Do You Know About Tiafans, Auntie?
Even though it had been nearly two months since I’d last reached out, Auntie accepted the lesson booking without the slightest hesitation. For the very next day, no less.
That night I lay in bed as usual and opened the Tiafans account of my favorite sow. A bright “new” indicator was glowing.
If my guess is right, this post is definitely based on me.
For about a month now Auntie had started calling her subscribers “Masters.” The longer she ran the account, the more she seemed to want to flaunt her masochistic side.
Starting tomorrow you’ll have a real Master in the flesh. Lucky you, Auntie Saea.
Beneath the greeting sat a close-up of the firm erector spinae and the large, gorgeous ass she had sculpted through pilates. Looking closer, I could make out pale-pink writing scrawled across the right cheek: Master’s ♡.
You little slut. One of these days I’m going to try some body-writing play on you.
In my imagination Auntie Saea was already a slave who had offered me both body and soul. Reality, of course, hadn’t even begun yet.
The pleasant heat lasted only a moment. The moment I read the text under the photo, the blood that had rushed to my cock shot straight up to my head.
What? Herbivore? Pathetic man? Just wait till tomorrow, you sow bitch.
The pictures were hot, but I was going to see the real thing tomorrow anyway. I put the phone away, spent a while plotting exactly how I would snare her, and drifted off.
Six o’clock the following evening, right outside the door of Pantia Pilates.
Auntie’s studio sat on the third floor of the shopping mall inside Seoa’s apartment complex.
Haa… I’m actually nervous.
I didn’t go in right away. I ran through the script I’d prepared three full times in my head, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.
Ding-a-ling, ding-a-ling.
The entrance chime announced a customer. Auntie Saea was mopping the floor around the reception desk.
“Oh my, Hajun, you’re here. Give me just a second, okay?”
Compared with the last yoga session, her outfit was ordinary: white short-sleeve top, navy leggings, white toe socks—the classic pilates-instructor look. Ordinary clothes, yes, but her body was still pure violence. The way the fitted gear clung to every curve was enough to set my heart hammering just from looking.
“Hello, Auntie. If you don’t mind, shall I help with the cleaning?”
“Would you? That would make Auntie so happy. Here—wipe down the machines inside for me?”
She walked over, handed me a cleaning cloth, and pointed toward the lesson room. Her perfectly ordinary demeanor almost made me wonder if I had completely misread her.
Was the last time just a temporary lapse? Is she really planning to teach me proper pilates and nothing else? Then again… even if she did post those filthy captions with me in mind, she never actually did anything to me in real life.
For a second my resolve wavered. Face-to-face she was simply a kind adult, a friend’s mother. That doubt evaporated the instant I watched her bend over and work the mop with those hips.
Get a grip, Kim Hajun. You’ve already been played by her twice—are you going to let it happen a third time? Just because she acts sweet in person doesn’t mean she isn’t already drafting the next Tiafans post about you inside her head.
Lust for her body surged up from the depths of my gut and locked my wavering heart back into place.
That’s right. She crossed the line first. If she hadn’t written those posts mocking me, I would have been perfectly happy just jacking off to her sow content in secret.
In the end the war between conscience and male instinct ended with a decisive victory for instinct.
While I wiped down the pilates machines I kept stealing glances at her. That body was still pure fantasy material: G-cup breasts by her own admission, a cinched waist, a plump yet firm ass, thighs sculpted by constant exercise, and long, slender calves and ankles that finished the package. Every single part looked as if a master craftsman had carved it for the sole purpose of driving men insane. And Auntie seemed aware of my stare—our eyes met far more often than chance would allow.
Am I imagining things?
By the time I had almost finished the machines she wiped the sweat from her brow and spoke.
“Hajun. Cleaning’s made me a little hot. I’m going to change and grab us something to drink. Wait right there.”
While she disappeared into the changing room I finished the last machines and sat in the waiting-area chair by the reception desk.
When she came back out her outfit was exactly what I had expected. Auntie had never planned on a normal lesson today.
She’s trying to recreate the same situation as last time’s yoga session.
A white tank top that barely covered her breasts and left her firm abs completely exposed, paired with pink leggings so thin they made the previous navy pair look modest. And…
No panties. The camel-toe was razor-sharp.
