Inner Sadism 2: "Did I Really Do That?"
The memory of falling asleep during the night replayed vividly. From my trembling fingertips, shaken by the shocking truth, I could clearly feel the sensation of pressing down on that slender neck. Mind-shattering sex and coercive violence—it was straight-up rape, no different. I'd lifted my hips and slammed into her unconscious body over and over. Purely for my own pleasure, I'd used a person like a tool.
'Me, I… did this to Player 4 with this dick…'
I couldn't escape that fact. Even if I averted my eyes from the scene, the heavy cock hanging beneath me stood straight up again, pointing accusingly at the rapist. My nipples hardened stiffly, and a chilling thrill leaked from the rigid shaft. Only now did I fully realize that the heat tormenting me was pure lust. And on top of that, this sadistic urge to destroy someone? For me, someone always suppressed by reality, it was a massive shock.
'Is this really me…? Or is it this dick… this penis causing it? Which one is it…'
The new world I'd glimpsed through the cracked shell was utterly bewildering. Was I following the futanari's vicious desires, or was I inherently monstrous, shaping it this way? It was impossible to tell.
'No… I need to focus on the game right now. I have to win to save my sister and get rid of this thing. Then I can go back to normal.'
I reined in my churning thoughts with the idea that escaping this hell was all that mattered. Leaving my unrelenting erection behind, I took my seat. Everyone except the eliminated player sat down to proceed with Day 2. Player 4's door stayed shut forever.
The participants, still reeling from the shock, sat there unable to start the vote discussion.
"To think futanari means something like this… With that thing attached, it can unleash all that?"
Player 2 grimaced and gasped in horror. Twitch—my root, having dumped loads of semen and now hiding under the desk, prickled sharply.
"No matter how you look at it, this ain't normal. We need a talisman to suppress that yang energy right now."
"Fucking hell… Even guys whose brains are full of cum couldn't shoot like that. Max extension's like two hours…"
"It's like those terrifying monsters the magical girls fight… Wearing those skin-tight suits and doing awful things… Total lowlife perverts…"
One by one, they piled on after Player 2.
Twitch—twitch! The primal disgust aimed at the futanari sent chills racing down my spine. My heart pounded with anxiety at the thought of being caught, and that only made my cock throb harder.
"You don't look well, Player 1," Player 7 noted, pointing out how I'd been hanging my head.
"Ah, just… thinking about a futanari like that being among us after what happened… It doesn't sit right."
"I see."
I gripped my rock-hard cock and played it cool. 'That was close. If I'd zoned out for a second, they'd see me staring at the pussy under the table…'
The leggings, with their transparent view of my crotch, tormented me endlessly. If I didn't stay sharp, my gaze would slip right into the gap.
'Looking at the other players' pussies reminds me of last night's sex… The good kind…♡'
Staring at those plump folds made my dick twitch reflexively. I was dying to kick the desk, shove it into that tight space, and thrust away.
"…First things first, let's set aside the eliminated Player 4 and focus on catching the futanari."
I suppressed the lust eating away at my mind and got to the point.
"I'm not letting this bullshit game slide. Show yourself, whatever you are! If it's a mafia game, there've gotta be a doctor or cop, right?"
Player 5 bellowed at the absent roles. It sounded like conviction, not desperate flailing.
"Yeah, even if it's jack shit, we gotta do somethin'."
"Please save us, magical girl…"
The participants, desperate to avoid spending another night with the very much alive futanari, chimed in.
"Hmm…"
Player 2, sensing the mood shift, started glancing around.
"Actually, I'm the cop…"
"The cop?"
"Did you find the mafia?"
Player 2's identity was the cop.
"No, I used the investigation pill on Player 5, but she's not mafia."
"Fuck, so it was you who sent it to me…"
Player 2 had used her investigation pill on Player 5 out of personal grudge from their Day 1 spat. It came back negative—a bust.
"Still, glad the cop came forward…"
"Knew there had to be one."
"Pills aren't just for mafia. Confirming that alone is valuable."
The citizens found small comfort in the cop's reveal.
"Yeah, this makes the game easier."
I flashed a relieved smile amid my turmoil.
"Player 2, you're the mafia. Not the cop—the futanari who raped Player 4."
