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Chan lingered for a moment outside Jeongin’s door to take a deep breath. Even though they did this every week, he still found himself getting nervous.
He knocked.
”Come in,” Jeongin called.
Chan twisted the knob and stepped inside, his face already warming. “Are you busy?” He glanced at Jeongin’s computer, the folder on his desk. He looked busy. Maybe they should skip this week, maybe they–
“Not at all.” Jeongin patted an empty spot on his desk. “Just give me a minute.”
Okay, Chan thought. So we’re doing this.
He stepped forward and set his paper down on Jeongin’s desk. He filled one out every week, an agreed upon term to their dynamic. “Here, Sir.”
Sir.
It was more than a word. A signal that they were stepping out of their ordinary roles, that something in this room was changing. Names had power. Once a week for a few hours Jeongin was not Jeongin, not IN, and not maknae. He was Sir.
Jeongin didn’t even glance at him this time, instead waved a dismissive hand in his direction. “Strip and wait on the floor, Puppy.”
Puppy.
The humiliation of it all had Chan blushing. But, yet again, a necessary feature to this arrangement. He was not Chan, not Hyung, and certainly not Jeongin’s leader. Once a week, in this room, he was Puppy.
Chan padded softly over to the center of Jeongin’s bedroom, removed his sweatpants and hoodie, and dropped to his knees.
They’d begun this only a few months ago.
It started as a joke. The idea that Chan was so high strung, yet simultaneously so inept at caring for himself, that he needed someone to do it for him. And then Jeongin had begun checking in, asking after his sleep and eating habits, his self-care. And then, after realizing Chan’s self-care was essentially non existent, Jeongin had gently suggested making this thing more official.
Turned out Jeongin had already spent a little time as a dom; he’d been more than willing to extend his skills to his roommate.
Their contract had been simple. Their dynamic couldn’t interfere with work or with the group, so 90% of the time they were themselves. Chan was still the leader, he was still in charge. But once a week they met to review his log. A single sheet of paper that tracked his sleep, his eating, and his overall well-being. A good week earned him a reward, a bad week a punishment.
Already, it seemed to be helping. He thrived off of accountability and praise. Jeongin’s attention was like a drug.
At last, Jeongin closed his computer and picked up Chan’s log. He read it quietly for a moment, his brow furrowed, and then looked down to where Chan waited on the floor. “Want to explain what I’m seeing here, Pup?”
Chan’s head dipped a bit further. “Sir, it—“
”We agreed you’d go to bed by midnight, right?”
“But—“
”Ah.” Jeongin put the paper back down. “You know I don’t want your excuses. Be good.”
”Sorry, Sir.” Chan wanted to curl up and disappear. He’d known tonight would not go well. Deadlines had been creeping up on him, and his sleep was the only part of his schedule that had any give. Rest was always the first thing he compromised on.
“What a shame,” Jeongin continued. He folded his arms across his chest. “I’d been planning to be nice tonight. Bought you a new toy and everything.”
Chan risked a glance up. When he was good, when his log was how it should be, he got to cum. However Jeongin decided, of course. And usually after a maintenance spanking. Still, it was a reward. And it always came with heaps of praise and cuddles, reassurance that he was a good puppy. God, all he wanted right now was that bliss. To be told he was doing all right.
But he didn’t deserve it. He knew that.
“Here.” Jeongin tapped his thigh.
Chan knew better then to stand. He was rarely allowed that sort of privilege here. Instead he crawled over, head dipped to stare at the floor, and repositioned himself on his knees between Jeongin’s legs.
“Look at me, Puppy.”
Reluctantly, Chan did. The disappointment he saw stung, and he had to consciously resist looking away again. He’d wanted to be a good puppy this week. He’d had every intention of going to bed on time, not exceeding his allotted gym hours, and eating at least two fun food items, not just his diet regime. But all that had fallen to the side the instant he’d gotten busy. The truth was, he just didn’t prioritize himself unless he was forced to.
“You wrote that you ate some pizza with Hyunjin. Is that true?”
Chan glanced away for a split second. “Well—“
”That’s sounding like an excuse.” Jeongin’s frown deepened. “Do you want to make another excuse with me? Hm?”
”No, Sir.” Chan swallowed thickly. “I had… A few bites, I think.”
”But not even one full piece?”
He wanted to explain that he was on a cut, that even one piece felt like an irreversible failure, but knew better. So he nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
”That makes no fun food this week? That’s not how good Puppies act, is it?”
Chan shook his head. He knew his allotted two bits of fun food a week wouldn’t ruin his gym progress. But knowing it and actually doing it were two different things. He’d spent so much of his life on a rigorous food plan — now even a tiny treat felt like disaster.
“You answer me.”
”Sorry, Sir.” Chan shrunk down a bit further, rolled his shoulders over. “I’ll do better next week, I promise.”
