A strange, indescribable feeling churns inside Ken. He's back in the circle. He's got his access, his secrets safe. But the price… the price is the image of his beautiful sister, Riko, exposed and vulnerable, sent to Hiro. A wave of sickening triumph washes over him, immediately followed by a deep, gnawing sense of shame. He knows it's wrong, a betrayal of the worst kind, but he can't deny the perverse thrill that still pulses through him. He's in a trap, he realizes, but it's a trap he finds himself strangely unwilling to escape from. The forbidden fruits of his actions are intoxicating.
A soft knock pulls him from his dark thoughts, followed by a sweet, familiar voice. "Ken-kun? Can I come in?" It's Sumi.
He feels a jolt, a sudden awareness of her presence. "Yeah, come in," he calls out, his voice a little rougher than he intends.
The door creaks open, and Sumi steps inside, radiating an innocent warmth. She's wearing a thin, summery blouse that's almost translucent in places, and a pair of short shorts that barely reach her mid-thigh. It's her usual casual attire, but tonight, Ken's vision is different, tainted by the crude observations he's absorbed from Hiro and the other guys.
He sees her not just as his little sister, but as a young woman blossoming under the harsh, scrutinizing gaze of the world. Her breasts, still developing, press gently against the thin fabric of her blouse, their growing fullness undeniable. He notices the subtle sway of her hips as she moves, the way the short shorts reveal the soft curve of her thighs, hinting at a nascent sensuality he's never truly acknowledged before. Her bare legs, slender and smooth, lead his gaze down to her small feet.
There's an innocence in her posture, a sweetness in her smile, but Ken's mind, now warped, overlays it with the lustful whispers of others. He sees the way her blouse stretches, revealing the hint of her tiny bra strap, and imagines the hungry eyes of the boys at school. He pictures the curve of her buttocks in those shorts, a subtle roundness that promises future curves, and hears the lewd comments he's tried so hard to ignore.
"Hey Sumi, what do you need?" Ken asks, trying to sound casual, but his eyes are still lingering on the way her thin blouse stretches across her chest.
Sumi beams at him, her innocence almost painful to witness. "Oh, Ken-kun! I just came to thank you for yesterday! You were a lifesaver!" She bounces slightly on the balls of her feet, making her short shorts ride up just a little higher on her thighs.
Ken feels a cold knot tighten in his stomach. He knows exactly what she's talking about. He'd seen illicit photos of Sumi in the secret group, the threads, the comments, the desires for her young body in that barely-there fabric.
Ken forces a small, tight smile. "Yeah, well, I just had a feeling you might need some backup," he mumbles, his mind still lingering on the thought of Sumi, his sweet, innocent sister, in that "nude-like leotard." He imagines the fabric clinging to her budding curves, highlighting her small breasts and the delicate swell of her hips. A strange, uncomfortable heat spreads through his body.
Ken gestures to the spot beside him on the bed. "Come on, sit here, Sumi. Tell me everything. How exactly was the photoshoot going? And what was Hiro doing? Was it just the two of you there?" He tries to keep his voice calm, casual, but inside, his pulse races. He needs to hear it all, to have her innocent words confirm the sordid details he already knows.
Sumi, ever the affectionate little sister, shuffles closer, her hip brushing against his. Her closeness sends a jolt through him, a strange mix of brotherly affection and the perverse awareness he's now burdened with. She's a bit clingy, always has been, and in this moment, he lets her lean into him, savoring the innocent contact even as his mind spins with dark thoughts.
She fidgets with the hem of her short shorts, a shy blush creeping up her neck. "Well, it started out really normal, Ken-kun," she begins, her voice soft. "Just me in my school uniform, you know? Hiro-kun was mostly just setting up the lights and telling me where to stand."
He nods, urging her on. "And then?"
Her blush deepens. "Then… he asked me to change. He said it was for a 'sport theme.' But the outfit… it wasn't really for sport." She glances up at him, her eyes wide and a little unsure. "It was this… leotard. Really tight. And... thin." She gestures vaguely at her chest. "It covered but also showed…almost everything. I felt really exposed."
