Desires Chapter 8.3 - The Losing Game

Before the dawn broke, it was the darkest, most pitch-black hour of the morning.

Drunk on vodka and passed out all night on the bed, Song Yeongin was snoring lightly, finally slipping into sleep. His eyes, buried in the pillow, were red and pitifully wet.

Like a kitten exhausted from searching for its mother, Song Yeongin, worn out from crying, buried his face deeper into the soft pillow, his red nose tip longing for comfort. His intoxicated body was flushed, with a rosy blush spreading across his entire frame.

Through specially designed micro-needles, so fine they were barely perceptible, a drug flowed into the veins of his slender wrist. James Han was remarkably adept at administering the substance, as if the act were second nature to him.

“Forget the pain. Now you’ll dream pleasant dreams.”

Whenever Song Yeongin, broken and entranced, succumbed to periodic bouts of heavy drinking, James Han received secret reports from his subordinate, Aiden.

Without warning, in the late hours of the morning, James Han stealthily visited Song Yeongin’s bedroom. After all, the Montauk Heather Woods villa belonged to him, and no one could obstruct this secretive intrusion.

‘ETDR’ was a top-tier drug, possessed only by a select few elite individuals even in America, the land of narcotics.

Developed from the general anesthetic Etomidate, this sexual stimulant caused no harm or side effects to the body and carried no psychological dependency, unlike Propofol, a type of intravenous anesthetic. Unlike some drugs, it didn’t lower blood pressure, eliminating the risk of hypotensive shock. It was a novel substance.

ETDR was a dream drug, simultaneously satisfying high-quality sleep and physiological sexual desire.

After administration, it provided restful sleep, pleasant sexual hallucinations, and arousal within a short time, leaving a fantastical afterimage of sexual pleasure upon waking, as if from a dream. When shaking off the haze and rising from bed, the body felt relaxed, having experienced the release of ejaculation and the refreshment of sleep, leaving only a sense of clarity and relief.

It was in this very house that James Han’s thirteen-year-old autistic daughter, Chloe, had taken her own life.

Having witnessed Chloe’s final moments, James Han, as if by a lie, abandoned his debauched, shamelessly reckless sexual lifestyle and drug-addled debauchery.

The consequences of his drug abuse and hedonistic lifestyle, which had persisted since his teenage years, were devastating. James Han received the verdict that he could no longer biologically father children.

After losing Chloe, the only blood relative he had left in the world, and suffering the physiological emasculation caused by the side effects of his reckless drug abuse, James Han became impotent, as if his sexual desires had been castrated.

Severe sleep disorders plagued him, and though he could achieve an erection, his loss of function rendered ejaculation impossible, forcing him to abandon any lingering attachment to the pleasure of conventional sex.

Ironically, after becoming impotent, James Han became obsessed with collecting art and masterpieces, a hobby inspired by thoughts of his art-loving daughter.

After losing his potency, James Han found release for his sexual desires and the pleasure of ejaculation, which he could no longer achieve, through ‘ETDR.’

Upon waking, his body would unconsciously relax, having reached climax in the hallucinations of sleep, allowing him to experience the physiological ejaculation that had previously been impossible. The refreshed and invigorated feeling optimized his physical condition.

…Over the past year.

Song Yeongin, like James Han when he lost Chloe, suffered from severe sleep disorders, unable to fall asleep easily, and relied excessively on alcohol like an addict.

“…I miss you…”

“…I’m hurting… Please hold me…”

From Song Yeongin’s restless lips, intoxicated and unconscious, the name Cha Woojin spilled out repeatedly…

Through his fevered breaths and childish pleas for comfort, James Han could discern that Song Yeongin longed for Cha Woojin and his body with every fiber of his being.

James Han wanted to give Song Yeongin a gift.

Though past his prime and impotent at an age beyond forty, James Han felt his body surge with uncontrollable sadistic urges and perverse desires whenever he saw this beautiful creature, whose strangely pure sensuality sent shivers through a man’s limbs. Yet, there was something contradictory and paradoxical about the emotions James Han harbored.

