章 96: 16. What's In It For Me?
Mariella slowly regained consciousness, her eyelids fluttering open as she became aware of her surroundings. Confusion and restlessness washed over her as she tried to move, only to discover that her hands were tightly restrained. As her senses awakened, she felt an aching pressure in her breasts and a slight wetness between her legs. It was a sensation akin to being in heat, but not quite the same.
With trepidation, Mariella glanced to her side and saw a vampire sitting next to her. She was naked, bound to the bed, and his warm hand was brushing against her intimately. A gasp escaped her lips as his touch elicited a responsive reaction from her body.
"Oh darling, you're already so responsive," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Good morning and welcome back. It's time for your new life."
Mariella's eyes filled with defiance as she mustered the strength to speak.
"Let me go. I am not your toy," she demanded, her weak voice laced with determination.
The vampire simply smiled in response. "No, darling. You see, you're the center of attention here. Everyone has witnessed your preparation for me over the past five days. Your body has been flooded with my hormones, awakening your senses. You will be my mate, the mother of our cubs and babies, my wife. And you will learn to love me."
"You're a beast, incapable of feeling love. I will never love you," Mariella retorted, her gaze unwavering.
Damon, as the vampire introduced himself, looked at her with a mixture of amusement and desire. "We'll start with the physical, my dear. I will pleasure you relentlessly, impregnate you, and feed on your milk. Look at those luscious breasts already filled again. Your powers are seeping into the milk, giving me a boost. Don't worry, my love. Your body will soon crave this. I will transform you from an ice queen to a lust queen."
His hands expertly massaged her inner thighs, teasingly brushing against her most intimate areas. Mariella couldn't help but gasp and squirm under his touch, her pelvis lifting involuntarily. She was still under the influence of some drug, but the overpowering need and desire clouding her mind felt different from anything she had experienced before, even in her moments of heat.
As Damon spread her legs, Mariella found herself begging, pleading for more, her voice betraying her. "Please..."
The vampire locked eyes with her, a smirk playing on his lips. "Call me Damon, darling. I told you," he said.
Mariella sighed, her entire being consumed by the escalating need for pleasure. The fact that she was on display in front of everyone no longer mattered. The sensations, the insatiable craving, threatened to consume her entirely.
What was infuriating was that the damn vampire had not taken off his clothes and come to have sex with her. She needed some release, and soon.
"Oh, you have such good self-restraint, teasing me with your clothes on," she said to him.
Damon smiled and slowly inserted three fingers into her tight, yet accommodating, pussy. He quickened his pace, curling his fingers inside her. Her scent was intoxicating, a mixture of peach and alluring white wine. Her musk was truly unique. She began panting, her pussy starting to spasm as she reached climax, arching her back and screaming loudly. Damon looked at her, a satisfied smile on his face, then he stood up and left her in bed, gasping for breath. He walked away.
Number two approached him and asked, "How is your little taming project going?"
Damon glanced at him and replied, "I just gave that woman the climax of her life, and I only needed one hand."
Number two grunted. Damon looked back and instructed, "You may go and nurse from her, but only nurse, no climaxes. This is part of her training, to understand that she has no say. She is my property."
Number two nodded. The idea of a warm milk meal with some power was not sounding too bad.
I woke up on a cold steel table, tightly restrained with cuffs. The air was filled with the scent of drugs and antiseptics, indicating that I was in a medical facility. I resisted the urge to open my eyes immediately, trying to gather my senses and assess if I could change shape or escape. Despite being heavily drugged, I knew I had faced worse situations before.
"I am a telepath, so you might as well open your eyes. I know you're awake. It's good to hear your plans of escaping," a voice said.
Fuck, I was getting fed up with telepaths. I was never too patient, and I felt my frustration building up. I finally opened my eyes to find myself surrounded by white walls, harsh lights, and shelves filled with medical instruments and drugs. There was a small table next to me, a bigger table with computers, and where a figure was studying something on a computer. On that small table, I noticed several jars with labeled samples, and I couldn't help but think that they had come from me.
