In the Doghouse - Chapter 122
Courtney sat by the window at the tea table, gently swirling the glass in her hand. The rich red wine inside the transparent glass swayed, releasing a deep, fragrant aroma into the air.
“Ugh…”
A pitiful groan echoed from somewhere, but Courtney acted as if she hadn’t heard a thing. She took a sip of her wine and savored the taste. Although she wasn’t much of a drinker, she could tell that this wine was of exceptional quality—just as one would expect for an imperial banquet.
The autumn night deepened. A cool breeze drifted in through the open window, tickling her neck exposed above her robe. She lifted her gaze to the night sky, where the stars shone brightly without a single cloud to obscure them. The castle seemed to be growing livelier as the noble guests finally began to depart.
After finishing her glass, Courtney poured herself another. She continued to enjoy the tranquil beauty of the evening, while faint, agonized sounds drifted to her ears once more.
“Ugh… ngh… mmph…”
Mixed with labored breathing, it was clear someone was struggling. But Courtney didn’t even flinch. She didn’t glance in the direction of the noise, continuing to enjoy her solitude.
“Agh, aah… hhhnn, nngh…”
Richard’s desperate moaning filled the room, but she paid no attention. His suffering wasn’t meant to be noticed—he wasn’t intentionally trying to gain her favor… it was simply unbearable for him. She had warned him that if he asked for mercy too early, she would only prolong his torment.
Courtney pretended to keep admiring the view outside the window, occasionally sneaking glances at him. Despite the cool night air, Richard was drenched in sweat.
He was still managing to hold his position, though his posture was slipping a little. She wondered if she could stretch his suffering out a little longer. Without a trace of sympathy, she spoke casually.
“This wine tastes quite good. Don’t you think?”
“Hah… y-yes… hnngh…”
Richard responded with something akin to an animal’s whimper. He was drinking the same wine, but there was no way he could appreciate the taste. Yet another wave of unbearable sensations overwhelmed him.
“Ah… please, please…”
Richard involuntarily begged, his body shaking as he shifted his hips. Despite his pitiful pleas, Courtney didn’t move a muscle. Richard blinked, tears mixing with sweat, making it hard to see whether she was even looking at him.
Although they were sharing the same wine, their positions were worlds apart. Courtney sat gracefully at the table, sipping her drink, while Richard lay face down on a soft rug, completely exposed.
He had to keep his hips raised, holding his cheeks apart with his own hands. Between them, a small plug was lodged firmly in place. His head and shoulders, pressed against the floor, were flushed red from the blood rushing to them. Though the physical strain wasn’t unbearable for someone of his endurance, it wasn’t the only issue he had to contend with.
At his feet, a transparent glass syringe lay next to an empty basin. The syringe still contained traces of a reddish liquid—wine diluted with water. Richard had been forced to ingest it, but not with his mouth. The liquid now sloshed inside him, filling his stomach, and making him groan in discomfort.
“Ah… Master, please…”
His desperate pleas were directed at the empty basin nearby. That was the only place where he could finally release the turmoil brewing inside him.
When Courtney had first shown him the syringe and the basin, he had been overwhelmed with doubt. Even though he was a genuine deviant who indulged in wild fantasies every night, he had lived his entire life as the Crown Prince.
Relieving himself in such a manner, especially in front of her, was on a whole different level from enduring s-xual humiliation or pain. He feared how she might view him afterward.
But now, he didn’t care about any of that. The only thought in his mind was to release everything and find relief. Compared to the horror of losing control and making an even bigger mess, using the basin felt like an act of mercy.
Courtney stood up, and Richard let out a sigh of relief. But her steps toward him were agonizingly slow. His breath came in shallow gasps, and he trembled, barely holding himself together.
“Huuu… uugh…”
She finally reached him and stopped near his head. Richard rubbed his cheek against her slipper, silently begging for mercy. Please, just let me go, his body language pleaded. Courtney smiled at his pitiful display and spoke.
“Is it really that unbearable? Really?”
“Hah… yes, please… please, have merc— uuugh…!”
Richard twisted his body in agony, overwhelmed by the pain in his stomach. He wasn’t exaggerating—he truly couldn’t hold on any longer. He was moments away from losing control, but he couldn’t move without her permission. It was as if the option to act on his own had been erased from his mind.
Courtney licked her lower lip. Watching Richard in such a submissive state always filled her with a strange sense of satisfaction. Beyond mere superiority, it was as if she were the ruler of the world itself. The irony that the man who had lived such a life was now at her feet, writhing in desperation, only made it sweeter.
