Chapter 496: Shrunken Heads

The doctor laughed and told me to provide her with the data if I ever found out.

“Going back to our previous discussion about you being a bully, David, or worse having a personality disorder,” the shrink told me. “It is difficult for me to determine if these Elites, as you call them, exist in reality or are a fantasy in your mind. Either way, there are many ways in which you can address matters that don’t require the violent methods and techniques you’ve used because you have them at your disposal.”

The doc is correct but also wrong. How to get them on the same page to help me work through things to help me decide if I am a Jekyll and Hyde?

I used my implant to check the complex’s medical records and picked out residents from elite families. I listed their names. They are the doctor’s patients.

“If you didn’t know already, these children come from one of the elite families. It isn’t my place to ask why the family doesn’t have anyone to take them in. Some may choose here over what they would find if they did return to their family or an extended part of it,” I told the shrink. “I don’t want to know anything about what you talked to them about, as this is private and would violate their trust in you, which is hard to come by with these kids. I ask that you take a few minutes to review their records to see if I am making up these elite families or not.”

The doctor agreed to take a few minutes to review her notes and would return shortly.

You don’t know that I already know what these kids went through and why they are delighted to live here out of their family’s reach.

When she returned, I could see the look of horror on her face.

She took a few seconds to collect her thoughts and said, “You’ve done it again, David. You helped residents here without trying to do so actively. Many of my patients here come from physically and sexually abusive homes. Some exaggerate the abuse when it appears that doing so will further prevent their abuser from getting a chance to abuse them again. It is something I’ve learned to expect. While I don’t discount what they say, I can’t believe it all at face value, either. I reviewed the list of patients you provided. If anything, they have only described the types of abuse, not the frequency or those who abused them. As I did in our discussion, I discounted what they told me about their families as a fantasy versus fact. What they described has too many similarities to dismiss after speaking to you.”

“Since you are in on the secret of the elites, but I can tell that you don’t believe it, let me show you some videos that might clarify some things,” I told her.

My implant ferreted out videos for each of the patients I had listed.

The first was a tame introduction. It showed one of the girls refusing to use a meat tenderizer to smash the balls of a small boy who pissed off someone in the girl’s family. She caved when began violently raping her younger sibling’s asses.

“FUCKING HELL!” the doctor screamed as the little boy screamed as his tiny nuts got smashed to a pulp.

“But wait, there’s more!” I told her.

The kids who got raped jumped the older girl and beat her for not doing as told. The boys raped her ass, but not pussy. It wasn’t because those nasty men raped them. No, it was because the men weren’t mean or nasty enough, not to mention the boys having to fake being in pain. Their dads, uncles, and men their dad knew did it right. These men were pansies too afraid to damage the kids because that was a death sentence for the rapist.

If that was not enough abuse, one of the kids got the boy whose balls she had smashed. They held his destroyed nutsack over the mouth of the girl who refused to smash his balls as the last of his blood spurted out. It went into her mouth, up her nose, in her hair, and all over her face. When the boy was dead, they kept him there as any piss and shit left in his body drained out onto her face.

“That is insane! Those children are psychotic,” the doctor said.

I let the doctor cry into my chest and then told her, when she calmed down, “Oh, no. They are typical for kids in these families. Psychopaths and sociopaths in their families are much more creative. I guess the boy was either a servant, some form of a slave, or a local kid who pissed someone off in the family concerning the girl made to smash his balls. Except for me, anyone not from an elite family is considered a commoner and made to serve the family’s bidding as they choose. Sadly, this video is tame.”

I showed her ones that gave a much better view of the abuses her patients from elite families faced regularly. None were from the abusee failing to do something or messing up on a task. I showed her those at the end.

“I’ve stayed with some of these families from time to time. Half of the people in those families aren’t nasty fuckers like you saw in the videos. Each member of the family has a place in the family business. Those dumb as a fence post the put do jobs as cannon fodder. Ones with a few brain cells, these families used to be the ‘boss’ that gets caught, and the police act like they got Capone or some drug kingpin. The kids you see in the videos are the ones they send out to get their message across to commoners about anything perceived as not going how the family wants. The psychos and sociopaths frequently handle coming up with how the family wants to send that message,” I told her.

She was horrified but ventured to ask how things could be worse than she saw in the videos.

“Oh, let me think,” I told her.

One of the kids I knew was from one of the families walked into the office. She has at least one psychotic sister.

