Dinner
Water filled the dog bowl.
Scattered across its surface was what they called “dinner.”
“Ah…!”
“Swallow every last one before time runs out.”
Dozens of pills. The only “food” in the dog bowl was a mass of tablets floating in water—flavorless, textureless, stripped of anything that could be called a meal. Compared even to breakfast, it was vicious enough to freeze us in place. If anything, it was worse.
“Swallow them in time. Like I just said—one stroke for every pill you leave behind.”
“…Yes.”
“Begin.”
Unidentifiable pills crowded my vision. Medical technology had advanced by the mid-twenty-first century, and drugs with fewer side effects had flooded the market, yet the danger of pharmaceuticals never vanished. Progress had simply invented more dangerous ones as well. Criminal organizations had long since switched from powder to pills to dodge crackdowns, and news stories still surfaced about hazardous aphrodisiacs manufactured as adult products. There was no guarantee one of those wasn’t sitting right in front of me.
…
The order had been given, yet I still couldn’t bring myself to put my mouth to the bowl. Beside me, A711 and A691 showed not a flicker of hesitation. They scooped water and pills into their mouths and swallowed, heads bobbing up and down in steady rhythm. I turned my eyes toward Leviathan.
“What? Scared?”
He had read my gaze and understood exactly what I wanted. The question carried a simple meaning: I was hoping for an explanation, and he had not the slightest intention of giving me one.
“No, sir…”
Nothing I said here would win me the answer I wanted. Accepting that, I abandoned the useless hope and lowered my mouth to the dog bowl. Once the command had fallen, the composition of the pills no longer mattered. I had to eat them. The time allotted was short—barely three minutes. Barely enough to force every tablet down.
“Nngh…! Ngh…! Gulp…! Hah. Hah. Hngh!”
I buried my face in the bowl and filled my mouth with pills. So many of them—things I couldn’t even tell would help or harm me—and the sheer act of taking them made my wretched position feel freshly real. A prisoner reduced to gulping down unknown substances. Yet if even this were cut off, I would receive neither a sip of water nor a single grain of food.
“Gahhk!! Ah…! Ugh!!”
A pained sound rose from beside me. A691, who had been swallowing smoothly until now, clenched her teeth and cried out in distress. Her face had flushed deep red. I turned at the raw agony in her voice.
“A691. What are you doing? Eat, already.”
“Gahhk!! Khek…! This… kheuuuh! How am I supposed to…! Gahhk…!”
“Aww~ putting on a show over a little neck squeeze? You knew this much was coming when you acted up, didn’t you?”
“S-Stop!! Gahhk…!! Ghk!”
I didn’t need an explanation to understand the punishment. As her complexion changed, the skin around her throat visibly compressed—the collar locked around every prisoner’s neck was tightening. A691 clawed at it with both hands, but no matter what she did, the collar only squeezed harder.
“Gahhk…! Khek! Hgh…! Air…!! I can’t breathe…!!”
“What are you doing? Fix your posture. Lift that ass. There. Good girl.”
“Tsk… tsssk—khek…!! Ugh… nngh…!”
Leviathan stepped behind her and reached between her buttocks. I couldn’t see exactly where his fingers went, but it was obvious he was stimulating her most private place. A691’s eyes rolled back; she panted, forced her posture back into place, and pressed her face into the dog bowl again. The cocky attitude she had worn earlier began to crumble. In that moment I recognized her for what she was—a brat. The type who acts out, teases, and climbs all over someone precisely because she wants to be forced into submission. People like that look endlessly defiant on the surface, yet their hearts are the opposite. I’d heard that the deeper the brat, the more complete the obedience once they finally break…
“Nngh…!! I-I’m sorry…!! Gahhk…!! I’ll eat… nngh…! Gulp! Khe… uuuuh…”
As if to prove it, A691—throat constricted, air cut off—buried her face in the bowl again as though the earlier defiance had never existed. She obeyed Leviathan’s order to hold the posture without a trace of the resistance she had shown moments before. She had almost certainly provoked him on purpose for exactly this treatment. No—I was one hundred percent certain. She had been angling for this all along.
“What are you doing, A713? Eat. One minute left.”
“…Yes!”
I understood, and now it was my turn. I had no desire to brat the way she had, and even less desire to invite unnecessary pain. Staring at the pile of pills, I decided to erase my own thoughts. The life I craved was one of control under coercive pressure. The emptiness after quitting my job had fused with my masochistic bent and driven me all the way here. Pain was agony and torture was terrifying, yet the afterglow once the act ended was exquisite. The liberation of having endured it was its own climax, another way of feeding my lust. That was why I had come this far. I was still lost somewhere between reality and ideal, but at least for now I needed to stop questioning and simply adapt to the environment I had been given.
“Gulp…! Ghk… hngh…! Ngh!”
I took three pills, then five, washing them down with water. Composition, side effects—none of it mattered right now. I was desperately thirsty; being allowed to drink at all was enough. With that thought I swallowed and swallowed again. The pills scraped down an esophagus already raw from the morning’s dildo-sucking, sending little sparks of pain. I still felt half-trapped in the oral onahole state. As undissolved tablets piled into my stomach, the strain grew heavier.
“Hah. Hah. I’ve… finished.”
In the meantime A711 had quietly swallowed every last pill. She lifted her head and announced the end of her meal. Leviathan returned to his place, inspected her empty bowl, and held out a finger.
“Lick it clean.”
“…Yes. Slurp. Sllrp… sllrp.”
