The Sow Miriam (2)
Anima announced that she was moving into the second phase of training for the sow Miriam, and she had made one change from before. She had removed the gag from the woman’s tightly sealed mouth. It wasn’t as if I wondered why Anima had done it, but seeing the current scene washed away even the faintest trace of doubt.
“Haaahhhk!!! Kkhheuuup! Heup! Heuggeugeuk!!!!”
Even when Miriam clenched her teeth hard enough to shatter them, the moans still tore free. Dark red marks of pleasure she couldn’t suppress bloomed across her skin. Anima’s fingers traced every sensitive spot between those forcibly spread legs, hunting down every thread of ecstasy Miriam had never known she possessed. The result was a ceaseless cycle of climax after climax, the woman writhing in agony the entire time.
Leaving her mouth uncovered was therefore a deliberate method—an instrument to prove to me exactly how much pleasure and pain she was experiencing. Still, Anima never once removed the blindfold. That, too, surely held meaning for her.
Once she had brought Miriam’s training to a suitable point, Anima turned toward the screen and addressed me directly.
“Cezar, are you well acquainted with the female body?”
“Well, I’m not completely ignorant.”
“Then you must also know there exists a bodily tissue whose sole purpose is to deliver the greatest possible pleasure?”
“The clitoris?”
“Correct. Precisely this part.”
Anima’s voice remained perfectly composed, almost clinical. “This bean-shaped tissue protruding above the labia minora is structurally similar to the male glans. Nerves are densely clustered here for the express purpose of pleasure. Touch it even slightly the wrong way, however, and it delivers pain instead of ecstasy.”
She produced a single feather and brushed it lightly across Miriam’s swollen clitoris.
“Kkhheuuup!!!”
A violent spray of clear fluid exploded from between Miriam’s legs, soaking Anima’s face. Without changing expression, Anima wiped herself clean with a handkerchief and continued as though nothing had happened.
“Huu… When a clitoris has been thoroughly marinated in aphrodisiacs and rendered hypersensitive, even the lightest touch from a feather is enough to trigger immediate orgasm. Most people who study the female body know the clitoris is responsible for pleasure, yet few realize how far the organ actually extends. Men, naturally. But women are often equally ignorant. The clitoris is far longer and wider than it appears on the surface. The deeper portions inside the reproductive tract produce an unfamiliar, far more stubborn pleasure than anything the exposed part can offer.”
Wouldn’t that rupture her urethra? Miriam had only taken a single sip of water, yet her pussy kept spurting like a desert spring—pssh, pssh, pssshhh—endlessly. While Anima’s fingers stirred and probed those twitching inner walls, she spoke as if conducting a biology lecture or a sex-education class.
One must remember, however, that her true purpose was never the innocent transmission of knowledge. Every word carried the unspoken message: This is why I will torment her in the following manner. To Miriam, whose ears remained uncovered and who therefore heard every syllable with perfect clarity, the explanation sounded like a restaurant menu or an event catalog of coming agonies. Her teeth chattered audibly, revealing without mercy how desperately she feared the future that awaited her.
“As I stated earlier, Hero Miriam is not a virgin. I have not performed a thorough internal examination, but visual inspection suggests as much. That said, hers is not a pussy with extensive experience. All women differ, of course, but a well-used vagina tends to spread its wings and flutter openly. Miriam’s, as you can see, remains tightly closed, the petals unspread, and shows no darkening of pigment—only a bright, pristine pink. Yet she is not ignorant of pleasure. Simply spread the lips like this, hold them open, and lightly scratch the vaginal walls with a fingertip—”
“Ahuuuuk! S-stop! Stoooop!!!! Heukkeung!!!”
Pssht— Pssht— Psyuuush—
“Mm, yes. She climaxes this easily.”
Truly, Miriam’s cunt gushed like an oasis bursting in the middle of the desert. Watching the obscene fountain, I somehow sensed that Anima was angry.
“What an ill-mannered little pussy. Perhaps some education is required before proper taming.”
“Do whatever you like, Anima.”
