Chapter 29 The Son Who Only Gives Himself to His Family Women
Chapter 29 The Son Who Only Gives Himself to His Family Women
I rushed out of the funeral hall in a panic after receiving a call from Fourth Mother.
Guilt pricked at me seeing First Mother lying naked on the floor, unable to get up—but I had no time to help wash her body or anything like that.
If I did, she'd undoubtedly grab me and force me to go at it with her several more times.
Huff... huff... huff...
I sprinted at full speed, gulping down the cold night air until my breath grew ragged.
But my excitement wouldn't settle. My cock, still rock-hard and throbbing, rubbed against my inner thigh with every step, irritating me to no end.
Even after fucking Fourth Mother and then First Mother over ten times, it still wouldn't go down.
"Fuck... What the hell?"
Maybe it was my agitated, rough state of mind, but curses I normally never used spilled effortlessly from my lips.
Something was wrong. I'd always known my libido was abnormally strong since childhood, and my stamina was beyond average—but this was way beyond the realm of normalcy.
And the things I'd said and done to First Mother earlier were no different.
Even if I disliked her, there was no reason to go that far.
Mocking her for having a "chicken-coop womb" that could no longer bear children, then recklessly pumping her full of cum—none of that had been necessary.
But at the time, I couldn't stop myself.
Like some kind of demon, I couldn't resist violating First Mother over and over.
No matter how many possibilities I considered, only one conclusion made sense:
This was a side effect of the human experiments forced on me as a child to develop the Holy Medicine.
The more I thought about it, the more it fit.
The Cult had always preached that the Holy Medicine was a divine gift from the Heavenly Mandate—harmless as long as you expelled it properly. But in reality, it was no different from hard drugs. Being injected with that shit constantly since childhood? Of course there'd be side effects.
Huuuuuh...!
A frustrated groan escaped me as I kept running, searching for Fourth Mother.
Did this mean I'd have to live the rest of my life like this?
Once I got aroused, would I turn into some kind of demon, unable to resist brutally violating any woman in front of me—even if they were my own mothers?
I didn't know.
And I also didn't know the location Fourth Mother had urgently told me about.
I stopped to look around and tried calling her again.
No answer.
As I hesitated, the thought of calling the police crossed my mind.
But I soon shook my head with a bitter laugh.
Ask the police for help?
The person they really needed to arrest wasn't whoever was threatening Fourth Mother right now—it was Fourth Mother herself.
In the end, I turned back the way I'd come.
That's when I spotted a young-looking woman loitering near the roadside, as if trying to hail a taxi. She wore a jacket with a university's initials embroidered on it.
She looked exactly like the college students I'd only ever seen in hidden dramas.
Having grown up in the Cult's so-called "holy land"—really just a large, uninhabited island—I could count on one hand the number of times I'd spoken to anyone outside my family. But now wasn't the time to hesitate.
I swallowed my awkwardness and mustered my courage. What might seem trivial to others made my heart pound harder than when I'd been sprinting.
What if she knew I was the son of a cult leader and started cursing me out?
"Uh... hey, excuse me."
My hand hovered awkwardly mid-air as I called out to her.
"Huh? ...Huh? Huh? ...Oh!"
At first, she answered indifferently, but the moment she turned and saw my face, she startled—then immediately brightened up, replying loudly.
Her face was flushed, probably from drinking, and a faint whiff of alcohol drifted over when she spoke.
Then, suddenly, her legs seemed to give out—as if she'd misstepped—and she nearly toppled over the curb.
Instinctively, I reached out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her toward me.
This was the first time I'd ever touched a woman who wasn't family.
And yet, despite my inexperience, I'd already become a pervert who'd fucked two of my mothers.
"I, uh, wanted to ask for directions—"
I cut myself off and gently pushed the college girl, who was now clinging to me, back toward the sidewalk.
We'd basically been hugging.
Even someone as socially clueless as me knew you shouldn't embrace random women.
"I need to ask for directions."
I looked at her face—not as strikingly beautiful as First or Fourth Mother, but cute enough to probably be popular with guys—and spoke again.
The moment I did, she let out a startled noise, like "Huh?! Huh?! Huh?!"
Even to my socially inept eyes, her reaction was weird. So weird that I started doubting myself—had I done something wrong?
Lost in thought for a second, I soon realized why.
The heavy sensation between my legs.
My cock, still erect—so swollen it was visibly tenting my pants.
No wonder she was shocked. I'd approached a stranger like this.
"...Oh, no. This is just a physiological reaction."
I gave an excuse no one would believe while reaching down to adjust myself, bending my cock to tuck it against my left thigh.
The college girl stared blatantly at my hand and the movement of my dick, making me even more embarrassed.
My first conversation with an outsider—something I'd dreamed of since childhood—had ended in a complete mess. And not with some corrupt politician or gangster the Cult sponsored, but with an ordinary, normal person.
"It's okay!"
After a brief silence, the flustered girl suddenly shouted.
This time, I was the one taken aback.
"...What's okay?"
"Oh, uh, I mean... That's okay. The physiological reaction."
She turned her head shyly, briefly pointing at my swollen cock with her finger before clenching her fist.
