Reimprisonment
Once reimprisonment had been decided, the first place I headed was the corridor enclosed by double and triple layers of iron bars.
I only learned it later, but because the detention center was inseparable from the executions, a connecting passage linked it to the prison itself.
I had lost consciousness during the execution and retained no memory of it, yet we had been moved to the detention center through that passage, and we would have to use it again on the way back.
"Stand still."
"…Yes."
Simply for having met an outsider, I was subjected to a meticulous body search. They checked whether anything foreign had been hidden inside my prison uniform, whether I had concealed something in any of my bodily orifices—every kind of inspection was carried out, and every step of it was deliberately humiliating.
"Spread."
"Nngh… haah…. Uuuh."
"Getting off on this, are you? Hmm?"
"Kyaah…!"
Leviathan claimed he needed to make sure nothing was hidden inside my womb and began toying with my clitoris. Next my anus was forcibly pried open by his fingers and searched all the way inside.
While I had been locked in the detention center they had used ordinary enemas rather than the jelly ones, so the shame of having that forcibly dilated hole searched felt more intense than anything I had endured since first being confined on Prison Island.
Inmate detected in Zone A-7.
"This is Leviathan. Proceeding with reimprisonment of Inmate A713."
Confirmed. Gate open.
The iron door opened. It seemed the doors were operated exclusively by the control room. Every time a single door needed to open, Leviathan contacted them, and only with their permission did the heavy door swing open with a solemn clang.
Watching it happen made my imprisoned status feel all the more absolute. The anxiety and the same fluttering dread I had felt the first time I was locked away returned in full.
Barefoot, I advanced one step at a time down the long corridor. With every successive iron door that opened, fear pressed in harder.
And then, before the final iron door.
Leviathan stopped beneath the neon sign that read those words.
"All right. Once you pass through this door, a prisoner's life begins again."
He spoke without looking at me. I bit my lip.
Strictly speaking, from the moment I arrived on Prison Island I had never once left a prisoner's life behind. So what did he mean by "a prisoner's life" now?
His next explanation, however, was something I could fully understand.
"Before you go through the door I'll give you a chance to ask questions. If there's anything you've forgotten about the Prisoner's Oath or the inmate regulations, ask now. I'll tell you without punishment."
The "prisoner's life" he meant was not the oppression of my present condition. It was simply consideration—help so that I would not receive unnecessary punishments during the process of readjusting to the space I was about to re-enter.
At the offer I released the tension I had been holding with a single long breath. Then, carefully, I asked again about the Prisoner's Oath and the few points in the rules he had once taught me that still felt ambiguous.
"Good. I'll answer."
Fortunately Leviathan answered everything I asked without attaching any conditions. Questions about things an inmate was not supposed to know, or about additional programs, were cut off, but his replies covered everything I had already experienced, along with several cautionary notes related to the executions.
"…Lastly, if a suitable program isn't developed, they may simply repeat what they did last time for the executions. And because of the incident involving A688, there's a high chance the prison's programs themselves will change. So don't let your guard down based on past experience. Always stay tense and afraid of execution."
Still the kind Leviathan. Yet I already knew, even without him saying it: the moment I stepped through the door in front of me, he would transform back into the guard I had always known.
"…Yes. I understand. Thank you."
He might truly feel something for me, but even if he did, I could not lean on him. I carved that truth into my heart as I offered my thanks.
"Good. Then open your mouth."
"…Yes."
What followed was the additional disposition ordered by the verdict. A box sat ready in front of the door; inside it were the items prepared in advance for the sentence I was to receive in exchange for the suspension of my execution. Just as the judge had said, the gag and the Special Handcuffs I would have to wear for three days were there.
"Ah… mmpph."
The gag went on first. It was a ball gag—and a Harness Gag at that. Unlike an ordinary ball gag that simply buckled behind the head, the Harness Gag had additional straps that climbed up the cheeks, crossed over the crown, and locked behind the neck, plus a strap that wrapped under the jaw. Once it was on, any attempt to push it out with the tongue was completely blocked. The ball itself was large; I had to open my mouth as wide as it would go to take it.
