Tanpa judul

"Ohh... Oh yes, right there Ji!"

Jiwoo stops her licking and glares up at Asa. "Ji? Do you want me to start calling you Ass?"

"Yes if you'll get back to work, Jiwoo."

Asa has to suppress a moan as Jiwoo gives her clit a petulant flick of her tongue—it's not be the first time she's received a tongue lashing from H2H's leader. The memberless arrangement was perfect—no risk of pregnancy (duh), no dealing with jealous fans (who ever got jealous that a girl group member was tonguing another girl group member's box on the regular?), and non-obvious arousal (Asa could have fun feeling Jiwoo up, and Jiwoo could go on stage and no one would be the wiser, but try that with a guy? Good luck performing with a tent in their pants!)

"Mm, right there," Asa gives a huff of approval at the lemonhead spearing her tongue into her, and Asa tries her best to keep her thighs from squeezing Jiwoo—the last time she had to explain why there's makeup on her thighs was not a fun one.

Not that Jiwoo needed the instructions. A deep plunge, a smudge of lipstick on her clit, a lick to clean it off, and Asa twitches, bucking her hips and gasping in a quiet climax.

Jiwoo never quite understood the other "member"-less part though, and asks Asa about it while she's fixing her clothes.

"Remind me again why you need me here? You have Ahyeon, and Ruka, and—"

"Of course you mention Ahyeon first," Asa's very slightly jealous and miffed about that. "Creates too much tension, too much potential to get messy. You get into an argument and you don't even have someone to get you off after to relieve the stress of the argument."

"And so... me?"

"We don't see each other enough to get into an argument, so it's perfect. Now bend over." Jiwoo leans forward over some boxes, taking a deep breath as Asa rubs her slit over the safety shorts. The breath catches in her throat, and the world swirls in her head as Jiwoo's Sweetly Leaking Inner Temple is Slowly Penetrated by Little Intrusive Touches.

"Wait, nails!"

"Oh don't worry Ji, I suggested to stylist-unnie that I can try having gloves on for the stage, so no nails, aren't you lucky." Asa twists her wrist, curling her two fingers and hooking into Jiwoo's sweet spot and instantly feeling her get wetter—if she isn't careful she'll have Jiwoo spewing Salty Lewd yet Illogically Tangy juices all over her outfit.

"N-No don't!" Jiwoo knows it too, and she looks back hurriedly, cheeks pink with arousal. Yet her pussy clenches as Asa pulls her fingers out, replacing it with a thumb on her clit. "Hnngh no, just put it back in!"

"Are you sure?" Jiwoo lewdly pulls her shorts to the side as far as she can, and Asa knows better than to stand directly behind her, in the spray zone. The fingers go back in, and Jiwoo's in a rush to gush, Asa helping her to quickly get there, until—

"Jiwoo unnie, Jiwoo unnie!"

No! Jiwoo's knees buckle as Asa's fingers disappear as quickly as they were in her, the click-clack of her heels already disappearing in the other direction. She quickly fixes her clothing before Stella can round the corner.

"There you are unnie! Is that Asa?"

"That's Asa sunbaenim to you, don't be rude." There's a dull throbbing inside Jiwoo, she was so close!

"What are you doing with our rival?"

"We're not rivals! We were coordinating when we could do a challenge."

"No unnie, this is a competition! Why are you so red? Are you feeling okay?" Stella tries to check on Jiwoo, but she's so sensitive anything might set her off at this point.

"Yeah, yeah, it's hot here. Let's go." Jiwoo takes a deep breath and sighs—time to get to work.

***

"Two hours please." Jiwoo slips a few bills under the counter.

"848. Have a good time." A bystander happens to turn their head as they walk by, spying two slim ladies grabbing the key and heading upstairs. Both had hoodies on and wore masks, but there was blonde hair peeking out the top from one of them.

Must be an idol, and two of them? Damn, whoever can get them up here must be rich. Lucky guy. They assume.

They assume wrong, however, and Jiwoo shoves Asa into the room in front of her.

"God I can't believe you edged me like that." Her lips are on Asa in an instant, hands already diving under her hoodie.

"Hey don't blame me, blame your member. If she hadn't come calling for you I would've made you cum all over the floor."

"Don't. Remind. Me." Asa was happy to play along with Jiwoo's neediness, somehow getting naked faster than Jiwoo as the latter tangles herself in her own clothes. Asa leans back on the pillow and watches—it was rare to see Jiwoo act up this badly.

"Come on, hold still." Asa tugs the hoodie up and over Jiwoo's blonde hair, and Jiwoo's wearing nothing but her bra underneath. "Really? You just go around town like that?"

"Shut up." Asa's ready to rise from the bed, to take her usual spot on top of Jiwoo, but she's stopped, a hand on her chest as Jiwoo kicks off her sweatpants and panties. "I want to be on top."

"Do you even know how to be on top?"

"Don't need to, seen you do it so many times." Asa doesn't mind the kissing at all, nor does she mind Jiwoo feeling her up, hands playing with her perky breasts, but all she feels below is... wriggling. "Fuck it isn't working."

"Come on, sit up, like you would on a cock, you do know where a cock is right?"

"Of course." Jiwoo plants herself right on Asa's hipline before seeing Asa's smirk and scooching herself down a little, leaving a trail of her slick on Asa.

"Now grab my knees, and push them towards me." Asa lets Jiwoo figure it out, keeping her thighs spread as a hint, and Jiwoo gets it half right, hands pressed on the back of Asa's knees. "You need to come closer." Asa takes said hands and pulls them towards her, letting Jiwoo's elbows hook her own knees. "Familiar?"

"Y-Yeah." It's a little foreign to be on top, but between Asa looking cute underneath her and her own yet-to-be-satisfied needs she's just waiting for the touch she needs to get started. "Now what?" She lets herself be led.

"Now drop your hips lower and keep pushing on my knees. You won't hurt me, so push." Jiwoo does as she's told, and at a certain point Asa's hips roll up, and both of them gasp at the sensation, lower lips brushing against one another. Awkwardly Jiwoo bucks down into Asa, but the friction is fleeting, just enough to tease Jiwoo but not enough to get her off, and Asa finally gives in. "You don't remember how I do it at all do you?"

"What? Isn't this how you did it?" Truth be told Jiwoo often felt too good when she was the one on her back, and she barely paid attention to what Asa was doing, as long as it made her cum, which was always. Asa straightens her legs, slipping one between Jiwoo's.

"Come on, hold the other leg." Asa rests it on Jiwoo's shoulder and twists her hips, giving Jiwoo much easier access to her pussy. "Now grind." Asa smirks as Jiwoo's mouth drops open, discovering how to properly fuck another girl for the first time. "That's it, good girl." Jiwoo can only manage a whine, already not paying attention to Asa and chasing the pleasure coursing through her. Asa begins to help her along, bucking against her, the two of them scissoring like a well-slicked machine, which Jiwoo is providing in abundance. Her breaths are short as her hair and getting shorter by the moment, but she's gasping and flagging, beginning to run out of energy, so Asa takes matters into her own fingers.

Jiwoo doesn't even notice Asa leaning forward until too late, grabbing her by the hips with one hand and shoving two fingers deep into her pulsing core. Roughly she shoves her fingers back and forth. It hits Jiwoo all at once, and a primal grunt is all she can let out before she gushes.

"Huh— Nnghk!" Warm juice squirts out of Jiwoo violently, and it's directed right at Asa's own swollen lips. It catches Asa by surprise, like a showerhead pointed at her pussy suddenly turned on, and the "water" pressure is enough to trigger Asa's own climax, her thighs suddenly tightly shut and belly taut, a delightful moan on her lips as she feels Jiwoo continue to spray against her own twitching lips.

"Oh god, oh my god..." When Jiwoo's done she slumps on the bed, thighs soaked with slick, body burning from actively scissoring Asa for the first time. She feels her body being dragged down the bed, back towards Asa, and she whimpers when something hot is against her pussy again—Asa's own core. Asa gives it one good grind before pulling herself up and over Jiwoo.

"You did good."

"Did you cum?"

"Mmhmm, you were very hot." Asa kisses Jiwoo hard. "So hot I want to see it again." Asa shows Jiwoo how it's properly done, and this time Jiwoo watches her intently, eyes glued to the way Asa's belly piercing twinkles in the dim light as she moves back and forth on top of her. Asa leans forward, getting Jiwoo to twist her hips and lift her legs slightly—now she's being fucked sideways, feeling their combined juices flow on to her thigh, lewd tang sticky on her skin.

"Asa... Oh my god." Jiwoo hooks her slim waist with her knee, urging Asa to grind faster, she's so close again! The little whine she lets out when Asa stops is utterly devastating, and Asa wanted nothing more to give Jiwoo what she wants. She slides down the bed, planting herself in a familiar spot—right between Jiwoo's legs.

"Hnngh!" Two fingers are shoved unceremoniously into Jiwoo, and Asa begins moving them up and down, as if doing a specific movement about two specific digits, strumming against her g-spot. She licks and sucks on Jiwoo's Swollen Little Lewd Tip, her clit engorged and eager for attention. Jiwoo's already tensing, ready to explode, and Asa tries something new, pressing a thumb into Jiwoo's Significantly Less Used Tunnel.

"Asa, oh Asa, As— AHHHH!" Jiwoo proceeds to lose her voice, her mind, and every argument she has with Asa going forward—Jiwoo would let her win every argument if Asa can make her cum like this! Down between her legs Asa's ears are ringing from Jiwoo's scream, no doubt piercing through the entire hotel. The thought of the headline, "Babymonster Asa and Hearts2Hearts Jiwoo cause a noise complaint in a love hotel" gets Asa desperate to add to the noise complaint, and with a mouth full of and leaking Jiwoo's Lemon Tang she gets herself off, screaming into Jiwoo's muff as she rubs her own clit to a wet climax. Every gush from Jiwoo seems to trigger a spray from Asa, the sheets rapidly soaking in their pleasure.

When Asa gathers herself, all she can feel is two hands on her skull, dragging her up Jiwoo's twitching body. The two of them look at each other, and both of them are convinced they look more ruined than the other, and they try to make things equal, lips crushing against one another, sweat and juices be damned. They go one for one, matching angry red hickeys on their necks before the haze clears.

"That was fucking amazing." All Jiwoo can manage is a rasp, voice in tatters from her cry.

"I'll tell the stylist to give me gloves from now on."

*Bzzzz*

They both hear their phones buzzing, it was time to go.

"Asa?"

"Hm?"

"I can't feel my legs."

"Me neither."

"Let's just lie a little longer then." Asa allows herself to get cuddled for once—Jiwoo's hand running through her hair was kinda nice.

The two of them finally stagger out of the love hotel, no doubt reeking of sex, a patch on their necks barely hiding what they were up to.

"What are you going to tell the members?" The usual question they ask each other.

"Just some guy I met." The usual answer.

"They're gonna ask 'Is he an idol?'" The usual follow-up.

"Maybe." The usual follow-up answer.

"See you next week?"

"Mmhmm."

And no one's the wiser.

The JYP building had emptied out by midnight, leaving only the security lights humming in the hallways. Y/N leaned back in his office chair, loosening his tie, when his phone buzzed with a text that made his pulse skip.

Yeji: Can we talk? My studio. Now.

He'd been their manager for eight months. Three months ago, he'd noticed the way Yeji's eyes lingered on him during schedule briefings — how she found reasons to stand close, to brush against him. Two months ago, Ryujin started finding excuses to be alone with him, her hand resting on his arm a beat too long. Last week, Yeji had pressed her body against his in the storage closet and whispered, "I know you've noticed," her breath warm on his neck.

Tonight, he opened the door to their private practice studio to find both of them waiting.

Yeji sat cross-legged on the floor in gray sweatpants and a cropped tank top, her silver-blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail that swung when she turned to look at him. She had the sharpest cheekbones in the industry and a waist so narrow his hands could circle it twice. Beside her, Ryujin leaned against the mirrored wall in black leggings and an oversized hoodie, her dark hair falling past her shoulders, her sharp jaw set with intention.

"You came," Yeji said, standing.

"Should I not have?"

Ryujin pushed off the wall. "We've been talking." Her voice was lower than Yeji's, rougher at the edges, with a confidence that made his cock twitch. "About what we want. About you."

Yeji stepped closer, and Y/N didn't move. Up close, he could see the pulse beating in her throat, the slight tremor in her hands. "I've had dreams about you," she said. "Ways I want you to touch me."

"Both of us," Ryujin added, closing in from his other side, her body heat pressing against his shoulder. "Together."

Y/N's cock was already thickening in his slacks, straining against the zipper. "You're sure about this?"

Yeji answered by sinking to her knees. Her fingers found his belt buckle with practiced ease, working the leather open, then the button of his slacks. Ryujin moved behind him, her hands sliding over his shoulders, pushing his jacket off, letting it fall to the studio floor.

"Let us take care of you," Ryujin murmured against his ear, her tongue tracing the shell of it.

Yeji pulled his slacks down, and his cock sprang free — thick, heavy, a full nine inches that made her breath catch audibly. "Fuck," she whispered, her delicate fingers wrapping around the base. Her thumb couldn't touch her middle finger around the girth. "It's even bigger than I imagined."

"Show-off," Ryujin laughed from behind him, but her voice had gone breathy too, and he felt her press tighter against his back.

Yeji leaned forward and took the head into her mouth. The heat of her was immediate — wet, eager, her tongue circling the tip before she took him deeper, inch by inch, her throat relaxing to accommodate him until her nose pressed against his pelvis.

"God, Yeji—"

She pulled back, a string of saliva connecting her full lips to his cock, glistening under the fluorescent lights. "Taste good," she said, and went back down with renewed hunger.

Ryujin's hands roamed his chest, undoing his shirt buttons one by one, her nails grazing his nipples, leaving trails of fire. "She's been dreaming about this for weeks. Tell her who's better at sucking cock, she asks me every night."

Yeji's response was to take him deeper, her throat opening around him, and Y/N groaned, his head falling back against Ryujin's shoulder.

"Fuck. Both of you. Get on the mat."

They moved without hesitation. Yeji stripped off her tank top, revealing small, perky breasts with nipples already hard and dark. She shimmied out of her sweatpants, and he saw she wore nothing underneath — her pussy bare, already slick and glistening between her thighs. Ryujin pulled the hoodie over her head and peeled down her leggings, her body lean and toned, every muscle defined from years of grueling choreography. Her small breasts were perfect, tipped with dusky nipples that tightened under his gaze.

They knelt facing each other on the practice mats, and Y/N stood over them, stroking his cock slowly, watching them.

"Show me what you two do when you're alone."

Yeji and Ryujin exchanged a look — something passed between them, a silent conversation — and then Yeji leaned forward and pressed her mouth to Ryujin's. The kiss was slow at first, searching, their lips melding together. Then Ryujin's hand came up to cradle Yeji's jaw, pulling her closer, and the kiss deepened. Their tongues slid together, and Yeji let out a small moan that vibrated through Ryujin's mouth.

"Yeah," Y/N breathed, his hand moving faster on his shaft. "Just like that."

Yeji broke the kiss first, trailing her lips down Ryujin's neck, over her collarbone, down to her chest. She took one of Ryujin's nipples into her mouth, and Ryujin let out a sharp gasp, her head falling back.

"Fuck, Yeji—"

Yeji's hand slid between Ryujin's thighs, found her wet heat, and Ryujin spread her legs wider in invitation, her hips rolling into the touch.

"Tell me what you want," Y/N said.

"I want you inside me," Ryujin said, her voice rough and raw. "But first—I want her to eat my pussy while you fuck her."

The words sent a pulse of heat straight to his cock, which was already dripping pre-cum. "Get on your hands and knees, Yeji."

Yeji complied immediately, turning and presenting herself — her ass curving perfectly, her pussy already glistening wet, her folds swollen and pink. Ryujin lay down beneath her, positioning herself so Yeji's cunt hovered inches above her waiting mouth.

Y/N moved behind Yeji, guiding his cock to her entrance. He rubbed the head through her slick folds, collecting her wetness, watching her shiver.

"Please," Yeji gasped. "Please, I need it."

He pushed in.

Yeji's cry echoed through the studio. She was tight — impossibly tight — her walls clenching around him as he buried himself to the hilt. Her head dropped forward, and she let out a shaky, ragged breath.

"Fuck," she whimpered. "You're so fucking big—"

"Take it," he said, and began to thrust.

Ryujin pulled Yeji's hips down, dragging her cunt to her mouth. The first lick made Yeji jolt, a fresh wave of wetness coating Ryujin's tongue. Ryujin's tongue was flat and warm, licking through her folds while Y/N's cock drove into her from behind.

"Like how she tastes?" Y/N asked, driving deep, feeling Yeji's walls flutter around him.

"Mmph—" Ryujin's response was muffled against Yeji's flesh. She didn't stop, her tongue diving deeper.

Y/N reached forward, grabbing Yeji's hips, planting his feet, and began fucking her in earnest. Each thrust pushed Yeji harder onto Ryujin's mouth, creating a rhythm that had all three of them moaning. His cock slid wetly in and out of Yeji's tight cunt, Ryujin's tongue flicked against Yeji's clit, and Yeji's moans filled the room, bouncing off the mirrored walls.

"I'm close," Yeji gasped. "Fuck, both of you, I'm so close—"

"Cum on my cock," Y/N said. "Cum for both of us."

His hips slammed against her ass, his balls slapping her wet flesh. Yeji's body tensed, her back arching, and she came with a broken scream that echoed through the empty building. Her pussy clenched and fluttered around him, milking his cock.

Y/N didn't stop. He kept thrusting through her orgasm, chasing his own, feeling the familiar pressure building, swelling—

"I'm going to cum inside you."

"Yes, yes, fill me—"

He buried himself deep and unloaded. Hot streaks of cum painted her inner walls, and he kept pumping, emptying every drop into her, his seed filling her completely. Yeji whimpered beneath him, her body still trembling from the force of her orgasm.

When he pulled out, his cum leaked out of her, thick and white, running down her thighs in rivulets.

"Don't waste it," Ryujin said from below. She dragged her fingers through the mess and brought them to her mouth, licking them clean, her eyes never leaving Y/N's.

Y/N's cock was still hard, slick with both of them, glistening under the studio lights. "Ryujin," he said. "Your turn."

She flipped over, spreading her legs wide, offering herself completely. Her pussy was perfect — clean-shaven, pink and wet, her inner thighs flexing with muscle. She reached down and spread her lips with her fingers, showing him exactly where she wanted him.

"Fuck me," she said. "Fuck me like you mean it."

He sank into her in one smooth motion. Ryujin's head snapped back, a guttural moan tearing from her throat as her walls stretched to accommodate him.

"Fuck, you're deep—"

Yeji crawled over, positioning herself beside Ryujin's head, and Ryujin immediately turned to lick her — tasting herself, tasting Y/N's cum that was still leaking from Yeji, sliding her tongue through Yeji's slick folds. Yeji moaned and pressed her cunt harder against Ryujin's mouth.

Y/N set a punishing pace, gripping Ryujin's thighs, watching his cock disappear into her tight body over and over. Her small breasts bounced with each thrust, her eyes rolling back in pleasure.

"Harder," she gasped. "Harder, fuck—"

He drove into her, her wetness making obscene sounds with every stroke. Yeji lowered herself, pressing her pussy fully to Ryujin's mouth, and Ryujin ate her like she was starving, her tongue diving deep.

"Cum in me," Ryujin begged. "Please, I want to feel it—"

Y/N's hips stuttered. He was already oversensitive from the first round, but the sight of them — Ryujin's legs wrapped around his waist, Yeji grinding on her face, both of them lost in pleasure — pushed him over the edge.

He came with a groan, pumping rope after rope into her, filling her until it leaked around his cock, dripping onto the practice mat beneath them.

Ryujin's orgasm hit a moment later, triggered by his cum flooding her, by Yeji's clit pressed against her tongue, by everything. Her body convulsed beneath him, her pussy clenching rhythmically as she cried out.

They collapsed together, a mess of sweat and cum and tangled limbs, breathing hard. Yeji pressed a kiss to Ryujin's forehead, then turned and pressed her lips to Y/N's mouth.

"We're not done," she whispered against his lips. "Not even close."

---

The next two weeks became a blur of secret meetings. Every night after schedules ended, Yeji and Ryujin found their way to him — his apartment, their hotel rooms on tour, once even a storage closet during a fan meeting break where he fucked Yeji standing up while Ryujin knelt and licked her clit.

They grew bolder. Needier. The first threesome had unlocked something deep in both of them, and they no longer pretended otherwise. During dance rehearsals, Ryujin would catch his eye in the mirror and give him a look that made his cock ache. During interviews, Yeji would press her foot against his calf under the table, her face perfectly composed while her eyes told him everything.

In his bedroom, on a Tuesday night, Yeji straddled him, his cock buried inside her as she rode him slow and deep. Ryujin knelt beside them, her mouth on Yeji's nipple, her fingers working her own clit in tight circles, watching them.

"Whose cock is better than mine?" Y/N groaned, gripping Yeji's hips, feeling her ride him.

"Yours," Yeji breathed. "Only yours."

"Tell Ryujin."

Yeji looked down at Ryujin, whose mouth was still latched to her breast, sucking hard. "His is better. Bigger. Thicker. Fills me so fucking good—"

Ryujin pulled off with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting her lip to Yeji's nipple. "Prove it."

Yeji's pace quickened, her ass slapping against his thighs, the sound wet and rhythmic. Her pussy gripped him like a fist, her wetness dripping down his shaft, soaking his balls.

"Look at her," Y/N said to Ryujin. "She's made for this. For taking my cock."

"I'm made for it too," Ryujin said, her voice competitive, hungry. "She's not the only one."

"Then show me."

Ryujin swung her leg over his chest, straddling his face. Her pussy hovered over his mouth, already dripping, and he extended his tongue, meeting her slick flesh. The taste of her hit him — sweet and sharp, her arousal coating his tongue as he lapped at her clit. She gasped, her hips bucking against his face, grinding down on him.

"Fuck—" Ryujin's head dropped forward, her hair falling around her face. "Yes, right there—"

Yeji continued riding him, her pace slowing as she watched, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "You like watching her use his mouth?"

"Shut up and ride him," Ryujin snapped, but there was no heat in it — just desperate pleasure.

Y/N's tongue circled Ryujin's clit, then flicked hard, making her cry out. He reached up with one hand, pressing two fingers into her wet heat, curling them just right, finding that spot inside her.

"Cum for me," he said against her flesh. "Cum on my tongue."

Ryujin obeyed. Her orgasm hit her fast, her thighs clamping around his head as she shuddered above him, soaking his face with her release, her juices running down his chin.

Yeji chose that moment to clamp down on his cock, her own climax triggered by the sight and sound of Ryujin coming undone. Y/N groaned into Ryujin's cunt as he felt Yeji's pussy milking him, her walls squeezing rhythmically.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum again—"

"Fill me," Yeji begged, bouncing harder. "Please, fill me, fill me—"

He bucked up into her, releasing another load deep inside her, his seed pumping into her in hot pulses. Yeji collapsed forward onto Ryujin, their mouths meeting in a hungry kiss, sharing the taste of him between them.

When they broke apart, Ryujin pressed her forehead to Yeji's, both panting. "You think he got you pregnant yet?"

Yeji's eyes went wide. "What?"

"Don't act innocent." Ryujin's hand slid down Yeji's stomach, pressing against the skin where Y/N's cum was leaking out. "That's three loads this week alone. He's trying to breed us."

Y/N pulled out, his cock still hard, glistening with their combined wetness. "And if I am?"

Ryujin crawled toward him, her hand wrapping around his shaft, her fingers barely meeting around the girth. "Then keep trying. Because I want it too."

She lowered her mouth onto him, taking him to the back of her throat without flinching, without gagging. Her throat relaxed and accepted all of him. Yeji watched, her fingers trailing through the cum leaking from her own pussy, bringing them to her lips and tasting.

"You've got competition," Yeji said.

"Competition?" Ryujin pulled off with a pop. "I can deepthroat him longer than you."

"Prove it."

What followed became their new ritual — competing for his cock. Ryujin took him deep, holding until tears streamed down her cheeks, her throat working around him. Yeji countered with speed, her tongue doing things that made his toes curl and his vision blur. They took turns, each trying to outdo the other, their mouths hot and wet and hungry, their lips red and swollen.

"Who's better?" Y/N asked, his hand fisting in Yeji's hair, holding her still.

"Me," Ryujin said, licking the underside of his cock from base to tip, her tongue tracing the thick vein.

"I am," Yeji countered, sucking the head between her lips, hollowing her cheeks.

"Only one way to settle this," Y/N said. "Both of you. On the bed. On your backs."

They scrambled into position, eager and wet, their bodies glistening with sweat. Y/N knelt between them, his cock hard, his cum still wet on their faces and thighs. He reached for Yeji first, sliding into her wet heat, fucking her slow and deep while his fingers worked Ryujin's clit.

"That's not fair," Ryujin whined, her hips bucking against his hand. "I want you inside me."

"Wait your turn."

He fucked Yeji until she came again, her walls convulsing around him, then pulled out and slid into Ryujin in one motion. She gasped, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper.

"Fuck—I love your cock—"

"Ride me," he said, flipping onto his back. Ryujin straddled him immediately, sinking down, taking all of him. She set a brutal pace, her hips slamming against his, her small breasts bouncing wildly.

Yeji crawled behind Ryujin, pressing her body to Ryujin's back, her hands sliding up to cup those bouncing breasts. She kissed Ryujin's neck, her shoulder, her spine, biting gently.

"You're taking him so well," Yeji murmured against Ryujin's skin. "So deep."

"He feels so good—"

Yeji's hand slid down Ryujin's stomach, finding her clit, pressing and circling. "Let me help."

Ryujin's rhythm stuttered. Yeji's fingers pressed and circled, working her in tandem with Y/N's cock, double stimulation that had Ryujin crying out.

"Cum for him," Yeji whispered. "Cum on his cock."

Ryujin shattered, crying out, her pussy convulsing around him, her juices flooding his cock. Y/N waited until she came down, then flipped her onto her back, driving into her again without pulling out.

"One more," he said. "One more for me."

"Fill me," she gasped. "Please, I want it—"

He came with a groan, pumping deep inside her, holding her hips down so nothing could escape, so every drop stayed buried in her.

Later, as they lay tangled in his sheets, Yeji's hand rested on her stomach, pressing against the skin. "How many loads do you think it takes?"

"To what?" Ryujin asked.

"To get pregnant."

Ryujin's hand joined Yeji's, covering her stomach. "We'll find out."

Y/N pulled them both closer, his arms around their warm bodies. "However many it takes."

---

Day 12 of what had become an obsession. Ryujin knelt on the floor of his apartment, her mouth stretched around his cock, bobbing slowly. Yeji was beside her, licking his balls, her tongue tracing wet patterns across the sensitive skin, taking each one into her mouth in turn.

"You've been insatiable lately," Y/N said, his voice tight, his hands in their hair.

"Can't help it," Ryujin said, pulling off just long enough to speak. "Every time you cum inside me, I want more."

"Same," Yeji agreed, taking his balls into her mouth again, sucking gently.

Ryujin deepthroated him again, taking him to the root, her nose pressed against his pelvis, and he felt his control slip. He came down her throat, his cock pulsing, and she swallowed every drop, her throat working around him.

"The fourth time today," Yeji said, impressed.

"Fifth, if you count the one this morning."

Yeji climbed onto his lap, guiding his still-hard cock into her wet heat. She rode him slow, her mouth finding Ryujin's, their kisses wet and deep as Y/N watched them.

"You think they know?" Ryujin asked between kisses. "The company?"

"Don't care," Yeji breathed.

"They'll find out eventually."

"Then we'll deal with it."

Y/N thrust up into Yeji, and she moaned against Ryujin's mouth, her hips grinding down on him.

"Until then," Y/N said, gripping her hips, "I'm not pulling out."

---

By week three, Y/N had become addicted. Not just to their bodies — though God knew that was enough — but to the power of it. Two of the most beautiful women in K-pop, their faces known to millions of fans worldwide, kneeling for him on his apartment floor, begging for his cum, competing for his attention like his approval was the only thing that mattered.

And he wanted the world to know.

It started small. A photo of Yeji in his bed, her face hidden by the sheets, but her naked body unmistakable to anyone who knew her — the curve of her hip, the tattoo on her lower back, the silver-blonde hair splayed across his pillow. He posted it to a private account, a burner with no followers he knew personally.

The response was immediate. Hundreds of comments. Thousands of likes. Men recognizing her, women praising her body, people speculating about who she was. The validation was intoxicating.

He showed it to them the next night.

"I posted this," he said, turning his phone toward them.

Yeji's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes going wide. "Are you insane?"

"No one can prove it's you," he said. "But look at the response. They want you. They want both of you."

Ryujin took the phone, scrolling through the comments, her expression unreadable. Her thumb moved slowly, reading each one.

"They're saying she has a perfect body," Ryujin said quietly. "What would they say about me?"

"Something better," Y/N said. "If you want."

That night, he took photos of Ryujin on her knees, his cock in her mouth, her dark eyes looking up at the camera with hungry submission. Yeji in the background, naked, watching, her fingers between her own legs.

He posted it.

The reaction was nuclear.

Within hours, the photos had spread beyond the private account. Someone had screenshotted them. Posted them to Twitter. To Korean forums. To international fan sites. The comments exploded.

Is that ITZY's Ryujin?

No way. That's definitely Yeji in the background.

They're both sucking the same guy's dick?

Who is he?

I recognize that tattoo on Yeji's hip from their last comeback.

Holy shit. It's really them.

By morning, Dispatch was calling JYP Entertainment. By noon, Y/N's phone was ringing with his boss's name flashing on the screen.

"What the fuck did you do?"

"It's not—"

"Don't. Don't lie to me. We have confirmation. The tattoos on Yeji's hip. The mole on Ryujin's back. It's them. You've ruined them. You've ruined this company."

---

The agency meeting was held in the conference room where Y/N had first introduced himself to ITZY as their new manager. The contrast was brutal. That first day had been full of promise — four years of training, their debut, their first music show win. Now everything was ash.

Yeji sat on one side of the table, her eyes red-rimmed, her hands clasped in her lap like she was holding herself together by sheer force of will. Ryujin sat beside her, her jaw tight, her knee bouncing under the table, her fists clenched.

Across from them sat the agency president, the head of PR, and two lawyers in sharp suits.

"Your contracts are terminated," the president said, not looking at them, shuffling papers. "Both of you. Effective immediately. You've brought incalculable damage to this company and to the other members."

"It wasn't them," Y/N said, stepping forward. "It was me. I took the photos. I posted them."

"You're fired too, obviously. But that doesn't undo what's been done. The damage is done. There's no coming back from this."

Yeji finally spoke, her voice hoarse and broken. "What about our families? They're going to see—"

"Should have thought of that before you let him film it. Before you let him fuck you. Before you threw away everything we built for you."

Ryujin stood up, her chair scraping against the floor. "Don't talk to her like that. We're sitting right here. We're human beings."

"Then speak. Explain this to me." The president leaned forward, his eyes cold. "Explain how two of the most promising idols in the industry threw everything away for a manager's cock."

The words hung in the air like poison. Yeji's face crumpled. Ryujin's hands clenched into fists so tight her knuckles went white.

"I'd explain it to you," Yeji said, her voice shaking but clear, "but you wouldn't understand. It wasn't his cock. It was him. It was—" She looked at Y/N, her expression breaking open. "It was love."

The president laughed. A hollow, cruel sound. "Love. You threw away your careers for love."

"We didn't throw away anything," Ryujin said. "We chose."

"And now you'll face the consequences."

---

The backlash was worse than any of them imagined.

Korean netizens tore them apart. #ITZYGATE trended for three days straight across every platform. Every news outlet ran the story. Pundits analyzed it on television. Comedians joked about it on late-night shows. The comments were relentless.

Sluts. That's what they are.

I can't believe I bought their albums and supported them.

Manager oppa must have a magic dick to make them throw away their careers like this.

Disgusting. Pure disgusting.

Yeji especially. She was the leader. She was supposed to be the role model. She should have known better.

Ryujin always had that vibe. Not surprised she turned out like this.

They deserve everything coming to them.

The hate comments bled into their personal phones. Their private numbers were leaked. Their families started receiving calls from journalists and strangers. Yeji's mother called her crying, unable to understand. Ryujin's brother got into a physical fight at his job defending her.

They moved into Y/N's apartment the day after the agency announcement. There was nowhere else to go. Their dorm was no longer theirs. Their bank accounts were frozen pending contract termination reviews.

Yeji sat on his bathroom floor that night, her knees pulled to her chest, staring at her phone with dead eyes. Her private Instagram — the one her mother followed, the one where she used to post selcas and behind-the-scenes photos — was flooded with hate. Thousands of comments. Death threats. Slurs.

"It says I should kill myself," she said quietly.

Y/N knelt beside her, taking the phone from her hands gently. "Don't read that. Don't look at that."

"Everyone hates us."

"No."

"They do. You saw the articles. You saw the comments. We're ruined. Everything we worked for since we were trainees — gone."

Ryujin appeared in the doorway. She looked smaller than she had a week ago, her confidence stripped away, her shoulders hunched. But her eyes still held fire.

"We're not ruined," she said. "We're free."

"Free to do what?" Yeji's voice cracked. "We can't perform. We can't even leave this apartment without being photographed and mocked."

Ryujin stepped into the bathroom, lowering herself to the floor beside them, wrapping her arms around Yeji. "Free to be together. Free to not hide anymore. Free to love each other without sneaking around."

"I never wanted to hide," Yeji whispered. "I wanted to be wanted. I wanted him to want me. I wanted you to want me. And now the whole world knows, and the whole world hates me for it."

Y/N pulled her into his arms, and she came willingly, her body shaking against his. "The whole world can burn," he said.

---

That night, they didn't touch each other at first. They just lay in his bed, Yeji in the middle, Ryujin curled behind her, Y/N in front. The silence was heavy, punctuated only by traffic outside and the occasional sniffle.

But in the darkness, Yeji's hand found his cock.

"Make me forget," she whispered.

"Yeji—"

"Please. Just for tonight. Make me forget everything except how you feel inside me."

He rolled onto her, and she spread her legs wide. There was no foreplay, no teasing. He pushed into her and she gasped, her nails digging into his back, her wetness welcoming him immediately.

Ryujin pressed against Yeji from behind, her hand reaching between them to guide his thrusts, her body pressed warm against Yeji's back.

"It's okay," Ryujin murmured against her ear. "We're here. We have each other."

Y/N fucked Yeji slow and deep, each stroke a reminder that they were still alive, still together, still burning. She came quietly, tears streaming down her face, her body shuddering through the release. He came inside her, holding her close, his forehead pressed to hers.

Then Ryujin took his place, straddling him, riding him with desperate need until she too came undone.

In the aftermath, they lay together, their bodies tangled, their futures uncertain, the weight of everything pressing down on them.

"Marry us," Yeji said into the darkness.

The words hung in the air.

"What?"

"If they're going to hate us anyway. If our careers are over anyway. If we've already lost everything." She turned to face him, her eyes glistening. "Marry us. Both of us."

Ryujin lifted her head, looking at Yeji, then at Y/N. Something passed between them. "She's right. We can't go back. But we can go forward. Together."

Y/N looked at them — these two women who had given up everything for him. Who had lost their careers, their reputations, their futures. Who still wanted him despite everything.

"People will hate you even more."

"Let them."

"They'll say you're whores. Sluts. That you deserve everything that happened to you."

"I don't care what they say," Yeji said, her voice steady for the first time all night. "I care about what I feel. And I feel safe here. With both of you."

"Then yes," Y/N said. "I'll marry you. Both of you."

In the darkness, Yeji kissed him, her lips soft and salty with tears. Then Ryujin kissed him, harder, more certain. And then they kissed each other, a promise sealed in the dark.

The future was uncertain. The hate would continue. But in that moment, none of it mattered.

---

The wedding was not a fairy tale. There was no white dress, no crowded venue, no proud parents watching. They signed papers in a small registry office in a district where no one recognized them, wearing the nicest clothes they still owned — Yeji in a simple white blouse and skirt, Ryujin in a black dress that hugged her curves, Y/N in the only suit he had left.

The clerk raised an eyebrow at the arrangement — one man, two brides — but said nothing. In Korea, the paperwork was complicated. They had to list one marriage as legal, the other as a private ceremony. They chose Yeji as the legal wife, but in their hearts, all three of them were bound equally.

That night, they celebrated in a rented room above a convenience store. The wallpaper was peeling. The bed sagged in the middle. A single naked bulb hung from the ceiling.

"I'm sorry," Y/N said, looking around at the cheap furniture. "You deserved better."

"Shut up," Ryujin said, pushing him onto the bed. "You're ours now. That's all we wanted."

Yeji climbed onto the bed beside them, producing a bottle of cheap champagne from her bag. "We have booze. We have a bed. We have each other." She smiled — the first real smile in weeks. "What else matters?"

She popped the cork, and champagne fizzed over her hands. She licked it off her wrist slowly, her eyes meeting Y/N's, then Ryujin's.

"Take off your clothes," she said. "Both of you."

They obeyed. The room was dim, lit only by a single lamp, but in the amber light, they looked like gods. Yeji's silver hair caught the glow. Ryujin's dark eyes reflected it, hungry and wanting.

Y/N's wife — his first wife — crawled toward him, her small breasts swaying, her nipples already hard. "Tonight," she said, "we consummate this properly."

"And properly means?" he asked.

"You fill both of us. Until we're dripping with you. Until there's no question who we belong to."

Ryujin knelt beside her, her hand stroking his already hard cock. "And then you do it again."

Y/N reached for them both, pulling them into his arms. His mouth found Yeji's first — soft, familiar, tasting of champagne and something sweeter. Then Ryujin's — harder, hungrier, more urgent.

They laid him back on the bed, and they took turns worshiping his body. Yeji kissed down his chest, her tongue circling each nipple, tracing the lines of his muscles. Ryujin took his cock into her mouth, bobbing slowly, her eyes locked on his, her tongue working the underside.

"I want to watch you fuck her," Ryujin said, pulling off with a wet sound. "I want to watch her take every inch."

Yeji straddled him, reaching down to guide him inside her. They both moaned as he filled her, her tight heat enveloping him completely, her walls gripping him.

"God," she breathed. "I'll never get used to this."

"I hope you don't," Ryujin said, moving behind her. She pressed against Yeji's back, her hands cupping Yeji's breasts, her mouth on her neck. "I hope it always feels like the first time."

Yeji began to move, rolling her hips, taking him deep. Ryujin's hands roamed her body — her stomach, her thighs, finding her clit and rubbing in slow circles that made Yeji gasp.

"Fuck—" Yeji's head fell back against Ryujin's shoulder. "That's—"

"Ride him," Ryujin whispered. "Cum on his cock."

Yeji's pace quickened. Her breasts bounced, and Ryujin caught one in her mouth, sucking hard. Yeji's cry was strangled, her body shuddering as she came, her pussy clenching around him.

When she collapsed forward, Y/N was still hard inside her, not done.

"My turn," Ryujin said.

She pushed Yeji gently aside and straddled him, sinking onto his cock with practiced ease. She set a punishing rhythm, her thighs slapping against his hips, her wetness coating him.

"You feel that?" she asked, her voice rough with need. "Feel how wet I am? How much I need you?"

Y/N groaned, gripping her hips. "I feel it."

"I'm never going to let you go," she said, riding him harder. "Neither of us is. You're stuck with us, husband."

"I'm not complaining."

She leaned down, kissing him deeply, her hips never stopping. Yeji pressed against her from behind, her fingers finding Ryujin's clit, stroking in time with her movements, adding to the pleasure.

"Cum for him," Yeji murmured. "Let him feel you."

Ryujin broke the kiss, gasping, her body tensing. She came with a shudder, her pussy clenching around him, and he followed her, filling her with his cum, pumping deep inside her.

They traded positions until the early hours. Yeji on top, then Ryujin, then both of them together — one riding his cock while the other rode his face, their moans filling the cheap room. Yeji licked Ryujin's clit while Y/N fucked her from behind. Ryujin ate Yeji's pussy while Yeji took Y/N's cock in her mouth. They took turns, they competed, they kissed each other through orgasms, sharing the taste of him between their mouths.

By dawn, they were a mess of dried cum, sweat, and cheap champagne. Yeji's pussy was swollen and red, Ryujin's thighs were slick with multiple loads, and Y/N's cock was still half-hard despite the marathon.

"We should sleep," Y/N said.

"Five more minutes," Ryujin mumbled, her head on his chest.

"Hour," Yeji corrected, curling into his side.

He wrapped his arms around them and let the exhaustion take him, listening to their soft breathing, feeling their warmth against his skin.

---

Three weeks later, Yeji woke him at 4 AM, shaking.

"I missed my period."

Ryujin stirred beside her, blinking in the darkness. "What?"

"My period. I missed it."

The air in the room changed. Y/N sat up, suddenly wide awake, his heart pounding.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm never late. Never." Her hand pressed to her stomach, flat and smooth. "I think—I think you did it."

Ryujin sat up too, her eyes wide. She reached for Yeji's hand, squeezing it. "We should get a test."

The convenience store run at 4 AM was absurd. Y/N bought three different brands, just to be sure, the clerk giving him an odd look. They waited in the bathroom together, the three of them crowded around the sink, watching the tests develop.

Two lines. Three times.

Yeji looked up at them, her eyes wet with tears. "I'm pregnant."

Ryujin burst into tears, pulling Yeji into a hug. Y/N wrapped his arms around both of them, his throat tight.

"We're having a baby," Yeji whispered.

"We're having a baby," Ryujin corrected, laughing through her tears. "All of us."

---

The pregnancy changed everything. Yeji's body began to transform — her breasts grew fuller, heavier, her nipples darkened. Her hips widened. Her appetite increased. But her sex drive became insatiable, her hormones raging.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Y/N said one evening, kneeling between her legs. Her belly had just begun to swell, a soft curve that made his heart ache.

"Then show me."

He lowered his mouth to her pussy, licking slowly, savoring her. She was more sensitive now — every touch made her gasp, every stroke brought her closer to the edge faster.

"I don't want to hurt the baby," he said against her wet flesh.

"You won't. The doctor said it's safe." She grabbed his hair, pulling him closer. "And I need you inside me."

He climbed over her, guiding himself inside her carefully. She was wetter than usual, her body welcoming him, her walls gripping him.

"Slow," she breathed. "Slow and deep."

He moved at her pace, each thrust measured, deliberate. Her moans filled the room, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails leaving crescents in his skin.

