A Straight Old Man... - Nighttime machine torture and the sound of the TV

After the daytime torment ended, Yamada Tarou had been staring at the ceiling in the corner of the living room. His body could no longer move. The skin that Michiru and Meiko had carefully wiped clean, the new ultra-absorbent diaper—given enough time, they would all become soiled again. Knowing this, the body they had cleaned felt hollow instead. (...Night is coming.) That single fact filled Yamada's chest with cold dread. Outside the window, the sun was setting. The western sky burned red, then gradually deepened into dark indigo. The lights in the living room were still off. In the dim room, Yamada sat alone, strapped into his wheelchair, waiting for time to pass. From the kitchen came the sounds of dinner preparation. Tap tap tap. The sound of a knife striking the cutting board. The sizzle of oil. The clink of dishes. And the cheerful voices of Michiru and Meiko. "How about curry tonight?" "Sounds good, the kids will love it." Their voices were as bright as ever. Yamada closed his eyes, listening. (In a normal household... I should be part of that circle too.) His throat tightened. Perhaps from the fluids lost during the daytime torment, his body still felt heavy, and the back of his head was hazy. His mouth was dry, his lips cracked. (Today... eight at night...) Yamada counted the time in his mind. Six in the morning, noon, eight at night, two in the dead of night. Four times a day, two hours each. This wheelchair that Reiko had engineered would begin moving mercilessly at the appointed times. Yamada's body had been brought back to this house to be violated by machines. * * * The smell of dinner drifted into the living room. The aroma of curry. The warm, appetizing scent of onions, meat, and spices mingling together. Yamada's stomach growled softly. (Even though I'm hungry...) But he couldn't join them at the table. From beyond the living room came the children's voices. "Thanks for the food!" "I want seconds!" The energetic voices of the young twins. "Michio, did you wash your hands?" "I did." "Michiji too?" "...I washed them." The slightly deeper voices of the older sons. Everyone was gathered at the dining table in the living room. Yamada bit his lip as he listened. (Only I... am not at that table...) His heart pounded heavily in his chest. * * * When dinner ended, the sound of the TV began drifting from the living room. The theme song of the children's favorite anime. A bright, upbeat melody. "Ahaha, this character is hilarious!" "Totally!" Innocent laughter. Yamada listened from the corner of the living room. The wheelchair's backrest was still upright. But he could feel the machinery waiting deep within. This cage Reiko had built would begin moving mercilessly at the appointed time. (How many more minutes...) Yamada looked at the wall clock. The hour hand was approaching eight. The second hand ticked away. To Yamada, that sound was like a countdown to execution. * * * Whirr. The moment he heard that sound, every pore on Yamada's body seemed to open. "...Ah." A voiceless sound escaped him. The backrest slowly reclined. Simultaneously, metal arms extended from both sides of the seat, spreading apart Yamada's thighs—his legs amputated below the knees—left and right. His pelvis and hip joints were locked at an angle that would never return to normal. "...S...stop..." His pleas never reached the machine. From the living room, the TV was still audible. The children's laughter too. (They can hear it... and yet no one...) Yamada's heart hammered in his chest. His breathing grew shallow, his lips trembling. * * * From the wheelchair's storage compartment, a mesh device woven from silver wire slowly rose up. It was a mechanical hand, designed to envelop Yamada's enormous scrotum. The wire mesh approached, subtly changing shape to match the contours of the scrotum packed with sixteen testicles. The cold touch of metal brushed against Yamada's inner thighs. "...H...hii..." Yamada bit the inside of his lip, trying to suppress his voice. The taste of iron spread through his mouth. The wire mesh slowly enveloped the entire scrotum. The sensation of sixteen testicles being tucked into the mesh one by one. It was as if mechanical fingers were sorting through them. Squelch... The first contraction began. The mesh kneaded each testicle separately. The subtle expansion and contraction of the wires stroked, pressed, and massaged the surface of the scrotum. "...Ah... aah..." Yamada's hips lifted involuntarily. His body was responding. Even though he hated it. Even though he was terrified. Even though his family was nearby. Still, the body Reiko had modified received the machine's stimulation as pleasure. Yamada's penis grew hard inside the ultra-absorbent diaper. Clear pre-cum oozed from the tip. At the same time, other wires extended from both sides of the backrest. AI-equipped wires with small rings at their tips. They moved hesitantly over Yamada's chest, then found the base of his nipples—swollen to the size of softballs—beneath his clothes. "...S...stop...!" The wire rings were fitted onto the base of both nipples simultaneously. Squeeze... The rings tightened, constricting the base of his nipples. Nipples with eight times the sensitivity of a woman's were crushed by the wires. The pain and pleasure exploded white behind Yamada's eyes. "...AAAAAAAH!!" He couldn't fully suppress his voice. The TV volume in the living room went up slightly. (They heard...) Yamada's heart leaped with terror. His family was raising the TV volume to drown out his voice. That, to Yamada, was even more painful. * * * The wheelchair's seat split open with a sound. "...Eh...?" Before Yamada's eyes, a black shape rose from within the seat. It was a massive dildo. Ten centimeters in diameter at the tip, twenty at the base, forty-five centimeters long. A mechanical penis, custom-ordered by Reiko to fit Yamada's body. "...Please... stop...!" Ignoring Yamada's