You're Just a Bitch in Heat
Her hand would not stop. A voice of reason screamed inside her skull — You have to stop — but the fingers wrapped around the dildo had already slipped beyond her control.
It worked like a machine, driving the cold plastic rod into her and drawing it back out at a steady, relentless pace. A throbbing ache flared every time the torn flesh scraped against it, but even that pain was beginning to dull.
"Nnhhhh....."
On the screen, the woman's moans still filled the air. Squelch. Squelch. The wet friction echoing from inside her own body layered over that sound until the two became indistinguishable. A filthy, shameful noise. She squeezed her eyes shut, but she could not block out what reached her ears, and she could not stop the motion of her hand.
Schlick—!
How many times had she done this? Somewhere between the pain, the foreign pressure, and the sticky unpleasantness of her own fluids, a faint and alien sensation began to bloom. It was not simple pain. From deep in her belly — from somewhere near the place Lee Dongwoo had pierced through her earlier — a ticklish, spreading heat unfurled.
At first she thought she was imagining it. But the instant the dildo pushed deeper and dragged across a particular spot along her inner wall, her entire body jerked. A sharp, sweet jolt, nothing like pain. She caught her breath without meaning to.
"Nnhh… haah!"
What burst from her lips was not a groan of agony. It was a strange, startled cry — surprise and confusion tangled with the faintest thread of pleasure. What... is this? She had never felt anything like it when Lee Dongwoo had taken her.
Her hand grew bolder. No — her body moved first. Without thinking, she twisted her hips just enough to guide the dildo back across that same spot. The electric rush raced up her spine and bloomed behind her eyes.
"What is this… it… it feels… good…"
The words were honest. And that honesty was what destroyed her. In this nightmare, with this filthy toy, she was wringing pleasure from her own body. It was a more fundamental self-destruction than any humiliation she had suffered so far.
But her body was honest. Having tasted it once, it refused to let go, answering with even greater violence. It was no longer just the hand on the dildo. Her hips began to rock on their own — deeper, harder — begging for more.
The woman on the screen screamed as she climaxed. In that same instant, Yoo Jimin was seized by an impulse she could not hold back. With her own hand, she was devouring her own body, and she was feeling pleasure. Was this the result of the "studying" Lee Dongwoo had demanded of her?
She was crying, but feverish moans spilled from her mouth all the same. In the vicious war between the reason that told her to stop and the instinct that begged her to continue, her body chose the latter without a moment's hesitation.
It was the beginning of a twisted pleasure, blooming in the shackles of hell.
Then, abruptly, the footage of the woman sucking the dildo with such desperate passion cut out. Pitch-black darkness. In a single instant, the mechanical cries that had filled the room vanished, leaving only the wet sounds and her own ragged breathing.
In that brief pocket of silence, Yoo Jimin understood what she was doing. She was holding a dildo in her own hand, devouring her own body. The realization carved through her reason like a blade. But before the humiliation could even make her tremble, the screen lit up again. The next "textbook" had started playing on its own.
This video was different. It was not a blowjob. A woman lay on a bed, pushing a dildo into her own pussy with her own hand. The camera cut back and forth between her face and the toy sliding in and out of her. The woman on screen had her eyes closed, as if she were concentrating purely on her own pleasure and nothing else.
Yoo Jimin's hand faltered. But the moment the woman on screen slowly withdrew the dildo and then drove it in deep again, her own hand followed that motion as if it had no choice. Like a puppet on invisible strings, the rhythm of the dildo moving inside her body fell into lockstep with the screen.
Schlurp, schlick… schlick-schlick…
"Hah…! Nnhh…"
The wet sounds rang in her ears. When the woman on screen let out a shallow moan, a similar sound slipped from Yoo Jimin's lips. A grotesque communion. A nauseating sense of becoming one.
When the woman twisted her hips, she twisted hers too. When the dildo on screen struck the woman's cervix, she put her strength into it and shoved hers all the way in. The same place that had hurt so badly before. But now a sharp, glittering pleasure swallowed the pain whole.
"Ah, ahn…! Hyaaaahn!"
