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Seungmin was a little strange. Hyunjin hadn’t known what to think of her when they first met, and she still doesn’t, really. In Hyunjin’s odd and mercurial job, she’d met many peculiar and discomfiting people; Seungmin, however, with her bland smile and sensible pantsuits, seemed to top that unsettling list.
Their first meeting was at a chaebol’s birthday or anniversary or some milestone of some company that made Korea enough money to justify having several high ranking ministers and other elected officials attend. Hyunjin hadn’t paid attention beyond the brief she’d been given for the night. Her client Son Myungjae was a C-suite executive at Song Steel Company, which, unsurprisingly, made steel parts. Myungjae was forty-two, unmarried and had a string of children scattered around major port cities in Northern Asia. He was 182 cm. Likes: Pain, degradation, blowjobs. Dislikes: Dyed hair and apparently remaining faithful. A pig through and through but he was willing to pay Hyunjin’s exorbitant rate, and one of Hyunjin’s closest coworkers had vouched for him.
“He’s a piece of trash and he can’t fuck, but he’ll tip you well if you make him cry,” she’d said in an undertone at the tail end of a laboriously long Chuseok party. Hyunjin hummed and nodded as she swanned past, leaving a cloud of Chanel No. 9 in her wake, taking the referral when it had come through on her email.
Myungjae clasped Hyunjin tightly around the waist, drawing her attention. “We need to go say hello to our hosts.” His teeth were very white and his grip was bruising, but at least his breath smelled nice. She smiled winningly at him, tilting her head back so she could meet his oil-black eyes. He was tall enough that she could wear her nice heels and not be in danger of hurting his ego.
“Of course.”
Myungjae was an odd combination of conservative, yet desperate enough to impress his social superiors that he clearly did not seem to mind parading Hyunjin around. She played her role, smiled politely and laughed (but not too loudly) when Myungjae cracked his rehearsed jokes. All in all, it wasn’t a terrible night—rather standard for Hyunjin’s job. Only at the end did it take a turn towards odd.
“Hyunjin.”
Hyunjin turned. A tall woman stood before her; Hyunjin vaguely recognised her face from one of the gaggles she’d been standing around but she couldn’t place her. Slightly older, impeccably dressed, a silver ring on her left hand the only jewelry that adorned her.
“My name is Seo Seungmin.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Hyunjin said even as her mind spun to remember the list of names she’d been given to memorise earlier in the week. As if she could sense Hyunjin’s panic, Seungmin smiled slightly. She inclined her head towards a man sitting at a table, speaking rapidly with another woman.
“My husband is Seo Changbin.”
Ah. The list clattered to an abrupt stop, but Hyunjin didn’t need Myungjae’s bare facts for this one. Eye-wateringly rich, a chaebol in his own right, owner of a food conglomerate and son to a famous news anchor; the facts jumped to her brain without effort and Hyunjin barely kept up with news other than to glance at the weather report before she left her house for the day.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Seungmin gave her that flat, slight smile again and angled a hand out to the balcony. “May we speak in private? I have a proposition for you.”
Hyunjin swallowed, smoothed her palms down her dress and followed Seungmin outside. The balcony was wrapped in bushes of white roses, the scent hanging heavy in the air; the weather was balmy and damp and Hyunjin could feel herself beginning to sweat almost immediately. She swept her hair off onto one shoulder and hoped it wouldn’t be too noticeable. Myungjae did not seem like the type to enjoy signs of humanity in his dates.
Seungmin waited for the doors to shut behind them before speaking. “I’ve been noticing you all evening. Myungjae did a good job choosing you for tonight.”
“Was it that obvious?” Hyunjin thought she’d done a good job of fitting in. No one had looked sideways at her all night and Myungjae hadn’t been dumb enough to ask her to dress provocatively. Certainly no one was stupid enough to believe she was his wife, but Hyunjin hadn’t expected their first guess to be escort.
“Not at all. You did perfectly well.” It was bare praise but something about Seungmin’s flat tone told Hyunjin that she was not a woman in the habit of doling out unnecessary compliments. “I had my assistant look you up after we met and it only took him five minutes to find your profile.”
Hyunjin nodded. “What can I do for you?”
Seungmin looked her up and down. “I believe I can trust your discretion.”
Hyunjin nodded again. She had not made a living for herself in these circles without knowing when to keep her mouth shut. Very little surprised her anymore. If Seungmin was approaching her for a secret tryst, well—that was just another Tuesday night for Hyunjin.
“My husband has a certain… desire. One which I have no inclination of meeting. I would like to employ you for such a task.”
“Sure,” Hyunjin said, regaining her ease. Clients, she knew how to deal with. Even terrifyingly rich clients who probably contributed to a good chunk of the country’s GDP. “I can send over my—”
“It’s a rather unique ask,” Seungmin started and then seemed to hesitate for the first time, some of her surety faltering. She looked over Hyunjin’s shoulder to ensure that they were alone before meeting Hyunjin’s eyes again. She was very pretty in an understated manner, which Hyunjin found slightly vexing. To have so much money and natural beauty seemed a touch unfair.
