The Price of Defeat
It was a punishment she couldn't avoid anyway. Livestock that had committed a wrong weren't granted forgiveness without pain.
"B62, as promised, you must fill this beaker to 1L with your sticky pussy juices. Can you do it?"
What if she said she couldn't, that it was impossible? There'd be no mercy, just even greater torment than before.
"Yes... I can do it..."
"Good."
The Manager untied Heo Seong-ah's firmly bound limbs. Freed from the chair, she slipped on her own spilled juices, her ass popping out awkwardly. She considered sliding off entirely, but realized she couldn't move without his command—and so she clung to the chair with both arms.
Impressed by the sight, the Manager grinned broadly as he fondled her pussy.
"Hngh...!"
"The results of your training are finally showing. As your handler, I can't hide my joy."
Squelch, squelch—He clenched his hand, rubbing her pussy up and down. The slick, soaked folds made obscene sounds as juices clung to his fingers. In praise, he spread her mound wide and removed the metal ring, then playfully smacked her ass.
Smack—
"Eek...!"
"You may come down now, B62."
"Yes, Manager..."
Heo Seong-ah slid off the chair like liquid and knelt before him, facing him directly. She wanted to stand, but her legs wouldn't support her.
The Manager picked up the beaker from beneath the chair. He carefully brought the sloshing container to her and handed it over.
"Huh...?"
What the hell for?
Without a word, his indifferent hand passed it to her, and with a tilt of his chin, he commanded her to drink.
"B62, there's only one beaker in the pussy training room. To undergo pussy juice torture, we need to empty it first. Understand?"
"Yes... Manager..."
"And you need to replenish the fluids you've lost, don't you? Drink up, quickly now."
"Hic...!"
Revulsion washed over her. Colorless, odorless, transparent juices—but they had come from her urethra and pussy. What lunatic would happily swallow fluids from her own waste holes? And not just a sip—a full liter. Even if it were water or a drink, chugging a liter was impossible.
"Hic...!"
Heo Seong-ah hesitated, lips twitching. She knew this would irk him, but reluctantly pressed her lips to the rim. Parting her unyielding teeth just enough to form an opening, she tilted the beaker.
"Glrk..."
The juices flowed slowly into her mouth, stirring disgust. Their needless lukewarmth made the taste unbearable.
"Urk..."
Sour and bitter, with a faint sweetness if she focused. She tried thinking of it as medicine, but swallowing was impossible. She'd rather drink semen—someone else's fluids were worlds apart from her own.
"Uuurk..."
Heo Seong-ah righted the beaker, cheeks puffed with the mouthful, face twisted in misery. She wanted to spit it out, but that option didn't exist for her now.
"Huff, urp..."
The longer it sat, the worse the nausea surged. She glanced nervously at the Manager staring at her.
"B62, what are you doing? Do I need to impose a time limit for this too?"
"Uuumph!"
She shook her head frantically in denial, held her breath, and forced her throat to convulse.
Gulp—The moment the first sip went down, her stomach bubbled, nausea rising.
"Urwheek!"
No vomit, but the juices she'd held flooded back into the beaker.
"Huuugh! Keuk!"
She groaned in agony, spitting thick saliva into it. Despite her pitiful suffering, the Manager sighed in disappointment and pulled a ring gag from his pocket—one of her usual restraints, never imagined for this.
"B62, if you can't drink it yourself, I'll make you. Open wide."
"Ah... Aagh!"
The metal ring, larger than a 500-won coin, locked behind her teeth, forcing her throat open. She could no longer close her mouth; unswallowed saliva dripped to the floor, her tongue writhing like a snake in dread of what came next.
The Manager gently gathered her sweat-matted hair, tucking it behind her ear. Gripping it like a ponytail...
Yank—
"Agaaah!"
He wrenched her head back with all his strength, forcing her kneeling form to face the ceiling. Staring at the hazy beaker overhead, she drowned in despair.
"I could shove a tube down your throat or funnel it in, but this is the only option right now. Vomiting is fine, but I don't know what punishment awaits livestock that can't even drink its own spilled juices."
In other words: no punishment if you don't puke and drink obediently.
"Then I'll pour it in, B62."
"Auaah... Aaaah!"
Glug, glug—Pressing the rim to her mouth without spilling a drop, he slowly filled her with the juices.
"Gurhk! Uuk! Gurhk! Cough!"
Her throat filled from the inside. She tensed against it at first, but with her airway blocked, her body shuddered as she gasped for breath—and coughed, throat bobbing.
"Gurrhk! Heuk!"
Gulp, gulp—Against her will, the full mouth drained down her gullet like sewage. Coughs erupted bubbles like volcanic bursts, juices spraying spectacularly.
"You're doing well. Keep swallowing steadily."
"Gurrhk! Gurhk!"
With a sneer, he filled her mouth to bursting and watched her gulp. It was admirable yet pathetic—holding her breath to survive, forcing down the fluids.
"Gurrrraaahk!!"
Having drained it all, Heo Seong-ah gasped desperately, body convulsing. He waited through two or three breaths before pouring the rest.
"Gurrhk! Gurhk! Guk!"
Gulp, gulp—She shuddered again, swallowing as respiratory distress flushed her face crimson.
"Just a bit more. You're doing great."
About 50ml remained. He fed it in, removed the ring gag, and stroked her head in approval.
"Very good. Next time, drink it on your own without tools. Understood?"
"Guhic... Uhic... Yeth...!"
Heo Seong-ah rubbed her churning belly, face crumpled. She got tipsy off one drink—her first time chugging a liter of anything.
"Kkhuk..."
Her juice-packed stomach sloshed, nausea rising, but she clamped her mouth shut and endured.
"Now, back to the punishment."
"Yes... Manager..."
"Oh? What's this meekness?"
She'd realized escape was impossible. Resistance only prolonged it; obedience was exemplary. She just wanted the torment over.
Heo Seong-ah's submission differed from a model livestock's. It was purely for survival—for her own life. She smiled sweetly and bowed her head.
"I was wrong... Please punish me quickly, Manager."
"Yes, good. That obedient look suits you perfectly, B62."
"Yes..."
"Keep reacting like that, and you'll surely be cherished by your owner, B62."
"Yes, Manager..."
He glanced at the ceiling, then set the beaker somewhere. "B62, come here and stand at attention."
"Yes, Manager."
As ordered, she stood at attention. He wrapped unique rubber bands around her wrists, ankles, and thighs. Pressing a button on the room's remote, chains rattled down from the ceiling. Devices were hidden everywhere.
"It might strain from the weight, but stay still."
"Pardon? Yes..."
Rattle—He hooked the chains to the bands and pressed again; her body floated upward.
"Eung...!"
Chains of varying lengths splayed her arms high and legs wide—like at attention in midair. Armpits, breasts, pussy, and asshole fully exposed, Heo Seong-ah dangled helplessly, grinding her teeth in shame.
"Ugh..."
Even more humiliating: her restraints had her aroused... and juices dripped from her throbbing pussy.