The next morning, Tae woke to the sound of heavy footsteps and low voices downstairs. Her heart skipped a beat when she peeked from the bedroom doorway—Jungkook, Yoongi, and Namjoon were standing in the living room with suitcases, their casual clothes doing nothing to hide their muscular frames.

Sehun was nervously showing them around, pointing out the guest room. “This is yours for the week. Make yourselves at home,” he said, voice tight, his hand fiddling at his side.

Jungkook smirked at him. “A week, huh? You sure your wife can handle three of us filling her every day?”

Sehun’s ears went red, and he just nodded.

Tae felt her pussy pulse at the way they said it so casually, like she was already theirs.

She quickly busied herself in the kitchen, trying to act normal, pulling eggs, bread, and bacon from the fridge. Her tiny silk shorts clung to her ass, the hem riding up every time she bent over. She could feel their eyes on her.

By the time breakfast was ready, the men were seated at the dining table, chatting with Sehun. Tae set down the plates one by one, her cleavage spilling as she leaned forward.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Joon said, his hand casually sliding over her ass and giving it a firm squeeze.

She gasped softly, heat shooting through her belly.

Yoongi chuckled. “Damn, Sehun. You don’t mind us grabbing your wife like that?”

Sehun swallowed hard. “N-no… it’s fine.” His cock twitched at the humiliation, at the way they touched Tae right in front of him.

Tae blushed, lips parting, but her pussy clenched hard. She turned back toward the kitchen, only for Jungkook to smack her ass—loud, hard.

The sound echoed. Tae whimpered, almost dropping the pan in her hand.

“Fuck, it jiggles so nice,” Jungkook groaned, smirking at Sehun. “You’ve been keeping this perfect body all to yourself? No wonder you can’t handle her.”

Sehun’s face burned, but his cock strained against his pants, the humiliation only feeding his arousal.

They all started eating, but none of them kept their hands to themselves. Every time Tae passed by the table, one of them grabbed her tits, pinched her nipples through the thin fabric, or ran their hand up her thighs.

“Goddamn,” Yoongi murmured, tugging her top down just enough to expose more of her cleavage. “These tits are wasted on one man.”

Joon smirked at Sehun, licking his lips. “Don’t worry. Soon, we’ll make sure she knows what real cock feels like.”

Tae whimpered, knees weak, arousal dripping down her thighs. She glanced at her husband, expecting anger, but instead found him flushed, his cock visibly hard under the table.

“Oh my god,” she whispered breathlessly. “Sehun… you’re hard right now, watching them touch me?”

He nodded shamefully, his voice barely audible. “Yes, Tae…”

Jungkook laughed darkly. “So you like being humiliated, huh? You like watching your pretty wife get manhandled by men who can actually get hard for her?”

Tae’s cheeks burned, her pussy soaked, her body trembling. She couldn’t believe how much she was turned on—by the touches, the filthy words, the sight of her husband squirming while other men claimed her.

Yoongi leaned back in his chair, eyes dragging over her. “Soon, sweetheart, we’re going to split you open. Mouth, pussy, ass—every hole’s ours. And your husband’s going to sit there and watch while you scream for more.”

Her pussy clenched so hard she almost moaned out loud. She gripped the edge of the counter, her thighs pressing together desperately.

Sehun’s hand was under the table, stroking himself shamelessly now, his breath ragged.

And Tae realized with a shiver—this was only breakfast. Maybe after this, her real initiation would begin.