Recipe For a Ruthless Delinquent

Chapter 37 Bet

“Want to make a bet?”

“What?”

“If you follow my advice, I will help you reform and—” she began.

“Shut the hell up, whore,” I barked. “Come and suck my dick or get the hell out of my face, bitch.”

She sighed.

Before I could spit out another curse, she raised two slender fingers right in front of my face.

“Two minutes,” she said, dead calm. “I’ll give you a challenge—an opportunity. You say you have nothing to live for except revenge? Let’s test that. You against me. No weapons. Hand-to-hand combat—just our bodies. If you win… you get two full minutes to do whatever the fuck you want with me. I won’t move. I won’t fight back. I won’t stop you.”

I froze at the sheer absurdity of it. My cock twitched hard under my clothes before my brain even caught up. “The fuck are you saying? If you just want to get fucked, let me out of these straps—I’ll show you right now.”

But she just shook her head. “Take the bet. If I win, you do what I say.”

“You think I’m stupid? Why the fuck would I believe you?” I spat. “You’re not gonna honor shit. It’s a trap. You're just another one of the bitches under that bastard Yoon. You think I’m still some naive little boy—” My voice broke, my entire body shaking with rage.

She leaned in closer until her face was barely an inch from mine. The overhead light glinted off her glasses, her eyes ice-cold and completely solemn.

"I'm being serious," she whispered.

I searched her eyes for a second, looking for any sign of a bluff.

“What’s the catch?” I asked, my voice dropping as I tried to read the madness behind her words.

“If I win,” she said evenly, “you will behave better than you did the first time you served a sentence here. I’ll grant you more freedom, but you stay out of fights. You go back to your studies. You actually try to move on with your life… and you make a genuine effort to be a decent human being. So you can finally find some peace.” She paused, her voice hardening. “And that’s Director to you, boy. I just ascended from Chief.”

I barked a harsh, incredulous laugh. “And what makes you think I’ll follow whatever bullshit you’re spitting? You’ve got way too much confidence in yourself, Chief. Just because I didn’t tear you apart last time doesn’t mean shit.” I sneered. “You really think you’re some untouchable superwoman? Shit, I’m pretty sure you got your job by sitting on a couple of cocks.”

A slow, confident smirk curved her lips. “Try me, boy.”

She stepped back, turned slowly, and gave me the full view. That perfect ass filled my vision like it was carved to ruin me. My mouth went dry. It was the biggest I’d ever seen—that whore Saki, the Fushigi sluts, even that bitch Alessandra… none of them compared.

“Look at it,” she taunted, her voice low and mocking. She shook her hips once. That was all it took for those round cheeks to jiggle enticingly under the tight fabric. “It could be yours for two full minutes.” Her muscles flexed and released with a commanding rhythm, shifting and clenching through nothing but raw physical power. “You could grope it, bite it, spread it open… who knows? In two minutes, you might even manage to stick it in and make the most of it.” Her eyes flicked back over her shoulder, gleaming with challenge. “If you promise to honor the bet… and if you’ve got the guts, of course. All that big talk earlier—let’s see if you can back it up, boy.”

“Fuck… fuck…” I growled, my eyes wild, cock straining painfully to burst. Saliva dripped from my lips. My rational brain was entirely gone—nothing left but the feral need to wreck her. “I’m gonna fuck you up so bad you’ll be begging for more. Untie me right now. Let me eat that ass. Let me bury myself balls-deep and glaze you until you’re dripping. Fuck that—I’ll knock you up and make you mine. Nobody else’s. Ever! That fucking doctor doesn’t know shit! I’ll prove it! I’ll impregnate you!”

She didn’t answer. She just walked over and calmly unlatched the restraints.

The second the buckles popped, I ripped the rest off like paper, snarling, my teeth snapping at open air. My wrists burned where the canvas had rubbed them raw. My heart hammered against my ribs. I was ready to pounce and bury myself straight into her.

But she was already turning toward the door, stepping out into the hall without even looking back.

“This room’s too small,” she called over her shoulder, her voice as cool as ever. “Not enough space for a real fight. Follow me. My office.”

An internal alarm bell rang in the back of my head.

I hesitated for half a second, then followed her out. There were no Instructors anywhere in the hallway. For one brief, stupid heartbeat, a wild thought flashed through my mind: bolt, grab her, use that tight body as a human shield, and escape from this place. But I wasn’t that dumb. They’d drop me before I took three steps.