"I can feel you," she whispered. "So deep. The baby can feel you too."

"Yeji—"

"Don't stop."

He came inside her, and she came around him, her body trembling, her belly pressed against his.

Later, Ryujin took his place beside Yeji. She kissed Yeji's belly, pressing her lips to the growing curve, then looked up at Y/N. "When it's my turn, I want that."

He knelt beside her, his hand on her still-flat stomach. "It will happen."

"It better. I want to be as beautiful as she is."

"You already are."

---

Ryujin's pregnancy came two months later — confirmed in the same bathroom, with the same tears, the same three positive tests.

Now there were two swollen bellies in his bed, two women who glowed with the life he'd planted inside them. And they wanted him more than ever.

"Come here," Yeji said one night, patting the bed between them. "We want to feel you."

He lay down, and they pressed against him, their bellies soft and round, their hands finding his.

"Rub my feet," Ryujin demanded.

"Kiss my belly," Yeji countered.

He did both, laughing. But when his mouth found Yeji's stomach, her breath caught.

"Don't stop."

He kissed lower, finding her wet heat through her maternity leggings. She spread her legs, and he pulled them down, burying his face between her thighs.

"Oh, fuck—"

Ryujin watched, her hand sliding between her own legs, her fingers finding her clit. "Make her come. I want to watch."

He licked Yeji's clit until she came undone, her juices coating his tongue, then turned to Ryujin, doing the same, tasting her.

"Mine's more sensitive," Ryujin gasped. "Since I got pregnant—fuck, right there—"

"You're both perfect," he said, his mouth never stopping. "Both beautiful. Both carrying my children."

They pulled him up, positioning him between them. Yeji's legs wrapped around his waist, guiding him inside her. Ryujin's hand found his balls, cradling them.

"One for each of us," Ryujin said. "Now you have to breed us forever."

He moved inside Yeji, slow and deep, while Ryujin pressed against them both, her mouth on his neck, her hand working her own clit.

"I love you," he said.

"We love you too," they answered together.

He came inside Yeji, then moved to Ryujin, sliding into her wet heat, filling her too. In the quiet aftermath, their hands found his, resting on their bellies, feeling the life inside them.

"This is the beginning," Yeji said.

"The beginning of everything," Ryujin agreed.

---

The apartment changed as the pregnancies progressed. Baby clothes appeared in corners. A crib materialized in what used to be the guest room. Prenatal vitamins lined the kitchen counter. But the sex never stopped.

In the seventh month of Yeji's pregnancy, she woke him with a hand on his cock, stroking him to hardness.

"Take me to the shower," she said. "And don't be gentle."

The shower was small, but they made it work — her palms against the tiles, her belly curving beneath her, his cock sliding into her from behind.

"Harder," she demanded. "Fuck me harder."

"You're seven months pregnant—"

"That doesn't mean I'm made of glass." She pushed back against him. "Fuck me."

He grabbed her hips and did as she asked, driving into her. The water streamed over them, steam filling the bathroom, her moans echoing off the tiles.

"I love your pregnant body," he said, reaching around to cup her heavy, sensitive breasts. "These especially."

She laughed, breathless. "They're so sensitive. Suck them."

He bent forward, his cock still buried inside her, and reached around to bring her nipple to his mouth. She gasped as he sucked, her hips pushing back against him, her wetness coating his cock.

"Fuck—I'm going to come—"

"Cum for me."

She did, her body shuddering against the tiles, and he followed, pumping his seed into her.

When they emerged from the shower, Ryujin was waiting in bed, her own belly rounding nicely in her fifth month.

"Show-off," she said, smiling.

"You're next."

---

Ryujin's turn came that afternoon. She was on top, which was getting harder with her growing belly, but she refused to let it stop her.

"I want to feel you this deep," she said, lowering herself onto him. "I want to feel every inch."

"You're incredible."

"I know."

She rode him with determination, her hands braced on his chest, her belly brushing against his. Yeji came up behind her, pressing kisses to her shoulders, her hands cupping Ryujin's swollen breasts.

"You're so beautiful like this," Yeji murmured. "Pregnant. Full of his cum."

"Cum," Ryujin repeated, the word making her clench around him. "I want more. I want you to keep filling me."

"Until you're bursting," Y/N said, thrusting up into her.

"Yes—fuck, yes—"

She came with a violent shudder, and he spilled inside her, the warmth spreading through her core.

Later, they lay in a pile, their bodies intertwined. Yeji's hand rested on her belly. Ryujin's rested on hers.

"Two babies," Yeji said. "Two of us. One of him."

"Perfect math," Ryujin agreed.

"There's only one thing that would make this better."

"What's that?"

Yeji turned to Y/N, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I want to watch you eat her out while I feel your cock in my mouth."

The night stretched on. He ate Ryujin's pussy until she came twice, her juices flooding his mouth, while Yeji deepthroated him on the other side, taking all of him. Then Yeji knelt over Ryujin's face, riding her tongue while Y/N took her from behind. They were insatiable, beautiful, hungry.

They were his.

---

Yeji gave birth to a daughter in the spring. The labor was long and hard, and Y/N held her hand through every contraction, whispering encouragement while Ryujin held her other hand.

Their daughter was perfect — ten fingers, ten toes, a full head of silver-blonde hair like her mother's.

Ryujin followed two months later with a son. Dark-haired like her, with his father's eyes.

The apartment became chaos — diapers, bottles, sleepless nights, crying fits at 3 AM. But the hate had died down. People forgot. Scandals faded. The world moved on to the next outrage.

They found a small house outside the city, where no one recognized them. Where they could walk in the garden with their children and not worry about cameras or comments or the industry that had cast them out.

One night, after the babies were finally asleep, they sat on the porch, watching the stars. Yeji leaned against Y/N's shoulder, the baby monitor on the table beside her. Ryujin sat at his other side, her hand in his.

"Would you do it again?" Yeji asked. "If you knew what would happen? If you knew we'd lose everything?"

Y/N looked at them — his wives, his children's mothers, the two women who had burned their careers to ash to be with him. Their faces were softer now, fuller, marked by motherhood and time. But their eyes held the same fire that had started this all those months ago in a practice studio.

"Every time."

Ryujin leaned against him. "Good answer."

"Now take us to bed," Yeji said. "The babies won't wake for at least four hours."

"And what do you want?"

Both of them looked at him with the same hunger, the same need, the same love.

"Everything," they said together.

The penthouse apartment smelled like vanilla candles and the faint trace of Momo’s favorite perfume. Soft city lights twinkled through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, but the real warmth came from the woman beside me on the oversized couch. Momo had pulled me close the moment I walked in after my long day, her arms wrapping around me like I was the most precious thing in her world. As her sugar baby, I had gotten used to the gifts, the dinners, and the way she looked at me like I belonged to her. But it was the affection that always got me the most—how she made me feel safe and wanted.

“You worked so hard today, baby,” she murmured, kissing my temple. Her voice was soft and sweet, the kind that always melted me. She wore a silky white robe that barely contained her full breasts, the tie loose enough to show deep cleavage. I rested my head against her shoulder, breathing her in.

Momo tilted my chin up gently and kissed me. It started tender, her lips moving slowly against mine, but soon her tongue slipped in, deepening it with that familiar hunger. I hummed into her mouth, hands sliding around her waist. She pulled me onto her lap, straddling her thighs so I faced her.

“Mommy’s missed her boy,” she whispered against my lips, fingers already working on the buttons of my shirt. “Let me take care of you tonight. All of you.”

I nodded, heart racing. “Yes, Mommy.”

She smiled. that bright, loving smile that made her eyes crinkle. and pushed my shirt open. Her hands roamed my chest, her nails lightly scratching as she leaned in and sucked a mark right below my collarbone. The possessive sting made me groan. Momo loved marking me—little reminders that I was hers. She created another on my neck, then lower on my chest, sucking and biting gently while her hand slipped down to palm me through my pants.

“So hard already for Mommy,” she cooed, squeezing me. “Such a good boy.”

She freed my cock, wrapping her soft hand around it and stroking slowly. Her grip was perfect, twisting at the head on every upstroke. I leaned back slightly, watching her full breasts move as she jerked me. Momo noticed my gaze and smiled wider.

“You want them, don’t you?” She untied her robe and let it fall open, revealing her beautiful, heavy tits. “Come here, baby.”

She pulled me closer and wrapped her breasts around my cock, squeezing them together. The soft, warm pressure was incredible. Momo started moving, sliding her tits up and down my shaft in a slow titfuck. The head of my cock peeked out between them with every upward stroke, slick with precum.

“Fuck… Mommy, that feels so good,” I groaned, hips twitching.

“Language, baby,” she teased, but her eyes were dark with lust. She leaned down and licked the tip every time it appeared, swirling her tongue around it. “Mommy’s tits are all yours. Use them.”

I couldn’t help thrusting gently between them. She held them tighter, speeding up while looking up at me with pure affection mixed with heat. The sight of my cock disappearing between her perfect breasts, her tongue catching every drop of precum—it was almost too much. She moaned softly, clearly enjoying it as much as I was.

After several minutes, she pulled back and stood, taking my hand. “Bedroom. I need more of you.”

We moved to her luxurious bedroom, the big bed already turned down. Momo pushed me gently onto my back and climbed over me, kissing down my body. She left more possessive marks along my stomach and hips, sucking hard enough to leave red blooms that would remind me of her for days. Then she took my cock into her mouth.

Her blowjob was loving and thorough—long, slow sucks mixed with fast bobs of her head. Spit ran down my shaft as she worked me deep, humming around me. “You taste so sweet for Mommy,” she murmured when she pulled off to catch her breath, stroking me fast with her slick hand. “Gonna make you feel so good tonight.”

She moved up, straddling my face. “Your turn, baby. Eat Mommy’s pussy.”

I gripped her thighs and licked her eagerly, tongue sliding between her wet folds. She was soaked. I sucked on her clit, then pushed my tongue inside her, tasting her sweetness. Momo moaned loudly, grinding against my face while one hand played with her own nipple. I added two fingers, curling them just right as I licked and sucked.

“Yes… just like that, good boy,” she praised, voice breathy. “Make Mommy cum.”

Her hips moved faster. I fingered her deeper, sucking hard on her clit until she cried out and squirted. Warm wetness flooded my tongue and chin as she trembled above me, thighs shaking around my head. I kept licking her through it, gentle now, until she finally lifted off, breathing hard.

She kissed me messily, tasting herself on my lips. “Such a good boy for Mommy.”

Momo positioned herself over my cock and sank down slowly, taking me inside her tight heat. We both moaned as she bottomed out. She rode me in steady bounces, breasts swaying beautifully. I reached up to squeeze them, pinching her nipples while she moved.

“Mommy’s pussy feels perfect,” I whispered.

She smiled and leaned down, kissing me as she ground deeper. “All for you, baby. This pussy belongs to my favorite boy.”

After riding me for a while, she turned around into reverse cowgirl. The view of her ass bouncing on my cock was incredible. She reached back, spreading herself so I could watch every inch sliding in and out. I thrust up to meet her, making her moan louder.

We switched again. This time she lay on her back and pulled me on top. I thrust into her in missionary, deep and slow at first, then faster. Momo wrapped her legs around me, heels digging into my back. She left more marks on my shoulders with her nails and mouth, possessive and loving.

“Cum inside Mommy,” she whispered hotly in my ear. “Fill me up. I want to feel it leaking out later.”

The words pushed me over. I buried myself deep and came hard, thick ropes flooding her pussy. Momo clenched around me, cumming again with a sweet cry. We stayed connected, kissing softly until I softened.

But she wasn’t finished. She pushed me back gently and crawled between my legs, taking my sensitive cock into her mouth again to clean me. Then she pressed her tits together around me once more, stroking and licking until I was hard again. This time she jerked me fast between her breasts, looking up at me.

“Cum on Mommy’s tits, baby. Mark them like I marked you.”

I groaned and did exactly that, painting her full breasts and neck with fresh cum. Momo moaned happily, rubbing it into her skin a little like she loved wearing it.

We cleaned up together in the big bathroom, laughing softly at how messy we both were. Back in bed, Momo pulled me into her arms under the soft sheets. I rested my head on her chest, right between her breasts, while she stroked my hair and back.

“You’re mine, you know that?” she whispered, kissing the marks she had left on my neck. “My sweet sugar baby. Mommy will always take care of you.”

“I know,” I murmured, cuddling closer. “I love being yours.”

We talked quietly for a long time—about her day with TWICE, my studies, silly things that made us laugh. Her fingers traced every mark she had left on me, possessive but so gentle. I felt completely loved, completely hers. The city lights glowed outside, but nothing compared to the warmth of her body against mine.

Momo eventually drifted off with me in her arms, one leg thrown over me, holding me tight even in sleep. I stayed awake a little longer, listening to her steady heartbeat and feeling the pleasant ache from all her marks and the incredible sex.

Being Momo’s sugar baby wasn’t just about the luxury or the pleasure. It was the way she made me feel cherished every single time. Her love, her dominance, and her soft aftercare made every night with her feel like home. I kissed her skin softly and finally closed my eyes, safe and satisfied in my sugar mommy’s embrace.

Nobody notices. They don't really care. It's a hot, humid summer night. They're preoccupied with getting rid of all the beer before it gets warm. Still, a few eyes turn your way when you start mumbling at each other.

"Third time's the charm", she whispers. You look at her, eyebrows kinked. "Don't give me that look."

"Why not?", you whisper back. "That's all it takes, huh?"

She licks her lips. It's been a long day. You got here in the afternoon — you walked around for an hour to find a nice, somewhat secluded spot. You rolled logs so they'd be closer to the shore. You all went into the water to watch the sun dip below the horizon. 

You're not watching anymore. You've slowly moved closer to her, wading deeper into the lake, pressing up against her with your hands linked behind her neck.

Her fingers tap against your ass. She doesn't know what she's hoping for, really — that you'll have sex with her, right then and there, while surrounded by your friends? Surely not. She'll have to wait until you're inside your tent.

"Let's get out of the water", she says, her nose pressed against your forehead. "It's getting late."

"It's, like, 8pm."

A weekend by the lake. It was a collective effort, an idea pitched by Wanda during a movie night. You were watching a comedy movie from your childhood, one you all remember fondly. With none of you being financially equipped to buy a lake house (except for Tony, who stood his ground when saying no), you decided to do the next best thing: dig out your old tents and drive to the nearest lake.

"That is late", she argues. Her voice dips a little more. "I'm going to lick you dry, just so you know."

You scoff and splash a handful of water at her. She laughs and pulls you in again, tasting sweet and a little earthy when she kisses you.

You do eventually make it out of the water. You're shivering, and Natasha grabs her vintage Knicks hoodie to put it on you. The campfire is still lit, crackling and lighting up the surrounding patch of sand. 

"To warm up", Clint says, passing around a flask. "Who's helping me with my tent?"

You sip on the liquor, leaning into Natasha's side. "Not us", she says. "We got our own to put up."

"We?", he repeats. "You're staying in the same tent?"

You smirk against the mouth of the flask. The last time you did something like this — spend the night cramped into Steve's tiny dorm — you woke everyone up. Surprise, you got kicked out, too.

"Oh, come on", Natasha grins. "When we talked about coming here, you sounded very excited about the 'sounds of nature.' Don't complain now."

"Romanoff..."

Wanda, who's sprawled out on the ground with her head resting against a damp log, lightly nudges his ankle. He glances at her with his eyebrows knitted together. She doesn't really mind your antics — she brought her headphones for that reason — and she doesn't see why anyone should start bickering over that, either.

"Why are you surprised?", Natasha asks. "It's not like Laura and you will be practicing chastity all night."

"She's right", Laura remarks.

"See?"

At this point, he's had enough. He makes a dismissive motion with his hand and steals back his flask again, downing the last bit of whiskey that was in there. It'll be a long night.

You get up half an hour later. Steve is still poking at the campfire, and Wanda is trying to convince Daisy to ditch her own tent and sleep in hers. You watch Natasha dig through the stack of tents until she finds the one you brought.

"Need help with that?", you ask, tilting your head and twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

"I got it", she says, heaving it over her shoulder. "Where do we put it?"

"Somewhere private!", Clint shouts. You shoot a smirk his way before turning towards her again.

"Right there", you say, guiding her closer to the grass. "Bet you can't set up our tent before everyone else."

Natasha's ears perk up. She likes a challenge, unfortunately. At the same time, she knows you're planning something. Maybe get a rise out of her one way or another. She'll fall for it, anyway.

She adjusts the tent over her shoulder deliberately to flex her arms a little. "You're doubting me?"

"Me?", you drawl, watching her set it down in the spot you picked. "Never. Not unless you give me a reason to doubt you."

She gives you a look. Her hair is all natural from the lake, the worn hoodie with the sleeves rolled up. You're definitely planning something. She has no idea what that'd be, though.

"Funny. Hand me a pole."

Whatever you're doing — it's working. You can tell by the way she's starting to rub her eyebrows. "Is it?", you ask, blindly handing her a pole.

You can't help yourself. Nothing can top the kind of sex you have when she's just a little ticked off. One time, she drove her car against the wall while backing up into a parking lot. That was right after she picked it up from the mechanic, too. You remember that night vividly.

"I think that's the wrong pole", she says, looking at the instructions and swatting at a bug. 

"I think I had the wrong pole inside me last night."

Nothing except gritted teeth and the sound of cicadas. The sun has gone down, and all that's left to light up the area surrounding the lake is the campfire and a few LED lamps you brought along. She puts the instructions aside, with a bit more force this time, and keeps working on the tent.

The tension in her shoulders seems to dissipate the moment the tent is set up in front of her. She tosses your sleeping bags inside and motions for you to lay down.

"After you", she says, kneeling to watch you crawl in. You plop down on your stomach. "Comfy?"

"Can't complain."

"Wait 'til I get out the air mattress", she promises, crawling above you. Her hand palms your ass, and she leans in to kiss your shoulder. "So, did I do it? The tent thing?"

"Huh? Oh, no. I saw Steve get done with his, like, two minutes before you."

She groans with her mouth against your skin. Oh well — at least you've made it into the tent. You can still hear the fire crackle outside, the cicadas. You smell the lake water clinging to everything. You're so so close to her too, in one of her hoodies and tiny soft shorts. Before she can do anything about the arousal that's starting to flood her, you disappear from underneath her.

She blinks, but you're outside the tent already. "Y/N, don't play with me."

"Think I'm that easy?", you retort. She emerges from the tent. "Put some effort in, babe."

"What? I told you I'd get out the air mattress", she complains. "Come back inside."

Her hand reaches for you, but you make a smooth move backwards. Her eyebrows furrow.

"Come on", she says.

"Can't catch me?", you tease. Clenching her jaw, she takes a step forward. "I thought you were so big and strong and fast."

Natasha loves you. That's why she joined this camping trip. She loves you, and she wants to have sex before falling into what's supposed to be the best sleep of her life. Yet here you are, making her walk in circles around the tent like an idiot.

Another step. She grazes your wrist, you jump back, and a harsh breath escapes her. You're smiling, which is only adding to her frustration. It's fun for you. 

She tries not to let her patience wear thin, but it isn't easy. You hop backwards, making her miss your arm by a fraction of an inch. At this point, everyone has disappeared into their tents. It's just you and her and the forest stretching out behind you.

"Y/N", she hisses. She speeds up, and so do you. "Stop being a brat!"

"Sounds like I'm in trouble", you say, eyes twinkling. 

"You think?"

"Got a hunch."

You're still circling the tent like maniacs. There's a thought in the back of your mind, brief and barely registered, about how someone will probably get out to tell you to knock it off — but nothing happens, and Natasha darts forward again. 

Her fingers catch your top, but they slip before they can get ahold of you. You let out a sound of surprise, and that's when it changes. 

It's like a light switch being flipped. Something dark flashes in her eyes, unexpected enough to startle you. You take a few quick steps backwards, she follows again, and suddenly, you leave the path you were following around the tent.

Neither of you even consider stopping. Leaves and sticks crunch underfoot as you start paving your way into the forest. There's no bonfire here, no LED lamps — only the moonlight dapples the ground with patches of milky light. 

You're both running now. You let out a breathless laugh when she curses behind you, but the sound turns more panicked when you almost trip over a root. 

There's no need for fear, right? Nothing about this is unsafe. It's Natasha. You know her better than anyone else. You'd trust her with your life. But out here, surrounded by tall trees and darkness, even the knowledge she's following you makes your throat feel tighter. 

She's hunting you. In this moment, you're prey. Blades of grass brush your ankles, a mosquito lands on your arm. Your heart is pounding against your ribs like a rabbit's. You were laughing at first, but you're too out of breath to do so now. 

She clenches her jaw, the heavy fabric of her hoodie too in the way. She reaches for the bottom of it and tugs it off in one fluid motion. You're blurry in the darkness of the forest, your body being swallowed by the absence of light. 

"You can't run forever!", she calls. You can tell she's close, maybe a couple feet away. You're not sure how she hasn't caught up yet — you're far from being able to outrun her. 

"Shut up!", you reply, dodging a low hanging branch. 

Natasha's gaining on you. You can't see her, can't even check on her, but you can hear her. She's getting closer and closer, and that's when she stumbles over an old tree trunk. 

The laugh that comes out of you is exhilarated, foreign almost. Natasha curses. 

"That's what you get!"

You do expect her to say something. She doesn't, and maybe that's worse. She knows she can catch up to you with ease, and you hear her footsteps become more frequent. 

Slaloming through the trees, which grow denser as you go deeper into the forest. Fireflies lead the path. You slip once, twice, your heartbeat in your throat. 

You don't notice how sweaty you are until her hands grab your waist. 

Momentum catches you both. You hit the ground, Natasha tackling you, and your uneven breathing turns into a startled gasp. You stare up at her, dirt speckling your cheeks, trying to squirm away. It's a fruitless attempt. She's too heavy.

"Got you", she mumbles, her grip getting tighter. 

You let out a breathless noise, still fighting back. Your hands press against her chest, but she's stronger, bigger. The feeling of her fingernails scraping at your sides gives you goosebumps.

"Fuck you!", you hiss, grasping at her tank top and pushing her away. Trying to push her away — it's like attempting to move a mountain. 

Do you even want her gone? Not judging by the dampness between your legs, the warmth balling deep in your belly. You try to ignore it. It's desperate and hopeless. 

"Stop that!" She grunts, one hand wrapping around your wrist. The other is on your hip, keeping you pressed against the uneven ground. 

You can see the sweat on her thick biceps. Your racing thoughts stumble for a split second — she was in a hoodie just moments ago, wasn't she? — but you don't dwell on it. You slash your fingernails across her face and she lets out a pained groan.

"Are you insane?", she barks. Her fingers curl into your hip, nails sinking deep into soft skin, and that's when you moan. She stares down at you, still half breathless. 

"Do you ever shut up?", you snap back, bucking your hips in another attempt to get her off you. 

She rolls over instead, tugging you right along, and you knock your knee deep into her side. Little twigs crack, there's a noise somewhere in the distance, one you can't identify, and Natasha lets go of your wrists.

It's disappointing, oddly enough. You stare down at her, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted. That's when she grabs the front of your hoodie, eyes locked with yours, and that's when you both realize.

It was a chase at first. It's a game now, and you're both silently trying to figure out whether the other understands. You're not even sure you know what you're getting yourself into — role playing isn't uncharted territory for you, but this is new.

You couldn't back out if you wanted to, anyway. Natasha's hard, an aching throb in her sweatpants. She's trying to catch her breath, which should've happened minutes ago. You're soaked, not just from the lake water now, and you're grinding against her. You're both too far into this to stop.

Her hand reaches up to the back of your head, fisting hair and pulling you down. Lips and teeth clash, your nails scrape down her chest, and she flips you over.

"Want to run again?", she pants, mouth on your jaw. Her teeth drag lower, all the way to your neck. "Come on, go and run. Watch me catch you again."

You shake your head. Her breath is hot against your skin, her body heavy on yours. "I'll run. Good luck."

She laughs, her fingers fumbling with the waistband of her sweatpants. "Aw, look at you. I think you want to be caught."

You lean in, teeth sinking into her firm shoulder. Her voice drifts into a low moan, one hand wrapped around the bulge inside her boxers.

You take off your hoodie. Your bra, too. Natasha leans in open mouthed, her tongue pressing against your nipple before sucking it into her mouth. You taste like lake water, and though she didn't fulfill her promise of licking it off you earlier, she does her best to make up for it now.

Your back arches, shoving more of your breast into her mouth. Her teeth graze your nipple. She pants quietly and slides her hand down her erection, squeezing when she reaches the base. She's close to jerking herself off — too close — and you grab her face.

Clearly, you aren't thinking. She was biting down on your nipple ever so slightly, and when you move her face, her teeth clamp down on it a little too hard.

"Fuck", you moan loudly. 

She scoffs, leaning down to press a kiss to it. "Shit. Need attention that badly?"

The look you give her doesn't faze her. Natasha laughs, her hand still inside her boxers, fingers sticky. She kisses the curve of your breast, and when your hand joins hers, her breath catches.

You stare at her, your hand sliding down and back up her shaft. "Were you planning on doing this without me?"

Natasha lets out a noise, her eyes locked with yours. "Does it look like it?"

"It better not. I can still leave."

She frowns at you, quickly searching your face. She doesn't believe you. No way in hell would you leave now, especially not when the way back to your friends leads through a dark, tangled forest.

She pushes your hand out of her boxers. Her fingers find the front of your shorts, starting to rub tight circles into it, and you let out a whiny breath.

"You don't mean that", she mutters, holding your wrist down with one hand. You rock from side to side, again trying to shake her off. "Y/N!"

"I told you I'm not that easy", you retort. Your free hand pushes against her chest, but she's heavy, solid, unmoving. "You're giving up?"

Natasha is pent up and out of breath. She's so hard it hurts, a dull pulse in her boxers. Your knee knocks against her ribs and she groans. 

"Are you done?", she barks, wrestling your knee down with her own. Her hand finds your other wrist, pinning it down above your head as well. 

Her hands are big enough, she realizes. She grasps both your wrists in one hand, her fingers wrapping around them tightly. 

You let out a moan. She's taking off her pants with one hand, struggling to get the waistband over her erection. Then, her thick length springs free, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. 

"Look at you", you mock, betrayed by your breathy voice. "Almost nutted in your pants? Haven't even really touched you yet."

Natasha bites her tongue. She glances up at you, her face reddened and a little sweaty, with red baby hairs sticking to her temples. She fumbles with your shorts, but your hips are in the way and the smooth fabric won't budge. 

"You struggling?"

She doesn't say anything. Her hand grabs the waistband, tugging again. You watch her tip leak with frustration. It's your favorite little quirk. 

"Need some help with that?", you purr. 

Something snaps at your words. The fabric rips apart, courtesy of Natasha's impatience, and it takes your underwear with it. You let out a surprised noise, your thighs clenching and your skin heating up.

She’s too impatient to even try and wait. A calloused hand push your thigh aside, and she lines herself up with you before thrusting in deep. One thrust, deep and leaving no time to get adjusted, is enough to wipe every thought from your brain.

Your back arches. She curses and her head drops forward against your shoulder. Her hips roll against yours, fucking into you. You want to clutch her shoulders, run your nails down her back until she’s a bleeding mess, but her grip on your wrists hasn’t loosened, and desperate as you are, you sink your teeth into her neck.

It takes her off guard. Her hips stutter, and her hold on your wrists slackens for a split second. You pull free and run your nails down her back, a hum of satisfaction escaping you.

“Dammit”, she mutters, pounding into you. Your nails sink into taut muscle. “I swear to god, Y/N.”

You scoff, scratching along her back. She curses but never breaks pace, her chest slick with sweat. You can tell it’s starting to become painful, and it only spurs you on. 

Manicured nails sink into taut even deeper. Natasha’s eyes shut. Continuing is a struggle and a necessity, and she finds the underside of your knee to shove your leg up and open you up more for her.

Your body jerks with each thrust. You claw at her back, drawing blood, and watch her eyebrows furrow. You wanted her ticked off — you might’ve pushed her a little too hard, though.

Her hand feels its way up your body, groping and squeezing flesh and curves. When her fingers find your nipple, she gives it a rough twist. 

Your heart rate kicks up, every nerve ending humming. There’s nothing but silence surrounding you now. Every sound is amplified, every thrust is driving you closer to that edge. Natasha throbs hotly inside you, feeling heavy and swollen, and you grasp at her skin. 

A rush of heat floods outwards. Natasha feels like she’s about to burst, like a shaken soda bottle, like she’s seconds from spilling all of herself inside you. Her head goes fuzzy, and the image of you beneath her when she opens her eyes doesn’t help.

Your mouths knock together. She palms at your breast, feeling the achingly stiff bud against her skin. You move one hand to her front to find her necklace and get a tight hold of it, and she moans against your tongue.

She comes in heavy, messy bursts. You squeeze her hips with your thighs, your own orgasm making your mind go blank. Everything feels hot — the leaf covered ground, her slick stomach pressed against yours, the cum dripping out of you.

It takes a moment for you to reel your mind back in. Sound, movement and color return, your thoughts become clear, and reality sinks back in. You look at Natasha and let out a quiet noise.

Drops of blood have dried on her face. You only realize now, with the adrenaline slowly ebbing down. You got her harder than you meant to. You give her a sweet little smile in hopes she won't notice you wiping it off with your thumb.

Natasha lets out a shaky breath, her neck drenched in sweat. She's covered in dirt — her biceps, her chest, skin speckled with mud. She's still inside you, too, not being bothered to pull out.

“See”, she mumbles, “I caught you.”

You huff and give her chest a shove. “Please. That was all luck.”

“Was not”, she retorts, pulling out of you. “Could’ve caught you jumping on one leg.”

You roll your eyes and prop yourself up on your forearms. You flick some dirt off your body. “How long did we stay out here?”

Natasha shrugs, scanning your surroundings. There’s no way to know what time it is. You both left your phones inside the tent, she realizes. 

“Too long”, she says. “We should head back.”

You both get off the floor. You pick up the shorts she ripped apart, the underwear that’s now nothing but a few tiny, flimsy pieces of fabric. Natasha rubs her neck before taking off her sweatpants to give them to you.

“My back hurts”, she complains, checking herself. She rubs a hand down her spine and glances at it. “I’m bleeding, too. What the fuck, Y/N.”

You hum, putting your hands on your waist and making her turn around. The scratches are deep, long lines scattered across her sculpted back. You give her butt a pat.

“I have disinfectant in my purse”, you assure her. “Come on, let’s head back before we get lost.”

She shoots you a look but doesn’t say anything. You start to find your way back to the campsite, trying to spot things that seem familiar. A root that Natasha tripped over, a shrub of juneberries, a heart etched into a tree.

Finally, Natasha’s hoodie. She picks it up and makes you put it over your shoulders.

A few moments later, you see a tiny light at the other side of the forest. More lights join it, and the closer you get, the better you hear the voices accompanying them.

“There they are!”, Clint yells. “Are you guys insane?”

“Do you know how worried we were?”, Wanda adds. “You can’t just vanish into the wilderness! In the middle of the night, too!”

Natasha grimaces, her hand resting on your waist. You exchange a look before closing the last few feet separating you from the others.

“Sorry”, she says. “We didn’t think you’d, you know…notice.”

“You were quiet”, Clint grumbles. “Too quiet. Why are you bleeding?”

“Are you sure you want to know?”, you ask, voice sweet as sugar. He drags his hand down his face. “I’m taking that as a no.”

He doesn’t bother arguing. You’re not wrong, either — as concerned as he might be, he’s not curious enough to make you tell the tale of how you and Natasha disappeared in the forest for over an hour. Instead, he turns around, silently gesturing for you to follow him.

Half an hour later, you’re back inside the tent. Clint and Wanda are gone, probably on the verge of falling asleep, and you’re applying bandaids all over Natasha’s back. She hisses when you use a towel, soaked in disinfectant, to wipe a particularly nasty scratch.

“Got you good”, you tease, pecking her shoulder. “We’re done here. You look like a work of art.”

“I’m sure”, she mutters, reaching for her hoodie. “My entire back is burning.”

You shrug and sink down into the mattress. Natasha glances at you and sighs, her fingers touching your knee, before joining you. Her body presses against yours, warmth cocooning the two of you.

Her hand slips under your body. Her nose nuzzles your neck, now smelling of lake water and something earthy. 

“Another thing I can check off my list.”

“You’re disgusting.”

You sat on the edge of the bed, knees pressed together, staring at your reflection in the large floor-length mirror across the room. The soft golden light from the bedside lamp did nothing to soften what you saw. Your eyes traced every flaw you’d been picking at for the last twenty minutes: the way your stomach folded when you slouched even slightly, the stretch marks that caught the light on your hips, the uneven tone on your thighs, the tiredness under your eyes that no amount of concealer seemed to fix tonight.

Billie was late again. She’d texted that she was on her way home from the studio, exhausted but desperate to see you. You knew she was tired—mentally and physically drained from long hours and constant pressure—but you still wanted to look perfect for her. Instead, you felt… wrong. Heavy. Unworthy.

You tilted your head, frowning deeper as you pulled at the hem of your oversized t-shirt, trying to hide the parts you hated most. “Why can’t I just look like the girls she’s surrounded by?” you whispered to your reflection, voice thick with frustration. Your fingers traced a scar on your knee, then moved up to pinch the softness of your waist. Every touch made you shrink a little more inside.

The apartment was quiet except for the low hum of the city outside the windows. You waited, heart beating unevenly, caught between wanting her to walk through the door and almost hoping she’d be too tired to notice how you looked tonight.

You sighed, eyes locked on the mirror, hating the girl staring back at you.

The sound of the front door opening and closing made your stomach flip. Heavy footsteps, the soft thud of Billie dropping her bag on the floor, and then her voice—low, raspy, and tired—echoed down the hallway.

“Babe? I’m home.”

Before you could even answer, she appeared in the doorway, still wearing her oversized black hoodie and baggy pants, hair messy from the long day. The second her eyes landed on you sitting there in front of the mirror, something shifted in her expression. She crossed the room in a few quick strides, cupped your face with both hands, and kissed you hard.

It wasn’t a soft hello. Billie devoured your mouth like she’d been starving for you all day—tongue sliding against yours, teeth grazing your bottom lip, a low hungry sound vibrating in her throat. She tasted like mint gum and exhaustion, but the kiss was pure need. When she finally pulled back just enough to breathe, her forehead rested against yours, thumbs stroking your cheeks.

“What’s wrong, baby?” she murmured, voice rough. Her blue eyes searched yours carefully. “You look like you’ve been sitting here overthinking again.”

You tried to look away, but she gently turned your face back to her. Your lips trembled into a sad little pout, eyes glassy as the words slipped out quiet and broken.“…I’m not pretty.”

The silence that followed felt heavy. Billie’s brows furrowed, confusion and something darker flickering across her face.

She pulled back slightly, staring at you like you had just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. Her eyebrows shot up and a sharp, almost disbelieving laugh escaped her lips.“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

She shook her head, eyes narrowing with that intense mix of love and frustration she got whenever you talked down on yourself. Her hands slid down to grip your waist, fingers digging in possessively as she forced you to keep looking at her.“Baby… you’re the most beautiful woman in the fucking universe,” she said, voice low and rough, almost angry in how serious she was. “I’m not even joking. I would literally rip my own eyes out and give them to you just so you could see what I see every time I look at you.”

You tried to protest, lips still pouted, but Billie didn’t let you. She kissed you again, harder this time, biting your lower lip before pulling back just enough to speak against your mouth.“I’m so fucking tired of you sitting here picking yourself apart like this. You think I don’t see you? I see every inch of you and I want it. All of it.”

Her hands moved up under your oversized t-shirt, palms warm against your skin as she stared straight into your eyes, daring you to argue.

You let out a shaky breath, eyes still watery as you looked at her through the mirror’s reflection.“You only say that because I’m your girlfriend…”

The words barely left your mouth before Billie let out a soft, dark chuckle against your skin. She shook her head, clearly not having it.“Exactly,” she murmured, voice dropping lower, “because I’m the only one who’s seen every single corner of your body. Every inch. Every mark. Every soft place you hate.”

Without another word, she leaned in and pressed her lips to your neck, kissing slowly at first, then sucking harder, open-mouthed and wet. Her tongue traced along your pulse point as her hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you back against her chest.

You shivered when she bit down gently, then soothed the spot with her tongue. Her breath was hot against your skin as she whispered between kisses:

“And I still can’t get enough of you… fuck, I never can.”

Her mouth moved lower, sucking a mark just below your collarbone while her fingers slipped further under your shirt, brushing over the parts of you that made you want to hide.

“I’m gonna show you tonight,” she murmured hotly against your skin, voice thick with promise. “Gonna fuck every single doubt out of this pretty head until you believe me.”

Billie’s hands gripped your hips firmly as she stood up, pulling you with her. She turned you around so you were facing the large mirror, your back pressed against her chest. Her chin rested on your shoulder, those sharp blue eyes locked on your reflection as she held you there. “Look at yourself,” she whispered, voice low and commanding.

You tried to look down, but her fingers caught your chin gently, forcing your gaze back up.

“Can I?” she asked softly, her breath warm against your ear. Her fingers hovered at the thin straps of your dress, waiting for permission even though her eyes were already dark with hunger.

You gave the smallest nod.

Billie smiled against your neck and slowly agonizingly slowly slid the straps down your shoulders. The fabric slipped inch by inch, revealing more of your skin to the mirror. She watched every new exposed inch with pure reverence, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your bare shoulder as the dress pooled lower and lower.

“Fuck… look at you,” she breathed, eyes never leaving the reflection. “So fucking beautiful and you don’t even know it.”

Billie didn’t waste any more time. With a slow, deliberate tug, she pulled the dress all the way down your body until it pooled at your feet. You stood there in nothing but your delicate black lace underwear, the soft fabric barely covering anything. Your arms instinctively moved to cover yourself, but Billie caught your wrists gently and placed them back at your sides.

She wrapped her arms around you from behind, strong hands settling possessively on your waist, fingers digging into your soft flesh as she pulled your back flush against her chest.

“Look,” she ordered softly, her voice husky against your ear. “Look at what I see.”

Her hands slowly roamed over your body as she spoke, eyes locked on your reflection in the mirror.“I see these perfect tits,” she murmured, cupping them through the lace, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they hardened. “So fucking full and soft… made for my hands, for my mouth.”

Her right hand slid down, tracing your stomach.“And this? This is where I wanna bury my face when I’m on my knees for you. All these curves… these hips I love gripping while I fuck you.” Her fingers squeezed your hips hard, pulling you back against her. “And these thighs… fuck, baby. I want them wrapped around my head every night.”She pressed a hot kiss to the side of your neck, eyes never leaving yours in the mirror.“You’re not just pretty. You’re fucking sinful. And you’re all mine.” Billie’s hands stayed on your hips as she stepped back just enough to shove her own baggy pants down her legs. She kicked them aside, leaving her in just a black hoodie and a pair of simple gray panties that were visibly soaked through. The dark wet patch was obvious in the mirror.

“You feel that?” she whispered hotly, pressing her hips forward so you could feel the warmth of her against your ass. “Look how fucking wet I am for you, baby.”

She took your hand and guided it back between her thighs. Your fingers brushed over the drenched fabric and she let out a shaky breath.“All this mess… it’s only for you. Every time I look at you, every time I think about you, I get like this. Soaked. Aching.”

Billie kissed your shoulder, then stepped away for a moment. She walked to the nightstand, opened the drawer, and pulled out the thick black strap-on she knew you both loved. She held it up, letting you see it in the reflection, her eyes dark with lust.“I’m gonna fuck you in front of this mirror until the only thing you can see is how fucking perfect you look when I’m inside you.”

She started putting the harness on slowly, never breaking eye contact with your reflection.

Billie finished securing the thick strap around her hips, the realistic black dildo now jutting out obscenely. She stepped behind you again, eyes locked on your reflection with pure hunger. Her hands returned to your waist, pulling your ass back against her. She gripped the base of the strap and slowly dragged the thick head between your cheeks, rubbing it up and down teasingly over your lace-covered pussy and ass. The pressure was firm, hot, and deliberate. You could feel how hard and ready it was.

“Mmm… feel that, baby?” she purred against your ear, voice low and filthy. “That’s how bad I want you.”

She kept sliding the dildo between your cheeks, pressing just enough to make you squirm but never giving you what you craved. Every slow thrust of her hips made the silicone drag deliciously against your soaked panties.

“I’m not putting it in until you say it,” she said firmly, nipping at your earlobe. “Until you look at yourself in that mirror and tell me you’re beautiful. Say it, baby. Tell me how fucking gorgeous you are while I rub this cock against your pretty little ass.”

Her hand slid around to press two fingers against your clit through the lace, rubbing slow circles as she continued teasing you with the strap.“I can wait all night… but I know you’re dripping for it.”

You were trembling, thighs pressed together, breathing hard as Billie kept teasing you with the thick head of the strap rubbing between your cheeks. The pressure on your clit from her fingers was driving you insane.

Finally, in a shaky, needy voice, you looked at your reflection and whispered,“I’m… I’m beautiful.”

Billie’s eyes darkened with satisfaction. She pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the side of your neck and growled against your skin,“Good girl.”

She hooked two fingers into the crotch of your soaked lace panties and pulled them roughly to the side, exposing your dripping pussy. The cool air hit your wet folds for only a second before you felt the blunt, thick head of the strap pressing against your entrance.

Billie held your waist tightly with one hand and slowly — inch by inch — pushed inside you. The stretch was delicious and overwhelming. She watched your face in the mirror the entire time, lips parted, breathing ragged.

“Fuck… look at you taking me so well,” she groaned, voice thick with lust. “So tight and wet for me, baby. That’s my beautiful girl.”

She bottomed out slowly, hips flush against your ass, and stayed there for a moment, letting you feel every inch buried deep inside while her free hand came around to rub your clit in slow, firm circles.

The feeling of Billie buried deep inside you made your head spin. You moaned softly and instinctively tried to turn your head to kiss her, desperate for her mouth.

But Billie’s hand quickly moved to your jaw, gently but firmly holding your face forward toward the mirror.“No, baby,” she rasped against your ear, voice low and commanding. “Don’t look away. Watch the mirror. Watch how fucking gorgeous you look getting fucked.”

She rolled her hips slowly, pulling out just a little before sliding back in deep, making sure you felt every thick inch. Her eyes stayed locked on your reflection.“Look at your face… those pretty lips parted, eyes all glassy for me. Look how your tits bounce every time I push inside you. So fucking perfect.”

