Jimin - Dark Dom

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Many people know about Jimin's duality, his sweetness and his extreme sexiness. Only three know about his darkness, and you are two of them.

Now you also know damn well why he chose you as his new assistant. Sure, you signed up for the job because you wanted it, you wanted to be close to him, and this was your chance. But it was a slim chance with hundreds upon hundreds of candidates, so it wasn't like you actually expected it to happen. Every few minutes you asked yourself what the fuck you were thinking to apply in the first place. Yet there you were, nineteen and competing for an internship at his company with a lot of much better looking women (at least in your eyes), your ultrabook clutched to your chest so tightly that your knuckles showed white. When he pointed at you in the gathering, whispering something in his manager's ear, you were stricken dumb. But there it was, happening. He was choosing YOU. 

Now, two months later, you know more about Jimin's dark ways than any other human being. Problem is, you like his ways more than you should. His isn't the sweet kind of vanilla love, it's the rough, demanding fuckery of a master. Which is why you're waiting for him in this dark room at the company wearing nothing but a tanktop, a bra, and a string thong, just like he ordered. Because even if for the outside world you like to think of yourself as a rebel, you love obeying him. Sometimes you think that it wasn't attraction he felt for you on that first day, but that somehow he sensed your own darkness matched his so well. A darkness that you hadn't been aware of until you met him, and that he brought out. And now his kinky fuckery is the best part of your day.  When the door opens with a slow creak, you lick your lips, your fingers trembling on the gadgets in front of you. 

"What are you doing there, baby girl?" he asks in that soft androgynous voice that sends thrills down your spine. 

"I...I..." 

"Have you gotten those recordings , like I told you to?"

Of course you have, you always do your job. But you WANT his punishment. So...

"No. I suppose I got caught up in other--"

"No, no, no." His voice is still soft, but you feel the darker ripples underneath the surface. "You don't get caught in nothing else when I've given you an order. You know what happens if you disobey me." He walks over, torturously slowly, his shoes clipping the floor. You squeeze your eyes shut, your cheeks burning, your heart hammering inside your chest. You know what's coming, and you dread it and love it at the same time.

He stops behind you. You can already feel the heat of his body behind you, and you hear the shuffle of his clothes as he takes them off. His fingers brush the straps of your tank top off your shoulders, then he unclasps your bra, letting it fall to the floor. He takes a few seconds to drink in the sight of your smooth back. His fingers slide down the sides of your ribcage, sending ripples of pleasure and anxiety through you. You know what comes after his sweet touch - the beast is about to come out. He gathers your long straight hair in his hands and drapes it over your shoulder.

"Your hair is so silky," he slurs. "Your skin so smooth. Your tits so perfect. And you're all just mine."

He wraps his arms around you, plastering your back to his chest as his hands close over your breasts.

"Ah." The sound he makes is filled with delight. You can almost feel his smile against your ear. "They seem made for me. They fit perfectly in my palms. No other man will ever feel these tits in his hands. You know that, don't you."

You would answer, but you're too busy trying to control your breathing. He squeezes your breasts to elicit an answer, his rings biting into your flesh, causing you to inhale sharply. Your back stiffens against his hot body. His abs feel like a washing board against your lower back. 

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