Ace Kkotnim

After scarfing down the pork belly set meal, I grabbed the round tray and headed down to the first floor. I set it in the exact same spot as yesterday, then pulled out a cigarette and lit up.

That bitch Kkotnim I'd just seen kept circling around inside my skull. Of every cunt I'd ever met in my whole fucked-up life, she was the prettiest by a mile. I chewed over how the hell I was supposed to seduce her and fuck her raw. No clean plan had surfaced yet. First priority was just getting her to open her mouth and talk.

"Manager~"

I'd finished the cigarette and was waiting by the elevator, finger on the button, ready to head back up when that familiar high-pitched voice floated over.

"Ah, Dambi."

"You're early today~?"

"Yeah, well… something like that."

Dambi dug into the handbag hanging off her shoulder, pulled out an Americano identical to the one she'd drunk yesterday, and held it out to me.

"Here~"

"Uh… thanks, I'll enjoy it."

"I haven't eaten yet. Order me a kimchi stew, will you?"

"Yeah… sure."

We rode the elevator together. I twisted the two exposed wires back into place; after a brief silence the car lurched into motion and delivered us to the third floor. Dambi spun her head toward the counter, tossed a quick greeting, then vanished into the girls' waiting room at speed.

"Dambi says she hasn't eaten and wants kimchi stew," I murmured just loud enough for Jeonghun to catch. He lifted the cordless phone, dialed somewhere, and ordered the stew in a voice far kinder than the one Dongpal used when he called. Dongpal must have overheard my voice; he shot me a sidelong glance for a second, then swung his eyes back to the counter monitor.

"Come to think of it, Jin-sik, you're the same age as Dambi."

The little shit who barely cleared 160 cm spoke while still staring at the screen. So he'd heard me too.

"Yes, hyung-nim."

"Look after her properly. She's good about showing up on time, so pay special attention."

"Yes, hyung-nim."

She'd only been here one day—what the fuck was I supposed to "look after"? Still, I had no choice but to answer yes. If it meant feeding her cock-juice, I was more than confident.

At eight the day-shift manager bowed at a perfect ninety degrees and disappeared. Right after that the same pint-sized bastard announced he was hitting the sauna and dragged Dongpal out with him. Once again it was just Jeonghun and me watching the shop.

I glanced at the A4 sheet that doubled as attendance and tally ledger. Five stage names were written in order today:

The one called Nabi must have clocked in earlier than me. Probably still pissed that she'd arrived last yesterday and left one round short of the other cunts. Kkotnim and Mi-ho had come in together, yet somehow Kkotnim's name sat first. Hell, if I were writing the list and saw a bitch that fine, I'd ignore the pussy next to her too.

"Ah, hyung-nim, you can take every Monday off."

Jeonghun sprawled in the counter chair, eyes on some girl-group photos, and tossed the line my way.

"Got it."

Judging by how things ran, weekends were a wash; they'd just picked the quietest weekday for me.

"I ordered another chair. Should arrive around tomorrow."

"You're really looking out for me."

"Keun-hyeongnim ordered it. He takes care of people better than he looks."

He was pointing at the pint-sized bastard. Hearing that surprised the shit out of me. Then again, when I'd brought the family register earlier the little fuck had spouted the same "I'll take care of you" nonsense. Maybe, rough mouth aside, he wasn't a total piece of shit. He hadn't even sworn when he was schooling Hyojin.

A little later the kimchi stew arrived. Jeonghun shot me a look.

"Take it to the waiting room. And since it's your first time meeting Kkotnim and Mi-ho, go introduce yourself."

"Yes."

On the surface it was just a delivery errand, but deeper down it was clear: now that I was family, he wanted me talking to the girls as soon as possible.

I walked over to the massive table beside the counter, lifted the round tray still covered in newspaper, and headed for the girls' waiting room.

"Thanks~"

Dambi spotted me and sang out her gratitude in that trademark high pitch. Hyojin, Nabi, Kkotnim, and Mi-ho all stopped what they were doing, turned their eyes on me, and gave little nods of greeting.

Fucking hell, the more I look at her the more delicious she gets.

Hyojin was already damn pretty, but Kkotnim's face turned even her into a goddamn squid. One glance at that face and I instantly understood why the customer who'd called yesterday had kept demanding only Kkotnim. If I'd walked into a joint and seen a bitch like that, I'd have ignored every other cunt in the place and booked her alone—guaranteed.

"Manager, any reservations?"

Kkotnim locked eyes with me and spoke.

"Still quiet."

"Okay~ Let me know when something comes in."

Even her voice dripped sex. How the fuck did a slut this bewitching even exist? She looked like she'd been born for the sole purpose of sucking cock and getting railed.

I couldn't think of a single thing to keep the conversation going, so I had no choice but to retreat to the counter. I stood next to Jeonghun and quietly lit another cigarette. Without thinking I glanced at the reservation memo—and nearly shit myself.

Not a single reservation for any other cunt. It was barely past eight and Kkotnim already had six Jimyeong bookings locked in.

"Kkotnim's popular, huh."

"Yes, hyung-nim. Customers ask for her a lot."

"Why book her every fifty minutes, though?"

Yesterday, while I was grinding through thirty-one rounds, I'd heard the iron rule: when you stack the same girl back-to-back you book her every forty minutes. Service time starts the second she knocks twice and walks in, and the house sets that at forty minutes. In practice they give the first call at the thirty-minute mark; if she hasn't left, the second call hits at forty. So you plant the next reservation right at that forty-minute mark. Once she exits, the next customer showers for ten minutes while she recharges, then she heads to the new room. Of course when it's slammed they ignore the forty and drop the first call at twenty-five, the second at thirty. In those cases the girl gets zero recovery time—she just finished sucking cock like crazy, crawls out, and is told to crawl straight back in and suck another one.

