The Outcome of the Disposition
“Ah… nn… nngh… hua. Hua. Ah… nngh!”
At first they all thought it was just the spores acting up. They knew that whenever a strange sensation hit the nipples in the small hours, a person had no choice but to wake; so even after hearing Ye-jin’s moans, the narrator and every other cellmate pretended not to notice out of consideration. It was the unspoken rule they kept so no one would feel guilty toward anyone else. Knowing that, the one causing the disturbance simply clenched her teeth and endured. She bit her lip to muffle the sounds, or, when it became too much, tickled someone else’s thigh to ask for help.
But the Ye-jin of tonight was different.
“Ah… nngh… hua… hnnn…! Nn… nngh…!”
Her moans filled the cell. On any ordinary night Ye-jin would have fought to keep them under control, yet something was clearly wrong. The narrator, head resting against Ye-jin’s chest, realized it first and opened her eyes to look.
Ye-jin’s condition was serious.
“…!”
“Nn… nha… nngh…! Nn… nngh…!”
She had already risen from her place and was trembling against the wall. Even though the ceiling was too low to stand upright, she kept crouching as if trying to rise, repeatedly banging the crown of her head against it, shackles clanking while she rubbed her thighs together.
Her violent moans woke everyone.
“Nngh… nngh… Die… fuck…! Nipples… clit… both at once…! Everything… kyaaaah!!!”
“…!”
Unable to bear it any longer, Ye-jin spoke. For uttering anything other than a moan she was immediately punished with an electric shock. The jolt to her throat cut the sound short; she gasped with her mouth open in pure pain, but only for a moment. The sexual torment of the spores was so fierce that she forgot the pain and now drove her head into the prison floor, thrashing her body.
“Ah… ahh… I’m— I’m coming…! Keeeek!!”
“…!”
Once more she opened her mouth under the stimulation and took another shock. Pitying her, Jae-hee—who was closest—moved in and pressed her body against Ye-jin’s, intending to bite the overstimulated nipples and quiet them.
“Mmm… mmph!!”
When the spores’ writhing was driven mainly by arousal, biting alone could hardly calm them, yet Jae-hee did it anyway to ease Ye-jin’s suffering. More than that, if they did not soothe her, none of them would sleep.
“Ah… nn… nha…! Kngh!”
It was not enough. What tormented Ye-jin most were the spores injected into her clitoris. No matter how hard Jae-hee bit and soothed the nipples, Ye-jin’s state did not improve in the slightest. She kept thrashing, now rubbing her whole body against the asphalt wall, desperate to drown the spores’ movement with any other stimulus, even self-harm. Watching that desperate struggle, the others wanted to do something—anything—but in the cramped space their options were limited. Hands and feet were bound; even trying was difficult. Still, they had to act. Seeing a comrade’s eyes roll back in agony was bad enough, and if they did not rest their exhausted bodies, everyone risked Demeanor Penalty Points the next day.
What method, then?
After a silent debate conducted by notes, they reached a conclusion: bring Ye-jin to climax. Even with spores inside the clitoris, a human body that has once reached orgasm enters a refractory period. The same held for women. If they dulled her body, perhaps Ye-jin would find a little relief even if the spores kept stimulating her. Of course it was only a guess, nothing certain. What if she never reached that quiet phase and instead cascaded into multiple orgasms? They might simply be throwing more wood onto an already blazing fire. Yet they had to try. The spores showed no sign of quieting, and they could not simply sit and watch a comrade suffer.
Unnie. I’ll suck it. Move aside.
The one who stepped up was Ruia, who felt the least resistance toward same-sex contact. At her resolve, the narrator and Jae-hee—having read the note—pressed themselves into opposite corners as tightly as possible. That shift created just enough space for one person to lie face-down in front of Ye-jin.
“Nn… nngh… nngh…! Ha… nnnn! Kngh!”
Ye-jin’s moans grew louder still, so loud they feared her voice would give out. Ruia tried to soothe her with another note, but Ye-jin, thrashing continuously, had no room to notice. She only flailed to escape the fierce stimulation racing through her body. In the end the narrator and Jae-hee pressed close and restrained her. The moment skin met skin, a spark of awareness returned to Ye-jin’s dazed eyes; she saw Ruia already lying between her legs and her eyes filled with tears.
“Mmph… nngh…!”
Shame flooded Ye-jin’s face. For all her strong body and the willpower that usually let her endure, she had been defeated by mere stimulation; the wretchedness of her state was plain. Even bound in cuffs and shackles she seemed to feel sorry for the comrade who was about to put her head between her legs. Yet she too understood there was no other way. Swallowing the thick shame, Ye-jin spread her thighs.
“Nn… nngh…! Hah…!”
The scent of a woman’s secretions rose thickly from between the opened legs, filling the entire cell. Following that path, Ruia extended her tongue and slowly sought Ye-jin’s clitoris.
“Ah… aaa…!! Ahh…! Nngh…!!”
Fortunately the clitoris was easy to find—no, there was no need to search at all. Tormented to the extreme by the spores, it stood stiff and twitching like a man’s cock. Tiny though it was, its violent movement made it unmistakable. Ruia took it between her lips and rolled her tongue slowly, pouring still more excitement into Ye-jin’s body.
“Mmph! Ah… kngh! Nngh.”
Sweat poured from Ye-jin as she moaned in torment. Even in the dark cell her face burned as if it would burst; the narrator could see she needed something more if she was ever to find relief. Jae-hee felt the same. Their eyes met by chance, and each set out in her own way to soothe Ye-jin.
“Tssup… mm… hnn…”
“Ah… ahh… nn… nnnn…!”
Jae-hee took a nipple into her mouth again and rolled it as before. This time the reaction was different. With external stimulation already on the clitoris, the new layer of sensation overlapping the spores became fresh fuel that filled Ye-jin with arousal.