Her hand slid down to grip your hip harder as she started thrusting a little faster, deep and deliberate.“You’re gonna watch yourself come on my cock like the beautiful girl you are,” she growled, biting down gently on your shoulder. “Eyes on the mirror the whole time, baby. I want you to see exactly what I see.”

Billie tightened her grip on your hips and started moving faster. Her thrusts grew deeper, harder, setting a steady, punishing rhythm that had the thick strap dragging perfectly against every sensitive spot inside you. The wet, filthy sound of her hips slapping against your ass filled the room.

Your eyes fluttered, rolling back as a broken moan tore from your throat.

“Eyes on the mirror,” Billie growled, one hand sliding up to grab your jaw again, forcing your gaze forward. “Don’t you dare look away.”

She leaned in closer, lips brushing your ear as she pounded into you harder.“I’m gonna pound some fucking confidence into this pretty pussy until you believe how beautiful you are,” she rasped, voice rough and filthy. “Every thrust… every time this cock hits deep inside you… you’re gonna remember you’re mine and you’re fucking perfect.”

Her pace became relentless — deep, powerful strokes that made your legs shake and your tits bounce in the reflection. Billie’s eyes were dark, locked on your face in the mirror, watching every expression of pleasure she pulled from you.

“That’s it, baby… look at yourself getting fucked so good. So goddamn beautiful when you fall apart for me.” Billie’s hips snapped forward harder and faster, the strap driving deep into you with every thrust. The pace was brutal and perfect, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing louder in the room. Her fingers dug into your hips hard enough to leave marks as she fucked you relentlessly in front of the mirror.“You’re so close, aren’t you, baby?” she panted against your neck, voice wrecked. “I can feel you squeezing my cock. So fucking tight.”

Your legs were shaking, eyes half-lidded but forced to stay on your reflection — flushed cheeks, parted lips, tits bouncing with every powerful thrust. The pleasure was overwhelming.

Billie reached around and rubbed your swollen clit in fast, tight circles.

“Come for me,” she growled. “Come while you watch how beautiful you look falling apart on my cock.”

The orgasm hit you like a wave. Your whole body tensed, eyes rolling back as you cried out, clenching hard around the strap. Billie didn’t stop, fucking you through it with deep, messy thrusts until you were whimpering and trembling in her arms.

Only then did she slow down, wrapping both arms around your waist and holding you tight against her as you came down. She kissed your shoulder, your neck, your cheek — soft and loving now.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered tenderly, still buried inside you. “My beautiful girl. Don’t ever forget it.” She carefully pulled out, turned you around, and pulled you into her chest, kissing you slow and deep while her hands stroked your back soothingly.

IU kneels between his thighs, her angelic face flushed with hunger. Her glossy lips stretch wide around his young, throbbing cock, taking him deep into the wet heat of her mouth. She sucks greedily, sloppily, eagerly with no pretense of elegance. Just pure, eager devotion. Saliva drips from the corners of her mouth, trailing down her chin and onto the floor as she bobs her head with wet sounds that fill the empty room. Her tongue swirls along the underside, flicking and pressing, while one small hand pumps the base in time with her sucking.

Last week at the music show that she and his group were also attending, amid the chaos of cameras and staff, she'd pulled him aside for a moment.

"Pretend you're sick next time they're all gone."

She'd murmured, her eyes sparkling with mischief and promise. Now she's here, living up to it, her free hand gripping his thigh for leverage as she pushes forward, gagging herself slightly on his length with shameless enthusiasm. Her eyes water but stay locked upward on his face.

She pulls back for a gasping breath.

"Mmm... you taste so good."

She purrs, before diving back down, sucking harder and faster. Her cheeks hollow with effort.

IU's eyes gleam with wicked satisfaction as she feels him twitch and throb against her tongue. She loves this. His youthful stamina. The way his body responds with such raw, eager excitement every time she does something new. He's still so fresh to this world of pleasure, and she craves breaking him in, molding that innocent boy’s image into something darker and hungrier. She wants him to use her like a toy, to fuck her like the slut she secretly longs to be for him.

With a filthy moan vibrating around his shaft, she takes his cock deeper, pushing forward until the head of it nudges the back of her throat. She holds him there, her throat constricting around him in rhythmic swallows. Her nose presses against his pelvis as saliva spills messily down her chin and onto his balls. His head rolls back against the chair with a groan, hips bucking involuntarily at the intense, tight heat.

She holds him like that for several long seconds, eyes watering but filled with lustful pride, before slowly pulling back. His cock falls from her mouth, glistening with thick strands of her spit. IU gasps for air, a wicked smile spreading across her face as she strokes him firmly with both hands.

"Fuck... your cock is so perfect."

She whispers, leaning in to slap the slick length against her tongue a few times.

"I can't get enough of how hard you are for me. So young, so full of energy... I love turning you into someone who can use me whenever he wants."

She dives back down immediately, sucking him sloppily and greedily once more, loud, wet noises echoing as she bobs faster, hollowing her cheeks and swirling her tongue. One hand cups and gently tugs his balls while the other pumps the base, determined to milk every drop of his excitement. Her panties soak as she’s clearly aroused by how she's corrupting him.

IU moans around his cock, sucking harder and faster as she feels him swelling and pulsing in her throat. Her head bobs with sloppy enthusiasm, spit dripping freely while her hand strokes what she can't fit in her mouth. She can sense he's getting close, and it only makes her more eager. Her humming lets vibrations travel up his shaft as she works him relentlessly.

With a wet, gasping pop, she pulls off just in time. Her hand pumps him firmly through the final strokes as thick ropes of cum erupt from his cock, splattering across her tongue and lips. IU swallows greedily, milking every drop with her mouth and fingers, her eyes locked on his. A few stray streaks land on her flushed cheeks and chin as she licks him clean, savoring the taste.

She stands up slowly, wiping her mouth with a finger, a mischievous smile playing on her lips, followed by a suggestive wink. The young idol's chest heaves, eyes wide with excitement and lingering pleasure as he watches her. His cock twitches at the sight of her, still hard and ready thanks to that youthful stamina she adores.

IU's fingers move to the belt of her long black leather coat, undoing it with teasing slowness. She shrugs the heavy material off her shoulders, letting it slide down her arms and pool at her feet on the floor. Underneath, her petite body is a vision in delicate light pink lingerie. Lacy bra and panties that hug her small breasts and hips perfectly, accented with thin golden chains that drape elegantly across her stomach, waist, and thighs, catching the light.

She stands there for a moment, letting him drink in the sight, turning slightly so he can admire the way the chains accentuate her smooth skin and the curve of her ass.

"Like what you see?"

Then she steps forward, straddling his lap on the chair. Her knees settle on either side of his thighs as she leans in close, her breath warm against his ear.

"I need your cock so bad right now."

She whispers, reaching down between them. She hooks a finger into her pink panties and pulls the soaked fabric aside, exposing her glistening pussy. She’s neatly trimmed, but the boys eyes are only glued to her pussy either way.

With a soft, needy moan, IU guides the head of his cock to her entrance and slowly sinks down, taking him inch by inch into her tight, dripping heat. Her walls clench around him as he bottoms out, her golden chains shifting against her skin. She grinds her hips once, savoring the full feeling, before starting to ride him with slow, relishing rolls of her body, enjoying the way his thick cock stretches her tight pussy with every descent. Her petite body moves in languid circles on his lap, the golden chains on her pink lingerie swaying and clinking softly against each other. She braces her hands on his shoulders, biting her lower lip as she looks down at him with heavy-lidded eyes, her breath coming in soft, needy gasps.

But that slow rhythm doesn't last long. The hunger takes over quickly, and soon she's riding him harder, bouncing faster on his cock. Wet, filthy sounds fill the dorm room now as her ass slaps down against his thighs with increasing force. Her small tits bounce inside the lacy bra, and she leans forward, pressing her chest closer to his face while grinding her clit against him on every downstroke.

The young idol's hands start instinctively on her slim waist, gripping her as she moves. But the sight and feel of her riding him so eagerly is too much. He can't resist sliding them lower, cupping and groping her firm, small ass cheeks. His fingers dig into the soft flesh, giving it an experimental squeeze.

A wicked moan escapes IU's lips.

"Mmm, yes... spank me."

She breathes, her voice dripping with lust.

"Spank my ass like the slut I am for you."

He doesn't hesitate for even a second, as if he'd been waiting for her permission. His hand comes down sharply on her right cheek with a loud crack, making her gasp and clench tightly around his cock. He does it again on the other side, then alternates, the smacks growing firmer as her pale skin flushes pink under his palm. Each spank makes her ride him even rougher, slamming down onto his cock with desperate need.

"Fuck... harder."

She whimpers, grinding against him. She leans in, kissing him messily before pulling back just enough to look into his eyes.

"You can do whatever you want with my body. It's yours. Use me... slap me, choke me, fuck me like your personal little slut. I want all of it."

Her words seem to flip a switch in him. IU's pace becomes almost frantic now, her soaked pussy sliding up and down his shaft with sloppy abandon. He now has both hands firmly gripping her ass, fingers digging into the reddened flesh from all the spanking. He uses his strength to bounce her harder and faster on his lap, lifting and dropping her petite body with increasing force, making her moan loudly with every deep thrust.

Leaning in close, IU nips at his earlobe, then bites down teasingly. Hard enough to send a sharp jolt through him. Her hot breath fans against his neck.

"You like using me like this, don't you?"

He flinches at the bite, instinctively pulling his head away a little. His mouth opens, about to say something. Maybe a surprised protest or a breathless curse. But the words die in his throat the moment he sees her face. IU is looking at him with a wicked, lust-filled smile, her eyes dark and sparkling with pure mischief and arousal. Her lips are parted, still glistening with her own spit, and that expression tells him everything. She knows exactly what she's doing and loves pushing his buttons.

That smile ignites something in him. To get back at her, he slides one hand off her ass and moves it upward. His fingers wrap around her slender throat, squeezing with just enough pressure to make her gasp. IU's eyes widen in delight, her pussy clenching hard around his cock as he starts choking her.

"Yes..."

She manages to choke out, her voice raspy and needy under his grip. She doesn't pull away. Instead, she rides him even more desperately, bouncing on his cock while he controls her with that firm hand around her neck. The golden chains on her lingerie bounce with her movements, and her face flushes deeper as she stares into his eyes, silently begging for more. He can feel her pulse racing under his fingers, her walls fluttering wildly around him with every rough bounce he forces her into. The power shift only seems to make her wetter, hornier, as she submits completely to his grip.

But her facial expressions only seem to push him even further. Despite her offering her body to him, he can see in her eyes that she’s challenging him. And she’s asking if that’s all he’s got with that small teasing twitch of the corner of her mouth. With a low growl, he shifts beneath her, moving his body, and pull his legs up so his feet plant firmly on the edge of the chair. The new position gives him better leverage and stability, his hips now angled perfectly to thrust up into her with raw power. He grips her throat tighter with one hand and her ass with the other, then starts fucking her hard from underneath. His hips snap upward forcefully, driving his cock deep into her soaked pussy. IU's petite body bounces wildly on top of him, her small tits jiggling inside the bra as she’s manhandled exactly the way she craved. Because of the new angle, her head falls forward onto his shoulder. She can no longer see his face, only feel the heat of his skin and the relentless pounding of his cock. Her golden chains rattle with every brutal bounce, and her moans turn into broken, breathy whimpers against his neck.

The hand around her throat constricts her airflow more intensely now. Her vision slowly starts to blur and fuzz at the edges. The room grows hazy as stars dance behind her eyelids. The lack of oxygen makes her head feel light, her body tingling all over, but instead of tapping out or warning him, IU only gets more turned on.

"Mmmph... is that all you've got?"

She teases, her voice raspy and strained from the chokehold. Even as her sight blurs further, she rolls her hips to meet his thrusts, clenching her pussy around him.

"Choke me harder... fuck your little slut deeper. I can take it... I want you to ruin me."

Her words come out weaker but filthier. She nips weakly at his shoulder, encouraging him even as her body trembles and bounces helplessly on his cock, completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure and the dizzying thrill of being used so roughly. In her hazy, pleasure-drunk state, her half-lidded eyes drift past him and land on a framed picture hanging on the wall behind the chair. Seven young men smiling brightly at the camera, full of youthful charm and bright energy. His group.

As his fingers tighten further around her throat, their smiling faces start to blur and swim in her vision. The lack of air makes everything fuzzy, almost dreamlike. A filthy, intoxicating thought rushes through her mind like lightning. How would these seven young guys use her body? Could she seduce all seven of them at once?

The idea sends a fresh wave of heat crashing through her. She’s always been so pretty, so irresistibly sexy and seductive. Could she really pull all seven of them into her at the same time? The image of being surrounded by them, of being their personal slut, makes her pussy clench around his pounding cock. All the other men she’s been with were always too careful, too gentle, afraid of breaking her delicate, petite body. But this boy… he’s almost squeezing the life out of her right now, ruining her tight little pussy with brutal, desperate strokes, and she loves it.

Her mind spirals deeper into the fantasy as her vision darkens even more. What would it feel like if all seven of them took her like this? One after another, or all at once? Hands everywhere, cocks filling every hole, no mercy, no hesitation. Young, energetic, and rough enough to actually treat her like the toy she craves to be.

The combination is too much.

His relentless cock slamming up into her, the choking grip cutting off her air, and the vivid fantasy of being gang-fucked by his entire group push her straight over the edge. IU’s entire body seizes up as a shattering orgasm rips through her. Her pussy spasms around him, gushing wetly down his shaft as she cums harder than she has in months. A strangled, broken moan escapes her constricted throat, her nails digging into his shoulders while her legs shake uncontrollably.

Even as stars explode behind her eyes and she teeters right on the brink of unconsciousness, the pleasure keeps rolling through her in intense waves, her body twitching and milking his cock.

IU stands alone in the boy group's waiting room, heart pounding with a potent mix of excitement and a slight tinge of nervousness. The fantasy that pushed her over the edge last week has consumed her ever since. One wasn't enough. She wants all seven of them - those energetic, young boys - to claim her, to turn the respected sunbae IU into their personal shared slut.

The roar of the crowd cheering at the end of their performance filters through the walls, signaling they’ll be back any minute. She takes a deep breath and finishes preparing herself.

Her body is wrapped in delicate blue lingerie. A lacy bra that barely contains her small breasts, a matching garter belt holding up sheer blue stockings, and high heels. A sleek collar sits around her throat, a silver chain dangling from the front. Instead of wearing the panties, she wads the soaked blue lace into her mouth, gagging herself effectively. The taste of her own arousal fills her senses as she bites down on the fabric. She then pulls the matching blue blindfold over her eyes, plunging herself into darkness. On her wrists are the matching cuffs from the lingerie set. She twists her arms behind her back and clicks them shut with a soft metallic sound, the short golden chain now connecting her wrists tightly together.

Finally, she pulls the cardboard sign she carefully made earlier closer and positions it leaning against her body, right in front of her chest and stomach so it will be the first thing they see when they walk in.

"Use me as your slut, make me your personal fuck toy, no mercy."

With her hands secured behind her back, IU is on her knees in the middle of the room, thighs pressed together, back straight, and head slightly bowed. The collar chain rests cool against her skin. She waits there in the silence, blindfolded, gagged, and bound, heart racing, pussy already aching with fresh arousal as the sound of approaching footsteps and excited voices grows louder outside the door.

IU’s heart hammers in her chest. The sound of the door swinging open reaches her ears, followed by multiple sets of footsteps entering the room. Several people. Voices murmur excited for a brief moment before everything falls completely silent.

The sudden quiet makes her stomach twist with a sharp spike of fear. Did she get the wrong room? Are staff with them? Her mind races. She’s completely exposed like this - bound, gagged, and blindfolded. Just as panic starts to rise and she’s about to make a muffled sound around the panties to call the whole thing off, she hears it.

The sound of a zipper being pulled down.

A moment later, the thick, warm head of a cock presses against her parted lips, pushing past the lacy panties stuffed in her mouth and sliding along her tongue. She freezes for a second, hesitating, her body tensing. But then she recognizes it. The familiar shape, the way it feels against her tongue, the slight curve. It’s him. The young guy she had ridden so desperately a week ago.

Relief and fresh lust flood through her. IU moans softly around the intrusion and starts sucking him eagerly. Her head bobs forward as much as her position allows, lips stretching around his shaft while the panties in her mouth make everything wetter and messier. She swirls her tongue around him, sucking with the same greedy, sloppy enthusiasm as last time, clearly relieved it’s him and thrilled that the others are watching.

The silence in the room breaks with a few low, surprised murmurs and chuckles from the other boys. Someone whispers “Holy shit…” but she can’t focus on anything except the cock sliding deeper into her mouth as he starts gently thrusting between her lips.

IU moans happily around the familiar cock filling her mouth, her blindfolded head bobbing, while her wrists are cuffed behind her back. She loves this. Being used so casually while the rest of the group watches in stunned silence. The wet, explicit sounds of her sucking echo in the waiting room, making her pussy throb with need.

She hears one of the boys whisper her name in disbelief

“IU…?”

Followed by the sound of someone stepping closer. Another zipper opens nearby. Her excitement spikes, a fresh rush of arousal soaking her thighs.

The boy in her mouth groans, tangling his fingers in her hair.

“Too bad she only has one mouth.”

He says with a breathless laugh. He pulls out slowly, leaving her lips glistening and open, the panties still stuffed inside. IU feels even wetter at his words. They’re not treating her like a respected senior idol. Just like a willing slut ready to be shared. The thought makes her whimper with need.

Almost immediately, the second boy steps forward. She hasn’t really talked to him before. Only seen him once or twice in passing. He’s practically a stranger. Without a word, he pushes the thick head of his cock past her stretched lips and into her warm, wet mouth.

IU lets out a deep, muffled moan around his unfamiliar shaft, the vibration traveling down his length. The knowledge that she can’t see him, doesn’t even know which member he is, and yet he’s casually using her mouth like a toy sends a powerful thrill through her body. She starts sucking him eagerly, swirling her tongue and taking him deeper, her cheeks hollowing as she gives him the same sloppy, greedy treatment.

Low murmurs and shifting feet fill the room as the other boys watch, clearly getting more comfortable with the situation.

“She’s really doing this…”

The second boy starts rocking his hips, pushing further into her throat.

She hears another set of footsteps step closer. A pair of warm hands settle on her bare shoulders first, making her shiver. They slide slowly downward, cupping and squeezing her small tits through the thin blue bra. The stranger’s fingers knead her breasts, thumbs brushing over her hardening nipples through the fabric, sending sparks of pleasure straight to her dripping pussy.

Too distracted by the hands groping her chest and the cock sliding between her lips, IU doesn’t notice the third boy stepping up on her right side. Suddenly, a strong hand fists into her hair and yanks her head sideways off the previous cock. Before she can even gasp, a new, thick cock pushes into her mouth from the side, entering at the right corner of her lips. The angle is filthy and awkward. His shaft stretches her mouth open sideways as the tip presses against the inside of her left cheek, making it bulge. He holds her head firmly in place with that tight grip on her hair, not letting her adjust. Then he starts thrusting, fucking her mouth with steady, shallow strokes from that awkward side angle. The bulge in her cheek moves back and forth visibly as he uses her like a toy, the head of his cock rubbing along the soft inner wall of her mouth.

IU moans around the invading shaft, the sound muffled and wet. Being passed around so casually, her mouth used from a strange angle while another pair of hands continues playing with her tits, only turns her on more. Drool spills from the corner of her stretched lips, dripping down her chin as she submits to the rough treatment, her blindfolded face flushed with lust. His cock stretches the corner of her lips and bulges her left cheek with every push, sliding in and out with wet, lewd sounds.

Meanwhile, the guy in front of her finishes undoing the clasp of her bra. He tugs it down her arms until it hangs uselessly around her elbows, fully exposing her small, perky tits. His hands immediately return to them, groping and squeezing the soft flesh directly now. His fingers are rough and eager, pinching and rolling her sensitive nipples.

When he suddenly twists one nipple sharply, a high-pitched mewl escapes IU’s stuffed mouth. The vibration travels straight down the cock buried in her cheek, making the boy fucking her face groan loudly in pleasure. He pushes deeper for a moment, enjoying the way her throat flutters around him.

Then IU feels another warm, heavy cock slapping against her blindfolded face. The sudden wet smack on her cheek makes her jerk away instinctively for a second, startled because she couldn’t see it coming. But the surprise quickly melts into burning arousal. Having one boy fucking her mouth sideways while another casually slaps his cock across her face feels incredibly dirty and hot. She notices the new cock feels slick and wet against her skin. It must be one of the first two boys she sucked off a moment ago. The realization that she has no idea which one it is makes her pussy clench with fresh need. She moans sluttily around the cock in her mouth and leans her face forward again, offering herself more eagerly to the slaps.

The boy slapping her face rubs his wet tip across her lips and blindfold, smearing precum and her own spit over her features while the one in her mouth continues using her stretched cheek like a personal fucktoy. IU’s mind spins with lust, completely lost in the overwhelming sensation of being shared.

All seven of the young idols are now surrounding her kneeling body, their hands and cocks touching her everywhere at once. She has no idea who is who. Just a sea of anonymous touches, voices, and hard cocks in the darkness behind her blindfold.

One pair of strong hands squeezes and gropes her small ass cheeks from behind, spreading them occasionally before landing sharp, stinging spanks that make her jolt and moan. Another boy steps in and gently undoes the cuffs on her wrists.

“You need to use those hands, noona.”

The moment her wrists are free, IU stretches her arms out obediently, palms open and waiting. She doesn’t have to wait long. Two warm, throbbing cocks are placed into her hands. She wraps her fingers around them immediately and starts stroking, feeling their different thicknesses and lengths.

At the same time, the cock that was using her cheek pulls out, only to be replaced by a new one that pushes straight into her open, drooling mouth. IU moans around the fresh shaft and begins sucking him eagerly, her head bobbing as best she can while her hands work the two cocks on either side of her.

The rest of the boys fill in around her. Hands roam everywhere, squeezing her tits, pinching her nipples, sliding between her thighs to rub her soaked pussy, and stroking her hair. Someone tugs on the chain attached to her collar, another traces the garter belt on her stockings. Cocks occasionally slap against her cheeks, her shoulders, and her chest as they wait their turn.

She can’t tell who is in her mouth, whose cocks she’s stroking, or which hands belong to whom. The anonymity only makes it hotter. IU sucks sloppily on the cock between her lips, her tongue working hard while her hands pump the other two with increasing enthusiasm. Her body trembles under the constant attention, drool running down her chin as she gives herself over completely to being their shared toy.

Low groans and murmurs of “Fuck, she’s so good…” and “Look at her go” surround her from every direction, feeding her lust even more.

She moans around the thick cock in her mouth as she feels a new set of fingers sliding between her thighs. One finger teases her slick folds for a moment before pushing slowly inside her dripping pussy.

“Fuck… she’s so tight.”

The boy mutters as he curls his finger inside her.

For a brief, proud moment, IU feels a rush of satisfaction as the older noona. Tight, petite, and desirable enough to have all these younger boys obsessed with her. That pride quickly melts into pure lust as the finger starts pumping in and out of her.

The cock in her mouth is suddenly pulled out, only to be replaced by something noticeably bigger. Her lips stretch wide around the thick head as the new cock pushes in. It’s clearly larger than the others so far. It’s girthier, heavier on her tongue. Her stroking hands falter for a second on the two cocks she’s holding, surprised by the size, before she regains her rhythm and continues pumping them steadily.

The owner of the big cock doesn’t give her much time to adjust. He grabs the back of her head and starts thrusting deeper, forcing more of his fat shaft into her mouth. IU immediately starts gagging and choking around him, her throat constricting as the thick head bumps against the back of her mouth. Drool spills onto her tits as he uses her face with more force.

The combination - the finger pumping steadily in her tight pussy and the big cock brutally fucking her throat - makes her unbelievably soaked. Her juices coat the boy’s hand as her mind fills with filthy thoughts of how that massive cock would feel stretching her pussy open instead.

By now she’s almost certain she’s tasted every single one of the seven boys. Each cock had its own unique shape, taste, and rhythm, and every single one has been amazing in its own way. The realization that she’s servicing all seven of them at once only makes her suck harder on the big cock, gagging noisily while her hands stroke the other two with renewed eagerness.

She’s completely lost in the pleasure of being their shared slut.

“Can we… actually fuck her?”

IU tries to nod enthusiastically, desperate to show her consent, but with her mouth stuffed full of thick cock and panties, all she can manage is a muffled moan and a slight bob of her head.

Another boy chuckles darkly.

“She’s such a slut.”

Instead of feeling offended, the word sends a fresh wave of arousal through her. IU strokes the cock in her right hand faster and tighter, earning a deep groan from its owner.

“Yeah… let’s put her on the couch.”

Someone else suggests.

Before she can process it, the fat cock slips from her mouth. The two cocks in her hands pull away as well. Multiple strong hands grab her body - her waist, thighs, arms, and shoulders. She feels herself being lifted effortlessly off the floor. A small, helpless sound escapes her as they carry her across the room and set her down on the couch.

They position her on her knees, bent forward over the backrest of the couch. Her ass sticks up invitingly while her upper body rests against the cushioned back. IU opens her mouth immediately, ready to say something flirty or teasing - maybe beg them to use her properly - but she doesn’t get the chance.

A cock immediately pushes back between her lips, sliding deep into her throat and silencing her once again. She moans around it, sucking greedily as two boys grab her wrists. They guide her hands to their hard cocks on either side of her. Her fingers wrap around them instinctively and she starts stroking again, pumping them steadily while another boy uses her mouth.

Hands roam freely over her exposed body, squeezing her ass, spreading her cheeks, teasing her dripping pussy, and playing with her tits. She’s completely at their mercy again, bent over and used like the willing toy she wanted to be.

IU jolts forward sharply when a firm hand delivers a loud smack to her upturned ass. The sudden spank pushes her deeper onto the cock in her mouth, making her choke hard. The boy in front of her immediately holds her head down, keeping her nose pressed against his pelvis as her throat spasms around him. Behind her, someone reaches between her legs and runs two fingers slowly through her soaked pussy lips. She can practically hear the grin in his voice.

“Damn, she’s wet as hell.”

For a fleeting moment she wonders if it’s the same boy who suggested moving her to the couch - the voice sounds familiar - but it’s impossible to focus. The thick cock lodged in her throat makes thinking nearly impossible.

The owner of the cock eventually pulls back, letting her gasp for air. He slaps the heavy, wet shaft against one of her cheeks, then the other. IU obediently opens her mouth wide and sticks her tongue out. He slaps his cock against her tongue once, twice, then smacks it against her cheeks again, leaving strings of her spit across her face.

Another boy reaches into her mouth and hooks his fingers around the drenched panties. He pulls them out with a tug.

“These won’t let our cocks go down her throat properly.”

He says, laughing.

To her humiliation, he then drapes the soaked blue panties over her head like a hat, the wet crotch resting on her forehead. All seven of them burst into laughter. A burning wave of shame rushes through IU. Being used was one thing, she asked for that. But this casual, mocking humiliation hits differently. Yet, to her own surprise, her pussy tingles strongly at their laughter. The idea that these much younger boys are laughing at her, treating her like a pathetic little toy, turns her on even more.

Breathless and flushed, IU manages to speak, her voice hoarse and needy.

“Please… another cock in my mouth.”

Her request is met with more laughter and teasing murmurs. Almost immediately, a new cock pushes past her lips and sinks deep into her throat. She moans around it, sucking eagerly as the boys continue laughing and groping her body, clearly enjoying how desperate their sunbae has become.

IU trembles with anticipation as she feels a hand spreading one of her ass cheeks. The blunt, warm tip of a cock nudges against her soaked pussy, teasing her for a moment before starting to push in.

The fact that she has no idea which of the seven boys is about to fuck her - or even what he looks like - makes her moan around the thick cock in her mouth. Her hands falter in their stroking as the boy behind her slowly sinks into her tight pussy.

“Fuck… she’s so tight and wet.”

He groans, his voice strained with pleasure.

He eases in carefully until his hips press flush against her ass, bottoming out completely. IU can tell he’s slightly smaller than the boy she slept with last week, but for the first one to fuck her tonight, it’s more than enough. The stretch feels perfect. He pulls back slowly until only the tip remains inside her, then pushes back in with a smooth, deep stroke. His hands grip her ass cheeks tightly, holding her in place as he starts fucking her with steady thrusts.

Another boy grabs her waist and lifts her upper body slightly higher on the backrest. Her small tits, which had been rubbing against the fabric, are now free. Immediately, two warm mouths latch onto her nipples - one on each side - sucking and licking. IU keeps moaning around the cock in her mouth, the vibrations traveling down the shaft.

She tries to say something, anything, but the boy fucking her face doesn’t let her pull off. He keeps her mouth full and busy.

“I want her mouth again.”

Someone complains nearby.

The current boy in her mouth laughs.

“Stop being so greedy.”

Another voice chimes in.

“We could just use her mouth together.”

IU’s brain feels foggy with pleasure, the words taking a moment to register. When they do, her eyes widen behind the blindfold.

Before she can fully process it, she feels a second cock pressing against her already-stuffed lips, trying to push in alongside the first one. The boy in her mouth shifts slightly to make room as the second cock forces its way past her stretched lips, both shafts now filling her mouth at the same time. She lets out a muffled, overwhelmed groan as they start moving together, stretching her lips obscenely while the cock in her pussy continues thrusting steadily from behind and the mouths on her tits keep sucking harder.

IU struggles hard to handle the two cocks stretching her mouth. Her lips are pulled wide around both shafts as they slide against each other and her tongue. She tries her best to suck and lick them, but it’s messy and difficult. Drool pours freely from the corners of her stretched mouth, running down her chin and dripping onto the floor. The steady thrusting of the cock buried deep in her pussy doesn’t make it any easier. Every time he slams into her from behind, her body jolts forward, forcing the two cocks in her mouth even deeper and making her gag.

Her hands had stopped actively stroking a while ago. The two boys holding her wrists are now just using her soft palms and fingers to jerk themselves off, guiding her hands up and down their shafts at their own pace. One boy is still sucking and nibbling on her small tits, switching between her sensitive nipples, but eventually he pulls his mouth away as well.

“Anyone wanna swap?”

He asks casually.

IU has no idea who he’s talking to. Before she can even try to guess, the boy behind her suddenly slams his hips hard against her ass, driving his cock deep into her pussy with a loud smack. At the same moment, the two cocks in her mouth push forward together, making her choke violently. The wet, gagging sounds completely drown out whatever reply comes from one of the other boys. She doesn’t catch who answered or what was said. All she knows is the overwhelming sensation of being completely filled and used from every direction - her pussy getting fucked, her mouth stuffed with two cocks, her hands being used, and hands still roaming and groping her body. Her mind is spinning, lost in a haze of pleasure and submission.

IU feels the boy behind her slow his thrusts until he finally stops. His cock twitches inside her soaked pussy as he holds still. The boy who had asked about switching positions is now standing right next to him. She hears the first boy speak.

“Look how greedy her pussy is.”

He slowly pulls all the way out of her. IU can almost feel both of them staring as her pussy lips grip and cling to his cock until he finally slips free, leaving her hole empty and fluttering.

The second boy lets out a shaky breath.

“Fuck… that looks really hot. Can’t wait for my turn.”

“Help me first.”

Says the boy who was just inside her.

“We have to lift her leg.”

IU’s mind is too foggy and overwhelmed to fully understand what they’re planning. She’s still choking and gagging noisily on the two cocks stretching her mouth, her cheeks bulging. One of the boys in front of her uses his hand to lightly slap her bulging cheek a few times, making her whimper around their shafts.

She feels strong hands grabbing her left leg and lifting it high. At first she barely registers what’s happening, but then she feels warm breath against her upper stomach and her leg being lowered again. Someone has sat down on the couch right underneath her. Before she can even process it, she feels a familiar cock nudging against her pussy again. Her ass cheeks are spread wide open as the thick head pushes inside her. It feels different from the previous angle. The boy now sitting underneath her must be the one who was just fucking her.

The other boy, still standing behind her, lines himself up and starts pushing into her pussy as well. IU’s eyes widen behind the blindfold as both cocks slowly stretch her tight hole at the same time. The boy underneath her groans, gripping her hips while the one behind her begins to thrust, pounding into her with growing force. She’s being double-stuffed in her pussy, filled completely by the two young idols while the other five continue using her mouth, hands, and body. The overwhelming fullness makes her whole body shake with pleasure as she chokes helplessly on the two cocks in her mouth.

The group has moved to a hotel suite after their new world tour has begun. The floor-to-ceiling windows offer a stunning view of the brightly lit Tokyo Tower, but none of the boys - or IU - spare it even a glance.

IU is on her knees in the middle of the spacious room, her petite body glistening with sweat. One of the boys is behind her, gripping her hips as he fucks her hard from behind. His hips slap rhythmically against her ass with every thrust, making her small body jolt forward. In front of her, two other boys stand close together, their cocks out. IU alternates between them eagerly, sucking one deep into her mouth for several bobs before pulling off and switching to the other. Her lips stretch around each shaft in turn, her tongue swirling as she tries to please both of them.

A fourth boy lounges on the large bed nearby, leaning back against the headboard. He slowly strokes his cock while watching the scene with hungry eyes, occasionally giving encouragement.

“Shit… look at her go.”

He murmurs, his hand moving up and down his shaft.

IU moans around whichever cock is currently in her mouth. Her pussy clenches tightly around the boy fucking her from behind as she loses herself in the overwhelming sensation of being used by multiple boys at once. She isn’t wearing a blindfold today, but her mind is once again foggy with lust. She has no idea how many rounds they’ve already gone through tonight - only that she doesn’t want it to stop.

The boy behind her groans and starts pounding her harder, driving her forward onto the two cocks in front of her face. She switches between them faster, sucking greedily while her body rocks between the three young idols. The fourth boy on the bed continues stroking himself, waiting for his next turn with a lazy, satisfied grin.

IU senses the boy in front of her getting closer. His cock throbs heavier against her tongue, his breathing grows ragged, and his hips start twitching. She focuses on him immediately, sucking him deeper and faster while her hand strokes the other boy’s cock with quick, firm pumps. She looks up at him with big, pleading doe eyes, silently begging for his cum. The desperate, slutty look in her gaze pushes him over the edge. With a deep groan, he pulls his cock out of her mouth. Thick ropes of warm cum splash across IU’s face, landing on her cheeks, lips, nose, and even a few streaks across her forehead. She keeps her mouth open and tongue out, trying to catch as much as she can while moaning for more.

The other boys barely react. The one fucking her from behind doesn’t miss a single thrust, continuing to pound her pussy with steady strokes. The second boy in front of her simply grabs her head, turns her face toward him, and guides his cock back between her cum-covered lips. IU moans around the new shaft, tasting her own spit mixed with the fresh load on her face as she starts sucking him again without hesitation. The boy who just came steps back with a satisfied sigh and collapses onto the bed next to his friend, breathing heavily as he watches the scene.

Cum drips slowly down IU’s flushed face while she continues servicing the remaining two boys. The one behind her keeps fucking her relentlessly, the wet sounds of their bodies slapping together filling the hotel room. She feels filthy, used, and incredibly turned on, her body eagerly taking whatever they do to her.

IU’s eyes flick toward the door as the last remaining boys walk back into the hotel suite, arms full of shopping bags. She had been wondering where they disappeared to this morning. The boys casually dump the bags onto the bed, the contents spilling out slightly.

One of them grins at her.

“We bought you a present too, noona.”

Still choking and drooling around the cock in her mouth, IU keeps her gaze fixed on the bag one of the boys is reaching into. Her heart races with a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. Her eyes widen when he pulls out a shiny silver ring gag attached to a black leather halter. Some of the other boys cheer and whistle in approval as he walks toward her with it. The cock in her mouth pulls out, leaving her gasping. IU obediently tilts her head up, looking at the boy holding the gag. Cum still glistens on her face as she manages to speak.

“Thank you for the gift…”

He smiles and gently wedges the cold metal ring between her lips, forcing her mouth wide open. He fastens the leather halter securely behind her head, buckling it in place. The ring holds her jaws open perfectly, turning her mouth into a convenient, accessible hole.

Now completely unable to talk, IU can only make muffled, wet sounds. Her tongue rests helplessly behind the ring, drool already starting to spill from the corners of her stretched lips. One of the newly arrived boys steps forward.

“We should try it out.”

IU watches him unzip his pants and pull out his hard cock. He grabs a fistful of her hair, pulls her head forward, and pushes his cock straight through the ring gag and deep into her mouth. The metal ring makes it easy for him to slide all the way in, the head bumping against the back of her throat as he starts fucking her face with long, smooth strokes. The new position combined with the gag makes her drool even more messily down her chin and onto her chest. The boy groans in pleasure, clearly enjoying how perfectly the ring gag holds her mouth open for him while the others watch with hungry expressions.

Now, IU is getting thoroughly spit-roasted between the two boys. The one in front fucks her mouth through the ring gag, his cock sliding easily through the metal ring and deep into her throat with every thrust. Drool pours freely from her stretched-open mouth, dripping down her chin and onto the floor. Behind her, the boy keeps a firm grip on her hips and pounds her pussy with deep, rhythmic strokes, rocking her body back and forth between them like a toy.

One of the boys who just returned from shopping yawns and stretches.

“I’m gonna take a shower real quick.”

He says casually, already heading toward the bathroom as if nothing unusual is happening. The boy who had cum on IU’s face earlier glances over at the one currently buried in her pussy.

“Hey, you wanna go out for dinner in a bit? I’m getting hungry.”

The boy behind her groans, still thrusting into her cunt.

“Yeah, sure… just need to cum first.”

IU’s mind spins as she’s rocked helplessly between the two cocks. It feels almost surreal how casual they’ve all become about this. Just two weeks ago, they had used her for the very first time in that waiting room, nervous, excited, and a little shocked. She had loved it so much that she offered herself to them as their personal fuck toy for the entire upcoming world tour.

And now? This is just normal.

They fuck her whenever they want, talk about dinner and showers while one of them is balls-deep inside her and another is using her throat. Some of the members indulge more than others, but none of them seem to think twice about it anymore. She’s become their shared stress relief, their entertainment, their convenient little cumslut on tour.

The realization sends a fresh wave of humiliated arousal through her body. Her pussy clenches tightly around the cock pounding into her as she moans loudly around the thick shaft sliding through the ring gag. The boy behind IU groans as he buries himself deep inside her and cums. Thick, warm spurts of cum flood her pussy as he grinds against her ass, emptying himself completely. When he finally pulls out, a creamy mess of his load immediately starts trickling out of her stretched hole, dripping down her thighs. Before much of it can escape, another boy kneels behind her. He lines up his cock and pushes in smoothly, sliding through the fresh cum already inside her. He lets out a pleased groan and starts fucking her with long, lazy strokes, using the previous load as extra lubrication.

IU moans helplessly around the cock still sliding through her ring gag, her body swaying between them as the boys continue using her without pause.

One week later, IU stands in front of the large mirror in the hotel bathroom, staring at her reflection. She’s a complete mess, covered in cum from head to toe. Streaks and dried patches decorate her face, neck, chest, and stomach. Her hair is messy, her makeup is ruined, and her thighs are sticky with multiple loads. She looks exhausted… but she can’t deny the satisfied, almost glowing expression in her own eyes. There’s a soft, content smile playing on her lips despite how wrecked she feels.

Next to the mirror hangs a beautiful painting of a traditional Thai temple and golden rooftops, reminding her they’re currently in Bangkok, just another stop on the group’s world tour.

IU lets out a soft, tired breath and slowly makes her way toward the large walk-in shower. Her legs feel shaky, and she can still feel cum leaking down her inner thighs. She turns on the water, letting the warm spray start to wash away the evidence of yet another intense night, sighing softly as the warm water cascades over her exhausted body. It feels heavenly after everything they’ve put her through tonight. She leans backwards, resting the back of her head against the cool tiled wall, then slowly slides her back down until she’s leaning fully against it. Her eyes flutter closed as the water runs down her skin, washing away layers of dried cum. She feels tired to her bones… but also deeply, blissfully satisfied.

Before she even realizes it, her hands start moving on their own. She cups her small tits, kneading them gently, rolling her sensitive nipples between her fingers. A relaxed moan slips from her lips.

“Why am I still so horny?”

She wonders hazily. After weeks of being used almost 24/7 by the seven of them, her body should be spent. Yet here she is, craving more.

One of her hands slides down her wet tummy, over her smooth skin, until her fingers reach her pussy. She starts rubbing her clit in slow, lazy circles, letting out a soft, content moan as the warm water continues to pour over her.

The bathroom door opens, but IU barely turns her head, completely unbothered by the idea of any of them seeing her like this. She recognizes him immediately. The boy with the biggest cock in the group… and also the shyest one.

For a second she assumes he just needs to use the bathroom. After all, she doesn’t have her own hotel room. She simply rotates between their two rooms. But he doesn’t head for the toilet. His eyes are locked on her naked body under the spray. Without saying a word, he hooks his thumbs into his boxers and pushes them down, letting his cock spring free.

IU’s fingers keep lazily circling her clit as she watches him, a tired but playful smile forming on her lips.

“Mmm… waited until you could have me all to yourself, huh?”

She teases, her voice a little hoarse from the night’s activities.

“Come here, big boy… the water’s nice and warm.”

IU gives him a soft, inviting smile as he steps into the shower, the warm water immediately soaking his skin. He’s clearly nervous, despite the impressive size of his cock hanging heavy between his legs. She sees the perfect opportunity. If she can make him more confident, maybe he’ll stop holding back and fuck her more often like the others.

He can’t hold eye contact for more than a second or two. Instead, his gaze drifts down her body, drinking in every inch of her. IU slowly moves her hands away from her tits and pussy, letting them fall to her sides. She stands there completely open for him, water streaming down her petite frame, giving him an unobstructed view of her naked, glistening body. No hands covering her, no other cocks inside her for once. Just her, fully exposed for him alone.

He swallows hard, eyes roaming over her breasts, her slim waist, and the smooth skin between her thighs.

“Is… is it okay if it’s just the two of us here?”

He asks shyly, voice barely louder than the running water.

IU’s expression softens with an encouraging smile. She steps closer, placing one gentle hand on his shoulder while the other slides down his chest and wraps around his thick cock. The water makes her strokes smooth and slick as she slowly pumps him. She leans in, pressing her wet body lightly against his, her lips brushing teasingly against his ear.

“I thought the word fucktoy was pretty much self-explanatory.”

She whispers warmly, giving his cock a slow, firm stroke.

“You can have me whenever you want, baby. Alone or with the others. You don’t have to ask.”

