I felt an overwhelming sense of anger. Helplessness consumed me entirely. In that dim, musty trunk of the car, the scent of oil and the hum of the car's engine transported me back to memories of the shuttle. Drugged and disoriented, I struggled to differentiate between the present moment and my haunting recollections.
I had no clue of my whereabouts or when the torment would begin, what monstrous devices he had concocted to inflict pain upon me. His presence invaded my thoughts, his sadistic satisfaction at my suffering apparent. He allowed me to experience his twisted joy, as well as the cold, clinical darkness that compelled him to harm me.
At that moment, he was Damon, not Damien or any other part of him. Damon had grown weary of my attitude, actions, and their consequences. There was a lesson to be learned. Damon must have driven for hours until the car finally came to a halt. I heard him exit the vehicle, and then all was silent. Eventually, he returned and opened the trunk.
I felt his grip as he lifted me and carried me inside. Still under the influence of the drugs, I was utterly incapacitated. There was no tenderness or compassion in his touch; I was nothing more than a mere object, destined to be tormented. He relished in my every discomfort, whether it be mental or physical.
Placing me on a cold steel table, he unveiled the blanket and turned me onto my back, securing me with spiked cuffs. He pressed them forcefully into my wrists, causing blood to seep out, staining the unforgiving surface beneath me.
He peered into my eyes, his gaze penetrating, and uttered, "Soon, you'll start to regain your senses, just a little. Then the real fun will begin. Not much, just enough for you to fully participate in this twisted entertainment. You'll remain helpless for a long time, feeling the effects of the drug coursing through your veins. Shall we commence?"
As I lay strapped to the cold, unforgiving table, he closed the heavy metal door, enclosing us in darkness. The sound of buzzing machinery filled the air, a cacophony of shuttles humming in the background. On a nearby table, a laptop and a small dictation machine sat, resembling a doctor's device. Harsh fluorescent lights beamed down from above, casting a cold, sterile glow that offered no solace or comfort in this chamber of torture.
The scent of iron and decay wafted through the air, unmistakably the smell of blood and death. It was evident that this shed had seen other victims before me. The concrete floor was marked with drainage holes, a grim reminder of the horrors that had occurred here. Three hoses were securely fastened to the wall, ready to be used for washing away the remnants of his twisted experiments. A rubber apron and thick gloves hung on one wall, a clear indication of his aversion to the bodily fluids and secretions of his victims.
Damon approached me, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. "Let's begin shaping you," he said, a sinister grin on his face. "First, I will insert a cannula into your body, allowing us to introduce our testing material. Then we'll have some fun with a new kind of jelly." His words sent chills down my spine.
"Now, I'm going to fill your bowels with this jelly," he continued, his voice laced with sadistic excitement. "You'll experience its effects soon enough. As you can feel, most of the jelly has already been absorbed, thanks to the warmth I provided. The drug now courses through your veins, keeping you sedated and helpless. You'll get used to it, or so I hope. How long it will affect your mental state, I cannot say. But that uncertainty is part of the thrill, baby."
He cannulated me, took a drip rack full of again those bags of whatever ever, and put at least five of them draining inside me. Then he took some instruments closer and started. I could feel every single incision, but I was too groggy to react even by grunting. He made an incision in my stomach and inserted a tube into my stomach, actually the start of my small intestine, and then he opened the valve. I could feel something start to drain into my increasingly relaxed bowels.
He pressed with his hands and moved the jelly along, feeling how full they were. It hurt. He drained my bowels full. He turned me on my side and put some kind of stopper or plug in my asshole so jelly would not seep out that way. It made the pressure worse even.
Tank after tank, he flooded into my bowels, my belly bulged, and quite a lot too. Probably several tanks sank in. When he was almost done, I felt the sedation slowly begin to ease. Or at least I got used to it. I was more in this moment and I could now see that this was Damien, not Damon.
Damon noticed this too and was almost triumphant. Then he let my stomach close up. He looked at me like a piece of meat and I smelled the wet dog and ashtray again. My belly was like I would be pregnant or something. It was quite hard and I could feel my stomach muscles straining.
Damon looked at my belly, pressed it, grunted as he felt the pressure, and said, "Someday baby, someday your belly will look like this but there is no jelly in there but my heir, someday you will bear my heir and then you know what is it your purpose."
I got my voice back and hissed, "Damien, I feel nothing but hate for you if I had to carry your spawn, you can be sure that pregnancy would not go finish, I would abort it as soon as possible, you are a monster, sadist with no feelings and I don't want you."
He looked at me like a piece of me. There was anger in his voice, an actual feeling as he remarked," Then baby, when it is time you get pregnant by me, I will keep you drugged for that few months, you are not human so your pregnancy would be a lot faster, it would not be too hard to keep you jellied up would it. When it comes to your attitude, I am sure that in time, you will learn to respect me, and let me do what needs to be done, and you will be eventually grateful for me because I have made you a very strong creature, and you shall be my wife, Damon will be no more. Only me, I will exist. "
He walked away, went to get one cupboard, and took some IV bags more there.
Then he returned and said, " Now get an activator in that jelly in your stomach, then you'll see. As you observed, the effect of the gas is quite long-lasting as far as getting into your intestines, so that jelly doesn't get absorbed or get out of there right away. You just have to feel it."
He hung a small two-decilitre bag to hang on the drip line and put it on full blast. That activator was soon dripped into my veins and I started to feel its effect quite soon and it was not pleasant, not at all.
