The Shepherd and His Lamb
"K-Kill... k-kill me, p-pleath..."
The other living woman was in no better shape.
A thick iron pipe was shoved so deep into her cunt that it seemed to reach just below her solar plexus, its long, rigid shape clearly protruding beneath her slender belly.
"K-Kill... p-pleath... k-kill..."
The woman repeatedly begged to be killed, her facial expressions warping erratically.
One moment she seemed to laugh, then cry; then she would smile above her nose while weeping below it, and then reverse the expression entirely.
Her pupils darted wildly, unable to focus on any single point.
The agony of her organs and lungs being impaled by the iron pipe had glitched her nervous system, leaving her completely unable to control her facial muscles.
"K-Kill... p-pleath... h-hurry... k-kill me..."
Her massive tits were swollen and bruised a dark, purplish-black from how violently they had been squeezed.
The mammary glands inside seemed completely ruptured; though they retained their heavy mass, they looked lumpy and uneven, like rotten avocados.
"Hic... h-hic..."
Min-a watched the woman, trembling violently as urine trickled down her legs.
Meanwhile, juices seeped in slow, steady drips from her swollen slit.
It wasn't out of sexual arousal. (Well, perhaps there was a tiny sliver of it.)
As some twisted sadist once said, women were "creatures born to be raped."
Whether witnessing passionate lovemaking, a brutal rape, or a woman having her cunt impaled by an iron pipe or a bamboo spear like Min-a,
a woman's snatch couldn't help but leak fluid naturally at the sight.
It was preparing to be penetrated.
Whether by a cock or an iron pipe.
Am I going to end up like that too?
Min-a thought.
But what Min-a failed to realize
was that very soon, she would actually find herself envying this woman.
A moment later,
"Ah, a new sister has arrived~"
A man dressed in a clean, sharp suit—completely out of place in this dilapidated, crumbling apartment—greeted Min-a.
"You must have been terribly frightened, yes?"
The man wore a benevolent smile across his face as he opened his arms wide to welcome her.
"I am Pastor Kang Tae-jun."
"P-Pastor... Pastor!!"
Perhaps eased by Pastor Kang's gentle smile, Min-a forgot the pain in her lacerated soles and rushed toward him.
"Save me! Hic... please, save me, Pastor!..."
Min-a clung to Pastor Kang, her massive tits bouncing as she made a desperate, frantic scene.
Blood rushed straight to Pastor Kang's crotch, making him rock-hard.
"Do not worry, sister. Just as Jesus Christ took in the pitiful lost lambs, I too shall take you in."
Pastor Kang wrapped his arms around Min-a, pulling her into an embrace.
"Thank you. Thank you, Pastor..."
Pastor Kang hugged Min-a shamelessly tight, pressing her heavy breasts flat against his chest.
He slipped one hand beneath her plump buttocks, grabbing her fleshy mound from below as if scooping it up.
Min-a's soft folds squished like slime inside Pastor Kang's tight grip.
As he squeezed her flesh as if juicing a piece of fruit, a milky-white discharge overflowed from between his fingers.
"Um... hic... my emergency contact is 010-XXXX-XXX... Oh-oohh?!?"
Because she was in a state of extreme panic, only her lower body registered the orgasm; her upper body remained oblivious, frantically clinging to Pastor Kang as she babbled on.
"If you could just... protect me for a moment... Oh-ggh?! First, let me find someone to vouch for my identity... Oh-hng?!"
While her mouth pleaded for survival, her lower mouth enjoyed an orgasm all on its own.
A thick, heavy wave of pleasure surged up from her loins.
Slowly, her expression morphed into one of pure sexual ecstasy, though Min-a's conscious mind remained entirely unaware of it.
"Oh-hng?! And... if you save me... Oh-ggh? I'll make a donation to the church..."
Min-a continued to ramble and plead.
All the while, her massive, soaking-wet rear twitched and swayed.
Her wide hips swayed coquettishly from side to side as if they were a separate entity from Min-a herself, copulating with Pastor Kang's hand on their own accord.
"Oh-ggh?! And... hic... later, I'll bring my friends who go to church... Oh-ggh?! I'll bring them too, so... please... please... Oh-hng?! Just save me. Pastor, please... Mmm-ggh?!"
A sharp, intense orgasm struck her spinal cord, making her entire body shudder.
Her back arched, and her plump slit squirted wetly, soaking Pastor Kang's clothes, but Min-a was too busy pleading to notice.
"Oh-hng?! Please... Pastor... Mmm-ggh?!"
Her brain had completely severed her rational mind from her lower body in a desperate bid for survival.
"P-Pleath... Nnn-ggghhh?!?"
Min-a arched her back to its absolute limit.
Like a piece of avant-garde performance art, her body bent backward in Pastor Kang's embrace until she was staring at the ceiling, her face completely melted by pleasure and collapsing into a vulgar, depraved ahegao expression.
With her back arched, her cunt pointed forward, squirting gushes of fluid directly toward Pastor Kang.
"P-Pathtor... p-pleath... I'm b-begging you...!"
Even in this state, Min-a continued her desperate begging.
She didn't even register that she was being sexually assaulted.
To her, it was merely a passing thought: That's weird. Why is my body suddenly not listening to me?
"This fucking bitch!"
"How dare you mark your territory on a man of God?!"
The homeless men rushed at Min-a in a rage.
"Oh-hng... P-Pathtor... those people... p-please...!"
