Second Story: The Mother Who Ravages Her Precious Daughter with a Black Giant Cock
"Ayoung, are you crazy?! There's a 20-year age gap! Twenty!"
"And he even has a kid from his ex-wife, right? Please rethink this... I'm saying it because I'm your friend. You gonna regret it?"
Amid the voices of friends and others trying to talk me out of it, I too began to doubt my feelings at first.
"Ayoung, take it easy. With people, it's always the slim and steady ones that count! Haha!"
"Work done? Whew! Our newbie's finally pulling her weight. Good job, Ayoung."
It was just that the maturity I felt from him, and that gentle smile full of kindness whenever he praised me—it made me sense a 'father' I'd never known, so maybe I mistook my desire to lean on him for love.
"Ayoung, I like you too, but... you're too good for me."
"I'm just some old guy with a daughter, you know? You could find someone way better than me... So forget about a guy like me."
But every time he confessed his feelings only to reject me with talk of reality, it only made me push back harder.
"If you're saying you're not good enough, then I've got plenty of shortcomings too! I'm an orphan with no parents...! I'm young and immature in a lot of ways, but my love for you is real! I want to build a family with you!"
That became the moment I truly confirmed my feelings for him.
"Ayoung... alright. Let's try dating first, and if your feelings haven't changed later... ah, whatever."
After endless confessions, we finally grew closer, and my heart never wavered.
"I love you... Jinwook."
Even as time passed.
"Ayoung, you sure about this? I told the kid ahead of time, but..."
"It's fine! Besides, Ara... right? She's probably way more nervous than me."
I answered boldly to her worried question and walked toward the reserved restaurant.
...What if she hates me? What if she argues that a woman not much older than her can't become her mom? I was pretending to be confident, but inside, I was shaking.
"Ah—"
"H-Hi...?"
The moment I faced that cute girl, my voice trembled without me realizing.
"..."
Ara approached casually, scrutinizing my face this way and that.
Slap!
"Dad's a total scumbag! How can you date someone this young... and even marry her?!"
The girl—Ara—yelled while pounding on the shoulders of the man I loved.
"Sis, you really like my dad? Or... or do you have some ulterior motive...!"
She whispered with guarded eyes, like she was imagining a gold digger.
"Ara, I truly love your dad."
"Eh...?"
When I spoke with all my sincerity, her face flushed with sudden panic.
"L-Let's... talk it over dinner first!"
She turned her head and headed into the restaurant.
It was our first meeting, but I instinctively knew then that Jo Ara was a good-hearted, sharp girl.
"Sis! Let me help you!"
"Sorry I can't call you Mom... But I'm always grateful to you!"
Even if it was tough, I felt like with this girl by my side, we could build a happy family with my beloved husband.
Oof— Oof—
My husband died.
The cause: carelessness on the other driver's part. According to the insurance company, the other side was drunk driving, and he swerved to avoid the sudden intrusion, crashing into a streetlamp and dying on the spot.
"Argh!! That...!"
At first, I was so furious I thought I'd lose my mind.
"Hic... Hic..."
But now, thinking of him gone forever from my side, I didn't even have the energy to be angry.
"..."
Ara felt the same—no, even worse than me. The girl who always smiled stood there pale-faced and dazed after hearing about her dad's death, like a doll that had lost all emotion.
"My dear, your father's passing is one thing, but you need to find your own path too, right? It'd be shameless for us to leave a young girl to raise a child alone, and he wouldn't have wanted that..."
On the last day at the funeral, my father-in-law pulled me aside and said.
I could tell from his grief-filled eyes that he was purely worried about me, not about inheritance or massive compensation.
"No, Father. Thank you for worrying, but I vowed when I married Jinwook: Ara... is my daughter now. And that hasn't changed, even after his death."
Thinking of Ara standing there blankly, I couldn't bear to leave her alone.
"Ara..."
"S-Sis...?"
"Dad went to heaven first, but you've got Sis... no, Mom by your side. Okay?"
"Waaah...!! Hic...!!"
In the empty funeral hall after all the guests left, I hugged Ara and truly became a mother.
And time flew by—six years since my husband's death.
"Mom! I'm off! Oh, dinner's a hospital party tonight, so don't make mine!"
My daughter, now a full-fledged adult woman from her student days, called out from the front door.
"Okay, my girl. Be careful going and coming back. The world's so rough these days, with all this futanarian stuff..."
"Mom~ You're too worried! I'm not a kid anymore."
"Hehe—To Mom, you're always my baby."
"Eyy—You never saw me as a kid!"
"Oh really? I've seen tons of photos. Our Ara was sooo cute!"
Ara burst out laughing, embarrassed, asking when I'd even seen those.
Now we could joke like this effortlessly—we'd grown incredibly close. Six years of just the two of us, leaning on each other without a father or husband.
"And... you need to be careful too, Mom."
"Me? I'm just an old lady."
"Old lady? You're still in your twenties! People outside always mistake us for sisters."
