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reinforced punishment

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His palms are balmy, his eyes darting around the room as if he doesn’t know where to look—which is a lie because he knows exactly where to, but he’s afraid. His body is uncontrollably shaking, his knees about to give out, and he can’t control it.

“You know what’s about to happen, right, Sungie?”


His body quakes at the sound of Chan’s voice. Footsteps echo in the small room of the studio. Jisung stands awkwardly in the center of the room, his posture as straight as possible with his hands balled in fists at his sides.

“I’m sorry—”

“I know.”

“You must not be sorry if you keep doing it, Hannie.” Changbin rises from his perch on the black couch behind them, scoffing as he strolls over to Jisung’s side. “You keep doing it, almost like you want to be punished, huh?” The brunette brings his face closer to Han’s, hovering over his shoulder as he speaks directly in his ear.

“No—I—I didn’t mean to—” Jisung tries desperately tries to plea.

“I know, baby,” Chan speaks again, pacing in front of him as he gazes up at him. His eyes are gentle, but there’s a sinister darkness behind them. He licks his lips as he walks towards Jisung, stopping on the other side of him. “But you know what’s going to happen.”

“I do.” Jisung’s voice is small, on the verge of cracking. He thickly swallows as his eyes connect with Chan’s, watching as the older reaches up as traces his jawline with a single finger. He drags down onto his neck, down to the center of his collarbones, tugging lightly on the neckband of his shirt.

“Looks like we’ll have to teach you again, Sungie,” Chan drawls, “You just won’t learn if we just scold you.”

“Chan, ‘m sorry. I won’t do it again, please.”

“Saying you’re ‘sorry’ and ‘please’ isn’t gonna work this time, Hannie,” Chan sings with a smirk. He squeezes Jisung’s arm, resting his chin on the ball of his shoulder.

“Changbin,” Jisung practically cries, attempting to turn to face him, but Changbin merely grabs his jaw and forces him to look straight.

“Tsk, tsk,” the leader clicks his tongue. “You can’t beg your way out of this.”

“Yeah, don’t lie. You want this.” Changbin giggles, peeling himself off Jisung and stepping back with his arms folded.


“If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have forgotten the lyrics or the choreography again, Hannie. We think you do it on purpose.” Changbin and Chan share a look, a grin. They join in front of Jisung, mirroring the same pose as they stare at him.

Jisung frets, tightening his fists until his knuckles turn white. He bites the corner of his lip as he fidgets under their glare, unsure what to say back to them. He swallows again, a pit of nervousness collecting in the back of his throat. There’s no denying it. He knows that he’s the worst at remembering the choreography or the lyrics, even if he wrote them himself. Even though it usually happened in practices, this time… This time he fucked up.

It wasn’t a major production, but he messed up, nonetheless. Jisung regrettably forgot the words to his part, having a mental blank in the middle of his rap. He was unable to recover quickly like he usually did, full on stopping his body and looking around. Thank goodness it wasn’t live, so they could refilm it, but shit… He really fucked up.

Jisung remembers the look that Chan and Changbin gave him, shaking their heads at him before going to apologize to the staff. The group collectively grumbled and consoled him, calling it typical, but also telling him not to mind it. Still, even throughout the second retake, even though he did his part perfectly, he could feel the other two’s presence the entire time.

That look was much akin to the one they were giving him now.


The command rolls off Chan’s tongue, his eyes following him down as Jisung wordlessly obeys, bending his knees so that he’s lower than them. Jisung sits on the back of his heels, never once turning away from them. He places his fists on his thighs, preparing himself for any further instructions.


This order comes from Changbin, who uses his brows to gesture at his shirt. Jisung looks down, begins to unfasten the black, button-down he was wearing. He does it slowly, as if any sudden movements would anger the two of them. After the last button, he pulls the top off him, shuddering at the sudden exposure. It was cold in here; the air condition felt like it was on full blast, but perhaps it was the fact that he was half-naked and being watched. Jisung’s cheeks tinted red, feeling warm as the color spread throughout his face. Putting the shirt neatly to the side of him, his eyes fluttered back up to Changbin and Chan, who he hadn’t noticed took a step closer towards him.


