[Puppet Brothel] [The End]

The Puppet Brothel was an urban legend that had circulated for who knows how long. It was said that passing through the midnight fog would lead to that brothel, a paradise for all men, a place where primal desires could be unleashed.

"...The gang that robbed the gold shop at gunpoint this morning still has one member at large..." The car radio's broadcast was cut off halfway through. The man wearing sunglasses slammed the butt of his gun on the radio, and then only static echoed through the car. This man was the protagonist of the broadcast, the last remaining member of the robbery gang.

"Damn it!" he cursed, punching the static-emitting radio a few more times. The automatic tuning had switched to a new frequency, and the sound of a late-night radio program came on. The man wiped the sweat from his brow, leaned back in his seat, and loosened his foot slightly from the accelerator.

Everything had been planned perfectly, but an unexpected incident still occurred. Just as the group was about to leave after robbing the gold shop, a passing policewoman spotted them. Their escape plan was ruined, and the group, who had finally managed to steal the gold, found themselves in a standoff with the police. After several hours, only the man who had orchestrated the operation escaped alone.

"Damn it! If that bitch had fallen into my hands, I'd fuck her to pieces! You slut!" Of course, the man who cursed the policewoman who had ruined his entire plan wasn't angry about his accomplices who had been killed or arrested.

As he cursed, his hand slowly touched a canvas bag beside him. The contents were valuable, but compared to what they had originally stolen, it was at most a tenth of the total.

Because of the policewoman, the man's windfall had shrunk, and more importantly, the policewoman had caused the man's face to be seen by the police.

"...It's said that passing through the midnight fog will lead to that..." The radio was blaring nonsense, but to the man, consumed by rage, it only added to his frustration.

He slammed his fist on the radio again. This time, his hand probably hit the switch, silencing not only the voice but also the static.

The man muttered another curse under his breath, shifting his attention slightly to the scene outside the car window.

It was late at night, and the streets were nearly deserted, especially as he drove through narrow alleys where even streetlights were scarce. He had to find a way to escape the city, no matter what, or he'd be found by the police sooner or later. The wanted poster should have been issued by now; most citizens probably already knew what he looked like. So, if he wanted to hide, he'd better get out of the city as soon as possible and find refuge in the more chaotic suburbs.

"I'll hide for a while, grow a beard, and then figure something out. I've got the money. I'll always have somewhere to spend it." Perhaps because he was quieter now, the man's mood had calmed down a bit, and he muttered to himself. Suddenly, he noticed red and blue lights flashing at the alley's exit—police lights.

"Damn it," the man cursed again, turning the steering wheel. He'd lost count of how many times he'd changed routes to avoid police checks, weaving through narrow alleys and lingering just outside police checkpoints. In fact, although he felt he was heading towards the suburbs, he was no longer sure of his direction.

After driving out of the alley on the other side, he found himself in completely unfamiliar territory. Although it was a main road and the streetlights were fairly bright, the fog was thickening. The deathly silent street seemed to have become another world. The man rolled down the window, spat out the smoke, and drove along the main road into the deeper fog. He

drove on like this for an unknown amount of time, driving through the fog-shrouded road, his sense of time seemingly dulled.

He felt increasingly cold, the gaps between the streetlights seemed to widen, and the shadows of the trees appeared to grow ever larger.

"Ah, I guess I'm out of town?" the man muttered. His fog lights were on, but visibility was only a few meters. The highway was definitely closed, and even if it weren't, he didn't plan to escape on it. In fact, there was no need to go any further. Reaching the suburbs was enough.

Then, the man noticed his car seemed to be slowing down. Although he'd been driving slowly to avoid police checkpoints and because of the fog, it now felt even slower. That's when he noticed the dashboard; the gas was almost empty.

"Damn it, this is the worst time!" the man slammed his fist on the steering wheel. He could only find gas at a self-service station, and he had no idea where he was or if there was any gas nearby. Being caught by the police because of a dead gas tank would be a huge loss.

Just then, he noticed some lights peeking through the thick fog. They didn't look like police lights; they were probably from a roadside shop in the suburbs. The man stopped his car, slung his canvas bag over his shoulder, tucked a Black Star pistol into the back of his pants, grabbed a homemade gunpowder gun, and got out of the car.

The moment he stepped out, the thick fog dissipated. Only then did the man realize he had indeed driven into the suburbs. Rows of trees stretched as far as the eye could see on either side of the road, and through the gaps in the trees, he could see what appeared to be endless fields. Because of the darkness, everything was pitch black, making it seem exceptionally desolate. Only a few steps ahead was a quaint little attic, emitting a warm, orange light.

