The Innocent Beast

Section 1: One Shift Was Enough

The bathroom door swung open with a soft squeak, releasing a cloud of steam into the living room.

The young woman stepped out barefoot, her damp hair clinging loosely to her neck. A white bath towel was wrapped tightly around her body, tucked beneath her arms and barely reaching mid-thigh. She walked with a slight limp, each step a little uneven, as though her hips and thighs were still sore from an exhausting workout.

Except she hadn’t been anywhere near a gym last night.

She adjusted the towel slightly as she crossed the room, then dropped onto the couch beside her mother, who was sitting comfortably in pajamas, half-watching TV while peeling an orange.

The girl let out a long sigh. “I quit.”

Her mother didn’t look away from the television. “The job?”

“Yeah. I quit being a professional prostitute.”

Her mother finally turned her head and gave her daughter a brief glance before calmly returning to her orange, as though she had just been told her daughter had quit an ordinary part-time job. “That fast?”

“Mm-hmm. One shift.”

Her mother peeled off another slice of orange. “Are you sure? You know how hard it is to land a position like that? Those interviews aren’t easy. It’s competitive. And you passed.”

She pulled the towel a little tighter around her chest and leaned back against the couch. “I thought it’d be easy money. Thirty, forty grand a month? But after one night, I was done. It was way more exhausting than I expected. And… something about it just didn’t feel right.”

Her mother nodded, completely unfazed. “Then don’t go back.” She held out a slice of orange to her daughter. “You’re young. Try things. If something isn’t right for you, move on.”

The girl took the orange and gave a small nod. “Yeah.”

After a moment, she brushed her damp hair back over her shoulder. “I mean… I do have a master’s degree in accounting. Maybe I should just start applying for some low-paying desk jobs like everyone else.”

Her mother sighed softly. “That’d be a waste of your beauty.”

The girl gave her a small, awkward smile, not quite sure how to respond. Her mother casually peeled another slice of orange. “So… what happened last night?”

The smile faded from the girl’s face. For a moment, she said nothing. She simply stared ahead as the memories of the night before came flooding back. Outside, thunder rumbled across the sky.

Back to the night before.

Section 2: A Rainy Night at the Massage Parlor

Rain hammered against the windows of a small massage parlor in Flushing City, while flashes of lightning briefly illuminated the empty street outside. The young woman stood near the window in a thin robe, quietly watching the storm.

There wasn’t a single person outside. No cars. No footsteps. Nothing but wind and rain. It looked as though the entire city had emptied itself out.

Then, without warning, a man came flying across the street.

His body skimmed across the rain-soaked asphalt at full speed before hitting a wide puddle. Water exploded outward on both sides, spraying across the road like a car tearing through standing water. He kept sliding until his back slammed into a utility pole with a heavy thud.

It was Chief Grayson.

He sat half-slumped against the pole in his drenched police uniform, completely dazed. The storm had destroyed his infamous combover. Long strands of hair that had once been carefully swept across his head now hung over his face like dead seaweed.

Less than a second later, another figure calmly stepped into view: white button-up shirt, golden-rimmed glasses, briefcase in one hand, the other still clenched into a fist.

It was Captain Lam, Michael, one of the high-ranking executioners of the Humble Organization.

From the second-floor window of the massage parlor, the young woman looked down at the two men in the pouring rain. The storm was so loud that she couldn’t hear a word they were saying—only the occasional muffled shout beneath the pounding rain.

“Seriously? Messing around outside in weather like this?” she muttered. “Those two really do need to get a job.”

Down on the street, Grayson threw up both hands in panic. “Please! Please don’t hurt me!”

Michael walked toward him through the pouring rain, his voice calm and cold. “You tried to enjoy a premium sex service without paying. And it’s not like you don’t have the money.”

He adjusted his golden-rimmed glasses. “The service fee is $150. Another $150 for wasting my time. That brings your total to $300.”

Grayson blinked at him. “Three hundred?! Isn’t that a bit much?”

Michael didn’t answer. He simply pointed toward a headless body lying face-down in the rain a few feet away. “That guy only owed us seventy dollars.”

Grayson followed Michael’s finger. The moment he saw the headless body, his face went pale. A warm stream ran down the inside of his pants, but fortunately for Grayson, the rain was pouring so hard that there was no way anyone could tell.

Michael turned back to him, as calm as ever. “You’re lucky you’re the police chief. That’s the only reason I’m going easy on you.”

He reached down, grabbed a long strand of Grayson’s ruined combover, and yanked him upright like a piece of wet laundry. “That’s why your head’s still attached.”

“AAAH! Wait, wait!” Grayson grabbed desperately at his hair. “Careful with that! I only have two sides left!”

