The Second Night
As dusk settled over the prison cell, Jeong Hyang sat there in a daze, half out of her mind.
"What in the world... what was that..."
The words spilling endlessly from her lips laid bare the chaos and bewilderment churning inside her. This morning's unbelievable event. The heavens had raged, and an unspeakable incestuous sin had defiled her body. It was her son, the one she'd lived with all these years. He had to be her son—yet suddenly, reality thrust before her the nightmare of being toyed with by some thing wearing her child's skin.
"A dream...? Was it a dream?"
Jeong Hyang repeatedly questioned herself, wondering if she'd lost her mind from enduring the magistrate's humiliating violation and was now hallucinating. But the faint lingering heat in her body was no lie. The most terrifying part was this very flesh of hers. It had thrilled at her son's touch, grown wet below at his gentle caresses meant for a woman, not a mother—this wanton body she could scarcely believe was her own.
"What... what should I do..."
No matter how she racked her brains, no clear answer emerged. Why had her body become like this? Why had her son changed so utterly? As she stared blankly at the straw mat on the floor, the chirping of crickets filling the cell was joined by the heavy thud of footsteps.
"......"
The beast that had thrown her into this hell. Flames of blazing fury ignited in Jeong Hyang's vacant eyes.
"Jeong Hyang, my dear Jeong Hyang. Have you been well?"
She took in the sight of the beast standing beyond the bars. A black-robed creature with a face bloated with greed and a jiggling belly stuffed with ugliness.
"It was you! You!"
Jeong Hyang spat out the answer to the question she'd mulled over all day. Faced with an impossible, unbelievable reality, her mind abandoned rational thought, rationalizing it away by pinning blame on the easiest target she could hate: the beast before her eyes. It had surely ruined her son.
"Hm?"
Kim Man-gyeom, without a hint of disturbance—just as the night before—tilted his head at the sight of the prim woman who'd sat so rigidly now exploding with rage like wildfire. She'd endured such humiliation through the night without showing her emotions—whatever had happened to make her thrash like this piqued his curiosity. To sate it, he stepped into the cell, running his fingers through the ends of her glossy black hair that even carried a floral scent, savoring her exquisite form with satisfaction.
"Yes, indeed. How was tending to your dutiful son? Look at you—so neat and elegant. Splendid. Truly splendid."
Kim Man-gyeom was even more pleased with her appearance tonight than last; she looked more beautiful and composed. He recalled when the filial son Jeong Yun had come to him. He'd only permitted the tending out of a desire to revel in the humiliation of the mother wiping away the stains left by her son's hands on her body—yet here she was, resisting fiercely. This promised to be quite the entertaining pleasure.
"Grrrh!"
At his blatant mockery, Jeong Hyang ground her teeth, heedless of the ache. Bloodshot veins crept into her once-pure, immaculate eyes as she bared her raw fury.
"You thunder-struck wretch! How can you wear a man's skin and commit such cruelties! How—how!"
Her outburst made Kim Man-gyeom sense their conversation wasn't meshing. At first, he'd assumed it was rage at making her birth-son wipe and tend her body—but the intensity and alien edge to her emotions didn't fit. Did the son scorn her? No, the sharpness doesn't match. He'd only reached her once in a single night, but given her character, this trembling wrath was no small thing. Rumors and her nature suggested she was a tender woman who'd even share compassion with outcasts like Seo Yun-baek who tumbled into the village—yet here she was, glaring as if she'd devour him on the spot? The pure woman who'd only shed sorrowful tears even as her body was defiled, swallowing her shame?
Something happened with the son.
Jeong Hyang seemed a woman of strong maternal love. Having lost her husband young, she'd leaned on her only son—something irreversible must have occurred between them. Jeong Yun took after his mother, renowned for his fine character; even if she was ravished unwillingly by another man, he wouldn't scorn an innocent like her.
Kim Man-gyeom's lips twisted into a vile grin. He seized the chin of the woman glaring daggers, enough to tear him apart, and gazed down at her pitiable form with eyes brimming with lust.
"How intriguing."
"Nngh...! Let go!"
He could easily pry the truth from her, but where was the fun in that? He'd planned to shatter her chastity and take her by force tonight—yet watching the situation unfold a bit longer might prove amusing.
I can't wait to see how the son reacts tomorrow when he finds my blatant marks carved on his mother's body.
