Lee Ji-yu: A Woman a Bit Too Much for Me

Squelch. Squelch.

Ji-yu swept her hair back, her face flushed with raw lust as she rolled her hips. She rocked forward and back, smearing her juices across his stomach with every pass. The pain of being stretched to her limit was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tipping over into pleasure, and her cheeks stayed fever-hot the whole time.

He reached up and took both of her breasts in his hands, kneading them. Soft—almost impossibly soft. The only pity was how thin she was; her ribs showed faintly beneath the skin.

"Haahng. Haaaahng. You're mine."

"I've got plenty of women already, starting with Hye-yun. You're the seventh wife."

Squelch. Squelch.

"Hmph. It's not possessiveness. I'm just saying you're mine. Haahng."

She dropped the hand that had been in her hair and closed it over his where he held her breast, then traced teasing little circles across the back of his hand. She licked her lips—the look on her face was pure filth. His cock twitched.

"Haahng. Feels good for you too, right?"

"Yeah. I like dirty girls. Girls like you. And keep your waist still—move only your hips. That looks hotter."

"Like this?"

Squelch. Squelch.

She was flexible. Whether it was luck or something else, every woman he ended up with seemed to bend like this.

Beautiful women aren't all kind… but are they all flexible?

She locked her waist as best she could and started twitching only her ass. That broad pelvis made the eighteen-inch waist—so thin it looked almost skeletal—stand out even more. The abdominal muscles her leanness left bare kept flexing, angry and insistent, with every roll of her hips.

"You need to eat more. Put some meat on those bones."

"Haaang—ah, ah, yeah. Where do you live?"

Squelch. Squelch.

"Floor below Hye-yun's. And I'm moving to an apartment in Mapo soon."

"You're taking me with you, right? Hahng—"

He nodded.

"Of course. You're my wife now."

"Hahng, hahng. I get to do something this good every day…"

"You couldn't handle every day. Even Hye-yun begs me to keep it to once every three days. Says ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she'd die if we went daily."

"Hye-yun's always been weaker than me—aahng—uh… haaaaahng!!"

Her hips began to turn in slow circles. Her cervix clamped down hard, grinding against his glans as she focused every ounce of pressure on the spot that felt best for her.

Soft breasts. He pinched a nipple between thumb and forefinger and rolled it.

"Haahng. Lucky bitch. What kind of fortune did that Hye-yun whore pull to land a man like this… hahng… me too, though."

He pinched harder.

"Ah—why?!"

The second she insulted Hye-yun, he twisted her nipple. She glared at him.

"Hye-yun is the first wife. You treat her like an older sister. That's the house rule. Hierarchy matters."

"Hmph. Fine."

Squelch. Squelch.

She leaned her upper body down toward him. He let go of her breasts and wrapped his arms around her instead. She set her head beside his and kept rotating her hips. He held her tight and stood up.

Her legs locked around his waist; her arms wound around his neck.

"Haahng… weird. You're this big and it doesn't even hurt."

"That's why it's good, right?"

She nodded. Mouth open, she drifted closer. Their lips met. Her tongue toyed with his while the nails of the arms locked around him dug into his back.

Hmm… doesn't hurt, but it stings.

During sex he never took real wounds—her nails only scraped and passed. He could feel her pussy starting to flutter, climbing toward climax.

Thrust—thud!!!

No way I'm letting her finish without a proper pounding.

"Haaaahng!!! Yes!!! More!! Harder!!!"

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Her mouth fell open in a raw scream as she clung to him, rubbing her breasts against his chest. A woman chasing pleasure with everything she had. The words sex addict spun through his head.

Come to think of it, for a first time she was lasting longer than anyone he'd had across the entire Three Kingdoms World.

Thud. Thud.

"Hahng!!! Fuck yes. This is it—aaaaahng!!!"

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Even while he drove into her she kept working her own hips. A dizzying sensation. She wasn't a Myeong-gi, yet she still knew how to please a man on her own.

At the peak her eyes went slack; her pupils rolled up and vanished. Drool spilled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from her lips. Every upward thrust left her trembling and crying out with a vacant face.

"Hahng… ahk… haaaaahng!!!"

Climax after climax left her looking half-idiotic. She stuck her tongue out and licked his face. He dragged his own orgasm up. His balls clenched, and he felt the semen surge up his urethra.

Spurt—

The instant his seed hit her insides, her eyes snapped back into focus. She glanced down at her belly and broke into a soft, satisfied smile.

Holy crap—they said it was a preview, but Ji-yu was Song-class after all…

"I really love this. Right now I'm genuinely grateful to Hye-yun. For letting me meet you."

"I enjoyed you too. Hye-yun's going to like you. Now that you're family."

