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My Human Pet

Chapter Text

Seven knew the world had gone to hell, but still had trouble hiding his dread as the shadowy man lead him further down the stairs. This trip was supposed to be a reward from the agency for his last job, but whatever awaited him at the bottom, he was increasingly sure he wanted none of it. As involved as he was with the underworld, there was still some boundaries he refused to cross, and this place reeked of them.

Sure enough, a wave of horror seized him as he took stock of the high-tech basement. Human slavery. Cells after cells of young women waiting like insects in glass jars to be abused at the leisure of the guests. His feet stopped of their own accord and he looked away, trying to keep his composure as he addressed his guide.

‘’Thanks, but I’m not interested. I’ll go back upstairs.’’

‘’Now, now’’ said the man with a syrupy tone that dripped false concern, ‘’you know what happens if you refuse a gift from the boss, don’t you?’’

For once, Seven had no idea, but he could imagine. It had to be something even more vile than the ‘’prize’’ he had been promised tonight.

‘’Come on, maybe you’ll get a taste for it?’’ continued the man. He was smiling nastily, obviously enjoying his discomfort.

Seven remained silent, pursuing his lips. If he had to be forced to go through with this, maybe he could find some consolation in trying to help whoever he’d pick.

That idea in mind, he ventured forward in the alley, glancing left and right at the poor women. They were all exquisitely beautiful, but broken like dolls, lying helplessly on their cots with glassy eyes. It was worse than cattle resigned to their doom; these girls were stuck in the antechamber of death.

‘’How can anyone…’’ muttered Seven under his breath, completely disgusted.

‘’Need them feisty, I see? I can relate’’ replied the guard, mistaking the intent of his words. Seven refrained the urge to punch him to a pulp. ‘’Lucky for you, there are arrivals fresh from yesterday, right there!’’ He pointed to a cluster of cages at the end of the row. ‘’Haven’t had time to tame them yet. The new ones always believe they can say no, you know?’’ He chuckled darkly, and pushed by a morbid instinct, Seven approached. His eyes widened as soon as he saw the first occupant.

“Elly!..’’ he whispered, taken aback.

Of course, it wasn’t really Elizabeth 3rd , Jumin Han’s beloved cat. It was, however, a striking impersonation of what she’d look like as a human: an albino from head to toe, with a mane of pure white hair, creamy milky skin, long graceful limbs, a small heart-shaped face and more than anything, huge sapphire eyes. It was you.

And just like that, an insane plan bloomed in Seven’s mind.


“Are you willing to become a cat?” the red haired stranger asked as soon as the door of the guest room closed on the leery guard. He seemed impatient, almost delirious, and you eyed him warily.

“Does Master…want me to be a cat…with him?” you replied hesitantly, pointing to the bed. You knew it was a common male fantasy, but the way he said it still struck you as a bit…odd. 

“No, good God, no!” His kind face twisted in an appalled grimace. “Just answer the question, we don’t have much time. Would you be willing to live as a cat if I could get you out of there?”

You ignored the sudden pang of hope in your chest upon hearing those words. Your sisters had warned you against the cruel games the guests could play. The man sounded genuine, but it could all be a trick to better fool you.

“I know I don’t look the part, but I’m a gifted hacker. I can open the door of your cage” the man continued with desperate insistence, adding as if anticipating your protest, “and I know someone powerful enough to protect you from the agency. If you stick with him, you wouldn’t have to worry about them for the rest of your life. But you’d have to become his cat. So would you?”

You nodded slowly, still wary of a trap even as your chest started fluttering with excitement. If all you had to do to escape was to pretend to be a cat, even for the rest of your life—it was a fair trade to get out of there.

“Good, very good” exhaled the man with relief. “Let me explain the plan then…”


Long after you were escorted back into your cell, you found yourself still revising the details of the plan. It was absolutely insane. According to the man – who refused to give you any name except that he was a “Defender of Justice”—the corporate heir of C & R, the famous Jumin Han, was so distraught over the recent disappearance of his cat that he’d be willing to believe anything to have her back – including that she magically turned into a human.

“I know it sounds crazy, but you’re the spitting image of her. You wouldn’t even have to come up with a credible explanation. All you’d have to do is follow Jumin’s lead and agree with anything he comes up with.”

It sounded too good to be true, but the Defender had been adamant. “Jumin’s a great guy, but losing Elly has pushed him over the edge. He’s a mess without her. His company will be bankrupt soon if he doesn’t snap out of it asap. Trust me, he’ll want to believe.”

Between describing the path you’d have to take to get out of this building and giving you a quick summary of Elizabeth 3rd’s characteristics, there however hadn’t been enough time to discuss how you’d pull off being a cat convincingly, exactly, and the question made you sick to your stomach. This whole charade hinged on the success of your first moments with Jumin after all. Should you throw yourself at his feet and beg forgiveness for ‘running away’? Cower in fear of his anger? Cry? What about after? What behaviour would be credible? Should you be able to talk? Use utensils to eat? Groom yourself with your own tongue?

Before you could come up with answers, the lights suddenly went out with a deafening sound, and you knew there was no time left to worry. Just as the Defender had promised, the cell doors swung open and the basement was engulfed in chaos. Adrenaline buzzed under your skin and propelled you on your feet as shouts of anger and surprise mingled together around you. Hesitating for a millisecond, you whispered a quick apology to your sisters before dashing forward. It broke your heart to leave them behind without even a warning, but Defender had been clear about that: you couldn’t risk getting slowed down and caught.

“Trust me, I know how you feel. I’ve been there. But to protect anyone, you need to survive first. Got it?”

So you ran, using the confusion as a shield. Dodging a first guard, you almost tripped on a fellow slave flailing in the opposite direction. Finding back your footing, you lurched towards the stairs, climbing them four by four. Your heart was hammering in your chest. You could see the door!

A second guard slammed into your right side and your cried out as he slapped your face. Stars of pain exploded in front of your eyes, but you refused to give up. Acting on furious instinct, you thrashed around until your landed a vicious kick in his balls. The guard collapsed over you with a curse and you twisted away from under him, scraping your knees on the marble floor as you scrambled back up. Almost blind with fear, you threw everything in your path behind you to slow your pursuers and raced towards the exit, ramming in the double doors with your entire body to force it open.

The chill of the night prickled your skin like a thousand needles, but you were too pumped to notice. The city lights were gleaming like electric angels, beckoning you to freedom as you did your best to follow the Defender’s instructions to Jumin’s building. Screams and threats were getting closer in your back, whipping you to go faster than what your body could endure. You couldn’t get caught now! You were so close! All that was left was to find Jumin Han, findinghimfindinghimfindinghim—

You didn’t see the black Bentley before it was too late. Agony broke your legs as you collapsed on the boulevard, the car’s harsh headlights pointed on you like a prison’s projector. It was over. You had failed. Desperate pleas bubbled out of you as a man got out of the car and bent over your frame.

“Master, I’m so sorry to have run away from you. Please forgive me! I won’t do it again! I promise! Please don’t hurt me, please! I’ll be good! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Your overloaded consciousness refused to cooperate any longer and faded to black. All you had time to register was a deep baritone saying “We found her, Driver Kim.”


You were having a nightmare. Men were reaching for you, trapping you, and now they’d punish you, punish you endlessly for having tried to run—

“Master! I’m so sorry!” you shouted as you woke up with a start. Strong hands pushed your shoulders back on the bed and you struggled to resist until you registered what was being said.

“…Shhh, it’s okay. I forgive you, Elizabeth 3rd. Calm down now, my love.”

All at once, the fight left you and you started sobbing in relief. Elizabeth 3rd. You did it. God knows how, but you had escaped and found Jumin Han.

“Yes, that’s better. You recognized my voice, didn’t you? Good girl.”

Opening your eyes, you looked at him through your tears. His handsome features were clouded with an unhinged aura, just as the Defender had said, but it was the fearsome intensity of his black eyes that truly sent your heart racing with elation.  

He was a man obsessed, seeing only what he wanted to see. You had no doubt anymore the plan would work.

“I found…you…I’m so…lucky…” you hiccuped with utmost sincerity.

“You did. You came back to me. Now I’ll never let us be apart again” he promised almost ominously. Gentle fingers reached down to caress your cheek, following the path of your tears, and you turned your head to nuzzle at his palm.

Your new life was about to begin.

Chapter Text

A dragon.

There was no other way to describe Jumin Han that night – a dragon watching over his most precious treasure, his eyes glowing in the night with the fire of obsession like two smoldering obsidians. You could feel them just outside of your dreams, gazing at you with the constancy of the moon; ever there, even when hidden, and the knowledge of it sent you in a blissful sleep.

An average person wouldn’t have understood how you could find so much peace in Jumin’s unseeing stare, but it was precisely his willful blindness that muted your fears. Your physical appearance, that had been despised as “cursed” by your family and that had excited the libidinous ambitions of the Agency, was now your ticket to safety. Women could be discarded; charity cases abandoned; but as long as you submitted to Jumin’s mania – as long as your embraced Elizabeth 3rd’s identity—you were untouchable in the hold of this corporate leviathan.

There was no way you’d ruin this opportunity by a lack of commitment. When dawn finally pierced through the curtains, you were ready to shine in your new role as a cat.

“Good morning, Master. I’m so happy to open my eyes and see you first” you greeted with a purr. Jumin didn’t react right away, still in the thrall of his contemplative state. Turning your head, you sought out his hand nestled in your hair, and nuzzled it again until he resumed petting you. It was absent-minded, more reflex than will, but he had been pleased by this earlier, you knew. A tremor had traversed him, like a murmur of adoration that would have found his way to his limb rather than his lips. From his perspective, it must have registered as his cat “kissing” him as lovers make up after a fight; the human visual of “Elizabeth” seeking his protection and comfort must have not hurt either. You had to capitalize on that. 

“…Master?” you tried again, more insistently, then frowned when nothing happened. You were sure that Elizabeth wouldn’t have stood being ignored; gathering your courage, you gave his thumb a quick nip, which seemed to do the trick. He blinked in awareness, then smiled fondly.  

“…Forgive me, my princess. I couldn’t close my own eyes at all. I was afraid this would all have been a dream if I did” he replied at last in a velvety, contrite monotone. “But it’s not. You’re truly here” His nails gently scratched under your chin, and you stretched your neck to give him more access.

“I’m truly here, Master. I’ll never leave your side again!” you promised with a little whine, as if you were actually begging a favour out of him – and since you were, the effect was redoubtably convincing.

Against your cheek, you felt his hand tremble again, and this time you didn’t hesitate. I’m a cat, you repeated firmly in your mind before giving his fingers a few licks. Rather than comforting him, it seemed to tickle his inner beast; his pupils dilated in excitation until his whole eyes seemed black, and the sudden swell of possessive energy racking his frame like a barrage about to burst warned you of an imminent overflow.

“My Elizabeth 3rd. My precious darling, you don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that” he whispered in veneration, before his hand slowly splayed in a half circle on your throat and his voice vibrated with the anguish of betrayal. “Why did you leave? I gave you everything. Why?” His grip tightened even as he continued his massage, and you had the disturbing image of a noose stroking your skin up and down instead of his hand.

He’s not even aware he’s doing it, you realized with horrified fascination. Maybe that’s what the Defender truly meant when he said Jumin went over the edge; a hurt running so deep that it wasn’t consciously acknowledged anymore, just acted upon.

“…were you just curious about the outside world?” he continued over you, his question a bitter mixture of resentment it could be the case and desperate longing for it to be the truth. 

Here we go, you thought with trepidation. Follow Jumin’s lead and agree with everything he’ll come up with, had said the Defender.

“Yes, Master. Everything looked so pretty…” you trailed off, waiting for his reaction, but he didn’t look less agitated. There was something you were missing about the confession he wanted to hear, when it suddenly hit you. “It never occurred to me the outside world wasn’t part of your domain, Master! I never was leaving you!”

“Yes…that makes sense” exhaled Jumin with a shaky breath, receding back on his chair while nodding in satisfaction. The terrible pressure of his madness abated just as quickly as it came, and you resisted the urge to rub the creepy sensation off your throat to better focus on him. “You didn’t know better. You see me going out the door everyday, so you just assumed…and then you got kidnapped.” You could see the gears turning in his head as he became certain of it. If Elizabeth was blameless, then some villain had to be responsible instead.

“Yes, Master! I missed you so much! I prayed every night to be able to escape and be reunited with you!” you replied vehemently, waiting for his cue to give the appropriate details about your captivity, but fortunately Jumin didn’t look interested about it—at least not for now.

“My brave kitty” he murmured. “I did, too. And God granted our wish by making you human” he finished, by this point practically exuding ecstatic enlightenment.

“Yes!..” you agreed, shedding a tear in gratitude to whichever God Jumin thought powerful enough to change cats into people. This was perfect, almost ridiculous in how easy it was. Maybe Jumin would just chalk up your ability to speak, walk, read and use all the conveniences of the modern world to blessed knowledge bestowed by God too.

“Don’t cry, Elizabeth” said Jumin tenderly, wiping the moisture away with the tip of his thumb, “I’ll give you a bath and wash the filth of the outside world now. Soon it’ll all just be a bad memory.”

“Master will wash me?!” you squeaked in alarm as he bent down to help you rise. Although it was embarrassing, the problem wasn’t the nakedness itself—for all you knew Jumin would decide that a collar was all you’d wear from now on, so you had to be prepared for it—but it was too soon for such a close inspection. Jumin knew Elizabeth’s body like the back of his hand, you were sure of it. You needed more time to ingrain yourself in his psyche to avoid all risk that a discrepancy like a mole or a scar would cast doubt of you truly being Elizabeth 3rd.

“Yes. Every inch of you” he stated, his voice equal parts devoted love and ironclad authority, and you knew there was no way out. The real Elizabeth would have been thrilled at the idea of being groomed from head to toe by her master’s hands, and so you had to be too.

“Yes, Master” you replied obediently, crushing all thoughts of self-consciousness away. It would be fine. Whatever happened, you had to trust that Jumin would imagine an explanation for it. “Please make sure the only touch I remember is yours” you added with as much swoon as you could muster.

“Of course, I intend to. Can you stand?” inquired Jumin softly, lifting you carefully on the plush carpet. Even as he said it, you knew what the right answer was. He relished the idea of you being unable to move without his assistance.

“It’s difficult without Master’s help” you replied in a needy voice, clutching his neck tighter for support. It wasn’t a lie. You didn’t get a good look at your legs yet, but you wouldn’t have been surprised to see a mass of purplish bruises. That hit from the Bentley would take a few weeks at least to disappear.

“It’s okay, just rely on me completely…” instructed Jumin, encouraging you to lean all your weight on his chest like a stringless puppet. “…That’s it, just like that. Good girl” he praised, obviously pleased with your cooperation. His voice was directly in your ear and your heart started to drum a furious staccato as his fingers followed the trail of the zipper of your mini-dress, searching for the slider to peel the dirty garment off you. “Now let’s get you out of that offensive rag—”

There wasn’t enough time for the fabric to fall. A terrible pounding shattered the moment, followed by desperate shouts:

“Mr. Han, open the door! This is an emergency! We’re under attack!

Chapter Text

Attack. You repressed a shiver. You didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out who the assailants were and what they were after. Your pursuers must have seen you be picked up by Jumin and followed you here—and now they were wrecking havoc on the physical and virtual security system to locate you. No one escaped from the Agency, certainly not a slave girl who could identify the faces of their important guests…unless they had a protector as powerful as Jumin Han.

And fortunately, you did

“That must be Assistant Kang” muttered Jumin, almost bristling with annoyance. “I’ll be right back. Stay here, Elizabeth. Do you understand me? Don’t move.”  

There was both a threat and a supplication looming in his imperative words, and you nodded quickly in obedience. Jumin hesitated, clearly uneasy at the idea of letting you out of his sight, but finally put you back on the bed and strode away.

“Master!” you called just as he was about to exit the room. He froze, turning his head over his shoulder to look at you in puzzlement, and you made a show of mewling in distress. “I’m afraid it might be my kidnapper. Don’t let him find me.”

Jumin’s eyes blackened and an eerie smile tugged at the corners of his lips. I just tickled his inner beast again, you realized belatedly.  Just as before, the air pulsated with his possessiveness like a heart about to burst, and the words tumbling out of his mouth resounded like an omen:

“Don’t worry, Elizabeth. No one will ever lay eyes on you again but me, I promise.”

The door locked behind him with an ominous click. It sent a chill down your spine.


“You better have a good reason to make such a ruckus at my door when Elizabeth 3rd needs my attention” Jumin said without any other form of introduction. His tone was harsh and clipped, at the antipode of the loving timbre he just used with you. 

“Elizabeth 3rd..? You mean you found her? Mr. Han! This is wonderful!” gushed Jaehee, elated beyond measure. Now that the cat was back, Mr. Han would finally come back to his senses and resume his duties, starting with this very crisis. “I’m so very sorry to disturb your reunion with her, but we have a situation…”

Jumin barely listened as she went on and on about the recent damage inflicted by an unknown group of thugs and hackers. Honestly, sometimes he wondered if his employees were teasing him to require his input on the simplest matters. It was all due to their emotional natures, he supposed; if they could all just act rationally, as he did, he wouldn’t have to work as much. 

His thoughts turned back on Elizabeth. Her curiosity about the outside world had been an emotional flaw too, but perhaps in her case it was for the best. Since she was human now, a whole new level of pampering was now possible. He’d have to ask Assistant Kang to make a list of every womanly luxury available in this world and handpick the most suited for her. Clothes, perfumes, jewels, beauty products… He’d show her this time there wasn’t anything the outside world could offer that he couldn’t. Not that he’d ever let her set foot outside the penthouse again, obviously, but he took pride in providing completely for his princess.

For the moment, he was happy that she seemed to have learned her lesson. Her new clinginess pleased him immensely; he had always regretted how standoffish or indifferent she could appear sometimes before, even if that gave her a regal charm; her present obedience and enthusiastic answer to him was much better. He would have wonderful evenings from now on relaxing with her; he repressed a shiver of excitation at the thought of slowly massaging moisturizing cream into her skin while drinking some wine. She’d be sprawled on the sofa, her exquisite body clad in nothing but a nightdress of sheer silk, shyly extending her foot to his ministrations— 

“…and that pretty much sums it up. What should we do, Mr. Han?”

“Put Eunbi’s team on the damage done to our flag store and call Seongjae to handle the insurance details. Also ask our social media team to publish a statement concerning the disturbance and write me a report about the possible perpetrators” he replied with weariness. “I shall handle the matter myself afterwards.”

If there was even a fraction of a chance this was related to Elizabeth 3rd, he had to make sure to eliminate the threat. She had looked so terrified when he had left her…he felt protective enough to kill. 

“Yes, Mr. Han” replied his grateful assistant, taking notes at the speed of light. This was amazing. Relief couldn’t even begin to describe her sentiment at seeing Mr. Han fully recovered. “What about our security system? And can I do anything else to help you? Maybe a gift for Elizabeth 3rd?”

“Contact Luciel. I want the expert on this right away. And that’s an excellent suggestion, Assistant Kang. Send a selection of dresses in size S, shoes in size 6 and a full set of matching accessories to my penthouse before tonight.”

“…For Elizabeth 3rd, Mr. Han?” repeated Jaehee hesitantly, praying she had heard wrong. Her face had drained of all color again.

“Of course for Elizabeth. Do you think me unfaithful?” he spat, thoroughly offended.

“Of course not, Mr. Han. My sincerest apologies. Women dresses and shoes and accessories for your cat, I understand” she agreed with a frown. “If I may be so bold to add, perhaps Elizabeth would love to come down with you and pick them up herself?..”

“No need. Elizabeth won’t ever set foot outside our home again.” The dreamy look on his face combined to the cold tone of his voice filled Jaehee with gut-wrenching dread. She had to make sure of her suspicions before assuming any further.

It didn’t look like she’d be able to take a break soon.


Ding dong.

Seven lifted his eyes up from his screen to check the CCTV monitor. Jaehee was standing nervously at the door of his bunker, obviously in a hurry but unwilling to sing Hakuna Matata to enter. Shame. He would have loved to have a video of her doing that. It would have done splendid memes.

“Come in, Jaehee!” he spoke in the intercom, deciding to take pity on her soul. He had a good idea of what brought her in his lair, and to be frank he didn’t want to draw her suffering longer than his. Better to get this over with. 

