2. BJ Yona, the Scoop Hunter

"Wh-what the hell... when did you even...?"

BJ Yona clamps a hand over her mouth in shock. She's perched on the edge of that princess bed from yesterday's footage, her legs trembling uncontrollably. I glance at my smartphone in one hand, then finally hit pause—I can't hold back anymore.

"All routes lead somewhere. Anyway, your place is smaller than I expected."

It's tiny square footage, and aside from what's shown on stream, it's nothing special. There's a kitchen overflowing with unwashed dishes and two massive trash bags, plus another room stuffed with clothes—basically nonexistent.

I casually poke around before turning back to her sharp, glaring eyes.

"What are you gonna do with that?"

"If possible, I'll wrap this up clean without any mess."

"Do what exactly...?"

"Just follow my instructions for the next few hours. Cooperate nicely, and I'll wipe it all clean."

"......Don't fuck with me."

She grips my phone so hard it looks like it'll shatter.

"What the hell did I do wrong?"

BJ Yona shoots me a defiant glare.

"This is blackmail. The one doing wrong right now is you, threatening me with hidden cam footage. I don't know how you got it, but the one at a disadvantage is you—showing your face and coming here. Should I call the cops?"

Her logic hits spot-on. But if she wanted to push it, she should've done so more boldly. Not with legs shaking like a newborn fawn.

It's obvious she's bluffing, dumping her last pennies into desperation.

"Looks like you're missing the point..."

"No, I'm done talking. I've seen your face, so get the fu—"

"Is it important that I'm blackmailing you, or that the video even exists?"

She flinches, spine stiffening as her body trembles.

"Average viewers around 800, right...? Tons of donations despite the numbers, decent income. Place isn't much, but you own it. Even got a compact car."

"H-how do you...?"

"You're on the verge of losing it all—don't play tough."

"......You sleazy bastard."

"Or switch to adult streaming? Or marry the guy from the video?"

"Fuck off! Like I'd marry that pig!"

"Exactly~"

I slam the bedpost and lean into her face.

"You doing this or not?"

She shrinks back at my aggression. Even her flimsy bravado crumbles.

"......What do I have to do?"

Her attitude softens, and a smile creeps onto my face. Truth is, the answer was set the moment her legs started shaking like aspen leaves.

I tell BJ Yona to change into her usual streaming outfit ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and adjust the camcorder angle. She picks a simple t-shirt and shorts that cling just right, outlining her killer figure perfectly.

Now it begins. What I want is a certain kind of play.

"You really want me to do that...?"

"Yep. Just go with your usual streaming concept."

"Why the hell do you want this? You aren't secretly recording again, right? Computer's fully powered off?"

"Personal taste. Why would I film with my blackmailer face front and center? I look plenty gentlemanly. Videos get deleted after."

"......Copies?"

"None. I don't make amateur backups."

Her eyes widen for a split second. A hint of regret—like she should've deleted it herself earlier. But the phone's back in my pocket, and that ship's sailed.

"Alright, let's get started. Interview concept from here. Action!"

I clap like a director calling cue.

At the streaming PC, I sit in a plain kitchen chair while BJ Yona fidgets in her gaming seat before greeting.

"H-hi everyone! I'm BJ Yona. I do all-around game streams, and I run a YouTube too—please like, subscribe, favorite, and hit that like button! I'd really appreciate it!"

Her well-worn lines flow smooth as butter.

"Oh, all-around gaming? What games do you mainly play?"

"Y-yeah~ Mostly new releases, and when I don't have anything queued, I do popular ones like board games."

"Ah, mind showing us a bit of your gameplay?"

"Pardon?"

"Your gaming. Gotta see how you do it."

BJ Yona stumbles a bit. It's 100% improv concept play, so it won't be seamless.

"Y-yeah~ PC games won't work, so I'll show you a mobile one."

She pulls out her white iPhone and taps a game app. Chibi characters and flashy colors everywhere, with constant ping-pong effects—loud as hell.

"What's this game?"

"Cute snacks running game. Collect dropped coins, dodge traps by jumping—simple stuff."

"Oho."

I lean in, feigning interest. Screen's tiny, so I have to get close to see. Not just for the screen, though.

Squish.

Pretending focus, I grab her plump breast. My other hand strokes her thick thigh.

BJ Yona's muscles go rigid.

"Wh-what are you...?"

Her tone slips from character, but I ordered her to endure anything before starting, and her hands are glued to the phone touchscreen—she can't shake me off easily.

"What the hell is this...?"

"Hey~ Focus on the game. Show us the power of an all-around game BJ."

"......"

"Hmm... hearts down to two already? Think you can clear like this?"

"Normally I could... Hah!"

I plunge my hand straight into her shirt, kneading bare skin, pinching her nipple hard.

"Th-the game itself is easy, so if you time it ri— Hngh... Eek... Aah!"

She leaks shallow moans, but since I'm toying roughly, it's more pain than pleasure. Getting turned on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠while blackmailed and groped? She'd have to be insane.

Aside from mauling her rice-cake tits, my thigh-stroking hand creeps higher. She can't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠concentrate—her character falls into a pit and dies.

"Aw~ Died quick. All-around game BJ, but not great at games?"

"......"

"Got the gist of your skills. On to the next interview."

I pull back to my chair, and her eyes turn axe-murderer sharp. She glares like she wants to rip me apart—she's piecing together what's next.

"Now that I know who you are, let's get direct."

I clear my throat.

"All-around game BJ—decent income?"

"......So-so."

"Then why sell your body?"

"Wh-what!?"

"That big guy in the video. Sold it to him, right?"

"N-no, that wasn't selling! Just... friendly relations..."

She denies boldly at first, then trails off meekly.

