Chapter 11 Chapter Eleven

Sadist quietly returned to his room, adjusted the temperature controller, and put the medicine on the table.He walked to the bed and leaned against the wall, hiding himself in the shadows.He looked down at Bella, watching the slight undulation under the sheet, showing her steady breathing, and he seemed to lose his sense of time.He felt that the minutes and seconds gradually gathered into hours, and the time passed slowly, but he couldn't leave her side for even half a step. By candlelight, he watched her skin heal.The abrasions on the face became blurred, the puffiness around the eyes subsided, and the wounds disappeared, like a miracle.Thanks to the deep sleep, her body got rid of the damage and reappeared her beauty.He was extremely emotional that in the high-end small circle she was in, everyone avoided imperfect women.Nobles are so virtuous.

He thought of the flawless handsome face of his twin brother.He knew that Ferry should be the one who took care of her.Ferry is the perfect man to play the savior, and it's clear he's interested in Bella.Plus, Bella would definitely wish to wake up with such a man by her side, as every woman would expect. So why didn't he just take her to Ferry's bed now? But he couldn't move, he could only look down at her, watching her leaning on the pillow he had never used, lying under the sheet he had never covered.Sardist recalls the past... It had been several months since Sadist was locked up.By this time, he had been through all the horrible things.

The mistress is quite content with her private possessions and considers it necessary to present them to the man she desires.Often she would lead the strangers to the dungeon, pull the slaves out, and show off like a champ.He knew she was doing it to make the others feel their position was at stake, because he saw the pleasure in the mistress' eyes when the other men were downcast. Whenever the inevitable violence begins, the slave will try to separate himself from the skin of bone and flesh as much as possible.He was high up like a cloud, floating in the air until he touched the ceiling, and then all the ordeals became easier to bear.If he's lucky, he'll be able to transform himself completely, just by floating, watching them from above, being a spectator while others humiliate him, inflict pain on him, demean him.However, such a trick does not work every time, and sometimes he cannot escape and can only be forced to bear it.

The mistress always used ointment on him, and later he noticed something strange.Although sometimes trapped in the body, all the encounters are clearly presented in front of the eyes, and the sound and smell go straight into the head like a mouse digging a hole, but the crotch part is another feeling that has been replaced.It was just a distant echo, like that part had been removed from the body.Although he felt strange, he was still very grateful.For him, any form of numbness is a good thing. When alone, he would work hard to learn to control the transformed muscles and skeleton.He even successfully attacked those guards a few times, and he has no remorse for the violence he inflicted on others.Sure enough, he no longer felt like he knew the men who watched over him and felt ashamed of him.To him, their faces were like characters in a dream, unreal, indistinct, remnants of a life he had twisted and twisted.

Every time he resists, he will eventually be knocked down, and then he will be beaten for several hours - although the beaten parts are only the palms and soles of the feet, because the hostess likes to see him who is pleasing to the eye.As a consequence of being deemed aggressive, there is now a whole squad of fighters who take turns guarding him.When entering the dungeon where he was held, all men consciously wear chain mail.Not only that, but the bed frame was also equipped with iron rings, which could be operated from the outside and popped out to hoop him.When he was blessed by the hostess, the guards didn't have to risk their lives to untie him.Whenever the hostess tried to have sex with him, he was rendered powerless by the hypnotics in his food or on the tip of an arrow.

The days passed extremely slowly.He concentrated on finding the weak spot in the guards, while trying to find ways to escape from his corruption.With all the plans and expectations dying one by one, dead from the inside out, there was no breath of real life in him. The slave sat eating in the dungeon, trying to conserve his strength until the next time the guards opened the door.He saw the flap on the door lift and an empty pipe protruding in, and he jumped up hastily, with nowhere to hide, and felt a pain in his neck.He pulled out the dart quickly, but the next dart after dart hit him.His body was getting heavier and heavier.

He woke up in bed to find himself in chains.The mistress sat beside him.She lowered her head, her hair disheveled, covering most of her face.As if knowing that he had woken up, the hostess' eyes turned to him. "I have a partner." Oh, the Holy Maiden of the Void... These were the words he was most looking forward to hearing.From now on he is free.If she had Helen, she would no longer need to raise blood slaves.That way, he can go back to the kitchen and do his work. The slave forced himself to look at her with respect, even though he knew that such a woman did not deserve respect: "Mistress, will you let me go?"