“Luciel” said Jaehee very stiffly upon entering his messy room, navigating her way between piles of dirty clothes and empty bottles of Dr. Pepper. “Mr. Han would like to hire your computing talents to investigate a security breach.”

“I figured” replied Seven nonchalantly, not pointing she could have easily done so over the phone if that was the only thing she had to do and instead offering her a plate of Honey Buddha chips. “Hungry?”

“To be frank, I’m about to vomit” answered Jaehee, unable to maintain her stoic front any longer. “The situation at work is extremely difficult and I don’t know how to say this but…I think…I think…Mr. Han may be holding a young woman captive and forcing her to act as his cat” she spouted in a rush, embarrassed to voice her fear out loud. This was crazy.

“Reallyyyy~” chanted Seven. “Well, now we know he’s not a robot, I suppose? Maybe we should congratulate him on finally finding a way to marry Elly~”

“This is no laughing matter!” chided Jaehee in a furious whisper, her face now fully mirroring her anguish. “If I’m right and word of this gets out, C & R will be ruined!”

“So what do you want me to do?” His voice had flattened along with his stare, making Jaehee squirm in her chair. Luciel had always been weird, but dealing with his more serious side was even more uncomfortable. It was like talking to a whole different person.

“I want…I want you to check the video feeds and see if there’s any proof of it on tape. If there is, I want you to erase them.” Jaehee didn’t dare look at him in the eye. It mortified her to ask him to do dirty work, but she didn’t know where else to turn to. She couldn’t trust any of the company’s employees with this.

“And then?”

“What do you mean, ‘and then’?” shouted Jaehee, her head snapping up. “Of course we have to get the girl out of there!”

“Do we now?” asked Seven, turning back to his screen and faking to start checking the feeds. He had worked his magic hours ago; the girl had disappeared from the cameras as soon as she appeared on it. “Don’t think I’m cold now, Jaehee, but am I right to guess Jumin is doing tremendously better since the last time you saw him?”

“He is, but that’s hardly the point—”

“—would it be right to say his thousands of employees would be at risk of losing their jobs if he was to lose his mind?”

“It would, but again, that’s hardly the point—”

“—would you really peg Jumin as the type to mistake Elly with a girl that would be unwilling to impersonate her? He strikes you as a rapist on top of being delusional?”

“That’s enough! Of course I don’t think that!” exploded Jaehee, putting an end to his nagging. “But Luciel, the real Elizabeth is still out there! She’s bound to be found sooner or later, and then that girl will become an even bigger problem!”

“She won’t.” 

“Of course she will” snorted Jaehee indignantly. She had assisted Mr. Han and Mr. Chairman too long not to be well versed in the shenanigans ambitious women were capable of. “I don’t even want to think about the blackmail that she’ll—”

“No, Jaehee. Elizabeth. She won’t be found.”

There was a pause then, followed by a brief “oh” of sad understanding. Jumin needed Elizabeth not to lose his mind. With the certitude of her death, the only thing that could prevent this outcome was…well, another Elizabeth. Jaehee’s shoulders slumped in defeat as the pieces fell into place.

“I suppose I don’t want to know how you’re so sure of her…permanent disappearance?”

“You don’t.” In fact, Seven wished he had never found out himself. He was only grateful that he had been able to wipe the Web clean of the crush film before Jumin became aware of it; it’d have driven him to suicide. The current arrangement was better for everyone. “Just as you don’t want to know how I can be sure that girl is happier being where she is” he concluded while swinging his chair back to her, signaling his refusal to pursue the topic further. “Here, all done. There’s not a trace left of her in the feeds and Driver Kim is loyal. Nobody will know. Go in peace.”

“Is that really our only option? I mean I… I understand but I just…can’t help thinking it’s wrong.” She was wrinkling her nose in doubt, and Seven resisted the temptation to make a joke about it. The time wasn’t appropriate…but then, would it ever be again?

“Life isn’t fair, Jaehee. Perhaps it’s best you start thinking less in terms of right and wrong and more about what benefits the most people. And at the moment, that’s Jumin believing his cat is back.” He gave her an awkward pat on the head, and proof of her disarray, Jaehee didn’t scold him for it.


Peace. The word had the sweet flavor of foreign candy on your tongue. It was addictive, you decided, and well worth its price.

Jumin had come back just long enough to apologize for leaving you so soon and request—order—  you to chase all thoughts that weren’t of him from your head before he came back, and now you were alone. The respite wasn’t unwelcome; you needed some time away from his obsessed gaze to gather yourself.

A deep feeling of contentment settled over you as you studied your surroundings. You were obviously in Elizabeth 3rd‘s room. Pictures of her were covering the walls. Cat toys and accessories were neatly arranged all around the bed and you spotted a few items that matched the Defender’s description of Elly’s favourites. You’d have to make sure that Jumin caught you using those.

Jumin Han. Your thoughts turned back fully to your savior as you replayed the sequence of events so far in your mind. He was every bit as handsome and refined as the rumours made him, but you finally understood why the Defender had been very careful not to touch you directly that night, preferring to instruct you to mess your own hair and clothes to fool the guard that some groping had occurred. I better face the Agency’s wrath than Jumin’s should he discover I ever laid my hands on you, he had said. At the moment, you thought he was exaggerating; the Agency’s punishments were notoriously cruel and vicious, and it was difficult to imagine how some well-bred businessman could do worse.

Now, you weren’t so sure. Jumin wasn’t merely obsessed with his cat. His madness was in a category of its own, in the dark and murky depths of human nature where love sours into psychopathy. You had seen his eyes flicker to your wrists before he went; you could just sense he had considered chaining you to the bed. The fact you had promised not to move wasn’t enough; that he had locked you into the room wasn’t enough; that security guards were outside his penthouse wasn’t enough; his was an abyss of control that would never be filled. It was probably your legs that had convinced him not to restrain you further this time; he was no doubt hoping they’d never heal. Else, he’d have been showing more concern about them.

You closed your eyes in acceptance. Jumin’s crazier side wasn’t what had frightened you earlier. It was the natural evolution of events that did. At some point Jumin would realize a human body presented a major advantage over a cat’s in terms of ownership: sex. He’d try something else first, maybe tattoos or GPS chips, but ultimately… He’d start imagining staining your thighs with his essence, or pleasuring you until you lost all sense of self but your need of him; and the reassurance he’d feel at those fantasies would finish twisting his mind.

It’s fine, you repeated mentally. You were already committed to being his cat; was there really a difference in being his pet lover? He’d never see you as who you were, but then there was no life outside of his arms either. The minute you were out, the Agency would crush you under its heel.

Besides, the process could take years. You had ample time to practice falling in love with him, starting with the very thing he asked you – to think of him, and only him.

Chapter Text

The womb.

It was said nobody remembers how it feels; but gently cradled by strong arms and surrounded by comforting warmth, you thought this might be close. There was the sound of a sturdy heartbeat against your ear, in sync with a regular swaying like a boat at sea, and it took you some time to realize it was Jumin carrying you to another room.

My protector, you thought drowsily, unwilling to wake up fully just yet. It had been such a long time that you hadn’t woken in a panic upon sensing someone approach; it spoke levels of the trust you had in Jumin already, and you wanted to enjoy the moment just a while longer. He was being so careful not to disturb you, and you could hear a faint humming reverberating in his chest. Most likely, he had been pleased upon finding you exactly where he left you, and you resolved to be particularly obedient on that issue.

Still, that meant you hadn’t attended to your basic needs in almost a day, and your stomach and bladder couldn’t be ignored much longer. It was time to use some of your privileges as a pet and whine like a spoiled child until Jumin saw to it.

“I’m hungry, Master” you cried with a yawn while rubbing your eyes with your fists as cats do. “You were gone too long. Feed me now” you pouted, squirming a little bit to better accentuate your displeasure.

“Of course, precious, right after your bath” replied Jumin over you, his fingers curving to scratch your nape soothingly. “I’m so sorry for my delay. I ordered your favourite, smoked salmon blini canapés with horseradish, caviar and caper cream cheese on top. Would you like that?”

Is a cat supposed to eat something that sounds so expensive? you wondered while nodding, but the question flew from your mind the second Jumin pushed the bathroom’s door open with the tip of his foot. You didn’t know what you expected—what does the bathroom of the mega rich and famous look like, exactly?—but this was just…obscene. A grand marble counter was snaking along the left wall, while the right featured a spacious mural shower encased in glass and an immense Jacuzzi that had more in common with a greco roman bath than a modern tub. It was a luxurious mix of classic and contemporary that suited Jumin’s conservative style perfectly while still showing off his wealth, and that was easily worth thrice his assistant’s annual salary.

“I’m glad your tastes are the same” answered Jumin with a smile, oblivious to your awe. “It should arrive soon. In the meantime, let’s get you out of that—” he started, before being interrupted by the doorbell. “That must be your food. Wait here, Elizabeth” he instructed, giving you a quick kiss on top of your head before lowering you on the plush bath mat and leaving to answer the chef.

You didn’t waste one second. After quickly relieving yourself, you scanned the room for anything that you could use. There had to be an item in the million lining the shelves to help you cover your body while Jumin washed it to his heart’s content – something that would prevent his eyes from seeing too clearly while seeming inconspicuous— gotcha, you thought while spotting a bubble bath bottle. Dumping its entire content in the Jacuzzi, you filled it up in a hurry while fighting the back zipper of your dress.

You just had the time to shed it off and slip inside the water when Jumin came back with the tray of blinis. His tired expression melted into one of pure fondness upon discovering you ensconced in a gigantic cloud of bubbles and playing with a lone one as a kitten would try to paw a butterfly. In his mind’s eye, that was probably a perfect tableau; Elizabeth having fun in his belongings while waiting to be pampered.

“Why didn’t you wait for me as I told you? I’d have fixed the bath. You could have burnt yourself” he chided gently, more concerned than annoyed at your disobedience. “Come now. I’ll feed you a bit before washing you” he ordered, kneeling at the side of the bath.

Docilely, you stopped splashing around and went to him, opening your mouth like a child that would wait for a biscuit. Jumin put one of the canapés in, and your taste buds exploded with joy.

Oh my god that’s divine, you thought in earnest, closing your eyes to better savour it. Maybe it was merely because it’s been so long that you hadn’t eaten anything that wasn’t disgusting slop, but it melted like a piece of heaven on your tongue; no matter what happened, you knew you’d remember that blini as the taste of gourmet cooking.

Opening back your eyes, you met Jumin’s hand mid-way to gobble the second, the third and the fourth one, no longer concerned with appearances. This was good, and your starved tummy was screaming for it. Bits of the fluffy cream mousse were trickling on Jumin’s fingers in your rush to eat faster, and you just opened your mouth wider to take them in with the food and suck the excess off. Jumin wasn’t saying a word anyway, his eyes transfixed on you as you licked each of his digits clean, and it took you some time to realize his stare was growing…hard.

Crap was your first reaction, freezing like a deer in headlights. Maybe such rapacious behaviour was unbecoming of Elizabeth? Maybe you just ruined you cover and he was about to explode in anger—

“Don’t stop, Elizabeth” encouraged Jumin with a ragged breath. “I’ll give you as many as you want. I’ll provide everything you want. Greed is such a beautiful expression on you” he murmured in a lower, taut voice.

He’s struggling to keep his self-control, you understood warily. You could see it now in the rigidity of his frame, how every muscle was straining to constrain whichever primal instinct was fighting to get out. There was something in the vision of your mouth licking everything out of his hand that had stirred an unspeakable desire, something even his inner beast couldn’t acknowledge—at least not yet, and you knew just which one.

Total ownership. So much that the owned one experienced ecstasy to be cared for—a state of dependence even more complete than a baby’s. Jumin didn’t only want to see you satisfied being owned by him – he wanted to see you seek it with fervor. The quasi-sexual devotion with which you just licked his hand must have achieved the highest rating in his mind—except that Elly was still firmly registered as his cat, despite the new human form, sending contradictory messages of sex and Elizabeth in the same sentence to his urges and brains. The conflict was right there in his eyes; this raging desire to see more of your orgasmic delight without having to humanize you for it.

“Didn’t Master want to wash me first?” you distracted, hoping to redirect his attention. There would be a time for that, but not yet; you had to delay this update in his thought process as much as you could. Sure enough, Jumin blinked as if coming out of a trance and rolled his sleeves, fully back into responsible pet owner mode. 

“You’re right, my love” he agreed. “We should do this in the proper order. Give me your hand first” he instructed, grabbing a silky sponge and a Paris brand liquid soap.

You tried to detach yourself as Jumin began to meticulously scrub every inch of your body, ordering you to turn this way or bend what limb now and then. It was easier than you’d have thought: he had immersed himself in the task, going in a soothing pattern of wash-rinse-massage, and only peppering the moment with one-sided concerned comments such as “your nails are chipped” or “so many split ends” that foreshadowed a long list of beauty treatments he was planning for you. More than anything, you could feel the love he poured in every gesture, as if he was a supplicant kneeling in reverence to his goddess rather than a man grooming his cat; it lulled you in a sedate state, lazily purring your assent to whatever he came up with.

It became harder once Jumin was done with your head and arms and started paying attention to your upper torso. The warm water barely covered the tip of your breasts, and it wasn’t long before the movement of his sponge constantly going up and down to rinse your shoulders created waves that allowed the cool air to tease them into buds. Without being stimulating, it made them quite sensitive, and you couldn’t prevent a little sigh of pleasure when his right wrist brushed against one.

“Elizabeth?.. What is it?” inquired Jumin, and you shook your head in denial. The relaxed atmosphere was treacherous; you had to control yourself better than that. Jumin resumed his actions, but much more slowly, his curious eyes now riveted on your face; when your teeth timidly bit your lips to prevent another sigh from escaping, he didn’t miss it.

“This?” he inquired, stopping the sponge just on the right spot, and your breath hitched. “Yes, that must be it. Do you have new sensitive spots, Elizabeth?” he asked, genuinely intrigued. “You always preferred your head and back, but maybe now, with your transformation…” he trailed off, his voice pensive. You could almost see the gears in mind turning as a solution to his earlier problem rose; petting Elizabeth in her new sensitive spots would achieve the same result as sex without having to think of it as sex. All at once, the manic energy in the air rose, and you knew there was no way that he wouldn’t want to verify if his theory was correct immediately.

“Come closer and let me see, Elizabeth” he ordered, turning you around so that he was embracing you from behind and pushing the excess bubbles away to reveal your full bosom. You could feel his stare zeroing on your puckered nipples with the heat of two sunrays at noon and did your best to steel your nerves for what was coming; you had to at least hide the extent to which this was affecting you so he didn’t get any further ideas—

His thumbs grazed over them, and you barely stifled a moan. The direct contact of his fingers was so much more arousing than the diffuse sensation offered by the sponge, and your head lolled back on his shoulder when he flicked them up and down.

“Yes, that’s it” declared Jumin, his voice gaining the excitement of a hunter on the prowl, triumph lacing his every word. His hands snaked under your arms to gently take both breasts in his palms, and this time you couldn’t stop moaning in earnest when he experimentally pinched one.

“You really liked that, didn’t you?” murmured Jumin against your ear. “Let me see all your expressions, Elizabeth. Don’t hold anything back.”

“Master, don’t!..” was all you managed before he started rubbing, pressing and caressing in every variation he could think of, trying to see which moves elicited the best reaction out of you and repeating them in a merciless cycle. Your breath grew more and more erratic as the jolts of pleasure started to coil in your navel. This had to stop soon or you’d lose your mind. Just hold on a bit longer, you implored your body; soon Jumin would tire of it, put you to bed and leave an entire day to go to work, giving you ample time to exhaust yourself before he decided to experiment again. Just a few moments more–

Ah!..” you gasped helplessly when he rolled the tips between his fingertips, digging your nails into his upper arms. It was just as well that the bubbles covered you, or he would have seen you writhe in need. “Master!..” you repeated, by this point not even sure what you were asking. Continue? Stop? 

“I’m here, Elizabeth. Tell me what you want. I’ll give it to you” he whispered in a hoarse voice, and you were lost. Turning your head, you gave his cheek a barely coordinated lick that could have meant anything. You were his anyway. You couldn’t decide anymore.

Apparently, Jumin interpreted it as “give me more right now” for he abruptly took you out of the bath and carried you over to his bed. The soft mattress barely registered under you as desire and alarm fought for control of your mind, and you attempted a last-ditch effort to delay the inevitable by curling over yourself. Your body craved for release, but that meant Jumin would see all, every naked inch of you—

“Why would you hide from me?” growled Jumin over you domineeringly, only softening his voice with benevolent patience as he figured what the problem could be. “Don’t be shy, Elizabeth. You’re beautiful. You’re perfect. And these…” he pointed the scrapes at your knees, “…and this” he continued, trailing his fingers on the slightly swollen side of your face where the guard had slapped you, “I promise you I’ll find the perpetrator and punish him” he swore darkly. There was something cold and vicious in his eyes, almost bestial, and a perverse pool of warmth soaked your insides at the thought. The way he said punishment suggested a long-drawn death where dying would be heaven after the hell he would inflict. You shouldn’t have been turned on by the idea of Jumin torturing your tormenters on your behalf, but you were.

My protector. My owner and vengeful god, you thought in a haze. If you’re willing to go that far already, let me give you what you want, then.

“Pet me more, Master” you implored while uncoiling your body to his scorching gaze. “Make me feel good” you mewled, looking at him through half-lidded eyes.

You might as well have lighted a match in a tank of gasoline. Jumin’s entire frame shook, the mental control caging his madness cracking under the provocation. He scrambled to lie besides you like a man possessed, his blackened eyes locked on your own as he reached for your breasts again. This time, you didn’t hold anything back.

“Master!..” you moaned blissfully. He was a fast learner, alternating between his nails, fingertips and palms to exert various kind of pressures, massaging your breasts until it seemed they had been created just for his hands. Your nipples soon were hard enough to hurt, sending waves of unfulfilled pleasure through the rest of your body at every brush of his thumbs, and you started to whine in frustration.

“What is it? Tell me how I can satisfy you” inquired Jumin, drinking on your needy expression, his deep voice sending chills down your spine. Either he was being a tease, or he didn’t have a clue; in both cases unless you begged him outright, it looked like he would be content to watch you dance at the edge of your release all through the night.

“Please, Master!..” you finally surrendered as he continued his ministrations, rubbing your thighs together in a mute supplication. His glinting eyes darted to your lower regions, unsure, and you nodded, too busy panting to form a coherent response. “You should have told me sooner, princess. I won’t have my lady wait” he apologized. The flat of his right hand slid down your stomach to stop right over your patch, and your body went wild, pressing your core against his palm in a desperate attempt to put pressure at the right place.

“Here?” inquired Jumin again, his fingers grazing against your slit, drawing the lewdest moan out of you. “Yes, that must be it. You make the most beautiful sounds, Elizabeth” he complimented in his velvety monotone. His middle finger parted your folds and gently pressed against your clit, making you cry out in joy. So close…

“Go on, my love” pressed Jumin, eager to see you shatter, and you lost it. Bucking your hips in abandon, you rubbed yourself on his obliging hand until the pleasure carried you away in a white hot wave of mindless bliss.

Jumin didn’t miss a second of it. His eyes were just outside of the haze, observing you with the satisfaction of a jailer who just found new chains. The word “Master” had never rung so true.

Chapter Text

It was the scent of waffles that woke you up. It smelled of sugar and domesticity, and you smiled in satisfaction upon remembering the night’s events. It seemed allowing Jumin to make you come under his hand was the right thing to do; he had been so pleased by the results that you doubted his mind had registered any discrepancy between Elizabeth’s body and yours, and this compromise of “petting” instead of “sex” put you in a nice limbo of not-quite-humanness in his eyes, which suited you just fine.

Honestly, you had been surprised at how structured his mania revealed itself to be. You had expected him to try to finger you, or at least find him hard against your ass when he spooned behind you before sleep, but that wasn’t the case. He had kept strictly to the stimulation of your external organs; as close, you figured, to what he considered appropriate in the care of his pet. The excitation he experimented to see you so aroused was sorely centered on his need to control you and provide for your happiness.

It was liberating, in a way; there was no fear of Jumin applying a moral judgement to your behavior and label it as promiscuous, or pressuring you into more because he was frustrated. You were his cat, no more no less; it was normal to pet you so soon, and by the time he’d grow to want you more than that, you were quite sure you’d be delighted to oblige.

