City ​​of Witches 107

## Chapter 107 – #23_The Price Of Loss (6)

#105

1.
Humans are terribly ugly and insignificant beings.

In the era of the great famine, when more than half the village was starving to death, the ditches were filled with corpses who had collapsed from exhaustion after digging up and eating grass roots. People caught and ate the crows that came to pick at the corpses.
After even the wild animals were gone, they prayed to God for forgiveness as they gnawed on the bones and flesh of their own families.

A girl, barely a child, was sold to a pimp for half a basket of potatoes, and she learned the harshness of the world at a young age.
When she was put on display in a cage, collared, before gentlemen who pretended to be refined, she cursed everything in the world.

She wanted to burn it all down.
She wanted to distort the parents who had pushed her into suffering, the slave traders, and the world.
She prayed to a demon, not God.

What appeared before Eha, just before her flower was about to be plucked under a filthy, old body, was not a demon.
It was the previous Sadalmelik, who introduced herself as a witch.
Sadalmelik, who turned the old man who was trying to pin down and rape the struggling Eha into a puddle of blood, reached out her hand.

That overwhelming power was enough to fascinate Eha, who was shuddering with helplessness.
As she learned magic with her teacher and traveled the world, Eha finally realized.

That she was ‘chosen.’
Unlike the base humans, she was a ruler who was allowed to live eternally and reign over them.
To Eha, humans were no different from insects.

Especially the males.
They would leer at her body with lecherous eyes just by passing by, and they were such inferior beings that they would willingly follow her to a hotel, just from making eye contact.
Luring men who didn’t even foresee their own deaths into her bedroom and enjoying their screams was one of Eha’s hobbies.

-Thwack! Thwack!

“Ohhk…! Huk…! Ung… Ungit…!”

Aea was on all fours, like a dog, taking Siwoo’s cock.
Her fiercely gleaming red eyes were clouded with the light of pleasure.

아래로 매달린 가슴은 자지가 박히는 박자에 맞춰 앞뒤로 출렁이고 반쯤 튀어나온 선홍빛 혓바닥 위로 거친 숨이 매끄럽게 구른다.
The old woman’s face, weathered like a gnarled tree, was a roadmap of wrinkles. Each line seemed to tell a story of hardship and resilience, a testament to a life lived under the harsh sun and unforgiving winds. Her eyes, though clouded with age, still held a spark of something fierce, something that hinted at the fire that once burned bright within her. She sat hunched over a small wooden table, her hands, gnarled and twisted like the roots of an ancient tree, moving with surprising dexterity as she worked on a piece of embroidery. The needle danced in and out of the fabric, each stitch a tiny act of defiance against the relentless march of time.

The room was small and sparsely furnished, the walls bare except for a few faded photographs and a calendar that was several years out of date. A single window looked out onto a narrow alleyway, where stray cats prowled and the sounds of the city drifted in like a distant, muffled roar. The air was thick with the scent of dried herbs and old paper, a comforting aroma that had permeated the room for decades.

A young girl, no older than seven, sat on a small stool at the old woman’s feet, her eyes wide with fascination as she watched the needle move. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her clothes were patched and worn, but her face was bright and full of life. She was a stark contrast to the old woman, a symbol of youth and vitality in a room that seemed to be slowly fading into the past.

“Grandma,” the girl said, her voice a soft whisper, “what are you making?”

The old woman paused, her needle hovering in mid-air. She looked down at the girl, a faint smile playing on her lips. “I’m making a flower,” she said, her voice raspy but gentle. “A flower that will never fade.”

The girl’s eyes widened even further. “A flower that will never fade?” she repeated, her voice filled with wonder. “Is that even possible?”

The old woman chuckled, a dry, rattling sound that seemed to come from deep within her chest. “Anything is possible, child,” she said. “If you believe in it enough.”

She resumed her work, her needle moving with renewed purpose. The girl watched in silence, her imagination taking flight. She imagined a world where flowers never faded, where the sun always shone, and where the old woman’s stories never ended.

The day I turned twenty, I received a strange gift.

It was a small, old-fashioned music box. The kind you’d see in a dusty antique shop, with a slightly tarnished brass finish and a delicate, hand-painted floral pattern. It wasn’t the sort of thing I’d ever buy for myself, but it was undeniably beautiful.