"Hmph," the man snorted coldly. He'd go find out where he was first, then make his plans. If the people there dared to call the police, he could kill them then. Thinking this, he strode towards the little attic.

The man approached the small attic, and just as he was about to push open the two slightly ajar wooden doors, they opened by themselves, releasing a rich fragrance. "Welcome." A leisurely voice spoke, and a graceful figure appeared before him. The voice, though gentle, almost took his breath away. He took a step back, staring wide-eyed at the suddenly appearing figure.

It was a woman, her head draped in a black veil like a bride's headscarf, obscuring her face. However, the veil accentuated the woman's fair skin, as white as snow, almost translucent. She wore only a garment—the man, of course, didn't recognize it as a "裳" (chang), but rather, to him, it resembled a nightgown. The light blue 裳, adorned with various ornate floral patterns, draped over her alluring body, its opening open, tied only at the waist with a sash. The woman's full breasts stood high beneath her clothes, the edges of the bodice almost revealing her areolas. In the lamplight, the man could see the two nipples protruding from the thin silk fabric. Looking down from the open bodice, he saw the woman's smooth abdomen with an oval navel, making him swallow hard. Below the navel, a knotted ribbon concealed the woman's most intimate parts, but he knew she wasn't wearing underwear. Her long, shapely legs were incredibly alluring.

"Women..." The man's heart began to race. Even without seeing her face, he knew this woman was far superior to any of the women he had slept with in the past; her figure alone was exceptionally good!

For a moment, he almost forgot he was a fugitive robber, and a lewd smile unconsciously spread across his face.

"Welcome, may I ask..." the woman seemed about to say something more.

But the man's mind was already consumed by lust. After all, any normal man would be unable to suppress his desire upon seeing a nearly naked woman standing before him, especially since this man had already abandoned all moral constraints, for he was already a robber.

As the woman spoke, the man grabbed her shoulder, raised his flintlock pistol, and brandished it a couple of times. Then, with a lewd laugh, he threatened, "Alright, you bitch, dressed so provocatively, you must be craving a man, right? Hehehehe, if you're obedient, I'll satisfy you!" As he said this, he pushed the woman's body into the attic.

"Guest, what are you doing? Ah… don't do this!" Just as the woman protested, the man crossed his legs and closed the door behind him. His hands were shamelessly grabbing the woman's breasts. The soft, delicate touch almost made the man's nose bleed. Even with his large, rough hands, he couldn't fully grasp the woman's breasts. He could only pinch and knead her flesh with his fingers.

"Don't make a sound if you don't want to die! Just let me have my way, or I'll fuck you to death!" While grabbing the woman's breasts, the man pressed the barrel of his gun against her forehead, threatening her in a vicious voice. As he spoke, he had already wedged his leg between the woman's.

Because of this rough action, the woman completely lost her balance and fell backward onto the floor. But this made things easier for the man. He pressed down on the woman's body, his hand still gripping her breasts. Watching the black veil covering her face rise and fall, feeling the rhythm of her breasts trembling with her rapid breathing, the man revealed a wicked smile.

"That's good enough." He leered, tucking the gunpowder gun back into his belt, then unzipped his pants and pulled out his penis. The sour-smelling shaft, nestled among a tangled mass of pubic hair, slowly rubbed against the woman's snow-white thigh. Because the man's thigh was wedged between her legs, it was impossible for her to close them. At that moment, the man casually grabbed one of her legs and spread them completely apart.

The woman's vulva was now fully visible to him; in the center of her smooth white skin was a slit formed by slightly darker labia. With her thighs spread apart, the slit was forced open slightly, revealing pink, tender flesh within the labia like a flower stamen soaked in dew. Of course, the man had absolutely no artistic imagination; his mind was now filled only with the word "fuck." Swallowing the saliva that almost spilled from his mouth, the man let out a rough "heh heh" sound and thrust his thick penis into the woman's vulva.

"Ahhh!!" The woman screamed pitifully, grabbing the arm of the man's hand that was kneading her breasts, as if trying to push him away. But her strength was no threat to the man; on the contrary, this futile struggle only excited him more.

The woman's vagina tightly enveloped the man's penis, writhing as if alive. From the tip of the glans to the coronal sulcus and then to the base of the shaft, every part seemed to be fused with the walls of her vagina. The slippery sensation layer upon layer, sticky and gentle, rubbing against every part of his penis as the man

thrust his hips. "Ah! So good! This bitch, she's really slutty! This thing!" the man shouted, spitting as he spoke. Under his palm, the woman's nipples were already as hard as rocks. He simply released the woman's hand, grabbing both of her thighs and lifting them up, placing her legs on his shoulders. This caused the woman's waist to naturally rise.

