PLOVE (1)

PLOVE. According to the man himself, the handle stood for Pantsu Love.

A raving lunatic who went around leaving comments under practically every post in existence, offering to buy women's used panties.

At first, users wrote him off as just another troll milking a "brainless degenerate" gimmick for attention, and so everyone simply ignored him.

Then a single post flipped PLOVE's entire standing on its head.

It was PLOVE's very first post.

The users, too, must have clicked it out of the same curiosity that had gripped me—this bastard can actually write posts?

In the apocalyptic world, fap material was a precious resource. No idiot would be out there farming porn in a world that had already ended.

What's more, the Super-Colossal monster attack had obliterated every scrap of pre-apocalypse internet data, and even excavating a hard drive with its porn fully intact was like plucking stars from the sky. Aside from the occasional images the gallery's resident artists cooked up, it was virtually nonexistent.

And no woman would ever risk exposing her identity or location to post pictures of her own body.

But.

PLOVE's posts had a real woman in them. Not just any woman, either—a former model, no less, complete with the jaw-dropping performance of stripping off her own underwear and tossing it over personally.

Even the sliver of pubic hair caught on video was enough to drive a man out of his mind. With vivid photos and videos, plus meticulously detailed panty reviews stacked on top, PLOVE's posts delivered one superb helping of fap material after another.

This was the moment PLOVE—once dismissed as a mere troll—ascended in a single bound to beloved gallery regular and the star of my dreams.

"……Pantsu Love."

I had no idea what channels the guy had used to track down and recruit a woman. Then again, maybe the model had approached him first, desperate for points. Apart from the standout hunters, few women went out personally hunting monsters, so she'd probably been struggling to get by.

Granted, that was nothing more than my own speculation.

Still, it was exactly the kind of guesswork I needed if I wanted to approach Pantsu Love naturally. I immediately opened his profile and clicked "Send Message."

A mere three seconds after the message went out.

A reply came straight back. I'd known for a while that the guy practically lived in the gallery, but I hadn't expected him to answer with such razor speed.

Today was the day LOVE finally came calling.

I hadn't summoned him to the bunker where I actually lived, of course. The Dummy Bunker—an exact replica of the real one—stood in for it, and a secret passage even connected the two. The layout was a touch convoluted by design, but in practice it served as the receiving entrance for outside guests.

Beep beep—.

The moment the appointed hour struck, the entrance sensor chimed. A glance at the interior camera showed a man standing outside.

Overgrown hair, round glasses, and a hulking bulk of a man, fat rippling over fat.

"Pantsu Love……?"

You shouldn't judge people by their looks—but his visuals matched the handle perfectly.

I'd already drilled him on how to behave once inside, so there was no need for me to show myself. All I had to do was see the trade through exactly as planned.

To get things started, I sent Pantsu Love a message.

Pantsu Love glanced around, discovered the box, drew out the panties inside, and turned them over in his hands this way and that.

Then he buried his face in them and started snuffling away. It was a sight I could have done without, but the memory of how I'd been getting off all this time came rushing back, and my face went hot.

"Mmm……."

Before long, Pantsu Love's heavy voice rolled out through the speaker.

"It really is the scent of panties worn for right about three days. As promised, I will transfer the 100,000 points."

Compared to what model Yeon Hyerin—the star of PLOVE's first post—had fetched, it was a markedly smaller sum. Honestly, wasn't my figure better? Prettier, even? My pride ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stung a little, but it couldn't be helped; Pantsu Love had never seen my face or body.

And the points were a side perk anyway. My true objective lay elsewhere.

Having sent over the points, Pantsu Love abruptly began fumbling his pants down.

"I can't say I understand why you'd insist on taking this as collateral, but……"

Muttering quietly to himself, he tucked the underwear he'd just stripped off into the box that had held mine, and slipped silently out of the Dummy Bunker.

That said—on a body shaped like that pig's, how the hell was his cock that enormous?

Gulp—.

"Mmmh……♡"

Happy.

If Pantsu Love was to be believed, these panties were a top-shelf item, aged a full week. The scent of male rolling off them was thick beyond any comparison to Baek Woon's.

"Hnnf……♡ Hnnf……♡"

I could have kept my face buried in them all day and never tired of it. My pussy juice flowed on and on, as if it would never know a dry day.

Squelch, squelch, squelch—.

"Hii-euk……♡"

My clit, drenched through and swollen soft. Spreading my palm wide and grinding until it squelched wetly—there was no therapy in the world like it.

Utterly hooked on the scent of used panties, my life had drifted a fair distance from its old shape. Masturbate, eat, masturbate, eat, masturbate, eat, masturbate, sleep.

The biggest change, if I had to name one, was my water consumption. Every session wrung out tears, snot, drool, sweat, and pussy juice alike—every drop of moisture in my body came spraying free, so there was nothing for it. Without my Inexhaustible Body ability, I'd probably have dried out into a mummy and died of dehydration.

But what was I supposed to do about that? Between worrying about dehydration and stealing one more whiff of panty musk, one more rub of my pussy—the latter was infinitely more rewarding, a precious daily ritual.

Schlop, schlop, schlop—.

Squish, squish, squish—.

Every pass of my hand set my hips shuddering into spasm. The peaks and orgasms this female body knew were a pleasure running on a whole different track from a man's ejaculation. Endless pleasure, with no such thing as post-nut clarity.

All it took was a pinch of my nipples and a rub of my pussy for a brain-melting sensation to pour out without end. I couldn't help laughing at the addictiveness of it—this poison that had turned a world as tedious as the apocalypse into a happy one.

Psssshhhhhhhh—.

Sprrrrrrrrrrt—.

Pussy juice pouring out as freely as everything I'd drunk. That forceful, bursting stream delivered a pleasure humming full of tremors.

"Haaaahhh……♡"

After spewing out every last drop of that shameless juice, I lay sprawled bare on the floor, unable to move so much as a finger. And the moment even a scrap of strength returned to my hand, it was reaching for my clit all over again.

……Maybe just one more time.

A single post had the Gangwon-do Gallery burning up.

It was PLOVE's review of my panties.

Thankfully, there wasn't a trace of information about my identity. It was embarrassing enough to make my face burn as I read, but by these standards it counted as tame. No identifying details, and compliments, even. Though the fact that my rating had come in lower than Yeon Hyerin's? That, I could have done without.

"But do I really wear my masturbation addiction that openly……?"

Was it the trained eye of an expert? Had I simply soaked too much of myself into the fabric? Or was Pantsu Love's nose grotesquely, inhumanly sharp—I couldn't tell. All I knew was that my lowest, innermost self felt like it had been picked apart and laid bare before that man, and the shame came flooding in.

"Phew……."

Watching countless users pump up the view count just to gawk at pictures of my panties, sexually harassing me in the comments… I'd gotten worked up for no good reason, and my finger was already circling my nipple.

"Haaahh……."

Just as I was about to put my pussy to use, too—

Beep—.

Once again, the Dummy Bunker's sensor went off.