Calling Him Father
I was already halfway resigned to it. I'd impulsively helped her out and brought her family home, but the money was spent. Now, the only thread connecting Hyun-ah's family to me was a mere debtor relationship. We didn't go to the same school, and we weren't neighbors. For now, there were excuses like "Hyun-ah's still attending slave academy" or "her mother's treatment isn't finished yet." But once that brief grace period ended, Hyun-ah would inevitably become my slave to repay the debt she'd incurred. We couldn't keep drifting in this half-baked limbo forever. I'd thought that much through.
I hadn't planned on never embracing her for life. I'd even fantasized about becoming family. The age gap between Hyun-ah and me wasn't that wide, but I wanted to protect her. She was heartbreaking, like a kitten huddled in a rain-soaked box on a stormy day—something I couldn't bear to watch with open eyes. Deep down, I might have yearned a little to become a father figure. Greeting Hee-ah when she came home from school, welcoming Hyun-ah—it was a joy. I didn't think of my lifestyle as extravagant, but everything I offered felt like treasures from another world to Hyun-ah and Hee-ah. I wanted to give more, to watch over them.
"Will you get mad if I call you this, Father?"
But seeing Hyun-ah right in front of me now made my chest tighten with emotion.
"No, I like it. I really do..."
"Then I'll keep calling you that from now on. Father."
Hyun-ah drew closer, step by step. A pleasant fragrance wafted toward me.
"Why this, though?"
"Because I've always admired someone like you... Does that sound weird?"
She must have been lonely. Sure, she had a little sister and friends, but no one to truly empathize with her burdens. With only her frail mother as the adult left in her life, maybe she just craved someone to lean on. If that was it, I'd welcome it. There was no reason to refuse if it made Hyun-ah more at ease.
But watching her approach like this, it didn't feel like that was the only reason. I had no experience as a father or a daughter, so I couldn't say what the proper distance should be. Still, this was blatantly not normal. Her pink dress filled my vision. Through our clothes, her breasts pressed against me. The mood was turning dangerous.
"In the end, you'll make me a woman, won't you, Father?"
Hyun-ah smiled bashfully. But no matter how I thought about it, taking her right here and now didn't feel right. I hugged her just tight enough not to hurt.
"You're not my slave yet, and you're rushing things too much."
"I'm an adult too, you know? Taller than Mikoto-unnie... though my breasts are smaller."
She had a point. Hyun-ah was a full-fledged adult, old enough to choose her actions and face the consequences. The problem was me. I hadn't decided yet how to accept her.
"Just wait a little longer, Hyun-ah."
I stroked her hair. She wore a subtly conflicted expression at first, but soon leaned into my touch.
Class was over. Hyun-ah picked up her phone to check the texts she'd received.
Hyun-ah smiled faintly, realizing she had an unusual number of blonde friends like Noa.
Se-eun's street tteokbokki treats had been like rain in a drought for the always-hungry Hyun-ah. But things were different now. She was even starting to worry about her weight—something she'd never done before. It was a relief not to burden Se-eun anymore, but saddening that she'd have to rely on someone else instead.
"Hyun-ah, let's go!"
Noa tapped her desk loudly. As always, her outfit was scandalously revealing. Seeing Noa's bare skin made Hyun-ah's cheeks flush.
"Oh, no thanks. I appreciate it, but I have to talk with the teacher..."
"Huh, you're one of those too?"
There was still a month left in slave training, but reps from agencies and the slave market were already scouting prime merchandise. Being appraised wasn't pleasant. Beauty and talent were just commodities tied to money, and the level of volunteer pre-slaves was predictable. Small agencies started polite but soon unleashed brutal critiques on the academy's prospects.
'Everything's fine, but your breasts are small. No standout features.'
'A bit old... Yeah, late twenties is old. This isn't marriage.'
'Going for cool? You don't get it yet—talking skills and techniques don't come from just long black straight hair.'
'Women at your looks level are a dime a dozen.'
'Desperate? Tough circumstances? Shut up unless you wanna go back home now. Your owners don't care about sob stories, and no one's not desperate here.'
'Sorry to say this, but your pussy isn't worth that much.'
These were soul-crushing insults, but the trainees had no recourse. Any violence would tank even a high-value slave's price, and legal action was impossible for foreigners like them. And the reps weren't entirely wrong. Those who over-romanticized selling their bodies struggled as slaves. In a world where average young men bedded conglomerate heiresses, even pretty, charming women didn't command sky-high prices.
Still, a few hidden gems secured deals with reputable slave markets. Model students like them had private chats with teachers on crafting their concepts.
"Good thing. These losers looked so down, I thought you were too."
"I... got lucky."
Hyun-ah had cautiously approached reps herself, hearing harsh truths. She had marketability, decent looks, youth. "Average, no flair" was offset by her Korean heritage. But the sum she needed was absurd—just as Seongha had feared. No one would buy a slave for that much, no matter her efforts.
"Alright, see ya later. We won't have much time left like this, huh?"
Noa laughed heartily. Hyun-ah chuckled awkwardly in response.
Hyun-ah entered the small office. The teacher waited at a round table with two cups of tea.
"Come in, Hyun-ah."
"S-sorry! I kept you waiting too long."
"Not at all. I just brewed the tea."
The teacher smiled warmly.
"Did the concept you tried yesterday work?"
"Definitely... Calling him Father got a different reaction."
Father-daughter dynamic. Primal, fundamental. Incest was the ultimate taboo. Even without blood ties, violating a girl who called you "Father" carried inherent depravity. Hyun-ah's edge was familiarity. Japanese or Chinese claiming family felt unreal to Korean men. But her high school girl status and relatable name Hyun-ah made it perfect. It could stoke a man's control and obsession. Far better than a clumsy sexy gimmick.
"Really? That's great."
"B-but I'm worried. I kinda went all-in with the... physical approach, but he refused."
The pseudo-father-daughter setup was Hyun-ah's idea after studying fetishes and concepts. The teacher approved, but she lacked confidence.
"Looks solid to me. He was shaken, right?"
The teacher sipped her tea gently.
"Taboo turns to pleasure once crossed, but it takes time. As long as he doesn't feel bad about it."
"R-really?"
"Of course."
Hyun-ah sighed in relief.
"But do you need to seduce your owner so desperately?"
The teacher looked puzzled. Boosting value was normal, but Hyun-ah was overly fervent. Slaves worked to get picked, then to avoid discard. Whoever her master was, she didn't seem disposable.
Hyun-ah sipped her tea, then slowly confessed in a trembling voice.
"That man already gave me everything. Even if my sister got sold as a slave—or just died—we couldn't have afforded treatment."
Though she'd just swallowed liquid, her throat burned drier by the second.
"So I have to give my all."
Hyun-ah thought the tea the teacher brewed was too bitter.