“If it isn’t within my accepted parameters, I would be happy to refer you to a trusted colleague,” Hyunjin said smoothly when Seungmin’s hesitation extended a beat too long. Myungjae would be looking for her, surely, and she could not linger out here for long. “I can assure you—I have been asked for quite a lot in this job. Very little would surprise me.”
Seungmin smiled then, a small wry thing that lifted the corner of her mouth as she looked Hyunjin up and down once more. Then she tilted her head and said simply, “I’d like you to breastfeed my husband.”
Hyunjin paused. Well. There was that surprise.
The contract was rather simple when Seungmin laid it out in front of her two weeks later. She would be paid for the months of induction, expected to manage the upkeep on her own and inform them when let downs began; following the success of the treatment, she would be at their beck and call whenever the need arose.
“Feel free to have your lawyer look it over,” Seungmin said when Hyunjin finished glancing over the top page.
Hyunjin smiled slightly. “Seungmin-nim, I’m a high-end escort. I make money, but not that much money.”
Seungmin laughed—the first real sound she’d let slip all afternoon. She was more relaxed today, though they’d met in her office—at very nearly the top of a thirty floor building in Seocho-dong. Her office was all dark wood paneling and burgundy carpeting, exactly what Hyunjin would imagine for a lawyer, but the windows were mostly shaded by heavy blackout blinds and the seating—rather than the expected leather—were made of soft suede that slid against Hyunjin’s palms.
Hyunjin still thought she was odd. Every inch of her was perfectly still and her eyes were dark and flat, like a shark’s gaze. She was beautiful—that was in no doubt—and meticulously put together but still… Strange. Something about her made Hyunjin’s skin twitch.
“Hire a lawyer for this regardless. It’s good practice in your field.” Seungmin paused, then added, wry, “And you’ll make plenty of money from this venture that you can afford it.”
Hyunjin nodded, having the strangest urge to thank Seungmin for the advice—as if it hadn’t been the bare minimum. She flipped through the pages yet again, reading the terms, the exacting clauses, the dizzying numbers that followed. The timeline was set for six months, after which there would be a chance for renewal and renegotiation if both parties so wanted. Seungmin and Changbin’s name had appeared as one party but Hyunjin had yet to even meet Seungmin’s husband, aside from the passing glance she’d gotten of him at the event.
“Can I ask you a question?” Hyunjin looked up at Seungmin when she’d finished scanning the document. “If it’s not too invasive.”
Seungmin’s lips pressed together in amusement. A Newton’s Cradle sat on the corner of her desk, glinting at Hyunjin. “Why am I not the one doing this?”
Hyunjin shrugged. “It makes sense, obviously.” Seungmin was far too busy, was in the public eye constantly; someone somewhere would notice or let it slip that she had to pause in between meetings to pump or that her chest had grown noticeably larger without accompanying weight gain or a baby to explain it away. She wasn’t famous, but in certain circles, she was known. She was on the news often. She was married to the twenty-sixth richest man in the country. It would be close to career suicide if any of her bedroom activities were to slip to the press. “But I’m curious if there’s another reason.”
“It wouldn’t be very smart of me to tell you our secrets before you’ve signed the papers.”
Hyunjin held her eye. “I’ll sign it.” She’d decided long before she’d walked in here that she would—it would be fun, a spot of excitement, a novelty to this job that had grown predictable and simple to her now. This was a new challenge, not just a decrepit, divorced bitter man in need of a young pretty thing on his arm but a couple. A very rich, very famous couple inviting her into their bedroom. She would not be dealing with Seungmin in any sexual sense but Seungmin would be in the room—that had been abundantly clear. Another peculiarity Hyunjin was slightly amused by. She’d never known a wife to want to linger while her husband fucked another woman.
But it was the total on the last page for her six months of work that had cinched the decision for her. Hyunjin liked a lot of things in life but only a few she craved—the rush of adrenaline was one, money was the other. And money, funnily enough, provided the rest of her vices with ease.
Seungmin smiled faintly. She sat back in her chair and surveyed Hyunjin for a moment. “My husband and I are pretty well matched on most of our proclivities. I hadn’t expected there to be such a degree of monogamy in our marriage—hardly any at our level are—but it was a pleasant surprise. However, this is the one thing he craves that I will never meet. I have no interest in altering my body so you were the compromise. And I’ve found I’m more willing to give up the monogamy than the control I have over my body.”
Hyunjin nodded. It was a surprising degree of truth she hadn’t expected to receive. “Well, thank you.” She leaned down to pick up her bag and gathered the folder from the desk. “I’ll get this back to you within the week.”
“Take your time,” Seungmin said. She watched Hyunjin rise and Hyunjin got the distinct impression that she was standing on the other side of a fish tank, watching the shark circle the thick glass, its eye never leaving her. Like she was prey. In the elevator, when Hyunjin slid her bag onto her shoulder, she noticed the goosebumps dotting her skin.
“God that’s like the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard,” Felix said.
