Conquest of the Mother-Daughter Trio - Hunting Dog, Watchdog, and Your Bitch♡
Jinwoo released his meditative pose and gazed down at her in silence. His eyes held no satisfaction or mockery—only the impassive judgment of a priest appraising a sacrifice. He rose slowly from his seat and stood before her. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he accepted the broken bow and arrow she offered with such deference.
He placed those tokens of defeat indifferently on the altar in the basement. The old Chiharu was now officially discarded.
Jinwoo stood before Chiharu once more. She remained with her head bowed, awaiting his next decree.
"Rise."
At his low command, Chiharu straightened her knees and stood. Jinwoo lifted her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. No trace of defiance lingered in her gaze—only the unfathomable depths of obedience, like a still lake of submission.
A satisfied smile curved his lips as he extended his hand. But it offered no gentle support or embrace. He circled behind her and seized the ponytail she had bound that morning with such resolve, gripping it roughly.
"Ngh...!"
Her head snapped back with a pain that felt like her scalp was tearing. The neatly tied hair had become a humiliating leash in his fist.
Yet something was different. This pain was unmistakably unlike the agony she had endured in the muddy water that afternoon. When the kappa's slimy, cold hand had clutched her hair, it brought revulsion and the terror of death—a chaotic, violent evil intent only on defiling and destroying her. Pure disorder.
But this grip was different. The pain was sharp, yet it carried unyielding will and perfect control. This was no chaos.
It was domination.
This pain was a constant brand, reminding her of whose she was. Strangely, beneath that absolute dominion, she felt not fear, but a twisted sense of security.
This is... my place. Right here, in his grasp. This is where I belong.
"Follow me. Lead me to your room."
With her hair still in his fist, Jinwoo began ascending the basement stairs. Chiharu staggered after him, pulled by the excruciating tug on her scalp.
At the top of the stairs, Koharu watched the scene unfold from the shadows, swallowing unconsciously. The first to emerge was her master's imposing back. In his hand, gripped like the scruff of a hunted beast, was her sister Chiharu's ponytail.
Her sister, clad in pristine white kyudo garb, looked almost sacred, like a shrine maiden in ritual—but the sight was profoundly profane. Head wrenched back, enduring the pain, she followed obediently in his wake. It was coercion incarnate, yet underpinned by unspoken consent—the perfect form of mastery.
Ah...♡
A blaze of hot jealousy ignited deep in Koharu's belly. That should be me. Being dragged by my hair in humiliation—it's a privilege for the chosen alone.
Yet alongside the envy rose a perverse pride. Her unyielding sister, finally kneeling before this irresistible power. It was irrefutable proof that her own choice had been right.
Sister will walk the same path now. Together, we'll be shrine maidens serving this great master.
Koharu's body heated with anticipation.
For Chiharu, each step was torment and pilgrimage alike. The pull on her scalp ceaselessly reminded her where she was being led—and by whom. The cold wooden floor pressed against her bare feet. As they passed the first-floor living room, she felt her sister's gaze from the sofa, but she couldn't turn her head.
Ascending to the second floor, every creak of the stairs echoed like her pride shattering. The force transmitted through her hair was absolute.
This is the yoke I can't escape.
Through this act, she was accepting her defeat with her entire body.
At last, they reached the door to her room—her former sanctuary, her final bastion. Jinwoo yanked her hair, pressing her face nearly to the wood.
"Open it."
With trembling hands, Chiharu grasped the knob and opened the door herself. It was no longer her room. Tonight, it would be the altar where she offered everything.
Jinwoo shoved her roughly inside by the hair and followed. The door clicked shut.
Click.
To Koharu, it signaled the dawn of a new era. To Chiharu, it was the guillotine blade severing her past forever.
Jinwoo shoved her roughly into the room by the hair. Chiharu lost her balance and collapsed onto the bed—the very pillow where she had once drowned in solitude, contemplation, and tears.
Before she could recover, he seized her hair again and hauled her upright.
"Look."
He nodded toward her desk—her sanctuary of reason and knowledge. There, rising like a ritual dagger from some black magic rite, stood a dildo molded in his exact likeness. Under the ordinary desk lamp's light, without the red glow, it looked even more blatant and obscene.
"With your own hands, strip away the armor of your will—that clothing you built layer by layer. Dismantle it all yourself, piece by piece."
His voice was calm, yet laced with irresistible gravity. Chiharu's hands moved as if no longer her own, slowly untying the sash of her black hakama. The pleated fabric slid to the floor with a whisper, baring her pale legs defenselessly.
Next came the white kosode. She undid the ties and let it slip from her shoulders, revealing her flushed upper body slick with faint sweat and tension. Through the thin bra fabric, her hardened nipples stood in sharp relief.
"All of it."
At his curt command, she shed even her last undergarments. Now, in the space where she had once been most rational, she knelt before him in her most primal form.
