The Scent of Milk
Minjun's cock stood at attention every morning without fail, still carrying the full vigor of a twenty-year-old. While he slept, his older sister slipped quietly through the door, dropped low, and crawled under the blanket toward the stiff tent pitched beneath the covers.
Seoyeon peeled down his underwear and took the head into her mouth. The warmth of sleeping Minjun spread across the tip of her tongue.
She traced the rim of his urethra slowly. Her tongue remembered the lingering, salty aftertaste of last night's cum, and deeper still, the taut pull of a bladder already filling.
Piss that had not yet come out. She knew it was strange to wait for it, yet every time she pressed the tip of her tongue against the slit, heat bloomed low in her belly.
She ran her tongue down the shaft and took his balls into her mouth one after the other. The damp, soft, wrinkled skin clung to her lips. Following what she had learned over her mother's shoulder on previous nights, she pressed the perineum with her right index and middle fingers.
When she firmly pushed the slight hollow, sleeping Minjun's hips jerked reflexively.
He should be getting desperate soon.
She glanced up at his lower abdomen. Once the bladder filled, Minjun's cock grew even harder. That was something Seoyeon had learned after several days of careful observation. She took the head back into her mouth.
A clear bead welled from the slit. Neither cum nor piss but something in between—salty, faintly ammoniac precum—she licked it up and swallowed. As always it tasted a little salty, a little bitter. It brought back the taste from the bathtub last time, the full sensation of Minjun's piss spreading through her belly in the warm water.
She had not been unaware that she was growing stranger. She simply did not mind becoming strange. That was the more frightening part.
Minjun stirred. Seoyeon pulled her mouth free and smoothly climbed astride his stomach.
"…It's Seoyeon-noona."
Even in the dark he knew her by the weight of her breasts alone. In this house, only Seoyeon had that mid-range D-cup size.
"Who did you think it was?"
"Who else would it be."
Seoyeon settled on his hips and slowly rolled her ass. Still in her underwear, Minjun's cock pressed against her sex through the skirt. Two layers of wet cloth, yet the heat came through undiminished.
"How about today. I'm fine."
"Fine with what."
"Everything."
She leaned down and kissed him, mixing saliva as she pushed her tongue in. At the same time her hand slid down and wrapped around his cock. The head was slick. She could no longer tell whose spit it was.
"You sucked me again."
Minjun said it the moment their lips parted, more observation than accusation. Seoyeon turned her head with a show of indifference.
"I only sucked. Seriously."
"My dick's gonna fall off for real."
"Shut your mouth."
She pressed her palm firmly against his belly, right over the bladder.
"You're going to the bathroom, right? Let's go together."
Seoyeon rose first and pulled him up by the hand. They walked the hallway hand in hand. The way she gripped him was less lover than something closer to obsession, fingers laced deep as if she refused to let go. The same patterned wallpaper repeated endlessly along the corridor walls.
In front of the toilet Minjun dropped his pants and a stream of piss struck the water. Seoyeon rested her chin on his shoulder from behind and drew a deep breath. The ammonia smell spread across the bathroom tiles. Her eyes half-closed.
When Minjun shook off and reached for toilet paper, Seoyeon intercepted his hand.
"I'll wipe you."
She tore off two sheets and wrapped the head, gently cleaning around the slit, then carefully pressed the perineum to coax out the last drop still lingering in the prostate. Minjun looked for a moment at the callused tips of her fingers.
"You know you've been following me to the bathroom every time lately, noona?"
"You're imagining things. I needed to piss too."
He did not tell her to pull up her skirt. Seoyeon sat on the toilet herself. While the sound of her own piss echoed through the bathroom, the used tissue remained clenched in her hand. Minjun left first.
After flushing, Seoyeon unfolded the tissue. A yellow stain had soaked through. She brought it close to her nose and inhaled slowly. Her heart pounded.
This was clearly not normal. She folded the tissue and pushed it deep into her pocket.
At the table the plates were set but there was almost no food. Opening the refrigerator revealed only a couple of side-dish containers, half a bag of bread, and a few eggs. The ingredients that had once stocked every duplicated house had somehow run dry.