Like the protagonist in a Gustave Moreau painting, perfectly crafted, James Han desired to cherish and possess this boy, a living work of art, as he did his prized masterpieces, without damaging him. At the same time, the greedy carnal lust, sadistic urges, and perverse desires that surged like a beast within him were irreconcilable contradictions that could not coexist.

Like the sins of his past, James Han did not want to destroy this boy as he had Chloe. He did not want to harm or wound him. He did not want to lead this frail, delicate boy to ruin.

James Han was impotent. He could not engage in conventional ejaculation or intercourse. Thus, he did not desire penetrative sex or copulation with this boy.

He simply wanted to leisurely observe Song Yeongin… this living, breathing work of art, indulging in his depraved sensuality and uncontrolled sexual arousal.

Song Yeongin recoiled in disgust every time James Han so much as touched him, vehemently rejecting any contact. Their agreement, which stipulated that even a single touch would void their contract, remained in effect, so Song Yeongin must never realize that James Han was indulging in this perverse voyeurism.

After administering the drug into his veins, James Han began unbuttoning Song Yeongin’s clothes one by one. When he finally removed the pure white underwear, he started, as if performing a ritual, to leisurely observe the naked Song Yeongin beside him. James Han’s lascivious eyes, heavy with uncontrollable lust, curved greedily.

He could never forget the first day he had stripped this boy bare before him.

The body, with its delicate and beautiful bone structure, was so exquisite that it transcended gender, appearing as a sublime work of art whether viewed by a woman or a man.

His skin, as transparent and smooth as a child’s, was flawless, without a speck of imperfection. His body hair was so faint it was barely visible, if present at all.

His small, delicately crafted, alluring face; his long, slender neck; the elegantly extended collarbone; and the straight, beautiful shoulders that evoked paternal instincts. His slim, lithe waist flowed into voluptuous hips, creating a strikingly lascivious and sensual contrast. His plump, smooth thighs and exceptional legs were breathtaking. Even his genitals, red and seductive, were pure and beautiful.

“Haha. How is it that even a dirty cock can be this pretty?”

It was astonishing to feel the urge to suck another man’s cock. The nearly invisible body hair and delicate genitals, when aroused, were impossibly seductive. The flushed tips, glowing red as if deliberately painted, resembled flower petals against his transparent skin.

Soon, the drug took effect, and Song Yeongin’s body began to quiver with arousal. James Han buried his face in Song Yeongin’s white chest, sucking on the red, erect nipples. As he lasciviously worked his tongue, Song Yeongin began to tremble prettily, like a blushing bride.

Beside Song Yeongin, James Han gripped his own genitals and masturbated. But his impotent, erect organ still could not achieve proper ejaculation.

With a sly grin, James Han brought his mature, wrinkled eyes close to Song Yeongin’s face. He pressed his face against the small, beautiful one and unleashed a ravenous kiss, messily entwining their tongues.

There was no act more satisfying to James Han than ravaging and plundering that delicate, divine, and pure face with his thick tongue, defiling it with lascivious kisses.

By merely touching Song Yeongin’s red, delicate genitals as if to comfort them, James Han felt his abnormal, perverse desires miraculously subside.

“Ugh… Nngh… Hnngh…!”

From those red, full lips spilled pretty breaths and moans that could melt a man’s senses. Occasionally, James Han imagined thrusting his cock into the lasciviously gaping hole, but he did not want to go further and harm or ruin this boy.

James Han used his thick fingers to probe the pretty, quivering hole that Song Yeongin, unable to control his body in arousal, left exposed. The soft, beautiful, lascivious body grew wet, convulsing lewdly like a cat in heat.

For several instances now, these periodic voyeuristic acts and depraved games had provided James Han, impotent as he was, with unparalleled pleasure and amusement.

However, occasionally, the name spilling from Song Yeongin’s lips as he wandered in unconsciousness, lost to reason, would sour James Han’s mood.

“…Nngh. Hnngh…! Woo… Jin…! Cha Woojin…”

James Han pressed his ravenous, thick tongue against those cherry-like lips, violently ravaging the mouth that called for another man in its sleep-talk.