It wasn’t just about him being your salvation from the Agency. There was just something…attractive about him, beyond the handsome corporate titan varnish and despite the warped possessive psychosis; something that spoke of a tortured man that could only be relieved of his pain by being with you, and only you. The way his arms had closed around you before sleep, offering warmth, comfort, protection at the same time as jealously caging you against him, it screamed mine at the same time as love me; it made you want to reciprocate and soothe him every way you could. In a better world, you could have been helped him in a healthier way; as it was, that way was to keep him gratefully insane.  

By being his human pet—Elizabeth 3rd.

“Master? Where are you?” you called, eager to see him. It would have been easier to just stand up and explore the penthouse, even if that would have hurt your legs, but you knew Jumin preferred the idea of you barely mobile.

“I’m coming, princess” came the reply somewhere two rooms farther, and you quickly arranged yourself in a more cat-like position. It wouldn’t do to neglect the details, no matter how serviceable Jumin’s mania was to explain everything.

“Here we go, belgian waffles, whipped cream and strawberries for my love” announced Jumin, a fond smile gracing his robotic features upon seeing you faithfully waiting for him on the bed. “Come closer and open your mouth, Elizabeth” he instructed, sitting himself at the edge of the mattress and taking a pre-cut piece in his hand.

Looks like I won’t ever hold a fork again, you thought in amazement, your heart moved by this unexpected cuteness. Jumin had obviously liked the experience of feeding you too much to consider you could or would even want to learn how to use utensils. That was fine; it’d be a good activity to reinforce your bond with him. On purpose, you ate a bit messily, letting the whipped cream smear around lips and doing a poor job at licking yourself clean.

“Here, I’ll help you” offered Jumin, pulling the folded handkerchief out of his suit pocket to wipe your mouth delicately. When the process repeated three times though, he arched an eyebrow. “Are you doing this on purpose?” he chided, amused.

“Maybe I just like having Master’s hands on me” you replied naughtily, deliberately putting more cream on your chin. His eyes blackened and he put the tray down, gently taking your face between his hands. His left thumb extended to wipe the cream off and redirect it to your mouth, and you obediently took your time sucking it off.

“You are a very spoiled kitty” he replied, his voice lower and brimming with adoration. “I wish I could stay here with you all day and spoil you even more.”

“You’re not?” you pouted, genuinely disappointed.

“I have to take immediate measures for your safety, he replied contritely, his expression an irritated mix of anger at whoever would dare to threaten you and remorse even such an important topic should take him away from you. “If you’re bored, why don’t you take a look at the dresses and accessories I bought for you?”

“I prefer to parade for Master tonight” you replied on a hunch, and congratulated yourself upon seeing his pleased nod of approval. There was something about the implied fact that you trusted him to know best about what looked good on you, or simply that you had no inclination to do even something as mundane as clothing yourself without him that obviously hit the mark.

“Yes, that’s a good idea” replied Jumin, caressing your cheek one last time before standing up. “It shouldn’t be too long. I only need to check the results of the investigation of the attack yesterday and I’ll come back.”

“Master, about that–” you started, intent on telling him about the others girls still trapped in that basement. That was a riskier move, but if Jumin was to go after the Agency anyway, you owed it to them to try to get them out as soon as possible.

“Shhh. I told you I’d take care of everything, didn’t I?” reminded Jumin, gently but firmly pressing a finger against your lips. “Forget about your time outside and only think of me from now on.”

“Yes, Master” you replied docilely, turning your face to nuzzle at his palm in appeasement. He wasn’t upset, but the warning was clear at the same time; the outside world was a forbidden topic. You’d have to find another way to let him know. “Please hurry? I’ll miss you all day” you mewled in distraction, rolling on your back to give a full view of what would be waiting for him in bed.

“My precious darling” he murmured, his eyes drinking on your shameless display. “Tonight I’ll learn you again thoroughly until I master all your new spots, so look forward to it” he promised, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.


Jumin’s eyebrows wrinkled in aggravation the moment he stepped out the door. Leaving Elizabeth behind displeased him greatly; he’d have to figure out how to conduct business from home soon. Of course, he’d equip their home with cameras so he could watch her on his phone, but that wasn’t the same as sharing her beautiful presence. She was luminous, his own personal star; just looking in her eyes made the shadows clouding his mind dissipate. He wouldn’t be at peace until he could extend his hand and make her shine just for him at any given moment.

That started with security. Calling the elevator, he fished his cellphone out of his pocket to read the report Luciel had e-mailed him. By the time he reached the floor to his office, his frown had deepened into a scowl, terrorizing the staff into scurrying out of his way.

The situation was much more serious than he had anticipated. It appeared that the attack had been coordinated by an organized underground group rather than a random gang of punks as he first expected. Luciel noted that they appeared to be looking for something, and his heart constricted in his chest as he thought of Elizabeth. If she was to be taken from him again—

No, he wouldn’t think this way. It wouldn’t happen, because he wouldn’t let it happen. Elizabeth was safe with him, and would only experience happiness from now on, as she was meant to. Fearing otherwise was just a waste of energy that he should use getting rid of the menace instead.

Assistant Kang, send a team to equip my whole penthouse with CCTV immediately and find Elizabeth a suitable GPS collar before tonight, he texted quickly, then consulted his list of phone contacts. The veterinarian could be persuaded to lend the material to microchip her, and the military could provide him a sample of their prototype ear implant that allowed two-ways communication on great distance. It sickened him to think of marring Elizabeth’s perfect skin with technological devices, but there was no choice; merely teaching her how to use a regular cellphone wouldn’t be enough. He was past being precautious; he had to be proactive.

That lead him to the matter of discipline. As enjoyable as the previous night’s events had been, it had also opened his eyes on the necessity of implementing a strict regimen to ensure Elizabeth only thought of him. He hadn’t liked how she had broken eye contact for a second at the end; who knew what…who… she had thought about then? It’s not like he didn’t trust her, not really; he was confident that she had finally understood the full value of his love over any other distraction, but… well, it was safer not to lower his guard. Perhaps it was a trivial detail, but evil had to be rooted out at its core; he’d have to make her practice not looking away until she succeeded at least three times in a row.

A pleased smile graced his lips at the prospect. Yes, that was a good plan. All that was left was to crush all the threats until they’d rather eat their own innards than touch Elizabeth again.


You fell back on the bed and waited for Jumin’s footsteps to decrease, then disappear, then an additional twenty minutes in case he came back for something, before getting up to observe your surroundings. As the only room bearing Jumin’s direct mark and not just commissioned to an interior designer, you intended to take the entire day studying it. Jumin hadn’t locked the door, but you weren’t about to ruin his goodwill by straying from where he trusted you to stay. There was also the chance that the penthouse would be the entire extent of your universe from now on, so truly there was no need to rush its discovery.

Besides, I bet there’s not much to learn from it except his love for Elizabeth and pinstripes, you thought with a giggle while checking his clothes drawers. It was quite ridiculous, to be honest; the motif was everywhere from his socks to his pajamas—although perhaps the knowledge that he did wear pajamas to bed usually rather than his suit like last night was worth it. You couldn’t have imagined him owning anything to relax in otherwise; in fact you couldn’t imagine him relax, period, other than some mild glass of wine. His need to control everything just made him too stiff to be able to let go; it’d be a wonder if you ever got him to cum without it being a conscious decision on his part.

I shouldn’t be thinking about that, you chastised yourself while moving on to the mahogany desk. There was an expensive golden pen with an incrusted diamond that seemed to hold some kind of sentimental value, judging from its careful display amongst the lesser pens; maybe a gift from his father then. A diary was open in the middle, and you curiously flipped a few pages. Jumin’s handwriting was incredibly elegant, as expected, but the content was positively anal; it was mostly a detailed list, down to the minute, of every annoyance or business related thought he had experienced through the day. 08:55; It’s very disappointing that the new necktie pin slipped down after 23 minutes of wear. 10:02; the client from Japan was 2 minutes late. 13:30; Assistant Kang should get a new haircut in the next 3 days or I’ll tell her. At least you learned that he started his days around 6:30, was currently focusing on his shoulders during his workout and read a self-help book dubiously called “Expert Playboy”—you’d look for a copy later to see what kind of advice they provided.

More interestingly, there were some glimpses about his social life; two men named Zen and Yoosung, respectively, though Jumin seemed to find the first one pathetic and the second one deserving of his bad grades. Maybe they were part of some elite club? It was worth investigating, and you sought more clues, turning your attention to the only picture frame that wasn’t of Elizabeth on the wall.

It was a group shot, but you barely noticed the others as your blood ran cold upon spotting the teal haired man. You could never have forgotten his face. He was the reason you ended up at the Agency after all – the man who had argued tooth and nail that you were unfit for heaven.

The memory still burned, even if you knew you were better to forget about it. Contrary to most of the girls who got dragged in the underworld, you hadn’t just foolishly moved to the city with vague dreams of a better life. A man had witnessed your predicament in your village and told you about a secret organization dedicated to fight human misery; he had insisted they would accept you into their fold should you follow him. But the teal haired man had said no until he convinced the others, not even giving you a chance to meet their leader; with nowhere else to turn to, you had ended up at the bus terminal and was then targeted by a recruiter, promising food and shelter in exchange for “easy work”. By the time you realized the trap, it was already too late.

But now I’m here, you reminded yourself. It had despaired you then, being told you were unfit for paradise, like if somehow you deserved all the hate from your village, deserved to be sold as a slave, deserved to suffer. Now…now it didn’t matter. Perhaps you were unfit for heaven, but you were chosen by Jumin; you had gotten the better deal in the end. The teal haired man would understand that if he ever messed with you again, you thought in delight, imagining Jumin’s wrath if the man tried to send you away.

Friend of Jumin or not, his influence would be for naught. You were invincible. You were Elizabeth 3rd.


Jaehee, r u ok? Zen just posted a selfie and you didn’t say anything;;;

Lolol Yoosung, she doesn’t have to every time. Although… It’s true you’ve been quiet lately. Everything ok?

Jaehee looked at her cellphone screen guiltily, the weight of the last 24 hours crushing her. Despite what Luciel had said, she couldn’t keep worrying about the situation. There were just too many ways it could (would, her panicked mind rectified) end badly – catastrophe, apocalypse level badly, and it had haunted her all through the night. Shouldn’t she at least tryto do something to prevent it? Was it really okay just to keep quiet in the name of the greater good?

Still, it wasn’t appropriate of her to worry the rest of the R.F.A. members with what was essentially a private problem, especially Zen who had a big role coming, and so she stuck to a vague answer.

I’m fine, thank you for worrying. I’m only concerned about Mr. Han.

I knew it had something to do with that damn trustfundkid! replied Zen immediately, no doubt punching the letters in irritation. I don’t’ care what his problem is this time.He said his furball was back, so no more pity points. It’s time he gives you a break!

I don’t understand, typed Yoosung more prudently, his puzzled emoji filling the chatroom. Isn’t he feeling better now? Didn’t he come back to work?

I bet he decided to take a vacation to celebrate it, wrote Zen. That asshole. Doesn’t he realize he has actual humans to care for?

“If you knew” murmured Jaehee in desolation, feeling the temptation to share her torment creeping in. It’s not like she expected a solution, but to have her dread validated—to know it wasn’t all in her head—would be such a comfort. Maybe, just maybe, she could share a half-truth…

It’s not that. Mr. Han is back to work and very efficient at it. I’m just…worried he’s mistaking another cat for Elizabeth.

There. That resumed the crux of the problem without exposing its gravity.

Wait, what? What do you mean? It’s not her? Can’t he recognize his own pet anymore?? Do we need to call a psychiatrist?!?

I didn’t see her so I can’t confirm… I just fear for later, replied Jaehee honestly, reassured by Zen’s indignation. That was the normal, healthy reaction to have. That’s what she should be feeling right now, instead of being swayed like a coward by Luciel’s twisted logic. She should be looking for a doctor, making arrangements—

I don’t know…replied Yoosung after a beat, renewing the doubt in her heart. Hasn’t she been missing for a few weeks already? I mean…I’m not saying it’s right, but…if that’s the case…I think I understand Jumin. I have no proof of Rika’s death myself…so if I met somebody who could pass as her…

He didn’t complete the thought, but he didn’t have to. Wouldn’t he be happy? Wouldn’t he want the rest of the world to just let him be happy about it?

What?!? Yoosung, you’re crazy. Don’t listen to him, Jaehee. I think you should call V right away!

“Of course!” whispered Jaehee out loud, relief flooding her veins to lightheadedness as she rushed to compose the number. V was Mr. Han’s best friend. He’d know what would be best to do.

Chapter Text

Jumin Han would be the death of you.

Or more accurately, he’d be the death of your lower regions. It’d be glorious, sensual and orgasmic, but it’d be death all the same. If he insisted to make you come one more time under his fingers—

“Again, Elizabeth” came his velvety command, and you almost cried out in protest. You physically just couldn’t take any more stimulation, but Jumin seemed oblivious to your exhaustion. “You have to learn not to break eye contact” he continued implacably, his hand sliding down your thigh to resume petting you.

“Please, Master, I need to rest!” you implored, shaking all over. It didn’t even feel like you had a body anymore, just a billion nerve endings firing pleasure at his merest touch. Just how many times had it been tonight? Five? Six? How much more could you take before losing your mind?

“I know you can do it” encouraged Jumin patiently, like a teacher scolding a difficult child. His middle finger gently parted your folds to caress your clit and inner lips in lazy circles, and your treacherous hips automatically responded by bucking into his hand. “There, what did I tell you? You’re so good at this” he praised adoringly. “So beautiful…and sensitive…” he added, rolling your left nipple as one would twirl a rose’s stem.

Ah!..Master, plea—aah!” you moaned helplessly as another finger found its way near your core. Jumin had been at this for days—feeding you, bathing you, training you—and by now knew all the sweet spots to keep you going, willing or not. He wouldn’t relent until you fainted or passed his absurd test, not matter if it took your sanity.

Ahh!…yes!” you panted in anticipation as he extended his fingers to let the cool air hit your sex. It was glistening obscenely with the proof of your arousal, trickling out of your channel like clear candy syrup. Jumin would dab at like it was a honey pot, a little tap tap tap motion that’d send sharp jolts of ecstasy in your navel, to better coat your clit in a protective layer before touching it much more aggressively—

“Master! More!” you cried, wriggling shamelessly in his lap. His rubbing was the sweetest torture, just the right amount of speed and pressure, and you could feel the tingling starting anew, spiralling in a giant coil of heat that kept tightening, clenching your muscles all the way up to your eyes—

“Elizabeth, you must look at me” warned Jumin, abruptly taking his hand away before you could reach your peak. “Only at me, you understand?”

“I’m-m try-ying, Master” you hiccupped, frustration lumping in your throat as your forced you lids open to stare in his black orbs. “I-I want s-so much to be g-good for you—ahhh! Yesss!” you panted in joy as he resumed his attentions, meaning it from the bottom of your heart. Night and day you forced you brain to constantly think of Jumin as want, need, love, to the point of altering its chemistry; there was an ever increasing high, between relief and euphoria, in being able to please him. The happier Jumin got, the safer you felt, and right now he would be so happy if you were a good kitty, so happy —

“And you are. Don’t worry, my love. Even if you fail again, I won’t lose faith in you” reassured Jumin, his benevolent words driving you close to tears. It wouldn’t be so unfair to hear him talk of failure if only he let you help at this; but the moment Jumin had seen your hands creep over your own breasts, he had loosened his tie and tied your wrists with it over your head, chiding you about not completely relying on him as you should. You had to come by his hand, at his will, at the pace he decided to set; anything else had to be begged and accounted for.

“Anything you want is yours, my love. Just be mine” he insisted while pressing a knuckle against your entrance, and you whined in defeat as your body started thrumming again. What you wanted didn’t matter; what he wanted was to mold your pleasure to his control, and Jumin, you understood now, always got what he wanted. If his control could be his cock, he’d have you fuck yourself over it in all the holes it could fit; the image made your pelvic muscles spasm in unabashed greed. How wonderful it would be to feel his hands in your hair to guide your mouth to it, or his palms cupping your ass as he would coax you into impaling yourself on it—

Ahh!..Master, I’m…yours! All yours!..ahhh!… Please… More… Fingers!” you screamed incoherently before spreading your thighs as wide as you could, past caring how lewd you appeared. You were so hot and wet that his fingers would have sunk into your depths like flesh into quicksand, if only he would touch you there. God, you wished he would so badly. Your head rolled towards his chest as your mouth opened by itself, tongue flicking forward in a mute supplication to be filled with him too. Sanity be damned; giving Jumin what he wanted was all that mattered.

“Good girl” he purred, cradling you closer like a baby. His left fist gave one last squeeze to your breasts before firmly tugging over your bound wrists to warn you against any mutinous idea you could have, then curled around your head to dangle over your mouth like he was offering a bunch of fresh grapes. Closing your lips around the tips, you eagerly started sucking the proffered digits as you maintained eye contact, expressing with your tongue the words you couldn’t say.

“Elizabeth…” murmured Jumin hoarsely, not even blinking as he drank on the vision of you mimicking the act of love-making to his fingers, those of his right hand matching the pace you set over your clit. Your mind was full of this vision of taking him in you, how deliciously stretched you’d be, how owned you’d feel as he would cum deep inside—

The orgasm slammed into you with brutal intensity, mercilessly making you shake all over as your universe shrank to the two pools of madness that were Jumin’s eyes. They were anchoring you, watching you, adoring you; you were dimly aware of your voice calling for him like a drowning man prays for air as you weathered the onslaught, but even the sound faded until it was nothing more than cords vibrating in your throat. There were only his eyes and pleasure, blissful, heavenly

“Perfect, Elizabeth” came Jumin’s proud velvety voice a few moments after, soft and ethereal like in a dream. He was caressing your hair, a supremely contended expression on his face. “That was perfect.”

“It was? So you’re happy, Master?” you asked as soon as your breathing stabilized, shy and uncertain. That was the most important; you had to hear him say so, or you’d doubt, even when he called it perfect twice. 

“I am happy. You make me so happy, Elizabeth” he confirmed in his deep baritone, almost making you weep in relief. “But I know that look you gave me in the end. You wanted something, didn’t you? Tell me. Whatever it is, I’ll give it to you, my love.”

Isn’t it obvious it’s you?! you wanted to yell, but refrained. Jumin wasn’t yet ready to understand why his delicate cat would fantasize about something as violent and inappropriate as being rammed by his dick. God forbids, there was a real risk that he became jealous of himself if he figured out you had been distracted from him by him. What would his hypothetical self be doing, or giving, that he couldn’t replicate or provide in reality?

“Elizabeth? You can be greedy. Tell me what you want” repeated Jumin, frowning almost imperceptibly when you failed to answer. He’s anxious, you realized in amazement. That man had you bound, monitored, incapacitated, collared, microchipped, spoiled senseless and begging wantonly in his lap, and still was anxious about what to do to keep you by his side. “Is it your necklace? I’m sorry this one is so plain” he guessed, tracing the fine band of red crocodile leather up to the GPS unit. Like a miser clutching a gold coin, he loved to touch it to reassure himself again and again of your traceability. “I’ll have one studded with diamonds delivered tomorrow, if you’d like” he added, the faintest trace of agitation in his voice at your prolonged silence.

I want your friend’s head on a platter, you thought spontaneously upon remembering the teal haired man on the picture. I want you to ruin his life as he ruined mine. I want you to force him to choose between hell or living as someone’s dog, you raged further inside. Would you give that to me if I asked you, Master?!

Well, perhaps that was a bit unfair. You were living literally in the lap of luxury now, eating cupcakes wrapped in edible gold and exfoliating your skin with a diamond powder scrub; and beyond these walls you could never cross again, in this outside world you were forbidden to think or talk about, you were sure Jumin was doing everything to crush your enemies and protect this cozy world where just him and you existed. If that wasn’t enough, you suspected as his fidgeting grew, there was now also the potential for a dizzying amount of power you could wield through his compulsive need to see you satisfied.

Isn’t it said that Jumin Han never backs out of a deal he made? you mused speculatively, remembering the short clips you read in women’s magazine before your capture. It was part of his corporate persona to honour his promises; he had given his word to give you what you wanted, and he wouldn’t go back on it. There wasn’t much yet you could request as a cat that would make sense to him except baubles, but perhaps…

“I was thinking that I wanted more of Master inside me” you mewled, the darkest inspiration taking shape in your mind. “I was thinking about how happy I’d be if Master was to feed me with his body.”

