Copy Me
"Do me. An impression of me."
"Hey, copy. Head down. I don't want to look at my owner's face."
Seo-ah rested the heel of her stiletto against Lara's back. Lara, crouched on all fours, bowed her head even deeper.
Two more days had passed. Morning, the third-floor studio of the Raon Agency building. It was Seo-ah's lingerie shoot, the concept being "owner and livestock." Seo-ah played the owner, and the prop livestock was the most expensive animal Raon owned — R-0412, Lara.
Serin had booked the schedule. Lending out the company's livestock for its contracted models' shoots was common practice, so Yura had stamped the approval without a second thought.
"Wow, it really is identical. Crawling around wearing its owner's face — actually kind of entertaining. Right, you bug?"
The shutter clattered. Seo-ah giggled and tapped Lara's nape with her fingertip.
"Unnie, that was just me talking to the livestock~ Don't get the wrong idea."
Bug. Four days ago, in this very studio, that was the word Yura had flung at Seo-ah. Hearing it now raining back down onto her own face irritated her. Somewhere low in her abdomen pulled strangely tight.
Behind the camera, arms crossed in front of the monitor, Yura lifted only one corner of her mouth.
"Continue."
"Unnie, you're so cool about everything~ Well, I guess that's how you snagged the Paris gig too — rolling out the livestock to take the hits. It even rode the wire. I watched the whole thing from right beside you."
Yura deemed it not worth answering and kept her eyes on the monitor. It was obvious what Seo-ah was trying to scratch at. The Maison Bellor campaign had originally been Seo-ah's first pick.
Yura had taken it. The one hanging from that decisive high-wire had been… Lara.
On the monitor, Lara lay prone at Seo-ah's feet. A lace bra and garter that left her breasts on display, a stiletto propped against her back, her head bowed.
"They say the owner's frigid, so how about you? Does a livestock cunt get wet?"
Another shutter click. A few of the staff snickered. Seo-ah caught Lara's chin on her fingertip and turned her face toward the camera.
"Eyes here, bug."
Lara's gaze passed over the lens, then lingered for a moment on Yura, standing behind the monitor.
Yura didn't uncross her arms. But something was wrong. Every time Seo-ah opened her mouth, every time an insult landed on her own face on the screen, her thighs pressed together on their own. Inside her slacks, her cunt was steadily soaking through her panties.
What is this.
It had been the same two days ago in the car — hearing her own face being used by someone else. But today no one was using her; she was being insulted, and still her body reacted.
She told herself it was anger. Exhaustion, and disgust at Seo-ah. Yura crossed her legs. A numb tingle spread out from her pinched clit.
"Serin. I'm leaving early."
Yura walked out before the shoot was over. From behind her, Seo-ah's voice rang out one more time.
"Lift that ass, bug. None of that stiff act like your owner."
Yura went up to the fifth-floor executive office and locked the door. When she pushed her slacks down in the attached bathroom, the lining of her panties was transparent with wetness. She pressed a finger against herself; her cunt slid open, slick.
Impossible. I'm watching Seo-ah insult livestock and my pussy is—
The finger that had gone down just to confirm it wouldn't leave her clit. Perched on the toilet lid, legs spread, she rubbed her soaked cunt in slow circles.
She closed her eyes and the monitor floated up behind them. Her own face crouched beneath a stiletto heel, the words falling over it — you bug. One finger slid into her cunt of its own accord. The inside bit down and clenched around it.
Yura yanked her hand away. She had been right on the edge.
…It's just fatigue.
She washed her hands three times. The scent of her own arousal clung to her fingertips and refused to leave.
Four o'clock in the afternoon, the Hannam-dong penthouse.
When Yura opened the dress room door, twenty or so Polaroid photos lay scattered across the vanity in front of the mirror. On the back of every one was the same signature — the long trailing final stroke, the little upward flick at the last letter. All of it, down to the quirks.
It was Yura's signature. And the one writing it was Lara, dressed in Yura's black silk dress. Serin must have driven her back here straight after the shoot.
Only when her eyes met Yura's in the mirror did Lara set down the pen. She didn't scramble. She smoothed the hem of the dress once, then sank to her knees right where she was.
"In case something comes up that requires your signature, ma'am. At the brand event last time, it was my hand on the Polaroid too. The strokes were slightly off."
"That dress is—"
"When I wear your clothes, the handwriting comes out closer to yours."
Yura picked up one of the photos. It was a flawless signature. If anything, it looked more like Yura than Yura's own did these days, scrawled carelessly between meetings.
It made her sick. She couldn't have said exactly what was wrong with it.
"Take it off. That's mine."
"Yes, ma'am."
The black silk slid off her shoulders and pooled at her ankles. She wore nothing underneath. The same breasts as Yura's, the same narrow waist, the small mole below the left collarbone. Not even the imprint of Seo-ah's stiletto heel remained on her back.
