If You Lose, You Crawl
"Alright. The rules are simple. See that hole over there? Whoever tosses their stone into it wins."
I laid out the rules in a few words and handed her five smooth pebbles.
She turned them over in her slender fingers, studying them this way and that, then finally nodded.
"Fine. I'll go first, then."
Han Gyeowool shifted awkwardly into position. Between the long lines of her outstretched arms, I caught a flash of pale skin and wine-colored lingerie.
Damn. Even her bra is the expensive, sexy kind.
I was still savoring the view, licking my lips, when her stone sailed toward the distant hole.
—Clatter-rattle!
It bounced a few times across the ground and came to a stop right at the rim.
At that agonizing near-miss, Han Gyeowool stamped her foot and let out a short, frustrated sigh.
"...Ugh. So close."
Then she shot me a sharp glare, taking her irritation out on me for no good reason. In retaliation, I deliberately dragged things out. I toyed with her, winding up to throw and then pulling back, again and again, like a cat with a mouse.
She tried to ignore it, clinging to her composure—but her patience finally snapped, and she exploded.
"For fuck's sake! Are you messing with me right now? Who do you think you're playing with?!"
I was the one holding all the cards, so there was no reason to flinch. If anything, I needled her harder, smirking as I repeated the same little dance.
"Heh heh. Hungry, are we? Dying to win so you can get that canned food? Should I throw it? Shouldn't I? Oh, whatever shall I do!"
—Whoosh! Clatter-rattle!
Without warning I snapped my arm forward. The pebble dropped cleanly into the hole.
A perfect, no-frills victory.
"I used to throw a mean dart when I was a kid. Haha."
"...Th-this is..."
She stared blankly at the hole, clearly never expecting the match to end in a single throw. I picked up the switch and strolled toward her at a leisurely pace.
"Well then. Shall we settle the first set?"
—Whip!
I cracked the switch through the air. The sound it made was vicious enough to make anyone flinch. Now that the moment of impact was actually upon her, a little fear seemed to set in; she threw both hands up in a hurry, trying to calm me down.
"...W-wait a second! Just hold on!"
"Why? Don't tell me you're backing out of a promise this simple."
She clearly wanted no part of a switch across her backside. She ground her teeth and offered a different deal.
"I'd rather... I'd rather piggyback you for another round."
"Oh? Piggyback and go again? Then I'll have to raise the stakes."
"W-what do you want?"
"Hmm. Let's see. Alright—if you lose again here, you become my puppy for a whole day. How's that sound?"
"...What?"
For an instant, cold murder flashed in her eyes. Her pupils went flat and glacial, like she might kill me on the spot. But I had nothing to lose either way. Accept or refuse—it made no difference to me. I shrugged and let her stare slide right off me.
"If you don't like it, just take the hit. The choice is yours either way. So what'll it be?"
Her eyes twitched. Then she bit down hard on her lip, stubborn to the end. Pride thoroughly wounded, her sharp gaze glittered with spite and fury.
"Fine. But this time we put more distance between us. This is way too favorable for you, Mr. Kang."
She wasn't wrong—the current range was basically a dart thrower's comfort zone. Still, a little extra distance didn't exactly fill me with dread. I accepted her terms without a fuss.
"If that's what you want. Sure."
Han Gyeowool backed up several paces and carefully selected a pebble. For someone who didn't look especially athletic, her throw landed surprisingly close to the hole again.
"...Gnh."
I could hear her teeth grinding. My moment of satisfaction didn't last long, though—my own stone dropped right beside hers. I'd put a touch too little power behind it and drifted off the line.
Han Gyeowool smirked. It was a thoroughly venomous little smile, every bit the villainess.
"See? It was all just technique."
She muttered it under her breath. Somehow the taunt felt almost childish.
"Come on. Are we doing psychological warfare now? How about a little sportsmanship?"
She answered with a snort.
"Hmph. Sportsmanship? Who cares about that in a match?"
Then, face tight with concentration, she threw her second stone. Experience must have helped—this time it settled cleanly into the hole. A cheer burst from her lips at once. She bounced in place like a little girl, beaming. I wasn't sure I'd ever seen Han Gyeowool smile like that.
Funnier still was how awkward the smile looked even to her. The second our eyes met she flinched and schooled her expression, going cold and blank as if she'd never smiled at all. A faint flush still lingered on her cheeks, though, refusing to be hidden.