At first, it felt like there was heat in my bowels, and I could feel how tight my bowels actually were. Soon the heat started to turn into pain and aching, and a few minutes later. My bowels were in pain, so much so that I was sweating in pain. Damon was pressing on my stomach, which seemed to make the pain worse. He rubbed and massaged it, which made me gasp in pain and cried out loud, too. moan from pain. Shake and almost convulse.
He said, "A neuropeptide binds to every little cell in your gut and tells you if there's an emergency in your gut. This substance tells you that, oh, yes, and it's a bad one. Even though it doesn't harm your gut at all. It's a bit like riot gas, Mace. It doesn't cause any permanent damage either, just pain. We'll be right back. Soon we get to the business, but first I will give you another substance, this green one, see how I am hanging it into your IV this makes your sense of touch very much acute, so even the slightest touch will be felt so much more acute and as you see I have lots of little shuttles to you to visit and with that extra good sense of touch, I am sure that experience will be memorable for you. Rest of life, too."
He put that damn bag in an IV, open it fully too. Soon my skin was tingling, the pressure of being on my back was getting worse as the heaviness of jelly inside me pressed me onto the table, and my shoulders ached. My stomach muscles ache. My heels ached and my wrists and ankles were on fire by spikes. That damn drug made the pain so much worse and I could not even breathe properly as the pain hit me everywhere. I thought that in this way no shuttles are necessary as I am in very severe pain as it is.
Damon looked at me for a while and then walked away, smiling coldly. He went over to the first one and saw him open the lid. Not the fucking shuttles again. This one wasn't dark plastic, though. This one had a clear lid and headrest so the victim wouldn't be inside the shuttle. He put something inside the device in place and clicked a few more switches on the panel at the end of the device.
He came up to me and said, " Did you know who designed the first one of these? It was a few scientists who were trying to come up with a solution to remove human error from surgeries and how to help surgeons and doctors when the pressure of losing a patient got too much for them and suicides happened. One of these operation-leading doctors was someone who had lost his, or her loved one to suicide when pressure got them. So an idea was to let surgeons out of the hook, so to speak. Let the machine do the work."
His voice droned on, he loved his own voice and I was in too much pain to be able to do anything but listen. This was definitely one part of this torture, to have to listen to his explanations and monotone monologues of subjects that I did not want to hear.
"This was supposed to be the new operating theatre. A personal surgical robot. Program the surgery and put the patient in; the machine scans and goes to work. No more human error. The machine has no feelings, only programs, and skills to do intricate operations where human dexterity would not be possible. These were expensive to build, and it took a lot of time and effort to program even minor operations on them, to teach the machine every little complication and anatomical quirk that could be possible when the actual operation would begin. You, as a surgeon, comprehend what I am talking about. You have to be able to react when operating and there are always surprises. So these didn't get too far. But then the pharmaceutical companies came up with research uses for these. So put the subject inside and let the machine study it. Of course, when these were kind, good medical facilities, they put the subject under, painless sleep so there was no distress. "
He tilted his head slightly to see that I, his unwilling audience, would listen to his little story. This was not Damon, his voice, and his speech patterns were different, but Jarod had told me that if one has a split personality, there are differences when they talk, even if they are part of this person. Some therapies could help them to become whole again, to embrace all their sides. I hoped that Damien was not part of Damon and never would be.
He walked around the table, brushed my damp hair away from my forehead, making me flinch, and talking just went on.
"And then those like Sark made them into torture devices. I took this inspiration from him. And I've made a fuckload of these sheds over the years. You wouldn't believe how many fleas have found these devices. And then they dismantle them nicely, and all I've had to do is go and get what I need. Not all of these places are for you; don't flatter yourself. I torture where you kill. When someone annoys me or does something, I capture and torture them to death. But as you see, I can bring you here from time to time."
He confessed to me. Just like I had been suspected.
He looked at me and said, "You are now about 55 kilos, without that jelly, so let's see if I can make you lose weight and how much. As you know, I want to challenge myself, and you baby, will be my challenge. First, we will spend time in this little place where I am getting my kicks, so to speak, while doing my medical experiment with you. And I weaken you, torture you, destroy you so you will be in pretty rough, no let's say, terrible shape after I am done with you, and the best part, I will put you in shape."
He walked around this table and talked all the time and things that I didn't want to hear or listen to, not at all. His footsteps echoed, the hum of the shuttles and the distinct smell filled the air. By now, my skin was very sensitive, and he pressed my belly or scratched me, making me yelp out of the pain.
"When I have had my fun, and you are in the shape of the enjoyable medical challenge for me, we shall go back to one house, where you will be in medbay and I, the loving husband, will be tending you. Let's see how much fun that will be, and how long your actual recovery will take, maybe then when you are up and running, you have learned your lesson to be less demanding and let me be whoever I want, and if I want to take you with me, and other women too, you will comply, because you will then see how much fun it is, to have a good group session with multiple horny women and you will learn to share me. "
He paused for a while, looked at me coldly, and said, "I will teach, you will how good a teacher I am and I will teach you for years until you are the perfect little wife. And then, I can be a good husband to you. As you know, I don't fuck. It is Damon who fucks, so I will be faithful to you, always and forever. I will be the husband that you deserve, as you will be the wife that I need."
I was a little worried now; it seemed that I had become more of an obsession than an actual victim for Damien and this was not a good thing, not at all. Because this could drive Damon away from me, as he would try to protect me.