Chapter 258: 17. Back For Good.
Damon stopped; he was no longer walking, and his expression changed. He looked at me as a piece of meat and said, " Remember, baby, I warned you what would happen to you if you ever came into my eyes again. Don't find reasons for your behavior. Always turn this around on me. I haven't jumped on strange women since then. Still, since you don't remember that I'm a telepath and you don't always notice me in your thoughts, I heard every time how happy you were with Adam; you should know me so well and know my jealousy, and then you attack my eyes and accuse me of not wanting to be with you. "
He moved closer to me, looking at me like a piece of me, with an angry scowl on his face, his eyes cold.
"This just doesn't work. You won't learn. Fine. Time to make good on that promise. Let's use a little harder means. I can guarantee, baby, that this will be felt, and maybe then you will learn your lesson and not always attack my eyes with accusations and try to make me feel undue guilt. We both have gigs and jobs, and sure, I kissed you at the house. Sure, I talked to other women on the phone, but it was just talking, no action. I didn't jerk off or anything. I just talked, so you baby, you are very jealous for no reason, manipulative bitch, but now I won't let you talk anymore. Let's make this a real lesson."
Then he got the rib crusher, a brand new model. The rib crusher was adorned with green fabric in certain areas. Still in the process of healing, I winced as he slid it over my body, securing it against me. I could already feel the pressure of the spiked wheels pressing against my spine, causing discomfort. His gaze upon me was dehumanizing, his scent reminiscent of a wet dog.
He spoke in a demeaning tone, saying, "This, baby, is the latest model. Look. These spiked wheels are already on display. When those balls move, they'll set these wheels in motion too. It's a more intense version of punishment. Now, I'm going to disable your voice box for three days. Your silence will be your penance. Only then, if you can speak, will I consider stopping. But you must ask politely for me to cease. You must also ask for my help. I will teach you how to ask, so you may behave accordingly. As a good wife should."
He prepared the dental syringe, placing it within reach, then retrieved the Stabber from the other end of the room. Displaying it before me, I felt vulnerable and exposed as he secured it onto me, tightly pressing against my stomach and thighs.
As he repositioned it, his voice took on a clinical, detached tone. "And this Stabber, my dear, is another new model. You see, with these connectors, a mixture of metals, sedatives, and herbs will slowly infiltrate your body when these blades strike. Enjoy, my dear, for the next three days, these will be in use. We shall see what kind of wife you truly are, then."
Suddenly, a sharp sting pierced my throat as he paralyzed my vocal cords, and the torment began.
Damon flicked on the menacing machines, their deafening hum filling the room. Dread washed over me as I realized I wouldn't survive three days, and even if I did, I doubted I'd speak up. Panic surged through me as I contemplated my options in this hellish place. Would I be in any shape to understand and utter a word even?
Damon circled the table, his voice intertwining with the mechanical symphony. "Baby, isn't it delightful to feel your ribs crack, shattering into minuscule fragments? With this vest tightly bound around you, communication will become a distant dream. Your recovery will be an uphill battle. I'm eager to witness it. I could keep you here for weeks, but this is a lesson, a message I'm trying to convey. Of course, I wouldn't want you in a coma for a month, so I won't go all the way. Not as far as I desire."
His words continued, describing the crushing of my ribs and the excruciating pain caused by the vest tearing into my flesh and puncturing my lungs. He was truly enjoying himself. This was not a darling type or teacher. This was a wet dog.
"Babe, how do you feel? You've only endured the stabber for 21 hours, and already you're reduced to a shredded mess. Soon, I'll flip you over to tend to your back. You'll be infused with metals, herbs, and a cocktail of drugs, rendering you unable to comprehend your actions or even speak. And if you remain silent, I'll persist, checking daily to determine when you can utter a single word. If you refuse to comply, I'll continue until you can bear it no longer. At that point, it's clear that you either can't learn or simply don't want to. I'll either teach you properly or indulge in my pleasure. I don't always have the energy to educate those who refuse to learn."
His voice droned on, devoid of emotion or occasionally tinged with a sickening delight. He reveled in my suffering, relishing the fact that I was maimed or so heavily drugged that coherent speech eluded me. He reveled in proving my weakness compared to his own.
But he can strengthen me. What doesn't kill you but strengthen you? And how good it would be if I left Adam alone or didn't have sex at all. When it seems to melt my brain away. How I'm a little whore with a longing for cock if he doesn't keep me in line.
How I would choose another man over my husband and then how I wouldn't blow him or agree to let him have power over me, how I would have to ask permission to do the flea stuff or something, and if he weren't watching, then I would already be in a relationship with a Jarod.
" Baby, you are a whore, frankly, but we are married, and I am trying to mold you into a real woman. You can think about your own behavior and then think about why I don't want to spend time with you. I can't always be the one doing the start or being overly romantic, yes I have heard every fucking thought you had with Adam and how you enjoyed yourself, you're a weak whore with a longing for cock, but I'll make you better, it hurts, and it's painful. Still, when pain is the only way, you learn, and besides, you owe it to me. I need to enjoy, to see you in pain, weak, to see how I've beaten you, how you're nothing. "
Damon was out loud for the whole three days, and in the end, I didn't know which was worse. This constant pain and hurt or the fact that I had to listen to all his pouring out all the time, then he came up with more ways to hurt me.
