Yejin's hands, gripping my throat, twitch slightly. This is the longest she's ever choked me.
In this ever-extending record, I look up at Yejin through a vision so blurry I can barely make out her shape.
…Isn't it time to let go?
Surely… Yejin doesn't want to kill me. No, damn it, if she has a job, she shouldn't kill anyone. No one should kill anyone.
And choking someone… leads to suffocation. Wasn't she choking me to feel the power of holding my life in her hands?
If all this isn't about her sadistic pleasure but because she genuinely wants to kill me this time?
"Kek… Kek…"
As if delivering a final blow, Yejin's body weight presses harder into her grip. My consciousness slips away.
This feels different from everything I've endured so far. The sensation of being choked fades, and my mind grows hazy.
My darkening vision starts turning white, like a photo burning—blackening at first, then turning to white ash. My vision narrows in the same way.
Am I really going to die like this? I don't want to die like this. This is a truly pathetic death. Human dignity, male pride—none of that matters anymore! I just want to live.
"This is as far as you go."
Yejin releases her grip.
"Do that one more time, and you're really dead."
+
"If you pull that kind of stunt one more time, you're really going to die."
Yejin, straddling me, glares down as she speaks. Once again, I see a glint in her dark eyes, like something burning with madness.
Is it just my imagination, or does that fiery gleam in her pitch-black gaze look like insanity illuminating the darkness? My head's too foggy to think straight, probably from being forced to hold my breath and then gasp for air repeatedly.
Maybe it's because I only just escaped the threat of suffocation. My brain's screaming that it's not getting enough oxygen.
I'm at my limit. Please, stop.
My instincts are yelling that if she keeps choking me like this, something in my brain might actually break.
It feels like everything around me is burning to ash, turning into a barren white wasteland. Is my brain, deprived of oxygen, transforming from a vibrant, moist organ into something dry and brittle, ready to crumble at the slightest touch?
I need oxygen.
My entire body is screaming for it. Even though she's not choking me now, air flows through my mouth and nose. It's like stumbling upon an oasis after wandering a waterless desert. I don't care if there's a venomous snake lurking in the water or a pack of ferocious lions nearby—I just want to plunge my face in and drink.
And… for a fleeting moment, I feel a twinge of gratitude toward Yejin for giving me this oasis called oxygen.
"If you ever defy me like that again, it won't be fun for you."
Still straddling me, Yejin leans down and whispers into my ear. To prove her words aren't empty, she presses her thumb and index finger lightly against my carotid artery.
I don't want to be hit anymore. I don't want to be choked. I don't want to feel that sensation of my brain burning to white ash ever again.
It's terrifying—like I might forget who I am or where I came from.
So this is what it feels like to die by strangulation.
It's knowledge I never wanted to gain in my lifetime. Yejin stares down at me with eyes like those of a dead fish, cold and lifeless. The intense fire in her dark pupils seems to have burned out, sinking into an abyss, leaving only emptiness behind.
Her hand, which had been touching my throat, moves downward. Slowly, her neatly trimmed index finger traces over my Adam's apple, collarbone, chest, solar plexus, and stomach.
Her cold, slender finger continues past my navel, heading toward a crucial part of my body—my crotch.
It doesn't even feel like a human hand. Instinctively, I flinch, unsure of what she's about to do.
Her upper body, perched on my thighs, sways slightly but steadies itself.
"…?"
Yejin shoots me a look, as if asking what I'm doing. Her finger, which had been heading toward my dick, reverses course. It moves back up, past my pelvis, stopping at my navel.
She presses her finger into my soft stomach, poking it repeatedly, lost in thought. Then, she starts drawing invisible circles on my skin, as if marking territory with an unseen marker.
The constant poking and circling tickles. I recall someone once saying that laughter from being tickled is one of the hardest sensations to suppress.
The tickling feels out of place in this terrifying atmosphere, and I can't help but let a laugh slip out. I bite my lip to stifle it, but my stomach keeps trembling.
Giggle… My stomach shakes up and down. Seeing this, Yejin quietly clenches her fist and drives it precisely into the spot she'd been circling.
Thud!
Her fist lands like a punch to a sandbag, short and heavy. It's a different kind of pain from being choked—I can't breathe properly.
"Ugh…!"
I try to curl up instinctively, but with Yejin sitting on me, I can't even lift my upper body, let alone curl into a ball.
I try to shield my exposed stomach with my arms, but both of my hands are already pinned under her knees. All I can manage is a weak, deflated sound, like air leaking from a balloon. I can't form proper words.
My head spins, and I can't breathe. I really feel like I'm going to die.
"I told you not to resist."
She slams her fist into my stomach again. I manage to lift my head just enough to see a dark bruise forming where she hit me.
The capillaries in my stomach must have burst. I don't know much about medicine, but I know the stomach houses vital organs. And if one of those organs ruptures, it's a serious threat to my life. But Yejin, whether she knows this basic fact or not, drives her fist into my stomach again.
"Guh…!"
This time, it's my side, just below my ribs.
The pain is dizzying, like I'm really going to die. I want to twist my body, but pinned under her, I can't move. I want to cover my stomach with my hands, but they're trapped under her knees.
All I can do is watch as bruises bloom across my pale stomach, like blue paint splattered on a canvas.
Yejin raises her fist again. I know I can't escape, but my body flinches reflexively, causing her weight to shift forward slightly.
Her soft pubic hair brushes against the tip of my dick. Instinctively, she looks down and sees my rock-hard erection poking at her pubic hair, ready to burst.
"Pretty lively, huh? You like this kind of thing?"
"No… nobody… likes this…"
"You don't like it?"
"I… like it…"
The pain in my stomach makes it impossible to speak properly.
In a pathetic, slurred voice, I try to appease her. If I say I don't like it, I might actually die.
"You sure seem to. Look at how hard you are."
Yejin grabs my dick with her thumb and index finger, stroking it up and down. They say human libido peaks when survival is threatened.
My dick, having endured choking and gut punches, is more threatened than ever. It's ready to spread my genes to another woman, even if it means my death.
Desperate to pass on my DNA before I die, my dick is fully erect, poking at Yejin's pubic hair.
"So don't go around smelling like semen in front of others."
Her cold fingers wrap around my twitching dick, stroking it rapidly up and down. A wet squelch fills the room, and I feel the white semen rising slowly through the base of my dick.
"Ugh…"
Honestly, after all the torment Yejin's put me through, I don't want to cum like this. But… her hand feels too good.
She seems to know exactly how to stroke, where to apply pressure, to make me cum. She grips my dick tightly with her thumb and middle finger, pumping it from the base up, while her index finger teases the tip of my urethra, urging me to release.
I don't want this. I hate the idea of cumming for a woman like her… but I can't help it.
My hands and feet curl involuntarily, and my body tenses. I feel the white semen rising like hot magma through my dick.
I'm… cumming… why…?