Nabi's Reality Denial
"Ahnn!! Th-that... don't look... don't look at it... no!!!"
The moment I pointed out the silver cotton panties nestled between her ass cheeks—soaked through and darkened to a deep, murky gray—Nabi flinched like she'd been struck by lightning.
She was so mortified, so utterly humiliated, that she screamed at me not to look.
But I didn't want to look away.
Why the hell would I look away from the delicious prey right in front of me? From that delicious vulgarity?
This filthy little freak who used to drip cunt juice all over a glass dildo on her own Sect account, ramming it into her hole. This dog of a pervert who still soaks her panties even after getting beaten.
The thought made a flicker of irritation rise in my chest.
Slap!
"Aghghghk!!!"
I brought my palm down hard across Nabi's ass again—no mercy for the girl still talking back. I put a little feeling into it this time. The crack of flesh rang out like a slap across the face, and her ass rippled under the blow.
Fresh pain slammed into those already-reddened cheeks, and Nabi twisted her hips and her panties into a desperate knot. Her scream rang out for a moment—but it was enough to smother that defiant tone and attitude of hers.
"Don't look, you said?"
"Please no... stop already... please...! Don't look... hhk... hhhhk...!!"
She sobbed and begged me not to look at her ugly, shameful state.
It was like a scene straight out of an erotic novel. The corrupted heroine, broken in through training, reduced to pleading with the villain not to look at her—even as her body betrays her with heat she never asked for. A cliché as common as they come.
But clichés don't become clichés for nothing. They're that good—that's why they spread, why they get used over and over again.
So that was why. Looking at Nabi crying and begging in front of me, I finally understood why she felt exactly like one of those heroines—caught, violated, broken in.
The psychology of those heroines usually comes from a hollow little hope: if I beg hard enough, maybe he'll let me go. Nabi, who'd soaked her own panties dripping cunt juice right in front of me, was no different. The desperate, pathetic fantasy that if she begged hard enough and pitiful enough, maybe this man would set her free.
But that thinking was rotten from the start. The more she begged like that, the more she wanted to be turned into a jotjip. With someone like me, the more she resisted, the more she begged for forgiveness—the more it only fed the urge to torment her further.
Slap!
"Aghghghghk!!!"
As if it were nothing at all by now, I brought my palm down viciously across Nabi's ass again. That same bursting crack of flesh. And Nabi, wracked with the same pain over and over, now twisted her entire body into a desperate coil.
"Don't look, you said?"
I threw the same question at her again. Not really a question—more of a snarl.
"Augh... please... please don't look...! Just this far... please... no more...!"
Nabi begged me again. And the more she did, the more the hunger to conquer her kept welling up inside me.
"Why? You got your cunt wet from getting hit. Didn't you?"
I shoved the reality back in her face—this girl dripping cunt juice from a beating.
"N-no... this isn't... it's not...!"
She couldn't bring herself to believe it—that her cunt had gotten so wet it soaked her panties through—and so she denied it outright.
Nabi, who'd invited a Blow follower into her own home without even realizing it, had her hands forcibly bound, her pants stripped off, and her bare ass spanked without mercy. On top of that, she'd soaked her silver cotton panties dripping cunt juice while getting hit. The reality of it all must have been pure horror to her. An unbelievable reality—and the only thing she could do was deny it. She wasn't even in a position to fight back.
"Not what? This cunt."
I tossed the words out casually and dragged my fingers across the silver cotton panties—pickled in cunt juice, darkened to a deep gray.
"Auuuunn!!!"
The moment my fingers swept up over the wet crotch of her panties, Nabi jolted like she'd been shocked, her whole body twitching.
"You soaked your panties this wet and you're still saying no?"
I kept forcing the reality on her. No matter how hard Nabi denied it, the truth was that she was being broken in by me—her body in heat, cunt juice dripping out of her. If those panties hadn't gone that obvious dark gray, I might have still been wondering whether my training was actually working. But Nabi had helpfully put it on full display for me herself. So I could break her in with even more confidence.
"If you soaked them this bad, you pissed yourself. You worthless cunt who drips juice just from getting hit."
"Ahn... no... no, it's not...! Hhk... n-no...!!"
