The Rice Cake Sharing Ritual (3)
"Ughhh……."
Something felt off. Since coming to this world, I'd endured countless disgusting things, but this ranked at the top.
Does this even make sense? Putting food inside your pussy...!
From eavesdropping on others, I learned that even when they received "pussy rice cakes," they didn't eat them. Ninety-nine percent tossed them straight in the trash. The reason was simple: no one ate rice cakes soaked in a filthy bitch's juices. It wasn't just about uncleanliness—the shock came from being called a "bitch" in the first place. Anyway, that's how it was. People here just wanted to see me humiliated. Otherwise, how could this be standard etiquette? Or maybe it was a trap—testing if I'd refuse this absurdity on the spot, then hauling me off. As someone with common sense like me, not a native, I'd never accept it, so perhaps they set this trap to catch outsiders.
Assuming it was a trap, how to break through? ...No choice but to go through with it.
I dressed fully and stood before Geon-yul. My lower belly felt stuffed, making my steps awkward. Loosen up even a little, and it might slip out—that made it worse.
"All set?"
"Y-yeah……."
"Feels weird, right?"
"Why ask? It's fucking awful."
"What kind?"
"Argh……."
I grimaced, desperately searching for words to describe the sensation. Normally, I'd snap at him to quit messing around, but this was too bizarre. I wanted to share it with someone.
"……Like a brooding hen."
"A hen? Where'd that come from?"
"Like carrying eggs? Never done it myself, so not sure, but that's the vibe."
"Hmm, no clue."
Probably just my imagination linking to those nature docs of birds laying eggs. I moved carefully, feeling the rice cake's texture inside, terrified of screwing up.
I opened the door and knocked on the neighbor's. The thug senior's room from last time. Noises inside after my knock—waiting silently in the hall felt eternal.
Hurry up and come out...!
Irritation built, then a crash inside—I held my breath. But a cheerful beep, the door opened, and the thug senior appeared. All worry vanished.
"Mmm, slurp... Master’s cock tastes so good……."
"I-I'm the balls! Master's morning ball sweat smells amazinggg……."
"Hey, you sluts! We have a guest!"
"Heheheh……."
Oh, right—bitch-accompanied dorms. Every room housed a male owner and his bitch girl. I'd forgotten.
Morning debauchery, seriously...?
Even accounting for that, the thug senior looked rough. His bitches seemed sex-obsessed idiots who couldn't clean—the place was a mess visible over his shoulder, and school time loomed, yet they weren't washed.
Those are real bitches...?
Meanwhile, the bitches ignored us, laser-focused on licking cock and balls like that was their life's purpose. Impressively devoted.
"Curious about them? Makes sense, your bitch-senpai too. Just senior-junior bonding."
"Haha, yeah……."
The thug senior swaggered, pointing at the dazed, face-buried bitches. Pink-tipped hair Bitch A and yellow-tipped Bitch B looked like the stray mutts from my childhood neighborhood—ears dyed for some reason.
"Whaddya think of the style? Try it on your bitch."
"……No thanks."
I agreed with Geon-yul. Black hair suited Koreans best. Anyway, could we hand off the rice cake quick?
"This one's Poppi. Massive tits and ass. The yellow one? Pippo—shitty body, but mouth and pussy skills are insane. Great picks."
"Their names are Poppi and Pippo? Nicknames, right?"
"Obviously. Forgot real names. They probably did too. What use is a bitch knowing her name?"
Staring at this oblivious thug, I felt despair and relief. Without Geon-yul, I'd be Bitch Class from day one—could've ended up with him. Forgetting your name, only recognizing cock scent? Horrifying.
I'd teased Geon-yul as a perv, resented him sometimes... but he was a saint. If born here as a bitch, hard to find better.
"Thanks……."
"Huh? For what?"
Geon-yul blinked in confusion; I just nodded vigorously. Disgusted, the thug got to the point.
"So, what's up? Not swapping, so here for that rice cake sharing I mentioned?"
"Yes. Three rice cakes in Chae-a's pussy right now. Neighbors want it their way—that's the rule. Whatever you like, Senior."
"Y-yes, se…… um."
I mimicked Geon-yul, starting a bow with "Senior," then clamped my mouth. He'd just clarified: he was Geon-yul's senior, not mine—his balls and cock-licking bitches were.
Respect that intent. World rules. I bit my lip.
"……Owners of the seniors."
"Right. Now pull it out. From that pocket down there."
Comparing womb—lover's fruit, child's path to world—to a "pocket" for goods.
Why'd trash land next door?
Cursing inwardly, I obeyed. Geon-yul patted my back supportively, hidden from view. He knew my pain best.
This ain't just boyfriend act.
No grudge. His encouragement oddly bolstered me. The guy barely seemed human—showing pussy or extracting rice cake wouldn't faze. Like stripping before bugs—no shame.
"Any special way?"
"Nah, basic. Drop in your owner's hand, give to me."
"Got it."
Deep breath, I lowered my plain white panties, hiked my short uniform skirt, spread legs slightly.
"Say your line first. Make it horny as fuck."
"L-line?"
Shaky eyes met Geon-yul's—steady like cheering a kid's first two-wheeler. I smiled back.
"Line ready."
"Go."
Easy. Erotica class once, plus porn/novel experience. Catering to this thug? Piece of cake.
"Ch-Chae-a's pussy-warmed honey rice cake, sirrr……!"
Hands spread plump pussy lips. Hole visibly winked. Couldn't see it myself, but Geon-yul and thug stared.
"Oh, oh... it's coming! Catch it!"
"Yes!"
Geon-yul cupped under my pussy. The hole clenched—then a small honey rice cake emerged.
This is so fucking weird!!
No egg-laying experience, but felt right. Pussy for cock, not this—only babies should come out. Me...?
Musing, the oily, juice-smeared cake plopped into Geon-yul's palm with a wet smack.
"Hah, hah……."
"Eat up?"
Panting post-extraction, they debated the cake.
"Crazy? You'd eat this? Bitch pussy, not even female class?"
"……Female pussy okay?"
"Think about it. Gimme."
Thug took it from Geon-yul—I flinched—but he didn't eat. Held to his bitches' noses for sniffing.
……More humiliating?
"Ew, smells nasty."
"Master's cock smells way better."
"Fucking idiots. Skip class, fuck all day. Toss this."
Plop! My "laid"... rice cake hit the trash. Odd feeling, but no show. Wanted out fast.
Thug vanished inside with armful bitches, door shut. Geon-yul and I stood silent.
"Went smooth, at least."
"Yeah, thought that psycho'd freak—turns out post-morning fuck sage mode."
"Creepy he acted like that in sage mode."
"Don't worry—if he touches you, I got you. Or add shock to your bitch collar?"
"……Tch."
I raised panties, poked mound secretly—then shuddered, realizing.
"Hey."
"What? School time."
"No. Two left."
"Two? Oh……."
Eyes met—we knew. Plenty left, time to first period. More cakes inside.
Visited diagonal neighbor too—repeated exact ritual twice more.
"……Hope no more of this."
"Same."
Geon-yul wiped palm—sticky with oil, pussy juice, fluids—with wet wipes as we headed to class.