We passed through the security door. Her two usual guard dogs appeared like statues, standing motionless, their eyes drilling holes into me.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” I sneered.

“Drop it,” she muttered. They stepped aside without a word.

The door hissed shut behind us. My gaze stayed locked on the sway of those perfect buns the entire way down the hall, her heels clicking against the floor like a ticking countdown. She stopped at the final door, where a polished plaque gleamed under the lights: DIRECTOR SHINDO HIBIKI.

"Shindo. The name rang a bell, but where had I heard it before? I chuckled to myself. Who cares. It probably just stands for the tremors she causes every time she takes a step with that gigantic ass."

She finally pushed the door open and stepped inside. I followed.

Her office. I’d never been in here before. I immediately closed the door and threw the deadbolt, scanning every corner for traps. But the room was clean—a long sofa against one wall, a heavy desk and computer on the other, and a wide, open space in the middle with at least two meters of clearance. Perfect fighting room. Or breeding room.

I couldn’t stop staring at her body like a starving, rabid dog. I rubbed my erection through my pants. “My cock is waiting,” I rasped.

She looked at me over her shoulder and walked straight to the desk. She shrugged off her suit blazer and tossed it over the chair, then her fingers went to the buttons of her white collared shirt. She peeled it off without ceremony, leaving her in only a tight white tank top. The thin fabric clung to her chest, revealing that she was almost completely flat.

“Shit, Chief,” I scoffed, disappointment flickering through my lust. “I’d been sure you were hiding a decent pair of tits under all that professional armor you always wear. You’re flat as a board. Still…” I licked my lips, already lowering my zipper and pulling out my erect cock. I flicked it with one hand, showing her what she was about to deal with. “Your future owner is right here.”

She didn’t even blink.

“Wait one moment,” she said, dropping into her chair. She kicked off her heels, letting them clatter to the floor. "And I'm Director now, I told you." My eyes dragged over her bare feet, her small, soft toes flexing against the cool tile. I stroked my cock slowly, a predatory grin spreading across my face.

“Come on, don’t keep me waiting, honey,” I growled with anticipation.

She stood up and walked calmly into the center of the open space.

This bitch… I had to hand it to her—she was confident as hell. But size and weight were on my side, and I’d already beaten fighters way bigger than me. I wiped my chin with my thumb. In my head the scene was already playing out: I’d rush her, slam her to the floor, rip her pants and panties off in one pull, pin those thick thunder thighs wide open, and drop my full weight on her, burying my cock raw until the only thing she could scream was my name. Fuck the two minutes. I’m fucking until I’m dead.

“Ready, Chief?” My voice trembled with hunger.

She dropped into a perfect fighting stance, hands up, eyes locked onto mine with the cold precision of someone who had done this a thousand times.

I lunged fast, my hands slicing straight for her. She spun—a blur of motion, like she was loading a turning kick. Ha, dumb woman, I thought, raising my arms to catch her leg and slam her ass to the floor.

But she never finished the kick. A feint. I was already committed, my momentum carrying me forward. It didn't matter; there was no way she could stop me.

Thud.

I crashed face-first into the floor. What the fuck? How?

Her legs had snapped around my right arm like steel cables, her ass planted heavy on my shoulder, yanking my limb toward her chest. An armbar. She cranked it hard.

“Shit—!” Pain exploded up my arm like liquid fire—my previously injured arm. I bucked and rolled, trying to throw her off, but she twisted with me, glued tight, her thighs squeezing with enough pressure to pop my elbow out of its socket. I swung my free hand down, clawing blindly for her chest—nothing but tight, hard muscle under that thin tank top. Really flat as a board. It didn't matter; I still wanted to bite it, to draw blood.

“Come on, give up, Iryoku,” she said, her voice calm, even while she was breaking me. “Or do you want a broken arm?”

I fought against the pressure, my erect cock still throbbing hard—until crack.

White-hot agony ripped through my limb. She let go, slipping back.

“Now that you’ve lost—” she started.

I wasn’t done. I surged up with my good arm, my right hanging useless, and grabbed for her. She let me. In a flash, her legs locked around my torso, her arms hooked behind my neck, choking me tight. My face buried into her chest. I slammed us both into the ground, trying to crush her underneath my weight. You’re mine, you’re fucking mine! My left hand gripped her left ass cheek, my fingers digging in, trying to pierce through the fabric.

I breathed in deep, filling my lungs with her feminine scent as I gripped harder. My mouth caught her tank top. I pulled on it and ripped it open immediately, burying my face against her again.

