Side Story: Gloria's Life-Ending Question Game
"Mind if we take a moment?"
"Ah, yes! Of course, Marquis!"
Just as she braced herself for the torture to begin, her body trembling with tension, the marquis's voice cut across the banquet hall. 'Did he perhaps notice my true identity...?' Gloria's tension made her shudder for only a moment before the marquis spoke.
"First, how about having this sow introduce herself?"
Gloria flinched, her body jerking at his words. This wasn't part of her plan. She had meticulously scripted the entire performance in this banquet hall, instructing the emcee to follow it to the letter. But she hadn't anticipated the marquis acting on his own.
—No, she had anticipated it. She had deliberately ignored the possibility.
Still, this was a command from the royal family. He wouldn't defy the marquis.
"An excellent idea, Marquis. We have a lie-detecting magic tool here. Using it would make things even more enjoyable."
'—What did you just say?!' Gloria screamed internally. What had this worm of an emcee just spouted? Daring to defy her orders. Did he think flattering the marquis mattered more? There were no royals here anyway. He must have figured there was no need to uphold it.
Such thoughts lasted only a moment before Gloria recalled the information on the lie-detecting magic tool he mentioned.
The lie-detecting magic tool. The device itself had existed long before Gloria was born, but it had been shelved ages ago. For one simple reason: it hindered framing the innocent.
To execute the unjust, false confessions were needed—through torture or threats, any unreasonable means to extract them. Then came execution, punishment, or exile. But after the lie detector's invention, several wrongful judgments were exposed. Some nobles revolted, sparking a minor rebellion. In the end, the royals buried it completely.
—Or so everyone thought. Here it was, right before her eyes.
Gloria's heart pounded, her chest heaving with tremors. It was a feeling she'd never known in her life: pure, unadulterated fear that she might truly get caught like this.
───────Uncertainty.
Her body shook from the unfamiliar sensation for only a moment before the men carrying the lie detector arrived. They fastened thick cords to the piercings on Gloria's nipples and clitoris. Suspended in midair, she felt her breasts and clit tugged slightly.
"This is an electric shock lie detector. It does no harm if you tell the truth, but if you lie, it sends a powerful current. The longer the lies continue, the more agonizing the shocks."
Gloria steadied her sinking heart, gasping for breath. It was fine. If things got dangerous, Samiel would step in to help.
"Then, sow, what is your name and age?"
Gloria clenched her eyes shut behind the mask. So it came to this. Having entered as a noblewoman guilty of public indecency and adultery, probing her identity to heighten the shame wasn't unusual. It wasn't in the script. This was his improvisation.
She couldn't say it. Not until her complete downfall plan began. This information had to remain secret.
".................."
Gloria parted her lips, then clamped them shut again. Silence.
"Ah~. How regrettable. —But."
—Zzzzap!!
"────Eeeeek?!"
With a massive surge of electricity, the bound Gloria thrashed her limbs wildly, unleashing a sound between a scream and a beastly howl. The pain and shock piercing her nipples and clit exceeded all expectations.
Th-this is... bad...♥ My... voice...♥ I... let it out...♥
She'd let out the most vulgar sound imaginable. To wail like a lowly sow in front of everyone. Gloria, who deserved reverence, howling like a bitch in heat.
A tingling shock radiated from her crotch. Urine. Hours had passed since she'd last relieved herself, and the electric jolt had pushed her bladder to the limit.
"As you see, silence or lies trigger the shocks! But this alone doesn't seem punishment enough."
How many minutes had passed? Gloria roughly counted in her head and realized barely half an hour had gone by. She'd thought she'd enjoy this purely, but the vertigo of possibly being exposed was beyond imagination. Unlike pleasure from pure shame, this was the thrilling pulse of her life potentially ending.
"For every refusal to answer, we'll apply this slime here. It's parasitic mucus from the back of a giant toxic slug."
As the emcee finished, gloved men approached and smeared cold, sticky mucus on one of Gloria's breasts.
Parasitic mucus. An item Gloria had chosen for this banquet, thinking it would be fun. But it was far too early for this.
The situation had already spiraled completely out of her control.
".............Nngh♥"
This mucus contained nerve-stimulating parasites that activated instantly on contact with skin or flesh. They latched on, stimulating nerves while feeding. Seemingly ordinary parasites, but this mucus was the raw material for an aphrodisiac. Even the strongest-willed person would beg for mercy in tears after ten minutes on living skin.
And now it coated one of Gloria's breasts—her pride, smooth and voluptuous, never soiled by dirt, maintained to perfection. Men would give their fortunes to touch it. Yet her priceless body was treated worse than a slave's.
"...............Ha..............Ha.............♥"
The sensation in her breast intensified. It grew hypersensitive. Gloria tried to move, but bound to the massive frame, she could only twitch her limbs futilely. Her plump belly writhed. Hanging there, breathing heavily, her huge breasts swayed up and down. Cheers rose softly from the nobles.
"They say this mucus causes torture-level itching! Ah, it's all over that vulgar pair of tits. And look—the piercings are turning yellow and pink. Feeling shame and pleasure at once?"
With his words, the lights illuminating the banquet hall's center brightened further. Her privates, slick with fluids, were fully exposed. From head to toe. Breasts to asshole. Gloria's luscious breasts were a mess of parasitic mucus, turning them agonizingly sensitive. It felt like needles piercing her skin, thousands—tens of thousands—of worms wriggling inside.
