Inmate A691
"So… you did it because A711 asked you to?"
"Yes…. Everything that happened is my fault. I'll take all the punishment. Leviathan…."
Leviathan had returned. He made both me and A711 kneel and put the question to us.
It was A711 who answered. Just as she had promised, she took every scrap of blame upon herself and bowed her head. She dropped into a full dogeza, driving her forehead into the floor.
Leviathan only watched her with indifference. That overwhelming gaze—the guard's piercing stare—made me feel as though I ought to smash my own head to the ground as well. The timing was strange, but I had no intention of simply dumping every responsibility on A711 just because we had made a promise. After all, the one who had masturbated was me. That was my fault.
"Haa…."
A short sigh. In that moment, whatever form the coming punishment might take, fear of it began to take hold.
"Forget it. Exactly the sort of thing you bitches would do after losing to your own lust. We're short on time as it is. Thirty Demeanor Penalty Points each, and one extra hour of torture time apiece. That'll settle it."
"But… this was all me—"
"Shut it, A711. Are you talking back to a guard?"
"Th-that's…."
"Learn this while you have the chance, A713. Even if it's unfair, you don't get to choose. You said the masturbation was your own will, so consider this the punishment for that."
"…Yes. I understand."
The sentence handed down to us was nothing like what I had expected. I had been bracing myself for a beating, or for control through the Stimulation Spores—yet Leviathan, citing the lack of time, simply layered penalties onto our upcoming schedule instead.
Additional penalty points. Additional torture hours. Things I had never experienced, so the weight of them did not quite land. But watching A711 squeeze her eyes shut where she lay prostrate beside me, I understood that the punishment was anything but light.
"Thank you."
"Thank… you."
I followed A711's lead and offered my thanks first.
"A711."
"Yes."
"Get up and take A691 out. Dinner's coming up soon, so work on her arms and legs with A713."
"Yes. Understood."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a new order was upon us. Leviathan pointed at the carrier—the same carrier A522 had hauled here at such cost to her own body. His command regarding it defied ordinary common sense.
Take out A691, he said. So why was he pointing at that?
That was a carrier. A large travel suitcase. Why would A691 be in there…?
It was a hard-shell model, wheels at each corner, a combination lock set into the side—the kind you spun digits to open.
"Today's password is 78362."
"Yes. Understood."
As A711 approached the bag, Leviathan recited the five digits behind her. She murmured the numbers over and over, turning the lock to match what she had just heard.
The case split open down the middle. Using the smooth roll of the wheels, the bag yawned wide—and a woman who had been curled up inside tumbled forward into view.
"Nngh… kyaah… uughk."
The woman who emerged from the carrier looked utterly wretched. She wasn't even bound, yet her body seemed locked rigid, unable to move.
A711 went to her first and beckoned me over. Realizing I still had no permission to speak, I crawled quietly to their side and sat. Together we began to massage the woman who had come out of the carrier—A691.
"Uughk…! Hhkk…. Aaah… nngh."
The moment our hands touched her, the reaction was violent. After so long confined, A691's muscles had seized so hard you could feel it at the lightest contact. Every joint we worked drew a moan and a fresh spill of tears; when we kneaded her body she shuddered as if electricity were running through her.
I didn't know how long she had been locked in there, but this was not the state of someone sealed away for an hour or two.
"A713."
"…Yes!"
I had let my attention wander for only a moment when Leviathan called my name. I stopped massaging and looked up. He was sitting in a chair with his legs crossed, smirking.
"This prison island has solitary cells, same as any proper correctional facility. But they're different from a normal prison. The solitary where inmates like you get locked up is that thing right there."
Don't tell me….
"That carrier."
"…!"
Just as I had feared. What he called solitary confinement was the carrier sitting in front of us. The interior of the half-open case was lined with the same hard material—nothing anyone could ever rest comfortably inside. And more than that…
…Could I even fit in there?
It was alarmingly narrow.
"Solitary is one of our privileges as guards. If we decide to, we can make an inmate live in there for their entire sentence."
"…."
"To explain a little—the inside of that carrier maintains just enough moisture for an inmate to survive a long stretch. Though all that really means is it keeps the prisoner's own sweat and urine circulating in the air."
In other words: eat the waste your body produces.
"Oxygen is held right at the threshold where you can still breathe, and meals can be delivered through a hose plugged into the mouth."
Keep them alive—just barely short of killing them.
"It's a very versatile carrier. Lock someone in, take it to the solitary facility, and a magnetic field activates that keeps the Stimulation Spores awake twenty-four hours a day. For inmates who aren't sensitive enough, we can specially fit a device into their cunt. Perfect little cell for lust-defeated bitches like you."
Solitary was a torture device in its own right. What would happen if someone were locked in a place like that?
Fear stirred in me—and right alongside it, a pointless curiosity that shook my heart.
"If you want in, just say so. I can show you what it means to want to die and not be able to. Heh heh."
At his words I glanced toward the carrier. The black interior pulled at my mind like a black hole.
But I had to set that feeling aside, at least a little. It had only been a single day, and already I knew far too well how choices driven by lust turned out. Coming to this prison island alone was enough to breed regret. I could not afford to stack more on top of it. And above all, looking at A691 collapsed and suffering beside me made one thing clear: the price of charging in blindly was far too high.
"Heh. Developing a little self-control, are we?"
Even if Leviathan mocked me for it, I had to endure for now. Just as they said—I was a lust-defeated loser, an inmate locked on this prison island for that very crime.
"Get back to massaging. Dinner's almost here. We need to eat so we can get to torture time, don't we?"
"…."