The sender was unknown. There was no card, no return address, just the music box wrapped in plain brown paper. I turned it over in my hands, a strange sense of curiosity mixed with unease.

I opened the lid. A soft, tinkling melody filled the room, a tune I didn’t recognize but found strangely comforting. As the music played, a small, intricately carved wooden ballerina began to spin. Her movements were graceful, almost hypnotic.

I watched her dance, lost in the music, until the melody faded and the ballerina stilled. I closed the lid, the image of her graceful movements lingering in my mind.

I didn’t know it then, but that music box was about to change my life in ways I could never have imagined.

Siwoo roughly explored Aea’s body.

에아의 배꼽까지 닿을 기세로 거세게 찔러대는 움직임에서는 자궁에 씨를 뿌리겠다는 진득한 집념만이 느껴졌다.
“Ock…cook…hoong…!”

Whose is this unsightly voice?

Ea, realizing once again that the aimless voice leaking from her pursed lips was her own, bit down on her lips.

“Uhm…! Uhm…! Um…!”

At first, it was just pain.
It felt like her body was being split in two every time the hot, fiery pillar pierced between her legs and moved back and forth.
In that pain, Ea was determined.
She gritted her teeth and endured the agony, vowing that this humiliating time was only temporary, and that she would repay them until they shed tears of blood remembering this day.

“Stop…! Stop…! Just… just a moment… hic… let me… rest…!”

The humble honorifics disappeared, and Ea’s true feelings burst out.
That was how desperate she was for a break.
His upward-curving member was stabbing deep into the space behind her cervix.

He was in pain too.
The feeling of his sensitive area being repeatedly attacked made him feel nauseous.

However, about 30 minutes passed.

As Siwoo relentlessly pounded into Aea’s pussy, threatening to tear it to shreds, she began to release increasingly desperate moans of pleasure. She was completely helpless, crying out in a pathetic, feminine voice.

“I… I’m a woman…! Treat me… a little more… gently…!”

Whether she had any right to say such a thing was beside the point; it was a line that the original Aea would never have uttered.

Regardless of whether she’s a man or a woman, Aea is a witch.

Everyone should look up to and revere me as a solemn being.

How dare a mere human.

To think you’d pin me down like this.

How dare a mere human.

To try and spray filthy fluids into the sacred womb.

How dare a mere human.
To make me utter such a vulgar voice.

Ea ground her teeth, trying to glare at him with a fierce look, but…

“Uhn… uhn… Ooh… Ok…!”

The old woman’s face, wrinkled like a dried persimmon, was a map of a life lived. Her eyes, though clouded with age, still held a spark of mischief. She sat on the low wooden stool, her back slightly hunched, and meticulously peeled garlic. The sharp, pungent aroma filled the small kitchen, mingling with the scent of simmering kimchi.

“Aigoo, this old back,” she muttered, her voice raspy like dry leaves rustling in the wind. “It’s not what it used to be.”

I watched her from the doorway, leaning against the frame. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air. It was a scene I had witnessed countless times, yet it always held a certain comfort.

“Grandma,” I said, my voice soft.

She looked up, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Ah, you’re here. Did you finish your homework?”

“Yes,” I replied, stepping into the kitchen. “Can I help you?”

She chuckled, a dry, rattling sound. “You? You’ll just get in the way. Go play.”

I knew she didn’t mean it. It was her way of showing affection, a gruff tenderness that I had come to cherish. I sat down on the floor beside her, watching her nimble fingers work. The garlic cloves, once whole and firm, were now reduced to thin, translucent slices.

“Grandma,” I said again, this time more hesitantly. “Do you ever think about… the past?”

Her hands paused for a moment, her gaze drifting towards the small window. The sunlight caught the silver strands in her hair, making them shimmer like spun silk.

“The past,” she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. “It’s a heavy thing, child. Like a stone you carry in your heart.”

She resumed her work, the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board filling the silence. I waited, knowing she would continue when she was ready.

“There are things I remember,” she said finally, her voice low and distant. “Things that make me laugh, and things that make me cry. But mostly, I remember the people. The ones I loved, the ones I lost.”

She looked at me then, her eyes filled with a sadness that seemed to reach back through the years. “Life is like that, child. A tapestry woven with joy and sorrow. You must cherish the good moments, and learn from the bad.”

I nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat. I knew she was talking about more than just the past. She was talking about life, about the things that truly mattered.

“I will, Grandma,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “I promise.”

She smiled then, a small, gentle smile that reached her eyes. “Good,” she said. “Now, go play. And don’t forget to wash your hands before dinner.”

I stood up, feeling a sense of peace settle over me. The kitchen, with its familiar smells and sounds, felt like a safe haven. And my grandmother, with her wrinkled face and wise words, was the anchor that held me steady.

The old woman’s face, wrinkled like a dried persimmon, was a map of a life lived. Her eyes, though clouded with age, still held a spark of mischief. She sat on the low stool, her back slightly hunched, and meticulously peeled garlic. The sharp, pungent aroma filled the small kitchen, mingling with the scent of simmering kimchi.

“Aigoo, this old back,” she muttered, her voice raspy like dry leaves rustling in the wind. “It’s getting harder every day to do even this simple thing.”

I watched her from the doorway, leaning against the frame. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the floor, painting the room in hues of gold and amber. It was a scene I had witnessed countless times, yet it always held a certain charm.

“Grandma,” I said, my voice soft, “do you need help?”

She looked up, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled. “No, no, my dear. You go on and do your studies. This old woman can still manage a few cloves of garlic.”

I knew she wouldn’t accept my help, not unless she was absolutely desperate. She was a stubborn woman, proud of her independence. It was a trait I both admired and found frustrating.

“Okay,” I said, pushing myself off the doorframe. “But if you need anything, just call.”

“Alright, alright,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “Now go on, before you get distracted by this old woman’s ramblings.”

I chuckled and retreated to my room, the scent of garlic and kimchi clinging to my clothes. The old woman’s presence was a constant in my life, a comforting anchor in the midst of the chaos. I knew that one day, she wouldn’t be here anymore, and the thought filled me with a deep, unsettling sadness. But for now, I would cherish every moment, every shared meal, every story she told.

오금이 바짝바짝 조여들고 질벽이 꿈틀거리며 한껏 자지를 쥐어짠다.
질퍽질퍽하게 변한 보지에서 흐른 한 줄기의 애액은 쫑긋 발기해 있는 클리토리스에 맺혀있다가 툭툭 떨어졌다.
300년간 굶주렸던 보지를 거칠게 개통하는 그의 거근은 그녀의 안에 내재하여 있던 암컷의 면모를 강제로 개화했다.
The wind was blowing.

It was a wind that carried the scent of the sea.

I was sitting on a bench, staring blankly at the sea.

The waves crashed against the shore, and the seagulls cried out.

I was alone.

I had always been alone.

I had no family, no friends, no one.

I was just a lonely soul, wandering through life.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

The salty air filled my lungs.

I opened my eyes again and looked at the sea.

The sun was setting, painting the sky with hues of orange and purple.

It was a beautiful sight.

But even the beauty of the sunset couldn’t fill the emptiness in my heart.

I sighed and stood up.

I had to go.

I had nowhere to go, but I couldn’t stay here any longer.

I started walking, not knowing where I was going.

I just walked.

And walked.

And walked.

Until I reached a small town.

The town was quiet and peaceful.

The houses were small and cozy.

The people were friendly and kind.

I had never seen a place like this before.

I felt a strange sense of peace wash over me.

Maybe, just maybe, I could find a home here.

I walked into the town square and sat down on a bench.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

The air was fresh and clean.

I opened my eyes again and looked around.

The town was beautiful.

I smiled.

For the first time in a long time, I felt a glimmer of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, I could finally be happy.

I feel good.
I can’t deny it.
I feel so good that I can’t suppress my body’s reflexes, so good that my head turns white.
And that very fact was in sharp conflict with Aea’s pride.

“Huh…?”

Then, Aea felt something like a spark spreading inside her belly.

The amount was truly minuscule, but it was a rich and pure magic. It was a pristine purity that a witch who had plundered the magic of other brands, like Aea, could not feel.

The old man’s face was a roadmap of wrinkles, each line a testament to a life lived under the relentless sun. His eyes, though clouded with age, still held a spark of mischief, like embers glowing beneath ash. He sat on the porch, a worn wooden chair creaking beneath his weight, and watched the world go by. The village was quiet, the only sounds the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant crowing of a rooster. He took a long drag from his pipe, the smoke curling into the air like a lazy serpent.

