Second Morning: Feigned Tears and Shattered Resolve
I prepared a generous amount of warm water to wash my mother's body, just as I had the day before, and headed to the cell. Some of the guards were coming and going to clear out the firewood that had burned through the night, and when their eyes met mine, they flinched in visible shock.
Is it because of Mother's state?
A moment later, I would see my stepmother collapsed in the cell, covered in another man's fluids. Even a guard working at the magistrate's office, no matter how loyal to the magistrate, couldn't completely abandon basic human compassion. It was only natural for one who knew the situation to recoil upon seeing me.
I entered the jail and made my way to the cell where Mother was confined. Amid the crisp morning air, the faint, fishy scent of night-blooming flowers lingered—just enough to remind me anew of the severe humiliation she had endured last night.
"Hoo...?"
As I opened the cell door and stepped inside, Mother lay there just as I had last seen her: sprawled on the floor with limbs splayed, her entire body smeared in dried semen remnants. Yet a vague sigh escaped my lips, not for that reason, but because of the fresh, milky fluid splattered across her face. Thick and sticky, not yet fully dried—like it had just been ejaculated—trickling down her porcelain-white skin. The word fresh fit perfectly; it had clearly been spewed out moments ago.
So that's why that guard freaked out when he saw me.
He couldn't touch the woman the magistrate had his eyes on, but slipping away after spotting a fainted beauty was easy enough. She was already a mess of fluids, so no one would notice, and even if caught, it'd be a minor scolding at worst—a harmless prank. Come to think of it, in the original Chujeongjeon story, the magistrate had his underlings toy with and torment Mother to erode her spirit. As the saying goes, clear water above makes clear water below.
They're all in cahoots.
I wondered what vulgar words the guard had spewed while ravishing her unconscious form—my loins swelled heavily at the thought—but now wasn't the time.
Problem is, I can't cry on cue. What to do?
Yesterday, I'd hugged her tight, forced her to climax, kissed her—committed all sorts of depraved acts—but I was reluctant to abandon the role of the filial son Jeong Yun. It made Mother perceive me more strongly as her 'son,' heightening the exquisite taboo thrill of our mother-son bond, making her gasp and lose her mind even as I devoured her. I couldn't quit playing the good son.
To act the part of the weeping son discovering his abused, unconscious mother, I knelt properly by the cell floor and gathered her into my arms.
"......"
Tears? Not a chance. If anything, precum leaked from my cock, but conjuring chicken-tear dramatics was beyond me. After some thought, I dipped my fingers into the water I'd brought.
Splash it around the eyes to mimic tear tracks?
It was clumsy, but I smeared it just enough to look like tear streaks. No mirror in sight, so I couldn't check—then, as I pondered, a strained groan escaped from Mother at my feet.
"Hng... kuh, ugh..."
With her hands bound behind her, she'd borne the magistrate's massive weight with her whole body—no wonder she was wrecked. Groaning as if feverish, she squeezed her eyes shut in pain, trying to rise but failing several times. The semen crusts clinging to her skin tugged and dried it out, wrinkling her delicate face further as she struggled upright. Forcing her heavy eyelids open, she spotted me.
"Ah..."
The small moan from Mother's lips condensed her shock, languor, and every other emotion.
"Y-Jeong Yun... h-how did you come so early..."
She must have tried to clean up the traces of humiliation before I arrived. Though it was far beyond salvaging, she wouldn't want her blood kin—her own son—to see her ravaged state. Her dark pupils trembled mercilessly beneath semen-glued eyelids as she stared at me, then turned away as if fleeing reality. Like an abused stray dog shutting down emotionally, she scurried to the corner, curling into a tight ball.
"D-don't look! Don't look!"
The water was already spilled. But Mother shrieked from her huddled spot, desperate to scoop up the cruel reality.
I gave her a moment to compose herself, then approached cautiously.
"Mother."
She flinched! At my call, her whole body shuddered as if stabbed by a blade. In the bright morning sunlight, her voluptuous form—sullied by the males' sticky remnants—looked wretched, yet stirred primal lust more than ever. I ached to shove my hand between those plump, rounded buttocks; her side-boobs, squished toward the floor, begged to be prodded until she yelped. Especially the semen flecks peeking through her disheveled hair and that thick night-flower scent wafting from the chaste woman—it reeked of lewdness she should never emit.
"Mother. Do you plan to avoid your son forever?"
"......"
Unlike my lecherous heart, my voice was astonishingly solemn, steeped in sorrow. As I reached out to stroke her back—smooth as a snowfield—her body gradually stiffened beneath my touch.
No cosmetics here, yet look at that skin texture. Damn... she's unreal.
Was it the unpolluted water and air? Her skin was impossibly soft and flawless. I wanted to slide my stroking hand downward, plunge into her thick, meaty pussy—but not yet. Gently combing her hair, she jolted up in panic.
"St-stop! Stop it! It's filthy! Filthy, I say!"
Horrified at the thought of the magistrate's vile fluids staining her son's hands, she tried to rise. Her water-swollen breasts jiggled through the rags of her jacket and undergarments, dizzying the eyes. The blatant red marks and bite wounds the magistrate had left on her pearl-pale bosom stood out vividly, sparking bizarre jealousy and arousal. Her refined face, streaked with the guard's semen, twisted in sorrow, guilt, remorse—all mingled; tears like dew mingled with the milky fluid at her eyes.
"Y-you...!"
Too ashamed to face me properly until now, she finally noticed the fake tear tracks I'd left, faltering mid-sentence.
"What is filthy?"
But I ignored her raw, heartbreaking anguish entirely. Masked as the filial son, I pressed closer; she retreated until the wall blocked her.
"L-let go. Now! Why won't you release me..."
Even as she spoke, she felt my hand caress her hair, shoulders, collarbone, nape—like a lover's touch. As if my fingers were razor-sharp, she trembled violently, every hair on her body standing on end in sensitivity.
"All night long, like this..."
I trailed off deliberately—forcing her to relive the endless humiliation and violation, while reminding her that her son could imagine those moments.
She bit her lips hard, stifling sobs, her body quivering.
I stroked her head, then yanked her firmly into my embrace.
"Ah...?!!"
With eyes squeezed shut against her tears, she belatedly realized she was in her son's arms and let out a shrill scream. Jeong Hyang panicked at the sticky, musky semen that might rub off on him and tried to pull away, but his arms bound her tighter, like iron chains.
"N-no! Let go! It's d-dirty! Like this...!"
"Mother."
Jeong Hyang felt her son's voice calling from above pierce straight into her mind like a thrust. Low and calm, yet it boomed like thunder—vividly real. A child's call to its mother rings clear no matter the noise or distance; it was that same principle.
"Mother."
Again, and strength drained from her limbs. Burying her face in his broad chest, each thud of his heartbeat crumbled her resolve to stay stoic and strong as a mother.
A-ah... no. No. I must stand. I have to stand...
She was becoming a woman. Not the unflinching mother weathering life's storms, but a frail female. Not the parent who should shelter her child, but long-discarded womanly feelings surging forth. Melting into the reassuring warmth of her son's embrace.
"Ah, my son..."
She deliberately used "son" instead of "Jeong Yun"—to remind him of their bond. Her final desperate struggle to make him see this was wrong.
Yet his arms around her shoulders dug in like thick ropes, binding her tighter. Her parted lips trembled, unsure what words to form amid ragged breaths.
"Rest in my arms a moment."
"......"
At her son's warm words, something she'd barely held together snapped.