A Disgusting First Kiss
I had a dream. A lucid one — the kind where you know, beyond any doubt, that it isn't real. Because if it were reality, something like this could never happen.
"Aaah! More. Oppa, Kang-ho… it feels so good."
Beyond the darkness, in a space lit as if by a single spotlight, Jeong-ah straddled Kang-ho with her legs spread wide, shamelessly exposing herself as she sobbed and writhed. Thanks to that, I was forced to see what I never wanted to see: her wrinkled entrance, stretched taut around his cock until it looked ready to tear, twitching and straining with every movement.
And I… was bound. My wrists were tied above my head, and I hung suspended in midair. I tried to thrash free — and flinched. I was completely naked. Nothing on me at all. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. A gag sealed my mouth like a muzzle.
So there I hung in the dark, stripped and humiliated, forced to watch those two go at it in the distance. And Jeong-ah, as if mocking me, spread herself even wider and taunted me with the sight.
"Nngh, oppa. I'm still the best, right? There's no pussy in the whole store that can match mine, is there? All of me is yours. Everything. So take whatever you want. I'll make you feel better than anyone. That scrawny ajumma over there couldn't even pretend to do this. Puhaha! Aaah—!"
Something in me flared hot. This little bitch — give her an inch and there was nothing she wouldn't say. Why the hell would I pretend to do something like that? Yeah, circumstances had left me looking like this, but I was a man! So shut that worthless mouth. How dare someone like you…
It was only a dream, and still it felt filthy beyond endurance. I couldn't cover my bare body — forced, like Jeong-ah, to leave my flat chest and my sex exposed — and when I felt Kang-ho's gaze turn toward me from the dark, nothing but the gleam of his eyes visible… I twisted, trying to escape it. It did no good.
His animal stare fixed on me from across that space. That disgusting gaze crawled over every inch of me as if it were licking me raw. In agony, I screamed inside my own head. Goddamn it. Don't look at me like that. Don't look at me the way you look at a woman. I'm a man. A man.
"Hah—!"
I jolted awake. Nothing about it felt clean. Frowning, I scrambled to look down at myself.
"Ugh… I'm soaked."
I wanted to lose my mind. Sweat beaded all over my body, sticky and clinging, and my lower half in particular was so wet it was almost dripping. The scene I'd witnessed in real life — and again in the dream — wouldn't leave me, nor would that nauseating smell that had made me want to crawl out of my own skin.
I felt filthy. Unbearably so. And the more I fought it, the more powerless I became. How many times had I tried to sneak in there and catch him in the act? Counting had become pointless. Every time, I failed to hit the record button.
What I had learned instead was only this: nearly every woman in the mart was his female. Just as Jeong-ah had said in the dream, every female employee but me would go when he called, melt into his arms, and come apart for him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
So why, knowing full well what those shameless acts were, did I still hesitate? Why couldn't I move? It was just like before — watching my wife cheat and still too spineless even for a timid protest, until I was thrown out. I was disgusting. Yeah… gender had never been the problem. I'd always been this kind of man.
I was the one who couldn't even work up the courage to resist a guy years younger than me, a walking surge of useless testosterone. No — worse. Just witnessing it was enough to wreck my sleep and leave me degraded even in my dreams. That fact alone was humiliating beyond words.
So I had to draw a conclusion here.
"I can't do this alone. Which means… I need someone else's hands."
I turned on the shower and let the water hit my sweat-soaked body. Things started to settle into place. Right — there was no reason I had to thrash around by myself. I could just ask someone with more authority, someone who could actually handle it. The thought alone cleared my head.
By the time I finished washing, it was nearly time for work. Running on almost no sleep, I dragged my half-conscious body to the store and put the plan into action at once.
"Huh? What? Hyomin — what did you just say? You want me to… buy you dinner?"
"Yes. It's a little awkward to talk about on the floor, and I have something private I need to tell you. Away from everyone."
The manager looked visibly flustered. Why the shock? Colleagues grabbing dinner together was the most ordinary thing in the world if you'd ever held a job. Watching his eyes go round over something so trivial, I could only feel puzzled.
Was it inconvenient? Should I suggest coffee instead? Before I could even finish the thought, he blurted out as if canceling would be a disaster.
"If it's… a little difficult, we could just do coffee, or—"
"Of course I'll buy. Who do you think is asking? Absolutely!"
"Ah— yes? Th-that's a relief. Then I'll see you this evening."
He agreed so eagerly, telling me to order whatever I wanted, that I thanked him and settled on a jokbal place nearby. Grateful he'd accepted so readily, I gave him a small smile on my way out — and didn't even make it through the door.
