Riiing—!
The sharp, abrasive chime of a digital alarm clock rang out from the ornate nightstand, startling Adrian—who had been deep in a remarkably pleasant, dreamless sleep—wide awake.
"Is it 8:00 already?"
Adrian groaned, turning over and slapping the button to silence the buzzing clock. He swung his muscular legs out of the massive four-poster bed and walked into the master en-suite to splash some cold water on his face. Only then did he feel the lethargy begin to clear from his mind.
It couldn't be helped; even though his physical constitution as the Sword Saint had likely already reached the absolute peak of human capability in this timeline, he was still biologically mortal. He got hungry when he burned calories, and his body demanded rest when he pushed it to the absolute limit.
Beneath the heavy oak desk in the adjoining master study, Yuriko felt the heavy vibrations of his footsteps. Sensing that her tormentor had finally awakened, she hurriedly mustered her last, desperate reserves of strength and began to thrash against her bindings.
"Mmph... mmph...!"
Hearing the muffled commotion and the rattling of heavy wood coming from the study, Adrian finally remembered his unfinished business.
"Oh my, my—I really must apologize! I actually completely forgot about you, Madam," Adrian said smoothly, strolling into the study.
He sat down with unhurried composure in the leather armchair, gazing down at Yuriko with a beaming, predatory smile.
"Mmph... mmph...!"
Yuriko lifted her head from the carpet, letting out a faint, desperate, muffled cry.
"Whoa! Madam, how did you end up in such a wretched state?" Adrian asked with a look of feigned, mocking shock.
Staring down at the once-untouchable Wall Street elite—whose beautiful, aristocratic face was now streaming with a pathetic mixture of tears, sweat, and snot—he felt a dark thrill of absolute dominance.
"Mmph... mmph...!"
Gone was the haughty, icy pride she had displayed just last night. Upon hearing the man's callous, mocking remark, two fresh, humiliated streams of tears immediately spilled from Yuriko's bloodshot eyes.
"Let us talk this out calmly. Do not go bursting into tears at the slightest provocation," Adrian sighed performatively.
Seeing her in such a wretched, entirely broken state, Adrian felt his spirits lift considerably. Only then did he lean down and unbuckle the heavy straps, finally removing the massive, suffocating gag from her jaw.
"Please... please... let me go to the bathroom! I beg of you! Please!"
This time, Yuriko didn't resort to aristocratic venom or death threats. The instant she could breathe, she began to plead outright, her voice hoarse and broken.
"Oh? What is the rush?" Adrian propped his chin in his hand, leaning forward to ask with a dark smile.
"Please! I beg you! Let me go to the bathroom—let me go! I am going to die! I really am going to die!" Yuriko wailed, openly sobbing as she cried out, her dignity entirely atomized.
"Tsk, tsk—it seems you still haven't quite mastered the technique yet, Madam," Adrian smiled, observing Yuriko's contorted, sweating expression of sheer agony with evident amusement.
The previous night, after mercilessly pumping three liters of heavy enema fluid into her bowels, Adrian had simply secured her bindings and gone straight to bed. After all, if one is going to perform a 'cleansing,' one ought to be extremely thorough about it.
The human body's absolute maximum capacity is roughly five liters; as long as that threshold isn't breached, there is theoretically no risk of a fatal rupture. However, the physical agony of holding it is a different matter entirely.
Yuriko had spent the entire, agonizing night being tormented nearly to the point of madness by the crushing pressure in her abdomen. At first, fueled by her aristocratic pride, she had managed to rely on sheer willpower to keep her sphincter muscles locked tight. However, the cramping in her gut grew exponentially more violent with each passing, excruciating wave. By the early hours of the morning, the pain was so blinding that she no longer had the mental energy to maintain control—her only primal thought was to expel the fluid immediately.
Yet, Adrian had anticipated her breaking point. He had inserted an expanding, surgical anal plug—one fitted with a heavy locking retention ring—deep inside her rectum. Consequently, even when her pride shattered and she was finally willing to cast aside her last shred of dignity and soil herself, she found she was physically, utterly unable to relieve the pressure.
"Please! I beg you! I really cannot take it anymore—I'm dying!" Yuriko pleaded frantically, her hips bucking uselessly.
This gut-wrenching, agonizing internal pressure had tormented her for the better part of ten hours; even a hardened soldier couldn't have endured it without breaking. Many people can boldly claim they aren't afraid of death, but very few truly understand the horror of ceaseless, unrelenting pain.
Clearly, Yuriko—who had lived a life of pampered luxury and intellectual dominance since childhood—might not have feared a bullet, but this particular, degrading brand of biological torture was something her brilliant mind simply could not process or bear.
"But, Madam, there is still something I haven't done yet. Would you mind waiting just a little longer until I've finished my morning business before I attend to you?" Adrian asked, gazing mischievously at the pleading woman.
