Wandering
So the storm-like weekend of my first experience came to an end, and Monday began again. When morning classes finished and we gathered in the dining hall for lunch, the atmosphere felt somehow different from before—maybe it was just my imagination. The students seemed quieter and more cautious than usual. According to Ji-young, the Annex group had devoured the slaves exclusively during the first week, and from the following week onward the pool had apparently been expanded in stages. As of yesterday, every student had probably been absorbed into the system. Aside from a handful of long-term students, most of us were fresh out of high school, and for most of them it had likely been their first experience—no wonder the mood had shifted. But some hadn't changed at all: naturally, the ten members of the Annex group, and my friend Seh-hwan was one of them.
"So who'd you pick yesterday?"
"!!?"
I never imagined he'd come at me so suddenly, so point-blank. The image of Mrs. Han Mi-jung's enthusiastic performance—what I'd learned through the videos and Ji-young's story—flashed into my mind, and I thought, like mother, like son.
"You did it too yesterday, didn't you?"
"Well... yeah... who was yours?"
"Hey, I asked first. Whatever. Mine was a woman named Choi Yeong-eun."
I flinched and glanced around nervously. Seh-hwan didn't know those slaves were the mothers of students here—but I did. I worried someone might have overheard, but fortunately we were sitting in a secluded corner, and no other students were within earshot. Seh-hwan was keeping his voice down too, presumably because the subject was too embarrassing to discuss loudly. And had he always talked this crudely so casually? A sudden thought struck me. Why did I assume those women's names were their real ones? They could be aliases. But I discarded the thought almost immediately.
"From what I could see, the best one looked like Jeong In-ae, but there was no slot left. Think I'll get a chance with her while I'm here?"
Jeong In-ae. My mother's name. And as far as I remembered, none of the twenty-nine women shared her name. The fact that Seh-hwan was speaking a name I hadn't seen among the profiles was proof that my mother was here. There were supposed to be thirty, but each ID had only their own mother hidden—there could be no other explanation.
"Really? I don't remember her. Was she that pretty?"
"Her face is celebrity-tier, and her body is insane. Her tits were jiggling like crazy, seriously—wait, how do you not remember her?"
Having my mother called a piece of ass and "that bitch" made my whole body burn, but I forced myself to stay calm and answered.
"I didn't really look at the red icons. Only the green ones..."
"Ah—hey, even after you've picked, you still get to look at the other women, right? I watched all of them to the end. So who did you do it with?"
I watched Han Mi-jung to the end too—and jerked off to her daughter. That bitch was incredible. I wanted to say, but barely held it in.
"Mine was Ji-young..."
"Oh, I remember. The teacher, right? Not bad. She had a slutty look about her."
And Seh-hwan launched into an excited account of Choi Yeong-eun, the woman he claimed to have fucked—quite possibly someone's mother here right now. I barely heard a word of it, because over Seh-hwan's shoulder, from far across the hall, Jang Tae-joo was watching me with a faint smile, surrounded by his friends.
After the day's schedule, I returned to my room, washed up, and sat down at my desk to study, but for some reason I couldn't concentrate at all. Delusions kept tormenting me. I kept picturing my mother earnestly sucking cock between Jang Tae-joo's legs as he sat at his desk studying, in the very same posture as mine. I figured I needed sage mode, so I turned on the computer, started browsing the women's profiles and videos again, and began jerking off. Choi Yeong-eun... Choi Yeong-eun... there she was. Forty-seven years old, a housewife, one son and two daughters. The son here would be the youngest, with two older sisters. Short hair and a cute face—she reminded me somehow of Mrs. Han Mi-jung, but unlike Mi-jung's petite frame, she was plumper, with much bigger breasts. Overall she was a far cry from Mrs. Mi-jung, but she had her own appeal. When she was violated, she cried from beginning to end. She started tearing up the moment the man first laid hands on her, wept even while sucking cock, and when he pounded her pussy she let out near-screams and wailed outright. It was probably the saddest, most miserable violation video of all twenty-nine slaves. Seh-hwan, that guy has a bit of a sadist streak, doesn't he?
