The Failed Suicide Attempt

I released the slime rope that had bound Rene. She gasped harshly, her chest heaving.

“Haa… haa… cough, cough.”

I straightened her chair and loosened the bindings. This is surprisingly tough yet soft. Pretty good, actually. The slime rope was softer than I’d expected, yet durable enough that it wouldn’t come undone easily. It left no marks on the skin and was incredibly resilient—the perfect tool for training. Of course, some people preferred regular ropes depending on their tastes, but trainers weren’t owners; we were professionals who developed the body. For us, this was ideal.

I turned my head and studied Rene. Her beautiful ruby-red eyes were filled with fear, brimming with tears. Around her mouth clung a thick, white foam that was too viscous to simply call snot or drool. And yet… she was still beautiful. It was a vulgar sight, but even that looked exquisite on her.

“Haa… haa…”

Rene continued to breathe raggedly. I pulled out a handkerchief and gently wiped her eyes and mouth. She stared at me blankly, reacting to my touch. I tried to clean her nose as well.

“Blow.”

No response.

“Do you… want more punishment?”

Rene visibly jolted. “I… I can do it.”

She reached for the handkerchief, but I stopped her.

“I won’t repeat myself twice.”

The fear in her posture was completely different from before.

“Hngh!”

She blew her nose as instructed. I felt something warm soak into the handkerchief. I’ll have to throw this away later.

I tossed the soiled cloth into a nearby trash bin and sat down at the dining table. The food had gone completely cold. I’d wanted to eat first, but everything that had looked so appetizing was now lukewarm at best.

“I’ll heat the food. Wait quietly.”

I carried the soup bowl to the kitchen and poured it into a pot. How do I turn this on? It looked similar to a modern gas stove, but I had no idea how it worked. There was a knob, so I turned it.

I was a little curious about the principle behind it, but as long as it heated the food, that was enough. It probably didn’t run on actual gas—maybe it used mana stones? I’d have to ask Veloki for the details later.

I set the pot on the lit burner and let my thoughts wander. Sigh… At least I can get something warm in my stomach.

I reflected on what had just happened. I used to be the type who respected people, yet handling someone so roughly had become far too natural. Lately, it felt like I was going too far. Back on Earth, I’d occasionally read training material, but I never treated people like this. Doing so would’ve landed me in a police station. At first, I’d only taken this job because it seemed like an easy way to make a lot of money… but something inside me had clearly changed.

Was I actually enjoying this? Had I always been this much of a pervert? I vaguely remembered feeling some pity when I first saw slaves, but at some point that pity had been replaced by pleasure in tormenting them. When exactly had that shift happened?

At that moment—

Where was the ladle…? I rummaged through the kitchen, found one, stirred the soup a few times, and ladled it into bowls. Let’s eat first and think later. I’d been busy moving houses since lunch and was starving.

When I carried the two bowls back to the living room, I found Rene curled up in the corner with her face buried in her knees, sobbing quietly.

“Hic…”

Clack. I set the soup down in front of her.

“Eat.”

“Hic… huuuh…”

Rene only continued to cry, offering no response.

“I don’t like repeating myself. Come sit down. Now.”

Maybe my harsh tone startled her. The silver-haired ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠girl flinched and quickly took her seat at the table.

“It’s just reheated, so it probably won’t taste great. What are you doing? Hurry up and eat.”

“Y-yes…”

She poked at the food listlessly. Surprisingly, the soup was still pretty good. As I ate, I glanced at Rene. She was barely touching hers, just stirring it with her spoon. The only sound in the room was the quiet clink of utensils. The atmosphere was far too heavy.

Rene’s reaction seemed slightly broken. This wasn’t fun at all… Still, since I didn’t yet know what she was thinking, I finished my meal in silence. Once we were both done, I spoke.

“Miss Rene, starting tomorrow, training will follow a fixed schedule.”

“Yes…”

She answered weakly, still mindlessly swirling her spoon in the now-cold soup.

“From now on, we’ll train once after breakfast, once after lunch, and once before bed. If you follow my instructions well and show good results, I’ll give you breaks in between.”

Her body twitched noticeably.

“Of course, if your performance is outstanding, I’ll reward you. We may even go out together occasionally.”

Rene trembled slightly, but soon showed no further reaction. Her gaze remained fixed on the soup.

“However, if your results are poor or you disobey, the punishment will be far worse than today.”

Maybe I bent her a little too hard?

“Also, every day from now on, we’ll practice sucking like we did today.”

At those words, her face drained of all color and she began to shake uncontrollably.

“M-Master… I’ll do better… so… could we please do something else…? Anything else…?”

I smiled. Fellatio was the absolute basics of the basics.

“If Miss Rene can suck me as well as you did earlier on your own, I won’t force it. Only if you do it well.”

I ignored her attempt to say more, carried the dishes to the kitchen sink, and continued speaking.

“When you’re finished, bring the dishes to the kitchen sink and leave them there.”

After setting the dishes down, I moved to the living room sofa and sat. Finally, some rest. Training consumed a surprising amount of stamina. And with a slave this uncooperative, the early stages drained both time and energy like crazy.

Should I finish reading what I started yesterday?

I fetched the book my master had given me the night before and settled onto the sofa.

The author was a pioneer in the training world and my own master. He claimed that training wasn’t about using violence to force a woman to obey, but about making her spread her legs willingly. Prosexer—was he truly a god?

