Chapter 1 || "Professor Kim: A victim. A Survivor. A Saint." || BOOK 2 OF PHOENIX IN HIS ARMS.

BOOK 2 OF PHEONIX IN HIS ARMS.

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Professor Kim: A victim. A Survivor. A Saint.

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As elegant and luxurious as ever, the Kim Mansion basked serenely under the golden brush of morning sunlight. Nestled amidst a sprawling estate framed by cherry blossom trees and manicured gardens, the grand structure gleamed like a crown jewel—its polished marble walls catching the first light of dawn with a quiet, timeless pride.

It was a picture of peace.

At least, it was supposed to be. until,

“KIM JUNGKOOKKKKKKKKKKK!”

The ear-splitting shout reverberated through the long hallways and across the courtyard, scattering birds from the hedges and making a few petals fall from the trees in fright. So much for peace.

Inside the mansion, the once-quiet morning erupted into the usual chaotic hustle that followed any day in which Kim Jungkook was awake before ten. Maids, dressed immaculately in crisp black uniforms and white aprons, moved briskly through the ornate corridors, balancing trays of silverware and baskets of fresh bread. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm butter filled the air, mingling with the distant echo of footsteps and muffled laughter.

In the garden, seated under a wrought-iron gazebo wrapped in ivy and blooming roses, the elder Kim couple—Mr. Kim and Mrs. Kim—sipped their morning tea with an air of indulgent detachment. Clad in linen and silk, the epitome of aging grace and elegance, they exchanged a glance over the rim of their porcelain cups.

They had heard the shout, of course. It was impossible not to. But they didn’t so much as flinch. After all, this wasn’t the first time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“I presume the usual?” Mrs. Kim mused softly, eyes still on her oolong tea.

“Undoubtedly,” her husband replied with a slight chuckle. “Our son-in-law will update us later, no doubt—with unnecessary details.”

They smiled knowingly and returned to the business of enjoying their tea—the real kind, brewed perfectly, served precisely at eight, and best sipped in silence.

Back inside the mansion, the staff had already resumed their duties with casual ease, unfazed by the uproar. A few of the senior maids exchanged amused glances as they arranged the long dining table with gleaming cutlery and folded napkins in the shape of swans.

“New maid,” whispered one of them, a sharp-eyed woman named Hana, nodding toward the girl standing near the kitchen entrance, her eyes wide with confusion.

“What was that voice?” the new maid asked hesitantly, cradling a basket of fresh herbs like a lifeline.

“Oh, you don’t know because you are new,” another maid, Minji, grinned while slicing fruit with practiced hands. “That’s normal in this household. You’ll get used to it. That was young master Jungkook—our resident brat.”

“He loves pranking everyone,” Hana added knowingly, “especially his husband, young master Taehyung. Be cautious. If you slip up even once, you might find yourself with rainbow-colored shampoo or glitter in your shoes.”

The new maid’s eyes widened further. Another maid who is working from just a month and have a rough idea about everything by now asked her doubt “But… isn’t it Sunday? Doesn’t he usually sleep till ten, according to their rule of breakfast at 10 on Sunday?”

“He should be sleeping till ten,” Minji said with a shrug, “but there are some rare days when he doesn’t, and it means he is planning something serious against someone. If he woke up early means someone is in trouble, like today. Mostly, he’s always late for breakfast. He probably enjoys the scolding too much.”

“Oh, he does,” chimed in another maid from the corner, giggling. “Especially the kind that ends with him being punished by young master Taehyung. You know—those long, sweaty workout sessions in the private gym as punishment? With master Taehyung monitoring every single rep personally?”

A ripple of laughter passed through the room.

“Isn’t that what young people call… a muscle kink these days?” someone whispered behind her hand.

“Yup,” Hana grinned. “And he’s got it bad. For his brat of a husband.”

The kitchen filled with snickers and light-hearted chuckles, a familiar rhythm of their morning gossip ritual. Amidst the laughter, a seasoned cook raised a brow as she stirred her soup.

“Well, it looks like young master Taehyung won’t be admiring those flexing muscles today. Seems like Jungkook’s already up and about, starting his morning with a bang—as usual.”

The new maid, now thoroughly intrigued, glanced toward the hallway with growing curiosity. So this was the famed Kim Mansion—the home not only of elegance and wealth, but of one very mischievous Jungkook and his dangerously patient husband, Taehyung.

She couldn’t wait to meet them.

While the kitchen filled with laughter and playful chatter, elsewhere in the mansion, a very different kind of sound echoed through one of its soundproof rooms.