Ken's groin tightens, a familiar ache starting to build. He remembers the forum comments, the hungry eyes, the crude discussions of her developing body in that exact outfit. He already knows how "exposed" she felt, how transparent the fabric became under the lights. He knows how it clung to her small breasts, how it outlined the delicate curve of her young ass. He can practically see the camel toe the other guys had obsessed over.
"And just Hiro?" he prompts gently, pushing for the details of their solitude.
Sumi nods, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "Yeah, just us. He kept saying how 'natural' I looked, and how important it was to capture the 'real me.' He kept adjusting the lights, and… he would touch my back, or my arm, to move me into poses. It felt… weird. Like he was looking through my clothes, not just at them." She shivers slightly. "And that leotard… it was so thin, I could feel the air on my skin everywhere."
He watches her innocent face, her honest, slightly embarrassed confession, and a strange, hot wave of desire washes over him. He knew it all, but hearing it from her, so vulnerable and trusting, makes the images in his head even more vivid, more real, and infinitely more disturbing.
"Did Hiro… touch you, Sumi?" Ken asks, his voice a low rumble, trying to sound concerned but barely concealing a darker, probing curiosity. His eyes subtly flick to her chest, then quickly away, trying to mimic a casual glance while his mind imagines Hiro's hands on her. "Like, did he ever... linger a bit? Or look at you in a weird way? You know, like some guys do when they're... checking you out?" He watches her face, searching for any flicker of the lust he knows Hiro harbored.
Sumi blushes even deeper, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shorts. "Well... sometimes," she admits, her voice barely a whisper. "His hands would, like, stay on my shoulder a little too long when he was telling me to turn. And sometimes... he'd touch my back, like he was smoothing out the leotard, but his fingers would go... lower." She shivers, a memory of unwelcome contact. "And his eyes, Ken-kun... sometimes he would look at my... you know..." She gestures vaguely towards her chest and then lower, her face burning. "Like he was trying to see through the fabric. He kept saying things like, 'You have such a beautiful figure, Sumi-chan. So innocent, so pure. It's almost a shame to cover it up.'"
A hot, almost painful knot tightens in Ken's groin. He pictures Hiro's hands, crude and invasive, lingering on Sumi's young, developing body. He imagines those leering eyes, devouring her small breasts, her tight little ass, every innocent curve exposed by the thin fabric of that leotard. He can almost hear Hiro's sleazy voice whispering those words, dripping with a perverted appreciation for her youthful purity.
Then, unable to help himself, driven by a perverse combination of jealousy and a burgeoning, forbidden desire, Ken pushes it further. "I bet you looked amazing though, Sumi," he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost coaxing. He leans in slightly, his gaze fixed on her. "I mean, in that leotard. You'd be... really beautiful. I almost wish I could have seen it."
Sumi's eyes widen, and her whole face turns a brilliant shade of crimson. Her head drops, and she buries her face in her hands, a shy, embarrassed giggle escaping her lips. "Ken-kun! Don't say that!" she protests, but there's a nervous flutter in her voice, a hint of something more than just embarrassment. She's flustered, undeniably, by his words, by the raw desire he barely masks. Her reaction, her bashful heat, only fuels the dark fire igniting within him.
"No, really, Sumi," Ken presses, his voice dropping to a low, almost husky murmur. He reaches out, his fingers lightly touching her arm. "You're getting so... beautiful. More beautiful than before." He lets his gaze linger on her, taking in the soft blush that spreads across her cheeks, the way her eyes flutter shyly. He knows his words are doing more than just complimenting; they're stroking a nascent vanity, awakening a new awareness within her.
Sumi pulls her hands from her face, her eyes still downcast, but a small, hesitant smile plays on her lips. "Ken-kun..." she whispers, clearly flustered but not pulling away.
"So," he continues, his voice now a soft coaxing, "how did it feel when Hiro was... doing all that? Touching you, looking at you like that? When you were in that leotard?" He watches her closely, searching for the raw, unadulterated response he anticipates.
