I'll Punish You When I Get Home
A lurch—something seemed to be slipping free, and her pussy clenched and shifted around it. The passage, built as it was for drawing things in, seemed to register that something was wrong and tried to push the dildo out, though it might just as easily have been working to milk it harder.
"Hhhn—!"
The sound tore out of her. This was nothing like before, when only her pussy had been tormented. The vibrations from the rotors stuck to her nipples and her clit—and, for reasons she couldn't name, the insides of her thighs, her flanks, even the pulse points along her neck—all of them funneled inward and fused somewhere deep inside her cunt.
Moans, it turned out, were surprisingly hard to make without thinking; all that came was the rasp of breath gathering deep in her throat.
"Hhaah—!"
Her heart began to hammer. The grotesque sensation of every drop of blood in her body pooling in her lower half was a little frightening. There was that much of a gulf between an orgasm she brought on with her own hands and one that arrived while her arms and legs stayed perfectly still.
Her legs had gone numb. She told herself it was only because her body was folded and bound the way it was.
The pleasure rising from inside her pussy was terrifying. That was why, the last time the dildo had been pushed into her, the pain had felt so much sharper.
But the vibration humming against a clit already worked over until it was familiar, and the vibration against nipples that had been touched less often, kept gathering inside her cunt—
Whirr, whirr. Every time the dildo, writhing and buzzing with the hard drone of its motor, pressed into that place where the vibrations had collected and were ringing through her, an unnameable sensation of falling washed over her. A strange feeling, as if her brain had slid clean out of place and then scrambled frantically back up into its seat.
Was this what people meant by a deep orgasm? It was nothing like the climaxes that lasted a few seconds and then vanished without a trace. And then, when the vibration suddenly spiked, whatever had been hovering near the edge of climax surged up all at once—
"Hheh—"
Drool spilled down her chin. She hadn't even realized her mouth was hanging open; she hurried to close it and swallowed the saliva that had pooled and overflowed.
That made one. And then—meow.
She hesitated over whether to make the sound, then called it out at a moderate volume.
"Me—oww…!"
A little tension in her throat, and a properly formed sound slipped past her lips. The pet camera, which had been sitting motionless with only its tiny red light blinking, whirred and tilted a little up and down.
Then came the familiar zeeeeng of a speaker connecting—any veteran would have recognized it—and a moment later her senior's voice came through the pet speaker, a little quiet.
"Good girl. I'm recording, so you have to keep going, okay? Unnie's heading into the office. Love you."
Even through the already-small volume of the pet camera's speaker, her senior's voice—softer than usual, almost a whisper—sounded strangely loud.
"Iiiih—!"
The graph that had spiked upward into climax didn't drop much at all; it held. Her pussy was still ringing, and her brain swayed and spun until she was dizzy. In the aftershock of the last orgasm, she—who on an ordinary day would have flung her arms out wide and gasped up at the empty air—kept feeling pleasure without a break.
The shape of the dildo buried in her cunt kept rising unbidden in her mind. She could feel every writhing shift of it so completely that she tried, somehow, to think of something else.
In her previous life she had gone to the military. She couldn't remember the name. She had never wanted to live in the first place, and she had been given another life, so she held no attachment to the one before. This life had no childhood. In her second life, which began at university, she had majored in design. General education courses—
The dildo hummed. The rotors would not leave her stiffly erect clit alone. It was mechanical pleasure.
I hate this. I want to use my hands. Tell me to masturbate all day instead. Coming from vibration feels wrong.
"Hyaaah—!"
She had forgotten to let out a breath she had drawn in hard some time ago, and only now expelled it. When she tried to swallow air again, she choked on the saliva still filling her mouth and coughed in pain.
A soft little laugh came through the speaker.
—Good morning~
Her senior's voice. A tiny answering sound cut off mid-way.
The dildo writhed. It dragged roughly along the upper wall of her pussy as it moved. She wondered if her belly might be bulging from it and looked down, but her stomach hadn't shifted at all. On either side of her clit, flushed dark red with blood, the rotors buzzed; below them, only the handle end of the dildo was barely visible.
No—wait. General education. Japanese and English, and clothes—ah.
"Hyaa, aaoww…!"
She squeezed her eyes shut, dropped her chin as far as it would go, and cried out. Strangely, her voice came out quieter than she had expected, but the pet camera moved as if satisfied.
She didn't want to come. She put every effort she had into relaxing the muscles of her pussy. What other electives had she taken? She was sure she had signed up for useless things like PE, just because they seemed easy—
"What's with the black screen?"
