Choi Seo-ah 1
I quickly scanned her. Excessive dopamine flooding her system from the drugs. Her prefrontal cortex was firing on all cylinders right now. That hyperactivation lit up the reward pathways, reinforcing positive associations like nobody's business. Attention and focus cranked to eleven. Perfect setup for deploying neuro-linguistic programming (NLP), the psychotherapist's go-to for rewiring minds.
I hopped into the elevator without a second thought, punching the 8th floor button first—her floor. She glanced at me sharp as I did, then checked her phone. A flicker of relief crossed her face. To her amped-up senses, a stranger in the elevator screamed threat. But now? I'd planted a seed of sameness. Oh? He lives on my floor too? That little thought wormed into a corner of Choi Seo-ah's brain.
At the same time, I synced my breathing to hers on purpose. Three seconds in, two out—quick and shallow. Classic NLP pacing. Match the inhale-exhale rhythm, and you forge an unconscious bond. Some neuroscientists trash NLP as pseudoscience, but to me, it felt like hypnosis lite. Plenty of shrinks use it deliberately. With her focus razor-sharp, she latched onto my breath without knowing it.
"Air's kinda stale today, huh?" I matched her slouched shoulders as I spoke.
"Yeah," Choi Seo-ah shot me a sidelong glance. Decent clothes, handsome face—she looked mildly surprised. Truth is, good looks are NLP rocket fuel. Attractive faces trigger that subconscious rapport automatically.
"Hey." I flashed a light smile. Her eyes were on me. "Looking for a girl. Kim Min-ah. You know her?"
Choi Seo-ah's face twitched—micro-tension in the muscles. I clocked the fear signal firing from her amygdala.
"N-no... don't know her." Her gaze flicked down. In NLP, that's a classic eye-access cue for dipping into emotional memories.
I was stunned inside but kept my face neutral. "Weird. Feels like you do."
Her breath hitched, then sped up. I mirrored it seamlessly. This Choi Seo-ah had killed Kim Min-ah. Just like in T-16. Goosebumps prickled my skin.
"Why're you telling me about some stranger?" Suspicion edged her voice.
Time to shift from pacing to leading. The elevator dinged at 8, doors open, but she was trapped like a fly in a web, flailing.
"Hoo~" I let out a long exhale, deliberately slowing my breaths—deep and steady. Once synced unconsciously, one person's shift pulls the other along. Sure enough, hers eased to match. Her drug-heightened prefrontal cortex started following my lead blindly. Psychologically hooked.
Now, plant the unknown terror. Stoke her imagination until she drowns in her own fear.
"I pulled the CCTV from here. Guess what I saw?"
Color drained from her face. She crumpled mentally. Her dirty secret exposed.
"Wh-what do you want?"
I locked eyes, enunciating slow. "Choi. Seo-ah."
She looked ready to faint. No way she expected me to know her name. Shaking like she had malaria.
"P-po... police?" she whispered.
I shrugged—neither yes nor no. The less she knew about me, the bigger the terror, the easier the lead.
I nodded toward the open doors. "Wanna finish this at your place, Choi Seo-ah?"
She nodded, stumbling ahead. Skintight mini-skirt riding up, flashing ass cheek. Bare thighs stretched long and taut, no stockings—her plump cheeks jiggled with each step, dizzying. She had no clue her body was my personal fucktoy. Picturing that pierced asshole winking inside those cheeks got me hard instantly.
I lightly gripped her slender neck from behind.
"Eek!!" She yelped at the touch, collapsing right there. Goosebumps erupted on her neck. Terror owned her—she was seconds from pissing herself.
I whispered in her ear as she crumpled. "I know you killed Kim Min-ah. Our cute little drug dealer."
Her eyes bulged. I pressed a finger to my lips, hauling her up.
"H-how do you...?"
"A sweet girl like you, slinging dope? Tsk tsk. End times."
Her face went ghost-white. A weird thrill hit me, like solving a puzzle. Shell world hypothesis confirmed—reality cloned.
814. I followed her into her apartment. A 3-billion-won Gangnam pad, solo for a young girl? Plenty of reasons why. Spartan setup: monochrome furniture, minimalist decor. Thick blackout curtains screamed flipped day-night life.
