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Her Fetish

As a focused dance major, the protagonist of Her Fetish is fully committed to her upcoming examinations. To her peers and instructors, she is the embodiment of a disciplined, well-behaved student. However, beneath her polished exterior lies a private world of desire that contradicts her public image. She grapples with a secret fixation on being violated, a recurring fantasy that she keeps hidden from the world while navigating her academic pressures in this young adult story.
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Chapter 2

"No... Please... Let me go..." I raised my chin and stood on tiptoe, squeezing out a groan from my throat as I struggled one last time.

The man seemed to grow more excited at that. He ripped my thong without any hesitation.

I was doomed.

Feeling the heat behind me, I closed my eyes in resignation and raised my hips obediently. I could only hope that he would not hurt me again after he found his release.

Just then, a burst of laughter came from outside the alley—a few young men were chattering as they walked toward the alley.

When I heard the sound, I bit the man's arm.

He let go when the pain hit him. Seeing that the situation was not in his favor, he picked up his pants and turned around to run away.

The men were getting closer.

I didn't dare to run in the direction where the hooligan left, so I could only quickly pull down my skirt before I squatted by the wall with my head down.

The men didn't seem to expect to see a woman squatting in the alley. They suddenly became quiet.

However, they didn't do anything to me. Someone only whistled at me and then laughed as he chased after his companions.

As I looked at the thong hanging on my ankle, my heart beat non-stop, and my face was burning.

They must have thought that I was peeing in public.

But it was better to be embarrassed than to be molested.

After the man sauntered away, I hurriedly took off the torn thong and ran home without missing a beat. I then stumbled into the bathroom.

The water gushed from the shower head, spraying on my naked body. And yet, it could not extinguish the fire in my heart.

If… things had unfolded as they should, I would have been raped by that man.

My legs trembled at the thought of that. I had goosebumps all over my body.

I lay sprawled with my hands on the wall, tiptoed desperately, and raised my hips as I did in the alley, imagining that there would be a man behind me.

This taboo, shameful, and exciting tremor gradually turned into excitement in my heart.

The exhilaration reached its peak when I walked out of the bathroom naked.

After I turned on all the lights in the house, I danced to my heart's content in front of the wall covered with certificates and trophies.

I did the dance moves I secretly learned online but never danced in front of anyone. Every move seemed to be created to seduce men.

Eventually, my sixth sense prompted me to look out the window.

The opposite floor was all dark; only one light was lit on the top floor. But through the glass, I thought I saw a man leaning against the balcony, staring at me intently.

Did he… see everything I did?

This kind of private exposure to outsiders reminded me of the man in the alley.

The man was like a key, opening the darkness hidden deep in my heart and releasing a beast called "desire".

I went back to the bedroom and lay in bed, quietly feeling the subtle change of emotions into a desire to be exposed to eyes that watched me more intently.

Following my instincts, I spread my legs and slowly knelt with my back to the floor-to-ceiling window.

Through the reflection of my mirror, I could secretly glimpse the man with his arm moving up and down.

He was doing the same thing as me.

This strong sense of shame brought my waist lower but my hips higher. The waves in my heart came crashing one after another. My every nerve was stretched to the limit.

We looked at each other tacitly and pleasured ourselves.

Until I ran out of energy and lost consciousness, I was still thinking that I probably…could never get rid of this feeling.

My body seemed to be born to enjoy desire.