Puppeteer & Clone 3
"Alright, Su-bin. I'm going to fill you inside and out with my mark, so hold on tight."
Puppeteer
Invisible strings seize the body and work it like a marionette.
The original body's low command had barely left my mouth before the threads of Puppeteer sank into the muscles lining her womb and wrenched them into a frantic, convulsive grip. Those trembling walls clamped down as if they meant to swallow my cock whole, and the sheer impossible tightness sent a staggering rush of pleasure tearing through me.
Above her, the Clone had been gathering her breasts in both hands and driving himself between them with relentless force. He hit his limit in the same instant, hips snapping forward in a savage, shuddering thrust.
Su-bin could only sob, helpless, as her most sensitive places moved of their own accord — falling into a perfect, involuntary rhythm with both of my cocks at once. The pleasure was so extreme she didn't know what to do with herself.
"Ah! Aaaah! Aaaaagh—! No, it's too... this is too much... nghh..!"
Her scream peaked — and in that same breath, the original and the Clone both snapped.
It came in thick, lurching pulses. A scalding flood.
My cock slammed against the mouth of her womb and erupted, pumping hot semen into her in volcanic surges. With her inner walls still clenched tight around me in real time, the cum had nowhere to go but deeper, packing every last inch of her until she was filled to the brim.
Su-bin's eyes rolled white. Her back arched like a drawn bow, and a last, broken cry tore out of her throat.
"Aaaaagh— it's... it's so hot....."
At the same moment, the Clone's massive shaft erupted in a torrent of its own. It pulsed, spurted, poured — a heavy splatter that ran down the valley of her full breasts, traced her collarbones and the hollow of her throat, and painted itself without mercy across the innocent face the whole country called its little sister.
The original's cum rose inside her. The Clone's cum rained down over her. In seconds, her entire body was stamped with white.
"Ah...... aaah...... nngh......"
Su-bin's lips trembled. She reached for empty air, then collapsed bonelessly onto the bed. Saliva and semen mixed and ran from the corner of her mouth. Between her breasts, the Clone's hot remnants had pooled into a small lake.
An unreal fullness. A pleasure so extreme it numbed the brain. Faced with a stacked assault no ordinary human nervous system could endure, her consciousness finally gave out. She dragged in a few ragged breaths, then her eyes fell shut, and she fainted as if she'd simply switched off.
I drew both cocks out slowly — original and Clone together. A wet, obscene sound followed, and my mark came pouring out of her pussy in a waterfall, soaking the sheets.
Jeong Su-bin lay motionless, naked and glazed in cum. She was no longer everyone's little sister. She was a trophy — wrecked and beautiful — branded as mine alone.
I smiled, satisfied, and gently brushed the sweat-damp hair from her face.
"Su-bin, your acting today was truly outstanding. Get some rest now."
My steps out of the apartment were light as a feather. Behind me I left the National Little Sister, unconscious, soaked in semen and spent pleasure. I drew in a lungful of cold night air.
At my side, the Clone walked in lockstep, wearing my face and an expression so blank it raised the hair on the back of my neck.
I checked my watch. Eleven at night. A full hour left until midnight.
The hollowed-out relief of having spent everything I had curdled, almost at once, into a strange, restless mischief.
"Be a shame to just go home like this, wouldn't it?"
The Clone's mouth curled into a thin, nasty smile, and he nodded. We headed for Gangnam's main strip, where the crowds were still thick.
Under the neon, people hurried past on their own private business — none of them with the faintest idea that their fates hung from the tips of my fingers.
I stopped at a crosswalk and started hunting.
Out of the river of bodies, one man caught my eye: a well-built guy in a crisp suit, smiling as he talked on the phone. He kept laughing, looking genuinely happy. Some pathetic little instinct of mine kicked in. I was jealous, somehow.
He was a walking specimen of the kind of normal life anyone would envy.
"A sweet little call with the girlfriend, huh... He's the one. I'll build him the most humiliating stage in the world."
I crooked a finger at him, just a little.
"...Huh? Wh-what?"
The voice that had been so lively on the phone a second ago warped into something grotesque. His will screamed inside him, but his body had already begun to move on its own. He stopped dead in the middle of the boulevard, and with shaking hands he tore his own tie loose. Eyes began to turn toward him, one after another.
"Babe? What's wrong? Hello?"
He left her panicked voice hanging in the air. With mechanical precision he stripped off his suit jacket and his shirt and flung them into the street. The murmurs around him swelled. He didn't stop. Tears ran down his face. He swallowed a scream, and in a few frantic seconds he had dragged his pants and underwear down around his ankles.
"Oh my god, look at that guy!"
"Jesus! He's actually lost it!"
Dozens of smartphone cameras swung toward him at once. The naked man's face went red enough to burst with shame — but when my finger traced a circle in the air, his right hand closed around his own cock on instinct.
Squelch. Schlick.