Breakfast now meant little more than simple toast, fried ham, and an omelet mixed with mayonnaise and microwaved. (There was some thinly sliced half-frozen cabbage, but only Suyeon bothered to dress it; the other four ignored it completely.)
No one reached for a spoon first. In the faintly awkward air they eyed one another before finally biting into sandwiches. The remaining slices of ham were passed around until the last one was torn 3:7 between Minjun and Seoyeon as they both reached for it.
After the meager meal Yujin adjusted her mask at the table. Her split tongue rubbed against the roof of her mouth. No one yet knew about that tongue. No one except Minjun. The patterns, the stone tablet, everything she had done through the night. What would her sister say if she found out. The mere thought chilled her lower belly. But something more urgent pressed now.
"Hey, unnie."
Her voice came from behind the mask, lower and calmer than usual.
"You've noticed how your body keeps leaning toward Minjun lately, right?"
Suyeon's hand stopped on the wet dishcloth.
"And Seoyeon. You too."
Seoyeon lifted her head.
"Following him to every bathroom, coming out of Minjun's room every morning. You think I don't know?"
Seoyeon's face flushed. She clenched the tissue in her pocket.
"Jiwoo too. Hand under the table."
Jiwoo's hand slowly rose from beneath her skirt.
"Everyone seems possessed by something. Whether it was the milk or the bathtub or whatever. But you're all holding it alone. That's the most dangerous part."
Yujin looked down at her own hands. The black vine patterns climbing to her wrists hid beneath her sleeves. She still could not show them.
"And… Minjun said it clearly before. Don't touch the strange objects."
Suyeon's hand froze. Seoyeon gripped the tissue tighter. Jiwoo pulled her hand free of her skirt.
"We all sat at this table, heard it, and agreed. But no one kept it. Unnie, Seoyeon, Jiwoo. And…"
She could not finish. The words me too caught in her throat.
Suyeon slowly nodded and set down the wet cloth.
"You're right… Minjun did say that. We all heard it together."
"Mom's been weird lately too. Rules don't even cross my mind anymore. My body just moves first."
Before she finished speaking her upper body had already tilted toward Minjun. Suyeon quickly straightened.
Seoyeon patted both cheeks with her hands.
"I'll admit it. I feel completely insane. Rules or whatever… my body just goes. Like some dog or cat."
She fiddled with the tissue in her pocket. The dried piss-stained paper rustled. Yujin heard it but said nothing. She was hiding things of her own.
Jiwoo said nothing at all. Only the hand that had gone under her skirt answered for her.
"So the problem isn't the rules."
Yujin rested her hands on the table.
"The rules already existed and we all knew them. Yet no one could keep them. Has anyone thought about why?"
No one answered. They glanced at one another's eyes.
Seoyeon's foot was still sliding Minjun's zipper up and down. Jiwoo's hand had slipped back under her skirt. Suyeon kept leaning toward Minjun even while washing dishes. Only Yujin watched the scene in silence.
Why can't anyone keep this.
Including herself. Herself, hiding the black vines under her sleeves. She had set the rules yet never shared her own patterns or her tongue. She could not bring the words out of her mouth.
A question whose owner no one could name floated above the table. Suyeon felt the strangeness even as she washed dishes. Seoyeon's hand trembled as she touched the tissue in her pocket. Only Yujin—the one who had held out longest—vaguely sensed that the source of this unease was not simple habit or corruption.
But as long as she did not reveal her own secret, she could not find the courage to press all the way to the end.
It would be later, not now, that they realized how many uncanny items they had passed through fifteen houses without ever discovering. Things left unsmashed, unchecked. Those things multiplied with every duplicated house, seeping slowly into the family's minds through walls and air and skin.
No one knew that yet.
Breakfast was little more than a formality. Two slices of bread left, one bottle of water in the fridge. No cola, of course. No milk, of course. On the morning of the duplication Minjun had been about to go out for milk that had run out; he had seen the scene beyond the front door and never managed to buy any. Instead, something to please the mouth—
Minjun laid his head on Jiwoo's lap. She pulled her top up. The bra had been discarded long ago. When Jiwoo leaned slightly forward to feed him, her swollen breasts swayed gently in front of his face.