In this way, the man's penis became a complete jackhammer, forcefully pounding downwards into the deepest part of her vagina. The vagina, already tightly gripping the man's penis, seemed to become even hotter; the sticky, folded walls of her vagina seemed to be biting down on it, clinging tightly to his shaft.

However, it couldn't stop the man's rough thrusts, and this tightness gave the man a stimulating sensation, as if someone were pressing down on his penis from all sides, widening the urethral opening; the vas deferens connected to the urethral opening almost trembled.

The "plop plop" sounds weren't just from the man's body hitting the woman; there was also the sound of air being compressed by the violent impact of his penis. The lewd sounds in the air, along with the splattering vaginal fluid, emitted a sweet and sour, fishy smell—the scent of lust.

"No...stop...ah~ ah!! I'm going to die...ah!" Beneath the man, the woman's body began to tremble, emitting groans and pleading sounds. However, compared to the lewd panting and moaning, the woman's pleas seemed so pale. Or rather, because of the black veil, the woman's panting became even heavier, so heavy that it sounded almost like a cry of pleasure.

"Ah~ ah! Ah...no...it's going to split open! I...ah~ ah~! ah!" She shook her head, her hands tightly gripping the man's chest, pressing hard against his body, her nails almost piercing through his clothes. But this was merely stimulating the man's animalistic instincts; his eyes were already bloodshot, his gaping mouth revealing yellowed teeth, exuding an inhuman aura.

"Fuck you! Fuck you, you bitch!" The roaring man thrust his hips forward again, plunging deep into the woman's vagina. His massive penis finally breached the woman's last line of defense, penetrating directly into her uterus. The sensation in his glans was like reaching heaven.

Beneath the man, the woman let out a most pitiful scream.

"Eee!!!" With the final, hoarse scream, the woman tilted her head back, her veil clinging to her face, revealing the almost distorted contours of her features. Breath from her mouth, stretched to its limit, condensed on the veil, and her fingers, clenched into fists, revealed blue veins on her pale skin.

"You enjoyed it, didn't you, you bitch!" the man growled, forcefully pulling out his penis before penetrating her uterus once more. This second wave of stimulation rendered the woman speechless, her body completely engulfed in arrhythmic spasms. Inside her, her body also began to convulse violently, the intense sensation several times stronger than the stimulation from her earlier natural movements. As

a result, a warm current enveloped the man's penis, traveling down to his legs. The woman had reached orgasm, a powerful climax releasing a torrent of vaginal fluid. And it wasn't just this fluid; the pleasure of the man's rough thrusting had driven her to the point of unconsciousness, and in that unconscious state, she had even lost control of her bladder. Hot, wet fluid gushed from the woman's body, soaking the man's trousers.

But at this moment, the man had no energy to concern himself with such trivial matters. His eyes widened. His penis, inside the woman's body, enveloped and impacted by this warm, wet fluid, finally reached its limit. With

just a spasm, a large amount of yellowish-brown semen gushed from the tip of his glans, which had already penetrated the woman's uterus.

The unconscious woman lay beneath the man, her uterus completely filled with his semen, yet she showed no reaction, only a few instinctive twitches. Then, the man, satisfied, withdrew his penis from her body. The instant his glans left her, a large amount of vaginal fluid mixed with his semen flowed from her vagina.

"Damn, you've dirtied my pants." The man cursed under his breath, jerking his penis a few times. He hadn't felt it when he was enjoying himself, but now the sticky feeling on his shaft was very uncomfortable. His gaze naturally fell on the woman's veil. He

figured he might as well have her lick it clean.

With this obvious thought, he yanked off the black veil covering the woman's face. But what he saw almost made his heart stop. Hidden beneath the veil wasn't a terrifying, ugly face; on the contrary, it was a delicate and beautiful face, with slender eyebrows, bright eyes, a straight nose, and small, cherry-like lips. It was definitely the face of a beauty.

However, this face wasn't that of a living person. It was the face of a puppet, sculpted and painted!

... "...The last member of the gang that robbed the gold shop yesterday has been found..." This news came from the radio of a police car parked nearby as police were clearing the scene at a cemetery in the suburbs.

However, what the news didn't report was that when the last person was found, he was already a desiccated corpse, with a look of terror on his face, embracing a cold tombstone. Such news absolutely could not be reported, because it wasn't news, but merely a rumor.

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[Puppet Brothel] [The End]

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