First Daytime Conditioning, Part 2
“No! I absolutely, absolutely won’t…!”
“Mom.”
She flinched!!! The moment I switched from calling her “Mother” to “Mom,” Jeong Hyang jumped as if she’d been skewered by a red-hot iron rod.
What, what was that…! Just now…!
Jeong Hyang felt an inexplicable heat surging suddenly from deep in her lower abdomen, driving her mad. It was as if a tightly sealed lid had popped open, her body reacting before her mind could catch up. She couldn’t remember it due to the Monghwancho, but until the magistrate arrived, she’d been conditioned by her son—by me—every single day. Held in her son’s arms all night, called “Mom” over and over as she was caressed, tormented until she was frantic with need. The torture and humiliation continued until she begged her son to let her climax. So the moment she heard “Mom,” her body instinctively recalled those feverish nights.
“Mom.”
I uttered the magic words once more, turning the woman named Jeong Hyang back into my mom, and stepped closer. Her dark eyes filled with confusion and shock, trembling like there was an earthquake. Those round, doe-like eyes, swollen with fear like a prey animal spotting a predator, gazed up at me. Her porcelain-white cheeks flushed a subtle lotus-pink, clear enough to see—the effects of the deeply ingrained conditioning were unmistakable.
“Are you planning to let some other man touch your body, Mom? You prefer someone other than your son?”
“Th-that… I mean… N-no, not some other man, how could I… But, b-but…”
Mom shrank back like an adulteress caught cheating, struggling to respond.
“Then it’s fine for your son to wash your body, right?”
Even as I dropped the formal speech—just like when I’d held her in my arms, toyed with her body under the influence of Monghwancho, and whispered lewd words in her ear—she showed no sign of noticing. Without waiting for her answer, I began fully untying the already loosening strings of her jeogori.
Her trembling eyes darted between my face and the precarious strings over her chest. As I parted the liquor-scented jeogori, only a thin undergarment remained, faintly revealing her voluptuous breasts.
“J-Jeong Yun…”
She called my name as if pleading for that much at least, but I slowly untied the strings of her undergarment too. Now, her pale breasts—untouched by the magistrate—were fully exposed before her son. For the first time in her clear-headed state, without the haze of Monghwancho, Mom had bared her most intimate parts to me completely.
Slipping it off.
Without a word, I stripped off her jeogori and undergarment entirely. Well, precisely, with her hands bound behind her, I couldn’t remove them fully, so pulling them down around her arms was the best I could do. But that half-draped state only made it look even more erotic. Admiring her sweat-beaded, full breasts as if licking them with my eyes, Mom couldn’t bear my gaze and turned her head aside.
Let’s strip the skirt too.
At this rate, I wouldn’t even need the Monghwancho I’d brought. No—I’d decided to condition her fully sober from now on. While her head was turned, I untied the skirt strings. She whipped back around in horror.
“W-wait just a moment! Th-there…!”
“Mom. We don’t know when you’ll get another chance to change, so I have to clean every nook and cranny. Listen to me.”
“A-ah… Ah…!”
Even as I spat casual commands, she felt no strangeness or discomfort—just confusion. With the skirt strings fully undone, it dropped to the floor with a thud. Now Mom was left with only the thinnest scrap of fabric barely covering the slit between her legs.
The moment I undid the last strings of that final undergarment, leaving her utterly naked, she couldn’t take it anymore and turned her body completely away from me.
Reminds me of the first time I used Monghwancho.
Not intentional, but at home too, I’d always conditioned her from behind, embracing her. Whispering sweetly in her ear to turn the innocent word “Mom” into a lewd moan, teasing her until she begged for fingers in her pussy. The quiet, secluded house where it was just us two came to mind, and I couldn’t help but smirk. Embracing her from behind like that, the woman in my arms shuddered as if electrocuted.
“Wh-what…!”
There was no need to hold her just to wash her body, so her shock was natural.
“L-let, let go…! Let go! N-now!”