Neither knew that Jeong Yun had hidden himself in one of the empty cells, peeking at the grotesque play unfolding between Kim Man-gyeom and his mother.
"Jeong Hyang. Don't be so angry. You'll ruin that lovely face. Now then—have you prepared yourself to attend this lofty magistrate tonight?"
"Ha, hahaha! Now I see—you're no magistrate, but a clown. A clown stuffed to bursting with lust and greed."
"I felt it yesterday, but your tongue truly rolls so deftly. I wonder when it'll wrap so softly around my member."
Kim Man-gyeom thrust his hand into her mouth, yanking her tongue out by force just like last night. But Jeong Hyang trembled not from fury at the violation, but as her son's morning touch revived from the root of her tongue.
"Hng, hngh...!"
Heat began to rise slowly from deep in her lower belly, long dormant. Panic and dismay flushed her face. This lascivious body was mistaking the magistrate's touch for her son's, igniting on its own. Thick, clear saliva dripped from his fingers to the floor, starkly illuminated by the firewood blaze lighting the cell.
"Oh? Your son takes after you—quite thorough. Surely you've eaten, yet it's so clean."
With her hands bound behind her, Jeong Hyang couldn't feed or rinse herself. Yet the tongue dangling from his grasp was spotless, red, and pristine, quivering as if trying to escape.
"Hng, l-let... gooo!"
She screamed for release, but only mangled, shameful sounds escaped—like a whining babe. Kim Man-gyeom grinned wider, pressing and savoring the texture of the tongue protruding from her plump lips.
"Yesterday I punished only this wicked mouth—but tonight, having damaged this lofty magistrate's dignity, you deserve worse."
With that, he extended his log-thick arm and tore her jeogori jacket and undergarments to shreds in one go.
Riiip!
"Hiiik?!"
The brute force from his massive frame and thick hands shredded a woman's mourning clothes and slip like paper. As they split apart, the ripe, fruit-like fullness of her breasts spilled out, jiggling into view.
"Oh ho..."
Kim Man-gyeom's eyes gleamed with awe and desire. He was the type to save the best food for last, so he'd skipped these delectable fruits last night—now, dangling before him, his mouth watered.
Jeong Hyang felt the world go dark with despair. Yesterday, her disheveled clothes could be excused somehow to her son—but with them in tatters, even lame excuses would fail.
"Such luscious breasts."
Kim Man-gyeom seized one with his free hand, as if entranced.
"Ha-euk...!?"
Even from the shadows, her hidden son could clearly see her breast distort like glutinous rice cake under his grotesque grasp. Creamy flesh oozed between his thick fingers, her pretty nipples quivering—mirroring her shame.
A-ah...! In the end...! In the end!
Whether from welling tears or guilt toward her long-dead husband, Jeong Hyang squeezed her eyes shut. The beast's brutal grip on her breast felt all the more vivid.
Squiiiish!
"A-uk...!"
Not an exchange of love, but a one-sided squeeze to slake his lust—her body let slip a rough moan unbidden. Kim Man-gyeom noticed her near-bite and released her tongue. She hastily retracted it, but the loathsome hand fondling her breast remained.
"Let's taste the breasts of this haughty bitch untouched by man for so long. Hauuub...!"
"A-aahh??!!"
She'd barely weathered one ordeal when worse awaited. Her back prickled with gooseflesh as her breast was engulfed in wet heat. The raspy beard tickling her skin was chilling enough—but the sluuuurp as he suckled hard nearly drew a girlish scream, which she barely swallowed.
But then his coarse tongue rasped over her nipple, and a near-scream of pleasure burst forth unbidden.
"Haa-aang?!"
Her bound hands felt like a curse. The moan rising from her breast was so humiliating she wanted to bite her tongue and die.
Slurp, chuup, sluuuuurp, chuuup, slurp slurp...
"Ah, ahng... ha, eung, kgh...!"
The alien sensation of her breasts—untouched since nursing her son—being suckled made her hips quiver. How can it feel this good...! It should hurt, repulse her. Long-unused nerves—yet her body heated as if her breasts had awaited this, reacting to the stimulus. Conditioned by the monghwancho, nightly suckled and kneaded by her son, her mother's breasts now responded eagerly, stoking her female flesh to prepare for a man.