Chapter 20: The Female — Feminization Degradation, Voyeurism, Orgy, Heat
Jaewon had waited a long time.
Ever since the day he first witnessed the way Taeyang handled Seoyeon. Taeyang held Seoyeon's past in his fist and blackmailed her into staying tethered at his side. He'd made refusal impossible — and he savored it. The exact same way he had broken Nana.
Jaewon wrote it all down in a notebook. Dates, times, Taeyang's actions, the expressions on Seoyeon's face. Three months passed. The notebook became three.
Jaewon came to a conclusion.
That Taeyang walked into Jaewon's pharmacy was pure coincidence.
He said he'd come for something for a headache. As Jaewon took the medicine down, he studied Taeyang's face. Bleached blond hair. Tanned skin. A lazy, insolent gaze.
While tucking the headache pills into a paper envelope — he slipped something else in with them. A small, transparent capsule.
Taeyang took the envelope and walked out.
Jaewon opened his notebook and wrote the date at the top of a fresh page.
It was the morning of the fifth day.
In front of the mirror — Taeyang froze.
His shoulders had narrowed. His waist had cut in deep. His hips — they swept in an artistic curve. His chest had grown full. Round and firm, with a weight that answered gravity yet held its shape.
Taeyang couldn't take his eyes off the mirror.
The body was — beautiful. It left him utterly lost. He should have been furious. He should have been dumbstruck. But the figure in the glass was so beautiful that his gaze simply would not leave it.
His hand rose. Without his willing it. His palm came to rest along the curve of his chest.
"…What the hell is this?"
A current ran down his spine the instant his fingertip found a nipple. Taeyang snatched his hand away — then put it back. The current ran again. Watching his own body in the mirror, he could feel the place below his belly stirring in answer.
His fingers traced circles over the nipple. Carefully. He could feel something gathering hard and tight at his fingertips. That sensation dropped straight down into his gut. The insides of his thighs began to burn.
Taeyang looked at the mirror. At his own flushed face.
He'd never once made a face like that in his life.
His fingers pressed harder. "Ah—" The sound slipped out before he could stop it. His hand didn't stop either. It felt as though the place below his belly were filling to the brim. The expression in the mirror kept sliding toward something unrecognizable.
Alone in front of the mirror, Taeyang began to come apart.
On the fifteenth day, Taeyang went out into the crowded heart of the city.
A short skirt. No panties underneath. The hem flapped as he walked, and the breeze brushed the insides of his thighs. That alone was enough to make the place below his belly clench and start to drip.
He felt the eyes of men on him.
Once, Taeyang had been the one throwing looks like that. Now he was the one catching them. The stares seemed to press directly onto his skin — and his legs went weak.
At the mouth of an alley, a man caught Taeyang's arm. Taeyang didn't shake him off. He followed — in the direction the man pulled him.
It was a dark alley.
The man looked at Taeyang, asking with his eyes alone. Taeyang — nodded.
The man pushed him up against the wall. A hand seized the collar of Taeyang's shirt — and yanked.
Fabric tore.
Taeyang went rigid. The shirt hung open, his chest bared.
The man's hand closed hard over a breast.
"Nn—"
He tried to bite the sound back — too late. The man's grip tightened. It wasn't kneading. It was a rough, crushing squeeze. Taeyang thought he ought to — resist the sensation.
But his body didn't resist.
It caught fire instead.
Every time the hand crushed his chest, a current poured down through his nipples. Heat spread across the insides of his thighs. He could even feel the air moving against him — against the fact that there was nothing underneath.
The man hiked up the skirt, and discovering there was nothing beneath it, he laughed, low.
The laugh reached Taeyang's ears.
"Your body's honest, isn't it?"
The words he used to say to Nana, to Seoyeon — had come back around to him now. And strangely, that thought made the place below his belly burn even hotter.
The moment the man entered him, Taeyang's back arched clean off the wall.
"Haaah—"
The cry rang down the alley. He couldn't muffle it. From somewhere deep in his belly came a kind of sensation he had never once known — like wrapping around something, being wrapped around it. The man paid no attention to any of Taeyang's reactions. He simply moved at his own rhythm. Brutal. Fast.
Taeyang braced a hand against the wall. His fingers dug in.
It felt — so good.
That fact confused him. To a man whose name he didn't even know. Pinned against an alley wall. And yet his body — was responding with everything it had.
The hand crushing his chest and the hard length driving up into him stacked higher and higher — and something inside Taeyang's body burst all at once. His back bowed deep. The strength drained out of his braced arm.
"Haaaaah—"
Hot, slick arousal spilled down from where their bodies joined. Taeyang's hips pulled toward the man by pure reflex. Deeper. His oversensitized depths took every last stimulus and doubled it.
The man finished. Then he left Taeyang right there and simply walked off.
Taeyang stayed leaning against the wall.
His legs were shaking. He could feel it trickling down the insides of his thighs. The torn shirt. The alley floor.
He should have been ashamed.
And yet.
His body was already wanting more.
Taeyang pulled the ruined shirt closed and let the skirt fall back down. Then he walked out into the busy streets again — in search of a second man.
