The Lecherous Magistrate Arrives
After utterly shattering Mother's chastity with that one thrust, things stayed quiet for a while.
"Who would've thought a single fuck would leave her bedridden like this."
Having suddenly put unused muscles through such vigorous exercise by getting pounded by her son, Mother spent the whole day laid up with a fever. It was a blessing in disguise that I could chalk up the lingering awkwardness in her body to the illness, but it wasn't what I'd hoped for. My goal had been to plant a sense of unease in her—that something strange was happening. Instead, I'd only muddled things a bit.
After that, I didn't thrust into her anymore, but I steadily continued her conditioning with Monghwancho. I'd fondle her erogenous zones for thirty minutes to build up her frustration, or leave her mouth stuffed with my cock so she'd grow accustomed to its smell and taste—subtle, insidious training like that.
"Phew~ As the air turns crisp, the work's not half bad."
Fall, with its reddening leaves, was far better for physical labor than the sweltering late summer heat. The clear, lofty sky stretched wide, a sight to behold, but my mind was entirely occupied with thoughts of how I'd condition Mother today.
"Hey, you hear the news?"
To stockpile herbs for winter, folks including me had started frequenting the Herbalist Elder's house. One of the men sitting clustered together trimming sorted herbs suddenly spoke up, saying a new magistrate was coming to our village soon.
He's here.
It was the news I'd been waiting for.
"But the reputation of this new magistrate ain't good at all."
"How bad?"
The tales about the magistrate matched my expectations exactly. The epitome of a corrupt official—power-hungry, money-grubbing, lecherous. Nothing good came up. The listeners' faces soured.
"Aigoo. Tsk. What kinda bastard ends up in our little village?"
"Heard it's exile. Rumor has it he got caught sleeping with some high official's wife and got demoted to this backwater post."
"And they didn't execute the scum?"
"He's from a prominent family, so the worst they could do was ship him off here for 'reflection.' Anyway, best to stay cautious for a while."
I didn't know if that was true, but it sure fit. I quietly trimmed herbs, ears open, playing the part of the harmless, filial young man with utmost diligence.
Then someone poked my side with a warning. "Jeong Yun, your mother's doing well, I hope?"
"Mother's just as she always is."
With her stunning figure, refined beauty, and flawless gentle nature, Mother—Jeong Hyang—was perfection incarnate.
"This new magistrate coming in... Kim Man-gyeom, was it? Kim something. Better make sure he doesn't set eyes on your mother."
"No way. Even a lecher wouldn't stoop to forcing himself on a quiet widow living alone without a husband."
"That's exactly why it's worrying. No one to help her, and if he frames her unjustly, even filing a complaint would be tough."
The man giving me his "concern" was clearly pretending to worry while sucking up to me in hopes of scoring points with Mother later. Another onlooker clicked his tongue and shut him down. "What bullshit. Can't you tell what's appropriate to say in front of a kid? Shut your trap."
"Hey... I was just worried, that's all. And Jeong Yun's a grown man now. If anything, you're the one treating him like a child!"
"What?!"
The crowd pulled them apart before it turned into a real fight. Even before the magistrate arrived, his shadow loomed large over our tiny village.
Back home after work, I brought up the magistrate rumors over dinner.
"Hmmm. Is that so."
To Mother, who'd lived a life of unwavering integrity, a vile creature like the magistrate was beneath notice. They were like water and oil—never mixing. Her pure mind couldn't even imagine how depraved he was, hence the tepid response. Their worldviews were worlds apart. A simple, innocent woman like her could never fathom a man casually dragging off an innocent housewife for his pleasure.
Can't wait till the magistrate arrives.
I was dying to see what face this prim and proper woman—who even ate so neatly—would make when dragged to his chambers against her will.
The day the new magistrate arrived, throwing the village into a tizzy.
"More people than I expected."
"Don't they have anything better to do? Why crowd around like this."
Our usually quiet, sleepy village buzzed like a marketplace. Sure enough, vendors hawking snacks to the throng made it feel just like market day.
Mother and I were among them, munching on snacks to kill time.
"Can't wrap my head around folks gathering just to glimpse the new magistrate's face."
"New face in the village—good or bad, it's exciting, right?"
His poor reputation was already infamous. Still, some came to curry favor with an official, others just for a peek, and more out of plain curiosity—motives varied.
No one here shares my thinking, though.
The real reason I'd dragged Mother here was to get her in the magistrate's sights ASAP. Bored with this remote backwater, he'd soon chase skirts. I just wanted to shorten his fruitless search.
"Mother, have another honey rice cake."
"Very well."
I popped one into her mouth, and like a baby bird taking feed, she accepted it naturally. The old Mother would've scolded me for my impropriety, but the Monghwancho conditioning had wrought subtle changes in her behavior and thinking. Like this newfound dependence on her son.
Night after night, I'd hold her close, stoking her body till frustration built, then leave her desperate. Since I held the reins and wouldn't let her climax without begging, she'd grown used to pleading with me—her own son—for relief.
It's adorable when she occasionally wonders why she's acting that way.
Even now, she unconsciously took the rice cake, then startled, glancing around to see if anyone noticed. So damn cute.
"I have hands; I can feed myself. Don't fuss."
"Yes, Mother."
As I savored her trying to salvage her dignity with a fake cough, a procession appeared in the distance, entering the village.
Here he comes.
The noisy crowd hushed. Some bowed respectfully; others eyed him sharply, appraising. I leaned toward the latter.
A corrupt official straight out of a painting.
I didn't know his exact age, but his plump build and face evoked a middle-aged salaryman from modern streets. Greedy features, ample robes bulging over a protruding gut—that caught the eye first. His fat frame was large, tall enough to exude natural authority. Surprisingly, he didn't seem physically negligible.
"You can tell he's lived well."
"Tsk."
Mother tutted at my mutter, openly displeased. Following her gaze, I saw the palanquin bearers staggering under the magistrate's weight. Even pros looked exhausted, hinting at a grueling schedule. He clearly spared no thought for underlings. Mother had noticed.
Perfect.
Unlike her, I breathed relief that the new magistrate matched the novel's depiction. Knowing it was a novel world didn't guarantee the plot would follow; this eased my tension.
"Let's head back."
Like how no delicacy tempts when faced with filth, Mother spat out her snack and turned away decisively.
Was it because all eyes were on him? Or fate binding her? As she turned, the magistrate's gaze landed on her back.
"Hooh..."
Too far for his voice to carry, yet I could've sworn I heard his intrigued murmur. I felt his greedy eyes shift to Mother beside me.
Her back held no expectation or lingering glance toward him—just cold, straightforward widow's indifference. I hoped it stoked his conquest lust.
No need to flaunt her.
Her neatly pinned hair, refined profile, the mature curves of a ripened wife peeking through simple mourning clothes—undeniable allure. Even I, her son, understood the village rumors. Every move dripped primal allure to stir male desire.
"Shall we go, Mother?"
I deliberately stepped between her and his filthy gaze as we turned. A flower on an unreachable cliff brings the thrill of plucking and crushing. For a greedy lecher like him, her resistance would only fan his sadism and urge to conquer.
In this tiny, isolated village, I'd stamped the image of the famed widow and her devoted son firmly in his mind.