In the middle of the plaza, with hundreds of people watching, the man started to masturbate with violent, desperate strokes. The sight of him panting and violating his own body was as filthy as it gets.
The Clone and I laughed without a sound.
A human being's dignity, dumped in the trash in a matter of seconds. This — this was the real entertainment, the kind only someone with power like mine could ever taste.
"This is even more fun than it was with Su-bin."
I flicked my fingers faster. His hips were rocking back and forth now at a speed that looked insane.
Through a smartphone lens, a woman was giggling at the naked man, turning someone else's humiliation into a digital trophy and feeling superior about it. I let my gaze settle on her. Her fingers twitched under my will.
"Huh? Wait— my phone!"
Before she could even scream, her brand-new flagship phone hurled itself at the asphalt for no reason at all. The screen shattered. And her hands were already tearing the buttons off her own blouse.
"No! Why is this happening! Somebody help me!"
Her mouth screamed. Her body followed the path my fingers drew, faithfully, to the letter. Her skirt slithered to the pavement. Her underwear was ripped away as if it had been torn. The laughter of the crowd watching from the sidelines died into a stunned, horrified silence.
But the game was only getting started. I spread both hands wide and swept them through the air like a conductor taking an orchestra.
"Me too... what's happening to my body!"
"No! Stop! Please!"
One. Two. And then, in a heartbeat, more than a dozen men and women were stripping where they stood, as if they'd all agreed on it in advance. Office workers in their commute suits. A college girl with a luxury shopping bag. A couple who'd been walking along, sweet as anything. They were put on display in the middle of the plaza, naked from head to toe, as if the whole street had been built to show them off.
"Now look at each other. Appreciate the view. Enjoy it."
At my quiet command, the dozen naked men and women formed a circle and faced one another. And then, as if no one needed to go first, they grabbed themselves and started masturbating in a frenzy. Tears of shame ran down their faces. Their hips, bound to my strings, rocked back and forth at a madman's pace.
Squelch. Schlick. Spurt.
Hundreds of onlookers screamed and scattered in every direction. People who'd just witnessed a vision of hell fled in terror, and the shopping district turned, in seconds, into a scene of total pandemonium.
At the heart of that chaos, only the Clone and I stood still, shaking with silent laughter.
My ability was strong enough to shut down human reason itself. The crowd had no choice but to soothe themselves, sinking into the pleasure because there was nothing else they could do. I watched it all with deep satisfaction, savoring what time I had left.
This city was my enormous playground now. The people in it were consumables — things I could break whenever the mood struck.
A little later, sharp sirens filled the air beyond the wrecked plaza. Red and blue emergency lights shredded the dark of the shopping district to pieces, and four police cars screeched to a halt one after another.
"Police! Everybody freeze! Hands where we can see them!"
Eight officers in ballistic vests poured out, guns and tasers raised, full of their own authority. What they found was a mass-masturbation scene on the edge of collapse, and a screaming crowd trying to run.
The Clone and I smiled without a sound.
"Alright. Time to show them the true, naked face of 'state power.'"
Puppeteer
Strings lash out — eight targets acquired.
I spread both hands wide and sent the threads of Puppeteer whipping toward the eight officers without a shred of mercy.
"...Huh? Wh-what's happening to my body!"
The male officers' hands, still aiming their pistols, convulsed with no regard for their owners' will. They dropped their guns and started ripping their own stiff uniform jackets to shreds. Tactical pants slid down around their ankles. Vests and holsters hit the asphalt. In seconds, all eight officers were naked as the day they were born, dumped among the very crowd they'd come to suppress.
"This is insane! Stop! I said stop!"
The female officers screamed, tears of shame running down their faces — but when my finger traced a circle, their bodies started moving on their own all over again. I pointed at the cock of the man who'd been stripping and jerking off at the crosswalk.
"Mmph, nngh...!"
Two of the female officers dropped to their knees of their own accord and took that civilian's burning-hot cock into their mouths until they were full. Those neat, dutiful lips — the ones that had sworn to protect the public — now swallowed a complete stranger's musky shaft down to the root, sucking him with devoted, meticulous care, because that was what I wanted.
The male officers' eyes rolled with horror at the sight.
"Should I have you boys do something too?"
On my command, four of the male officers snatched the naked civilian women by their slim waists, as if plucking them off the ground.
"Haaaaaagh—! Don't— you can't!!"
They wailed and fought, drowning in shame, but the women bound to my strings spread their own legs to take the officers' risen cocks. And those officers, with no say in it at all, drove their massive shafts in to the hilt in a single stroke — straight into those hot, twitching gaps the women had already worked open with their own hands.
Schlick. Schlick. Squelch. Drip.
In the middle of the plaza, a tableau of hell unfolded: police officers who had arrived in uniform, tangled with civilians in a mass orgy. The shopping street rang with it now — the wet, gasping sounds of the female officers giving head, the male officers' brutal piston-thrusts — all of it swelling into one obscene, bursting noise that filled the night.