The Pig
A dark, cramped studio apartment.
The curtains were drawn so tight that even at midday the room stayed pitch-black, the only light a faint, wavering glow from the monitor.
“Ahh…! Haaang…!”
I sat propped against the headboard with my pants shoved down to my knees, staring hard at the screen.
Japanese AV.
Today, like every other day, it was Miyuki—the Japanese porn actress famous even in Korea.
Her face, sculpted through multiple rounds of plastic surgery, was unnaturally perfect. Large eyes, a high nose, full glossy lips. She looked like a doll, yet that artificial beauty only made her sex appeal hit harder.
And her body…
It was insane.
Those massive breasts, bigger than her face, rolled with a heavy weight every time they bounced. Below them, in stark contrast to the soft, overflowing flesh, her abs were carved into a sharp eleven-pack, and her waist was cinched to an extreme. Her long, smooth legs stole every eye the moment she spread them, drawing a perfect S-curve.
On the bed, sweat beading on her skin, she moaned like a purring cat and rolled her hips in a filthy rhythm.
“Ahh…! Harder…! Break me…!”
The male actor’s thick, long cock was slamming into her glistening pussy like a madman.
Plap— plap— plap—!
The wet slap of flesh filled the room. Her huge breasts heaved violently up and down, pink nipples standing hard. Every time that cock buried itself deep, her muscled abs trembled.
“I’m gonna cum…! My pussy’s gonna break…! Aaaaahhh!!”
He scooped her up and switched to a standing fuck. Miyuki hung in the air with her legs spread wide, arms locked around his neck, while he pounded her apple-shaped ass without mercy. Her overflowing breasts flattened and warped against his chest; her long legs clamped around his waist, the line of her thighs at its peak.
“Deeper…! Hit my womb…! Knock me up…!!”
The instant that filthy scene hit me, my lower body caught fire. Buried deep in the folds of my belly fat, my tiny cock—barely three finger-joints long even when hard—was pinched between thumb and forefinger.
Completely swallowed between thick gut and thighs, that pathetic thing was all I could grip with two fingers as I stroked it fast up and down.
Tap— tap— tap— tap—!
“Hng…! Haa… haa…!”
Miyuki’s eyes rolling back as she took that cock to the hilt, her sweat-slick abs spasming, those massive tits swinging without restraint—I drowned in every second of it. I sped up. My thin little cock leaked precum until my fingers slid slickly over it. Every time my belly jiggled the shaft sank deeper; every time my fingers dragged it free the tip scraped free and a sharp jolt of pleasure shot through me.
“Ugh…! Fuck…! Miyuki…! Take it…!”
I couldn’t hold it. Crude words spilled out as my hips jerked and I came.
Spurt— spurt—!
A thin stream of semen dribbled weakly between my fingers. The moment it was over, the half-hard cock shrank and vanished back into the fat. White streaks clung sticky to my belly and the insides of my thighs.
The emptiness that always followed that brief flash of pleasure felt heavier than usual.
“…Hoo.”
I wiped myself roughly with a tissue and pulled my pants up.
Gurgle—
My whole body was damp with sweat and drained of strength, yet somehow I was always starving after I jerked off. I needed ramen just to stay alive.
I grabbed my wallet and left the apartment.
On the walk to the convenience store, Miyuki’s moans and that lewd expression still burned clear in my head. Before long the familiar sign came into view. The automatic doors slid open and a blast of cold air-conditioning brushed my face.
Ding-ding.
“Welcome.”
The store was quiet. I walked the familiar path to the ramen shelf, picked up a spicy cup ramen, pulled a tuna-mayo triangle kimbap from the fridge, and grabbed an extra bottle of mayonnaise from the shelf near the register.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
While the clerk scanned the barcodes I stared blankly out at the night street. After paying I took a window seat, poured the hot water, and waited with the lid closed.
Slurp.
The soft noodles slid down my throat. The scalding broth burned my tongue; I didn’t care and kept moving the chopsticks.
Spicy cup ramen. Tuna-mayo triangle kimbap. Two extra swirls of mayonnaise. I tore the kimbap in half, dumped it into the ramen, and mixed everything together—that was my way. Anyone watching would probably call it stupid. Calories this, sodium that. It didn’t matter. My body had long since passed the stage where those things still counted.
I glanced at my reflection in the window. A sagging black T-shirt. A thick neck. Chin fat that folded the moment I lowered my head even a little. Belly spilling over the sides of the chair.
Forty-nine years old. One hundred seventy-eight centimeters. One hundred eight kilograms.
At least today I had washed my hair before coming out. I had even scraped a razor over my face. For me, that counted as getting ready to go outside.
“Hoo…”
A short breath fogged the glass. Inside the store a bright, cheerful song was playing—young men and women falling in love, chasing dreams, shouting that today was the brightest day of their lives.
I let out a dry little laugh without meaning to.
The brightest day of their lives, huh.