“Another day,” he muttered to himself, his voice raspy like dry leaves. “Another day the world keeps turning.”

He chuckled, a dry, rattling sound. He had seen so many days, so many seasons come and go. He had seen the village grow from a small cluster of huts to a bustling community. He had seen children born and grow old, their faces mirroring his own. He had seen love blossom and wither, joy and sorrow dance hand in hand.

He had seen it all, and yet, he still found wonder in the simple things. The way the sunlight filtered through the leaves, the way the birds sang their morning songs, the way the wind whispered secrets through the trees.

He closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the sun seep into his bones. He was old, yes, but he was not done yet. He still had stories to tell, lessons to impart, and a life to live. He opened his eyes, a smile playing on his lips.

“Yes,” he said, his voice stronger now. “Another day.”

The magic, extending straight from the pussy, passes directly through the narrow cervix.

It spread through my fallopian tubes and all the way to my ovaries, giving me an indescribable, cool sensation. It felt like cold crystals were flowing through my veins.

“Are you… listening to me?… Huk… Huk… My… my clothes… j-just… stop for a moment…!”

If sex brought hot pleasure, this was the opposite, a cold and clear pleasure.
Like currents of different temperatures meeting, the contrasting sensations created a synergistic effect, overturning Aea’s mind.

Something is coming.
Aea sensed it.
It would be a sensation she had never felt before.
And that the sensation would turn her into a helpless female.

“Stop… please… stop it! Hooo… hooook…!”

Even with Aea’s pleas, Siwoo paid no heed.
It was as if he were treating her like an object.
Aea, whose cervix was being struck at a steady rhythm, tore at the moss with the hand that was supporting her on the ground.
Her whole body felt like an octopus writhing on a hot grill.

“Uunghooooot….♡”

The moment pleasure surpasses its critical point, Aea’s back arches involuntarily.

시우의 자지를 감싼 보지는 제멋대로 정액을 쪽쪽 빨아들이려 한다.
Ea, with a vulgar cry, wallowed in the crucible of pleasure.

“Ah… ahh… ah….”

Each time the hard object bounced up and down, contracting, hot semen began to flood into Aea’s belly.

Even knowing it was the dirty seed of a man, Aea could do nothing.

“Hngh… Keuh….”

The two arms that had barely been supporting her upper body collapsed.
Ea, her beautiful bobbed hair, which she was so proud of, splayed on the dirt floor, her cheek pressed against the moss-torn ground, gasped for breath.

“Ah… ah… haa….”

I was in a daze.

The world was spinning. It felt like I was floating in the air, and my body was strangely light.

Was I dead?

No, that couldn’t be. I could still feel the faint sensation of my heart beating.

Then, what was this?

I slowly opened my eyes.

The first thing that greeted me was a familiar ceiling. It was the ceiling of my room, the one I had been staring at every day.

I blinked a few times, trying to clear my vision.

The room was exactly as I remembered it. The messy desk, the scattered books, the clothes piled up on the chair. Everything was the same.

But something was different.

I tried to move my body. My limbs felt heavy, like they were filled with lead. It was as if I had just woken up from a long, deep sleep.

I slowly sat up in bed.

My body felt strange. It was smaller than I remembered. My hands were tiny, and my legs were short.

What was going on?

I looked down at my body. I was wearing a white, frilly dress. It was a dress I had never seen before.

I touched my face. My cheeks were soft and plump. My hair was long and curly, a style I had never had.

I looked around the room again.

Everything was the same, but everything was different.

I got out of bed and walked to the mirror.

My reflection stared back at me.

It was a girl.

A young girl with big, innocent eyes and a cute, button nose.

It wasn’t me.

But it was me.

I was a child.

I was a child again.

I couldn’t understand what was happening.

How could this be?

I was definitely an adult. I had lived a long life. I had experienced so much.

But now, I was a child.

I was a child in my old room.

I was confused and scared.

I didn’t know what to do.

I sat down on the bed, my head in my hands.

I tried to think.

I tried to remember what had happened.

But my mind was blank.

It was as if my memories were fading away.

I couldn’t remember how I had gotten here.