"Yes, hyung-nim. Kkotnim takes a long time to get ready, and she finishes her rounds late."

"She's got a good mindset, then."

"From a customer's view, sure. From ours, working the floor… not so much."

Only then did I start to understand why every customer hunted only for Kkotnim. A face that pretty, who also fills every last second of the clock and does her full makeup ritual—hell, I'd book her too.

I took another drag, then pulled out my phone and logged into the nightlife review site. Searching the after-action board for Kkotnim spat out a handful of posts, each buried under hundreds of comments. The second I started reading, my cock sprang up hard enough to punch through my pants.

That was it. Kkotnim was a master of every known handjob-parlor skill: paizuri, sixty-nine, rimming, facial, Sakkasi, Habiyot, Blue Dragon Train—the whole fucking catalog. Nothing about offering her pussy, but the reviews especially raved about how delicious her Sakkasi was. The part that said the moment your cock entered her mouth it felt like it was melting away—that was the killer. I felt a bead of pre-cum leak out.

I pictured the face I'd just seen in the waiting room. A face pretty enough to erase even Hyojin in a heartbeat, model-length legs and a slim body, a voice so sexy ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it could melt you… plus that secret Sakkasi technique that made a cock dissolve under her tongue, and the mindset that filled every second of the clock. Everything about her was perfect.

How the fuck do I fuck this bitch?

I'd have to watch and wait, but bagging Kkotnim was clearly going to take serious prep. I'd only been on the job one day; time to start turning the gears slowly. For now I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠just gripped the cock that was still drooling pre-cum and forced myself to focus on work.

Maybe because we had one more girl than yesterday, I ran my feet raw. When ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠closing time hit I checked the A4 sheet: Kkotnim had slammed a full ten Jimyeong rounds by herself; the rest of the bitches each did eight.

Jeonghun finished the settlement, pulled out two ten-thousand-won bills, stuffed one in his own pocket and handed me the other. Once every girl had clocked out he lifted his phone and dialed somewhere.

"Yes, hyung-nim, we're closed. Forty-two rounds, one million one hundred ten thousand. Yes… yes… go on in, hyung-nim."

Watching nearly a million in cash land in a single day, the thought hit me hard: if I set this up right I could make serious money. Yesterday 890,000… today 1,110,000… and that was a weekday. Weekends would be a foregone conclusion. Plus those numbers were after the day-shift cut. Even after every deduction, two to three million a month would stick—that figure kept looping through my middle-school dropout brain.

"Hyung-nim, tomorrow's Friday so a lot of girls will show."

"Yeah, tomorrow's gonna be busy as hell."

"Keun-hyeongnim says after we close tomorrow ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠we should grab a company dinner. Official introductions for you too."

"Hell yes, I'm down."

I'd figured a dinner would happen eventually, but things were moving faster than expected. To fuck these girls I needed a chance to get close; no matter how I spun it, the fastest route was knocking back drinks, trading real talk, sharing cigarettes, then snagging numbers or chat IDs so I could work them privately. Inside the shop too many eyes were watching—just grabbing a number would take forever. The cordless phone used for business had the girls' numbers saved, sure, but it was a work phone; private talk was tough. And since it wasn't mine alone, if anyone overheard a personal conversation I'd be fucked six ways from Sunday.

The next day I came in early. Part of it was leaving a good impression on the hyung-nims, but after hearing Jeonghun I knew today was the golden chance to break the ice and get friendly with the girls. Scanning their faces was just a bonus. On top of that, once we finished the grind we had the company dinner lined up. My cock was already throbbing just thinking about it.

I bowed ninety degrees to the hyung-nims, then stepped behind the counter. Dongpal was sprawled in the chair next to the pint-sized bastard. Just like Jeonghun had said, the chair the little shit ordered had arrived—mesh fabric, looked expensive as hell at a glance. From now on I should probably start calling that pint-sized fuck Keun-hyeongnim.

"Food?"

Dongpal eyed me and asked.

"I'll take the mackerel set, hyung-nim."

I cut him off before he could order pork belly again. Even if it tasted good, three days straight would make me sick of it. As usual Dongpal grabbed the cordless, called the rice-soup place, barked "One mackerel," and hung up.

Consistency my ass, you little shit.

The ledger showed nobody had clocked in yet. A little later the mackerel set arrived; I was almost finished when the girls started stamping in one by one.

A girl I'd never seen before arrived first. Do-yeon. She looked a bit older, neat bob of pure black hair. Her face had that soft puppy-dog vibe—classic East Asian beauty. Makeup was heavy but blended so well it hid the flaws and punched up the strengths; the gentle impression hit even harder. A tiny mole sat on her left cheek. Black short-sleeve tee, black slacks, black backpack—she was clearly obsessed with black.

Right after her, Hyojin and Eun-ha bounced in together, faces full of laughter.

I finished the mackerel set, grabbed the empty tray, and headed down to the first floor. A young girl I'd never seen was standing there. Like Eun-ha she still had leftover baby fat; overall she looked round and cute. She was way shorter than Keun-hyeongnim. Soft red-dyed bob with waves, plain jeans, U-neck tee, backpack covered in cute characters—anyone would peg her for a fresh college freshman.

I walked past the cute one, set the empty tray by the building entrance, smoked a cigarette, then returned to the counter. The ledger now read Do-yeon, Hyojin, Eun-ha, Hyeona in that order. So the college-freshman-looking kid from the first floor was Hyeona.

Four more girls stamped in after that—Kkotnim, Mi-ho, Nabi, Dambi… all faces I'd already met. And the hellish Friday-night cock-grind was about to begin.