Don't Trust Your Sister
“Ung! Cum in my mouth♡”
Byuuu────♡
Thick, creamy white semen erupted powerfully from the tip of my urethra, splattering onto my sister's heated red tongue.
It piled up like rich dressing on her warm tongue. Byurrruk────♡
A euphoric spark popped in my brain. The guilt and taboo thrill of dumping my load on my sister's tongue stained my chest black.
And the pleasure born from that sin was beyond imagination.
Burrr!
She looked up at me with crescent-moon eyes, smiling faintly as if she knew everything—like she'd peered right into my mind.
In that moment, something flashed in my head.
If you give in to the pleasure, you'll die.
It hit like the most critical reminder for my current self. 'Don't get tamed by the pleasure my sister gives me, or else?' But why death?
Chuuup!♡
Just then, as if to snap me out of my thoughts, she sucked up the semen dripping from my glans.
Uwum uwum♡
She sealed her tiny mouth tight, not letting a single drop escape, and worked it diligently.
Like a gourmet savoring fine cuisine, she rolled the semen around on her tongue.
She pressed it against the roof of her mouth—Chuuup..♡—sucking in a bit of air, inhaling the semen-scented breath through her nose to savor the aroma.
“Huum..♡”
Jalk-jalk♡
Her long lashes trembled—what was so delicious?—as she finally started chewing the semen.
And then
Gulp—♡
Gulp♡
It was enough to puff out her cheeks, so she swallowed it in portions.
“Pfhaaa♡ Delicious thick morning-first semen, all gone♡”
With that greeting, she hooked her finger in her mouth, pulling it open to show me her tongue wriggling around, proving she'd swallowed every last bit.
“It was super chewy and springy♡ When I chewed it with my teeth, it squished right between them, pushing back so hard! Ehehe! You worked hard even in your sleep, Oppa? 10 out of 10!”
What did that score even mean?
This definitely wasn't a normal relationship.
“Thanks for keeping your promise, Oppa. It was yummy. Hehe. I'm off to work then?”
Work?
The clock showed only 6:30. And work...? Last night she said she was 'going to school.'
Was she an adult, not a student?
Everything was a jumbled mess.
Our daily life with my sister was undeniably twisted into something grotesque.
But I forced a smile. The moment I disrupted this warped routine, I sensed something terrible might happen.
“Y-yeah, be safe.”
“Tch... Hug me!”
I got out of bed without even pulling up my pants and hugged her.
Kook♡
She clung to my back with all her strength, pressing tight without a single gap.
“Haaa..♡ I wanna say 'see you later' with a kiss, but I'll hold back. Haven't brushed after drinking your semen...”
A pouty face.
Unconsciously, I gently cradled the back of her head, burying her deeper into my chest and stroking her hair.
All of it happened without my will, like a code embedded in my body had activated: 'In this situation, act like this.' Had this been repeating in some forgotten past?
“Fuhi! Oppa power charged! I'm off then?”
“Yeah.”
Tak.
The door clicked shut, and the vibrant colors in my vision faded to dull gray. The pink tint from being close to her vanished, revealing a normal guy's monochrome room.
Soon, a faint thunk echoed as the front door closed downstairs.
Time to move.
“Alright, let's search.”
I hiked up my pants and rummaged through the room: under the desk, drawers, bed frame underside, between frame and mattress.
“Hoo...”
Hoping for a note from my past self, but...
Nothing.
Only the bookshelf left.
I wasn't much of a reader—why so many books?
As I approached, something felt off.
“What the...?”
Books. Or what looked like books.
But they were all prop dummies. Fake books no normal home would have.
The covers twisted in illegible, grotesque letters. Unreadable, hollow inside.
Like something out of a nightmare. Chill.
Dizziness hit; I gripped the shelf to steady myself. My weight shook it.
Clatter.
“Huh?”
Clatter-clatter-
Shaking it gently produced the sound each time—like something hard rolling inside an empty space.
I shook it more, pinpointed the source, and pulled out the offending dummy book.
“This is...!”
The stiff prop opened to reveal a spherical smartphone inside.
I powered it on hurriedly; the screen lit up.
No connection, but battery was fine. Worried about a lock screen, but none.