It was the twenty-first day.
Taeyang was already broken.
A back alley off the main street. Three men were gang-raping Taeyang.
Taeyang had knelt down first.
One man stood in front of him. Taeyang reached out and took him in hand, already aching with need. Feeling the weight and heat against his palm, he opened his mouth slowly.
The moment it touched his tongue — heavy, scalding. Taeyang began to move, slow and deliberate. His lips drew tight around it. The man's hand came down on Taeyang's head and pulled him in. Deeper. Until it reached the back of his throat. His breath caught for one beat, then broke free. That catching — he loved it.
Another man stood at his left, and Taeyang's right hand reached for him. He wrapped his palm around it and stroked, slow, up and down. Heat passed between his fingers. He could feel the pulse beating, sharp and clear, at his fingertips.
And from behind — hands seized his hips.
Still on his knees, Taeyang lifted his hips.
The instant he was entered from behind, the thing in his mouth was driven deeper too. Front and back at once. Taeyang's right hand moved faster. Being filled in three places at the same time — what tolled deep in his belly, what packed his mouth full, the pulse beating into his palm.
"Hk— nnngh—"
The sound caught in his throat and leaked out anyway. His body rocked back and forth to the rhythm moving behind him, and every sway drove it deeper into his mouth. His hand chased that same rhythm.
His knees scraped the cold floor of the alley.
The movement behind him quickened. Taeyang's hips pushed back to meet it, all on their own. Deeper. The dull, heavy tolling in his belly grew and grew.
"Nnngh—"
A choked sound rang from his throat. The man in front seized Taeyang's head in both hands and took him at his own pace. Taeyang didn't fight it. His right hand tightened.
All three places were burning at once.
It hit from behind first. The depths of his belly quivered, and his whole body locked rigid. The spasm traveled all the way to his mouth. A sound spilled out. His right hand clamped down.
The man in front finished — inside Taeyang's mouth. Something hot and bitter slid down his throat.
The man on the right finished too — across his chest, something sticky and hot running between his fingers.
The man behind finished as well — deep, deep inside.
All three were done.
Strength gone, Taeyang crumpled onto the alley floor. His legs had given out. His arms were dead weight. His whole body was still shuddering.
The men looked down at him.
And — Taeyang reached up with a trembling hand. A wordless plea for more.
They entered him again, one after another.
No one hurried. They simply — used Taeyang, lying there on the ground. When one finished, the next took his place. Taeyang took it flat on his back, giving nothing, doing nothing. Just lying there.
Stimulation piled upon stimulation.
The moment the third man finished, Taeyang's body convulsed yet again — an orgasm nobody paid any attention to. He simply went over the edge alone and came apart alone, something hot and slick running down the insides of his thighs.
The men tucked themselves in and got to their feet.
One of them looked down at Taeyang and snickered.
"You're a real filthy bitch, you know that?"
He flicked a finger against the inside of Taeyang's thigh.
"Look at this. Still leaking."
Laughter echoed through the alley. The three men left Taeyang lying there and walked out.
Their footsteps faded into the distance.
Taeyang stayed exactly where he was on the ground. His whole body was glazed with semen — what remained pooled in his mouth, what clung stickily to his palm, what trickled from his thighs down onto the pavement.
His fingers slid slowly down. Pushed inside.
"Ahh—"
His still-hypersensitive insides clenched around his fingers as they stirred, clinging and releasing with a wet, sucking sound.
Then he stopped, just like that.
He simply — felt. The warmth left pooled inside him. The weight of everything mingled there. The faint, ceaseless trembling.
It was ecstasy without end.
Taeyang didn't resist anymore.
This body was truly his own now. Waking in the morning and meeting himself in the mirror felt strange no longer — if anything, it felt beautiful. Choosing the lewdest clothes he could find. Going without panties. He even prayed for it — please, let me live like this for the rest of my life.
Night. Taeyang lay in bed, and his hand moved. The throbbing. The heavy weight of a breast settling into his palm. The way his insides answered, damp and soft.
It was wonderful. Genuinely.
He didn't think he could live without this body anymore.
It was the very instant that thought took shape—
Something changed, all at once.
The sensation at his fingertips — vanished.
Taeyang stopped. Touched again. But there was nothing there. What had been throbbing. What had been growing wet. All of it.
His body had changed.
Taeyang scrambled up and stood in front of the mirror.
Taeyang's original body looked back at him.
Broad shoulders. A waist straight as a plank. His chest was flat. That beautiful sweep of the hips — gone.
Everything that had been his for a month. All of it.
Taeyang's hands went to where his full breasts had been. There was nothing now. Where the curve of his hips had been. The insides of his thighs. Below his belly.
He could feel nothing at all.
Taeyang's knees buckled. He sank to the floor.
Hollow. Just — empty.
And then — a sound came out of him.
A scream. It rose from the deepest part of his belly. A whole month of moaning that loudly — and he had never once made a sound like this. It was the sound of something gone forever, welling up out of the place it left behind.
The scream filled the room.
The Taeyang in the mirror — crumpled.
Jaewon closed his notebook with a look of satisfaction.
Exactly as predicted.
Evil had been punished.