Water Torture
What were those?
Two rods of indeterminate purpose, both fashioned from firm, wrinkled rubber. They rose from the exact center of the washing-machine floor.
“….”
A wave of dread swept over me. Even without an explanation I knew at once where those rods were meant to go.
“What are you waiting for?”
“Hieuk…! Aaah….”
I hesitated, and Leviathan stepped in, seizing my ass in a crushing grip. The pressure of flesh shoved to one side made my legs tremble; bare skin that had been hidden beneath the gown was kneaded freely by another’s hand, and helplessness flooded through me. Yet stronger than any of that was the fear that now ruled my heart.
“Want demerit points?”
“N-no…!”
“Then why aren’t you getting in?”
“Th-that… those things.”
“Those things?”
I stammered, pointing at the two rods. I already knew the answer, yet some desperate corner of me still hoped for a different one.
The reply that came back did not disappoint my worst expectations.
“Right. First bath, so you wouldn’t know. Hmm. Those are robot valves that will clean the inside of your body. You can probably guess just by looking. One for the front hole, one for the back. Seat yourself properly on them and they’ll scrub you clean all the way in.”
“Ah… ahh….”
“Who knows? Maybe they’ll even wash out the last of my cum from the other day. Heh~ Now get in.”
“U… yes.”
Leviathan’s verbal cruelty brushed my ear. I had not even been impaled yet, but the knowledge that something no different from an enema awaited me filled me with terror. Still, once an order had been given, hesitation was no longer an option.
“Ugh….”
Clutching my taut nerves, I climbed into the machine. The interior was plain metal. Aside from the rods jutting from the floor, the space was flawless—no devices, no seams. I had to crouch inside it.
“Ah… ahhk…!”
More precisely, I had to crouch while seating myself on the rods.
“Ugh… ughhk… ah… uuugh!”
Even though the rubber was coated in plastic, the rods refused to enter easily. Of course they did. After a night of torment that had left every drop of moisture gone, and after the stimulation spores had forced out every last bit of remaining fluid, nothing was wet enough to ease the way. The rear hole was worse. It was so tight that merely touching the tip to the entrance hurt. I spread my own ass with both hands and tried to lower myself carefully, yet the sphincter pushed back with stubborn force and would not yield.
Trapped between impossible choices, I felt Leviathan’s steady gaze on me.
“Having trouble getting them in?”
Arms folded, his arrogant face held a tangle of emotions—worry among them. Was he about to help?
I answered with a fragile thread of hope.
“Yes… they’re… too dry…! I-I’m sorry. If you could just give me a little more time….”
In truth, more time would not have helped. What I needed was lubricant, or some sexual act that might relax my cunt and anus. If he touched me, would it ease even a little? Recalling the ways he had excited me the other night while we coupled, I watched him approach.
But a prisoner who dared to hope for kindness required punishment.
“You know that’s insubordination, right? I clearly told you to sit.”
“I… no, it’s not that—!”
“Who gave you permission to speak? Inmate A713. Ten demerit points. And this.”
The punishment was mine.
“Kyaaaugh!! Hyaaugh!! Ah…! Ahhk…! Ughht!!”
The moment he reached me he clamped both my shoulders and drove his full weight down. My body was forced onto the rods; the unyielding shafts found their only escape routes and plunged deep into cunt and ass at once. The sensation of vaginal folds being scraped raw, the agony of a sphincter wrenched open against its will, paralyzed my lower half.
“Haah…! Kh… uuugh!”
The pain was far worse than I had braced for. Tears I thought long dried burst free; my mouth fell open under the shock and drool spilled out. My entire body shook—from the sheer violence of his force and the crushing power transmitted through every bone.
Sheer terror flooded in.
“I’m closing the door. Shut that fucking mouth.”
“Hup…!”
The hands that had been bracing me against the crushing pain flew up of their own accord and clamped over my lips at the sound of his voice. His tone, as terrifying as the physical torment itself, squeezed my heart.
Is it only my imagination that he seems harsher than before?
Yes. It must be imagination. He’s always been like this; I simply never noticed.
Hahaha. Lee Nayoon. Don’t delude yourself.
When has he ever treated you gently?
That’s right. Never.
My mind filled with self-interrogation, a desperate debate to protect what remained of my sanity.
Yes. This is nothing. I simply failed to obey an order properly and got scolded. The demerit points sting, but… calm down. Calm down. At least I’m getting washed.
Door sealed. Laundry cycle commencing. Measuring current inmate contamination level.
The moment Leviathan shut the door, the same mechanical voice I had heard in the torture chamber echoed inside the cramped space. Because the chamber itself was so small, the voice sounded smaller too, and was not especially grating.
Still—what form would the water torture take?
Thanks to Yejin’s advance warning I already knew the bath was conducted as water torture. The problem was that I had no idea of the precise method.
Current inmate contamination level: 74%
I guessed the classic form would be asphyxiation. A glance around the interior was enough to sketch the shape of the ordeal. Looking out from inside the machine felt like being sealed inside a test tube. The walls were metal throughout, yet the front was clear glass. I could not hear sound, but I could see everything beyond. Seeing, however, was not the same as opening. There was no way to unlatch the door from within, and the thickness of the hatch I had glimpsed before it closed was more than a handspan.
In a space like this, the water would rise from the bottom.
Washing will continue until the inmate’s contamination level falls below 3%.
Suddenly I remembered the classic BDSM videos I used to watch. The label called Water Bound specialized exclusively in the concept of women restrained and subjected to water torture; most of the performers had to gasp under fierce jets or thrash inside tanks filled to the brim until they could barely breathe. Some people wondered how anyone could find sexual excitement in that, yet personally I had loved those films. Every time I watched a bound actress thrash her body in the extreme terror of drowning unless someone pulled her free, a desire had stirred inside me: I wanted to become that woman myself.
