Mom Ravages Her Precious Daughter with a Black Monster Cock - Mental Awakening, Mid-Corruption
She slipped on an I-cup bra.
"With this length... maybe now I can just tuck it into my pussy and go about my day?"
With that vulgar joke, she coiled her flaccid, elongated cock between her inner thighs. Click. Finally securing a black cock chastity cage like a pair of panties over her crotch, Ayoung grinned.
"What should I wear out today~?"
She flung open her closet and rifled through the stuffed racks, picking out an outfit for her outing.
"Ah—yeah! Red top with a black office-lady skirt combo today?"
Ditching her old modest colors for the most provocative red-and-black pairing, Ayoung pulled out a crimson blouse and a short black miniskirt from the closet, grabbing stockings too.
"Stockings first..."
She extended her pale feet, wrapping her shapely legs in sheer black stockings.
"Hoo..."
Then she struggled to button the blouse. Swish. She slipped both feet into the black H-line miniskirt and yanked it up over her thighs as high as it would go.
"Ngh... there!"
Her calves were fine, but her thickened thighs and 98-size hips caught a bit—though the XXL miniskirt she'd ordered squeezed them in just barely.
"Hum-hum~ Now, what heels to wear?"
With a delighted face, she eyed the luxury shoes and black-market handbags lined up in her closet.
"Perfect. These it is~ Hehe!"
She grabbed towering red high heels and a flashy gem-encrusted designer handbag.
"Lastly... gotta check if it all matches?"
Slinging the bag over her shoulder, Ayoung stood before the full-length mirror beside the closet and slowly inspected herself.
Squeeze... Her chest bulged like the buttons might pop, cinching to her narrow waist. Her overseas-sized hips stretched the miniskirt's black fabric to its limit, barely covering her ass. Below the hem, black-stockinged thighs jutted out lewdly, and from behind, a sliver of underbutt peeked free.
It was already indecent enough, but...
"My tits look a bit cramped. Maybe unbutton a few..."
Pop. Jiggle! "Much better."
Ayoung undid several blouse buttons, exposing her deep cleavage and making her look even trashier and sluttier.
"Hehe..."
Satisfied, she smiled at her reflection—until...
"Huh... isn't my face a bit plain?"
She muttered, frowning at herself. Her face was plenty beautiful, but bare of makeup, her long straight hair gave a pure, modest vibe.
'Not to my liking.'
It clashed with her sensually overflowing body below the neck, leaving sexually frustrated Ayoung deeply unsatisfied.
Thud! She tossed the handbag onto the bed and snatched her phone.
"Oh~? The fancy hair salon just reopened?"
Searching for the priciest spot in her neighborhood, she smirked and finished prepping to head out.
Thud. Thud.Rustle. Crinkle.
Two women walked along, bags bulging with groceries.
"Thanks for the help. I'll treat you to dessert next time."
"Nah—I needed stuff too. But dessert sounds good!"
The bob-cut woman spoke, and her cute-faced companion laughed in reply.
"But what's up with dragging me to the mart? Don't you usually say your mom handles meals at home?"
"Ah, well..."
Cute-faced Jo Ara—Ayoung's coworker and friend at the OB-GYN—asked, and bob-cut Ara glanced at the ground before mumbling.
"...I'm not a kid anymore. Can't eat mom-cooked meals every day, right?"
"Ooh, filial daughter alert!"
"Filial? More like an ungrateful freeloader leeching off Mom."
They bantered playfully as they walked.
"Huh? What's that?"
"What?"
Ara's friend pointed ahead, so Ara looked.
"Hair salon...?"
"That famous one, right? Stupid expensive. They do makeup too... Honestly, only hostesses or rich housewives go. Regular folks wouldn't dare."
"I see..."
Ara eyed the building without much interest as her envious friend gushed.
"In this tough world, reopening a luxury spot like that? Who'd even go?"
Raised frugally under thrifty high-schooler-era Ayoung, Ara instinctively distrusted extravagance.
"Still! Rich stay rich no matter what... Oh! Someone's coming down."
Her friend whispered; Ara glanced at the stairs.
Clack. Clack. High heels clicked, ass swaying. Swish! Wavy hair bounced with each step down.
Between swaying locks, a pale face emerged—lavender eyeshadow, long lashes. Clack. High nose bridge above glossy deep-red lips.
