Chapter 97: Total Wreckage – *Whoosh!*
Whoosh—the flat side of the riding crop sliced through the air, slamming down onto Heo Seong-ah's swollen, crimson clitoris. Thwack— "Eek!" Her body stiffened like stone, back arched and teeth gritted.
"Ack... Aaack..!" They say that when humans or animals endure unbearable shock, the brain shuts down momentarily. A desperate escape from reality to minimize stress—and that's exactly what Heo Seong-ah was experiencing right now.
"Kk!" It hurt like death. She couldn't even scream, couldn't move a muscle. Like flipping off a light switch.
Her mind went pitch black, blanking out every thought. "Ah... Ahh..." She seemed to be trying to speak, but only pain-filled groans leaked from her lips like air escaping a deflated balloon.
"Ah..." It hurt. So much it hurt. Words like "painful" fell woefully short of describing this agony.
"Kkuuuk..." As time dragged on, her numbed nerves slowly revived, igniting a hellish burn across her entire pussy, not just the clitoris.
"Kk... Eeuuk..." Her rigid limbs twisted grotesquely as she slammed her head to the ground. Her hips jerked upward, trembling violently, until her gaping mouth unleashed a scream that could tear eardrums. "Kyaaaaaaaah!!"
All this in a mere three seconds. "Kyaaaaaaaah!!" Screaming louder didn't make the pain vanish.
"Auk... Kk..!!" It hurt... She felt like she was dying. No joke—dead serious.
"Kkuuuk!!" This wasn't her first pussy whipping, but such an explosive reaction was only natural. Heightened nerves meant vulnerability not just to pleasure, but to torment tenfold—or more—beyond what she'd imagined.
"Livestock Number B62, I've barely struck you once, and you're carrying on like this?" The riding crop still pressed against her pussy. The Manager smirked, gently rubbing it up and down.
"Kkhiiuuk..!" Chilling tremors vibrated through his fingertips. Pain and pleasure always coexist. After thorough rubbing, her juices flowed, producing slick, squelching sounds.
"Aaaang..." From the mouth that had wailed in agony moments ago now slipped lewd moans. Pain brought suffering; caresses brought ecstasy. Gazing at this simplistic female livestock, the Manager smiled with satisfaction at her well-trained state. Still plenty of room for improvement... but she qualified as prime stock.
"Good. Livestock Number B62. You can live out your days in blissful stupidity like that."
"Haaah..."
"No more pretending to be clever. Just think of feel-good things and spend your life fawning over your owner as a perfect pussy house."
Whether she heard or not, she showed no reaction... but she knew better than anyone what attitude she needed for a livestock's harsh existence. She'd felt it firsthand, time and again.
"Haaang..." Thick strands of nectar stretched from the crop's surface to the floor. Gasping from stimuli no normal woman could feel—this body now equated every touch with pleasure.
After prolonged teasing, the Manager suddenly whipped his wrist without warning. Slaaack— "Heek!" Her lower body bucked wildly; she collapsed face-down in humiliation.
Reason fled briefly, then returned. Impressively, she didn't pass out... but it was only a matter of time. Just the second strike.
Could she endure all eight?
"Livestock Number B62."
"Heeuuk..."
The Manager gripped the nectar-smeared crop and swung it through empty air. Whoosh-whoosh— The menacing sound filled the room. Sane, she'd have trembled in terror at the noise alone—but her mind was already a shattered wreck from the shocks, reasoning circuits severed, brain idled, sanity adrift far away.
"Aah..." Consequently, she just lay there, groaning.
"Livestock Number B62."
"Hkk, Kkuuk..." Tap-tap— He called her name while lightly tapping her pussy with the crop. Even that faint stimulus made her quiver.
"Didn't I tell you to snap to attention when the Manager calls?"
"Hkk, Haa..." No usual babbled apologies like "I'm sorry, I was wrong." Just more pained groans.
"Haa..." He'd planned to drill basic female livestock etiquette under the guise of punishment, but this rendered it pointless. Scowling in irritation, he kicked her prone body over.
"Haa..." Even tumbling limply, she remained unresponsive. No different from unconsciousness.
"Livestock Number B62, what did I say happens if you pass out?"
"Uuuh..." No answer.
"Since it's your fault, we'll proceed as planned."
He'd warned her: blackout means extra modifications. With prior notice, upon waking to her altered body, self-blame would outweigh anger at him.
"Let's begin."
He stripped off the nectar-stained gloves, donning fresh ones for sterility. Pondering modifications while eyeing her form, he sighed deeply, shaking his head.
"Haa..." He'd already crossed a line once. The clitoris aphrodisiac tweak strayed from the owner's requests. Further discretionary mods risked too much. Livestock could break without consequence... but her owner was the Shared Property Facility Director's son. Unchecked alterations might backfire—who knew? He could shift blame, torpedoing the Manager's hard-earned career. Worse: demotion to a hellhole outpost, or fabricated infractions leading to harsh punishment.
Thinking ahead, no more unapproved acts on Heo Seong-ah.
"Hoo... That's why I hate livestock with preset owners."
Public toilets or shared property were carefree toys. Preset ones like her came with endless restrictions.
"Hoo..." Swallowing his sigh, he gripped the riding crop anew instead of modding. Squeezing hard as if vowing never to let go, he kicked her fully onto her back.
"Aah..." Staring at the ceiling, the foreign pressure in her ass made her bite her lip, leaking a lewd groan.
"Livestock Number B62, time's short, so we'll wrap this up quick. I hope you snap out of it."
Hiking her legs skyward, he wedged his own between them and squatted. Forcing her into a shameful M-legged spread.
"Whoops..." He nearly toppled from the squat. Sitting his full adult weight on her frail belly seemed risky. Stabilizing somehow, he pressed the crop's flat to her pussy, rubbing gently until juices soaked it slick again.
"That's a good look. Good... but I hope you realize it might not always be."
Gushing nectar like she relished punishment—infuriating for the punisher. Sure, her body was modded that way... but shouldn't she show some restraint? No man ejaculates 24/7. Her pleasure-obsessed, perpetual-heat form needed reflection. Though her owner would handle that...
"Here it comes."
Releasing the crop, he wrenched his wrist sky-high—nearly 180 degrees—then lashed down at blinding speed onto her pussy. Smaaack— "Kk!" A dull, meaty thud, like a burly man slapping a cheek full-force.
The pain was unimaginable... Smaaack— "Kyaaaaaaaak!!" No respite—he struck again immediately.