“Feed you…?” he repeated, puzzled. You extended your bound arms, and he obediently helped you up his chest until you were able to loop them around his neck and rest your head on his shoulder.

“Master’s milk” you whispered to his ear, nibbling and sucking on the lobe as you poured the sinful words down his canal. “I want to drink it and feel it slide into me” you added, licking his jawbone and nipping at the length of his throat. That was probably the only physical advantage you had over him as a cat, this habit they had of marking their territory with any kind of rubbing, scratching and biting available, and you took full advantage of it.

“Elizabeth, please understand, that wouldn’t be—” he started regretfully, but you didn’t let him finish. You already knew he’d think of it as amoral; that was the whole point of the request, to see if you could use his devotion as leverage against his own mind. The trick was to bypass it the same way he had accepted petting you; by making it look not like sex. A small shiver went through his frame as you dug your fingers into his scalp and started kneading the thicker skin of his nape down his spine while leaving hickeys in the hollow of his collarbone, lapping lovingly at the abused spots.

“Master could play with himself and let me drink it from a bowl” you pointed as your pressed your bare breasts against his torso, “or let me clean him afterwards” you suggested, smacking your lips against his ear for emphasis, “or even cover me with it and let me clean myself”, you proposed, ending your trail of kisses by head butting him gently and staring into his eyes. They were black as sin now, so full and dark as to devour you whole, and you wanted to fall into their depths. “Or did Master lie when said I could have anything?” you stressed naughtily, half-dare and half-pout, anticipation drumming in your blood.  There was only half a chance this would work, but…

Jumin hissed, a slow intake of breath like he had just been burned, and you repressed a shout of elated triumph upon feeling him growing stiff against your thigh. You had done it, proven it, sealed it; to indulge your whims, Jumin could be bent against his own instinct. Like it or not, he was aroused by the idea; and now that lust was supported by his own promise, it was rapidly taking over any conflicting emotion he could have. Kitty was about to be fed.

“Get down, Elizabeth” he commanded, his voice almost unrecognizable, and you didn’t have to be told twice. Quickly untangling yourself, you threw a pillow on the floor at his feet, then slid down like a snake until your face was level with his crotch and forced his legs apart to give you space as you fumbled with his belt. It was near impossible to undo with your bound hands, and you whined, a long, frustrated yowl that would have put to shame a real cat starved for its meal. 

“You’re so eager for it” he admired, a crazed glint entering his eyes as he kept watching you fighting his pants. “Do you really want it this much?”

“I do, Master. I want to feel your love inside me. Feed me!” you mewled, rubbing your face shamelessly against his bulge. It was there, straining the fabric as if trying to get to you, and you couldn’t wait. It’d just be a few gulps, but it felt like you’d be claiming part of his soul instead, and the thought made your insides quiver in desire.  

“Don’t worry, Elizabeth. I’ll see you satisfied” Jumin promised hoarsely upon seeing the feverish look on your face, pushing your head aside to do it himself. 

“Faster, Master!” you pleaded, sinking your nails in his thighs, eliciting another hiss from him. His hands were shaking with small tremors, as if he couldn’t believe what he was about to do, and you encouraged him by mewling keen needy noises of impatience.

“You sound so…indecent… Just open your mouth and wait” he instructed with some difficulty, and you did as you were told, your cherry lips forming a perfect ‘O’ of obedience. There was the clink of the buckle, the metallic grate of the zipper, and then—

Good gracious, you thought upon seeing his erected length spring free. He was well-endowed, but no more than you expected him to; what surprised you was how angry and painful it looked. If Jumin had always only loved his cat with no regard to any woman, then it was entirely possible he had neglected his cock for years; judging from the uncomfortable expression of his face and his irregular breathing, he was paying the price now. That thing begged to be engulfed in the snug confines of your mouth and sucked dry lovingly, immediately

Patience, you reminded yourself as Jumin started to slowly pump himself. As wonderful as it would have been just to dive in, and no matter how much he obviously needed it, Jumin wouldn’t appreciate if you robbed him of his control by overwhelming him in sensations. He looked barely able to cope as it was, his eyes fixed on your waiting mouth, hovering so close that a simple jerk from his hips would have brought him in you.

“…za…beth…” he panted, jacking himself more and more furiously. What he was fantasizing about was written as plain as day on his face; he wanted to close the distance. No woman in the world could compare to the vision of his human pet’s lips stretched around his shaft; no blowjob could better feed his fire than the thought of her sucking in pure gluttony and mewling in delight as he’d shoot his load directly in her throat. Precum started to leak and you locked eyes with him, tentatively extending your tongue and waiting to see if he’d stop you; but Jumin just watched you inch closer and closer, his breathing becoming more and more ragged as you advanced, until—

Elizabeth!” he shouted in a hollow voice, his whole body lurching forward as you delicately prodded at the tip. “Eliza—ah!” he groaned, unable to complete his sentence as you started licking, rapid little flicks as if you were drinking from a fountain.

“It’s good, Master. I love it. Give me more” you purred, planting an amorous kiss on the head, lingering just enough for the faintest suction—

Don’thnnf! Elizabeth!“ he barely managed to say before his cock twitched in warning and exploded all over your parted lips. Ecstasy whitened your vision as saltiness filled your mouth, his cum dripping all over your chin down his fist, and you started licking in earnest. He tasted like pure victory, and you wanted every drop of it. Jumin’s frame was racked with shivers, his body slackening after the force of his release, and you hungrily took over. Pushing his hand away momentously, you replaced it with your bound wrists, cradling his shaft as you started cleaning him thoroughly.  

“Elizabeth…” panted Jumin, watching as you licked yourself enthusiastically next, using his softening length to push the cum back into your mouth, smearing half of it on your flushed cheeks as you went. “Here’s…more…if you want” he managed, extending his soiled hand, a dazed look in his eyes as you almost leaped at it.

“It’s so good, Master” you panted as you finished sucking it all away, keeping licking as if you couldn’t get enough of the flavour. “I feel it…going down in me…it makes me feel so good! …Ah! …Master’s love…in me…” you repeated, rubbing your thighs as if it could literally go all the way down through you and come out from your sex. Your pushed your hands between them and started rubbing yourself on his tie bounding your hands, getting hot again as you imagined him wearing it at work.

“Elizabeth” warned Jumin sternly, all his previous exhaustion forgotten. “What did I say about relying on me? Come here” he ordered, tugging himself quickly back in his pants before helping you back up on his lap, making you lie down and spread your legs to inspect your core, the hand you just cleaned finding its way back between your folds. “You are so wet again. Such a spoiled kitty” he murmured adoringly. “And here you were so desperate for a break earlier” he teased, enjoying how your hips bucked against his hand. “Is my love that nutritious?”

“Yes, Master” you panted, “it’s the best…ah!…milk in the whole world…ah! Ahhh yes! Master, don’t stop! Yesss!” you shouted as Jumin worked his magic, making you see stars. Still, there was a part of you that felt unsatisfied. “I want more milk” you begged, eyes shining at the prospect. This rush of power you felt when his load hit your palate…you craved it; wanted it until Jumin himself would seek it.

“Not tonight. You need to rest, my love. Calm yourself now” he soothed, rearranging your bodies on the sofa so that you were both reclining on it. He poured himself a glass of wine and started absentmindedly caressing your hair as you curled yourself between his legs and purred against his stomach. He was right; you were exhausted, and so was he. That was enough for one night, and besides, you’d get more soon. Maybe it wouldn’t even be too long before you could freely access this as often as he petted you; maybe you could even convince him to combine both.

Yes. This arrangement was perfect. Nothing could prevent life from getting even better from now on.

An odd cellphone ring brutally shattered the illusion, and you were annoyed to see that Jumin took it. Usually he refused to answer his calls if he were with you; that meant it was someone important at the end of the line—in other words, a threat.

“V?…Is everything okay?…What? Jaehee? What did she…? Yes, of course Elizabeth is fine.” There where a pause in which Jumin’s bright mood quickly deteriorated. “No, I don’t think it’s necessary for you to see her…Yes, I know you’re the one who gave it to me…Fine, then, I suppose. You can come and have dinner with us tomorrow” he concluded reluctantly, irritation plain in his face as he hung up. “Elizabeth, we’ll have company. I trust you’ll be on your best behaviour and not embarrass me, right?” he asked, his face now totally clouded as he stopped his caresses. There was a threat looming somewhere in there, stemming from the rational part of him that knew you weren’t a cat, deep, deep, very deeply down.

“Of course, Master. I’ll be the best cat for you” you answered dutifully, sighing in relief as his hand resumed its patting.

Well, that was going to be…interesting.

Chapter Text

“Let me take one last look…yes, you’re perfect. Perfect” repeated Jumin, critically assessing the results of his efforts. He’d been circling around you for three hours, ordering you to try at least a hundred different dresses, shoes and accessories, considering the hairdo and make-up that would accentuate your beauty best. “Maybe just a bit more gloss. Here…” he commented, guiding your chin up to dab the applicator over your lips before taking a step back and considering you pensively. “Yes, that’s it. A light trim would suit you better, but that will do for now. What do you think, Elizabeth?”

“I only care that Master finds me pretty” you answered dutifully, and Jumin nodded in satisfaction. Of course that should be her only concern, was saying his pleased smile; your appreciation for your own beauty could only come from his eyes after all, and there was no need to impress anyone but him. That he had basically dolled you up to show you off to his friend was an entirely different matter, apparently.

To be honest, you didn’t mind the contradiction that much. It had been fun to have Jumin fuss over your appearance like an eccentric stylist; there was even a part of you that thought he might have missed his calling. You were naturally pretty, but Jumin had done better than a fairy godmother; now you were just…magnificent. The creature staring back at you in the mirror was a vision of refinement, conservatism and taste; no one could have argued that you were fit to be seen by Jumin’s side.

Maybe that’s how he imagines his wife, you mused, blushing despite yourself. You had no fear of being discarded for a woman and entertained no ambition to be recognized as more than a pet, but the idea still sent your heart aflutter. A sane Jumin would probably be the type of man to treat his spouse like a queen and make love to her every night, peppering her body with as many kisses as the number of minutes they were apart that day. It was nice to dream about, if nothing else.

Get a grip, girl. If Jumin Han was sane, he’d never consider a stray like you. You’d be hearing about how he got married to a rich heiress trained in the arts of tea brewing and flower arrangement while you got abused to death in that Agency hellhole. Just be grateful for what you have, you reminded yourself, lightly touching your hidden collar. That was proof enough that Jumin was committed to you, better than any wedding ring. 

“Elizabeth? You’re making that cute face again. Tell me what you want so I can give it to you” ordered Jumin, ever so prompt to detect that you were yearning for something.

“I just wish we had the night to ourselves, Master” you replied truthfully, dispelling your musings. Jumin was already irked by the upcoming visit; now was definitely not the time to be anything less than 100% fanatic Elizabeth 3rd.

“Don’t worry, my love. I’ll still have time to pet you tonight” promised Jumin, giving you a peck on top of your head in consolation, before his voice dropped an octave. “Already eager for it, I see” he remarked, staring at your stiffening nipples visible through the silk of the dress. He sounded smug, almost arrogant that your body would respond so quickly to the mere suggestion of time with him.

“It’s because Master trained me so well” you replied with some difficulty, his prolonged stare arousing you further. It made you feel naughty to be unable to control it, but there was no point in trying to deny it either; you were developing a Pavlov reflex when it came to Jumin’s attentions. It was a result of his meticulous nature always doing things in a certain order; any mention of petting triggered an anticipatory response from your lower regions now. “But I-I’ll do my best to control myself tonight and not embarrass you!” you swore, remembering how terrifying he had been on that topic.

No!” reprimanded Jumin, his harsh tone throwing you for a loop. “…That’s not embarrassing to me” he corrected more calmly while caressing your cheek, “not as long as you look at me alone. He’ll see then I’m taking good care of you. You understand, Elizabeth? You belong to me” he stressed, his eyes glowing with the fires of possessiveness. There was something utterly unhinged in his expression, and the pieces suddenly aligned in your mind with an almost audible click.

That’s what he means by “being on my best behavior”, you realized.  Your performance as a cat was secondary—what truly mattered was your performance as his property. This V person had expressed concerns about the quality of Jumin’s ownership, after all; but obviously Jumin held him in too high esteem to simply shut him down for the offense. The whole reason for tonight’s dinner was to obliterate any idea V could entertain about claiming “Elizabeth” back in the most civilized way possible, much like you could rob a man of his savings by showing a royal flush in your hand rather than a gun.

At least now I know what I need to do, you reflected in relief. You could have played the night by ear, but knowing all Jumin truly expected of you was to keep your entire attention on him like if his friend was a piece of furniture made it considerably easier. It’d pretty much be like all the others nights, except you were decked in brand clothing and had to ignore the audience.

“Yes, Master” you replied, nuzzling and kissing his hand in submission. “Then no else will ever need to see me again but you, right?” you prodded, smiling beatifically at him. Jumin had always been adamant about that, and you were glad you were finally able to return the feeling with sincerity, past the basic consideration for your safety. It was impossible to tell with certitude, granted that the situation would never happen, but you thought you wouldn’t want to leave him now, even if you could.

I wonder if you could call it love? you wondered, then shook your head mentally. Not love; not yet, anyway. But it wasn’t something as trite as gratitude either. It was more like… a sense of belonging. Whatever drove you there, Jumin made you feel like your place was in his arms, his heart, his bed; his happiness was yours.

“That’s right” answered Jumin, basking in your adoring expression. “I’m so glad you seem to share my vision for our future now” he whispered, almost shivering in excitation. “In fact I—” he began, when there was a knock on the door. Jumin straightened immediately, his expression melting into the impassible mask he kept for the outside world; he looked more about to preside over an important negotiation meeting rather than a friendly dinner.  “Ready, Elizabeth?”

“I’m always ready for you, Master” you murmured to his ear as he lifted you in his arms, enjoying the way they tightened around you in response as he crossed the hallway to the dining room. The chef had delivered the menu earlier, leaving Jumin free to rearrange the setting to his leisure; you’d be sitting besides Jumin on a poufy stool at the far end, while the men would enjoy modern armchairs. V himself would be seated on the other side of the table; you couldn’t tell if it was out of respect, etiquette or a subconscious intimidation tactic, but you were glad for the distance. He’d be easier to forget this way; maybe you’d even be able to imagine he was in fact that television Jumin never turned on.

“Stay here, Elizabeth” instructed Jumin before strolling to the door. There was the clink of the lock and the creak of the hinges, and then there was nothing but the sound of your blood rushing to your head as the mysterious V stepped in. 

Teal hair. Teal hair you’d have recognized anywhere.

It was a testament to Jumin’s training that your own mind auto-disciplined itself to stifle your outrage immediately and redirect your thoughts on him, and him alone, as they exchanged hugs and greetings. There is nothing to worry about, you reminded yourself; that the teal haired man turned out to be Jumin’s most esteemed friend instead of a lesser member of his social circle wouldn’t improve his chances of influencing him by even half a percent, even if he recognized you and babbled about meeting you before. Jumin was just too invested in you to be sensible to any kind of persuasion. On top of that, you considered upon noting the dark glasses and cane, that possibility was already slim, if non-existent.

As if on cue, V spoke, bringing you back to the moment:

“Why don’t you introduce me to the lovely company, Jumin? And where is Elizabeth 3rd? I can’t wait to see her!”

“How rude of you” replied Jumin with a light tsk, crossing his arms. “Did your sight deteriorate again? This is Elizabeth 3rd.”

There was a beat of silence; to V’s credit, he didn’t flinch, nor ask Jumin if he was kidding. He didn’t even fake to misunderstand and try to address you directly. Either he had had been expecting this and knew better than appealing to you, or he was simply used to deal with unstable people, for his voice stayed very calm.

“Are you telling me Elizabeth 3rd became human, Jumin..?”

“Isn’t that obvious? Are you saying I’m wrong?” he retorted in irritation. His tone was part annoyance to have to defend your identity to his most trusted friend and part disappointment that V would even challenge the notion in the first place, and you smiled inwardly as a vein started to throb on his temple. He was getting agitated fast, and dinner hadn’t even started.

“I’m not saying you’re wrong” replied V carefully, placing his hands on Jumin’s shoulders in a placating manner. “I’m just saying that to me, she appears as a regular human. Why don’t we sit down so you tell me about that?”

“Alright, then” agreed Jumin, mildly appeased by the offer. He pulled up V’s chair, and you obediently fulfilled your role by ignoring him as he sat down, fixing your whole attention on Jumin instead as he took his place besides you. “…Perhaps I shouldn’t be so surprised to be the only one able to recognize her” he began, covering you with an affectionate gaze. “It proves that I’m her rightful owner, doesn’t it, Elizabeth?” he asked, scratching you under your chin, and you loudly purred your assent while slowly blinking as a real cat would do.

“Perhaps” conceded V prudently. You could feel his eyes roaming over your features, no doubt trying to judge if you were acting out of your own will. “So how did it happen? You must have a theory, I imagine” he added, almost conversationally. You could hear him move the cutlery and serving himself some soup, doing his best to give the impression of nonchalance, as if he was inquiring about Jumin’s predictions about the stock exchange instead of his mental health.

“Not so much a theory as a fact. You must know already about the tales of the Swan Maiden or the Crane Wife? There are countless more telling about instances of animals shapeshifting into humans” explained Jumin patiently while pouring some fresh water in your crystal bowl and bringing it at your face level for you to lap. “I don’t see why it couldn’t happen to Elizabeth 3rd. I donated a substantial amount of money to the Church after her disappearance, after all” he pointed out.

That actually makes sense, you admired silently as you concentrated on your lapping, or at least it makes plenty of Jumin’s sense. In his world, everything could be bought, even miracles; and could it even be called this way when there were a dozen indexed cases?  

“Except they’re legends, Jumin” stressed V, still all manners and politeness, though his gaze had left you, most likely in discomfort of seeing you drink like that. If it takes so little to disturb him, you thought while repressing a grin, then he won’t last the dinner. “Unless you tell me you’re now disposed to believe in aliens or anything people can come up with…? Aren’t you more rational than that?”

“If that’s your way to tell me you think I’m crazy, just say so. I appreciate honesty, as you know” replied Jumin curtly, turning back his attention to you. “Elizabeth, pay attention, you’re making a mess again” he chided gently, dabbing the corners of your mouth with a napkin. “Are you hungry? I’ll cut you some steak.”

“I’m not saying you’re crazy” reminded V. You could hear the clink of the wine glass against the bottle. “But you must know what that looks like, don’t you?” he added, an almost inaudible “oh god” on his lips as Jumin put the steak pieces in his palm for you to eat, and you couldn’t help a smirk upon hearing the bottle slam back on the table, as if he was too shocked by the display to properly lift it anymore. It sounded like dear V was reaching his limit of cat show, and Jumin hadn’t even started to pet you yet.

“Alright then” agreed Jumin as before, only this time with much less goodwill. “Let’s go with what it must look like. According to you, this young woman just happens to look like Elizabeth, ran to me by pure coincidence, guessed all Elizabeth’s preferences by sheer dumb luck, and is in fact—” he glanced at you here, carefully cleaning his hand with your tongue “—a scheming temptress which ultimate goal is to live as my pet for the rest of her days, so she can lick blood from steak morsels off my fingers forever” he finished scornfully, drying his hand with another napkin once you were done. “You want me to say that makes more sense? Because it doesn’t.”

“I didn’t say she was, Jumin. Don’t put words in my mouth. But—”

Enough” spat Jumin, throwing the cloth on the table, by now thoroughly agitated. “Did you know that since Elizabeth came back, a shady organization has been harassing my company night and day? Do you know what the last report from the private inspectors I hired stated? That they busted 56 girls out of a slave ring while investigating the trail. A slave ring! You want me to throw Elizabeth back into that kind of world just because she looks human to you?

He found them. He freed them! you realized with elation. Of course you knew he’d take care of everything as he promised, but—oh, to know, to imagine your sisters’ faces as freedom came for them—your heart leaped out to Jumin once again, and you felt light all at once. You wanted to kiss him and lick him all over, now, immediately, just roll on the carpet and do everything he wished you to do, and just as Jumin asked, didn’t try to hide the fact as you started to pant in desire and reaching for him.