Training was actually simple: break them with violence until they learned to read their owner’s mood and please them. But he said that was wrong. A true sex slave should desperately crave her master on her own, spreading herself open and begging to be taken. Violence was necessary to reach that point, but only as a supplementary tool. He fiercely criticized the current trend of trainers who used violence merely to create living dolls.

What a truly learned man.

He taught that one must awaken the wild, perverted instincts hidden inside every female—that was the true ‘aesthetics’ of training. Violence was merely one means to reach that aesthetic and should be avoided whenever possible. I was completely captivated by his logic.

Prosexer, are you really a god?

I was deeply absorbed in the book when Rene spoke.

“M-Master… the kitchen door won’t open.”

She stood there with a troubled expression, twisting the doorknob, but it only spun uselessly.

“Hmm?”

It had opened earlier… Ah! The locking magic. Every door in the training room had a locking enchantment. Slaves were set so they couldn’t open any door except their own room and the bathroom.

“Ah, sorry.”

I walked over and opened the door wide for her.

Creeeak…

She stepped inside the kitchen.

The silver-haired woman stood before the kitchen sink, holding the dishes. She set them down carefully.

I can’t live like this. If this is what my life will be, I’d rather die.

He was a beast. No—something worse than a beast. A monstrous pervert who found happiness and pleasure in her suffering.

The fear of death is terrifying… but living like livestock, enduring endless humiliation and shame for the rest of my life, is even more terrifying.

“First, I’ll cast a permanent preservation spell on Miss Rene’s corpse so it doesn’t decay. Then I’ll display her naked body for everyone to see—the imperial princess, Rene Ryan-Augustus! That’s how I’ll make my money.”

He’s insane.

That monster really would do something like that. She couldn’t possibly survive under him.

“If you pay, I’ll even let you have the corpse. Of course, since she’s a virgin, the first time will cost an absolute fortune.”

“Come see and fuck the imperial whore’s descendant! Rene Ryan-Augustus’s cunt is available for your pleasure! Everyone, come violate the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠vulgar princess who tormented you all these years!”

If he advertised like that, customers would flock in droves. High-ranking nobles might even form lines just to see her naked body.

“Do you… have multiple lives? You think you can do that and survive?”

He had answered her question with a smile.

“Yes. I’m confident.”

Watching him declare it so boldly, Rene had been terrified. She had never met anyone like him before. Everyone she had ever known had treated her with reverence. As the Emperor’s daughter and the Saint’s daughter, Rene Ryan-Augustus had grown up surrounded by love in the imperial capital of Roman.

From a young age, she had often followed her father through the streets of the imperial city. Crowds would gather wherever she walked. As a child, people adored her for being cute, innocent, and kind-hearted. As she grew, they loved her for her beauty and graceful dignity. She had only ever known affection.

That was why she couldn’t accept the reality she now faced.

Today, Rene had lost her first kiss. The pure lips that had only ever given commands to others had been defiled.

But that wasn’t the end. That monster had grabbed her head and forced his filthy cock into her mouth.

“Ugh… blech.”

Just thinking about it made her want to vomit. The memory of licking that disgusting thing, desperately urging it to cum quickly, remained burned into her mind. She could still taste the fishy semen of that beast.

“Bleeech!”

Rene retched into the sink. Disgust and deep self-loathing surged within her chest. Even though it had only been a short while ago, the fishy taste she had swallowed felt as if it were still coating her tongue.

The fear that had made it impossible to breathe. The monster’s semen she had been forced to drink.

It’s so disgusting.

Once the nausea subsided a little, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠endless self-hatred rose for having orgasmed while sucking him. The memory of her own beastly appearance as she reached climax in that situation was so horrifying and repulsive that she couldn’t hold back the vomiting.

“Ugh! Blech!”

After throwing up into the sink for a long time, Rene’s eyes fell on the kitchen knife beside her.

Yes… maybe this will bring me peace.

She remembered him saying he would take his time, but for some reason, the words of the benevolent god El that she had read long ago came to mind: Though the body may be defiled, the soul remains pure.

She was afraid. Afraid of her corpse being violated, but even more afraid of having to endure humiliation worse than death.

How much more violence would she have to endure? How much more miserable would she become?

Death was better than living in misery and being toyed with. If she died and that bastard defiled her body, the Empire would step in. She was certain it would lead to that wicked trainer’s ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠death.

You want to defile my corpse? Go ahead and try! No… please do it! So that the Empire… so that Mother and Father can kill you.

Her eyes gleamed sharply.

Or maybe… I should kill that devil with this knife?

But she quickly shook her head. The difference in strength between man and woman was obvious. If he took the knife from her—

If I get subdued, I’ll never have another chance like this.

She might even lose the opportunity to die forever.

With trembling hands, Rene picked up the knife and stared at it, trying to overcome her fear of death.

Father… Mother… and Brother Ian. Please remember me… and make sure to take revenge for the humiliation I suffered.

She lifted the trembling knife.

I’m scared… but I’d rather die than live like this.

Rene squeezed her eyes shut tightly. Her eyelids quivered violently, as if expressing how terrifying both death and continued life were.

In one go… I have to end it in one go.

Steelng her resolve, Rene thrust the knife toward her throat.

But… why?

She felt no pain at all.

She slowly opened her eyes. Looking at the knife in her hand, she saw that the blade had bent as if it had struck not soft skin, but solid steel.

Haha… hahaha… I can never escape this hell…

Tears streamed down her face. In utter despair, Rene threw the knife away.

Clang!

Having failed even in her attempt to die, Rene collapsed to the floor and wept bitterly.