Her Secret Account Has Collapsed

She had passed out cold.

Whether from pain she couldn’t endure, pleasure she couldn’t withstand, or simply because she had screamed herself hoarse—I wasn’t sure. Maybe she was just pretending to sleep because she didn’t want to do it anymore. Whatever the reason, Seo Jia lay completely naked, limbs sprawled limply across the bed.

“Jia, you’re not really pretending to be asleep, are you?”

“Leave her be.”

Just as Hinami said, it wouldn’t have been impossible to shake her awake or fuck her while she was passed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out. But I didn’t. I was exhausted too. If Hinami hadn’t climbed on top of me, I might have kept going, but after burning through so much stamina, I simply didn’t have the energy left for more.

Instead, I transferred every video I’d taken on her phone to mine, cleaned up the wrecked room, washed myself lightly, and put on my clothes.

“Let’s head down. We’re not sleeping here, are we?”

“Yeah… I’m tired too.”

I was genuinely surprised at myself for not having sex while we showered together—something that almost never happened. I adjusted my half-hard cock inside my underwear, let out a deep sigh, and left the room of the apartment’s owner.

I had already taken everything she had left to protect.

From now on, she could never defy me or refuse me. As long as I didn’t expose her secrets first, she would be trapped by this nightmare for the rest of her life. Just like the scar that would never disappear from my shoulder. She, too, would never be able to push away the man who had carved the first wound into her body.

The path that led away from the man she hated most in the world would be far filthier, harsher, and gloomier than the one where she walked beside him. In the end, the only thing she could do was hand me her leash and hope I chose a path with fewer sharp stones.

Of course, I was willing to grant her that much.

What I hated was Seo Yeeun—the woman who had left the scar on my shoulder. Not Nakazawa Hinami’s groupmate, not the idol with the body type I preferred, and certainly not Seo Jia, who had even offered me her virginity.

“Unnie’s probably asleep, right?”

“Once she’s out cold, you could climb on top of her and she still wouldn’t wake up.”

“…Isn’t that just her pretending not to wake up?”

“Same difference.”

We quietly made our way downstairs, opened the front door, and returned to our separate rooms. Hinami kept her mouth tightly shut in case Haeun might wake up and simply gave me a smile with her eyes. I returned the same eye-smile and went into my own room, sat down in the chair, and turned on the computer.

I was pretty tired, but this was something I needed to finish quickly.

I connected my phone to the computer and transferred all the newly received videos and photos. Then I muted the sound, sped up the playback to 2x, and rapidly skipped through them, capturing only the good parts. A lot of the footage was shaky and the quality was garbage, but since I was going to deliberately ruin it anyway, it didn’t matter.

After capturing dozens of photos like that, I erased every piece of evidence that could identify her. I whited out all the faces, rubbed out the scar on my shoulder, cropped or deleted any shots where hands were visible, and removed the mole on her thigh. I applied heavy blur to her navel and ears so they couldn’t be recognized. Her body shape didn’t really need much editing, but I tweaked it slightly anyway, then increased the exposure until her skin tone was blindingly white. Finally, I composited a black heart-shaped tattoo onto her lower belly.

For the photos that still had decent quality, I artificially added noise. Then I bundled up the edited images and sent them all to her DMs.

Compared to the originals, these were practically redrawn from scratch. No matter who in this country looked at them, they would never be able to tell. Even she herself probably wouldn’t notice if I hadn’t been the one who sent them. At this point, it was essentially a different person.

After creating some stranger who wasn’t Seo Jia and shoving her into the idol’s DMs, I added a short message and collapsed onto the bed.

…Whether she used them or not was up to her, but I doubted she could resist. Not after she had already tasted the thrill of deviance. Watching to see if she would reach for the drug I’d handed her was its own kind of fun.

After all, she would be even more anxious if she didn’t use them.

My waist hurt like it was going to snap in half. Even after intense choreography practice, I had never felt anything like this. The moment someone so much as brushed against me, I felt like my entire body would shatter. Trembling with that fear, I rolled off the bed and barely managed to grab the phone on my desk.

“…”

I didn’t want to remember what had happened yesterday. But no matter how much I wished to forget, the records remained brutally vivid. What had been done to me. What he had done. Without a single typo or mistake, captured clearly on video.

Staring at the evidence that filled my photo gallery, I clutched my side and clicked my tongue bitterly.

…How the hell did I end up like this?

What was I supposed to do from now on?

While the world outside the bright window looked sunny, my future felt pitch black. I slowly went through the mountain of notifications.

“…Ha.”

Just as I expected—my DMs were overflowing. There was only one notification worth posting to my main Twitter account. After hesitating for a moment, I opened the app and checked my messages. The moment I saw the flood of photos inside, a question mark floated across my face.

“What the…?”

The images looked like they’d been taken with a beauty filter—pale, almost painfully bright. Even my black hair appeared gray under the heavy whitening. When I tapped one and looked closer, the woman’s body was far too familiar.

…There was no need to say it. Of course it was me.