I degraded her with the claim that she'd wet herself, but Nabi just sobbed and kept denying reality. A reality she couldn't accept. But for me, it was a reality so thrilling it made my blood sing. The buildup of her training was progressing so steadily, so smoothly—I could feel the certainty of it. I was happy.
I'm taking Nabi. I'm fucking claiming her!!
I wanted to scream it from the rooftops. But I needed to stay calm. It wasn't over yet. The training still had to continue.
"Hah... this bitch just keeps denying reality."
Slap!
"Hieuuuuk!!!"
This time I swung my palm upward from below—not at her ass cheek, but straight across the wet crotch of her panties, without hesitation. The soaked fabric added a wet smack to the spank, and the sound came out especially sharp and satisfying. The panties would have dulled some of the pain, but Nabi still twitched harder from getting her cunt spanked than she had from the ass-slaps. The wet crack of a cunt-spank mixed with her scream of pain, and a delicious shiver ran through my body.
"A bitch who keeps getting her ass beat until her panties go this dark gray from all the cunt juice she dumps out."
Smack!
"Hiiiit!!"
"And you're saying no?"
Smack!
"Hiit!!!"
"You're saying you didn't get so turned on from getting hit that you dripped cunt juice everywhere?"
Smack!
"Higik!!"
"There's a limit to denying reality, you pervert. Running that trashy Sect of yours."
Smack!
"Hiik!!!"
"A bitch who posts videos of herself ramming her own cunt like she's got a steel plate for a face."
Smack!
"Hiiiiik!!"
"And you still won't admit you got wet from getting hit?"
Smack!
"Hieiiiiik!!!"
I kept spanking her deliberately light—just nasty enough to be unpleasant, just enough to keep stimulating her cunt. Light upward smacks with my whole palm, degrading her cunt with every hit, and Nabi kept spitting out startled little moans one after another. The more I hit her, the more vulgar those moans became.
"Huuuk... huuk... hk...!!"
When the spanking stopped, Nabi started sobbing again. Still denying reality, was she? She kept handing me fresh justification to keep training her.
"I... I..."
Nabi forced the words out with difficulty. She seemed to have something to say.
Smack!
"Hiik!!!"
I deliberately cut her off with a light palm-spank right across her cunt.
"What is it, you pervert? You've got something to say?"
"Huuk... hk.... huuuk...!"
"A bitch who got caught doing Sect should just shut up and take her training. You living onahole."
"Augh...! Huuk....!! Huuk....!"
Nabi couldn't manage a proper answer to my insults—she just kept sobbing. And then I started to notice the sensation in my hand that I'd been ignoring while focused on the spanking. The cunt juice that had been coming off with every cunt-spank was clinging sticky to my palm. Juice thick enough to coat my hand like that meant she was soaked enough that I wouldn't even need lube. Not just the ass-spanking—the continuous cunt-spanking had made even more juice leak out of her. I hadn't expected this much.
It was about time to start using the toy.
The thing I'd taken from Nabi just a moment ago floated back into my mind. The glass dildo. The exact same glass dildo she'd used in the last Sect video of hers I'd watched on Blow the other day. I'd never imagined that the provocative masturbation video she'd posted—practically begging someone to fuck her—would become reality. And if even I hadn't expected it, Nabi must have expected it even less. This situation might have been a living nightmare for her.
Well... that would change once the training was done and I'd turned her into a jotjip who went crazy for my cock.
But first, there was something I needed to do before I shoved that glass dildo into her trashy little cunt.
"Huuk... hk.... huuuk...!"
I turned my gaze to Nabi's face as she kept sobbing. Her eyes were squeezed shut in despair—but her expression looked lewd, almost like her body was already in heat. The flush in her cheeks seemed even redder than before.
"A pervert like you doesn't deserve mercy."
Not that I had any intention of showing her any. That was a lie. I tossed the line out casually, just to degrade her further.
I moved the hand that had been stroking and humiliating her cunt up to the deep groove of her erector muscles, traced the line of it downward, and caught the elastic waistband of her silver cotton panties.
"Hiik!! N-no... no!!!!"
Nabi wailed in a voice drowned in despair and terror. But I paid it no mind, and slowly dragged the waistband down.
"Hiiiiik!!"
Nabi recoiled in pure horror. I ignored her and kept easing the panties down—and a spectacular sight unfolded as her cunt juice clung sticky to the fabric, stretching out in long, spiderweb strands.