Black wallpaper, memo app on home screen.
“Crazy...”
Why repeat it like that? Past me desperately memorizing the one truth I couldn't forget.
And I failed, clearly. No memory of writing it.
Scrolled to the next.
As the note said, no time for details—full of typos—but the intent was clear.
“Go to sister's room, huh...”
Just thinking of sneaking in made alarms blare in my head. Like shoving my head into a predator's jaws.
But I had to.
I grabbed the phone and stepped out.
Two-story house, upscale hallway with polished wood floors—cool and firm underfoot.
My room right; hers opposite. First, a phone. Even if cops wouldn't believe this, asking for help was worlds apart from nothing.
Searched the house for a landline—found it dangling, cord cut.
“Damn...”
They went this far. Remaining spots: parents' bedroom and sister's room. But parents' room? Instinct screamed no—chills down my spine at the thought.
I trusted my gut. Only myself now.
Running? Past me tried and failed—woke in August, memo from July 15th. I'd have tried escaping. Caught and dragged back, probably. Phone blocked too.
Sister's room it was. Back upstairs.
Kiiik-
No lock.
Makes sense—no one locks their own bedroom door before leaving.
Kiiigiik...
Unlike the house, the hinges screeched—unlubed or long-sealed?
Pfshh-!
Dust billowed as I entered fully.
Untouched for ages, as expected.
“Why so dark...?”
Monsoon season, but summer morning—should have faint light. Pitch black.
Same layout as mine; window should be there—covered in layered paper, taped tight. Only dim gray seeped through heavy clouds.
Click-click-
Light switch dead—bulb removed?
Phone flashlight saved me.
Curious what hid in the dark, I turned it on.
And...
Oso-so!
Goosebumps raced from arms to nape, hairs standing on end.
Photos.
Photos.
Photos.
Hundreds plastered wall-to-wall, no wallpaper visible.
Snapshots from afar, like a kid's growth album, pinned everywhere.
And the last: my current face.
So I was 24.
“Not some high schooler after all.”
My hunch about graduating was right.
I wanted out of this creepy space but held firm. I'd sensed her madness vaguely already.
Confirming it visually wasn't new intel.
More urgent: Why was I trapped here, amnesiac? Why sexually exploited by this fake sister?
Dr-ruck-
Drawers reeked musty.
“Urk..!”
Contents hit like vomit: my worn panties, socks, shirts—sorted like collections. Even used tissues, chopsticks I'd touched...
A serial killer's trophy room.
Stomach churned. No man, horny or not, would enjoy this firsthand. Beyond affection—filthy, nauseating.
Now I got it: Succumb to her pleasure, and die. Sustained sex with this psycho? Insane. She knew my male weaknesses; her service was ecstasy. But if it broke? She'd mind-break me, chop limbs, keep me as eternal pet.
Run. Flee this madhouse now.
“Kuh...”
Hold. Must hold.
Instinct. Past me saw this too—memo sent me here. Same thoughts then. Yet didn't flee. Reason why.
Trembling hands grabbed something on her desk.
Small padlock—unopenable. But clear:
Kang Jia.
“That's your name, huh.”
Definitely not blood-related. Yu for me, Kang for her. At best, stepsister.
Head spun. Labyrinthine trap, lost, forgetting entry. All keys with her.
“Ah!” Thought veered.
Parents know something? Family, right?
“...Family...?”
Kkijik!
“Guhhh!”
Skull-splitting pain.
Family? I have none. Orphan from a youth shelter.
No late reunion—parents dead for sure. Don't recall how/when, but fragmented grief flashes in my shattered mind.
Then what's this house? Who are they?
Why play parents? Why ignore 24-year-old 'son' heading to 'school' at 1 AM, snout-deep in mystery red flesh, emotionlessly saying 'drive safe'?
Everything crumbled.
“Hahk... Hahk...! Heuk...!”
Hyperventilating. Stars spun; vision tunneled dark.
Nightmare. Endless dream-in-dream. Sleep paralysis.
Amnesiac, parents faked, eternal toy for psycho stalker. Pinch cheek hard—wake up?
But escapism faded quick.
Kiiiiiiiiik...........
“Oppa... what... are... you... doing...?”