Chapter 13 – #02_The Twins’ Witch (7)
#013
1.
After speaking, I doubted where such courage had come from.
I hadn’t really thought that I had been living my life swayed by sexual desire.
But now, something was different.
Whether the reaction of pent-up resentment had manifested as sexual desire, or if it was a result of giving up everything and becoming self-destructive, I didn’t know.
“Like this?”
The position Siwoo suggested wasn’t anything special.
Odette would take Siwoo’s member in her mouth from below, while Odile would give him a handjob.
It was a position where the apprentice witch sisters could be used effectively.
“Yes, if you take this position, Odette-nim can feel the throbbing of the testicles as the semen flows through the urethra, and Odile-nim can feel the texture of the male genitalia.”
“Ooh, that sounds plausible. You’re smart, Assistant?”
“That’s too much praise.”
In a way, it was something I shouldn’t do.
I felt a pang of conscience for deceiving the sisters, who were ignorant about sex, and doing something terrible.
But then I also thought, ‘What the hell, is it my fault? They were the ones who wanted to start this,’
“Odette, are you ready?”
“Uh-huh!”
Odette, like a dog holding onto a towel, nodded her head vigorously, her lips gripping Siwoo’s testicles.
“I will now teach you a technique not covered in the manual that will make a man ejaculate easily.”
“There’s such a thing? Well, I guess you are a man, Assistant.”
“First, Odette-nim, please slowly kiss the testicles as you did before.”
“Okay! Mmm….”
A pleasure that sent shivers down my spine.
More than anything, Odette’s face, which came into view from my downward gaze, was unfair.
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 wood was dark, almost black, and the carvings were so intricate they looked like they were breathing. When I opened the lid, a delicate melody, like a forgotten lullaby, filled the room.
I didn’t know who had sent it. There was no card, no return address, just the music box sitting on my doorstep, wrapped in plain brown paper. I tried to ask my family, but they all shrugged, saying they hadn’t seen anything.
I was a bit unnerved, but also strangely drawn to it. The melody was hauntingly beautiful, and I found myself playing it over and over again. It was like a comforting whisper in the chaos of my life.
That night, I had a dream. I was standing in a field of tall, silver grass, the sky above me a swirling canvas of purple and gold. In the distance, I saw a figure, cloaked in shadows, beckoning me forward. I tried to move, but my feet were rooted to the ground. The figure raised a hand, and the melody of the music box echoed through the dreamscape.
I woke up with a start, my heart pounding in my chest. The music box was still on my bedside table, its dark wood gleaming in the morning light. I opened it, and the familiar melody filled the room. It was the same tune from my dream.
That’s when I knew this wasn’t just a random gift. Something strange was happening, and I had a feeling the music box was at the center of it all.
Besides, seeing her sister sitting side-by-side, learning how to please a man, a strange sense of depravity tickled me.
“First, make this hand gesture.”
“Like this, right?”
Odile makes a circle with her thumb and forefinger, as if giving an OK sign.
“That won’t do. Odile, your hands are small, so make a ring with your thumb and middle finger.”
“Okay.”
Odile followed Siwoo’s instructions with a serious expression.
Her dainty hand drew a circle, ready to stimulate Siwoo’s cock at any moment.
“Next, you’ll use saliva as lubricant.”
“Saliva?”
“Yes, it’s possible to stimulate much more smoothly than with bare hands.”
“But wouldn’t that get your hands all covered in spit?”
Siwoo looked at Odile and declared confidently.
“It’s common knowledge that a woman’s saliva is the best lubricant.”
“W-what? Okay, I get it. Why are you being so serious?”
Siwoo felt no guilt about deceiving the naive apprentice witch.
Odile spat a glob of saliva onto my palm.
Even the way she spat was elegant, a beauty bestowed by her witch’s bloodline.
“I know, I saw Professor Amelia’s demonstration, didn’t I? Like this?”
Siwoo’s already raging cock forces its way between Odile’s white fingers.
“Wow, it’s incredibly hard and hot.”
“Thank you.”
