I was still trapped. I listened for the man, then relaxed. My neck ached from tension.
Sweat soaked the sheets. I tried to sleep, but the light kept me awake.
I sat up, leaning against the headboard. I wanted a mirror.
I slipped off the bed, forgetting the heavy chains. My hip hit the floor. Pain shot through me.
The mirror was a foolish thought. I waited for the man.
The lock clicked. The door creaked open.
He entered, removing his black cap. His face was still hidden.
“You’re up. Sleep well?”
“…Yeah.”
“What’d you dream about?”
“Pig intestines choking me to death.”
“Dreams about death are good omens. Maybe something good will happen today.”
“…”
I scowled, clutching the blanket. Good? Who was he kidding?
He sat on the bed, one leg folded, leaning close. His hand lifted my chin, forcing eye contact.
I still couldn’t see his face. I glared where his eyes should be. He tilted his head.
He was going to kiss me.
I should resist. I should.
But I didn’t move.
“Open.”
I parted my lips. His tongue slid in, tracing my palate. I endured it like a needle piercing my arm.
He held my cheeks, thumbs smoothing my furrowed brows. His tongue explored, then lingered on his own lips.
He bit my lower lip—hard. I flinched, fearing he’d tear it. He released it with a snap, then trailed down my jaw, spreading my legs.
Warm breath hit my neck. I trembled, eyes squeezed shut. I knew what came next.
Ring, ring.
The humid air brushing against my throat suddenly stopped. I slowly opened my eyes, which I had tightly shut.
Ring, ring.
The sound of the phone rang out again.
It was coming from the man’s thigh.
I shifted my gaze blankly. This was a phone ringing. A phone.
A phone…!
The only small hope connecting me to the outside world.
I didn’t know how my starved body could muster such strength. With all my might, I pushed the man away and climbed on top of him. He seemed startled. They say people can summon supernatural strength in emergencies, and that was exactly what I did. I never thought I’d actually manage to overpower him. I had to kill this man. When I realized his phone was in his pocket—
This might be my last chance.
“Ugh, Siwoo, hey—”
I choked him with all my strength. The man hadn’t expected me to strangle him, so he didn’t resist much. I kept squeezing until his struggles slowly stopped, and even after he lost consciousness, I spent several more minutes making sure his breath was completely cut off.
Only when his body finally went limp did I release my grip on his neck. I scooted backward, away from him.
I… killed him.
The man was dead.
Adrenaline flooded my brain. I had killed someone. And finally, I was free. I stared blankly at the corpse, then suddenly snapped back to my senses and crawled toward him. I started searching his pockets for a way to contact the outside world.
I had definitely heard the sound coming from his thigh. But there was no phone in either of his pockets. My anxiety mounting, I began to pull down his pants.
My hand, gripping his belt hook, trembled.
The thrill of killing someone didn’t fade easily. No matter how hard I tried to take deep breaths and relax, my body wouldn’t obey. I finally undid his hook and pulled down his jeans—
A strange sound escaped me as I touched the ground. The man’s monstrous cock was rock-hard, threatening to burst.
“W-what the…”
“Puh… Puhuh.”
“……Ah.”
“Puhuhuhuhuh… Kheh.”
“……You’re not dead?”
“Ah, you were trying to kill me? I thought you were just playing around since your grip was so weak. Ah…… Did you try to kill me because of the phone ringing? The phone’s in my back pocket. Guess you were too excited to think of checking there.”
Ah…… Why did I assume he was dead without checking if he was breathing or not?
I had squeezed his neck with all my strength, so I thought I had killed him.
The man rubbed his throat and sat up. His grotesque cock, exposed as his underwear shifted, twitched menacingly. The man… wasn’t dead. Which meant—
Fear paralyzed me, making me forget to breathe. The phone ringing had momentarily driven me insane. I hadn’t really meant to kill him. I was already searching for excuses.
The man, still rubbing his neck, grabbed my ankle and yanked me down with a jerk.
“Agh…!”
I let out a strange noise as I was dragged down. The man climbed on top of me, glanced at my terrified face, whistled, and pulled his phone out of his back pocket. He casually checked its contents while his other hand pulled down my pants and flipped me onto my stomach. I stammered out an excuse.
“I’m sorry. Hearing the phone ring must’ve made me lose it for a second. Being locked up like this… I just wanted to get out. I’m s-sorry.”
“You almost killed me, and you think that’s enough of an apology?”
“What do you want me to do? What… what do you want?”
My exposed buttocks felt cold. He impassively traced the crease between them, then suddenly shoved a finger inside without warning.
“Huh—!”
I threw my head back, gasping like an idiot. It had been so long that even just a finger hurt unbearably. I held my breath and trembled.
The man fingered me a few times, then pulled out and muttered quietly.
“Filthy.”
Shame made my breath quicken. He repeated himself, as if to drive the point home.
“You’re so filthy I can’t even fuck you today.”
“I’m sorry……”
All I could say was an apology.
The man stared blankly at the space between my buttocks, as if debating, then undid the chain connected to the shackles. What punishment would he give me? What would I have to endure?
Before I knew it, I was waiting for his “punishment.”
By now, I didn’t need him to explicitly call it that—I knew I had done something deserving of punishment, and that I had to accept it.
The man crouched down under the bed and pointed to the stained wall I had used to relieve myself. He ordered me:
“Come here.”
I hesitated, refusing to get off the bed, but when he moved toward me, I finally climbed down. I limped over and stood with my back to the spot he wanted, clasping my hands together. I bowed my head and bit my lip. He spoke to me in a scolding tone:
“Are you sorry?”
“Yes.”
“Then you have to be punished. Right?”
“……Ah……”
“If you did something wrong, you have to be punished. Right? How could you try to kill someone? You know that’s a serious crime. It’s a terrible thing to do. How could you do something so terrible to me? Do you understand why you need to be punished?”
“……Punishment……”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