I couldn’t remember why I was a child again.

I was lost.

I was alone.

I was scared.

I didn’t know what to do.

I just sat there, staring at the floor.

Then, I heard a knock on the door.

“Young Miss, are you awake?” a gentle voice called out.

Young Miss?

Who were they talking to?

I looked around the room.

There was no one else here.

“Young Miss?” the voice called out again.

It was then that I realized.

They were talking to me.

I was the Young Miss.

I slowly got up and walked to the door.

I opened it.

A woman stood there, smiling kindly at me.

She was an older woman, with a warm and gentle face.

She was wearing a maid’s uniform.

“Young Miss, are you feeling alright?” she asked.

I didn’t know what to say.

I just stared at her, my eyes wide with confusion.

“Young Miss?” she said again, her voice filled with concern.

I finally managed to speak.

“Who… who are you?” I asked, my voice small and shaky.

The woman smiled.

“I am your maid, Lily,” she said. “Have you forgotten me, Young Miss?”

My maid?

I had a maid?

This was all so strange.

“I… I don’t remember,” I said.

Lily’s smile faded.

“Oh dear,” she said. “Perhaps you are still feeling unwell. Please, come downstairs. Breakfast is ready.”

She took my hand and led me out of the room.

I followed her, my mind still reeling.

I was a child again.

I had a maid.

And I didn’t know what was going on.

워낙에 좁디좁은 보지였기 때문인지 시우의 물건과 그녀의 점막이 맞닿은 틈새로 뚝뚝 하얀 정액이 흘렀다.
Only then did the revived humiliation make Aea’s body tremble, but there was nothing she could do anyway.

“Is it… over now…?”

Even so, she had satisfied the predator.
Ea cautiously looked back.

“Huh…?”

At that moment, Aea felt something slipping out through the juncture of her genitals.
Something undulating and moving, taking advantage of the languid afterglow of intercourse.
The magic power, which had been barely there, was being sucked back out through her penis.

And at the same time, Aea could sense it.
Drawn out like a fish hooked by a fishing line, by the magic power that had been greedily scraping at Aea’s womb.
Realizing what it was, Aea hurriedly focused her mind.

She closed her eyes and concentrated her consciousness, making contact with Ain.
A space of thoughts where all sorts of structures were chaotically mixed.
More than 50% of the original structures had disappeared, likely due to being plundered by the cocoon of reincarnation.
She knew it in her head, but seeing it with her own eyes was different.

“Kuh…!”

Even amidst the shock, Ehea frantically tried to grasp what was happening right now.

“What is….”

Ehea saw it.
A massive structure in the form of a loom.
An anomaly had occurred in the space where the ‘Maiden’s Loom’ was placed.
There was a distortion.
A concave, dish-shaped distortion, like a sinkhole that sucked everything in, was slowly pulling the loom in.

“Stop!”

Ehea rushed towards the Maiden’s Loom, gesturing wildly.
Her magical asset, as precious as her life, was disappearing somewhere.

Like a building collapsing into a suddenly formed sinkhole, the massive loom shattered into pieces, sucked into a long funnel beneath the dish, and vanished.
It was a sight unbelievable even to the eyes.

“Kyaaaaak! My, my loom…!”

Ehea had done it before.
To plunder the magical assets of others.
But back then, Ehea had extracted wombs or used forceful means.
To take away only one magic without taking the caster’s life, and without affecting other female magic, was something she had never heard of or seen.

Ehea’s consciousness, which had been blank, snapped back to reality as if rebounding.

“N-no way…!”

Coming to her senses, Siwoo was moving his waist again.
She hadn’t grasped the exact cause and effect.

But I intuitively realize.

That all of this started with sex, and that if things get any weirder, I’ll lose even more.

-Squish squish squish!

The day I turned twenty, I received a strange gift.

It wasn’t a birthday present from my parents, nor was it a gift from a friend. It was a letter, delivered by an unknown postman, addressed to me.

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The envelope was a plain, unadorned white, with my name written in neat, block letters. There was no return address, and the postmark was smudged, making it impossible to tell where it had come from.

I cautiously opened the envelope, my heart pounding with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Inside, there was a single sheet of paper, folded in thirds. I unfolded it and began to read.

