Bull Whip
Inmate A691.
The first emotion I felt upon meeting her was fear.
Unlike A522, who had greeted me kindly, and A711, with whom I had even shared my body under those brutal circumstances, I had almost no connection with her. It had only been two days, but without any real conversation or exchange since our first encounter, the muscular build and sharp eyes she carried made it hard to approach her first.
And yet, in that situation, A691 was the one who came to me.
I carefully fixed my gaze on the torture chamber where Leviathan and A522 had gone, then lifted my fingers and set them on her thigh.
"Me. Twenty-three."
"Young. I'm twenty-eight. No formal speech. Just curious."
The exchange stayed short and clipped. Was it because her tone was so light? Or because, contrary to the impression I'd first gotten, she came across as easy to talk to and that put me at ease? I couldn't say. But we scratched messages into each other's thighs as if we'd been friends for days.
"How many months?"
"Six. You?"
"Ten for me. Two months left. I get out later than you."
Saying that, A691 turned her head toward me and smiled faintly. Sensing her presence and seeing that smile, I felt an unexpected wave of comfort.
"Leviathan. Fuck. Bad draw. Worst of the guards."
"Hah. That bad?"
"I'm a re-inmate. That bastard. Second only to Ba'al."
"Yeah? Why?"
"Ba'al looks like shit too. But Leviathan. Looks fine. That's why he's the worst, but I hate him second."
Yejin wrote out the long sentences carefully, one by one. Only then could I read her intent. Maybe she had simply wanted to talk to me. Perhaps, unlike A522 with her rigid manner, or A711 whose sentence was short, she felt closer to me because we would be stuck together for a long time.
That was probably it. Because I felt the same way.
"Coming. Later."
But the written exchange couldn't last. Sensing movement from A522's torture chamber, Yejin pulled her hand away first, and I followed, returning to my original posture as if nothing had happened.
"Next. A691."
At Leviathan's blunt call, Yejin walked forward. Maybe because we had just been talking, the sight of her struggling steps struck me as pitiful. Then the chamber door opened and she went inside. In a few hours, I would be able to talk with her again. Holding onto that thought, I looked straight ahead once more.
In the meantime, A711 — who had been watching our exchange — quietly approached and set her hand on my thigh. What was she trying to say?
"Fighting."
"You too."
Unlike Yejin, A711 — Ruia — put everything into a single simple word. Then again, there was no need to take risks right now. We had already heard each other's names from Leviathan's mouth earlier; the rest could come later. With nothing more than a mutual word of encouragement, the two of us waited our turns and stared ahead.
"Next. A711."
"Yes."
At last Yejin's chamber door closed as well. Then Ruia, drawn by Leviathan's order, entered the torture room.
The difference between going first and going last was greater than I had expected. Going first meant the terror of spending the longest time in the chamber, and the pressure of being the first to step into that wretched space. So I had thought being last would be a little better…
"…! …!!"
"!…!!"
After Ruia went in, the sounds that filled the corridor where I stood alone — the screams of inmates leaking past the doors from inside the chambers — carried a terror worse than going first.
"Hic!"
A hiccup burst out of me. It came right after the screams from A522's room — Jaehee's room — rang out especially hard. Yejin, who had been sexually abused nonstop in the guards' office, seemed to be shouting something too; her screams came out like curses. I couldn't make out the words, but it was clear this was not a torture you could simply grit your teeth through and endure.
I'm scared.
I'm terrified…
What is it going to be?
"Next. A713."
"Hic!… Yes. Hic!"
"What's this? Hiccups? Hmm. Today's torture is mild compared to usual — if you're already like this, how are you going to manage? Come on. In you go."
"Yes. Hic!"
Leviathan approached my tense body and lightly took hold of my shoulder. The reason his touch frightened me more… was probably because of what that hand was about to do to me.
"All right. Stand in the middle today."
