Traces (3)
From that day on, right up until the family introduction dinner, Yurin used my body like a toy.
Claiming it was all for the sake of filming, she put me through every kind of perverted act imaginable.
She seemed to have taken a particular liking to sex under the influence of drugs — not once did a session go by without them.
A video of her milking me for twenty-four hours straight, pumping me full of stimulants and arginine the entire time. A video experimenting with just how long she could violate my cock once the drugs were in my system. A video of her forcibly taking me while I was asleep. A video measuring how much longer and thicker my cock could get when she administered every drug she had on hand. She filmed every last one of those twisted, grotesque acts.
And whenever the conversation turned to Minji, she would drug me, bind my hands and feet, and film herself choking me while she fucked me.
A few of the videos failed, though.
The ones where she set out to take my "firsts" — longest blowjob, longest time forcing me to eat her out, longest time staying locked together cock-to-pussy — all three of those ended up as ordinary sex tapes, because Yurin got too worked up and couldn't hold back from ravaging me.
She still liked the failed ones, but for me they were pure hell. Moments of such merciless violation that I regretted having been born a man.
I was terrified that this was what my married life was going to be.
Morning and night, whenever I showered, the eyes looking back at me in the mirror were slowly changing. I had inherited my mother's sharp features, but under the relentless sexual torture my eyelids had begun to droop, and the suffering was writing itself across my face. Where I had once been a pretty boy with a slightly sharp, androgynous look, I now had faintly downturned eyes and a beauty mark that gave me a decadent, almost ruined air.
In the early days of the filming, when she was violating me without mercy, I had even considered calling off the engagement. But then I would see the gentle way Yurin treated me after the sex was over, and the way my mood would lift because of it made me despise myself.
Worse still, I seemed to have adapted to a degree — there were moments when I actually found myself looking forward to those rape-like sessions with her.
My body no longer seemed capable of being satisfied by ordinary sex. After being flooded, again and again, with pleasure so intense it reduced my brain to mush and brought me to the brink of death, nothing short of the violent, extreme sex Yurin specialized in could push me over the edge.
And because I had been taking those narcotic-class drugs so frequently, a dependency had started to form. There were times I even caught myself wanting to take the drugs again and have sex with Yurin.
All of that had happened to my body in just two weeks.
With a body like this, meeting any other woman would probably be impossible now.
Then, recently, I checked the name of the folder holding all those videos and nearly blacked out.
Folder name: Seona_DrugConditioning_01
The "01" meant she intended to make an "02." How many more videos was she planning to shoot? How much harder was she going to push things? The dark, filthy depths of Yurin's desire — depths I had never known existed — filled me with dread.
There were already nine videos, and she still hadn't created a second folder. Just how thoroughly did she mean to wring me dry?
Even today — the day both families were gathering for the introduction dinner — sex and drugs were still on my mind.
I forced my slack expression and drifting thoughts back into place and set out to pick up my parents for the appointment.
Seeing my face for the first time in two weeks, both of my parents looked at me with worry in their eyes.
"Seona. What happened to your face?"
They must have noticed the exhausted droop at the corners of my eyes. Two weeks was more than enough for the change in my presence to register — there was no way my parents wouldn't sense that something had happened to me.
"It's nothing. I guess I'm just a little tired."
A little tired wouldn't do this to anyone, but I had to offer some kind of excuse. Otherwise they might figure out what was really wrong with me.
And even looking at my own parents' faces, my brain — steeped daily in pleasure — was still hunting for pussy and drugs. The thought of what a filthy, vulgar body I had become made me feel like the worst kind of son, and it hurt more than I could stand.
The urge to escape reality rose up again, and once more the drugs and Yurin's pussy floated into my mind.
I can't keep doing this.
I pulled myself together and suggested we talk on the way to the meeting place.
Lee Min-a could tell at once that something was badly off with her son after so long apart.
His body had taken on a strangely sensual quality it never used to have, and every time that vacant look crossed his face, something felt wrong. The downturned corners of those eyes — eyes that looked so much like her own — were almost painful to see.