*To the one who will become the ‘Great Magician,’*

*I know this letter may come as a surprise, but I assure you, it is no prank. You have been chosen. You possess the potential to become the greatest magician the world has ever seen.*

*I have been watching you for a long time, and I have seen the spark within you. It is a spark that must be nurtured, a talent that must be honed. That is why I am writing to you now.*

*I will not reveal my identity, nor will I tell you how I know these things. All I ask is that you trust me. Trust me, and you will embark on a journey that will change your life forever.*

*If you are willing to accept this challenge, meet me at the abandoned observatory on the outskirts of town at midnight on the next full moon. Come alone, and come prepared.*

*The path of a magician is not an easy one, but the rewards are beyond measure. I await your decision.*

*A Friend*

I stared at the letter, my mind reeling. A magician? Me? It sounded like something out of a fantasy novel, not real life. I had never considered myself anything special, just an ordinary college student trying to make my way through life.

But the letter felt different. It wasn’t a joke, or a prank. There was a strange sense of sincerity to it, a feeling that this was something real, something important.

I looked at the calendar. The next full moon was in three days. I had three days to decide whether or not to go to the abandoned observatory, to meet this mysterious “friend” and embark on a journey into the unknown.

I didn’t know what to do. Part of me wanted to dismiss it as a silly prank, to throw the letter away and forget about it. But another part of me, a part I hadn’t known existed, was drawn to the mystery, to the possibility of something more.

I spent the next three days in a state of confusion, my mind constantly going back and forth. I tried to talk to my friends about it, but they just laughed, telling me it was probably just some weirdo trying to mess with me.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was something more. And so, on the night of the full moon, I found myself standing in front of the abandoned observatory, my heart pounding in my chest.

The observatory was a dilapidated structure, its windows broken and its walls covered in graffiti. It looked like something out of a horror movie, not the place where a great magician would be waiting.

I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should just turn around and go home. But then, I remembered the letter, the feeling of sincerity, the promise of something more.

I took a deep breath and stepped inside.

The day I turned twenty, I received a strange gift.

It was a small, antique-looking music box. The kind you’d see in old movies, with a crank on the side. The box was made of dark wood, intricately carved with patterns that looked like vines and flowers. It was beautiful, but also a little eerie.

I found it on my doorstep, wrapped in plain brown paper with no return address. There was a small card attached, which simply read, “Happy Birthday.” No name, no signature, nothing else.

I was curious, of course. I’d never received a gift like this before. I’d always been a pretty ordinary person, living a pretty ordinary life. I worked at a small bookstore, lived in a small apartment, and spent most of my free time reading. I didn’t have any secret admirers or mysterious relatives.

So, who sent me this?

I took the music box inside and placed it on my desk. I hesitated for a moment, then reached out and turned the crank.

A delicate melody filled the room. It was a tune I’d never heard before, but it was strangely familiar, like a forgotten memory. The notes were clear and bright, but there was a hint of melancholy in them, too.

I listened to the music, mesmerized. It was like the box was telling me a story, a story I couldn’t quite understand.

When the music stopped, I felt a strange sense of calm wash over me. It was as if the music had somehow soothed something deep inside me.

I turned the crank again, and the music started once more. I listened to it over and over, each time feeling a little more drawn into its mysterious charm.

That night, I dreamt of the music box. In my dream, I saw the box open, and a small, glowing figure emerged. It was a woman, with long, flowing hair and eyes that shone like stars. She smiled at me, and then she vanished.

I woke up with a start, my heart pounding in my chest. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the dream was more than just a dream. It felt real, like a message.

I looked at the music box on my desk. It was just an ordinary object, made of wood and metal. But somehow, I knew it was more than that. It was a key, a key to something I didn’t understand.

I decided to find out what that something was.

에아의 보지에 한가득 담겨있던 정액은 시우가 허리를 움직일 때마다 부르릇 거품을 일으키며 빠져나왔다.
And already at its peak, Aea’s erogenous zone reacted with fervent delight to his slightest movements.

“No… No… No…! Stop…!”

Ea crawled, trying to get away from Siwoo.
But at that moment, ribbons made of black shadows wrapped around her arms and legs.
Her loyal subordinate, whom Ea had once used like her own limbs, was now taking away her freedom.

“No…! Stop it..! I said stop…!”