“Oh my God, Jumin, are you saying—”

“No, I’m not done yet” cut Jumin, transferring you on his lap so you were straddling him, gently pushing your head towards the crook of his neck when you started to beg cutely to feel good in his right ear. Taking the cue, you took light bites in his skin to muffle your voice as his hand rounded your ass beneath the table and found its way under your dress to caress you through your panties. “V, you might not have known, but I always thought of Elizabeth as Rika. I thought she understood me as Rika did. But now I realize she’s even better then that. She completes me. She’s here for me” he emphasized, his fingers digging in the silk of your undergarment to better punctuate his emotion, making you moan in pleasure. “Where were you when I was losing my mind over her disappearance?”

“Jumin, for the love of God, what are you doing to her—” began V, his voice now betraying just how utterly horrified he was.

No! Answer me first. You’re always acting suspiciously lately, never giving me clear explanations, just asking me to trust you…Why can’t you trust me on this? What gives you the right to tell me I shouldn’t be happy she’s back?”

I’m in heaven, you thought hazily, a heaven where Jumin is raining fire over my enemies. Even if he wasn’t to do more than rub you through the fabric, you felt you’d be able to come soon just with the sheer joy of him tearing apart that man.

“I admit I wasn’t a very good friend lately and I apologize for that, but Jumin, you’re mixing things up. I’m not saying you don’t have a right to be happy—of course I want you to be happy! But what are you going to do when your father will ask you to marry?”


The conversation dimmed to a blur as shock rendered you motionless, freezing you to the bones. You never considered Jumin would face external pressures concerning his marital status. Hell, even the Defender hadn’t! It was just understood he would remain single with only Elizabeth 3rd as his life companion—if he needed an heir, then he could just…adopt one, or designate one, or anything that would have occurred far from your world.

God, I’m so stupid. Of course Jumin would be asked to marry at some point. He was the heir to a gigantic conglomerate! What would happen then? Would you be sent to a country villa, as a pet mistress visited once a week? No. That’d leave you too vulnerable. The Agency would find you. They’d kill you.

Worse than that, you wouldn’t see Jumin everyday anymore.

It was the last fact that made you start to shake. You had just begun to taste something akin to happiness—begun to believe in plans for the future—because Jumin was there to make it come true. Perhaps it was selfish of you, but you didn’t want to give it up, even if you were told the Agency was destroyed and you’d live like a queen in a remote palace forever.

Jumin was yours as much as you were his, wasn’t he…?

“Master?” you mewled pathetically, your eyes filling with tears. “Is it true?”

“Shh, no, no, Elizabeth, it’s not” he reassured, but you couldn’t stop shaking. Throwing your arms around his neck, you dug your nails in his shoulders, as if to anchor him to you. “You’ve upset her, V. That’s enough” he declared, hugging you closer to him like if you were a baby. “I appreciate your concern, but I can handle my own father. I trust you’ve been reassured now and won’t bother me with questions regarding her well-being anymore.”

“Jumin, wait, I think I’ve seen her before—” and you snorted, a sniffle that wasn’t quite a sob. What triggered his memory now? You looking in pain because he ruined your world again?

“Of course you did, since it’s Elizabeth 3rd!” roared Jumin. If he wasn’t holding you, you thought he might have punched the table in anger. “I see this is going nowhere. I’ll go put her to bed and come back to escort you to the door” he declared without appeal, getting up immediately.

“Jumin, what’s wrong with her legs? Jumin!”

His voice decreased as Jumin brought you further down the hallway, murmuring sweets words of comfort to your ears, but none of them were registering. You couldn’t even feel joy at the thought he was kicking his friend out so soon after he arrived; there was just numbness.


“Elizabeth?” asked Jumin when he came back, almost timidly, while carefully sliding besides you in the bed. He looked panicked by your lack of expression, unsure how to fix it, and guilt bloomed in your heart. This wasn’t Jumin’s fault. He might be forced to throw you away at some point, but it wouldn’t be because he wanted to. You had to pull yourself together not to add to his misery.

“I wish I could turn back into a cat, Master” you replied at last, giving him a feeble smile. “Everything would be easier this way, wouldn’t it?”

“No, no. Elizabeth, listen to me” murmured Jumin, cupping your face with his hands to force you to look at him. “V doesn’t know what he’s talking about. My father might ask me to consider women to marry, but I’ll always refuse. He can’t force me.”

“But what if he can, Master? No woman will want me around” you despaired, finally dissolving into helpless tears. No matter how you looked at it, being sent away or Jumin bedding another woman, the pain was unbearable.

Elizabeth!” Jumin almost shouted. “Calm yourself. I won’t tolerate that kind of talk any longer, you hear me? I won’t marry another woman!” he insisted, wiping your tears with the tip of his thumbs. “If my father insists, I’ll just cut ties with him and start my own company, alright? So stop worrying. I can’t bear to see you so sad” he added, his voice cracking in the end.

How can such a corporate dragon be so stupidly idealistic?!? you raged inside, almost wanting to slap him. Maybe because love made him insane, or because he never experimented the harshness of being at the bottom of the social ladder—it was pointless anyway. He might be able to pull it off, but it was just as likely that his father would avenge himself by thwarting any effort to get this new business off the ground. Not to mention, he’d be short on money for a while, and that would make you both vulnerable to the Agency.

Still, the sentiment was beautiful, and warmed you up to the tip of your toes, drying your tears away. Just how many times in your life did you hear a man swear he would throw away a billion dollars inheritance just to be with you?

“Tell me how can I make you happy, Master? I want to give you more” you murmured. You didn’t have much to offer, but if there was anything you could do as a human or as cat, you’d be glad to oblige.

“Then just smile for me, my love” murmured Jumin back, pulling you to him. You could hear his heartbeat under his ribcage, feel his hands caressing your back as he peppered your head with small soothing kisses, and your body relaxed despite itself. It was strangely intimate to be facing Jumin like this in bed rather than have him spooning your back.

“Master is mine. Only mine” you whispered at last, licking the triangle of skin where his shirt collar opened like if you were stamping your personal seal on his chest, and were rewarded by a rich chuckle above your head.

“Only yours, my baby lamb” he confirmed. “That makes me think though…there is something I would like you to do from now on.” He sounded just a tad nervous, and your curiosity was instantly piqued. What could make a man who considered collars and microchips fair play balk in hesitation?

“Yes, Master?” you replied eagerly. Whatever it was, you’d do it, no matter how creepy. Anything to see him happy.

“I saw you look through the bay window this morning and to be honest I just…didn’t like it” he admitted reluctantly. “I know it was barely a second, and you didn’t even seem interested, so I’m trying hard to control myself, but…”

“But, Master?” you encouraged. You remembered the moment; you just had wanted to see how high the building was. It must have eaten him all day long, though the fact he held on and was now asking for—what, your approbation, your benediction, your cooperation? — rather than just imposing another restraining measure was an interesting development. He shouldn’t fret so much, you reflected fondly. It was always in your best interest that Jumin didn’t try to control himself.

“…Would you mind waiting for me in a cage when I’m at work?” he requested at last, fidgeting with your hair. “I know I’m being unreasonable, but…” he trailed off regretfully.

But you’ll do it anyway if I say no, you completed for him. He’d feel better about it if you agreed, but he’d do it even if you refused. Your heart sank. A cage. From all the things Jumin could request of you, it had to be a cage. An involuntary shiver raced up your spine as you recalled your horrible cell from the Agency, before you shook your head mentally. That wasn’t the way to go about it. You shouldn’t view Jumin’s cage as a prison. You had to see it as a representation of Jumin’s love. He was literally asking you to go into his love. That was wonderful, wasn’t it?

Besides, you just said you’d do anything to make him happy.

“A cage sounds great, Master” you replied with as much enthusiasm as you could muster, pushing aside anything that wasn’t Jumin from your mind. “And a cellphone to call you whenever the loneliness becomes unbearable too, please?”

“Yes” agreed Jumin with a sigh of relief. “That can be arranged now that I can trust you with one” he added, caressing your face tenderly. “I’m so glad I asked for your opinion, Elizabeth. I thought about equipping the cage with some games but…you’re right. It would be best if you can just focus on me without anything else to distract you, wouldn’t it?” he asked with more assurance, gaining strength from your willing expression.

“Yes, Master. Just thinking about you night and day. That’s all I want” you swore, looking directly in his eyes. They were entirely black now, gleaming with something so perverse and intense as to be described as pure instead of twisted; for a second, you thought he was about to bend down and kiss you.

“You’ll do much more than just think about me at night, my love. Let me get you out of this dress. Didn’t I promise to pet you earlier..?” he recalled huskily, making your body sing in anticipation.

Whatever may come, that, at least, wasn’t about to change. There was nowhere else like Jumin’s arms to drown in pleasure and forget all your worries.


“Jaehee? It’s me, V…Look, you were right. I’m sorry for doubting you…It’s so much worse than I thought but…It’s all my fault. I can’t tell you why, but…It’s my fault. I think….I created this situation, I…Just leave him be. That’s all I can say. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please hate me, not him.”

Jaehee looked at her cellphone in astonishment, playing the message again to be sure she heard right. What V was saying made no sense. What was worse, he was basically saying to leave the situation alone and to blame him for the consequences.

Except that contacting you wasn’t about finding a scapegoat, despaired Jaehee. Who would care if it was V rather than Jumin who was deemed responsible for the collapse of the company? No, this was about preventing the situation, fixing it so it never happened in the first place!  

Looks like I’ll have no choice but to rely on myself, she thought, eyeing her arrangement of her boss’s schedule as if it was a bible ready to reveal its secrets. There was surely something that she could use in there…

“Yes, that sounds right” she mumbled upon spotting the scribbled words Oil Prince 2 weeks Invitation in the column of business proposals to consider. He would give her hell for it, but…

Dear Oil Prince, on behalf of Mr. Han, I’m glad to accept your invitation!…she started to type, then fired away before she could reconsider. Two weeks alone in Saudi Arabia should be enough to wake him up. He’d come back with a clear head.

Chapter Text

“You did what?” hissed Jumin, on the verge of losing his legendary calm. “A two weeks business trip in Saudi Arabia? That’s out of the question. Cancel it, Assistant Kang!”

“Please, Mr. Han, as you know the Oil Prince is a very important business partner, and we can’t delay his appointment any longer now that Elizabeth is bac—”

“Fine! Then find her a passport. I’ll bring her with me” he replied, more and more agitated. Elizabeth had barely recovered from the shock of V’s visit. He hated the thought of getting her out of the penthouse, but he wouldn’t leave her behind for fourteen days. She’d be devastated.

“Mr. Han, please don’t ask the impossible of me. If you’re looking for a caretaker in your absence, I believe Yoosung is looking for a temp jo—”

The slam of his office door in her face was her only answer.


“Elizabeth!” shouted Jumin upon entering the penthouse, waking you up from your slumber in the cage. Was it already evening? No, that wasn’t possible. Your perception of time wasn’t distorted enough yet to blur almost twelve hours in what barely felt like four. Perhaps Jumin already got that promised cellphone and was just excited to give it to you as soon as possible?

“Elizabeth” repeated Jumin as he rushed in the living room, slightly out of breath. His hair was messed up and a bead of sweat was rolling on his forehead, like he just ran the fifty-or-so floors back to you. “Elizabeth, come here” he ordered, unlocking the door and reaching for you. You didn’t even have time to discard the blanket protecting your nakedness before you were lifted up in his arms and thrown over his shoulder like a potato bag.

“Mast–uff!” you protested as he hurried along the hallway, his long legs taking strides worthy of a power walk. Elizabeth 3rd might have been agile enough to adapt to that kind of treatment like a nibble elf in the woods, but you weren’t, and it was making you dizzy. All you could see was the shine of the floor and a blur of color in a shopping bag.

“There, lie down quickly, we don’t have much time” he instructed as he put you down on his bed. “In fact, we don’t have time at all. I’ll help you—lift your arms, please?” he added, his hands already loosening his tie to bind your wrists with it. “Perfect” he mumbled, testing the knot. “Now spread your legs as wide as you can—good girl, yes, just like that” he praised while pushing your thighs apart a bit more, encouraging you to display yourself completely to him.

What’s up with him? you wondered, more amused than puzzled by his strange behaviour. Who knew, maybe Jumin had decided he wanted the pet equivalent of a quickie?

“Maybe I should blindfold you for the rest? You never reacted well to new procedures…But I don’t like not seeing your eyes” he muttered. A deep frown of irritation was marring his face at having to improvise the situation rather than following a thoughtful plan. “I guess it doesn’t matter as long as you can’t resist…Yes, that should do it” he declared after a beat, disappearing into the walk-in closet to emerge less than fifteen seconds later, three more ties in hand.

“Master?” you questioned warily. If he was to dab into bondage, you’d prefer if he had some diagrams with him…unless that’s what was in the bag?

“Don’t worry, Elizabeth” he said soothingly, flashing you a quick smile. “I just want to make sure this all goes as smoothly as possible” he explained cryptically. A first tie was looped around your bound wrists to chain you to the headboard of the bed, and understanding dawned on you as he fussed to do the same thing with your legs and the footboard. He wants me unable to move, you realized with trepidation, not sure if the shiver down your spine was due to excitation or dread. Jumin must have had something quite intense in mind to think he needed you so completely still.

“Elizabeth, your expression is just…no, your whole body is so perfect. You’re like a flower blooming just for me” he commented, his gaze blackening as he drank on the vision of you tied helplessly on the bed, the private pinkness of your core revealed to his hungry eyes. “I should have you waiting for me like this every night…” he murmured, so low you weren’t sure you heard him right, “…but there’s no time to think about it now. Let’s check what the manufacturers offer” he continued in his velvety monotone, tearing his eyes away from you to dump the contents of the shopping bag on his desk.

Oh sweet Lord, you thought upon seeing a dozen sex toys cascade out like so many smarties out of a box. Bullets, beads, vibrators…it looked like Jumin had spared no expense in purchasing the most extensive collection of technological marvels to please the female body. Most likely he had just taken everything off the shelf indiscriminately, leaving the clerks to gossip who was the sultry siren that had lighted such a fire under the ass of the reportedly gay Jumin Han.

“Don’t worry, Elizabeth” repeated Jumin upon hearing you whimper, mistaking your anticipation for fright. “I heard those things can make a woman feel quite good. Since you are one now, there’s a chance that will apply to you too” he continued, picking a random one from the pile. “Let’s see… ‘Lush, a Bluetooth wearable vibrator to let him control your pleasure from his smartphone’…” he read on, “…yes, I think that sounds just about right. Now for the instructions…” he continued, dragging a chair to the edge of the bed as he unfolded the paper. “‘Applying a personal moisturizer is advised to assure your comfort during a prolonged period’. Well then, we’ll start with that. I won’t have you in anything less than bliss” he declared, his expression so serious that you felt the need to reassure him.

“I trust you, Master” you mewled, desire already simmering in your veins. You had no idea what had prompted Jumin to consider toys as a good idea when he was so adamant that all your pleasure should come from him directly, but right at the moment, you couldn’t care less. He’d actually put something inside you, and while that wasn’t as fulfilling an idea as his cock, it still promised to feel wonderful.

“Yes. I’ll take good care of you” swore Jumin, his tension loosening by a fraction as he saw your willing expression. Pouring some lube in his hands, he started massaging every exposed inch of your exhibited parts as if a single dry spot would be fatal; it felt a touch clinical, but the liquid was heating up upon contacting your flesh, and it stirred you while leaving you pleasantly relaxed.

“Is that enough, Elizabeth? Do you feel comfortable?” he inquired, and you nodded, purring in contentment. “Good then, very good. What comes next…” murmured Jumin, flipping through the user guide as he took the toy out to make sense of the directives. It was a bright pink tadpole-shaped droplet with a long thin tail, and its particular use became clear as Jumin flew over the specifics. “…bendable Bluetooth antenna extends beyond the body and increases the range of control…curved to hit the g-spot…powerful vibrations stimulate the entire area…. Just clean, download the app and sync…alright” he finished, discarding the box and booklet before tapping furiously on his screen. “It’s loading now, Elizabeth. I’ll just go sterilize this and I’ll be right back—be a good girl and think of me in the meantime, okay?” he asked, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead before disappearing in the hallway.

How can I think about you more than I already do?  you reflected, then tried to just let your thoughts wander and see where your fantasies led you. It was harder than it appeared—the more Jumin reinforced his control over you, the less place he left to your imagination; it was all a matter of craving what he’d come up with next. Was he going to just insert the toy in you and return to work, happy to see you enjoy it through the video surveillance all day long? Did he want to tape a quick recording to change his ideas after a boring reunion? Or maybe his humanization of you had advanced enough to allow shared pleasures if there was no direct contact between you?

That’d be amazing, you wished dreamily, feeling your insides spasm at the thought of Jumin stroking himself while watching you being mercilessly pleasured by the toy he’d control. A dildo would have been the best choice then, to mirror his movements and heighten your connection with him, but this would still be an awesome start, like giving him his own customized, interactive show. Then one day he wouldn’t be able to take it anymore and just pull the toy out of you to replace it with himself, and you’d scream in delight that he was better than a thousand toys—

“All done” declared Jumin, returning to his place on the chair while coating the cleaned toy in a generous amount of lube. “Are you ready?” he asked, petting your leg in a rapid motion that probably meant to be soothing, but just betrayed his nervousness. He has no idea what he’s doing, you realized with pity; for man like Jumin who liked to master every step of a process, it was probably deeply anguishing. More than that, he was dead afraid of hurting you. Something must really be pressing him for skipping the research phase and directly go to testing.

“Yes, Master” you crooned, still lost in your fantasies. The toy would probably feel intrusive at first because of the lack of foreplay, but become pure heaven the moment Jumin pushed the right button; as long as he didn’t overwhelm you by setting the intensity too high from the start, it was impossible for him to fail at his impromptu task, and you couldn’t wait. “Make me feel good now?” you added wantonly, returning his attention to his initial goal.

“Of course, princess” replied Jumin immediately, fumbling with his phone. There was a beep, then the lightest buzzing sound; and then everything became inconsequent as he slipped the toy inside you.

“Mmnn… aaahhh..!”  you sighed softly in joy as it nestled perfectly in your entrance and started working its magic. The stem curving out to reach your clit was still inactive, but the main egg-shaped part was pulsating with the sweetest fire. Your channel had begged for so many days now to be stimulated, and the slow vibrations were tugging at every frustration you had to bury because of Jumin’s no-fingering policy and knitting them in a blanket of low thrumming pleasure, like basking in the sunlight after a night in the cold.

“Elizabeth?” asked Jumin, unsure how to interpret your actions as you futilely pulled on your bonds, trying to close your legs to take it deeper inside you and heighten the friction. “Do you want me to turn it off?”

“No, Master!..I just want…more…please..!” you panted, your body already craving more than the hot tingle. “…Ahhh! Yes! Yesss!” you moaned as Jumin increased the rhythm on his screen, deeply aware of his eyes studying your reactions. He wasn’t being a voyeur; he seemed to be looking for a particular combination as he played with the settings of progressively more intense waves patterns. “Master! This! This, I love it! Yes!  you cried as he activated the nub resting against your clit, arching your back in a mute supplication. If only it was Jumin topping you, the motion would have brought you to meet his hips and take him all inside you; as it was, it just put you more on display, like you were begging him to extend his hand and fuck you with the toy. The double stimulation was pure bliss, keeping you right at the edge of orgasm, and you writhed on the bed as pleasure made you its slave.

“Yes, you do seem to love it. I’m reassured” commented Jumin, relief plain in his voice as he came to sit besides you on the bed to better observe you getting nearer to your peak. “God, you’re so pretty” he added huskily as he pushed a rebel strand of hair away from your face, taking in your fevered features. The fact he didn’t seem to mind that you had difficulty maintaining eye contact should have clued you something was really wrong. “It makes wish I had time to test them all…maybe when I come back?” he mused out loud.

“Master!” you cried out, his words evoking visions of him teasing you with as many toys as your body could accept, with only your mouth empty to accept his cock instead. Jumin would never get dominating enough to order you to suck him better if you wanted him to push the right button and earn your orgasm, but he would surely enjoy the visual of you trembling from head to toe in ecstasy as you licked him clean. “Master! Please! I want to come!” you begged shamelessly, frustration making you bolder. Why wouldn’t he pinch your nipples or caress your breasts as he usually did? Why was he dragging it so much? He loved to see you shatter more than teasing you; this made no sense. You were so close to climax; spread as you were, there was no hiding, no lessening, no respite from its incoming havoc; there was just the toy as the remote extension of Jumin, coaxing you to become ever more lustful. “Master! I need it! Master!

