Side Story 2 - The Queen Bee of the Otaku Circle
Otaku guys were always so easy to use. Sia thought that sincerely, even though she was one herself.
Thanks to their obsession with anime, they harbored these weird fantasies about women. Tease them just right, and there weren't many types as convenient as these guys. Position-wise, they were lenient about skinship, quick to laugh, and surprisingly innocent about real men despite all that. Even the die-hard otakus who claimed they had no interest in girlfriends outside the screen fell easily with a little prodding.
In that sense, Sia—as a male-oriented otaku just like them—had a huge advantage when it came to handling guys. She knew their needs inside out, and male otakus secretly fantasized about female otakus with similar tastes, making it easy to hit that spot. In fact, Sia cleverly exploited this edge, reigning as the queen bee of an anime club at some university.
The club was tiny—only about four active members including her—but Sia lived quite contentedly. Don't get greedy. That was one of her life philosophies.
She got hyped up by the guys without lifting a finger, satisfying her need for recognition, and occasionally scored gifts from their half-lechery, half-affection. That was plenty satisfying... but lately, something extra special had been added to the mix.
"Haa... Ludwig looks so damn cool after all this time. The perfect prince, for real. Diving back into my old favorites feels great. I've been neglecting them lately."
In the clubroom of the anime research society at some university, Sia watched an anime she'd seen over twenty times already, her face rapt in bliss. It was classified as male-oriented, but famous for its handsome and cute guys—and the final boss of the enemy side was Yoon Ji's old imaginary boyfriend.
She'd been slacking on her old stomping grounds lately, but her otaku soul wasn't dead yet. Rewatching it now was still a blast.
"Hmm... but still, it's kinda lacking that punch, you know? No more of that heart-wrenching thrill from the first watch... Guess I've changed a lot, so it's inevitable."
This must be part of growing up, she thought, feeling mature for a moment. But who knows? With her hair dyed blonde and fixed in twin tails like some anime character, Sia didn't look grown-up at all.
Short stature but big tits, a babyface that belied her twenties, and gestures mimicking anime characters—she was like a real-life anime girl who'd jumped out of the screen. Her entire lifestyle was basically cosplay. Objectively, it might seem a bit pitiful, but the problem was, it hooked certain otakus hard.
"Alright, regular anime fix topped up. Next up..."
Once her prince-gazing session ended, Sia closed her eyes and navigated to a folder she could find blindfolded, firing up a video file.
This one was anime too, but unlike the previous one's realistic style, it exaggerated female bodies to absurd levels—peak male-oriented stuff. One ugly guy who seemed important, and seven female characters with familiar-yet-polished designs. Sia's tastes spanned male and female-oriented works alike. But if she had to pick, she didn't usually go for this blatant harem vibe.
Tastes change, though, and exceptions exist. This anime was her top pick this month.
"Normally I'd watch from opening to ending, savoring every second... but I'm in a rush today, so straight to the climax."
She knew the plot inside out—full marathons over ten times, to the point she could recite the main characters' lines. Questions like "Isn't it pointless to rewatch now?" were off-limits. This was the essence of being an otaku.
With practiced flicks, she skipped the unnecessary bits and jumped right to the climax. Then, a despairing scream tore through the clubroom from her laptop.
"Iyaaaaaahhh!!!! Koware ruuuu!! O-man ko, koware chauuuu!!!! (Noooo! It's breaking! My pussy's breakingggg!)"
The voice was Japanese. Most anime Korean otakus consumed came from Japan or America, so nothing weird there. But the content? Anyone who knew would do a double-take.
Hentai, plain and simple. Even in an empty clubroom, blasting it raw without headphones was bold.
But Sia didn't care. Eyes glued to the screen in ecstasy, she let out a moan.
"Yes, this is it. That agonized scream is the absolute best."
On screen, the presumed protagonist was shoving his dick into the woman's pussy. Tears streaming, she resisted him—classic rape scene. The victim: blonde twin tails, petite frame, massive tits. The epitome of an otaku character archetype—undeniably tsundere vibes.
Too bad, though. This character wasn't tsundere at all. Her essence? Pure bratty kid arrogance, chaebol entitlement, and sandstorm-level sadism rolled into one—a perfect embodiment of a punk begging for a lesson.
And yet her body oozed female allure. Total scum. When a punk like that shows up in hentai, the ending's as predictable as Batman's identity.
Representing viewer rage, the protag ignored the bitch's screams under him and pistoned away mercilessly. Detailed depiction of blood as his cock forced open her tiny pussy hole. She thrashed her arms, pounding his back in denial that her virginity was snatched so easily—but a weak girl's flailing was less than a bug's buzz.
"Ahh, this scene's the best. No matter how many times, it hits hard. Especially Reimi here. Blonde twin tails, big tits on a tiny body. Like, 70% me, right?"
The on-screen Reimi's design overlapped heavily with Sia's. Common stylized trope, nothing surprising.
"Makes me feel like I'm really getting raped. Ahn~♥ So gross!"
Mouthing complaints, Sia slid her right hand to her crotch, fingering her bare pussy. Already sopping from the hentai, it squirted juices and climaxed at the lightest tease—hyper-sensitive.
This was her latest kink: hentai jerk-off sessions. Even as a male-otaku fan, she'd skipped overtly male-gaze stuff before. But lately, her tastes shifted—straight-up Hitomi-style hentai lit her otaku heart ablaze.
Specifically, after some random guy at an otaku event designated her an onahole.
She didn't know the causal link, but there it was.
"Haa, the protag's such an alpha. Raping the brat on the spot 'cause she pissed him off! Guys like that are rare in real life!"
The anime's hero was a total loser—perviled by the heroines with contempt. Then he snaps, conquering them all with just his dick. No hypnosis apps or blackmail in vogue these days. Just raw cock and physique. Old-school, against the trends—but that's what made it delicious.
Unrestrained passion, betting it all on one massive tool. A manliness worlds apart from wimpy modern shit. Not that she hated hypnosis or blackmail tropes.
The concept peaked in the heroine's reactions.
"Nnghoooooohhh♥♥♥♥ Kimochiii iiiii♥♥"
"Puhahaha! For real? How long ago was she screaming rape and hating it? Already broken? What a trash pussy. And she acted all high and mighty to dick owners? Deserves it."
About ten minutes in—longer in-story, shorter for viewers. The heroine who'd cursed him out while resisting was now fully submitted, ahegao face on, cumming nonstop, whimpering "kimochiii" like a slut.
Classic hentai formula. Also spotlights the protag's prowess. She'd keep bitching post-fuck but never snitch to cops—tsundere who spreads 'em whenever he wants.
"Haa. So jealous. Not many guys that cool and manly, treating bitches like personal fuckholes. Lucky punk."
Sia, who'd mocked the heroine earlier, now eyed her enviously. For onahole cunts like that, wasn't the point meeting a magnificent cock master to serve as his hole?
But such masters were rare. Sia had her shot once, but no chance to reunite with the guy who'd made her an onahole.
"Well, reality doesn't wrap up neat like anime."
Sia tied up her fantasies with that, came once, and shut her laptop. Ideal yearnings get purged via anime; face reality head-on. Real world lacks perfect masters but overflows with gullible guys to exploit.
Click. The clubroom door opened. Sia plastered on a bright, anime-heroine smile and stood.
"Welcome!"