Can She Really Hold Out? (2)
I couldn't understand it. Just a scrap of cloth. Nothing special about it—no hidden devices or anything—just an ordinary piece of fabric anyone could find anywhere... And yet, rubbing it against my pussy once unleashed such overwhelming stimulation? The pleasure was on an entirely different level from a hand's touch.
"B62, I win. As promised, the next torture will be a very, very tough time."
"Hngh..."
With the bet made, she had no choice but to accept defeat. Heo Seong-ah hung her head in abject misery, sniffling back tears as dread for the future gripped her.
Regardless...
Without warning, the Manager slid his hand back and forth.
Scrub—
"Aaaaaahhh!!"
Once more, Heo Seong-ah let out an ugly moan, her back arching like a drawn bow. Her bound limbs clanked as she thrashed in ecstasy.
"How's that? Feels good?"
"Hic, hngh..."
Feels good? She had no idea... It was just terrifying.
"Hic... hngh..."
The torment of pleasure surging beyond her control... No one could comprehend it without living it.
"I know exactly what B62's thinking right now. This torture breaks anyone. Unless you've gone numb, madness and thrashing are the norm."
The cloth's rough texture scraped mercilessly at her sensitive inner folds. Her exquisitely swollen clit, crushed like a sandwich between pussy and fabric, took the brunt—anyone's weakness so exposed would wail helplessly.
Scrub—
"Kyaaaaahhh!!"
Without a word, he moved his hand, and Heo Seong-ah doubled over at the waist, shrieking. Her hypersensitive clit twitched in terror, convulsing her entire body.
"Guh... hngh... ughh..."
The spot touching the cloth was so raw it drove her to the brink of insanity. After a pause to gauge her reaction, the Manager tugged the cloth slightly into optimal rubbing position.
"Then, let's begin the real torture."
"Hic, hngh..."
"Rubbing your pussy like this till you pass out sounds fine, but... too boring, don't you think?"
"Y-Yes...?"
He was tiring of the livestock's anguished cries and spasms. Craving more amusement from the torment, the Manager lobbed a question her way.
"How long can you endure?"
"Hic..."
How long? One scrub alone nearly shattered her mind... How could she possibly last?
"Hngh..."
No matter how she racked her brain, it was impossible. Truly...
"B62, not speaking? Then I can do as I please?"
"N-No..! I'll speak..!"
After fumbling in hesitation, Heo Seong-ah blurted desperately.
"Ten times..."
Ten. Her self-assessed limit, teeth gritted.
The Manager smirked to himself at her answer.
"B62, what did I say?"
"Yes..?"
What blunder now? Tension etched her rigid face.
"I clearly asked how long you'd endure."
"Yes? Yes..."
"So a number from B62's mouth won't do. Not 'how many times'—how long."
Wasn't that the same? Failing to grasp, Heo Seong-ah stared blankly until the Manager offered choices.
"B62, pick one. Endure 1 minute, 10 minutes, or 1 hour."
"Hngh..!"
All nightmares. Hiccupping sobs wracked her as she squeezed her eyes shut, face twisted in woe.
"Choose quickly."
"Well, um..."
Of those three, she'd pick the shortest—1 minute. But aware even that was impossible, she stalled, grasping for any alternative.
That instant...
Scrub—
"Kyahaaaaang!!"
The Manager rubbed back and forth, blasting her pussy with stimulation. Pleasure fierce enough to obliterate reason ravaged her mind.
"Decided?"
"Hngh..."
Just say it. One word. But her lips froze. It felt like death by agony... The intensity would surely drive her mad...
"Haa, fine. B62'd pick first anyway, so from now—exactly 1 minute tormenting that naughty pussy. Understood?"
"Hngh, yes... Manager-nim..."
"Then, begin."
With the word...
Scrub—
"Haaaaang!!"
The cloth crushing her pussy slid back and forth. At breakneck speed...
Scrubscrub—
"Kyahaang! Aaaang!! Nooo!! Ahng, haaaang!!"
Some fluid—pussy juice or lube—gushed like a burst dam, filling the beaker. Gripping the cloth like a shoeshine rag, he polished her pussy with relentless vigor.
Scrubscrub—
"Aaaaang!! Aaang!! Aaaaang!!"
Heo Seong-ah bucked her hips wildly, shrieking against the inescapable assault. Sticky fluids poured endlessly from between her obscenely jiggling cheeks.
"Aaaaaang!! Stooop!! Aaang!!"
Mouth tearing with screams, tears brimmed. Her body spasmed toward collapse, eyes rolling back.
"Guh..! Ugh...! Guhng..!"
Over 300 scrubs in that minute. As sanity frayed beyond bearing, he halted, flicking the cloth from her pussy.
"1 minute. Over."
"Haha... guh..."
"B62, gasping like that from mere this? Can't become fine livestock."
Model livestock must hold peak sensitivity without blacking out from stimulation. Amid mind-shattering bliss, stay lucid—fawn the owner, perform service. That defines livestock.
"B62 just won't cut it. Pointless yapping till your mouth aches."
He dropped the cloth into the lube-filled tub, sealing the lid.
"B62, from today—solo pussy-cleaning practice in free time. Tomorrow, same hour: if same reaction... brace yourself."
"Hic..."
Tomorrow... again? Not ending today? Plunged in unimaginable despair, Heo Seong-ah could only sniffle wordlessly.
"Before the third tool... Hmm, bored. One proposal."
"Hic..."
Proposal... Empty flattery for inevitable loss. Convinced of defeat, she scowled and looked away.
"Simple, no need to fear. 1 minute pussy stimulation—you just squirt enough to fill this beaker."
"Yes..?"
The Manager lifted the floor-placed beaker.
"Fill it in 1 minute, you win."
Misheard? Before, no squirting... Now fill with pussy juice? Purpose baffling, Heo Seong-ah stared mutely.
"B62 wins, punishment ends. Lose—fill beaker with that sticky pussy juice, as first said. Clear?"
"Hngh..."
"No worry. Virgin squirting like a whore—your best trick, right?"
She ached to deny, but couldn't. Climax always erupted in floods... Men praised wet women, but her constitution was mortifying shame.
"Then, start. Might sting virgin B62 a bit—relax, accept meekly."
Frightening from the outset, he drew a thin, long metal rod from the box. A small sphere tipped the end. Lollipop-like at a glance, but gleaming stainless steel amplified dread.
"Insert in pussy... Not huge, no pain. Hooks just the entrance for stimulation—no hymen harm. Relax fully."
"Yes..."
Her primed pussy, drenched in juice, would swallow even thicker rods easily. Still, risk of irreparable damage—he eased the tip in slow.
"Eut... hngh..."
Rubbed her pussy to coat in slick, then inched the sphere inside.
No pain in size, but the visceral revulsion of foreign intrusion churned unease.
"Done."
"Yes?"
Sphere seated deep, he released.
"Ueut..."
No clenching expelled it—the rod dangled stubbornly between her thighs. Effort only deepened the illusion.
"B62, checking: hurt?"
"Yes? N-No..."
"Good. Torture begins."
Ah, should have lied about pain... Instant regret for her honesty.