Ignoring her desperate pleas, I tightly embraced her near-naked form. She couldn’t accept the situation—or perhaps couldn’t hold onto her sanity in this near-incestuous reality—and began muttering to herself.
“H-how… How should I…! I, I’m… I…!”
Leaving Mom to babble endlessly like a broken clock, I picked up the cloth soaked in warm water. Then I began slowly wiping from her slender nape.
“Eek…?!”
The warm, soft cloth tickled her nape like a caress, and she tensed up rigidly.
“Mom. You’ll get cold naked, so stay in my arms while I wash you. Got it?”
“Uh… Uh…! Uuuh…!”
Her cute little ears, peeking through her hair, flushed beet red as she groaned in shame. I pulled her soft waist deeper into my arms with one arm, while the other continued caressing and cleaning her body like a lover’s touch. Delicate shoulders, the hollow of her collarbone, and as my hand reached the liquor-scented upper swells of her breasts, she seemed to stop breathing from tension.
I stroked the soft, yielding upper breasts—like steamed rice cakes—with the cloth, painting slow circles. Swish, swee-sh.
“Ah, uh… Ha…!”
Her breasts glistened wetly under the bright morning sun, shining seductively. Beautiful as jewels, utterly bewitching.
“Mom. Gotta clean the cleavage thoroughly too. Sweat builds up there easily.”
From now on, I announced each spot like a preview, whispering where my hand was headed into her ear. At first, she’d bowed her head to avoid my face, but now she couldn’t bear watching my hand roam her body and lifted it slightly, trembling.
Savoring the soft cleavage through the cloth, I slid my hand between those enveloping mounds of flesh. They began radiating heat, ready to burst. Deliberately loosening my arm around her waist, I gripped one full breast firmly.
“Hiyak?!”
A cute, shrill scream burst from her lips. Her slightly raised head snapped down as if her neck might break, and the shock of seeing her son’s hand clutching her breast rippled through the air.
“I’ll clean the underbreast. Gotta lift these vulgar udders of yours for that, right?”
“V-vulgar…?! Haaah…”
Her mind short-circuited at the unbelievable word from her son’s mouth, emitting a bizarre moan. The soft flesh filled my palm, and I felt the nipple at its center hardening stiffly. Is it just stimulation, or is she aroused? I’ll know when I touch her pussy later.
I gripped her breast harder, stimulating roughly while caressing the undercurve with the cloth.
“Ha, haa… Ah…! Ah, eek…!”
She writhed, desperate to escape my arms, her waist bucking. Each time, I squeezed harder in reprimand, and she collapsed into me like her legs had given out.
Under the pretense of cleaning her breasts, I toyed with them freely, her sweet moans filling my ears. Her nipples stood erect, quivering visibly, so I “accidentally” flicked one with my fingertip.
“Haaak!!!”
The wet, lewd cry from her lips sent blood rushing to my cock in my pants. Enough playing with her tits for now—I guided the soaked cloth down to her waist. The fierce heartbeat pounding through the breast I still gripped revealed her arousal and emotions plainly.
I rubbed her slightly plump, love-handle waist with my full palm.
“Ah, aak… Ah…!”
She yielded her waist but clenched her thighs tight, determined not to let her son’s hand venture lower. Like knocking on a locked door, I tapped the inner thighs. Her legs betrayed her, quivering and parting slightly before clamping shut again.
Way different fun from when she was drugged.
Under Monghwancho’s haze, she’d only rebelled occasionally with cries that this was wrong during intense stimulation. But sober now, I could feel her conflict between reason and instinct moment by moment—stirring deeper sadism and satisfaction.
“Mom. Spread your legs.”
She stiffened rigidly in my arms at the cold, explicit command. Her thick lips, pressed shut in a straight line, trembled visibly.
No patience for her turmoil—I forced my hand between her ripe inner thighs.
“N-no… Not that… Not that…! St-stop! P-please…”
“In a place like this, the insides need extra cleaning too. Or you’ll get sick.”
Utter bullshit, but plausible enough. Mom panted raggedly, as if on the verge of passing out, every muscle tensed in resistance.