I'm Going to Die
Whether he'd meant to or not, Han Naengjung's actions just moments ago had all but melted the tension from Song Yura's body.
...It's been like this from the start, hasn't it?
Ever since their first year of middle school, when they'd been seated as desk partners in the front row, there had always been something comforting about Han Naengjung. The problem was that she'd mistaken that comfort for weakness — He's weaker than me. I can do whatever I want to him — and treated him however she pleased.
There must have been any number of chances to set that karmic debt right. Not his chances. Hers.
I'm the one who never even thought to take them.
Honestly, she'd reached the point of wondering whether this was really all the punishment Han Naengjung intended to give her.
I deserve something worse than this.
But even if she thought so, there was no way Han Naengjung — kind, in his own way — would ever go that far. So if she couldn't receive the punishment she deserved, then she would do everything in her power to be of use to him. Everything. From start to finish. And that included servicing his lust, just like this.
"I'm taking these off."
"Yes..."
It wasn't just anyone — it was Han Naengjung himself undressing her. Song Yura's face flushed with shy heat. And yet a worry nagged at her: would something this gentle even be enough to satisfy him?
Shouldn't he be hitting me harder if he wants to feel better? I left a wound on Master's memory and heart that will never fade. At the very least, my body should...
Even if he beat her with a club, Song Yura was prepared to accept it with a humble heart.
And yet—
"Stretch your legs out too."
"Yes."
...He's being way too kind!
Of course, she knew exactly where this gentleness came from. Other people might not have noticed, but she'd figured out long ago that Han Naengjung was a siscon of truly alarming proportions.
Wait a second!
There's no way... he doesn't still undress his fully grown little sister at home like this, right?
"U-um, Master..."
"What? If you're about to start complaining, I'm not interested."
"...N-no. It's nothing."
That's not it — do you still undress your little sister like this?
Song Yura couldn't bring herself to ask. She was terrified he might nod, and if he did, her mood would plummet on the spot.
Why... is that?
It was probably because she didn't want the man she'd chosen to serve as her Master to turn out to be some kind of morally bankrupt pervert.
Ah. Now it's just the underwear left.
A man was undressing her, and Song Yura felt not the slightest resistance. If anything, she was quietly savoring the tenderness of her Master's hands.
Does Master know? That even though I'm embarrassed, my heart is pounding with a pleasure far sweeter than I expected?
He's different after all.
Having felt Park Suchil's hands, she could tell the difference with absolute clarity. Every time Park Suchil touched her, it had felt like filthy sludge dragging across her skin. Han Naengjung's hands, by contrast, carried a delicate consideration in every single caress. There weren't many women who would dislike a touch like this. Herself included.
"Stay just like that."
"Yes."
Song Yura answered as if it were nothing, but inside her head, dozens of Song Yuras were screaming in panic.
H-he's not taking off my underwear? Just stay still? Wait — do I smell?
No, you idiot! It's like a lingerie show. Be honest — you've posed in front of the full-length mirror in nothing but your underwear before.
True! Sometimes leaving the underwear on looks sexier and sluttier than being completely naked.
Come to think of it, yesterday Master didn't pull my panties all the way off either — he left them hooked around my legs. Maybe it's that kind of thing?
Having somehow split into multiple personalities, Song Yura could only swallow hard.
I'd honestly feel more at ease if he'd just torment me outright.
The way he kept staring at her like that, she was getting so nervous she was afraid she'd start sweating — especially between her thighs, or under her arms.
What if I smell? If I'd known it would be like this, I should've taken a quick shower the moment we got to the motel, even though I washed before coming here...
That would've been a waste!
You'd wash off Master's scent from when we were playing basketball!
Just what the hell were these perverted alter egos of hers supposed to be?
And so, while Song Yura sat locked in a private spiral of confusion, her body rigid with tension, Han Naengjung was wrestling with an agony of his own.
Damn it...
He had no choice but to admit it to himself. He was the type who couldn't lie — not even to himself. Especially not to himself.
"For the record, this isn't your fault."
"What?"
"It's because I..."
His fist clenched tight.
"It's because I'm a pervert. That's how you should understand this. Got it?"
"What do you me— ahn!"
Song Yura startled at the moan that had slipped out of her unbidden and reflexively clapped a hand over her mouth. She wondered what had happened — and then she felt it. Han Naengjung had buried his face against the nape of her neck, kissing her there with a ticklish heat, his tongue tracing over her skin. And with one hand, he was rubbing and kneading the flesh of her inner thigh, right around her sex.
A soft, wet kiss.
"Hnnnnh... haah... hngh!"
His touch was a little clumsy, but overwhelmingly lewd. It was the touch of a man who found a woman's body endlessly fascinating — and who, taking full advantage of the fact that she was his slave, groped her without the slightest hesitation.
Nnh... I-I don't hate this.
No. She liked it. A ticklish, honey-sweet warmth rose from somewhere deep in her chest and began to slowly heat her body from the inside out.
"Haah... haah... Master."
She called his name hoping he'd touch her rougher, deeper — but Han Naengjung was equally lost, drowning in the beauty of a woman's body up close for the first time. A lovely scent kept rising from her neck. The thigh beneath his hand was so smooth and soft it felt like it might melt. And through it all, that sexy black bra and those panties kept catching his eye. A completely different shape, a completely different fabric from anything a man would wear...