All he got in response was silence. "Please let me go," he stammered, setting aside his pride to seek a chance at freedom considering what he had been through, "I beg you, mistress, release me from this confinement Bar." When she looked at him, there were tears in her eyes: "I found that I can't...I want to keep you, I must keep you." He began to struggle, and the harder he struggled, the more love covered her face. "Why? Why don't you want me?" Seeing that he remained silent, she pulled his masculine symbol hard, "I'm beautiful."

"For the others." He confided before closing his mouth. Her breathing stopped instantly, as if he had stuck her throat with a pair of invisible hands.Her eyes wandered over him, from his lower abdomen to his chest, and then to his face.Although there were still tears, they were filled with rage. The hostess stood up from the bed, looked down upon him, and glared at him.She slapped so hard that she must have hurt her palm.He spat out the blood in his mouth, and he didn't know if he also spat out the loose teeth. Her gaze seemed to swallow him alive.He thought that the hostess would definitely kill him, but his heart became calm. At least, the days of suffering like this could pass.Death... death would be an honorable thing too.

But she smiled at him suddenly, as if she had guessed his thoughts; as if she had penetrated into his heart and pulled out those thoughts; as if she had stolen these thoughts, just like stealing his body. "No, I will not send you into the void." She leaned down, kissed one of his nipples, and took it into her mouth.Her hands wandered over his ribs, then moved to his stomach.Her tongue moved nimbly, and she leaned against her body: "You are emaciated and need to eat blood, aren't you?" In her own way, kissing and sucking, all the way down.It happened with lightning speed: she rode on top of him, and their bodies were horribly joined.

