I should have listened to my friends’ advice. I shouldn’t have opened the internet comment sections ever again.
But like someone with obsessive-compulsive disorder, I read each and every one of their comments meticulously. I really went around to every site where my article was posted and read hundreds, thousands of comments without missing a single word.
Do you know what the most impressive comment among them was?
…….
It was a comment saying I was a disgusting whore.
A disgusting gay bastard who should have died together back then five years ago… they said.
…….
My friends jumped up and down saying I should sue all the malicious commenters, but I didn’t bother to do so.
Then what on earth was my intention in deliberately seeking out and reading the malicious comments that tormented me all night…?
Jeongmin-ssi.
Min-ssi has suffered serious psychological damage. Naturally, it’s still an unstable period. Didn’t we also talk about dreams before? Dreams ultimately reflect an anxious reality. Freud also talked about such things.
You’re now at a stage of recovery.
Our medical staff, including myself, are all doing our best so you can gradually move toward the light.
So I hope Min-ssi will also cooperate so you can receive more active treatment…….
What a joke.
……??!
Stop spouting nonsense, doctor.
…….
You also think of me as a disgusting gay bastard, a crazy whore.
So don’t wear that hypocritical white coat and act like an expert, like you’re trying to help.
…….
What do you people know about me. What exactly do you know?
The case records left by the detectives? The testimony of the psychology doctorate who interviewed me??
…….
Why don’t you just say it openly to the world. Like those malicious commenters.
That the man named Jeongmin who was rescued from that place five years ago became a sex addict who can’t live a single day without a man’s cock.
Forget all that fucking hypnosis therapy, self-suggestion therapy, drugs—he’s just destined to die getting fucked until his asshole is tattered.
Doctor.
You know what?
Even at this very moment, there are overflowing numbers of men who want to buy me.
That’s what the world is like.
There are hundreds of people who’ve been curious about my personal details since that incident.
How was that bastard laid under men. How exactly do men do it with each other.
It’s disgusting yet humans feel endless fascination with such taboo things. If you’re a doctor, you should know better than anyone about such perverted psychology.
There was even a man who offered me hundreds of millions of won, saying he’d raise me even more provocatively.
I know well the gazes men give me.
Heterosexuals with blatant looks of disgust.
Homosexuals with overflowing curiosity and half sympathy.
Sexual deviants desperate to make contact with me somehow.
You’re also a man before being a doctor… so you’re definitely one of the three.
…….
But I’ve noticed the way you look at me every time.
You’re the third type.
Isn’t that right?
The medicine you always prescribe to me, it actually contains aphrodisiac ingredients.
Am I wrong?
***
My whole body is maddeningly languid.
At some point, the medicine the doctor prescribed started driving me crazy.
It keeps returning me to Nastassja from those days.
If that’s not the case.
Have I really gone insane?
I indulged in sex frantically. The only driving force that made me forget all of that was sex. I was truly like a madman starving for sex.
One day I attended a slave party hosted by a secret internet gathering. It was a hallucination party with a rape theme where I could be taken freely by men I’d never met before. The organizer was said to be a young financial tycoon, but everyone wore masks so you couldn’t tell who was who.
Most were socially prominent figures, and not a few had recognizable faces, so wearing masks to hide faces was an iron rule of this party. I too could thoroughly hide my true identity with a mask.
I was placed on a platform, tied up like a sacrifice before them. I was about to be auctioned. There was a rule that those who applied not as the rapist but as the one being raped must participate in the auction like a slave on this day. Several young women including myself and two men all went to auction.
Before the bidding, the men were given the right to fully appreciate the bodies of the sex slaves. The woman who was in a position to be auctioned right before me had her breasts fondled and her pussy exposed to the grasp of numerous men. My turn was right after. They had no hesitation in touching the body of a fellow man.
That day I was auctioned at the highest price among the slaves. The reason was that I faithfully spouted like a fountain according to how they thrust. I was very accustomed to this kind of thing. Since I was a body trained daily by J and K several years ago, seducing men, squeezing out precum from men’s cocks was very natural, like eating a meal.
After that, I often attended that party for fun. I did strip shows in front of them and had perverted sex while being passed around to countless men.
I recalled my umbrella I lost recently.
I was gripped by a corny sentiment that perhaps when I lost the umbrella that day, I might have lost my soul along with it.
If such orgies for pleasure were an absolutely necessary element in my life.
The existence of a lover was also an absolutely necessary element in a different sense.
But I couldn’t be satisfied with one lover. Perhaps it was a natural result. If a dirty body that enjoys chaos could be satisfied with just one man, that would be ridiculous.
My lover was an extremely ordinary, featureless man. I deliberately chose such a man. Someone without features who would easily be buried in a crowd. Someone who wouldn’t leave even a single imprint even after breaking up.
He was the type who absolutely didn’t know about perverted sex, and his sex also proceeded in a standard way that would appear in textbooks.
It’s not that I was dissatisfied with the relationship with him. Sexual pleasure could always be satisfied at that perverted gathering. What I hoped for from my lover wasn’t such immoral pleasure.
I needed stability.
The feeling of being loved.
The reassurance of being protected.
Paradoxically, I was simultaneously desiring the urge for destruction and the urge for protection.
***
Clank.
Min had been staring intently at the familiar man from the moment he entered. The limping cripple always evoked a strange feeling whenever he saw him. J had never once shown his left hand with only three fingers. His left hand was always secretly wrapped inside his right hand.
Somehow I find it funny, he thought, smirking inwardly.
The man’s face had become much more haggard. Last time he had shaved cleanly, but this time perhaps even that was too bothersome—black stubble had grown on his pallid face. He looked like a young ascetic who had begun training in the mountains. Well, inside a cell might be an even better place to cultivate oneself than in the mountains.
“I applied for a special visit… I didn’t know you’d come out so obediently?”
Min smiled slightly, folding his eyes.
Seeing him like this, he looks exactly like the pure, clear face from when I first saw him at the convenience store long ago. Until you notice the cruel nature coiled like a snake inside.
“I brought something delicious, want to eat some?”
As Min rummaged through his bag and opened the lid of a small lunch box, appetizing-looking inari sushi and various fruits were neatly arranged.
But J didn’t touch the lunch box.
“Why aren’t you eating?”
His expression doesn’t change as he looks at Min tilting his head.
Somehow he seems like an idiot.
The existence called J who terrified him so much long ago was gradually changing into an idiot. Exactly like himself back then, gradually falling into a powerless idiot after being captured by them.
“What. Are you scared there might be poison in this?”
Min said this and giggled as if it was funny.
J still says nothing. With his still neat and clean face, he didn’t look like a criminal at all even with the stubble growing.
That very point makes Min angry.
About that reality that hardly shows on the outside despite having such a vicious interior.
Min looked around the visiting room anew.
Having served five years as a model prisoner, special visits became possible, so once every three months like now, he could talk face-to-face without a glass partition between them. Only four times a year. Times like gifts.
Whether J regarded it as punishment or as a gift, even Min couldn’t know.
Of course, guards always followed thoroughly. Since they were always yawning boredly and just watching the time, at least they weren’t particularly obstructive, which was fortunate.
“How’s your condition these days. Hyung?”
Hyung.
Min called him ‘hyung’ affectionately.
Whenever he does that, J’s gaunt shoulders flinch, trembling subtly.
Min liked observing him being frightened.
“Don’t you want to get out of here?”
“……”
“Did I ask something too obvious.”