Swish. Designer bag, jeweled bracelet, necklace—head to toe, dripping luxury and flash.
"Whoa—rich housewife? Nah, body says celeb or... shady work? Anyway, from another world."
Ara's friend gaped.
"...Mom?"
"Huh? Mom?"
"No way... but it looks like my mom."
"...?"
Her friend's face twisted in confusion; they stared at the woman pausing on the street, fiddling with her phone.
"That's your mom...?"
Da Jeong had never met Ayoung but knew from Ara: thrifty, hardworking single mom raising a non-biological daughter. This slutty, extravagant vision stunned her speechless.
"N-no, I must've seen wrong. No way that's my mom..."
The face matched perfectly, but Ara shook her head, denying reality against her mom's usual image.
But then...
"...Hm?"
The woman turned, spotting Ara and her friend.
"Baby~!"
She waved and called loudly.
'It's... really Mom?'
Shocked it was truly her mom, Ara froze, speechless. She knew Ayoung lounged in dolphin pants at home lately, body oddly changing—but never imagined this slutty outside.
Clack! Ayoung stopped beside them.
"Oh~? Who's this?"
"A-ah! Hello, ma'am. I'm Ara's coworker and friend..."
Stung by her earlier "slutty" comment, Da Jeong stammered greetings.
"Nice to meet you. Didn't know our Ara had such a pretty friend~ Hehe."
Da Jeong blushed at Ayoung's sultry smile.
"Me, pretty? Nothing next to you! Honestly, I thought you were Ara's older sister!"
"Aw, too much praise~"
"For real! First glance, I thought celebrity!"
"Flatterer... but it feels nice."
Da Jeong kept complimenting the aloof-yet-chatty Ayoung.
"So, Ara... that bag? Shopping?"
"Yes! Ara's cooking for you—"
Da Jeong started, but...
"Lately,"
Ara cut in. "Hm?"
"...I've wanted to cook for you, Mom."
She stared at Ayoung with an unreadable expression.
"..."
Ayoung felt unease deep down from that clear gaze—realizing she hadn't prepped Ara's meals once lately, eyeing the groceries.
'What? Protesting 'cause I skipped a few meals?'
"Ah... really?"
Eyes smiling, lips twitched irritably.
Despite her daughter cooking for her, joy twisted to perceived scolding; Ayoung's mind was far from sound.
"Da Jeong, we'll go from here."
"Huh? I can tag along?"
"Our ways split completely?"
"True, but..."
Sensing trouble from Ara's sunken face, Da Jeong relented.
"Okay. See you tomorrow. Bye, ma'am!"
"Sure~ Hope we meet again."
Da Jeong vanished down an alley after goodbyes.
"Let's go, Mom."
"Huh? Ah... yeah."
Ayoung followed glumly beside her chilly daughter.
"..."
"..."
They walked silently awhile.
"That bag heavy? Mom'll carry it?"
Ayoung pressed close, offering a hand.
Whoosh. Ara wrinkled her nose at the thick perfume.
'Doesn't feel like Mom.'
The scent, the slutty look—her once-familiar mom felt like a stranger.
"Mom."
"Yes?"
Ara stopped, facing her squarely.
"Do you have a boyfriend...? Or a futanarian you're dating?"
"What? What're you talking about? Dating who...?"
"It's just... your body's changed lately, clothes like that... and today, makeup and hair too?"
Ara asked carefully, hiding her frustrated worry to avoid offending.
"Oh, this? Just... felt like a glow-up, image change."
"Even so... changing this suddenly feels... weird, right?"
'What the hell... she's been annoying since earlier.'
Feeling grilled again, Ayoung's chest burned; she snapped.
"I'm a woman too, you know. Can't I wanna dress up? What, should I stop buying clothes, stop makeup, just shuffle around frumpy forever!?"
Starting scoldingly, anger boiled over; she yelled aggressively.
"Th-that's not—"
"Ha! Isn't it? You've been nitpicking my looks and attitude since back there!"
'M-Mom's scary...'
Ara panicked at the unfamiliar glare and furious face.
"Just... you're not like before lately! Sniff... something's off!"
Tears burst as emotions peaked.
"Why cry? I'm the one who wants to. And you're no kid—what've I done wrong? Blood or not, be grateful I raised you. Skipping housework, dolling up a bit, and you nag like this."
"So... I'm a bother now?"
"Well—!"