Yura snatched up the dress and shoved it into the drawer — then froze. At the very bottom of the drawer sat a yellowed file folder. The custom order sheet from Mir Breeding, filled out in her own hand two years ago.
Grade: Complete Stand-In Type — face, physique, fingerprints, and mole placement matched.
Price: 480,000,000 KRW.
Fingerprints and all… I chose that, didn't I.
Because she had needed a perfect tool. Yura closed the drawer.
"Ma'am. What I mentioned two days ago."
Lara looked up from her knees, bare as the day she was made.
"Please teach me how you come. That's the only way I can become you — perfectly."
Yura opened her phone and reread the text Minhyuk had sent two days ago. I want to hear your voice louder.
If Minhyuk starts thinking something's off, that's a problem. That's all this is.
Yura went to the leather armchair in the corner of the dress room and sat. When she kicked off her slacks and panties, the lining gleamed with the arousal that had been leaking out of her all morning. She shoved them aside with her foot.
"…Do me. An impression. Hurry."
Lara came forward on her knees and pressed her lips to the inside of Yura's parted thighs. Slowly, toward her cunt. The pussy that had been wet all day must have reeked of sour arousal — Lara simply smeared the tip of her nose through the folds and breathed in deep.
Filthy animal— Before she could even finish the thought, a tongue swept over her clit once.
"Hn."
A short moan slipped out. Lara lifted her mouth, looked up at Yura, and made the same sound.
"Hn."
The same pitch, breaking at the same point in the breath. Yura heard her own moan returned to her from directly in front of her own cunt.
"…Don't. Do that."
"I'm learning."
Lara wrapped her lips around the clit and sucked — a soft pop as she released it. Then she took each swollen lip into her mouth one at a time and rolled them with her tongue. A thread of arousal stretched from the entrance of her cunt down to Lara's chin. Lara stiffened the point of her tongue, pushed it inside, stirred, and scooped the wetness up.
"Ah…"
"Ah…"
This time Lara's echo came before Yura had even swallowed the sound.
How… how does she know what noises I make.
Two of Lara's fingers spread the soaked entrance and pushed in. The upper wall inside — the spot Lara had pressed four days ago, the one Yura had found for herself in the car two nights back. Lara's curled fingers scraped slowly over it.
"Hah… ah, nn…"
"Hah… ah, nn…"
Lara flattened her tongue wide over the whole of the clit and rubbed it in slow, heavy strokes. Each time the fingers pressed the upper wall, the tongue bore down on the clit from the other side. Squeezed from inside and out, onto a single point. Yura's hips bucked off the chair.
Squelch, squelch. Over the wet sounds of fingers moving in and out, the identical moans doubled into layers. In the mirror, two identical faces wore the same expression, mouths open.
This is insane… I make noises like this?
Yura had always believed she came low and quiet. Restrained, like her on-camera face. But hearing it out of Lara's mouth, that wasn't restraint at all. It was the pleading moan of someone failing to hold back the words fuck me harder.
"You hold your breath twice here, ma'am."
Lara whispered it, fingers buried deep.
"Your cunt clenches twice, and on the third the sound comes out. Your toes curl starting with the right foot."
"Shut up…"
Her toes were curling. Right now. Lara watched it happen and pressed her tongue back onto her clit. Fast, precise. The fingers stayed pressed to the upper wall, trembling.
"Ah, ah… there, nngh…!"
One held breath. Two. On the third, the moan broke loose.
"Ah, aahh…!"
Her thighs clamped around Lara's head. Her cunt bit down hard on the fingers, again and again, then released. Arousal dripped down Lara's chin in fat drops.
Lara kept her tongue resting gently on the clit until the convulsions subsided. When Yura's breathing had evened a little, she raised her head.
"Ah, aahh…!"
The exact moan Yura had just made at her peak. Not a hair's breadth off.
"…That's how you come, ma'am."
Yura's face burned.
"Good work."
Lara said it with her mouth still coated in arousal. Short, clipped flat at the end. The exact tone Yura used when tossing the phrase at someone who'd done their job.
"…What did you say?"
"What you say to me, ma'am. I've been practicing."
Lara smiled politely. Glistening lips, one corner of her mouth raised.
Yura started to snap something back — and stopped. She'd just come, and yet her cunt clenched again, sharp. All it had taken was her own face, in her own voice, saying good work.
Lara spoke without withdrawing her fingers.
"Ma'am. Back at the studio."
"…What."
"When Ms. Seo-ah asked whether livestock cunts get wet — you crossed your legs in front of the monitor."
Yura's whole body went rigid. The fingers inside her must have felt every bit of it.
"Bullshit."
"Yes, ma'am."
Rather than argue, Lara began moving her fingers again — very slowly. The passage still raw from its climax fluttered sensitively around them.
"Then let's verify it. Just once. Tell me if you don't want to."
