082. C District Conquered by One Hit Product!? Renting the Portable Owner Hole Case
The next day, Sylvia and I headed to C District. For some reason, there were a ton of guys milling around. Being in this city meant they were all witches' slaves, right?
We were looking around, wondering why we couldn't spot many witches, when a guy wearing ear cuffs approached us.
"First time in C District?"
"Uh? Yeah... something like that."
What the hell? Why's this pretty boy talking to us? Wary of his good looks, I stepped in front of Sylvia and answered.
He smiled at my reaction... and patted his bag.
Ew. A cute guy's smile. Can't handle it.
His bag was huge, but he carried it effortlessly, like it weighed nothing. My guess? Either the contents were light, or it had some weight-reduction magic. Or both.
Then he cupped his hand to his ear like he was on a call. What the fuck is this guy doing?
"Ma'am? I need you to wake up for a sec."
He nodded as if he'd gotten a response, set the bag down, and laid it on its side with the handle facing us.
"Please wait just a moment. I'll get my owner out."
Get his owner out? What the hell does that mean? I had a gut feeling another cultural shock was coming.
He pressed his fingers to the bottom of the bag—at an angle hidden from us and Sylvia—and twisted his wrist. With a click, the base, about the size of a kid's head, detached.
No fucking way.
Three sticky, viscous rods covered in slime slid out with a squelch. Then a powerful whoosh sprayed out, soaking the street.
Pshh!Pssshhh!Pssst!
"A bit longer, please? She's been in there a while."
Sylvia, watching the spectacle, clung to me tight, wedging her thighs around my leg.
No doubt about it—there was a person in that bag. And obviously... a witch.
My head throbbed from the shocking reality. Sylvia, on the other hand, was already sparkling with excitement.
Aigoo, ma'am.
The detached base in his hand wasn't leather. Looked more like rubber or chitin. The outer handle side was pitch black, with urethral beads, a dildo, and anal beads protruding in three neat rows—like they'd been inserted into a pussy.
Whoa. All three are ridiculously brutal-looking.
"Ah, she'll explain herself once she's out of orgasm hell, but these ridges on the dildo? Just options. It's based on the slave's actual cock."
Got it. So it's your dick. Put that shit away. Staring at the bulging dildo made me picture his junk, and it pissed me off.
"Didn't ask."
"Haha, sorry."
Don't laugh, asshole.
Even as we talked, the bag kept spraying fluids in spurts. Sylvia buried her face against my side, peeking glances while subtly rubbing her crotch on my leg. She was getting turned on.
My masochist owner's tastes know no bounds.
I waited in a mix of dismay and arousal, and soon the fountain tapered off. He slowly opened the lid, and a flash of light burst out.
As the glare faded, a figure sat up from the bag. She'd clearly been in orgasm pickling, but she was in dry clothes, not a drop of sweat—probably dried off and freshened up with magic in seconds.
The witch rose shakily, and the guy steadied her.
"Mwah♡ Thanks."
"My pleasure."
In the witches' city, even guys like this exist. Seeing them flow so naturally from pervy shit to affection made me reflect a bit. All the stuff I'd done with Sylvia in public... might've embarrassed others.
...But witches are pervs who love this crap, right?
With his support, she stepped out of the bag onto the ground, still twitching from orgasm aftershocks. It was awkward as hell to look at her.
After a deep breath, she introduced herself.
"Nice to meet you newbies to C District. I'm Casey. Wondering why you couldn't see any witches?"
"Yes!! I think I get the reason now!!"
Sylvia's enthusiastic reply. Yeah, I had a pretty good idea too. Every guy around had ear cuffs and massive bags big enough for a person.
Couldn't miss it. All the witches were inside those...
"This case is called the 'Portable Owner Hole.' I just finished developing it. Taking volunteers for performance testing right now. Hehe. It's so popular that everyone visiting C District signed up... you get it?"
That's why only slave-bag carriers were visible. And the name—Portable Owner Hole? Insane. These local witches were on another level!
—Not that I could say shit. My owner invented the safe Limb Severance Device.
Sylvia was hooked instantly and wanted to sign up right away.
"Me! Any left? There has to be!"
"Lucky—got some stock. But it doesn't include hole plugs, so you'll need to buy those separately."
"I! Have! Them!! Just need the bag!! Hurry, give it to me...!"
Her ruby eyes blazed redder with excitement.
