2. What A Feeling.

We arrived at the house, and before I even got the time to exit the car, Charles came, grabbed me by the arm, and started leading me toward Bran's office. He kept his grip tightly on my arms. Both of them. I didn't fight back, but let him lead me.

He said, his voice gravelly, angry, and dangerous still, "If it was up to me, honey, you wouldn't be going on any gigs alone. You'd be stuck with us all the time. That belt system, you see, but Bran wants to give you your independence, and that's why he gets to decide the consequences, to shut the fuck up and take what's coming. Don't worry, the three of us will be there, and I don't think there will be any gelling and symptoms now. I don't. When you suffer, and you become a victim, and the original lesson disappears, then let's see if Bran has developed a consequence that you fucking at least learn from."

We went into Bran's office, and Adam and Damon were already there, and the wet dog smelled. I knew that whatever was going to happen; I was the one who wouldn't fully recover after this and probably go to medbay, but that's what they all seemed to want. Fucking Salvatore for setting that trap for me. Well, maybe I'll learn something next time and not go along with the manipulations. I was pissed off and harsh. I was not so sure if Damien was just one part of Damon because this seemed so manipulated, twisted, pre-planned thing, and maybe my not-so-dear husband has a dark side. Not separate being. 

Charles was now holding my hands behind my back with one hand and the other holding me against him from my waist; I smelled the burning wood, a little smoky, acidic almost, and realized it was Charles' vampire side. Sometimes Damon smells when he's in a good mood and wants blood, so on the burning wood, real forest fire, wild and untamed, but then again on the ashtray, I didn't know what the smell of fire was in me when I got the bloodlust, but it seemed to be familiar to all vampires.

Adam said, "You'd think you'd start learning about teamwork and pack work, but no. When Mimi you hold that grudge between you and Sark as some sort of bilateral war between you, but you don't think we all have something to get back at Sark, you wouldn't have any privilege, but it would be a pack thing, and you don't seem to be willing to share your prey with the pack, well you need to learn the lesson of humility and that not everything goes the way you have planned."

Adam's face turned red with anger, his nostrils flaring. He wanted to shout at me, his voice ready to explode, but he clenched his fists, holding back his temper. Instead, he let Bran do the talking.

Bran's voice was laced with frustration and disappointment. "Little girl," he sneered, his eyes filled with disdain. "Look around. None of us are happy with how things turned out. You underestimated your victim, allowing Sark to stay awake. Now he's likely hidden away, plotting his revenge. You failed to render him harmless. Next time, your arrogance will be your downfall. But Adam is right, you need a lesson in humility."

Bran intertwined his fingers, a smug grin spreading across his face. His eyes locked onto mine, relishing the power he held over me.

"You are far too confident," he taunted. "And your rage management problem is a serious issue. Charles, Adam, and Damon have all told me about your explosive anger. It's time to take it seriously. The three of them will teach you a bitter lesson in humility. You'll be beaten in the gym day after day, losing repeatedly. Maybe then you'll start to realize that you're not the strongest being in the universe. The pack exists for a reason. Wolves hunt together. If only you had come to me with your plan, I would have supported you. But no, you had to go it alone. It's time to learn how to share, once and for all."

Bran took a deep breath, his smile thin and cruel. "Damon will escort you to the gym, where you'll begin your fights. Once your anger is drained, Adam and Charles will join in, a relentless onslaught. You'll spend your nights and every waking moment in a cage, enduring this punishment until you've learned your lesson. And when the lesson is over, Adam, Charles, and Damon will leave for their own pursuits. Let's see if the absence of immediate care makes the lesson sink in any better."

Satisfaction radiated from Bran's face as he imagined me broken and humiliated in the gym.

I thought, fine.

So these three will beat me up in the gym as long as Salvatore is happy, and then Mr. supposedly leaves for the gig, yes, and I'll be left alone, so I guess the way this goes is that Damon will take me to the shed when I am suitably prepped. Then they'll see how the gentleman manipulates another fucking shed session for himself. Charles let go of me as Damon stood up and took me in his grip and we went to the gym.

There, Damon pressed me against the wall, holding my wrists together, looked deep into my eyes, and said, " We're just going to fight, that's all. Everything's going to be fine. You're not going to say anything to Adam, Charles, or Bran, not to anyone you understand."