Fuck, Jisung liked it when the instructions were short. He liked when they were almost rude about it. He changed his position to take off his combat boots and socks, arranging them neatly before moving on. His own cock twitched in excitement in his jeans as his fingers tugged at the button. Jisung stood up briefly to pull down his jeans, stripping them off and then folding them to place them next to his shirt.

There was something about stripping like this in front of people that made him more nervous than usual. He’s been nude in front of them before, but not like this. Usually, Chan would be the one undressing him, and usually they’d already be kissing. He felt small under their stare, vulnerable as he’s sits back down.

“Look, Chan, he’s wearing what we told him to wear.”

“He’s half-hard too. Does this turn you on Jisung?”

It does.

Jisung hadn’t noticed, but his member was beginning to react. He knew what was to come, what they were going to eventually do to him, and he wanted it. Already he could imagine them bending him over the studio desk, railing into him with their girthy cocks as he screams to fill the soundproof studio.

His cock twitches again, pressing sensitively against the soft lace of the black panties he was told to wear. Changbin had left the pair in his room on his bed, in a small bag with a note that said ‘For you. 7:00PM.’ Once he saw what was inside, it clicked what was to come. Jisung already knew what he was getting into, and it could probably be said that he practically ran to the studio to meet them.

“Y-yes, sir,” he says, his tone a bit too happy, that it makes Chan shake his head.

“That’s no good,” he says, “It’s supposed to be punishment.”

“Aw, he can’t help it being the whore he is, Chan,” Changbin laughs, scoffing at Jisung who sits there silently. He resists the urge to moan at the insult, the urge to nod because it’s true.

“You’re right. He loves being bad, huh? Maybe he does it on purpose.” They’re talking like he’s not even though, as if he’s not in the room and it only turns Jisung on more. He hates being ignored, and they’re not even looking at him as they speak to each other. He hates it, but at the same time, it arouses him.

“Oh, he definitely does it on purpose.”

“I’m pretty sure he likes being punished.”

“No, he loves it.”

They finally turn to him, arms folded as they look him up and down.

“Whatever are we to do with you, Sungie?” Changbin thinks aloud, smiling slightly as he steps forward. Chan follows suit, them now standing right in front of Jisung, who looks up at them with wide, brown eyes.

“What do you think, Jisung?” The leader bends down, his face so close to Jisung he can feel his breath on his cheek.

“I—I want it…” Jisung breathes.

“Want what, baby?” Chan says, planting a singular peck on his cheek. The younger shudders, his posture faltering for a second, but he quickly recovers.

Clearing his throat, he speaks again, “I want… the punishment.”

“See?” Changbin comments. “He wants it.”

“Hmm, he is a little whore, isn’t he?” Chan nods, running a hand through Jisung’s long, black hair. He tangles his fingers in his locks, tugging his head backwards as he stands upright again. “Well, baby, you’re going to have to do a bit of work then.” Flashing a toothy grin, he then abruptly pulls Jisung into the front of his pants, rubbing his cheek along the rough denim. Jisung yelps at the pull, holding back a moan as he feels the hardness of Chan’s cock on his face.

“You know what you have to do, huh, baby?” The older speaks again, letting go of Jisung’s head. The younger simply nods, wordlessly reaching up to undo Chan’s jeans. He drags his pants down, lowering the hem so that his boxers are exposed. He begins to mouth at the fabric, planting soft kisses on the outline of his dick, leaving small pools of saliva as he moves down the length.

“So desperate,” Changbin chuckles as he watches.

“So needy,” Chan replies, stifling his moans as Jisung works on him. After a few moments, Jisung breaches the elastic of his boxers, yanking down the fabric. His cock bounces, smacking Jisung on the cheek lightly as it settles in front of him. As it stills, Jisung kisses the tip gently, kitten licking around the slit. He breaks away briefly, collecting spit in the dip of his tongue before lapping a stripe along the side of Chan’s member. Batting his eyelashes up to exchange glances, he takes the head into his mouth, teasingly moving painstakingly slow as he slides his lips down the shaft.