I stuck to the plan and gave her the reaction she wanted. I pretended to be flustered by the outfit and dropped my gaze. The acting was flawless—my face really had gone red from the sheer lewdness of her clothes, so all I had to do was keep my head down. Auntie Saea walked right up and held out a change of clothes.
Holy shit. She even prepared an outfit for me? This place is women-only, my ass.
“Hajun. Pilates is still exercise, so it’s important that the body lines show clearly. It might feel a little embarrassing, but could you change into these?”
I lifted my head. From this close the thin white tank top was translucent. And underneath…
No bra. Only a pair of heart-shaped nipple pasties covering her nipples. Of course the fabric was just thick enough that you would never notice unless you were standing this near.
But the fact that she deliberately stepped close to hand me the clothes means she wanted me to see exactly this.
Just as she intended, I lowered my head again, adopted a slightly awkward posture, and answered. Inside my own underwear I was already at full mast, so the performance was perfect.
“Yes, Auntie. I’ll do that. When I lift I wear stringers all the time to check muscle movement, so I’m used to it.”
“Oh my, is that so? Perfect.”
I turned my back on her and stepped into the changing room. Being a women-only studio, there was only one dressing area—no separate men’s side.
I had tried not to get tense, but the moment I was alone a long sigh escaped me.
Haa… she’s actually insane. Did she call me here just to seduce me? At this point isn’t she begging me to notice how she feels?
No panties and nipple pasties… I hadn’t even imagined she would go that far. I took a deep breath and unfolded the clothes she had given me. The top was an ordinary black tank. The problem was the bottoms.
Tights so sheer they looked like something only a male ballet dancer would wear.
Fuck? What the hell is this?
I had cursed them in my head when I first saw them; once they were on my body the curses came out loud. I kept the volume down, of course—Auntie might still hear.
I walked over to the mirror and looked at myself. Shame flooded me. The skin-tight tank on my upper body was fine; I was confident in my physique and trainers had always complimented my build. The problem was…
The bottoms left nothing to the imagination in a completely different way. The silhouette of my cock was obscenely clear.
I checked the brand and realized she hadn’t custom-ordered these for me; real ballet dancers actually practiced in them.
But I’m not a ballet dancer. Ha. She must have planned for me to feel exactly this embarrassed the second I put them on.
I felt pathetic for the brief moment of guilt I had entertained when I first walked into the studio. Auntie’s true nature was nothing but the Tiafans sow; everything else was pure performance. There was no other reason she would hand her daughter’s friend clothes like these.
Following her script, I covered my crotch with both hands, hunched my shoulders a little, and stepped out of the changing room.
“Oh my! Hajun, you’ve got a really nice body. You must have trained hard.”
She sashayed over, hips swaying, and casually ran her hands from my shoulders down across my chest.
“Y-yes… I’ve been lifting consistently. But this is my first time doing pilates, so I’m counting on you, Auntie.”
I felt her gaze travel from the top of my head all the way down to my toes. Then she smiled and led me into the consultation room. Chocolate and drinks sat ready on the table.
“Shall we have a little snack before we start?”
“Yes, that sounds good.”
We sat facing each other across the table. This was the moment I had been waiting for.
“Um… Auntie. There’s actually something I need to tell you…”
“Really? Speak freely. Is it about the exercise?”
She smiled at me with perfect kindness. I unlocked my phone and turned the screen toward her. Clear as day was Auntie Saea herself, completely naked, in doggy style on her own living-room floor—the post she had uploaded the day after I stayed over at Seoa’s place.
The second she saw the screen her eyelids trembled as if an earthquake had hit. She forced her voice to stay calm.
“Hajun… I didn’t know you were this kind of kid… Do you even understand what you’re showing me right now?”
Still half-hunched, I gave a small nod.
“How can you show something this filthy to your friend’s mother? Get out right now! And never contact Seoa again! Honestly… I can’t believe this. What do you think you’re doing?”
She stood up, planted both hands on her hips, and suddenly raised her voice in anger.
Oh? So this is how you want to play it?
I waited calmly until she finished, then spoke in a quiet, even tone.
“Auntie Saea. That’s you. The person lying naked on all fours is you. Pretending it isn’t doesn’t help. I already know, and that’s exactly why I’m showing it to you.”