Had my life ever had a day like that? No matter how hard I dug through my memories, nothing came up.
From childhood I had always been behind. By high school my weight already topped a hundred kilos. I was fat. So I had no confidence. No one ever spoke to me first, so I naturally stopped speaking. My face stayed dark. I had every quality that made me the easiest target in class.
“Hey, pig.”
That was my name. I was called pig far more often than Kang Do-yoon.
When break time came the delinquents would toss a few thousand-won bills onto my desk.
“Go to the store and get bread.”
“Chocolate milk for me.”
“Hey, buy mine too. Keep the change if there’s any left.”
There was never any change left. If the prices went up even a little I had to make up the difference with my own money. Come back late and I got smacked in the back of the head. If the bread they wanted was sold out I got dragged to the bathroom.
Bread shuttle. Milk shuttle. Gym-clothes shuttle. Sometimes I even did their homework.
The worst of them all was Bae Si-yeon.
The school’s queen bee—long blonde hair, pale skin, a slender body, and cold narrow eyes. She was the granddaughter of the school president. Even the teachers never dared touch her. No matter what trouble she caused, no matter how many students she tormented, one word from the president’s office and everything quietly disappeared.
The male delinquents rode that power and ran wild even more openly. She always had a cigarette between her lips and ruled them like a queen.
When the boys beat me she stood to the side and watched, laughing. Sometimes she stepped in herself.
Behind the gymnasium.
I had been late bringing the bread. Bae Si-yeon walked up with a cigarette in her mouth, blew smoke straight into my face without a word, and looked me over slowly.
Hoo—
Then she tapped the tip of her shoe lightly between my legs.
“Hey, pig. That thing… it’s small, right?”
I covered myself with both hands and shrank back. She laughed low.
“Don’t bother hiding it. We all know your dick’s buried so deep in the fat you can barely grab it with two fingers.”
She shoved my head down and forced me to my knees.
“Kneel. Show it properly. I’m curious how a pig like you has his cock swallowed by all that meat.”
The boys behind her exploded with laughter.
“Hahaha. Maybe he doesn’t even have one?”
Bae Si-yeon looked satisfied with the reaction. She nudged my face with her foot and gave a new order.
“Nah… why would I want to look at your dick? It’d just make me feel dirtier. Heh heh heh.”
Shame flooded me; I kept my head down and said nothing. She watched me, stuck the cigarette back between her lips, and drew a long drag.
Sss— haa—
Pleasure and disgust swam together in her eyes.
I had refused her once. Just once. That day I couldn’t take it anymore and found the courage to say no for the first time.
“I… can’t buy it today.”
That single sentence lit the fuse. Bae Si-yeon walked toward me slowly, cigarette still in her mouth.
“Haha. What did you say?”
At her words three of the boys already had me surrounded. She looked down at my face without speaking, then suddenly drove her foot hard into my thigh.
Thud—
“Ack…!”
I swallowed a scream and collapsed under the sudden pain. She laughed low again.
“Can’t? You pig bastard? Did you take some kind of drug? Hey, pig. Today I’m gonna turn you into Duruchigi.”
Thud— thud—
The boys rushed in, kicking my stomach, punching my face.
“Ugh…! Guh…!”
I hit the ground and the kicks kept coming even after I was down. Bae Si-yeon watched through a cloud of cigarette smoke, then signaled the boys to stop, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and yanked my head up.
“Aaagh…!”
“Open your mouth, you pig bastard.”
I clenched my teeth. She yanked harder. My head was forced back until my throat stretched tight. With her free hand she clamped my cheeks hard, fingers digging into the flesh and prying my jaws open. My gums showed; spit drooled out.
“I said open your fucking mouth!”
She gathered a thick wad of phlegm as if scraping her throat, then shoved her face right over my open mouth.
Hrrk— ptooey—!
A slimy, viscous gob of spit landed on my tongue. The sharp, nauseating reek of cigarette smoke filled my nose and fouled my entire mouth.
“Swallow it all.”
Her sole pressed down on my face. My nose flattened; I couldn’t breathe. The spit filling my mouth slid down my throat. I fought the gag and forced it down.
Urgh—
Gulp.
She ground her foot harder, twisting my face under the sole, and whispered in a cold, low voice.
“‘Can’t’ is a word that doesn’t exist for you. Got it? Say it one more time and… you’re really gonna die.”
I bit down hard so I wouldn’t cry from the humiliation, but it was useless. Snot and tears mixed and ran down my face; the bitter, filthy cigarette taste lingered and refused to leave. Sniveling, drooling, I begged her for forgiveness.
After that I never refused another order. Enduring and surviving simply became easier.
Did the teachers not know? They probably did. Every classmate knew too. But no one stepped in. If it had been me I would have done the same. Better to pretend not to see than get beaten alongside the victim.
I learned the world very early.
That the weak are alone.
That no one comes to save you.
And that hoping for help only makes you more miserable.