I was now in bed, dressed in a nightgown after he had dragged me to shower and not helped me to wash, but just sneered angrily. My hair was all wet, but I was even a little cleaner.
He came to sit next to me, talking to me in a dangerous voice, the voice that normally made him make me a shed session, "You know, Mimi, I tried to avoid this, but you don't give me a choice. First, you deliberately ruin your heat, and then you're secretly happy about it. I can guarantee you, Baby, you'll be sorry you ruined your heat!"
He triggered a symptom implant, one at first. I had a headache; I felt sick. I wasn't eating well anyway, and I'd already lost a little weight, and now I felt sick again and didn't need to eat a bit of it. Then I started to get a fever. I lay on the bed, shaking like a leaf, helpless, drugged, and full of symptoms and I had no idea what symptoms were from the implant and what was not.
Time was something that I had no idea of, had it been days since he triggered the implant, or a week, or just hours, I was sick, getting weaker and sicker but he was still furious with me and most definitely did not want to help me at all.
"Good luck, Baby! You've got yourself a uterine infection. Hurray for that!" Damon was furious. He yelled at me.
He kept me medicated either by having one of the dozens of implants already in place to drain all the time or by taking me around the castle walking and occasionally draining my stomach full of sedatives. He got so mad at me for having an inflammation of the uterus that he threw me in a cage and came into the cage. He kept giving me pheromones in order for me to keep my addiction to them.
"Pray, Mimi, that someone has spotted Mimosa's implants!" He said, voice low and threatening, making my mind panic as I had no sense of time.
He took the remote control in his hand and pressed the button every minute until the screen showed zero. He showed me, each time he pressed the button.
"How does it feel now, Baby, knowing you might have just killed your own wolf? Oh, please tell me!" He whispered, angrily, sneering at me. There was no love on his face, only hatred towards me, disgust even.
He kept me in a cage for probably a couple of days and didn't give me any pheromones the whole time. He had sensitized me so that I needed pheromones every six hours, and now it had been over 48 hours. I was shaking, dizzy, nauseous, cold. He had pressed several times on symptom implants, so there were aches and pains all over my body, from rashes to dizziness, nausea, headache, and cramps.
I didn't know what was uterine inflammation, what was from symptom implants and what was pheromone withdrawal symptoms. But I thought if I could just hold on a little bit longer, just a little bit longer, maybe I could get over the addiction. That was one thing that disgusted me beyond measure. I needed that to go away.
Damon came over to the cage and opened it up. He put my head on his neck. I had no choice but to take the pheromones. The wet dog stench made me feel a little bit better, and this urge had subsided. I hated myself for being this weak and addicted to him. I swore that I would never want to be addicted to pheromones ever again.
He dragged me back to the medbay to shower first. After I was washed, he rinsed the remnants of my uterus out through my pussy. It hurt and was really awful, but he had tied me up with spiked restraints and sedated me with jelly, so I had no choice. Then he gave me diseases this time. Arthritis on my left knee and osteoarthritis on my right hip. Ankylosing spondylitis. Tinnitus, and, of course, malaria. And schizophrenia.
He shot me with various degrees of sedative implants, which he activated immediately. Then he raped me with various dildos so violently that my pussy tore apart. Finally, I was still lying on the bed in the medbay. He had walked me again, time after time. Always coming here and restraining me, to rape me more. He took out one of the briefcases.
He talked to me in an angry voice, full of menace and threat. "This will teach you how to behave so that the next time someone puts you on a heat cycle, you'll understand heat!"
Damon was furious. The smell of wet dogs was everywhere. My joints were already aching, and the schizophrenia had me in a near panic. He had me tied to a chair. My mind was a mess, and I was feeling just awful. This place, where had had our first flank wedding, had turned in my mind the nightmarish place where I didn't want to be.
I felt all the implants, or at least most of them. I was helpless. They took away my ability to plan and react completely. He opened the briefcase and took out the biggest dildo I had ever seen. He tilted the chair back to a horizontal position and tied my legs to the stirrups.