“I’m here, Elizabeth. I’m still here, my love” he added somewhat bizarrely. “Must I understand the toy alone is not enough? Do you need me?” he asked, a hopeful note in his voice that quickly morphed to pride as you nodded fast enough to break your neck. “Of course you do. Such a good, devoted kitty. My Elizabeth 3rd. How about this?” he whispered. His hand went over the toy and flattened on it, pushing it straight against your g-spot, and you lost it. Ecstasy just tore your throat raw as you fought the bonds tying you to the bed. It was way too intense, frying your nerves to insanity, and yet you wanted more, wanted to reach higher, wanted to lose your senses until all was left was this haze of bliss where Jumin wanted to cage you forever.

“Elizabeth, calm yourself” you heard him say as he stopped the toy and Earth registered once again. “Shh, my love, it’s okay, it’s okay” you heard him say as he took it out before possessively caressing your patch. “You need to rest now. Be a good girl and swallow this, please?” he requested, getting a bottle out his shirt pocket and popping a pill out to press against your eager tongue, his fingers lingering in your mouth until he was sure you had ingested it. It wasn’t the first time he decided you needed a vitamin after the act, and you smiled in fondness. Count on Jumin Han to worry about your daily recommended intake right after mind-shattering sex.

“Are you going back to work?” you whined, still barely able to hold a coherent thought. It would be nice if he could just lie down besides you and whisper words of adoration as you basked in the glow of post-coital peace.

“Yes, I must. Assistant Kang has booked a meeting in Saudi Arabia that I can’t refuse. I won’t stay for the whole two weeks she arranged though. I hope I’ll be back by Friday—no, even Wednesday” he added somewhat mournfully. “If I don’t sleep, that should be possible…”

Wait, what?  you thought in alarm, all vestiges of pleasure brutally pulverized as the meaning of his words registered. He was leaving for a week? Maybe two?

“No, Master, you can’t go” you protested, trying to keep your wits together as panic rose in your breast. The purpose of testing a remotely controlled toy was crystal clear now—to keep you happy—but would be completely useless if he went away for so long. There’s no way in hell the Agency wouldn’t try to take advantage of a seven days window, even less fourteen. “What will I do without you? You have to stay!” you added, fumbling to find the right words. What was the best method to convince him? What should you do? This hadn’t been part of the plan!

“It’ll be fine. I thought about it all morning, Elizabeth. Our hearts are together now, aren’t they? Then we’ll be connected even if we are physically apart for a few days” he continued, effectively trapping you in what was, for once, a reasonably sane love logic. What could you say to that? No, you’re wrong?  “I brought you the cellphone you asked. You’ll be able to reach me anytime. I’ll always answer. And I’ll call you all the time to remind you what to do. You’ll just have to follow my instructions” he explained with the face of a man fully expecting you to bow and accept his superior judgement.

“Just bring me with you then. Please? I don’t want to be apart from you” you cried, tears coming unbidden to your eyes. “I’ll be good! I won’t bother you!” you promised, distress making you overlook the fact he would have indubitably done so if he thought it was a good idea.

“Not this time, my love. Don’t make that face. I don’t want to be away from you either, but we did it before Assistant Kang worked for me, remember?” he added with forced cheer. His eyes were becoming distant, as if he was reliving inwardly the memory of it and drawing strength from its positive result.

I’m losing him, you realized with horror. That was the limit of your power as Elizabeth 3rd; ultimately he was the master, and he knew better. And right now, better apparently meant leaving you behind to die.

It was an irrational fear, and you knew it – Jumin offered the best security in the whole country, and had probably enough security guards patrolling outside his penthouse to constitute a small army—but you just couldn’t accept it. Was there anything you did that prompted him to consider abandoning you acceptable? Maybe you should have been clingier than a baby since you arrived, and cry every second he wasn’t there until the very thought of leaving you for a more than a second would had never crossed his mind. Did you bring this on yourself by being a good, patient cat? Had you been too complacent in your position?

“No, Master. You have to stay with me” you repeated, trying to infuse your words with as much need as you could. “Don’t go! Don’t go!” you cried, impervious to the pain of the bounds digging in in your flesh as your body started moving on its own, fighting like an animal to reach him. You’d kiss his feet. You’d mewl pathetically. You’d do anything as long as he stayed. “No!” you repeated, your panic reaching an hysterical pitch.

“Elizabeth!” he chided, but you were past caring if you displeased him. Even a punishment meant he would stay, wouldn’t it? A punishment would be good. Even if he was to ignore you, or leave you in that cage for days on end, or use your fear as an additional tool to control you.

“Master, don’t leave me!” you cried again in the most abject, soul-breaking voice. Even the Agency hadn’t reduced you to such despair. It felt like your mind was about to break, and you had the fleeting vision of Jumin as the real Elizabeth escaped. Was that how he felt?

“Elizabeth” repeated Jumin with a broken voice, shaking with the pain of seeing you so distressed. “Just calm yourself. You should feel well any minute now. Everything is going to be fine” he promised, and understanding dawned on you as your sight started fraying around the edges.

That hadn’t been a vitamin. It was a sedative.

“No…Master…” you murmured drowsily as your body went limp. Your consciousness dimmed on the face of Jumin saying he loved you, and then there was only night.


It was a persistent ringtone that woke you up from your drug-induced coma. Your head was still fuzzy with the after effects, and the phone’s blaring insistence sounded like a million bees on your eardrums.

Who could be calling?…you thought confusedly, before the previous events rushed back to your mind, and your scrambled to take the call.

“Master, is it you? Where are you?” you cried, trying to assess the situation. Jumin had taken the time to remove your bonds, apply some ointment on the marks left by them and tuck you nicely in bed; depending on his other preparations and the elapsed time, maybe he was still in the country. You could still try to appeal to him.  

“It’s me, Elizabeth. I’m about to board the plane. How are you, my pearl?” he inquired, worry lacing his every word. “Was the sedative too strong? Are you in pain?”

You left me, Master!” you mewled in anguish, disregarding his questions. Guilt had worked in your favour previously, and you didn’t even have to pretend this time.

“You know I never would. I promise I won’t sleep, my love. I’ll—”

“Come back right now or I’ll destroy everything!” you interrupted, too upset to listen to his rationalizations. He could see you on the CCTV feed linked to his phone, didn’t he? You’d throw a majestic tantrum, you’d flood and burn the goddamn place—

“If you wish. I won’t mind. I understand you are mad. We can redecorate as you want when I return” he agreed, far too easily. The fact he considered fair the cost of an entire wrecked penthouse in return for your well-being clued you just how deeply remorseful he must have felt, but you couldn’t be empathic to his pain right now.  

“You don’t understand! I’ll die without you!” you sobbed, dissolving into tears like a little child. This was hopeless. Unless you told him the truth, he just wouldn’t understand. “I’ll die, Master! I’ll just die!” you repeated, cold dread gripping you. If a bullet didn’t, then his absence would.

“I have the same feeling, Elizabeth” he soothed, mistaking your words for simple heartache. “But we are not separated. I’ll call you day and night. All the time. I—”

“Great, then! You’ll be able to hear me die live on your fucking phone!!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, then threw the cell away with all your might. It bounced on the wall and fell on the carpeted floor like a disoriented bat, but you couldn’t care less. You had to get out of there and join Jumin somehow. You tried to run for the door, but tumbled as an elastic chain tugged on your left ankle, making you land on your bruised shins and howl in pain. Impotent rage filled you as you clutched them and rocked back in forth to assuage the hurt. You couldn’t even leave the room; Jumin had effectively rendered you more powerless than a sitting duck. Maybe you should just interpret it as a message from destiny that you were due to die.

So be it, you thought in resignation. Curling onto yourself, you let despair guide you back to sleep.


“Elly?” resounded a familiar voice outside of your slumber, making you stir in curiosity. “Elly, it’s me, I hacked the phone. Can you hear me?” repeated the voice. It was slightly mechanized because of the speaker function, but you only knew one man that boasted about his hacking skills. That couldn’t be… “Elly, wake up, we don’t have much time!”

“Defender? Is it you?” you answered, unable to believe it as your heart swelled with hope. That guy had the knack to appear in your darkest moments like a guardian angel, and you scurried to grab the device.

“No, don’t move!” warned your saviour, and you froze on the spot. “Jumin can still see you on the CCTV feed. Just crawl on the bed and roll to the left, okay? He’ll only see your back this way and think you’re ignoring his calls.”

“He’s still calling?” you wondered, guilt rearing its ugly head now that your panic had lessened. He had deserved it, but…

“He is. He’s been trying for hours now, so we really have to hurry. Just listen to me, okay? We probably won’t have another occasion to talk without Jumin getting suspicious. I know you’re upset, but it’s not this trip you should worry about. I think the Agency has understood that no amount of damage they can inflict on Jumin’s company will be enough to carve a way to you, even if he’s away. Seriously El, he’s blowing an insane amount of money to keep you safe. Jaehee can’t stop fretting about it in the chatroom. His penthouse is more secure than Fort Knox.”

“That’s…good then?” you replied with uncertainty. If everything was so neat, why was he so worried that he risked calling you?

“Not exactly. Did you hear that Jumin had his investigators bust the slave ring?” he asked, and you hummed in confirmation, remembering his speech to V. “They didn’t like that at all. I think they’re planning to hurt him directly now. I just don’t know how” he admitted, frustration evident in his tone. “In any case, it’s time to evolve like a Pokemon! You can’t only be his pet cat anymore. You have to be able to be by his side constantly.”  

“What are you suggesting? How much time do we have?” you asked, your mind scrambling for possibilities. Jumin would eventually see you as a full human, that much was sure, and you could accelerate the process to a certain extent, but it would still take a few months—

“Can you become his wife before Friday?” replied the Defender in all seriousness, and you nearly coughed to death.  

“Are you insane?” you protested as soon as your lungs allowed it. “I only met him days ago! In which universe can I go from being a nobody to Jumin Han’s wife in less than two weeks??”

“Well…You’d be surprised” he answered mysteriously. “But I honestly think that would be best. I’m not sure but I think they intend to strike then…Crap. I have to return you to Jumin before he hijacks the plane, so just think about it, alright? I only wish for your happiness” he concluded, before the line went dead, and Jumin’s ringtone took over.

He could have at least waited for me to thank him, you thought sadly, before shaking your head. There was a bigger task to worry about. You had to… seduce Jumin. As his cat. In like, 120 hours. When he was a million miles away.

Well, I know just where to start, you reflected as you eyed the discarded toys on the desk, then the phone. If Jumin couldn’t be convinced to hurry back with your tears, maybe he’d do it to stop you from getting off from a dick that wasn’t his.      

Chapter Text

“Master?” mewled Elizabeth’s sweet voice at the end of the line, and Jumin felt his heart almost drop in his chest in relief.

“Elizabeth. Do not hang up” he ordered, anger bubbling in his voice. “Do you understand me? Don’t ever hang up on me again!”

“I’m sorry, Master” replied his angel instantly, and he fought to rein himself in. He didn’t mean to be harsh with her. He wanted to say forgive me and please don’t hate me and most of all I love you, but it was lost in the dark fog of his mind. There was this sinister, more tempting voice shouting that he ought to lash at her for making him worry so. “Are you very mad at me?”

Yes. Yes, I am, he realized with acute certainty. It had been torture to hear her get so upset earlier, and then see her hurt herself and ignore his calls on his phone. He hadn’t been able to concentrate on the paperwork he had to read before meeting the Oil Prince at all.

But he had also been…happy. To see her so desperate, so consumed by the anguish of being apart from him; to hear her say that she would simply die without him, like she was a toy that only he knew how to wind up. Wasn’t it the proof that he was her whole world? That she loved him as he loved her, above all, entirely?

It had been almost impossible to resist the impulse to run back to the penthouse and take her into his arms until she stopped crying. Elizabeth should only look at him with impassioned eyes, and mewl in pleasure until she forgot herself; and yet…yet…her pain had been so beautiful and satisfying too. 

He was mad. At her. About her. He felt like he had been going insane while waiting for her to pick up.

“Elizabeth. Elizabeth” he simply repeated, like a supplicant. He couldn’t tell her about all the depraved things he had dreamed about while she was weeping on the floor. To cross the line and take her from behind as a tomcat would; to abuse his privileges as master and train her to welcome him inside her as a man. He could almost see it, how they both would sit in front of a mirror, her back to his chest and her perfect ass on his lap, and watch as he penetrated her, disappearing, burying himself in her wet folds. Her small hands would touch the base of his cock and follow it up to the point where their bodies met, almost in wonder he could fit, but fit he would, snug and proud in her core. She would be tight, and unsure, but he’d kiss her and murmur his devotion to her, and she’d look at him for approbation and start rocking her hips. He’d encourage her by caressing her nub and rolling a nipple between his fingers as she loved; her face would soon be transformed by pleasure and she’d mewl, quickening her pace and beg for more, and request for it all the time…

Master” replied his love in the same tone of worship, bringing him back to the present. “It’s alright, Master. I deserve to be punished. Ever since your friend came, I have had the most…inappropriate thoughts” she admitted in a tiny, guilty voice.

“Tell me” he ordered with razor-sharp fierceness, forgetting his previous distraction as the jealous part of himself added or I’ll make you tell me. Elizabeth was all his, body and soul; he wouldn’t share her with a secret, no matter what or who it was. The fact alone that she had successfully hid something from him was making his skin crawl; it just proved that his discipline hadn’t been as thorough as he intended if she had had the resistance to do so. At least she was coming clean about it now, and for that he’d be lenient. “No matter your mistake, I won’t abandon you” he reminded more gently, as one would soften his voice to lure a timid animal. She sounded so adorably nervous, and he longed to soothe her trembling breath.

“I…I love you, Master” she simply whispered, making his heart swell with an irrepressible, almost violent giddiness. He hadn’t thought he’d be this jubilant to hear it out loud; it felt like it would burst his body at the seams.

“I love you too, Elizabe—” he started fervently, eager to return the sentiment, but got cut off.

“No, Master, you don’t understand. I love you. I love you!” she repeated, stressing each syllable like it was a great sin until it sunk in that this was her admission, not merely an introduction. “Oh, this is so embarrassing!” she sobbed. “I want…I want to be more than your cat, Master! I want to walk besides you…show the world I’m yours…sleep with you as a woman would” she finished, so low that it was hardly more than a sigh, and he bit his lips as he savored each of her words. What was he doing here? He should be home, looking deep into her eyes as she professed her affection, instead of listening to it through a cheap piece of metal.  

“Master?” she inquired when he failed to answer. “You’re mad now, aren’t you? I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” she repeated, sobbing ever harder and watering his hungry heart with an ever darker rain. He imagined he could wipe the tears away with his thumb and suck on the crystalline liquid; precious gems of tortured anguish from his perfect, silly cat, afraid of displeasing him by confessing she loved him, of all things.

“Elizabeth, shh, that’s—“ alright, he meant to say, but got cut off again.

“I know I should be satisfied just being your cat, Master! I know I’m beneath your station, that I’m being disgustingly greedy by wishing you would lower yourself and mate with me! It’s just, all this talk of your marriage with another woman, and now this trip…! I started thinking, I have a human body now, don’t I? I could be your wife! I’d learn to be refined, and accomplished, and worthy of you, I—I could bear you an heir if you need one! Please Master, I know I could make you so much happier!”

Elizabeth!” he shouted, forcing her into silence. He wouldn’t let her belittle herself and spout more nonsense about how loving him wholeheartedly was sinful or shameful; not when he himself had daydreamed about it mere seconds ago. More than that, it irritated him deeply to discover that she had been able to hold back because of ethical reasons, no matter her opinion on the matter. He owned her; he was the one who got to decide what was right or wrong.

Or in that case, if it even mattered anymore.

“Elizabeth” he started again after a minute, his voice still shaking slightly. It was hard to concentrate when his mind was filling with visions of her belly ripening with his seed, literally swelling with a part of himself growing inside her and possessing her through her very womb. “You’re perfect as you are. How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want anyone else but you at my side?”

“Master?” was his reward, a hopeful, spurting squeal of joy. “Is it really okay for me to imagine you kissing me and move inside me?”

“I don’t want you to repress any of your feelings” he confirmed, circumventing the tricky notion of okay as he flustered at her desires. How had she called it earlier? Mating. To show her submission and let him claim her in the most irrevocable way. How could he deny her when the same irresistible urge pulsed in his veins? Why should he, when their passion toward each other was mutual?

Or perhaps, the most rational part of himself argued, it was simply the ache created by the distance speaking. Maybe he only dared to imagine it because he couldn’t act on it? Perhaps he ought not to be so hasty in indulging their lust. After all, he couldn’t confound her animal instinct with a true awareness of her actions. When he’d get home, he’d have a clearer assessment of the situation; until then—

“Ah!…” panted his princess in his ear. There was a rustle of fabric and the crackling of the sound set to speaker mode, then her cute voice pleaded again in the manner his loins were getting all too receptive to. “Ah, Master!..”

“Elizabeth? What are you doing?” he warned, the familiar itch to reaffirm his control over her creeping under his skin.

“I’m…yearning for you, Mast—ah! Yes! Yes! Yes!” she chanted in a quick succession of moans, and he tore the phone away from his ear to switch to the video feed. A red-hot jolt of lust went straight to his cock as the image of her lascivious body filled the screen. Her knees were bent and her legs spread, giving her mutinous fingers all the space necessary to roam over her pussy, exposing herself with one hand and exploring her canal with the other. Even with the smallness of the device, he could see her digits being sucked in, and her intentions became clear as she started to slowly pump them in and out in shallow, hesitant strokes. Her lips were moving against the empty air, kissing with devotion a ghost-like lover—presumably him.

Elizabeth. What did I say about not relying on me?” he warned, trying to keep his voice low as fellow passengers peered at him curiously.  He wouldn’t tolerate self-sufficiency when it came to her pleasure, and she knew it.

“Master! I cant wait! I can’t—ahh!—it’s too good!” she mewled in earnest. “I’m so wet for you, Master! I keep thinking—ahh! — I keep thinking about you inside and—ahhh! Yes!! — it just goes deeper and deeper!” she moaned, driving him crazy. His hand shook as he passed to the video feed again and saw her wriggle three of her fingers in, up to the third knuckle. Clear juice was glistening obscenely all over her flower now, and he watched helplessly as she dragged her left hand upwards, smearing her essence over her tummy, her breast and all the way up to your mouth. Below, her folds had closed around her plunging fingers like carnivorous petals, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her tongue, tasting her own tang; she looked enraptured, and his cock hardened to the point of pain.

“I’ll be in my rooms soon, my love. Be a good girl and wait for my instructions” he tried to reason, fumbling to find his earbuds. On the screen, Elizabeth just shook her head, her left hand trailing backwards to disappear from whence it came, and he crushed back the phone against his skull as her cherry lips opened to release the sweetest moans. “—touch my nub too, I—AH! Master! Master!” she screamed. “It feels so good, Master! It feels so—ahhh! Ah, ah!! Take me, Master!” she begged. “Can you—ah!—can you see me? Tell me you’re taking me, Mast—ahh! Ahh!” she moaned again, and he dropped the phone in his lap in his rush to see her again. She had flipped over, kneeling over the bed and presenting her ass to the camera, twisting her head to look back directly into the lens, and he lost it. Heaven be damned, he’d have her. Her eyes were nothing short of beseeching as she continued to play with herself, inviting him to free his cock and take over—

“This is the captain speaking. We’re about to land, so please turn off your communication devices” the intercom resounded, making swear under his breath.

“Elizabeth. I’ll give you anything you want, my love. Anything! I swear. Just wait for me” he implored, listening one last time to her fevered pleas before cutting the communication.


That was promising, you thought smugly as Jumin hung up. Judging from his breath, he had probably been close to come in his pants, and that boded well for your chances of success.

Honestly, you hadn’t expected Jumin to be so receptive, neither to your suggestions of sex or betrothal. There had to be something in witnessing your emotional meltdown that had excited his inner beast enough to override the taboo. Not that you complained; the Defender had been right yet again. Aiming to be his pet wife instead of pet cat or pet lover would truly solve all the problems. You felt the faintest remorse at jumping the gun and declaring you loved him, but the words hadn’t felt so false once they were out of your mouth. This sense of belonging, this desire you had to make his mania your own and monopolize him, couldn’t it be considered love too? The word was just too small to properly encompass all his possible meanings; and if it wasn’t, well…perhaps you didn’t want to know its true one. Jumin and you could be happy feeding on his madness forever and call it love.

