The Second Paradise
Two months had passed since I reconnected with Lee Hayoung to build my own business. Right now, I was listening to the wiretap file I'd planted on her phone.
Having become one of the Savior's close aides, Lee Hayoung had been feeding me a ton of valuable intel.
The Savior had assigned Lee Hayoung to spearhead a new venture: building the second Paradise.
Here, "Paradise" referred to the slave class system and Pleasure House the Savior had meticulously built. In other words, he was planning to franchise his pleasure kingdom.
"Gangwon-do, huh."
The new branch was going up in Gangwon-do, tied in with a casino. If Lee Hayoung took the top spot there, she'd wield tremendous power.
I have to make her mine, no matter what.
The current Lee Hayoung was a total game-changer, a wildcard that could shift everything.
Over the past two months, by wiretapping and surveilling her phone, I'd confirmed she still harbored a strong obsession with me. Just like I'd turned Lee Heeyeon—once utterly devoted to her Master—into mine, if I could claim Lee Hayoung from the Savior, I could pull off a massive reversal.
Who knew that suicide stunt would pay off so big.
I'd met up with Lee Hayoung about seven times in those two months. And through those meetings, I'd learned something crucial: there was a glitch in her memories.
Two months ago—the day of her suicide attempt—she'd passed out from carotid artery compression. The temporary oxygen cutoff to her brain had caused some damage, apparently. As a result, she'd lost chunks of memories from her conditioning under the Savior.
Specifically, parts of the terror from being locked in that chamber, facing death. A gap had formed in the Savior's brainwashing.
Definite good news for me.
Time to make my move.
Two months was plenty of time to test the waters. I'd been watching her closely during our meets, guarding against any potential betrayal. And now, I judged it safe to take her.
Time to reclaim what was originally mine.
Start light—get physical first.
Until now, our meetings had been limited to meals and catching up on each other's lives, slowly mending our shattered bond. And in that process, I'd confirmed the embers of her feelings still burned.
Whether it was love, hate, or twisted affection, I didn't know. But deep down, my desire for her lingered. From here on, I'd escalate to sex and test those emotions for real.
—Knock knock.
The knock at the door snapped me from my thoughts. Probably Lee Heeyeon, whom I'd summoned moments ago.
"Master♥ It's Lee Heeyeon."
"Come in."
—Whoosh.
The door swung open, revealing a stunning woman—my secretary, my right hand. She'd handled all the dirty work for me: drugs, scams, blackmail, sex, schemes, you name it. She was no mere flesh slave anymore; she was indispensable.
"Come here."
That's why I showered her with affection. A useful bitch like her deserved special treatment.
—Click-clack-click-clack.
Lee Heeyeon approached with sultry grace and melted into my arms. I stroked her hair, praising her recent results.
"You handled that last job perfectly. Woo Ji-chang's spirit must be shattered by now."
"Heehee. I just followed Master's orders♥ Your plan was flawless, that's why it worked♥"
She buried her face in me, deflecting the praise. I gave her a light kiss on the lips. That alone had her beaming with blissful smiles, eyes crinkling happily.
"Alright, let's get moving. Broadcast time soon, right?"
"Heehee. Yes...♥"
"Then let's go."
I stood and headed out. Six attendants waiting outside fell in step behind me. Lee Heeyeon schooled her expression, checking her files as she briefed me on the broadcast.
"We have five couples ready. Total viewers waiting at 270,000, mostly piled into the channel where you're appearing live."
"How are the actors holding up?"
"Gave the mentally shaky male actor some meds to calm him. The females are well-trained, no anxiety issues. Last check showed no problems."
"Good. Keep it tight—no accidents. I'm heading to room 3 with Woo Ji-chang as planned. Lee Heeyeon, stick with me."
"Heehee, an honor, Master."
I took Lee Heeyeon and went to Woo Ji-chang's setup.
Woo Ji-chang was the stepson of Choi Mi-ae, whom I'd recently corrupted. He'd been the dutiful boy head of household, stepping up after his father's death. But now, he was reduced to getting his ejaculations managed by his new "mom," Choi Mi-ae.
—Whoosh.
I threw open the studio door and strode in. Staff bustled around prepping the shoot. Choi Mi-ae lay on a mattress, blindfolded. Across from her, Woo Ji-chang was strapped to a chair, locked in a chastity device.
"You've gotten obedient."
