Jin Seung-yeon (8)
I sat with my eyes quietly closed, taking the hiccuping breath of the thing before me for music.
"M-Manager...!"
Now and then her voice called for me, and—
Trickle—.
The thin leak of enema solution seeping from her rear made a rather fine harmony with it.
"Seung-yeon. You seem to keep spilling. If this were a lesson, I would have plugged your rear for you."
"Haa... haa... N-no... I, I'm... haa... h-holding it... hnn...!"
Trickle—.
"Haa... I'm sorr... hnn... y.... Haa... haa..."
I glanced quietly at the clock. Only a few minutes had passed. I couldn't leave it in as long as before; her insides might be ruined. It was a question of volume. Part of me wanted to leave her on display in the living room just like this, another ornament among the audio equipment, but today it seemed wiser to restrain myself.
"Seung-yeon."
"Haa... yes... hnn. Haa..."
I set the alarm.
"Exactly five minutes. Hold it without spilling for just five minutes, and I'll give you a reward."
"Haa...! R-really...?"
"Yes. Really."
She bit down on her lip. She even clenched both fists. Watching the corners of her mouth twitch upward, little by little, I nearly laughed myself. What sort of reward was she expecting? Time seemed to pass very quickly. For her it must have been an eternity; for me, somehow, it went fast.
Beep—. Beep—. Beep—.
The clock I had set went off. Her brow was knotted, and her mouth could not manage so bright a smile.
"...Well done."
Something in it felt wanting, but I went to her and stroked her hair.
"You're a truly excellent bitch."
"A-a bitch... haha.... hnn....."
"Yes. A bitch. Do you dislike it?"
"Haa... N-no... Thank you... f-for praising me..."
I showed her the container that had held the enema solution.
"Put both arms behind your head, then ask my permission. That is a bitch's basic posture. Whatever you do, you show all of it, and you receive permission for all of it."
"Haa... haa... haa..."
Her eyes, trembling in fine little flickers, darted between me and the bucket.
"Yes..."
She had been lying face-down on the floor; now she lurched upright. There was no need to mind the enema solution sliding down her thighs with a wet sound. I had no intention of scolding her even if she voided every drop of it now. I like an eager object. The more eager they are, the more amusement there is to be had.
"Haa... haa..."
Whether from the slosh of her swollen belly or not, she kept both hands braced on her knees, and with a narrow stride she came very slowly toward the bucket I had set down in front of me.
"Hnn...!"
Now and then she froze where she stood and screwed her face up hard, then found the strength to come on again. So, at last, she reached the bucket she had struggled so hard to get to. She set it between her parted legs and stood there in an awkward, half-crouched hover.
Splaash—!
The moment her legs opened, the solution streamed down into the bucket.
"Haaahk...!!!"
She bit her lower lip and clamped her knees. She fought however she could to stop the flow, and in the end she clenched her sphincter as if shutting off a faucet.
"Haa... haa... haa..."
She looked up at me with hollow eyes, then slowly brought both hands behind her head.
"Go on. Say it."
"Haa... I, I... haahk...! Haa... a-a bitch..."
"...Use your imagination."
Unable to keep the corners of my mouth from rising, I covered them with my hand.
"P-please... haa... g-grant a bitch... an enema..."
"..."
"M-Manager...!"
If I answered at once my voice would shake, so I let the moment hang. I swallowed, as far as I could, the laugh tickling the inside of my throat, and then I told her, low:
"...Very well."
The instant permission fell—
Whoooosh—!
A loud rush rose from the bucket.
"Haaaaaaahk...!!!"
Head thrown back, she shuddered through her whole body. Legs splayed wide. Hands sent behind her head. Because of that, the violence of her convulsions lay completely bare—and between her thighs the clear solution came pouring out, striking the bucket hard enough to hear. All of it was perfect.
Whoooosh—. Trickle—. Trickle—.
Once she had emptied every drop, her spasms only grew fiercer.
"Aaa... aaahhh..."
She was jerking as if her body meant to bounce free of itself, and then—
A thin, running stream—.
"Oh..."
This time she began to spill yellow urine into the bucket. Bright yellow piss sliding over pale skin, falling to the floor and into the bucket—I could see it with perfect clarity.
"Impressive."
She couldn't manage a single word. Even so, holding the posture with her eyes rolled back was exceedingly fine.
"...Rest easy."
