Chapter 24
Dr. Ambrose
In my absence, the freak grows restless. With each passing day, the amount she talks to herself increases. Isolation will do that to a person, especially when the lack of contact is a consequence of their actions. The guilt becomes suffocating.
It is important to completely deprive her of human communication so she begins to relinquish her idea of the self.
It will also force her to completely rely on me.
On the third day of isolation, I watch the surveillance footage as Oliver inserts the funnel between the cage bars. Before it can enter her mouth, the freak turns her head. The plastic neck jabs her cheek.
Please, she shouts. Tell the doctor— She stops momentarily, clenching her teeth, then tries again. Tell Daddy to come back. I’ve learned my lesson. I’m his freak!
Oliver remains stoic and adjusts the funnel. He is under strict instructions to ignore her, and of course, he is completely obedient to me. In his mind, she’s nothing more than a lab rat to feed.
The funnel rests on her turned cheek. Oliver raises the pitcher. The freak grunts.
Listen, damn it! she yells. Please! Tell him—
The nutritional shake slops through the funnel, dripping off of her face and onto the floor. The freak frantically angles so some of it gets in her mouth. She must understand this is the only chance to be fed.
Oliver hits the end of the pitcher; the last gloop plops into the funnel. The freak swallows it down, and Oliver leaves.
Damn it! the freak wails.
I chuckle to myself. She knows it’s pointless, and yet she is so desperate that she’s willing to try anything, even begging Oliver.
I adjust my cock in my pants. While I understand this distance is an important part of the process, my hunger for her grows each day.
Finally, after a full week has passed, I return to the freak’s room. I place a rolling stool next to her cage, then sit down and look at her: a doctor ready to examine his patient’s progress.
Violet’s dark eyes swell with relieved tears, and her lips spread into a smile. She swallows repeatedly. I’ll have to add more hydration to her daily maintenance.
“Are you ready to try again, my love?” I ask.
She bobs her head vigorously. “Yes, Daddy.”
Warmth tickles my groin, and my jaw ticks with lust. “Good.”
I open the crib cage. Her lips part, her tongue flicking across the bottom lip, and the subtle scent of her arousal wafts through the air. I haven’t even touched her cunt, and the bitch is already wet for me.
“You want my cock, don’t you?” I say. “You want me inside of you, filling up your nasty twat.”
“Yes, Daddy. Please. Touch me.”
“I won’t fuck your pussy. Not until you’ve proven you’re a good girl for me,” I say. “Now, say you’re a freak and make me believe it. Do not cum until I give you permission.”
I insert two fingers, curling toward her tender spot. Her sopping velvet walls cinch around me, and the freak squirms, her muscles contracting.
With my other hand, I massage her clit. She bites her bottom lip, already stifling her moans.
“I’m a freak,” she cries.
The words are beautiful, like a sad song from a dove.
But I want her anguish.
I pinch her bundle of nerves. “Do you know how hard you make me?” She whimpers, and I scrape my fingernails across her clit. She twitches. I click my teeth. “Are you truly that desperate, you’ll do anything to fuck me?”
“I’m a freak,” she murmurs. Her body climbs toward arousal’s edge. “I’m your freak.”
That small change from a freak to my freak splices through me.
“Then tell me, sweet one,” I whisper. “If you are my freak, what is your true title?”
“My title—” she stammers, so close to that release.
“Say it for me,” I encourage. “Embrace your true self. What is the full title I gave you?”
Thoughts swirl behind her frantic pupils. I raise a brow. She could flip us in any direction right now: disobedience, submission, or even apathy.
With two fingers still inside of her, I lift my other hand from her clit and stroke my cock through my trousers.
Impatience bubbles in my chest. “Say your title now!”
She shouts: “My name is Violet Ward!”
My palm stops over the head of my cock. Her teeth snap, and panic flickers in her eyes. She’s not sure whether she made the right decision to defend her old self. Her panting fills the space between us.
A long sigh pushes out of me.
Her first night here, I thought she would be easy to mold. Now, I know I must train her for a longer time than expected then, which means more conscious fun with my favorite doll.
I remove my fingers from her cunt, stand, then shake my head, tutting under my breath.
“You were so close,” I say. “It’s not difficult to remember: you are my disgusting little freak.”
Sobs possess her frame. “Daddy, wait—”
I leave.
For another week, I wait. This time, once I’m sure she’s deep in a REM cycle, I open the top of the crib cage and stand at her bedside.
I push a strand of hair off of her forehead. Her closed eyelids flicker, and her nostrils flare. She’s completely vulnerable, and she has no idea I’m within arm’s reach.
Power floods my veins.
The week after that, I begin a new nightly routine. I open the cage lid and plunge a syringe full of a sedative into her neck. Those rapid eye movements stop.
I check her pulse through the bars of the crib cage; her heart is steady, but her mind is gone.
I remove my cock from my trousers and rub the tip against her puckered lips. Pain shoots down my spine, causing a full-body shudder. The head of my cock is sore and raw from my incessant picking at the infected wound.
But I’ve been waiting so long to use her again.
I angle my hips forward, pushing my length down her throat.
She gags slightly; the sedation is too strong for her to do much else.
Her warm flesh and sharp teeth encase my cock; a satisfied grin stretches across my lips.
This is a preview of our future together when she transforms into my human doll.
“You feel so good right now,” I moan. “And you’ll feel even better once I change you completely.”
Cum spurts down her throat; she chokes; her esophagus squeezes me.
I exhale deeply, then remove my length from her mouth.
I likely bruised the back of her throat, but the dumb cunt will never know I was inside of her.
She’ll continue her isolated punishment, and I’ll keep fucking the unconscious slut’s throat every night until she learns her lesson the hard way, until she learns how to truly please me by accepting her new role as my freak.
I stand in the doorway. In the locked crib cage, her chest rises and falls. Even while I supposedly “teach” her how to please me, the truth is the freak does please me.
She has no idea how much I enjoy doing this to her.