1. Jin Seungyeon (5)
Chirp, chirp, chirp—
My bedroom sat above ground. Sunlight streamed through the broad window and spilled across the edge of the bed without catching so much as a mote of dust.
I rose, drank the ade that had been set out for me, and finished a light workout.
Then I opened the slave storage cabinet waiting in one corner of the living room and took one of them out. I put on some music and slid the thing under my crotch.
Schlik. Gluck. Schlop.
Without needing to be told, it was serving me with its throat pussy, and I looked down at it in silence.
Then, out of nowhere, I thought of her.
I pressed the call button sitting at one end of the table. The puppet waiting outside the door asked what I needed.
I told him to clear out every slave kept in the house. They could play with them, cash them out, or turn them loose in the Playground — I didn't care. But that one, they were to bring to me. There — the second shelf of the display case. Somewhere I could see straight from the bedroom seemed like a good spot for her.
Thud. Screeeech—.
"Have you eaten, Ms. Seungyeon?"
"...No."
She was nowhere to be seen. Past the bed, it looked like she'd dragged the blanket down with her and slept on the floor.
"Why are you doing this to yourself?"
I held my hand out to her. A hand hovering in the air, offered without a word. Her eyes wavered hard, as if she were weighing what would happen if she took it against what would happen if she didn't.
But I'm not patient enough for that.
"Fine, then."
And I drew my hand back.
"A-ah..."
"Ms. Seungyeon."
"Y-yes. Manager..."
"Three hours. No... I'll see you in four."
"...What?"
I gave her nothing more. But when the iron door closed — and when it opened again to masked puppets pouring in instead of me — her screams told me everything about how deeply she'd come to regret it.
I had lunch. I spent some time playing with the sows, too. I went over the reservation list. Setting the clipboard down, I rubbed at my eyes.
"How long has it been?"
"Yes. The Adjustment Training has concluded as of now."
"Is she waiting?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then I'd better hurry over."
When I pressed my foot against the one under my desk to push her away, she flicked her tongue and clung to my cock, refusing to let go.
"We'll play again later."
"Ahh... M-Mashter...♥"
"...Hm."
Apparently she couldn't take a hint.
"Take her with you. Have some fun."
"Yes. Thank you."
The old me wouldn't have handed out slaves this often. Once I tossed away a finished product, I never laid hands on it again. The puppets knew that as well as I did, and apparently they split them up nicely among themselves.
That said, when I'd said take her and play with her, he seemed to have heard play with her on the way there.
"Ah... M-Master...! I, I want to stay with you, Master...! Aah...! Haah...! Nngh! Hahk! Haah!! Hnnngh...♥"
In any case, the puppets were quite the handful themselves.
Leaving the fading moans behind me, I walked the corridor to the ring of my own shoes. Click—. Click—. Click—. Faint lights fell across each iron door in turn. I couldn't remember the last time I'd opened a different one. I came here every day, after all.
Thud. Screeeech—. Clang.
"...Ms. Seungyeon."
He came. The bastard came.
I'd tried to tear the wooden bed frame apart and lost two fingernails in the attempt. In the end, I'd had to gnaw at it like a beaver. There was blood on my tongue, but the reek rolling off my body was worse — the fishy stench of semen soaked into every inch of me.
He should have just killed me instead. As miserable and pathetic as it sounds, I didn't have it in me to end my own life. So I would kill him. Or at least die trying. If I did something — anything — then surely...
"Y-you liar!!!"
Hidden behind the bed, I hurled myself at him the moment he came near. The little wooden shard in my fist probably couldn't kill him even if I stabbed him with it dozens of times.
Shk—!
The sensation of something no sharper than a splinter punching through flesh was more sickening than I'd imagined. Tearing through his thin shirt and sinking into his belly, though — that much felt glorious.
And now it was my turn to take whatever "punishment" he dealt out. If he killed me, I'd be grateful.
But he —
"...I'm sorry."
"...What?"
I stumbled backward before I knew it. The bastard — no, he — caught me and held me up. His side, where I'd stabbed him, had to hurt. No, it definitely hurt. He was bleeding this much. And still he was holding me, so warm.
"I promised I wouldn't leave you alone. I'm sorry."
He apologized like he meant it,
"Get some real rest today."
laid me down on the bed,
"You must have been so frightened."
and stroked my hair.
Then the masked men came pouring in behind him. One look at those black faces and my body was shaking on its own. My stomach cramped. My head went thick and dull. Hiding under the blanket was pointless — I'd only end up hurled to the floor anyway. When I'd flailed wildly, trying to tear those masks away, they'd seized my limbs with humiliating ease. I knew exactly how meaningless it was to beg them to stop while those thick, massive cocks raped me over and over.
So I gave up. Quietly, I pulled the blanket down and screwed my eyes shut.
But not one of them so much as glanced at me.
"Ah— ahem. Manager, you need to get that wound treated."
"It's fine. Something like this."
He looked at me with soft eyes.
"Ms. Seungyeon is shaking. Everyone, please leave the room. And let the Director know. As for this wound... well, it'll be fine."
He smiled like a mischievous boy.
Silence settled over the room again, but somehow it was loud. Not outside — the noise was coming from inside the blanket.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
My heart was pounding. Of course it was — but it hammered so hard it seemed to raise the pressure inside my ears, sending so much blood to my face that it burned red.
"Do you have a fever?"
He pressed a gentle hand to my forehead.
"You really are burning up. You're hot to the touch."
Looking at the dark blood dried stiff along the side of his shirt, I asked,
"...Doesn't... doesn't it hurt?"
"Oh, this? No, I'm fine. When I think about how heartbroken you must have been, Ms. Seungyeon, it hardly hurts at all."
"I-I'm sorry."
I apologized.
"...No. Don't apologize."
