#09 Taming Day-0, Nayae 1
Raindrops falling from the sky gather to form a tiny stream, then a river, then an ocean. In the same way, every event in the world builds from small incidents into massive affairs. Since it unfolds gradually beyond human control, it's riddled with unpredictable variables.
Still.
There had clearly been a way to prevent this one.
Dealing with Kim Hyunwoo had been unavoidable. He was a loose-lipped weirdo clinging to Yuchan, a potential gap that could leak unnecessary information. But that miserly mindset—if we're going to dispose of him anyway, let's make him useful—had ruined everything.
If things had gone according to plan, Nayae would have developed even deeper affection for Yuchan, the man who saved her from crisis. Eventually, in full possession of her senses, she would have boldly opened herself to an intimate rendezvous.
But Kim Hyunwoo had let something slip to Nayae, and she had caught on. Caught in a leading interrogation, her lie had been exposed, deepening her suspicions. And once suspicion took root, it would sharpen with each passing day, taking on ever clearer hues.
"The world is fun precisely because things don't go as planned."
Yuchan murmured as he bound Nayae's hands and feet with green tape. He had SM handcuffs, but they were toys—useless if she thrashed around. More importantly, tape instilled greater unease in the bound victim.
Having choked her carotid until she passed out, Nayae was still unconscious. Her clothes were stripped down to her underwear. With her forearms and thighs taped, knees bent and shins wrapped again, even Yuchan couldn't have struggled free. A frail girl like Nayae stood no chance.
"What a shame."
Originally, the buildup should have been far more entertaining. Nayae, who respected and adored her kind counselor, would feel boiling lust every time she looked at or touched Yuchan—embarrassed, ashamed, yet slowly mistaking it for love until, after at least six months of careful tending, she spread her legs of her own accord.
By results alone, it was overcooked.
Simple rape had grown stale for him, but Yuchan had experience in this arena too. Finally, he wedged a wooden stick of moderate size between her thighs to keep her legs from closing, then stuffed her panties into her mouth. They were the garment that had most absorbed his scent from the recent laundry load. Fabric swelled with saliva, making it hard to spit out. It would prevent self-harm like biting her tongue and muffle any screams.
Stepping back from his handiwork, Yuchan admired it. In a world that shifted by the second, flexibility and quick thinking were survival. Even if things had gone awry, deriving the optimal path from here would turn mere failure into a grand trial run for success.
Steeling himself with that positive outlook, Yuchan roused Nayae. A mere faint, she opened her eyes quickly.
"Hello, Nayae."
Her large eyes blinked slowly at first, then widened in realization.
It was a bedroom. The walls were finished in lumpy black soundproofing foam like something from a theater. One side was all glass, shrouded by soundproof blackout curtains blocking outside light. Only dim orange standby lighting illuminated the gloom.
Nothing strange so far.
But her body was immobilized, wrapped tight in tape. A gag filled her mouth. Her winter layers—save underwear—lay stripped on the bed. She writhed desperately within her limited range. The bed springs creaked softly, sweetly.
"Mmph...!! Mmmp...!!!"
"Oh dear, you're quite startled."
The gentle hand stroking her hair was unmistakably her teacher's. Nayae decided it must be a dream. It had to be—nothing like this could happen in reality. But the tape digging into her skin with each struggle, the faint pains it brought, proved otherwise.
"The world is made of lies we want to believe and truths we don't. Which have you chosen, Nayae?"
If left alone, would she have trusted Yuchan? Or pursued the truth amid mounting fear and doubt? No way to know now.
In his soft voice, Yuchan observed her reaction. Pupils dilated in terror; tense, rapid breaths leaked from her plugged mouth. Her slender near-nude form shivered violently. Far better than when judgment was dulled by drugs.
Watching trust evaporate from eyes once filled with it, Yuchan felt a pang—as her teacher.
"You're trembling so much. Are you scared?"
He brushed the backs of his fingers over her body, which he'd kneaded countless times. Her breaths grew ragged. Tears she hadn't noticed falling soaked the pillow.
"Human fear stems from ignorance. You're terrified because you realize you know nothing about me anymore."
"Mmph...!!"
His gentle touch extended a hand. As it neared her face, her body froze.
"Screaming won't help. I redid the whole bedroom with soundproofing when I moved in. I thought I was insensitive, but I hate exposing my private life. Understand? Nod if you do."
Nayae nodded slowly. Quietly, Yuchan peeled off the soaked gag.