He said, " This will teach you some manners, you bitch. First, the lube, hmm, smells like herbal."
Some kind of applicator or point penetrated my pussy. Damon pushed it all the way to the bottom. The stuff started pouring into me. It burned and stung. The pain got worse by the minute and I was moaning from the pain. He tilted the table so that the head came down even lower, gravity draining the jelly into my cuntal cavity. I felt my pussy was filled to the brim.
Damon always waited a few minutes and pushed more stuff in as it absorbed and burned. My pussy was on fire. I have no idea how many times he filled my pussy up. How much of that damn stuff he pushed into there? I felt like my pussy was on fire and even the slightest touch made the pain explode so much I scream out loud.
Finally, Damon was satisfied. All the "lube" had done its job. Satan's bitch cunt was bright red, full of tiny sores, and as Damon pushed two fingers in and spread them through the sores, more appeared. Then Damon took the "teaching rod."
Damon talked to me, calling me cunt, or bitch. I could really hear hate in his voice, something that I had never heard before. He truly hated me and he kept telling me what this teaching rod would entail.
He chatted now, was in a torture mood, and getting just started. "Baby, I want to know what you are going to experience. This one was loaded with silver, with herbs as well as metals—platinum, iridium, vanadium, rhodium, and cobalt, plus a few bacteria and a virus. The wand was pure silver on the outside and had a strong motor that would keep the wand moving for two weeks, the wand "coming" now and then."
He looked at me like a piece of meat. He was now getting over his hatred and getting more into a torture mood.
"Stuffing you, the satanic bitch, randomly with all sorts of goodies. Let's see how good of a teacher I truly am." The last sentence was again an angry sneer as he thought about how I ruined his plan to have a baby.
He grabbed the teaching rod with his gloved hand and started plunging it into the satanic bitch. His hate burned inside him so powerful.
As the rod began to sink into my already on-fire pussy, my world exploded. The rod was silver, so I could smell my own pussy burning. Whatever the broth that Damon had stuffed inside me had done a number on me because I could feel myself tearing up as he pressed the rod into me from the root. I screamed out loud, squirming in pain, trying to get loose, but I was too strongly restrained. My screams echoed in the huge spaces of this castle as the door was not closed.
I'd never been so full that my stomach was aching. This rod was enormous, and it hurt so damn bad. I felt like I was not able to move at all. And soon I would black out from the pain. Then he took my pussy lips and glued them shut. And then he scraped them with something so they bled before he sewed them together. I could feel my pussy lips being pulled together by the scar tissue. I could piss, but the rod was tight inside me.
This was like some sort of mutilation that they do in certain countries to women, but this really sealed this damn rod deep inside me. No way I could push it away from me. He seemed to love to mutilate my pussy, and he had now some sort of hate toward sex and pleasure and I had no idea why he was like that.
I thought if I stayed still, it wouldn't hurt so much. I just have to be really still. He had not untied me yet, I was sitting still and tried not to black out from pain.
Then Damon picked up another remote and said, "Hmm, maximum setting 12. I think we'll start with No. 4."
He pressed the button, and the rod inside me started to move.
The pain started in fiery waves from my cunt, spreading down to my lower abdomen. It was indescribable. I moaned from the pain, squirming and trying to bear it, but my mind was almost shut down from the pain.
Damon looked at me happily, me squirming, moaning, almost screaming out loud, my pussy burning, smell was something so foul that it made me so damn nauseous even more than I already was. The stench of wet dogs mixed with the smells made this place even worse for me.
Damon untied me from the chair and lifted me up. Again, the position of the rod changed, and the pain intensified. He took me under his arm, and we started walking. Now, he didn't flank me. He was not in the mood. This time he wanted my memories to be in this place just pure torture and pain, not a drugged wedding with flank side out.