“Then I shall.”
Anima’s fingers drove in without hesitation, raking the upper vaginal wall with ruthless intensity. For one razor-thin instant, Miriam’s breathing visibly stopped. Her heaving chest froze mid-motion. No sound escaped her lips.
Then the next instant arrived.
“Hup, huok, heugo ooook…!!!! Pleeeease! Kkhoooook!!!”
The cries that followed carried more pain than pleasure, more despair than joy. The act of satisfying sexual desire through the genitals should have been steeped in positive emotion, yet everything Miriam’s body produced now was purely negative.
“Even a one-year-old puppy can be trained to know where it may relieve itself and where it may not. How tragic that a hero of humanity has never received even this basic education.”
“N-no… Nooo! Ahuk♡”
“You deny it even while you’re soaking my hand. Pathetic.”
“No, noo♡ Hiiik♡”
Little by little, Miriam’s screams were transforming into sweet, syrupy moans. Whether she realized it or not, she was adapting to the pain—learning to feel even that torment as pleasure. Or perhaps her own brain was protecting its owner, converting the sensation so she wouldn’t break. At any rate, it no longer mattered to me.
Originally, whether Miriam felt agony or ecstasy was irrelevant. As long as she bowed her head properly and became one of my obedient pieces on the board, the process itself held no importance. I had no doubts about the outcome.
And yet… Was Anima always this beautiful?
It was strange. My brain was clearly the one that had broken. Her face remained expressionless, her voice flat and emotionless. Objectively, Anima’s beauty was already exceptional, but there was no reason for her to appear this lovely today. Still, for some reason, her appearance kept drawing my eyes. Even Miriam’s scream-laced moans sounded like background music. The arcs of pussy juice looked like artistic water-droplet effects. Emotions I should never have felt, emotions I never thought I could feel, were quietly blooming inside my chest.
“Anima.”
“You called, Cezar?”
“Is today’s session almost finished?”
“Ah… I still need to administer the final aphrodisiac dose and complete aftercare.”
“I see.”
Disappointment tugged at me. The urge to summon her to my side right then was almost overpowering. But I couldn’t. She hadn’t revived me because she loved me. She didn’t obey me because she loved me. It was all coincidence, a side effect of her own self-serving actions. That was the truth. There was nothing more foolish than falling for it and nurturing feelings.
“When you’re done, come straight to my office.”
“Yes? Ah, yes. I will.”
“Good. I’m counting on you.”
Still, people don’t always make the clever choice. Or rather, she was no longer a person at all. If I had always chosen correctly, I never would have ended up in this state to begin with. What a ridiculous joke.
Knock, knock.
“Cezar. It is Anima. May I enter?”
I had watched through the monitor, but the reality was as I expected. Anima had hosed Miriam down, dumped her into the aphrodisiac bath to finish the second phase of training, dressed her in the restrictive undergarments that prevented self-stimulation, bound her limbs, and returned to my office. More than an hour had passed. My mind had begun to calm during that time, yet the moment I heard she had arrived, my heart started pounding again uncontrollably.
“Enter.”
The heavy door opened with a low creak and closed with a heavy thud. Anima stood before me. The suit clung to her body like a second skin. Hair like the deepest black silk in existence, eyes like polished obsidian, and skin so white and translucent it seemed to glow with contradictory luster. I rose from my chair to see her more clearly and walked straight toward her.
“Cezar?”
“Anima, I have a request.”
“Please speak.”
“Don’t ask why. Just… let me hold you for a moment.”
“…Pardon?”
“Don’t ask for the reason.”
“Yes… Very well. My body belongs to Cezar, after all.”
“…Right.”
It was permission, yet the answer stung. She had said her body belonged not to the individual named Anima, but to the title Cezar. It implied that even if I hadn’t been the one inside this shell, any Cezar would have sufficed. I pushed the thought away, opened my arms, and pulled her against my chest.
She was warm. The steady rhythm of her breathing brushed my ear. Her unusually large breasts pressed softly against my abdomen. Truly, I had become a madman.