Subjugating the Stepmother (1)

I learned of his ability about ten years ago. Even after all this time, the memory remains vivid, unfolding before my eyes as if it were happening right now. How could it not? From my childhood and even now, well past the age of thirty, I often think back to that moment while stroking myself off.

I've held many women in my arms since then, but I can confidently say that the thrill of that time was on another level entirely.

We were both young men just entering our twenties back then. I was exactly a year older. His name was Jang Il, meaning the eldest son of the Jang family, and he had two younger siblings below him.

Though his house was small, they owned their own farmland, and its yield was enough to keep the family fed without going hungry. Born into ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠such a household, Jang Il had helped with the farmwork from a young age. Blessed with a taller frame and sturdy bones than his peers, plus a diligent and persevering nature, he pulled more than his weight handily.

But misfortune in life strikes when you least expect it—just as it did for Jang Il.

The severe drought that ravaged Henan didn't spare his fields. With a failed harvest, his family had no choice but to borrow money. And unfortunately, the lender was the ruthless usurer from the Chae family.

The Chae fellow had that sharp instinct typical of his kind. He'd lend at normal rates to those who gave him a vague uneasy feeling down his spine, but for anyone who struck him as an easy mark at first glance, he'd slyly doctor the documents to slap on outrageous interest.

Regrettably, Jang Il's father fell into the latter category. When he finally realized the thunderbolt of this fact, he appealed to the local magistrate, but the official—already bribed by the Chae family—threatened him instead, demanding he repay the loan without defaulting.

In the end, Jang Il's family lost their precious farmland to the Chae family right before their eyes. The shock proved fatal; his father fell ill and soon passed away, leaving Jang Il as the head of the household at a tender age.

It was my father, the chief of the Chase Wind Escort Agency, Bang Seok-cheon, who extended a helping hand to Jang Il at that time. This connection was what first linked him to me.

Having long admired Jang Il's diligence and integrity, Father offered to take him on as his personal servant, perhaps seeing potential in him as a future escort guard or even a full-fledged biaosa.

With nowhere else to turn, Jang Il gratefully accepted Father's invitation, and our life together under one roof began.

My first impression of him was favorable. Despite his status as a servant, he wasn't servile. His smile before superiors felt genuine, not forced.

"Greetings, young master Bang."

His voice carried the fresh clarity of a cool breeze.

"You're a new face."

"Yes, sir. Starting today, I'm Jang Il, servant in the household of Chief Bang."

"Ah, so you're the Jang Il."

"Yes, that's me. I look forward to serving you well, young master."

"Hmm..."

At that moment, I felt a spark of curiosity toward Jang Il's eyes. Clear as a blue lake, yet harboring some deep shadow. Looking back now, perhaps I instinctively sensed the mystery in those eyes from the start.

But at the time, whatever lurked beneath the surface lay dormant, hidden from my grasp.

Jang Il was truly diligent. He handled his duties near perfectly. In his spare time, he faithfully kept me company, chatting as needed.

Though uneducated and rough around the edges, he wasn't dim-witted. Quick on the uptake, he deftly steered conversations on unfamiliar topics without letting them stall.

I grew fond of him, and no doubt part of that was because he was my age.

I taught him to read in bits and pieces, and he was deeply grateful. Father seemed quite taken with him too, granting him access to our family's treasured arts: the Chase Wind Heart Method and Chase Wind Sword Method—nothing world-renowned, but heirlooms passed down with care.

He clearly intended to groom Jang Il as a proper future escort.

Overwhelmed with gratitude, Jang Il kowtowed repeatedly to Father, even shedding tears of joy.

And then came the eve of that fateful day.

Father was often away on escort missions. That night, he'd departed for Sichuan, so he wasn't home. I'd stayed behind to focus on my martial training, not joining the caravan.

Around midnight, I awoke from a pounding headache—the first in ages—that shattered my sleep.

Maybe some fresh night air would help. I straightened my clothes and opened my door, only to catch sight of the door to my stepmother's room across the inner courtyard swinging open, illuminated starkly by the bright full moon.

What the...?

A strange ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠unease gripped me. Though not my birth mother, my stepmother had raised me with the devotion of a true parent after my own mother's passing. Worry gnawed at me.

A black silhouette emerged. But its build was far too bulky for a woman.

A thief? I snatched the longsword from the corner of my room and trailed the figure with cautious steps. The Chase Wind Body Method I'd labored over since childhood served me well.

The shadow noticed nothing, heading toward an abandoned haunted house at the village edge—a place shunned by locals after a string of deadly accidents, whispered to be cursed.

Such a secluded spot... Was this a secret meeting of some shadowy martial underworld group? Tension weighed on my shoulders.