Jinwoo approached the desk and picked up the dildo. He thrust it before her eyes. Soft as human skin yet firm, veins meticulously replicated—it was no mere toy. It was the proxy of his power, the symbol of the new law to be etched into her body tonight.
He gripped her chin, forcing her head up.
"With that sharp tongue you once prided yourself on, with the mouth that defied me—accept my first 'purification'."
He pressed the tip to her lips. The cold silicone touch sent chills racing over her skin. Humiliation brought tears, but she didn't close her mouth. This is punishment. This is purification. This is the price I must pay.
As her lips parted, he thrust it inside without hesitation.
"Mmph...!"
Her mouth filled instantly with his proxy. Gags rose, but his hand clamped her jaw, preventing escape. He used her mouth as if it were his true cock—shallow at first, then plunging deep into her throat. Her tongue writhed helplessly beneath it.
Saliva and tears mingled, streaming down her cheeks. The sensation of her mouth reduced to a vessel for one man's desire, independent of her will. This was humiliation on another level from the Word Binding that had stolen her tongue—it denied her very existence.
Yet at the end of that degradation, a strange sensation bloomed. This irresistible power. This perfect dominion. Ordered conquest, unlike the kappa's chaotic violence. Her body accepted it before her mind.
Ah... this is... my purification...
Her thoughts blurred, scattering. She resisted no more. Instead, she moved her tongue in rhythm, welcoming his proxy. The last flicker of defiance in her eyes faded slowly, surely.
Jinwoo withdrew the dildo from her mouth. He tossed the saliva-slick toy carelessly to the floor and unzipped his pants.
"Now, taste the real thing."
He seized her ponytail roughly again and thrust his true cock between the lips that had just been violated by its likeness. The hot, living heat overwhelmed her senses, far beyond silicone.
Gripping her hair tighter, he pistoned his hips mercilessly.
"Mmmph...♡ Mmff...♡♡♡"
Her head jerked wildly with each thrust. Amid the storm of indistinguishable pleasure and pain, muffled moans escaped her throat. Choking gasps and wet slaps of flesh filled her once-pristine room.
"Hnnngh...♡♡ Mmph...!"
Each deep plunge stretched her throat to its limit, tears spilling with retches. But he didn't stop. He gripped harder, ravaging her mouth solely for his pleasure.
Her reason had long melted away. Her mind held only the iron fist in her hair and the scorching fullness in her mouth. Thought ceased; instinct remained. The pure animal urge to receive this man.
"Ah...♡ Ah...♡♡"
When he pulled out briefly to catch his breath, a pleading moan escaped her unbidden. She startled at her own voice, but her body craved more. Her lips glistened with his mark, her eyes unfocused in ecstasy.
"Good. Make those sounds."
Jinwoo smiled in satisfaction and filled her mouth again. Giving her no time to think, he drove toward climax. Clutching her hair fiercely, he buried himself to the deepest point where her throat's tender flesh yielded.
"Glrk...♡♡♡ Mmff...!"
Consciousness faded. Her mind burned white. She was no longer human—just a living hole for his pleasure. Then, deep in her throat, something hot and massive erupted.
"Hnnngh...!!!♡♡♡"
His thick, musky seed flooded her without mercy—overwhelming volume and heat. It wasn't mere fluid; it felt like the essence of his will, his dominion, absorbing through her fragile mucosa into her core.
This... this is my 'purification'...♡
Her final thought.
When he withdrew, she coughed violently, trying to expel it. But his cold hand sealed her mouth.
"Swallow. My first grace upon you."
Under his command, amid tears, humiliation, and a bizarre sense of duty, she gulped it all down. As the heat slid into her stomach, the last embers of resistance extinguished with a slick gulp.
Drained utterly, she collapsed face-down, gasping. His seed, her saliva, and tears streaked her cheeks. Jinwoo gazed down impassively and issued the next order.
"Now, undress me with your mouth."
Chiharu looked up with dazed eyes. Like a long-trained slave, she crawled to his feet and nuzzled his zipper with trembling lips. The metallic tang mingled with the scent of her recent violation, muddling her mind further. Clumsily, with teeth and tongue, she dragged it down.
Next, the belt. She gnawed desperately at the thick leather, unbuckling it. Her teeth ached, but even that pain felt like part of her service to him. At last, it gave, and his pants loosened.
Finally, his shirt. Kneeling before him, she worked from the bottom button, probing with lips and tongue, nipping gently to free each one. Her mouth and cheeks brushed his rock-hard abs, his body heat and faint sweat overwhelming her senses.
Button by button, she ascended—like a pilgrim revering a holy site, devout and desperate. When the last fell free, his torso was bare.
Her mouth was no longer the organ of defiance. It was now the most faithful tool for her master's pleasure alone.