Hyunjin spared her an amused look over the top of her head. The ventilator fan was running on high but the bleach fumes still tickled in the inside of her nose. Felix did most of her upkeep at her favourite salons—often booking times with Hyunjin as it was the only day they ever got to gossip without interruption. But one disastrous incident at an unvetted salon had reverted her to taking care of it on her own. And given that Hyunjin was her closest friend, she was often the one doing the bleaching as Felix couldn’t see the back of her own head.
“You once had a guy ask to suck your toes,” Hyunjin replied, parting Felix’s hair into sections so she could get at the roots.
“Hey, he was a gentleman and good in bed.” Felix tapped a nail board against her hand for a moment, possibly daydreaming about said foot-freak before snapping back to herself and making a face at Hyunjin in the mirror. “That’s so not as weird as asking you to induce milk.”
Hyunjin snorted. “Oh, you should see how much they’re paying me.” When Felix widened her eyes, Hyunjin smiled conspiratorially at her. “Many Paris trips in the future,” she said sagely and Felix laughed. Hyunjin continued to swipe the brush over her hair, the gloves crinkling under the exhaust fan humming noisily.
“I’d still think it’s a little weird. Maybe a lot weird,” Felix said thoughtfully after a long moment, nose wrinkled as she considered it. “But a lot about your job freaks me out.”
That was fair. Not everyone could compartmentalize their lives so easily. Hyunjin liked her job, though. She liked being complimented and dressed up and held like she was a trophy to be won; more importantly, she liked her large apartment, her comfortable savings, her impulsive holidays when the mood struck her.
Seungmin had said she’d never give up the control over her body which had interested Hyunjin. Her body was such an unimportant part of her, just another tool in her arsenal that she used to navigate life. But Hyunjin felt she was perhaps unique in that sense.
“Would you be able to do my job?” she asked curiously, tilting Felix’s head around so she could get at the front of her head. “If you wanted to, I mean?”
Felix braced her hands on Hyunjin’s hips, squeezing habitually as she considered the question. “No,” she said finally. “I don’t want a man to want me only for my body.”
“It’s just a body,” Hyunjin replied mildly. “I’m not even sure what about it turns them on sometimes.”
Felix frowned up at her. “You’re hot. You know you’re hot.”
Hyunjin nodded, but she couldn’t quite explain it. It felt singularly unimportant to her that men (and women, sometimes) wanted to pay her for the pleasure of carting her around, fucking her, using her to sate their own pleasures. This wasn’t to say Hyunjin didn't enjoy fucking—but it never inspired the same fever in her that she always saw in the eyes staring back at her.
“I guess I’m just not as bothered about what someone wants to do with me,” she said after a long pause. She couldn’t quite put her disinterest into words, and was equally unsure of its provenance. She only knew that it was there. At her words, Felix looked briefly disconcerted before she changed the subject and Hyunjin let her do so.
“Can I guess who it is?” Felix asked later, when Hyunjin had her hair all wrapped up and they were sitting in her living room waiting for dinner to be delivered. “Is it an actor?” Her eyes widened. “An actress?”
“You know I can’t say,” Hyunjin laughed.
“I know, I know. Still… Six months is a long time.” Felix looked at her with concern. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? Like with your body and everything? You’ve checked out the side effects?”
Hyunjin nodded. She’d already started the medicine and had emailed Seungmin a perfunctory line about her starting date; in exactly six months she’d stop taking the medicine and revert back to her old self. If the contract ended there. Something told her though, that she would unfortunately enjoy the experience more than she had expected to.
“It’s all covered in the contract. I got a lawyer to look it over.” She’d had to shell out to a good, discreet lawyer who wouldn’t find it all too shocking or unnerving and luckily one of her work friends had a contact. “I’m perfectly safe.”
“Hmm. Well, I hope it’s fun for you,” Felix said. “You should get a little something out of it too.”
“Don’t worry about me.” Hyunjin smiled and poked at the plastic bag covering Felix’s hair. It made a squishy wrinkling noise under her palm. “Go wash this before you burn your hair off.”
Felix slid off the couch and disappeared into the bathroom. Hyunjin heard the shower start up and then glanced down at her chest. She was larger than average already and all the forums she’d read had told her to expect even more growth. Discomfort. Swelling. Desire. Hyunjin hummed, shifting so her thighs pressed tightly together. It was sure to be an interesting six months.
It took two months for the first drops to appear. Hyunjin had started to slightly panic by then—even though there wouldn’t be any repercussions if she couldn’t induce within the time frame. It had been beyond strange at first, to sit in her bedroom and pump daily without anything coming out. On top of that, she had to take vitamins, massage her chest and track her cycle, quit alcohol—a whole host of things that seemed like such a hassle to only produce a meager amount.
Even as she adjusted to the routine, it continued to be odd, even dysphoric sometimes. Despite Hyunjin’s detachment to her body, it felt singularly strange to look down at her chest and watch it mutate into a form that was meant to fulfill someone else’s desires. She always pushed through it—forced herself out of her house and dove further into her hobbies to counteract the discomfort, but the unease remained.