Like all twenty-nine slaves, Choi Yeong-eun was unquestionably a top-tier married woman, but for some reason I wanted to finish thinking of Mrs. Han Mi-jung. Remembering what Seh-hwan had said about my mother that day, I stared at Mrs. Mi-jung's face as she was taken from behind, shaking my cock with a vow of revenge against Seh-hwan.
Hey, your mom's a fucking delicious-looking piece of meat.
And at the moment of climax, the image that filled my head was of countless students spraying their cum all over my mother's body.
Strangely, even though I came with overwhelming pleasure, the distracting thoughts wouldn't go away. Maybe it was that final fantasy, but thoughts of my mother kept circling in my head. When I thought about it, my mother could be being violated right this very moment in a building barely a hundred meters from where I sat—there was no way studying could hold my attention.
I'm done for.
If I'd never known Mrs. Han Mi-jung's face—if I'd never learned my mother was here—maybe I'd be studying like a madman right now. To raise my rank and hold a prettier woman a week from now. To avoid the fate of jerking off alone in my room a week from now if my rank slipped. But I already knew. How on earth could I focus on studying again? Was that even possible? Wouldn't it be better to just leave this place now? If I couldn't study properly, then what was my mother suffering all that humiliation in that place for?
It was much later that I learned the truth: that all the talk of choosing women by rank through evaluation, of motivation through lust, was complete nonsense—that I'd been deceived by the facade of an academy for chaebol heirs, deluding myself out of vanity, walking willingly into the web they had spun, and fallen forever into the role of a slave who could never escape.
In any case, I spent the next several days tormented by distracting thoughts, unable to study properly, wasting the week away. Reward only for controlling my lust and hitting my goals, my ass—I wasn't studying at all, just furiously jerking off every single evening. We took half-length mock exams in every subject; a week of not studying couldn't make my skills drop, but nothing improved either. In a word, I was standing still. What kind of improvement or decline could there be in a single week? Only my distrust of the system itself kept growing.
And then Saturday came. The moment I woke up, I accessed the reward menu. If I had a designation right, my current waiting rank would be displayed. The result: No reward available. I was one of the students whose performance had dropped—no reward this week, meaning no woman to hold. I couldn't see anyone, whether Ji-young or Mrs. Han Mi-jung. Tomorrow, while the other guys gleefully emptied their balls into their bodies—and into my mother's body—I'd be here jerking off.
I couldn't focus on studying no matter what, and I didn't want to stay in my room. Figuring some movement might lift my mood, I went to the dining hall to eat, then visited the fitness center for the first time. It was an absurdly spacious area for a hundred and fifty people, filled with every kind of exercise equipment. Using machines for the first time, I fumbled through them with the help of the instruction sheets posted nearby. When I tormented my body until I could lift no more, I felt like some of the stress was draining away. Along with my exhausted muscles, the distracting thoughts seemed to disappear too. It was the first time exercise had ever felt good. Just then, Seh-hwan opened the door and walked in, spotted me working out, and headed my way. I remembered he'd been so athletically gifted in middle school that he could have gone pro. It was still the cold season, so I'd never seen him in anything but thick clothes, but in a short-sleeve shirt and shorts, his whole body was covered in trained muscle.
"Wonjoong, you work out here?"
"First time today. You come often?"
"Every day, man. Police academy has a physical fitness test... not that I'd fail it, but exercise never hurts. Hey, by the way, that form won't do anything for you."
Seh-hwan corrected my clumsy form and walked me through proper technique in detail. Then, out of nowhere, he asked:
"So who'd you pick for tomorrow?"
"...I didn't make the cut."
"Whoa, seriously?"
My face suddenly burned with embarrassment. The me that Seh-hwan remembered was the school's greatest prodigy, the one who never let go of first place in the whole school. O, past glories... Then Seh-hwan suddenly broke into a wide grin and said to me:
"Hey, I picked that Jeong In-ae woman. Just thinking about fucking her tomorrow got me so hard I couldn't even study."