#20 Former Singer, Current Pregnant Woman (3)
Even with her clothes torn and her upper body fully exposed, Harin made no move to cover herself. She knew all too well that such gestures would only stoke Yuchan's sadistic hunger. All she could do was huddle her emotions tight, seal shut the doors of her heart, and pray the time of torment would pass swiftly.
"You've turned into a much more delectable body now. Worth the effort of knocking you up, right?"
Yuchan tapped her breasts lightly, as if toying with a rubber ball. There was no respect for humanity in his demeanor. The man who had casually killed others and dragged Harin's life to the brink of despair—this treatment was just par for the course, familiar enough to stir no thoughts at all.
Women truly were wondrous creatures. Forced to bear the child of her enemy, yet she cherished the baby cradled in her womb. What pained Harin more than his humiliating act of impregnation was the agony of him viewing her child as mere fodder for swelling her breasts. To this man, the miracle of life's birth was just another sexual fetish among many.
"Please finish quickly."
Harin shrugged off the ruined dress, now meaningless. The torn fabric slipped to the floor with barely a tug of her arms. Her flawless naked form lay bare under Yuchan's ravenous gaze. Only her maternity drawers—designed like loose shorts to avoid constricting her thighs and lower belly—stood as the last barrier against her shame.
At Yuchan's nod, Harin carefully slid down her panties. Her swollen belly shifted her center of gravity forward, so she kept her torso upright, easing them past her thighs and off her legs. Consistent Brazilian waxes for delivery had left her mound pristine. The more you waxed, the thinner and sparser the hair grew—and she'd kept it up religiously during her time as Yuchan's sex slave. Even a week after her last session, it barely showed.
"Shall we shower together?"
"I showered early, expecting you. Where do you want to do it?"
So that's where the fresh lotion scent came from. Pregnancy stretch marks demanded diligent care, it seemed. Yuchan watched impassively as Harin wiped away the milk overflowing from her breasts with a tissue. There was thrill in watching her thrash and scream, but there was equal fascination in beholding a woman resigned to utter despair. It sparked a compulsive urge to shatter that facade of stoic calm.
"Where do you want to?"
"Here at our home?"
An obvious question. Though years had passed since Harin last faced the media spotlight, just two years ago she'd been a promising young singer. Parading her through hotels or elsewhere risked witnesses and scandal.
"When's your husband due back?"
"Day after tomorrow."
"No issue then, right? Bedroom good?"
No spot in this place would be spared. This was the cozy nest she'd barely wrested from his clutches to share with her husband. She wanted no part of him dragging in ghosts of the past to defile every corner. Yet Yuchan prowled the rooms, opening doors as if it were his own domain. To Harin, he looked like a predator scouting an altar for his sacrifice.
Her innocence had been gutted and spilled like entrails. The dreams she'd nurtured so tenderly now coughed up futile gasps like a choked breath. Even the womb meant for her beloved's seed was befouled with filth. And still, this man tormented her without end. When would it finally stop? Would he lose interest only when her body withered with age, worthless in his eyes?
Yuchan seized the wrist of the stunned Harin and led her to the bedroom. He'd scoped the other rooms too, but nothing beat a bed for sex.
"Ah..."
"What?"
Harin let out a quiet sigh. For some reason, a distant memory surfaced. Exhausted from a murderous schedule, weeping in the car—Yuchan had grabbed her wrist then too, his grip firm and reassuring. On the modest hill behind their neighborhood, he'd piggybacked her weary form all the way to the summit overlook. Just as his excessive kindness bordered on rudeness and unease crept in, Harin gazed from his back at the glittering city nightscape. Its beauty had made her sob.
Now that faded light had torn cruelly into memory, overlapping with his retreating figure.
"It's nothing."
She couldn't deny that once, she'd truly loved him. Those feelings back then had been real. Perhaps that's why, even in total surrender now, a sharp pang lingered in one corner of her heart.
"Get on the bed and spread your legs."
No foreplay, no kiss. His tone was all business, as if the act itself held zero interest. Of course. What he craved wasn't her naked body, which he'd savored to boredom. It was the inexhaustible tears of her grief.
Harin felt her breasts throb unbidden. The despair he always inflicted forced her to abandon everything—arms and legs severed, compelled into utter passivity. Paradoxically, in that murky mire of masochism, searing blooms of pleasure unfurled time and again.
"Don't be too rough. Star might get startled."
Like at the obstetrician, Harin climbed onto the bed and spread her legs. Revulsion hit anew at the sight of herself on the bed where her husband always showered her with fervent love, now splayed for another man.
"Already soaked."
