The Devil's Sermon: My Wife Was Programmed to Be a Slave

The Holy Milk

A few weeks had passed since that perfect morning of domestic bliss, and the harmony in Han Ji-woon's home began to show the first tiny cracks. It started with small things — a strange phone call Rike received late at night when she thought no one was listening, a distant look in her eyes when she thought no one was watching, and the way she sometimes lingered in prayer longer than usual, her lips moving silently as if confessing something only she could hear.

Ji-woon noticed these changes, but he brushed them off as stress from her church duties. Suster Rike was still the perfect wife. Every night she welcomed him with open arms and an even more open body. Her milk flowed more abundantly lately, as if her body was preparing for something bigger, something deeper. The taste was sweeter, richer, and it always left Ji-woon feeling both satisfied and strangely addicted.

One evening, after Park Soo-yeon and Kim Min-ji had gone to bed, Rike took Ji-woon by the hand and led him to the small private chapel they had built in the far corner of the villa. The room was dimly lit by flickering candles, the air thick with the scent of incense and polished wood. A small statue of the Virgin Mary watched over them from the altar.

"Ji-woon," she said, her voice unusually serious as she knelt in front of the small altar. "I need to confess something to you. Not as your wife, but as a woman who once dedicated her life to God."

Ji-woon sat on the wooden bench, his heart beating faster. "What is it, Rike? You know you can tell me anything."

Rike lifted her head, her beautiful face illuminated by the candlelight. Her eyes, usually filled with gentle love, now held a shadow of something darker — fear, guilt, and perhaps a hint of forbidden excitement.

"Someone from my past contacted me today," she whispered. "A man I knew before I left the convent. He says he wants to meet me... for old times' sake."

Ji-woon felt a sharp pang of jealousy twist in his chest. "Who is he?"

"His name is Pastor Choi Kang-soo," Rike whispered. "He was my superior in the convent. He... helped me a lot back then. He was like a father figure... or something more."

The way she said "something more" made Ji-woon uneasy. There was something in her voice — a mix of fear and something darker, something almost excited. It was the first time he had ever heard that tone from his holy wife.

That night, their lovemaking was more intense than usual. Rike rode him with desperate hunger, her heavy breasts bouncing wildly as she moaned louder than ever before. "Ji-woon... f**k me harder," she gasped, her nails digging into his chest. "Make me forget... make Mama yours completely. Fill me until I can't think of anything else."

Ji-woon thrust up into her with all his strength, watching as milk leaked from her n*****s and dripped onto his body. Rike came with a loud cry, her body shaking violently. But even in the afterglow, Ji-woon could see the shadow in her eyes. It was the beginning of something he couldn't yet understand.

The next day, Rike received another call. This time, she didn't hide it. "He wants to meet me at the old chapel near the main cathedral," she told Ji-woon, her voice trembling slightly. "I think I should go. For closure. To finally close that chapter of my life."

Ji-woon agreed, though something in his gut told him this was the beginning of something dangerous. He trusted Rike. She was his holy wife, his angel. Nothing could change that.

But as Rike left the house that afternoon, dressed in her modest nun's habit, Ji-woon couldn't shake the feeling that the devil was already whispering in her ear.

Little did he know, the devil had been waiting for years. And the sermon was about to begin.

The days following Rike's confession about Pastor Choi Kang-soo passed in a strange tension that Ji-woon couldn't quite shake. He tried to focus on his work, on the family business meetings and the endless paperwork, but his mind kept drifting back to the way Rike had spoken about her former superior. There was a softness in her voice when she mentioned him, a kind of reverence that made Ji-woon's stomach twist with unease.

That evening, after dinner, Ji-woon found Rike in the small chapel again. She was kneeling in front of the altar, her head bowed in prayer. The candlelight danced across her face, highlighting the gentle curves of her cheeks and the full swell of her breasts beneath her modest dress.

"Rike," he said softly, stepping into the room.

She turned to look at him, her eyes warm but carrying that same distant shadow. "Ji-woon. Come sit with me."

He sat beside her on the wooden bench, and she immediately leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. Her hand found his, fingers intertwining.

"I keep thinking about him," she admitted quietly. "Pastor Choi. He was the one who guided me through my most difficult years in the convent. He taught me about faith... and about the weakness of the flesh."

Ji-woon swallowed. "What kind of weakness?"

Rike hesitated, then spoke in a whisper. "He showed me how strong temptation can be. How even the most devoted can fall if the devil whispers long enough."

The way she said it sent a shiver down Ji-woon's spine. He pulled her closer, his hand sliding down to rest on her hip. "You're mine now. No one else's."

Rike looked up at him, her eyes dark with desire. "Yes... I'm yours. But sometimes... I wonder what would happen if the past came back."

That night, their intimacy was charged with a new intensity. Rike was more vocal, more desperate. She pushed Ji-woon onto the bed and straddled him, her heavy breasts swaying as she sank down onto his c**k.

"f**k me like you own me," she gasped, riding him hard. "Make Mama forget everything else... ahh... yes... deeper, Ji-woon... f**k your holy wife harder!"

Her moans echoed in the room as she bounced on him, milk leaking from her n*****s with every thrust. Ji-woon sucked on her breasts, drinking her milk while he thrust up into her.

"Yes... drink from Mama while you f**k me," she cried, her voice breaking with pleasure. "I'm yours... only yours... ahh... I'm cumming...!"

Their orgasms crashed over them together, Rike shaking violently as she came, her p***y clenching around him.

Afterward, as they lay together, Rike whispered, "No matter what happens... I love you."

But the shadow in her eyes remained.

The day Rike went to meet Pastor Choi Kang-soo, Ji-woon waited at home with a heavy heart. When she returned that evening, her face was flushed and her eyes held a strange mix of guilt and excitement.

"How was it?" he asked.

"It was... intense," Rike said softly. "He hasn't changed. He still has that power over me."

Ji-woon pulled her into his arms. "You're mine now."

That night, Rike was insatiable. She rode him with wild abandon, her breasts bouncing as she moaned loudly. "f**k me like you own me... make me forget him... ahh... yes... harder!"

The passion between them burned hotter than ever, but Ji-woon couldn't shake the feeling that something was changing.