Swallow Hunting

“Yep.”

The man propped his chin on his hand and tapped his own cheek with his index finger. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then crooked his finger, beckoning like he was calling a dog. Haejun almost jumped up right away—but since he hadn’t been fully forgiven yet, he crawled over on all fours instead.

“If you’ll just forgive me, I’ll do whatever you tell me to. Want me to pour you a drink, hyung?”

He curved his eyes into crescent moons and split his mouth into a wide grin, a look anyone else would call gentle and pretty, then knelt upright with his back straight. The exact posture of a student being punished.

“I’ve got no intention of forgiving you.”

It hit like a bolt from the blue. Just a second ago the vibe had been good—this wasn’t the time to argue that. Haejun grabbed the hem of the man’s pants and looked up at him.

“W-What? Ah, hyung, please. I’m begging you. Please spare me. I’ve got a mother at home who lives only for me—”

“The mother who died when Cha Haejun was five?”

“So, the mother who died when I was five—... huh?”

“You said you were good with your tongue. You’re terrible at lying.”

“.......”

His mouth fell open. The man knew his real name—and even his family situation, which only Yohan knew. That meant he’d already done a background check.

Haejun shrank back instinctively, trying to put distance between them. Immediately, his hair was seized. His head was yanked back by a merciless grip. It felt like every hair at the root was being ripped out.

“If you touch what belongs to someone else, it’s only right you receive a fitting punishment. That’s how society works, isn’t it, Cha Haejun.”

“I—I swear, ah—really, with noona Yeonghwa, we were—ah—completely blank—!”

The man flung Haejun aside. He hit the floor with a pathetic thud, like the tragic lead in a melodrama, then hurriedly straightened himself out. This is it, he thought. This is where I die. Tears blurred his vision, but there ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) was no time to wallow. All he could do was press his head to the floor and beg until his palms burned.

“Hyung, boss! I really didn’t do anything with noona Yeonghwa! Dying like this is so unfair! Th-that hotel, it was my first time there! I might be a trash bastard who sells his body, but I didn’t even touch noona Yeonghwa with a fingertip! I swear!”

His fear locked his brain, and the same lines spilled out on repeat. Haejun rubbed his hands together frantically. Even if the man killed him, if he slapped some compensation onto the Mic King loan, the money-hungry boss would shut his mouth. The only one who could save Haejun was Haejun himself.

The man stayed silent until Haejun finally lost steam and quieted down. With nothing left to say, Haejun just sniffled, face pressed to the floor.

In the suffocating silence, the man called, “Cha Haejun.”

Haejun shuddered like an executioner’s blade had touched the back of his neck.

“My mood’s fucking shit right now.” freeωebnovēl.c૦m

“I’ll do anything you want! Anything!”

“You said you’re good with your tongue?”

“Y-Yes! I am, hyung!”

This might be hope. Haejun nodded so hard his neck nearly snapped.

“Then use it.”

The man lazily spread his legs. In his hand was the glass he’d filled while Haejun was putting on his one-man show with his face on the floor.

Sniffling, Haejun glanced between the man’s face and his crotch. In this line of work, you survive by reading the room. The moment the man spread those thick thighs wide, Haejun understood why.

His eyes went wide—but the surprise vanished in a blink. If sucking one dick meant keeping his life, it was a bargain.

It wasn’t even his first time.

Once, when he’d shed the fresh rookie look and started reeking of rag status, a client had pointed at the host across the table and slapped down a check, saying he’d pay a million won if someone sucked that guy’s dick.

While everyone hesitated, wondering if it was really worth going that far, Haejun alone shot his hand into the air. He’d needed the money badly, and whether it was a woman or a man, it was the same equipment anyway. A million won wasn’t easy to earn—if all it took was sucking a dick, it was basically free money.

So he’d soothed his squeamish coworker and sucked like his life depended on it. When the client promised another million if he made him come, Haejun worked his tongue like a madman. Semen or pre-cum—he wasn’t stopping until something came out.

And he’d succeeded. People called him a money-crazed bastard, and the guy who got sucked had blushed and said shit like, “Hyung, that felt amazing. You’re really good. If you’re okay with it, maybe we could...” But Haejun’s pockets had been fat, so he could endure any humiliation.

