TE 21

On the rough, unyielding asphalt, being asked to kneel felt unbearable. 

The outdoor setting made her self-conscious, and the hard ground against her knees repulsed her. Yet, something else troubled her even more deeply. 

The man’s words of disappointment struck fear into Seo-ha’s heart. The mere thought of disappointing someone who had waited for her filled her with an inexplicable dread.

In her small, barren world, she couldn’t bear the idea of letting down someone who had chosen to enter her life.

Carefully surveying the empty surroundings, Seo-ha lowered herself to her knees, her movement hesitant and weighted with unspoken apprehension. Tae-beom unfastened his zipper, and something long and blunt emerged. 

To Seo-ha, the sight seemed entirely foreign and unsettling. Seeing him raw without a condom for the first time made her feel awkward for no reason. At the same time, she felt a slight sense of disgust at the unfamiliar body part, and curiosity that a man’s body had all these things mixed together.

“D-don’t you need to wear a condom?” Her question emerged as a fragile whisper, laden with uncertainty.

Tae-beom responded by laughing, a sound that seemed to mock her vulnerability. “Not when it’s going in the mouth,” he said, his words cutting through her tentative moment of seeking guidance.

Moon Seo-ha’s innocence was evident; she was like a child who needed guidance on even the most basic matters.Yet, Tae-beom found her naivety endearing.

His fingers deliberately captured her smooth jawline, his gaze piercing her with an almost clinical intensity. 

“Will you just continue to hesitate?” The question hung between them, more of a challenge than a question.

Seo-ha swallowed hard, her throat constricting with a dry, nervous tension. Even without explicit instruction, she understood what it meant. Just as he had traced her inner thighs before.

Summoning a fragile courage, she drew a deep, tremulous breath. 

Her hand moved with an awkward, uncertain precision, grasping his thick, exposed penis. 

Her clumsy manipulation prompted a sharp intake of breath from Tae-beom. 

“…Seo-ha,” he murmured, a complex smile playing across his lips—part discomfort, part amusement. 

“You’re hurting me.”

“Oh, am I hurting you?” 

Her response was instantaneous, genuine concern flooding her features. She released him with a startled, almost apologetic movement.

Silence hung between them, charged with unspoken tension. Tae-beom’s words hovered between criticism and playful provocation. 

“ You need a lot of instruction, don’t you?” 

“…”

“Your hand seems… uncertain,” he remarked, extending his palm with a calculated gesture.

Seo-ha, her vulnerability exposed, placed her hand atop his with a mixture of compliance and subtle defensiveness. 

“I simply don’t know,” she murmured, a hint of defensiveness threading through her admission.

“Indeed, you don’t,” 

His fingers, purposeful and precise, descended from her hand to her wrist—a gesture of both guidance and control. With deliberate movement, he repositioned her hand, forcing her grasp back to his intimate part.

“Do exactly as I say,” he murmured, his voice low and instructional. 

Her touch remained hesitant, fragile, a delicate pressure born of fear of causing pain. Each movement was calculated, restrained, her fingers barely applying any force.

“I’ll teach you everything,” Tae-beom continued, his hand now layered over hers. 

With meticulous care, he pressed against her knuckles, subtly demonstrating the precise pressure he desired. Her fingers, guided by his touch, applied a corresponding pressure—mechanical yet intimate.

“Just like this,gently rub it up and down” he whispered, revealing the exact sensation he sought.

Silence enveloped them, thick with unspoken tension. Tae-bum’s question hung in the air, a challenge veiled as instruction. 

“Can you maintain this?” 

His guiding hand withdrew, leaving Seo-ha suspended in a moment of uncertainty. She recalled the precise pressure he had demonstrated, the careful instruction etched into her memory. Cautiously, she nodded, a gesture of determination mingled with vulnerability.

Her hand moved with deliberate hesitation, following his earlier guidance.’Gently,’ she reminded herself, approaching the task like a delicate form of meditation.

“That’s it. Gently, stroke up and down,” he instructed, his voice low and encouraging.

From the sensitive tip to the base, her movements were measured, almost clinical in their precision. She imagined it as a form of massage, each stroke a careful exploration of boundaries and sensation. Tae-beom’s gaze—approving, instructional—encouraged her tentative progress.

“Can you relax your grip and withdraw?” The question was both instruction and test.

“I’ll… I’ll try,” she whispered, her voice a fragile thread of compliance and understanding.

The rhythm of her movements intensified, each stroke punctuated by a staccato beat against skin. Tae-beom’s breath grew ragged, his low murmurs blending praise and instruction. 