I entered the torture chamber. It was the same place as yesterday, yet the interior had changed a great deal.
"…Yes."
Holding my breath, doing everything I could to calm the hiccups, I walked to the center of the room as ordered. Thankfully, the Triangular Wooden Horse that had tormented me so thoroughly yesterday was gone. And… a great deal else had disappeared. The canes, switches, and whips that had hung on the walls were gone, and even the small desk-and-chair-like pieces of furniture had been cleared out completely. The only thing left, if you could call it that, was a set of iron chains hanging from the ceiling. Without even those, the place could have been mistaken for an empty room.
What kind of torture was planned for today, that they would strip the chamber bare like this?
"Hold out your hands."
"Yes."
With the question still unanswered, Leviathan came over and locked cuffs around both my wrists. The cuffs were a single piece of stainless steel. There was no central ring; both wrists were held by one continuous metal band, so once closed, neither hand could be used freely.
— Click.
A simple restraint. And compared to yesterday's bindings, it even felt weak. Locking both hands together in front of me didn't impose any major restriction on movement.
But Leviathan's next action maximized the cuffs' effect.
— Click.
"Relax."
"Yes."
He pulled down one of the chains hanging from the ceiling and connected it to the cuffs. Then he took a terminal from his pocket and pressed a button, and the chain began to rise.
— Clatter. Click.
"Ngh!"
As the chain rose, the cuffs at its end were pulled up with it. My arms, climbing little by little, were soon stretched overhead as if I were being made to stand at attention — and the chain kept pulling until it finally lifted my body into the air.
My toes barely brushed the floor. Raised to a height where my feet could never support my weight, I had to bear my entire body on my wrists alone.
"Haa…!"
The hanging posture was far more agonizing than I had imagined. Watching it in dramas and movies, I had thought hanging was just hanging — that was all. But with my full weight on my wrists, it felt as if my arms would be wrenched from their sockets. And more than anything, the sensation of blood failing to circulate filled me with dread.
My wrists are going to snap. If this goes on for a few hours… no, even a few dozen minutes, will I lose the use of my hands…? The fear pressed in.
"All right. You've done this once already yesterday, so you know the rest. Follow the instructions."
"Ugh…! Ah…! Yes."
And then… that was it. After hanging me in the center of the chamber, Leviathan declared the preparations complete and walked out. I answered him on reflex, but the suddenness of it left me bewildered.
No. Surely not. Was hanging me in the middle of the room today's torture?
No. It couldn't be. Of course, this alone was already torment enough. But as torture, it felt somehow incomplete. Especially with the screams I had heard from the other inmates in the corridor — I was certain it would not end with this alone. Complacency was dangerous.
Torture time for A713 will now begin.
The same resonance as yesterday. I focused on the mechanical voice sounding from every direction. The next words would compress and explain the pain I was about to suffer.
Please. Let it be even a little mild. Let me be able to endure even a little.
Bull Whip
By delivering primal pain to the inmate, punishment is administered to a body flushed with sexual arousal. Accept it with a grateful heart.
Ah…
My hope crumbled into dust. The torture the alarm announced was whipping.
Fear closed in. Ever since being locked on Prison Island — no, perhaps from the moment the transfer began — being struck had become routine. A slap to the face, a blow to the backside. Whips and switches left red welts on my flesh whenever they found an opening. Was that why? Hearing that today's torture was a beating made me so terrified I thought I would lose my mind. Even during SM play I had always been most afraid of being hit, and now I had to take it as formal torture. My heart felt ready to burst.
A713. Today's torture: base 50 strokes.
Same-day Demeanor Penalty Points: 0 strokes.
Assigned guard addition: 0 strokes.
The one mercy was that I had no penalty points today. Whether Leviathan had kept his promise or not, the count assigned to me was only the base fifty. Of course, even fifty was terrifying — but I bit my lip and gave thanks for having reduced it by even a single stroke.
— Clank. Thud.