Her mouth opened and closed a few times. Then her face twisted into pure horror and her whole body gave a violent shudder while she was still standing.
“You… you… what did you just say? Honestly… I’m speechless. Ha! Do you realize this is sexual harassment?”
I straightened the shoulders I had been hunching and met her eyes without flinching. One by one I swiped through the three posts she had uploaded while I was staying at Seoa’s house and laid out exactly why the woman on the screen could only be her. With every sentence her expression grew darker.
“I’m the one who got sexually harassed. ‘Herbivore,’ ‘castrated man,’ ‘pathetic.’ Oh, and it wasn’t just the posts—that morning you actually sexually harassed me in person, remember?”
I finished by showing her yesterday’s upload.
“Anyone can see you twisted the whole situation and posted it. No—should I just call you ‘sow’ now? You kept writing on your account that if you ever got caught you’d become a real slave. I found you. So, Auntie, will you be my slave starting now?”
Auntie Saea only opened and closed her mouth, unable to form a single word.
“Oh, and about the backgrounds—no matter how hard you blur them, the moment you actually stand in the same place it’s obvious. Just in case, I checked the men’s restroom in this building before I came in. That’s where you filmed the squirting video, right?”
“You… you! I’m reporting you. If I’d known Seoa’s friend was this low-class blackmailer I never would have let you near her.”
She reached for the phone on the table; I snatched it first.
“Keep talking like that and I’ll tell Seoa everything. If you report me, we both go down together. I’ll countersue for sexual harassment and expose your entire identity to the world. Then Seoa loses her mother and the man she likes at the same time.”
The moment I said her daughter’s name, Auntie’s hands dropped from her hips and she seemed to shrink into herself.
“Even today—you deliberately came without a bra, just those little nipple pasties. And it wasn’t only the bra, was it? There’s nothing under those leggings either. Cha. Sae. A. Auntie. Thanks to you my blood’s circulating beautifully right now.”
I stood up as I spoke. The tights I was wearing left nothing to the imagination; my cock stood at full attention, proudly advertising its presence.
“Kyaah!”
For someone who ran a filthy account she let out a surprisingly girlish scream, covered her face with both hands, and sank straight to the floor.
“Unexpectedly cute reaction. You’re the one who prepared these ballet tights on purpose, Auntie.”
She seemed to have abandoned any attempt at forceful resistance. Still slumped on the floor, her voice trembled.
“W-what do you want me to do? Apologize? I’ll apologize. I’m sorry. I must have gone crazy for a while. I never should have used my daughter’s friend… M-money. Would money fix it? How much do you want?”
She clearly knew what I really wanted, yet she deliberately offered everything else instead.
“Auntie. Your imagination is lacking. Or are you just looking away on purpose? You already know the answer. The sow wrote it herself on her account over and over. Sla. ve.”
Auntie Saea shuddered and said nothing. I waited out the brief silence.
“…Th-that was just… something I wrote to get attention. Really. Hajun, Auntie isn’t that kind of person. Lots of people wear masks on the internet, right?”
“Then just be my slave for one month and I’ll forget everything. I’ve already backed up every single file from your account, but on the day the contract ends I’ll delete it all right in front of you. How about it?”
She kept her head down, lips pressed tight, and stayed silent for a long time before murmuring,
“How can someone actually become a slave… in this day and age…”
“Then I guess I’ll just send Seoa everything I have right now.”
“You can’t!!!”
I picked up the phone again; she screamed and scrambled to her feet. I set the phone back on the table and locked eyes with her.
“So will you do it? Sla. ve. I’m even giving you a one-month time limit because you’re Seoa’s mother.”
Of course I had no intention of stopping after a month. A month always becomes a year, and a year becomes a lifetime.
Auntie clenched both fists, squeezed her eyes shut, and trembled for a moment before speaking.
“Then once the contract is over… I want you to stop seeing Seoa as well.”
Words are free. I can promise anything.
“Fine. So for one month you’ll be my slave?”
“Wait just a second.”
I nodded. She pulled paper and a pen from the desk drawer and laid them out in front of me.
“…I want it in writing so you can’t change your story later. That’s okay, right?”
“Since you’re the mother of my precious friend Seoa, I’ll make a special exception.”
I took the pen from Auntie Saea’s hand and wrote in large letters across the very top of the page.