Experience Transfer: 1 Person, 0 People, 0 People (8)
The beautiful girl in the bathroom mirror glowed brightly, her eyes sparkling with pure curiosity. I pressed a hand to my flushed cheek—redder than alcohol alone could explain—and felt certain it really was me staring back.
“Seeing this expression… it’s really embarrassing…”
Right behind me, the man who had just tucked his vicious cock back into his underwear stepped closer. Now that his mask was off, the dizzying male scent of him flooded my nose.
“You’re embarrassed, yet you still did something like that?”
“Well… yeah. Isn’t it more fun when I’m embarrassed?”
“…You’re such a fucking pervert.”
Click.
The bathroom door locked, turning the space into a perfect sealed room. Whether a murder or a sticky, secret affair happened inside… no one outside would ever know.
“Umm… hey, Juhyuk Oppa.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m going to perform a quick body search. …Hand over your pants, please.”
“Why?”
“…I’m confiscating your phone. I’m an idol, after all. If you secretly record me, it would be really bad, you know? And since you already have a criminal record, if you want to enjoy this, hurry up and give them to me.”
I took the pants from the man who wore that mysterious smile and rummaged through the pockets. I pulled out the pure white phone and hid it deep inside the towel bin. I had meant to do the same with my own phone—leaving only the voice recorder on—but then I remembered I’d left it on the sofa by accident.
“…Ah, right. My phone.”
“What about your phone?”
“I was going to record just in case. We need proof that this is consensual… and besides, it’s a secret we can never tell anyone, right?”
No matter how secret something was, I couldn’t blindly trust someone I’d basically just met. I wanted to be secretly broken in a place no one knew about. I didn’t want to be mocked in front of the whole world.
On stage, I was always the bright, adorable idol. Off stage, I was a perverted little minx obsessed with cock. The thrilling gap between those two selves was what excited me. If I stayed at rock bottom all the time, I wouldn’t even be able to feel that dangerous thrill.
“If you want to record, just use mine.”
“Eh… that’s…”
“The password is 161027. Unlock it yourself. When we’re done, delete it, send it to your phone—do whatever you want.”
…In that sense, the way Juhyuk Oppa so boldly revealed his own weaknesses made him surprisingly trustworthy. He had already said enough out loud to get himself arrested, yet he casually tossed me the dangerous device I’d hidden and even gave me the password.
“…You’re serious.”
“Lying wouldn’t do me any good anyway. You’d find out immediately.”
“Ehehe, that’s true…”
I thought about snooping through his now-unlocked phone but decided against it. There was no way anything worse than what I’d already heard would pop up. If I found something even more dangerous than him gently coaxing a drunk Haeun and filming her virginity being destroyed while her eyes were covered by a pillow… I’d probably get murdered right here.
No matter how much of a pervert I was, I wasn’t willing to risk my life for pleasure.
“Huu…”
“Ah, should I take this off?”
“It feels weird just wearing a t-shirt, doesn’t it?”
…Looking at that body with the knife scar on the shoulder, I had the feeling he could actually kill me with his bare hands if he wanted to.
“Oh, I already started recording… Um. Should we introduce ourselves first?”
“…At this point?”
“Let’s do it? It’ll be fun.”
“…Are we filming an AV or something?”
“Well… a lot of antis tell me to retire and just shoot porn instead. …Want to try filming one? Nothing dangerous—just voices for now.”
“…Not a bad idea.”
So this was my final safety measure. Since both Jia and Haeun were in the same house, nothing truly dangerous would happen anyway. But just in case. A fair contract where we each held the other’s weaknesses. It felt dozens of times fairer than any idol contract. At least pressing a button here would make both of us explode together.
No complicated legal terms like confidentiality agreements, penalty clauses, or NDAs. Just a clean recording of a man and woman crazy for pleasure.
“I’ll ask you first, Oppa… Please state your name and age.”
“…Kang Juhyuk. Born in ’94. Twenty-six.”
“In full years?”
“January birthday, so I’m twenty-five.”
“Ah, I was born in December, so I’m still nineteen.”
Using the interviewer concept I sometimes did on variety shows, I recorded Juhyuk Oppa’s personal information. My own details slipped in naturally too, but once our voices were on tape, it didn’t really matter. It was just an appetizer to heighten the excitement.
“Hmm, height and weight?”
“193 centimeters. Around 100 kilos… but I’ve lost some lately. 98 kilos.”
“…Oh, you don’t look heavy at all. That’s really heavy though. I’m 46 kilos. Twice my weight?”
“Athletes are usually heavy.”
“I exercise a ton too, if you think about it. …It’s part of my job.”
“Maintaining your figure and building muscle are two different things.”
No one else would ever hear this, but if someone did, what would they feel listening to it? A bright, lovely voice so recognizable you’d know who it was instantly. Korean pronunciation that sounded natural but carried the slightest trace of a foreigner. That signature giggling laugh.
No matter how you listened, it was the voice of a popular member from a famous girl group. They’d probably refuse to believe it was real. They’d insist, ‘XXX is only 40kg!’ and try to deny it. The same fans who never believed the official profile would suddenly start believing every word.
