Prey Caught in the Trap
When was the last time I kissed someone? Ah—right. Our precious son. Back when he was a baby, babbling so adorably I couldn’t help but plant a kiss on him. That was the last time. Even that stopped eventually, after my wife scolded me not to pass cavity-causing bacteria onto the kid.
And kissing my wife… I can’t even remember. Not even from when we were dating. What burns clear in my memory instead is the day I caught her cheating—watching her kiss her boss goodbye at the front door as she saw him out. That image is still seared into me, sharper than anything.
Which made this all the more miserable. Of all people, it was this greasy manager who had his hands locked on my waist and the nape of my neck, forcing his mouth against mine. The disgust was absolute. This bastard… there was a limit to how far you could cross a line! I tried to shove him off in a flash of anger. I couldn’t.
My body, caught in his grip, was locked hard against his. I thrashed, but my hands never found purchase—just flailed uselessly through empty air. The worst of it was my head: spinning, swimming, utterly unable to form a coherent response.
I’d drunk too much. His lips crashed into mine, and the moment they parted, his writhing tongue shoved its way inside, and every thought vanished. Worse—he crushed my waist against him like a press, and my nipples, pressed to his chest even through my clothes, sent a sharp, electric jolt through me that made my body tremble in tiny, involuntary spasms.
Between that unspeakable revulsion and those bizarre reactions, my eyes rolled up and the world went hazy. Anyone looking at me then… would have seen a crazy bitch with her eyes rolled white.
The humiliation was crushing. Why… why the hell would he do this to me? I’m a man.
I screamed it inside my head, but the words were nothing more than faint static to a body that had already slipped my control. My tongue, against my will, tangled like a parasite with the invader sweeping through my mouth. My arms had already stopped thrashing and were clutching his back.
No. This isn’t right. Stop it. Stop this disgusting shit right now!
I thrashed with everything I had left. Maybe that was why—my head finally jerked back and I managed to tear my lips free. The force of it made the manager loosen his grip. But that only made things worse. Freed from his hold, my body couldn’t find its balance, and my head was still spinning so hard I couldn’t even tell what was happening to me.
And so, with nothing to grab onto, I toppled straight backward, the back of my skull smacking the cold floor as I sprawled out flat.
“Augh! Ah… that hurts.”
A thin scream and a moan slipped from my lips. Even as I made the sounds, the taste of the manager’s spit and his foul breath made my stomach turn. My mind was still a mess—drunk, or some other altered state, I couldn’t tell—and I couldn’t form a single clear thought.
I wanted to crawl away from that nauseating filth, but I couldn’t even get to my feet. I was just scrabbling uselessly at the floor when the manager seized my waist and arm again and hauled me up. Whispers rose around us. The click of phone cameras, like someone had found a free show.
He must have noticed. He put on a good-natured voice.
“Hahaha. It’s fine. My girlfriend just had a little too much tonight.”
Girl… girlfriend? What the hell kind of bullshit was that? I wanted to snap back, but I couldn’t clear my head, and I couldn’t even hold myself up. So, absurdly, the only thing I could do was hang onto the arm of the manager propping me up.
I hate this. I hate this man. This isn’t right. A male this pathetic isn’t good enough. I have to get out of here…
Uncontrolled thoughts crackled through my head like a broken radio, spitting nonsense. And then an even stranger image surfaced. Gangho… specifically, Gangho drenched in sweat, holding Jeong-a, his cock out, the muscular body covered in irezumi on full display.
That image. Fuck. What the hell was this? Why would that pop up now? And on top of it… even the smell of that hideout, the one that had disgusted me so much. I was going out of my mind. A chaos of scrambled information tore through my skull, and I couldn’t grasp what I was supposed to do.
Meanwhile, the manager finished paying with me still hanging off him, and we stepped outside. Ah… the cool air. Breathing it in cleared my head a little. I forced strength into my legs and managed to walk on my own as I spoke.
“Um… listen. I’m fine now, so you can let go.”
“Oh, no you don’t. Fine, my ass. You’re still swaying. Going home alone like this is dangerous. I’ll take you home safely.”
Just let me go. Nothing is more dangerous than the insane shit you just pulled. But my head was still spinning, and the words wouldn’t leave my mouth. So I was half-dragged, half-led by the manager’s grip into a dark side alley.
We staggered on for a long while, until the noise of the main street faded into quiet. Then the manager spoke suddenly.
“Oof, you still can’t keep your feet under you. I’m getting winded myself. Let’s sit for a second.”
He forced me to perch on an outdoor AC unit wedged between buildings, then glanced around, checking the surroundings. In the meantime I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. The aftertaste was still there. That bastard’s disgusting spit. Filthy. Revolting. And it wouldn’t go away.
I wanted something else to overwrite it. Something stronger than this. Wait—what kind of stupid thought was that? All I needed right now was Listerine. Honestly, gargling a whole bottle wouldn’t have felt like enough.
Then, as if he’d finished scanning the area, the manager stepped in close.
“Well? Sobered up a bit?”
“Ah, yes. I’m fine now. Really, I’m fine.”
Curses rose all the way to my throat, but this was still the man who controlled my livelihood. I couldn’t afford that. So I started to stand, ready to tell him—Gangho or no Gangho—that I was fine and would get home on my own from here. That was when it happened.