She even got wet sometimes, and that was an even stranger mindfuck—to be so discomfited and embarrassed in her own body while also getting turned on just through the simple, strange sensation of a pump at her chest, to watch herself in the mirror in her bedroom and spread her legs and touch herself while her nipples were tugged at by a noisy machine. The forums said this was all normal, that it was expected, even; Hyunjin had begun to spend an awful amount of time on them for advice and encouragement. It was nice to know she wasn’t alone in this bizarre adventure.
But when the milk finally started producing, she was relieved. Oddly so. Everything about this whole situation was weird but she hadn’t wanted to fail. She’d never reach the end of the road then, never get to see how this peculiar couple fit against each other, how they compromised, why they were willing to do so much just to fulfill a fetish.
She sent Seungmin an email after a week of production with a table included for her measurements because Hyunjin was nothing if not thorough and professional. Seungmin responded the next morning at 4:57 AM with acknowledgement and a request to keep the updates coming, so Hyunjin did. This went on for another month until Hyunjin received a call late at night when she was in the middle of washing her dishes. She slid a glove off and fumbled for her phone, dropping the sponge in water as she answered.
“Hello?”
“Hyunjin.”
Hyunjin exhaled in surprise. She leaned back against her counter, bracing herself with a damp hand against hard edge. “How did you get my number?”
Seungmin sounded amused. “Do you really want the answer to that?”
“Kind of.” Hyunjin had visions of Seungmin using any number of shady black market resources to pluck Hyunjin’s phone number out of the ether. And if she had access to that then it was only a hop and a skip away to her having Hyunjin’s address and what would Hyunjin do then? She didn’t want to move. She liked the sunsets in these apartments, the way the golden-pink light spilled across her floor and creeped up the cabinets until it was cut off by the top of her windows.
“Your contact information is on the contract, Hyunjin,” Seungmin said with a short laugh.
Her heart rate decreased rapidly. “Oh. I forgot about that.”
“Clearly,” Seungmin replied. “Congratulations on your progress. I’m calling to ask when you’ll be available for dinner.”
“With you?”
“Me and Changbin. He’s interested to meet you given the encouraging progress.”
“He didn’t want to meet me before this?” Hyunjin asked wryly.
Seungmin ignored her quip. “Does this Friday work? Seven PM?”
It was kind of Seungmin to ask as if Hyunjin had any other other clients over the last two months. Another stipulation of the contract but one Hyunjin hadn’t minded much. The free time had been startlingly nice; she’d been able to pick up old passions, she spent a lot more time walking around the Han to sketch the birds. It was only just starting to get boring but that had been diverted as well. A new distraction had entered the field; the last third of this interesting little triangle, the catalyst for it all.
“Sure,” Hyunjin said, sliding back into her role, professional tone and all. “Anything in particular you’d like me to wear?”
A contemplative silence hummed on the other end. “Something that clings,” Seungmin decided finally. “Show some cleavage but not enough to be indecent. And he likes heels.”
Like every man ever, Hyunjin thought in amusement.
“I’ll send you the details,” Seungmin said and hung up. Hyunjin listened to the beeping for a second before she set her phone aside and went back to her dishes.
At six-fifty on Friday evening, Hyunjin exited the taxi and looked at the restaurant before her in awe. It operated out of a hanok complex which was arranged in a large square with the rooms all connected to each other and upgraded to fit modern sensibilities. The center yard had been transformed into a koi pond flush with small bridges and pathways that wound around the thick, fluffy grass and was covered with a large glassy ceiling to shelter from the elements. Private rooms sat along the perimeter of the yard, decorated bamboo doors that soundlessly peeled open as waitresses and waiters dressed sleek, modern hanboks entered and exited, carrying trays laden with food.
Hyunjin had to forcibly close her mouth as she was led around the yard by the hostess, her heels clicking on the slate stone. A small fountain burbled as she passed, flashes of silvery orange scales winking up at her.
“Your room,” the hostess with a smooth bow, gesturing with both hands for Hyunjin to enter. Hyunjin stepped inside to find Seungmin and her husband waiting for her. They had been speaking but fell silent when she entered; Hyunjin looked over her shoulder to see the door sliding shut behind her.
“You don’t have to look so frightened,” Seungmin said in greeting. She didn’t rise from her seat but her husband did, winding behind her chair to stand before Hyunjin.
“I’m Seo Changbin,” he said and Hyunjin tipped her head in a short bow, introducing herself. She’d chosen her favourite heels tonight, red bottoms, eye-wateringly thin heels, a lift that made her tower over him. Changbin didn’t seem annoyed by the sharp difference, only looked at her, assessing, a small quirk to his mouth and Hyunjin stood there, her spine a steel rod so she would not twitch under his slow, crawling gaze. “Wow,” Changbin said after a long moment. “You’re much prettier than I expected.”
Hyunjin blinked, unsure of how to reply but Seungmin broke in, even and measured.
“I know what you like. Do sit down, Changbin—we can’t scare her away already.”