“Huh? When did I compliment you?”
A hand with prominent blue veins on the back begins to move up and down.
Odile’s eyebrows cutely furrowed.
From observing her in the previous class, I noticed that Odile had a habit of bringing her eyebrows together when she was concentrating on something.
-Squeak, squeak, squeak.
Balls for the younger sister.
Cock for the older sister.
Wouldn’t this be at least a sister mini-bowl, if not a full-on sister rice bowl?
Odile’s palm was particularly warm, her body temperature higher than Siwoo’s.
With the addition of saliva, it felt as if my lower body was submerged in a bathtub filled with pleasure.
It seemed like my sister’s enthusiastic dragon-head-making was quite amusing to watch.
“Slurp… Unni! I want to try too!”
“No, you have to do it with your mouth from below.”
“That’s just petty! Why didn’t you say something before we started if you were so unhappy?”
The twins suddenly grabbed their own cocks and started fighting.
Worried they might break, Siwoo quickly intervened.
“Instead of that, how about we do it this way?”
The twins perked up their ears at Siwoo’s words, which had become persuasive from the middle.
“Each of us does it 30 times by hand, continuously changing positions.”
“That’s annoying.”
“Assistant’s right! That’s the fair way.”
Odile rejected the unfavorable proposal as if she had no interest in it, while Odette expressed her unfairness.
The twins, after a brief squabble, quickly came to a conclusion.
“Okay, then we’ll each do it once cheaply. I’ll go first.”
There was no need to do something this fun only once.
That was the twins’ conclusion.
Odile and Odette formed their positions as before.
With nothing else to worry about, they fully immersed themselves in their respective roles.
“How is it? Does it feel a little cheaper?”
“There’s no need to move all the way to the base. A man’s erogenous zone is concentrated in the glans area.”
“Ah, is that so?”
They might seem immature and foolish, but neither Odile nor Odette were stupid.
In the first place, a fool could never become a witch’s apprentice.
Moreover, if they were talents chosen as successors by a count, not just any witch, they were likely to be among those called geniuses.
Perhaps that was why Odile quickly grasped what she had been taught.
A rapture that couldn’t be compared to when she did it alone surged within her.
“There’s a clear drop at the tip. Is this semen?”
Odile, who had been swinging his arm, asked while making eye contact with his glans.
“No, that’s called pre-cum. It’s a kind of cleaning fluid that cleans the urethra before semen comes out.”
Siwoo answered with the knowledge he had, and Odile nodded as if he had learned something new.
I’ve been feeling this since a little while ago, but these twins might be surprisingly easy to take advantage of? Their innocence, separate from their intelligence, might be helpful later.
While lost in thought, the feeling of climax is slowly rising. Actually, I think it’s amazing that I’ve held out this long.
“Odile.”
“What is it? Are you in pain? Your face is all scrunched up.”
He says it like that, but it seems he already has an idea.
Well, if it’s a pathetic expression during climax, he’s probably seen it countless times already.
But the reason I suddenly spoke to Odile wasn’t just to tell him that.
The action I’m about to take is a touchstone to gauge how far I can push the line with Odile.
“Actually, you’ve seen me climax countless times, haven’t you?”
“That’s right.”
“Then, how about we try a slightly different approach this time?”
I took a short breath to hide the fact that I was nervous.
“It’s about receiving semen in your mouth.”
The hand movements I felt from above and the tongue movements I felt from below became distracting.
She was probably wondering why I had made such a suggestion.
“I know that the main component of semen is protein, so it won’t be harmful to the body. And experiencing the taste and smell is also part of the observation, right?”
“As expected of the wise Odile.”
“But Assistant Siwoo said that if you put a penis in your mouth, you could get germs!”
Odette’s nose, which had been diligently crawling under the legs to lick the testicles, was slightly wet with saliva.
The answer for that was already prepared.
“The pre-cum has passed through and sterilized it, so there won’t be any problems.”
I’m not sure if pre-cum actually has sterilizing properties, and the twins probably wouldn’t care much about that if their curiosity got the better of them.