Minjun took a nipple into his mouth and began to suck slowly. Suck, suck. The sound of milk being drawn filled the living room.
"Oppa… you can suck more. I didn't express this morning so they're sore."
Jiwoo pulled his head tighter against her chest. When the areola disappeared into his mouth her back arched faintly toward climax. Milk jetted harder, striking the back of his throat. Her hand stroked his hair, then drifted lower, past her own belly, and guided his hand between her thighs.
"Touch me gently…"
Her voice was already half-melted from the pleasure of being nursed. Minjun's hand slipped under her skirt. Fingers found her entrance. It was tight and hot as a heating pack. When he slowly pushed in one middle finger her hips jerked.
"I'll put in another."
Jiwoo nodded. His index finger worked in beside the middle. After a slight resistance of flesh both were inside. Her walls clenched around them.
"Still a virgin, of course. This is how the world should be."
Minjun murmured with satisfaction between sucks. He withdrew his fingers, coated them in her juices, and pushed back in. This time a wet sound accompanied the entry. Suyeon was clearing plates at the table. Seoyeon sat on the sofa with her legs spread, fingering her own labia. Yujin watched from the hallway, paused a moment, then entered her room as if nothing were amiss.
Minjun bent Jiwoo over the dining table. Where bread crumbs had lain moments before, her cheek now pressed. He rolled her skirt to her waist and pulled her panties to her knees. Between the thin outer lips the soft pink flesh glistened wet.
"It'll hurt a little at first, so bear it."
Instead of answering Jiwoo gripped the tablecloth. The head found her entrance and pushed in. Her whole body locked with tension.
"Don't hold your breath. Breathe in. Slowly."
Jiwoo drew a trembling breath. In that instant Minjun drove his hips deep. Her hymen tore and the cry that burst from her mouth was closer to a moan. A thin thread of blood ran down the inside of her thigh.
"It's all the way in."
He paused to let her body adjust. Her walls gripped and released the unfamiliar cock. The tightest twenty-year-old pussy. When he slowly withdrew and thrust again, Jiwoo's breasts flattened against the table. Milk was squeezed out and spread across the cloth, white liquid soaking into the fabric.
The rhythm of his hips quickened. With every thrust a moan left her mouth; with every withdrawal milk beaded and fell. Her thin outer lips wrapped the root of his cock; the inner folds stayed completely hidden. Virgin blood and juices mixed and ran down the shaft.
The scent of milk filled the entire house.
Suyeon washed dishes at the kitchen sink. Behind her came the sound of her daughter being fucked by her son for the first time. The speed of the cloth on the plate did not change. A drop of milk flew and landed on the edge of the sink.
Will it reset when we move to the next house?
Suyeon wiped the splattered milk with the dishcloth. The tablecloth was already beyond washing. In the sixteenth house there would be a clean one. And the food had run out anyway. Within a few days everyone would have to move. She braced her hands on the sink and breathed in the milk scent.
It seems like two liters a day. Should I collect it and try making butter or pudding?
On the sofa Seoyeon rubbed her own pussy and panted. Her fingers slipped past the folds and in and out of her hole. Jiwoo's milk smell stabbed her nose. Strangely, it smelled sweet. Without thinking she touched her own chest. The bra was slightly damp.
What the hell is this.
She brought the finger that had rubbed the bra under her nose. A faintly sweet smell. When she pulled the cup down and gently squeezed the nipple, a clear bead formed. Not yet milky white. But the smell was unmistakable—the same milk her mother and Jiwoo had first drunk.
Seoyeon watched Jiwoo's breast milk spray in every direction each time her hips rocked on the table. Something floated in the air. Like invisible spores.
The scent of milk was contagious.
She looked out the window. The fog had already reached right up against the glass. Writhing gray particles groped at the window seams. Suyeon turned from the sink and saw it.
Inside the fog something was slowly changing shape. A form not yet recognizable.
No one yet knew what would happen to these rooms if that fog came inside.