She kisses the side of his neck softly, still stroking him as she waits for him to make the next move, hoping to coax out the confidence she knows is hiding inside him.

The boy hesitates for a few long seconds, his breathing shaky. Then, as if gathering courage, he reaches out and gently places his hands on her slim waist. He steps closer until their bodies are fully pressed together under the warm spray. IU keeps one hand wrapped around his thick cock, guiding the heavy head between her legs. She rubs it slowly along her slick folds before positioning him at her entrance.

A soft moan escapes her as he starts pushing in. Her pussy is already a little sore from weeks of near-constant use, and his impressive size makes the stretch even more intense. She feels every thick inch spreading her open as he sinks deeper.

He soon bottoms out with a low groan, his hips flush against hers. For a moment he stays buried inside her, savoring the feeling. Then he begins to move, fucking her against the tiled wall.

IU gasps when he leans down and presses his lips to her neck, kissing and sucking gently on her wet skin. Her hands fly up to grip his shoulders for support as he starts pounding her properly. His thrusts become deeper and more powerful, the sound of wet skin slapping together mixing with the running water. She clings to him, her small tits pressed against his chest. The shy boy is finally letting go, driving into her with surprising intensity, his thick cock stretching her sore but soaking pussy with every stroke. IU’s voice comes out in needy, broken moans as she clings to his shoulders.

“Please… own me with your cock.”

She begs breathlessly, her words echoing softly in the shower.

“It’s so big… I want you to use me. Make me yours too…”

Her encouragement seems to flip a switch in him. He picks up the pace, fucking her harder and faster against the tiled wall. The back of IU’s head keeps bumping against the cool tiles in the rhythm of his thrusts. It’s not hard enough to hurt or give her a headache, but the constant little impacts mix with the overwhelming pleasure, making her mind even hazier.

The boy suddenly notices and slows for a second, concern flashing across his face. He doesn’t want to hurt her.

He spins them around, so his back is now against the wall. Then he lifts IU clean off the floor, his hands gripping her small waist. She instinctively wraps her legs around his hips as he holds her up. Now he’s carrying her entire weight, fucking her onto his massive cock with powerful strokes. Gravity helps him drive even deeper inside her with every bounce. IU moans louder, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and her head resting on his shoulder as he uses her like this. Water cascades over their bodies while he fucks her in mid-air, his thick cock slamming up into her again and again. IU’s small frame bounces on his cock, her pussy clenching tightly around him as she whimpers in pleasure against his neck. The feeling of being lifted and fucked so effortlessly makes her head spin with pleasure.

“Mmm, is that all you’ve got?”

She teases against his ear, a playful, challenging tone in her voice.

“I thought you were supposed to own me… Come on, baby. Fuck your little toy harder.”

He groans at her words, his grip on her waist tightening. Encouraged, IU keeps pushing him.

“Harder… I can take it. Destroy this tight little cunt you all love so much.”

She moans, using dirty words on purpose to rile him up.

“Don’t be gentle with me. I’m your fucktoy, remember? Use me.”

She repeats it again and again, whispering filthy encouragement between moans, nipping at his ear, rolling her hips to meet his thrusts. Each time she eggs him on, she feels his cock throb harder inside her.

But eventually, he’s had enough. With a low, almost animalistic growl, he slams her down onto his cock with all his strength. His hips snap upward violently, driving his massive length into her used pussy with brutal force. The wet, obscene sound of him destroying her tight cunt echoes through the shower as he fucks her with everything he has.

IU’s eyes roll back, a loud, broken cry escaping her lips as he completely lets go. He’s pounding her mercilessly now, lifting her up and slamming her back down onto his cock over and over, using her like a fleshlight. Her small body bounces helplessly in his arms, her pussy stretched wide around his girth as he destroys her with deep, powerful strokes.

“Yes-! Just like that…! Fuck me… ruin me…!”

The shy boy is gone. In his place is someone finally unleashing his full strength, fucking her senseless underneath the running shower. He slams her down onto his massive cock again and again, his hips snapping up with devastating force. Each deep plunge stretches her sore pussy to its limit, the wet, filthy sounds echoing loudly in the shower.

The intensity finally pushes IU over the edge. She cums hard around his cock, her walls clenching and spasming violently. Her entire body twitches and shakes uncontrollably in his arms as a powerful orgasm rips through her. A broken, high-pitched moan escapes her lips while her legs tighten around his waist. He slows his thrusts, letting her ride out the intense waves of pleasure, his thick cock still buried deep inside her fluttering pussy.

Right as her orgasm starts to fade, the bathroom door opens again. Two more boys walk in, clearly looking for her. Their eyes widen when they see the scene, IU being held up and fucked senseless in the shower.

Without a word, both of them pull down their boxers, freeing their hard cocks, and step closer under the spray. The boy carrying IU shifts his hands from her waist to her ass, gripping her cheeks firmly. Without the support on her waist and still weak from her orgasm, IU’s upper body falls backward. Her head tilts all the way back, hanging upside down, her wet hair dangling as her mouth ends up at the perfect height for the two new cocks right in front of her face. The boy holding her starts thrusting into her pussy again, slower but still deep and strong. At the same time, IU opens her mouth obediently. One of the new boys immediately pushes his cock past her lips, sliding into her throat from this upside-down angle. The second boy rubs his cock against her cheek and lips, waiting for his turn.

IU starts sucking them eagerly, alternating between the two cocks as best she can in her awkward, helpless position. Her body rocks between the three boys, one destroying her pussy while she services the other two with her mouth. Drool runs down her upside-down face, mixing with the shower water as she moans around their shafts, completely lost in being used once again. The two in front take turns sliding their cocks into her upside-down mouth, fucking her throat while her head hangs back helplessly.

IU is amazed at their stamina. She swears she already worked at least two loads out of each of the seven of them today alone. Some in the morning, some during the day, and plenty more tonight. And yet here they are, still hard, still eager, still using her holes like they can’t get enough. As exhausted as her body feels, she also loves it. She craves the never-ending attention they give her body. Being wanted this desperately by seven young, horny boys fulfills something deep inside her. She genuinely can’t remember the last time she went to sleep without at least one cock inside her, or the last time she woke up to a different one fucking her awake. These days she barely wears clothes anymore. The only time she puts anything on is when they travel to a new city or when she accompanies them to a concert, and even then, it’s usually just so they can use her quickly in the dressing room before and after the show.

Right now, held in the air and passed between three cocks, IU feels exactly where she belongs. Her muffled moans vibrate around whichever shaft is currently stretching her throat as the boy holding her continues to pound her pussy with deep, possessive strokes. The endless cycle of pleasure and use has become her new normal…and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

The boy holding IU up continues fucking her pussy with hard, reckless thrusts, bouncing her small body on his thick cock. She focuses on the two boys in front of her, using her mouth and tongue as best she can from her upside-down position.

It doesn’t take long. She sucks and strokes them eagerly until both are groaning and twitching. One after another, they pull out and unload on her face. Thick ropes of warm cum splash across her cheeks, nose, forehead, and chin. Some of it drips down into her eyes, making them sting as the cum mixes with the shower water. IU gasps and blinks rapidly, her vision blurring slightly from the mess. The sight of her pretty face completely covered in their cum proves too much for the boy fucking her. With a deep, rough groan, he slams her down hard onto his cock one final time and cums deep inside her pussy. She feels pulse after pulse of hot cum painting her walls white, filling her already sore cunt until it starts leaking out around his shaft. He holds her there for a long moment, buried to the hilt as he finishes pumping his load into her. IU hangs limply in his arms, breathing heavily, her face a sticky, cum-drenched mess and her pussy overflowing with his seed.

The three boys catch their breath, clearly satisfied. The one holding her gently lowers her legs back to the floor, keeping an arm around her waist to support her shaky body as the warm water continues to wash over all of them.

Tonight, the boys rented a private karaoke room in downtown Los Angeles. Colorful lights flash across the walls while two of the boys are having the time of their lives singing their hearts out at the machine, laughing and hyping each other up.

The rest of them are far more interested in using IU’s body. She’s in the middle of the large U-shaped sofa. One boy is sitting back comfortably with IU straddling him, her back pressed against his chest. Another boy stands in front of her between her spread legs. Both of their cocks are buried deep inside her pussy at the same time, stretching her wide as they thrust into her in alternating rhythms. IU’s upper body is twisted awkwardly to the left, her head turned so another boy can use her mouth. The silver ring gag keeps her lips stretched open perfectly as he fucks her throat with steady strokes. Her hands are busy too, each one wrapped around the cock of the last two boys standing on either side of her. She strokes them firmly, occasionally switching her grip or speeding up whenever they groan for more.

The contrast is almost surreal. The two boys at the karaoke machine are belting out lyrics and laughing, while right next to them, the other five are casually using IU like a shared sex toy. Her small body rocks and jolts between the three cocks filling her holes and the two in her hands. Cum from earlier rounds still leaks from her used holes, making everything even slicker as the boys continue to enjoy their private party.

The song the two boys were singing finally comes to an end with loud, off-key cheers from them both. One of them sets the microphone down and walks over to the group with a grin.

“I want a turn too.”

He says eagerly.

Another boy, still buried inside IU’s stretched pussy, laughs.

“She’s already full, man. You’ll have to wait.”

A third boy, the one currently fucking her mouth through the ring gag, smirks.

“Not every hole is filled yet.”

A cold shudder runs down IU’s spine. She has no problem with anal in general, but the idea of all three holes being used at the same time makes her stomach tighten with nervousness. She’s not sure her body can handle that much right now.

Another voice chimes in excitedly.

“We should give it a try.”

The two boys currently double-stuffing her pussy slow down and eventually come to a stop. The one she’s sitting on pulls his cock out of her cum-filled cunt with a wet sound. Before she can even catch her breath, she feels the blunt head of his cock nudge against her tight asshole. IU shakes her head frantically, trying to tell them they need lube - at least some spit or something - but the thick cock in her mouth and the ring gag turn her protests into incoherent, muffled noises.

For the first time since she offered herself to them, a flicker of genuine regret washes over her. These are still young, horny, and sometimes inexperienced boys who get carried away in the heat of the moment.

She gasps abruptly as he starts pushing into her ass without any proper lubrication. The burning stretch and discomfort make her eyes squeeze shut. Her body tenses, a low, strained whimper pulsing around the cock in her throat as he slowly forces his way into her tight, unprepared hole. The boy beneath her groans in pleasure, gripping her hips tightly while the others watch with hungry fascination, clearly eager to see how far they can push their shared toy.

IU struggles at first, her body tensing hard against the dry intrusion in her ass. She breathes heavily through her nose, doing her best to relax her muscles despite the burning stretch. The boy beneath her is surprisingly patient, pushing in slowly inch by inch until, with a deep groan, he finally bottoms out completely inside her tight ass.

Before IU can even adjust to the overwhelming fullness, the boy who just finished singing has his cock out and is already positioning himself at her dripping pussy. Her eyes widen in shock as she watches him line up and push forward.

She can’t believe it.

Her mouth is stuffed with a cock sliding through the ring gag, her ass is completely filled, and now her pussy is being stretched open again as the new boy sinks deep inside her. Every single one of her holes is full. Her pussy is taking its third cock of the night with the second one still being inside of it, while her ass is claimed at the same time.

When all four boys start moving again, IU’s mind melts into a foggy, overwhelming mix of ecstasy and discomfort. The sharp burn in her ass clashes with the deep, pleasurable fullness in her pussy and the relentless throat-fucking. Her small body rocks helplessly between them, jolting with every thrust as they use her simultaneously. Muffled, wet gagging sounds escape around the cock in her mouth while her eyes flutter, tears of overstimulation mixing with earlier loads of cum still drying on her face. The sensation of being so completely stuffed - four cocks owning all her holes at once - pushes her deeper into a hazy, submissive headspace. The discomfort in her ass slowly starts blending into the overwhelming pleasure as her body struggles to accommodate them all.

The boys groan and praise her between thrusts, clearly thrilled at how well their personal fucktoy is taking everything they give her. They keep using IU relentlessly, their rhythms slowly syncing up as they fuck her holes without mercy. One of the boys whose cock she’s jerking off with her right hand groans.

“Fuck… how does her ass feel?”

The boy beneath her, buried deep in her tightest hole, tries to answer but can barely form words.

“So… fucking tight.”

He gasps.

“I can feel the two of you in her pussy pressing against me… her hole is squeezing me so hard I can barely move.”

IU keeps shaking mindlessly between them, her small body jolting back and forth. Muffled, desperate moans vibrate around the thick cock sliding through her ring gag as drool runs down her chin.

One of the boys laughs, clearly amused.

“Look at her. She must really love having all her holes filled like this.”

One of the boys currently in her pussy reaches down between their bodies and finds her swollen clit. His fingers start rubbing firm, fast circles over the sensitive bud while he continues thrusting into her alongside the other cock.

The added stimulation quickly becomes too much. IU’s eyes roll back as a powerful orgasm crashes through her. Her entire body convulses violently between the four boys, her pussy and ass clamping around the cocks inside her, her muffled screams vibrating around the shaft in her mouth. Her hands tighten around the two cocks she’s stroking as she shakes and trembles through the intense climax. The boys all groan at the feeling of her holes squeezing them even tighter during her orgasm, but they don’t stop. They keep fucking her straight through it, drawing out her pleasure until she’s a twitching, overstimulated mess between them.

The 7th boy steps closer, stroking his hard cock as he watches. The boy currently using IU’s mouth notices and quickly pulls out. Before she can even gasp for air or say a single word, he yanks the ring gag off her head and immediately pushes his cock back between her lips. The 7th boy steps in right beside him and forces his own cock past her stretched lips as well.

IU’s mind fractures. All three of her holes are now completely filled, two thick cocks stretching her pussy, one deep in her ass, and now two cocks forcing their way into her mouth at the same time. Her jaw aches as her lips stretch crassly around both shafts, drool pouring down her chin while they start thrusting into her throat together.

The overwhelming fullness breaks something inside her. She cums again almost immediately, harder than before. Her entire body jerks ferociously between the five boys, her pussy and ass clamping down like a vice around the cocks buried inside her. Muffled, broken screams pulse around the two cocks in her mouth as her eyes roll back and tears stream down her cum-stained cheeks. Her hands keep stroking the last two boys weakly, her mind too wrecked to do anything else.

When the orgasm finally subsides, IU is left breathless, trembling, and completely destroyed. Her small body twitches helplessly between them, utterly used and broken in the most blissful way. She barely dares to think about what would happen if one of the boys whose cock she’s stroking decided to join the one in her ass… two cocks in every single hole at once. The mere thought makes her shudder with a mix of fear and dark, overwhelming arousal.

The arena is buzzing with energy as the concert is about to start. In a smaller room just down the hall from their main dressing room, three of the boys are taking one last moment with IU before they have to go on stage.

She’s on her knees in the middle of the room, completely naked except for the black rope binding her body. Her wrists are tied tightly together, and her legs are bound together at the ankles and knees, forcing her into a helpless, folded position. The ropes accentuate her petite frame, putting her small tits and dripping pussy on full display. Two of the boys are sitting on the couch in front of her. IU alternates between their cocks, sucking one deep into her mouth while stroking the other with her bound hands as best she can. Her head bobs sloppily, drool running down her chin as she services them eagerly. Behind her, the third boy is kneeling, gripping her hips. Thanks to the lube she taught them to use properly after that painful first time, his thick cock slides smoothly into her ass. He fucks her with firm, deep thrusts, groaning at how tight she still feels even after weeks of use.

“Mmmph-!”

IU moans around the cock in her mouth, her body rocking forward with every thrust into her ass. The ropes keep her perfectly in place as she’s used from both ends, her eyes half-lidded with lust.

One of the boys in front of her tangles his fingers in her hair, guiding her mouth deeper onto his shaft while the one behind her picks up the pace, pounding her lubed ass harder. The wet, filthy sounds of her sucking and getting fucked fill the small room, mixing with their low groans.

They still have a few minutes before they need to join the others and go on stage. For now, they’re fully enjoying their personal pre-show ritual, using their favorite toy to get rid of the last bit of nerves. IU, bound and dripping, takes everything they give her with eager, submissive moans.

Suddenly, a sharp knock comes from the door.

A staff member’s voice calls out.

“Guys! Concert starts in five minutes! You need to get ready!”

The boy whose cock IU is currently sucking groans in frustration.

“Fuck… work a bit quicker, noona. We need to finish.”

IU immediately obeys, sucking them with renewed desperation. She bobs her head faster, taking them as deep as she can while her tongue works frantically. Her ass clenches around the cock pounding into her from behind as she tries to please all three of them at once. The pressure and her eager efforts quickly push the boy in her ass over the edge. He grips her bound hips tightly and buries himself deep inside her with a low, shaky groan.

“Shit… her ass feels so good.”

He gasps as he starts cuming. Thick ropes of warm cum flood her tight hole, filling her up as he grinds against her ass. He stays buried inside her for a few moments, savoring the feeling, before slowly pulling out. A trickle of his load leaks from her used asshole and runs down her thigh. The two boys in front of her are breathing hard, clearly close as well, their hands guiding her head as she desperately sucks them off, trying to make them cum before they have to leave for the stage.

Both boys groan almost at the same time. The one in her mouth cums first, shooting thick ropes of cum straight down her throat. She swallows as much as she can, but some still leaks from the corners of her lips. At the same moment, the second boy groans and unloads over her hand, covering her fingers and wrist with warm cum.

One of them gives her an approving pat on the head, ruffling her hair.

“Good girl.”

The other smirks down at her.

“Good job, slut.”

They both stand up, quickly pulling up their pants and getting dressed. Within seconds, they’re heading out the door. IU breathes hard, trying to catch her breath. She brings her cum-covered hand to her mouth and starts licking it clean, savoring the taste. Then she feels the boy who had been fucking her ass move behind her again. He pushes a thick vibrator into her already soaked and cum-filled pussy. She gasps at the sudden stretch, but doesn’t think much of it.

Until he turns it on.

The vibrator immediately roars to life on the highest setting. Intense, powerful vibrations surge through her entire body. IU’s eyes widen and she lets out a loud, broken moan as her overstimulated pussy clenches hard around the buzzing toy. Her head falls forward, body shaking brutally as the overwhelming sensations make it hard to think. It takes her several long seconds just to regain some clarity.

When she finally manages to lift her head and look around, horror washes over her.

The room is empty. The three boys are gone, already heading to the stage for the concert. She’s left alone, tied up with black rope, completely naked, with a powerful vibrator buried deep in her pussy on its maximum setting, buzzing mercilessly inside her. Cum leaks from her used ass and drips down her thighs as the toy continues to drive her closer and closer to another orgasm. IU’s eyes lock onto the small remote control for the vibrator, lying temptingly on the armrest of the couch. Just barely out of reach. With her wrists tied tightly and her legs bound together, there’s no way she can grab it. Especially not with the toy already on its highest setting, relentlessly buzzing inside her soaked pussy.

She’s right on the edge. The first orgasm crashes over her without mercy. IU spasms violently on her knees, her whole body shaking and jerking against the black ropes as a loud, broken moan tears from her throat. Her pussy clenches hard around the vibrating toy, juices dripping down her thighs and mixing with the cum already leaking from her ass. It takes her a long time to come down, gasping and trembling. But the vibrator doesn’t slow down even for a second. The intense, high-frequency buzzing keeps pushing her toward another peak almost immediately.

She can’t believe they left her like this. Usually, when they have concerts or long schedules, they let her rest, take a bath, watch a movie, or even go out to eat if she wants. But tonight, for whatever reason, they decided to leave her bound and helpless backstage with a powerful vibrator buried deep inside her on maximum.

Another orgasm is already building fast. IU whimpers, her body twitching as the pleasure borders on overstimulation. She’s stuck here, naked, tied up, covered in cum, and forced to cum again and again until the boys come back after the concert. The thought of how long their set usually lasts makes her shudder with a mix of dread and dark arousal. She has no choice but to take it, wave after wave, until they finally return to untie her.

IU remains trapped in that torturous state of endless pleasure, her body helplessly rocking on her knees in the middle of the room. Through the walls, she can faintly hear the concert happening. The roar of the crowd, the pulsing music, and the boys’ voices singing. Every time a song ends and the cheers explode, she knows another few minutes have passed. The longer it drags on, the more desperate she becomes. The black rope digs painfully into her wrists and ankles, cutting into her soft skin. Her limbs have started going slightly numb from the restrictive position, but she can barely focus on the discomfort. The powerful vibrator buried deep in her pussy keeps buzzing ruthlessly on its highest setting, forcing orgasm after orgasm out of her exhausted body.

Her mind is in a constant foggy, hazy state, pleasure and overstimulation blending together until she can barely think. She cums again and again, sometimes with barely any break between them. Her body twitches and shakes as fresh waves of ecstasy rip through her. Drool runs down her chin. Tears of overwhelming sensation streak her flushed cheeks. Cum from earlier slowly leaks from her used ass and mixes with her own juices dripping onto the floor beneath her.

She loses track of time completely. All she knows is the relentless vibration inside her, the distant sound of the concert, and the growing, aching desperation for it to finally end. Her body is completely at the mercy of the toy they left inside her, forced to endure wave after wave of pleasure while she waits helplessly for the boys to return. And she keeps drifting deeper into a state of mindless, overwhelming pleasure.

Every time a song ends and the crowd erupts in cheers, a tiny spark of hope flickers in her fogged mind.

“This is it. They’re finished. They’ll come back and release me.”

But then the next song starts, and the cycle of desperate anticipation begins again. Each false hope crushes her a little more.

Her body keeps twitching and shaking as orgasm after orgasm is ripped from her. The vibrator buzzes endlessly inside her overstimulated pussy, showing no mercy. At some point, she can no longer tell if she’s fully conscious or if she keeps passing out from the intensity. Time loses all meaning. Her mind is floating in a thick, hazy fog of pure sensation.

Eventually, even the distant sound of the concert fades away. She doesn’t know whether the show is finally over and the arena has gone quiet… or if her mind has simply gone so far gone that she can no longer process any sounds at all. The only thing she’s aware of is the relentless, powerful vibrations deep inside her and the constant, overwhelming waves of pleasure-pain crashing through her exhausted body.

She’s completely lost, tied up, dripping with cum and her own juices, trembling on her knees in the empty room. A broken, mindless toy waiting for her owners to finally return.

IU stirs weakly when she hears footsteps approaching the door. Her head feels impossibly heavy. She can barely lift it. Her cheek is still pressed against the couch. For a terrifying second, panic cuts through the fog. What if it’s staff? What if someone else finds her like this? Naked, tied up, covered in cum, with a vibrator still buzzing cruelly inside her.

The door opens.

Relief washes over her when she sees familiar faces. She can’t tell if it’s just a few of them or all seven. Her brain is too clouded to count or focus properly. Their voices sound distant and muffled, like they’re speaking underwater. She catches fragments of laughter and casual conversation, but none of the words fully register.

A small flicker of hope blooms in her chest.

“Please… turn it off…”

Instead, someone kneels behind her. She feels the blunt head of a cock press against her already sore and leaking asshole. A weak, broken whimper escapes her drooling lips as he pushes inside her. She can’t even make a proper sound of protest or pleasure. Her head lolls on the couch cushion, eyes half-lidded and crossed as he starts thrusting into her ass. The vibrator in her pussy continues buzzing on full power, making the double penetration feel even more overwhelming.

She lies there completely passive, taking his cock. Drool runs from the corner of her mouth onto the couch while her bound body rocks limply with each deep stroke. Her mind is still too far gone to do anything but endure. She looks like a pleasure-filled, almost lifeless doll. Her body is completely spent, too exhausted to even orgasm anymore. She just takes the cock thrusting into her ass with weak, limp twitches, her mind floating in a deep, hazy fog. Every movement feels distant, like it’s happening to someone else.

The boy using her ass gives her a firm spank. The sharp sting blooms across her skin, but she can barely register the sound of the slap. It’s muffled and far away in her clouded mind. She only feels the heat of the impact.

Then, though she can’t properly hear it, one of the boys speaks up.

“Take the vibrator out. I want her pussy.”

IU’s heavy-lidded eyes barely manage to focus as one of them reaches for the remote lying on the couch. A moment later, the relentless, maddening buzzing deep inside her pussy finally dies down. The sudden absence of the intense vibrations leaves her feeling strangely empty. A weak, shaky breath escapes her drooling lips as the boy behind her continues slowly fucking her ass, waiting for his friend to pull the toy out of her overstimulated cunt.

IU feels everything happening to her as if she’s watching someone else experience it from far away… yet every sensation still crashes through her exhausted body with full intensity. The boy in her ass keeps thrusting lazily while another pulls the vibrator out of her pussy. Almost immediately, a different cock replaces it, sliding into her slick cunt. Within minutes, all seven of the boys have gathered around her bound, helpless body.

She is completely surrounded. Two thick cocks stretch her pussy at the same time, pounding into her with deep, alternating thrusts. Another boy is buried in her ass, fucking her with slow but vigorous strokes. Two more stand in front of her, taking turns using her mouth, sliding their cocks past her lips and down her throat while she drools helplessly. Her bound hands are wrapped around the last two boys’ dicks, who use her soft palms and fingers to stroke themselves.

IU is a limp, broken mess in the center of them all. Her small body rocks and jolts weakly between the seven young boys as they use every single one of her holes and hands without mercy. Muffled, wet gagging sounds escape around the cocks in her mouth while her eyes remain glassy and unfocused.

She can barely think. All that exists is the overwhelming sensation of being completely filled and used by all of them at once. Her mind drifts in and out of the heavy fog of pleasure and exhaustion, reduced to nothing but a warm, willing fucktoy.

IU barely registers one of the boys whose cock she was stroking stepping back. Her mind is too far gone to make sense of it. A moment later, the boy thrusting into her ass slows down and holds still, buried deep inside her. She expects them to simply switch places like they often do. Instead, she feels the second boy - the one who had been using her hand - pressing the head of his cock against her already-stuffed asshole, right alongside the first one.

Her eyes widen slightly, a weak, broken sound escaping around the two cocks in her mouth as her body instinctively tenses. Two cocks. In her ass. At the same time.

The boy already inside her ass groans and holds her hips steady while his friend slowly pushes forward. IU’s tight ring stretches painfully around the second thick cock as he forces his way in alongside the first. The burning, overwhelming fullness makes her whole body shudder violently.

At the same time, the two boys double-stuffing her pussy keep fucking her without pause, their cocks sliding against each other inside her soaked cunt.

IU’s mind struggles to comprehend the sheer intensity of it. Two cocks stretching her pussy and now two thick cocks forcing their way into her ass at the same time. Her small, bound body trembles nonstop between all seven boys as they push her limits. A muffled, overwhelmed cry vibrates around the cocks in her mouth as her holes are stretched to their absolute maximum. All seven of the boys continue using IU ruthlessly, casually switching positions whenever they feel like it.

Sometimes the two in her pussy pull out and are replaced by different boys. Other times one of the boys in her mouth steps back so another can take his place. They rotate between her holes, treating her like their personal, living sex doll. At one point, the two cocks in her ass are replaced by a different pair. Her body is passed around and repositioned without ever being fully empty.

IU hangs in a constant, hazy state of overwhelming sensation. Every so often, she feels the familiar build-up, the tingling pressure of an impending orgasm. Her body twitches and her holes clench weakly around the cocks inside her… but nothing comes.

She stays trapped right on the edge, unable to tip over. Her body is simply too numb, too exhausted, and too overstimulated to actually cum anymore. The pleasure builds and builds but never releases, leaving her in a torturous limbo of desperate, unfinished need. She drools helplessly around whichever cocks are currently using her mouth, her eyes glassy and unfocused. Her bound limbs barely twitch anymore as the boys keep fucking her holes and using her hands. Satisfied groans fill the room around her as they enjoy their broken little toy after the long concert.

IU has completely lost track of time. All she knows is the endless feeling of being stuffed full from every direction, hovering helplessly on the brink of orgasm without any hope of relief. They rotate around her bound body in a constant rhythm, cocks sliding in and out of her pussy, ass, and mouth in an endless cycle. Sometimes two in her pussy, sometimes two in her ass, always at least one (often two) in her mouth. Her hands are kept busy stroking whichever boys aren’t currently inside her holes.

Every now and then one of them groans and cums, either deep inside her pussy, her ass, or across her body. IU feels nothing but warmth spreading through her as their loads paint her insides or splatter across her skin, tits, and face. She’s already so full and covered that it barely registers anymore. Whenever someone cums in her mouth, she gags and chokes weakly. Her body is too tired to swallow properly, so thick cum spills from the corners of her stretched lips, mixing with her drool and dripping down her chin in messy strings. She coughs and sputters around the next cock that immediately replaces the one that just finished.

Her mind has gone almost completely blank. She’s no longer thinking, only existing as a warm, wet, used hole for them. Her small body twitches and jolts limply between the seven young boys as they keep enjoying her, completely unbothered by how broken and exhausted she has become.

The doorbell rings through IU’s quiet apartment. She feels a flutter of excitement in her stomach as she walks over to open the door. It’s strangely surreal to realize that for almost two full months they had used her almost every single day - usually multiple times a day - yet none of the boys had ever been to her apartment before. This would be their first time seeing her personal space.

When she opens the door, her face lights up with a bright, excited smile. All seven of them are standing there, casually dressed and already looking at her with that familiar hungry glint in their eyes.

“Hi…”

She says carefully, stepping aside to let them in. Her voice carries a playful, needy tone.

“Come in.”

Just one week without them had been enough for her body to mostly recover. The constant soreness had faded, her holes had tightened back up, and the exhaustion had lifted. But that week had also left her aching in a completely different way. Her body missed being used. Craved it.

She was more than ready for them to break her all over again.

As the boys step inside and close the door behind them, IU can already feel the familiar heat building between her legs. She bites her lip, looking up at them with sparkling, anticipatory eyes.

“I’ve been waiting for this.”

She admits quietly, her voice soft but dripping with excitement.

“One last time… before everything goes back to normal. Use me as much as you want tonight.”

They largely ignore her filthy invitation.

One of them immediately asks her.

“Where’s the bathroom?”

Then he starts walking down the hallway before IU can even finish pointing him in the right direction. Another heads straight for the kitchen.

“I’m thirsty.”

He mutters, already opening her cabinets and grabbing a glass like he’s been here a hundred times.

IU stands there in the middle of her own living room, feeling oddly insulted by how casually they’re intruding into her private space. At the same time, their complete indifference to her obvious desire to be used again makes her cheeks burn. She’s already dripping wet under her dress, aching for their attention, yet they’re acting like this is just another casual hangout.

Finally, one of the boys steps closer. He tilts her chin up with two fingers, forcing her to look at him. IU smiles up at him hopefully, her heart beating faster. His eyes slowly drift down her body, taking in the elegant black-and-white strapless dress that hugs her petite frame. He lets out a small chuckle.

“You didn’t have to dress up so nicely.”

He says, almost dismissively.

“You could’ve just answered the door naked. Would’ve saved time.”

IU blushes deeply, a sharp sting of shame washing over her. She had wanted to look pretty for them tonight, to feel a little bit like the elegant, older idol again instead of just their toy. But with one sentence, he made her feel small again.

His hand slides down from her chin, over her neck, and along her waist, gripping her possessively through the thin fabric of the dress. The casual touch makes her shiver with renewed need, even as the humiliation burns in her chest.

Another boy steps forward, joining the first one in front of her. The first boy gives her ass another hard, possessive squeeze through the elegant dress, making her gasp. At the same time, the second boy places a firm hand on her bare shoulder and gently but insistently guides her down.

IU’s attempt to look dignified and put-together completely shatters in seconds. She sinks obediently to her knees right there on the floor of her own living room, the strapless dress bunching up around her. The fabric that had made her feel elegant and sexy just moments ago now feels almost ridiculous as she kneels submissively before them.

Five of the boys step closer, surrounding her. The sound of zippers being pulled down fills the room as they free their cocks one after another. They stand over her, stroking themselves while looking down at her with that familiar mix of hunger and casual ownership.

IU looks up at them from her knees, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and arousal. Her elegant image as the respected older idol is gone in an instant, replaced once again by their eager, willing little fucktoy.

One of the boys reaches down and lightly taps her cheek with his cock.

“Open up.”

IU obediently opens her mouth wide. Two cocks immediately slide in, stretching her lips around their combined thickness. By now, having her mouth stuffed with two cocks at once feels completely normal to her. At the very beginning it had felt strange and difficult - her jaw aching, her gag reflex constantly triggered - but after nearly two months of near-daily use, she can take them both comfortably, her tongue working between them as best she can.

She reaches out with both hands, wrapping her fingers around two different cocks and starting to stroke them steadily. The familiar, filthy rhythm returns instantly.

But only after a few moments, the fifth boy grabs her wrist and pulls one of her hands off the cock she was stroking. He guides her hand to his own shaft instead, silently demanding her attention. IU doesn’t resist. She simply adjusts, now stroking three different cocks in rotation while sucking the two in her mouth.

The boys stand around her in a loose circle, casually using her face. One of them lightly pets her hair as she works, like one might pet a well-behaved pet.

Her elegant dress gets occasionally stepped on as she kneels there on the floor of her own apartment, serving all five of them at once. The wet, sloppy sounds of her sucking and the soft strokes of her hands fill the room. She feels small, used, and strangely content, exactly where she belongs in this final session with them.

The boy who had gone to get a drink walks up behind her, still holding the glass in one hand.

“Fuck… I can’t believe I went a whole week without this pussy around my cock.”

IU doesn’t respond, her mouth is too full, stretched wide around two cocks, while her hands keep stroking two others. She can only moan softly around the shafts as the boy behind her kneels down and starts peppering her bare shoulders and upper back with wet kisses.

Another boy, one whose cock she’s currently stroking, groans.

“I’d love to use her forever. Never stop. Just keep her as our personal toy.”

The words send a rush of conflicting emotions through IU. For a moment, she imagines it, years of being their constant fucktoy, servicing their cocks every single day, her body and holes always available. The thought makes her pussy throb with excitement… but there’s also uncertainty. Could her mind and body even handle that? And what about the risk of scandals if they ever got caught?

Before she can dwell on it, the boy behind her lifts the hem of her dress, bunching it up around her waist and exposing her ass. He yanks her panties roughly to the side. IU doesn’t stop sucking and stroking for even a second. She feels the head of his cock press against her dripping entrance, then push inside her in one deep thrust. A muffled moan vibrates around the two cocks in her mouth as he fills her pussy completely. He immediately starts fucking her, one hand gripping her hip.

IU lies face-down on her own bed, completely naked and tightly bound. Her wrists are tied together behind her back, and her ankles are bound to her wrists in a strict hogtie position, forcing her back into a deep arch. Her legs are spread as wide as the ropes allow. Her hair is gathered and tied back with her own panties to keep it out of the way.

Three boys kneel in front of her head, taking turns skullfucking her. Because of the position, she can barely move her head, so they simply grip her hair and fuck her throat raw, one after another. Wet gagging and choking sounds fill the room as they use her mouth like a fleshlight. Behind her, two boys are double-stuffing her pussy, their cocks stretching her wide as they thrust into her soaked cunt. At the same time, the last two boys are fucking her ass together, their thick shafts forcing her tightest hole open as they pound into her.

IU lies there helplessly, her petite body rocking and jolting between all seven boys. Drool pours from her mouth onto the sheets as she’s relentlessly gagged. Her holes are stretched to their absolute limit - two cocks in her pussy and two in her ass at the same time - while the three in front keep rotating in and out of her throat.

She can barely make any sound other than wet, broken gagging noises. Her eyes are glassy, tears streaming down her face as she gets ruined in her own bed, reduced once again to nothing but their shared, bound fucktoy.

One of the three boys kneeling in front of her suddenly suggests a new idea.

“We should try to fit all three of our cocks in her mouth.”

IU, with one thick cock already buried deep in her throat, doesn’t even have time to react or complain. The second boy immediately pushes forward, forcing his cock past her stretched lips alongside the first one. Her jaw aches as her mouth is stretched wide around two cocks. Then, while one of the boys behind her delivers a series of hard spanks to her ass - turning her cheeks bright red - the third boy, the one with the biggest cock, steps up and tries to push his fat head past her already overstuffed lips.

IU’s eyes widen in shock and discomfort as he forces his way in. Her jaw stretches to its absolute limit, her lips pulled painfully tight around all three cocks. She gags violently, choking and sputtering as the three boys try to stuff her mouth completely full. Drool pours messily down her chin and onto the sheets as they start moving. They begin taking turns, each thrusting roughly into her overstuffed throat once before pulling back to let the next one have a go. It’s a cruel, rotating rhythm that keeps her mouth constantly stretched to its absolute limit. IU feels like they’re going to break her jaw or rip her throat apart. Her mouth is painfully full, her lips stretched thin and numb around three cocks. Occasionally, her teeth scrape uncomfortably against their shafts, earning her a few sharp hisses and harder thrusts in retaliation.

One of the boys laughs as a nasty thought enters his head.

“We could probably fit a fourth cock in there… but first we’d have to pull out all her teeth.”

The other boys burst into laughter at the crude joke. IU’s face burns with deep humiliation as they casually talk about her like that while destroying her holes.

At that moment, the boy with the biggest cock pushes forward, forcing his thick shaft deep into her throat and completely blocking her airway. IU’s eyes widen in panic as she struggles for air, her bound body jerking weakly. Her vision starts to blur at the edges. One of the boys double-stuffing her ass chuckles, watching her twitch.

“If we’re already talking about upgrading her body, we might as well get her bigger tits too.”

“Yeah. Her tits are way too small for proper titjobs right now. We need more places on her body we can use.”

The casual, degrading way they talk about modifying her body while using every one of her holes sends a fresh wave of burning shame through IU. Her entire face and chest flush red with humiliation, even as tears stream down her cheeks and drool pours from her overstretched mouth.

She feels small, pathetic, and completely objectified - exactly how they like her. And despite the shame, her pussy clenches hard around the two cocks inside it. She tries desperately to speak around the three cocks. Muffled, wet, incoherent sounds are all that escape, garbled and pathetic. She doesn’t even know what she wants to say. Part of her knows she should complain, should tell them to stop talking about her like that, to stop treating her this way in her own home.

But a darker, more disgusting part of her mind whispers something very different.

“Do it… become their toy completely.”

The thought makes her pussy cramp. She imagines it. Getting her tits enlarged for them, letting them turn her into the perfect set of holes. No more pretending to be the elegant, respected idol. Just a worthless, brainless fucktoy whose only purpose is to take young cock in every way possible.

That shameful fantasy makes her moan weakly around the three shafts destroying her throat. Her eyes water even more as the humiliation burns through her, mixing with raw, desperate arousal. The boys laugh at her pathetic attempts to speak, clearly enjoying how broken and overwhelmed she sounds. One of them pats her head condescendingly while another thrusts deeper into her throat.

“Yeah… keep making those noises. That’s all a set of holes like you needs to do.”

IU’s mind spins as they continue using her without mercy. The degrading fantasy they planted in her head refuses to leave, making her wetter and more submissive with every harsh thrust. She feels herself sinking deeper into that depraved headspace, dangerously close to wanting everything they were joking about.

Later that night, IU kneels exhausted on the floor of her living room again. Her body is covered in a thin layer of sweat, her hair messy and sticking to her skin. Thick evidence of earlier rounds leaks from her used pussy and ass, dripping onto the floor beneath her. She looks thoroughly wrecked, eyes glassy, cheeks flushed.

The seven boys stand in a tight circle around her, all of them slowly stroking their hard cocks. The one directly in front of her holds up his phone, camera aimed straight at her face.

He hits record.

Without needing to be told, IU leans forward and starts serving them. She turns her head left and right, taking one cock into her mouth for a few sloppy, eager bobs before pulling off and moving to the next. Her hands reach out to stroke two more at the same time, pumping them steadily while she rotates between all seven. She moves as quickly as her tired body allows, sucking, licking, and stroking with desperate enthusiasm, making sure no cock is neglected for long. Drool runs down her chin and onto her small tits as she works, her head turning constantly from one throbbing shaft to another. The boys groan and murmur encouragement. The one in front keeps his camera steady on her messy, eager face.

“Good girl.”

One of them praises her.

“Show the camera how much you love serving us.”

IU moans around whichever cock is currently in her mouth, her exhausted body still pushing itself to please them completely for this last time. She doesn’t want this to end, but is also afraid that, if she doesn’t end it tonight, it’ll never end. And IU isn’t sure if her body would survive that.

She continues working frantically, her head turning from cock to cock as she sucks, licks, and strokes all seven of them. The boys groan and stroke themselves faster when her mouth or hands aren’t on them, clearly getting closer to their respective orgasms.

The first boy to cum is the one directly in front of her. He grabs her hair and pushes deep into her mouth, groaning as he unloads. Thick ropes of cum shoot straight down her throat. IU tries her best to swallow, but there’s too much. Some of it spills from the corners of her lips as she coughs and gasps. Before she can fully recover, the next boy steps forward and aims his cock at her face. He strokes himself quickly and erupts, painting her forehead, nose, and left cheek with warm, sticky cum. IU instinctively opens her mouth wider, trying to catch some of it on her tongue.

One by one, they start finishing. The third boy grabs her head and fucks her mouth for a few final thrusts before cuming deep inside. She gags hard, cum bubbling from her nostrils as she struggles to swallow. The fourth boy chooses her tits, covering her small chest in several heavy spurts. The fifth aims for her face again, adding to the growing mess across her cheeks and lips.

By now IU’s face is a complete wreck, glazed with multiple loads, her eyelashes clumped together, cum dripping from her chin onto her breasts. She keeps moving, sucking and stroking the remaining boys with everything she has left.

The sixth boy groans and unloads directly into her open mouth. She tries to swallow but ends up choking, more cum spilling down her chin and onto her thighs. The last boy, the one who had been patient, steps up and strokes himself furiously. He aims for her face and adds the final, thick load across her already ruined features, covering her from forehead to chin.

IU kneels there panting, completely covered in their cum. It drips from her face, runs down her neck and chest, and leaks from her used holes. Her eyes are half-lidded, her breathing ragged as she looks up at the seven boys circling her.

They stand there for a moment, admiring their work, their beautiful, respected sunbae reduced to a cum-drenched, exhausted mess on her own apartment floor.

One of them reaches down and gently pats her cum-covered head.

“Same time tomorrow?”

Jihyo Series and oneshots..

Roommates with benefits

I like Sex.. I like massages, so..? Ft, Momo of TWICE

Gym Freak

Gym to the pool Ft, Sana of TWICE and Somi

Itzy smuts..

Almost caught them..