Changbin looked at Hyunjin once more, eyes travelling up her body slowly, as if he were assessing a show horse, arresting at her chest and her mouth before he met her eyes. He smiled, then, and Hyunjin felt a momentary throb of fear, not dissimilar to the sensation she’d felt in Seungmin’s office. Her cunt began to throb unexpectedly and she couldn’t help the sharp exhale that slid out of her.
“Hyunjin,” Seungmin said. Her chin jerked to the opposing chair. “Sit.”
Changbin had already begun moving back to his seat and Hyunjin took one step, felt her balance wobble, before she steeled herself and made her way to the chair smoothly, tossing her hair back as she sank down. They were clients like any other she’d had in the past. She’d been at dinners with awful, annoying, ingratiating men, more than she could possibly remember; she would not let them shake her.
“This is a beautiful place,” she said, setting her bag on the free seat beside her. “We were driving for so long, I thought the taxi was taking me on the wrong route.”
Changbin smiled. Perhaps it was meant to be pacifying but his eyes were too intent on her. “Seungmin likes traditional food. She chose the place.”
Hyunjin nodded. “I was surprised when she reached out to me.” The implied and you didn’t was left unsaid.
Changbin laughed then, and it was a short sound. He glanced at Seungmin who looked as placid as she ever did. “I always say she has all the brains between the two of us.”
“And what do you have?”
Changbin turned his eyes back to her, smooth and alight with interest at her audacity perhaps. “What do you think?”
Any number of answers rose to Hyunjin’s tongue; power, money, connections—but none of them felt like the right choice.
A knock came at the door before a waiter entered, saving her from having to speak, and the tension in her body loosened minutely at the presence of another harmless individual. Changbin began ordering and Hyunjin took the opportunity to take a steadying breath, pressing her fingertips against each other tightly until she felt the blood pulse under her skin. She had been so sure of herself, of what she’d agreed to, until this moment. Sitting between them, she felt somewhat like an animal up for auction—a cow, she mused darkly, glancing down at her dress.
It was a simple, thin-strapped dress that fell to her calves; baring her décolletage but remaining classy to fit whatever venue Seungmin would have chosen. Her skin looked abnormally pale against the black fabric and Hyunjin took another breath, seeing her chest stutter with the movement. When she forced herself to look back up at her clients, she found Seungmin watching her, an amused slant to her mouth.
The waiter departed with a bow and both of them looked at her. All at once, her mind went blank. She’d never been at a loss for words with a client before, regardless of however she’d felt about them. She opened her mouth uselessly and cast about for a topic, but thankfully was saved once more with the waiter returning with the wine.
“Oh, no thank you,” Hyunjin said when he turned to her glass. “I’m—” she cut herself off with a small smile. “Not drinking tonight.”
The waiter glanced between her and the other side of the table, clearly unsure of how to proceed. Hyunjin supposed not many people at these restaurants declined a drink—especially with the caliber of the clientele they seemed to attract.
Seungmin broke the silence. “Thank you,” she said, nodding at the table and the waiter bowed, setting the wine down and making himself scarce immediately.
“Does it really get into the milk?” Changbin asked when they were alone again. Hyunjin nodded and Changbin smirked at her. “You can speak, you know.”
At that Hyunjin felt a slight spark of irritation. She straightened in her seat and met Changbin’s eyes. “What would you like me to say?” Her words were perfectly polite and formal but Changbin barked a laugh.
“Feisty too,” he said, eyeing her with a smile playing about his lips.
Seungmin sighed and Changbin glanced sideways at her. “Am I not allowed to flirt with her?”
Seungmin looked drolly at him. “You can do whatever you’d like,” she said, with a sip of wine. “But don’t be boring about it.”
Despite herself, Hyunjin’s mouth twitched and Changbin caught it.
“Am I boring you?” he asked, turning his full attention back to her. His tone was light but that look in his eyes returned once more, pinning her to where she sat. Hyunjin stilled, wiping the smile off her face. This was no ordinary client—she should remember that.
“Not at all,” she said. “This whole situation has been very… unique.” Despite her efforts to claw back to normalcy, it felt like she was speaking through honey. Her limbs felt heavy, her words soft and slow, like she’d been drugged except she hadn’t touched a single thing on the table. It was simply the effect of being caught between two predators, both who were tracking her every move with glinting eyes.
The waitstaff returned with their food and their attention shifted from her. Dinner slid by without Hyunjin noticing. Later she would be disappointed that she could not remember the taste of any of the food that passed her tongue; she ate sparingly and mechanically, keeping her attention on her clients instead, on the way they moved around each other, on the way they watched her.
“How do you like the food?” Changbin asked, watching Hyunjin eat. He ate without restrain, refilling Seungmin’s glass when it emptied and taking the last pieces off the shared plates without looking about.
“It’s delicious,” Hyunjin said simply, though she could not recall what her latest bite had been.
When the last plates were cleared from the table and the waiter passed over a dessert menu, Seungmin cleared her throat. “Leave us for a while to discuss.” The waiter bowed and immediately departed, closing the door with a soft snick.