The day I turned twenty, I received a strange gift.
It was a small, antique-looking music box. The box was made of dark wood, and intricate carvings adorned its surface. When I opened the lid, a delicate melody began to play. It was a tune I had never heard before, yet it felt strangely familiar.
That night, I had a dream. In my dream, I was standing in a vast, starlit field. The air was cool, and the scent of wildflowers filled the night. Then, a voice whispered to me, “The music box holds the key.”
I woke up with a start, my heart pounding. The dream felt so real, so vivid. I looked at the music box on my bedside table. Could it really hold a key? A key to what?
I spent the next few days trying to figure out the meaning of the dream and the music box. I listened to the melody over and over, hoping it would reveal some hidden message. I researched the history of music boxes, but found nothing that seemed relevant.
One evening, as I was listening to the music box, I noticed something I hadn’t seen before. On the bottom of the box, there was a small, almost invisible inscription. It was a series of symbols, unlike any language I knew.
I spent hours trying to decipher the symbols. I consulted books on ancient languages and cryptography, but nothing seemed to match. Finally, I decided to try a different approach. I took a piece of paper and began to draw the symbols, letting my intuition guide me.
As I drew, I felt a strange connection to the symbols. It was as if they were speaking to me, revealing their secrets. Slowly, the symbols began to form words, and the words began to form a sentence.
“The key lies within the melody.”
I looked at the music box, my heart racing. The key was not a physical object, but something hidden within the music itself. But how could I unlock it?
I closed my eyes and listened to the melody again, focusing on every note, every nuance. And then, I heard it. A subtle shift in the rhythm, a hidden pattern within the melody. It was a code, a sequence of notes that, when played in a certain order, would unlock the secret.
I carefully transcribed the sequence and began to play it on the music box. As I played, the box began to vibrate, and a soft light emanated from within. The lid of the box opened wider, revealing a small compartment I hadn’t noticed before.
Inside the compartment, there was a single, silver key. It was unlike any key I had ever seen. It was intricately designed, with strange symbols engraved on its surface.
I picked up the key, feeling a surge of energy coursing through me. I knew, without a doubt, that this key was meant for something extraordinary. But what was it for? And where would it lead me?
The answer, I knew, was waiting for me. And I was ready to find it.
“Not a bad offer. Okay. How do I do it?”
“Okay. Ugh, why does it taste salty?”
“Don’t worry, it’s pre-cum.”
The old woman’s face was a roadmap of wrinkles, each line a testament to the years she’d weathered. Her eyes, though clouded with age, still held a spark of mischief. She sat on the porch, a worn shawl draped over her shoulders, watching the world go by.
“Another day, another dollar,” she muttered, her voice raspy like dry leaves crunching underfoot. She chuckled, a sound like pebbles tumbling down a hill. “Or, in my case, another day, another nap.”
A young boy, no older than seven, skipped up the steps, his cheeks flushed with excitement. “Grandma!” he exclaimed, his voice full of youthful energy. “Can we go to the park today?”
The old woman’s lips curved into a smile, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening. “Of course, my little firefly,” she said, her voice softening. “But first, let’s have some cookies.”
She reached into a tin beside her, pulling out a handful of homemade cookies, their aroma filling the air. The boy’s eyes widened, and he eagerly took the offered treat.
“These are the best, Grandma,” he said, his mouth full.
“Only because they’re made with love,” she replied, her eyes twinkling.
As they sat there, the old woman and the young boy, a bond of love and laughter filled the space between them. It was a simple moment, but it was perfect.
The old woman’s face was a roadmap of wrinkles, each line a testament to the years she’d weathered. Her eyes, though clouded with age, still held a spark of mischief, and her voice, raspy as dried leaves, carried the weight of countless stories. She sat on the porch, a shawl draped over her thin shoulders, watching the world go by with a knowing smile.
“The world is a funny place, isn’t it?” she chuckled, her gaze fixed on a group of children playing in the street. “Full of surprises, both good and bad.”
