The Narrow Door (9)
“Shh. If you make that much noise, Miss Shin So-hye will notice, you know?”
“Ugh…!”
Yu Ha-eun glared at her, needled by Yoon Seo-a’s shameless tone. Still, the last thing she wanted was to be found out, so she had no choice but to curl in on herself.
If Seo-a was telling the truth, she was supposed to still be asleep. But contrary to Ha-eun’s assumptions, Shin So-hye already knew everything—that Ha-eun had never fallen asleep at all, and that she had been thoroughly toyed with by Seo-a for quite some time.
Seo-a had even said she would do exactly this when her turn came, so there was no way So-hye could have remained ignorant.
Bzzzt.
“Hup!”
The phone resting on the round table suddenly vibrated, startling So-hye out of her thoughts with a little cry. When Yoon Seo-a’s name lit up the screen, she glanced toward where the other girl sat and saw her tapping her own phone against her shoulder in a casual little rhythm. So-hye hurriedly checked the incoming messages.
What Seo-a had sent were several video files. They had probably been one continuous recording at first, split only because of the file size. But something far more striking caught her eye before any of that could matter.
The thumbnail of the very first video. It showed Yoon Seo-a and Yu Ha-eun from the front—an angle that should have been completely impossible from where they sat at the round table.
So-hye looked over at Seo-a with a half-disbelieving stare. Seo-a only smiled sweetly and tapped out a few more keys on her phone.
“A gift…”
Shin So-hye swallowed hard and glanced around for no real reason. Hong Su-ryeon and Yeon Chae-rin had long since gone downstairs to the bathroom, and Ha-eun was still pretending to sleep, terrified of being caught awake.
“M-Miss Yoon Seo-a… would it be all right if I stepped out for a moment…?”
“Of course. Go ahead.”
Ha-eun, face still pressed to the table, was screaming inwardly for her not to leave—but So-hye had no talent for reading minds. She rose with hesitant little steps and left the round table behind.
Somewhere I can be alone…
As she descended the stairs, the perfect place came to her at once. She had carefully watched earlier when Ha-eun guided Hong Su-ryeon to the bathroom so she would be able to find it later without help; the path was easy to follow.
There were doors on either side of the short hallway, but only the bathroom one opened, so thankfully she did not get lost along the way.
She shut the door quickly, double-checked the lock, then sat on the closed toilet lid and stared at her phone with tense eyes. With trembling fingers she finally tapped the first video file.
Unlike the thumbnail, the opening ten seconds or so were nothing but rattling noise and a wildly swinging camera. In the middle of that chaos she caught a glimpse of Yoon Seo-a’s face; Seo-a glanced at the lens, smiled faintly, and turned away.
The frame widened, and there was Yu Ha-eun sitting properly at the table, watching the approaching Seo-a with a sullen expression.
Did she hide the camera in her handbag…?
If it had been out in the open, Ha-eun would never have failed to notice. The oddly low angle suggested it had been propped against the bed. That explained why the other two had only taken books while Seo-a alone had carried her bag. So-hye clicked her tongue at the thoroughness of it, yet she could not stop watching.
The early part of the video passed without incident. They were closer than the round table had been, but both girls kept their voices low so as not to disturb the others studying; the dialogue was hard to catch. Turning the volume up helped a little.
So this is how Miss Ha-eun speaks to Miss Yoon Seo-a…
Normally Ha-eun’s tone was soft and gentle, and even in front of Hong Su-ryeon and Yeon Chae-rin it barely changed. So-hye had assumed that was simply her nature. On the recording, though, Ha-eun’s face was twisted in a scowl as she snapped out curt replies.
Of course she could never speak to Seo-a the way she spoke to everyone else. They were still, at root, tormentor and victim. Lately the dynamic had shifted into something more like hostile acquaintances, but a person’s core did not change overnight.
She’s really going this far?
Even as the thought formed, the video continued steadily. Yoon Seo-a slid an arm around Ha-eun’s waist and began to caress her in slow, sly strokes. The table blocked the exact view of where and how her hand was moving, but given the height of the obstruction it had to be the upper waist—perhaps the stomach, or just beneath the chest. So-hye’s imagination bloomed as she stared, unblinking.
At first she had been watching from a distance; before she knew it her nose was nearly touching the screen. A flush had risen to her cheeks, and her breathing had grown faintly rough.
She was aroused by the sight of Ha-eun flinching under Seo-a’s hands—and she did not even realize it. She simply kept watching.