Sumi shifts, a subtle tremor running through her. Her brow furrows, a genuine confusion clouding her innocent features. "It felt... uncomfortable, Ken-kun," she admits, her voice hushed. "Like... I didn't want him to touch me. But then..." She trails off, her gaze unfocused, as if trying to grasp a feeling she can't quite articulate. "There was this other feeling. Like... I don't know. Kind of... warm, maybe? And a little bit... strange." She hesitates, then looks at him, her eyes wide with a perplexing innocence. "Is that weird?"
Ken's heart pounds in his chest. He recognizes it. That nascent stir of erotica, the budding awareness of her own body's power and vulnerability, a feeling she's too innocent to name. She's describing the uncomfortable brush of unwelcome arousal, the confusion of her body's response betraying her mind's revulsion. It's the same feeling he's grappling with himself, only her experience is forced, exploited.
"No, it's not weird, Sumi," he murmurs, his voice carefully neutral, even as his groin tightens with a shameful understanding. He forces himself to push further. "And what about... what other people say about you, Sumi? Have you heard anything? Like, about how you're changing, or how you look?"
Sumi blushes again, ducking her head. "Oh, just... little things," she mumbles, her voice barely audible. "Sometimes in the hallways, I hear guys talking. Like, 'Wow, Sumi's really grown up this year.' Or, 'Her tits are getting bigger, huh?' And some of them laugh. And... and once I heard someone say my shorts were getting 'too tight' around my ass." She glances up at him, her eyes wide and vulnerable. "It makes me feel really shy, Ken-kun.
"No, Sumi, don't be shy about it," Ken says, his voice soft but firm, trying to inject confidence into her. "They're just noticing how you're changing, how you're... growing up. They're talking about how beautiful you are now, and they're not wrong." He feels a strange twist in his gut saying this, knowing he's both reassuring her and subtly, dangerously, reinforcing the very gaze that makes her uncomfortable. "You should just ignore them, or own it. It's the truth." He lets his eyes linger on her for a moment, a subtle, admiring glance that she catches, making her blush deepen.
Then, he shifts gears, pushing for more information. "So, about this next photoshoot," he asks, trying to make it sound like casual curiosity, though his heart pounds. "Is it going to be like the last one? With just Hiro?"
Sumi shakes her head, a hopeful sparkle in her eyes. "Oh no, Ken-kun! This one's the real deal! It's on the weekend, and it's with a professional team, apparently. Not just Hiro-kun. He said it's a big opportunity, maybe even a chance to get into real modeling!" She claps her hands together softly, genuinely excited. "I think it'll be fine. A professional team means it'll be... well, professional, right?"
A cold dread washes over Ken. Professional team. He immediately pictures more cameras, more lenses, more eyes. He knows, with a sickening certainty, that Hiro is setting her up, building her up for something far more exploitative. The "real modeling world" Hiro is talking about is nothing but a euphemism for a darker, more predatory industry. He wants to warn her, to scream at her to stop, but he can't. He's trapped, and so is she.
"Hey, Sumi," he says, forcing a warm, reassuring tone, "look, no matter what happens with the photoshoot, or anything else, okay? You can always talk to me. Anything at all. If you ever feel uncomfortable, or weird about something, you can tell me. Whatever you want to tell, just tell me." He gives her a sincere look, wanting to convey a safety he's not sure he can provide anymore.
Sumi smiles, a genuine, trusting smile that tugs at his heart. "Thanks, Ken-kun! You're the best brother!" She leans over and gives him a quick, affectionate squeeze, her soft, young breasts pressing momentarily against his arm. Her short shorts ride up even higher as she shifts, offering a fleeting, innocent view of her round ass.
"Well, I better go. I have some homework to finish before the weekend!" she says, and with a cheerful wave, she slips out of his room, leaving Ken alone with his gnawing fear, his conflicted desires, and the terrifying knowledge of the trap she's unknowingly walking into.