Chapter 1 - Control ft. Jiminjeong
Jiminjeong Karina x Winter (Minjeong) Word Count : 1.4k - Chapter 1 "The Gala's Secret Pulse"
The gala’s crystal chandeliers cast a dizzying prism of light over the crowded ballroom, but all Minjeong could focus on was the low, insistent hum against her inner thigh. It was a phantom pulse, a secret heartbeat known only to her and the woman watching her from across the room.
Karina stood near the marble column, a sleek silhouette in an onyx gown that seemed to drink the light. She held a champagne flute casually, her smile a cool curve as she listened to the balding CFO from Lee Holdings drone on. Her thumb, Minjeong noted with a shuddering breath, rested idly on the small, matte-black remote in her palm.
Buzz.
A gentle vibration, level two. A reminder. A promise. Minjeong’s fingers tightened around her own glass of mineral water. She had to be sharp tonight. She was the linchpin, the lure. She offered a polite, professional smile to the young tech executive who had been hovering near the shrimp tower for the last ten minutes, his eyes repeatedly darting to the neckline of her emerald green dress.
“The synergy between our cloud infrastructure and your AI models is undeniable, Mr. Park,” Minjeong said, her voice steady despite the warmth pooling low in her belly. She crossed her legs, the silk of her dress whispering, the movement pressing the small, egg-shaped device more firmly against her.
“Please, call me Jaehyun,” he insisted, leaning in. His cologne was overpowering. “Your analysis on the quarterly projections was… insightful.”
It was the analysis Karina had dictated to her this afternoon, while Minjeong was on her knees under the desk, her mouth otherwise occupied. The memory alone made her cheeks flush. Karina’s voice, calm and authoritative over the speakerphone with a client, while her other hand fisted in Minjeong’s hair…
Buzz-buzz.
Level three. A sharper pulse. Minjeong’s breath hitched, a tiny, almost imperceptible sound. Jaehyun Park mistook it for interest. He stepped closer, his shoulder brushing hers. “Perhaps we could discuss the details over a proper drink? Somewhere more private?”
From her pillar, Karina’s gaze sliced through the crowd and pinned Minjeong in place. She gave the barest, most elegant tilt of her head. Proceed.
“My evening is quite accounted for,” Minjeong demurred, letting her gaze drop to Jaehyun’s mouth for a fraction of a second before looking away, a classic show of flustered interest. “But I’m sure Ms. Yoo would be pleased to schedule a follow-up. Your offer is certainly the most… stimulating we’ve heard tonight.”
Bzzzzzzzt.
Level four. A sustained, teasing vibration that made Minjeong’s knees feel weak. She pressed her thighs together, a desperate, hidden motion. The pleasure was a live wire, sparking under her skin. She was acutely aware of every brush of fabric, every point of contact. Jaehyun was puffing his chest out, emboldened. Another executive, from the rival Choi conglomerate, was now watching their exchange with keen interest. The game was in motion.
Karina finally extricated herself and glided over, the crowd parting for her effortlessly. “Mr. Park,” she said, her voice a velvet blade. “I see you’ve found my most valuable asset.” Her eyes flicked to Minjeong, holding a universe of possession. “Don’t monopolize her. We must share.”
She placed a hand, cool and heavy, on the small of Minjeong’s back. It was a brand. A claim. The vibration ceased abruptly, leaving a shocking, aching emptiness. Minjeong almost whimpered at the loss.
The next hour was an exquisite torture. Karina played them all, Jaehyun, the Choi executive, a nervous venture capitalist, like a master conductor. With a smile, she would send Minjeong to fetch a specific document, knowing the walk across the open floor in her heels, with the constant threat of the vibrator’s return, was its own ordeal. With a pointed comment, she’d force Minjeong to lean over the table to point out a clause in a contract, the position straining her dress and her composure. Each time Minjeong returned to her side, Karina’s hand would find her back, her waist, her arm, a casual touch that sent fire through Minjeong’s veins.
Finally, Karina announced their departure with a regal air. The executives were left competing over who had made the best impression, completely unaware the real prize had never been on the table.
The silence of the private elevator was deafening. The doors slid shut, sealing them in a mirrored box. Minjeong leaned against the wall, her composure crumbling. Her chest heaved. Karina didn’t look at her. She simply lifted the remote.