“Hehe… I see. …Then how big is this? Did it grow because you exercise?”
“Never measured it properly, so I don’t know exactly.”
“Hmm, one span… two spans… It doesn’t even reach two spans. How many centimeters is one span again? I’m Japanese, so I don’t really know. Ehehe.”
“How would I know?”
“Ahaha… My hands are small, but maybe 10 centimeters? 15? So this has to be at least 20…”
“Around there.”
While recording my characteristic laugh and breathing, I measured the length of Oppa’s cock using my thumb and pinky. Even at its shortest, it was 20 centimeters. If I pushed just one span from my pubic bone, it would reach my belly button—and this was much longer. I swallowed hard at the enormous size and pressed down on my pounding heart to calm it.
“Anyway, with this incredibly big, thick thing… how many times have you had sex, Oppa?”
“If we’re counting by women, roughly ten.”
“…That’s surprisingly realistic?”
“I never cheated. Never even dated anyone. They were all sex friends.”
“Eh, then aren’t you cheating right now? …This is your live-in girlfriend’s house.”
“I told you we’re not dating. She hates me. I don’t feel much anymore either.”
“Puhuhu…”
I carefully recorded the voice of the man who, while getting his cock stroked by another woman in his live-in girlfriend’s house, answered without a single stutter or hint of shame. A trashy man who wasn’t kind, wasn’t affectionate, and didn’t even pretend to be polite—just big in build and cock. In reality he had a bold side that was strangely attractive, but there was no way anyone listening to this recording would ever notice.
Just a girl with a voice that sounded way too much like a famous idol was…
“Um, then. Can I touch it a little more? Since you’re not cheating, right?”
“Do whatever you want.”
“Ah, then… I’ll take good care of you.”
Schlick. Schlick.
The only sounds captured were the filthy, wet noises of me stroking a completely depraved man’s cock.
“…How is it?”
“…Honestly? It’s fucking terrible.”
“Ah, that’s so mean! Do you have any idea how many people buy dozens of albums just to touch these thin little fingers?”
“When you put it that way, maybe it’s not so bad.”
“Wow, what a huge pervert…”
A little annoyed by his criticism, I set the cock and phone down and knelt on the bathroom tiles. When I looked up at him in the same pose that got the most attention during cute concept photoshoots, he let out a strange snort, pulled a towel from the bin, and tossed it to me.
I stared at it in confusion, not understanding what he meant, until Juhyuk Oppa gave me another mysterious smile and firmly stepped on my thigh.
“Ouch, ouch, ouch! Where are you stepping with your foot right now!”
“Sit on it. If you sit directly on the tile floor like that, you’ll bruise.”
“…I feel like I’m going to get bruised because of you, Oppa?”
“If you bruise, you bruise. Your fans would probably like that.”
“Wow, this guy is a perverted genius.”
“…Still less perverted than an idol who goes crazy for cock. And you’re so tiny.”
“157 centimeters isn’t that small… My legs are pretty long, you know? Good proportions too.”
The way he threw my own words right back at me sent a dark, filthy desire bubbling up from deep inside my chest, tickling my heart. At this point, it felt like everyone would know who I was even if I never said my name. No matter how many masks I wore walking down the street, eyes always followed me. Both in Korea and, lately, in Japan too.
…I’m just too famous.
“You look small to me.”
“That’s because you’re too big, you hentai…”
“…Do you really have to say ‘pervert’ in Japanese?”
“Well, it’s my native language? …And besides.”
If I weren’t famous, this wouldn’t be nearly as fun.
“…AVs are usually shot in Japan, right? So it’s like fan service?”
“Just recording audio doesn’t make it an AV.”
“…Then do you want to film one? You said my hands were terrible, so… I’ll use this instead.”
Even if he shoved two fingers into my mouth and stretched it wide, it probably wouldn’t have felt that thrilling.
“…Even though it’s lip-sync, tens of thousands of people gather just to hear the voice that comes from between these lips… It’d be a waste not to film it, wouldn’t it?”
“…”
The looks that covered up my mediocre singing ability—
“Ah, what are you doing picking up the phone and filming without answering?!”
“What’s your name.”
“Um, Oppa…”
“Name.”
“…Nakazawa Hinami.”
The name Nakazawa Hinami that constantly appeared in articles—
“Occupation.”
“…I’m an idol. I belong to Girl’s Knight. Not-quite-the-maknae position… Cute main dancer?”
—sent my mood soaring all the way to the clouds.
“…What are you going to do?”
“From now on, I’m going to clean Juhyuk Oppa’s cock… the one that belongs to a man who has a girlfriend… with my mouth…”
It made me want to dive headfirst into the deep end.
“I told you I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Ah, right… Then should I clean the cock of the man who keeps a sex slave?”
“I don’t keep her around.”
“Ah, you’re not denying it. What a huge pervert… Puhuu… Mmph… Mmmph…”
It made me want to be devoured by a bad-tempered male who didn’t see me as a superior, perfect idol, but simply as a clean-skinned, lewd female.
…Completely, utterly ruined.