"A friend," I repeated, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "How lucky. I'm a friend of Choso's too."
You took a step forward, your fingers brushing Maki's chest, feeling the warmth of her body through her dress. "A very close friend."
Maki laughed, a cheeky laugh that grated on your nerves. "Oh, I know. He told me everything. How you enjoy humiliating him. How he begs you to hurt him."
She leaned closer to you, her breasts brushing Choso's arm, her painted nails stroking his cheek. "It's so pathetic, isn't it? A big man being treated like a rag by a little girl."
You felt something dark and slimy rise in your throat. "Pathetic?" You laughed, a dry, humorless sound. "No, honey. You're pathetic if you think he's worth anything."
Choso flinched, as if you'd slapped him. Maki, on the other hand, smiled, her eyes sparkling with defiance. "Oh, so that's how it works?"
She pulled away from him, circling the table, her hips swaying hypnotically. "You treat him like shit, and he always comes back to you." She stopped behind you, and you felt her hot breath on your neck. "Interesting."
You didn't move. You didn't turn around. But you felt her body close to yours, her sweet scent of whiskey and Choso's sweat intoxicating your nostrils.
"It's not a game, Maki."
Your voice was low, dangerous. "You don't know what you're doing."
She laughed, her fingers brushing your shoulder, then slowly moving down, until they cupped your breasts through your dress. "Oh, I think so!"
Choso made a strangled noise, his eyes glued to Maki's fingers and his body tense as a violin string. "I think you're just afraid someone will steal your toy."
You closed your eyes for a second, then took a deep breath. You turned around, so quickly that Maki didn't have time to react. You grabbed her hair, pulling her toward you, your lips barely touching hers.
"Listen to me, you dickhead." Your voice was a hiss. "He's mine. When I want, how I want. And if you think you can keep him, you're just a stupid whore who doesn't understand who she's playing with."
Maki didn't pull away. In fact, she smiled as her lips brushed yours, and she stuck out her tongue, managing to lick your bottom lip.
"What if I wanted to play with you?"
You didn't answer. You didn't have time. Because at that moment, Choso stood up, the chair falling backward with a crash. "Enough." His voice was a roar, his hands balled into fists. "Both of you. Enough. Now."
***
The place was still throbbing with music and strobe lights that night, but for you, it felt like everything had stopped. Maki's words burned your skin, and Choso's gaze, that mix of shame and desire, was making your blood boil. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't think. You were just angry, that dull anger, that sense of betrayal that tightened your throat like a vice.
Choso was shaking. You saw him collapse to his knees on the worn red carpet, his hands clutching your dress, as if you could save him from drowning. His voice was shaky, broken, like a moan lost in the din of the room, but you felt it anyway, like a knife stuck in your ribs.
"Y/n, please…"
His fingers soon moved to grip the cold metal of your bag, his breathing labored, his eyes shining.
"Take me away from here. Punish me. Make me pay. I beg you."
You couldn't look away. It was pathetic, but it was yours. And yet, in that moment, you hated him more than you'd ever hated anyone else. Maki's lips curved into a smug smile as she leaned against the bar, her fingers playing with the rim of her glass and her eyes fixed on you, waiting for your next move.
"I've disappointed you, I know…"
Choso sobbed, his voice cracking, his body shaking. "But I'm yours. Only yours. Do what you want with me. Enslave me. Humiliate me. I never want to see another woman again. Only you. Only your orders. Please…"
He leaned forward, his hands outstretched toward you. One hand remained on the ground, his nails digging into the carpet, as if he wanted to crawl to your feet and kiss them in submission.
Maki burst out laughing, a low, ironic laugh.
"Oh, how touching. Your dog peed outside the potty and now he's whining so he can't be hit."
She pushed herself away from the counter, her heels clicking on the floor as she approached Choso. She moved on to tickle the back of his neck, right where he always wears his collar.
"But you know what, Y/n? He loves being beaten. He likes it when you treat him like shit. That's why he's here with me, right? Honey?"
Choso groaned, his body going stiff as soon as she touched him. But he didn't move.
"No…that's not true. I'm his…"
His voice trailed off in his throat, however, as Maki stood before him, arms crossed.
"Then why did you lick my pussy like a good puppy two hours ago?"
Maki whispered, her lips very close to Choso's ear, but her eyes were locked on yours. "He even asked me to walk him on a leash."
Something inside you broke.
It wasn't just anger. It was something deeper, more visceral. A mixture of disgust, disappointment, and a strange, burning excitement that tightened your stomach. Choso was shaking. He was there, on his knees, humiliated, ready to crawl at your feet, and yet... and yet you couldn't move. You couldn't touch him. You couldn't even scream at him like you wanted to.
Because part of you enjoyed seeing him like this. Part of you wanted to dig your heels into his back, force him to lick your shoes, make him feel the weight of your superiority. But another part of you, the hurt, the betrayed part, wanted nothing to do with it.
"Enough." Your voice came out colder than you expected. It was a curt command, sharp as a blade. "I don't want to see you anymore."
Choso looked up, his eyes wide, his pupils dilated with horror. "W-what?"
"You heard." You turned on your heel, a sudden, decisive movement. "You're free to do whatever you want. With her. With anyone. I don't care anymore."
"NO!" His voice broke into a desperate cry. You felt his hands grip your ankle, his fingers clenching your dress, as if he could hold you back. "Y/n, please! Don't leave me!"
You jerked free, feeling his nails scrape your skin through the fabric. You didn't turn around. You didn't want to see his face anymore. You didn't want to see her, either. You walked purposefully toward the exit, your heart pounding in your chest and your legs trembling under the skirt of your dress.
The air outside was humid, and you felt a bit of relief after the stifling heat of the room. You leaned against the wall, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. Your hands were shaking. You weren't sure if you were more angry with Choso, with Maki, or with yourself for letting all this happen.
You pulled your phone out of your purse, your fingers automatically scrolling across the screen. It was full of messages, notifications...and then, among all the others, a notification from mysweetdaddy.com.
Toji: Tonight, Imperial Hotel. Room 412. I'll be waiting for you.
Your lips tightened. The last time he hadn't paid you. He'd used you, made you come all the way to the parking lot, exposed you, licked you, made you come like a whore, and then... nothing. Not a penny. Just a casual "See you soon" thrown in as he zipped up his pants.
You typed your reply without even thinking.
"No. You didn't pay me last time. I'm not your free whore."
You pressed send. The phone vibrated almost immediately.
"This time you'll get double the pay."
A bitter smile curved your lips. Double that. As if money could erase the fact that he'd treated you like a disposable toy. As if it could make up for the humiliation of being left there, naked and sweaty, while he walked away without even looking at you.
"I don't care. Find someone else."
Toji: "I don't want another girl. I want you."
Your fingers froze on the keyboard. A dark part of you wanted to go. You wanted to feel possessed again, reduced to nothing but a body trembling under his hands.
But then you thought of Choso. His pleading eyes. His hands begging you not to leave.
No. Not this time.
"Fuck you."
You turned off the screen and stuffed your phone into your purse. You ran a hand through your hair, trying to gather your thoughts. The night was still young, but inside you already felt exhausted. As if you'd run an emotional marathon without even moving.
You walked toward the tram stop, hearing your heels click on the pavement, and you knew that every step away from that place was a small victory. Every breath was an attempt to regain control.
But in your head, the voices wouldn't stop screaming.
It's your fault. You should have kept him on a leash at all times.
You should have made him understand who was in charge.
You should have…