Muffled sobs.

“...sniff... forty-five...”

Spank.

“...h-hiss... forty-six...”

Spank.

Jungkook’s voice wavered, broken and breathless. “F-forty-seven...”

Spank.

This time, harder than before. The sharp sound of it cracked through the room like a whip. Jungkook whimpered, flinching instinctively, his eyes welling with fresh tears as he twisted his fingers against the soft restraints holding him in place.

“Hyung... that hurts,” he managed in a fragile, trembling voice. “Please... I’m sorry... I won’t do it again...”

His tear-glazed gaze lifted to Taehyung, who sat calm, composed, but with eyes shouldering darkly. There was no trace of mercy on his face—only the cool, deliberate control of someone who knew exactly what he was doing, and exactly why he was doing it.

And yet, Jungkook couldn’t stop the heat from blooming in his chest. His butt cheeks stung from each strike, but beneath it all was a craving he couldn’t deny. He didn’t know when it started—maybe from the very first time Taehyung had punished him like this, looking every inch the dominant, no-nonsense husband that Jungkook secretly adored, pushing to his limit.

He was supposed to be ashamed of how much he liked it, how much he craved it. And yet, there he was—blushing, gasping, growing harder and even leaking over Taehyung’s black ironed pants he wore after taking a bath.

Taehyung noticed.

He always noticed.

A faint smirk tugged at his lips. “Stop imagining dirty things so early in the morning, baby,” he said, tone low and warning. “Because if I start acting on those thoughts, you won’t be making it to breakfast at all.”

Jungkook pouted, lips trembling as he mumbled barely above a whisper, “I’m not...”

But Taehyung heard it.

Spank.

The sound cracked sharply in the still air, and Jungkook hissed in pain. His hips jerked slightly at the sting, but he didn’t move far. He couldn’t—not with the silk tie looped tight around his wrists, binding him across Taehyung’s lap like a disobedient schoolboy.

Taehyung gently traced his fingers over the reddened skin, soothing the burn for a moment before leaning closer to whisper.

“You think I don’t know how much you enjoy this?” His voice was velvet and steel, dangerous and intimate. “You're such a needy thing for your hyungie. You love it when I punish you, don’t you? When I take control... fuck you raw and hard like some beast in heat? When I tie u up on my mercy and spank you hard? When I bend and fuck you on my office table without locking the door from inside? You love the pain and thrill, don’t you, baby? Such a kinky little thing you are. Intensely planning so you can get punished by me. Hmm?”

Jungkook bit his lip hard, cheeks glowing, too embarrassed to look Taehyung in the eye.

“Tied up, helpless, all mine to discipline,” Taehyung continued, his tone almost teasing. “Even now, you’re supposed to be counting... but you're too busy squirming and leaking rivers because you like being helpless under me.”

Jungkook’s breath caught. How did Taehyung always know?

“You deleted all my exam papers, Jungkook. I stayed up the entire night preparing them,” Taehyung reminded, raising a brow. “I think you were craving this.”

“...Sorry...” Jungkook murmured, cheeks flushed and heart pounding.

But the moment of reprieve ended with another swift spank across his skin, pulling him from his haze and drawing a sharp hiss from his lips.

“Keep counting,” Taehyung said firmly, voice colder now.

Jungkook blinked rapidly, the numbers muddled in his mind. “...F-forty-five?”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes. “Forty-five?”

Jungkook gulped, trying to recall, but everything had blurred in the haze of pain and pleasure. His lower lip trembled again as he looked at Taehyung with wide, watery eyes, silently pleading for forgiveness.

But Taehyung only chuckled darkly. “Since you don’t remember, you’ll start from the beginning again.”

“No, please—hyung—” Jungkook sniffled, panicked.

“Aww, my poor baby,” Taehyung cooed mockingly, brushing away a tear with the pad of his thumb. “I’m pitying you... But rules are rules, aren’t they? But don’t worry—I’ll end it after ten more. You’ve been a bad boy, but I had already sent the copy of those papers to the university to be printed out after completing it at night, I can’t take any risk because of a brat like you. Can I? And so, I’ll forgive you. Now count properly, alright?”

Spank.

“O-one...”

Spank.

“Ssss…T-two...”

“Good boy,” Taehyung murmured, a rare note of affection slipping through his commanding voice. “Hyung is proud of you. Now, continue.”

Spank.

“A-ah... th-three...”

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Click the link below for next chapter:

https://novelreadingislife.blogspot.com/2025/05/chapter-2-professor-kim-victim-survivor.html

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