”I don’t like your promises.” Jeongin reached out and pushed a hand into Chan’s hair, petting them there for a moment. The action was a bit demeaning, but comforting nonetheless. “You broke two of our agreed upon rules. Your wellbeing rules. What happens next?” Chan mumbled his answer so softly that Jeongin’s hand tightened viciously and yanked his head backwards. “Speak up.”
”Punishment,” Chan quickly amended. He winced at the sharp, tingling pain in his scalp. “I deserve it. I’m sorry. Sir, please, I—“
”Shut up.” Jeongin released him roughly and pointed to the nearest corner. “Go. Think about what the fuck you’ve done while I finish working.”
Chan gave a pathetic shake of his head. “Sir, I hate the corner, please—“
”Aw, Puppy doesn’t like his punishment?” Jeongin grabbed him by the arm and started pulling. “Puppy too dumb to understand punishments aren’t supposed to be fun?”
He shoved him into the corner. Nose to the wall, arms folded uncomfortably behind his back, knees against the hard wooden floor. Chan only got corner time when he broke wellbeing rules, because they both knew he hated it. Empty time to think about his life, about his stupidity, and about what was going to come next. Absolutely miserable.
Jeongin stepped away but was back a moment later, a familiar jingling sound accompanying him. The collar, then. The one with the pink bow and the little bell. Jeongin clipped it around Chan’s throat and then laughed lightly. “Stupid Puppy. Now stay.”
Chan did as he was told. He stayed.
It was agony. Jeongin returned to his desk and resumed typing on his computer, which meant the only sounds were awful silence and incessant clicking. The minutes seemed to melt into molasses, creeping by cruelly slow.
Chan fought the urge to squirm, because it would only increase his time here, but around the ten minute mark his knees began to ache. He felt so lonely here, so rejected. All he wanted was Jeongin’s attention. If they could just get the punishment done then he’d be okay. He wanted it over, he wanted to skip to the part where he got forgiven and kissed and taken care of.
“Are you thinking about what you did?” Jeongin asked after another few minutes passed. His typing didn’t even pause.
Chan gave a pathetic sniffle in answer. “Yes, Sir.”
”Aw, are you gonna cry already?”
”Yes, Sir.”
”Good. You’ve been bad.” Then Jeongin went silent again, and the minutes continued to drag.
At last, after what felt like hours but had likely only been around thirty minutes, Jeongin stood from his desk. He rummaged around for a bit, likely just to torture Chan a bit further, and then crossed the room to sit on the edge of his bed. “Puppy,” he called, “come.”
Gratefully, Chan turned away from the corner and crawled over once again. His ears were hot. Something about the sight of Jeongin fully clothed, sitting casually on the bed, while Chan crawled in nothing but his underwear…
”Now,” Jeongin said. His voice was deceitfully soft. “I know the only way stupid puppies like you learn is through pain, right?”
Chan winced, but managed a nod. “Right, Sir.”
”But I still can’t decide how much pain. You were pretty bad. Bad enough for the cane?”
Chan felt the blood drain from his face. “No, Sir,” he said quickly. “No. I promise. I was good for everything else, I don’t need the cane. Please. Please.”
An amused smile spread across Jeongin’s face. “Pathetic.”
”Please,” Chan said again. He ducked his head down, pressed his forehead to Jeongin’s knee. “Sir, please.”
Jeongin sighed. “Fine. Go get your paddle, then.”
Chan nodded, quickly crawling over to the bottom drawer that held their things. The paddle was bad, but he could handle it. It didn’t strike fear into him the way the cane did. He pulled it out, stuck the handle between his teeth, and brought it back like that. The bell jingled as he went.
Humiliating.
Jeongin pulled it from his mouth and tossed it aside. “Up.”
By this point, Chan didn’t need further instructions. When he was good he got hand spankings over Jeongin’s lap, but when he was bad he took implement punishments on the bed.
Still, the familiarity didn’t make it any less degrading as he bent himself over the edge of the mattress, his ass presented. He fisted bits of the duvet in his hands, just to make sure he wasn’t tempted to reach backwards. He’d made that mistake only once.
“Twenty,” Jeongin said. “And I’ll take a ‘thank you, sir’ for each one.”
Chan flinched just barely. Twenty was a lot with the paddle. The thing was narrow and dotted with holes. Jeongin wielded it without mercy. ”Yes, Sir.”
He expected to begin, but instead felt Jeongin’s lithe fingers slip beneath the waistband of his underwear.
“Sir,” Chan said quickly, risking a look back over his shoulder. “Please, don’t make me, it’s— It’s—“
”It’s embarrassing?” Jeongin finished. He laughed. “Of course it is. But I need to see the damage I’m doing to your pretty ass, don’t I?” And with that the last barrier between Chan’s bottom and the paddle was yanked down to his ankles.
Chan pressed his face into the bed and braced for the first strike. It didn’t come right away, because Jeongin liked watching him squirm. But at last the first smack came, landed right on the undercurve of his ass, a burning rectangle of pure fire.