She was stripped of the magic that had made her special, that had made her a ‘chosen one.’
There was no greater horror.
Ea, her face ashen, stared at the ribbons binding her limbs.

“Stop it…! Please…! I beg you…!”
“……..”

Siwoo, with a dissatisfied look, added more ribbons around her body.
Her constant struggling made proper insertion difficult.

Ea, limbs spread-eagled and fixed, hung in the air, legs wide open.

The old woman’s face, wrinkled like a dried persimmon, was a map of a life lived. Her eyes, though clouded with age, still held a spark of mischief. She sat on the low wooden stool, her back slightly hunched, and meticulously peeled garlic. The sharp, pungent aroma filled the small kitchen, mingling with the scent of simmering kimchi.

“You’re back early today, aren’t you?” she said, her voice raspy but warm. She didn’t look up, her gaze fixed on the garlic clove in her hand.

“Yes, Grandma,” I replied, placing my bag on the floor. “The teacher let us out early.”

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “That’s good. More time to help me with dinner.”

I chuckled. “Of course, Grandma. What are we making tonight?”

“Your favorite, of course,” she said, finally looking up at me. Her eyes twinkled. “Spicy braised chicken.”

My stomach rumbled at the thought. “Really? That’s the best!”

She laughed, a dry, crackling sound. “I know, I know. Now, go wash your hands. And don’t forget to scrub behind your ears.”

I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at my lips. “Yes, Grandma.”

I went to the small sink in the corner and washed my hands thoroughly. The water was cold, but it felt refreshing. As I dried my hands, I glanced at the old woman. She was still peeling garlic, her movements slow but precise. I watched her for a moment, a wave of affection washing over me. She was the only family I had left, and I cherished every moment with her.

“Grandma,” I said, my voice soft.

She looked up, her eyes questioning.

“Thank you,” I said. “For everything.”

Her smile widened, and she reached out a hand, her fingers gnarled and rough. I took it in mine, and we sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the only sound the gentle sizzle of the kimchi on the stove.

시우는 매우 흡족한 기색으로 정액이 뚝뚝 떨어지고 있는 에아의 보지에 귀두를 쓱쓱 비비더니 쑥 삽입했다.
Ea’s face, pale as a sheet, alternated between looking at the cock buried deep inside her and Siwoo’s expressionless face.

“Is this enough? Let’s stop now… okay? I’m sorry… I was really wrong… I’m reflecting… haah…!”

The day I turned twenty, I received a strange gift.

It was a small, old-fashioned music box. The kind you’d see in a dusty antique shop. The wooden surface was worn, and the brass parts were tarnished, but it was still beautiful.

I didn’t know who had sent it. There was no sender’s name on the package, just my address written in neat, elegant handwriting.

I opened the lid. A delicate melody began to play. It was a tune I’d never heard before, but it was strangely familiar, like a forgotten memory.

As I listened, a strange feeling washed over me. It was like I was being pulled into the music, into a world beyond my own.

The room around me began to blur, and the music grew louder, until it was the only thing I could hear.

Then, everything went black.

When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in my room. I was standing in a forest, surrounded by tall trees and strange, glowing plants. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and unfamiliar flowers.

I was terrified, but also strangely excited. It was like stepping into a dream, or a story I’d read in a book.

I didn’t know where I was, or how I’d gotten there, but I knew one thing: my life had just changed forever.

The old woman’s face was a roadmap of wrinkles, each line etched with the stories of a life lived under the relentless sun. Her hands, gnarled and calloused, moved with a practiced ease as she kneaded the dough, the rhythmic thud a familiar sound in the small kitchen. The aroma of garlic and chili filled the air, a comforting scent that had been a constant in my life.

“Are you still staring at the wall, you silly girl?” she said, her voice raspy but laced with a hint of amusement. “The rice won’t cook itself, you know.”

I blinked, pulling myself back from the swirling thoughts that had been consuming me. “Sorry, Grandma,” I mumbled, my cheeks flushing.

She chuckled, a sound like dry leaves rustling in the wind. “Always lost in your own little world. What were you thinking about this time? That handsome boy from the market?”

My blush deepened. “No! It’s nothing like that.”

“Oh, is it?” she teased, her eyes twinkling. “Well, whatever it is, it can wait. Come help me with the kimchi.”