The mole was gone, my skin tone was unnaturally white, and there was a strange tattoo on my stomach, but it was unmistakably me. Even though it looked nothing like me, I could still tell—because the memories came rushing back. That was the photo from when I lost my virginity. This one was from when he took me from behind. I scrolled past the obscene, downright vulgar images, then saw the final DM and clapped a hand over my mouth.

His provocation. Or perhaps his command. The words could be read either way.

I clutched my tingling lower belly and simply imagined what would happen if I didn’t obey him.

…He could upload them himself. Maybe even the originals. Without blurring the face. Without removing the mole. Photos that would make it impossible to deny the naked woman was Seo Jia.

“Huu…”

I took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

Even after receiving a mountain of pictures that could destroy my life with a single click, strangely, my heart remained calm. Maybe yesterday’s horror had killed the emotion called fear inside me. Or maybe it was because I could roughly read his behavioral pattern from the way he had gone through the trouble of editing the videos before sending them. The very fact that he sent these was practically him shouting that he had no intention of uploading them himself.

All I had to do was casually upload them to an account no one knew about. That way, I could escape the terror of him grabbing my leash at any moment and throwing me outside the fence.

So instead, I calmly downloaded every photo from the DM, created yet another new anonymous account, and uploaded the least explicit one first. Even if it was the “least explicit,” it still clearly showed me having sex—only my nipples and pussy were hidden.

“…”

After uploading my own photo with my own hands, I replied to his DM with the account ID exactly as he wanted.

…If this is enough to satisfy you, then I don’t care.

I never really valued my virginity anyway. It was an experience I would have had someday. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fact that the person was Kang Juhyuk is so disgusting I want to vomit, but… I force myself to think that it’s still better than some pot-bellied old man.

…Because if I didn’t think that way, I wouldn’t be able to endure it.

It was far more comforting to dismiss the fact that the man I hated and despised most in the world had taken my virginity, used me however he wanted, violated me thoroughly, and treated me like a toy—as if it were no big deal.

The moment I sent the DM, his short reply came back instantly. I bit my lip and endlessly repeated the same words inside my head.

Nothing happened yesterday. I just got a little drunk and had an accident. That’s all. Every twenty-year-old girl goes through something like that. Hinami’s the same, isn’t she? All the unnies in the same group did it too. Even my real sister. Even if this was my first time… it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠doesn’t matter to me.

…Really. I’m fine….

I had no appetite at all, so I only drank a little soy milk before collapsing back into bed.

Why… why did it turn out like this?

The time before last, my follower count had luckily increased… but last time it wasn’t like this. Why are the views suddenly skyrocketing? Who the hell is spreading these…?

“Haa…”

I searched the internet just in case, but the photos hadn’t been posted to any community. Instead, only hateful comments about me flooded out, gnawing at my nerves. It really was just coincidence. Or perhaps inevitability. A bunch of men drawn to a woman’s naked body had simply flocked to it.

Just like the time before last, the new secret account I made this time was steadily accumulating followers and DMs. Should I delete it right now? Even though I had erased my face, navel, ears, and hands… was it really possible for someone as famous as me to stay hidden?

The fear I had never imagined when I casually snapped and uploaded photos to the previous account without any precautions now filled my chest and squeezed my heart. Just like yesterday. My breath caught in my throat. The pressure was so strong I could barely hold myself upright. It felt as if stress had taken physical form and was crushing my entire body. I pulled the blanket over my head and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠checked the steadily piling DMs one by one.

Just like before, they were all filled with weirdos trying to hit on me or sending pictures of their own dicks.

…Seriously, what the actual fuck.

Why the hell are these guys with tiny cocks sending me this shit? Guys who aren’t even handsome or fit—what the hell makes them think they have a chance with me?

I tried to vent my stress by cursing them out, but the lump stuck in my throat refused to come out. I couldn’t escape from inside the blanket.

“…”

…How can I get out of this nauseating pressure?

A memory flashed through my mind and gave me the answer, but the moment I realized it, I shook my head violently and forced myself to forget. I absolutely hated that option. My waist already hurt, and my lower belly was cramping so badly I thought I might die.

Rather than… if it were just me, maybe not….

“…Ugh…”

To erase the memory that kept creeping up from the depths of my mind, I hugged the pillow I was lying on and closed my eyes. I pressed the pillow firmly between my thighs. I poured all the pressure weighing on my body into the cotton stuffing. I pushed the hugged pillow a little deeper between my legs. Swallowed hard. Kept my mouth tightly shut. Just like what had been done to me yesterday.

I slowly began to spit out the thing lodged in my throat.

“……Hah, huu…”

The strength left my thighs that had been gripping the pillow so tightly. My ragged breathing quickly returned to normal.

…It wasn’t refreshing. More like emptiness.

The baseless fear that had wrapped around my body had all flown away, but this strange languor didn’t feel good at all.

…It wasn’t enough. I couldn’t be satisfied with just this.

“Ha, seriously…”

Not wanting to dwell on that emptiness any longer, I picked up my phone again and reread the mountain of DMs.

…This time it was different. I could look at them with truly objective eyes.

Ah. These people. None of them have realized it’s me. There’s no way they could realize it. The hair color is different. The skin tone is different. The mole is gone, and there’s even that weird tattoo on my stomach.

…Because it’s absolutely not me.