I muttered at the sight of him meekly bound. He didn't react to my voice, just kept his head down.
"Boring. Thrash around a bit more—that'd be fun."
Woo Ji-chang, 23. This hot-blooded punk had lunged at me once before. He'd caught me getting a blowjob from his stepmom—whom he'd secretly adored—and flew into a rage, swinging fists.
Made sense; it was only two months after his dad's death. But regardless, I'd beaten the shit out of him.
Thwack! Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow!
And right in front of him, I'd made Choi Mi-ae suck me off. Her drug-fucked brain had her doing it eagerly, while the collapsed Woo Ji-chang watched her ass clench as she slurped my cock, anus and pussy winking.
"Woo Ji-chang, call it karma. Makes it easier for you."
Karma? Bullshit. The world wasn't some cartoon where justice prevails and evil gets punished—pure mirage.
I just invoked it to justify my actions.
"That guy you killed? Think of this as payback. Live with that forever."
Woo Ji-chang went to the same high school as me—we were the same age. Back then, he was a vicious bully, tormenting classmates constantly.
One day, his prank went too far. In front of everyone, he utterly destroyed a kid's spirit.
That kid jumped off the roof that same day.
Woo Ji-chang got expelled. Afterward, he seemed to straighten up—especially after his dad's accident, juggling part-time jobs to support his mom.
But his mom, Choi Mi-ae, happened to be my target. Bad luck; he got caught in my web just for having a hot mother.
"Let's start, then."
No personal grudge against the guy. But thinking back to his school bully days? Yeah, satisfying.
"Alright—broadcast starting. Three, two, one. Cue!"
The staff signal. Lights out everywhere. Then a single beam dropped.
There lay Choi Mi-ae on the mattress, legs lewdly spread.
"Hah... hah..."
Blindfolded, breathing heavily. She wore a slutty outfit barely covering her privates. Every staffer around sprouted tents from her erotic aura.
"I-Is it starting? M-Master!♥"
Sensing the broadcast live, she called for me, fingering her pussy frantically.
The sound tech amplified her voice vividly. Camera 2 zoomed on her slutty face. Lighting adjusted to spotlight her crotch. Staffers rubbed their dicks.
"Master...♥ Hurry... come to me♥"
My hired crew broadcast her depravity perfectly—to the hundreds of thousands watching.
Hundreds, thousands of chats flooding in the moment the broadcast went live. All VVIP members of my adult broadcast network—strict ID verification, total secrecy guaranteed, 1.5 million won per stream to access.
"Viewers are piling up fast."
Numbers skyrocketed right after start. Lee Heeyeon smiled beside me.
"Yes, Master. Up 7% from yesterday, 178% from last month."
"Not bad."
My business exploding. The payoff from two months of grinding solo.
Master's guaranteed success? I'd politely declined, built my own team, ran nonstop.
Gamble paid off big.
Starting my own venture was a huge risk. Safer to join one of Master's established ops.
But his setups lacked me. His casinos, drug labs—locked down by his inner circle. No room for a latecomer disciple like me.
So I borrowed 10 billion won from Master, assembled a broadcast crew, bought top gear, built a studio. Hired scriptwriters to showcase my corrupted women, advertisers to hype it, pro editors to polish the footage.
"Announcer in. Standby."
My broadcasts aimed for premium quality. Vetted members paying big bucks—no cheap AV knockoffs.
"Greetings, members. I am Park Ha-rin, Master's eternal slave and your announcer."
Lee Heeyeon was second; Park Ha-rin, the 28-year-old beauty I'd corrupted next. Once dreaming of announcing, now living it—pussy gaping as she approached Choi Mi-ae, narrating her state.
"Today's star is 46-year-old Choi Mi-ae. Beautiful housewife, well-maintained for her age."
Crisp, clear diction introducing her. Chats exploded again at her entrance. The mascot kicking off every show.
Praise for Park Announcer—no, Park Ha-rin—flooding in thousands. Lately, she got off on reading them, fueling her passion for the gig.
"...And so, Choi Mi-ae fell into Master's hands...♥ But it wasn't smooth. Her son resisted fiercely. But that didn't last—soon, he submitted too. Shall we see what he's like now?"
—Flash!
Another blinding light pierced the darkness. There sat Woo Ji-chang, bound to the chair, chastity cage rattling as he grimaced.
"..."
VVIPs showered him with contempt in chats: pity, mockery, arousal all mixed in a festival.