The older moans at this, taking hold of the back of his head as he watches Jisung’s lips stretch around the width of his cock. Jisung begins to bob, flattening his tongue on the underside as he glides in alternating paces.

“How is it, baby?” Chan groans down at him, and Jisung responds with an unintelligible, muffled noise.

Plucking himself off momentarily, he moans, “Mmhf, s’ good.”

“This is what you wanted, right?” Jisung peeks to the side and gasps, not realizing that Changbin had also undressed his lower half. His jeans pooled at his knees, stepping towards Jisung as he stroked his own erection. He pressed the tip against Jisung’s puffy cheek, podding him until he turned his way. “So greedy as always,” Changbin says as Jisung devours his cock as well, using his hand to stroke Chan’s.

The younger switches between the two of them, stuffing his mouth full of their cocks and dividing his attention as best he could. He’s using his hands as well, tugging at them when his mouth was occupied. His jaw begins to hurt from working so hard, threatening to lock, but he keeps on, almost desperately.



Jisung looks up at Chan, removing himself. The two of them step back, holding their cocks in their hands as they lightly stroke themselves. Pulling something from his pocket, Chan hides it in his fists as he hands it to Jisung. He drops it into his open hands, and it’s a small, black silicone cock ring. The boy looks up at Chan, then back at it. He’s also handed a bottle of lube in response, offering only a chuckle as Chan and Changbin settle themselves on the desk.

Without words, Jisung knows what he must do. He puts the ring on himself, embarrassingly so as he feels their eyes on him. It makes him quiver, nervous as if he’s some performer of some kind. He’s never prepared himself in front of others before. Sure, he’s done it before in the privacy of his bedroom or the bathroom, but usually Chan or Changbin would help whenever they fooled around. He sits there for a moment, staring at the plastic bottle as if it’s some foreign object he’s never seen before.

“Come on, baby,” Chan says, and Jisung looks up to have his eyes meet. “Ready yourself if you want us so bad.” Sitting here, he hesitates to get up, squeezing the bottle in his hand as he idly chews the corner of his lip.

Finally, he moves, perching himself on the couch, fanning his legs open so that they can see all of him. He hears Changbin whine in response, but he’s too focused on the feeling of being so exposed. Glancing up, he smirks down as he dribbles some of the liquid onto his cock, trickling down teasingly into the crevice of his ass as well. Tossing the bottle aside, he slides his hands all over himself, tugging lightly at his member before circling his hole. He moves slowly, almost tauntingly because he knows that as much as this excites him, it excites them as well.

Soon his own patience runs out, and he uses a singular finger to dive into himself, moaning exaggeratively as he slides in and out, in and out. Another finger enters, and he begins to aggressively stretch himself, scissoring, twisting, curling. Jisung makes it a point to look up every so often, drinking in the image of Changbin and Chan jerking themselves to the sight of him.

He does this for a while, conflicting between taking his time and rushing because he’s already mentally prepared. Chan notices, getting up from the desk to step towards Jisung and Changbin follows shortly after. Wordlessly, he leans forward towards Jisung, softly pecking his lips before becoming more combative with his tongue. They’re kissing, and Jisung understands that this is his reward for doing well. They change positions, having the younger on his hands and knees. Chan perches himself behind and Changbin stands in front of Jisung, who is bent over the armrest.

“This what you want, Sungie?” the leader says, emphasizing his words with the slight press of the tip of his cock onto Jisung’s hole. Changbin teases the same way, sliding his erection on the width of Jisung’s lips.

The black-haired boy nods, wordlessly opening his mouth wide as he consumes Changbin into himself. Chan grins as he presses his cock into Jisung’s hole, making him rip from Changbin temporarily with a yelp before going back for more. He begins to thrust, slowly at first, of course, but increasingly faster, more powerful. Jisung rides the rhythm into Changbin, letting the leader set the pace of how his head bobs against his throat. His moans are loud but muffled with Changbin’s girth filling up his cheeks.