But he wouldn't accept it.
"I'm the one who should be apologizing."
He was handing it back. Not coldly brushing me aside, either. Just like the first time we met, he really was a warm person.
I wanted to ask, then — what about all the lies he'd told me? As if he'd read the question straight out of my eyes, he spoke first.
"It'll sound like an excuse, but 'training' follows a set curriculum. Haha — that's classified. I probably shouldn't have said anything."
"I-I see..."
"...Right. Whatever I say or do while the 'training' is underway — please think of all of it as part of the 'training.'"
...
Oh no. I hadn't answered. By the time I realized my mistake, several seconds had already slipped past. Despite myself, I searched his face. And then I relaxed. Seeing him smile at me so warmly, the hands clenched white-knuckled around the blanket slowly went slack.
"I, um — I was a fan of yours, Ms. Seungyeon...!"
"...What?"
"I loved your debut drama, Descendants of the Moon, too...!"
He recited every one of my credits, one after another. As if he'd memorized them — no, no one could talk about them that brightly without having memorized them.
"Maybe this isn't the right place for this kind of talk...? Haha..."
"N-no, not at all! Thank you for telling me..."
"It's the truth that I don't want to hurt you, Ms. Seungyeon."
"Yes... I... I suppose... it seems that way..."
Somehow, my cheeks went hot.
"Haha!"
I ducked under the blanket like a diver slipping beneath the surface. Slowly stroking my forehead through it, he said quietly,
"There will probably be 'training' today."
My heart dropped like a stone.
"My request to be put in charge of you was approved. From now on, I'll be the one coming."
"...Okay..."
"Ms. Seungyeon. Let's get through this together. If you'll just cooperate with me, it won't be so hard — not for you, and not for me."
"...And what could possibly be hard for you, Manager Seo..."
Honestly. Why was I making so many mistakes today?
His mouth was smiling. His eyes were colder than they had ever been. The moment I met that frozen gaze looking down at me, my body locked up like a frog's before a snake. But his warm hand never stopped moving, stroking me all the while.
"...You're right. It must be hardest on you, Ms. Seungyeon..."
God, why today of all days...
"Dragged to a place no one knows, somewhere you couldn't name if you tried, with no one looking for you and no end in sight to these hours of hell."
If anything — if anything, I wished he would just treat me the way he always did.
"I shouldn't measure those hours against mine. I'm sorry. I really do have a lot to apologize for today. Haha..."
"P-please don't say that... I-it's thanks to you, Manager Seo... that I'm... that I can..."
"Is that so? I'm only doing what anyone should."
I tried to hide my burning face.
That was when it happened.
Brrring!
"Ah — one moment..."
He rose from the chair and stepped away. He stared down at his phone and sighed, over and over. Several minutes passed before he returned to my bedside, and his expression had turned grim.
"Um..."
"...Yes. Go ahead."
"I've been... I've been ordered... to carry out your punishment... today..."
"Oh..."
He looked so troubled. And somehow, today of all days, I couldn't bear the thought of being the one to trouble him.
I pushed myself up in bed. This was a body that, barely an hour ago, had been drenched in the semen of men whose faces I never saw. Every time the blanket shifted, the foul stench of it rolled over me.
So why did I smell his cologne? Just because he'd held me for a moment, just because he'd stroked my hair — my body seemed determined to hold on to his scent.
It had to be his scent. That scent that made the small of my back go weak. Because of it, I heard myself say something I could never have imagined saying.
"Manager... that punishment... I-I'll take it..."
"...What?"
"I-I did something today that deserves punishing... I hurt you, too..."
"A-are you sure about that?"
He was asking if I was sure. Of course I wasn't sure.
"Yes. I'm sure. You'll do your job, Manager, and I'll... I'll do mine... for now..."
I wasn't fine at all. But the words kept coming anyway, as if someone else were steering my mouth.
"...Thank you."
Watching him smile, I found myself wanting to thank the kind demon who had taken control of me for my sake.
"...Yes."
I answered with a nod. Then he held out his hand to me.
"...Shall we begin now?"
Thrown as I was by the word now, I still took his hand, smooth and natural, as if none of it fazed me.
I followed his guidance to the wall and stood where he put me. It was the wall I'd wet myself against yesterday. The surface had a strange texture — like a firm sponge.
Whirr—.
When he pressed the silver button, three cylinders slid out of the wall. One thick pillar at the center, and two more mounted low against the floor. The middle one was bare, but the first and the last each carried a pair of leather straps.
He wrapped his arms gently around my shoulders and stood me against the wall. Then he knelt and closed his hands softly around my ankles.
"Ah..."
I gave my body over to his hands. The jingle of metal buckles stopped the moment they touched my skin. With both ankles bound to a single pillar, he took my hands and walked around to stand beyond the cylinder jutting from the center.
"Now, just lean forward over the cylinder."
"Ah... yes..."
Clink—!
"Ngh... my ankles..."
"Just a little more..."
I folded myself over the cylinder until my feet left the floor. The pressure on my stomach ached, but I couldn't bear to make his worried face any worse.
"I-I'm fine."
I stretched my arms downward, and then both wrists were locked into the other cylinder.
I must have looked like a blanket hung out to dry — though a blanket didn't usually have its wrists and ankles in shackles.
Shhhk— snap!
He pulled on a fresh pair of latex gloves. My body was fixed in place; I couldn't turn to look. But I strained my ears toward every sound behind me. Then again — bent like this with him back there, he'd be able to see straight up between my cheeks...
Clink—. Snap. Slick.
Whether it was the pressure on my belly, or hanging there spread open, or the thought of him staring at my ass — I couldn't tell — but my face flared shockingly hot.
"...Now. Shall we begin?"
He came back around to where I could see him, a large syringe clutched in one hand.