"Come on, baby, let's put a little more power into the teaching; as I said, this is a crash course. Your ribs are crushed. I've now let the stabber take care of your front and back, so you're pretty mincemeat; you're not really healing that much anymore, so I can enjoy a little more. There are a lot of bones in the human body, and as you know, bones have a sense of pain. Still, then, when you think about where in the human body you have a great feeling, you've probably studied that in the arms and legs, so let's deal with them. They have nerves, bones, muscles, and tendons, and when I know you will not heal, it's going to be fun."
He got a big hammer and started hammering with it. Blow after blow, a sickening crunch was heard as he crushed my fingers so many times that they weren't healing anymore. He crushed my wedding ring into tissues of my fingers breaking it fully. First my fingers were crushed, when he saw that my ability to heal was fading, then my palms, wrists, toes, feet, ankles.
Hammer thrashed me, and Damon had this plastic apron on him; it was soon blood-shattered as he continued torturing me. I tried to scream, but my voice box was still paralyzed. I passed out from the pain from time to time, only to wake up in even more pain. And he used adrenaline to keep me awake, not let me be out cold, pain-free.
The pain racked me all over. I wasn't really breathing, my lungs were full of bone fragments, they had been torn so many times I didn't even think it was possible. The stabber was now back in my front. The pain was racking me so hard that I had to work to stay conscious.
I was mincemeat from my diaphragm down to halfway up my thighs when my ribcage was almost as narrow as my waist. He tightened the rib crusher every time it came loose and had already replaced it with another one. There were metal plates that now pressed my crushed ribcage completely together.
My fingers and my hands were all a bloody mass, and the pain exploded behind my eyes every time he moved them. At no point did he give me any medicine. He crushed my arms up to my elbows and my legs to my knees. Bone fragments ripped through my skin. I could smell my blood, my bones, my pain even.
He kept looking at me like a piece of meat and smelled like a wet dog. He was obviously in a rage and then took it out on me. He was talking all the time, saying creepy things about how he keeps doing this when I can't talk, and I'm not getting better.
I could see his pleasure so fucking clearly, and it disgusted me pretty fucking much. How can someone get pleasure from someone else's pain when they're supposed to love me? I was already so much of a vampire that now vampirism alone wasn't enough of an explanation.
But I was holding myself together with my rage. It was like he didn't remember all my rage at this point, but I didn't hold it so much that it showed on the outside. I didn't want him to notice this minor distraction and try to control my rage. It was the only thing that was helping me to endure this tremendous pain and agony that was racking every part of my body. I
f it wasn't for my rage, I would probably be insane from this pain by now. I thought, let it go. I'll get better.
When the three days were up, Damon turned off the equipment for a moment and said, "Well, can you ask, are you out of your mind? And remember to ask nicely."
I concentrated. I didn't have the lungs to breathe, but I somehow got the air to flow so I could get my voice out.
I just barely said, " Please, could you please just stop? I'm hurt, in pain, confused, and I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to offend you when I was with Adam. I was just being selfish and looking for a good time. If I could kindly ask you to help me just a little bit, just enough to get better, please."
I don't know if my voice was even real or if he was probing his telepathy for anything. I was just gathering my strength for that, and now I felt like I had run out of it right there. He stood up, like a world conqueror, and he took the stabber and rib crusher off me and tied some bandages around me.
He said, "I will do what you deserve, no more. Be thankful for this, too, and try to learn your lesson."
He put my legs and arms in vacuum splints and carried me to the car. Wrapped in many sheets as I was bloody and who knows what was oozing out of me, then we drove to the Oklahoma house. He carried me into one bedroom to the bed and left.
Saying, " Now you get well, and try to study your lessons."
Now, I could no longer respond. My rage, or the maintenance of it, was eating away at my resources, and I felt my strength weakening. This was not a great help. Now, I still can't make any plans to improve. I was a mess of drugs, metals, and pain and felt my consciousness fuzzy, but I couldn't fall asleep. Mirella was awake, but Mimosa wasn't. In my mind, she was completely intact, fully asleep, and fine, something I was grateful for.
Well, let's try to get some rest. It would help, maybe, if I could get some strength back, and then some place of my body would heal, and while Mirella was awake, maybe she could do something about the metals and poisons.
I was so fucking exhausted that now I couldn't think in any rational way. And I was more or less trapped in place. The vacuum splints had pushed my arms and legs into a vaguely painful position and they weren't even anatomically aligned.
Mirella said in my head, "Wait a minute, I'll help you heal and put you to sleep so you can rest. We have a pretty good supply of molecules. We got them from the sedative."
After a while, I felt pressure behind my eyes.
Mirella said, "Bite the substance on your own lip. "
I bit my lower lip and felt the pressure ease. My lip felt swollen, but the substance seemed to be absorbed quickly. I sank my fangs into my lip so that I could always get a good drain. I fell asleep with my lip still in my teeth.
Weekly Power Status
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