“Just like that,” he whispered.

Soft, rhythmic sounds filled the air as her hand moved faster. A thin, clear fluid began to seep from the tip. Seo-ha, unaware of what pre-cum was, stared curiously at the liquid coating her fingers. Tae-beom, still caressing her earlobe, told a well-intentioned white lie.

“It’s coming out because you’re making me feel good,” he murmured.

In reality, it was a natural physiological response to stimulation, regardless of the partner. But Tae-beom continued, “This only happens with someone you truly care for.”

Seo-ha, lacking the experience to discern truth from fiction in these matters, absorbed his words. Though it seemed implausible, Tae-beom’s serious expression lent credibility to his statement.

 “Open your mouth.” he instructed gently.

From start to finish, Tae-bum was captivated by Seo-ha’s unquestioning compliance—her willingness to follow without hesitation or resistance.

Her obedience was immediate, her lips parting with a docility that betrayed her profound inexperience. 

“Ugh!”

Of course, had Seo-ha known what was about to transpire, she might not have opened her mouth so willingly.

“Ugh…! Ugh…!”

The intrusion was merciless. No gentle instruction, no considerate preparation—just raw, untempered invasion. His penis pressed relentlessly against her throat.

When Seo-ha tried to pull her head back because she felt like vomiting, he grabbed her head with both hands and shook it back and forth as he pleased.

Naturally, being Seo-ha’s first experience, her teeth grazed Tae-beom’s flesh.

Tae-beom’s reaction however was minimal: a slight furrow of his brow, a restrained grimace. Even with a hint of pain,and a metallic hint of blood emerged he didn’t take out his penis, he instead violently thrust it more  into her mouth.

“You’re hurting me,” he murmured, his voice a strange blend of critique and pain.

Seo-ha struggled to breathe. With her mouth occupied, she should have been able to breathe through her nose, but she lacked the experience to do so effectively.

In her naive efforts to minimize potential harm, she tried to expand her mouth—Tae-beom patted her head as if praising her.

“You are naturally gifted, Moon Seo-ha ” 

“Heuk… ! Ughk! Ughk!”

His observation hung in the air: “Potential,” he breathed, reducing her experience to a clinical assessment.

The boundary between Seo-ha’s raw pain and Tae-bum’s calculated pleasure.

And then, finally, a threshold.

Just as Seo-ha feared she might suffocate, her airway suddenly cleared. 

Tae-bum had pulled out his penis.

“Hunh… haa… huh…” 

As Seo-ha gasped for air, a hot, viscous liquid splashed across her face.

It was Tae-beom’s semen.

“Mi… mi…” The syllables emerged fragmented, a desperate attempt to comprehend the situation. And then—a scream. A raw, primal scream erupted from her throat, piercing the suffocating silence.

“Are you insane?!”

As she staggered to her feet, it became clear that her anger wasn’t directed at Tae-beom’s violent act itself. Instead, her primary concern was far more practical.

“How can I have this on my face?” she demanded, her gaze sharp and pragmatic. “I have to go to work immediately…”

The woman, who looked quite fierce, only blamed him for cumming on her face.

Honestly, this reaction was a bit unexpected.

Tae-beom observed Seo-ha. He couldn’t tell if she was in a bad mood or not.

Was she genuinely upset but holding it back, or she didn’t truly care about what happened?

With deliberate cruelty, Tae-beom seized Seo-ha’s collar, using her own clothing to wipe away the intimate evidence, a gesture that transformed an already painful moment into something even more degrading. Not a handkerchief, not a tissue, not even his own garment, but her fabric, a calculated violation of her dignity.

Her face bloomed crimson, she was clearly offended.

She was stupid, but with a temper indeed.

“Well done, Seo-ha,” he murmured, his words both praise and dismissal.

“…,” 

She remained silent, her response a delicate negotiation between anger and submission.

“Thank you.”

Yet her temper dissolved with an almost comical ease. A small word of praise and gratitude was enough to transform her mood. 

The glare in her eyes, mixed with frustration and annoyance, quickly softened back to her usual gentle gaze.

She melted at the slightest sweet word. Is she just kind hearted?

Definitely not. She’s just naive.

“…I’ll go now.”

Tae-beom, who had been prepared to comfort her further and pretend to dote on her, was caught off guard by her sudden desire to leave. He held back the hand he had instinctively started to extend towards her.

Whatever her job was, it was clearly important to her. She hurriedly wiped the remaining fluid from her face with her sleeve and turned to leave.

Yet, even as she walked away, she couldn’t help but look back several times before entering the church.