"You know it's because of you. Don't tease."
As Harin said, her body hadn't always been like this. Just the thought of sex with Yuchan drenched her instantly—no acts required. It was his doing, embedding warped pleasure deep in her core.
"Never teased."
Yuchan left the ceiling lights blazing, methodically appraising her flesh. When he'd first taken her, her slender frame had thrummed with taut muscle. Even pregnant now, that lithe quality endured. Fresh awe stirred at the thought of his child growing in that ripe, protruding belly. He stroked the soft underside of her thighs—plush enough to yield gently to his fingers—then teased her slit.
Her untouched pussy winked, leaking clear fluid. How many times had he plunged into that hole? He'd long stopped counting. Yuchan raised his middle finger and thrust it deep into her yielding depths.
"Kkugh...!!"
So rough he slapped her labia with his fisted hand—Harin yelped oddly. The plush inner walls welcomed him as lavishly as ever, but hotter, wetter than before. Sticky enough to trick the mind into thinking his finger might melt inside. Pregnancy had thickened her nectar's viscosity, it seemed.
Like probing a pig's fat layer with a knife, Yuchan swirled his finger to gauge her state.
"Hng... hnnng..."
Her already shallow canal felt even shorter, uterus descended by pregnancy. A bit more vigor, and he'd touch her cervix. Her body shuddered with each lateral twist. He'd conditioned her to such sensitivity and grip—her husband must be enjoying it plenty. Yuchan idly brushed off the flicker of jealousy.
"You used to have such a pretty figure. Now this bulging belly is an eyesore."
"Hik..."
"Want the video from when I knocked you up? Could be a precious baby memory. Stick it in the album or something."
"Star... isn't your child..."
Bored by her head-whipping denial, Yuchan baited her.
"Even if it were... I'd raise it well with him... Never let it know a father like you existed..."
Even hating the enemy's spawn in her belly, she couldn't hate the child itself? Harin, unresponsive till now, shot him her first defiant glare since they'd met—rejecting his dominion. Yuchan marveled at the might of maternal instinct.
"What's your husband's crime? Probably jumped at marrying a slutty ex-idol, dick hard. Turns out you're just a cumdump shitting out another guy's kid."
Harin fell speechless at his escalated barbs. Whatever she told herself, the facts betrayed her loving husband. Of course, Yuchan wouldn't blab—but that's why her tale could never end happily. This adorable baby was ultimately his, and every milestone would summon his shadow for her.
"Doesn't matter to me anyway."
With that brazen line from the perpetrator, Yuchan rubbed Harin's belly. Soft yet firm, like a sturdy rubber ball beneath.
Harin recoiled with vomit-inducing disgust as his hand claimed the spot she and her husband always caressed tenderly.
"Gonna film. You cool?"
"...Do whatever."
She'd have freaked once, but now it was trivial. His videos of her alone could fill three external hard drives.
"You might not care, but your body's been waiting for my cock?"
"....."
With one hand starting the camcorder, Yuchan gripped the camera and rubbed his shaft at her entrance. Her leaking fluids painted her labia like brushstrokes.
"What're you doing? Lights are on—say it for the camera, ex-celeb Shin Harin."
"I want to have sex with your cock."
Her voice held zero emotion. No effort even to please him—it irked Yuchan slightly.
"Hoo..."
Time apart had dulled her fear. He paused the camera with a deep sigh. Harin's limp, feigned apathy tensed rigid. Too late, regret hit for provoking him in her desperation—especially pregnant and alone. He was the most dangerous man she knew.
"Grown a lot, huh, Harin?"
"N-no, that's not..."
"Think a bigger belly changes anything? You're just my toy. Why piss me off?"
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
Her face drained white—flashback or not—as she trembled like she might shatter. Yuchan savored it inwardly but kept his scary face.
"Learned apologies are just words?"
He'd taught her poses and moans aplenty. This was protocol for displeasing him. Harin scrambled up, legs together, then stood on the bed. She spread her legs twice shoulder-width, squeezed her nipples, and began squats.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
Pregnancy muscle loss or not, her specialty was powerful dance. Years from trainee to idol to solo act had forged resilience not undone overnight. She nailed the squats flawlessly. A naked pregnant woman twisting her nipples mid-squat—what a grotesque sight, yet her sincere apology made it hilarious. Milk now sprayed in multiple streams, thanks to pregnancy. Watching it fan out like mini fountains was a delight.
Yuchan captured every humiliation on cam, including her shame-flushed face at the end.
"Squats help prevent labor pains in mid-pregnancy. Turn around—ten more."
The night was still young.