I felt his compulsion come over me and said, "I understand. Not to anyone."

Then he was satisfied, and I felt him stick some kind of gun or injector, straight into my heart, which had a needle in it. I felt the substance or whatever he was pouring into my heart spread all over my body in time with my heartbeat. 

He said, "Metals, again in a new, more absorbable form, and baby, there are many sorts of them, but not beryllium because I want to enjoy, oh I'm going to have a long enjoyment, but now baby, take your rage out and show me what you think of that trick."

As soon as he unleashed me, I attacked hard. I let my rage be right on display, and I knew that was the only way to survive this as long as possible. We started fighting, and I hadn't even registered, at which point I had three opponents, and none had any mercy or controlled their strength. All had rage on display, and I was the object of the unloading. I knew just how lethal Charles and Adam could be in fight clubs and now they were doing their very best to beat me and good, to kill me if I could be killed. No mercy at all. 

Damon was enjoying. He always took a back seat and let Charles and Adam beat and break me until my healing faded daily. Then he joined in, making sure that I was as broken as I could be, and used up all of my rage. We fought until I was no longer healing, and then even a little after that, the lesson of humility, best learned by lying on the gym floor and letting your three husbands kick and beat you to a pulp, I was broken. I had broken bones, internal bleeding, and organs damaged.

In Bran's study, Damon had very theatrically demonstrated how he blocked my replication enzyme and my hibernation for six months before we left. This would take time, and I wasn't at all sure how well I would heal by the next day. Charles kicked me in the side one last time, so I could hear my ribs breaking. I kept my rage on, so my pain would not take over fully. I needed to try to mend here. 

Then he and Adam went to shower, and Damon came to me, picked me up, and carried me to the basement, where there was a cage. He lowered me to the bottom of the cage, put me in the spiked restraints there, and started to jelly me up.

He said, "Rage control, baby, and my enjoyment of seeing you all doped up. You love to be jellied, don't you? Oh, this will be so good. Perfect long enjoyment session."

He opened up my bruised stomach, hung an 8-liter bag of that damn orange jelly, made an incision in the middle of my stomach, slipped a tube in, opened the jelly bag, and started massaging and spreading. The jelly began to be absorbed quickly because of the determined rubbing and manipulation.

After ten minutes, Damon let the jelly drain out but unchained me and said, "Now you are wonderfully helpless, and I will continue to jelly you and enhance the effect, baby look. There are so many hours in a day. This is a unique jelly. As you have noticed, there is regular sedation here, but also a muscle relaxant, so this will sink in well, and a hormone blocker. When this thing is over, your hormones will be so low you won't want to fuck with those two, either. Still, the hormone blockade is long-lasting and will last until comes. I'm not going to a gig; no, we're going to spend some quality time together again, and now my pleasure is unhindered."

He continued to massage and rub, feeling my pain, too. I tried to move, but I was too sedated already.

He continued to explain things to me, "My pleasure of having beaten myself, my good side, that is, once again. I don't need this from myself, but I'll take my pleasure with you all the way. Oh baby, Adam and Charles can weaken and take out your rage; they can hurt you too so that I can enjoy myself, and after that, I'm not going to stick around to fix you. I've learned that I need to find something to do after the shed session and away from you, so the need to fix doesn't come on nearly as strong."

He had finally got the whole eight liters of jelly inside me and rubbed my stomach so hard and so long that it wasn't even bulging. He sat beside the cage and watched me; I couldn't move. I was hurting and drugged. I was confused, trying to move, not getting back to my rage. Not at all.

Damon said, " Look, I don't actually know what metals are in that gun. It's another flea find. It's a shame Jake died, but some nice guys are out there, especially at European fleas. You can always go with them when you have a nice gig coming up. You can get so damn much stuff and drugs there. Those warehouses are so big that no one pays attention to me, and no one has to inventory everything immediately."

He just sat there wet dog stank as he had to talk all the time." Oh, baby, I'm waiting to see what kind of blocking system you come up with, and then one day, when I'm in a good mood, or my boring side is on display, and I need something from a flea warehouse, I can't get there because that's the way I've done it. It's nice to sabotage yourself. I suppose it's a form of self-control to stop yourself from doing everything you don't always want to do."

Damon would tap me occasionally, ensuring my bones were about right and that I was gelled up enough. So I could heal up for the next day.