The hand that had been teasing around the waist climbed higher and began to knead Ha-eun’s chest. The fabric of her top wrinkled under the firm grip, and So-hye let out a soft, involuntary gasp.
The sheer boldness of Seo-a committing such acts right beside the rest of them, and the way Ha-eun twisted under those fingers—both were unbearably lewd.
“Hnn… Ah…!”
Every so often a sweet, stifled moan escaped Ha-eun and, at maximum volume, poured straight into So-hye’s ears. Those rare, plaintive sounds slowly heated her body.
Before long she looked little different from the Ha-eun on screen who was reciting sentences in a lewd voice while her chest was groped. Face scarlet, breathing hard, she stared fixedly at the tear-glazed face in the video.
Then, suddenly, she felt a wetness lower down. She brought a hand to her lower body. The skirt was fine, but when she pressed firmly she could feel the dampness of her underwear.
She knew perfectly well why. Timid and socially awkward she might be, but she was not ignorant—if anything, her knowledge in this area ran deeper than most. Being shy did not mean she lacked desire. She rarely acted on it, true, but she recognized the state she was in.
I’m… aroused…
The hand she had placed there to check did not leave. It stayed.
And the video kept going.
Under Yoon Seo-a’s fingers, Yu Ha-eun reached climax. She hunched forward, burying her mouth against her own arm to kill the sound, and was silently ravaged by pleasure. It did not happen only once. In the short span of a few recited sentences Seo-a’s hand never stopped, and Ha-eun was forced to take wave after wave of it. The desperate effort to stay quiet so the others would not hear was both pitiful and obscenely erotic.
“Miss Ha-eun… Miss Ha-eun…”
Watching, So-hye slowly stroked herself through her clothes. The stimulation that reached her was slight, yet what her eyes and ears were drinking in more than made up for it.
If those hands on her chest were mine… if the words whispered in her ear were coming from my own mouth… how wonderful that would be.
Half-lidded eyes fixed on the screen, she lost herself in the act—until a sudden, electric sensation shot through her entire body.
“Hnnngh…! Haaah…”
Helpless, plaintive breaths spilled from her again and again before she slumped weakly against the toilet. The climax, her first in a very long time, left her thoroughly drained.
Yet something still felt incomplete. A thirst, almost. Comforting herself was nowhere near enough. The act itself had been intense pleasure for her, but her mind was already demanding something far greater—something like what she had just watched. Something that would let her do the same.
There’s no way that could ever be possible…
She had neither Yoon Seo-a’s powerful background nor her captivating beauty. She was not bold, nor overflowing with self-love. By ordinary means, laying hands on Yu Ha-eun’s body was simply impossible.
“If Miss Shin So-hye wishes it, I will arrange the opportunity. So that you can do to her exactly what I do.”
Seo-a’s earlier words replayed themselves in her head of their own accord. So-hye sat dazed for a long while, then swayed upright. The afterglow had masked it, but her underwear felt even wetter than before.
She wanted to strip it off at once—it was that unpleasant—but doing so would only invite suspicious looks. She would have to wait until her turn for the bath.
Miss Ha-eun must be in the same state right now…
“Heh…”
The thought rose unbidden, and somehow a laugh slipped out. Anyone who saw it would have called it an ugly little smile, but mercifully the bathroom held no one but her. She sat there grinning for some time before suddenly realizing how long she had been gone. In a fluster she straightened her clothes, washed her hands, and hurried out.
To her relief, she had emerged before the two who had gone in to bathe first. She let out a quiet sigh and climbed the stairs with slightly unsteady steps.
“You’re late, Miss Shin So-hye.”
“Ah— y-yes…”
“How did you like my gift?”
Was it really all right to say something so loaded with Ha-eun right beside them? So-hye hemmed and hawed, stealing glances at the girl still slumped over the table, until Seo-a chuckled softly.
“She’s truly asleep this time. The drain on her stamina must have been considerable.”
“Ah… y-yes, I suppose so…?”
“So. I still haven’t heard your answer.”
“Ugh…”
At Seo-a’s words, So-hye’s face flushed scarlet and she dropped her gaze.
“I-it was good…”
“Was it? I’m glad to hear that. In that case, I have a small favor to ask next.”
“A f-favor…?”
“This.”
Yoon Seo-a held up a cube-shaped camera small enough to hide in one hand.
“When it’s bath time… I’ll leave it to you. We should be able to get an even better video that way.”
So-hye’s eyes widened. Slowly, she nodded.
The excitement that had not yet fully died began to stir again.