The Cheat Key
Her head snapped to the side, and a livid red welt bloomed across her cheek. Ji Hye-in's skin had always been so pale, so porcelain-white, that the mark of the slap stood out with brutal, unmistakable clarity.
"You fucking... you piece of slut trash... I treat you like a human being, and you think you can talk back to me? If you're not going to do it, get the hell out right now. You don't even deserve to wear clothes. Strip naked and get the fuck out this instant... you bitch."
Hwang Jeong-geon shouted it with the air of a man who had decided it was all or nothing.
"........."
She couldn't manage a single word in reply. Ji Hye-in stood there, face stunned, her whole body trembling.
Hwang Jeong-geon reached down between her legs. He shoved two fingers into her roughly, without ceremony—and sure enough, she was soaked through.
"Face down, you bitch."
Spitting the kind of crude curses you'd hear from street thugs, he shoved her down onto the bed on her stomach. Ji Hye-in lowered herself onto the mattress, her body shivering faintly. Hwang Jeong-geon had never trained her like this—not once—and the shock of it seemed to have left her completely at a loss.
He started smearing oil onto her anus again, the same as before. He didn't even apply it properly—just slapped it on in rough, careless strokes. The slick residue from earlier was still coating her there anyway.
"Don't move. If you mess this up, you'll tear."
As he spoke, Hwang Jeong-geon began slowly pushing his raging cock into her ass. But she was clenched tight, and it wouldn't go in.
"Relax."
He brought his open palm down across her ass—harder than before, incomparably harder. Not once. Three times in succession, each blow landing with a sharp, meaty crack. Vivid red handprints flared across that snow-white skin. Then he tried to push in again.
With one hand he seized a fistful of her hair, yanked her head back, and then let go. The tension had drained from her body far more than before; he could feel it.
"Nngh... ah... it hurts..."
A short, broken cry tore from Ji Hye-in's lips—but Hwang Jeong-geon had already succeeded in burying more than half of himself inside her. He drew back a fraction, then pushed in again. This time it went in far more easily. Now he was pulling all the way out and driving back in, over and over, and Ji Hye-in gripped the bedsheets in both fists, hanging on as if the pain might split her apart.
There had been no enema, no special preparation for this. But they had met in the morning, and she had already been to the bathroom before coming over; not a trace of anything soiled him as he worked her open. Hwang Jeong-geon watched even that with clinical attention, proceeding with the anal initiation as carefully as the roughness of the act would allow. This was no prearranged session. It was happening almost by force, sprung on her without warning, and he was observing every detail.
He had the feel of it now. Ji Hye-in's pussy had been exquisite—but her ass, he was beginning to think, was in a class of its own. He had been the one to open her back there, and it was a taste he wanted to keep hidden from the other members.
His face flushed a deep, congested red. He was ready to enjoy her properly now.
The thrusting turned rough, a sudden storm of it—and he didn't last. Hot seed spilled into her ass before he could hold himself back. She was clenched so impossibly tight that there was simply no enduring it. For all his years as a seasoned trainer, he was still a man.
Ji Hye-in shuddered in time with his orgasm, a tremor running through her whole body.
That was when it happened.
From beneath her, still face-down on the bed, a powerful jet of fluid began to spray. She panicked, not knowing what to do with herself, but the stream would not let up. It just kept gushing, arcing down onto the sheets in a long, unbroken stream.
"It's all right. Just... let your body do what it wants."
Hwang Jeong-geon murmured it, patting her back. Ji Hye-in emptied herself onto the bed for a long time, still on all fours like an animal, the stream pouring out of her—and then she simply collapsed, sprawled across the mattress. Her forehead and face were dripping with sweat.
A little while later, the two of them lay tangled together on the bed, not a scrap of clothing between them. Ji Hye-in was curled in Hwang Jeong-geon's arms.
"Hye-in. Listen. About you..."
The rough, ugly language from before was gone. His voice had settled again—quiet, even, the calm register she knew.
"Yes, Doctor. But... I'm sorry. I'll take the sheets with me and wash them. I'll put fresh ones on before I go."
"No need. I can always buy another bed. That's not what matters right now. From this moment, I want you to answer my questions honestly."
"Yes, Doctor."
"Have you ever been forced? Forcibly... raped."
"........."
Ji Hye-in couldn't answer right away.
"Who was your first? How old were you?"
"M-my husband. Before we got married. I was twenty-two. With my husband..."
"Was that voluntary? With your husband?"
"........."
"If it's hard to answer, just follow my questions slowly. It'll make you feel easier. Did your husband force himself on you that first time?"
"Th-that's..."
"He got you drunk. A girl who'd never been with a man. And he forced you. I'm right, aren't I?"
"Yes..."
She answered in a small voice, unable to lift her face.
"And you liked it. That memory was so good... that's why you still can't let go of your husband's hand."
"Th-that's..."
She couldn't get the words out properly—but Hwang Jeong-geon had already heard the answer in her face, in the way her body moved. He pushed a finger deep into her pussy, and with his middle finger buried inside her, he asked the next question.
"Yeom Seong-bong always handled you roughly, didn't he. Like he was forcing you. Sometimes he even hit you."
"........."
Her face went scarlet. She couldn't manage a single reply. But from between her legs, something hot was pouring out of her again in thick, sudden pulses. At the mere mention of Yeom Seong-bong treating her roughly, her body had answered with heat.
Hwang Jeong-geon let out a quiet sigh. Every last piece of the puzzle had fallen into place. This was going to be far easier than he had expected. If I'd known she was this type of woman, I should have just gone at her from instinct from the start. I wasted so much time.
Looking at it now, Yeom Seong-bong might well have read her nature at a glance and taken hold of her as easily as breathing.
There was something he needed to go back over, here. The thing that had broken the arrangement between Yeom Seong-bong and Ji Hye-in had never been her doing. Not even close. Yeom Seong-bong hadn't been able to monopolize her—hadn't been able to have her completely to himself—and the profound sense of loss had driven him to put on that little show all on his own.
But for that hypothesis to hold, there had to have been a third man between her husband and Yeom Seong-bong. Not someone from the cafe. Someone else. Someone had already been training her, long before any of this. Only the direction of that training had been different—different from the cafe's, and different from Yeom Seong-bong's as well.
Hwang Jeong-geon turned the various possibilities over in his mind. But there was no need to rush anymore. He had found the cheat key. The finer details could wait. Push too fast and he risked the whole thing backfiring—and that, he told himself, he would not do.
After a long, grueling day, Yoo Kang-soo stepped into the studio apartment—and the rich, savory smell of fish cake soup and pork bulgogi hit him all at once, filling every corner of the small room. A broad smile spread across his face before he could stop it. His wife was there, an apron tied around her waist, laying out the dinner table.
Without even realizing it, he felt himself growing hard. He saw Ji Hye-in's face almost every evening on video call, without fail—but having her this close, catching the actual scent of her skin, made all the lust that had been building up inside him surge to a boil.