Chapter 149
Chapter 149
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 149
Chapter Title: To Higher Places
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To higher places.
Click.
The metallic clank of the door shutting cut off every sound from the office beyond, like the fall of a guillotine blade severing him from the world.
Silence.
In the deafening quiet, Osea stared blankly at the spot where he had stood.
'I'll rip your pussy apart...'
Those crude, violent parting words clung to her mind, refusing to fade.
Her face burned with the humiliation of blood surging backward through her veins.
Crazy bastard. Deranged little rich prick.
She needed to sprinkle salt right now and call the cops.
This was blatant sexual harassment—and a bribery scene caught red-handed.
She had to.
But Osea's body wouldn't move.
No, it couldn't move.
Against her will, her gaze—writhing with desire—drifted to the box of apples on the table, to those stacks of crisp yellow bills.
The Nobel Prize acceptance speech on her smartphone screen had long ended, replaced by black.
Yet the afterimage of that glory still shimmered before her eyes.
And beside it, the mountain of cash proving the weight of reality.
How much was it?
Packs densely compressed.
Five million won per bundle.
Ten bundles made fifty million.
To fill that box...
Tens of millions? No, easily hundreds of millions.
As she gauged the dizzying sum, a memory flashed through Osea's mind: her first encounter with that 'young' businessman, Kim Cheolsu.
It was at a daycare center in Paju, where she was doing volunteer work.
Image management for the next election—a calculated move.
That's where she first saw him.
A man kicking a ball around with the kids, sweat pouring down his face.
There was no ulterior motive in his eyes.
Standing beside the director nun offering routine thanks for the politician's visit, he was utterly immersed in the simple joy of playing with the children.
A spotless, handsome college kid.
Nothing more, nothing less.
His purity felt refreshing, so politician Osea approached first, offering a handshake and encouragement.
Complete with the cliché line: 'Young people like you are Paju's future.'
That memory was wiped clean a month later when he showed up at her rundown office.
Tailored suit, neatly styled hair.
No longer the sweaty college student.
At twenty-five—no, twenty-four back then—he arrived as a 'businessman' bearing donations that filled every legal loophole.
The pure joy was gone from his eyes.
In its place gleamed a cold sharpness, measuring his investments and calculating returns.
She should have known then.
That seemingly innocent smile was just one of his many masks.
Snapping from the reverie, Osea's eyes returned to the apple box on the table.
'Next time we meet, wear pretty lingerie...?'
His vulgar final words ignited a spark of outrage that soon twisted into a strange heat.
Imagining herself pinned beneath a young, handsome, capable stud.
At the center of that fantasy: the face of the 'young devil' who had just shoved her into hell.
A face she couldn't forget or erase.
Eyes that curved kindly when he smiled but held a cold, piercing light that seemed to see through souls.
A sharp nose and full lips that spat lies or insults without hesitation.
His firm jawline mirrored his arrogant, unbridled nature.
He wasn't just handsome.
His body wasn't some scrawny boy's like on that first day at the daycare.
The way he sat before her today.
Solid shoulders and chiseled pecs palpable even through the expensive custom suit.
The taut outline of thigh muscles glimpsed under the table hinted at his rigorous training and self-care.
An intense masculinity and explosive vitality poured from his twenty-five-year-old frame, defying belief.
The perfect male specimen.
She pictured that overwhelming body crushing her, that handsome face gazing down, those lips issuing lewd commands.
Overpowered by sheer force, not even thinking to resist—just submitting.
That thought alone made Osea bite her lip hard as her core grew slick without her consent.
Sex... when was the last time?
Back as an anchor, with a boyfriend... or maybe a colleague reporter a few times.
Since entering politics, not once.
She kept men at bay for a clean image and had no time anyway amid elections and legislative work.
Her body was a tool for ambition; indulging womanly pleasure was a luxury.
A long, hot breath escaped Osea's lips unbidden.
"Haa..."
A sigh of resignation—and the first cry of long-suppressed desire.