No, the true problem lied with the time frame and the range of action. Jumin would cave in and be a kinky master until his return if you asked him, no doubt, but that didn’t make it before Friday; he would marry you with pomp and splendor and revere you as a goddess, but that didn’t mean he’d bring you out of the penthouse. As far as you could tell, he intended to imprison his bride the same way he caged his cat; there’d be a promotion in status, but not in privileges. Hopefully, if you couldn’t bargain to be with Jumin every second of the day, the Defender would find a way to warn you about which form the danger would take.

I wonder how close he’s keeping track of my progress, you thought in embarrassment, remembering how lewd and loud you’ve just been. Well, he didn’t seem the type, but if all he wanted as payment for his help was to get an eyeful of your porn-worthy performances, there wasn’t much harm, even if you’d prefer to keep your intimacy with Jumin strictly private from now on. A quick demonstration of ownership like in V’s case was fine, but with what you had in mind…

No time to worry about that, you chided yourself as you sat up. As tempting as it was to continue indulging yourself, you had to hurry to use the 20-or-so minutes the landing would take to prepare your next step, starting with delimiting the frontiers of your playground.  A closer inspection of the elastic chain revealed it was in fact a very long cord; the restrained tugging had only occurred yesterday because the wire got tangled with the bed table. It made sense; Jumin wouldn’t let you alone without access to the bathroom and the kitchen, at least.

Would the shower make a better backdrop than the bed to push him over the edge? you pondered, remembering the spacious enclosure. The glass walls could easily remind him of the bars of a cage, and you could drive him nuts by transforming one of his pinstriped shirts into an impromptu swimsuit. If drenched, the fabric would become almost see-through and cling to your every curve, revealing your entire body while hiding it at the same time. Plus, there was that handheld shower head…

Maybe a later time, you dismissed. You didn’t want to run the risk of damaging the phone by exposing it too much to moisture; and leaving far enough would just result in poor sound. No, the first plan was surely the best; toys, and Jumin’s rage.

Better make the most of them before he throws them all away, you thought greedily while choosing a few promising items, imagining his wrath upon his return. You wouldn’t even need lube; the vision of his controlled fury, all icy baritone as he would subject you to another kind of crazed regimen, was better than any aphrodisiac.


Jumin wouldn’t have been able to describe the emotion possessing him as he pushed the door of his guest suite open and speed-dialed Elizabeth’s number. The landing had been quick, but he had been greeted by emissaries the second he had put a toe outside the plane; then he had been forced to participate in insipid conversation as they drove him to the Oil Prince’s private residence. We’re so happy you’re here, Mister Han, the Oil Prince is looking forward to introduce you to his niece, Mister Han, we arranged a new golf course in the desert for you, Mister Han…it was endless, and pointless, and frankly irritating. All he could think about was Elizabeth, kneeling while begging him to take her, and resorting to God knows what to satisfy her urges since then.

It’s okay. She needs you, he tried to reassure himself, remembering how the toy alone hadn’t been able to sate her appetite this morning, but his mind was spiraling out of control. Suppose a security guard defied his orders and went inside? How could he resist? How could she? She said she loved him, but would that matter when she was obviously in heat? Would she look at him and whisper please take care of me while Master is away?  Would she call for him even as that brute pounded into her, filling the room with moans he should be the only one to hear?

His vision was going red. He should have taken her before leaving. He should have—

“Master!” mewled Elizabeth’s breathless voice at the end of the line, and something cracked inside him. Why was she out of breath? Did she defy him and found a way to please herself? Or did his worst fears come true, and she had just been serviced? He couldn’t take it. He wanted to be nice, and say I’m here now, I’ll take care of you, I’ll make you feel good, but a darker impulse was invading his mind.  

“Say you love me” he heard himself say instead. “Swear you love only me!” he almost barked when she failed to answer immediately, and regretted it instantly. Of course Elizabeth loved him; hadn’t he been positively sure of it this morning? Wasn’t that what had led to this very situation?  He didn’t need her to grovel at his feet to prove it!

“…I love you, Master. I love you. I love only you!” she purred, and he choked a sob. Who was he kidding? He was a mutant, not a gentleman; he did need to hear it. Images were coming unbidden in his mind, of her mewling her love while rubbing herself against his legs like she did when he was a cat, and falling on her back when he would crouch to pet her head, presenting her belly while blushing cutely. Fill me with your love, Master, she would murmur, and pant in delight as he would unbuckle his belt—he was the worst. Here he was planning to marry her, and the next second defiling her on the floor. “I love you so much! I—ah!!” she moaned, and all his remorse evaporated like droplets under the midday sun.

Elizabeth” he warned roughly, plugging the earbuds as he switched to the video feed, and almost crushing his phone the moment she materialized on the screen. She was beautiful—and misbehaving so much he’d never let her alone again. Her nipples stood stiffly, forced into rosy buds under a pair of clamps, and she was lavishing her attention on a flesh colored dildo, licking and sucking it as if it was the rarest candy; that was bad enough, but the way her lower half kept squirming suggested she had put something inside herself too.

“Elizabeth. Stop right now” he ordered, a deep, guttural sound that quickly morphed into an infuriated growl as she shook her head, a rebellious no-no-no that left no doubt to her actions: she was provoking him. “Stop. Right. Now!” he repeated through clenched teeth, so tightly he could have broken some as he watched one of her hands sneaking down to press something between her thighs instead. Her hips bucked violently forward, letting him glimpse what looked like one – or two? – remote controls dangling.

“Make me, Master—ahh!” she dared, her cute toes curling as another wave of pleasure rolled through her. Her eyes were hazy as she took a last lick and slid the toy down, between her breasts and navel, until it parted her folds open and rested on her clit. “Or tomorrow night I’ll—yes!” she moaned as she teased herself with it, coating the silicone with her juices, “ah, yes, Master! Take me!” she screamed in delight as she pushed the tip into her entrance, making his blood run cold.

Elizabeth” he warned one last time. His sanity was breaking, its pieces carried into the storm of his obsession of her. He was going back. Right now. He would chain her to the bed every morning, match her cuffs with her collar, and watch her wriggle enticingly on his return rather than greet him at the door; it’d be a minor sacrifice in return for her guaranteed obedience.

But first, he was going to punish her.

Chapter Text

Tick, tock, tick, tock…

You checked again the mantel clock on the bedtable, one of those antiques Jumin seemed to favor because they were old and pricy. The pendulum was swinging back and forth, inexorably counting every second until Jumin’s return. 

Tick, tock, tick, tock… 

The hour read 22h30, matching the moonlight illuminating the window. You didn’t dare turn a lamp on; there was something sinister in Jumin’s last words yesterday that foreboded acts that only occurred in the dead of the night.

I won’t be merciful this time, Elizabeth.

He had hung up right after, and hadn’t picked up your calls since then; it was making you nervous. Not because you worried he had lost interest, but because Jumin was fundamentally nice and devoted to you, never doing anything more abusive than the occasional shout and what his pathological need to protect you dictated. This silent treatment was cruel and out of character, and you couldn’t ignore the queasy feeling in the pit of your stomach warning you that you had bitten more than you could chew.  

And yet…even that fear was exciting you. Jumin was coming back with the single intention to claim you, and whichever incarnation of him would show at the door was the one you wanted, no matter how out of control. It was the version of him that would own you, never leave you, and love you with all its twisted might; it was therefore the best.

“Master, hurry…” you murmured, your voice half muffled by the pillow. It smelt like him, all crisp linen and sophisticated cologne, and you took deep breaths to fill your lungs with it. It soothed some of your longing, and you fleetingly tried to grasp how utterly lonely you would have been if Jumin had been gone for days. You’d have gone mad and resorted to the same tricks to hasten his return, most likely; tonight would have been unavoidable either way.

How quickly things change, you mused, remembering your life before. How many days had it been since you met Jumin? Eight, at most? The irony wasn’t lost on you that you had traded a life of slavery for another kind of servitude, but you couldn’t find it in you to regret it. Your whole body was tingling in anticipation of his arrival, and your insides were spasming with the need to be filled with him at last. I’m born to be Jumin’s, you thought in a haze, rubbing your thighs together in a futile attempt to relieve your arousal. It shouldn’t be long now; you had to resist the temptation to touch yourself or play with more toys. Jumin was away, but you had no doubt he was still watching; provoking him any more than you already had would just pour oil on the fire.

“Master…Master…Master!” you screamed in the empty penthouse, like one would try to conjure a ghost into existence. Your nipples were hurting, hard from the constant, instinctual rubbing on the bedsheets, and a layer of sweat was running down your back. You felt feverish, sick with desire, and the cure to your ache was late. “Master, hurry…I can’t wait anymore…” you whined, taking a bite in the mattress like it was a part of him. The window shook with the flash of a thunderbolt, and your heart leapt as you heard the tell-tale rapping of the door being unlocked. It was much too loud, like a bear was on the other side rather than a man, but you didn’t care. Your feet moved by themselves, running out of the bedroom to meet him, and you hit him straight in the chest as he turned the corner.

“Mast—uuuhmmm!” you moaned as Jumin brutally pushed you against the wall and crushed his lips on yours with barely restrained fury. It was a kiss to dominate you, subjugate you, break you, and you eagerly complied as he invaded your mouth with the brutality of a barbaric conqueror. His tongue was all over your teeth, your gums, your palate, stretching and sliding relentlessly against your own like he wanted to shove himself down your throat; you couldn’t breathe. You didn’t care. It felt good to become lightheaded and weak under his hands, and you moaned again as he hooked them behind your knees to lift you up and grind his pelvis against yours. The hardness pressing against you was unmistakable, and you locked your legs and arms around his hips and neck, drawing him closer to revel in it.

“Mast—ahh!” you cried as his mouth slid down your neck and took a bite, a vengeful nick that would leave much more than a hickey. Your fingers curled in the short hair of his nape to encourage him, but the small movement seemed to snap him out of his trance. All at once, your feet hit the ground and you found your wrists enclosed in his fists, keeping your hands up on each side of your head.

“Were you trying to run away from me, Elizabeth?” he asked, his eyes as black as sin. His grip tightened to the point of pain as a tremor ran through him, like a shiver of insanity. “Were you?

“No, Master! I only want you—Master!” you protested as he dragged you back in his room and threw you face first on the bed. He was misunderstanding, but left you no opportunity to explain as he raised your ass to force you to kneel and unceremoniously buried two fingers in you.

Aaaa!” you cried in surprise, but the sting of it was already disappearing, replaced by your starved body’s delight at feeling him at last. He was in. In! Much like your first time on this bed, your hips started bucking against his hand out of their own volition, craving the pleasure it could give. “Ahh! Master! That feels—ahh!—feels so good!” you moaned in joy, and Jumin caressed your backside in a much calmer manner.

“That’s it… Just like that… You needed it bad, didn’t you, Elizabeth? You’re so wet. You were about to ask another man to satisfy you, weren’t you?”

“No, Master! I only want y—ahh!” you moaned helplessly as his other hand left your back to start playing with your clit, robbing you of any resistance. His fingers stroked it over and over, like he was petting your head instead, and you spread your legs automatically as you remembered the long hours of training in his lap. Don’t be shy, Elizabeth. Give Master some space so I can make you feel good, is what he kept repeating, and tonight was no different. It felt so good you were trembling, but Jumin was keeping it maddeningly slow.

I have to control myself and make him understand, you thought hazily, but couldn’t manage the will. If you bent your head and looked between your legs, you could actually see his hands all over your pussy, see his fingers disappear inside you as you impaled yourself on them, and could barely restrain yourself from going faster.

“Don’t hold back, Elizabeth” instructed Jumin as you tried to muffle a piercing moan, as if sensing your doubts. “It’s alright. You can’t help those urges. I’m the one who should have noticed your need earlier” he continued, his voice now eerily calm.

“Master, that’s not—ahh! Ah, Master!” you tried again, and failed as he started pumping you instead. His jabs were deep and vicious, as if to scold you for contradicting him, and the air filled with moist sounds as he steadily increased the pace, denying your inner walls their frantic attempts to suck him deeper and trap him there. Pleasure was building up in you like an upcoming storm, encouraged by Jumin’s constant caresses on your clit, and you struggled not to drool. You were panting so hard, it seemed impossible to close your mouth.

“Stop lying, Elizabeth. Your body tells me all I need to know. But that’s not all you want, is it? My princess is so greedy.”

That’s not it! You’re getting it all wrong! a part of you insisted, but was silenced as the thumb from the hand pumping you slid upwards on your perineum, then brushed against your asshole. It was the briefest touch, only enough to draw a jolt of pleasure out of the ring of nerves, but you bucked like a wild horse, taking support on your elbows to arch your back in a supplicating manner.

“Shhh, Elizabeth, it’s okay. I’ll give you what you need. You just have to admit it.”

Master” you begged, panic intertwining with desire as you turned your head to look at him. His eyes were colder than the Day of Judgment, and reminded you of the time you met him. Why did you leave? I gave you everything. Why? he had said then, driven insane by obsession. Back then, you only had to follow his lead and agree to whatever he said to save yourself; now was much the same, except…

No! Master, I wasn’t thinking of another man! I wasn’t—aaaaaaah!” you denied, losing all credibility as he dug his thumb on your rosy pucker and slid back down, massaging the thin stripe of flesh there in sync with the relentless stimulation of your clit and core.

“And yet you are so happy when we talk about it. You understand my reserve, don’t you?”

He’s mad, you thought desperately, trying to ignore the treacherous voice saying agree and he’ll let you come. But then, hadn’t he always been? Hadn’t you been reassured by that very quality at the beginning? A man obsessed, seeing only what he wanted to see—and now he was seeing you as naturally unfaithful if left unattended, and wouldn’t bulge on this assumption.  

You were screwed. You couldn’t pretend to know everything about Jumin, but you knew enough to imagine the fate he reserved for an adulteress.

“Master, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m misbehaved. I love you. I love only you!” you sobbed, grasping for a way out, and got rewarded when he picked up the pace. In, out, in, twist and slide… “I’m so sorry! I’ve been bad! I regret it! I only want you!” you continued, letting yourself embrace his punishment as he fucked you harder with his hands. You’d confess to being a bad girl until your throat got sore and let him spank you like a child if it could satisfy him. “I won’t do it again! Forgive me, Master—aaaahhh!!” you screamed as his thumb slid back up and penetrated you.

“Master, not there! I—ahh, ahh!—I can’t–! I ca—aaaaaah! Aaaaaah, Master! Master!”  you cried helplessly as he kept pressing, deaf to your pleas. “Master pl—ahhhhhh!” you sobbed in joy as your orgasm unfurled, pure white fire engulfing your senses at feeling him everywhere at once. Your body tightened in the vice grip of rapture, making you squeeze on Jumin’s fingers with both your holes, burning his presence in your mind with a tactile memory you’d never be able to forget.

“That’s not bad, Elizabeth” commented Jumin over you as you collapsed on the bed, before retiring his hands and licking them clean, “except it’s not enough. Do you know how much that aborted visit will costs us?” he asked, and you shook your head as dread bloomed again in your heart. “But I’ll make it easy for you” he continued as he unbuckled his belt.

“Please, Master, I only wanted you” you protested, unsure of his intentions. Gag you? Whip you? Was there anything Jumin wouldn’t do to ensure his possession of you?

“I know, my love. And you’ll have me now. Back on your knees” he instructed, and you obeyed, unable to hide your excitement as you presented your ass submissively to him, your whole body shaking with treacherous desire. Jumin took hold of your hips, dragging you to the edge of the bed, and you couldn’t help a moan as you heard him unzip his fly.

“My poor kitty. There, there, it’s coming” he soothed, and you felt his hard cock press against your folds. It was hot, and alive, and you could have come from rubbing yourself on it if he had let you; but Jumin kept you very still, one hand steadying your back while the other guided his engorged member, coaxing more juice out of you as he teased your entrance and clit with his tip.

Ah…ahh…ahhh…” you panted, in long, obscene breaths. His head was so very smooth yet firm, promising pleasure you could only dream about before, of being owned and stretched and filled to the brink, of being connected to Jumin in a way no other woman could pretend. He’d become yours at the same second you’d be his, and your body was begging for it, no matter the cost or the consequences.

“Do you want me, Elizabeth?” asked Jumin over you, and you nodded rapidly. “Out loud, my love.”

“Yes, Master, I do!” you replied, distraught. You wanted him so bad you wanted to cry, tears of happiness and frustration, of fear and relief, of joy, and love

“Did you disobey me while I was gone?” he asked, more softly, and you nodded again, choking back a sob. “Out loud, my love.”

“Yes, Master! I did!—ahh!” you moaned in delight as he pushed his tip inside you, still just enough to tease. “I did!” you repeated fervently, like a penitent groveling for the forgiveness of an angry God. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“Did you think of another man?” he asked even more softly, like a snake, and this time you burst into tears as you finally understood what his true punishment was.

“Please Master, don’t do that, pleasepleaseplease—”

Did you think of another man?” he repeated, impervious to your distress, and you bit your lips as if to hold the answer in. He was being unbelievably cruel to ask you to shame yourself so perversely, but you wanted him too much to resist; Jumin gently rocked, the velvety skin of his cock like a heavenly caress on your inner lips, and you lost it.

I did, Master! I did! I did! I—ahhhh! Master! Yes! Yes! More! you screamed as he penetrated you in one fell swoop and started pounding into you relentlessly. The wet sounds of his groin smacking against you ass filled the air, and you lowered yourself on your elbows, breasts jingling against your chest as you angled yourself to better absorb his thrusts and let the pleasure possess you. You were crying—you were moaning—you didn’t know.  Jumin was taking you and it felt so good, and everything else—your name, your life, the truth—was inconsequential. “Master! More! I love you! I love you!”

“I’m here, Elizabeth” groaned Jumin over you with some difficulty. You could hear the strain of his own pleasure in his voice. “I’ll cleanse you from inside. Say you’ll only be mine now.”

“Only yours, Master! Only yours! I swear! I swear! Master! I love you!”

“Good girl” he grunted. “Come for me now.”

Your mind shattered in white bliss instantly, unable to deny the command, and you heart soared as you felt his seed follow shortly after in angry spurts. It was hot and thick, and Jumin pressed as deep as he could, as if wanting to prevent as single drop from falling out until your inner walls finished milking him completely dry and drink it all. You collapsed back on the bed as soon as he released you, sobbing in exhaustion.

“Let me look at you, Elizabeth” instructed Jumin breathlessly, hunching over you like hawk. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he fretted. His voice had regained that worried quality that made him more Jumin and less its beastly alter-ego, and you strained to roll on your back to expose your body to his anxious stare. Your senses were focused on the sticky proof of his love running down your thighs, and you blindly dabbed your fingertips in it to see it with your own eyes.

Jumin has come into me, you marvelled, elation bubbling in yours veins. You were his now, maybe even pregnant with his child.  It made you wish he would come on you to rub yourself whole with his sperm.

Master” you mewled devotedly while meeting his concerned gaze, extending your arms to welcome him against you again even as your tears continued to pearl. “More. I want more!”

“Yes. Of course. As much as you need. Forever, my princess” he replied, his eyes glittering with a deranged glint as he covered your body with his own. “Just be mine. Think only of me. Look and listen only at me! Forget everything that isn’t me!” he implored between kisses all over your ears and neck. His arms fumbled to hook your knees over his shoulders, forcing you to fold over yourself until both your feet rested on each side of his head. There was nowhere else to look but at him this way, nothing else to see but his eyes bearing into yours like two dark moons, pressuring your psyche to cave in and join him in the abyss, and you didn’t hesitate.

“I’m yours, Master! I’m yours! I’m yours! I’m —ahhh! Ahh!” you moaned in deliverance as he started ramming deep into you again, his pupils feasting on your rapidly disheveling expression. His lips crashed to claim your mouth and you eagerly kissed him back, finding the thread of your sanity in your mind—and cutting it.


“Elizabeth. Open your mouth, my love.”

It was morning, and Jumin had installed a poofy cushion on the floor beside his chair for you to sit on. You were resting your cheek on his thigh, content to bask in his presence as he finished reading the newspaper.

“Elizabeth” chided Jumin gently as you licked his fingers, cleaning all traces of the strawberry he just fed you. “It’s too early for that.”