My mouth latched onto something soft—a nipple. She glared down at me. I stared up at her face for a second, shamelessly, in a daze, as I sucked even harder on her tit.

But she slipped the hold like water and spun. Before I could react, she locked another armbar—this time on my left. My good one. She put all her weight behind it, cranking it viciously.

“Shit… why…” I gasped, my teeth gritted, my vision beginning to fade.

“Give up already,” she commanded.

I didn't listen. I thrashed like a trapped beast, bucking and kicking, trying to smash my heel into her knee, her thigh—anything I could reach to break her hold. But she was immovable. My good arm clawed at empty air, flailing uselessly while the other hung limp, screaming with agony.

"Not until I impregnate you!"

I roared, pouring every last drop of strength into one final, desperate twist—

Crack.

She released the hold and stood up.

Sweat had soaked through her white tank top, plastering the thin fabric to her chest and highlighting every hard line of her toned stomach. A jagged rip in the fabric exposed a pink nipple. Her breathing was heavy, her chest rising and falling, but her eyes remained ice-cold as she loomed over me.

“Now… behave from now on,” she said, her voice low and weary.

She turned, walked back to the desk, and shrugged her shirt and blazer back on with slow, deliberate movements. She stepped into her heels, dropped heavily into the chair, and exhaled—a long, shaky breath that suggested the fight had actually cost her something.

I lay on the cold floor, chest heaving, my cock still fully erect as black spots swirled at the edges of my vision. My arms felt like they’d been ripped from their sockets. Pain pulsed in hot, rhythmic waves all the way up to my neck.

“That was actually kind of cool,” I muttered through gritted teeth, forcing a broken, bloody grin. “I did manage to grope that giant, perfect ass of yours…and get a second of sucking on that flat little chest. Still counts, doesn’t it?”

She frowned, clearly not amused.

Without another word, she picked up the phone on her desk. “Come here,” she said, her voice perfectly calm. “The boy needs a doctor. He… fell on himself.”

The second the instructors dragged that feral animal out of my office, I locked the door with a sharp click and let my body collapse into the desk chair.

“Ah… ah… fuck,” I breathed, completely drained. One wrong move during that fight and he would have raped me right there on the floor. I knew it in my bones.

Shaky fingers worked the buttons of my shirt as I shrugged off the blazer, finally pulling away the sweat-soaked, ripped tank top. The movement was pure agony. A deep purple bruise had already bloomed across my chest where his nails had dug in, and raw, red bite marks crowned my aureola. I winced, gingerly pressing the tender skin, before tossing the pile of discarded clothes onto the desk.

“This guy really doesn’t pull his punches… even with a woman,” I muttered bitterly. My breath hitched as I traced the jagged mark. My lip trembled for a second and a small sob slipped out before I immediately sucked it back in. “That asshole did suck on it… but when exactly did he even manage to bite me?”

Why the hell did I make that stupid bet? It was completely out of line. If he ever talks about what happened in here, this could get me fired—or worse.

I yanked open the top drawer, pulled out a cigarette, and stuck it between my lips. The quick flick of the lighter, then that first deep drag…

“Uff… that hits the spot.”

I leaned back, naked from the waist up, but hissed in pain the moment my rear touched the seat. “Augh…” My ass throbbed with a deep, sickening ache. I stripped off the rest of my clothes and checked myself in the small mirror I kept in my purse. The bastard had gripped me hard enough to leave a clear handprint on my ass. Crazy, perverted dumb boy, I thought, lip curling. He doesn’t have the first clue how to handle a lady.

I let the cool leather press against the battered skin of my body, trying to find a position that didn't scream in agony. The total damage was extensive. Alongside my breast and ass, I gingerly checked my left arm—another ugly discoloration was forming just above the elbow—and my wrist was rapidly turning a deep, pulsating purple where he’d tried to wrench it apart.

“Shit,” I muttered, taking another long, shaky drag of the cigarette as I stared at the carnage on my own body. “All of this from one stupid scuffle. I really can’t do this again. If I face him again, he’ll really rape me.”

I opened my eyes and watched the smoke curl toward the harsh fluorescent lights.

Reaching across the desk, I picked up a picture frame that had been lying face-down.

I stared at the face in the photograph, the cigarette growing heavy between my fingers, then pressed it into the ashtray and put it out.

“Tell me,” I whispered, my voice thick with sudden, overwhelming exhaustion. “If you were standing here… what would you have done to help him?”