Commencing first wash cycle.
Perhaps I could finally fill that old fantasy now. The only regret was that I was not bound. Yet if I were locked inside a space this narrow and forced to endure, even without restraints I thought I might be satisfied.
“Hoo….”
Tension, excitement, and dread—all of them overlapping—escaped in a single breath.
In that instant—
—Whooooooshhhhhh—
A violent rush of water sounded from somewhere I had not yet examined. I turned toward the noise and found it coming from directly overhead. The moment I tilted my face upward—
—Whooooooooshhhhhhhhh—
“Pffft!! Upuh! Haa! Uht!”
Water crashed down. It was no ordinary stream. Like a full-ceiling sunflower showerhead, the deluge poured from every part of the roof, not merely falling but jetting with such force that the phrase “blasted by water pressure” was the only accurate description. It hammered the crown of my head.
“Pffft!! Puhhk… haugh! Upupu! Pffft…!”
Hair plastered itself to my skin; the cascade veiled my face. Unable to breathe, I covered my face with both hands and managed only the thinnest sips of air through the gaps between my fingers. Even so it was agony. Above all—
It hurts…!
The fierce pressure struck not only my head but every inch of my body, reopening wounds that had not yet healed. The bruised thighs and breasts were especially murderous. The instant the jets touched them, pain as if my whole body were being crushed flooded through me. And the water was ice-cold. I had never expected hot water, yet neither had I imagined water cold enough to feel laced with ice. My body reacted on pure instinct, trying to shield the most painful spots with both arms.
But—
“Puuuuu!! Puhhat…! Achoo! Puuuut!”
—it did not last. The moment I could no longer breathe, the only choice left was to abandon defense and secure an airway. It hurt so much. It was so unbearable. If only the jets had been a little gentler…!
“Haa. Haa. Haa. Pffft. Haa.”
Trapped motionless beneath the endless pour, I felt my powerlessness with new clarity. The sole mercy was that as water began to pool inside, parts of my body submerged and the pain lessened a fraction. That mercy, too, was short-lived.
“Ugh… uuugh…. Haa…. Pffft! Ha… uuugh.”
It was cold. Ice-water rising from the floor made my lower half feel as if it would freeze solid. I half expected frostbite. My body shivered violently; coughing fits tore free.
“Achoo…! Pffft… haa. Haa. Uuugh….”
In only a few minutes—no, a few dozen seconds—I had been driven to the brink. Already the water had climbed to the level of my chest.
“Please… open it. C-cold… pffft…! Puuuu… upuh…! Haa. Haa.”
When the water reached the region of my heart, breathing grew labored. At first, when only my lower half had been submerged, I had thought it was simply filling to the volume that poured in. Now half my torso was under, and the water was racing toward my throat; the terror that I might actually die surged up.
Of course, given the nature of Prison Island, they would stop short of killing me… yet a fragment of conversation with the counselor at Waltz Production floated back unbidden.
“There have been cases of psychological treatment or critical condition from unexpected accidents, but never a fatal accident.”
Why that particular line returned to me now I could not say, yet the certainty of approaching death was absolute. True, killing terror rose.
A body turning to ice. Water at my chin. How long would I have to hold my breath in this narrow space before release came? I had never practiced diving. How many seconds I could last, how much I could endure—I myself did not know, and that ignorance only magnified the dread.
“Pffft…! Uht!”
In the end I could not bear the fear and tried to stand.
But—
“Kyaugh! Ah… ahhhk! Pffft! U… pffft”
—the rods buried in cunt and ass stopped me cold. Whether because they had been forced in so roughly or because they possessed some additional function, the instant I moved my legs both holes flared with searing pain, as if they would tear me open from the inside if I dared shift further.
Only then did I understand why the washing machine contained no restraints or extra devices. The sealed door and the two rods alone were enough to immobilize any movement; the high-pressure jets would scour the body raw. No other equipment was required.
In other words, I had been thrown naked into the most primitive of water jets.
“Upuh! Puuu…!! Puhhk…! Hauuu!”
The water climbed higher, lapping at my mouth. To breathe I would have had to tip my head back and endure, yet that would only offer my face fully to the ceiling jets; I could not bring myself to do it. In the end I could hold out only a few more seconds.
“Puhhu…! Upuh!! Gurgle…! Kehhk…! Puh! Glurk!”
At last the water covered my mouth and then my nose. Eyes squeezed shut, I pinched my nostrils and held my breath.
It hurts…! I can’t breathe…!
Completely submerged in the cramped chamber. Even then the jets from above continued to hammer the top of my skull, multiplying the torment. Worse, with no sign that the water would recede, I began to doubt whether holding my breath was even the correct response.
One second… two… five… ten.
I kept my nose pinched, yet with every passing second the agony of oxygen starvation intensified. My lungs burned; a crushing tightness closed in.
How much longer must I hold on? Will this water ever drain?
In the grip of extreme terror I opened the eyes I had been squeezing shut. Staring only at the darkness behind my lids seemed certain to plunge me into still deeper panic. The instant the icy water flooded my eyeballs, what appeared through the blurred vision was—
“…!! …!”
—Leviathan’s face. His sharp gaze was fixed on me inside the machine.
“Kehhk! Gurgle…!! …!! …!!!. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Shock forced out the last of the air I had been hoarding. At the same moment the surrounding water surged into nose and mouth with terrifying force.
Khhhhhh!!!! I can’t breathe!
No! I’m dying!! I’m going to die!!
It hurts! My chest hurts! Let me breathe! Open it!! Save me!!
It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! I’m dying! It hurts!
Stop!!!!!!