With the ball clenched between my teeth and every harness strap drawn tight, my entire head felt caught in a net of pressure.
Next came the Special Handcuffs. At first I had wondered what they even were… but the moment I saw them I realized the three-day sentence was harsher than I had thought. I had believed the fasting would be the worst of it. The gag and the Special Handcuffs were worse.
The Special Handcuffs were steel spherical restraints. You placed your hands into the circular frames that split in half, closed them, and locked the wrist sections; until the cuffs were removed, your fists remained clenched inside the metal shells, unable to open. In short, they were handcuffs that completely sealed off written communication.
"You didn't actually think the guards were unaware that inmates exchange notes, did you? Wipe that half-assed look off your face and put your hands in."
"…Hnnph."
The moment every means of expression was about to be cut off. As I hesitated in front of him, Leviathan wrapped an arm around my shoulders. His expression had already switched fully into guard mode.
"Mmph…."
Now that it had come to this, hesitation was no longer an option. Once he showed the face of a guard, I too had to return completely to the face of an inmate if I wanted to avoid Demeanor Penalty Points.
Carefully I slid my hands into the circular frames. The cuffs had been prepared to fit the exact size of my fists. The interior was lined with soft sponge; once my fists were inside there was almost no gap left.
— Click.
The moment my hands were in, the cuffs locked. The split circular frames closed, a padlock went through the rings at the wrists, and that was it. Even that alone made my hands useless, yet Leviathan also linked the two wrists with a short chain and bound them behind my back. Both arms were gathered behind me, unable to move freely; with my fingers sealed as well, it was as if my entire arms no longer existed.
I tried, just in case, to open my hands. They would not open even a fraction. At best my fingernails could lift a hair's breadth from my palms.
For the next three days, written notes would be impossible. And with the gag in my mouth as well, the only expression left to me was shaking my head.
"Hmm. No abnormalities."
Finally Leviathan ran the scanning device used for body measurements over various parts of me. From the way he checked my forearms and around my face, he seemed to be confirming that blood was still circulating properly.
"All right. Let's go."
"Phh…."
Already saliva was pooling in my mouth. With the gag sealing my lips, my tongue pressed down, and the Harness Gag clamping my jaw joint, I could not swallow properly. But there was no other way. Just as during my sentence, I would simply have to live like this for the duration of the disposition.
Opening final gate.
"Confirmed. Entering."
— Clang.
Once the fittings were complete, I headed back into the prison. Following Leviathan, I stepped into the Execution Area that lay before us.
We crossed the Execution Area. Only a few days had passed, yet traces of the execution still remained in the center. The extinguished bonfire, the cross that had not yet been dismantled, and… the branding iron and the large nails still crusted with dried blood lying on the floor all brought that nightmare flooding back.
"What are you doing? Move!"
"…Nnngh!"
On top of that, Leviathan had fully returned to his usual stern guard self. Whether everything until now had been an act or whether this was the act, I could no longer tell; the affection I had felt from him now seemed like nothing more than a delusion born of one-sided longing.
The discomfort of the gag and the weight of the Special Handcuffs slowed my steps, yet knowing that, Leviathan still deliberately came close every time I fell behind and kicked me in the calves. Through the stinging pain I had to cross the entire Execution Area.
Once we passed through the execution-ground doors and entered the corridor, a quiet atmosphere greeted us. Judging by the feel of the place, the torture period had just ended.
Sure enough, the place Leviathan took me was the cell. Arriving at the familiar door, he picked up the leg irons that had been left outside, fastened them around my ankles, opened the iron door, and shoved me inside.
"In."
"…Nnngh."
I answered with a moan, dropped to my knees, and crawled into the cell. Inside, Ye-jin—who had arrived first—and Jae-hee and Ruia, whose faces I was seeing again after a long time, were waiting with their backs against the wall.
"…."
"Phh…."