He closed his eyes, trying to turn his head away.She slapped him... a second... many more.But he still refused to look at her, and she didn't have enough strength to straighten his face, even if she grabbed one ear, it didn't work. Finding him refusing to look at her, her whimpers grew louder, but the swaying of her waist didn't stop.After finishing, she put on a silk skirt, turned around and left.Not long after, all the chains on him were removed. He turned over from the bed, still shaking a little due to the effect of the anesthesia, unable to stand firmly.He found the corner where he always stayed, sat cross-legged on the ground, leaning his back against the seam of the two walls, his legs pressed together tightly against his chest, and his heels just touched his masculine symbol. After a while, he heard arguing outside the cell door, and then the guards pushed a petite woman in.She stumbled in and rushed in, then turned and pressed against the door, but the door was locked from the outside. "Why?" she exclaimed angrily. "Why punish me?" The slave stood up too, looking bewildered.Since awakening during the transformation period, he has never seen any woman other than the mistress.This woman is a maid, or something else.He remembered her before... The woman's smell instantly aroused his hunger for blood.Having endured the mistress's doing whatever he wanted, it was naturally impossible for him to treat her as someone who could suck blood.But this petite female vampire was different. He suddenly became extremely horny, and his body's needs kept pounding in the duet of howling and demanding.He staggered and walked towards the maid, his mind was blank and he just followed his instinct. The woman knocks on the cell door, then suddenly realizes she's not alone.She turned and screamed when she realized who she was locked with. The slave was almost overwhelmed by his bloodlust, but he forced himself to stay away from her, to stay in the corner where he was.He squatted naked on the ground, crossed his arms, trying to control his body from trembling, and dared not move.He faced the wall, trying to catch his breath... the moment he realized that he was about to become a beast, he wanted to cry. After a while, the woman stopped screaming.After waiting a little longer, she finally said, "Is that really you? The kid in the kitchen. The one who moved the ale? Isn't it?" He nodded, not daring to look at her. "I heard rumors that you were brought here, but I... other people said that you died during the transformation, and I believed it." After a pause, she continued, "You are so tall, like The figure of a warrior. How could this be?" He didn't know either.Because there is no mirror in the cell, he doesn't even know what he looks like. The woman approached cautiously.He looked up, and her eyes fell on the ring-shaped slave tattoo. "Seriously, why did you come here?" She muttered, "They say...the men who live here will encounter very bad things." He didn't say anything, so she sat down beside him and stroked his arm tenderly.For such contact, he flinched back at first, only to find that his emotions had stabilized a lot later. "I'm here to give you blood, right? That's why I was brought here." After a while, she took her hand from his knee and put her wrist in his, "You have to eat .” He started to sob, sobbing over her generosity and kindness, and the feeling of her soft palm rubbing her shoulders...it seemed like the only touch he'd ever accepted in his life...maybe in the future. In the end, she almost pressed her wrist to his mouth.His fangs were growing and his body was hungry for her blood, but he did nothing but kiss her and say no.How could he have the heart to do to her what others often do to him?She is indeed giving, but also forced.She, like him, is only a prisoner of the mistress. The guard then came in and seemed taken aback to see her holding him, but didn't attack her violently.When she left, she still looked at the slave with a concerned look on her face. Only a moment later, many more darts were shot at him, so many that it was as if they were going to shoot him into the grave.He passed out, almost falling into the border of annihilation, the thoughts in his mind were illusory and untouchable, only the aggressive instinct existed, as if it foreshadowed the coming ominous omen. When he woke up, the mistress was standing by his side.She was holding something in her hand, but he couldn't see it clearly. "You feel too good about yourself, don't you think the gift I gave you is not worthy of you?" The door opened and the limp body of the young female vampire was dragged in.The guard let go, and she fell to the floor like a rag bag, long dead. The slave began to roar furiously, and the roar reflected back and forth on the stone walls of the dungeon, amplifying it into a deafening thunder.He twisted his arm vigorously, the iron ring was deeply embedded in the flesh, and the scar was deep enough to show the bone.The chain link on one side made a twisting sound, and couldn't even break it... He was still roaring. The guards backed away, and even the mistress was shaken by the rage he had unleashed.However, as usual, she quickly took over. "Leave the two of us alone," she yelled at the guard. She waited until the slave was exhausted.She looked down at him, pale. "Your eyes." She stared at him and exclaimed in a low voice, "Your eyes..." She was a little scared, but she still used that noble arrogance to cover herself. "The women I gave you as gifts, you have to suck them." She glanced at the lifeless corpse of the maid, "You better not let them please you, or I will do it again. You are mine , not someone else's." "I won't drink." He yelled back at her, "Never!" She took a step back and replied, "Don't be unreasonable, slave." He showed his fangs and let out a "hiss" sound: "You can look down on me, master. You can watch me slump and die." He snapped out the last few words, and the "rumble" sound was full the whole house.The attitude of the hostess was also hardened by anger.The door swung open, and the guard rushed in, brandishing a sword. "Leave the two of us alone!" the hostess yelled back at the guard, her face flushed and her body trembling with anger. She raised her hand, and the whip swung down, landing on the slave's chest.His skin was torn apart and blood spattered, he sneered at her endlessly. "Come again." He yelled, "Come again, I don't even feel it, you are too thin." It was as if a certain dam had burst in the body, and the vicious words against the mistress began to spew out incessantly.He cursed at her loudly, and her whip kept falling until the bed frame overflowed with the liquid that used to flow in his veins, until she was panting and sweating, covered with his blood, and could no longer lift her arm .He was unmoved, only had a cold breath, and remained calm under the pain.Although he was the one who was tortured, it was the hostess who collapsed first. She bowed her noble head and breathed rapidly through her pale lips, as if resigned. "Guard!" She said hoarsely, "Guard!" The male vampire in uniform opened the door, saw the scene in front of him, and walked down the stairs timidly.The soldier's face was pale, and his feet were empty. "Help his head." The hostess's voice was sharp, and she dropped the whip, "I said, now, hold his head for me." The guard stumbled over the slippery floor.Next, the slave felt a fleshy hand on his forehead. The hostess almost threw herself on the slave, panting heavily: "You...don't...die." She bit her own wrist and stuffed it into the slave's open mouth, blood gushing in. Sadist turned back to the bed, unwilling to be around Bella thinking of the mistress... as if that demon would escape his mind and endanger Bella, who was sleeping and healing herself. He walked to the floor and noticed that his body was unusually tired, in fact, tired. He fell asleep on the floor and stretched, his injured leg throbbing. God, he forgot he was shot too.He took off his riding boots and trousers, and lit a candle beside him with his thoughts.He curled up his legs, inspecting the joints for damage.The bullet holes in and out were there, so he knew the bullet had passed through the muscle and the wound was bearable. He blew out the candle and lay down again.Allow yourself to accept the pain in your body, as if you have become a container for accumulating pain, experiencing every nuance between pain and tingling... He heard a strange voice, like a soft call, repeated over and over again.Bella then began to writhe on the bed, the sheets rustling as she turned. He jumped up from the ground and ran to Bella's side.Her head was turned to face him, and her eyes slowly opened. She blinked, saw his face...and screamed.