"Seriously. How old are you, hopping around like a kid? Have some dignity."
"...Mind your own business. I'll be happy however I want."
When my turn came around again I picked up a pebble with a faintly anxious heart, stretched my arm out with exaggerated care, and threw.
—Whoosh! Clatter-rattle!
The stone rolled hard and, mercifully, landed right beside hers—dropping into the hole the same way. We were tied.
"Whew. Almost lost that one."
"...Shit."
The higher the hopes, the harder the fall. When her turn came again she chewed her nails, nerves written all over her face. In the end her stone sailed well wide of the hole. Momentum back on my side, I sank my second stone as well. That was the moment the hard-fought match tipped for good.
"Heh heh. Looks like it's over. Want to piggyback me again this time?"
I whispered it against her ear like a devil making an offer. She stared into empty air with the hollow look of someone who'd gambled everything and lost the house. Then, as if she'd decided to throw caution to the wind, she snatched up another stone. She still couldn't accept it—she was challenging me all over again.
"Piggyback! Piggyback me again!"
"Really? The stakes go up this time. You sure?"
"What is it?!"
"You oil up Master's body. Every last inch."
I'd lucked into a bottle of adult massage oil that morning. Han Gyeowool hesitated at the lecherous proposal—then, as if she had nowhere left to retreat, she threw herself back into the contest with reckless resolve.
"Fine. As long as I win everything, it won't matter. I won't be rubbing any oil on anyone."
"Haha. Bold. You've got more of a gambler's streak than I expected."
"Enough nonsense. Just start the game."
"Whew. Of course. Anything for our precious VIP customer."
They say a sucker never knows he's a sucker. Having lost two rounds in a row, she was sinking deeper into worse and worse terms—which, for me, was nothing but good news. I could cook her without breaking a sweat. Smiling wickedly, I started the game again, already planning to win by the narrowest possible margin.
"...Th-this is a scam! This is ridiculous!"
Final record: five wins, one loss. Aside from the single game she'd scraped out by pure luck, she had lost every match. She sank to the ground with half-dead eyes, and even then those plump thighs of hers kept stoking my filthy instincts.
"Come on. Where's the scam in a fair contest? I didn't pull any tricks."
"Shut up! Just shut that mouth already!"
Her mental state had clearly cracked. She kicked sand in every direction, throwing a full-blown tantrum. It was a side of her you'd never see under ordinary circumstances. Then again—of course her composure was shattered. She had lost far too much in these wagers.
A switching. A full day as my puppy. Oil-application service, plus a thorough massage. And in the final match, she'd even agreed to let me touch her chest. Raise the stakes a little at a time and before you know it, you've crossed a line you can no longer control. Maybe that hopelessness was why moisture gathered in her eyes for the first time. The harsh conditions of the deserted island had worn her nerves paper-thin.
"...Hic. Hic. Hhik."
Grief seemed to well up all at once. Her shoulders shook as jewel-bright tears spilled down her face. Watching a woman who was always so sharp and venomous cry that pitifully almost made my heart waver—just a little.
Still... even her crying is ridiculously hot. Looking at her like this, she's almost kind of cute.
I was starting to understand why people called a woman's tears a weapon. Who'd have thought I'd feel a protective instinct toward a viper like her. Whether she knew it or not, Han Gyeowool quietly sniffled and wiped her eyes. Feeling vaguely awkward, I decided to offer a little comfort.
"What are you crying for? It's just a lost game. Come on, knock it off."
Far from soothing her, I only seemed to scrape her temper raw. She shrieked and unleashed a torrent of curses like she was having a fit.
"Hic—! Shut up! Shut your mouth, you piece of trash! You planned this from the start! You goaded me into this on purpose! Hic—! You perverted bastard!"
"...Hey. If it bothered you that much, you should've won. Nobody told you to lose."
"Uwaah—! I don't care! I don't! Don't touch my body! You lay a hand on me and I'll kill myself, I swear!"
She wailed and threw a full-scale fit. I decided to wait her out until she settled. Discipline only works if you don't push too hard without relief. After a sharp scolding, you have to ease off just as much—otherwise the emotional wound cuts too deep. Right now, what she needed was a carrot.
I reached out toward the crying woman with a warm, conciliatory hand.