Say no. You're livestock — what right do you have to verify anything.
Her cunt still quivering, Yura opened her mouth. What came out was this:
"…Do it."
To prove it was bullshit. Even with her pussy soaked like this, that was what she told herself.
Lara rose up onto her knees, fingers still buried to the hilt, and brought her face to Yura's ear. Her breath touched the lobe. Then she whispered — not imitating Seo-ah's tone, just flat and even.
"You bug."
Her cunt clamped down hard.
Before Yura could even catch her breath, the passage was squeezing the fingers on its own — grip, grip, rippling. Arousal ran down the fingers and pooled in Lara's palm.
No. No, this is—
Lara pressed her thumb to the clit and rolled it in circles, adding one more line.
"None of that stiff act like your owner. Lift that ass."
"Nngh…!"
Seo-ah's words. The ones that had rained down on Lara's back in the studio this morning. And now they were falling into Yura's ear, in Yura's own voice, together with the fingers stirring her cunt.
Her hips lifted. Fingers still stuffed in her cunt, as if someone had ordered it.
Why… why does my body move first…
Lara slid her other hand under the raised hips and seized a handful of ass. Between the fingers in her cunt and the hand gripping her rear, Yura's entire lower body was caught and held.
Lara went still, fingers pushed to the deepest point. The way the passage bit and released at the fingers of its own accord must have carried straight through to her palm. Being caught out was more humiliating than any insult. Two of a livestock's fingers — and her own cunt was answering them.
"Ah, ah… stop, don't… nngh…!"
For all her protests, her cunt wouldn't let go of Lara's fingers. Lara added a third. Three of them sank to the root, pulled out, sank in again. Squelch, squelch, squelch — far wetter than before.
Lara curled the fingers, raking up the upper wall, and crushed the clit with the heel of her palm. Every thrust landed the wet palm against her mound with a slap. Yura tried to close her legs; Lara wedged her body between her thighs and forced them apart.
"Do livestock cunts get wet?"
Lara whispered it into her pussy. Word for word what Seo-ah had said. Then came one more line, slightly bent out of shape.
"Spreading that cunt with your owner's face on it — actually kind of entertaining."
Seo-ah had said crawling around. Out of Lara's mouth it had become spreading that cunt. Yura caught the difference, and her cunt caught it first.
Lara took Yura's earlobe between her lips. The same ear she'd slap away whenever Minhyuk touched it. This time Yura couldn't escape.
"You bug. Coming so sweetly with your owner's face."
Seo-ah… never said that.
Yura knew. That line was Lara's invention. She knew it — and her cunt clenched anyway.
"…Sh-shut up… ah, aaahh…!"
This time there wasn't even a gap to hold her breath. Her right toes curled first, then her back arched clean off the chair. Her cunt seized all three fingers at once and convulsed.
Longer than before, deeper. When Lara refused to stop, kept grinding the upper wall as the spasms tried to die down, they surged back up. Yura sobbed through the second wave, her spine bowing.
A spurt of arousal splashed from her cunt and soaked Lara's wrist. The overflow spilled across the leather of the chair, drenching the seat beneath her.
While her cunt was still quaking, Yura's hands were clamped on Lara's shoulders. The hands that had meant to push her away had stopped right there, gripping on like a drowning woman.
It was a long while before she got her breath back.
Lara licked her clean in slow, upward strokes. As if determined not to leave a single drop of the mess, she tongued between the folds, letting her fingertip-light tongue merely brush the oversensitized clit. Every graze made Yura's thighs jump.
Only then did she withdraw her fingers and kneel again at Yura's side. No that confirms it, no knowing look. She simply folded her soiled hands on her knees, respectfully, and waited.
It would have been easier if she'd smirked.
It's because I hate Seo-ah. Because that woman's voice kept coming back to me, because I was angry…
But the arousal soaking into the leather hadn't even cooled yet. What had soaked Yura through wasn't Seo-ah's voice — it was hearing the insults in her own.
She started to say it never happened, then closed her mouth. If she said it out loud, she suspected that this time she'd be the first one not to believe it.
Just then, her phone rang. Serin.
Yura pressed her wet thighs together, coughed twice, and answered in the voice she always used on set.
"What is it."
"Ma'am, we've heard from Chairman Tae-kyung. Monday evening, at Hotel Servan."
"Understood. Send Lara."
"That's… this time he wants you both. For the whole evening."
"…What?"
"You and the livestock, both of you. He says he wants you seated side by side where he can look at you. In exchange, he's paying double. Six hundred million."
Side by side. Her own face — and the livestock wearing it.
Yura couldn't answer. The cunt that had come twice in the last hour clenched once more at those words.
At her side, Lara lifted her head. Yura's arousal still glistened at the corner of her mouth. Hers was the face of someone who had heard every word of the call.
Lara said nothing. She didn't even wipe her lips. She simply folded her hands on her knees and looked up at Yura.