"Seona, is something going on?"
Lee Min-a asked, her voice full of concern.
"No. Nothing in particular."
"Is Yurin giving you a hard time? If that's it, you need to tell us right away. This is the kind of thing you have to think carefully about before you get married."
"...It really isn't. I've just been hanging out with Yurin a lot lately, so I think I'm tired. That's all."
What kind of "hanging out" left a kid looking like half a person?
The thought crossed her mind — and then she remembered that both of them were already adults living together, and she could more or less guess what they'd been up to. A faint heat rose to her face. She had never imagined the day would come when her own child would be doing that sort of thing.
Having watched Yurin and Seona since they were little, Min-a found it wondrous that those two small children had already grown this much — and at the same time, she wondered if they might be taking things a little too far.
Still, that didn't fully explain the way Seona had grown stiff, withdrawn, and passive before. He was probably suffering over something else entirely. But talking about the two of them's sex life wasn't exactly easy.
"Even so, if anything's hard for you, make sure you tell Mom or Dad. Especially Dad — he's the same gender as you, so he'll understand a lot of the things you're dealing with."
"Thank you for worrying. If I really need to, I'll talk to you."
He said it, but the way Seona kept his heart firmly shut left both husband and wife with a tight, aching feeling in their chests.
At the family introduction dinner, the two households already knew each other so well from years of contact that there was no need for empty formalities. Instead, the conversation turned to practical matters — preparations for Seona and Yurin's wedding, the house after marriage, the bridal gifts, everything actually required for the marriage.
The honeymoon was for Yurin and Seona to decide, so both sets of parents deliberately left that topic alone, giving the two of them room to settle it themselves.
The wedding was set for a month from now. As for the newlywed home, Executive Yura offered them a house just five minutes from the Hwaryong Guild headquarters dormitory, where Yurin and Seona would eventually be working. It was housing provided as an executive benefit, but it was a detached house with no real inconveniences for newlyweds — forty pyeong, with its own yard. Not quite on the level of Yura's own residence, but more than enough.
When Lee Min-a, as the mother, insisted on taking responsibility for the bridal gifts, Yurin firmly refused, saying she would sell a house she owned and prepare them herself. But Executive Yura pressed her, saying one had to preserve the dignity of one's in-laws — and Yurin, with an apology, finally answered, "Thank you, Mother."
Once every agreement regarding the marriage had been reached, both sets of parents stamped their seals on the marriage registration form.
After the meal at the introduction dinner concluded, Yurin and Seona paid their respects to each other's parents, promising to visit again soon, and saw them off.
Then the two of them headed home.
Throughout the introduction dinner, Seona kept his words to a bare minimum, terrified that his fogged-over mind would make him slip up. The slightly demure, well-mannered air he gave off earned him praise from Yura and her husband for his proper etiquette.
Yurin knew perfectly well that Seona's condition was her own doing.
For several days now he had been the one asking her for sex — had even gone so far as to get on his knees and beg for the drugs. Watching him surrender to the dependency made her feel a flicker of pity, but more than that, it filled her with the resolve that she would be the one to take responsibility for him for the rest of his life.
And so Yurin drew up a set of rules for the two of them as a couple-to-be.
The drugs would only be given before sex. If the sex failed to satisfy Yurin, the next time would be without them. And he was to obey her — his wife, and the head of the household — in everything.
She even filmed Seona on his knees, listening attentively as she laid out those terms. Evidence, in case he ever tried to go back on his word.
She planned to force herself on him and have her fun every time he broke the rules, playing the video as she did — though making the video itself had been entertaining enough.
Seona had been conditioned by Yurin's drugs and sex. No other woman would ever be enough for him now.
Honestly, women who had a decent amount of money, who kept their figures toned through regular exercise, and who had inherited Yura's beauty were rare enough. And a partner who knew Seona's personality inside and out, who truly matched him — there was no one else in the world but her.
Once they were married, she would have everything that was Seona's.
As long as nothing went wrong before the wedding, Seona would be hers forever. Of that, Yurin was absolutely certain.