I carefully lowered my head as I entered; the saliva that had been swirling in my mouth spilled over my chin and soaked the front of my prison uniform. Feeling the clammy wetness, I moved deeper into the cell. My fellow inmates shifted aside to make space; with difficulty I found a spot and leaned my back against the wall.
The moment I settled—
— Boom. Clang.
The iron door closed with a heavy sound. Leviathan left without a single word.
Inside the damp cell I closed my eyes and opened them several times, waiting for them to adjust to the dark. When I could finally see enough to look around, my companions were watching me with worried faces. Among them was Ye-jin, who had already been through her own trial.
There was a difference between us, though. Sitting beside me, she gently rested her fingers on my thigh.
Okay? Gag. Cuffs? Harsh.
Unlike me, she was wearing neither gag nor handcuffs. Ye-jin's execution had been suspended just like mine, so she must have received some form of disposition, yet nothing of it showed on the surface.
I wanted to ask her about it. But I had no way to express myself. The Special Handcuffs had sealed off written notes, and every time I tried to make a sound through the gag, only useless drool spilled out. The only expression left was a tilt of the head.
"Nnngh…."
Hoping she would understand, I looked at Ye-jin and cocked my head to the side, deliberately adding a little sound. Would she answer my question…?
Her fingers moved.
Me. Disposition. Spore. Clit. Injected.
We had shared the same space and the same time long enough that Ye-jin could read the meaning in my moan. Her disposition was no less severe than mine. Every inmate here knew exactly how vicious the spores' stimulation could be—the other cruel master that kept us tense twenty-four hours a day without a single moment of rest. That was where we felt the spores.
Even when they only tormented our nipples it was agony. Ye-jin had had that vicious thing—something that might vibrate, torment, pinch, or bring a caress-like rush of pleasure at any moment—injected into her clitoris.
"Nnngh… hnnph… sss."
Okay. Rest.
I wanted to ask how long her sentence lasted as well, but unfortunately that meaning did not get through. In the end I could attempt no further communication.
Ye-jin worried me, yet Jae-hee and Ruia did not look well either. I did not know what they had endured during the torture period, but both of their cheeks were swollen. Jae-hee in particular could barely open her eyes. Even so, they seemed concerned about me; they shifted their bodies and tried to start a conversation through written notes. To their questions I could only answer with nods of my head, and in the end we exchanged nothing more than a few mutual reassurances about our worries before curling into positions that would let everyone sleep.
But…
"Phh… mmph…! Nngh…."
It was not easy. The Special Handcuffs did more than simply block written notes. The spherical cuffs made it hard to press my back flat against the wall. With ordinary handcuffs I could have adjusted my posture just by opening my hands, but these bulkier cuffs wrapped my fists and sat as a solid mass behind my waist, so I could not rest my lower back against the wall. I either had to leave a little space or find another position entirely.
Yet the narrowness of the cell made changing positions impossible. In the end, so that the others could settle comfortably, I lay on my side with my hips slightly pulled away from the wall.
Lean more. Okay.
Unnie. A little farther forward. Fine to lean.
Once they realized my discomfort, my companions shifted little by little to adjust their own positions. Even Jae-hee, who had not been writing notes, changed her posture for me. In that way we ended up lying tangled together, each resting her head against another's chest. It was more uncomfortable than usual, but after several minutes of wrestling with the cuffs and leg irons it was the best we could manage.
"…Hoo."
"Zzz…."
Once the positions were set, Jae-hee and Ruia—exhausted from the torture—fell asleep first. I, however, could not drop off so easily. Even with my companions' help I had found a relatively comfortable posture, yet the unexpected discomfort of the Harness Gag clamping my jaw joint kept sleep at bay. On top of that, the brief stay in the detention center had eased our usual exhaustion, so I had not reached the state of physical collapse that would have let me sleep at once.
And the same was true of Ye-jin.
"Hyaah…! Nngh… nngh…! Ah… ahhk…!"
She had to endure the spores' stimulation in a form even more intense than ours. The thigh pressed against my head trembled violently.