"Well..."
Before the Incident, we often got mistaken for sisters. I'm 28, she's 22—not weird. I'd even tried wearing long dresses like married women in their 30s or 40s to look older.
"Um... I really like you, so... could I get your number?"
But then some young college guy would ask for it, causing trouble.
"Have some confidence, Mom. You've got a great figure and a pretty face."
"You cheeky girl! Nothing you won't say to Mom. Enough worrying about me—get to work, Miss! You'll be late for the hospital."
"Yesss~ Got it."
At my urging, she nodded reluctantly and headed out.
With my daughter off to work, my routine began. Housewife duties.
...But first.
Creeeak...
I went to the bedroom.
"Jinwook, I fed Ara and sent her off."
I greeted the photo frame of my husband smiling brightly, sharing a morning chat.
Since he left, whenever I felt his absence or things got too hard alone, I'd talk to the frame like this.
"Hehe... If you'd lived, would you have become one with my body like in other houses...?"
It felt like he was listening beside me, giving me strength and comfort.
Ring ring—
Then my phone alarm blared.
"Oh! Time to shop! If I'm late, Ara won't eat... Be right back, honey!"
I jumped up, got ready, and dashed out.
Clack!
"Gotta go before it's too late...!"
We used to shop leisurely at big marts or online, but six months ago, the event where all men on Earth turned into parasitic dicks—the Penisfication Incident—crippled most stores and sites.
Murmur murmur...
"Whoa! Already this crowded...!"
Now, to buy anything, I had to hit the morning market for limited stock.
"Hey! That's mine—I grabbed it first, why take it?!"
"What? I grabbed it first! You bitch!"
Among the fierce aunties, I stretched desperately for the veggies on display.
Grab!
...Got it! I snatched the veggie and quickly tossed it in my basket before anyone could steal it.
Rub rub... Squish...
"Huh?!"
Something bulging and squishy kept rubbing against my butt and thighs.
"Ugh..."
Disgust rising, I turned—and there they were.
"Hehe."
"Oh my... What a firm ass."
Lecherous pervs—no, aunties—grinning at me.
Twitch! Twitch!
Their crotches were all bulging. Since the Penisfication Incident, women fused with men's genitals—called futanarians (named by some Japanese scholar)—kept harassing normal women.
With female lust plus male lust, they couldn't hold back, they said.
Rub... Poke... Rub rub...
Even outright sexual assault was hard to punish. Futanarian laws weren't detailed yet, so unless it was full-on kidnapping and rape, proving sexual intent as "just women" was tough. Plus, police were short-staffed.
...They're stronger than men—stronger than men were!
With the crowd pressing behind me, I sensed big trouble if I stayed.
Whoosh!
"Here!"
I quickly bought the stall's ingredients and bolted.
"Hey!"
"Lady, talk to me...!"
The futanarian women chasing me yelled, but I ran toward a patrolling policewoman (assigned for futanarian crime prevention).
"H-Help! Weird people are chasing me!"
"Hm?"
The short-haired, tough-looking officer glanced at me.
...She's staring at my chest! She quickly eyed my cleavage.
Flinch.
I covered my chest and stepped back from her.
Bulge...
Her pants were tented too.
"Hey! Futanarians are banned from approaching normal women! Martial law's in effect—we can take you in at our discretion!"
Professional at least, she chased off the approaching futanarian aunties.
"Th-Thank you."
I bowed quickly and slipped away before she turned back. She helped, but cops didn't feel safe either.
Step step.
"Haa... haa..."
I panted, having run through the dark alley, breath up to my throat.
"Gotta... get home fast."
Alleys were riskier, sure.
But the main street full of futanarians eyeing my body like they’d pounce anytime was scarier.
"Damn...! It’s all because of these uselessly huge tits and ass!"
From the orphanage to vocational school, I’d known my butt and chest were bigger than peers’. Nothing special in my diet, just hyper-developed sexually.
Hard to find pretty bras or panties, occasional shoulder aches aside, it wasn’t bad...
"They say futanarians get more excited by women with big tits and asses..."
Now, in this near-lawless world, my feminine curves made me a target.
"Told Ara I’m fine... but I’m not at all."
As I muttered and sighed softly,
Rustle— Rustle—
"Huh!?"
Sudden rustling from below.
...Cat? Alley, so maybe. But no cat in sight. Just the basket I’d absentmindedly set down when I stopped.
"No way...! Did a cat get in?!"
I carefully lifted the basket and peered inside.
"Haha... Of course not."
Just the ingredients I’d grabbed: onions, potatoes, cabbage... and a long, dark-brown stick-shaped sweet potato, plus two round potato-like ones.
"Got more than I thought. Fighting those strong aunties, this is a win! Yeah!"
The heavy basket made my shoulders tense, but my mood lifted as I headed home through the alley.
Twitch! Twitch!
But I didn’t know.
—Throb...!
There’d been no long sweet potato like that at the stall.