Chapter 26
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: Seo Na-yeon Ravished on the Fifty-Million-Won Bed
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Early September 2022.
A person who never properly knew money throughout their life will first focus on satisfying basic needs once they get some. But after those foundational desires are met, they start thirsting for something more elevated. Childhood deprivations play a huge role in that.
There's that old theory that guys who love big, busty tits usually didn't get enough breast milk as babies or lacked motherly affection, leaving a complex that shapes their sexual preferences later on. Childhood lacks leave deep scars that last forever.
Seo Na-yeon was the same. Becoming an unwed mother at a very young age meant she'd never had a proper shot at society or even finishing school, breeding a complex about education and social status.
Of course, she wasn't about to go back to school herself. Instead, she'd fulfill that craving through vicarious pride in her son.
He'd never been to cram school, yet he'd always ranked first or second in his middle school class. He must've inherited totally different genes from her, her husband, and their daughter—all certified airheads.
So now that he was a high school senior... it was a bit late, but she decided to finally support his studies. Today was the day they got the results from the math academy test they'd taken together.
"Hello. Are you the student's older sister?"
"Huh? Haha. No, I'm his mom."
".....Pardon? Oh, really? Uh... sorry, are you his stepmom?"
"Hohoho! No, I'm his real mom."
With Kang Hyun-seong in his senior year, Seo Na-yeon was thirty-two.
But thanks to her youthful looks and naturally slow-aging body, she still appeared to be in her early-to-mid twenties.
Her outfit hinted slightly at her age: tight white jeans that perfectly accentuated her huge hips and long, pretty legs. Paired with a sleeveless mock-neck crop top—the kind they call a "size 19 look."
Even without trying, her thick, milfy sex appeal filled the consultation room.
The academy counselor blushed faintly and forced his eyes away from her body.
"So... you took the Wechsler IQ test recently, right?"
"Weck... what?"
"...The Wechsler Intelligence Scale, ma'am."
"Oh. I thought you said something about puking."
"...Mom."
"What? I can not know stuff."
While Hyun-seong cringed at his mom's face—and brain—being as innocent as ever, the counselor finished announcing the results.
"...Anyway, your son's verbal comprehension index is way up in the top tier, and his processing speed is excellent too. So naturally, math is..."
Seo Na-yeon barely understood 80% of it, but she swelled with pride and vicarious satisfaction knowing her son was sharp—unlike her.
And now that they had money, she could actually take care of him properly, unlike before.
"Ah, so the tuition would be..."
"We have course packages here that are better value than single classes..."
Roughly 850,000 won a month. Add in textbooks and extras, and it was just under a million. Pricey for a senior-year CSAT prep intensive, but unavoidable.
Na-yeon thrust out her chest proudly, pulled out her debit card (credit card still pending), and told them to charge it all at once.
"Hyun-seong, we spent a ton, so you gotta study hard, okay?"
"Yeah... thanks."
Even with his natural smarts, self-studying had its limits. Hyun-seong knew his mom was going all-out, which worried him but also touched him deeply.
Seo Na-yeon felt a swell of pride in her chest too.
'Come to think of it... I've never spent this much on him before... have I?'
Thinking back, she'd never invested this kind of cash in her kid. And she hadn't expected it to feel this good.
'Money really is everything when you've got it.'
One big windfall, and now Seo Na-yeon craved even more.
Kwak Young-cheol was thirty-four, and his rap sheet was impressive.
Assault and threats were child's play; he'd racked up double digits in rape. Drug-assisted, gang, special circumstances—you name it. Sure, he'd blackmailed victims and silenced them with settlements, so his actual record was just that one early bust.
Normal parents would've disowned him on the spot. The payoffs alone had cost hundreds of millions over the years.
But in a crime family dynasty, his dad brushed it off as budding heroics.
His father, Kwak Tae-chon, had murders under his belt on top of threats and rapes, so Young-cheol was still a rookie by comparison.
The point was, over twenty years—legal or not—he'd bedded countless women.
The 10,000-hour rule applied: legal, illegal, whatever. His woman-handling skills had reached mastery.
He saw Seo Na-yeon as prime airhead material for fucking and breaking in.
