20-IF. What If I Fell Asleep Just Like That? (7)
“Slurp! Gluck! Shluuuurp… Ahh! Churp!”
A fishy-smelling pillar of flesh fills my mouth completely. It's no longer just a vague salty, briny taste that stops my thoughts there—now I can clearly define it as the flavor of a cum-coated cock. The hot, rigid sensation and that uniquely masculine scent grow thicker the more I suck.
I force my sluggish brain cells to fire in my dazed mind. Why… did it end up like this? Was it because I couldn't escape when the old men blocked the bus door? Or because I offered to make up for being a nuisance? …Was stripping naked on the bus and masturbating that bad? But perverts doing a little naughty stuff is normal, right? I'm not some extreme pervert; I just like slightly lewd things…
Ah… I don't know anything anymore. No thoughts come. I just want to feel this stimulation… this pleasure that feels so good, so satisfying… The cock's pounding shocks against my lower body ignore my resistance, thrusting deep into my throat, bringing up waves of nausea… all of it turns to ecstasy, dominating my mind.
“Suck harder, you pervert bitch!”
A roar echoes with fire exploding on my ass. Reflexively, I tense my lower belly, working to please the cock ravaging my slutty pussy—which was virgin just moments ago. I don't even know how many times it got hit, but my ass and the groin slamming into my pubic bone with every deep thrust ache and throb. Still, every burst of pain makes my womb twitch and quiver, my pussy automatically soaking itself in that bizarre, intoxicating pleasure. It doesn't matter. My body feels like it's changing to fit the cock. Is it being overtaken by pleasure, or was I always a pervert with that potential? I can't tell.
All I know is that every time pain hits, it slowly morphs into sweet shivers—and it all feels so good. The old men just keep using me like a living toy: spank my ass and my pussy clenches; slap my tits and my throat tightens.
Feels good. Can't even go home, treated like an object… It feels so fucking good. Like I've really become an object. A cheap onahole for a moment's pleasure. I can't refuse approaching men or choose them; I'm just used pathetically. It's so humiliating, so degrading… but it feels so good it could make me cum…
“Hey, lift your head.”
Suddenly, the cock in my mouth vanishes, and the old man who'd been spanking my ass until it felt good disappears too. Coming to, I find myself collapsed in a filthy puddle on the asphalt—my own slutty juices, sweat, and a bit of cum mixed together. Surrounded by the old men peering down at me, I hang my head, panting in short gasps. Every exhale brings sweet, sugary breath from my overworked body.
One man grabs my hair, yanking my head up forcibly. Our eyes meet.
“Im Ha-yoon… You go to a school far away, huh? This must be near your home?”
In his other hand, a familiar card-sized object. My student ID… and my actual ID. Both were in my bag—how did they get them? Now they're all in his grip.
Oh, no… this can't happen…
Terror surges through me. The student ID has everything about me as a college student: school name, department, year, student number. The ID goes without saying—name, photo, resident registration number, and my home address on the back. Those two little plastic cards are the total package of my personal info, enough to identify me completely.
Once they see them, I'm no longer some nameless pervert slut. I become Im Ha-yoon, first-year in Smart Green Mechanical Engineering at Cheonwoon University, whose family lives not far from here. No more hiding who I am. Everyone will know that Im Ha-yoon masturbated naked on an intercity bus, got joyfully beaten by strangers, and sucked cock like a depraved masochistic whore.
…It's all exposed. All of it.
“Hnngh, hah, huuuuaaaang!”
The realization hits, and lightning bolts from deep inside my body, wracking me entirely. Tingling shoots to my fingertips; uncontrollable tremors flood in. My back arches off the asphalt, limbs flailing grotesquely as I climax hard. Through my fading consciousness, I hear the click-click of photos being taken.
Only after a long while, as my body slowly settles, does the man speak. He's dangling his phone.
“Miss, I took some pictures.”
What… what pictures…?No way, please no…?
Too weak to speak, I roll my eyes up at him. The sleazy smirk in his eyes feels ominous.
“Your ID, student ID, and that wild orgasm face just now—all snapped. With your face so clear, it'll be easy for people around to recognize you, right?”
No, no! Not photos… Anything but photos… If they really took those, anyone seeing them would know I'm a total pervert. No excuses, no escape. Even everyday people would look at me with contempt. I can never go back to normal life. It's really over.
Filled with despair, I don't even think to snatch the phone—just stare blankly up at him.
“From now on, you better listen to everyone here. You know what we'll do if you don't, right?”
It's all too easy to imagine. Those lewd photos scattered across campus, no department spared. Worst case, sent to my home. I'd have nowhere left. Those few shots hold that much power. Yeji unnie, my department mates—they'd all see me as a whore, a slut. Even my siblings might shun me. If that happens, I couldn't show my face anywhere.
“Be good from now on, miss.”
He strokes my hair with a grin. It's sticky with cum and sweat, but he doesn't care, petting it gently. Like a final human gesture before the end… caressing my filthy hair softly.
Even my sluggish brain gets it. I've truly become their property now. With those photos, escape is impossible.
But even now, my pussy gushes slutty juices in spurts. Proof of my depravity captured forever in their pockets, blackmailed into an inescapable abyss—and still, my body keeps soaking itself. Despair feels like even greater pleasure.
Ahead, whether I want it or not, I'll be summoned and fucked whenever they desire. Or maybe right here, who knows what humiliation. Fear, terror, anticipation, ecstasy—all tangle wildly, dizzying my mind. The thrill of being owned, used as a sex toy against my will… I'm reveling in it.
Embarrassing. Shameful. Stupid. My body feels so humiliated for feeling this way… but even that humiliation makes me wetter.
“Hey, don't just sit there—spread your legs.”
One old man blocking the view from outside growls the command lowly. As I blankly look up, a slap stings my cheek. My head snaps to the side from the shock. Before I recover, burning heat spreads across my face.
Why… why…?
“Spread 'em, you fucking bitch.”
Ah… that's why. Just for that.
The slap resets my brain completely before the blackmail shock even fades. Reflexively, I lie back on the asphalt, grabbing my ankles with both hands and spreading my legs as wide as possible. My hairless pussy to my asshole—everything exposed without hiding a thing.
A normal girl would feel massive shame, utter humiliation in this pose. But I hesitate not at all. Blushing heat floods my face… and the excitement filling my head.
The man who'd shoved the phone in my face earlier raises it again from behind the group. His action feels almost sacred, like a duty to record my suffering.
The old men's grotesque meat slabs target me, closing in.