Shit, sorry,” Chan mutters before pulling on Jisung’s legs to flip him around onto his back. He grabs him by the thighs and forces his knees to press against his chest, propping his ass high in the air to be taken again. Chan plunges in again without warning, and Jisung can only toss his head back onto the armrest, his eyes rolling backwards as his walls are stretched once more. He can’t focus on anything properly, his attention jumping from the orgasm building painfully in his cock, the overwhelming sensation of being filled in his ass, and the squelching sound of Changbin masturbating next to his ear, his member soaked with Jisung’s saliva smothered all over it.

The room is filled with their voices, alternating between thrusts and smacks of skin against skin. Their orgasms are building, building fast. Changbin realigns himself with Jisung’s mouth, who greedily turns his head to devour him once again.


“Such a slut.”

“You feel so fucking good.”

Changbin is the first to release, deep as he pushes himself in a final time to touch base at the back of his throat. It’s warm, so warm as it gushes into Jisung, filling his throat and his cheeks, coating his teeth and the flat of his tongue. As Changbin pulls out, the sticky liquid forms a string the breaks once he’s finally separated. He eyes the pool of come inside of Jisung’s mouth, panting heavily as he watches the younger swallow it whole. His face is messy, painted a deep red and eyes glazed. So pretty. Changbin leans forward above him, kissing him gently in the center of his forehead.

The leader’s efforts are renewed, urging himself quicker and harder than before. He adjusts Jisung again, spreading his legs open as wide as possible so that he can move freely. His grip on his thighs tightens, so much so that Jisung notes that there might be bruises tomorrow, which he doesn’t mind at all. In fact, it excites him. He likes when they leave marks on him.

Chan knows this fact, which is why the next thing he does is raise his hand high in the air only to bring it hard down onto his ass. Jisung yelps in reply, swallowing the last sound as Chan does it once more. A tinge of red swells his bottom cheeks, and there’s a sting on his skin that stays.

“This is what you wanted, huh, baby?” Chan groans. Another smack.

“Fuck—Yes, yes, what I wanted,” Jisung struggles between rams and slaps, his voice nearly cracking from the pain and pleasure.

He glances up and watches as Chan grins back at him, an evil thought forming a twinkle in his eyes.

“What if your beloved Minho saw you like this, Jisung?” he laughs, contradictory to the gentle way he soothes circles on the red spot darkening on his skin.

Jisung’s eyes shoot wide open, caught off guard by the notion. His mind flashes an image of Minho’s face, what he imagines would be a horrified look if he were to ever discover what a cockslut he was. He moves to mouth a reply, but a particular thrust punches the air out of him and he moans instead.

Changbin’s smiling as well, returning to lean over Jisung to tug at his cute, neglected cock that was left to bounce against his navel. His fingers glaze over the silicone ring, making Jisung jolt in remembrance of it being there. “Yeah, you’d rather have Minho-hyung pound you like this, huh? We’re not enough for you, right, Sungie?” He joins in to goad him more.


“He’d be so surprised to see you like this.”

“He probably could never imagine you could be so filthy.”

So evil, Jisung thinks to himself, but he’s too overwhelmed to focus. They’re so wicked for bringing up Minho in this moment. They know about his not-so-secret crush on him, and he knows that they wouldn’t dare out him or anything, but the idea of Minho seeing him like this, a writhing wreck between them, whining for more as he’s being hammered deep into with Chan’s large, throbbing cock. The look of disappointment, confusion, and hopefully arousal as Minho stares at him… Fuck, that’s hot.

It’s painful down there. The ring strains against his skin.

“You think Minho would even recognize him?”

“Probably not. He’s ruined, huh?”

“He loves being like this though.”

“He wants this after all.”

They’re doing that thing again, where they act like Jisung isn’t really there, and he’s not really because shit, his peak is almost here. The conversation makes him feel small, so cheapened, but in a good way.

“Chan—Changbin—” he says, but no one responds to him. It’s as if he’s being treated like a piece of meat, a toy for sexual pleasure. He feels himself twitch in response. He can’t help but smile, even though he can’t keep his mouth shut, drool seeping from the corners of his mouth and unintelligible noises spilling out.

“Oh? What’s wrong, baby?” Chan slows himself, thrusting shallowly on purpose and softly as he turns towards Jisung.