Chan’s fists turned bloodless around the blanket, but he didn’t forget his rules. “Thank you, Sir.”
”Aw, you’re welcome Puppy.”
Another. In the same spot.
“Thank you, Sir.”
After that Jeongin’s swings grew relentless. He barely paused long enough for Chan to squeak out his words before landing the next spank. He focused primarily on the sit spots, the tops of Chan’s thighs. Places that would bruise badly, would make sitting a painful ordeal for the entire next week.
By the time the fifteenth landed Chan was fighting off sobs, his back muscles straining with the effort of staying still. He wanted so badly to crawl away and escape the next brutal swing. But he deserved each and every one of them, he knew that. He’d been a bad puppy. He needed this.
The paddle dropped onto the bed.
“Puppy?” Jeongin said softly. He sat beside Chan, one hand rubbing a soothing circle into his lower back. “You didn’t thank me for that last one.”
”’m sorry,” Chan managed. He took in a shuddering breath. “Hurts.”
”I bet it does. Badly?”
Chan nodded, face still hidden against the bed.
“Too badly?”
Chan knew what this was: A way out. Because even though they had a safe word, Chan had yet to use it. “No,” he whispered. His voice was cracked and thick with tears. “Deserve it.”
”Mhm,” Jeongin agreed. “Next week you’re gonna stick to your bedtime, aren’t you?”
”Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Last five.” He stood back up, retrieved the paddle, and tapped Chan’s bottom with it in warning. “Miss a ‘thank you’ again, and I’ll be adding to your count. Understood?”
Chan tensed just from the thought of it. “Understood, Sir.”
He should’ve known better than to think Jeongin would go easy on him for the last few. The next one landed on his thighs, the sting so intense that Chan cried out, fresh tears springing to his eyes. It wasn’t just the pain, but the awful humiliation of it all. The fact that he needed this, that he liked it. “Thank you, Sir.”
”That’s a good boy. Taking it so well.”
And that released the dam. Chan took the last four full on sobbing, face hidden in his arms, his “Thank you, Sir”s coming out barely distinguishable. But Jeongin accepted them, praised him for them. And then, after landing one final bruising smack to the middle of his ass, Jeongin tossed the paddle aside and rejoined him on the bed.
”Come here.” He guided Chan up slowly, shouldering him as he slumped forward, and began wiping the tears away. “You did very good,” he said, running a thumb under each eye. “I’m not mad at you anymore. Good Puppy, hm?”
Chan gave a feeble nod. “Good Puppy,” he confirmed. It was all he wanted to be.
He felt totally limp, like his bones had turned to jelly. But Jeongin knew how to handle him in this state, and leaned them both back against the pillows, Chan’s head tucked against his chest. “Deep breaths,” he mumbled. “Let me hear them. Come on.”
Chan did as he was told, focused on taking big gulps of air and then letting them out with a whoosh.
“Oh,” Jeongin cooed gently. “What a good puppy, listening to Sir so well. Give me another.”
Chan did. Anything for more praise.
And then, once his breathing was beginning to come back under control, Jeongin started peppering his face with little kisses. He whispered praises the whole time, telling Chan how nicely he’d stayed still, how perfectly he’d taken it, how all was forgiven.
They stayed that way for a while, until Chan’s heart slowed and his brain felt a bit less foggy.
“All right,” Jeongin said. “Let me look at you.”
Chan groaned. He didn’t want to be looked at, he wanted to be snuggled like this until he fell asleep. But Jeongin never allowed that, he was too thorough. Chan wouldn’t be sleeping until he’d had a snack, a glass of water, and done his nighttime routine. Wellbeing, after all, was one of their rules.
Reluctantly, he rolled onto his stomach. He winced a little as Jeongin carefully prodded at his bottom, looking for any blood spotting or particularly bad welts. There didn’t seem to be anything concerning, though, because all he did was give Chan a little rub. It stung, but the touch was nice.
“You look all right, just very sore,” Jeongin said. “I’ll get you something to eat. You want leftovers?”
”Mm,” Chan rolled onto his side and peered up from the pile of pillows. “Bring me something fun.”
“Fun?”
”Mhm. Is there any ice cream left?”
Jeongin’s face split into a smile. A startlingly genuine one. “There should be.” He stepped close again, bent down, and put a kiss in Chan’s hair. “And if there isn’t I’ll go buy you some.”
”No, you don’t have to—“
”Ah,” Jeongin said. He narrowed his eyes a little. “You know better than to argue with Sir.”
Chan grinned. Now was the funny part of the night where they were slipping away from Sir and Puppy. It sometimes took a little while before their headspace’s felt normal again. But, honestly, Chan didn’t mind a little extra time as Puppy. “Right,” he said softly. He pulled the duvet up over him, snuggling down gratefully, already excited for when Jeongin came back again to join. “Sorry, Sir.”