A young man, no older than twenty, approached her, his brow furrowed with worry. “Grandma,” he said, his voice laced with concern, “I don’t know what to do. Everything feels so… uncertain.”
The old woman patted the space beside her on the porch, inviting him to sit. “Uncertainty is the spice of life, my dear,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “It’s what makes things interesting. If everything was certain, where would the adventure be?”
He sat down, his shoulders slumped. “But what if I make the wrong choice? What if I mess everything up?”
She took his hand in hers, her touch surprisingly strong. “There are no wrong choices, only different paths. And even if you stumble, you can always get back up. The important thing is to keep moving forward.”
He looked at her, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “But how do I know which path to take?”
The old woman smiled, a gentle, knowing smile. “You don’t. You just have to trust your heart and follow where it leads. And remember, even the longest journey starts with a single step.”
He nodded, feeling a sense of calm wash over him. “Thank you, Grandma,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude. “I feel much better now.”
She squeezed his hand. “That’s all I wanted, my dear. Now, go on, and make your own story.”
He stood up, his shoulders straightened, and walked away, a newfound confidence in his stride. The old woman watched him go, her smile widening. The world was indeed a funny place, full of surprises, and she, with her wisdom and kindness, was ready for whatever it had to offer.
The tongue moving to speak wriggled, caressing Siwoo’s cock.
The first day of school.
I was so nervous that I couldn’t even swallow my saliva. I kept gulping, but it felt like there was a lump in my throat.
“Are you okay?”
Mom asked, looking at me with worried eyes.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
I forced a smile, but my face felt stiff.
“You’re not sick, are you?”
“No, I’m really okay.”
I didn’t want to worry Mom, so I tried to act as normal as possible. But my heart was pounding like crazy.
Today was the first day of middle school. I was finally going to middle school. I was so excited, but at the same time, I was also very nervous. I was worried that I wouldn’t make any friends, and I was also worried that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with the classes.
“Okay, then. Have a good day at school.”
Mom patted me on the shoulder and smiled.
“Yeah, I will.”
I grabbed my backpack and left the house. The morning air was cool and refreshing. I took a deep breath and started walking towards school.
The school was bigger than I had imagined. There were so many students, and they all looked so cool. I felt like I was the only one who was nervous.
I found my classroom and sat down at a desk. The classroom was filled with students who were all talking to each other. I didn’t know anyone, so I just sat there quietly.
Then, a girl with short hair came up to me and said,
“Hi, I’m Kim Minji.”
I was so surprised that I couldn’t even answer.
“Um… I’m Lee Seohyun.”
I finally managed to say my name.
“Nice to meet you, Seohyun. Are you nervous?”
“Yeah, a little.”
“Me too. But it’ll be okay. We’ll make friends soon.”
Minji smiled brightly. Her smile was so warm that it made me feel a little better.
“Yeah, I hope so.”
I smiled back at Minji.
That’s how I met my first friend in middle school.
“Like this?”
“That’s right. From that position, just move your tongue very slowly.”
The old woman, her face a roadmap of wrinkles, squinted at me. “You’re the one who’s been causing all the ruckus, aren’t you?”
Her voice was like sandpaper, rough and grating. I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. “Ruckus? I don’t know what you mean.”
She chuckled, a dry, rattling sound. “Don’t play coy with me, young’un. I’ve seen your kind before. Always stirring up trouble.”
I shifted uncomfortably, the weight of her gaze heavy on me. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Oh, haven’t you?” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Then what’s with all the whispers? The strange occurrences? The way the wind seems to change direction when you walk by?”
I opened my mouth to protest, but she held up a gnarled hand, silencing me. “I’m not a fool, child. I know there’s something different about you. Something…unnatural.”
A shiver ran down my spine. How could she know? I’d been so careful, so meticulous in hiding my true nature.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
She leaned closer, her breath smelling of dried herbs and something else, something ancient and earthy. “Don’t lie to me. I can see it in your eyes. The flicker of something not quite human.”
My heart pounded in my chest. I had to get away from her, before she discovered the truth.
“I have to go,” I said, turning to leave.
