SD | Chapter 1.1

A man was dragged in roughly, bound in restraints. His tangled black hair was smeared with blood, and his slightly grayish-brown skin bore numerous wounds. The scar running diagonally across his face appeared very old.

His muscular body stood at a height that must have been at least 2 meters tall, requiring considerable effort from those dragging him despite his lack of resistance.

When the man raised his head, his gray eyes shone clearly.

“Traitor Blake Riverd, lower your head.”

But Blake kept his head raised, staring at the masked man with a burning gaze.

He was Blake’s superior and commander, Colin. The ridiculous-looking mask was what people called “pierrot” in the old days of prosperity, now only used to conceal the identities of high-ranking officials.

Art had nearly disappeared in this era. Even small scribbles were rare, and such things were beyond valuation. Artworks were exclusively for the upper class.

“Traitor Blake Riverd, do you admit to deceiving citizens with false ideology and attempting rebellion?”

“I do not admit it.”

“How dare you lie?!”

“C-class and D-class people are living lives no different from livestock. What’s wrong with helping them? Colin, please listen to me.”

But Colin said nothing, merely looking down at Blake through his smiling mask. Blake gritted his teeth. Baring his sharp teeth, he shouted as if spitting venom:

“I was only trying to make this world better! I—”

“Blake.”

Colin crossed his legs, resting his chin on his hand as he murmured in a low voice:

“Your only duty as an A-class was to remain loyal to the nation. Was that so difficult?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Colin!”

“No. You betrayed me, Blake. You need to realize how weak you truly are.”

Colin lightly pointed at Blake’s despairing expression with his finger.

“Brand him and throw him in the detention camp. Let him be properly punished to come to his senses. Ah, but before that…”

Colin’s chin moved slowly. Blake instinctively realized the man behind the mask was smiling.

“We must interrogate him first. To see if he has accomplices.”

At that moment, the men holding Blake pressed the back of his head down, smashing his face into the floor. The cold floor touched his face. The smell of blood in his nose and the heavy hands pressing him down made it hard to even breathe. The mocking laughter around him and the feeling of humiliation. But worse than that was the gaze from behind that mask.

“Strip him. Completely.”

The soldiers obeyed the command without hesitation. Blake instinctively twisted his body in resistance, but the shackles on his wrists and ankles didn’t budge. The murmuring around him grew louder, mixed with some laughter. Colin just watched silently behind his smiling mask.

Blake’s coat was removed, and rough hands tore his shirt. His heavy, large chest was exposed, his nipples hardened and pointed from the cold, dry air. With each piece of clothing removed, the cold air brushed against his wounded skin. He tried to hide his face burning with shame, but his eyes remained fixed on Colin.

Ridiculously, the man’s nipples were particularly red. As if embarrassingly out of place, someone said with a laugh:

“Look at that, like a piece of fruit. What an honor to see Blake’s tits.”

Everyone burst into laughter. Blake glared at them with eyes full of humiliation and betrayal, his teeth clenched. His bloodshot gray eyes were full of contempt for their vulgar words. The man who met his gaze flinched momentarily but soon stood tall when he saw Blake was bound.

“What are you waiting for? Get his pants off now!”

“Damn it, open your eyes! Do you know where you are?”

“You’ll regret this.”

His voice was murderously sharp. The low, chilling tone made the hands fumbling at his waistband pause. But soon they undid the belt-like cord and unbuttoned his pants. Hands reached into his underwear. The teasing laughter grew louder.

“Take out his dick! Take it out!”

“Let’s see how small it is! Smaller than a finger?”

“Oh, poor Commander Blake! No, just Blake now… I bet it’s the size of a sausage, and that’s at full size.”

But ridiculously, when his underwear was pulled down, Blake’s half-hard dick was surprisingly large, as thick as a child’s forearm.

The men who wanted to humiliate him with his size fell silent. But soon their gazes changed subtly. The man’s buttocks, revealed as his underwear came down, were remarkably firm.

The perfectly shaped buttocks were larger than most women’s, clenched tight so that pinkish folds were faintly visible between the tanned skin. The exposed flesh was like tempting petals, contrasting with Blake’s strong, large body.

A large hand grabbed the buttocks where fingernail marks were clearly visible from the forced stripping.

“…What!”

“I’ve never seen such large buttocks before.”

“Kgh!”

While the man was distracted, other hands grabbed his chest. They twisted his protruding nipples hard. The sharp pain and inexplicable stimulation made Blake moan and twist his body. His eyelids twitched. The men touching his chest didn’t miss his reaction and began kneading harder.

“What are you doing now…! Let go, ah?”

“Oh? Are you… feeling something?”

“Impossible!”

Blake trembled violently, veins bulging in his neck as he clenched his teeth. But the fingers persistently rubbed and tormented his firm chest, the nails scraping his nipples. Feeling what seemed like electric currents running down his spine, Blake could only breathe heavily.