I sighed, but a small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. Grandma always knew how to bring me back to earth. I moved to her side, the familiar weight of the ceramic bowl settling in my hands. The bright red of the kimchi was a stark contrast to the worn wooden table, a splash of color in our otherwise simple life.

As we worked in comfortable silence, the only sounds the gentle clinking of the utensils and the occasional sigh from Grandma, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace. This small kitchen, with its familiar smells and sounds, was my sanctuary. It was a place where I could forget the worries that plagued me, at least for a little while.

But even here, in the heart of my home, the questions lingered. What was I meant to do with my life? Was I destined to spend my days helping Grandma in the kitchen, or was there something more waiting for me? The answers, like the elusive scent of the wild roses that grew by the river, always seemed just out of reach.

처음보다 훨씬 쉽게 깊숙하게 파고든 자지가 에아의 자궁경부에 펀치를 날렸다.
The pink pleasure spreading before my eyes.
This pleasure is poison.
A poison that will steal everything from Aea.

-Squish, squish, squish!

“Hah…ho…hooot…. Stop, please stop… I said stop!”

Enjoying her tender flesh, he also gains magical achievements.
There was no greater reward for Siwoo, so he didn’t stop.
Besides, if it belonged to this displeasing witch, he could take it without any guilt.

“Okay… I’ll give you all my assets in this world! I have a lot of money! Hoo…! Ugh…! So, let’s stop this…!”

But Siwoo didn’t stop.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I was wrong! I was so arrogant…!”

Siwoo, who hated noise, wrapped a ribbon around Aea’s mouth.

“Mmm…! Uuuuum…!”

Aea shook her head back and forth, but Siwoo once again began to pour his pristine magic into Aea’s womb.

“Ughhh…!”

With her eyes wide and white from the continuous pleasure, Aea trembled, experiencing orgasm after orgasm.

그렇게 시우는 총 두 시간에 걸쳐 세 번 에아의 안에 진득한 정액을 밀어 넣었다.
The wind was blowing.

The wind was blowing hard.

It was a wind that seemed to carry the scent of the sea.

I was sitting on the beach, watching the waves.

The waves were crashing against the shore, making a loud noise.

I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of the waves.

It was a soothing sound.

It made me feel calm and peaceful.

I opened my eyes and looked at the sky.

The sky was blue and clear.

There were a few white clouds floating in the sky.

I watched the clouds for a while.

They were moving slowly across the sky.

I felt a sense of peace and tranquility.

I was happy to be here.

I was happy to be alive.

I took a deep breath and smiled.

The wind was still blowing.

The waves were still crashing.

But I was no longer afraid.

I was at peace.

The old woman’s face was a roadmap of wrinkles, each line telling a story of a life lived under the harsh sun. Her hands, gnarled and twisted like ancient tree roots, moved with surprising dexterity as she kneaded the dough. The scent of sesame oil and garlic filled the small kitchen, a comforting aroma that had been a constant in my life.

“Are you still thinking about that boy?” she asked, her voice raspy but kind.

I didn’t answer, my gaze fixed on the swirling patterns of the wallpaper. It was a childish design of cartoon animals, a stark contrast to the seriousness of our conversation.

“He’s not worth your tears, child,” she continued, her hands now shaping the dough into small, perfect circles. “There are plenty of fish in the sea, as they say.”

I finally looked at her, a small smile playing on my lips. “You always say that, Grandma.”

She chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that shook her whole body. “And it’s always true. Now, stop moping and help me with these dumplings.”

I pushed myself up from the stool, the wooden legs scraping against the floor. The kitchen was small, but it was our sanctuary, a place where we could forget the world outside and just be. I took my place beside her, my hands clumsy compared to hers, but eager to learn.

As we worked, the silence was comfortable, filled only with the rhythmic sounds of our movements and the gentle sizzle of the frying pan. I watched her, her face illuminated by the warm glow of the stove, and I felt a surge of love for this woman who had been my rock, my anchor, my everything.

“Grandma,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

“Yes, child?”

“Thank you.”

She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “For what?”

“For everything.”

She reached out and squeezed my hand, her touch warm and reassuring. “You’re my everything too, you know.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the comforting smells of home and the love of my grandmother, I knew that everything would be okay.