...Was she trying to make me feel less embarrassed?
Either way, I didn't have time to chat.
In a firm voice, I described the location Fourth Mother had given me.
The girl responded with oddly frantic gestures, stumbling over her words in a flustered rush.
But the gist of it was: she didn't know.
My first attempt at courage, wasted.
"Thanks anyway."
I bowed slightly and turned away, preparing to run off again in search of Fourth Mother.
But for some reason, the college girl started running too.
Too coincidental—not just the timing, but the direction as well.
Even when a taxi (likely the one she'd been waiting for) pulled up beside the curb, she ignored it completely.
The short-lived chase ended with her face-planting onto the pavement.
I hesitated but eventually went back, helping the sniffling girl up and brushing the dirt off her jacket.
Sure, I was the kind of bastard who'd treated First Mother like a cheap whore—but only because she wouldn't have let me go otherwise.
I wasn't heartless enough to leave a crying girl behind.
And the reason I was so desperate to find Fourth Mother wasn't because I feared for her safety—but because she was the violent, temperamental one who might hurt others.
"You okay now? Then I'll—"
I turned to leave the hiccuping girl behind.
But this time, I couldn't even run.
Because she suddenly grabbed my arm and yanked me toward her, wedging it between her cleavage.
Passersby stopped to stare.
Their eyes gleamed, as if they'd stumbled upon prime entertainment.
Under my bewildered gaze, the girl sniffled—then hit me with a completely random question.
"What cologne are you wearing?"
"Huh?"
"I mean... you smell nice. Kind of intense, but floral too."
Cologne? After all that running, all I could smell was my own sweat. My expression must've given me away, because her face stiffened.
Then, squeezing her eyes shut cutely, she blurted out something even more absurd.
"Give me your number!"
"......"
What? Was she a Heavenly Mandate Cult follower trying to recruit me?
Ordinary people wouldn't recognize my face, so that made more sense than a random girl suddenly asking for my number.
As I silently tried to pull my arm free from her cleavage, she hurriedly explained, eyes flying open.
"D-Don't get the wrong idea! I'm not usually like this! I've never asked a guy for his number before! Normally, I'm the one ignoring guys who ask for mine... But... if I let this chance slip, I'll never see you again. So I mustered my courage."
Her voice, flustered yet brimming with sincerity, made her face—already cute even to someone used to the stunning beauty of my mothers—even more endearing.
"No."
I coldly refused, yanking my arm free.
For a brief moment, my heart had raced.
But the son of a cult leader had no right to date a normal college girl.
If I tried, my mothers would ruin this innocent girl's life.
And even if they didn't, I was the problem—something inside me was clearly broken by the Holy Medicine.
So I couldn't get any more entangled with an ordinary person living a normal life.
"Let go of my arm. I'm in a hurry."
I pulled harder, trying to reason with her.
I thought she'd get the message—but no.
The girl's cute expression twisted into something eerily similar to First Mother's.
Her gaze dropped.
To my still-hard cock.
"Of course you're in a hurry. Yeah, I get it. You've got something urgent to take care of. But... I can help."
"What?"
"I mean, I've never done it before, so I don't know if I'll be good... but you've taken the Holy Medicine, right? Otherwise, staying hard this long... this big... would be impossible."
Her words bordered on sexual harassment, pouring out without context.
She seemed so emotionally overwhelmed she didn't even realize what she was saying.
Yet even as she rambled, she tugged my arm back, rubbing her much smaller breasts against it.
I yanked my arm free.
Just as I was about to run off again, she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around my waist.
"Is she that pretty? Prettier than me?"
Kneeling, she looked up at me pleadingly.
"Yes."
Objectively, she was pretty—but nowhere near Fourth Mother's level.
My blunt answer visibly wounded her pride. Her eyes wavered, yet she clung to me with bizarre possessiveness, begging again.
"Then do it with me too. You'd get sick of eating the same side dish every day, right? If you don't like that... just let me join in. I'll even pay for the motel!"
In that moment, I saw it—the same thing I'd seen in First Mother's face.
The desire to possess me.
A body so aroused it was like she'd taken the Holy Medicine herself.
Years of buried trauma erupted at once.
"...You crazy bitch. Get lost."
I pried her arms off and shoved her away, sending her sprawling. Then, hearing a scream in the distance, I took off running.
It wasn't Fourth Mother's scream—but a man's. Still, I was certain she'd be there.
Behind me, the college girl wailed curses, but I ignored her. Didn't even glance back.
I wasn't heartless enough to abandon a crying woman—unless that "woman" was just a bitch lusting after my dick.
"You bastard! You bastard! You bastard!!!"
The sound of her jacket being thrown at me followed, but I didn't turn.
Her attention just pissed me off.
What did I even do to her?
And since when do strangers proposition me for sex? She wasn't some slut like First Mother.
As I left her behind, the spectators tossed in their two cents.
"Tch. Some guys don't deserve their looks."
"I could treat her better than that trash..."
"Wow, what a piece of shit."
Jealousy. Admiration.
And, if the speaker was female—barely concealed desire.
Less than a week outside the Cult's holy land, and I'd already grown familiar with these reactions.