"Hyaah! Hnngh... M-Master... nngh, th-there..."
A flinch. The moment Han Naengjung's curiosity got the better of him and he rubbed against her panties, Song Yura let out a moan — and he flinched.
"...I told you to stay still, didn't I?"
He growled it like a beast, meaning to intimidate her. Song Yura nodded in apology, her eyes gone wet and shining.
"I-I'm sorry. But... it was ticklish, and it felt good."
"It felt good? You'll say anything to play along with me, won't you."
Han Naengjung's refusal to believe her stung a little — and yet she was also relieved.
He might think I'm a pervert.
Han Naengjung had said he wanted to see her suffer. So if he found out that in moments like these she felt not pain but a pounding heart and happiness... he might never allow her to serve him like this again.
So I can't let him catch on too much.
It was best if it just looked like a slave fawning over her Master.
Master hates lying — he can't even do it. But I can.
If anything, her mouth had always been a weapon sharp enough to wound anyone she turned it on. Right now, she was almost grateful to be such a liar. No matter what she said, Master wouldn't easily believe her anyway.
"I-it's true. Nothing you do to me feels bad, Master. If you're curious about something, you can do whatever you want. Even if I get hurt, I'll take care of the treatment myself."
A twinge. Had something about what she'd just said been wrong? An ache close to hurt bloomed in Song Yura's chest before she even understood why.
"Yesterday, maybe. But right now, I don't particularly feel like hurting you while we do this. So if something goes wrong while we're together, I'll take responsibility."
"Ah..."
Song Yura nearly burst into tears. Whether it was the rebound from that fleeting hurt vanishing like a lie, she couldn't say — but those words just now had sounded so unbearably good.
Oh no. A little... came out.
If it had been tears, that would've been fine. But it wasn't her eyes that had leaked — it was down below, a little trickle she couldn't stop. Please don't let him have noticed.
"So if it really feels like something's going wrong, don't hold it in. Tell me. Understood?"
"Yes..."
"And remember — this doesn't mean I've forgiven you, or that I'm being considerate. If you stop pleasing me, I can always—"
"Kill me."
"...Right."
The way he pretended it wasn't kindness while being so warm and considerate — and then that almost cute little reaction on top of it — her body and heart couldn't help but get excited.
Ahh, no...
It was flowing more than she'd thought. She could feel her panties growing damp and heavy.
And then—
Squelch.
"Hwaaah! Ah— n-nngh!"
She'd already been hyperaware of that spot — and then, without any warning, Han Naengjung pushed a finger between her folds. Song Yura's hips bucked of their own accord as a loud moan tore out of her.
I-I came... a little. Fr-from just a finger!
Thump. Thump. Thump.
He'd barely even started touching her, and already her heart was hammering like mad, her body burning at an extreme. Was this even possible? Whenever she masturbated at home, she remembered it taking quite a while to reach climax.
I-is it this good when you do it with a man?
Song Yura had no experience to compare it to. She could only guess that this was why some girls simply couldn't live without a man.
"I told you to speak up if it hurts. I have no intention of asking a bitch like you myself."
"Y-yes! I'll tell you. I'll definitely tell you if it hurts."
I wish you'd stir me up even more. As much as you want.
...Those were words even Song Yura was too embarrassed to say out loud.
Squelch. Squelch.
"Higuuh— hwaah! Ah, aah...! Ah— ahn! Aaaahn...!"
It was an unbelievable touch. Unbelievable pleasure. His finger, which had been still, began to push slowly forward, thrusting deeper, occasionally wriggling to scrape along her inner walls. Stars kept bursting across her vision.
"Hnnnnnnngh!"
By the time that single finger had been swallowed to the hilt, she had no choice but to climax again, helpless against it. Her toes clenched so hard she nearly cramped.
Meanwhile, Han Naengjung couldn't tell whether those moans were from pleasure or pain. He didn't let it show, but he was wound tight with tension.
Damn bitch.
Even so, he couldn't bring himself to pull his finger out. This sensation was a first. The way his finger sank so deep into that small hole, the way her inner walls clenched and rippled around it — all of it was mysterious, and all of it carried a lewdness that stirred a man's desire.
Ah, I'm going crazy.
Song Yura felt so good she wanted to die of shame. In that brief span she'd climaxed twice, and she'd gushed an absurd amount of fluid. She could feel her entire pair of panties soaked through.
...This is why masturbation was never enough. Because it feels this good.
She finally understood why she'd done it twice before coming to school today and still felt unsatisfied. And at the same time, she was terrified — if Master's cock entered her now, in this hypersensitive state, she didn't think she could handle it.
But then—
"Ah!"
The finger inside her slipped free — and then a powerful grip seized her thighs. Song Yura understood, instinctively, what was about to happen.
She glanced down. Master's cock was already glistening with pre-cum, twitching as it strained toward her.
Ah... I'm going to die.
Song Yura could already see her future. And yet, driven by anticipation and the deep satisfaction of being able to please the man in front of her, she found herself instinctively seducing him.
In that instant, Han Naengjung's condom-sheathed cock drove into her all at once — and Song Yura clenched the bedsheets in a pleasure so intense it stole the breath from her lungs.