BUZZZZZZZZZZZ.
Level eight. A brutal, immediate onslaught. Minjeong cried out, her head thunking back against the mirror. Her hands flew to the wall for support as her legs buckled. The vibration was no longer teasing; it was a demand, a direct line to the core of her need. It rattled her teeth, blurred her vision.
“You were perfect,” Karina murmured, finally turning. She watched Minjeong unravel with dark, hungry eyes. “Every smile, every blush. You had them eating from your hand, and they never knew you were eating from mine.”
She advanced, the remote held steady. Minjeong was panting, little desperate sounds escaping her lips. She was so close, teetering on a razor’s edge, the public tension coiling into a private, screaming need.
The elevator chimed. Penthouse level.
Karina killed the vibration as the doors opened, and Minjeong slumped, gasping. Before she could recover, Karina had a fistful of her hair, guiding her firmly out of the elevator and across the dark, spacious living room towards the master suite. She pushed Minjeong through the door, following close behind.
“On the bed. On your back. Now.” The command was guttural, all pretense of the polished CEO gone. This was her Domme, her keeper, the woman who owned her nights.
Minjeong scrambled onto the vast bed, the duvet cool beneath her feverish skin. Karina followed, kneeling over her, one knee on either side of Minjeong’s hips. She didn’t touch her yet. She just looked down, drinking in the sight of her secretary, flushed, disheveled, dress ridden up, utterly exposed and wanton.
“All night,” Karina said, her voice low. “All night you belonged to them, and yet you were utterly mine. Do you know what that does to me?” She didn’t wait for an answer. Her hands, finally, found Minjeong’s breasts, cupping them through the silk, thumbs circling her nipples which were already hard peaks. The touch was electric after the hours of remote torment.
Minjeong arched into it, a moan tearing from her throat. “Karina… please…”
“Please what?” Karina leaned down, her lips a breath from Minjeong’s ear. “Use your words, kitten. You’ve been so quiet all evening.” One hand slid down, over Minjeong’s trembling stomach, past the waistband of her lace panties. She didn’t go for the vibrator, still nestled in place. Her fingers found the soaked, swollen flesh beneath it. Minjeong jerked, a sharp cry escaping her.
“Tell me what you want,” Karina commanded, her finger tracing slick, maddening circles around Minjeong’s clit, avoiding direct contact.
“I want… I need you to touch me. Really touch me. Please, I can’t ” a gasp cut off Minjeong’s plea as Karina finally, blessedly, slid a finger inside her. It was a deep, slow penetration that made Minjeong see stars. Her hips rolled, seeking more.
Karina added a second finger, the stretch exquisite. She began a slow, devastating rhythm, her thumb now applying perfect pressure on Minjeong’s clit. “You need this, don’t you?” she breathed, watching Minjeong’s face contort in pleasure. “You need to come after being my good little toy all night.”
“Yes! God, yes, I need it, I need you ” Minjeong babbled, her world narrowing to the feeling of Karina’s hand moving inside her, the weight of her body, the smell of her perfume mixed with arousal. The coiled spring from the gala was snapping, violently, wonderfully. Karina’s pace increased, her fingers curling, finding that spot that made Minjeong’s back bow off the bed. The pleasure was a cresting wave, huge and inevitable. Minjeong clutched at the duvet, her cries growing louder, unabashed.
“Come for me,” Karina ordered, her own breath growing ragged. “Come for your Mistress. Show me what I own.”
The command shattered the last of Minjeong’s control. The orgasm ripped through her, a silent scream breaking into a raw, broken wail. It convulsed through her, wracking her body, pulling Karina’s fingers deeper as she clenched around them. Sparks danced behind her eyelids, the intensity magnified a thousandfold by the hours of denied, public teasing.
As the tremors began to subside, Karina slowly, gently, withdrew her fingers. She brought them to her own mouth, her eyes locked on Minjeong’s dazed ones, and slowly sucked them clean. The act was more possessive, more intimate, than anything that had come before.
She leaned down again, her lips brushing Minjeong’s sweat-damp temple. “Mine,” she whispered, the word a final, definitive seal.