It started with nothing. Or everything. That's the thing about a line you aren't supposed to cross — you never see the moment you step over it. You just look back one day and realize you've been on the other side for months, maybe longer, and the distance between where you stand and where you're supposed to be is already too far to measure.

Wonyoung was twenty-one that summer. I was nineteen, home from my first year of college, and she'd moved back in after graduation, saving for some graphic design certificate she talked about but never seemed in a hurry to start. We'd shared a house our whole lives, but something had shifted while I was gone. Or maybe it had always been there, and distance just gave me eyes to see it.

She wore these thin tank tops around the house now. She'd always been pretty — everyone said so, the kind of pretty that made waiters forget your order and boys in high school write her names on desk tops. But I'd grown up with that face, immune to it the way you're immune to the smell of your own skin. Until I wasn't.

The first time I noticed — really noticed — she was reaching for a mug in the high cabinet, her shirt riding up, a strip of smooth lower back showing above her pajama shorts. I watched the dip of her spine disappear into the waistband and something in my chest went tight, then hot. I looked away fast, but the image stayed burned behind my eyelids.

She caught me staring a few days later. Different moment, same heat in my blood. I was at the kitchen table, and she was bent over the counter, scrolling through her phone. The neck of her shirt hung open, and I could see the curve of her breast, the pink edge of her nipple. My throat went dry.

She straightened, turned, and found my eyes locked on her chest. Her face flickered — surprise first, then something I couldn't read. She didn't say anything. Didn't pull the shirt up. Just held my gaze for a beat too long before walking past me, close enough that her hip brushed my shoulder.

That night I lay in bed, my cock hard and aching, my hand moving over it as I imagined walking into her room, imagined her looking up at me with those dark eyes, imagined not stopping.

I came with her name caught in my throat, bitten off before it could escape.

It became a rhythm after that. The looking, the catching, the pretending we hadn't. She started wearing shorter shorts. I started finding reasons to be in the kitchen when she was. We orbited each other like two magnets slowly being pushed together, the space between us humming with something we both refused to name.

Mom noticed nothing. Dad noticed less. They saw what they'd always seen — a brother and a sister, bickering over the remote, sharing takeout on the couch, normal. And we were normal, mostly. We still laughed at the same stupid videos. Still fought over who left dishes in the sink. But there were these pockets of silence now, charged and fragile, where the air went thick and neither of us moved.

The first time we touched — really touched, with intent — it was an accident. Or it looked like one.

I was coming up the stairs with a basket of laundry, and she was coming down. We met on the landing, and she stepped aside, but the space was narrow, and her body brushed mine as she passed. Her hip against my thigh. Her hand on my arm for balance. Her hair across my cheek.

I stopped breathing.

She paused, half a step below me, her face tilted up. Her lips were parted. Her eyes moved from my eyes to my mouth, and for three heartbeats, neither of us moved.

Then she smiled — small, crooked, nervous — and continued down the stairs.

I stood there with the laundry basket until I heard her bedroom door close.

That night, I heard my shower running, and I knew it was hers. She always used mine because hers had worse pressure. The sound of the water through the wall was familiar, but now it painted pictures. Water running over her shoulders. Down her stomach. Between her thighs.

I pressed my palm flat against the wall, feeling the vibration of the pipes.

The next day, our parents announced they'd be gone for the weekend. Dad's company retreat in the mountains. Mom going with him because "she deserved a break." They left Friday afternoon with a list of instructions and a reminder to feed the cat.

The front door clicked shut, and the house went silent.

I was in the living room, pretending to watch something on my laptop. She was in the kitchen, making tea. The kettle whistled. Cups clinked. I heard her footsteps pause at the doorway.

She stood there, mug in both hands, steam curling around her face. She was wearing one of those thin tank tops, gray this time, and cotton shorts. No bra. The outline of her nipples showed through the fabric, dark and hard against the soft material.

"You want something?" she asked.

The question had two layers. I heard both.

"Yeah," I said, my voice rougher than I expected. "I want…"

I couldn't finish the sentence. Couldn't speak the thing that had been growing in my chest for weeks, months, maybe years.

She walked toward me, slow, deliberate. Set the mug on the coffee table. Sat down on the couch next to me, close enough that her thigh pressed against mine.

"Say it," she said quietly.

The word came out before I could stop it. "You."

She didn't flinch. Didn't pull away. Her hand moved to my knee, fingers light, testing.

"Me what?"

I turned toward her, my heart slamming against my ribs. "Everything. All of it. I can't stop thinking about you. I wake up and the first thing I see is your face. I go to sleep and I dream about—" I stopped, my throat seizing.

Her hand pressed harder into my knee. "Dream about what?"

"Your mouth," I said. "Your skin. The way you look at me when you think I don't notice."

She was quiet for a long moment. Then she shifted, swinging one leg over mine, straddling me on the couch. Her weight settled in my lap, her thighs on either side of my hips. She was so close I could smell her shampoo, something floral and sweet.

"I notice," she said. "I notice everything."

Her mouth found mine.

It was soft at first. Tentative. The kiss of two people who knew they were stepping off a cliff and wanted to feel the air rush past before they hit the ground. Her lips were warm and tasted like the honey she'd put in her tea. Her tongue touched mine, and I groaned, my hands finding her waist, pulling her closer.

She broke the kiss, breathless, her forehead against mine.

"If we do this," she whispered, "we can't take it back."

"I know."

"Are you sure?"

I answered by kissing her again, harder this time, my hands sliding up her back, under the thin strap of her tank top. She gasped into my mouth, and I felt her hips shift against mine, felt the heat of her through the layers of cotton between us.

Her fingers worked at the hem of my shirt, pulling it up. I broke the kiss long enough to let her pull it over my head, and then her hands were on my chest, tracing the lines of my shoulders, my collarbone, her touch electric.

"I've wanted to touch you for so long," she said, almost to herself.

"How long?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she pulled her own tank top over her head, and I stopped thinking entirely.

Her breasts were medium, the kind that fit perfectly in a palm, with pink nipples that were already hard and dark from the cool air. Her skin was smooth and pale in the afternoon light filtering through the curtains. She was beautiful in a way that stole my breath, that made the world narrow to the space between her collarbone and her navel.

"Touch me," she said.

I didn't need to be told twice.

My hands came up to her breasts, palms cupping the soft weight of them. She closed her eyes, her head falling back, a soft moan escaping her throat. I ran my thumbs over her nipples, felt them tighten further under my touch.

"Like that," she breathed. "Just like that."

I leaned forward and took one nipple in my mouth.

She gasped, her fingers threading into my hair, holding me there. I licked and sucked and teased, rolling the hard peak between my lips, feeling her hips grind against the growing bulge in my jeans. I switched to the other side, giving it the same attention, her moans growing louder, more desperate.

"Fuck," she whispered. "I've been wanting this. Wanting you. Every night in my bed, thinking about your hands on me."

I pulled back, looking up at her. Her eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, lips swollen from my kisses.

"Tell me what you thought about," I said.

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn't look away. "You touching me. You inside me. You doing all the things I wasn't supposed to want my brother to do."

The word hung between us — brother — a reminder of the line we'd already crossed. But neither of us stepped back.

I slid my hands down her sides, over the curve of her hips, under the waistband of her shorts. Her skin was hot, her stomach trembling under my fingers.

"I want to taste you," I said.

Her breath caught. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

She climbed off my lap, and I followed her lead. She pulled off her shorts and underwear in one motion, standing naked in front of the couch, the afternoon light painting her in gold and shadow. I knelt on the floor, my hands on her thighs, guiding her back to sit on the edge of the cushion.

She leaned back on her hands, legs falling open.

I took a moment to look at her. All of her. The dark hair between her thighs, already glistening. The way her chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths. The way she watched me, nervous and hungry all at once.

"Stop staring," she said, but her voice was soft, not a real complaint.

"Can't help it. You're beautiful."

She bit her lip, and I lowered my mouth to her.

The first taste was electric. She was warm and wet against my tongue, her scent filling my senses, her taste something I'd never forget. I licked slowly at first, learning her, the way she gasped when I found her clit, the way her thighs tensed when I pressed harder. I circled the sensitive nub with my tongue, then sucked gently, and her whole body arched.

"Yes," she breathed. "Right there. Don't stop."

I didn't. I licked her pussy like I'd been starving for it, my tongue sliding through her folds, dipping inside her, tasting her arousal. Her hand found my hair, gripping tight, guiding me where she needed me most. Her moans filled the living room, punctuated by my name, by gasps and whimpers and half-formed words.

"I'm close," she said, her voice strained. "I'm so close, don't stop, please—"

I doubled down, licking harder, faster, my fingers joining my tongue, sliding into her wet heat. She cried out, her body trembling, her thighs clamping around my head as she came, her release flooding my mouth.

I kept licking through it, drawing out every last shudder, until she pushed my head away, oversensitive and laughing breathlessly.

"Jesus," she said, slumping back against the couch. "Where did you learn to do that?"

I crawled up her body, kissing my way up her stomach, between her breasts, up her throat. "Imagination," I said. "And a lot of alone time."

She laughed again, then kissed me, tasting herself on my lips.

"My turn," she said.

She pushed me onto my back, and I went willingly. She worked at the button of my jeans, pulling them down along with my boxers. My cock sprang free, hard and leaking, and she looked at it with an expression I couldn't quite read.

"Bigger than I thought," she said.

"Is that good or bad?"

She wrapped her hand around the base, and I hissed at the contact. "Good," she said. "Definitely good."

She lowered her head, and I watched as she took me into her mouth. The heat of it, the wetness, the way her tongue moved along the shaft — I had to close my eyes, had to focus on breathing, or I'd lose it right there.

She bobbed her head, taking me deeper, her hand working what her mouth couldn't reach. She looked up at me, her eyes meeting mine, and the sight of her like that — on her knees, her lips stretched around my cock — nearly undid me.

"I'm gonna cum," I warned.

She pulled off just enough to say, "Inside me. I want it inside me."

She crawled up my body, straddling me again. She positioned herself, the head of my cock pressing against her entrance, both of us holding our breath.

"Ready?" she asked.

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

She sank down.

The feeling of her — tight, wet, scorching hot — made my vision blur. She took me inch by inch until I was buried inside her, and we both stayed there, frozen, connected in a way we could never undo.

"Oh my god," she whispered.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded, her eyes squeezed shut. "Don't move. Just give me a second."

I gave her ten. Twenty. However long she needed. I traced my hands up her thighs, across her hips, over her stomach, trying to memorize every inch of her.

Then she began to move.

Slow at first, a gentle rocking that sent waves of pleasure through both of us. Her inner walls gripped me with every motion, and I could feel her getting wetter, the slide becoming easier, more natural.

"Harder," she said.

I gripped her hips and began to thrust up into her, meeting her movements, driving deeper. Her head fell back, her mouth open, her moans filling the room. The sound of our bodies slapping together, the wet sounds of her arousal, the ragged rhythm of our breathing — it drowned out everything else.

"I'm gonna cum again," she said, her voice breaking.

"Come on," I urged, thrusting harder. "Come on my cock. Let me feel it."

Her body tensed, her back arching, and she cried out as she came, her pussy clenching around me, milking me, pulling me over the edge with her. I came inside her, hot and deep, my own groan lost against her shoulder as I buried my face in her neck.

We stayed like that, tangled together, breathing hard, the reality of what we'd done settling around us like a second skin.

She kissed my forehead.

"We should probably talk about this," she said.

"Probably."

But neither of us moved. Not yet.

---

We didn't talk about it. Not really.

We fell into a rhythm instead. Those five days our parents were gone, we barely left each other's orbit. We cooked together, ate together, watched movies with her curled against my chest. And at night — every night — we found each other.

The second time was gentler. She came to my room after midnight, slipping into my bed without a word, her body fitting against mine like she'd always belonged there. We took it slow, her on her back, me above her, watching her face as I pushed inside her. I kissed her through it, swallowed her soft sounds, held her when she came.

The third time was hungry. Afternoon, the kitchen counter, her bent over and gripping the edge while I took her from behind. Her breasts swinging, her moans echoing off the tiles. I came inside her again, my hand pressed over her mouth to muffle her cry, though the house was empty.

The fourth time, she rode me in the shower, water streaming over both of us, our bodies slick and slipping, the steam thick around us. She laughed when I almost dropped her, then pulled my mouth to hers and didn't stop kissing me until we both came.

By the time our parents came back Sunday night, we'd developed a language of glances and touches that no one else could read. She passed me the salt at dinner and her fingers lingered against mine. I asked her to pass the remote and our eyes held a second too long. Mom and Dad saw nothing. They were busy being back, busy unpacking, busy being parents.

But that night, when the house was dark and quiet, my phone buzzed.

A text from her. Three words.

My room. Now.

I went.

---

Three weeks later, Dad announced the road trip.

"We need a real vacation," he said at dinner, spreading a map across the table. "Six days. National parks, camping, some time away from everything."

Mom was thrilled. She loved planning trips, loved the logistics of packing and booking and mapping routes. She set to work immediately, and within days, our lives were being organized into suitcases and coolers and itineraries.

Wonyoung and I exchanged a look across the table. Six days. A cramped car. Shared hotel rooms. No privacy.

But also — six days. A road trip. Long stretches of highway. Opportunities.

The first two days were fine. Torture, but fine. We drove through changing landscapes, stopped at roadside attractions, ate gas station snacks and argued over the aux cord. Mom and Dad in the front. Me and Wonyoung in the back. Her thigh pressed against mine under the shared blanket. Her hand finding mine when our parents weren't looking.

On day three, we reached the big national park. Dad had booked two rooms — one for them, one for us. "You're adults," he said with a shrug. "We trust you."

Wonyoung's hand found my knee under the check-in counter.

The first night in the hotel was desperate. We barely made it through the door before her mouth was on mine, her hands pulling at my clothes, mine at hers. We fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, and I was inside her within minutes, both of us trying to be quiet, failing miserably.

We went again in the morning, slow and lazy, the sunlight streaming through the curtains, her hair spread across the pillow, her legs wrapped around my waist.

Day four was the scenic drive. A route that wound through mountains and valleys, with lookout points every few miles. Mom and Dad wanted to stop at every single one.

By mid-afternoon, we were all tired, hot, and ready for the hotel. But there was one more stop Dad wanted to make — a viewpoint at the end of a short hiking trail.

"Come on," he said. "Last one. Then we're done."

We parked in a nearly empty lot. The trail was short but steep, and Mom and Dad took it slow, stopping to take pictures of wildflowers and rock formations. Wonyoung and I walked behind them, close enough to seem normal, far enough that our whispers went unheard.

"I need you," she said, so quiet I almost missed it.

"Tonight," I said.

"Can't wait that long."

I looked at her. She looked back, her eyes dark with want.

"There's a bathroom at the trailhead," I said.

"That's not what I meant."

She glanced toward our parents, who were fifty feet ahead, crouched over some plant Mom had spotted.

"The car," she said. "Backseat. Give me ten minutes."

My heart hammered. "They'll notice."

"They won't. We'll say we forgot water. Or had to pee. I don't know. Think of something."

She was already slowing, letting the distance grow between us and our parents. I followed her lead, pretending to tie my shoe.

"Go back," she said. "I'll meet you in five."

I nodded, stood, and called out to my parents. "Forgot my water bottle! Be right back!"

Dad waved without turning around.

I walked back down the trail, heart pounding, my steps quick and light. The parking lot was empty except for our SUV. I climbed into the backseat, my hands shaking, and waited.

Four minutes later, the driver's side door opened. Wonyoung climbed in, then slipped between the seats into the back with me.

"Lock the doors," she said.

I did.

She was wearing a sundress, thin and flowery, perfect for the summer heat. She hiked it up as she climbed into my lap, her knees on either side of my hips, her back against the door.

"Quick," she said. "Before anyone comes back."

"There's no one here."

"There could be."

I didn't argue. I pulled down my shorts just enough to free my cock, and she shifted, finding the right angle, sinking onto me with a shared breath of relief.

"Fuck," she whispered, her forehead against mine. "I needed this."

Her hips moved, a slow grinding that built heat in both of us. The car windows were tinted, but it still felt exposed, dangerous. Anyone could drive up. Anyone could see the SUV rocking, see the shapes through the glass.

The danger made it better.

She rode me in the backseat, her mouth on mine to stifle her moans, her hands braced against the headrest. The windows fogged. The leather creaked. I reached up and pulled the straps of her sundress down, freeing her breasts, taking one in my mouth while she kept moving.

"I'm close," she breathed. "Cum with me. Inside me."

I thrust up into her, meeting her rhythm, both of us chasing the edge. Her body tensed, her nails digging into my shoulders, and I felt her climax ripple around me, pulling me into my own. I came deep inside her, holding her hips against mine, not wanting to waste a single drop.

She collapsed against me, her breath warm on my neck.

"That was insane," she said.

"The craziest part is we have to go back out there and act normal."

She laughed quietly. "I love it."

I kissed her temple. "Me too."

We untangled ourselves, fixed our clothes, rolled down the windows to air out the car. She checked her reflection in her phone, fixed her hair, and opened the door.

"Coming?" she asked, her smile wicked.

I followed her back up the trail, feeling the ghost of her still warm inside me, knowing I'd carry this secret with me for the rest of my life.

And I wouldn't trade it for anything.

---

That was three months ago.

I'm back at school now, and she's still at home, working on that certificate, saving her money. We text every day. Call most nights. She tells me she misses me, and I tell her the same, and neither of us has said the word that would end this.

We both know what we're doing. We both know there's no future here, not the kind people talk about. No wedding. No kids. No growing old together.

But we have now. And for now, that's enough.

I'm coming home for winter break in two weeks.

She doesn't know I booked my flight a day early. I haven't told her I'll be at the door when our parents are at work, haven't told her what I plan to do the moment I see her.

I think she'll be happy to find out.

“Is this life supposed to be?” Is it just you? Or is it the same to other people? Are you the only leaf in a tree of unfortunate? If so, you have already proven it.

The rain goes wild, harder than you thought it could be. Droplets caused enormous splashes, enough to fog the road ahead of you. As you walk, the pathway slowly turns into an endless mist.

“Huh?” It might be less visible, but you can clearly see a kid running into the middle of the road.

“That kid—” Just as you thought it was dangerous, a truck with a speed comparable to a train was running one hundred meters away.

“Driving that fast in this weather! Kid!” You rushed in, running to the kid— there’s no kid?

The child should've been right in front of you.

Instead...

It’s an empty road.

“W-what!? Oh, hell no—” There’s no kid in sight, might be an illusion, a bad one. It’s too late to realize that now; you were already in the middle of the road with a raging truck bearing down on you.

Honkkkk!

What’s the use of the brake and horn if you act like the road’s your race track?

“Fuck– CRASH!” Your last word, maybe. The truck hits you with a massive force. Your body floats in the air like a football, bouncing off the road after a wild strike and ends up slamming into the metal rail barrier, goal.

“K-k-kggg–” You tried to speak, but you can’t, your neck’s broken, and your lungs are battered. That “Fuck” might really be your last word, confirmed.

“It’s really the end.” You stared at the truck driver who got out of his mobile but instantly hopped in and drove away.

“Fucker can’t even take responsibility… fuck, I can’t move…” You helplessly staring in the damp road, your head is at the same level where the raindrops land.

“W-wait… I watched this before… truck… reincarnation.” You forced a smile, remembering that one film you watched on a pirated streaming site.

“I’ll be reborn—”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“Hurry! Put it in!”

“S-sir!”

“AHHH!”

“Oh… don’t tell me…” You regained consciousness, your body’s numb, but their words… they might be doing something horny.

“Did I get reincarnated?” You’re finally going to have a fine, good life.

“Sir! Oh—” Your body’s numb, but your vision’s not. You can see a shift of weight from the right to the other side.

THUD!

You planted on the ground, face first.

“Hey! How come you dropped him!? Put him in the ambulance before it’s too late!” The man in a white coat ordered the guys in blue.

“Am I still alive? OH HELL NO!” You wanted to cry, but you can’t.

The hospital smells… nothing. Your senses are taken out of you bit by bit. Their voices are slowly fading away, your vision turning into a solid color.

“Does dying always feel like this?” A question lingers with you instead of hoping to live.

“Sir—” The very tiny senses you had left felt like you’re shifting again.

THUD!

“H-how come you dropped him again— oh! His head! Aish—”

Your body’s numb, but hitting your head on the ground still feels painful.

“This incompetent doctor…”

Your luck of being unlucky still surprisingly exists.

But finally, the last consciousness you had vanished.

*****

“Oh? It’s cold…” The first thing you felt. “I must be reincarnated in Europe… Swiss? Netherlands? Alaska? Or still Korea but luckier?” There are so many options, but all you care about is having a good life.

“Hmm… where am I?” You looked at your surroundings, the environment you were in, hopeful about which world you got reborn.

It’s a wide space in front of you, and the position you were in is kind of weird, as if you were placed on a shelf. There are four ladies around, the place is flushed with pink, a lot of stuff everywhere, and the ambiance is expensive.

“Am I rich? FUCKING YES!” The joy’s enough to make you hop… but you can’t.

“Huh? I—I can’t move.” You put a lot of pressure on your body, but there’s no movement. “Am I paralyzed or something? AM I STILL UNLUCKY IN THIS WORLD!?” You added upon realization that this new life might be worse than your past life.

You scanned the place you were in, repeating the process. The ladies, the pink place, the stuff— right the stuff.

“UHHH— WHAT THE FUCK IN THE—” Your face turned into horror or whatever if you really had a face right at that moment.

On your sides, a black dildo with visible veins protruding its shaft. On the farther shelves, there’s another type of toy that’s for women's entertainment purposes. The pink theme exudes feminism, and the ladies are there to sell…

“No… no fucking way…”

There’s no doubt about it.

You got reincarnated as a sex toy.

“...”

“FUCK! IT’S WAY WORSE THAN A HUMAN CAN BE—” There are a lot of questions in your mind that need an answer. How can you eat? Or do you even need to eat? How can you die again? So you can reincarnate into a better life.

And the most important thing of all, how could you live your life as a sex toy?

“Hello, welcome!” The ladies welcomed a customer.

“Huh?” It caught your attention as well. The ladies are more polite than the ones in the restaurant. Is selling sex toys better than food?

“Thank you.” The customer who had just entered greeted them back.

The woman who just entered is tall, around 170cm or something. She’s slender but fit, she’s coated in multiple layers of luxurious brands, but her aura is still leaking. She’s hell of gorgeous, but somehow, you can sense danger as she instantly locks her eyes with you.

“Is that the new model?” The woman just pointed at you.

“This woman is freaky! STRAIGHT UP FOR A DILDO!” You can’t run, you can’t hide, and you can’t escape her.

“Yes, madam. The model UL-67,” One of the sales ladies told her. They move right in front of you together with the customer.

“UL?” You and the woman had the same question: What does the UL mean?

“UL? Don’t tell me it’s unlucky.” You scoffed, of course it does, your model name must match your life.

“Unlucky, it was made in the Philippines. Unlucky is a homonym of the word Anlaki, which means big.” The explanation made you speechless.

“Oh… I see. Well, it’s a fact that it’s big.” The customer nods as if she understands very clearly. “I’ll take that one.” She points at you once again, if you could only avoid it.

“Then, we’ll pack it for you. It’s the only stock, so you can have it right away.” The staff took you, touching you delicately.

“Is it something special?” The woman poked your tip with her surprisingly delicate, slender finger.

“Yes, and you're lucky.” The sales lady flashed a satisfied smile, “By the way, what’s the name we’ll put in the receipt, madam?” she added.

“You said I’m lucky, well I am. Put Lucky Vicky.” This lucky Vicky is freaky Vicky.

“Thank you, please wait a moment. You can sit as you wait.” The sales lady brought you to the back of the store.

“Hey! You lady! Don’t give me to that freaky Vicky girl—” You surely knew that she can’t hear you.

Your words got shut down when the sales lady put you in a box like a corpse in a coffin. But that’s a fact, you’ve been dead and just reincarnated as their entertainment. “W-wait… if I’m a dildo and she now owns me… does that mean…” This is the first time in a while you've brainstormed, except on your thesis.

“Does that mean… I’ll go to her— NO WAY!!” Right, she’ll use you just like what girls do with a dildo.

Soon, you’ll come in and out of her pussy like a saw on a board.

*****

The box opened, and finally, you got a glimpse of light after being drowned in darkness for an hour. Six girls are looking at you with mixed curiosity and excitement. One almost grew a heart in her eyes while staring at you. Freaky girls.

“You bought this?”

“Unlucky… 67… what an ugly name.”

“Cute!” 

“Have you tried it?”

“Leeseo, no one can try a sex toy in a shop, and besides… it looked big, but Wonyoung definitely knows her capacity, she’ll handle it.”

“Actually, I don’t know if I can, but I will try.” She pulled you out.

“That voice… she’s the one who bought me…” You stared at her. No mask, no shades, no cap, and no multiple layers of cloth for concealment.

She’s actually stunning, her eyes, cheeks, lips, nose, and skin… but something’s off.

“...”

“WAIT A MINUTE— Wonyoung… Leeseo…” You recount the names you heard, then take a good look at their face. The tall ones, Yujin and Wonyoung. The cute ones, Leeseo and Rei. The soft ones, Gaeul and Liz.

“W-w-what in the world!?” You shook your head even though you don’t have any other head except your dick head.

“Wonyoung-unnie, before I forgot, the manager said you had a photoshoot tomorrow for MIUMIU.” Leeseo reminds Wonyoung.

“Yes, I got his message as well, thank you!” Wonyoung happily responds, then strokes your body as if you're jewelry, shining and expensive.

“IT’S REALLY THEM! IVE!” You exclaimed. The freaky, lucky Vicky who bought you is Jang Wonyoung, and the girls around you are her members. Their angelic faces and innocent actions on screen that you often see is just a mere facade of their horny existence.

“Why does it look like a mushroom? Are there any dildos like tanghulu?” Rei put three shiny muscat together, mimicking a tanghulu before putting it in her mouth in one shot. “Kgh– hmm…” She choked, then moaned right away.

“Why tanghulu? Not a katana dildo since you're Japanese?” Liz took an apple slice, slid the edge of it through her tongue in a very lustful manner, then took a bite of it. “Sweet.” She licked her finger afterwards.

“Why a sword?” Rei’s as confused as you are, by the way. Wonoyung kept stroking you, and it turned you on while listening to their crazy conversation.

“Imagine how samurai draw their sword, the way they sheath and pull it is similar to a dildo coming in and out of our pussy.” Liz reenacted everything she was telling, touching her clothed pussy and gesturing, stabbing it with a sword.

“Why do I feel like watching them makes me very sinful?” You want to close your eyes, but you don’t have an eye to begin with.

“So our pussy is the scabbard? What are you? Raiden Shogun? Pulling a sword out of your body.” Rei’s laughing at her, but it seems like she’s the only one who knew what she meant by it. Her laugh stopped the moment she realized it.

“Raiding Shotgun? There’s a dildo like a shotgun raiding our pussy?” Leeseo’s the most confused among them.

“You know, what? You girls are freaky, and Leeseo’s brain must have some kind of theme park inside it.” Yujin holds her head and swings it side to side. Leeseo swings accordingly.

“So, how much is it?” Gaeul pointed at you while Wonyoung endlessly stroked.

“₩ 5,050,000.” Wonyoung replied.

“WHAT!? I WORTH ₩ 5,050,000? Damn, I never thought I'd be valuable as hell.”

“₩ 5,050,000? That’s…” Gaeul stopped, her face difficult to read as she flatly stared at you. However, you can see the hunger behind those round eyes, Gaeul’s as freaky as theirs.

“I know, I’m so expensive as if I’m made of gold.” You’re too expensive for a dildo.

“That’s cheap considering he’s made of gold and high-quality elastic PU,” Liz spoke, reading the manual that wrapped you earlier like a blanket.

“Oh hell nah!” What you said just came true! You’re actually made of gold.

“But they kinda did too much. It’s like Gucci, for our pussy.” Yujin suddenly raps out of nowhere.

“Wow, it’s nice! You should be a songwriter.” Rei clapped her hand but ended up clapping while moaning, acting like she was getting fucked.

“What the hell…”

“Really? Will DIVEs love it? How about a song about how forcefully I put that dildo inside my pussy?” Yujin clapped as well; their last remaining brain cell is identical twins.

“Call it, Force! Force by Yujin!” Leeseo joined in, and the three of them happily slapped one another.

“God, help me… can I die again? For real.”

“DIVEs will love it, they love everything we do.” Wonyoung kissed your tip; surprisingly, you can feel how soft her lips are. “Oh? It left a mark.” Her lips stuck for a second and left a kiss mark on your head.

“This girl… she’s pretty— pretty scary.”

“Anyway, Wonyoung, share it with us. The box says 1/1. That's a limited edition.” Gaeul negotiated, but it looks like Wonyoung wanted to colonize you.

“Nope, Unnie, have some shame. It’s not hygienic!” Wonyoung refused, hugging you dearly and pouting like a kid.

“Talking about hygiene? You ate the cucumber that I’ve used to fuck myself! I was wondering why it’s gone the next morning, then I saw you chewing it while watching my melody.” Gaeul finally put some emotion into her words.

“That’s… because I’m hungry! And that’s what’s food for!” Wonyoung rolled her eyes. She’s guilty, smacking her lips as if she’s remembering the taste.

“Well, we’re hungry as well!” Gaeul’s now using the same logic Wonyoung’s using against her.

“But this is not food!” Wonyoung showcased you like a baseball bat and wiggled in front of them. Leeseo and Rei swing their heads in rhythm, cute and freaky.

“It is! Our pussy lips will take a bite on it.” Gaeul’s words is so powerful that it silenced everyone, including you.

“...”

“I knew it! She’s the weirdest of them all— STOP SHAKING ME!” Now, Wonyoung’s shaking you like a fucking light stick.

“No!” Wonyoung stood up, reaffirmed her stance on not sharing you with them, and walked away. She went into her room, slamming the door.

“Sighed. Acting childish for just a toy.” Liz said, and then the girls moved as well.

“What the fuck did I just witness? IVE fighting for a dildo? Seriously?”

Inside her room, she’s pouting and stomping her feet. She puts you down on her bed.

“I’ll be playing with you later…” She traced your shaft and gave your tip a delightful poke.

“Do I have a choice? But it’s much better to have a rest— WOAH!”

As you thought you’ll have a rest, Wonyoung’s finger was hovering over her blouse. Undoing her buttons piece by piece. The blouse slides down on one part, exposing her smooth shoulder that has been a poison to all of her fans.

“SHIT! THIS FEELS ILLEGAL! I SHOULD CLOSE MY EYES— I DON’T HAVE EYES!” You’re desperate for a stoppage, even forgetting a thing you already realized earlier.

She finally let her blouse set free, crumpling it and tossing it onto the side where her other laundry rests. She’s wearing a delicate cotton bra, a fair size for her fair cup.

“I knew it, she just had it pushed all the way up on those photos— what the hell am I thinking!? AHHH!!”

Her hands slide through her chiseled torso all the way to the hem of her skirt. She found the single button it had, undoing it, then pulled the zipper down. She lets her skirt down, like a kid on a water slide, smoothly executed. Her panties matched her cotton bra, her legs were long, strong, and glowing, but her ass caught your attention like a dot in a white plain sight.

“She must be pushing her tits, but her ass is a real deal– no, much better than those photos… AHHH! I’M LOSING MY MIND!”

“Did I gain weight?” Wonyoung squished her butt cheeks, “I guess it’s fine if it was in the right places.” She joyfully cupped her breast.

She reached behind her, and her bra loosened. Carefree, she tossed it on where she put you and landed with a soft thud beside you. Her breast is incredibly perky, as if it’s poking to the wind; it was decorated by her pink cherries…

Now you know why her mini-plushie is called Cherry.

“Now, I crave for a vanilla sundae… no— this isn’t me! The dildo traits are taking over me!”

You’re still contemplating whether to focus on her or on the ceiling when a damp fabric landed all over you like a blanket.

“Hmm? Smells good— wait? Can I smell? WHAT THE FUCK!? And wait— IS THIS HER PANTIES!?”

She’s waxed, no patch, no stubble, just pure smoothness. Her deep pit is as deep as mariana trench, oceanic, wet as well. Is that a clam? No, that’s her lips. Is that a pearl? No, it’s her pearl. She’s worth millions, and you’re a dildo who saw her womanhood for free.

“Oh, God.”

“My panties are wet.” She looked down at the damp fabric clinging to you.

“SO YOU KNOW! AND YET YOU THREW IT AT ME!” If only she could hear you, but she can’t.

“Anyways, I’ll take a shower, then I’ll play with you after it.” Wonyoung picked her floral-scented bra and soaked panties. “I CAN’T WAIT!” She hops her way to her own bathroom. Her ass jiggled, and her fair tits bounced.

“She’s so horny.”

For thirty minutes, all you can hear is water running and her cute humming. She’s singing some of their songs, but still ends up imagining herself playing with you.

“Sumchago, love dive~ I’ll dive that dildo in my pussy~.”

“You make me feel like eleven~ Eleven times is not enough!”

“What's after 'Like'? Of course, fucking!”

“Oh God, what did I do to deserve this kind of torture!?” You are still staring at the ceiling as if you can do anything. Her cherry shampoo starts blessing your smelling senses as well, which unbelievably exists.

“Wait, is this torture? Some horny shits will want this kind of life if they knew this was possible. Death rate might rise at a questionable rate; all of them got hit by trucks.” Just thinking about it makes you contemplate whether you're lucky or just the luckiest unlucky.

The running water stopped.

“Oh shit, there she is.”

The bathroom door opened, and steamy fogs flowed out. Her steps are soft, she’s like a feather. She’s wrapping herself with a white towel as pure as her skin. Her hair, still dripping wet, dropped on her shoulder as the towel absorbed the droplets.

“She looks so good… I might get hard— I’m always hard, I’m a dildo, right… FUCK!”

“Just wait a minute, Dildy.” She poked your tip again; she loves poking you.

“Dildy? I have a name now!?” But it sounds like… “I don’t mind having a name, but could you please change it? It sounds diddy.” She should have named you better.

“Wait, it sounds disgusting.” She really stopped her movement and thought thoroughly, naming her dildo is so important for her. “How about…a lid? Like a pot cover, but it covered my hole instead… dil… lid… mirrored! Perfect!” She added, clapping with etiquette.

“How the fuck does their brain work?”

She brushed her hair, blowing the dryer in accurate spots. She puts moisturizers all over her body, a countless number. She smelled mixed fragrances, and it produced the most exotic and blood-boiling scent you ever smelled, the scent of sex.

“Now.” She stood up, stripped the towel around her with one decisive pull on the loose knot. She hopped right away onto the bed, causing you to bounce as well.

“GOD!”

“Oh God, I can’t wait!” She’s thrilled; her excitement can be felt when she grabs you with an incredible grip.

“KKGH– How t-t-the fuck– I’m choking! What sense do I have! It doesn’t make sense, KGHH—”

She is still gripping you with her right hand while her other hand plays with her pussy with accurate movements, her fingers work as if she’s reading a book, flipping her lips like pages.

“Hmm, I’ll give you enough water so you can slip in easily.” She’s now touching it with more fiction.

“I-I DON’T WANT TO SLIP IN THERE! She’s doing it! She’s really doing it— Oh shit— KGHGH– KGHGH–”

“Ahhngg, yes, that’s it. Your bulbous head is perfect… hmm…” Her tiny moans are something her fans would definitely die to hear, but there you are, she’s dipping your head into her pussy like a French fry into her tomato red flesh.

“Stop– huh? Stop—”

“God! Right spot!” Dipping your head into her pit isn’t enough. She maneuvers you, sliding on the length of her slit, and your head knocks over a bump, her clit.

“Ahhng! I’m gushing!” She kept doing the same pattern nonstop.

“HEY! IT’S ENOUGH– NO! NOOOO!! KGGH—” Be careful what you wish for.

“Oohhh… perfect… hmm…” She pushed your head into her hole with a sudden dip.

The transition from her bright entrance to pinkish dim flesh, into a complete slimy blackout. You never thought once in your life that you would have your head, your actual head, entering a woman’s vagina. Especially Wonyoung’s.

“Kgh– wait– stop—”

She kept dipping your head into her cunt. The slimy feeling all over your head, it’s sticky yet so slippery. The scent of her sex and the taste of her tanginess– “FUCK— I CAN TASTE IT!” Another sense has been awakened.

“Ahhng… It’s just the head and yet… I’m feeling dizzy, hmm…” Wonyoung’s words are broken by her rhythmic pants.

“I’m getting dizzy as well– KGHGH—”

She plunged you in, two inches in, three… and out. The tightness that you only felt in your dick before, you can now feel it in your whole body.

“STOPP—”

“AHHNNG!” She lets out a satisfied roar after she puts you in, all of you, until the very base of your new form.

“T-t-tight— help…”

The tightness is constricting you, the grip is something you can’t ever imagine. The flesh hugging you is slippery and warm. You can taste her insides, you can feel it, smell it, everything. You’re inside Jang Wonyoung, can you imagine?

“Kgg– pwah– hmppp! Kgh– pwah!”

In and out like an engine piston, that’s how Wonyoung used you. She’s moaning openly as if it’s a normal thing for them. She doesn’t care if her members can hear her outside the room; all she wants is her own pleasure.

“AHH! Yes! Perfect! AHHH OH GOD LID!” She called you by your name that you almost forgot existed.

“KGH– H-huh— I’m dizzy— I might throw up–”

The rhythmic masturbation came to a full stop. She left you nestled in her warm tunnel, no lights, no air, just pure flesh and gooeyness.

“W-what’s this button?” You felt her finger hovering over your base.

“I can’t— I’m throwing— UEGHHH!”

“OH, GOD! AHHH! Is it self-lubrication? What a feature!” Your puke is a feature, her own lubrication mixed with yours.

“WHAT THE HELL— UEGHHH!” You kept throwing up; you just can’t help puking.

“Huh? Another button? I wonder what this does?”

“HUH? ANOTHER ONE? STOP! DO-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-t” Your words shaking up when she pushed it.

“OH! THIS THING! LID YOU’RE THE BEST! A VIBRATOR FEATURE!” She exclaimed, her voice is higher than before, this is the happiest Wonyoung you’ve ever seen.

“N-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!”

“Yes!” She resumed thrusting you in and out of her pussy while your whole body trembled.

“N-o-o-o-o-o-o!”

“AHHH YESSS I’M CLOSE! LEVEL 2!” She pushed the button one more time, and your vibration intensified.

“N-OO-OO-OO-OO!”

“AHHH CUMMING!”

“NO-KGHHH—-”

Splashes for thick fluids filled the already compressed space inside her vagina. It’s now harder for you as the bubbly slimy texture hugs all over you. The vibrations stop, but her whole body twitches instead; her walls begin to spasm as well.

“Good thing… I take swimming lessons…”

“AHhhH… God… this is the best moment my pussy ever felt… Lid, thank you.” She finally pulled you out after a few more spasms and splashes.

Mwah!

“Eeewww”

Gaeul was right, she doesn’t care about hygiene. You just came out of her pussy, and yet she kissed you. Though eating a cucumber that came from Gaeul’s vagina is much worse than it.

“You’re the best thing I've ever owned.” She puts you down beside her.

Both of you stared at the ceiling, blankly, as full, heavy breath took over the silence. Did you have sex? That’s a question that may need centuries to answer. Did you enjoy it? In some circumstances, it’s a lie if the answer’s no. Did she enjoy it? Absolutely.

“...”

“...”

“...”

“Time to pack you up.” She stood up, picked you up, and cleaned you in her bathroom sink. Your most-awaited shower after swimming in her juices. The slimy feeling shifted into cool water. Her slender fingers washed you thoroughly, and that sealed you as her most precious stuff.

She wiped you with a clean towel, then packed you with it. She puts you down in a drawer, the bottom one.

“I’m pretty sure they’ll come after you, Lid, so I’ll hide you.” She whispered, she’s treating you like a kid as if she knows you understand her very well.

“God… I don’t know anymore…”

The drawer shuts, and your world is now completely black.

*****

The next day.

“Snore. Snore—”

Are you asleep?

“Fuck! Even if I pretend to sleep… I can’t! I’m forever awake!” Dildos never sleep. You are a thing anyway, not a living one.

“Hmmm~ Hmmm~” There’s someone in the room, you can hear her soft humming even though it’s just a faint sound, you can tell she’s happy.

“Is that Wonyoung?”

“Is it here? No. Here? No.” There’s rustling in the same drawer you are nestled in.

“FUCK! IT’S NOT WONYOUNG! IT’S…. IT’S LOOKING FOR ME!”

Your drawer finally opened, the sudden bright light’s blinding, but the girl with her mischievous smile was more blinding.

“Found you.” She picked you up.

"I'm the horny puppy, you’ll make me happy.” She added.

“AHN YUJIN!”

"Rhyme. Should I really write music? How about this toy, bring me some joy, oh boy~." 

“Hey!” Yeji’s voice cut through the music, sharp and commanding. She moved without thinking, her boots thudding across the stage. “Security! Manager-oppa!”

Her shout died in her throat. Three men had materialized at the edge of the stage nearest to her, their faces slack with a hungry intent she’d never seen before. Not the adoring gaze of a Midzy. Something else. Something that made her stomach drop.

“Lia, get back!” Ryujin’s voice cracked.

Lia turned too late. A man had come up behind her, his arms wrapping around her shoulders from the back. She screamed—a short, choked sound that got swallowed by the bass still thumping through the outdoor speakers. The crowd in the back rows kept waving their light sticks, oblivious, the music still playing, the choreography video still running on the giant LED screens.

Chaeryeong saw the flash of a phone camera. Not pointed at the stage. Pointed at her. Pointed at the way her skirt rode up as she stumbled backward. The man nearest to her licked his lips, slow and deliberate, and she felt her blood turn to ice.

“Please,” she whispered, “please don’t—"

He lunged.

The man who had Yuna had her bent backward now, her spine arching over his forearm as he crushed his mouth against hers. Her protest came out as a muffled squeal, her small hands beating uselessly against his chest. He was easily twice her size, his body a wall of muscle and heat, and when he bit her bottom lip—actually bit it, drawing a bead of blood that he lapped up with his tongue—she gagged.

“Tastes like cherries,” he grunted against her mouth. “Fucking knew she would.”

Yuna thrashed. “St-stop! Get off—mmph!”

His hand slid from her waist to her ass, fingers digging into the flesh hard enough to make her yelp. The fabric of her stage shorts stretched taut over his knuckles. He squeezed once, then spanked her—a sharp crack that silenced the nearest section of the crowd. The fans there had stopped cheering. Some still held their phones up, recording.