Gulping fresh air, she sobbed wretchedly. Sorrow marred her refined beauty.
"Hic... Hic... Why... why..."
"Teacher didn't want this either. Honestly, I'm a bit annoyed. It's like the candy I planned to savor slowly shattered in my mouth."
Dabbing her tears with a handkerchief, Yuchan pulled a chair beside her. Constricted, she could only turn her gaze to him.
"What are you wondering? I'll answer anything."
"Why... why are you doing this?"
Most would ask what he'd do to them. Deep down, blind faith that teacher wouldn't harm her lingered unconsciously.
"Good question. But isn't it better if you figure it out yourself?"
Counting on his fingers, Yuchan listed the reasons.
"First, Yuchan broke Kim Hyunwoo's legs."
She'd likely inferred that much. Her sharpness backfired here. They could have built something great.
"Second, Yuchan told Kim Hyunwoo to threaten you."
She didn't want to hear it. Couldn't. Protagonists learning the truth often met gruesome ends—a cliché sequence.
But facing terror for the first time, Nayae stiffened like a pocket mouse spotting a hawk.
"Finally, Kim Hyunwoo didn't commit suicide."
The verdict fell. Her worst imaginings aligned perfectly. Hyunwoo died by Yuchan's hand, and she'd followed the killer to his den like a fool.
"How's that? Surprised?"
He'd hoped to gauge her reaction, but her face was frozen—facial muscles paralyzed, or mind stalled from overload? A pity.
"Wh-what... happens to me...?"
Swallowing horror past her throat, she asked. Her quivering voice would stir protective instincts in any normal man. Wrong opponent.
"Sorry, but you'll have to die for me."
"Hnn... Hnnngh..."
Ears strained, she burst into heartbroken sobs as his words ended. He had no intent to kill. Her body was too exquisite for a mere repeater. The blueprint—to toy with and degrade her at length—remained unchanged. He just craved the thrill of absolute dominance.
"Any preferred way to die? Circumstances are dire, but teacher truly cherished you. I'd grant a final wish."
"Please... spare me! I don't want to die, teacher... please..."
Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Yuchan pretended to ponder. Desperation intensified her pleas.
"Don't be too upset. I'll give you the ultimate pleasure a female can feel. You can go peacefully."
"I won't tell anyone! I'll do anything you say... don't kill me... sob sob..."
Tears streaked her refined face, twisted in grief and fear. Begging so earnestly from that hogtied pose had its own tragic allure.
"There, calm down. It's not hopeless yet."
Yuchan climbed onto the bed, straightened her disheveled hair, wiped her tears. He even fed her water to soothe her hiccuping sobs. But knowing his true nature, Nayae saw no kindness—only a monster in human skin.
Seeing her calm somewhat, Yuchan fetched the crossbow from the box in the room, separated from its booby trap. Crude compared to commercial models, but purpose clear enough.
For show, he set the unloaded bow on the floor. Pressed the stock down, foot pulling the string taut with a creak of pulleys. Tension hummed. He nocked a handmade bolt and aimed at Nayae.
A light trigger pull would release the 70-pound draw, launching the bolt straight.
"What do you think? Teacher made it—pretty good, right?"
Fear humbles. Already terrified, Nayae paled further as the tip fixed on her, trembling violently. Lips locked too rigid for pleas.
"Pull this, and your pretty head gets a new accessory. Seventy pounds fells boars or elk. Needless to say for the frailest animal—humans."
"Hah... haah... hngh..."
Overwhelmed beyond endurance, she hyperventilated. Extreme stress spiked her breathing, plummeting blood CO2. Eyes rolling back, near fainting.
Piss on the bed would ruin things, so Yuchan dropped the bow and rushed to her. Mouth to her mouth.
"It's okay. Relax, breathe slowly. Deep in... and out."
Pinned her nose, sealed lips. Mouth-to-mouth—not just respiration, but exhaling his CO2 to normalize hers.
Savoring her wriggling tongue leisurely, Yuchan blew steadily. Greenhouse flower, zero stress tolerance. Tsk, he thought. As she stabilized, he sighed in relief. Blood returned to her rigid limbs; her face went blank, like waking from sleep.
"Better now?"
Still sniffling, she nodded faintly. Obedient girl. Lowering his head, Yuchan whispered in her ear.
"If you want to live, prove how useful you are. Teacher doesn't discard what's valuable."