“Not so fast,” she said, her voice suddenly sharp. “We’re not done here.”
I froze, my hand on the doorknob. “What do you want?”
She smiled, a slow, unsettling smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I want to know your secret.”
The old man’s face was a roadmap of wrinkles, each line a testament to the years he’d spent under the relentless sun. His eyes, though clouded with age, still held a spark of mischief, and his hands, gnarled and calloused, moved with a surprising dexterity as he tended to his small garden. He was a man of few words, but his actions spoke volumes, each gesture a lesson in patience and resilience.
He lived in a small, weathered cottage at the edge of the village, a place that seemed to have grown organically from the earth itself. The walls were made of mud and straw, the roof thatched with reeds, and the windows small and dark, like the eyes of a wise old owl. The garden was his pride and joy, a riot of colors and scents, a testament to his love for the earth and its bounty.
He had seen many seasons come and go, had witnessed the rise and fall of empires, and had learned the secrets of the land. He knew the language of the wind, the rhythm of the rain, and the whispers of the trees. He was a keeper of stories, a guardian of the past, and a beacon of hope for the future.
He was the village elder, a man revered for his wisdom and respected for his humility. He was a living legend, a testament to the enduring power of the human spirit. And he was, in his own quiet way, a force of nature, as constant and as powerful as the sun itself.
Odile diligently moved her hands while keeping the glans quietly in her mouth.
A tongue that swirls around, licking the round glans like melting a candy.
The world was a stage, and I was merely an extra.
That’s how I felt, anyway.
My name is Kim Hana, and I’m twenty-two years old. I’ve always been a bit of a wallflower, the kind of person who blends into the background. I wasn’t particularly talented, nor was I exceptionally beautiful. I was just… ordinary.
But even ordinary people have dreams, right? My dream was to become a writer. I wanted to create worlds with words, to tell stories that would move people’s hearts. But the reality was that I was working part-time at a convenience store, barely making ends meet.
“Hana, you’re spacing out again!”
The store manager, Mr. Park, snapped his fingers in front of my face. He was a middle-aged man with a perpetually grumpy expression, but he wasn’t a bad person at heart.
“Sorry, Mr. Park,” I mumbled, quickly scanning the items a customer had placed on the counter.
“You need to focus. We’re not running a charity here,” he grumbled, but his tone wasn’t harsh.
I finished the transaction and bowed slightly to the customer. As they left, I sighed. It was always the same. Wake up, go to work, come home, sleep. Repeat. My life was as monotonous as the ticking of the clock on the wall.
I glanced at the small notebook I kept hidden under the counter. It was filled with scribbled ideas, half-finished stories, and character sketches. It was my secret world, the place where I could escape the mundane reality of my life.
“What are you looking at?” Mr. Park asked, peering over my shoulder.
I quickly shoved the notebook under the counter. “Nothing, sir.”
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. He knew I was a bit of a dreamer.
The rest of the day passed without incident. I stocked shelves, cleaned the counter, and dealt with the occasional grumpy customer. As the evening wore on, I started to feel a familiar sense of loneliness creeping in.
I wanted more. I wanted to be someone, to do something meaningful. But how could I, when I was just an ordinary girl working at a convenience store?
As I walked home that night, the city lights blurred around me. I felt like I was floating, disconnected from everything. I looked up at the sky, searching for some kind of sign, some kind of answer.
But the sky was just a vast, empty canvas.
I sighed again, a small, defeated sound. Maybe I was destined to be an extra, forever watching from the sidelines.
But even extras can have their moments, right?
The day I turned twenty, I received a strange gift.
It was a small, antique-looking music box. The kind you might see in an old movie. The box was made of dark wood, intricately carved with patterns that seemed to shift when you looked at them from different angles. It was beautiful, but also a little unsettling.
I found it on my doorstep, no note, no return address. Just the box, sitting there like it had been waiting for me. I’d never seen anything like it before. I tried to remember if I’d ever mentioned wanting a music box, but nothing came to mind.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I opened it. A delicate melody filled the air, a tune I’d never heard before, yet it felt strangely familiar. It was hauntingly beautiful, like a forgotten lullaby.