As soon as he was gone, Changbin rose from his seat and came around the table to stand over her. “Move your hair back.” It was soft but it wasn’t phrased like a request and Hyunjin had the oddest sensation of sitting before a well-fed lion, lazily batting about a mouse between its giant paws for the amusement. Obediently, she pushed her hair behind her shoulders so he could get a good look at her chest.
“She sent measurements daily,” Seungmin said and Hyunjin couldn’t help but flinch at the bolt of heat that hit her at the casual words. Changbin hummed. He glanced at her askance as his hand hovered over her shoulder. Hyunjin nodded and forced herself to still when Changbin slid the strap of her dress down. His fingers were cold against her skin and goosebumps flickered up her arms.
“How long did it take?”
“About three months,” Seungmin answered before Hyunjin could open her mouth. She flushed, belly flopping when Changbin’s fingers trailed over the swell over her chest before dipping below the fabric of her dress, tracing over her skin. She would have never let another client touch her like this but it felt—humiliating. It felt good. She was starting to get wet again. Red flushed down her skin, obvious and stark and pink swept over her collarbones and down her chest. Seungmin’s lips tilted up into a smile as she watched them.
“Her size increased too,” she added casually and Hyunjin pressed her lips tightly together when Changbin’s hand slid up back over her dress and then down over her breast to grope at her, his hand heavy as he squeezed.
“Really? How much?”
Hyunjin didn’t realise the question was directed at her until Seungmin looked at her with an eyebrow cocked. Hyunjin cleared her throat, her hands digging into each other.
“I think two cup sizes. I took measurements before and after. Your um—it was part of the contract.”
She could feel his eyes on her but she kept looking at the table, the safest spot, tracing over the wood grain. It was difficult to meet his gaze when he was staring so hard at her, when his hand was squeezing and pinching and releasing over her chest, like she was some prize, like she was up for sale. Her cunt was throbbing. Hyunjin squeezed her thighs together—she got so wet so easily, she hoped it wouldn’t be visible when she rose from her seat.
“Lovely,” Changbin said and pinched her nipple over her dress. Hyunjin gasped before she could stop herself and Changbin laughed before reaching over to pinch the other one. “Do you like that?”
She couldn’t speak. Her voice was trapped under a groan that Hyunjin would not release. She was not here to express pleasure; she was here to sit, to be observed, to be touched.
“He asked you a question,” Seungmin said when the silence continued.
Hyunjin swallowed thickly and then lifted her eyes up to Changbin. “If you want me to like it, I will,” she said. “If you don’t, I won’t.”
Changbin stared at her with a curious expression, lips lifted slightly. “If I want you to like it,” he repeated. He squeezed her chest again. “If I want you to cry? Scream?”
“I can,” Hyunjin said. Tears were not especially difficult for her to summon—they were just another biochemical response and Hyunjin had always maintained extraordinary control over her body. If only she could stop getting so wet. Her nipples were tight under Changbin’s curious fingers.
Changbin hummed, pinched once more and pulled his hand away. “You’re good at your job,” he said and then walked back to his seat as if nothing had happened. “I see why Seungmin chose you.”
“I’m nothing if not thorough,” Seungmin said dryly and Hyunjin took their momentary distraction with each other to breathe deeply and get herself back under control. Her skin was crawling from the touch—the sudden lack of it.
“Have I been satisfactory?” she asked when she was certain her voice would be steady. “Or does our contract end here?”
Changbin laughed and Seungmin smiled.
“No,” she said. “Changbin likes you. We’ll take the next steps.”
Hyunjin nodded. Next steps. It was such a clinical way of discussing their next meeting and it amused Hyunjin, but only just. Even as she took her leave, walked back through the magnificent space with her underwear sticky and tacky between her legs, her breasts aching from Changbin’s touch, she wondered what she had gotten herself into.
Later that evening, she set the mirror up before her bed, put the pump machine on over her sore breasts, slid her hand into her underwear and got off while watching herself, her breath coming in sharp breaths, unable to look away from her reflection until she came.
Two weeks later, she found herself stepping out of a taxi in front of a large house on the outskirts of Seoul. She did not even have to knock before the door opened and Seungmin stood before her, impeccably dressed, expression flat as ever.
“Hyunjin. Come in.”
Hyunjin blinked once before stepping in through the foyer and looking around at the high ceilings. “I assumed you’d have help for these sort of things.” She wondered if she should toe her shoes off and then looked at Seungmin’s eye-wateringly thin heels, clacking along the marble flooring as she walked away without looking back, and hurried to catch up to her.
“I gave the staff the afternoon off,” Seungmin replied. “How are you feeling?”
The question threw Hyunjin once more. “Fine?”
Seungmin glanced over her shoulder. “You seemed unsettled at dinner.” It was said with faint amusement as if Hyunjin’s obvious discomfort with the two of them was entertaining for her.
Hyunjin set her shoulders back, barely cataloguing the hall as they passed by several rooms. “Nothing like that will occur today,” she said smoothly and hoped her modulation wasn’t too apparent.
Seungmin came to a stop before a pair of doors and turned to look at her. “Good.” She pushed open the door. “Impress me.”
