#18 A Humiliating Video Letter to the Captive Hero (Club - Shame Endurance Filming)
Three days had passed since the villain organization Lesser Rat's escape operation. Nothing much had happened in the meantime. To apologize and encourage Club, who'd overexerted herself back then, he'd bought her some expensive desserts (using Apple's money, of course—No. 13 hadn't spent a dime). He'd confirmed her condition was recovering smoothly afterward. If anything, once she was back on her feet, Club seemed a bit restless, like her hands were itching for action. Having glimpsed scenery beyond several walls thanks to No. 13's help at the time, she probably wanted to make that sensation her own before it faded. She was a woman with high aspirations to begin with. It was only natural. People already thought she was plenty strong... but after No. 13's day-long training fixed even her minor flaws, all she needed now was to rack up some achievements, and she could rocket straight into the upper B-rank in one go. Anyway, he'd let her rest yesterday and the day before for recovery, but today it was back to work. He'd make full use of her after that break.
"...What is it today, No. 13?"
Club, back in her maid outfit after a while, entered the room warily. Inside, No. 13 was setting up filming equipment.
"Nothing much. I figured it was about time to send your next status update."
He'd originally planned to send it yesterday, but if he snapped pics of Club in her pathetic state and sent those, they'd think she was being tortured or something. So he'd scrapped the idea. ...Half-true, anyway.
"But what's with all that gear? What are you planning?"
"Can't you tell? We're shooting a video letter. If it's just photos, they might think it's photoshopped or whatever."
"......."
Club eyed him suspiciously. Did she really have so little trust in him? No. 13 felt a little hurt. Anyway, the video setup was done. He directed her to stand in the spot designated for Spade, adjusting the angle so Club was perfectly framed.
"Alright, let's start with a simple greeting. Greeting~."
Club still looked sullen, but she had no choice but to obey No. 13's orders... so she followed along. Sitting in the designated spot, she bowed her head to the camera, gave a greeting, and lightly explained her current situation. Just in case, she kept her expression and voice as calm as possible, so her captain wouldn't worry. She was safe, so relax; no immediate help needed here... After about five minutes of filming like that, No. 13 suddenly yelled "Cut!" and stopped the camera.
"...Why? Was that enough?"
"Hmm, well."
No. 13 frowned as he reviewed the footage.
"It's boring like this."
"......What?"
What the hell did that mean? Wasn't this supposed to be a status update video? Why worry about it being "fun"? Without answering Club's confusion, No. 13 fiddled with the camera again, pulled something from a nearby bag, and approached her. In his hand was a vibrant, oval-shaped silicone thingamajig.
"Club, stand up for a sec? Let's shoot something more fun together."
"Alright, filming starts again."
No. 13 positioned himself behind the camera once more. Club, reseated in her spot, looked distinctly uncomfortable. She fidgeted with her hips, her face slightly flushed.
"Let's check before we start."
"W-Wait...!"
No. 13 fiddled with the remote in his hand. Suddenly, something inside Club's pussy started buuuuuzzzzing to life. Club let out a moan and curled up. The vibrations continued for a while before No. 13 worked the remote again, stopping them.
"That's no good, Club. You gonna react like that on camera? It's like you're begging them to worry."
"Ugh, urk...! You...! This bullshit...!"
"You're a hero, aren't you? Shouldn't you be able to endure this much?"
Club grumbled in dissatisfaction, but No. 13 just smirked and moved to the camera. Grinding her teeth, Club forced her expression back to normal as he started recording. Inside, though, she was full of complaints, and the flush on her face hadn't faded. Right now, a remote-controlled rotor was stuffed in her pussy, courtesy of No. 13. She'd just been kissed and fondled by him, so her body was heated up, her clothes disheveled, and her pussy—now with the rotor inside—was a bit wet. And he wanted her to film a status video in this state? Act like nothing happened so it wouldn't leak? Was this guy insane? Ignoring Club's thoughts, No. 13's filming continued. The script was the same as before: greeting, update on life here, meals, rest, that sort of thing. No mention of Lesser Rat per No. 13's orders. Her daily routine here sounded like: wake up, breakfast, some rest, lunch, light chores and movement in the afternoon, dinner, more rest... Of course, she didn't mention the nightly masturbation routine...
"A-After dinner... the first day was kinda boring, but now... No. 13 brings a game console, or... that advisor woman keeps me company... Ngh... Hn...!"
Another sudden buuuuzz from the rotor in her pussy disrupted Club's voice. She'd tried her best to endure per No. 13's instructions, but these sneak-attack vibrations made it impossible. To make matters worse, he varied the intensity and duration, so she couldn't even get used to it. I'm really gonna kill that bastard... Club glared daggers but somehow finished the script. Confirming the camera had stopped, she finally relaxed and caught her breath. Honestly, compared to the dildos she used lately, the rotor was smaller and its vibrations weaker—not that intense. But on camera, with the pressure to stay composed, it felt ten times worse. Anyway, it was over now. Finally over...
"Nah, this won't work. Useless. Club, we'll keep repeating till we get a good take."
I'm really gonna kill that bastard.
Unfortunately, sheer willpower couldn't kill anyone. With orders from Captain Rahe too, Club had no choice but to keep playing along with No. 13. But the longer the filming dragged on, the harsher her ordeal became. Her pussy was getting more sensitive from the rotor's stimulation, and as she adapted, No. 13 cranked it up harder. The vibrations that tormented her in the first take were just levels 1 or 2; now the max in her pussy was level 10, he'd said. Hearing that made Club's vision blur for a moment.
Buuuuuzzz buuuuuzzz
"S-So, after... dinner... kuhh... No. 13's... game console... ugh, ah...!"
Level 7 vibrations. And they dragged on forever. Club tried to stick to the script, but this time she couldn't hold it—her words broke into stutters. Her hips twitched; she must've climaxed. No way this take was usable, so he could've cut and restarted, but no signal from No. 13. He always filmed straight through, mistakes or not. So Club pushed to the end of the script to match his will. Panting, body jerking, she delivered the final lines as he wanted. What started as five minutes now stretched to twelve...
"Hic... N-No. 13... that's... enough... right...?"
"Hmm, not bad this time, but still kinda lacking."
No. 13 pretended to check the footage, playing it cool. Lacking? Bullshit. Each repeat had wrecked her more. Her clothes were a mess from writhing, skirt flipped up exposing her panties—she couldn't even fix it. If he meant that sincerely, she'd bash his head in. Unless he wanted a fight...
"Alright, let's keep going, Club. This take might be the good one."
Like some auteur director, he spoke arrogantly, resetting the camera. Club, twitching nonstop from the unceasing rotor vibrations, reluctantly assumed position again per his orders. Filming finally wrapped an hour and a half after the first take.