Wasn't It Supposed to Fuck Me Real Good? This Dogshit Household.
They worked me to the bone like a slave, and now they're selling me off like this? And they call themselves family?
Ah, right, not family.
Family's just that goddamn father of mine.
If only he'd stuck to dumping his seed in proper wombs instead of spreading it everywhere just 'cause he's got money. That's why I'm so fucking miserable.
Or he could've just fucked a maid. At least the daughter of a maid might get some pity.
But the daughter of a street whore? What the hell is that?
Fuck...
"Daughter. You have to do well. This is your last chance to prove your worth."
"Yes, Father. I'll keep that in mind."
What bullshit.
I built this whole damn family up, and now it's my last chance to prove my worth?
I wanted to scream it, but I held it in and flashed a bright smile instead.
The perfect smile I'd practiced since childhood fooled this bastard father of mine completely.
Or rather, he was just satisfied.
After all, he made this face.
If my smile was off even a little, he'd slap my cheeks black and blue, screaming to smile like a perfect doll.
Back then, it sucked that this was a fantasy world. Without potions, he wouldn't have hit me so much, whining about damaging the merchandise.
"Then, First Wife, Young Master, Sister. We'll head out now."
I swallowed the urge to flip the table—Season 12345 rage—and climbed into the carriage.
Today was the day I got sold off for the last time.
I was off on a blind date with the infamous Third Prince, Kane, known for his shit personality.
Fail this, and they'd ship me off to some old noble, they'd said.
Ha...
Once this blind date's over, I have to run away.
A guy from my past life, now stuck in this body, getting railed by some withered old noble? Hard pass on the moaning and groaning.
Look at their ugly mugs. So full of malice. The stars must be aligned against touching me today, huh?
I peeked out the carriage window at my dear family.
Father's eyes burned like he was saying prepare to die if you fail. The Young Master couldn't care less about me. And that First Wife bitch? Her fingers twitched like my cheeks were too tempting— not to fuck, but to punch like a sandbag.
She's the one who slapped me the most.
My cheeks burst so often from it that cheap potions don't heal them anymore.
Potion resistance, they call it.
Potents barely work now.
If I get in a real accident and fuck up bad, I might not survive.
"Dying like that would be such a raw deal... Nah. If I die, it'll totally be that bitch's fault."
And my sister? She's practically drooling in anticipation.
Come home tonight, and my whole body's toast, probably.
She hates seeing pricey jewelry, clothes, and makeup wasted on me.
Weather's cold today—guess I'll be rolling naked on the floor again.
Naked 'cause they can't ruin the expensive clothes.
Strip me bare and beat away.
I'm expensive merchandise, right?
Apparently not.
Daughter of a whore for five silvers? Worth less than that.
"Fuck this life."
I lamented my shitty fate and stared out at the streets.
Seeing happy families strolling together...
My hobby's cursing them to stub their toes or some petty shit.
Can't be the only one miserable—spread the small sorrows.
Cursed about seven families, and boom, we arrived.
"Whoa. This guy's a real psycho. Blind date at a hotel."
I knew Kane was a dick, but this promiscuous? News to me.
Walk into the room and get raped on the spot?
Ah, but I have to accept, so is it rape?
Fucking hell.
Give me veto power, at least.
Curious as hell what happens if I go in, I meekly followed the guide to the room.
Of course, it was the hotel's most luxurious suite.
And in the center? Kane, shirtless already, eyes screaming he was gonna dump his load in me.
Small mercy: body and face are top-tier.
I'm not gay, but fresh premium Third Prince beats some saggy old noble any day.
"Don't rip the expensive dress, okay? I'll take it off, just give me a sec."
"What?"
If I don't get knocked up, I'm stuck at home a while longer.
So the dress has to come back intact.
Prioritizing saving the dress, I started a striptease for the eager Kane, peeling layer by layer.
The pricey dress's shoulder straps slipped down, back hooks undone, the one-piece gliding to the floor—when Kane lunged forward.
I saw him coming but didn't resist.
Just thought, Oh, that'll ruin the dress, and Am I that fuckable? as I let him catch me.
Moments later, I cracked my eyes like a cat and stared at him.
"What're you doing?"
"What are you doing? You almost flashed everything."
"Weren't you dying to pop my cherry real good? You look ready to fuck me already."
"What kinda crazy talk is that? From a count's lady?"
"Whore's daughter, made for five silvers."
I kicked my legs to get down after answering.
Current position? He's holding me up by the armpits like a cat.
Probably to keep my tits untouched and the dress from falling.
Grabbing the front would've meant copping a feel for sure.
Just let it drop and do what you want.
Why else go shirtless?
Plus, my tits are so huge, sideboob's brushing him anyway—pointless dodge.
"If you like my tits that much, stay like this."
"Sorry."
Kane set me down right away, fixed the straps, then backed off.
I didn't get it, but he told me to dress properly, so I rehooked the back.
Corset loosened a bit—no fixing that myself, whatever.
As I straightened up, a thought hit me.
Some guys have tastes like that.
"Don't get it dirty, okay? It's really expensive."
"Don't get what dirty?"
"Your baby batter, Third Prince."
"God, seriously... Why are you like this?"
"Why are you like this? You're shirtless, all geared up to fuck."
"There's... circumstances."
"Already fucked some other bitch once? Or the cliché 'I'm actually nice but pretending to be a scoundrel' excuse?"
Kane gaped at my words.
I couldn't help but widen my eyes too.
Didn't expect the actual cliché excuse.
Even I was shocked I said it.
But thinking about the Crown Prince, it clicked.
Iron-blooded Crown Prince, tearing the empire apart.
Acting the playboy to dodge his ruthless brother's scrutiny? Makes sense.
"Got it. But can you still dump your seed in me? I'll try hard to conceive."
"Why the hell would I?!"
"Gotta bring some blind date results home."
I laid it out straight, and Kane just stared, saying nothing.
Eyes full of you've got it rough too.
Comparing me to who, now?
I've got no life-or-death worries.
You do.
"If you're that sympathetic, just buy me outright? I cook good, laundry good, cleaning good, and I'm pretty sure I'd rock the bedroom too."
"Why say it like buying?"
"Whore's daughter, imitating Mom. Straightforward, right? Never met her, though."
"Just ask me to marry you."
"Same diff."
Well? Your move.
Fuck me or get engaged.
Pick one.
Just fuck me clean and done.
I shot him eager eyes conveying that and approached the retreating Kane.
He shut his eyes tight and declared:
"Fine, marriage it is. But settle for engagement for now."
"Why?"
"Gotta go to the Imperial Academy. Brother's condition. Graduate first."
"What's that got to do with marriage? Marry then go."
"Married new student? Kinda..."
"Ah, gotta play around with freshman girls, and a married label cramps your style?"
"Not it!!"
Engagement at least, huh?
Score.
Won't get sold off now.
Stall with engagement, sweet-talk later, bail.
He doesn't really wanna marry me anyway.
Gotta ask him to help me flee overseas.
I started plotting: engage to Kane, then ditch to some far countryside.
"You said you'd buy me—no backing out. No refunds or exchanges."
"I'm not, so drop it."
Blind date success.
Escape Plan Stage 1: NEW - CLEARED!
Next: Stage 2!
Survive sister's beatdown!
Fuck.