Even as her hips twitched in the afterglow of her orgasm, Min-a clung to Pastor Kang's pant leg like a dog, desperate to survive.
"A lost lamb is bound to stray."
Pastor Kang brushed Min-a's watery fluids off his clothes with a couple of light pats, maintaining his benevolent smile.
"Th-Thank you... th-thank you, Pastor..."
"Do not weep so, sister. Haha, the Lord would grieve to see your tears."
"Hic... th-thank you..."
"To send us such a lamb on a beautiful day like this... this too must be the Lord's will."
Pastor Kang looked up at the sky, beaming.
"And..."
His smile vanished, his face hardening instantly.
"I happen to be very fond of lamb skewers."
"What...??? What...????"
Min-a was utterly bewildered by his sudden remark.
"You see, sheep are incredibly useful. Their meat is delicious, and their hide is quite valuable. Therefore, as a lamb of the Lord, sister..."
Pastor Kang grinned widely.
"I believe we must tenderize your 'meat' first."
He finished his sentence.
"What? Pastor... what do you mean by that?"
"Didn't you hear him, you dumb cunt... I mean, little lamb?"
"He's telling us to improve your market value!"
"Women are naturally stupid, but you seem exceptionally brainless."
"Well, she is a lamb. Women and sheep have about the same IQ anyway..."
"Isn't a sheep smarter, though?"
The men spat out verbal abuse, cracking their knuckles.
"Wait... Pastor!! Pastor!! Aaaah!"
Min-a frantically reached out, screaming for Pastor Kang, but—
"May the Lord forgive this foolish, ignorant lamb. Amen..."
Pastor Kang completely ignored her, muttering his prayer.
"Aaaah! Aaagh! It hurts! It hurts! Save me!!!"
What followed was a barrage of indiscriminate violence.
"Hold on! Someone is coming later, so avoid punching her in the stomach! We can't have her uterus getting ruined!"
Pastor Kang called out to the homeless men, as if suddenly remembering something.
"Yes, Pastor!"
The beating resumed.
They avoided her stomach.
Instead, they focused on her breasts, arms, and face, tenderizing them like meat, and they didn't forget to pummel her mound either.
"Aaargh! Aaagh!!!"
With every strike of the men's fists and boots, fresh bruises bloomed, and Min-a shrieked like a slaughtered pig.
"Save me!! Save me, Pastor!! Aaah!!!"
Leaving Min-a's screams behind,
"Just as Jael, the wife of Heber, struck down Sisera with a tent peg, we shall pin down this faithless lamb..."
Pastor Kang continued his prayer.
"Amen."
As he finished,
"Amen."
"Amen."
the other homeless men echoed.
Pastor Kang smiled at the homeless men.
He truly loved this work.
Like most of them, he hadn't started out as a pastor.
Born in the 1960s, he had spent his college years in the 1980s. Like his peers, he had joined the struggle under the banner of overthrowing the military dictatorship.
Of course, the "struggle" was merely a pretext; they were actually just indulging in wild, promiscuous club activities and getting drunk on a self-righteous high. But back then, they had viewed themselves as heroes.
However, he hadn't liked what came after their struggle ended in victory.
While his more successful friends wore assemblyman badges and the slightly less successful ones secured heads of public institutions, dividing the fruits of the revolution among themselves, all he got was a hollow title as the head of some obscure civic group.
For someone who fancied himself a grand figure, it was deeply unsatisfying.
Fortunately, being the head of a civic group wasn't a bad gig.
Siphoning off blind government subsidies was sweet, and raping college girls who were filled with cheap notions of justice—turning them into broken, compliant sluts in the name of the "revolutionary spirit"—was a pastime he thoroughly enjoyed.
Gaslighting his juniors, who were now mockingly referred to as the "youthful forty-somethings," and playing the big boss was also quite fun.
But watching his former comrades wear badges and dominate the news while he sat as the leader of some nobody civic group made his stomach turn with jealousy.
But that era ended in a flash.
The military regime returned.
The military junta, along with a new political force composed of young men and alternative-right factions, turned the entire country upside down under the logic of "a disease cannot be cured without cutting out the rotten flesh."
As the saying goes, "he who fights monsters becomes a monster." The newly established military regime was just as relentless and vicious as his college friends had been in the '80s.
His badge-wearing friends had their heads rolled, in more ways than one.
Fortunately, thanks to his relatively minor position as a civic group leader, he got off with only a few years in prison.
A relentless tax audit had merely caught him embezzling government subsidies to spend at hostess bars.
In such a brutal era, getting away with just that was a blessing in disguise.
Afterward, he followed the classic path for ex-convicts—becoming a pastor—and was now working to "reform" the criminals of this high-crime slum.
Of course, it was all just a front...
"'Fucking soldiers...'"
Bitter at the memories, Pastor Kang scowled.
It pained him deeply that society had failed to recognize his efforts to realize social justice.
He also regretted not raping more college girls back then.
But even this was a blessing in disguise.
"S-Save... s-thave me..."
Min-a, whose "market value improvement" was finally finished, pleaded weakly.
Her entire body was covered in cuts and bruises.
"Do not worry, sister."
Pastor Kang adjusted his expression once more and looked down at her.
"Before long, you will be praying to repent and be sent to the Lord's side."
There were no college girls left, but there was plenty of **Yeochuk**.
What a wonderful profession this was.