For years, she'd fooled herself behind the mask of 'Assemblywoman Osea.'
But that young devil today...
With money, power, and raw male aggression, he shredded her every pretense in an instant.
Humiliating, yet thrilling.
Terrifying, yet she craved his dominance—a perverse longing blooming within.
Osea reached out with trembling fingers, gently stroking the corner of the apple box.
The rough, cold texture of corrugated cardboard.
Inside: sweet, scorching tickets to hell.
...
Thump.
The car jolted over a speed bump, sending Choi Yang's body beneath me bouncing helplessly.
I used the rebound to drive my hips even deeper.
"Heut...!"
Melted eyes glazed over, drool spilling uncontrollably.
Her body rocked powerlessly in time with my thrusts.
Quite the sight.
Midway through pounding away, my pocket buzzed briefly.
I kept moving and fished out my phone with one hand to check the screen.
[Osea] - When shall we meet? A chuckle escaped me.
Only thirty minutes since I left her office.
Much faster than expected.
I'd given her time to stew, but she couldn't wait and messaged first.
The Nobel clip and apple box had melted her reason completely.
"Hut... fuck, sluts really do love a guy with money... and looks, huh?"
I whispered in Choi Yang's ear.
Not expecting an answer, of course.
She wasn't in any state to reply.
Just "Heut... ha... President..."—pleasure-soaked moans as her only response.
With her wet cries as BGM, I rocked my hips contentedly.
Choi Yang's naked body, stripped bare in the moving car.
Her smooth skin and firmness known only to me.
A virgin pussy untouched by any other cock.
Yet at my command, she'd spread for anyone and eat pussy like a whore.
What a perfect contradiction.
Virgin and slut.
Two opposing traits in one body—my ultimate toy, made to my exact tastes from head to toe.
Even as I savored it, the car pressed on, passing the gates of my new mansion.
It glided down the smooth ramp into the underground garage.
I thrust deep one last time and came inside her.
The car halted precisely in its spot just as I finished.
I pulled out casually from her quivering, afterglow body, and the waiting female bodyguard snapped open the rear door.
Her face showed utter indifference beyond familiarity at the sight of the cum-leaking secretary sprawled with her privates exposed on the luxury seats—and my boss's still-hard, grotesque cock dangling freely.
Another cog perfectly attuned to this world's laws.
Before stepping out fully, I jerked my chin at her from the door.
"Suck it clean."
At the casual order, the nameless bodyguard knelt and began licking my dick gently.
Efficient motions clearing every trace of Choi Yang's saliva and my cum.
I enjoyed the sensation briefly, then withdrew without lingering and exited the car.
"Where are Chaewon and Haneul?"
At my question, the other guard who'd followed quietly reported at once.
"Ma'am's at her prenatal group, and Miss is playing with Ddaengchili."
As I adjusted my disheveled pants during the brief report, the demonic figure who'd just ravaged two female staff vanished.
Now it was time to be 'husband' and 'daddy' again.
Stepping into the private elevator to the first floor, the mirror reflected my face back to that of the wholesome young man.
Moments later, a ding—and the doors opened.
In the vast living room center, as always, that shithead mutt Ddaengchili was smashing my luxury watch to bits, with our little princess riding it like a horse and giggling wildly.
Even as the multimillion-won timepiece became dog chews, my heart was at peace.
For that laughter, a hundred watches could shatter.
I spread my arms wide with the world's happiest smile.
"Daddy's hooome!!!!"
"Daddyyy~~~~!!!"
The tiny bomb of a girl launched into my arms.
I scooped her up effortlessly.
Fluff-light treasure.
Rubbing my cheek against hers brought peals of ticklish laughter echoing through the house.
She weighed nothing.
In the old days, this pose alone would've sent a sharp pain through my back.
My wrecked body from post-nut clarity side effects.
The [Vitality King] project.
Hellish workouts and choking down filth day after day.
Not for bedding more women or dodging post-nut longer.
The project was a resounding success.
I planted a smack on my daughter's cheek as she hugged my neck.