"Ah, so you two were dating?"

"No, that's not..."

She averts her eyes slyly—too awkward to admit aloud.

"Called him 'Chairman' on stream. Fan cafe prez or big tipper?"

"......Yeah."

"So fan bonding goes all the way to sex? Orgy parties with all fans off-stream?"

"......"

Her lips seal under the barrage, then part slowly.

"He's been helping since launch. Supported me when times were tough, but now that I'm stable, his demands got excessive..."

"Still, demanding your body? Just say no."

"...He's loaded. Some university board chairman's son... Plus, he's key in stream chat bonding—can't ignore."

Her last words cut short. Thinking of that bulk, she grits her teeth in real anger. The subservience in the video wasn't for nothing.

Not just money—her livelihood stream's tangled in this shitty dynamic.

Listening, it hits odd.

"Then just dump him."

"...Huh?"

"Don't give it to that creep. If you're dirtying yourself anyway, better adult stream for a big payout than fawning over a pig."

"...My family knows about my channel. And I wouldn't whore myself flattering guys if I was gonna do games in the first place. ...Fuck."

"But you're selling now as a game BJ. Aren't you?"

"......"

Facts shut her down. Her clenched fist trembles.

"......Stop."

"Hm?"

"Fuck this shit! Quit this crazy crap!"

She explodes, shoving her chair back and standing.

"What the fuck is this bullshit! Blackmailer asshole—you just wanna fuck too! Cut the crap, ram it in quick, shake your hips, bust and go!"

She yanks down her pants. White panties follow. Shaved clean—someone's kink or her self-image?—her pussy gleams pink and tight.

...Might be tough to drag this out more.

Purpose here: sex after interviewing BJ Yona. But ending interview like this—mission complete? Iffy...

Still, she offered, so maybe satisfied? No choice—can't push further.

Interview ends here. Plus, groping that hot body has me too riled up.

Her exposing herself swelled me huge. Grab a condom from my wallet, climb onto the bed. We're half-naked, bottoms off.

As I roll it on, BJ Yona freaks.

"......What's that?"

Over 6cm girth, impressive length—perk from getting the hacking tool. Perfect for ravishing women, right?

The monstrous size barely fills half the condom. She trembles in horror.

But defiance flares—locks eyes, then whips away. Covers them with her arm.

"Hic... Fuck. Why are all guys like this. Hate it, really..."

She whimpers and sobs. Honestly, I'm thrown. Slept with plenty BJs, but they were angry or disgusted—never pants-down crying instantly.

...Poor thing. Maybe give some service.

I overlap her lying body slowly. Her red nips and thick labia tempt, but I don't maul wildly.

Start with gentle foreplay. Can't nibble ear with her face covered, so suck tits and armpit.

Then insertion.

Schlick... Squish...!

Despite foreplay, it's tight. Like stone—sucking yields no wetness.

"Nngh... Eek...!"

Her clamped pussy hurts my big dick. Pain moans slip from under her arm. Gritting like when that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pig mounted her.

Fun in its way, but no thrill if partner's just enduring. Plus, grouped with that pig? Ego bruise.

Pull back slightly, probe angles. Explore her cave for hidden gold.

Poking, hit the mid-upper G-spot most women loved.

"Hah?!"

Jackpot. Jabbing up draws unwitting moans—she startles herself.

Arm guarding face flips in shock, but clams up again like wary shellfish.

Know the spot now—target it. Develop till she feels it fully.

Squelch-squelch-squelch!

Effort pays—dry desert blooms oasis-wet. Faster thrusts splash lewdly.

"W-wait... Stop... Why the hell...!"

"Why? First time feeling a dick? Or too big?"

"Sh-shut up, creep."

Splash, splish-splash-splash!

Mouth resists rough, but pussy's honest. Sloppy juices leak out.

Special service for the dishonest girl: Grab legs, shoulder-mount, piston her defenseless soaked hole.

"Hah!? Hng...! Oooh...!"

Didn't feel in tight phase, but deep hits now draw uncontrollable moans.

Lick her pretty legs, whisper against arm.

"Feels good?"

"Sh-shut... Hah...!"

"Not much experience—thoughts on your first real dick high?"

"Hah...! Bullshit... Hngh...! Haaang! Hnng!"

No room for words—moans reply. I'm getting good. Months ago, constant fumbles pissed girls off. Now, watching her writhe on my cock? Proud.

BJ Yona's flustered by the twist, but arm stays guarding post-first feel.

"Gonna cum."

Wanna pound her to peak, but limit hits—whisper, unload inside.

She twitches at hot seed, but probably didn't fully cum.

Squeeze last drops, pop out—condom slick with her juices, heavy load. Tie like water balloon, set on thigh.

Finally, perch on bed edge, knead tits while chatting sweetly.

"Body's killer. Consider adult streaming. They'd eat you up—waste fawning that pig."

"......Shut up, psycho."

"Felt bad blackmail-fucking first-timer. I'll tip your debut."

"Get out and die, fucker!"

Mouthy bitch. Anyway, promise kept—pull phone, delete video. Shove in her face for proof, but she's still arm-covered post-sex—dunno if she saw.

Gather scattered clothes, stand.

"I'm out. I'll watch sometimes—stream hard."

"Asshole."

"Yeah, yeah. Asshole's leaving."

Eat curses to the end, exit. Elevator down—street's dim. Entered midday sun, now night sky dark.

"Whew, done."

Pull phone, check results. Hacking Tool app pings nonstop.

[Good work today. We'll delete the blackmail video later.]

Amounts sting low—victim wasn't big fish. Main goal was hacking upgrade anyway. Money's bonus.

Check new feature right away.

Wish I'd gotten this sooner...