Then he stood up and said, "Now baby, we have to go talk to Adam and Charles again and help their rage stay on. Oh, that I can tell them everything that could have happened, and believe me, tomorrow when we fight again, the boys will be so tuned up that this will be such a fucking perfect time. You won't believe it."

Then he left.

I was not in restrains anymore so I had my movement. There was a blanket in the cage that I managed to pull over me and a bottle of coke, but I wouldn't drink any of it until I recovered a little. I lay in the cage under the blanket, unable to think about anything other than how fucking helpless I was, how I couldn't stop anything from happening. That was not the feeling I wanted to feel at all. To be so utterly helpless. I was just thinking that when it becomes obvious that Bran's punishments serve no other purpose than his vendetta against me, there is no real reason for this. And never will be. 

Then, the jelly started to wear off when I could get up. The cage was big enough to move around in and stand on. My bones had healed, but for how many days? What condition would I be in if that one nutter took me to a shed, and then if he could do that to prevent his caring instinct, I'd be fucked? That pleasure had now been revealed, and Damon was starting to enjoy it more and more. Luckily, I hadn't been given any future prospects because, at the moment, they would have pissed me off too much when I knew they would happen.

I sat there, drank the bottle, and thought things over in my mind. Was there Damien? Could this be a whole different guy inside him, capable of manipulation, giving his feelings, and his memories to Damon? I had no idea but that would be one thing that I would try to study in somewhere, to find some book about this.

What if there was not, this was just part of Damon and this was the rest of my life, with this nutcase, but then again if he ever would divorce me, I would be so much wiser not to marry him, but would it stop him at all. How long these sessions would go, in how awful a shape he would get me. Just for the pleasure of it, there would not be love in that relationship, not for long, no one, no love can withstand that kind of twisted abuse and it very well may be that one day my love for Damon would be the latest victim of these shed sessions. 

I had no sense of time, but I could hear footsteps closing. A heavy door was opened and Damon stepped into the cellar.

The crazy one had returned and said, "Morning baby, are we ready for another day and another fight?" 

He approached the cage and said."You stay put. Not moving an inch."

Damn guy compelled me, so he grabbed me again and shot another bunch of metals into my heart. It was some kind of implant gun, except that shot always takes a moment to make sure all the shit was inside me and then to fight. And the same thing. Adam and Charles were all tuned up and spared no effort to speed up or brutality. No mercy and my rage was fully on. Of course, Damon told me how boys are all fixed up by him and Samuel so they can fight. He used on them his blood and they healed very well. Me not so fast.

After a session, I was always in a shit heap again, and they just coldly walked to the shower. Damon had kicked me in the neck several times, so I didn't make a sound. And no, the cage and jelly now had 10 liters, a couple more liters, because I had recovered so well the day before. But I was hoping that if he gelled all the time, I would at some fucking point develop a resistance to the fucking jelly. But no.

I was beaten for three weeks, then I didn't heal enough to fight, and my rage was pretty much gone. Adam and Charles looked at me emotionlessly, and then I realized that Damon had turned off the switch on them, too.

Oh, fuck, Damon took me into the cage and said, "We'll be off soon, baby. Just let me get you ready for a brief session first. The boys have some demanding gigs coming up; as you can see, they don't care. I put them in the right frame of mind, so to speak, but now I've jellied you up with a tranquilizer jelly with lots of my blood, so you're almost completely healed, but your strength is gone, you've lost weight, your rage is gone. I will get you physically fit enough for an excellent brisk treatment. And then I get to enjoy myself. "

He started to jelly me, now with dark red jelly, and I did begin to fall into a disgusting state of sedation again, but at the same time, I could feel how it was healing some of my injuries at least, and he was rubbing and feeling. I was drugged entirely because there had been a lot of sedatives and muscle relaxants involved. When he was satisfied that the jelly was full enough to cover everything in me, he squatted down and brushed my hair from my forehead again in a way that sent a chill down my spine.

He said, "Well, you'll heal with my blood, but when you are what you are, then one day, baby, my blood won't work, and oh, my good side will be in knots again, and I'll be in control again so much better you won't believe it."

I knew that my destiny was not gonna be any easier from that moment on. He was way too tuned up, almost more than I had seen in the shed so far like he had given in to something inside him, that this side was now fully unleashed, I tried to stay awake, not sure what my future brought to me, nothing good.