“I want Master all the time” you replied honestly, and was happy to see him chuckle. If he was in a good mood, then so were you.

“I’m glad to hear that” he praised, grabbing your chin and bending for a quick kiss before standing up. “Let’s get you settled for the day. Do you need to go to the bathroom? I won’t make it back before four o’clock, at least” he theorized, making you whine.

“Don’t cry, Elizabeth. I’ll call you often. I’ll give you some leeway with your right hand so you can grab the phone, okay? Don’t worry. I just need to properly transfer all my office here, then I’ll never leave you side again. That makes you happy, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Master” you answered, your smile so wide it was hurting your cheeks. Jumin took you in his arms to carry you, and you rubbed your head against his chest in contentment.

“Here” he cooed, gently putting you on the bed before passing your wrists and ankles in the attached restraints. “All done. You’re beautiful, Elizabeth” he complimented, his gaze possessively roaming over you. “Please think of our wedding when I’m gone. What do you think of a satin white collar studded with diamonds?”

“It sounds lovely, Master” you replied docilely. Another collar would be wonderful. Jumin had even spoken of a matching leash.

“Not as lovely as you” he whispered, kissing you deeply before tearing his mouth away. “Do you want a toy while I’m away?”

“No Master! I never want another toy again. Just you” you implored, distressed at the thought. Toys would make you unfaithful unless Jumin was there to supervise you. You knew that now.

“Aren’t you the obedient kitty now? My good girl” he praised, caressing your cheek. “Don’t worry, I know you’ll only think of me this time. Won’t you?”

“Yes Master!” you swore, helpless to resist as he inserted the Lush toy in you again. Jumin drummed his fingers on his phone and smiled in satisfaction as the vibrator started making you pant in pleasure.

“Your expression is so divine, Elizabeth. Just stay like this. I’ll be back soon” he promised, letting you nuzzle his palm one last time before turning around, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Be careful what you wish for, said the old adage, for you might get it. Jumin would wear your ring on his finger and never be more than an arm’s length away soon. This was happiness, wasn’t it?


Friday, the Defender had said. Then you’d be free to forget completely about everything that wasn’t Jumin.

It couldn’t come fast enough.

Chapter Text

The news that famous tycoon Jumin Han was getting married took all of Korea by storm. Not much was known about the bride he jealously hid, which drove the media wild. Some speculated you were a rich heiress from a foreign country; some spun a rags-to-riches story; some gossiped the elder Mr. Han only agreed to the match because you were already pregnant.

To be honest, you had no idea how Jumin had convinced his father, but the latter explanation was painfully untrue. Nothing had distressed you more on the night of Jumin’s transfer of office than the red spots appearing on his plush white carpet.

“Shhh, don’t cry, Elizabeth, it’s alright” had soothed Jumin tenderly while you kept sobbing in his shirt —well, after a panicked call to his doctor to confirm you were not slowly hemorrhaging to death from some rare internal condition—but you were inconsolable. How could he be so indulgent when you failed at your role so badly? You were not worthy of being called his pet. Cats were meticulously clean creatures that didn’t bleed all over their owner’s furniture. Cats conceived easily and didn’t require tampons and pads. The real Elizabeth 3rd would never have subjected her master to something so inelegant. Why couldn’t you be more like her?

Worse than your self-esteem though, was the fact it made Jumin hold back in his affections as if you were actually injured rather than menstruated. Try as you might, you were not able to find comfort from his obvious thrill at providing for your new need; no amount of massages, hot baths, or expertly crafted Belgian chocolates could make up for your desire to feel him move in you again, and it wasn’t long before your craving bordered on desperation. 

“Patience, my love” would repeat Jumin each time you would try to appeal your case by mewling and rubbing your face against his, like a baby animal would request food of its parent by licking its snout. At first he’d give you quick kisses to appease you, but he soon discovered giving you his fingers to suck on instead worked much better to calm you down. Once (eleven days, short of two weeks; an eternity ago to your mind), you would have felt ashamed, but now you just welcomed the relief flooding your veins at having some part of himself in you. It didn’t help that Jumin would look at you with utter adoration then and encourage you to depend on him even more, like a loving snake hypnotizing its prey in an ever-deeper sleep. Your eyes would close, your muscles relax, and you would suckle lazily, a satisfied purr rumbling through your frame for the brief time the taste of his skin filled your mouth.

The event at least had the advantage of setting you both into a domestic routine, letting you glimpse what the rest of your life at Jumin’s side would be like. He would wake up around 6h30 and gently untangle his limbs from yours to go make breakfast; if you stirred, he would hush you back to sleep until he returned with the food. Feeding from his hands lasted about half an hour, followed by his careful brushing of your teeth and hair, and a thorough inspection of your health. If there was still time, he would consider which outfit would suit you best for the day and take a few pictures to create what he called a catalogue of looks; you had to stifle your giggles the first time he showed you the gallery, for they were all adorably blurry or shaky. The unexpected quirk was terribly cute, but Jumin wasn’t amused at all by his own lack of skill.

“I’ll hire a professional photographer to capture your beauty” he would grumble after each attempt, dejected at his poor results. Of course, he never did, choosing to claim he just didn’t find the right clothes yet rather than exposing you to another man; you eagerly agreed and suggested he try again. You didn’t mind playing the doll, dressing and undressing in more poses than an art model; the process had an almost ritualistic quality, invariably ending up with you back naked—or in this case, in silky embroidered underwear—with your collar as the only accessory. Jumin would nod his head each time he would instruct you to strip bare to that single item, reaffirming his preference for the possessive necklace over any expensive fashion he could acquire. Both showcased marvellously well his ownership, but the red band made it undeniable. He had attached a cute tag made of pure gold on it, stating “Property of Jumin Han”; it made you feel very proud and cherished.

At 9 o’clock sharp, you’d both move into his newly installed office. Jumin would read reports, sign contracts, review the company’s performance, participate in conference calls and process all paperwork less than five feet away from you, while you’d curl on your reserved papasan chair for a quick nap or slide on the ground to play with some cat toys. If Jumin judged that you needed more stimulation, he would turn on the flat television on the wall for you to watch some selected programs on mute, mostly documentaries of the natural world with no human host to distract from the scenery; if his phone schedule permitted it, he would add classical music in the background for additional enjoyment.

Honestly, you thought it was a waste that he didn’t use the occasion to make you learn some wifely talents like flower arrangement or tea brewing, but Jumin seemed perfectly content to have your whole attention on him. He would stop his work sometimes just to look at your big sapphire eyes blinking curiously at him, and he would smile—a warm, happy smile that would make you smile back with all your might and curl your toes in giddiness. You suddenly understood how couples could declare they only needed each other to be fulfilled and whole; Jumin was your entire world, and his world was complete as long as he could see his reflection in your eyes. Your presence alone was enough for his adoration to peak, regardless of the qualities or the flaws you could develop, and in return you let your soul dissolve in his gaze with blissful relish. In this bubble he created, it seemed possible to achieve this ideal of a cat pretending to be human rather than the reverse, and you sought it passionately. No more fears, or doubts, or pain; only the pleasure of being Jumin’s pet in a continuous loop of ecstatic dependency.

“I love you, Master” you would mewl then when this feeling would dominate all your thoughts and overflow out of you, in your voice and through your tears; unfailingly Jumin would drop everything he was doing and attend to you. Depending on his mood, he would read translations of old French poems as if the words of love were his own and just as immortal for the centuries to come; or he would caress you with a perverted form of intimacy that left you more languid than a vampire’s embrace.

An onlooker would have seen no difference between his actions then and a regular form of foreplay; he would have told about deep kisses and hands feeling the pertness of your breasts and the roundness of your butt. But Jumin’s touch then wasn’t as your lover, torrid and hungry for your moans; it was as your master, calm and soothing like a forest’s spring. He would give you his mouth to swallow your cries; his lips to seal their outpour; his tongue to silence your words. His hands would roam over your body to reassure your heart in a way mere promises couldn’t. I’m here, would say his fingers to your stiffening nipples; you’re mine they would add as they traced the lines of your trembling hips; I own you was the message sent as they pushed the fabric away to knead your ass cheeks. If you were lucky, he would brush and play with the ring of nerves hidden between them to remind you of his right to touch you everywhere he pleased, and delight in your submissive mewls. “What a good kitty you are, Elizabeth” he would murmur then, the praise intoxicating you like wine.

Despite this, his insecurity remained, making you wonder if he’d ever trust you more than two minutes alone; any outing, be it a lengthy meeting with his father or a short interview with the press, would see you restrained in the bedroom. They were mercifully rare though; Jumin became busy planning your marriage, and canceled anything that wasn’t related to it. He was investing himself in the preparations with the same zeal he usually reserved for his previous cat projects, and you could only share his enthusiasm for it.

“Look, Elizabeth” he had said once, pointing to various plans for the wedding on his desk. “You’ll wear this dress for the photography shoot to distribute to the press, but we’ll have our own private ceremony here. I also have had official papers forged for you in case we need to travel again.”

“…We? So we’ll never have to be separated again, Master?” you had questioned, barely daring to hope.

“That’s right” replied Jumin fondly, and you had squealed in delight loud enough to deafen him, then crashed your mouth against his, hugging him with all your might. Jumin had indulged your excitement for a few minutes, a laugh of happiness rumbling in his chest, and you had continued to purr on his lap for an hour while he revised one document or another, his left hand idly petting your hair. 

Lunchtime and evening would arrive with meals delivered by the chef, followed by nights repeating a similar pattern from mornings, except for the bath, which you now took together. Jumin would let you shampoo his hair sometimes, giving you the opportunity to gift him with much needed scalp massages; mostly though, he had sit you between his legs while he took care of everything. He would wrap you in a fluffy towel for the brief trip to his bed, where you would curl up on his chest, safely locked in his arms, until the clock hit 6h30 again. The sun rose and set in a blur, until Friday’s dawn pointed over the skyscrapers.

“Are you going anywhere today, Master?” you inquired inconspicuously during the daily health inspection, biting your lip in worry.

“I’m not, my love, so stop hurting yourself” replied Jumin tenderly, mistaking your sudden unease with simple neediness. “Besides”, he added, a dark flame lighting in his orbs as his hand trailed on your thigh, “I believe your body is ready for me now. Are you…?” he trailed off, catching you in his arms as you launched yourself at him, a smug smile floating on his lips at your eagerness.  

This is paradise, you thought hazily as your frantic kisses escalated in desperate moans, mingling in the air with the jingle of your collar tag. How could it go wrong..?


That was the last time I checked on those two, swore Seven while clicking the window shut, hiding his embarrassment by busying himself on his hacking assignment instead. Seriously, who knew Jumin could be such a beast? Even if he trained for a million years, he’d be lucky if he could ever get the stamina to satisfy his own girlfriend like he did.

Not that you’ll ever get a girlfriend, he reminded himself sternly. It was the ransom of the deal he made long ago, and he wouldn’t regret it; it was enough he could enjoy it vicariously. Jumin and Elly looked thoroughly smitten with one another (an understatement, if ever there was one), and he was proud to have helped them both with their lives. Plus, it was hilarious to read Jaehee freaking out about it in the chatroom. He was ready to bet she wouldn’t try to interfere again after her last attempt backfired into a proposal, of all things, though he almost wished she would. Her scream of horror if Jumin ever told her to cancel his appointments because he had to attend to the urgent needs of his lustful cat bride would probably be heard in the next galaxy—scratch that, the next dimension.

No, really, all that left to do was keep an eye on the Agency’s next move until they dropped the matter. Hurting Jumin sounded impossible with the swarm of bodyguards surrounding him whenever he set foot outside of his lair, but he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling he was overlooking something.

“Do you have to be this messy?” chided Vanderwood upon entering his bunker, a dismayed look on his face. “Even pigs are not so dirty!”

“You wouldn’t understand” replied Seven with a wicked smile, enjoying his maid’s bulging eyes as he crammed a fistful of Honey Buddha chips in his mouth with no regards to the flecks falling everywhere on his desk. “I’m God 707, and the colony of microscopic creatures living in my keyboard await their daily rain of food!”

“You disgust me—“ started Vanderwood.

“—can you hear them? Makumba! Makumba!” chanted Seven while approaching his ear from the keys. “It means Feed us, Great One! I can’t disappoint them!”

“I suggest you do and finish your work” grumbled Vanderwood, wearily massaging the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been told all agents are to be on standby to deal with the collapse of a big company.”

“On standby? That’s strange” mused Seven out loud while focusing back on his work. “Aren’t they usually more precise, down to the very minute? What are they waiting for?”

“Mail delivery? Apparently, the target has a gifted hacker on his side, so there’s no choice but to use such an outdated method—and before you ask me, no, I don’t know who that great genius is, and I don’t care to know if he’s better than you either” concluded Vanderwood with a shrug, but Seven wouldn’t even have heard him. White noise filled his head as the most horrible guess came to his mind, and he lunged for his cellphone.


Please let me die, thought Jaehee upon entering her office. If she felt life had been hell when Mr. Han had been worried sick about his cat, it was nothing to the maelstrom created by his decision to marry her. The company was quickly turning into a capharnaum where reports and contracts were flying all around like bullets on a battlefield—with everyone looking to her for directions now that their boss was permanently holed in his penthouse.

I need a raise. And vacations. And an ocean of coffee! she dreamed while leaning on the closed door for a short break. Just a few minutes of blissful silence amongst the chaos—


What now?! she fumed while checking her cellphone, about to dismiss the caller until she saw his name. 

“Luciel? Is everything okay?” Even as she said it, Jaehee knew the answer was negative. Luciel never called her unless it was an emergency.

“Jaehee! Stop the mail! Jumin must not open his mail!!”

“What? Why? What’s wrong?” she asked, already fearing his next words.

“Remember when I said you didn’t want to know how I could be sure of Elizabeth’s death?” spouted Luciel, so fast she could barely make out the words.

“Yes. Yes, I do.” How could she not? That’s when the whole trouble had started. “What about it?”

“Jumin is about to receive a copy of it. You must stop the mail!

“What are you talking about? Didn’t you…take care of it?” she fretted, her tone borderline hysterical as she lowered her voice. Not that she wanted to assume, but wasn’t that was Luciel did, hacking and destroying evidence?

“I did! I wiped the web clean of it and put bots to destroy any reuploads and—aaaaaaaaah never mind that now!! I was an arrogant idiot, okay? I never thought about the original copy! And now they found it and Jumin is about to receive it and see his cat die horribly and kill Elly and kill himself and—just STOP THE MAIL!

“Oh my god” murmured Jaehee, her knees going weak in shock. “Luciel, I’m sorry. I sent it to Mr. Han fifteen minutes ago.”


“Now for the mail” announced Jumin, carrying back a box full of parcels and letters in the office you were waiting in. “I’m expecting a sample of the fabric the Italian designer will use for your dress, my love—maybe this package?” he guessed, picking a small bubble envelope. “Here” he added, throwing you the strips of padded paper as he shredded it open, “do you want to play with it?”

You couldn’t have told what instinct warned you of the danger as the pieces fell to the floor. Beware, it said as Jumin sat down and frowned at a black DVD case, reading its label with growing confusion. “ ‘To watch with Elizabeth 3rd?’ Why would I do that? I don’t remember ordering us a video—”

His cellphone rang then, a shrill sound that was obviously reserved for the strictest emergencies, and you had no trouble recognizing the panicked tones of his assistant when he took the call. Mr. Han, open the door! This is an emergency! We’re under attack! she had said then, making you fear the worst; now she was shouting, screams that were trying too hard to sound calm and posed, and her words were freezing your blood cold.

“Mr. Han? I just got note of a horrible prank hidden in the mail I sorted for you. This is entirely my fault and I assume full responsibility for it! Would you mind not touching anything while I come to take it away?”

“What are you talking about, Assistant Kang?..” wondered Jumin, his puzzlement now bordering on annoyance. “What is it? Why are you so upset?”

“Nothing that matters, Mr. Han! It’s just important you don’t touch it! It would frighten Elizabeth 3rd very much! Is—is she with you, with any chance?..” she risked, and you mewled loudly in reply, ignoring the irritated look Jumin threw at you for acknowledging someone else. “Was that her? Elizabeth, can you hear me?” she screamed in earnest, using Jumin’s phone as a speaker. “Destroy it or get out of there! Get out—!! The line cut brutally as Jumin hung up, by now profoundly upset.

“I can’t believe she actually asked you to get away from me” he seethed in betrayal. “As if I would let you get hurt by a prank! Does she think me so stupid as to—”

He stopped, his frown deepening as the faint sound of another ringtone reached both your ears.

“Is that your cellphone?” inquired Jumin. His eyes were blackening, and you could feel his aura swell in fury. “Did you give your number to someone else while I was away? Who is it?

“I don’t know, Master. Maybe a wrong number” you replied, holding back your fright. You guessed it was the Defender though, which only meant one thing—

“Won’t Jumin Han find his real cat at some point, though?” you had asked the Defender in the guest room as he finished explaining his plan, but he had shaken his head. “Elizabeth 3rd is dead, and Jumin will never know about it, trust me—”

“…Master, won’t you give me the DVD?” you asked, fighting back your tears as your body started to tremble. “That…must be the prank, right? Since you didn’t order it. Please, Master, I’m afraid” you added in misery, extending your hand. You were suffocating, hallucinating visions of Jumin murdering you and throwing himself off the bay window right after. The world had become a nightmare in a blink, and you desperately wanted to wake up back in the cocoon of bliss you shared with him. And you would, as soon as you’d feel the disc crack in your palm—

“…What’s your name?” asked Jumin instead. His face had drained of all emotion into an unreadable mask of stone as he kept glancing at the DVD and your expecting hand, and your heart petrified in incertitude. Did he suspect something?… What should you tell him?

1) Tell Jumin your real name (jump to NORMAL END)
2) Tell Jumin your name is Elizabeth (jump to BEST END)


This is it, the choice between life and death, you thought in horror. Delusions were easy to maintain when there was no proof to shatter them, but now that he held one in his hands, could you really take such a big risk as to claim you were Elizabeth 3rd? What if he had figured it out or decided to watch it? Wouldn’t that make him angrier? Wasn’t it safer to fudge the truth into an acceptable compromise? What did Jumin want to hear? You couldn’t tell, and it was killing you.

“…that’s my name, Master. Or Eleanor. Or Esmeralda. Or Elizabeth 3rd” you replied at last, shaking like a leaf. “My name is whatever you want it to be, Master” you reminded him, grabbing his hand to nuzzle at his palm.

“I see” he replied a bit sadly, pushing the DVD away on his desk as he repeated your name a few times, as if to test it on his tongue. “It’s a pretty name…but I think Elizabeth 3rd suits you best” he decided. His hand slid down your throat to tip your chin up, and you looked up straight in his crazed eyes. “Wouldn’t you agree?” he asked, his question almost a dare.

“Yes, Master” was the automatic answer on your tongue, and Jumin smiled in satisfaction, bending down to kiss you.

“Don’t cry, Elizabeth. You’re such a good kitty. We’ll be happy together” he murmured against your mouth, an eerie smile floating on his lips.

For I love you, forever and ever.


This is it, the choice between life and death, you thought in trepidation. Your hesitation melted as the last two weeks flashed in front of your eyes. Being Jumin’s cat had become your life goal, and if he decided to watch the video to confirm his suspicions and kill you, it wouldn’t be because of your lack of commitment. You were going to win it all or lose it all; you wouldn’t accept a compromise, not even to stay alive. I love you, Jumin Han, you prayed internally, then dove in.

“What do you mean, Master?” you mewled in anguish. “Of course it’s Elizabeth 3rd!”

“Yes…yes, you’re right. For a moment I thought…” he glanced at the DVD case, then shook his head as if awakening from a bad dream. “But that’s foolish. How could I..? No, don’t make that face, my love” he cajoled, taking in your pouting lips and tearful expression. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Of course your name is Elizabeth 3rd! Here, you wanted this, didn’t you?” he offered, giving you the black case, and you crushed it instantly, not even looking at its pieces crumbling on the floor.

“Make love to me, Master. Right now” you whined like a child would request a candy to be consoled, tugging on his hand to bring him down as you rolled on your back and cradling his head closer as his mouth descended on your left breast. If Jaehee called again, you’d take the phone to tell her everything was alright—and tomorrow, you’d convince Jumin to take you against the bay window and hope those bastards saw you come at the top of the world.    

I’m Jumin’s pet. Forever and ever.