Inner Sadism 3
How much time had passed? The flow of time was only discernible through the broadcaster's announcements. There was no other way to check it in this game arena.
"Hoo... haa..."
My entire body was burning with unquenched lust. Everything before my eyes shimmered like a desert mirage. It was just one massive cock—nothing more—but the room was steaming like a sauna. Even splashing cold water on my face, like I did during those nosebleed-inducing night shifts, couldn't quell the heat boiling deep inside me. The cold water quickly turned lukewarm, indistinguishable from sweat.
"Cum... cum...♡"
I want to shove it into a pussy and fill it to the brim... There are still five holes left...!
My towering futanari cock, rigid as a pine tree, was devouring my sanity.
"Ugh...! I can't go anywhere except the place I sent the pill to anyway... Without Player 7 believing I'm the cop, I'll lose to Players 2 and 5 in the end..."
The doors that opened at night were only for the mafia and their victims. Using Player 7—my fake ID—to sate tonight's lust would make the future as clear as day.
"I just want to cum at least... Maybe a little masturbation wouldn't hurt?"
Withdrawal symptoms made my hands tremble. Drawn like a magnet to iron, I approached the shaft. If I gripped the pillar and shook it wildly, it felt like all the pent-up lust in my body would pour out.
"No...!"
Smack!
I slapped my own cheek, redirecting the hand that was leading me to ruin. Like in the first game, the stench of semen crawling out from the loser's door couldn't be physically concealed. Thin leggings couldn't hide a room painted white. Remembering the volume of cum from the futanari cock that had turned Player 4's room into a devastated wasteland, it was no different from suicide—for me and my sister Yumirae.
"I have to endure this night without cumming..."
All I could do was bind the monstrous thing eroding my reason with cold rationality, gripping my cock tightly. Otherwise, nothing filled my mind but the pleasure of ejaculation.
"Hng... huu..."
The aphrodisiac prepared by the organizers was merely a tool to ease guilt. Even without the drug, waves of lust crashed endlessly. Surviving one only made the next surge higher, showing no sign of stopping until I shattered.
"Hng... ugh..."
I'm gonna cum hands-free...!
My balls boiled endlessly, swelling like balloons packed with semen and sperm. Precum gushed out with ferocious momentum, dripping like a broken faucet.
If I endure Day 2 like this, what about Day 3 night? I'm obviously going to rape someone anyway.
Even if I somehow held out, surviving the daytime vote in this state to reach Day 3 night was impossible.
Pounce on the bitch closest to me... ram my precum-soaked cock straight into her dry pussy...♡
When dawn broke, I'd grab any visible hole, tear through the leggings, and thrust my starving cock in. Just that dizzying fantasy made my thighs quake.
"If things stay like this, I'm done for anyway—might as well use Player 7...♡"
Lust had ballooned beyond control. My trembling legs, unable to bear the heavy cock, shot up. The moment I abandoned reason, a smile burst forth. It felt like unwrapping birthday presents.
"Handle Player 2 in tomorrow morning's vote. Then rape one hole per night...!"
The futanari cock connected to my body quivered with liberation and anticipation. My mind was filled only with rape; the drooling shaft dictated where to head next.
"Not just in this shitty game—every single one of them, without exception...! Rape them all with this cock!"
With every step toward the door, desire swelled without end. This lust couldn't be sated by the gutter-trash participants swept here. I'd return to the surface and continue an endless rampage. And at the end of it...
Beep-beep-beep—my parched sister would be waiting in her hospital bed. Waiting for a sister who wouldn't return. Forever...
"Yumirae..."
The swelling dream was sucked into endless despair.
"How can I even think of finding happiness alone, leaving you behind—you who've never even run properly? I'm truly sorry, sis..."
Powerlessness enveloped me in this inescapable abyss, with no way out.
This is probably the only chance to save Yumirae. I have to win this game.
The hands that had worked so hard held nothing now. Only after plummeting to rock bottom could I glimpse hope.
"Ugh..."
Thoughts of my sister halted me briefly, but endless desire soon pushed my back.
To win the game, I have to deal with this somehow...
A do-or-die situation where neither going to Player 7's room nor solo masturbation was allowed. And the rules were absolute—no door would open except to the one I chose: Player 7.
"Only one way... I'll have to bet my life on it."
The sole gamble left was a cunning loophole in the rules. Attempting it would surely provoke fury. Instead of the execution laser, I might get beaten to a pulp with bare fists.
"But that's no reason to give up."
In this dead-end alley, I squeezed out my last shred of reason.
Click—I opened the door, resolute.
*
"Ah, please stop... The moment she uses Player 7 as an onahole, it's over... Even if she holds out this time, she won't last another day."
Snatcher sighed deeply, as if the earth would cave in.
"The half-cripple tanking only worked in the last experiment... If she fucks this up too... I'll get dragged before Deus..."
The boss's patience was wearing thin after countless failures.
