The One and Only Sami Chapter 52

“Do you know what these are, Razard?”

“Hmm, I think I might have an idea.”

He gently shook the bottle in his hand. No sound of liquid or powder hitting the sides came from within; it seemed empty.

“Sami, do you remember what the last Marut wanted when it borrowed your body?”

At the memory, Sami’s face flushed a deep crimson of its own accord.

That Marut had a taste for oral pleasure. It had wanted to use his mouth to suck and swallow a man’s heat and the essence stored within that pillar of flesh. Consequently, Sami, synchronized with the Marut, had been overcome by a ravenous, gluttonous desire.

He remembered how, the moment he saw Razard’s member, he had been so desperate to take it into his mouth that his very mind had felt like it was melting.

As his thoughts reached that point, Sami began to grow uneasy. If that was the case, then the items in this box… they must also be related to that kind of debauchery.

“This one probably…”

Razard opened the cap of the bottle. A soft pop of escaping air sounded, as if it had been sealed for a long time. Since Razard was holding Sami from behind, Sami could see exactly what was inside the bottle.

A thin, stem-like object was poking out above the neck. Razard gripped the tip with his thumb and forefinger and pulled gently. Following his lead, a rod exactly the length of the bottle was drawn out.

Only then did Sami realize—the bottle wasn’t empty; it was so full that nothing could slosh around. It was packed with a fluid thicker than ointment and stickier than syrup. As the rod emerged, thick, gooey strings of the stuff clung to its long surface, trailing after it.

With a wet, tacky sound, the rod was fully withdrawn. Even then, a long thread of the substance stretched out until the very last second before finally snapping.

“It seems it wants me to give you a really hard time.”

Sami blinked.

‘I have no intention of taking over your body like the last Marut did.’

‘But I am going to torment you.’

The Marut’s voice he had just recalled overlapped perfectly with Razard’s words.

“Even I’ve never seen anything of this purity before.”

Razard held the clean end of the metal rod and examined it from various angles. He held the thick sap coating the thin rod up to the light before speaking.

“It’s Sea-Grape Algae extract. We don’t have an ocean in our country, so you only see this as a rare luxury brought by the Red Camel caravans or offered by the nobles who guard the western cliffs.”

The highly viscous liquid clumped together firmly without dripping, even when held up in the air. It coated the rod in a smooth, glistening layer.

“This is good.”

Razard’s eyes sparkled. Sami suddenly remembered the stories he’d heard while serving at the Salif estate—how the ruler of this land, the Master, was obsessed with rare and wondrous things.

The twin gatekeepers so massive they were thought to be the giants of legend; the white lions; the black leopards; the transparent crystal floors that let you see the running water beneath; the hookahs that breathed out glowing smoke.

And the “pet human” he kept and played with personally…

The stories hadn’t been exaggerations. Razard loved the peculiar. Because of this, the Salif family had always agonized over what tributes to send to the palace.

“What does that have to do with… tormenting me…?”

But why was he thinking about that now?

He was anxious. Sami swallowed hard and nervously watched Razard’s reaction. Razard continued to admire the glistening sap on the rod as if it were a fascinating toy.

“What does it have to do with it, you ask?”

Finished with his inspection, he plunged the rod back into the bottle. A thick, squelching sound followed, like a spoon being thrust into a jar of set jam.

Sami didn’t want to ask. Should he just say, “I’m fine,” and cover his ears now? Even if he did, it would just be like an ostrich burying its head in the sand. Sensing something ominous, Sami lowered his eyes.

“This extract causes an almost unbearable itch when applied to the skin. It’s most effective when rubbed into tight folds of flesh where the air can’t reach, preventing the sap from drying out.”

An explanation that sounded like a sophisticated way of saying, ‘This sap is perfect for sexual torture,’ spilled smoothly off Razard’s tongue. Sami looked at the bottle, then at Razard’s face, his eyes wide with shock.

“Excuse me?”

“Shall I tell you about the others?”

Sami shook his head violently, almost like a convulsion. It was a pure survival instinct. He felt like hearing anything more would lead to a disaster.