“Hnngh… Ugh… Hnnh…!”

The pretty breaths that could drive even a sane man mad flowed precariously from those full lips. James Han aimed his phone camera at the quivering, red hole.

“Yes. To Cha Woojin, whom Mr. Song Yeongin misses so much… I’ll send this image of you, aroused like a cat in heat, right now.”

Recording Song Yeongin writhing in arousal and sending it to Cha Woojin was the climax and ultimate thrill of this game. James Han was gripped by exhilarating, intense excitement, intoxicated by the overwhelming sense of victory.

Watching Cha Woojin fall into ruin while observing his wretched defeat, jealousy, rage, and humiliation was the true climax of this game.

James Han pressed the send button for the video.

“Cha Woojin, you arrogant little brat…! Go ahead, jerk off in Korea after seeing this. In the end, it’s me, not you, who possesses this beautiful masterpiece.”

Drunk on irrational lust and petty competitive desire, James Han tasted an extreme pleasure and climax that even drugs could not satiate.

In the narrow confines of Korea’s high society, Cha Woojin was absurdly treated as an idol, admired and revered by all. The refined ladies and debauched gay men of that society were desperate to sleep with him. To James Han, the youthful vigor and sexual allure radiating from Cha Woojin, the young emperor treated as a king among them, was nothing but repulsive hypocrisy.

The sense of inferiority toward that arrogant, perfect male specimen… James Han could not even imagine that it stemmed from his own sordid insecurities due to his sexual impotence.

“Song Yeongin… You’re truly beautiful…”

More beautiful than any painting or masterpiece in his private gallery was the depraved face of this boy, marked by sensuality and arousal, and the lascivious body writhing and moaning like a seductress. Song Yeongin was a living work of art, a masterpiece in itself.

“Yes, there’s not a single part of you that isn’t beautiful. No wonder that arrogant, perfect male is driven mad by someone like you, frantically trying to take me down.”

James Han wanted to cherish and treat this beautiful, rare masterpiece with the utmost care.

Carefully, James Han wiped the saliva-soaked lips and red nipples, glistening from his ravenous sucking, with gauze soaked in odorless disinfectant.

Like a perfect crime, James Han left no trace. Song Yeongin must never discover this perverse, shameless act.

From the soft, angelic breaths of the sleeping boy, James Han was reminded of his young daughter, Chloe, sleeping like an angel. He absolutely did not want to destroy the sacred, pure innocence in Song Yeongin’s eyes.

Through this boy, James Han had to keep meeting his daughter Chloe, who had been ruined within him.

— After her passing, everything was handled perfectly and cleanly.

Aiden completed his report over the phone to James Han, who was returning to his Manhattan residence.

“How is Song Yeongin doing?”

— Even when I knock on the door, every time Yeongin wakes up from sleep, he does not come out of the bathroom until daybreak.

“…….”

— The sound of running water can be heard all night. It seems he pathologically washes his body over and over again.

“There weren’t any circumstances or strange signs that he might have noticed, were there?”

— There were not. Just as the main symptoms of ETDR suggest, it seems he thinks he simply had a strange dream and a wet dream. Still, after that drug is injected, he seems to be freed from the pain of his sleep disorder and does not seek alcohol for a few days.

“Look here. Aiden. I do not want that child to get hurt. If that child finds out this fact, he might attempt suicide like Chloe did.”

— …….

“Aiden…. You, who have watched over that child for a year, must understand how I feel. So… together, we must beautifully protect that lovely child so that he does not get hurt.”

— …….

“Song Yeongin must never find out. Take responsibility for the clean-up perfectly and destroy the evidence.”

— Yes…. I understand.

Aiden tried his best to hide the devastating guilt that was embedded in his voice from his boss.

Periodically deceiving that pure and clear-souled child had become an indelible guilt and a cruel torment for Aiden. The seeds of guilt for participating in immoral greed and a deep self-reproach for the injustice were taking root and growing deep within Aiden’s heart as well.