No need to inject me with anything. The sedative implants took care of that. He walked me up the stairs. My legs didn't rise because of the symptoms; the rod hurt a lot more, and I climbed the stairs; Damon knew it. These were the same stairs that I had gracefully descended to my flank wedding and now I staggered about in pain, unable to move properly, the pain tearing through me.
The schizophrenia brought its own paranoia, and I didn't know what voice to listen to anymore. Should I jump over the railing to the ground or attack Damon? Malaria's fever began to surge. We walked in this castle so damn many times; I have no idea of what floors we went to. I could feel something dripping from my pussy. My thighs were sticky, the smell did not go anywhere, and my condition got only worse by the minute, or at least it felt like it. And Damon was walking me down the stairs and through the corridors. Then we went into one of the bedrooms. Damon put the wand on level 6.
I thought, "How can I possibly hurt any more than that?" That was one thought that I could form in my mind. There was not much else.
Now and then, the wand would spray molten lava inside me, or at least, that's what it felt like. Those metals would soon take an effect on my already weakened state, and I was not sure how long I would be able to withstand this torture anymore.
In the bedroom, Damon guided me to the bed on my stomach. The wand found another way to torture me. I screamed again, or at least tried to scream as my voice was hoarse already from the screaming. I could feel Damon undressing as he came up behind me and lifted my backside up. I was unable to move much.
He started to push into my ass and, at the same time, put the rod on level 7. I couldn't get away. I was so damn much in pain but weak and confused, so I had a hard time trying to understand my state of being. He sank into my bowels inexorably, and I felt like something was about to explode out of my stomach.
He was not so big as always, and there was no demand to surrender or submit. To him, this was just a way to torture me. He started fucking my ass. Then he pushed me fully onto my stomach, went to lie on top of me, and pushed again and again.
His weight flattened me against the bed, and the pressure inside me increased. I had no way to tell how long he kept me under him, fucking into my gut, and I did not feel him coming, not even once. finally pain was too much pressure was too much and I felt something inside me give way, and the pain from the rod subsided for a moment.
Damon placed the rod at level 9. The pain continued. Now I felt the rod moving in my gut and shooting its stuff there. It moved into my abdominal cavity. Damon slipped his hand under me and felt around for a moment, grunting with obvious satisfaction. He kept pressing his palm against the rod so that the pain would be as intense as possible.
As I screamed from pain, he came violently into my bowels. I could feel his cum spreading from my now broken bowels everywhere. He continued. And he kept going. I had no idea how long this had gone on. I sometimes blacked out from the pain. Only to come to even more pain. Finally, the rod was at level 12, clearly visible through the abdominal walls. Damon had me on my back and was lifting my legs perpendicularly up as he fucked my ass.
I was full of what now felt like hot flames of fiery pain. The rod was jerking and twisting and soon at my diaphragm. And then Damon stood up and lifted me upright, and off we went again. We walked on, and the corridors of this place became a place of nightmare and I swore in my mind that I was not going to come here for a long time after I got somehow through this.
I no longer cared about the pain the rod was causing, My mind was numbed by the pain and I had somehow turned my mind not to care about it, I felt it, and I had no access to my rage, but I was in some place in my mind where pain did not torture me so much anymore.
And Damon got angry. "Oh really, fine when I didn't want to take you to the shed, but you made me. You really made me to do this. "
He took me to the med bay, cut my stomach open, and emptied it. Then he cleaned it thoroughly and watch me grow in new organs. He packed a bump between the organs and let my stomach closed up. The symptoms had already subsided. He had kept the rod inside me for two weeks. I had been his prisoner for 12 weeks. He took me into one of the bedrooms and tied me to the bed. He put on a bump drip and filled my stomach with viscera.
He said to me, "Look, Baby, you gotta be in shape for the shed if you're gonna go in there."
He kept me in bed for a week, so I had regained some of strength. I weighed 40 kilos and had no implant in me. Metals he had not bound and a week after this long torture is not gonna get me in the best shape for shed.