pleas, the dildo slowly approached his anus. His perpetually gaping anus no longer had the strength to resist. The hole, dilated to five centimeters, easily accepted the dildo's tip. Squelch... "...AAAAAAAH!!!" The dildo was inserted to the base in one thrust. The anterior wall of his rectum crushed his prostate from within. The second prostate Reiko had transplanted responded to the dildo's invasion, violating Yamada's body from the inside. "...Ah... aah... so... so deep...!" Yamada's hips lifted involuntarily. The dildo's pistoning began. Back-and-forth thrusting. Vibration. Rotating head. Three movements simultaneously churned Yamada's rectum. At the same time, an extremely thick bougie rose from the side of the wheelchair. The AI-equipped bougie found Yamada's erect urethra and pressed its tip against the opening of his glans. "...S...stop...!" Squelch... The bougie was screwed into his urethra. The urethra, dilated to three centimeters, swallowed the thick bougie without resistance. When it reached the entrance of his bladder, the bougie began pistoning back and forth. "...AAAAAAAH!!!" His urethra and rectum were penetrated simultaneously, his nipples crushed, his testicles kneaded. Four torments completely dominated Yamada's body. * * * From the living room came the sound of the TV. The children's laughter too. But all of it felt distant. The only sounds reaching Yamada's ears were the wet noises from his own body and the hum of machinery. Squelch... squelch... squelch... Each time the dildo moved in and out of his rectum, the sound of mucus and air mixing echoed. Whirr... whirr... The wires kneaded his testicles and constricted his nipples. Each time the bougie churned his urethra, unrestrained moans escaped Yamada's mouth. "...Nn... ah... nnn...!" Drool spilled from Yamada's lips. His eyes were wide open, unfocused. Pleasure, shame, and terror churned together in his brain. (Don't look...) (Don't look at your father like this...) Screams echoed in Yamada's heart. But his body continued to be violated by the machine. * * * "...Does it smell weird to you?" From the living room came the voice of Michio, the eldest son. That single sentence pierced Yamada's heart. (It smells...) (So it really does smell...) Yamada's shame heightened his body's sensitivity even further. The more he was humiliated, the more his body responded. That contradiction wore away at Yamada's spirit. "...I'll open the window a bit." Michiru's voice sounded flustered. The sound of a window opening. Night air flowed into the living room. A cool breeze touched Yamada's sweat-soaked skin. But the smell didn't disappear. The sickly-sweet odor of semen, urine, and sweat mixed together filled the room. (I'm sorry...) (Everyone... I'm sorry...) Yamada wept, apologizing over and over in his heart. * * * The TV volume went up further. Meiko was operating the remote. The children watched TV as if nothing had happened. But the older sons were different. Michio and Michiji sat on the sofa, not looking at each other, pretending not to hear their father's presence. Their fists were clenched tightly on their knees. Hard enough for their nails to dig into their palms. (I'm sorry...) (Your father is... like this...) Yamada bit his lip, sensing his sons' presence. The taste of blood spread through his mouth. From his bitten lip, a red line ran down his chin and dripped onto his chest. * * * Splurt! Yamada's penis erupted with semen inside the ultra-absorbent diaper. Another ejaculation—he'd lost count. But the semen, increased in volume by Reiko's modifications, exceeded the diaper's absorption capacity and overflowed, soaking the blanket. At the same time, he lost control of his bladder. Warm urine ran down Yamada's thighs and spread across the wheelchair seat. "...Coming... coming... I'm coming again...!" A mixture of semen and squirt sprayed from his urethra. The sweat, tears, and drool wouldn't stop. The blanket grew heavy and wet with semen, sweat, and urine. Around the wheelchair, the sickly-sweet smell grew even stronger. * * * "...Dad, are you okay?" Michio stood up. "...Don't look." Michiji grabbed Michio's arm and pulled him back. "...But..." "...Don't look." Michiji's voice was low and trembling. The two sat back down on the sofa. Only the TV sound echoed through the living room. Listening to his sons' conversation, Yamada couldn't stop crying. (Don't look...) (Please... don't look...) But deep in his heart, there was also a desire to be seen. Being seen made his body respond even more. That contradiction wounded Yamada even more deeply. * * * How much time had passed? Yamada's consciousness nearly faded many times, only to be forcibly pulled back by the machine's stimulation each time. He had lost count of the ejaculations. He had wet himself too. Tears and drool had soiled everything from his chest to his lower body. The blanket had exceeded its absorption limit and was now heavy and cold. "...I'm... sor...ry..." Words of apology spilled from Yamada's mouth. He didn't even know who he was apologizing to. To his family. To Michiru. To Meiko. To the children. And to himself. (I'm sorry... I'm sorry...) Yamada repeated it in his heart. * * * Two hours had passed. The machine's movements slowly came to a stop. The wires detached from his scrotum, the nipple rings loosened, the dildo and bougie were withdrawn. "...Ah... aah..." Yamada lay completely limp on the wheelchair, twitching and trembling. His body and the wheelchair were filthy with tears, drool, semen, and urine. Silence filled the living room. The TV in the living room had been turned off at some point. * * * After a while, Michiru and Meiko returned to the living room. Neither of them said anything. Michiru wiped Yamada's face with a warm towel. Meiko peeled off the soiled blanket and replaced the ult

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Episode 108

Name: A Straight Old Man...
Author: Novelia

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