I pinned the crime of painting Player 4's room white with cum on Player 2.
"W-what?!"
Player 2 looked utterly baffled.
"Player 2's the mafia?"
"What's going on?"
"No idea."
The citizens, who'd glimpsed hope in the cop role, plunged back into chaos.
"Bullshit. Player 2 fed me a pill yesterday. Does that make me mafia too?"
Player 5, who'd fought and been investigated by Player 2, defended her. The traces I'd spewed covered even personal grudges.
"Obviously Player 2's mafia. Because I'm the real cop with the futanari investigation pill. So Player 2 pretending to be cop has to be the futanari, right?"
I bit onto the first cop's tail. A fake cop act.
"Who'd you investigate, Player 1?"
"Haven't used it yet. Only one, so I'm holding it back."
"Makes sense—only one futanari, maybe one cop and one pill… Logical."
The players, never having seen the pill themselves, leaned into the second cop claim too.
"Player 1, you… Player 4…!"
"Why the dirty look? Don't pin your crimes on others."
I pressed on, unshaken by Player 2's contemptuous glare.
"Ha, where's the proof she's the cop?"
"Proof's easy—if I send a pill to a citizen like her, done. Receiver just announces tomorrow."
I shook off Player 5, clinging to the promise of sending an investigation pill tonight.
"B-but what if Player 1 gets hit?"
"Won't happen. Player 2 proves herself mafia that way."
As cool-headed Player 7 said, with Player 2 and me tied as the same role, neither was getting executed tonight.
'Dodged the vote too.'
Player 2's pill was probably just one—if she could investigate nightly, she'd never risk outing herself.
"Then my pill—"
"Use it on me."
"Huh?"
The pill I'd planned to casually send away from Player 2 and 5's chain was snatched by Player 7 raising her hand.
"For real?"
"Yes."
"Alright…"
'Throwing herself into danger? Does Player 7 have some special pill like a sleeping one?'
Player 7 exuded confidence beyond one special pill. As if the idea of her getting targeted was impossible…
"All good then. Vote passes."
Me investigating Player 7 was set. Only how to spend Day 2 daytime left.
"Vote ourselves like yesterday and move on."
"Good idea."
The cop Player 2 glared daggers at mafia me while pushing to maintain numbers.
> Beep—beep—beep…
> [NO MOST VOTED PLAYER]
No surprises—the day passed peacefully like the day before. The six survivors headed to their rooms.
'Good thing it's not late.'
I was reaching my limit.
"Hoo…"
Click. Door shut, and I exhaled the pent-up hot breath.
"Ugh… Everyone prancing around in slutty outfits! My erection won't go down at all…!"
Being around five holes had pushed me past sanity. My overstimulated futanari cock might rip through the leggings any second. My heart raced at the thought of my boiling balls unleashing cum.
I felt bone-deep why days and nights were so short. No way could I endure half a day like this. For a futanari, night was two hours to vent lust—if I couldn't dump this bursting cock-desire into another player, my brain would fry.
"Haa…"
I grabbed the aphrodisiac prepared for the futanari, suppressing my swollen cock. Plop. I dropped the pill clutched in my hand down the tube marked with Player 7's number.
*
"Makes sense—if it's like that, the decoys would see the aphrodisiac as an investigation pill. Hmm… Suddenly acting like a cop, huh. Pretty sharp head on her, Yumina…"
Admiration slipped from Snatcher's mouth as she crunched salty snacks in the monitoring room.
"The rest is mental fortitude… She succeeded once last game, so she thinks she can too. Dragging that heavy thing around while thinking with her brain."
Yumina was still holding onto reason even after tasting futanari pleasure. To Snatcher, who'd spectated many games, a futanari prioritizing brains over dick was a marvel.
"But with the core constantly refilling her body, how's she gonna hold without cumming? Last game's Player 1 had such low compatibility it worked."
She pointed out the blunder unknown to prize-chasing entrants. The harmony of external power source and embodied desire in the penis granted tireless stamina and endless craving. Desire that could shatter a dam couldn't be held by mere reason.
"Ha, screwed again… What the hell's with her good instincts? If she fucks this up too, no more snacks for me. The boss… Deus is gonna beat me to death…"
Snatcher's eyes, scarred by failed experiments, pictured the reprimand report.