Mwah…

Hye-yun would like her—in more ways than one. Ji-yu crushed her lips against his hard, and they kept kissing.

"Haaah… lie back down. I want more."

Sex addict. Most people couldn't even think straight after a climax that intense, yet she was already demanding another round. Strong mental fortitude, just like they'd said…

"Hold on. Get dressed first. I want to check with the monk outside, then we continue."

The sutra chanting still drifting in from beyond the door was getting on his nerves. She scowled, then nodded.

"Tch. That old bastard who tormented me with a useless tape that didn't do a damn thing… Still, I guess I have to show my face if I want him to leave."

Hwa-ryun's Buddhist power had looked formidable. But the moment the conversation turned to Monk Hwa-ryun, Ji-yu's face soured, and the harsh review kept coming.

"…Fine."

He pulled out of her with a wet sound—slick, then a trickle—and felt her belly deflate sharply as he set her down on the bed. She slid to the floor and started sucking up the semen.

"Wow!!! Now I get why Na-yeon was so greedy about it… It really is delicious. Even tastes a little like peach. Are all guys like this? Mwah…"

"No way. I'm a special constitution."

The image of her licking cum that had dripped from Na-yeon's pussy overlapped with the scene in front of him. Slurp. Slurp.

He opened his inventory, pulled out a one-piece dress, panties, and a bra, and set them on the bed beside her, then started dressing himself.

"Eat the rest later. Put these on for now."

"Slurp… okay."

Still scowling, she picked up the clothes he pointed to and put them on. He took a wet wipe from the nightstand and cleaned her face.

Pat. Pat.

She patted her stomach, looking satisfied, and eyed the semen still left behind.

"I could live on just this."

"…Y-yeah. Go ahead, then."

Jini's words floated back—how someone could theoretically live on semen alone.

"Besides your wives, you've got a lot of other women, right?"

"Yeah. Concubines. Bitches."

"Can I suck it out of their pussies too?"

"Hmm… they like the cum themselves, though. If their big sister steals it, won't they start complaining?"

Her pretty face twisted into something almost ugly—how a face that beautiful could crumple like that was a mystery.

"Then can I at least do the morning blowjob every day?"

"…Sure. Knock yourself out."

Only then did her beautiful face return. She grinned, hooked her arm through his, and opened the door.

Monk Hwa-ryun, who had been sitting outside, looked Ji-yu over and gave a nod. Na-yeon—who clearly hadn't trusted the hundred-percent claim—let out a long breath of relief and sank down where she stood.

"Namu Amitabha. Benefactor Na-yeon. She is fully cured. I sense no evil spirit of any kind."

"Thank you, Monk. And thank you, Master."

Na-yeon's legs were still shaking as she stood. She bowed a full ninety degrees to Hwa-ryun. She had tossed out the word "Master" without thinking, but the monk didn't seem to mind.

"And Benefactor Ji-yu. Have you been seeing anything strange?"

"What are you on about, you bald—Monk. Trying to torment me with sutras again…?"

The way she was talking to a monk made him tighten his grip on the arm linked through his, a silent warning. Even so, Hwa-ryun seemed unbothered. His face grew serious as he stepped close and whispered into Ian's ear.

"Benefactor. I am concerned that Benefactor Ji-yu's Soul Eyes may have opened. If she starts seeing earthbound spirits or wandering ghosts and gets snagged by one, she could be possessed again. With you here treatment is always possible, of course—but residual psychological damage is another matter."

Ji-yu edged closer, trying to eavesdrop. He locked his arm tighter to hold her back, then lowered his head and whispered to Hwa-ryun.

He had always wondered how anyone lived with Soul Eyes permanently open. The worry was real—if it could leave Ji-yu with mental problems…

"How do you check for that?"

"Hoh. The benefactor asks not for a solution, but shows interest in the opening of the Soul Eyes themselves. Excellent, excellent. Namu Amitabha."

Hwa-ryun looked at him with playful eyes. Ian scratched his head with his free hand and answered again.

"A solution… would also be nice, if you have one."

"My full attention was on the Aegwi, but she seemed to flinch when she briefly saw my guardian spirit, so I asked His permission—the General is waiting outside for now."

Ian's eyes went wide. A monk walking around with a general's spirit attached? Wasn't that more of a shaman's thing?

"You needn't look so shocked. On this narrow peninsula, exorcism runs mainly along two lines—Buddhism and shamanism. If it catches ghosts, you use it. Amitabha. As for the solution: I will mail a talisman to this address. Have her keep it on her person at all times."

"Thank you, Monk."

Exorcism. Both shamanic and Buddhist methods, used freely. He thought it over for a moment. Buddhism, Taoism, and shamanism had always been a blend in East Asian religion—he accepted it and offered his thanks.

