EPISODE 4: TRACES OF ECSTASY
1337 Words
PART 1: THE PENTHOUSE
The steam-filled bathroom, mirrors fogged. Lee Hwui Soe stood under the shower, water washing away the remnants of last night and the wounds on his hands. He wrapped the cuts with bandages from the first aid kit.
" She screamed. " Soft, then rough, then broken. "Her voice shattered at the peak—like cracking glass." He turned off the water, fists pressed against the marble wall. Eyes closed, he could still hear Park Cho Sung’s trembling breaths in his ears.
"Too... fast."
Through the glass door, he glimpsed her sleeping form— a curved body swallowed by black satin sheets. He picked up her discarded glasses and placed them on the nightstand.
Then, abruptly, he left.
"Prepare my drafting room. Don’t disturb me until I come out."
PART 2: LEE HWUI SOE 'S HOUSE – THE DRAFTING ROOM
A windowless space, walls lined with architectural sketches. A wooden table cluttered with charcoal and tracing paper. His damp fingers smudged the paper as he began to draw silhouettes of Park Cho Sung at the penthouse door, her oversized raincoat like bat wings.
"The scent of rain on her skin. Sweat at the nape of her neck. How that ratty sweater slipped off one shoulder..."
His pencil snapped while shading the lines of a building. His mind filled with visions—her fogged glasses, her cries when he first entered her.
"She writhed like a fish in a net—sweet and desperate."
He sketched furiously, the room dissolving into imagined scenes: her plain white undershirt, gray sweatpants sliding down, revealing untouched thighs. He bit his pencil, adjusting his belt with a growl—
"Did you wear them on purpose?"
Close-up of Park Cho Sung’s open mouth, tongue caught between teeth, tears streaking her temples. He smudged the sketch with his thumb, blurring staircases and walls.
"Why... do you look most beautiful when suffering?"
He erased, redrew, erased again.
Seven hours. Seven sketches.
At 5:30 AM, he slumped into his chair. His phone screen showed a stolen photo—Park Cho Sung asleep, face still damp with tears. His fingers shook, zooming in on the bite marks along her neck.
He dialed.
"Hello, Ajuma. Have breakfast at the penthouse. Something good. A precious girl is sleeping there." A pause. "Keep it quiet. Clean up gently—don’t wake her."
The morning light touched the pile of sketches—buildings that were, in truth, Park Cho Sung’s face in every helpless expression.
Lee Hwui Soe threw himself onto the sofa and laughed bitterly.
"This contract might last six months? A week? I’ll lose interest again by then."
The lavish bedroom was bathed in morning light seeping through heavy curtains. Park Cho Sung awoke to a body throbbing with pain.
"Agh... it hurts... what did he do to me last night?" Her vision swam, ears ringing—from helicopters or the penthouse's hum, she couldn't tell. Growing the nightstand, her trembling hands found her glasses missing.
"He... left?" Her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.
Wrapping herself in the black satin sheet—still reeking of wine and Lee Hwui Soe's musk—she staggered to the full-length mirror.
The reflection was brutal:
Neck and chest: A constellation of purple bites and bruises
Hips and inner thighs: Red, swollen like bee stings
Wrists: Raw marks from satin restraints
"I look... like a victim." Her tears fell, tracing the dried streaks on her thighs.
PART 3: THE SHOWER
Steam fogged the glass as Cho Sung curled on marble tiles, scalding water hitting wounded flesh. She bit her fist to stifle whimpers.
"He skipped aftercare on purpose... wanted me to remember every second of pain." Flashbacks of his teeth at her throat, his whisper: "I want you to feel this tomorrow morning."
Dressed only in a plain white bra and loose cotton pants (no underwear), she found her favorite ragged sweater gone—likely kept as a trophy. Only his oversized white shirt remained, smelling of sandalwood.
"Bastard... even my clothes are under his control." She pulled it on, her cheeks burning.