In a reality he couldn’t escape, he felt a desperate sense of dread—as if the wisest thing would be to hit himself on the back of the head and just pass out. No, it wasn’t just dread; it was a dark omen.

“It would be fun to hear, though.”

Razard moved his hands again with a feigned air of disappointment.

This time, he picked up the two rings with beads from the box. Thin, short chains dangled from the rings, and at the end of each chain hung a single round bead. At first, Sami thought they were earrings, but the rings were far too small. They were so tiny they wouldn’t even fit on a child’s earlobe, let alone an adult’s. A whistle sounded from behind Sami.

What is it this time to get that reaction?

Since he knew nothing, he couldn’t even begin to imagine. In his helplessness, he just wanted to cry.

“Sami. Are you sure that Marut said it just wanted to ‘torment’ you?”

“…Why?”

Razard leaned over, matching his posture to Sami’s hunched back, which was curled up like a frightened mouse.

“I don’t think it intended for it to end at just ‘torment.’”

Thanks to that, his whispering voice remained crystal clear, never fading.

“I think it has a taste for being pushed to the very brink of death.”

As if showing Sami, Razard clicked two similar-sized beads together. Receiving the tiny impact, the beads vibrated subtly, echoing the sensation.

“They even react to the sound of a voice.”

Razard’s calm words felt unreal and distant. Sami’s pupils shook, wavering just like those tiny, vibrating beads.

“Sami.”

“Hic…”

“Time’s up for running away.”

“Ra—Razard.”

“I have to use all of this on your body.”

Razard even lifted a cone-shaped club wrapped in round, lumpy protrusions. It was the most violent-looking of the bunch. Because it was thrust right in front of his face, he had no choice but to look.

At a glance, he thought it was just a club covered in bumps, but its construction was much more complex. It was a branch covered in rounded fruits, encased in pig intestine that had been dried multiple times to shrink-wrap it tight.

“The fruit of this tree is hard, but the branches are very elastic. So, when you finish it so it bonds well with animal innards…”

Razard pulled on the branch that stuck out like a handle. Suddenly, the round fruits, which were about the size of a thumbnail, were compressed against each other, swelling as if they were about to burst. It was already a terrifying thickness as a simple club, but when he pulled the branch, the fruits pushed upward and clumped together, swelling to the size of a baby’s fist.

“Hu… ah?”

“Normally, when an animal like a bird touches the branch, the fruit swells and then bursts to spread its seeds. But this is held tight by tough animal intestines so it only swells without bursting.”

“Ra—Razard…”

“So I can put it in, then pull it to make it swell. And when I let go, it goes back to normal like this.”

Sami began to sniffle. At first, he hadn’t known what it was, but after hearing Razard’s explanation, he had a rough idea of what it was used for.

Staring at the tool prepared to humiliate him right in front of his nose, Sami trembled uncontrollably. It was pure, unadulterated fear.

“If we leave it alone, you’ll just end up craving even greater pain later…”

Even Razard, as he tried to soothe him, seemed quite troubled. Pure intellectual curiosity about these sexual torture devices—no, tools for pleasure—aside, Razard had only ever heard of such things in rumors.

He’d thought they were just crude jokes from vulgar storytellers, but here they were, all real.

Razard lightly rested the lumpy club against the small of Sami’s back. He could see the tense body jump, but he was actually trying to gauge things for Sami’s sake—wondering if this thing could even fit into those small buttocks.

Even for Razard, who had spent a month heightening Sami’s sensitivity with sleeping incense and aphrodisiacs, this was quite a predicament.

He couldn’t tell if the desire of the Marut that ‘wanted to torment’ was for pleasure or for pain.

“I’ve been given a difficult homework assignment… but the point is, you just need to be pushed to the limit, right?”

“N-No, no. That… Razard, don’t put that… that thing on me.”

“Sami, it’s okay. We’ve done a lot of preparation for this.”

Razard finished his thought and grabbed Sami’s wrist.

“You can let it all out.”

“N-No…”

Just endure it, cry, and then pass out. You’ve been good at that so far, so you can do it, Sami.

Those whispers made Sami’s skin crawl. Sami just wanted to faint right now.