The Stepmother's Forbidden Thirst
A woman's chastity was more precious than her life. Once she took a husband, she must serve him for the rest of her days. Rather than fall into another man's arms, she should choose death. That was the creed of womanhood she'd been taught since childhood, and she'd always believed it was right to live by it.
But in this moment, she realized too late the truth. A woman's chastity... suppressing her desires... it was far more agonizing than she'd ever imagined.
"Hngh... hah..."
In the pitch-black night, deep within the annex where only one man was permitted entry, she—Lee So-young, the young madam of the prime minister's house—sat alone in the corner of her room. Her clothes disheveled, she frantically worked her fingers without restraint.
"Khngh... hngh... ngh!!"
Moans leaked from between her tightly clenched red lips. Beads of sweat dotted her exquisitely beautiful face, and shame flushed her cheeks crimson. This was wrong. As a chaste wife with a husband, such filthy acts were unforgivable. She'd been taught as much, and she knew it was right.
Yet even knowing this, Lee So-young couldn't stop her relentless fingers. At the tip of her most precious place, each stroke ignited the long-suppressed lust into an ever fiercer blaze.
As a result, her lewd entrance began spewing obscene fluids. Hot, sticky nectar dripped down her fingers, and with it, a single bolt of intense ecstasy pierced her mind.
"Hnght! Hnngh!!"
She clamped her free hand over her mouth to stifle the sounds. But sticky saliva oozed between her fingers, and the hole below erupted even more passionately. Then came the heavy wave of exhaustion sweeping through her body. Feeling her limbs go limp, both hands fell limply to the floor.
"Haa... haa..."
Hot breaths heaved raggedly. She slowly lifted her gaze to the fingers that had just ravaged her depths. They glistened thickly with viscous fluid. But instead of disgust, a sharper hunger bloomed on her face.
Thirst. A thirst that no amount of water—or furious fingering—could quench. A burning sensation she couldn't conquer alone.
Yet despite this craving, she had no way to sate it now, nor should she. Today, too, she'd succumbed to desire and done this filthy thing. But she was still the lady of the house. A body sworn to one husband alone. The one who must manage the household in place of her bedridden spouse.
Knowing this, she ignored her body's cries and straightened her robe. Anxiety gnawed at her amid the growing temptation. She wished desperately for her husband to rise from his sickbed soon and embrace her.
Then...
"Kekeke..."
"! Wh-who's there?!"
A chilling laugh shattered the silence. Startled, she whipped her gaze toward the sound. It came from the wardrobe in the corner of her room, where she kept her clothes. The doors creaked open slowly.
And there emerged... a hulking brute with a pig-like, hideous face. She recognized him instantly.
"! Y-you... Dolsoe! H-how... how dare you be here?!"
"Kekeke... What a precious sight I've stumbled upon, madam. To think the lofty lady of the house indulges in such depravity every night."
Her voice trembled as she demanded answers, but Dolsoe only smirked wickedly. He stepped out from the wardrobe and lumbered toward her.
"Gasp!"
Even in the darkness, she saw it clearly as he fully emerged. Bathed in moonlight, his manhood—smeared with white semen, clearly spent once already—reared up like an angry serpent toward her.
"Y-you bastard... W-what do you think you're doing? G-get back right now!"
"Kekeke... Sorry, madam, but I can't obey that."
"Wh-what... ah!"
Like a wild boar, he shoved her roughly to the floor. Then he lunged, his brutish, foul-smelling body pinning her down.
"L-let go! If you don't release me, I'll scream!"
"Kekeke... Go ahead and try. This lowly one knows full well—no one's around the madam’s quarters at this hour. So you can enjoy yourself freely, right?"
"! Ngh..."
The fool's unexpected retort stunned her. Desperate to escape, she pressed on.
"Get... get back now! Do you think a lowly slave like you can be forgiven for this... mmpf?!"
Before she could finish, Dolsoe crushed his lips against hers. The fishy, nauseating sensation made her stomach churn.
"Gahk! Urk... ugh... cough! Cough!"
As their lips parted, she retched and hacked violently. A horrific sensation she never wanted to feel again.
Watching her writhe, Dolsoe crowed even more triumphantly.
"Don't be like that, madam. This lowly one just wants to comfort your lonely heart. Kekeke. And if you end up bearing my child? That'd be a blessing for you, wouldn't it?"
"Y-you... really...?"
No mere threat—his words dripped with sincerity. Seized by terror, she clamped her legs shut, but he gripped them tight and thrust his grotesque member forward, voice thick with lust.
"Huff... huff... kekeke... I can't hold back anymore, madam. Here I come!"
"! N-no... not that... anything but..."
She begged in a quavering voice, but it only twisted his smile deeper, fueling his excitement.
"Kekeke... Just wait a moment. I'll make you feel good now."
With that, he slowly pressed his semen-smeared shaft toward her entrance. Watching it approach her sacred place, her face drained of color.
No... no... no...
An overwhelming terror she'd never known engulfed her. Trembling uncontrollably in this nightmare...
Yet why? Amid this crushing fear, her core burned hot. As if craving this very moment. As if drooling madly for the monstrous thing advancing on her.
In this contradictory, bewildering sensation, Lee So-young squeezed her eyes shut. Rejecting it. Yet yearning for it. Feeling the foul fruit of desire invade her...
"Gaaahhh!!"
"?!"
A sharp scream pierced the air—laced with tearing agony. With it, the horrific violation vanished in an instant.
! Wh-what...?
Snapping to her senses, she stared ahead. Dolsoe, who moments ago had been about to ravage her, lay bleeding on the floor. Beside him stood a young man clutching a bloodied sword.
She knew him well: Han Taeyang, eldest son of Lord Han Sook-beon. Twenty years old this year—two years her junior—but by hierarchy, her "son."
Watching the man who'd saved her from peril, an indescribable feeling stirred in her heart.
"Are you alright, Mother?"
"Uh...? Ah... y-yes... I-I'm... fine...!"
Relief drowned her recent terror. But it was fleeting—shame soon flooded her anew.
Her robe half-torn, exposing her breasts. Her still-dripping core laid bare. Realizing she'd shown this near-naked body to the man before her, her face blazed as she snatched the blanket from the floor to cover herself.
"I-I'm so sorry... you've seen something unseemly..."
"It's fine, Mother. This is just between parent and child, isn't it? Don't worry about it."
"R-really...? Y-yeah... right... of course..."
Han Taeyang spoke in perfect calm. True, a mother and son should share no secrets. Though her bond with this boy was far from ordinary.
But... why?
A strange pang hit her—like disappointment.
What... is this...?
A feeling she couldn't grasp, shouldn't grasp, laced with unease. Whatever it was, she averted her eyes from Han Taeyang. Unaware her cheeks still burned red.
Meanwhile, watching her, the "son" who'd saved his stepmother...
Han Taeyang smirked coldly where she couldn't see. Reveling in a truth only he knew.
Seasoning complete. All that's left is to fire up the grill.