She seemed to have been listening to me the whole time. The words were hardly finished before she toppled straight backward, onto the filth that had soaked the floor through—hips bucking, feet kicking, breath rattling in her throat.
"...Seung-yeon. I'll prepare a reward worth looking forward to."
I did not stint on praise.
"Ha, haahk... haa.... ugh..."
"Is the laundry finished?"
A Puppet answered.
"Yes."
I set down the client consultation form for Jin Seung-yeon that I had been holding. I had been going over the client's requests once more.
"And the treatment?"
The Playground's attending physician answered that one.
"It's been seen to thoroughly. The body was well maintained, so recovery ought to be quick."
"Good. Well done."
I had the Puppets clean the room until it was spotless, and I took receipt of the medicine she was to take. I checked the clock. I stretched, lightly. With my foot I shoved aside the sows sprawled belly-up on the office floor—sows whose names I had already forgotten—and headed for the corridor.
To think of her was like setting a pure white rose into bottles of water, each a different color. I knew perfectly well how she would turn out in the end, and still I looked forward to the sight far too much.
"Has she been fed?"
"It's been prepared."
"Well done."
By way of praise, I indicated with a glance a slave who had caught my eye.
"A present. There shouldn't be anything special today. All of you, play nicely together."
"Yes. Thank you."
The Puppet, plainly delighted, dragged the sow off by the leash and receded down the hall. It seemed I possessed some charitable instinct I hadn't known was in me.
"Well, then..."
I started toward her. Down the dim corridor, past the iron doors standing in a row, I came to a stop directly before the door that held her. Barely a few seconds passed before the iron door opened with a clatter. Through the slowly widening gap I saw her head jerk up. Both cheeks flushed, she hurriedly shoved the blanket aside and tried to climb out of the bed.
"Ah—stay lying down."
I stopped her. Her body was surely still a wreck. A precious toy of mine ought to be handled preciously by the toy herself.
"How do you feel?"
I sat down at the bedside of the one lying quietly under the blanket.
"Ah... I-I'm all right... I don't have much strength, but..."
"I heard you didn't eat."
"Yes... I have no appetite..."
"Dear me. That won't do."
Her eyes went round.
"Ah, I-I'm sorry. I'll e-eat... i-if it's ready...!"
"Heh... That isn't what I meant. It's all right."
"Yes..."
Her damp hair clung to an ear going red. I reached to peel it free, and this time she didn't so much as flinch. She even let her eyes fall gently shut.
"What sort of reward would you like? You took your punishment well, after all. I want to give you whatever you want, Seung-yeon."
"Ah... I... I don't... particularly..."
"Tell me. Anything at all. Something small, or something that isn't. Either is fine."
"Ah..."
From the way she hesitated, she had probably thought of a reward that would be difficult to grant.
"I-I mean..."
"Yes."
"C-could we... e-eat together... again...?"
"...What?"
"Like the day we first met... s-sitting together..."
Had there ever, until now, been one who named a reward like this?
"Pfft... All right. I'd like that."
At my answer she drew a great breath and lit up with joy. That bitches should follow me was only natural. When the ones before her had wanted rewards so vulgar I grew sick of them, I had become their sky without the slightest difficulty. And yet this one was trying to seat me beside her. She said that was the reward she wanted. A meal shared with her master—a reward.
"...We'll dress you in something pretty, and have a delicious meal as well."
If we were going to do it, I would let her enjoy it properly.
"R-really...?"
She looked up at me then, her face on the verge of tears.
"Yes. Of course."
I stroked her forehead, slowly.
"Eat first, for now. As soon as you've recovered, I'll arrange a place for us."
"Hehe... I'd like that..."
I brought the rice porridge the Puppets had prepared to her mouth. She refused and refused, insisting she would feed herself, but the spoon stayed in my hand all the same.
"...Seung-yeon."
"Yes?"
She seemed to be in high spirits; her head swayed lightly from side to side. Even the mouth working at the porridge looked bright, unlike before.
"What would you like to eat?"
"A-anything...?"
"Of course."
She drew her interlaced hands up against her chest.
"Th-then...! Fried chicken...!"
"All right. We'll have fried chicken."
"Yay!"
She threw both hands up and broke into a delighted, trilling laugh.
"And your clothes?"
At the question, her mouth would not rest. I left the cooling porridge sitting in the spoon and, for a while, simply listened to her.