As the music played, the room around me seemed to shimmer, the colors becoming more vibrant, the air thick with an almost palpable energy. I felt a strange pull, a sense of being drawn into the music itself.
Then, just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. The room returned to normal, the music box silent. I closed the lid, my heart pounding in my chest. What had just happened?
I tried to play the music again, but nothing happened. It was just a silent, beautiful box. I spent the rest of the day trying to figure out what had happened, but I couldn’t come up with any explanation.
That night, I dreamt of the music. In my dream, I saw a woman with long, flowing hair, her eyes filled with a sadness that mirrored the melody. She reached out to me, her hand just inches from mine, and then I woke up.
I knew then that the music box was more than just a pretty object. It was a key to something, something I didn’t understand, but felt compelled to explore.
Witch City, Gehenna.
It was a good thing I got caught.
That thought crossed my mind for just a moment.
I had already been close to climaxing, so unfortunately, there wasn’t much time to savor Odile’s moist, warm mouth.
“Just stay still like that.”
Siwoo’s thing started to get frisky.
A massive wave of pleasure, as if surging from the deepest part of my gut, accompanied a thick stream of semen that shot into Odile’s mouth.
-Glug glug glug
“Wha…???”
The old woman’s face, wrinkled like a dried persimmon, was a roadmap of a life lived. Her eyes, though clouded with age, still held a spark of mischief. She chuckled, a sound like dry leaves rustling in the wind. “You think you’re so clever, huh?” she said, her voice raspy but firm. “But the world is full of surprises, little one.”
I crossed my arms, trying to look unfazed. “I’ve seen enough surprises for a lifetime, Grandma.”
She raised a gnarled finger, pointing it at me. “Oh, have you now? Well, let me tell you about the time I met a talking cat…”
I sighed, knowing this was going to be a long story. But I also knew that these stories, no matter how fantastical, were the only way I could ever truly understand her. And maybe, just maybe, they held a little bit of truth in them too.
My hands stopped, too.
“Hah.”
A gasp escaped me.
Shiwoo shuddered, firing the last drop into Odile’s mouth.
Odile, her mouth full of semen, pursed her lips and puffed out her cheeks.
A single drop of semen, which she hadn’t managed to contain in her mouth, protruded from near her lips.
Odile, grimacing, pulled out a handkerchief and spat the semen onto it in a stream.
“What the hell was that?”
Rage flickered in Odile’s eyes.
She had never imagined it would taste like this.
Since it was white and sticky, she had expected a little of the sweetness of condensed milk.
The taste was so far from what she had anticipated.
“How is it? What does it taste like, sis?”
Odette, who had been observing her brother’s testicles contracting and relaxing, urged her sister to share her thoughts on the taste of semen, which she was experiencing for the first time.
But Odile still wore a furious expression.
“If I had known it would taste this bad, I wouldn’t have ordered it!”
But Siwoo didn’t bat an eye, calmly persuading Odile.
“I only suggested it to provide you, Odile, with the best possible observation conditions. After all, as a man, there’s no way I would have tasted semen myself.”
“That’s true…”
Fortunately, Odile wasn’t a petty witch who would irrationally get angry just because she was displeased.
“Tuh! Still, it’s a taste I never want to hold in my mouth again.”
Odile, oblivious to the semen clinging to the side of her lips, placed her hands on her hips and fumed.
“Me too! I want to try some too!”
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 chuckled, a sound like dry leaves rustling in the wind. “You think you’re so clever, huh? Trying to trick this old lady?”
I grinned, my cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “No, Grandma. I would never.”
She reached out a gnarled hand and pinched my cheek, not gently. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”
“Ouch! Grandma, that hurts!” I whined, rubbing my cheek.
“Good,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe that’ll teach you to be honest.”
I knew she was teasing, but I still couldn’t help but pout. “I am honest!”
“Oh, really?” She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Then tell me, what were you doing sneaking around the back of the shed?”