An ajumah bustled in the gourmet kitchen, serving miyeok-guk—seaweed soup for recovery.
"Breakfast is ready, miss! Special soup for you~"
"Where... is Lee Hwui Soe?"
"Oh, the Master returned home. Said he had ideas in his drafting room."
Her grip turned knuckle-white on the table edge.
"Drafting room?! After destroying me, he's off sketching?!"
Her phone buzzed on the sofa where he'd sat last night.
KB STAR BANK:
+1,500,000,000 KRW (Lee Hwui Soe)
Memo: First night.
Knees buckled. She slid to the floor, hand muffling hysterical laughter.
"1.5 billion... for my virginity? I'm cheaper than his wall art!"
Her reflection in a silver spoon—puffy face, swollen eyes. She nearly threw it, but her stomach growled violently. Shoveling soup into her mouth, she devoured it like vengeance.
Standing abruptly, she met the ajumah's gaze with fire in her eyes:
"Tell your boss... next week's price doubles."
She left the penthouse walking like a cowboy, each step a reminder of last night's conquest.
PART 4: SECRET CONTROL ROOM – LEE HWUI SOE'S HOUSE
A dark room with 12 monitor screens. Each screen displays a different angle of the penthouse. Lee Hwui Soe sits in a black leather chair, his fingers dancing over the control panel.
CCTV 1: Park Cho Sung wakes up with a pained expression, his hands fumbling over the crumpled black satin sheets. Lee Hwui Soe smiles as he watches.
CCTV 2: His swollen feet touch the cold floor, his body trembling as he stands. Lee Hwui Soe observes intently.
CCTV 3 (Close-up): Tears stream down his face as he sees the bite marks in the mirror. Lee Hwui Soe touched the screen where Park Cho Sung’s tears had fallen, whispering in a low voice:
"You’re more beautiful when you cry..."
He replays last night’s footage—images of Park Cho Sung untying his tie, then slowly removing his shirt, leading to their entanglement on the black satin sheets, ending with Lee Hwui Soe leaving Park Cho Sung exhausted and asleep.
PART 5: THE WATCHED SHOWER
CCTV 4: Park Cho Sung steps into the shower, his figure blurred behind the fogged glass. Lee Hwui Soe zooms in, his pupils dilating, then whispers:
"Look at how you scrub away the marks I left… as if you could erase me from your skin."
He hits the record button as Cho Sung curls up on the shower floor, hands covering his shattered face.
Lee Hwui Soe strokes the screen and says softly:
"I know every inch of your body now. Even you’ve never seen the bruises on the inside of your thighs like this."
CCTV 5: The housemaid serves miyeok-guk (seaweed soup). Park Cho Sung asks about Lee Hwui Soe. Lee Hwui Soe smirks while sipping his 8 a.m. coffee:
"Of course you’re looking for me… after experiencing what it’s like to be completely owned."
He switches the camera to the drawer where the maid keeps the receipts—"The master ordered a special recovery soup for 'someone’s first time'."
CCTV 6 : Park Cho Sung sees the transfer of 1.5 billion won, then glances at his reflection in the spoon before devouring the food ravenously. Lee Hwui Soe lets out a short laugh:
"Hunger overpowers your anger… LOL. Anger is better than fear."
He sends a screenshot of the transfer to the penthouse’s wall monitor with a message:
"Wait until this project is done. I want to see if my bite marks have faded to yellow… or if I should add fresh ones."
Lee Hwui Soe chuckles darkly.
CCTV 7: Cho Sung leaves the penthouse with a limp, wearing Lee Hwui Soe’s shirt. Lee Hwui Soe bursts into laughter, touching the screen where Park Cho Sung declares that Lee Hwui Soe must pay double.
"You’ll come back… because now you’re addicted to the pain I give you."
His hand opens a drawer, pulling out a flash drive labeled "Park Cho Sung – Night 1."
- Writer