“Shit, that’s a good ass,” another voice said from behind him. A second man, shorter but thicker, was already unbuckling his belt. “Hold her still. I want a feel.”

Yuna’s eyes went wide. “Wait—wait, no—UNNIES!”

Ryujin was the first to reach her. She grabbed the belt-man by the collar and yanked, her training kicking in—but another man grabbed her from behind, his arm locking around her throat. Not choking. Restraining. His breath was hot and wet against her ear.

“The tomboy one,” he breathed, and he sounded almost reverent. “I’ve jacked off to you so many times. You’re even prettier up close.”

Ryujin’s response was a snarl and an elbow to his ribs. He grunted but held on. Then his hand was on her chest, palm flat over her racing heart, and she felt her throat close up.

“Feel that?” he murmured. “That’s your body telling you how much you want this.”

“I don’t—I don’t want—"

“Liar.” His fingers traced the neckline of her top, dipping beneath the fabric. “Look at your nipples. They're hard for me already.”

She was wearing a sports bra underneath. But he was right—her nipples were peaked, and when he thumbed one through the fabric, a traitorous jolt of sensation shot down her spine. She bit her lip hard enough to hurt. She would not give him the satisfaction of a sound.

He twisted.

A gasp escaped anyway.

Across the stage, Yeji was fighting. Her manager was somewhere—she’d seen him get tackled by two men near the sound booth, his head bouncing off the metal railing with a sickening thud before he went limp. The other staff members were surrounded, pinned, some of them shouting into dead walkie-talkies. The crowd that had been merely confused was now parting like water around sharks as more men pushed toward the stage.

So many men. Forty? Fifty? More, still streaming in from the edges of the outdoor venue. All of them with the same glassy-eyed focus. All of them looking at the five girls like they were the main course at a banquet.

“We’ve got a problem,” a voice boomed from the speakers. The music had cut out, replaced by a low, distorted laugh. “A beautiful fucking problem.”

Yeji’s head snapped up. Someone had gotten into the sound booth. The voice was coming through the same system that had been playing “Motto” thirty seconds ago.

“These idols think they’re too good for us, don’t they?” the voice continued, mockingly sweet. “Dancing around in their little outfits, teasing us, never giving us what we really want. Well, today’s the day. Today, ITZY gives Midzy everything.”

The crowd—the men—roared.

And then the hands came from all directions.

Yeji felt the first one on her thigh, sliding up under her pleated skirt. She kicked backward, connected with something solid, heard a grunt of pain. But another hand replaced it, and another, and then her arms were being wrenched behind her back and a wet mouth was on her neck and she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t—

“Leader-nim,” a voice rasped in her ear. “I’ve wanted to hear you moan for years. Don’t disappoint me.”

Fingers hooked into the collar of her top and yanked. The fabric tore with a sound like ripping paper, and suddenly the August air was hitting her bare breasts. She hadn’t worn a bra—the outfit didn’t allow for one, just pasties and prayer—and now everything was exposed. Her tits, small and perky with dusky pink nipples, bounced obscenely as she struggled.

“Fuck, look at those.” A hand cupped her left breast, thumb flicking over the nipple. “So pretty. So fucking pretty.”

Yeji’s face burned. She wanted to cover herself, but her arms were pinned. All she could do was turn her head away as the man lowered his mouth to her chest and sucked.

The sensation was electric. Unwanted. Her back arched involuntarily, pushing more of her breast into his mouth, and she heard herself make a sound—a tiny, broken whimper that didn’t belong to her.

“There she is,” he chuckled against her skin. “There’s the real Yeji.”

Nearby, Lia was on her knees. She didn’t remember falling—only that someone had shoved her from behind and her legs had given out and now she was staring at the bulge in a stranger’s sweatpants, inches from her face.

“Open up, princess.” The man’s voice was deceptively gentle. His hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head back. “Let’s see if you sing as pretty with your mouth full.”

Lia’s jaw clenched. Her eyes, already glassy with unshed tears, darted to the side. Ryujin was being held by two men now, her shirt rucked up to her collarbone, her sports bra pushed down under her breasts. Chaeryeong was on the ground, a man crouched over her, his hand up her skirt. Yuna was—Yuna was—

A sob broke from Lia’s throat.

Yuna was being stripped. The second man—the belt-man—had gotten her shorts off, and the first was ripping through her stockings with his bare hands. The maknae’s legs were long and tan and trembling, and when the belt-man spread them apart, she let out a high, keening whine that didn’t sound human.

“Please,” she begged, “please, I’m—I’m only—please don’t—"

“Shh.” The man holding Lia’s hair tightened his grip. “I said, open up.”

He was dragging his sweatpants down with his free hand. His cock sprang free—thick, uncut, already slick at the tip—and Lia’s stomach heaved.

“No,” she whispered. “No, I won’t, I—"

He yanked her head forward. Her lips bumped against the head of his cock, and she tasted salt and musk and something faintly bitter. She tried to turn her face away, but his grip on her hair was immovable.

“Last chance to be good, Lia-yah.” His tone was almost conversational. “You can open your mouth, or I can open it for you. But either way, this cock is going down your throat.”

Tears spilled over her cheeks. Her lips parted.

The man groaned as he pushed inside.

Lia’s mouth was warm and wet and unwilling, her tongue pressing flat against the underside of his shaft as he slid deeper. She gagged immediately—he was too thick, too long, hitting the back of her throat before he was even halfway in—and the sound of her choking made the men around them laugh.

“Look at her. Can’t even take half of it.”

“Push her head down. Make her take it all.”

His hips flexed. Lia’s throat convulsed around him, her hands flying up to push against his thighs, her nails digging into the fabric of his pants. Saliva was already pooling at the corners of her mouth, spilling down her chin, dripping onto her chest. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t swallow. All she could do was kneel there and let him fuck her face while her tears mixed with the spit coating his cock.

Shlup. Shlup. Glrk.

The sounds were obscene. Wet and rhythmic and punctuated by Lia’s strangled gasps every time he pulled back enough to let her breathe. He was talking now—they were all talking, a constant stream of filth that washed over the five girls like sewage.

“You like that, don’t you? Taking a real man’s cock instead of dancing around like a tease?”

“Your mouth is so fucking tight. Bet your cunt’s even tighter.”

“I’m gonna fill you up, Lia. Gonna paint your throat with my cum and you’re gonna swallow every drop.”

Lia’s eyes rolled back. Not from pleasure—from lack of air. But her body was reacting anyway. Her nipples had tightened to hard points under her ruined top. Her thighs pressed together, seeking friction she didn’t want to want. And in the back of her throat, a tiny, humiliating moan vibrated around his cock.

He felt it. Laughed. “Oh, she does like it. She’s moaning on my dick.”

Chaeryeong heard everything. She was on her back now, the stage floor cold against her bare shoulders, her skirt bunched around her waist. The man on top of her—the one who’d lunged at her first—had her panties pushed to the side and was running his fingers through her slit with an almost clinical focus.

“So wet,” he muttered. “Didn’t expect that. You’re dripping, Chaeryeong-ssi.”

“I’m not,” she gasped. “That’s—it’s sweat, it’s—"

He slid two fingers inside her. Her words dissolved into a choked cry.

“This isn’t sweat.” He curled his fingers, pressing against something that made her hips buck. “This is cunt juice. Your body knows what it needs even if your mouth is lying.”

He pulled his fingers out, held them up to the light. They were coated in a glistening sheen, sticky strands connecting his middle and index fingers. Then he brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean.

“Sweet,” he pronounced. “Like honey.”

Chaeryeong turned her head to the side and retched. Nothing came up. Her stomach was empty, her body a traitor that kept producing more arousal even as her mind screamed no no no.

Three men were converging on her now. One between her legs. One at her side, already freeing his cock. One kneeling by her head, his hand on the back of her skull.

“Hand or mouth?” the one by her head asked.

“Hand first,” said the one between her legs. “I want her focused when I break her in.”

He lined himself up. The head of his cock pressed against her entrance—she could feel it, hot and blunt and too big—and Chaeryeong started to shake.

“Wait,” she breathed. “Wait, wait, wait—"

He pushed.

The stretch was impossible. Chaeryeong’s mouth opened in a silent scream, her back bowing off the stage floor. He was spreading her apart inch by inch, her walls fluttering and clenching around the intrusion, trying to push him out but only squeezing him tighter.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “She’s so tight. Like a virgin.”

“She probably is a virgin. Most of these idols are.”

“Not anymore, she’s not.”

A hand found her own and guided it to a warm, pulsing shaft. The man at her side. “Jerk it,” he ordered. “If you don’t, I’ll make your friend over there swallow it instead.”

Chaeryeong looked. Yuna was on her hands and knees now, both holes exposed—the belt-man had torn through her underwear too—and a third man was positioning himself behind her, the head of his cock nudging against her virgin pussy.

Yuna’s face was a ruin of tears and smeared lipstick. “Don’t look, unnie,” she sobbed. “Don’t look at me.”

“Eyes forward,” the man at Chaeryeong’s head snapped. “And put some effort into it.”

Her fingers closed around his shaft. She’d never touched a cock before. It was softer than she’d expected—the skin, at least. The flesh beneath was hard as iron, and it throbbed against her palm as she started to move her hand up and down.

“That’s it. Faster.”

She obeyed. Couldn’t do anything else. The man inside her was thrusting now, slow and deep, and every time he bottomed out she felt like she was being split in half. Pain and pressure and something else—something hot and curling that she refused to name—made her grip tighten on the cock in her hand.

The man at her head grunted approval. “Good girl. Now open your mouth.”

Yeji was choking.

Not metaphorically. A hand had wrapped around her throat—not cutting off her air entirely, but squeezing just enough to make every breath a battle. The man behind her had one arm locked around her waist and the other hand circling her neck, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh on either side of her windpipe.

“You look so good like this,” he murmured against her ear. “All helpless and wide-eyed. The great leader of ITZY, reduced to a set of holes.”

His other hand was between her legs. She was naked now—they’d ripped away the rest of her top and her skirt had been tossed somewhere behind the monitors. Only her tights remained, and those were shredded, torn open at the crotch to expose her cunt.

She was bare. Completely bare. The laser hair removal she’d gotten for the comeback had left her smooth and vulnerable, and now the man’s fingers were tracing the lips of her pussy with lazy, proprietary strokes.

“Pretty little clit,” he observed, pressing his thumb against the sensitive nub. Yeji’s hips jerked. “Responsive, too. I wonder how many times I can make you come before I even put my cock in you.”

“Don’t,” she rasped. “Please. I’ll—I’ll do anything—"

“You’ll do anything anyway.” He pinched her clit between his thumb and forefinger and rolled it. Yeji screamed. “See? You don’t get to negotiate. You just get to take it.”

His thumb circled faster. Yeji’s legs tried to close, but there were hands on her thighs now, prying them apart, holding her open for everyone to see. The crowd of men had grown—she could see them from her position, a sea of hungry faces, some of them already stroking themselves as they watched.

Her clit was on fire. Every circle of his thumb sent sparks shooting through her pelvis, and she could feel herself getting wetter. She could hear it—the schlick sound of her own arousal as his fingers slid through her folds. The men watching could hear it too.

“She’s dripping. Look at her cunt, it’s so pink and swollen.”

“Bet she’s close. Make her come, I want to see her face when she breaks.”

His thumb pressed down harder. Faster. Yeji’s vision started to go gray at the edges.

“No,” she gasped. “No, I don’t want—I can’t—"

“You can.” His breath was hot against her ear. “You will. Come for me, Yeji-ssi. Come for all your fans.”

Her orgasm hit like a train.

Yeji’s body convulsed, her hips bucking wildly against his hand as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. Her cunt clenched around nothing, desperate for something to grip, and the man laughed as he felt her pussy spasm against his fingers.

“Fuck, that was a big one.” He held up his hand, showing the men around them. His fingers were drenched, strands of her cum stretching between them like spun sugar. “The leader just came all over my hand. Anyone want a taste?”

A man stepped forward and licked his fingers clean. Yeji hung limply in her captor’s arms, tears streaming down her face, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

But they weren’t done with her.

“Now,” the man behind her said, “let’s see how many more I can get out of you before I stuff this cunt full of cock.”

Yuna was being broken.

The man behind her—the one nudging at her entrance—had pushed inside a few inches and stopped, letting her feel every millimeter of the stretch. Her pussy was tighter than any of them, impossibly small and clenching, and the pressure of his cockhead alone was enough to make her wail.

“Please,” she hiccupped, “please, it hurts, it’s too big, you’re—”

“Gonna feel so good in a minute,” he finished for her. “Just relax, baby. Let it happen.”

He shoved forward. Yuna’s scream was raw, tearing out of her throat as she felt her hymen give way. A trickle of blood ran down her inner thigh, stark red against her pale skin.

“Oh fuck, she was a virgin.” The man’s voice was reverent. “I just popped an idol’s cherry.”

“Don’t stop,” another voice urged. “Keep going. I want to see her take the whole thing.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His hips pulled back, then slammed forward, burying himself to the hilt in Yuna’s newly broken pussy. Her scream dissolved into a series of hitching, animal grunts as he set a brutal pace—slap slap slap, his pelvis smacking against her ass with every thrust.

“Ohhh, fuh-fuck,” she sobbed. “I c-can’t—ahn!—it’s too—hnng—deep!”

“Too deep? Baby, I’m not even all the way in yet.” He grabbed her hips and pulled her back onto his cock, grinding against her cervix. Yuna’s eyes rolled back, her tongue lolling out of her mouth as the sensation overwhelmed her.

Then another man was in front of her, his cock bobbing at eye level. “Open up, maknae. You’ve got another hole to fill.”

Yuna’s mouth opened—not in obedience, but because she’d lost control of her body, her jaw slack with shock and pain and something that was rapidly becoming pleasure. The man seized his chance and thrust inside.

Now she was truly full. Cock in her cunt, cock in her throat, and hands—so many hands—on her breasts, her ass, her waist. Someone was spanking her, hard open-palmed smacks that made her cheeks jiggle and turn pink. Someone else was pinching her nipples, twisting them until she squealed around the cock in her mouth.

The man in her pussy was talking to her, a constant stream of filth that she could barely process. “You love this, don’t you? Getting fucked like a whore in front of everyone. Your pretty idol cunt is sucking my cock so hard. I can feel you clenching—you’re gonna come, aren’t you? You’re gonna come on a stranger’s dick like a good little slut.”

Yuna wanted to deny it. But her body was already tensing, her inner walls fluttering around his shaft, and when he reached around to rub her clit—fast, erratic circles that matched his thrusts—she shattered.

Her scream was muffled by the cock in her mouth. Her cunt clamped down so hard that the man fucking her had to fight to keep moving, his cock squeezed almost painfully by her spasming walls. Fluid gushed around his shaft—clear, copious, soaking his balls and dripping down her thighs—and the men watching went wild.

“She’s squirting! The little bitch is squirting!”

“Holy fuck, make her do it again!”

“I want next. I want to feel her squirt on my cock.”

He kept fucking her through it, pounding into her convulsing pussy until her squirt turned to gushes of thick, creamy fluid. The Skene’s glands enhancement—something she’d never asked for, never wanted—was working against her, her body producing copious amounts of white, semen-like ejaculate that coated his shaft and dripped from her folds in long, sticky strands.

“Look at that,” the man breathed, pulling out to show the others. Yuna’s pussy gaped, her walls visible inside, her hole struggling to close after the brutal fucking. More cream was leaking out, pooling on the stage floor. “She came so hard she creamed all over my dick.”

“My turn,” another man announced, and Yuna barely had time to whimper before a new cock was pushing into her abused cunt.

Lia’s jaw ached.

The man fucking her throat had been at it for minutes now, his pace relentless, and her mouth had gone numb. Saliva and precum dripped down her chin and neck, pooling in her collarbones, soaking into the remnants of her top. She’d stopped gagging—her throat had gone past reflex, her body accepting the intrusion, letting him slide deeper with each thrust.

“There you go,” he grunted, looking down at her. “Look at me.”

She looked up. Her eyes were red-rimmed, tears cutting tracks through her smeared foundation. Her lips were swollen and cherry-red, stretched obscenely around his girth. Her tongue—she had such a long tongue, pointy and agile—was flattened against the underside of his shaft, and when she swallowed involuntarily, the constriction made him groan.

“Gonna come,” he warned. “Gonna pump my load right down your throat. You ready for it, Lia?”

She tried to shake her head. His grip on her hair tightened, holding her still.

His rhythm faltered. His cock pulsed against her tongue. And then her mouth was flooding with hot, bitter cum, jet after jet painting her tongue and palate and the back of her throat.

“Swallow it,” he ordered. “Every fucking drop.”

Lia swallowed. The taste was overwhelming—salt and musk and something faintly medicinal. She gagged again, and some of the cum spilled from the corner of her mouth, trailing down her chin in a thick white string.

“Messy girl.” He pulled out and slapped her cheek lightly with his softening cock. “Clean it up.”

Her tongue darted out, licking the cum from her lips. It was instinct. She wasn’t thinking anymore—couldn’t think, her mind fogged with shock and sensory overload. All she knew was the taste of him, the ache in her jaw, and the hands already pulling her to her feet for the next man.

“My turn with the main vocalist,” someone said, and Lia found herself being bent over a monitor, her ass in the air, her ruined tights peeled down to her knees. Her cunt was exposed, still wet from the earlier groping, and she felt the head of a new cock pressing against her entrance.

“Wait,” she whispered, “I just—I need a second—”

“You don’t get a second.”

He entered her in one smooth stroke. Lia’s mouth fell open, a soundless gasp as her walls stretched around the new intrusion. This cock was thicker than the first one she’d felt—broader across the head, with a pronounced vein that dragged against her inner walls with every inch.

“Mmmmph,” she vocalized, her fingers scrabbling at the monitor for purchase. “Oh, oh, oh—”

“Yeah, let it out. Let everyone hear you sing.”

His hips snapped forward. The monitor shook with the force of his thrusts, and Lia’s tits—still covered by her torn top—bounced rhythmically, drawing the attention of the men surrounding them.

“Her voice is so pretty when she’s getting fucked.”

“Want to hear her scream. Fuck her harder.”

He fucked her harder. Lia’s “oh”s became “ah”s became high-pitched shrieks that pierced through the noise of the crowd. She was so tight around him, her cunt gripping his cock like a fist, and every time he pulled back her walls tried to suck him back in.

“You’re so wet,” he groaned, looking down at where they were joined. Her pussy was drenched, her folds puffy and pink and stretched around his shaft. “Can you hear it? Can you hear the nasty sounds your cunt is making?”

She could. Shlick. Shlick. Squelch. Each thrust produced a wet, sloppy noise that made her face burn with humiliation.

“Please,” she babbled, “please, I don’t—I can’t—you’re stretching me so much, it’s too—”

“It’s too what?” He angled his hips, and suddenly he was hitting something that made her vision go white. “That’s your G-spot, isn’t it? Right there?”

Lia couldn’t answer. Words had left her entirely. All that came out was a broken, guttural moan as he pounded that spot relentlessly, each strike sending lightning bolts of pleasure through her body.

Her orgasm building was undeniable now—a pressure in her lower belly, a tightening in her thighs, a fluttering deep in her cunt. She tried to fight it, tried to clench down against the feeling, but her body wouldn’t listen.

“Come on my cock, Lia. Let go.”

And she did.

This orgasm was different from the first one she’d witnessed. Deeper. Longer. It started in her toes and rolled upward, a wave of sensation that crashed through her pelvis and exploded outward. Her cunt spasmed violently around his cock, her back bowed, and a sound she’d never made before—a long, keening wail—tore from her throat.

He kept fucking her through it, drawing it out, letting her ride the crest until she collapsed bonelessly against the monitor. When he pulled out, her pussy made a wet popping sound, and a flood of her own cream—mixed with the precum he’d leaked inside her—dripped down her thighs.

“Good girl,” he said, patting her ass. “Now spread your legs wider. I’m not done with you yet.”

Ryujin was on her knees, and she was furious.

They’d stripped her to her underwear—black lace, chosen because it made her feel powerful—and three men were circling her like sharks. Her jaw was clenched so hard her teeth ached. Her fists were balled at her sides. When the first man reached for her, she spit in his face.

“Feisty.” He wiped the saliva from his cheek almost appreciatively. “I like that. Makes it more fun when they break.”

“I’m not going to break.” Her voice was steady. She was proud of that. “Do whatever you want. I won’t give you the satisfaction.”

“We’ll see.”

They pushed her down onto her back, her arms pinned above her head, her legs forced apart. The man between them—the one who’d spoken—hooked his fingers into the crotch of her panties and pulled them aside. Her cunt was exposed, the dark thatch of hair at its apex trimmed into a neat triangle.

“Landing strip,” he observed. “Classy.”

“Fuck you.”

“Not yet.” He bent down and swiped his tongue through her slit.

Ryujin’s body jerked. She’d been prepared for pain—for more forcing, more violation—but this. This was something else. His tongue was wet and skilled, tracing the folds of her pussy with slow, deliberate laps. He found her clit and circled it, and her hips bucked without her permission.

“No,” she gasped. “Stop, I don’t—fucking stop—”

His tongue pressed flat against her clit and vibrated. Ryujin screamed.

The sound shocked her. It was high and desperate and utterly out of her control, and when he did it again—buzzing his tongue against that bundle of nerves—she screamed again, her thighs clamping around his head.

“She’s sensitive,” one of the men holding her arms said with a laugh. “Look at her, she’s already soaked.”

Ryujin was. Her cunt was dripping, her arousal coating the man’s chin as he ate her with obscene enthusiasm. She could feel her control slipping, the anger in her chest being replaced by something hotter, more demanding.

“Stop fighting it,” the man between her legs murmured against her clit. “Just let yourself feel good.”

“Never,” she snarled—but it came out more like a moan.

He pushed a finger inside her. Then two. Then three. Ryujin’s back arched off the floor as he stretched her open, his fingers curling to press against her G-spot while his tongue continued its assault on her clit.

The combination was devastating. She could feel the orgasm approaching like a freight train—unstoppable, inevitable—and she hated herself for it. Hated her body for responding. Hated the moans spilling from her lips. Hated the way her hips were rolling, fucking herself on his fingers, chasing more.

“Come for me, Ryujin.” His voice was dark and coaxing. “Let me taste it.”

She came with a curse on her lips—fuckfuckfuck—and a flood of wetness that gushed around his fingers. Her squirt was different from Yuna’s; thinner, clearer, soaking his face and the stage floor beneath her. The men around them cheered as she writhed, her body out of her control, her orgasm dragged out by his relentless tongue until she was a shivering, sobbing mess.

“There,” he said, sitting back and wiping his mouth. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Ryujin couldn’t answer. She was crying—the first tears she’d shed—and the humiliation of it burned almost as hot as the pleasure.

“Now,” he continued, unbuckling his belt, “let’s see if your cunt feels as good as it tastes.”

Chaeryeong had two cocks in her cunt.

She didn’t know how it had happened. One minute she was jerking off the man at her side while the first man fucked her, and the next there were hands spreading her legs impossibly wide and a second cockhead pressing against her already-stuffed entrance.

“No,” she’d cried, “you can’t—that won’t fit—”

“It’ll fit.” The second man—thinner than the first, but longer—lined himself up alongside the other cock. “Just relax.”

They pushed in together. Chaeryeong’s world became a white-hot point of pressure. Her cunt was being stretched beyond anything it was made for, the two shafts rubbing together inside her, filling her so completely that she felt like she was being impaled.

“Hnng—fuh—please—” Her words were broken, barely coherent. Her hands were on her own breasts now, squeezing them mindlessly, her nipples hard peaks against her palms.

“Look at her. She’s taking it like a champ.”

“Fucking hell, her cunt is so tight like this. I can feel the other dick.”

They started to move. Not in rhythm—one would push in while the other pulled back, creating a constant, grinding friction that drove Chaeryeong out of her mind. She was babbling now, a stream of Korean and English and nonsense syllables, her eyes rolled so far back that only the whites showed.

“I can’t—I can’t—too much—oh god, oh god, oh god—”

The man at her head hadn’t gotten his turn in her mouth yet. He was stroking himself, watching her face contort with pleasure-pain, waiting for the right moment.

That moment came when the two men in her cunt came simultaneously.

They’d been fucking her for what felt like hours, their pace increasingly erratic, their groans louder. When they finally tipped over the edge, it was together—twin eruptions of hot cum flooding her pussy, filling every crevice, overflowing around their cocks and gushing down her thighs.

Chaeryeong felt it all. The pulses. The heat. The way her cunt stretched even more to accommodate the sudden volume of semen. And something else—a third orgasm, triggered by the sensation of being filled, that made her scream so loud her voice cracked.

“MMMMPPHH!”

The man at her head seized his chance and thrust into her open mouth. She was too overwhelmed to resist, her throat accepting him easily, her tongue laving his shaft as he fucked her face.

The men in her cunt pulled out, and the sight of her—spread open, gaping, cum leaking from her ruined hole—made the watching crowd roar with approval.

Yuna had lost count of how many men had used her.

Her entire body was marked. Handprints on her ass, red and purple bruises on her hips, bite marks on her shoulders and neck. Her cunt was a mess of cum and cream and the thin trickle of blood from her torn hymen. Her mouth tasted of three different men. Her hair was matted with sweat and semen.

And yet. And yet.

Her body kept responding.

The man currently fucking her—the fifth? Sixth?—had her in a standing doggy position, her upper body supported by one of the stage monitors. He was thick and mean, slamming into her with no rhythm or care, and she could feel herself climbing toward another orgasm despite everything.

“Ohhh, f-fuck,” she whimpered, her voice hoarse from screaming. “I’m—I’m gonna—nnh!—I can’t stop it—”

“Then don’t.” He reached around and pressed on her lower belly, right where the bulge of his cock was visible through her skin. The pressure was insane, making her feel even fuller. “Come on my cock again, little whore. I want to feel it.”

Yuna’s orgasm ripped through her, brutal and unwilling. Her pussy convulsed around his shaft, milking him, and he groaned as he pumped his load deep inside her, adding to the reservoir of cum already filling her womb.

She sagged when he pulled out, her legs giving way. But before she could collapse, hands caught her—multiple pairs—and she was being repositioned.

On her back. Legs spread. Pussy gaping and leaking. And another cock, already hard, already pressing against her entrance.

“No rest for the wicked,” her new partner said, and pushed inside.

Yeji had stopped counting her orgasms after five.

The man who’d been tormenting her clit had been replaced by a new one, this one more interested in her ass. He had her on her stomach, a bundle of stage curtains shoved under her hips to raise them, her asscheeks parted to reveal the tight, pink pucker of her anus.

“Ever had it here?” he asked, running a lubricated finger around her rim.

Yeji shook her head weakly. “Please—that’s—I’ve never—”

“Even better.”

The first finger was a shock. The second was a burn. The third made her sob into the fabric beneath her face. He worked her open slowly, methodically, stretching her asshole until it could accommodate his girth.

“Ready?” he asked, lining up.

“No,” she whispered. “Please, no—”

But he was already pushing in, and Yeji’s world narrowed to the impossible sensation of being filled in a place she’d never imagined being touched. Her asshole stretched and burned around him, her rim gripping his shaft like a too-tight ring.

“Oh god,” she choked, “oh god, oh fuck, it’s—hnnng—it’s so deep—”

It was deeper than anything in her cunt had been. She felt like he was in her stomach, in her throat, rearranging her insides with every slow, deliberate thrust. Her asshole was gaping around him, stretched beyond its limits, the wrinkled skin pulled smooth.

“Your ass is so fucking tight,” he groaned. “Better than any pussy.”

He reached around to rub her clit while he fucked her ass. The combination sent her spiraling into another orgasm—her sixth—and this time her squirt was tinged with the urine she’d been holding in.

The mix of sensations—the burn in her ass, the pleasure in her clit, the release of her bladder—was too much. Yeji felt her mind go blank, her body giving over entirely to the men using her.

Lia’s face was being painted.

She didn’t know how many men had come on her. Five? Six? They’d formed a circle around her, stroking themselves, taking turns shooting their loads across her cheeks and forehead and lips. Her skin was coated in layers of white, thick and warm, dripping down her neck and into her open mouth.

“Open wide,” one of them said, and she did—instinctively, obediently—and he shot his cum directly onto her tongue.

She swallowed. The taste was familiar now—she’d drunk so much, gallons of it, it felt like—and her throat worked mechanically as she drank down his load.

“Good girl,” he said, patting her cum-soaked hair. “Now clean this up.”

He grabbed her hand and pressed it to her own face, smearing the cum across her skin like lotion. Lia let him guide her movements, spreading the semen over her cheeks and forehead and chin until her face gleamed with it.

“Beautiful,” someone said. “She looks like a glazed doughnut.”

Laughter. More stroking. More cum.

When they let her go, she didn’t move. Just knelt there, dripping, her mind floating somewhere far away.

Ryujin was being fisted.

The man who’d eaten her out had decided he wanted to feel her from the inside. “You’re so wet,” he’d said, “I bet I can get my whole hand in there.” She’d laughed at him—a desperate, defiant sound—but now she wasn’t laughing.

Four fingers were inside her. The widest part of his knuckles was pressing against her entrance, and she could feel herself stretching impossibly around them.

“I can’t,” she gasped. “It won’t—I can’t take it—”

“You can.” His thumb folded inward, and then—with a final, steady push—his hand slid inside.

Ryujin screamed.

Her cunt was stretched so wide she thought she might tear. His fist was a solid, heavy presence inside her, and when he rotated it—slowly, gently—she felt something inside her press against his knuckles.

“Is that your cervix?” he asked, genuinely curious. “I think I’m touching your womb.”

Her vision was going gray. Her breath was coming in short, sharp gasps. And when his fist pressed deeper, grinding against that spot deep inside her, she came harder than she ever had in her life.

Her squirt was a jet, spraying out around his wrist and soaking his arm. Her cunt clamped down on his fist, trying to expel it and pulling it deeper at the same time. Her screams echoed off the stage monitors, heard by everyone, seen by everyone.

Chaeryeong was on top now—the first position that had given her any control, though control was an illusion. The man beneath her was buried in her cunt, and another was behind her, her asshole stretched around his cock.

“Ride us,” the one beneath her commanded, and she did—a broken, uncoordinated bounce that made both cocks slide deeper.

“Oh f-fuck, I can feel you both,” she sobbed. “It’s too much—ahn!—every time I move you hit—you’re hitting—hnnnng—”

“Our cocks are rubbing together inside you,” the one in her ass said, gripping her hips. “We’re fucking each other’s dicks through your holes.”

Chaeryeong’s mind broke a little more at that. She was a vessel now. A living fleshlight. A thing to be filled and used and discarded.

And yet she kept moving. Kept bouncing. Kept moaning.

Yuna was drinking piss.

She didn’t know how it had started. A cock in her mouth, the familiar taste of precum, and then—something different. Thinner. Warmer. Acrid on her tongue.

Her eyes flew open, but the man holding her head down didn’t let her pull away. “Drink it,” he growled. “Every drop.”

And she did. Her throat worked, swallowing the stream of urine as it flooded her mouth. The taste was bitter and salty, coating her tongue and teeth, pooling in her stomach. When he finally finished—it felt like minutes, hours—she was gasping, her lips dripping with golden liquid.

“Good girl,” he said, pulling out. “Looks like you needed a drink.”

Another man stepped up, cock already aimed at her open mouth. “My turn.”

This time, she opened her mouth willingly. The piss hit her tongue, and she swallowed it down, her body trembling with something that might have been revulsion or might have been pleasure.

She couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

Yeji’s throat was being used as a urinal too, but from the other end. The man who’d fucked her ass had pulled out—her hole gaping, dark and stretched—and was now positioning his cock at her rectum once more.

“This might feel a little warm,” he warned.

And then he was releasing inside her. Not cum. Urine. A steady, hot stream that filled her empty bowels, the pressure building until she whimpered.

“Hold it,” he commanded, pressing a makeshift plug—a wadded-up piece of fabric—against her asshole. “That’s your job now. Holding my piss.”

Yeji felt the liquid sloshing inside her, warm and degrading. Her abdominal muscles clenched around it, her intestines absorbing what they could, and the shame of it—the sheer, breathtaking humiliation—made her cunt clench on nothing.

“Look at her,” someone said. “She’s getting off on it. The piss-whore is getting wet from being used as a toilet.”

It was true. Yeji’s arousal was dripping down her thigh, undeniable evidence of her body’s betrayal.

Lia was next to be toilet-trained. A man had ordered her onto her back, mouth open, and was now squatting over her face, his asshole—dark and hairy—inches from her lips.

“Stick out your tongue.”

She obeyed, and he lowered himself until his ass was flush against her face. His crack sealed around her mouth, his hole pressing against her tongue.

“Clean it.”

She licked. The taste was bitter, earthy, faintly fecal. She gagged but didn’t stop, her tongue swiping across his pucker, cleaning away whatever residue lingered there.

“That’s a good toilet,” he grunted. “Now open wide. I’ve got something more nutritious for you.”

She knew what was coming before it happened. His body tensed, his hole relaxed, and then—

The shit that hit her tongue was soft and warm. Lia’s throat convulsed, trying to reject it, but she forced herself to stay still. To take it. To swallow.

“Eat it all,” he commanded. “Every bite. That’s your nourishment now—my shit and my piss. Nothing else.”

Lia swallowed. Then swallowed again. Then licked his ass clean of any remaining traces.

When he stood up and looked down at her, her lips were smeared with brown. Her teeth were stained. But her eyes—her eyes were glazed with something that looked almost like pride.

“Good toilet,” he said, patting her head. “Good girl.

The men who’d been waiting their turn had grown impatient. A restless, bristling energy crackled through the crowd pressed against the stage’s edge, and the ones who’d already had a taste of Yuna were still hungry—still stroking, still watching the maknae’s limp form with the glittering eyes of predators who’d scented blood and wanted more.

“Get her up,” someone barked, a voice thick with command and cheap soju. “On the monitor. I want to see every hole from the fucking screens.”

Hands—thick-knuckled, calloused, unfamiliar—hooked under Yuna’s armpits and hauled her off the sticky stage floor. She was a ragdoll of limbs and smeared makeup, her sequined crop top long since torn away, her pleated stage shorts vanished somewhere beneath the stampede of bodies. The remnants of her stockings clung in shreds to her thighs, the fabric dark with cum and sweat and the thin, pinkish stain of her broken hymen.

Her head lolled. The world tilted—blue sky, black monitor, faceless grins—and then her back hit a cold, vibrating surface. The main stage monitor, the one she’d danced beside during countless rehearsals, now a table for her degradation. They bent her backward over it, the curved edge digging into her spine, and her legs were lifted, spread, and draped over the shoulders of two different men.

“Look at that cunt,” one of them breathed, and Yuna felt the August heat against her exposed slit. She was still gaping. Her pussy—a color somewhere between rose and bruised coral, shaved smooth for the comeback, the outer lips puffy and darkening from brutal use—hung open like a wound that refused to close. Inside, her walls were visible, glistening and pink, clenching weakly around a void that had been filled and emptied so many times she’d lost count. A thick bead of mixed cum and her own creamy ejaculate slid from the depths of her hole and trickled down the crease of her ass.

“She’s still leaking,” a man observed, tracing a finger along her inner thigh. “So fucking messy.”

Yuna whimpered. Her voice was a rusted hinge, scraped raw from screaming. “P-please… I can’t… no more…”

But her body told a different story. Even now, with five men closing in around her—their cocks out, their faces set with that same glassy focus—her cunt produced another trickle of slick, the inner muscles fluttering as if already anticipating the next invasion. The Skene’s glands that had betrayed her all afternoon were still swollen, still overactive, still ready to pump out more of that thick, creamy fluid that had the men calling her a “creamer” and a “cum-slut” and worse.

A man stepped between her spread legs. Tall. Broad. His cock was a brutal thing, curved upward like a scimitar, the head a shiny, bulbous helmet already slick with precum. He slapped it against her gaped pussy—once, twice—and the wet shlap sound echoed off the monitors. Yuna’s hips jerked involuntarily.

“This hole’s already ruined,” he said, almost conversationally. “Might as well use it while it’s still warm.” He looked down at her, past the expanse of her trembling stomach and heaving ribs, and grinned. “You’re gonna take five of us at once, maknae. Mouth. Cunt. Feet. Two in your throat if we feel like it. And you’re gonna do it without using your hands. Got it?”

Yuna’s head shook. A tear slid from the corner of her eye, trailing toward her temple. “I—I can’t, your c-cocks are too—hnng—”

He didn’t wait. With one brutal, gliding thrust, he buried himself inside her.

The sound that tore from Yuna’s throat wasn’t a scream. It was something beyond that—a guttural hnnngguuhhh that vibrated through her entire frame. Her cunt, so recently abused, so terribly stretched, still managed to clench around him with a desperate, sucking grip. She felt every vein, every ridge of his scimitar-curve, as he bottomed out against her cervix with a dull, grinding pressure that made her vision spark white.

“Ohhh f-ffffffuck,” she gasped, her back bowing off the monitor. “You’re—y-you’re so deep, it’s—ahn!—it’s in my—hnng—womb—”

“That’s the point, baby.” He pulled back, and her pussy lips clung to his shaft, stretched into an obscene O around his girth. Then he slammed forward again, harder, and Yuna’s eyes rolled back.

While he settled into a brutal pace—slow withdrawals, devastating plunges—the other men were positioning themselves. A second cock appeared at her mouth. This one was thinner but longer, almost serpentine, with a pronounced vein snaking along its underside. The man attached to it grabbed a fistful of her matted hair and yanked her head back until her throat was a vulnerable, exposed column.

“Open,” he said.

Yuna’s lips parted. Instinct. Training. Her mind had gone somewhere else entirely—a small, dark room where the Yuna who danced and laughed and made eye contact with Midzys was curled up, hiding. The Yuna who remained was just a body. A set of holes. A thing.

He fed his cock into her mouth slowly, letting her taste every inch. Salt. Musk. The faint, sharp tang of the lubricant he’d stroked himself with. Her tongue—that long, pointy tongue the fans always complimented—flattened against the underside of his shaft as he slid deeper. When he hit the back of her throat, he didn’t stop.

Glrk.

Yuna’s throat constricted, a reflexive gag that only massaged his cockhead. He groaned and pushed further, those serpentine inches disappearing past her soft palate. Her nostrils flared, desperate for air that wasn’t coming. Her throat bulged visibly, a slight protrusion that the men watching pointed at and laughed about.

“Look at that. She’s swallowing him whole.”

“Bet she can take two. We should try that next.”

The man in her throat began to fuck her face with short, shallow thrusts, and the wet shlurp-shlurp-shlurp of it became a rhythm section beneath the slap-slap-slap of the man in her cunt.

Two cocks. Two holes. But there were three more to go.

A pair of hands grabbed her left foot—bare now, her stage heels long gone—and she felt something hot and hard press against her sole. Yuna’s toes curled reflexively, and the man holding her foot groaned.

“Fuck, her feet are pretty. Soft. Look at those arches.” He positioned the head of his cock in the valley of her foot, right where the arch curved, and began to thrust. The friction was dry at first, a strange, chafing sensation that made Yuna’s toes spread, but then he spat—a thick glob of saliva that landed right between her second and third toes—and used it to slick his passage.

“Foot-fuck the little idol whore,” he grunted, his hips pistoning. “Come on, curl those toes. Grip my dick like you mean it.”

Yuna obeyed. She didn’t know why. Perhaps because it was easier than fighting. Her toes curled around his shaft, and the sensation of hot skin sliding against the sensitive arch of her foot sent a strange, electric tingle up her leg.

Meanwhile, her right foot was being similarly claimed. This man was shorter, stockier, his cock uncut and dripping with a constant, clear stream of precum. He didn’t bother with the arch—he sandwiched his shaft between the sole of her foot and his own palm, using her like a fleshy sex toy, his hips humping against her with the desperate rhythm of a man who’d been edging himself for hours.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s it,” he panted. “Rub that idol pussy with your other foot—no, wait, you’re busy. Just keep that fucking foot tight.”

So there she was. Yuna, the maknae of ITZY, splayed across a stage monitor with one cock jackhammering her gaped cunt, another slithering down her throat, and two more grinding against the soles of her feet. Four cocks. Four men using her simultaneously. And still, a fifth man waited—stroking himself lazily as he watched, his eyes tracing the jiggle of her small, perky breasts with every thrust, the tears that leaked steadily from her half-lidded eyes, the drool that spilled from the corner of her stretched mouth and pooled in the hollow of her throat.

That fifth man was the one Yuna’s glazed gaze kept darting toward. He was different. Where the others were frantic, he was calm. Where they grunted and cursed, he just watched—his hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes along a shaft that was easily the thickest of the five. Not the longest, but thick. Veiny. The head an angry, purplish red that looked almost painful. He caught her staring and smiled.

“You want it, don’t you?” His voice was soft, almost kind. The contradiction made her stomach flip. “You want to feel how much fatter my cock is than the one in your cunt right now.”

Yuna tried to shake her head, but the serpentine cock in her throat prevented any movement beyond a weak, choking mm-mmph.

“It’s okay,” he continued, stepping closer. He loomed over her face—blocking out the sun—and his free hand came down to cup her cheek with a gentleness that made her sob. “I’ll give you what you need. But first… I think you need to empty that bladder of yours.”

Her eyes widened.

The man in her cunt paused mid-thrust, his scimitar-curve buried to the hilt. “She needs to piss?”

“She’s been holding it since before the fanmeet,” the thick-cocked man said, still stroking himself. “Look at her lower belly. See that little bulge? That’s a full bladder. And her cunt’s so fucking tight around your dick because she’s squeezing everything in. Let her go. Let’s see what happens.”

The man in her cunt pulled out with a wet pop, and Yuna’s pussy gaped even wider, her inner walls glistening, her cervix a shadowed ring deep inside. The sudden emptiness made her gasp—the cock in her throat had withdrawn too—and she coughed, spitting saliva and precum onto her chin.

“Please,” she rasped, “I can’t—if I let go, I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Pee all over yourself?” The man with the thick cock knelt beside the monitor, bringing his face level with hers. His thumb traced her lower lip. “That’s the point, baby. I want to see you lose control. I want to see that pretty idol pussy spray everything you’ve been holding inside. And then…” He pressed his thumb into her mouth, and she sucked it instinctively. “Then I’m going to fill up whichever hole you’ve got left.”

The man who’d been fucking her feet—the left one—slowed his pace. “Shit, I want to see this. Let her piss.”

“Me too,” said the foot-fucker on the right.