The sacred breasts of Gloria were being defiled by parasites.
Gloria writhed, stifling moans. Did her struggles excite the watching nobles?
"Slather the other one too!"
"She seems to be enjoying it—why not dump it all over her body? Hahaha!"
"Speaking of, what a beautiful, lewd body. Doesn't she remind you of the regent slut?"
Di-did he just... say... what...♥ ...Nngh.............Grooo♥♥ Itchy... so itchy♥♥
Gloria jolted at the noble's words but quickly lost focus, screaming from the excruciating itch.
"Hey, watch your mouth! What if the regent hears?"
"She's not here—what's the harm? I've always thought the princess had an unseemly slutty figure. Did they bring someone who looks just like her on purpose?"
Overhearing the lowborn nobles, Gloria felt an indescribable emotion.
They... thought of me♥♥ like that... all along♥ like that...♥
Joy? Shame? Rage? An ambiguous feeling she couldn't name. But she couldn't dwell—her mind reeled from the sensation of thousands of tiny feathers, sharp as steel, stroking and burrowing under her skin. The itch built relentlessly.
It was torment. Pure agony. Her massive breasts throbbed entirely. Her nipples especially felt swollen to bursting. She wanted to scratch, but the restraints forbade it. Meanwhile, her bladder trembled. She needed to pee.
"Then, let's continue the questions. Sow, what is your name and age?"
A cruel question. She couldn't answer. She mustn't. But refusal meant slime all over her body.
Samiel. Samiel. Hurry and intervene! If this goes on, my identity will be—Grooooh?!♥♥
Zzzzap!!!
"Eeeeekekeke!♥♥"
Letting out a vulgar cry that wasn't even pleasure, Gloria shuddered again.
Samiel. Samiel. Hurry♥ Hurry♥ Help meee♥♥ If this continues, my cover's blown♥
She hated the emcee for deviating from the script. She hated the nobles toasting to her vulgar screams. But why did it feel so good? Rage, shame, fear of ruin—the emotions she should avoid electrified her with thrill.
She wanted more. This shame and fury painted her gray life with vibrant fireworks.
"Oh, what's this! She couldn't hold it and pissed herself."
Indeed, Gloria was urinating right now. Steam rose from between her crudely spread legs, from her urethra. Not from the shock. She was doing it herself, clenching then releasing her sphincter on purpose.
Why? Because she wanted to.
Hundreds of nobles watched Gloria's pussy leak piss. Just days ago, she'd stood before tens of thousands, bathed in awe and reverence. Now, she publicly urinated like a beast. Displaying the disgrace no woman should ever show. Willingly.
They ogled her pussy, her urethra, her most precious place♥
"A naughty sow deserves punishment again."
No sooner had he spoken than parasitic mucus slathered her other breast.
".................Ooh♥ ...............Ooooh!!♥♥ Oooh.............♥♥!!"
After thirty minutes more, the emcee asked her name and age three times. Gloria refused. She couldn't say she was Gloria Roon Arizarad, twenty years old. It would end her life.
Grinding her teeth through shocks, her body ended up coated in parasitic mucus. The aphrodisiac raw material tormented her skin. Her pale flesh glistened with sticky transparency, teeming with invisible parasites.
The itch surged from deep within, like nerves crawling under her skin. She wanted to carve it out, squeeze her breasts. She strained her limbs but couldn't move. Even her thighs itched to death. Her heart raced impossibly fast; heavy breaths turned to howls. Sweat washed some slime away, only for more to be applied.
Forgetting all dignity, Gloria beastly panted to suppress the itch.
"Oooohk....!! Ooo......♥♥!! Ooooh♥♥ Ohoh♥ Hook♥♥ Groooohk♥♥"
Pathetic. No different from Alisa. Even Gloria's iron self-control crumbled. This was a torture device that broke ordinary folk in ten minutes.
"Itch... so itcheeee♥♥!!"
For the first time, Gloria spoke of her own will. And begged wretchedly.
"Scratch.......♥ Scratch.........please♥♥ Anything♥ I'll do anything♥"
The emcee looked troubled. "But you haven't answered a single question. Was it too difficult?"
Gloria nodded. Normally, one word from her would destroy this clown—socially or physically. But now, she begged pathetically. Her exalted status amplified the shame.
"Let me cum! Please!! Make me cum! My pussy itches! Nngh♥♥ Oo...♥♥ Ooo...♥♥♥!!"
"You must be suffering terribly."
The emcee echoed her. Finally, would he grant her plea? Gloria, half-mad from itch, lacked the wits to read him.
"....Pussy itching that bad? Then how about smearing this parasitic mucus inside it too? Until you answer."
".................Huh?"
Her mind went blank. He meant to put it in her pussy?
"Then the ass next. Every crevice, to the depths of your guts. That should make you talk, right?"
"Ahh...........!! Ahh..........♥ Ah..........., Ah............!!"
Terror shook Gloria. She babbled nonsense. The effects lasted hours once applied. Filling her pussy and ass depths? She was dying already. Without focus, she'd blurt her identity. Resistless before hundreds as it was exposed, screaming until then?
Her sanity creaked, emergency signals blaring. Desperately, she racked her brain for escape. But no solution came.
"Then, shall we prettily paint this big clit first? The piercing ring's still pink. You can endure more, right?"
The banquet night was far from over.