The room was large and well-furnished, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lining the far wall, and similarly sized windows that filled the space with warm light, but Hyunjin could only focus on the figure sitting on the couch awaiting their arrival. She took her coat off and set that and her bag to the side before making her way over. Changbin watched her approach, his eyes narrowing with interest when she began to unbutton her shirt without prompting.
They had already agreed upon what today’s services would entail—her and Seungmin—though Hyunjin assumed Changbin had been involved in the discussion before it had even reached Hyunjin’s inbox. It was a simple bill: no penetration would occur, hands were restricted to above the waist, Seungmin would remain in the room to watch. Changbin could go until he was satisfied or until Hyunjin was empty. Generously, Seungmin had added that Hyunjin would be allowed to tap out when she needed, given that this was her first time with a human.
Hyunjin looked at Seungmin. “Where would you like me?” Seungmin gestured to the long side of the couch where the cushions extended so Hyunjin could stretch her legs out and lean comfortably against the back rest.
“How long has it been since you pumped?” Changbin asked following her to the couch. He didn’t lean over her immediately, only sat at her side, reaching a hand out to trail over the strap of her bra.
“A day and a half,” Hyunjin said and then, because she was sure Changbin would enjoy it, “I’ve been uncomfortable since I woke up.”
True to form, Changbin's lips parted. His breath came heavier, fixating on her chest.
“Does it hurt?” Seungmin asked and her voice was like a cool wash of air in the midst of a sticky, humid summer day. She was seated on a nearby armchair, watching with collected curiosity as her husband sat down beside Hyunjin.
“It feels like pins and needles when the milk comes in.” Hyunjin leaned against the overstuffed couch cushions. Changbin followed, hand stroking over her chest now, curious but not callous—not in the way he’d touched her in the restaurant. “Pumping feels… strange.”
“Strange,” Seungmin echoed, eyebrow quirked. When Changbin turned to look at her, she tilted her head, voice warming slightly. “Are you excited?”
“Yes,” Changbin said, licking his lips. “Thank you for getting her for me, jagiya.”
The pet name surprised Hyunjin. Their relationship had seemed so detached but she supposed neither of them were the type to display affection so freely—especially given their positions in the upper echelons of Seoul’s high society. Their home was different and Hyunjin had been invited into their secret small circle. How interesting. She wondered how it would escalate in future sessions—if Seungmin would participate.
Seungmin smiled then, small and real. “You’re welcome,” she said before settling back in her seat and crossing one leg atop the other. “Go on. Enjoy yourself.”
Changbin turned back towards her and Hyunjin obediently put her hands to the side—Changbin wanted to peel her apart for himself. He did not reach up to unclasp the bra like Hyunjin had expected, rather he pulled the cup of Hyunjin’s stretchy bra down until her breast was exposed. Hyunjin’s blood began to pump harder. She’d grown used to this sight, her breasts engorged with milk, the veins standing out under her skin, her skin taut and warm to the touch. She could see herself begin to leak—just as she felt herself begin to drip in her underwear, heat pooling in her gut.
Changbin’s hand was cool and slightly dry when he got his palm around her breast and squeezed ever so slightly. The first drop of milk pearled at her nipple and Hyunjin inhaled sharply; all three of them watched it drip down the curve of her breast, before it collected in the fabric of her bra.
“How would you like me to behave?” she asked before Changbin could lose himself entirely in her. “Cry or scream?”
Seungmin laughed, then, and it was a singularly shocking sound. Hyunjin did not think she had laughed once—hadn’t realised Seungmin possessed the ability. Changbin did not seem to register the joke. His eyes hadn’t moved from her tits since she’d sat down.
Seungmin answered for him. “Whatever you please,” she said just as Changbin leaned down, his hot breath washing over her skin before he took her in hand and put his mouth on her.
Hyunjin was glad for the permission because she was unsure she could have controlled the noise that slid from her mouth when Changbin began to suck. It was nothing at all like the pump, despite Hyunjin’s expectations. Changbin’s mouth was hot and wet, sucking tentatively at first and then harder once the milk began to fill his mouth.
Changbin made a noise, soft and rumbling as if some base need had finally been satisfied and his hand clenched around Hyunjin’s breast, squeezing harder—sucking more. The sensation travelled straight down her body, sparking pain in her nipple that shot down into her cunt. She began to drip, feeling the slick collect in her underwear.
“Shit,” Hyunjin exhaled and met Seungmin’s eyes over Changbin’s head.
She was watching them, gaze unmoving from where Changbin’s mouth was latched onto Hyunjin. He was not lying over Hyunjin so much as he was braced against her side, face pressed into her chest and so Seungmin was afforded a clear view of the proceedings. Seungmin only spared Hyunjin a brief glance before watching her husband again.
Satisfied her participation was not needed, Hyunjin let her head fall back against the couch, closing her eyes. The sensations surrounded her—it felt strange. Good, and satisfying and pleasurable and horrifying all at once. She couldn’t understand her body’s reaction to it—why she was enjoying it so much when she’d spent the last three months shying away from the reality of what she’d agreed to. Why her cunt was throbbing in time with the blood pumping furiously through her veins. Changbin made another growling noise and it tugged Hyunjin inward, until she was so aware of every physical twitch and pull it became almost overwhelming.