"Oh, this?"
She swiped to the center of the display, backed out to the home screen, and showed it.
"Personal privacy matters these days, you know."
"Whoa. What is that—only visible head-on?"
"That's right."
"That's so cool~."
It was lunch. She had strained to listen, wondering if Heeyeon might be hungry, but all that came through was moaning, so she had relaxed and stopped by the café—and that was when the voice had spoken up behind her.
About as close as anyone got to her at the company. Same age, same rank, and they still hadn't dropped the formal speech, but even that much counted, for her, as one of the few "friendly" relationships she actually talked to.
"Maybe I should get one~. Looking at the banking app on the bus is kind of embarrassing."
"Haha, nice. Where are you sitting?"
"Oh, I'm taking mine back to the office."
He had struck up the conversation with easy confidence. He wasn't particularly good-looking. She wasn't the sort of person who asked gay people the binary question of whether they got along better with men or with women—but for sheer comfort, men were easier.
Women—more precisely—had nothing to do with it at all. Until she had seen Heeyeon, she had never even felt inclined to think of women and men as different kinds of beings.
On her first day at the company, Heeyeon had come in fidgeting with nerves and called out a greeting loud enough to carry over the partition to where she sat.
—Ah, um, so, uh, ah—you're on a different team… haha…
Even with the partition between them and different team names on the door, Heeyeon had stiffened and greeted her as if she were her direct superior. That image rose up again.
A little pathetic, a little pitiful, a little cute. And still bold enough to say no when she meant no. All in all, a foolish Heeyeon who was a few percentage points short of being ready for the working world.
And yet, whenever she went up to the roof, there was Heeyeon with a blank face and a cigarette between her lips.
"Haa."
A sigh slipped out. It was definitely a warm one.
"Ah, it's ready. See you later."
"Sure."
She sent her work friend off with a polite smile of the eyes.
"Ah! And—after work today we're probably grabbing a beer. Want to come? Of course—"
He stopped mid-step, turned back toward her, glanced around, and finished.
"Without the team lead. You don't have to come, but you know it's a secret, right?"
She answered with the same eye-smile.
"Oh, what do I do—I just got a pet, so it might be a little hard."
Ah, I see. He looked disappointed, exchanged one more greeting, and left. She turned back to the screen. Just in case, she had the brightness turned all the way down.
Heeyeon was trembling in a way that looked almost wrong, making strange little sounds and thumping her head against the floor. As if she wanted to crack her own skull open. As if she had the strength for that.
And then, after a climax so visible you could see it happen, she would call out meow— in a voice gone soft and stupid.
Ah. This isn't bad at all.
She drained her coffee in one long pull. Lately she had been happy all day long. She certainly hadn't been, when she had come in to work only yesterday—and yet she was happy enough to fool herself into thinking otherwise.
Maybe she should order a cake. No—a cookie? Thinking along those lines, she stood and walked toward the counter to decide whether to buy one more thing, and the heavy vibration that had been coming through her earphones turned abruptly light and frivolous.
She checked her surroundings, found a quiet corner, and looked at the screen. The dildo had slipped free and was writhing on the floor. Heeyeon's ragged breathing had eased a little, as if she could finally stand it.
"Uwah? Eh?"
The sound came through. The dumb little voice was pleasant to listen to, but she hadn't expected it to come out like that—not that she would have known, never having tried it herself.
What do I do about this— filled her head. If she had known, she would have just brought the car. If she hurried a little now, she could probably get there and back without being late.
She fretted in place for a moment—and then, ah, a good idea. The rotors were still stuck all over Heeyeon, still keeping her entertained, so she could just leave it like this and make it up to her properly afterward, couldn't she?
It was a shame; the plan after work had been to cuff her hands in front, feed her something delicious, and let her rest—but the disruption made her happier instead. It meant she could touch Heeyeon as much as she wanted even after she got home, didn't it?
Aha. Not bad at all.
So she left the café a little quickly, walked into the small alley right beside it, confirmed that no one was around, and spoke into her earphones.
"What do you think you're doing, taking it out on your own?"
"Euhhek—ah, I di'n't…! I-I wasn', wasn't trying to take it out…!"
All the strength would have gone out of her pussy; it was only natural. She already knew that. Some liquid—sweat or something else—had spilled across the floor.
"When I get home, you're getting a punishment. Remember that."
At those words, the breathing that had been coming through the earphones cut off cold. And then came the sound of sniffling, of crying—so she hurriedly captured the phone screen.