Even after enduring such a degrading experience…

That very persistence… you…

“…”

The moment Seo-ha entered the church, Tae-beom stripped away his affectionate mask. He deliberately erased his emerging sentiments about her.

Moon Seo-ha is stupid. Moon Seo-ha is Mon Seok-ho’s daughter.

He clung to these facts, using them as a shield against any emerging complexity of feeling.

＊＊＊

Time had slipped away due to Tae-beom’s presence, and Seo-ha hurried her steps, ignoring the tingling sensation in her palate and throat.

She entered the church with hesitant steps, but once inside, her pace quickened. There was a backlog of work to complete, and she needed to finish it swiftly if she wanted to meet Tae-beom sooner.

However, her hurried stride slowed as she approached the sanctuary.

The church’s layout required passing through the sanctuary to reach the elevator leading to the basement. While it was rare for Seo-ha to come up to ground level during work, traversing the sanctuary to reach her workspace was a familiar routine, not something that typically warranted extra attention.

On any other day, Seo-ha wouldn’t have had a reason to enter the empty sanctuary on her way to her workspace.

But today was different.

The sanctuary doors were open.

She was certain they had been closed when she left the church earlier…

Thinking there might be a lingering congregant who needed to be ushered out, Seo-ha stepped into the wide-open sanctuary.

At first, the darkness engulfed everything. But as she approached the altar, the moonlight reflecting off the stained-glass windows revealed a silhouette – a lone man, seemingly in prayer.

…Prayer? Was he really praying?

His posture seemed rather peculiar for prayer.

With each cautious step closer, Seo-ha realized her initial perception was incorrect.

The man had his legs propped up on the pew in front of him, humming a tune in this irreverent position.

No devout member would pray in such a manner, at least not in this church.

But it wasn’t just his posture that unsettled Seo-ha.

For some inexplicable reason, she felt a sense of déjà vu.

As if she had encountered this precise atmosphere before…

“Excuse me,” she spoke.

Surprisingly, the man showed no startle at her silent entrance. Only then did Seo-ha recognize him—the strange man from the morning service who had shouted “Hallelujah” at her.

“Where is the pastor?” his deep voice resonated through the sanctuary.

The man didn’t even glance in the direction she was standing,Seo-ha questioned whether he had actually spoken to her.

“Since you’re here, I assume the pastor is still in the church as well?”

His gaze was fixed on the crucifix above the stained-glass window, where Jesus hung. Even in the presence of such a grand depiction of Christ, the man showed no inclination to correct his irreverent posture.

Seo-ha had been watching his silhouette—dark as a shadow—and only after moistening her dry lips did she respond to his query.

“The pastor isn’t here right now.”

“But you are.”

“If you want to see the pastor, please come back later.”

“I doubt anything would change if I returned.”

The man, who had been lounging against the backrest, suddenly rose with a languid movement that belied the abruptness of his action. His stance remained far from formal—hands tucked into his pants pockets, body angled slightly askew. Seo-ha found his casual demeanor unsettling but felt uncertain about challenging the strange atmosphere surrounding him.

“Your pastor is quite elusive. I waited patiently, gentlemanly, until the service concluded.”

“What… what do you want?”

“Business? Well…”

“…”

“A conversation?”

Seo-ha looked at him with a puzzled expression, unable to comprehend his words. The man elaborated:

“Leaving a notice through text or letter feels impersonal. I prefer to communicate face-to-face.”

She recalled her father’s peculiar behavior earlier when he had observed this man—suggesting this individual was more than a mere church member. Most likely, their connection involved some business entanglement.

“Could you call the pastor for me?”

“I’ve already told you, the pastor isn’t here.”

“You’re lying.”

“Why would you think I’m lying?”

Does he already know I’m his daughter? Is he planning to harm me?

Seo-ha’s eyes darted nervously, tracking the approaching man’s polished shoes. Her mind raced: Should I escape? Should I run?

“My baby.”

The unexpected endearment froze her completely. Her frantic mental calculations suspended, she lifted her gaze to meet his unwavering stare. Somehow, he had drawn incredibly close, his proximity creating an unsettling intimacy.

Did he just call me… baby?

As she tried to process what had just happened, the tall man suddenly bent down without warning. In her stunned state, Seo-ha found his face alarmingly close to hers.

“…”

The proximity was suffocating; their noses nearly touched. Just as Seo-ha thought she couldn’t breathe, the man spoke again, his words sending a chill down her spine.

“You smell like semen.”

The statement struck her with a shock that stole her breath in an entirely different manner.