From this moment until torture time ends, the chamber is sealed.
No one, including the assigned guard, may enter.
Torture will be halted only if A713's life is endangered, or if a part of the body is severed and permanent disability is imminent.
"…What?"
Almost the same phrasing as yesterday. I had been listening passively, trusting the familiar content, when something slightly different reached my ears. Just now — had it said a part of the body being severed?
Surely… no. I must have misheard. Surely. Surely.
The alarm ended.
The mechanical voice cut off. Then mechanical sounds rose from every direction.
— Whirr. Whiiiiirr.
In the darkened torture chamber, I turned my head left and right to identify the source. Looking around in fear, I saw robotic arms emerging from the walls, each gripping a whip.
"Hah…! Ah… uuh."
The robotic arms, the kind you might see in an automobile factory, ran through a range of motion up, down, left, and right as if loosening up, then let the tips of the whips trail on the floor. My eyes adjusted to the dark. Of the clearly defined whips, three were visible. One on the left. One on the right. And one in front. Judging by that, there was probably one more behind me as well.
What the whips emerging from all sides meant was obvious. They intended to strike not one place on my body, but many. Whether that was better or worse, I couldn't know until I was hit. I tried to tell myself that spreading the blows would reduce the chance of landing on the same spot or on an open wound — but the terror of pain arriving anywhere, without discrimination, only fed my anxiety.
And more than anything, the fact that I could not defend myself against those whips was the greatest horror. Hanging from the ceiling, how much resistance could I offer? At best, thrashing my legs might only get me struck on the ankle bone and make it worse.
In the midst of worry and fear, the first whip to swing was —
— Whirr. Swish ── Crack!!
"Kyaaaaah!! Ahk!! Ugh—!"
— mercilessly, the one behind me. From the sound of movement to the whip cutting the air, barely one or two seconds. By the time I registered that I was being hit, the pain was already in my body. The whip that had cut diagonally across my back seemed to catch lightly on my flesh before slowly dragging to the floor and returning to its place.
The searing sting of the lash brought tears to my eyes. Only one stroke, and pain rose up my throat hard enough to make the veins stand out.
"Euhk…! Haa. Haa. Haa. Ugh… uuugh!"
It was like being branded with fire. Really… everything I had been hit with until now felt like nothing. That was how much it hurt, how much it burned, and how the pain lingered long after the blow. Had the skin split? Had the muscle torn? Worry chased worry. Now, whether blood was reaching my hanging wrists no longer mattered at all.
— Whirr. Swish ── Crack!!
"Ah…! Hyeok—! Kehk…! Ah. Kyaeuuugh!!"
While my nerves were still locked on the pain in my back, the whip from the front came flying. It struck my left breast dead-on, and because the hit landed on my upper body, my breath seemed to stop for an instant. Again the whip caught on part of the prison uniform near my chest before slowly falling to the floor.
"Haa. Haa! Kh…! Ah… it hurts. Euhk…!"
At last the tears spilled over. Only two strokes, and it was already too much. I don't want to be hit anymore. I don't want to be hit anymore. My left breast hurt so badly. Had it burst open? I genuinely wondered — enough that I felt I needed to check. No. This isn't right. Leviathan, you liar. Mild, my ass. This is…!
— Whirr. Swish ── Crack!!
"Kyahk!! Aaaaah!! Aaaaaaah!!!"
Before the thought could finish, a whip came from the right. And the place it swept across was the entire diagonal track from my right breast down across my ribs. Not a point of impact — a sensation as if it had been drawn clean through like a blade. The pain was so severe I thrashed in my bonds. But a body hung from a ceiling chain could only sway like a mobile within a radius of a few centimeters.
And in my ears, the repeated sound.
— Whirr. Swish ── Crack!!
"Keuhk…! Ah… aheuah… hk… hkhk…!"
In pain too deep for even a scream, what broke free first was weeping.