My heart skipped a beat. How did she know? I’d been so careful. “I… I wasn’t sneaking,” I stammered. “I was just… looking for something.”
“Looking for something, huh?” She leaned closer, her eyes narrowed. “And what might that something be?”
I hesitated, my mind racing. I couldn’t tell her the truth. Not yet. “It’s… a surprise,” I finally said, hoping my voice sounded convincing.
She studied me for a long moment, her gaze piercing. Then, she let out a sigh. “Alright, alright. I won’t pry. But you better not be getting into trouble, young man.”
“I won’t, Grandma,” I promised, relieved.
She patted my hand, her touch surprisingly soft. “Just be careful, okay? This old world is full of secrets, some of them dangerous.”
I nodded, a shiver running down my spine. I knew she was right. And I had a feeling that the secret I was keeping was more dangerous than I could ever imagine.
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 box was made of dark wood, with intricate carvings of vines and flowers, and a small silver key on the front.
I didn’t know who had sent it. There was no card, no return address, just the box sitting on my doorstep. I was curious, so I wound the key.
A delicate melody filled the room, a tune I’d never heard before. It was hauntingly beautiful, like a lullaby from a forgotten dream. As the music played, the room began to shimmer, and the world around me seemed to warp and twist.
Then, everything went black.
When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in my apartment. I was standing in a forest, the trees towering over me like ancient giants. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine needles. The music box was still in my hand, the melody now a faint echo.
Panic seized me. Where was I? How did I get here?
I looked around, trying to make sense of my surroundings. The forest was unlike any I had ever seen. The trees were taller, the leaves a deeper shade of green, and the air seemed to hum with an unseen energy.
I took a step forward, and the ground felt soft beneath my feet. I had to find my way back home.
As I walked deeper into the forest, I began to notice strange things. The flowers glowed with an inner light, and the animals seemed to watch me with an unnerving intelligence. I felt like I had stepped into a fairy tale, but this was no story. This was real.
I kept walking, hoping to find a path, a sign of civilization, anything that could lead me back to my world. But the forest seemed endless, and the deeper I went, the more lost I became.
The sun began to set, casting long, eerie shadows that danced among the trees. I knew I had to find shelter before nightfall. I stumbled upon a small cave, hidden behind a curtain of vines. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.
I settled inside, the music box still clutched in my hand. The melody was now a distant whisper, but it was the only thing that felt familiar in this strange new world.
I closed my eyes, trying to make sense of what had happened. One moment I was in my apartment, the next I was here, in this magical, terrifying forest.
I had no idea what awaited me, but I knew one thing: I had to find my way back home.
“Ugh…”
Odette’s face also scrunched up, similar to Odile’s.
She’d never tasted semen before, so she couldn’t imagine the flavor, but it certainly wouldn’t be pleasant.
“Then, it’s your turn, Odette.”
“Huh? Um… I’m okay.”
Odette, having already tasted the semen, reacted lukewarmly.
“That’s a shame. I thought both you and Odile should have the experience equally. If it’s like this, only Odile will have broadened her horizons with new knowledge, wouldn’t you say?”
Odette noticed something in Siwoo’s fluent speech.
Her sister knows, but she doesn’t?
It felt like she was losing somehow.
“Assistant Siwoo, I’ll try it. Even if the taste is a bit off, I’m curious.”
“Odette, you’ll regret it. Stop.”
“No! You always try to do fun things by yourself, Unni.”
Siwoo had subtly touched on Odette’s psychology, who always tried to follow and compete with whatever her older sister did.
Still, she had been watching them for two years.
Dealing with the twins, who had childish sides, was a piece of cake.
“Well, if that’s how it is, then there’s nothing I can do.”
As if she had no intention of stopping her, Odile put Siwoo’s egg pouch, which her younger sister had been sucking and drooling over just moments ago, into her mouth.
A moment later.
“Uweeek! It’s still awful!”
I shot my semen into Odette’s mouth as well, equally.
With Odette’s tearful face and stamping feet, today’s sex education class came to an end.