Michael stared at him blankly.

Grayson trembled as he dug into his pocket and pulled out a wad of rain-soaked cash. With shaking hands, he counted out three hundred dollars and handed it to Michael.

Michael calmly took the money and tossed Grayson back onto the ground. Then he turned and walked away through the pouring rain, his left hand tucked into his pocket and his briefcase hanging from his right hand.

Section 3: The Sneaky Granny

The storm was still raging outside.

Marvel stood beneath a black umbrella across the street from the massage parlor, staring up at the glowing sign on the second floor. He wore his usual Zhongshan suit, buttoned neatly all the way to the top. His round glasses were speckled with rain, and his carefully middle-parted hair remained almost perfectly in place beneath the umbrella.

For several seconds, he simply stood there, hesitating, until a poster taped beside the entrance to the stairway caught his attention.

BEWARE OF “THE SNEAKY GRANNY”

NOTORIOUS PICKPOCKET — EXTREMELY AGILE

DON’T BE FOOLED BY HER APPEARANCE.

Below the warning was a photograph of a harmless-looking old woman with gray hair and a wrinkled face.

Marvel recognized her instantly.

A few days earlier, Marvel had gone to The Forbidden Garden with a thousand dollars in his pocket and one very specific goal in mind: Linda, the best prostitute in the house. Unfortunately, Linda was fully booked, and the earliest available appointment was a week away.

Disappointed, Marvel left The Forbidden Garden with the entire thousand dollars still in his pocket. On his way home, he noticed an old woman lying on the sidewalk near a crosswalk.

Being the good boy he was, he immediately hurried over to help her. “Ma’am, are… are you okay?”

The old woman slowly raised her head and reached out a trembling hand. Marvel took it and carefully helped her back onto her feet.

As Marvel helped her up, he heard a faint ripping sound from somewhere near his jacket.

Rrrip.

He glanced down for a moment, but didn’t notice anything unusual. “Here… here. I can… I can help you across the street.”

“It’s quite all right, kind sir,” the old woman said in a frail voice. “This old lady can manage.”

“O… okay. Be… be careful.”

Marvel turned and started walking away. A few steps later, he casually glanced back.

The old woman was already halfway across the street, her tiny feet shuffling so fast they were almost a blur.

Marvel stopped, his eyes widening in disbelief. Almost absentmindedly, he reached into his pocket. His fingers went straight through a clean slit in the fabric.

The thousand dollars was gone.

Marvel’s face went pale. “Oh… oh, Jesus Christ! You… you rotten old lady!” He immediately took off after her.

The old woman glanced over her shoulder. The moment she saw Marvel coming, she dropped onto all fours and took off like a dog. Her hands and feet slapped against the pavement as she tore down the sidewalk at an unbelievable speed.

Without slowing down, she sprang onto a roadside utility box nearly six feet off the ground, then launched herself onto an air-conditioning unit mounted outside a nearby apartment building.

With one final leap, the old woman landed on the roof of the four-story building. She scrambled across it on all fours and disappeared over the other side.

Marvel could only stand there, staring up at the rooftop. “Oh… unbelievable. I… I never knew an old lady could… could be this agile.”

Back in the present, Marvel looked at the poster again. So that was the infamous Sneaky Granny.

He let out a quiet sigh, then turned his attention back to the stairway leading up to the massage parlor. After losing that thousand dollars, Marvel didn’t have much money left for the month.

He had already made up his mind before coming here. He would go upstairs, enjoy the service, and leave without paying.

In short, dine and dash—or rather, sex and dash.

Section 4: A Change of Plans

Marvel took a deep breath and started toward the stairway, but something across the street caught his attention.

Chief Grayson was sitting against a utility pole in the pouring rain, while Michael stood over him with his briefcase in hand. Marvel stopped and quietly watched.

He couldn’t hear much through the pounding rain, but he quickly understood what was happening. Then Michael pointed toward the headless body lying nearby.

Marvel’s eyes widened, and his legs nearly gave out beneath him.

He immediately abandoned his original plan, turned around, and walked away from the massage parlor.

About thirty minutes later, he returned through the pouring rain with the same black umbrella over his head—and a white envelope containing enough cash to pay for the service.

This time, Marvel was ready to pay.

Section 5: The First Customer

Marvel climbed the stairs and stepped into the massage parlor.

The young woman looked up as he entered. It was her first day on the job, and Marvel was her very first customer, so she was especially eager to make a good impression. She quickly greeted him with her warmest smile.

“Welcome. What kind of service are you looking for tonight?”

Marvel adjusted his round glasses. “I… I’d like the premium… premium sex service, please.”