This was no different. He rolled his tongue inside his mouth and lifted his upper body. But just before his hand touched the man’s thigh, he hesitated.

The lighting was dim, so it was hard to see clearly, but the outline already looked... prominent. Praying it’d be the size of a Vietnamese chili pepper, he slowly undid the belt. He reached for the zipper—

“Who told you to use your hands.”

From above Haejun’s head, the man tipped his glass. Amber liquid spilled down, soaking Haejun’s crown. It ran through his fine hair, over his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his lips.

It was meant to humiliate him, but if something like this bothered him, he wouldn’t have lasted long in this business. Haejun smiled faintly and licked the alcohol off his lips with the tip of his tongue. Straight liquor, no ice—just touching it made the harsh scent rush up.

“I’m sorry.”

If he could just drink a glass, he’d get a little buzzed and do better. Emptying his head would make the self-loathing easier to swallow.

But he didn’t have the guts to ask this man for a drink. He clenched the zipper between his teeth and bowed his head. When he pulled the underwear down, the length and thickness of the flesh that emerged, pushing through dense hair, were beyond anything he’d ever encountered. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

“.......”

Haejun blinked like a cow, staring back and forth between the man’s dick and his face. It wasn’t even hard yet, and it was bigger than most guys at full erection. The way it lay there, shamelessly heavy, was almost offensive.

At this size, shouldn’t it count as hard already? He couldn’t believe it. He almost wanted to grab it and inspect it from every angle like some newly discovered life-form.

It was so overwhelming that he didn’t even feel inferior as another man. This was a realm you couldn’t encroach on. He made his living with his dick too, and he was above average—but this... calling it “this” felt disrespectful. It deserved honorifics.

“Are you holding a ritual?”

The man now had a freshly poured glass in his hand. If he stalled, he’d get hit with a second liquor shower. Wondering if it’d even fit in his mouth, Haejun swallowed and pressed the tip of his tongue to the flesh. It tasted faintly salty, like skin, and didn’t smell.

Some people had little to no body scent. The man seemed like one of them. All Haejun caught was a vague whiff of cigarettes.

He slid his tongue down for a long while. It was so long the head was way down there. The glans itself was the size of a baby’s fist—enough to make women cry, and men too. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure insertion was possible. Everything had its limits. At this size, anyone might get fed up and run.

Distracting himself with idle thoughts, he finally took the head into his mouth. He pursed his lips and rubbed the urethra with his tongue. By now it should’ve gotten hard, but the man showed no reaction, just sipped his drink, boredom filling his eyes.

He lowered his head and scratched his forehead. The man seemed to be debating whether to let this continue—or choke Haejun out and find a different kind of fun.

“I... I could do better... if I used my hands....”

He murmured against the tip, afraid the man might decide to end him instead. After three furtive glances, the man clicked his tongue.

“Thought so.”

“Pardon?”

“Still not that great.”

“...Pardon?”

Then why tell me to suck it? While Haejun silently complained, the man set his glass down. Had he been forgiven, or had he simply lost interest? Haejun was about to grab at his pant leg and ask—but his chin was seized first. The man told him to open his mouth, saying “Ah.”

“Ah.”

A thumb shoved into his barely opened mouth. With four fingers, the man fixed Haejun’s small head in place and stirred his tongue with his thumb. Scraping his soft palate made Haejun flinch and let out a small moan.

The finger withdrew, soaked. Haejun’s tongue followed, stretched out with it. Tears welled in his reddened eyes.

The man stood, gripped his own dick, and pressed the head to Haejun’s open lips. At the same time, he hooked a finger into the corner of Haejun’s mouth and spread it wide.

“If you make this hard, I’m pulling it out.”

It was a chilling threat, delivered in a voice that made his spine go cold. When Haejun’s eyes widened, the man looked down at him and slowly shoved his dick in. Haejun didn’t have a small mouth. It was just that the man’s pre-erection size was enormous enough to crush his tongue and fill his mouth completely.

“If you do well, you won’t get hurt.”