"Wh-what do you want from me? P-po... police?"
First time deploying NLP on a civilian. Psychological domination, hypnosis adjacent. I strolled her place leisurely, taking it in.
"Hmm..." Delaying my answer would hammer her heart like a jackhammer. She watched me warily, eyes wide, breath ragged. I paced her breathing again.
"Don't tense up. Not here to hurt you."
She gulped—loud in the quiet living room. I plopped on the sofa, patted the spot next to me with my right hand.
"Sit."
She blinked blankly, then eased beside me. Her fear radiated. I gently gripped her shoulder.
"Kyaa!" She shrieked, trembling violently.
I patted her round shoulder soothingly. "Shh! Uncle's not gonna eat you."
I wagged my finger, shaking my head. Then, slow as molasses, I opened my mouth.
"Where'd you score the drugs?"
Under my mental grip, she spilled.
"Supplier sis lives in the building."
"Which unit? Who?"
"1514..."
Our place is 1515. 1514...?
"Nam Seohee's the supplier?"
"Oh... you know her?"
Pieces clicked. I'd suspected ex-wife Shin Serin was into drugs. Her frequent visits to Nam Seohee's? To get high.
"Fucking junkie bitches. Shit." The curse slipped out.
Country going to hell—propofol addicts flooding psych wards, prisons handing out dope like candy. Lawyers smuggling it in visits? Top-tier pros now.
She quaked at my rage. Oops. Mid-pace, that fury amplified her terror tenfold.
"Please... spare me... I was wrong."
"Relax. Said I won't kill you. Gotta make me say it twice?" Low, lazy tone.
She nodded frantically, head bowed.
Gulp gulp. Her throat bobbed nonstop. Breathing in sync with my rests.
Sofa-bound, I pondered uses for Choi Seo-ah. Nam Seohee: head dealer. Her: street seller. Ex Shin Serin tangled in? Revenge deck complete.
"I... really don't wanna die."
Then it hit. Her slender hand snaked to my crotch.
Riiip. Zipper down. She fished out my raging cock.
"What're you—?"
"I... suck at this, but... knew you were hard, uncle."
Warm hands kneaded it. Terror flipped her defense to sex. Fuck him, he won't kill me then. I wasn't a killer, but she pegged me as one.
Didn't plan this far, but... Popping cherries always spiked my count. Why stop her?
Hands stroking, tongue tip teased the glans.
"Why's it so big?" Tiny murmur.
Small lips pecked the head—smack smack.
I stroked her hair gently; she ramped up.
"Ahng!" Mouth wide, engulfed the head. Tongue piercing sent chills.
"What do you want right now?"
"Keep my secret... I'll give you my body."
Head counter: [0, 0, 0]. Knew her holes inside out from before. Fingertip grazed her armpit—her weak spot.
"Wanna be secret friends with uncle?"
"Love secret friends!"
"Tease. Just shove that pussy here."
"Yesss~ Heung~"
No blocking incoming pussy. She bounced up, bobbed her straight hair. Mini-skirt fluttered, flashing ass. Adidas tracksuit top off—cute black lace bra hugged her tits shyly. Skirt down, white panties too. Just the bra now.
She eyed me bashful. Sparkle—clit barbell piercing gleamed. Tiny silver bar on her most sensitive spot.
Old question bubbled up. "Virgin with a clit piercing?"
She ducked her head, flushed. "H-how'd you know I'm a virgin?"
"Obvious. Why pierce if you're saving it?"
"Sis said it'd feel amazing. Took courage... haven't tried it yet."
"Why stop undressing?"
Bra unhooked. Perky C-cups popped free, nipples hard. Killer body: heavy tits, slim waist, wide birthin' hips. Begging to breed.
Her gaze glued to my throbbing monster cock, face crimson.
"No bed?"
"Ah!" She nodded, headed to it. Small but firm ass cheeks wiggled.
On the bed, she clenched her thighs nervously. I stripped bare, mounted her. Kissed—her tongue invaded, piercing zapping unique tingles.
"Th-this feels good too, they said..."
"But... why's a junkie still a virgin?"
Biggest question since T-16. She bit her lower lip at mine.