But turning back wasn't an option. I crept closer and peered through the crumbling doorframe of the derelict house.

And...

"Huh!"

I let out a baffled grunt. The black figure had dropped his pants and was vigorously jerking off.

The absurdity hit me like an axe to the skull, leaving me dizzy.

"Eek!"

Finally spotting me, he whipped around in shock, our ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠eyes locking before he tumbled to the floor. His exposed, raging erection bobbed defiantly amid his disheveled clothes.

"Y-Y-Y-Young m-master...?! Th-this is... this is..."

"Y-You...?"

I stared in stunned disbelief. The black figure was none other than Jang Il.

As we stood frozen for what felt like ages, a surge of rage crashed over me. The situation finally sank in.

My voice turned icy cold. "Why are you sneaking out of Mother's room at this hour? And what the hell are you doing right now...?"

What had he done in Mother's room? I couldn't voice the end of that thought, swallowing it down in horror.

Terror-stricken, Jang Il threw himself to his knees. His once-erect member wilted pathetically. He banged his forehead on the ground repeatedly until blood trickled from it.

"H-how could I... Madam is like a benefactor to me, second only to Chief Bang. How could I ever..."

His usual calm, clear voice trembled with panic and stammers—a complete reversal.

Seeing his fluster only fueled my fury. I bellowed, "No bullshit—tell me straight!"

"..."

"Mother is a chaste woman. She'd never invite a strange man to her chambers at this hour. So how the hell did you end up in there...?"

Was my stepmother fooling around with a lowly servant? From the esteemed Kang family of Henan—not top-tier nobility, but respectable—she'd been raised with refinement. The idea of her with a baseborn like him was inconceivable.

My hand had already drawn the sword.

"Explain properly, or you die here. Even if you confess, you die."

"Y-Young master..."

Jang Il shut his eyes in despair, taking deep breaths to steady himself. When he opened them, his composure had partially returned.

"I've received immeasurable grace from Chief Bang—and from you, young master, no less. I have no regrets dying by your hand here. But before I go... I must clear any misunderstanding about Madam. Even a wretch like me knows that's the right thing. I'll tell you everything, without a single lie."

"Misunderstanding?"

"Yes. Madam didn't call me there of her own will. I forced..."

"You threatened Mother?"

"Not a threat exactly... How to put it... It was..."

Jang Il began explaining what had happened between him and my stepmother, his face grave. But his account was so absurd it beggared belief.

He confessed to possessing the ability to dominate someone's will through eye contact. He'd discovered it recently by sheer coincidence—in that very haunted house—with my stepmother present.

Unable to suppress his impure urges, he'd manipulated her at will, implanting suggestions in her mind to toy with her repeatedly afterward. But he insisted he hadn't raped her and had no intention to. He'd simply been overwhelmed by curiosity about the beautiful body hidden beneath her fine silk robes, giving in to impulse without laying a finger on her—just peeking at her naked form.

Then, in a frenzy of arousal, he'd snuck here to release his pent-up seed through a frantic handjob. And one more thing: he quietly admitted he couldn't resist the intoxicating thrill of controlling someone utterly.

"Then why not use that power on me to cover this up? I can't believe a word you say."

"Young master, I swear it's true. And my power doesn't work on men. Even if it did, how could I ever..."

"Doesn't work on men?"

"Yes. After what happened with Madam, curiosity got the better of me, and I tested it... but on men..."

"..."

"Please believe me! Not a word of this is a lie."

I should kill him. He'd confessed his crime outright—a heinous betrayal, stripping and toying with the lady of the house naked.

Though not my blood son, it was my duty as her son to behead him swiftly. That was the law of the world.

Yet I hesitated. Amid the boiling rage, a different emotion surged like a wave.

Hard to credit, but if it was true...

A lowly servant had toyed with the lady of the Chase Wind Escort Agency at will. Made her undress without a touch.

If Jang Il truly had such power... then...

Any woman in the world could be dominated. Any chaste lady bent to his whim.

Domination. The word seized my mind with a spine-chilling, magnetic ecstasy.

Yes... I won't kill him now. Verify the truth first, then decide.

I sheathed my sword. "Tomorrow, I'll confirm if you're telling the truth."

"Pardon?"

"I have to check the facts before deciding your fate."

"Ah... Yes. Thank you, young master."

Jang Il nodded with oddly fearful eyes. What expression had I worn? Even now, I don't know.

And the next morning—the day I still can't forget, even a decade later.

Should I have killed Jang Il that night? Then the day I awakened to the ugly desire hidden in my heart might never have come.

I could have inherited Father's agency and lived a mundane life as an ordinary escort chief.

But such regrets are pointless now.

I visited my stepmother every morning at dawn to pay respects—a ritual habit. The only differences today were Jang Il accompanying me, and my strict orders to the other servants and maids: no one approaches her room without my say-so.