The younger whines at the loss of pace, pulling Chan by the arm and locking eyes with him with his eyes furrowed. He seems to understand this because Chan increases finds a fast rhythm again, the corner of his lip curled as he angles himself to find the spot that makes Jisung squeal.

“Mmf—Wa-want to—Fuck!” He’s wailing, fingers wrapping tight around Chan’s firm biceps as his head presses into the cushion of the chair.

“Use your words to tell us what you want,” Changbin says, teasingly rubbing the skin around the ring.

“Mm—Shit, please!” Jisung nearly screams his words because they come bursting out of him like a battering ram, his lips trembling from gasping as Chan hits that spot again, and again, and again.

“Please what?”

Jisung struggles with his concentration, barely managing to form sentences that are coherent. “Please, let me…”—He shrieks, jolting as Changbin grips the base of his shaft— “Let me come, please!”

Satisfied, Changbin quickly tugs off the ring and tosses it to the side. He immediately returns, wrenching Jisung’s poor hard-on that’s been begging this entire time. Chan grunts loudly, rolling his hips fervently with purpose.

His body feels so hot, so full as if it’s about to explode. Jisung cries a final time as his body jerks up. The feeling of release submerges him, and it feels almost like he’s breaking. Warm spots of liquid decorate his own chest, spilling over Changbin’s hand as he relentlessly tugs his member a few more times before letting go. His body goes limp for a second—only for a second before Chan pulls him again.

“I’m not done with you,” Chan growls, a guttural low, nearly animalistic growl as he deepens his thrusts once more.

“P-please!” Jisung wails, tossing his head and arching his back. His legs shoot off from his chest, arms flailing to grip the couch as Chan pounds harshly into him. The overstimulation is too much at this point, and Jisung’s mind blanks. His eyes roll to the back of his head, and he can’t fucking breathe any more.

Finally, finally Chan comes, and it fills Jisung’s entire being with its heat. He pushes shallowly a few times before extracting himself, grinning as he observes his ejaculate dribble out from the younger’s pulsating hole. Jisung falls again, practically melting onto the couch as he wheezes, attempting to collect himself and catch his breath. Chan does the same, falling back to lean onto the table behind him.

“You did so well, baby,” Changbin leans to praise him, rubbing Jisung’s shoulders and chest lovingly as he urges him up to sit behind him. Jisung smiles at the embrace, pressing his cheek to his chest as he closes his eyes, humming into his skin in content.

“You’re evil for mentioning Minho.”

“I know, but you liked it.”

“I did.”

Chan strolls over and sits on the armrest on the opposite end of the couch, placing a hand on Jisung’s calf, stroking his thumb lightly against the grain of his faint hair. They should probably clean up because they’ve made a mess. There’s sweat and come everywhere, especially smeared all over the youngest of the three. Leaning over to grab the box of tissues on the side table, Chan is stopped by a hand—Jisung’s hand—on his shoulder.

“Hey, I’m not done with you yet.” Jisung grins, a fiendish grin.

“You’re insatiable.”

“He’s greedy.”

“Needy too.” The younger licks his lips, pulling himself up onto his knees as he wiggles his ass in Changbin’s direction.

“I thought this was supposed to be punishment?” A hand thwacks onto the globe of his ass, forcing his body to remember the sting from earlier.

“Ha, it was Jisung’s idea anyways, remember? Don’t we just go with what he wants?” The leader tilts forward, tracing Jisung’s jawline as he giggles at the comment. He’s not wrong.

Jisung bites at his fingers, clacking his teeth together in a joking fashion. “Yeah, so? Not like you mind.”

“Yeah, not like we mind.” Changbin repeats, but his focus drifts to a droplet of white liquid seeping from Jisung’s hole, slowly tricking down the meat of his milky-white thigh. He mutters a curse, reaching to grip his hips and pull him closer towards his own. Jisung yelps playfully, tossing his head back to stare at the other.

“Punish me?” he chuckles, immediately switching to a feigned innocent look. Jisung pouts exaggeratively, wagging his tail end to brush slightly against Changbin’s already half-hard cock.

“You’re never gonna learn anyways,” Chan speaks, gripping Jisung’s jaw and forcing him into a kiss.

“Nope. Never.”