"Please! I beg you! I really can't take it anymore! I'm going to die! Argh—I'm dying! Please!"
Yuriko instantly panicked, a fresh wave of blinding cramps hitting her. Just last night, before going to sleep, this bastard had coldly told her to "wait a moment"—and that "moment" had turned into an entire night of absolute hell.
In truth, she had begun struggling frantically the moment the monster had turned out the lights to rest. However, before drifting off, Adrian had securely anchored the four heavy legs of the desk to the floorboards. Consequently, no matter how wildly she thrashed about throughout the night, the commotion she created was negligible—certainly not enough to disturb a superhuman's slumber.
Honestly, before Adrian finally woke up, Yuriko had nearly convinced herself her intestines were going to rupture and she would die from toxic shock!
"It is fine; you will not die. Just wait while I go use the restroom down the hall. I will be back in two hours, tops," Adrian grinned, placing the digital alarm clock right in front of Yuriko's sweating face.
"Please, I beg you—let me go first! Let me go first! I will do anything you ask! I will agree to absolutely anything! I'm begging you!"
Yuriko's stomach was already throbbing with excruciating, rhythmic pain—so much so that her rectum felt as if it were on the verge of splitting open. Now, hearing him actually mention the act of using the toilet, she felt the psychological intensity of her abdominal agony flare up several degrees higher.
Large beads of sweat rolled down Yuriko's forehead. At this point, the proud Wall Street elite was willing to do absolutely anything—no matter how degrading—just to be allowed to empty herself.
"Oh? Is that so? Then open your mouth wide," Adrian commanded.
Seeing the beautiful woman's desperate, shattered expression, Adrian knew the moment was finally right. He was about to organize a massive, strategic relocation of the refugees; before that could happen, he absolutely had to ensure that his newest piece of livestock was fully evacuated and ready for transport.
Three liters of fluid had been held inside her body all night long. By now, Yuriko's normally flat, athletic belly was distended to the point where she looked five or six months pregnant. While remaining motionless posed no immediate problem, carrying her around and jostling her during a tactical convoy could very well cause a fatal internal rupture.
Yuriko froze. She assumed he was expecting her to perform oral sex on him. After a brief moment of horrified hesitation, her biological desperation overrode her pride. She resigned herself to her fate, squeezed her eyes shut, and opened her mouth.
Admittedly, she had never degraded herself by performing oral sex in her life—not even Soichiro had ever enjoyed the services of her tongue. Yet, for the sake of her intestines—which felt as if they were about to literally snap—she decided she would just have to grit her teeth, abandon her humanity, and endure the humiliation.
However, the scenario she had anticipated never materialized.
Just as Yuriko closed her eyes, bracing herself to endure what she believed would be the greatest sexual humiliation of her life, she felt a heavy splash of warm liquid strike her face.
The liquid reeked of a sharp, unmistakable stench.
"You... you..."
The beautiful woman suddenly snapped her eyes open in horror. A steady stream of warm, morning urine was shooting directly down toward her face, splattering across her exquisite, aristocratic features—and, incidentally, landing right inside her open, waiting mouth.
"Ahhh—!"
Yuriko felt as though her brilliant mind was completely shattering. How dared this man humiliate her in such a vile, unspeakable manner? It was absolutely outrageous!
"Quite the fiery spirit, aren't you?" Adrian chuckled. Seeing that the beautiful woman still had the indignant strength to thrash and sputter, he couldn't help but marvel at her aristocratic willpower. Under these circumstances, shouldn't she have completely given up the by now?
"I'm going to kill you! I'm going to kill you!" Yuriko screamed hysterically, her eyes turning bloodshot with absolute, unhinged rage, spitting the foul fluid from her lips.
"Tsk, tsk—settle down, livestock."
However, no matter how fiercely she screamed, it wouldn't do her any good. Adrian couldn't be bothered to pay any mind to her empty threats. He simply relieved himself thoroughly all over the beautiful woman's face and hair.
Only when he was entirely finished did he reach down under the desk and brutally yank the heavy anal plug from her rear.
"I'm going to ki... Ahhh! No! Stop it! Ahhh!"
Yuriko, who had moments before appeared utterly deranged with fury, suddenly let out a piercing, humiliated shriek. As the pressurized seal was broken, her exposed, snow-white ass erupted like a geyser, unleashing a torrential, horrifying wave of filth across the study floor.
"How absolutely disgusting," Adrian remarked coldly, stepping back to avoid the splash zone.
He had no desire to linger and watch such a vile, chaotic scene unfold. He quickly zipped his pants, turned on his heel, and walked out, slamming the heavy doors shut behind him.
He still had to organize the evacuation of the survivors, after all. He was a very busy warlord.
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