11-IF. What If I Got Caught in the Library? (4)
The T-shirt clings uselessly to my sweat-and-dirt-soaked body, offering no coverage at all. Shoe prints are smeared haphazardly across it from the start. Completely drenched, my nipples are visible right through the fabric at the tips of my breasts. I've barely managed to pull up my pants, but my inner thighs are throbbing so badly I couldn't zip them. They barely cover my ass—that's it. My hair is a tangled mess from being grabbed so many times. My mouth is soaked with dirt and saliva, and clear handprints mark my neck.
In this utterly depraved state, I slowly make my way up the path. Luckily, no one's passing through on the hillside road leading to the dorm. If even one person had shown up, they would've grabbed me for round two. And that would've felt good... I quickly shake off the thought flashing through my mind.
My thighs, my neck muscles, my torn-up breasts—there's no part of me that doesn't hurt. After a second round, I probably wouldn't be able to move at all. Right now, I can't do anything... Whether it's fortune or misfortune, I reach the dorm room without running into anyone. I wipe the dirt-caked grime from my hands on my T-shirt and carefully punch in the door code.
The door opens right away, and I slip inside. Yeji unnie is waiting for me in the room. She's sitting on my bed, facing the door, fiddling with her phone.
"You look like a total whore."
"Unnie..."
Her face is cold and emotionless. She seems to be trying to hide it, but her eyes are narrowed in clear contempt, like she's seen right through me.
"Sorry..."
"Sorry for what?"
"For showing you something gross..."
Shaking my ass and acting cute in front of those guys wasn't hard, but I have no idea what to say to Yeji unnie.
"You know it's gross? You like doing pervert shit that much?"
I can't say anything to that. It felt good—that's the truth. Denying it would be a lie. And I don't want to lie to Yeji unnie.
"Ha."
She clicks her tongue in disbelief at the sight of me.
"If you like it that much, why not just strip naked? You were flashing everything in public anyway—what's stopping you in your own room?"
Her mocking words make the space between my legs wet again. Not from before, but fresh liquid. Because there's a part of me that gets excited even from those simple words. The thrill rising in my chest makes my hand drift to the hem of my shirt without thinking. The T-shirt drops to the floor, followed by my skinny jeans. No underwear, of course. I'm naked in front of Yeji unnie.
My breasts and ass are swollen red, handprints bruise my neck, and from my pussy, red and white fluids mix into a thick pink ooze dripping out.
"You..."
Yeji unnie bites her lip, speechless. I stand there like that for a long time until the pink goo mixes with clear fluid. Her silent gaze strangely excites me. It's not cold or contemptuous—just a plain look, but still.
"You really like this stuff? Even if you end up getting raped like today from wandering around naked?"
"A... a little... Today was just bad luck..."
I probably won't be able to quit exposing myself outside from now on. Deep down, I know I've already turned into a total pervert.
Yeji unnie slaps her forehead in frustration.
"Ha... fine. Everyone has their own fetishes, so I get it. No, you can't! How can a girl treat her body like that? What the hell is this!?"
She suddenly explodes, yelling. I get why. At first, she was disgusted and contemptuous, but seeing the marks on my body made her pity me. She didn't want to get involved with a dirty slut, but witnessing the aftermath made her feel sorry for me.
"If you're gonna do pervert shit, at least do it safely!!"
Everything Yeji unnie says is right. If I'd played it safe, I wouldn't have gotten caught, wouldn't be despised, and wouldn't have been forced. Though I'm not sure it was really force... Anyway, I wouldn't have been caught in such shameful behavior as a woman.
I nod obediently. Her common-sense words feel good, but I can't promise I'll stop spreading my pussy while I walk around.
"Got it, unnie... I'll be careful from now on."
"From now on...? Shouldn't this kind of thing never happen again? Can't you just quit? No, if it's really your fetish, I can't force you. Ha, but this is too much, isn't it?"
Watching her ramble, unsure what to say, makes me smile faintly. I can tell her worry outweighs her urge to condemn me.
"You're smiling right now!?"
I'm a little disappointed she doesn't look at me with contemptuous eyes, but her concern makes me feel good in a different way. Still, I'm certain things won't go the way she wants. I've already handed my life over to those people with my own hands.
The next morning, I pull out a pink knit top and white long skirt. The handprints around my neck won't fade, so I pick something to cover it, but there's nothing thin enough for the weather. Whatever—I'll endure it for a few days. Yeji unnie left early for class, leaving me alone in the room.
My breasts ache sharply just from touching them after yesterday's squeezing, so no bra. The knit is thick enough that it shouldn't show from outside—lucky. My inner thighs sting too much even for pants, so I have no choice but a comfortable long skirt with no friction.
By the time I finish picking clothes, class is about to start. I hurry to the lecture hall, fling open the door—and sense a weird tension hanging in the air. Even with the professor up front, every guy's eyes snap to me. Some look contemptuous, others sneering. A few openly scan me like I've become an intriguing toy, curiosity gleaming.
These gazes, so different from yesterday, seep into my skin. My legs wobble oddly under the subtle stares. Cold eyes feel like they're stabbing my skin through the air; muffled sneers and mockery drift around. Someone snickers and whispers to the guy next to him. I instinctively know there's hidden contempt aimed at me.
Something's off. An answer flashes in my mind. That sleazy video from yesterday—the one that could ruin my life. It's already spread. I figured they'd blackmail me first, demand something. I didn't expect it to leak without a word. From the vibe, every guy in this lecture hall has seen it. I'm the only girl in the department, so everyone knows.
The classroom air clings to my skin like sticky humidity. That viscous atmosphere soaks between my legs. Everyone here knows what kind of person I am. They all know what I did. Every time I turn, contempt and base lust shoot toward me. My body reacts honestly to those stares. My breath quickens. Heat builds until my nipples harden visibly through the knit.
Whether they see my face or my body's response, some guys' gazes shift. Brutish, savage looks that treat me like trash—aimed right at me. In the silent hush where no one speaks outright, tension squeezes my throat. It's the first lecture after orientation, but I don't remember a word the professor says. I don't even notice when it ends.
I just sit there frozen until some guy shoves his phone in my face.
"Ha-yoon, this you?"
On the screen, a woman strikes a vulgar pose, yelling something. The sound is low, but I know exactly what she's saying better than anyone. I'm a pervert. Touch me. Hit me. I look up to meet contemptuous stares that already know everything, piercing down at me. People crowd around, encircling me and the guy completely.
Too late to run. They won't just watch me flee. I nod meekly. Yeah, that's me. The pervert in the video is me. I did it.
"Wanna talk for a sec? Got some questions."
His voice is soft, coaxing. But beneath it burns raw desire—for my body, the kind that excites me.
Others grab my arms, pulling me up. I gently twist free, signaling I won't run. Luckily, they let go. No point anyway—I'm surrounded. Gripping my skirt hem as I eye the crowd, They've all seen it... Hiding's pointless. Running's useless. I clutch the fabric and slowly lift it. My panties are exposed to every guy in the department. Soaked through, anyone can tell I'm aroused.
"...I'm a pervert who likes this stuff..."