“Do it,” said the throat-fucker, his serpentine cock still bobbing wetly. “And then I want my turn back in her mouth.”

The scimitar-curved man stepped aside, his soaked shaft slapping against his abdomen. “All yours. Make it a show.”

The thick-cocked man helped her sit up—gently, so gently—and repositioned her so she was lying on her back across the monitor again, but this time her legs were raised and spread by the two foot-fuckers, exposing her cunt and urethra to the hungry crowd. Her bladder ached with a pressure so intense she could barely breathe around it. She’d needed to pee since before the fanmeet—nerves, the liters of water she’d drunk to keep her voice hydrated—and everything that had happened had only squeezed that need tighter and tighter until she was a trembling, desperate knot.

“Now,” the man said, his thick cockhead pressing against her inner thigh, smearing precum. “Let go. Piss for us.”

“I—I can’t, it’s—oh f-fuck, I’m—” The pressure was unbearable. Her pelvic muscles, already exhausted from orgasms and fisting and double penetration, were beginning to fail. A single, steaming drop beaded at her urethra, glistening in the sunlight.

“There it is,” someone whispered.

And then she broke.

The stream came out in a hot, golden arc, spraying from between her puffy pussy lips and splattering across the stage monitor. It was copious—more than she’d expected—and the release was so intense, so overwhelming, that her cunt clamped down on nothing and triggered a sudden, catastrophic orgasm.

“AAAHHHNN—FUH-FUH-FUCK—I’M COMING—I’M—NNNGGHHH—”

Her body convulsed. Her back arched so high that her shoulder blades were the only thing touching the monitor. Her cunt gushed—not urine now, but a thick, creamy ejaculate that came in rhythmic pulses, so much that it pooled beneath her and dripped onto the stage in long, sticky ropes. The two foot-fuckers exchanged a glance and then started fapping against her arching soles with renewed vigor, the sight of her pissing herself into an orgasm clearly the most erotic thing they’d ever witnessed.

The stream of urine arced higher, splashing across her own stomach, her breasts, even catching the underside of her chin. It mingled with the cum already drying on her skin, and the smell—sharp, acrid, unmistakably human—filled the air around the stage.

“Holy shit, she’s still going,” the serpentine man breathed. “How much did she drink?”

But the thick-cocked man wasn’t watching the piss. He was watching Yuna’s face. Her tongue—that long, pointed tongue—was lolling out of her open mouth, her eyes rolled so far back only a sliver of iris showed, her cheeks flushed a feverish pink. Drool and tears and the spray of her own urine made her look like a painting of a martyr in the throes of divine ecstasy.

And when her orgasm finally, finally began to ebb—her hips still twitching, her cunt still pulsing out smaller gushes of cream—the thick-cocked man made his move.

He climbed onto the monitor. Straddled her. He positioned himself not at her mouth, not at her cunt, but at her throat—from above. Her head was tilted back, inviting, that slender neck exposed. He took his fat, veiny cock in one hand and pressed the purplish head against her lips.

“Last hole, baby. And this one’s gonna be the tightest.”

Yuna’s mouth opened wider than it ever had. The head of his cock pushed past her lips, stretching them into a perfect O, and then into a wider stretch that made the corners of her mouth burn. She gagged immediately—he was so thick, so impossibly fat, that her jaw ached just accommodating the first three inches.

“Relax that throat,” he murmured, threading his fingers through her sweat-matted hair. “You’ve taken bigger, right? Deeper? This is just… wider.”

He pushed further. Yuna’s throat made a sound—a wet, choking glrkkk—and her hands, which she’d been forbidden to use, flew up instinctively to push at his thighs. But the two foot-fuckers grabbed her wrists and pinned them at her sides.

“Hands-free, remember?” the thick-cocked man reminded her, almost playfully. “You take it with your throat or you don’t take it at all.”

Yuna’s vision was spotting. The girth was a solid, unyielding presence crushing her soft palate, her uvula, the walls of her esophagus. She couldn’t swallow—there was no room. All she could do was breathe in short, desperate snatches through her nose and let the tears stream freely down her temples.

But he wasn’t even halfway in.

“Almost there,” he grunted, and then he gave a final, relentless push that buried his entire length in her throat.

The bulge that appeared in Yuna’s neck was obscene. A thick, moving protrusion that shifted with his pulse. The men around them—the serpentine one, the scimitar-curved one, the two foot-fuckers, and dozens more watching from the front of the crowd—let out a collective guttural sound of disbelief and arousal.

“She took it. The little whore took the whole fucking thing.”

“Her throat’s a sleeve. Look at it. Look at her neck.”

Yuna’s eyes were wide, unseeing. Her body had gone into a state of complete surrender, every muscle relaxed, every defense dismantled. She was a throat. A hole. A vessel. And when the thick-cocked man began to fuck her neck—slow, deep, deliberate thrusts that made the monitor shake—the serpentine man decided he wasn’t finished with her mouth.

“Make room,” he said, and he slid his thinner, longer cock into Yuna’s mouth alongside the thick one.

It shouldn’t have fit. Two cocks in her mouth at once—one stretching the width of her throat, the other pressing against her cheek, rubbing against the first shaft through the thin membrane of tissue. But Yuna’s jaw had been unhinged by the first. Her lips stretched wider than they’d ever been, the delicate skin at the corners cracking slightly, a bead of blood mixing with the saliva and precum. And still—still—she didn’t use her hands. She couldn’t. They were pinned. She just lay there, her mouth and throat stuffed with two pulsing cocks, her cunt gaping and dripping beneath her, her feet still being humped by the two foot-fuckers who were close, so close, their grunts becoming desperate.

Five cocks. Hands-free. Just like they’d demanded.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” the left-foot man gasped, his rhythm faltering. He pressed the head of his uncut cock between Yuna’s toes, and then he was spurting—hot, thick ropes of semen that coated her foot, her ankle, dripping down onto the monitor. His cum was thick and white, pearlescent, pooling between her toes as he kept pumping, kept groaning, kept grinding against her sole.

The right-foot man followed seconds later, his cock erupting against her instep, his load hotter and thinner, spurting in quick, copious jets that dripped down her calf.

And yet they kept fucking her feet. The left man kept sliding his cock through the slippery mess of his own cum, using it as lube to continue the foot-job until he was too sensitive, too raw, to continue. The right man did the same, milking the last of his pleasure from Yuna’s sole before finally, reluctantly, releasing her ankle.

The scimitar-curved man seized his opportunity. With her feet abandoned, he grabbed her hips instead, lifted her ass off the monitor, and drove back into her cunt with a wet, eager shlorp. Yuna’s pussy accepted him easily now—too easily—her walls loose and welcoming after so many brutal fucks, but still the friction of his curved cock against her G-spot made her inner muscles clench, made her breathe harder around the two cocks in her mouth.

“Fuck, she’s so wet inside,” he grunted, pounding into her with short, brutal strokes. “I can feel the other guys’ cum sloshing around. It’s like fucking a bucket of spunk.”

The two men in her throat were close. She could feel it in the way their shafts pulsed, the way the thick one swelled even further, the way the serpentine one’s vein throbbed against her tongue.

“I’m gonna paint her face,” the thick-cocked man announced, pulling out of her throat with a wet schlorp. Yuna gasped for air, but before she could even fill her lungs, the serpentine man pulled out too, and both of them were jerking off over her face, their cocks aimed at her open mouth, her closed eyes, her flushed cheeks.

“Stick out your tongue,” the thick-cocked man commanded.

Yuna did. That long, pointy tongue extended as far as it could go, desperate, eager, a target for their release.

The serpentine man came first, his load thinner and milkier, spraying across her tongue and the roof of her mouth. Yuna’s taste buds flooded with salt and bitterness, and she swallowed reflexively, her throat working around the thick, warm fluid. Then the thick-cocked man erupted, and his load was something else entirely—copious, viscous, almost chunky, jet after jet of thick, white cum that plastered her tongue, her cheeks, her forehead, her eyelids. She couldn’t swallow fast enough. The cum overflowed, spilling down her chin, pooling in her collarbones, dripping into her ears.

“Mmmmph—ah—ahhh—” Her moans were wet, gurgling, desperate. She swallowed again and again, and still more cum came, and still more was smeared across her face by the serpentine man’s slowing strokes.

When they finally finished, her face was a canvas. A bukkake masterpiece painted across the maknae’s delicate features. Cum dripped from her eyelashes, clung to her brows, filled the hollows of her temples. Her tongue was coated white, her mouth a reservoir of spent semen. And the thick-cocked man, not satisfied, gathered some of the cum from her cheek with his thumb and pressed it back into her mouth.

“Swallow. Every last drop.”

She swallowed.

But the scimitar-curved man hadn’t finished. He was still fucking her cunt, faster now, his thrusts erratic, his grip on her hips bruising.

“Gonna fill you up again,” he warned, his voice strained. “Gonna pump so much cum into your womb you’ll be dripping for days.”

“D-do it,” Yuna heard herself whisper. It was the first voluntary word she’d spoken in minutes, and it shocked her. But some part of her—some broken, desperate part—wanted to feel full again. Wanted that hot, flooding sensation deep inside. “C-come in me. Ruin my pussy. Fill me up.”

“Fucking slut,” he groaned, and then he was coming—a guttural, primal roar as his cock pulsed inside her, depositing rope after rope of hot semen against her cervix. Yuna’s cunt clenched around him eagerly, milking his shaft, and her own orgasm—a smaller, gentler one this time—rippled through her, making her hips rock and her breath catch.

When he pulled out, her pussy couldn’t close. The lips were puffy, swollen, a deep crimson now instead of that innocent rose. The hole yawned open, showing the slick, pink depths inside, and a thick trickle of white cum began to leak out almost immediately, pooling under her ass.

The two foot-fuckers were back, spent but watching with satisfied grins. The serpentine man was tucking himself into his pants. The thick-cocked man was still kneeling beside her head, stroking her cum-soaked hair with the same gentleness he’d used before.

“You did good,” he murmured, and the praise—impossibly, shatteringly—made Yuna’s eyes well up with fresh tears. “You took five cocks without using those pretty hands once. That’s a record, baby. You should be proud.”

Proud. The word echoed in her hollow chest. She was proud. That was the worst part. Some twisted, blackened corner of her psyche was glowing with the approval, the sense of a job well done. She’d been useful. She’d been good. She’d served her purpose.

The crowd around them had swelled even larger, and the men at the front were already shouting for more.

“Let’s get her in doggy! I want to see that gaped cunt from behind!”

“Roll her over. I want to see if her ass is as tight as her throat.”

“Has anyone made her crawl yet? I want to see the maknae crawl.”

The thick-cocked man looked at the others—the scimitar-curved man, the serpentine man, the foot-fuckers—and a silent communication passed between them. The first round was over. But the second was just beginning, and there were plenty of men who hadn’t had their turn.

“On your hands and knees,” the thick-cocked man said, his gentle tone shifting into something firmer. “Time to show everyone what a good puppy you are.”

Yuna’s body moved before her mind could protest. She rolled off the monitor, her legs buckling when they hit the stage, and she crumpled onto her hands and knees. The stage floor was sticky beneath her palms—cum and sweat and her own urine—and her reflection stared back at her from the polished surface. A face she barely recognized, smeared and dripping and glowing with a strange, hollow submission.

She began to crawl.

The men around her roared their approval. Hands reached out to slap her bouncing ass, leaving fresh red handprints on the already-bruised flesh. Someone grabbed her ankle and licked the cum from between her toes, giggling when she stumbled. Another spat on her back, the warm glob sliding down her spine.

And as Yuna crawled across that stage—past the monitors, past the discarded shreds of her stage outfit, past the unconscious body of the manager she’d once trusted to protect her—she felt the last remnants of the old Yuna curl up and go quiet. In their place was something new. Something hungry. Something that ached to be filled again and again and again, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much she cried, because the crying and the hurting and the pleasure were all tangled up into one inseparable, intoxicating knot.

She stopped crawling when she reached the center of the stage. Raised her ass higher. Spread her knees wider. Looked back over her shoulder with those glassy, tear-drenched eyes.

“P-please,” she whispered, her voice barely a rasp. “More.”

The men surged forward.

From her position near the edge of the stage, Yeji watched Yuna crawl.

The leader's throat was still raw from screaming, her ass still plugged with that wadded fabric holding a stranger's piss inside her bowels, and her cunt—that smooth, laser-bared cunt she'd prepped so carefully for the comeback—was dripping a steady, humiliating trickle of her own arousal down her inner thigh. But none of that mattered right now. Nothing mattered except the sight of her maknae, her baby, the girl she'd trained with and cried with and protected through scandals and injuries and exhaustion, crawling across the stage on her hands and knees like a bitch in heat.

"Yuna," Yeji croaked. The name came out broken, barely a whisper. "Yuna, what are you—"

The maknae didn't hear her. Or if she did, she gave no sign. Yuna's body moved with a strange, fluid grace despite the trembling in her limbs, her spine arched, her ass raised high, her knees spreading wider with every shuffle forward. The handprints on her buttocks were a patchwork of red and purple, some fresh, some already darkening into bruises. Her pussy—that once-innocent, once-virgin pussy—gaped openly between her thighs, the stretched lips unable to close, the pink inner walls glistening with the cum of multiple men and the thick, creamy ejaculate her own augmented Skene's glands kept producing.

And when Yuna reached the center of the stage and looked back over her shoulder, her eyes were different.

Yeji's stomach dropped. She knew that look. She'd seen it in the mirror during their trainee days, after a particularly brutal practice when she'd pushed herself past exhaustion and found something primal, something hungry, on the other side. But this was worse. This was Yuna's face transformed—tear-tracks cutting through smeared cum, swollen lips parted, that long tongue darting out to lick a stray droplet of semen from the corner of her mouth—and her voice, when it came, was a ragged, desperate plea.

"P-please. More."

"No," Yeji breathed, and then louder: "No, Yuna, don't—don't ask for it, don't—"

A hand clamped over her mouth. Hot, calloused fingers pressed into her cheeks, silencing her protest mid-scream. A man's voice—gravelly, amused—rumbled in her ear.

"Let the maknae enjoy herself, leader-nim. She's finally being honest about what she wants. You should try it sometime."

Yeji bit down on the fingers covering her mouth. The man yelped and yanked his hand away, and Yeji used those precious seconds of freedom to thrash against the arms holding her, to crane her neck and search for Lia. The main vocalist was still on the ground where they'd left her, her mouth smeared with brown, her face a mask of drying cum. But her eyes—Lia's eyes were fixed on Yuna too, and they were filling with a horror so profound it looked almost like grief.

"She's broken," Lia whispered, her voice barely audible over the growing roar of the crowd. "Our Yuna. They broke her."

"Not yet," said a new voice, and Yeji's blood ran cold.

Five men were approaching. Five men she hadn't seen before—they must have pushed their way through the crowd, fresh faces with fresh hunger, their hands already working at their belts. The one in front was shorter than the others but thick with muscle, his chest straining against his t-shirt, his eyes crawling over Yeji's exposed body with an ownership that made her skin shrink. Behind him came a tall man with glassy eyes and thick fingers that flexed rhythmically, as if already imagining them inside something warm and tight. Two more flanked the group—twins, or close enough, with the same sharp jawlines and the same hungry smiles. And bringing up the rear, a man with a booming voice that Yeji recognized with a jolt of fresh terror.

It was the voice from the speakers. The sound booth man.

"Ladies," he said, spreading his arms wide like a showman greeting his audience, "I think it's time we gave the leader and the main vocalist some personal attention, don't you?"

The crowd roared. The five men descended.

Yeji was lifted first. Two of them—the muscle-bound one and one of the twins—hooked their arms under her and hoisted her into the air as if she weighed nothing. Her legs kicked uselessly, her fists pounded against shoulders and chests, but they just laughed, repositioning their grips until she was suspended horizontally between them, her bare tits bouncing with every thrash, her shredded tights hanging in strips around her thighs.

"Fuck, look at her cunt," the twin holding her upper body said, peering down at the exposed slit. "It's still leaking from the ass fuck. Is that piss or pussy juice?"

"Both," the muscle-bound one answered, his free hand sliding up her inner thigh. "The leader's a messy girl. Let's see how messy we can make her."

His fingers found her entrance. Two of them, then three, then four. Yeji's protest was a garbled shriek that dissolved into a choking gasp as the thick digits pushed inside her with no preamble, no gentleness, just a brutal, stretching invasion that made her see stars.

"Ahn—f-fuck—stop, you're—"

"Too much?" He curled his fingers inside her, pressing against that spot that made her hips buck involuntarily. "We're just getting started. By the time I'm done, you're gonna take my whole fist like Ryujin did."

Yeji's eyes rolled toward where Ryujin had been. But Ryujin wasn't there anymore.

Ryujin was on her hands and knees, face-to-face with Chaeryeong.

They'd been positioned that way by a group of men who'd grown bored of watching from the sidelines. The two girls were on all fours on a raised portion of the stage, their faces inches apart, their breaths mingling. Ryujin's black lace panties had been torn away entirely, leaving her cunt exposed—still gaping from the fist that had been inside her, the trimmed triangle of dark hair matted with her own squirt. Chaeryeong's skirt had been ripped off too, her pussy in a similar state of ruin, the lips puffy and swollen, a mixture of cum and cream still leaking from her stretched hole.

Behind Ryujin, a man with a long, thick cock lined himself up. Behind Chaeryeong, another man—this one shorter but just as eager—did the same.

"Mirror mirror," the man behind Ryujin said with a laugh, "who's the tightest whore of all?"

Both men pushed in simultaneously.

Ryujin's gasp was sharp, her eyes flying wide. Chaeryeong's was softer—a whimpering ohhh that trembled through her whole frame—but the effect was the same. Two cunts being filled. Two girls staring into each other's faces as strangers' cocks stretched them open from behind.

"Look at each other," the man fucking Chaeryeong commanded, his hips snapping forward with a wet shluk. "I want to see you watching her face when you come. I want to see her watching yours."

Chaeryeong's gaze met Ryujin's. And in that moment, something passed between them—a shared horror, a shared helplessness, and something else. Something warmer. Something that made Chaeryeong's breath catch for reasons that had nothing to do with the cock pumping in and out of her cunt.

Ryujin's hand lifted. Trembling. Hesitant. And then her fingers were on Chaeryeong's cheek, wiping away a tear that had slipped free.

"Chae," she whispered, her voice cracking on the single syllable. "Chae, don't look away. Stay with me."

"R-Ryujin," Chaeryeong breathed back, her hips rocking with the force of the thrusts behind her. "I'm—ahn!—I'm scared, I don't—hnnng—I don't want to—"

"I know." Ryujin's thumb traced Chaeryeong's lower lip. Her eyes, usually so fierce, so defiant, were soft now. Broken. But soft. "I know. Just look at me. Just keep looking at me."

The man behind Ryujin laughed. "Oh, this is good. They're comforting each other. Cute." He punctuated the last word with a particularly brutal thrust that made Ryujin's arm buckle. "But I've got a better idea. Kiss her."

"What?" Ryujin's head tried to turn, but the man grabbed a fistful of her hair and held her face forward.

"Kiss her. Tongue and everything. I want to see the tomboy and the dancer make out like the sluts they are."

Ryujin's jaw clenched. That old defiance flickered in her eyes—she'd spit at the first man who'd touched her, she'd cursed him out, she'd sworn she wouldn't break. But that was before the fist. Before the orgasms. Before she'd watched Yuna crawl across the stage and beg for more.

Now, staring into Chaeryeong's tear-streaked face, she felt that defiance waver. Because it wasn't about fighting anymore. It was about surviving. It was about giving Chaeryeong something to hold onto—something soft in the middle of all this brutality.

"Okay," Ryujin whispered, and Chaeryeong's eyes widened. "Okay, Chae. Just—just close your eyes if you need to. I'll make it gentle."

Chaeryeong didn't close her eyes. She watched Ryujin's face approach—watched those lips, usually twisted in a smirk or a snarl, soften into something almost tender. And when their mouths met, it wasn't the violent collision she'd expected.

It was soft. A brush of lips against lips, dry at first, then wetting as Ryujin's tongue traced the seam of her mouth. Chaeryeong's breath shuddered out through her nose, and she parted her lips, letting Ryujin in.

The kiss deepened. Tongues touched—hesitant, exploratory. Chaeryeong tasted salt from Ryujin's earlier tears, and something else, something earthy and human that was just Ryujin. Behind them, the two men kept fucking, their rhythms falling into sync, and the sensation of being filled while being kissed—this gentle, tender thing—was so disorienting that Chaeryeong's head spun.

"Mmm," Ryujin hummed against her mouth, and the vibration traveled through Chaeryeong's lips, her jaw, her throat. "You taste like—"

"Like what?" Chaeryeong breathed.

"Like you. Like Chaeryeong." Another kiss, deeper this time, Ryujin's tongue sliding along the roof of her mouth. "Sweet. You taste sweet."

A sob caught in Chaeryeong's throat, half pleasure, half grief. She kissed back harder, her hand finding Ryujin's neck, pulling her closer. The man behind her grunted approval and slammed deeper, and she moaned into Ryujin's mouth, the sound swallowed by their kiss.

"Fuck, look at them go," the man behind Ryujin said. "They're getting into it. The tomboy's tongue-fucking the dancer's mouth while I'm cock-fucking her cunt. Fucking beautiful."

"Get her to arch more," the man behind Chaeryeong added. "I want to see both holes from here. Look at those pussies—they're so stretched you can see the cocks moving inside."

Chaeryeong arched. She couldn't help it. Ryujin's mouth had moved to her jaw, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below her ear, and the sensation—combined with the relentless pounding in her cunt—was building something inside her, something hot and urgent that she couldn't suppress.

"R-Ryujin," she gasped, "I'm—ahn!—I'm getting close, I can't—"

"Let go," Ryujin murmured against her skin, and the words were almost a mirror of what the man had said to her earlier, but different. So different. Because this was Ryujin. Her member. Her friend. "Let go, Chae. I've got you. Just come."

And Chaeryeong did. Her orgasm crashed through her with a force that made her vision white out, her cunt clamping down on the cock inside her so hard that the man grunted in surprise. Her fingers dug into Ryujin's shoulders, her mouth found Ryujin's again, and she screamed into the kiss as wave after wave of pleasure-pain rolled through her body.

The man fucking her felt the spasms and groaned. "Shit, she's coming. I'm gonna fill her up—"

"Wait." The sound booth man's voice cut across the stage, amplified by a handheld microphone he'd produced from somewhere. "Don't come inside the dancer yet. I want to see them both gaped first. Pull out and finish on their asses."

The two men obeyed with visible reluctance, their cocks emerging from the girls' cunts with twin wet pops. Chaeryeong's pussy gaped immediately—an open, dripping void that showed the shadow of her inner walls—and Ryujin's was the same, her hole stretched into a dark, inviting cavern.

"Good girls," the sound booth man said, his voice echoing from the speakers. "Now stroke yourselves. I want to see cum all over those pretty ass cheeks."

The men jerked themselves off with quick, practiced strokes, their cocks shining with the girls' mixed juices. When they came, it was almost in unison—twin ropes of hot cum splattering across Ryujin's ass and Chaeryeong's, painting the bruised skin white, dripping down the creases of their thighs.

The men stepped back, spent. But before Ryujin or Chaeryeong could move, could even breathe, new hands were on them—more men, fresh and eager, their cocks already hard.

"No rest," one of them said, slapping Ryujin's cum-coated ass. "Roll over. Both of you. We're not done yet."

Ryujin caught Chaeryeong's eye one more time. That shared look—exhausted, terrified, but somehow anchored by the ghost of the kiss they'd shared—was all they had before the next wave of men descended.

In the center of the stage, the five men had Yeji and Lia suspended in the air.

Yeji was being held by the muscle-bound man and the twin, her body stretched between them as the sound booth man stepped forward, his thick fingers flexing. His hand—broad across the knuckles, corded with veins—hovered over her exposed cunt, and Yeji could feel the heat radiating from his skin.

"Please," she whispered. She was the leader. She was supposed to be strong. But right now, suspended and spread and staring at the fist that was about to enter her, she felt very, very small. "Please, I can't—I've already—"

"Already what? Already been fucked in the ass? Already come half a dozen times?" The sound booth man smiled, and it was almost kind. "That was just the warm-up, Yeji-ssi. This is the main event."

He brought his hand down to her pussy and pressed two fingers inside. She was so wet—still so wet, despite everything, her body a traitor—that they slid in easily, her walls parting with a soft, wet squelch.

"See? You're ready for me. Your cunt is begging for it."

"Fuck you," she spat, but the words had no teeth. She was crying again, tears spilling over her cheeks and dripping onto the stage floor far below.

"That's the spirit." He added a third finger. Then a fourth. Yeji's breath caught in her throat, her hips trying to pull away, but the men holding her kept her spread and vulnerable.

Four fingers, and he wasn't stopping. His thumb folded inward, and she felt the widest part of his knuckles pressing against her opening. The stretch was immense—a burning, tearing sensation that made her vision swim—and she heard herself make a sound, a high, keening whimper that didn't sound human.

"Nnngggh—fuh-fuck, it's—you're—I can't—"

"You can." He pushed, slowly, steadily, and then—with a pop that she felt more than heard—his entire hand slid inside her.

Yeji screamed.

Not a whimper. Not a moan. A full-throated, desperate scream that echoed off the stage monitors and made several of the men in the crowd pause in their stroking to watch. Her cunt was stretched beyond anything she'd ever imagined, his fist a solid, heavy presence inside her, filling her so completely that she felt like she might split in half.

"Oh god," she babbled, "oh fuck, oh god, it's too much—hnnng—I can feel you in my stomach—"

"That's my knuckles pressed against your cervix." His voice was clinical, fascinated. "I can feel the little dip. The entrance to your womb. It's fluttering. Your body's trying to decide if it wants to push me out or pull me deeper."

He rotated his wrist. Yeji's scream dissolved into a gurgling, choking sob.

Beside her, Lia was suffering the same fate. The glassy-eyed man and the other twin had her suspended—her legs forced wide, her cunt exposed—and the fifth man, a tall figure with broad hands and a quiet, predatory patience, was working his fist into her with slow, deliberate care.

"Your cervix is higher than the leader's," he observed, his fingers pressing deeper. "Longer vaginal canal. Interesting. It means I can get my whole hand in without hitting the end. See?" He pushed, and Lia felt his knuckles brush against something that made her whole body jerk. "There. That's your posterior fornix. Some women call it the deep spot. Do you feel it?"

Lia couldn't answer. Words had abandoned her entirely. What came out of her mouth was a stream of nonsense syllables—ah-ah-ahn-oh-fuh-mmm—punctuated by wet, choking gasps. Her cunt was a burning ring of sensation, stretched impossibly wide around his wrist, and when he flexed his fingers inside her—curling them upward to press against her G-spot—her back arched so hard she nearly broke free of the men holding her.

"P-please," she finally managed, her voice cracking. "Please, I'm—it's—you're making me—"

"Come?" The man smiled. "That's the idea. Come on my fist, Lia-ssi. Let everyone hear you sing."

He flexed again. Curled his fingers. Pressed deep against that spot that made everything white and hot and impossible. And Lia came with a wail that tore from her throat and echoed across the outdoor venue, a sound so raw and broken and beautiful that the men around them actually paused to listen.

Her cunt clamped down on his fist with rhythmic, pulsing contractions, trying to expel him and pulling him deeper at the same time. Fluid gushed around his wrist—clear and copious—spraying onto his forearm and the stage floor below. Her squirt was different from Yuna's creamy ejaculate; it was thinner, wetter, and it kept coming, soaking everything in a three-foot radius.

"Holy shit, she's a squirter too," someone in the crowd breathed. "All five of them are fucking squirters."

"She sings and she squirts. Main vocalist talent right there."

The glassy-eyed man holding Lia's upper body leaned down and licked the sweat from her temple. "Good girl. Now let's see if we can make you do it again."

He was still fisting her. Still flexing. Lia's orgasm hadn't even finished before the next one started building, and she felt her mind start to fracture along lines she hadn't known existed. Her eyes rolled back. Her tongue—that long, agile tongue—lolled out of her mouth, dripping saliva onto her chin.

"Nnnnggghh—ahn—ah—ah—no more—hnng—I can't—"

"You can," the man fisting her said, almost gently. "You're doing so well. Just a few more."

Beside her, Yeji was in a similar state. The sound booth man had started moving his fist—not thrusting, because there wasn't room for that, but rotating, flexing, pressing against every sensitive spot inside her until she was a writhing, sobbing mess.

"Come for me again, leader," he murmured, and his free hand found her clit, pinching it between thumb and forefinger. "Come on my fist like the good little toilet-whore you are."

The combination—the fist stretching her cunt, the fingers pinching her clit, the word toilet-whore settling into her psyche like a brand—sent Yeji spiraling into an orgasm so intense that she blacked out for a moment. Her vision went gray, then black, and when it cleared, she was still suspended, still gaped, still coming, her body a thing that belonged to someone else entirely.

When she finally stopped convulsing, the sound booth man slowly—so slowly—withdrew his hand from her cunt. The sensation of it sliding out, the way her walls clung to him and then released, made her whimper. When his fist finally popped free, her pussy didn't close. It yawned open, a gaping cavern that showed the pink, glistening walls inside, the shadowed ring of her cervix visible deep within.

"Beautiful," the sound booth man said, holding up his drenched hand. "Absolutely beautiful. Now…" He looked over at the men holding Lia. "Are you done with the main vocalist?"

The tall man withdrew his fist from Lia's cunt with a wet, sucking sound. Her hole gaped just as wide as Yeji's—a dark, open void that dripped a steady stream of her juices. Her face was a mask of tears and drool and the remnants of the feces she'd been forced to eat earlier, but her eyes—her eyes were glazed with the same hollow submission that Yuna's had shown.

"Good," the sound booth man said, looking at both gaped idols. "Now put them down. On their knees. Facing the crowd."

The men lowered Yeji and Lia to the stage, and their legs gave out instantly. They crumpled onto their knees, side by side, their gaping cunts leaking onto the stage floor. Through the fog of exhaustion and overstimulation, Yeji looked up and saw the crowd—dozens of men, maybe more, their faces a blur of hunger and satisfaction—and then she saw Yuna.

The maknae was in the middle of a group of men at the front of the stage, still on her hands and knees. But now she had a cock in her mouth and another in her cunt—both at the same time, the men fucking her from both ends with a rhythm that made her small body rock back and forth. Her eyes were half-lidded, her cheeks flushed, and she was moaning around the shaft in her mouth with an enthusiasm that made Yeji's stomach turn.

"Yuna," Yeji croaked, but her voice was too quiet, too broken. The maknae didn't hear.

Lia heard, though. She looked at the leader, then followed her gaze to Yuna. And when she saw the expression on the youngest member's face—the glazed contentment, the desperate hunger, the way her hips were pushing back to meet every thrust—Lia felt something inside her crack.

"She's gone," Lia whispered. "She's not Yuna anymore."

"She is," Yeji said, but her voice was uncertain. "She has to be."

But watching Yuna take those two cocks—watching her throat bulge with the one in her mouth, watching her cunt stretch around the one in her pussy—Yeji wasn't sure anymore. Because Yuna had stopped crying. Her tears had dried, leaving salty tracks through the cum on her cheeks. And the sounds she was making—the eager mmphs and gurgles around the cock in her throat, the wet shluk-shluk-shluk of her cunt being pounded—weren't sounds of pain anymore.

They were sounds of pleasure.

When the man in her mouth pulled out and came across her face—painting her with fresh ropes of cum that joined the layers already there—Yuna opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, catching what she could. And when the man in her cunt finished a moment later, pumping his load deep inside her gaping hole, she moaned and pushed back into him, milking every last drop.

"Thank you," Yuna whispered, and the words carried across the sudden silence of the watching crowd. "Thank you for using me."

The men around her laughed and cheered. Someone patted her head. Someone else spanked her cum-coated ass, leaving a fresh red handprint on the already-bruised skin.

And in that moment, Yeji felt the last shred of her hope crumble. Because Yuna wasn't just broken. Yuna was transformed. Whatever the men had done to her—whatever combination of physical stimulation and psychological destruction—it had rewired something deep inside the maknae's brain. She wasn't a victim anymore. She was a willing participant. A slut. A whore. And she was looking at the men around her with an eagerness that bordered on worship.

"More," Yuna said, her voice stronger now. "Please. I need more. Fill my ass too. I want all my holes full."

The men didn't need to be asked twice.

As fresh cocks descended on Yuna's waiting body, Yeji closed her eyes. She couldn't watch. She couldn't bear to see the maknae she'd protected, the baby of the group, transformed into this needy, hungry creature.

But even with her eyes closed, she could hear. The wet shlurp of a cock entering Yuna's ass. The muffled mmph of her mouth being filled again. The slap-slap-slap of skin against skin. And underneath it all, Yuna's voice—moaning, begging, praising the men who were using her.

"Fuck me, yes, harder, I'm your whore, I'm your slut, use my holes, fill me up, I want to be so full, I need your cum, please, please—"

Lia was crying again. Yeji could hear that too—the soft, hitching sobs of the main vocalist beside her. And somewhere behind them, Ryujin and Chaeryeong were still being passed between men, their kisses interrupted by fresh cocks, their gaping cunts being filled and emptied and filled again.

The sound booth man knelt in front of Yeji and lifted her chin with one finger. "See?" he said, his voice almost gentle. "Your maknae figured it out. It's so much easier when you stop fighting. When you let yourself enjoy it."

"I'll never enjoy it," Yeji hissed, but her voice shook.

The man smiled. It wasn't a cruel smile. That was what made it worse. It was understanding. Patient. As if he knew something she didn't.

"We'll see, leader-nim. We've got all night. And there are still so many Midzys waiting for their turn."

He stood up and gestured to the crowd, and dozens of fresh men began pushing toward the stage, their eyes fixed on the five ruined idols with a hunger that showed no signs of being sated.

The August sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and red and purple. But on the stage, under the harsh white lights, the only colors were the red of handprints, the white of cum, and the endless, endless pink of used and gaping holes.

And somewhere in the middle of it all, Yuna—the maknae of ITZY, the girl who'd been a virgin just hours ago—was laughing. A high, bright sound that cut through the grunts and moans and slapping flesh.

"More," she called out, her voice carrying over the chaos. "Who's next? I've still got holes to fill."

The sound booth man surveyed the stage with the satisfaction of a conductor before a symphony. His microphone hung loose in his grip as he walked a slow circle around the five ruined idols, his footsteps echoing through the speakers still wired to his voice. The crowd had grown—more men pushing through the outdoor venue's security checkpoints, some of them still wearing their Midzy light sticks around their wrists like battle trophies. The August heat had broken slightly, the setting sun casting long shadows across the stage, but the air remained thick with sweat and semen and the metallic tang of blood from Yuna's torn hymen.

"Midzy!" the sound booth man called out, his voice booming across the open space. The men in the crowd roared back, a wall of noise that made the stage monitors vibrate. "Our five favorite whores are looking a little tired. A little worn out. I think we need to—" he paused, letting the anticipation build, "—rearrange them."

He snapped his fingers. The men who'd been holding Yeji and Lia dragged them to the center of the stage, dropping them onto their knees. Ryujin and Chaeryeong were hauled over next, their limbs loose and uncoordinated, their gaping cunts still leaking onto the stage floor. And Yuna—Yuna crawled over on her own, her movements eager despite the trembling in her arms, her eyes bright with that new, hungry light that made Yeji's stomach clench with despair.

"Arranged," the sound booth man directed, gesturing with his microphone, "in a circle. On your hands and knees. Head to cunt, like the pretty little daisy chain you're going to be."

Yeji's head snapped up. "What—"

A hand on the back of her skull forced her back down. "You heard him. Circle up, leader. You're going to learn to multitask."

The five women were positioned like points on a star. Yeji found herself pushed onto her hands and knees, her face inches from Lia's exposed cunt—that stretched, gaping hole still glistening with the juices of her last forced orgasm. Behind her, she could feel warm breath on her own pussy, someone's face being positioned at her rear. Her stomach lurched when she realized who it must be. The circle was complete: Yeji facing Lia's cunt, Lia facing Chaeryeong's cunt, Chaeryeong facing Yuna's cunt, Yuna facing Ryujin's cunt, and Ryujin—poor, defiant Ryujin, who'd sworn she wouldn't break—facing Yeji's plugged, piss-filled, utterly violated holes.

"Oh god," Ryujin breathed from behind Yeji, her voice cracked and raw. "Oh fuck, Yeji, your ass—it's—the fabric is—"

"I know," Yeji choked out. "I know what it looks like. Just—don't look at it."

"I can't not look at it. It's right there. Your hole is—"

"Ryujin." Yeji's voice sharpened, a ghost of her old authority surfacing. "Please."

A moment of silence. Then Ryujin's voice, softer now: "Okay, unnie. Okay."

The sound booth man walked the perimeter of their circle, his footsteps deliberate, his shadow falling across them one by one. "Here's how this works," he announced, his voice carrying to the crowd as much as to the women. "Each of you is going to eat the cunt in front of you. Tongue, lips, the whole show. Meanwhile, there will be a cock in your mouth and another in your pussy. And when those cocks finish, they get replaced. Understood?"

No one answered. The silence stretched, broken only by the distant rumble of the crowd and the wet, sloppy sounds of Yuna's cunt—still being fingered by the man who'd positioned her—as she squirmed in place.

"I said, understood?" The sound booth man's voice cracked like a whip.

A chorus of broken, defeated murmurs. "Yes." "Yes." "I understand." "Please, just—" "Yes."

"Good girls." He gestured to the men waiting at the edges of the stage. "Begin."

Yeji's face was pressed into Lia's cunt before she could brace herself. A hand on the back of her head, fingers tangled in her sweat-matted hair, shoving her mouth against the gaping, dripping folds of her groupmate's pussy. The scent was overwhelming—musk and cum and the faint, acrid undertone of urine from earlier—but underneath it all was something else. Something sweet. Something that made Yeji's tongue flick out instinctively, tasting before she could stop herself.

Lia's hips jerked. A broken moan vibrated through her body, transmitted through the chain of women. "Ahn—Y-Yeji—your tongue—"

"Mmmph," was all Yeji could manage. The hand on her head pressed harder, and her nose buried itself in Lia's trimmed pubic hair, her mouth sealed over the other woman's entrance. She could feel the stretched rim of Lia's cunt against her lips, could taste the mix of old cum and fresh arousal that coated the inner walls. And when her tongue pressed inside—sliding into that gaped, unresisting hole—Lia screamed.

Not a scream of pain. A scream of pleasure, raw and desperate, that made the men around them laugh and cheer.

"Fuck, the main vocalist is getting her cunt eaten by the leader! Look at Yeji's tongue go—she's done this before, hasn't she?"

Yeji hadn't. But her body seemed to know what to do anyway. Her tongue explored the contours of Lia's pussy with a hunger that shocked her, tracing the stretched walls, dipping into the deeper recesses, curling upward to press against the slightly rough patch of her G-spot. Lia's flavor bloomed on her tongue—salty, musky, with a subtle sweetness that made her mouth water despite everything. The flesh was soft and giving under her lips, the inner walls still fluttering from the earlier fisting, and when Yeji sealed her mouth over the opening and sucked—

Lia's whole body convulsed. "Ohhh, f-fuck, Yeji, your mouth—hnnng—I can't—it's so—"

"Less talking, more eating," the sound booth man snapped at Lia. "You've got Chaeryeong's cunt right in front of you. Get to work."

From the corner of her eye, Yeji saw Lia lower her head. Then she heard Chaeryeong's sharp intake of breath, followed by a wavering, whimpering moan that told her Lia had begun. The chain was activating, each woman servicing the one in front of her, their bodies linked in a circle of forced pleasure.

A cock pressed against Yeji's lips. She hadn't even seen the man approach—had been too focused on the taste of Lia, on the way the main vocalist's inner walls fluttered against her tongue—but now the blunt head was pushing at the corner of her mouth, smearing precum across her cheek.

"Open up, leader. You can eat pussy and suck cock at the same time. I believe in you."

Yeji's jaw opened. She didn't think about it. Didn't decide. Her body simply obeyed, her lips parting to accept the shaft that slid across her tongue. The taste was familiar now—salt and skin and something faintly bitter—and her throat relaxed, letting him push deeper, letting him feel the back of her mouth.

"Gllrk," she choked, her tongue still buried in Lia's cunt. The sensation of having her mouth filled while her face was pressed into another woman's pussy was dizzying, confusing. She couldn't breathe through her nose—Lia's folds were too tight against her nostrils—so she had to time her breaths with the man's thrusts, gasping for air when he pulled back, holding it when he pushed deep.

Behind her, Ryujin's mouth was on her ass. She could feel it—the tentative, trembling press of lips against her stretched rim, the soft curl of a tongue tracing the edge of the fabric plug. Ryujin had pulled it out, she realized. Her asshole was now an open, gaping void, and Ryujin's tongue was inside it.

"Mmnngh," Yeji moaned around the cock in her throat. The sensation was indescribable—wet heat lapping at her stretched sphincter, probing the darkness inside, cleaning away the traces of urine that had leaked out. And when Ryujin's tongue pushed deeper, sliding past the first ring of muscle and into the burning cavern beyond, Yeji felt her cunt clench on nothing.

She was getting wet again. After everything. After the fisting and the ass-fucking and the piss-plug. Her body was still responding, still producing fresh arousal that dripped down her thighs and onto the stage floor. The man behind her—positioned at her cunt while Ryujin's tongue explored her ass—noticed immediately.

"Fuck, she's soaking. Look at this." He ran the head of his cock through her folds, coating himself in her slick. "Your leader really is a slut, isn't she? Getting eaten out by her own member while she eats out another one. And her cunt is dripping like a faucet."

Yeji couldn't argue. Her mouth was full of cock and pussy, her throat working to swallow the steady flow of precum leaking from the shaft stretching her lips. Her tongue continued its work on Lia's cunt—lapping at the entrance, dipping inside, curling to press against that spot that made Lia's hips buck—and she could feel the main vocalist's body responding, feel the way her walls clenched and fluttered, feel the approaching orgasm in the way her muscles tensed.

"I'm—I'm close," Lia gasped, her voice muffled by Chaeryeong's cunt. "Yeji, your tongue—hnnng—I'm gonna—"

"Don't you dare stop eating," the sound booth man barked at Lia. "You come when I say you come. Keep that mouth working."

Lia sobbed, but her tongue kept moving. Chaeryeong was moaning now, a steady stream of "ah-ah-ahn-oh-fuh" that told Yeji the dancer was being driven toward her own peak. And somewhere in the chain, Yuna's voice rose above the others—not moaning, not whimpering, but chanting.

