How Does Brother Namgung Know About Ahegao…?
“I would dearly love to instruct you myself, but most regrettably I already have a prior engagement…”
Brother Namgung’s voice dripped with genuine disappointment that he could not torment me in person. After sealing my pressure points and locking every limb in place, he fixed me in a chair with my legs spread wide, then held up a pair of strangely shaped cups for me to see.
“Across the eastern sea lies a vast land whose people revere something they call engineering. After long exchange with them I finally turned an idea I had long cherished into reality.”
At first glance the objects looked like wine cups, yet the closer I looked the more unnatural their form became; they were clearly no ordinary vessels.
“Hmm. You may well meet one of their kind yourself before long.”
With that he smeared a generous amount of the familiar ointment across the tips of my chest, then pressed the peculiar “cups” firmly onto my nipples.
“Nngh…?!”
The moment the cups touched me they began to suck, drawing my flesh inward with relentless force.
“Making that kind of noise already? You may well faint before long.”
“Faint? What on earth is this thing?”
“Ahem—no time to answer. We proceed at once.”
Whether he was truly in a hurry or simply dodging the question, Brother Namgung next produced a smooth, white object with gentle curves… and its destination was unmistakably my rear.
“Wait—wait, waaait! Brother Namgung! Where do you think you’re putting that?!”
My frantic cry might as well have been wind; his expression never wavered.
“Quiet. Today’s session doubles as punishment, so I will show no mercy.”
I twisted every sealed limb in a desperate attempt to escape the intrusion, but the pressure points had long since robbed me of all movement.
Schlick—
With an embarrassingly wet sound of mucosa against silicone, something thicker than two fingers—what Brother Namgung casually called a “prostate massager”—slid smoothly, without the slightest resistance, deep into my anus.
“Hnnngh… nn… w-why…?”
“You want to ask why it feels so sensitive, don’t you? I spread more than half a jar of ointment inside that hole of yours just to keep you alive. Of course it feels that way.”
Exactly as he said, the entrance was hypersensitive from the ointment; every gentle curve of the toy’s shaft registered clearly through the thin membrane that gripped it.
“I poured a great deal of my inner energy into it, so it will not stop even after a full day has passed. Endure it well… Ah, and—heave-ho.”
With those words he lifted a full-length dressing mirror, set it squarely in front of me, and left the room. A moment later came the sound of the door locking.
“Ugh… this can’t be real…”
Sealed by Brother Namgung’s pressure-point technique, I had no choice but to stare into the mirror unless I closed my eyes.
“…My eyes… won’t close…?”
More precisely, except for the automatic blinks, I simply could not keep them shut. Just as an arm falls when the muscles relax, my eyelids had no strength; they floated open of their own accord.
So I’m forced to watch myself…?
Forced to witness my own disgrace—what a nightmare.
I had no choice but to look. First I saw my naked body fixed in the chair, legs spread wide, utterly motionless under the sealed points. And my precious… cock was locked inside a pink chastity belt, unable even to harden properly, only a constant crushing pressure remaining.
“Ugh… my… my insides are throbbing…”
With every breath the toy inside me shifted just enough to press hard against my prostate; each press sent a shivering wave of sensation rolling from my belly up my spine. And my chest—
“O-ohh…?!”
Whirrrr—
While I was distracted by the sensations in my rear—though even full attention would have changed nothing—the cylinders inside the devices Brother Namgung called “nipple cups,” each studded with small nubs on top and sides, began to rotate slowly.
“Nngh… nnn… hah…!”
At first it was merely the shock of an unfamiliar stimulation on such sensitive flesh. But the rotation patterns grew ever more varied, transforming into a dizzying pleasure that could only be called torture.
“Hah… haah… hnnn… haaaah…”
The three studded cylinders would spin left together, then reverse right, or each turn in a different direction, constantly modulating speed and never giving my nipples a moment’s rest.
Don’t focus on it… don’t feel it…!
Panic rising, I tried desperately to endure the twin assaults and wrench my awareness away from prostate and nipples. Of course it was impossible.
“Ah… ah… ah…♡ Ah♡ Ahiik♡ Ahiik♡”
Spurt—
…I came.
Watching myself climax helplessly in the mirror, my mind dissolved into a mess of shame and humiliation. My thighs still trembled with aftershocks. From the chastity belt—moments earlier slick with a clear, slippery fluid that looked exactly like a woman’s arousal—thick, milky drops of what Brother Namgung called “yin-qi prostate fluid” now dripped steadily.
“Haa… haa… haa…”
Once I had forced my breathing under control and found a scrap of composure, useless thoughts drifted in.
If only the chastity belt weren’t there… at least I could have ejaculated properly…
Even though the only witness was myself, climaxing from ass and chest alone, unable even to shoot properly, just dribbling something that might have been semen or prostate fluid through the cage—how pathetic.
“Ah… haha… Looking this disgraceful, I can’t even call myself a man anywhere…”
The reflection was so shameful I felt unworthy of the word “man.” Yet even as the humiliation burned, another feeling—something lewd, something I could not quite name—swept through my chest in a strange, excited rush.
“Hnn♡ Ah♡ Hah♡ Ahiik♡”
I thought one climax would buy me a moment’s rest. Reality proved otherwise.
“Hnnn♡ Ahiik♡ Haah♡ Ohoh♡”
Unlike ejaculation, rear climaxes had almost no limit so long as the body stayed conscious.
“Ahiik♡ Haaaaah♡ Nnghoooh♡ Hiiiiiit♡♡♡”
Spurt— spurt—
From the fourth—or was it the fifth?—climax onward, time itself dissolved. Tongue lolling, eyes rolled back to pure white, I could not even faint; I simply came again and again to every fresh wave of stimulation.
How many hours passed, I could not say.
“Hoo… What an obscenely thick scent.”
The door opened and Brother Namgung returned.
“Ah… hi…”
“…Heh. A face painted straight from a picture. The Wa people call it ahegao, I believe.”
His voice carried a quiet, unmistakable satisfaction.
“Removing toys from an exhausted body after so long—surprisingly entertaining, I must say.”
“………?”
I could barely understand the words; my body only twitched now and then. He approached anyway.
“O-ohh…?!”
…and pulled every toy free.
Schlurp—
The sensation of extraction alone drove my hypersensitive body over the edge once more. I shuddered violently, dripping more prostate fluid, yet Brother Namgung looked almost disappointed.
“Teasing the toys in and out a few more times for extra climaxes is a special delight… but your stamina would never last. I’ll show mercy here.”
He released the pressure points and laid me on his own bed.
“Now then—answer one thing before you sleep. …How many times did you come?”
There was no reason I would have counted. Only one answer was possible.
“Dunnooo…”
“Tsk tsk. The number of climaxes is extremely important information. I’ll stress this again next time: from now on, you will count each climax out loud as it happens.”
“………”
When I could not answer, he drove the point home.
“This too is a rule you must obey strictly. Fail, and you will be punished… In any case, sleep for now. Mountains of work await us.”
Still unable to reply as he closed my eyes for me, my exhausted body sank into sleep like mud into a swamp.