"Kyaaaahoo!"
…What was that? Leaving the office, I could have sworn I heard something like pure joy from the manager. What, had he been that starved for a friendly drink with a coworker? To be that happy about it… I felt a little bad. I should have set up occasions like this more often, instead of only when I had an agenda.
Either way, once I reported what I'd seen to him outside, quietly and without hard proof, the situation would resolve itself. I wouldn't have to get involved. He'd look into it, the truth would come out, and Kang-ho would be punished or whatever. Right. That was enough.
Then I'd finally be free of that grotesque thing of his, of those uncomfortable stares looking down on me, of that nauseating smell. Holding back a cheer of my own, I worked in silence and waited for evening.
"Ah, Hyomin. Over here."
"Sorry I'm a little late. But how early did you get here? You've already gone through quite a few bottles."
By the time I arrived at the jokbal place, the manager had already been there for a long while — ordered, and well into the drinks. Apparently he'd clocked out a full two hours before our meeting time. I'd assumed he'd stopped somewhere first, but no — he'd come straight here. The amount he'd already put away made me uneasy. He only grinned at me, sly and loose, and gestured me toward a seat.
"…Next to you? Why?"
"You said you had a private confession. Sitting across from each other doesn't really fit, does it?"
Well… he had a point, sort of. I hesitated, then sat beside him. I'd come straight from my shift; I was probably a mess of sweat. But his reek of alcohol was stronger still. And before I could even open my mouth, he spoke first.
"Alright. First, down one."
"What? No — I didn't come here to drink. I—"
"Come on, you've got to match the pace a little. Just one."
I had no choice. I shot the bomb shot he'd mixed for me. Ugh — way too heavy on the soju. It hit me the second it went down. I couldn't show it, and on top of that I had to take the jokbal he fed me. From the very start, this "report" was going to be anything but easy.
"Hmm… so you're saying he's using that place like his personal motel."
"Yes. Exactly. Something has to be done. And the female employees who go along with it should be disciplined for indecent conduct too."
The manager listened without interrupting, seemed to sink into thought for a moment, then drained another glass. I watched him, tense. What if he said Kang-ho was still necessary for sales and operations? Then I was finished.
Instead, the response was better than I'd hoped.
"In that case… we'll have to do something about it. Alright. I'll take care of it. Good that you told me, Hyomin."
"Really?"
"Of course. We can't tolerate that kind of filth on the floor. Absolutely not."
I finally exhaled. Good. This settled it. A manager had promised action; he wouldn't just let it slide. Relieved that the whole mess was as good as over, I thanked him and started to stand — and found I couldn't. Because—
"Hey, why are you getting up already?"
"What? But—"
"Stick around a little longer, Hyomin. I've got plenty to say about that guy myself. So have another drink. Come on — cheers!"
He wouldn't take no for an answer. God… I wasn't much of a drinker, and I had work tomorrow; I wanted to leave. But walking out on a superior who'd just promised to fix the problem for my sake felt wrong. So I took the glass.
What followed was pure complaint. How much that bastard made him suffer. How no one around him — family included — was ever kind to him. Stories I'd heard a hundred times. They should have been boring, and yet… maybe it was the alcohol.
I sat there nodding along to the dull litany, offering the right noises of agreement.
"You're right. Everyone's so unfair to you, Manager. Where else would you find someone as good as you?"
"Right? Honestly, you're the only one who likes me, Hyomin. Come on — another toast."
"Cheeeers~~~"
And little by little, my consciousness started to fray. Haa… still, badmouthing that bastard together did take some of the stress off. But… why was my body getting so short of breath? Wait. What was this?
I tracked the strange sensation to my shoulder. His hand had slid up my back, closed around my shoulder, and was now stroking the nape of my neck. Wh-what was he… The alcohol seemed to burn off in an instant. But what I'd already drunk still made the room tilt.
"Um… Manager. Your hand—"
"You know something, Hyomin? You're a really attractive person."
"What? What are you talking about— more importantly, your hand—"
Something was wrong with his eyes. And his breathing. He was so close I could feel every exhale, looking at me with bloodshot eyes, almost panting as he spoke.
"It feels like I'm under a spell. Like I'm falling into something against my will… I feel that with you, Hyomin."
"Manager, please let go and talk. Ah… that hurts."
I felt fear at his incomprehensible words. I wanted out of his arms that second. But my struggle died in the grip of the hand locked around my neck. And then he did something that left me stunned and thrashing.
"I'm not letting go. You're mine."
"What? Mmph—! Mmmph!!!"
A horrible sensation forced its way through my lips. Goddamn it… what the hell was this?