The young woman gave him a quick look from head to toe. Something about his stiff posture, nervous expression, and carefully buttoned Zhongshan suit made him seem unusually innocent.

“But this is your first time.” She smiled. “You’re still a virgin, aren’t you?”

Marvel immediately stiffened, his eyes widening behind his round glasses. “I… I… how… how did you know?”

The young woman suddenly realized she might have embarrassed him. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot,” she said gently. “But don’t worry. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Marvel adjusted his glasses. “Um… how much is… is the premium service? I… I only have a… a hundred dollars with me.”

“It’s normally one hundred and fifty.” She paused and looked Marvel over again. The poor guy was obviously nervous about being a virgin. After a moment, she smiled. “All right. A hundred dollars. Just for you, and just this once.”

Marvel blushed, looking as nervous as a little boy as the young woman gently took him by the hand. “Come with me.”

She led him down the hallway and into one of the private rooms.

Section 6: The Beast Awakens

The room was dimly lit, washed in deep shades of red and purple that gave everything a hazy, almost dreamlike glow.

Marvel sat stiffly on the edge of the massage bed, nervously rubbing his fingers together in his lap. He swallowed hard, his eyes wandering around the room as though he had suddenly forgotten what he was supposed to do.

“Relax,” the young woman said with a reassuring smile. “We’re just here to have a good time.”

As she spoke, she loosened her robe and let it slip away. Then she stepped closer, wrapped both arms around Marvel’s head, and gently pulled him against her chest.

“Silly little boy,” she murmured.

Marvel went completely still. Surrounded by that unexpected softness and warmth, he could feel his heartbeat accelerating wildly. Adrenaline surged through his entire body, climbing higher and higher until it felt almost beyond anything a normal human body should have been able to handle.

Marvel’s entire body suddenly tensed. Every muscle tightened beneath his Zhongshan suit. His back straightened, his breathing grew heavier, and something almost beastlike seemed to awaken behind his eyes.

Then came the violent sound of fabric ripping apart.

Marvel’s dick had gotten so stiff and so hard that it poked straight through the front of his pants with enormous force.

At this point, Marvel couldn’t even be bothered to take his clothes off.

The young woman stared down at the damage, then slowly looked back up at him. The shy little virgin from ten seconds ago seemed to have vanished.

Before she could react, Marvel swept her into his arms and tossed her onto the massage bed. A second later, he was over her.

MACHINE GUN LICK!

Marvel’s tongue flicked and wiggled with the speed of a snake, attacking with such ridiculous intensity that the young woman could barely understand what had happened to him.

And from there, things escalated very quickly.

The young woman soon discovered something even more confusing: Marvel might have claimed this was his first time, but absolutely nothing about his performance felt like a first time.

Marvel had been telling the truth. He really was a virgin.

What she didn’t know was that Marvel had spent more than twenty years accumulating an absolutely unreasonable amount of theoretical knowledge from adult films. And now, for the first time in his life, every last bit of that knowledge was being unleashed in the real world.

The timid little boy was gone, and the beast had awakened.

A slow, steady rhythm began to echo through the room.

Chug… chug… chug…

The massage bed began to shake beneath them, its rhythmic creaking sounding almost like the pistons of an old steam train slowly gathering speed.

MACHINE GUN FUCK!

The rhythm instantly accelerated, and the entire massage bed began rattling like a train charging down the tracks at full speed.

The relentless pace continued for the next seven or eight hours without slowing down.

Eventually, one corner of the massage bed finally gave out with a loud CRACK! The entire bed tilted sideways, sending Marvel and the young woman sliding toward the floor together.

And at that exact moment came Marvel’s final finishing move—

KAMEHAMEHA!

For one glorious instant, Marvel’s consciousness seemed to transcend the mortal world. Before his eyes stretched the Infinite Void of the vast universe—countless stars and galaxies drifting through eternity, life endlessly beginning, fading, and beginning again.

And somewhere beyond it all, Marvel felt as though he had glimpsed the very origin of life itself.

Then they crashed onto the floor in a tangled heap.

Section 7: An Unforgettable Night

Later that night, Marvel sat alone at his desk, carefully writing down everything that had happened.

It had been his first time, and to Marvel, it was a memory he would cherish for the rest of his life. He wrote down every detail he could remember, determined never to let the moment fade.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, the young woman stood by her bedroom window, one hand pressed against her aching waist. Her hips and thighs were so sore that even walking normally had become a challenge.

She stared silently out at the city lights.

“There’s no way he’s a virgin.”

What hurt her most wasn’t the seven or eight hours of physical torment. It was the emotional pain of realizing that she had been deceived.

She stared out the window for a long moment before finally making up her mind.

“I’m quitting this profession. Indefinitely.”