Chapter 56- How is that Even Possible!?

Raven’s fingers didn’t stop their relentless movement. "What do you mean?"

"Her body." Min-jung gestured vaguely with her free hand, still not quite able to look directly at the scene. "The way she’s reacting. It’s... it’s too intense. Like..."

She trailed off, her mind struggling to articulate what her instincts were screaming.

Even when Min-jung touched herself—which she did, occasionally, out of biological necessity rather than any real enjoyment—she’d never felt sensations this ’vivid’.

Never reacted with this kind of full-body trembling.

Never made sounds like the muffled whimpers coming from behind Raven’s hand.

It looked... real.

’Too’ real.

Like actual pleasure, not the performative moaning she’d seen in porn or drawn in her comics.

Raven’s lips curved into a smirk. "Why not make a video instead?"

’’!’’

The suggestion hit both women like a physical blow.

Hana’s entire body went rigid, her eyes flying wide open.

’No. No no no. Not a video. Pictures are bad enough but a VIDEO—with sound—with my voice—’

She tried to shake her head, tried to protest through Raven’s palm, but his grip tightened. His fingers inside her curled harder, making her back arch involuntarily.

"Mmmmph—!" The moan that escaped was desperate, pleading.

’Please don’t. Please. I’ll do anything. Just not that. Not with her watching. Not with her FILMING—’

Min-jung, meanwhile, had frozen in place.

Her phone lowered completely, her arms hanging at her sides as her brain struggled to process the suggestion.

A video.

A full porn video.

Filmed by her. In her apartment. Of this stranger fucking a hooker on her bed.

"That’s..." Her voice cracked. "That’s morally wrong. That’s like... actual pornography. Not drawings. Not art. Actual—"

But even as she said it, her eyes drifted back to the woman on the bed.

The masked hooker. The one Raven had picked up off the street.

A prostitute.

Someone who’d probably been fucked by god-knows-how-many men. Someone who sold her body for money. Someone who’d chosen this life.

’What’s the difference between this and whatever she does with her other clients?’ Min-jung’s mind rationalized. ’At least I’m not touching her. At least I’m just... documenting.’

And there was another thought. One she was ashamed to admit even to herself.

If Raven was busy fucking this woman... he wouldn’t pounce on Min-jung again.

It was like having a lion in your house. Better to feed it meat than let it hunt you.

"I..." Min-jung swallowed hard. "I have a good camera. A real one. For... for taking reference photos of places before I draw them."

She was already moving toward her desk, her hands shaking as she pulled open a drawer and extracted a professional-looking digital camera. The kind with interchangeable lenses and manual focus.

Expensive. Purchased back when she’d had delusions of being a serious artist instead of a porn comic hack.

"Tell me what angles you want."

The words came out before she could stop them. Professional. Detached. Like she was discussing a business transaction instead of... instead of ’this’.

Raven’s grin widened. "We can fuck this bitch and get you good shots. You can draw things from actual porn instead of making it up."

’Thump thump thump.’

Min-jung’s heart hammered against her ribs like it was trying to escape her chest.

As an artist... god, as an ’artist’, the opportunity was incredible. To see actual sex. Actual bodies. Actual positions and angles and the way flesh moved and compressed and—

But it was vulgar. Wrong. Crossing a line that shouldn’t be crossed.

Yet...

She couldn’t do this herself. Couldn’t hire models. Couldn’t afford to pay professionals to pose for pornographic reference shots. The most she’d ever managed was those hidden cameras in dressing rooms, and even those were risky.

But this? This was right here. Free. Available.

’And it’s not like I have to pay her,’ Min-jung rationalized, her grip tightening on the camera. ’That guy doesn’t have money—that’s why he needed to stay at my place. So how would he even pay the hooker? She’s probably expecting me to compensate her for the trouble.’

’So really, this is just... business. An exchange. She gets paid, I get reference material, everyone wins.’

The logic was flimsy and Min-jung knew it. But she clung to it anyway because the alternative was admitting what she was really doing.

She turned on the camera. The lens focusing with a soft whirr.

"Show me..." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Show me your cock from this angle. Then... then fuck her."

’’’

On the bed, Hana heard those words and felt her world collapse.

’No.’

’Please no.’

’Not this. Anything but this.’

Her daughter—her baby girl, her precious Min-jung who she’d raised and loved and failed so completely—was about to film her own mother getting fucked.

And she had no idea.

The shame was so overwhelming that Hana thought she might actually die from it. Her heart was pounding so hard it hurt, each beat slamming against her ribs like it wanted to burst through her chest.

Tears poured down her face in thick streams, pooling in her ears, soaking into her hair.

’Just kill me. Please. Someone just kill me and end this nightmare.’

But her body betrayed her.

Even through the crushing humiliation, she could feel the arousal building. Feel her pussy clenching around Raven’s fingers. Feel the slickness coating her inner thighs.

She was ’wet’.

Dripping wet.

Her nipples were so hard they ached, pointing skyward like little peaks. Her skin felt fevered, flushed all over.

And god help her, part of her—some dark, broken part she didn’t want to acknowledge—was turned on by this.

By being used. By being filmed. By the degradation of it all.

’What’s wrong with me? What kind of mother gets aroused while her daughter—’

"Unzip my pants."

Raven’s command cut through her spiral.

Min-jung moved forward on her knees, camera in one hand. She was filming now—the little red light on the camera body was blinking steadily.

Recording.

Her free hand reached out, trembling, toward Raven’s zipper.

This close, she could see everything in high definition through the camera’s viewfinder.

That woman’s pussy. The lips were thick and swollen, puffy from use. But the opening itself looked... tight? Almost impossibly tight for someone who supposedly sold their body for a living.

And the way cum was dripping out—thick white globs mixing with clear arousal—created this obscene trail down to the bedsheet.

’Focus on the technical aspects,’ Min-jung told herself desperately. ’The lighting. The composition. The way bodily fluids catch the light. This is just anatomy. Just reference material.’

Her fingers found the zipper. Pulled it down.

’Zzzzip.’

The sound seemed impossibly loud.

And then she was pulling the fabric aside, reaching into the opening to—

"WHAT IS THAT?!"

Min-jung fell backward, her ass hitting the floor hard as she scrambled away from the bed.

The camera dropped from her shaking hands, bouncing once before she caught it again on pure instinct.

Because what she’d just seen—what had been revealed when she’d opened his pants—

’That can’t be real. That can’t be REAL.’

Nine inches of thick, veined cock sprang free from Raven’s pants like some kind of weapon.

It wasn’t just the length. It was the ’girth’. Thick as her wrist, maybe thicker. Dark and angry-looking, with prominent veins running along the shaft. The head was already glistening with pre-cum.

It looked like something from those extreme BDSM videos. The ones with African guys built like porn stars.

Not something that existed in real life. Not something that could actually fit inside a human woman without causing serious injury.

"How..." Min-jung’s voice was barely a whisper. "How is that even possible?"