“Hey! Where do you think you’re going already? You’re still swaying. Here, I’ll help you up.”
“No. I told you I’m fine. You don’t have to hold me any—ahhk!”
A genuine, high, thin moan burst from my mouth. Even after becoming a woman, my voice hadn’t fully changed, so the husky tone I was used to made this sound unbelievable—a woman’s voice I couldn’t believe had come from me. But of course it had. That bastard had pretended to steady me while grabbing my ass.
This was different. He’d put his hands on me before, but only held me. Now that hand… was deliberately, purposefully, squeezing my ass like he meant to burst it. The force in his grip traveled through my backside and skin along my nerves and created a sensation I had no words for.
And that wasn’t all. His other hand immediately seized my breast, and his face went for the nape of my neck. From this point on it was open, undeniable molestation. Whatever had happened earlier might have been written off as a drunken mistake at a drinking party. This was a clear crime.
The fact of it made me explode.
“Stop it. You can’t do something like this—”
What… what kind of idiotic thing was I saying? Even the man I used to be would have heard that as pure coquettish whining. I should have yelled, full force, Get the fuck off me, you sexual predator! But the words wouldn’t come out that way. So of course his answer was pitched to match.
“You started it, Hyomin.”
“What? What are you—”
“You asked me to buy you dinner tonight, didn’t you? So you came out expecting something like this, right?”
This son of a bitch. Was this really how he saw every ordinary interaction? Male rage and rational hatred surged up inside me. I put strength into my leg, ready to kick him. He was faster.
“Hhk! Ahng!”
He shoved my upper body down onto the AC unit and tightened both hands, and my body answered him. The kick I’d thrown went wide into empty air. His lips, still reeking of that foul spit as they worked over my neck, whispered against my skin.
“That’s right. I’ll take care of everything. You don’t have to worry about a thing, Hyomin. Just leave it all to me… just trust me and let go.”
Wh-what? What kind of insane— But I couldn’t help being shocked. Because somewhere in a corner of my mind, a voice was agreeing with that absurd sweet talk. And that voice opened my mouth without my consent.
“You’ll really… take care of everything? If I just do this?”
“Of course. For you? Anytime.”
“Then I… I trust you, Manager.”
Nooooo!!! What the hell kind of crazy shit was that? Take it back right now. But my will felt locked in some prison inside me and couldn’t turn the words into action. So the intent was delivered, and looking down at me as he heard it, a drop of spit fell from the manager’s mouth and wet my cheek.
And his eyes had gone wild, like he’d been seized by madness. It was over. There was no getting out of this. I was going to have to take it. I tried to scream and fight, but the sensations flooding from the ass and breast he controlled… stopped me cold. No. This really can’t happen. Not this man.
If I have to be held… I’d rather it be that bastard. I can’t do this with a male this far beneath me.
By then my head was such a chaos I couldn’t even form a response. All I could do was accept him as he came at me. My legs parted, and under the filthy feeling at my throat I screamed inside.
Please… help me. Gang…
And then it happened. Something I never saw coming.
“Wow. What a view. Look over here, you cheating couple. Click!”
“Huh? Wh-wh-what! You… you—?”
The manager ripped his face off my neck with a look of pure shock. I turned my head too, but the flash that went off left me half-blind. Through the swimming afterimage, I only realized who was standing there by the voice—and the scent.
“Gangho?!!!”
That bastard was right there. With that signature mocking grin. He looked at the photo he’d just taken, satisfaction plain on his face.
“You clocked out early today, so I got curious where you were headed. Some junior who works at the jokbal place texted me. Said the two of you looked ready to roll out a blanket. So I came to check—and boom. Direct hit.”
“Hey—Gangho, you little shit. This isn’t what it looks like. Don’t misunderstand—”
“Manager. No—hyung. Still haven’t kicked that habit? The one where you call over girls Jeong-a’s been freezing out, pretend to comfort them, then fuck them? That little habit that got you written up by head office, and still wasn’t enough to stop your wife from separating from you?”
My mouth fell open at Gangho’s words. Wh… what? This bastard had been planning that all along? The sudden intrusion left me stunned. The manager flew at Gangho in a rage—and was on the ground in an instant. Gangho had driven a clean shot straight into his solar plexus.
He walked over to the manager, who was curled on the floor groaning, and said,
“What do you think happens if I send this to your wife? Think she’ll finally stamp the papers she’s been sitting on?”
“G-Gangho. Please. Not that. Please. It’s that bitch’s fault. This time I’m really the one getting screwed.”
Wh… what? That bitch… is me? What kind of insane— But I didn’t even get a chance to be furious at the slander. I flinched instead, because the moment Gangho heard those words, he turned on me with the eyes of a predator that had just confirmed a soft spot in its prey. He spoke as if to himself.
“Sure. Fine. If that’s how hyung wants it, we’ll leave it at that. But in exchange…”
I shrank back, pulling closed the front of my clothes the manager had yanked open. Gangho’s gaze felt like a blade. And then he said it—like a hunter who’d finally bagged his real prize.
“You don’t touch that one anymore. That cheeky little ajumma… from now on, I’m the one who manages her.”