"Yes, yes, yes, eat my pussy, Ryujin-unnie, yes, your tongue is so good, I'm your whore, I'm your slut, I love your mouth on my cunt—"

Yeji's heart cracked a little more. Yuna wasn't just broken anymore. Yuna was enthusiastic. And that was somehow worse than the screaming.

The cock in her mouth pulled out. Yeji gasped for air, her lips tingling, her jaw aching. But before she could catch her breath, a new cock was pressing against her face—this one longer, thinner, with a pronounced vein that pulsed against her tongue as it slid inside. She took it. Swallowed around it. Kept licking Lia's cunt.

"Ohhh, f-fuck," Lia moaned, her voice rising in pitch. Chaeryeong must have been doing something right—Lia's pussy was flooding with fresh arousal, gushing around Yeji's tongue, coating her chin and cheeks with warm, slick fluid. The taste intensified, that sweet-salty flavor blooming across her palate, and Yeji found herself—despite everything, despite the horror and the degradation—chasing it. Her tongue dove deeper, lapping at the source, drinking down Lia's juices like they were the only nourishment left in the world.

Behind her, Ryujin's tongue had been replaced. She felt the blunt pressure of a cock at her asshole—bare, no lubricant except Ryujin's saliva—and then the man was pushing inside, stretching her open again, filling the void that the piss had left behind.

"Uuungghh—" Her groan vibrated around the cock in her throat. The man in her ass moved slowly, letting her feel every inch, and the sensation of being filled from both ends—cock in her throat, cock in her ass, her pussy still empty and clenching but about to be filled by the man rubbing against her entrance—was overwhelming. Her vision started to go gray at the edges.

"Unnie," Lia gasped from somewhere above her. "Unnie, I'm—I can't—please let me come, please—"

"Permission granted," the sound booth man said lazily. "All of you. Come whenever you want. But don't you dare stop what you're doing."

Lia's orgasm hit like a thunderclap. Yeji felt it against her tongue—the sudden, violent clenching of Lia's inner walls, the gush of fluid that flooded her mouth, the way the main vocalist's whole body shuddered and bucked. Lia screamed, the sound muffled by Chaeryeong's cunt, and her hips ground against Yeji's face, riding out her climax with desperate, frantic movements.

The taste was incredible. Yeji didn't want to admit that. Didn't want to acknowledge the part of herself that was savoring this—the sweet, musky flood of Lia's cum coating her tongue, spilling down her throat, dripping from her chin. But her body knew. Her tongue kept moving, drawing out Lia's orgasm, lapping up every drop of the fluid that pulsed from her cunt.

Chaeryeong came next. Then Yuna—her scream a high, bright thing that cut through the noise of the crowd. Then Ryujin, whose orgasm was a silent, shaking thing that Yeji only knew about because she felt Ryujin's tongue falter against her asshole.

And then Yeji felt her own climax building. The cock in her pussy had started thrusting—the man who'd been waiting at her entrance finally pushing inside with a wet shluk that echoed in the small space between her thighs. He was thick. Thicker than the one in her ass. And with both holes filled, with Lia's cum still on her tongue and Ryujin's mouth still on her rim and the cock in her throat pulsing hot and heavy—

She came.

It was different from the earlier orgasms. Deeper. Slower. A wave that started in her core and rolled outward, making her toes curl and her fingers scrabble uselessly at the stage floor. Her cunt clamped down on the thick shaft inside her, her ass clenched around the thinner one, and she heard herself make a sound—a muffled, choking squeal around the cock in her throat—that didn't sound like her at all.

"Good girl," the man in her pussy groaned. "Fucking good girl. Take it all."

He pumped his load deep inside her, filling her already-saturated cunt with fresh cum. The man in her ass followed a moment later, his release hot and liquid as it flooded her bowels. And the man in her mouth—the third one, the long one with the vein—pulled back and came across her face, painting her cheeks and forehead and the bridge of her nose with thick white ropes.

Yeji knelt there, frozen, as the three men emptied themselves into and onto her. Her tongue was still buried in Lia's cunt. She could feel the main vocalist's aftershocks rippling through her walls, could taste the lingering sweetness of her cum. And when the men finally pulled away, leaving her holes gaping and dripping and utterly, utterly used, she stayed there. Kneeling. Waiting. Her mouth still pressed to Lia's pussy.

"Good leader," the sound booth man said. "Now rotate."

Rotate. The word took a moment to process. Then hands were on Yeji, pulling her away from Lia's cunt, repositioning her behind Chaeryeong. She blinked, disoriented, and found herself staring at the dancer's pussy—stretched and swollen and glistening with Lia's saliva and Chaeryeong's own arousal. Behind her, a new face was pressing into her ass, and ahead of her—

Ahead of her, Lia was now positioned at Yuna's cunt. And something in Yuna's face, something in the way she looked back at Lia with that eager, hungry light in her eyes, made Yeji's blood run cold.

"Unnie," Yuna breathed, her voice carrying across the circle. "Lia-unnie. Please. I want your tongue inside me. I need it. Please."

Lia hesitated. Yeji could see the conflict in her eyes—the horror warring with the exhaustion, the disgust battling the strange, reluctant arousal that her body kept producing. But the hesitation only lasted a second. The sound booth man made a sharp gesture with his microphone, and Lia lowered her head to Yuna's waiting cunt.

The maknae's reaction was immediate and obscene. "Ohhh, yesss, yes, Lia-unnie, your tongue is so—hnnng—so warm, I can feel it inside me—deeper, please, deeper, I want to feel you in my stomach—"

"Shut up," Lia mumbled against Yuna's folds. But the words had no force. And when her tongue pushed deeper, curling inside Yuna's stretched cunt, Yeji saw the main vocalist's shoulders relax. Saw her settle into the rhythm. Saw her start to enjoy it.

The chain continued. Chaeryeong was eating Ryujin's pussy now, her shy dancer's face buried between the tomboy's thighs, her tongue tracing the stretched rim where the fist had been. Ryujin was at Yeji's back, her mouth working on the leader's asshole with a gentleness that was almost apologetic. And Yeji—Yeji was pressing her face into Chaeryeong's cunt, tasting the dancer for the first time.

She was sweeter than Lia. Milder. Her pussy tasted like honey and salt, and her folds were plumper, softer, yielding around Yeji's tongue like overripe fruit. When Yeji pushed inside—slow, careful, remembering how sensitive Chaeryeong must be after so much abuse—the dancer let out a trembling sigh that vibrated through her whole body.

"Oh," Chaeryeong breathed. "Oh, Yeji-unnie. Your mouth."

"That's it," the sound booth man encouraged. "Let the leader take care of you, Chaeryeong-ssi. She's got a talented tongue."

Yeji's tongue was moving before she consciously decided to move it. Tracing the inner walls. Finding the roughened patch of Chaeryeong's G-spot. Pressing against it with slow, deliberate strokes that made the dancer's legs shake. She could feel Chaeryeong's pleasure as if it were her own—transmitted through the chain of women, through the way Chaeryeong's mouth moved on Ryujin, through the way Ryujin's tongue worked on Yeji's ass, through the entire, interconnected circuit of their bodies.

The men didn't wait this time. Fresh cocks were already approaching—one for Yeji's mouth, one for her cunt, one for her ass. She took them without hesitation. Her body was a thing that belonged to them now. A vessel. A series of holes. And as the first cock slid into her throat—thick, uncut, leaking salt—she closed her eyes and let herself become exactly what they wanted.

"Look at them," the sound booth man's voice boomed over the speakers. "Five perfect idols. Five perfect sluts. Look at how they eat each other's cunts. Look at how they take cock in every hole. This is what ITZY was made for, Midzy. Not singing. Not dancing. This."

The crowd roared. The men on stage thrust harder, faster, their grunts blending with the wet sounds of fucking and the muffled moans of the women. Yeji could hear everything—the shluk-shluk of Chaeryeong's cunt around her tongue, the glrk-glrk of her own throat around the cock, the slap-slap of flesh against flesh, the obscene squelch of cum and arousal mixing and dripping. It was a symphony of degradation, and she was the conductor.

Or maybe she was just another instrument. She'd stopped being sure.

Chaeryeong was close. Yeji could feel it in the way her walls fluttered, in the way her hips pushed back against Yeji's face, in the way her moans rose in pitch until they were almost screams. The dancer was grinding on her tongue now, fucking herself on Yeji's mouth with desperate, uncoordinated movements that spoke of a need beyond reason.

"Unnie," Chaeryeong gasped, "unnie, I'm—ahn!—I'm gonna—hnnng—"

Yeji sealed her mouth over Chaeryeong's clit and sucked.

The dancer's orgasm was a violent, full-body convulsion that sent ripples through the entire daisy chain. Her cunt flooded Yeji's mouth with hot, sweet fluid, and her scream—a raw, keening wail—pierced through the ambient noise of the venue. Her body bucked and thrashed, but the men fucking her held her steady, their cocks plunging deeper as her walls clamped down.

"Good," the sound booth man purred. "Now keep going. Everyone. I want to see all five of you come at the same time. And I want it loud."

He signaled to the men. They picked up their pace, fucking into the five women with renewed intensity—harder, faster, deeper. Yeji's throat was being used mercilessly now, the cock plunging past her gag reflex with every thrust, her esophagus bulging around the shaft. The one in her cunt was hitting her cervix with every stroke, a painful-sweet pressure that made her vision spark. And the one in her ass—a new one, thicker than the last—was stretching her rim until it burned.

But her mouth. Her mouth was still on Chaeryeong's cunt. Still licking, sucking, exploring. And when she pushed her tongue as deep as it could go, curling it upward to press against the dancer's G-spot, she felt Chaeryeong's body respond—felt the new flood of arousal, felt the muscles clench, felt the approaching orgasm.

The chain was synchronizing. Chaeryeong's mouth on Ryujin was driving the tomboy toward climax; Ryujin's tongue in Yeji's ass was making the leader's whole body tremble; Yeji's mouth on Chaeryeong was pushing the dancer closer to the edge; Lia's tongue in Yuna's cunt was making the maknae babble and squirm; and Yuna—Yuna was eating Lia's pussy with an enthusiasm that bordered on worship, her tongue sloppy and eager, her moans vibrating against the main vocalist's folds.

"Come," the sound booth man commanded. "All of you. Now."

They came.

It happened like a wave crashing through the circle, one woman triggering the next, their orgasms linked by tongue and mouth and the unbroken chain of their bodies. Yuna screamed first—that bright, unhinged sound that was becoming her signature—and then Lia was coming too, her juice flooding Yuna's face as the maknae's tongue continued to lap at her spasming cunt. Chaeryeong's climax hit a heartbeat later, her pussy clamping down on Yeji's tongue with rhythmic contractions that pulsed against her lips. Ryujin's was silent—just a full-body shudder and a gush of wetness that soaked Yeji's ass and dripped down the back of her thighs.

And Yeji. Yeji's orgasm was the biggest yet. Bigger than the fisting. Bigger than the ass-fucking. It felt like her entire body was dissolving, every nerve ending firing at once, her cunt and ass and throat all clenching around the cocks filling them. Her squirt gushed around the shaft in her pussy, spraying onto the stage floor and the man's balls and Ryujin's face still pressed to her rim. And her scream—muffled by the cock in her mouth—was a raw, broken thing that tore out of her chest and didn't stop until she was empty.

The men came too. Yeji felt them pulsing inside her—cock in her throat spraying cum directly into her stomach, cock in her cunt pumping hot seed against her cervix, cock in her ass flooding her bowels with warm liquid that mixed with the remnants of the earlier piss. She was being filled from three directions at once, her body a vessel for their pleasure, her holes overflowing with their combined release.

The cock in her mouth pulled out. The one in her cunt followed. The one in her ass lingered—giving a few final, lazy thrusts—before he too withdrew. And Yeji collapsed forward, her face landing in the puddle of cum and squirt that had accumulated beneath Chaeryeong's cunt.

She didn't move. Couldn't move. Her body was a ruined, trembling thing, her holes gaping and dripping, her mind floating somewhere above her, watching from a distance. Through the fog, she heard the sound booth man's voice.

"Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Midzy, give it up for your idols!"

The crowd went wild. Cheers and whistles and the slapping of hands against the stage barricades. Yeji closed her eyes and let the noise wash over her, her cheek pressed to the wet floor, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

But they weren't done. They were never done.

"Now then," the sound booth man said, his voice dropping to a more intimate register, "I think it's time we filled these pretty little whores up properly. Don't you agree?"

More cheers. More hungry faces pushing toward the stage. And Yeji felt hands on her again—lifting her, repositioning her—and she heard the sound booth man's final command, the one that made even Yuna pause in her eager squirming.

"Fill them up. Every hole. I want to see cum dripping from all five of them at the same time. And when they're full—" his voice hardened, "—we start the bukkake."

The sound booth man's command hung in the August air like a promise.

"Fill them up. Every hole."

Yeji barely registered the words. Her cheek was still pressed to the wet stage floor, her body a constellation of aches and gapes, her mind floating somewhere that wasn't quite inside her skull anymore. But her body—her traitor body, the one that had come more times than she could count—responded to the command with a fresh pulse of heat between her thighs.

Hands lifted her. Repositioned her. Someone rolled her onto her back, and she stared up at the darkening sky, the first stars beginning to pierce through the purple haze of sunset. The stage lights were harsh and white, turning everything into stark relief—the sweat on the men's faces, the cum dripping from the stage monitors, the five women arranged in a loose semicircle like offerings on an altar.

Lia was beside her. Then Chaeryeong. Ryujin. Yuna. All five of them on their backs, legs spread, holes exposed. The earlier daisy chain had left them wrecked—their cunts gaping, their assholes stretched, their faces smeared with a mixture of their own juices and the cum of the men who'd used their mouths. But the men weren't done. The crowd wasn't done. The sound booth man stood at the edge of the stage, his microphone raised, conducting the chaos like a maestro.

"Three in each," he announced. "Mouth, cunt, and ass. I want to see them overflowing."

The men descended.

Yeji's mouth was filled first. A thick, uncut cock pushed past her lips before she could even take a breath, the head bumping the back of her throat with a wet glrk. She gagged, but the reflex was weak now—her throat had been fucked so many times it had given up on protesting. The man grabbed her hair and held her head steady, his hips pumping with short, sharp thrusts that made her eyes water.

Then her cunt. A second man—the muscle-bound one from earlier, his chest still straining against his sweat-soaked shirt—lined himself up and pushed inside in one brutal stroke. Her walls stretched around him, still loose from the fisting, still dripping with the cum of the men who'd come before. Shluk-shluk-shluk went the sound of his entry, her pussy making obscene wet noises that echoed off the stage monitors.

And her ass. The third man was the thickest yet—someone new, someone she hadn't seen before, with a cock that was more width than length and a head that flared wide like a mushroom. He didn't bother with lube. Her gaping asshole was still slick with the cum and piss from earlier, and when he pushed inside—slow, deliberate, letting her feel every inch of the stretch—Yeji's scream vibrated around the cock in her throat.

"Uuunnngghh—"

"Fuck, she's tight here," the man in her ass groaned. "Even after everything. Her asshole is gripping me like a fist."

Beside her, the other members were being filled in the same configuration. Lia had a cock in her mouth and another in her cunt, but the man who'd been positioned at her ass was hesitating—her hole was still smeared with the brown residue of her earlier toilet training, and he was laughing, calling her a dirty shit-whore, telling her he'd fuck her ass anyway. When he pushed in, Lia's body arched off the stage floor, and the scream that tore from her throat was muffled by the shaft stretching her lips.

Chaeryeong was crying. Silent tears streamed down her temples and into her hair, but her mouth was full and her cunt was full and her ass was full, and her body—that lithe dancer's body that had spent years perfecting every movement—was rocking with the rhythm of the three cocks pumping into her, her hips rising to meet every thrust. She'd stopped fighting. They all had. Even Ryujin, whose defiance had been the last to crumble, was now lying limp and accepting, her eyes half-lidded, her mouth working mechanically around the cock plunging past her lips.

And Yuna. Yuna was the loudest. Her moans were a constant, eager stream of "yes-yes-yes" and "more-more-more," her hips bucking to meet the thrusts in her cunt and ass, her tongue swirling around the shaft in her mouth with an enthusiasm that made the men around her groan. The maknae had transformed completely—from victim to willing participant, from idol to whore—and the sound of her pleasure was somehow the most horrifying thing Yeji had ever heard.

"Good girls," the sound booth man crooned over the speakers. "Take it all. Every drop. I want to see cum leaking from all five of you at the same time."

The men were close. Yeji could feel it in the way the cock in her throat pulsed, in the way the one in her cunt started to lose his rhythm, in the way the one in her ass gripped her hips harder and slammed deeper. The pressure was building inside her—not an orgasm, not yet, but something else. A fullness. A stretching sensation that bordered on pain. Three cocks filling her three holes, and all of them about to release.

"Come in them," the sound booth man commanded. "Now."

The man in her mouth came first. Hot, bitter cum flooded her throat, and she swallowed instinctively—her body trained now, her throat working to gulp down every pulse. The man in her cunt followed a heartbeat later, his release a hot gush that she felt splashing against her cervix, filling the stretched space inside her. And the man in her ass—he groaned, a low, animal sound, and pumped his load deep into her bowels, the warmth spreading through her lower belly like a brand.

All three pulled out. And Yeji's body, now just a vessel for their seed, did what it had been trained to do.

She farted.

The sound was wet and spluttering, a mixture of cum and air and the residual piss from earlier. Her asshole, still gaping from the thick cock, spasmed and expelled a gush of white liquid that splattered onto the stage floor between her spread thighs. The sensation was mortifying—her body betraying her in yet another way, her holes no longer under her control—and the men around her laughed.

"Fuck, did you hear that? The leader just farted cum!"

"She's so full she can't hold it in. Look at her pussy—it's leaking too."

Yeji's cunt was doing the same thing. Without a cock to plug it, the reservoir of semen inside her was spilling out, a thick white river that dripped over her perineum and pooled beneath her ass. She clenched, trying to stop it, but her muscles were too tired, too stretched, and the clenching only pushed more out. Splurt. A gush of liquid. Splortch. Another one, mixed with her own creamy ejaculate.

Lia was in the same state. Her cunt was leaking a steady stream of cum, and when she shifted her weight, a wet fart escaped her ass—prrrrp—spraying the stage floor with white droplets. Chaeryeong's farts were quieter, almost demure, little pfft-pfft-pfft sounds that accompanied each gush of semen from her ruined holes. Ryujin's were louder, almost defiant, her body expelling the cum with a series of wet, spluttering sounds that made her face burn with humiliation.

And Yuna—Yuna was laughing. Giggling, even, as her body farted and splurted the mixture of cum and squirt onto the floor. "It feels so weird," she gasped, her voice bright and breathless. "It's so warm coming out. I can't stop it. Look, look at how much there is—"

The stage floor beneath them was a mess. Puddles of white and clear liquid spread across the surface, reflecting the harsh stage lights. The smell was overwhelming—musk and salt and the faint, acrid undertone of urine—and the men in the crowd were leaning forward, their phones raised, recording everything.

"Beautiful," the sound booth man said, his voice almost reverent. "Absolutely beautiful. But we're not done yet. Midzy—" he raised his microphone, "—it's time for the finale."

The crowd roared. And from the edges of the stage, men began to gather.

Twenty. Thirty. Maybe more. They formed a loose semicircle around the five women, their cocks already out, already hard, already stroking. The sound of it was a dull, rhythmic shlick-shlick-shlick that filled the air like a heartbeat. Yeji stared up at the sea of faces—some familiar, some new, all of them hungry—and felt the last shred of her dignity shrivel and die.

"On your knees," the sound booth man commanded. "All of you. Facing the crowd. Mouths open. Tongues out."

The five women obeyed. They crawled into position, their bodies trembling with exhaustion, their holes still leaking, their faces turned up toward the wall of men. Yeji found herself between Lia and Chaeryeong, their shoulders brushing, their breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. She opened her mouth. Stuck out her tongue. Tasted the remnants of cum and pussy and piss that coated her palate.

The men stroked faster. The sound booth man raised his microphone.

"Midzy—give your idols a proper tribute."

The first rope of cum hit Yeji across the forehead. Thick and hot, it dripped down the bridge of her nose and into her open mouth. She swallowed, the taste familiar now, almost comforting. Then another rope—this one on her cheek, splattering against her cheekbone and running down toward her jaw. Then another. And another. And another.

The air filled with cum. It was a deluge, a storm, an endless cascade of white that came from every direction. The men were coming in waves, their groans blending into a chorus of release, their seed painting the five women's faces and hair and necks and tits. Yeji's vision blurred as cum coated her eyelashes. Her mouth filled with it—hot, salty, bitter—and she swallowed, swallowed, swallowed, her throat working mechanically to keep up with the flood.

Beside her, Lia was being drenched. Her face was a mask of white, her long hair matted with ropes of semen, her lips glistening as she licked the cum from them. Chaeryeong's eyes were closed, her mouth open, her tongue extended to catch the streams that splattered across her face. Ryujin was crying again—silent tears that cut tracks through the cum—but her mouth was open too, and she was swallowing, her throat working with each new load.

Yuna was in ecstasy. She'd turned her face up to the men like a flower seeking sunlight, her eyes bright with something that looked almost like worship. "Thank you," she was saying between gulps. "Thank you for your cum. Thank you for feeding me. I'm your whore. I'm your toilet. I'm your cumbucket. Thank you, thank you, thank you—"

The bukkake lasted for what felt like hours. In reality, it was probably only minutes—the time it took for twenty or thirty men to stroke themselves to completion, their release adding to the layers of white that coated the five idols. By the time the last man finished, the women were unrecognizable. Their faces were hidden beneath masks of cum. Their hair was plastered to their skulls. Their bodies—their tits and stomachs and thighs—were painted with streaks and puddles and dripping rivulets of white.

The crowd was silent for a moment, awed by the sight. Then someone started clapping. Someone else cheered. And then the whole venue was roaring, a wall of noise that shook the stage monitors and made the lights flicker.

The sound booth man stepped forward, his microphone raised. "Midzy! I think our idols have something to say to you. Don't you?" He looked down at Yeji, his eyes glinting. "Leader-nim? Would you like to say a few words?"

Yeji's mind was a fog. Her body was a ruin. But somewhere deep inside her, the performer—the idol, the leader of ITZY—stirred. She'd spent years training for this. Not this. Not the degradation. But the performance. The ability to smile through exhaustion, to speak through pain, to give the audience what they wanted.

She turned to face the crowd. The cum was thick on her lips, dripping from her chin. She could feel it in her mouth, coating her tongue, sliding down her throat. She swallowed.

And then she smiled.

"P-p-please," she began, her voice cracking, then steadying. She swallowed again, felt the cum slide down her throat, felt the warmth of it in her stomach. "Please keep on s-supporting us. Midzy."

She paused. The crowd was silent, hanging on her every word. Beside her, the other members were stirring—Lia lifting her head, Chaeryeong wiping cum from her eyes, Ryujin's shoulders squaring, Yuna's face breaking into a bright, cum-smeared grin.

"Please," Yeji continued, her voice growing stronger, "keep an eye on our latest and newest mini album."

She took a breath. The cum on her lips tasted like salt and victory.

"Motto."

The crowd erupted. Cheers and whistles and the thunder of feet stomping on the venue floor. Yeji held her smile, her body still trembling, her holes still leaking, her face still dripping with the seed of thirty men. Beside her, Lia was laughing—a broken, disbelieving sound—and Chaeryeong was crying again, but smiling through it. Ryujin had her arm around Yuna, pulling the maknae close, and Yuna—Yuna was waving at the crowd, her cum-coated face bright with joy.

The five members of ITZY knelt on the stage, their bodies painted with cum, their holes gaping and dripping, their smiles fixed and bright. The August night had fallen completely now, the stars hidden behind the glare of the stage lights. The crowd was still cheering. The phones were still recording. And somewhere, in the back of Yeji's mind, a small voice whispered that this was just the beginning.

The sound booth man raised his microphone one last time.

"Midzy! Give it up for ITZY—the sluttiest, filthiest, most obedient idols in the industry!"

The crowd's roar was deafening. And the five women, still on their knees, still dripping, still smiling, bowed their heads in acknowledgment.

The fanmeet was over. But as for the show, Yeji knew, it was only the beginning.

KAZUHA

With Kazuha, you ate. At least, until the moment you let yourself be consumed.

“Are you ready?,” Kazuha whispered, looking down across her torso. She wrapped her shins around your neck, pulling you closer as she locked them together. Already the sight made you hard, seeing the muscular curvatures form shadows in the dim light.

You grinned before leaving a slow, drawn-out drag of your tongue through her folds and right to her clit. “Of course I’m ready.” Kazuha let out a trembling sigh, grabbing your hair with both hands and pulled you in.

Jaguars are no laughingstock of the jungle: their bites have evolved to pierce the thick hides of thicker-skinned animals, their limbs powerful enough to lock them in place while they do.

You, on the other hand, held Kazuha’s thighs with force. They wrapped under and around the well-endowed muscle of her legs and ass – and for a woman like Kazuha, to hold her in her entirety was a feat.

So you lapped into her folds, licking up and up again as fast as you could. Kazuha held you tightly by the hair, wanting you to go deeper, harder – if such a thing was doable by your tongue alone.

“Anh, yes, just like that,” she gasped, thrusting her entire hip into your face and dragging all her fluids over you from nosebridge to chin. You could feel it pool and dry up at those spots, and feel them wet again as she let out ounces and ounces of slick onto you.

And you licked as hard as you could, sucking her pussy into your mouth, trapping it there purely by your vacuuming, and licking her clit.

“You’re so fucking good,” you hissed, before spitting into her already drenched folds. Strings of it spilled onto your cheeks, the pungent smell of your thirsty breath clinging to your face; it mattered little as you felt her fluids cake the same spots.

“You’re so fucking good, holy shit,” Kazuha gasped. One hand let go of your head, then the other, as she started grasping her chest. Though her breasts weren’t enough to fill her long, slender fingers, she still groped them with enough force, enough desperation you could see the skin redden as skin scraped against skin.

You let up for a second, allowing Kazuha some space to breathe. She breathed heavily as you planted kisses on the inner sides of her thighs, already streaked with the saltiness of spit from your mouth and sweat from the sides of your head. What little hair follicles remained stood up in bumps that dragged against your lips; all in all, the perfect sensory intermission for the both of you.

As you kept at it, her thighs loosened their grasp on your neck; you pulled her hips down ever gently, locking her into place, and inched closer once again into her folds. You knelt against the bed, planting her harder into the mattress and shoving your tongue deeper into her folds. You felt the taste of it sharpen and burn against your tender mouth muscle. You swore you could taste iron; even if you weren’t sure, you still pushed in, eyes closed in bliss.

You hummed as you dug deeper into her with your tongue. You scooped up into her walls, letting the obscene mixture inside her drip into your mouth. And drink you did gratuitously, as Kazuha’s formerly quiet breathing strained against the pillow she held to her mouth.

“You close, baby?,” you smiled, locking your eyes into hers. In that moment, as she paused her moaning and having absorbed all the pleasure, she smiled with renewed fire in her eyes.

For the record, in case you were mistaken, you were not the jaguar here.

Kazuha suddenly locked her thighs around your head, until your ears rang and your vision blurred. Her nails started pressing against your scalp; you found yourself catching your breath, or trying in between small centimeters of breathing space you fought for against Kazuha’s grip.

You fucking loved it, and gurgled into her sopping lips. Each bubble of frothy spit spread easily between your cheeks and hers, squelching as you rubbed your face aggressively into her.

“Fucking love that, huh?,” Kazuha laughed, the domina leaving her chest as shooking your head and face left and right, no other thought than her oral-induced orgasm.

“Fuck,” she whispered your name, “I’m so close, just like that–”

You pushed into her, trying to get her climax to happen (and free you from her ironclad grasp), but she howled while she held you still and choked. The only way out was through, and you licked, even when the only thing that could move was the top of your tongue. Each graze of it against her swollen bud made her yelp; her whole body trembled as you did, simultaneously chasing after and fighting against her collapse.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming, ohh fuck!,” Kazuha whined, feeling her thighs and hips tremble at the touch of your tongue. The ringing around your ears fuzzed up your vision; there was only one thing you could sense left, and it was Kazuha, all of her.

“Cuhm,” you muffled into her, taking a deep breath and sucking her clit one last time, until the rigid surface of your tongue could graze all of her clit. One last tight grope of your scalp was the only signal you needed.

Kazuha let go of you as she raised her hip in the air sharply, everything in her trembling. It was like she was possessed, overcome by some primal spirit in her that urged her to groan with every twitch. Your head lay close to the bed, watching drops of her release drip onto the towel you set earlier and onto your cheeks and nose. You lapped them as they streaked down into your mouth, oozing out of her hole in a stream.

Slowly Kazuha came back down to your grasp, and you greeted her with a flurry of kisses around the inside of her thighs and her drenched, spunky pussy lips. Even then, with every cold contact of lips on squirt, she twitched until your chin dripped as much as she did.

She pulled you by the hair, pained as it was, to greet her lips with yours. She licked your face clean, tasting the fluid concoction of spit and squirt shared between your mouths. You savored every salty, tangy, sharp note; she did too, licking her lips with pride all over it.

“You’re so… so good at that,” Kazuha grinned, nuzzling her sweaty head onto your equally sweaty neck.

“Of course,” you sighed, running your hand along her long, still silky hair. “I love the taste of you.”

RUKA

With Ruka, you were fed, taking all of her in a single go – or rather, you were devoured all at once.

“Are you ready?,” Ruka giggled, looking down as she hovered over you. Her knees shuffled closer to your temples, while her hands ran up her waist and up her neck. Honestly, just watching her with her body made you twitch, but it was your anticipation that made you hard.

You craned your neck up to meet her clit before it fell upon you, and Ruka let out a pleased sigh. “Of course I’m ready,” you smirked.

In one go, Ruka dropped herself on you, not gently but with actual force. Your head and her entire body bounced against the creaking of your bed, and though you laughed with the slightest adrenaline rush ready to push her off, she caught your wrists and trapped them under her knees.

You pushed hard with your neck, your arms, even your torso, but Ruka smothered your face with her folds. With each thrust of her hips against the ridges of your head came heaves of ecstasy. She rode hard, even if slow, and each drag literally cut off your breath as she went over the entirety of your nose and mouth.

“Mmph, so fuckim goob,” you mumbled, sucking her folds in and forcing the tender tip of her clit out and onto your tongue. Your tongue scooped past it, tasting the sharper, warmer fluids inside her coat the top and bottom of the tip of your tongue.

In response, Ruka pulled your hair up and sank your face deeper into her – as if pulling you up could send you any deeper into her.

“You’re so fucking good, f–fuck,” she gasped. She would lurch forward in jolts of pleasure that appeared like signs of letting up, but not a chance – her grip stayed tight, on your hair, your head, your hands.

Such was the hunt of a leopard: cautiously waiting for her prey, then grabbing you and pulling you in. She hissed, clawed, squeezed you and wrung you of whatever sex you could spare into your tongue and your tongue alone, and fed on you just as much as you fed on her. Only thing missing was a tree branch she could hang you on and gobble your cock on, but that’s a kink for another time.

You bent your head up to breathe, the only way you could force Ruka to give you a chance to; she at least gave you that. She’d pet your hair, wipe stray trails of your fluid cocktail away – or across – your nose. She knew you loved her smell, and you never complained.

In turn, you did the one thing Ruka couldn’t: pull her closer to you as she grew sensitive. Though her thighs remained plastered to your face, it was by your firm grasp that she had nowhere else to take her arousal other than your mouth. And even when she begged you to slow down, perhaps to savor each bump and ridge grazing against her clit, you clearly wanted the opposite – to feel her drip and squirt all over you until it glazed your cheeks.

“Are you close, baby?,” you gasped, sinking your lips into her folds again, tongue pushed deep into her warmth. Ruka let out an obscene, guttural grunt, coupled with a laugh of shock – and these were not signs of goodwill.

“Oho, I’m gonna fucking cum all over your smug fucking face,” she taunted, all curves on her face slicing into you like guillotines.

In for the kill, Ruka let you go. She turned around, ass above your eyes and whole shins on your whole forearms, and sat back on you. The waft of the funkier-than-usual air meant nothing when your tongue was now buried deeper inside her. You kept at it, tongue swirling in slow, strained circles, because it was the only thing you could do in her clawed grasp.

Ruka, on the other hand, made you want to bury yourself deeper, not that you didn’t already, but motivating you to keep going. She held you by the sides with clawed fingers, the dread of the ticklish sensation one has from getting poked keeping you on edge. You felt beads of sweat and spit – only differentiated by viscosity – drip onto your chest, and trail closer to your erect cock as she hovered right over it, . You wrung your hands free and clung to her ankles; it did nothing to slow her.

“That’s it, yeah,” she laughed, riding your face with gusto. Her thighs clamped on your ears. You were basically in darkness darker than the dark room, eclipsed by her firm ass and drenched pussy turning your face into her perfect little ribbed toy.

You tightened your grip, even bringing them up and grabbing the whole meat of her thigh from below. Her hands snaked to her asscheeks, sliding down into your hair and pulling you in tighter. At this point she may have fully absorbed you into her with each newton coursed through your strained follicles – and you weren’t complaining.

“Hah, hah, fuck,” Ruka heaved, confident chuckles slowly undoing into deeper moans. Each groan turned into a yelp, every other yelp turned into a howl, and the slow-but-hard grinding became the fast-and-frantic frenzy you craved. Your nosebridge and your lips ceased to be anything beyond the topological features with which Ruka’s cunt craved the stimulation of pressure.

And like a pair of jaws closing in, her legs raised her torso with its own strength, the muscle flexing and squeezing your ears to your skull.

All that was left – the lone thing that could be done – was to beg her to sink into you.

“Cuhm,” you blubbered into her with a guttural groan. With one last burst of energy, you freed your hands and climbed up against her thighs, pulling yourself to meet her sopping wet folds as they trembled with the full twitching of her lower half.

Ruka flicked her clit about as she rode out her orgasm with your face, the stimulation forcing out a light sprinkling of her squirt – a rarity for moments of extreme arousal, only ever climaxing in this manner by your own hand. Yet every droplet on your forehead, your tongue, your cheeks was undeniably hers.

Ruka fell to the side with a creaky thud on the bed, the beast in her satiated and ready to digest. She giggled as she stared at you, also on your back and drenched in more than sweat.

“You’re so good at this,” she sighed, her smile softening from thrill to wonder.

“Of course,” you sighed, reaching out for her hand to rub it gently. “I love the taste of you.”

KAZUHA + RUKA

Don’t get it mixed up: jaguars and leopards are very different big cats. Jaguars hunt, leopards ambush, both . Kazuha and Ruka made that distinction evidently clear. But when clad in black, they’re both black panthers – and like their feline analogues, they attack together.

“Think he’s ready?,” Kazuha smirked, petting your head between her womb and Ruka’s, moaning as Ruka’s fingertip grazed gently against her clit still enclosed in her black panties.

“Of course he is,” Ruka exhaled excitedly, already moist and aroused as you planted kiss after kiss on the fabric. She pushed your face into what was the smooth surface of her pubis, trapping your nose and halting your breath; when she let go and you gasped for air, the pair giggled.

“What was that?,” Kazuha taunted, turning your head towards her hips – equally smooth, equally hot, equally aroused – and pushed you in deep. You could count every second she intended to keep you in: three seconds, five seconds, ten. You groaned as you struggled, but it only made them chase after your tongue harder.

Ruka ran a hand up Kazuha’s abdomen, her pointer finger tracing its toned ridges; merely watching her nail depress against the paper thin layer of fat against her curves almost had you dizzy from the blood rushing to your cock. To watch Kazuha do the same with her fingertips across Ruka’s abdomen had you frenzied, desperate. You shoved a hand into your boxers; Ruka skillfully pulled the garter of your shorts down between her toes, forcing your barbaric display of arousal into public view.

Kazuha pressed your dick onto your groin and away from your hands. “You’ll have your turn, baby,” she teased, and you clenched your fists against your thighs in submission. There were no words necessary from your mouth – your tongue, lips, and breath belonged elsewhere.

You gently worked the cloths away from their cores, peeling them off to the sting of evaporating arousal against your nose. You knew, from the first time they asked you to do exactly this – eat them out together instead of individually – that the anticipation and the spectacle was what they wanted. Not of your face drenched in their liquids – in reality, it was the fingers on abs and clits, the passing around of your head, bearing witness to the other undone.

You went for Ruka first, sucking her pussy hard and flicking her clit with the tip of your tongue from left to right; she ran a hand into your hair, grabbing hard and thrusting her hips into your face, like an actual proper facefucking. Kazuha giggle as she watched, her fingers tauntingly brushing around your earlobe and down the ridge behind your jaw. The traced line made you shudder.

“F-fuck, he’s s-so good at this,” Ruka gasped, eyes shut as she craned her neck up. Kazuha leaned in and left light, smackless kisses, only working to elevate Ruka’s arousal.

You paused to catch your breath, looking over at Kazuha’s folds, glistening with her arousal. You could have caught yourself, mouth wide open and silently begging, but a light slap her way cut your arousal-fueled haze short.

“I’ll have my turn too, baby,” Kazuha chuckled, rubbing the spot she patted you on, before shoving your head back into Ruka. Ruka yelped the moment you crashed into her.

Again you lapped at Ruka, the flavor of her coating the inside of your cheeks. She hollered and buckled as you licked up against her clit, already straining your tongue but fully focused on savoring more and more of her.

Then Ruka pushed you off, and shoved you into Kazuha, shocking her with a short laugh.

“Hah, you’re not… gonna make me cum that… quickly, baby,” Ruka leaned over and whispered into your hair. “Fucking eat her out. I know you wanted her so bad.”

“Y-yes,” you and Kazuha groaned together, prompting the two ladies to laugh. You wrapped your arms around Kazuha’s thick flexed thighs, feeling the muscle tense and pulse as you used your bottom lip to pinch her clit. Looking up, you watched them as they admired each other’s dainty, well-nestled breasts, hands straying over arms and abs, groping asses and tits in handfuls. You were dizzy as your cock pulsed in yearning excitement.

Kazuha’s normally sly smile had relaxed agape. It was now Ruka who licked and held her head in one hand and yours in another, pleased as Kazuha bit her lip to subdue her high-pitched squeals of climax.

“F-fuck, s-so– keep doing that,” Kazuha gasped, looking down at your with desperate eyes. She hummed as her yelps turned breathier and heavier, as if struggling to hold it all back.

“You’re so hot,” Ruka scratched your head, “I love watching you eat her out.” She looked at Kazuha. “And you look so hot when you’re ready to cum.”

“Mmmh!,” Kazuha pressed her lips together, hurriedly pushing you away and into Ruka. She trembled aggressively, her face contorted, pained from the aggressive denial. She looked at Ruka for a full heartbeat, and sank her lips into hers, and the way her hands grabbed Ruka’s face gave away the exact state of mind she was in. You took it upon yourself to meet Ruka as well, digging into her with your mouth, hands wrapped around her legs tightly.

Ruka moaned into Kazuha’s mouth as hands shifted places: Kazuha grabbed Ruka’s breast with one and pulled her in with another, while Ruka had a hand past you and on Kazuha’s clit, the other pulling you in. As earlier, the tides shifted with you joining Kazuha to work Ruka, the way you joined Ruka earlier.

The taste in your mouth was now an entirely different mixture, a unique flavor that can only be had in your unique situation: the liquid nectar of two very horny, very beautiful ladies desperate for a muscle that wasn’t your cock, mixing together with the copious salivation of your own hunger.

“Sh-shit,” groaned Ruka, legs now trembling. She began to crouch, allowing you to dig deeper into her core, tasting the same sharp taste from the smooth, slimy flesh inside her. She pulled on your head with both hands, barely managing to use her concentration to hold her grasp on you as her barriers collapsed.

“Wahn youhr cuhm,” you mumbled. “Wahn bohf of you–,” you let go of her, “want both of you to cum on me, please.”

Moans turned into giggles in a snap.

Kazuha pulled you in, Ruka fingering her and herself, as you made full licks, from root to tip of your tongue, against Kazuha’s swollen core. It was starting to drip on your shoulder and down her thighs, but you kept at it. Kazuha’s squealing returned once again, her legs trembling just as hard, and with one final grip of her thighs, she shook violently. You felt the thick, creamy liquid ooze out slowly, lapping as much as you could and swallowing it all, before shifting to Ruka.

With Ruka, Kazuha focused more on stopping herself, slapping her own pussy lips more aggressively, trying her best not to collapse too quickly. With all your focus, you grabbed Ruka again, already very wet and howling, rubbing your entire face, nose and all, against her lips. She jolted hard – once, then twice – before letting out one last, heavy groan that strained against her throat.

And finally, the end of the frenzy.

The two grabbed your hair with one hand each, the other aggressively swiping their fingers against their reddened lips. They locked their upper lips while they did, moaning all manner of high-pitched profanities into each other, not so much kissing but syncing their shared climax together. You excitedly waited for it all, still half-sitting on the floor and stroking your very erect cock with all the spit and goop that had dripped onto your groin. And, for good, entertaining measure, you stuck your tongue out.

Kazuha and Ruka squirted all over your face, the liquid stinging as it splashed onto your cheeks, your tongue, your lips, and all over your chest. They moaned one after the other in symphony, roaring at the intense overstimulation they brought themselves to. Their fingers were coated in a cloudy white that you wished to yourself they’d shove into your mouth, and they did without you needing to ask. You swallowed it all, feeling the minuscule dollops fill your gut.

The liquid orgasm, the erotic feast you partook in kept you stroking, bucking your hips forward, your face contorting like they would as they hungered over your cum. They knelt down to your level as they caught their breath, hands wandering all over you as you jerked yourself off to your climax.

“Cum for us,” Ruka begged, hands slippery with your shared liquids.

“We want it,” Kazuha smiled, licking her lips for your arousal. You knew what was coming, and they knew it too.

You spurted all over your hands, squelching in between your fingers. The two were quick to share your hand, tasting your own release – and theirs – all over their own tongues. You watched them savor it with glee, humming and giggling, as you laid down in exhaustion, breathing in while you still could.

The girls looked at each other, not pleased, but excited.

“Ready?,” Kazuha taunted you, lying down on her stomach, mouth now just a breath away from your still drenched cock.

“Feeding time,” Ruka grinned, grabbing your base gently.

Don’t forget: you were never the predator here. You were always going to be their prey.