It felt like her brain was burning. Why? How? Why did this feel so good?! Irritation surged all the way to the top of her skull. She hated this pleasure — hated it with everything she had, for existing in a situation this horrific.
"Fuck, why does it feel good, why?!"
A scream laced with fury. But the sound was immediately buried under the moan that tore out of her next. The room was no longer filled with the woman on the screen. It was filling with Yoo Jimin's own raw, desperate cries. She howled, she cursed, and she devoured herself — like the woman on the screen. No. More desperately than that woman ever had.
Outside the hidden room, in the dark, Lee Dongwoo leaned against the wall with one eye closed. The eye that remained open was not an ordinary black. A faint, ominous red glow seeped from deep within the pupil. The Demon Eye, which saw through everything. The scene beyond the wall unfurled in his vision, down to the last detail.
The girl who had resisted at first, who had eventually picked up the dildo, who was now moaning as she fucked herself with her own hand. All of it was crystal clear.
His Demon Eye did more than simply see through walls. It could faintly detect biological signals — shifts in body temperature, heart rate. The weak heat rising from Yoo Jimin's body and her quickening pulse shimmered in his vision like a red haze.
"Well now."
A satisfied smile touched the corner of his mouth.
"You've been practicing so hard. Getting pretty worked up, are you?"
Soaking herself and masturbating, no less. At this rate, the effects of her "education" could be called outstanding. It was a better result than he had expected. Watching her rock her hips in search of her own pleasure delivered a flavor of conquest entirely different from forcing himself on her.
"In that case,"
He pushed off the wall. The red light of the Demon Eye faded and vanished, and his eyes returned to ordinary darkness.
"I think it's time I went in and checked just how hard you've been studying."
Without a flicker of hesitation, he turned the handle of the hidden room. The door opened with a dull, heavy sound.
"Nnh, ahn! Haaahn…!"
The room was drowning in Yoo Jimin's cries and the wet slap of friction. She was gripping the dildo in her own hand and desperately rolling her hips, matching the rhythm of the woman projected on the wall. Reason and shame had gone numb a long time ago.
Her vision was flashing white. The wave of climax was right in front of her — and that was the exact moment.
Click.
A cold metallic sound. At that alien noise, Yoo Jimin's body froze on instinct.
She turned her head slowly. There, in the doorway that had opened like a gate to hell, stood the silhouette of Lee Dongwoo.
"…!"
Time stopped. His gaze was locked on her exactly as she was — dildo buried in her pussy, legs spread, glistening with her own fluids. The single most humiliating instant of her life, caught in full.
Lee Dongwoo said nothing. He walked in slowly. Step. Step. Each footfall felt like it was closing around her heart. He stopped directly in front of her and looked down at the girl frozen in shock and shame.
There was no emotion in his eyes at all, and that made it worse. It was the look of a master inspecting a well-trained animal's little performance.
Panic seized her, and her grip on the dildo went slack without her meaning it to. Her hand, slick with her own fluids, slipped off the toy. The dildo, with nothing left to hold it, listed sideways with a wet little plop. Lodged in her pussy at a crooked, grotesque angle, it looked like some pathetic, ridiculous sculpture all on its own.
"Ah, no, th-this is…! I was just… practicing, like the t-textbook…!"
She scrambled to explain herself. But her tongue had tangled itself in panic and could not assemble a proper sentence. It was nothing but a string of meaningless words.
"Don't bother."
Lee Dongwoo cut her off, his voice ice-cold. He looked her over with the same indifferent expression he might have given a rock on the side of the road. There was no surprise in his gaze, and no anger. Only a frigid contempt.
His voice was as cold as a sheet of ice.
"I'm not going to hold that against you. You're an animal anyway."
Animal. That single word drove into her chest like a blade. Her actions were nothing more than a heat she could not control — not "practice," not "effort," nothing worthy of even being acknowledged.
"Instead,"
Lee Dongwoo stepped closer, slowly. The sound of his footsteps tightened around her heart.
"I think I'll check for myself just how hard that snout of yours has been studying."
He did not so much as glance at the dildo still crooked inside her. He caught her chin and forced her face up.
Their eyes met. In his, the cold composure of an examiner had settled into place, unmistakable now.