropped. "You own this? You really learned how to tattoo just for my ass? Or hip? Or wherever the hell you’re planning to ruin ?"

"Inner thigh," he said, locking the door behind us and flipping on the lights. "Right up high, where my mouth goes when I suck you off. Close enough that every ti you feel the denim rub you’ll rember my na is there." He turned to , eyes dark and serious for once. "Strip. Now."

"No." I crossed my arms even though my hands were shaking. "Absolutely not. This is forever, Si Woo. Ink doesn’t co off. What if we fight? What if you get bored? What if I wake up tomorrow and realize I let you brand like cattle because I was horny and collared and stupid?"

He stepped closer, hands already tugging my hoodie off, collar now fully visible and I felt naked even with clothes still on. "You’re not stupid. You’re mine. And you said yes. Strip or I do it for you and you’ll be bent over this table the whole ti complaining."

I shoved at his chest but it was useless. "You’re insane. This is insane. I’m not letting you put your na on my thigh like so possessive caveman." But my fingers were already pulling my shirt off because arguing with him while he stared at like that always ended the sa way. Jeans next, then boxers, until I was standing there naked except for the collar, cock still hard and leaking because of course it was.

"On the table," he said, voice softer now but still commanding. He helped lie back, legs spread, and I felt ridiculous and exposed and so turned on I wanted to die. "Breathe. I’m prepping you first."

"Prepping?" My voice cracked. "What does that even... "

He cut off by leaning down and kissing the exact spot on my inner thigh where he planned to put it, slow and wet, tongue dragging over the skin like he was tasting . "Your mouth claid yesterday," he murmured against my skin, lips brushing every word. "Now your skin claims back. Permanently. No more pretending you hate this when we both know you wake up every morning hard for ."

"Stop talking like that," I hissed, but my hips twitched up anyway and a pathetic sound slipped out when he licked a stripe right up the crease of my thigh, close enough to my balls that I saw stars. "You’re making this sound like a wedding vow and it’s a tattoo, you psychopath. I’m panicking here, actually panicking, my heart is racing and I think I might cry and it’s not even funny anymore."

He didn’t stop. Just spread wider with one hand and slid two fingers down to circle my hole, teasing but not pushing in yet. "Cry then. I like it when you cry. Makes you look real. Makes know you feel this too." His other hand wrapped around my cock, stroked once slow and tight, then stopped right when my breath hitched. "No cumming while I’m marking you or I stop halfway. Understand?"

"Fuck you, that’s not fair," I snapped, because the edging was killing and the collar was tight and his mouth was still on my thigh kissing and licking like he had all day. "I’m not agreeing to this. I changed my mind. Take the collar off and drive ho and we can pretend this never happened."

He laughed softly, fingers finally pushing in slow and deep, crooking just right so my back arched off the table. "Too late. You’re dripping down my wrist already. Look at you. Fighting and leaking and still saying yes with your whole body." He added a third finger, stretching open while his mouth moved up to suck on the head of my cock, just once, hot and wet, then pulled off with a pop. "Beg to do it. Say you want my na on you."

I was shaking now, full-body tremors, tears slipping out the corners of my eyes even though I was laughing at how ridiculous this was. "I don’t want it, I hate it, you’re the worst human alive and I’m going to murder you in your sleep but also please don’t stop because if you leave like this I’ll actually die and... " My voice broke completely. "This is forever. You’re really putting your na on forever and what if you stop wanting soday and I’m stuck with it and I’ll have to look at it every day and rember how stupid I was for letting you in."

He went still for a second, fingers deep inside , mouth hovering over my cock. Then he looked up, eyes softer than I’d ever seen them. "I’m not stopping. Ever. You’re it for , Ye Jun. That’s why I learned this shit. That’s why the collar. That’s why everything." His voice dropped. "Say yes. For real this ti. Not dick-drunk. Just you."

I cried harder then, not from the edging but from how heavy it felt, how much I actually wanted it even though it scared the shit out of . "You’re such an asshole," I muttered through the tears, voice all snotty and cracked. "But... yes. Fuck. Do it. Just do it before I change my mind again and run out naked."

He smiled, slow and real, then leaned down and kissed the spot one more ti, tongue dragging lazy circles while his fingers kept working open and his hand stroked my cock again, building right back up to the edge. "Good boy. Stay right there. Don’t cum. I’m getting the machine ready."

I lay there shaking, collar tight, thigh wet from his mouth, tears still drying on my face, cock throbbing in his hand while he reached for the ink and the needle. He turned the machine on and the buzz filled the room and my heart slamd so hard I thought it might crack a rib.

The needle hovered right over the spot, tip almost touching skin, and I was still panting, still begging with my hips, still half laughing through the panic because only Si Woo could make cry and get hard and argue and say yes all in the sa five minutes.

He looked at one last ti. "Ready?"

I didn’t answer. I just closed my eyes, felt the first tiny prick of the needle touch down, and let everything break open at once.