—High in a tower arrogantly scraping the heavens, the head of the megacorp Asmo-Zeus—the embodiment of its mind and will—resided.
"......"
In the vast room, the half-machine man prostrated perfectly before his superior. Even forming a perfect L-shape with his body, he showed no fatigue. The body beyond flesh glared at its still-imperfect subordinate.
"...Another failure?"
A voice heavy with profound disappointment echoed through the room.
"I have no excuses, Deus..."
Sweat dripped from skin not yet fully clad in steel.
"How much longer must I wait? Or rather, was there ever any chance of success to begin with?"
A sigh escaped at the plummeting expectations.
"Th-that's... I'll work harder, sir... Surely, results that satisfy you..."
After dozens of failures, the subordinate could only stand tall, hoping for the next chance.
"Balseok, my disappointment isn't because the cost of this tiny experiment pains me."
The ambitious conqueror of worlds turned disappointed eyes to the glass window. Heads the size of dots below. He gazed down at the buildings far from reaching his heights.
"The problem is those detestable magical girls hindering Asmo-Zeus... hindering me while we waste time."
Self-proclaimed star guardians blocked the tyrant's path to devouring the skies. Wielding mystical powers, they hammered at the tower he'd so carefully built. Just recalling the losses made his red eyes flash.
"Those damn bitches...! They're just lunatics who ignore Deus's grace and believe aliens over everything!"
Balseok, half his body torn by magical girls, trembled with rage. He forgot even the scolding from the absolute one, spewing hatred.
"Yes, I liked that fire in your eyes—the resolve to erase every last magical girl from the world... That's why I overlooked your failures until now."
Hatred didn't stop until it snuffed the target's breath and shredded everything connected.
"But lately, that flame seems to be dying out. Have repeated failures turned even your heart into that of a loser...?"
To rekindle his subordinate's initial zeal, Deus calmly walked toward his collection.
"Tell me, Balseok. What is the finest ruler?"
"One who leads all things so seamlessly that the people don't even realize they're ruled... The sovereign's will is indistinguishable from the collective desire—a perfect reign..."
"Indeed. Raise livestock, harvest talent. Triumph in war. Those are a ruler's virtues."
He approved of the subordinate grasping his teachings, but punishment for lackluster results was separate.
"And it's my duty to reignite a subordinate's faltering hatred. Choose. How many?"
"Three, please, Deus."
"Not ideal for disciplining an incompetent subordinate... but quality endures beyond eras."
The custom iron, crafted by a master and gifted to him, felt perfect in his grip even after ages.
Whoosh—he swung, praying his subordinate would etch this failure into his body and advance further, treating the ass like a golf ball.
Thwack!
The augmented body didn't even scratch. A deep, clear metallic ring spread through the tense air.
"It's been so long, my swing's a bit rusty. Haven't hit the field in years thanks to those magical girls. Had to use this spare body..."
Though only two were present, excuses piled up hesitantly.
"Still, I always respe—"
"Words vanish once spoken... but your achievements—and failures—remain in the records!"
Crack!
"Graaak!"
A clean hit on the useless sycophant who produced no results.
Crack! Crack!
Discipline continued until a proper strike landed. Each swing grew fiercer, more precise.
"Ugh... Still impeccable, sir..."
Remembering after so long, the subordinate marveled at the unchanged skill despite the new body.
"If you have time to flap your gums, produce results worth boasting! Not news of businesses smashed by magical girls!"
Crack! Crack!
He resumed the thrashing on his unsatisfactory subordinate, as much as he'd waited. Recalling the sabotaged ventures, he could swing all day.
Ring-ring—
A phone interrupted the sacred punishment.
"Urk... Probably... Snatcher, sir..."
"Tch, can't even handle a call during work?"
Deus set the golf club aside momentarily and approached the noisy phone.
Beep—
"—"Half-cripple! Jackpot! Huge incident!"
The subordinate's raucous voice blasted upon connection.
"...I'm not 'half-cripple,' Snatcher."
—"D-Deus?"
The wildly flickering candle snuffed out with a mere breath. Snatcher's flushed face paled.
"Come to think of it, you said you're handling this experiment in Balseok's stead. So, speak. What's the situation, Snatcher?"
Deus inquired about progress from the subordinate who'd taken the baton.
"If it's not what I want to hear, we'll swap bodies again."
He gripped the rod anew, swinging it through the air. The output-enhanced swing tore the air menacingly.
—"Well, about this experiment I'm running instead of half-cripple, sir..."
Snatcher relayed the monitored situation in a trembling voice.
—"The test subject assaulted the slave used for game progression."
"What?"
—"Naked, too..."
"Bare-handed, without tools, on the slave?"
Deus, who had drawn his golf club amid serial failures, widened his eyes at the unbelievable sight.
"Finally... has it reached the stars...!"
A seed stirring to life in the drought-stricken experiment of faded hopes. His frozen lips twitched upward.