The finger looked deceptively clean. Whether it had been inside A691’s cunt or something filthier still, A711 opened her mouth without hesitation. The reward for finishing first was to suck his finger clean. The same man who had wiped his cum on her hair after fucking me now used her mouth as a trash bin. Every gesture declared that prisoners like us ranked lower than human.
“Hah. Hah. I’ve… finished too.”
I raised my head next and reported that my meal was done. The dog bowl in front of my knees was as empty and clean as it had been at the start.
“Oh-ho~ Looks like you’re used to swallowing pills. Let’s see—two minutes fifty-three seconds. Close, but you made it. Good.”
Unlike breakfast, I had finished inside the time limit. The queasiness, however, was worse. My stomach felt packed solid with tablets, and the knowledge that unknown substances were now inside me left a lingering unease and filthiness. Even so, the relief of having obeyed outweighed everything else. I managed a small smile at Leviathan’s non-praise of a compliment.
“In that case… hey. A691. Meal’s over.”
“Gahhk… hah. Khh…! Make it… stop… khek…”
“What was that? I can’t hear you.”
“This… khh… Leviathan-nim… I… gahhk! Was wrong… Let me… ghk…! Breathe… guh…!”
In the end, only A691 had failed to finish in time. She clutched her throat and gazed up at him from beneath his feet, begging him to stop the collar. Broken pill fragments mixed with drool spilled from her mouth as she thrashed in pain. The confident woman who had stepped out of the carrier was gone; only a prisoner writhing on the floor remained. She had almost certainly been like this long before I arrived. Knowing that, Leviathan did not forgive her easily.
“In that state, count the pills you left. Get the number wrong and the choking continues until torture time ends. Count carefully.”
“Khek! Th-That’s…! Gahhk… Yes. Yes. Understood.”
Her face was swollen from lack of circulation, eyes bloodshot. A691 picked the remaining pills from the bowl one by one, counting and recounting, sorting them into tens and checking the groups again and again before carefully reporting the total.
“Grrk…! Khh! Forty-seven… guh…! pills.”
The number that came from the drooling, crawling woman was higher than expected. Strength was already draining from her body; her voice broke like a candle flame about to snuff out, metallic and fading.
— Beep.
“Hgh—! Hah. Hah. Hah. Hah.”
Leviathan looked down at her and pressed a button. Color flooded back into her face almost at once, but her expression did not recover so easily. Pain and rapture, humiliation layered over both—a tangle of emotions. Leviathan asked,
“So. Feeling better today?”
“…Yes. I’m… sorry. Hah. Ha… ugh.”
The earlier defiance was gone. The woman before us was nothing but a fully broken prisoner. Leviathan nodded, walked to the wall, and took down one of the hanging implements—a black rattan cane. The same one that had marked me yesterday.
“Assume the position.”
“…Yes.”
I knew that pain. The bruises still blooming on my inner thighs throbbed in memory. Ten strokes had been enough to make me cry; the thought of A691 taking forty-seven made her look pitiful despite everything.
“Count them.”
“…Yes.”
— Whish! Crack!
“Nngh! One!”
Even if she had chosen this path herself, it was almost unbearable to watch. Stroke after stroke painted red lines across her ass and thighs. She had a high pain tolerance and endured well at first.
— Whish! Crack!
“Ahhn…! Ugh! Nine…!”
— Whish! Smaack!
“Tennn!! Ah… nngh…! Khh.”
The count passed ten. A691 still held her posture. Her muscular body had not been built for nothing; she held on. But once the strokes climbed past twenty, the flesh began to fail.
— Whish! Crack!!
“Nngh! Hah. Hah. Ugh!”
A mis-aimed blow dropped her to her knees. Drooling, hands braced on the floor, she could only pant without speaking the number. Leviathan stood behind her and delivered a merciless warning.
“Fix your posture. That one doesn’t count.”
“…Yes. Ugh! Nngh!”
She forced herself back into position. Even through the prison uniform her ass glowed an angry red; the backs of her thighs had turned pebbled and were on the verge of splitting. Trembling as she endured, she no longer looked strong at all.
— Whish! Crack!!
“Kyaah!! Th-Thirty-three.”
“Thirty-three, is it. That one doesn’t count either.”
“Th-Then at least tie me down…!”
“Cumulative time on Prison Island is about a year and you still don’t know? Guards don’t grant prisoners’ requests.”
— Whish! Crack!!
“Kyaah!! Thirty-three!!”
At last the skin on the backs of her thighs split. Blood beaded on the black rattan and glistened in the torn flesh. Even watching was terrifying. The fear that the same fate awaited me if I ever resisted erased whatever scraps of defiance still lingered.
— Whish!! Crack!!
— Crack!! Smaack!!
The sound of the cane filled the guardroom without pause. And then the final stroke.
— Whish!! Crack!!
“Kyaah!! Forty… seven!! Hung… uhung… nngh…”
“Tsk.”
A691, who had held out to the end, collapsed and burst into tears. Her back heaved. Sweat soaked the prison uniform. At the edge of my vision lay the split thighs and the ass turned crimson by the beating. Leviathan, shoulders sore from the relentless caning, rolled his arms and stood over the spent woman.
“No time. Get up.”
He pulled several coils of rope from the tool box near the desk and tossed two in front of each of us, then issued the command in that same high-handed tone.
“This is the final schedule of the day—torture time. Pick up the rope in front of you and stand at the door of the guardroom.”
The last duty of the day. It still felt absurd that an entire day had not yet passed, yet somehow that grueling day was finally racing toward its end.