About to snap yes in rage, Ayoung faltered.
Thud...!
"Hic... sob..."
Ara's pitiful sobs yanked her heart.
'What am I saying to Ara...?'
She'd vowed to raise her lone daughter best. Ara was her precious only family. Yelling irately at her? Unthinkable for true Ayoung.
"Ara... Mom didn't mean—"
"I-I'm going ahead...!"
Ayoung reached after her tearfully fleeing daughter but...
"..."
Intense alienation froze her in place.
"...?"
Designer bag on shoulder, jewels on neck and wrist. Cleavage peeking from unbuttoned blouse.
"Eek...!"
Belated shame; she hurriedly rebuttoned.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"Hah... hah..."
Heart pounding wildly, dizzy, near collapse—but
'Gotta apologize to Ara...'
Thud. Dropping her bag, she rushed home thinking of Ara's back.
Beep-beep-beep. Trembling fingers punched the apartment code.
Click. Creak... Door open, into the dark house.
"What the...?"
Lights off, it was a trash heap. Garbage from entry, lunch containers piled on kitchen table.
"What have I... been doing?"
Trembling eyes surveyed the filth; incomprehensible past actions flashed, hand to forehead.
"Urk...!"
Salon perfume reeked from her body—or was it disgust at her actions? Ayoung gripped the entry shelf, bent double, dry-heaving.
'Bathroom... gotta get to the bathroom...'
She crawled there, unable.
"Urp—urk...!"
Clinging to the toilet, retching endlessly.
Drip. Drip.
"Hah... hah..."
Enhanced digestion meant only saliva drooled—no food.
"Ngh...?"
Rising slowly, gripping the lid, she faced the bathroom mirror.
"Who... are you?"
The reflection: wavy hair, bold haughty makeup. Jiggle.Burble. Tits and ass swollen like a bitch in heat, slutty body hugged obscenely by clinging clothes—a trashy woman stared back shocked.
'Is this... me...?'
"N-no... hate it!"
Realizing it was her, face flushed; she tried covering chest and ass with hands.
Jiggle—jiggle—wobble!
Her slim arms couldn't hide the fully developed voluptuousness.
'How'd I go out like this!? Clothes! Change!'
Judging cover-up futile, she headed to her room.
Creak! "Even here... filthy."
Master bedroom worse than living room; despising unconsciously, she aimed for closet to change and clean.
And...
"What... why'd I buy so many clothes!?"
Closet stuffed; she gaped.
'All slutty stuff!?'
Worse: all matched or exceeded her current exposure—pure trash.
"My old clothes...!?"
Recalling modest ones, husband's dresses—but
"I... threw them all away myself?"
Remembering, she murmured weakly, collapsing there.
"..."
Chaos: actions hers yet not. Mind blanked white.
"...Jiwook."
Photo of late husband Jiwook on bedside desk caught her eye.
"Aah...!"
Realizing her priority, she bolted up shocked.
Pat-pat!'Idiot! Apologize to Ara first!!'
Scolding herself amid trash house and slutty state, she raced upstairs to Ara's door.
Knock-knock-knock.
"Ara? You there? Talk to Mom, sweetie."
Cautious yet urgent, sweetest voice calling.
"...."
No reply. 'Maybe not home?'
But click! Click!'She's in.'
Doorknob locked confirmed it.
"Ara... please come out. Mom was weird earlier... no, lately too! I'm so sorry! That stuff about you bothering me? All crazy nonsense 'cause Mom's lost it!"
She pleaded desperately at the door.
"Just... leave me alone!"
"Ah... okay."
Ara's tearful voice from beyond deflated her; she backed away.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
'I've been off... but too dumb to notice...'
Soul-drained, descending stairs step by step.
Thud... Legs gave midway; she sat on the stairs.
"Waaah—!! Crazy... was I really crazy!? Park Ayoung, why'd you do that!! Why!?"
Clutching head, forehead to knees, wailing, shaking.
"Ah..."
Styled hair tousled, eye makeup and lipstick smeared—pathetic mess.
"Gotta... clean."
Needing to do something, she mechanically rose, starting on the filthy—her filthy—living room.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Grabbing and sorting as she paced.
"...!"
Clack!'It started when I began the pills...!'
She dropped everything, rushed to her room.
Slide! "Instructions... instructions... Ah!"
Dug through drawer, snatched the med box's leaflet, and started reading.