When I showed no further reaction, Leviathan seemed to decide that was enough. He lost interest and prodded us onward. Under his order we kept working. Our efforts paid off; A691 gradually calmed enough to move, and as her locked muscles loosened she managed to push herself upright on her own.
"Haa…."
She planted her arms on the floor and raised her upper body. When our eyes met, she dipped her head in thanks and flashed a grin.
A bright smile suited her. Greasy purple hair swung around a body mapped with lean muscle—the look of someone built for health and strength.
"Well? A691. How's it feel to be out after three days?"
She finished loosening up and rose to her feet. Leviathan watched her steadily and asked for her impressions.
"Eh…?"
Three days. A691 had been sealed in that carrier far longer than I had imagined. The shock tore a stupid sound out of me before she could even react.
Leviathan glared at me, irritated by the noise. Afraid of picking up penalty points, I clamped my lips shut the instant his eyes touched me. Fortunately he clicked his tongue and seemed inclined to let it slide—or more precisely, A691 spoke before he could say anything at all.
"Mm-mm. Ah, my throat. Heheh~ What's three little days? A bit stiff, sure, but this much is nothing… Aahk! Shit. My forearm brushed my nipple…. I'm already dying from the spores as it is…."
Her voice was wrecked. Even so, she carried herself with such bounce that the strain barely showed.
"…Ow. Anyway, Leviathan—who's this? Ah~ Don't tell me she's a newbie?"
On her feet now, A691 looked me up and down.
"A691. You mouth off like that, get thrown in solitary, and the second you're out this is how you act?"
Her defiance was worrying enough that Leviathan dropped his voice. A heavy silence settled. A711 and I—and even the swaggering A691—fell quiet and lowered our heads. The guard's oppressive tone reminded us, once again, exactly where we stood in relation to him.
But it did not last long. She had flinched; she had felt the danger—and still A691 was clearly cut from different cloth than the other inmates. She started grumbling under her breath.
"Tch. So what… This month's execution's mine anyway. Can't I even say that much…? Inflexible bastard…."
Loud enough that anyone could hear, her complaint vibrating through her vocal cords. Leviathan clutched his head.
"You really are something else…. Two months of executions back to back…! No—counting before your last re-incarceration, that's five. So what, this prison island still looks easy to you?"
"Ah… n-no, it's not easy. It's hard, but I can take it? Something like that… Heheh~ Tch. I'm allowed to say at least that much, right?"
Another shock. According to Leviathan, A691 was a re-inmate. Not only that—she had endured the extreme play they called execution multiple times. And she was enjoying it.
Someone who had lived through an experience so terrifying that merely watching the footage made your legs go weak—five times over. She was already claiming the next execution as hers. That alone told me roughly how she lived in this place.
"Fine. Whatever…. They're sending over an execution program built just for you soon, so prepare yourself."
"Oh~ For real? Heheh."
"'Heheh'? That's it. You're getting disciplined first."
"Uh… um. Didn't you say torture time was coming up?"
"Along with dinner."
"Haha…."
Fear was plainly written on her—and expectation right beside it. I didn't need anyone to explain. I had seen that same expression in the mirror more than once, before I ever came to this prison island.
Even so, watching A691 savor it at a level far beyond my own, I understood she was a severe masochist standing in territory different from mine. I hadn't witnessed it with my own eyes yet, but somehow I suspected that sharing a cell with her would mean seeing a great deal more of it soon enough.
"Anyway, torture hour's almost here, so we'd better finish eating quickly. Thirsty, A713?"
"Ah… yes. I am."
"A711. Hand out the bowls and get in position. A713, watch her and copy. A691—you're not eating this free."
"Huh? Isn't that a reward?"
"There you go again. Opening your mouth without speaking permission? Let's see if you still sound like that after you've had a taste."
"Heheh~ Now I'm looking forward to it~."
A711 obeyed Leviathan faithfully; A691 kept sniping and pushing back. Caught between them, I settled a little apart beside A711, careful not to get tangled up with A691.
A711 pulled the bowls from the drawer of Leviathan's desk and passed them out. I had never used one before, but the shape was familiar—the so-called dog dish. A stainless-steel bowl filmed with dust was set in front of me.
"Inmates. Take your seats."
"Yes."
At Leviathan's command, A711 and A691 sat before their bowls. The posture was not far from the Oral Onahole Position I had learned in the training room: kneeling, both hands clasped behind the back. Even the defiant A691 assumed the same stance and fixed her gaze on her bowl.
"…."
The atmosphere bordered on ritual. I followed their lead and took the position.
First came the water—trickling into the bowls. Leviathan cracked open a jug of mineral water from beside the desk and poured. Sealed water, a familiar brand mark on the jug; some unnameable relief washed through me. More than anything, I was desperately thirsty.
I had been force-evacuated the moment I woke, then had my throat reamed under the name of training. My mouth burned with thirst. Strictly speaking, the only liquid I had taken since yesterday was the milk served at breakfast—and if you counted one more thing, the seawater I had been forced to swallow after wetting myself. Of course I was parched.
The repeated acts in the training room, the stimulation that followed, sex that had been closer to rape—all of it had drained my strength. In that state, the water before my eyes felt like the water of life itself. I wanted to put my mouth to it that very second.
"Leave any and it's one stroke of the cane per leftover. Mealtime is three minutes. Clear?"
"Yes."
"Yes. Understood."
"Yeees~"
At Leviathan's warning, all of us answered in unison. Three minutes—the same as breakfast.
Would it be another tasteless lump? I worried privately, but this time there had been no mention of penalty points, so a thin hope flickered that it might be different. That breakfast really had been… awful. Hard even to swallow.
And then—
A thick, wet pour.
The dinner that settled before my eyes was something worse than breakfast had ever been.
"Haa…."