"Then I should be on my way. I've already been here a full week."

"Yes. Thank you, Monk."

Hwa-ryun came over, patted Ian's shoulder, then gathered his things and stood. Na-yeon took the monk's hands and kept bowing, her face full of genuine gratitude.

"Benefactor Ian—I will contact you from time to time when I need your help."

"Yes, Monk."

Once the monk was gone, Na-yeon looked at Ian with tears in her eyes. She stepped forward to embrace him—and Ji-yu suddenly slapped her across the face.

Crack.

"You filthy bitch."

"Ahk… hic."

"Why would you do that to the mother who did everything for you?"

Na-yeon clutched her cheek and sank to the floor. Tears streamed down. He moved to help her up, but Ji-yu clamped her arm through his even tighter and held him back.

"I still can't forget what she did to me earlier."

What? She should be mad at me.

She seemed to have chosen Na-yeon as her outlet. Breathing hard, she glared down at her.

"Be mad at me. I can take it."

"Hmph. You said she's under me now. I'll do what I want. Look—one slap and that slut's already soaking her pants."

He turned his head to look between Na-yeon's legs. Her pants really were darkening with wetness. Na-yeon ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hurriedly tried to cover herself with her hands. The stain was spreading for real.

"Hic… Master. Please don't look at my pussy."

"Hands off. Na-yeon, don't hide your filthy nature in front of our man."

Na-yeon lifted her head. Tearful face—but a flash of lewd light slid through her eyes.

Crazy. Why are there so many perverts around me?

"Baby. Na-yeon's a freak who gets off on being hit. I just remembered from when I was little—Dad used to beat her with something like a switch, and she'd sob with pleasure."

"Th-that was… more than three years ago. You actually saw that?"

Na-yeon's pupils trembled. She stood up, not knowing what to do with herself. Ji-yu nodded, murder in her expression.

"It came back to me while you and our man were fucking over my face. You did the same thing back then—after you finished with Dad, you crawled up over my body and dripped your juices all over me from above."

"Insane…"

Thud. Na-yeon's head dropped. She stayed like that a moment, then lifted her face again—and looked back and forth between Ian and Ji-yu with something like anticipation in her eyes.

"Yes… Master. I'm a masochist. And a pervert who's obsessed with her own daughter, Ji-yu."

"…"

Jeong-mi came to mind. But Jeong-mi had been broken by a lust spirit. This woman was calmly admitting she was a genuine pervert fixated on her own daughter.

Na-yeon went into the master bedroom and came back with a box. Dust-caked. She set it down and opened it.

Spanking tools. Switches, implements with broad flat faces, whips. Ball gags. Black latex outfits. The box was old and the tools looked aged, but they had been polished and maintained until they gleamed. There was even a dog tail.

Insane…

Ji-yu eyed them with interest, then picked up something like a switch and handed him the one with the broad flat face.

"What's this one called?"

"The one Master is holding is a riding crop. The one Big Sister is holding is a cane."

Whoosh. Whoosh.

He tested the feel—the tip of the crop was leather, broad and flat. He reached out and touched the cane; hard plastic.

"Don't tell me you want me to hit you with these."

She nodded.

"Yes, Master. Everything except the upper ass and the tailbone—from mid-ass down through the thighs. Beat me until the bruises go purple."

She dropped to her knees, spread them, and bowed low—the classic dogeza posture.

This is insane. She's worse than Jeong-mi.

"Hmm… I can leave you to Jeong-mi."

"Jeong-mi—Hye-yun's mom? …Are you a pervert who's into mother-daughter pairs?"

Ji-yu stared at him with wide, startled eyes. She called him a pervert, and he couldn't quite deny it, so he just nodded.

"Hmph. Makes sense. You're a pervert—that's how you ended up meeting me…"

"Yeah."

Ji-yu leaned her face against him and stretched out a foot to plant it on Na-yeon's head—not hard, just enough to pin her. Then she looked back over her shoulder and grinned.

"What? You used to do this too?"

"Yeah. Before she divorced Dad she couldn't move an inch—lived like a slave. She'll cream herself getting hit by just about anyone, this bitch."

"U-Unnie, Master. Not every masochist gets off on just any beating. If the affection is gone, the pleasure doesn't rise from the pain. That's why I divorced him. Being hit stopped feeling good and only hurt."

"Then find a new man."

Curious, he stepped closer. She shook her head at his words.

"Not just anyone will accept tastes this twisted. From the force Master showed earlier… I thought you might."

It sounded like she was trying to feed him the idea that he was a pervert. But her expression was dead serious, so he simply nodded.

"Fine. I don't know much about this stuff, so have Jeong-mi do the beating."

"…Yes. But please—at least slap me across the face once in a while."

"…Ugh… alright."