"Ahaha. Follow me. Should have inventory in my workshop."
I followed the hyped Sylvia and rented the bag. Casey explained how it worked.
"Inside, movement and sound are completely sealed. Communication only via these ear cuffs—slave must wear them at all times."
I clipped the ear-shaped things behind my ears. Sylvia was so revved she looked ready to cram herself in right then.
I held her back, wanting more details. She froze obediently when I grabbed her wrist—slave contract perks.
Casey giggled at Sylvia's eagerness before starting.
"Hehe. Usually bitches read manuals closely, but this product's the opposite. They all wanna try it on sight."
Makes sense. Super well done.
Inside, screams are fully blocked—no external sound gets in either. Harsh. Plus weight-reduction magic; interior softens when opening for entry, hardens post-seal to immobilize completely.
Hard to picture. Like a blood pressure cuff?
Lay bag sideways, witch enters in toilet pose, close and lock the many clasps. She's trapped, lightweight and ready to carry.
Trapped. And they like that? Right, masochists.
"She'll squirt fluids from every hole nonstop, but no worries. Made for nobles—they endure extremes. Interior absorbs moisture perfectly."
'Got it. So eloquent yet vulgar.'
"As you saw, detach the base—has mounts for urethral, pussy, and ass rods. Slot three types in, and your Portable Owner Hole is complete."
"So... so amazing...!"
"Oh! Everyone loves it, but don't cut communication—emergencies happen. And per the name, detach the base now and then for onahole use."
"Oooonahole...! Onahole...!!"
Her ecstatic face chanting "onahole" with that pretty mug made my cheeks burn. Was I the only normal one holding back?
Voice relay magic inside connects only to ear cuffs. Total sound block out, body rigid in discomfort—only comms line. If she can't take it, beg the slave to let her out. Slave never removes cuffs.
This okay? Insane.
"...How about wheels on the bottom? Lightweight already, but rolling it'd be easier."
"...Huh!? Genius idea! Easier for slave, harsher for owner...!"
Casey lit up at my offhand suitcase thought. I felt sheepish, but Sylvia smugly shrugged like she thought of it.
Too cute... But soon cramming this cute owner into that bag.
"Hehe! Wheels going in ASAP. Days like this fuel my passion—tons to improve."
They vanished into the workshop, leaving us alone. Sylvia's expectant gaze hit me.
Put her in? Or not?
She clasped her hands, eyes sparkling. Guess I have to...
Resigned, I stripped her and helped her into toilet pose in the soft interior.
"Ehehe!"
"Having way too much fun?"
"But~ look at this! What bitch wouldn't love it!?"
...My tastes still have far to go. Can't beat her perv level ever.
Shocking—I was aroused by this pervy bag too. She'd infected me bad.
Flexible as ever, she sank into the squishy inside. I detached the base, slotted urethral beads and two dildos from my subspace pouch, fixed 'em in. Like a trident.
Dick-shaped, though.
"N-Now close it!? Close, right!?"
Naked in toilet pose, her face flushed as she asked.
"Yeah. Speak up if issues—keeping these on."
"Got it! Hurry! Lock me in!"
She was thrilled. What could a slave do?
"Hnnnght..." Thud... click. Click. Click. Click.
Lowered the top, sealed all clasps. Sylvia's giggles vanished completely.
I touched the cuff. "Sylvia? Hear me?"
"Yeah. Sounds nice."
"Yeah, yeah. Enjoy."
Heh heh. Why was I grinning too? This shit was fucked up.
But I had more for her. Aimed the trident—er, base—at her bald pussy and ass, fully exposed.
Spread her lips—pussy juice already drooling. Aligned beads to her tiny piss hole, dildo to her snug entrance. Moan from the cuff.
Shook to align ass dildo.
Her holes winked ridiculously. I warned her.
"Sylvia. Can't insert separately— all at once. Relax for real."
Released her squishy labia. Held the base, shoved forward hard.
Squelch!
Her squirt leaked a bit, but I pushed harder, fully seating them. Her tight holes clenched, threatening to pop 'em out. Pressed firm, twisted the handle—outer faces aligned, sealing the hole perfectly.
Her moans burst during insertion—no helping it. Eased off; no trace left. Just a big bag now. No one'd guess a person's inside.
"On Earth, this'd be mad dangerous."
"Nothing."
Grabbed the handle, lifted vertically.
Clunk—