His tense body was overly sensitive to every stimulus. Had he been calmer, he might have only felt pain, but his alert body felt every touch acutely.

His round buttocks jiggled. The tanned flesh was roughly squeezed. The men watching the pretty destruction under their hands were painfully aroused. They wanted to pin him down and take him right there. In this world where women were scarce, this was one way to relieve sexual desire.

But some still believed in Blake. Those who couldn’t believe what they were seeing closed their eyes or turned away. Some who had respected their superior wanted to kill themselves seeing him stripped and humiliated. But they couldn’t help but listen to those strange moans.

“Nh, ugh, nh…”

It was a strange, lewd sound, a low voice like scraping the floor. Blake, with his arms bound behind him, knelt with his chin raised, trembling. His ears turned red with shame at having his private parts exposed, his eyelids flushed. Heat seemed to radiate from his parted lips.

“Look at this, the noble and proud Blake…”

Someone stomped hard on Blake’s buttocks with a shoe. The humiliating act made the man’s eyes widen.

A shoe print the size of a door remained on his buttocks.

“Who would have thought he’d fall so low?”

While some respected Blake, others resented him. Some were jealous, thinking A-class born like him were forgiven everything and lived in luxury. Had they known Blake’s struggles, they wouldn’t think so, but people only see what they want to see in those they dislike.

Moreover, Blake disliked those born to lower classes who didn’t even try, so clashes were inevitable.

“Look at those saggy tits. He must have wanted to be touched so badly to grow them that big.”

“…Hey! Stop it!”

Finally, one man couldn’t take it anymore. It was Talios. Blake’s direct subordinate, a man who had sworn loyalty after being saved by the hero on the battlefield. Unable to look at Blake’s state directly, he grimaced and pushed away those insulting his commander.

“Are you siding with a traitor, Talios?”

“A traitor? Commander Blake has never committed treason. He only acted for the country!”

Colin laughed, fiddling with his mask. The gaudy rings on his fingers glinted.

“I see. Talios, you make a fair point. We should verify whether Blake is truly innocent.”

The man nodded lightly and said:

“Bring the frame now. We’ll hang Blake on display in the public square.”

Talios’s face, which had brightened momentarily, instantly fell. Behind the mask, Colin seemed to be smiling.

“If he’s truly innocent, no one will lay a hand on him.”

The man strung up on the frame was stark naked.

His neck and wrists were bound so tightly he could barely move, forcing his hips and waist to jut backward, exposing his privates. From the embarrassingly bare perineum to the smooth curve of his buttocks, every twitch came with the cold, dry breeze. His sturdy thighs, veins bulging with tension, strained to hold him up.

His bushy manhood, thick as a child’s forearm, was impossible to ignore—how could he hide something like that? The seductive line of his thick waist and the flexing muscles of his back drew every eye as they rippled with each movement.

And so, Blake Riverd was displayed in the heart of the capital city’s public square.

At first, curious onlookers gathered, wondering what was happening. But their faces soon twisted in shock. And who could blame them? This kind of punishment—strung up on a frame—was reserved for the vilest criminals. Yet the man dangling there was none other than the famous Blake Riverd.

Blake, the so-called guardian of the city, was a soldier everyone admired. Despite being A-grade, he’d joined the dangerous army, always standing at the front lines to protect people, earning fame along the way. Kids looked up to him. He was everyone’s idol. A hero.

“Blake Riverd has committed treason against the nation. As an example, he’ll be hung in this public square for a week. Anyone who dares bring him food or water will face severe punishment, so take heed.”

The tense air froze the crowd. No one stepped forward; they only exchanged wary glances. Treason? Blake? It sounded absurd, but no one dared challenge it.

Learned helplessness had taken root.

Watching the silent crowd, a man named Kelved smirked, mocking them.

“Idiots.”

He began unbuckling his belt.

“However, anything done to punish Blake Riverd is permitted, no matter what it is. Remember that.”

In front of the onlookers, Kelved exposed himself, licking his scarred lips as he gripped Blake’s buttocks hard. Blake flinched, straining against the frame, but his tightly bound body could barely bud utmost.

“Kelved, you…! You’ll regret this!”

“Regret? What’s a traitor like you blabbering about?”

Kelved rubbed the blunt tip of his manhood against Blake’s backside. Blake knew exactly what it was. His gray eyes widened, his eyelids flushing red. His face, twisted with humiliation, already seemed to drip with lust.

Then, with a single thrust, a brutal shock tore through him.

“…Agh!”

The unyielding passage was forced open as Kelved’s tip plunged in. The tight inner walls clamped down, resisting fiercely. Despite Blake’s clear rejection, Kelved ignored it, pushing deeper, forcing his way through the constricting flesh. Excruciating pain surged. Cold sweat dripped down Blake’s body. His legs trembled.