He fixed his gaze on me, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he spoke. "Yes, these medical interventions are for you. You're quite fascinating, a whole new species, similar to me, but not quite. You have several medical issues, which is why I've put you on IV feeding and a sugar drip. Your pancreas isn't healthy, and you've received a caffeine infusion directly into your stomach. Your hormones are slightly elevated, but I can boost them even more. My little concoctions keep your willpower off balance, preventing you from harming yourself further."
Defiantly, I retorted, "My body, my choice. You're not my doctor."
He looked at me, his voice dripping with condescension, "Right now, darling, I am your doctor. You may not like being here, but we do provide help. It's not forced, not entirely."
Silently, I refused to engage. He could try to convince himself that he was doing me a favor, but it wouldn't work on me. I remained calm, despite the discomfort of being both exposed and in this unfamiliar place. With my unique metabolism, no amount of IV feeding would be of any use. He would have to learn that for himself.
He glanced at me, letting out a sigh. "I've slowed down your metabolism. That high-caloric feed in your vein has actually caused you to gain a kilo of weight, so it's not all bad. I am a doctor, and I know what I'm doing. You're unique, but I can quickly adapt and make progress."
Damn, this man was insufferably arrogant. My thoughts towards him were far from friendly, causing him to stand up and approach the drip stand. He adjusted something, and soon enough, fatigue washed over me.
I fought to stay awake, but he looked at me and uttered, "Consider it a lesson. Actions have consequences, especially when you're near telepaths. They may not have the patience to listen if you try to fuck at them with their minds. Now, have a nap."
Oh, how infuriating he could be. My mind became foggy, and sleep overtook me. The last words I heard were him muttering, "About time. She can be a bitch."
Number one was exhausted. The whole damn thing about everyone getting hot and bothered. Breeding bulls were hard at work, their heavy breaths filling the air, ensuring they were suitable for the task at hand. It had cost him another mate, but he still had Mariella. She was very receptive, her body eagerly responding to his teasing. He had only used his fingers so far, not yet taking her fully. It had been five days of anticipation.
The doctor had been preoccupied with some subject, but that was fine. There was nothing urgent at this moment. Damon had recently bred his other two, Mimosa and Shadow, for the first time. It would take several more attempts, but they had been more than willing. He had even allowed others to have fun with them, whether it was another version of himself or his bodyguards, Adam and Charles. His sons were part of the breeders, but they had the freedom to choose who they wanted to breed.
They had found a vampire woman, tall and blonde with a desirable body. However, his boys tended to be rough, so she had to be restrained. The boys didn't care if she enjoyed it; they were focused on efficiently getting her pregnant. And she had already conceived. But the boys liked to fill her up repeatedly, ensuring she would have babies for a long time. Well, she was more or less immortal, so time was on her side.
He was an ancient creature, a vampire lord. Power and influence over others were his currency. But that didn't mean he didn't long for companionship, someone to be with. Despite his cruel exterior and dangerous allure, his penchant for killing his meals, he yearned for someone to talk to, share, and have fun with. There had been times when he was much more relaxed.
But when life only gave him vinegar, he hardened. Power and death became his tools. His darkness and his need to kill were constant companions. He remembered the pleasure that came when he plunged his hand into someone's insides, pulling out loops of intestines, slowly killing them. He had even tried to charm his victims, knowing he would eventually end their lives. He wanted to make it as painless as possible unless the individual didn't deserve such mercy.
He was a powerful wizard, his presence emanating an aura of raw energy. He had dedicated himself to goodness, striving to help and heal, but his efforts seemed futile. Life had dealt him a harsh hand, leaving him with no choice but to unleash his wrath upon his enemies. Once, he had loved deeply, his heart intertwined with hers. But when her betrayal surfaced, he had been the one to end her life with his own hands. No regrets.
