The Tyrant's Happy Ending - Chapter 4.6

“I don’t think we can manage it, the resistance is too strong. Bring that over.”

Shortly after, they returned with a large leather collar, fit for a beast, and roughly fastened it around Yernen’s pale, slender neck. The other end was secured to the rusted metal frame of an old bed.

“A rebellious dog needs to be leashed, wouldn’t you say?”
Laughter erupted from various corners, a chorus of mocking snickers.

It was only after three more knights joined in, restraining him with a leash, that the freezing water resumed pouring into Yernen’s helpless body from behind.

“Hmph…! Stop… that’s enough…!”

The water filled her stomach rapidly, yet it didn’t stop. Shivering from the cold, she began stamping her feet in a panic, terrified that her stomach might burst. Glancing down, she saw her abdomen swelling into an unnatural shape.

Tears welled up in her eyes.

“흐으으, 흐으으.”

But more than the fear, what made Yernen shrink in terror were the ten pairs of eyes scanning his trembling body, as if he were prey.

The humiliation was unbearable, a deep, soul-crushing shame that blurred even the faint reason he had clung to life so far. In that moment, the urge to take his own life was overwhelming.

“Agh…!”

His belly swelled so much that his shirt strained tightly against it.

“…Going to die.”

“Hmm?”

Albert, the duke, leaned in, his voice curious after hearing Yernen’s barely audible murmur.

“What was that, Your Highness?”

“I’m… I’m going to die. My stomach’s going to burst, and I’ll die.”

Soft, pitiful whimpers escaped him.

“Pft.”

“Hahaha!”

Laughter erupted from the men surrounding Yernen, mocking his fear.

“Humans don’t die that easily.”

Despite their words, mercifully, the water stopped flowing, but the reprieve only marked the beginning of another kind of torment.

“Sniff…”

The knights no longer restrained him; there was no need.
Yernen, now broken, crawled into the farthest corner his leash would allow, his wide, frightened eyes darting between the cruel gazes of those encircling him, like a wounded animal awaiting its fate.

Everyone’s eyes were fixed on different parts of Jernen’s body, but in the end, they were all focused on him. Some were staring at his flushed face, others at his swollen stomach, some at his exposed, pale buttocks, and still others hungrily eyed his slender legs.

But Jernen no longer cared about their gazes. His mind was consumed by a single thought: the desperate need to expel the water filling his body.

With nothing to block it, the dirty water slowly leaked out whenever he lost concentration. Sitting with his legs pressed tightly together, Jernen struggled to hold back. His face, his back, his entire body was soaked with cold sweat.

He wanted nothing more than to release the pressure in his stomach, to free himself from the unbearable discomfort. But he couldn’t. He knew that although it was just water going in, what would come out wouldn’t be as clean. He couldn’t let them witness such a humiliating scene.

A tear-streaked bead of sweat rolled down his nose.
“Please… let me go to the bathroom,” Jernen whispered, his voice trembling. The humiliation of begging those who had degraded him brought more tears to his eyes.

“That won’t be possible,” came the cold response.

“What?! Then you’re saying I have to… do it here?!” Jernen’s voice was incredulous.

“And what, exactly, do you mean by ‘that’?” Petra Marquis taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. Jernen gritted his teeth in fury, glaring at him. How could this man, from a family that had produced a pope, someone whose brother was the current pope, say such things?

“Are you seriously asking that?” Jernen retorted through gritted teeth, trembling with both fury and humiliation.

The man smirked as he pulled out a pocket watch and checked the time.

“It’s already been ten minutes. Even those with a plug find it hard to endure that long… You’ve done quite well. It seems you’re naturally talented—tightening that rear of yours.”

“What did you just say?!” Jernen’s body shook with a mix of rage and terror, but his anger had no effect on the crowd around him.
Of course, it didn’t.

Jernen Helio, once the cherished son of the former emperor and empress, once destined to marry the ruler of the North, Duke Belltimore, had now been reduced to little more than a plaything, a sexual slave at the mercy of those who had captured him on this isolated island in the imperial palace’s outskirts.

“We’re running out of time, so let’s move on to the next step.”

“Move on? No…!” Jernen gasped.

One of the knights grabbed his ankle and yanked him up from his crouched position in the corner, exposing his most private and vulnerable parts to everyone present.

“No! Stop! Please, no!” Jernen screamed, writhing desperately in an attempt to cover himself.

But with a sudden loss of control, dirty water gushed out from him, spilling onto the floor.

The sickening sound of dripping filled the room.

“Ugh… no…” Jernen whimpered, already aware that this was only the beginning of the torment to come.

“Spread him. Right here,” a cold, cruel voice ordered.

“Don’t… please don’t!” Jernen cried, trying to resist, but it was futile. The knights manhandled him with brutal force, flipping his body over.

Before he could even process what was happening, someone’s hand forced its way between his thighs and into the wet mess between his legs. He wanted to block out the horrible, obscene noises, but with his hands bound, there was nothing he could do.

“Ugh… stop… please…” Jernen sobbed, tears streaming down his face.

Laughter erupted from those around him.

A horrible touch and foul smell rose from between Jernen’s crotches. Jernen chewed on his lip and flushed bright red, unable to control himself, but then his face broke into a furious expression and he raised his eyes to glare at Duke Albert.

A tear slipped from the corner of her red eyes and rolled down her cheek, trembling with shame.

‘I don’t know how you can be so filthy.’

‘Well, you smell like filth.’

A chorus of giggling voices held their noses in unison, spilling words here and there that mocked Jernen.

‘Ugh…!’

Jernen shuddered and glared at them all.

It was a travesty. It would be impossible for anyone to be lustful at such a filthy sight. However, there was a stirring lust in the pit of everyone’s stomach at the sight of the heavenly youngest prince reduced to a miserable wretch.

‘Go on,’ said Duke Albert, feeling his balls tighten.

‘Go on.’

At the sound, the knights grabbed Jernen’s thin arms again.

‘Don’t!’

The knights treated Yernen like a rude child. Water was splashed on Yernen’s groin again and again as he was dragged to his feet, and in no time at all the hut was clean again, thanks to the knights and their starters.

But Jernen knew in his gut that this did not mean the end. Maybe this was the beginning, and his intuition was always right.

‘Let’s pick up where we left off.’

‘Hmph…!’

With that, Jernen’s head dropped back down to the ground and his arse thrust skyward.

‘Get off me!’

Yernen’s crimson body flushed with shame at the prospect of the ordeal to come, but try as he might, he could not shake off the well-trained knights, not with a potato and not with a slender body that had aged for years.

Soon the water began to flow again between Yernen’s arse cheeks, and she shuddered and squirmed at its coldness.

His hips buckled as he struggled against the water, but it was a futile effort. Thick tears fell steadily from Yernen’s eyes as she was subjected to the most miserable treatment she had ever experienced.

‘Hmph… Hmph…!’

And once her emotions were overwhelmed, she could no longer control them and could not stop crying.

But Jernen did not know. His miserable, tear-streaked face, looking as if everything had fallen apart, only served to further inflame the spirits of those watching him.

Chirp.

Yernen’s face, which was already so red it couldn’t possibly be any redder, flushed even deeper as the shameful sound leaked out from below once more.

‘Let me go….’

His voice came out poorly, weak and raspy, but his grip on Yernen’s body was unyielding.

Five times enemas later, Yernen sagged, powerless to resist, and simply opened as wide as the knights would allow, excreting water into a large basin.