“Nn… nha… aaa…!”
A little more and they could send her over. The narrator could not simply watch either.
“Mmph… mmph! Hnnn!”
With her mouth gagged there was almost nothing she could do; her hands were locked in the circular cuffs, so caressing was impossible. Yet she improvised: she brought her own gag to Ye-jin’s mouth. Pressing it against her like a kiss, she let the slightly parted lips meet her own.
“Nn… mmph! Mmph!”
Neither of them was inclined toward women, yet the kiss was soft and became a mutual support. Ye-jin, who had been pouring out moans, bit the narrator’s gag at an angle as if it were her own, clearly wanting the extra sense of being sealed and the masochistic weight it brought. To grant that wish the narrator and Jae-hee pressed even closer, heightening the feeling of restraint.
“Kngh! Mmph! Hnnnnnn!!”
When everyone’s efforts finally reached her, Ye-jin shuddered and twitched. At last she climaxed and felt it fully.
“Nn… nngh… haa. Haa. Haa.”
They drew back a little to watch her. After so long under the spores and their own stimulation, Ye-jin leaned against the wall as if drained, breathing hard again and again. The warm breath leaving her parted lips gradually quieted.
“Huu—”
Having found a measure of calm, Ye-jin looked around at them and slowly bowed her head. At first they only rolled their eyes, unsure what it meant; then they realized it was her way of saying thank you, and they smiled faintly. For some reason the tight-lipped expression on Ye-jin’s face looked almost cute.
“Haa. Haa. Hu…”
Of course the spores had not stopped. Yet Ye-jin lay down as though she felt a little better, and they took that as the signal to tangle together again and close their eyes, using one another’s body heat as a stove. The night was still long, but time was short. To shake off the day’s exhaustion, they had to fall asleep quickly.
That night, as on every other, they woke and dozed in turns. Ye-jin thrashed awake several more times afterward. Still, whether it was milder than the first assault or the intensity had simply dropped, she managed to fall back asleep without their help. Even so, the Stimulation Spores in their nipples alone forced them through a night of suffering. On top of that the narrator had the gag and the cuffs; light dozing was the best she could manage. She woke several times from the alien feel of the gag, and the clammy sweat that had gathered inside the circular cuffs made deep sleep nearly impossible.
Morning arrived that way. Still carrying more fatigue than usual, they rose in a daze.
— Clank.
“Cell 3. Out.”
The iron door opened and Leviathan called them as always. Even after several days in the detention house, the fear engraved in their bodies made the narrator force her eyes open at his voice. She crawled out onto the floor. Clenching her teeth as she emerged, she suddenly noticed how much her jaw joint ached.
“Numbers.”
“A522!”
“A691!”
“A711!”
“….”
Leviathan stood before the cell and watched them all come out, then ordered them to recite their numbers. They called them in the usual numerical order—except the narrator could not.
“Hm.”
While she could only watch with her mouth sealed, everyone else finished. When her turn came, Leviathan, who had been eyeing her, let out a small sigh and stepped close. Then, with deliberate force, he seized her breast.
“Kngh!!”
The sudden act left her startled only for an instant. The crushing grip that seemed ready to burst the mammary gland itself forced tears to her eyes as she thrashed. It hurt too much. A woman’s vital point was being mauled without mercy; a dizzying pain flooded her. Yet he did not stop with one hand.
“Kh… mmph!! Fmmph!”
Both hands reached out to toy with her breasts. Looking down at her, Leviathan said:
“Number.”
Even with the gag in place he made her speak her number. Strictly speaking she had decided on her own not to speak what she was supposed to say, yet forcing a gagged prisoner to do so was hard to understand by any ordinary logic.
“Mmph… f… A-seven-thirteen-fmmph!”
Understanding or not, she had to call the number without hesitation. She was a prisoner; she had come here precisely to receive this kind of treatment. Whether she understood was irrelevant. Once an order was given, she had to obey it for as long as it continued.
“Good. Looks like a few days in detention softened you. Do it properly.”
“Heh…”
The pronunciation was crushed by the gag, yet the moment she finished speaking Leviathan released the breast he had been holding. Afraid another punishment might follow, she answered through the gag. It was unfair, yet in her present state she felt she ought to be grateful simply that it had not led to Demeanor Penalty Points.
“Now that you’ve spoken, A713. Begin the Prisoner’s Oath.”
The oath followed. Having already been warned once, she forced her gagged mouth to move and began the Prisoner’s Oath, leaving as much space as possible between gag and lips so the pronunciation would not be faulted.
“Feh-ee-uh-uhn!”
It still sounded nothing like human speech, but he seemed willing to overlook that much. When she finished the oath on her knees, Leviathan nodded and ordered Ye-jin, next in line, to recite it. In that moment the narrator understood she would have to spend the next three days spouting nonsense that barely resembled language. Being gagged did not mean she could simply stay silent. It meant living like a beast that only barked strange sounds. Was that not the true purpose of the punishment laid upon her? A fresh wave of wretchedness rose as she felt her humanity being stripped away once more.
“Breakfast begins now. Open your mouths.”
But that was only the beginning. From the basket he had brought, Leviathan took out three familiar brown lumps. There was none for her.
“A713.”
“Hnn… fmmph!”
Or rather, there was something, but it was not food.
“You’re fasting. While your cellmates finish their meal, put this on and jump in place.”
What he held out was a pair of slender iron clamps barely a millimeter wide. He approached, pulled the breasts he had already mauled freely out of her prisoner uniform, and clamped one of the clamps dead-center on a nipple.
At the same instant her ability to think vanished.
The pain of the clamp was… as if—
“Fmmph! …!! Mmph!!”
—as if the nipple itself were being cut off.