Centuries ago, he stumbled upon an ancient ritual that granted him clones - reflections of his past self. These clones, once a single entity, had diverged and become ten distinct individuals. Each had taken their own path, shaping them into who they were. The fourth clone, known as Doc, remained steadfast in his commitment to healing and aiding others. However, he possessed the ability to inflict destruction and torment when necessary. The second clone, Damon's second in command, embraced his cruel nature, mirroring his own. The third clone exuded a calm demeanor, using patience and cunning to his advantage. Together, with others too, they formed a hive, with the wizard as their leader, a king without his queen or queens.
His anger burned deep within him, fueled by the escape of a woman, a creature he had underestimated. But there were many women, and Mariella showed great promise. Her robust body could withstand his passionate desires, her blood abundant and replenishable. She was the perfect meal, though he would need to condition her to his liking. He would tap into his shifter side, their union resulting in breeding. Helpless, her belly would swell with his seed, as he impregnated her repeatedly, week after week. Medicines, combined with his pheromones, would keep her addicted and under his control. It was a perfect life, an ideal existence for him.
In time, she would succumb to her love for him, and they would become a family, birthing many vampire babies. Perhaps then, he could feel something once more, breaking free from the numbness that consumed him.
Number four had diligently studied his subject for a week now, finding her presence extremely infuriating. The sound of her voice grated on his ears as she shared her elaborate escape plan in her mind. What had initially been amusing had turned sour, as her vivid descriptions only added to his frustration. Her thoughts were not suitable for a lady.
She had the most versatile array of curse words and descriptions of graphic nature. He was aware that number one was collaborating with multiple women, yet there was one who had captured his attention. Perhaps he could continue studying her in the future, uncertain of what he might uncover.
Having been a doctor for most of his existence, the instinct to help and heal still coursed through his veins. However, he possessed a ruthless nature, unafraid to administer treatment without permission, or make the process easy for his patients. Sometimes, the cure was worse than the disease, but he still provided healing. As a wizard and vampire, he had no qualms about taking a life to sustain himself. Being a telepath, he carefully selected his victims, ensuring they were deserving of their fate. The thrill of sending them into a state of terror and fear before their demise brought him perverse satisfaction.
Of course, he had engaged with women throughout his lifetime, but it was never his world. Perhaps one day, he would encounter someone who would challenge him in every way. Someone who would love him unconditionally, accepting his dark nature. Someone who would willingly give him their soul, as he would give his in return.
Number ten let out a sigh, pulling up his jeans and swiftly zipping them. He coldly glanced at the black-haired black witch lying on her back, legs still spread, her pussy swollen and used like whore's before him, whom he had just impregnated once again. The sound of her childish voice grated on his senses, but her utter disgust when he had filled her now fertile womb with his seed, ensuring the spell held everything in, brought him a sense of twisted victory. He excelled at what he did, finding pleasure in the act of sex and relishing the conquest of impregnating women, especially those who did not desire it.
Black witches like this thing, being supernatural beings, their pregnancies would be shorter, draining their magic until they became mere humans. There would be no turning back for them, forever stripped of their witch abilities. They would become mortals, and who knows, perhaps his future meals.
As they had done many times before, they confronted the black witches using a tried-and-true method. Their goal was to render them powerless and ensure their permanent demise. The strategy involved impregnating the witches, forcing them to bear children as long as they possessed magic. Then, they had two options: either allow them to live out their lives as mere mortals and end their existence by draining their blood or continuing the cycle of childbirth until their demise. Either way, the witches would meet their ultimate fate. A series of spells purified the malevolence within their magic, channeling it into the babies and imbuing them with incredible strength. It was the perfect solution.
Meanwhile, Number Ten approached the entrance of Doc's lab. The air was filled with a distinct laboratory scent, a mix of antiseptic and chemicals. The sound of his whistling "Waiting for the Start to Fall" echoed through the hallways, creating a cheerful yet eerie atmosphere. Number ten found a strange fascination in Doc's experiments, even though they often took a twisted turn. But there was an undeniable curiosity in observing them. With each step, anticipation grew as he made his way towards the medical lab.
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