With Father away, it was feasible.

"Mother, any coughs last night?"

"Come in, child."

"Yes."

I signaled Jang Il to wait outside, then slipped quietly into her room without a creak.

The impeccably tidy space reflected her refined nature, scented faintly with morning dew.

The atmosphere made my lewd imaginings from last night feel shamefully out of place. I bowed deeply, hiding my inner turmoil.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Always peacefully, dear. Sit."

She smiled gracefully, the poise of a virtuous noblewoman. Though a mother in middle age, her beauty hadn't faded: porcelain skin, sharp features, every gesture impeccably elegant, enhancing her allure.

That was why, they said, Father's remarriage to Kang So-bin, the second daughter of the Kang family—who'd captivated men with her refined beauty—had fueled jealous whispers for years, despite it being his second union.

Truly, could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she have willingly bared her secret nakedness to a lowly servant like Jang Il? Unthinkable.

But if one could glimpse her hidden intimacies without restraint—what an incredible rush that would be.

As my body matured and lust awakened, I'd spent countless nights with her in my fantasies. Knowing it was profound irreverence from Confucian teachings, yet I couldn't replace her with anyone else.

Inevitable, really. She was the most beautiful woman around me.

Ah, Lady Kang. Kang lady. Kang sister. I'd imagined those pale breasts. What would their firm, soft yield feel like in my hands? I'd clenched and unclenched empty fists in the air.

I'd pictured burying my face in her plump rear. And the secret juncture allowed only to her husband...

I'd only seen a woman's core in erotic paintings, but the thought alone dizzied me with stimulation. I'd ravaged that forbidden place meant for one man alone, countless times in fantasy with frenzied thrusts.

Yes, in dreams I'd conquered her. But then, like my spent cock shriveling after eruption, crushing patheticness followed.

In reality, I could never touch her soft body at will. In reality, I was just... ordinary.

If it could be like my fantasies... if only...

I'd sell my soul to a demon. The sudden thought startled me. Was this the true face of my desire?

To conquer my stepmother. No—more. To conquer every woman in the world.

Be she noblest lady or peerless martial heroine, all kneeling before me. None daring to lift their heads.

Was that my true craving? Damn, insane.

My mind snapped back to reality. Even a naive youth wouldn't entertain such madness. Get a grip.

I wasn't some emperor; just heir to a minor escort agency.

"Feeling unwell?"

I'd zoned out longer than I thought. She looked concerned.

"No, Mother."

I waved it off with a smile, but guilt over my profane thoughts right in front of her kept my eyes averted.

"Good, then..."

She eyed me curiously but soon smiled and called toward the door. "So-mi, are you there?"

"Ah, I sent So-mi on an errand for something urgent. Sorry I didn't mention it."

So-mi was her dedicated maid. Using her for personal tasks without notice might seem spoiled.

But Mother brushed it off. "No need to apologize. With your father away, you're the man of the house. And what urgent matter this early?"

"Nothing to worry about. I'll report after handling it. Instead of So-mi, I brought Jang Il—shall I have him serve tea?"

I changed the subject hastily.

"Hey, Jang Il."

"Yes, young master."

"Bring the tea tray quick."

"Right away."

Rustling footsteps approached from the door.

"He's already busy enough—making him work from dawn."

"Haha, that one's tough as nails; it's no trouble."

"Still... he'll handle agency affairs someday. Same age as you—treat him well."

"Of course."

Yes, a kid. To Mother, Jang Il was just a capable boy. An impossible gulf for any affair.

Jang Il, what confidence let you tell me that? She's beyond your shadow's reach.

But I hope you told the truth.

My mind swirled with tangled thoughts, but my mouth traded ritual small talk with her.

Unable to focus, I just responded aptly. After a bit, a voice came from the door.

"It's Jang Il. I've prepared the tea."

"Come in."

At Mother's word, Jang Il entered cautiously, glancing at me before setting down the tray. Then, with a resolved look, he spoke.

"Young master."

"Yes?"

"My power requires drawing the target's gaze to my eyes. But... with the deep suggestion already implanted in Madam, one phrase can prove it's real. What say you?"

I barely followed, but reflexively answered. "Do it."

Mother's eyes widened in shock. "What... what is this? What are you talking about?"

Jang Il bowed slightly to her. "It's like this, Madam. You're a good child, aren't you?"

"Ah..."

The room's atmosphere shifted dramatically in an instant.

Mother's face slackened. The ever-virtuous expression vanished; her limpid eyes went vacant, fixed on empty space. From her blankly parted red lips came a flat, emotionless voice.

"Yes... this lowly woman is a good child. A good child... must obey her Master..."