Step by step, he was molding her to accept his pervy kinks. He'd even gotten her going panty-free at the office—progress toward total obedient sex slave.
But "training" a woman wasn't just about good orgasms.
Unless her brain was fried on drugs, she had pride and calculated pros/cons. Turning someone into a slave wasn't that easy.
Na-yeon might be a ditz—middle school dropout, zero social experience, immature adult—but she wasn't that dumb. She wouldn't submit to Young-cheol just because sex felt good.
"Hey. Wanna come to my place after work?"
"Today? You want me at your house?"
"Yeah. Wife's gone, so come check it out."
The stuff Young-cheol forced on Na-yeon during training was the kind of deviant shit society deemed unacceptable.
Office sex, short skirts with no panties at work—it sparked massive resistance.
She endured because she'd been routinely sexually abused and roughly beaten into submission by Tae-gu. A normal woman would've called the cops.
Even with Na-yeon being relatively easy to handle, just fucking her nonstop would eventually make her heart wander.
To counter that, when she submitted to his training, he had to sweeten the pot.
So today—no whip. Time for the carrot. Young-cheol invited her home.
"Here we are. First time at oppa's place, right?"
"Uh..."
His toad-like thug exterior didn't match: a luxury villa in Cheongdam-dong. A whopping 64 pyeong. Listing price? Tens of billions. Not bought solely on his used-car gig—daddy the corporate gangster boss helped—but it was a big chunk of Young-cheol's assets.
The interior was modern and sleek, per his wife's taste. The entry floor? Italian Bianco Carrara marble at a million won per pyeong. The dining table: Macassar ebony.
Na-yeon couldn't identify the materials, but even an idiot could smell the wealth.
"What do you think? Killer, huh?"
"Uh... yeah... this is insane."
Compare to her place: moldy semi-basement reeking of dampness. Studio so tiny, privacy was a joke.
Did she shamelessly fuck her husband next to the kids? No motel money, and sex was her only pleasure—she just ignored it and did it.
Without a job, scraping by on her husband's occasional handouts in that cramped room, upper-class life felt unreal.
She could've dismissed it as another world—no envy without awareness.
Her poor life was just normal scenery.
But not anymore. Her flickering fluorescent bulb versus the elegant recessed ceiling lights screamed the interior budget gap.
Imported Italian marble tiles versus her mildew-stained bathroom ones.
"Here's our master bedroom. Wife insisted on this bed, so I shelled out fifty million won for a Hästens."
"What?! The bed costs... fifty million?"
"Yeah. Some idol supposedly sleeps on these or whatever. Super cushy, though. Horse tail hair, you know? They stuff it in there."
Her cheap blanket on the floor versus this bastard's fifty-million-won bed—a brutal contrast.
It violently hammered home the class divide between Young-cheol and her.
Overwhelmed by this first glimpse of the rich life, admiration and longing crept into Seo Na-yeon.
'My five million was nothing...'
The five million he'd tossed her like charity after using her body dozens of times that month. She'd thought it huge at first, but seeing his lifestyle? Pocket change.
'Not even a tenth of the bed price.'
From behind, where Na-yeon gawked slack-jawed at the bedroom, Young-cheol gently pulled her down—his crude talk clashing with the elegant decor.
"Wanna squirt all over this fifty-million-won bed? Wife's in the States, so flood it all you want."
"..."
No consent needed—Young-cheol slowly peeled up her tight H-line skirt like gift wrap, hugging her massive ass.
Already panty-free, her butt spilled out. He shoved her roughly onto the plush master bed—the one the couple usually shared, worth fifty million won.
"Ass up."
Office, motel, or this multi-billion-won luxury villa—it didn't matter.
To Young-cheol, Na-yeon was just a premium onahole for dumping his urges.
But damn it, getting pounded on that soft fifty-million-won bed, Na-yeon stared at the wedding photo of Young-cheol and his wife on the nightstand... and foolish hope bloomed again.
'Could I ever... take her place?'
Of course, that vain hope was all Young-cheol's design.
He'd never promised "I'll let you live like this!" but he never shut down the fantasy either.
To do even "funnier" shit with her hot, tasty body, he had to keep her hooked on that fake dream—no matter how dirty or sneaky.