“Does she taste good, Changbin?” Seungmin’s voice broke through her near-panic and Hyunjin pushed her head back up, blinking. Sweat had begun to pool in her knees. She’d never been quite so present during a job before, so forcibly attuned to the sensations. When she was fucked, she was often elsewhere, thinking about her future plans, how she would get home, whether tonight warranted a long soak in the tub or just a shower. It was easy for her to make the appropriate noises, to beg when it was desired, to tear up and claw at the sheets, even while she was thinking about the load of laundry she had yet to do.
There was no thought of household chores in her head now. She was aware of every single thing.
Changbin pulled back to answer. “So good,” he said, voice thick and sure. Milk spilled from her nipple, down the corner of his mouth and Hyunjin’s fingers curled into fists, even as she trembled. When he looked up at her, his eyes were hazy with satisfaction. “Can I take more?”
It was surprisingly pleasant for a man who spoke about her like she was a thing. Hyunjin nodded and, after a brief look at Seungmin, put her hand against Changbin’s cheek and guided him to her other breast, pulling another pillow onto her lap to rest his head on. He had to lean over her body and she felt his erection pressing into her hip as he began to drink again. Hyunjin expected to feel his hands slide down, for him to push her down and escalate, to grind up against her hip until he came but surprisingly Changbin did not do so.
He only continued to drink, sloppily and more eagerly now, the milk spilling out over his mouth as he moaned with pleasure. Hyunjin pressed her lips together and tried not to make any further sounds—she didn’t want to reveal just how much this was affecting her, how much she desperately wanted to be fucked, just as much as she wanted to run away and never look back.
When she began to empty and the pressure receded, Changbin slowed. He squeezed her breast experimentally a few times but when no more came, he pulled back. Hyunjin exhaled shakily, her hand going to her chest automatically to feel the heat pulsing back out at her. It was a relief for the pulsating dread and pleasure to recede but all she could think about was how she so desperately wanted to do it again. She wanted to feel that sensation again—a wet mouth on her skin, the undeniable warmth of another human body taking what it needed from hers. The pump would be paltry after this.
Changbin, for his part, looked dazed as he pushed himself away from her and only looked away from Hyunjin when Seungmin wordlessly rose and came over.
“Did you enjoy it?” Seungmin asked him as she helped him up. She handed Hyunjin a towel and Hyunjin covered herself, watching Seungmin wipe Changbin’s mouth and chin with smaller washcloth.
Changbin nodded. “It was good,” he said, voice surprisingly clear despite the glazed look in his eyes. He didn’t seem to be at all bothered by the erection still straining in his pants.
“I think she liked it too,” Seungmin said conspiratorially to Changbin and Hyunjin felt herself blush, hot and shameful as they both looked down at her with twin expressions of interest. She could not confess the truth but Seungmin seemed to already realise it and did not seemed all that bothered by Hyunjin’s arousal.
Eventually, Changbin excused himself and Hyunjin entered the bathroom Seungmin directed her to. She ordered her taxi and then began to perfunctorily clean herself, swapping her sticky, wet bra out for a clean one and putting the other one into a plastic bag to be washed. She did the same with her shirt, even though it hadn’t been stained and then washed her face and reapplied her makeup. Only then did she allow herself to acknowledge the wet between her thighs, the remnant heat still pulsing in her core.
Thankfully, she’d worn dark jeans today. There would be no outward evidence. She looked at herself in the mirror, the flush that had still yet to fade from her cheeks and smoothed her hair down, tucking it behind her ears, straightened her spine and then went to face the lions whose den she’d willingly walked into.
Changbin was nowhere to be found but Seungmin was waiting by the entrance, checking her phone and frowning faintly in discontent. As Hyunjin approached, she put her phone away and looked up, expression smoothening into a pleasant smile.
“Thank you for coming,” she said, as if Hyunjin had just finished a particularly arduous landscaping job. “I’ll email you when our schedules align next.” She paused and then tilted her head at Hyunjin. “Perhaps, we’ll get more involved next time. I have some ideas.”
Hyunjin nodded, unsurprised. She wondered if Seungmin would sit with her next time, if she would milk Hyunjin herself, straight into her husbands open mouth. If she would allow Changbin to fuck Hyunjin—if she would fuck Hyunjin herself. Much about Seungmin continued to surprise Hyunjin but Hyunjin had no desire to peel back the cover any further. She was already plenty unsettled with the smooth placid smile that had yet to slip from Seungmin’s face once.
“I’ll see you then,” she said and politely let herself out the door, not looking back as it slid shut behind her with a weighty thud. Her stomach turned over on itself—releasing from the tense ball it had been locked in since she’d entered their house. The two of them had an uncanny ability to make her feel like prey—just with their smiles and cool amusement. It was a relief to be in the taxi, curling around the river back to her apartment on the other side of the city. Far away from those two and their reaching, demanding hands.