“David has only seen the sugar on top,” the girl said. “My sister, who was only seven at the time, was fond of fire and acid. Dad sent her to devise a way to punish an uncle who decided his pockets were a better place for the family’s money. There is a globally accepted rule in elite families that you don’t mess with the family business. It didn’t matter that my uncle was my dad’s twin brother. My little sister had my aunt and cousins all rounded up. She put my uncle in the center of a room with them around him. He got two deadman’s switches. All he had to do to save himself was for him to decide if his wife, children, and grandchildren would die by fire or acid. My sister had injected something in my aunt and cousins that kept them from passing out from the pain. My uncle had a large tube shoved into his dick and a larger one up his ass before being put on his death throne. I have no idea what sort of bugs my little sister put inside him, only that they loved brain matter. They were too big to use the blood vessels, so they slowly ate their way up. It can take days to weeks. She contacted another in the family who is an expert at keeping people alive and awake until the bugs ate enough of the person’s brains for them to be unable to stay alive. What made the family fear my sister’s inventive ways of disposing of people was that it didn’t matter if he chose fire or acid. My little sister’s concoction liquified whatever was in the area where injected. The reaction was exothermic and slowly ate through the skin. Once it reached the air, it combusted with such heat it vaporized what it liquified. The bones, and somehow nerves, weren’t affected. Because of the speed of the reaction, it cauterized all the blood vessels. She took great pleasure in removing part of a thigh or arm so it would slowly rot away as the person felt the pain.”

The doctor blankly stared as she asked, “Your sister was seven and did this? That is many times worse than our greatest serial killers. How can anyone be allowed to get this way and not be killed outright?”

“Because that is what elite families need to ensure that people don’t ever try to fuck with them. My little sister loved that aunt and those cousins more than anyone else in the family. That was her being nice to them. She got her period when she was ten and found she liked sex more than her hobby. Of all the ways she worked to ensure she left this life in spectacular death, she died at eleven in childbirth. Her hips weren’t wide enough to deliver the baby vaginally. My family doesn’t permit a baby to come into this world any other way. I will give it to her, though. She found a scalpel somewhere and proceeded to cut herself open to get her baby out. Sadly, she cut the umbilical cord trying to get the baby out of her, and both bled out before she ever got to hold it,” the girl said. “Probably best for both. She would have killed herself and the baby when she found out why it is bad to have your father’s child in a family where inbreeding has been an issue for generations.”

“David? Can I blow you until you dump your load before I beg you to fuck my ass and pussy until you cum in both holes? No matter what the doc has tried, I’m still having nightmares and can’t get over all the times I was used like a blowup doll,” the girl asked.

I pulled her to me, got her to face me, and asked, “You’ve managed to keep your cherry for seventeen years? Are you sure you want to give it to me out of all the people in the world? You know it will just be a fuck to me and nothing more. We will never be a couple, date, marry, and you might get pregnant.”

“No worries about pregnancy. I pissed my little sister off when she was six. She went through my belly button to burn away a section of my fallopian tubes. I was only nine. I wish she had taken out my uterus, but she ensured I would have excruciatingly painful periods when I finally got my period. I didn’t get my period until two months after she died. The doctors here undid whatever she did to cause me to have that pain without tearing my cherry,” she told me. “I need this, David. You are the only person in the world that ever gave a shit about me. Having sex with the best guy I know will help me see that it can be enjoyable.”

I looked at the doctor, and she said, “I’m going to need some time to process what you showed me, David, and what she told me. There is a lot I need to reevaluate about what I thought I knew and what I believed to be fantasy or delusions.”

The girl dropped to her knees and started to suck me off. It made her hornier than ever in her life. She never managed to make me cum in her mouth, so I moved to her ass. After a dozen orgasms from my fucking her ass, she asked me to pull out.

“Wow! You’re a god, David. Anyone else would have fucked my pussy any of those times you popped out of my ass and got lined up with my wet cunt. I want to stay a virgin, after all. I thought I couldn’t cum unless you were in my pussy. Now I see that I didn’t just dream that I loved being buttfucked and cum a lot doing it. Some things you can block out when someone has you pinned to the ground so someone else can fuck your ass. Thank you for being you, David,” she told me.

After washing my dick, she energetically sucked me off, dressed, and left.

The doctor waited until the girl was gone and said, “I keep having to adjust my ideas about you, David. She wanted you to fuck her pussy, and from the look, I saw in her eyes, she still does. I know her better than she seems to know herself.”

“Maybe, doctor. I know that look in her eyes, too, and it wasn’t her needing me to take her virginity. She needed me to hold her in my arms as we gently made love, which would break her heart because she couldn’t ever have me that way. Ask her in your next session. Managing to stay a virgin in her family is a big feat, so you might also want to check on her for being a sociopath or something similar. The families don’t forgive things like sterilizing a sister for whatever pissed off a five-year-old psycho. Her father would have killed her little sister for that, so this girl must not have told anyone. Anyone she let know about it in her family would have raised it to the head of their families as a way to get rid of her little sister without repercussions,” I told the doctor.

She gave me a nasty look and said, “Go watch your daughter smash things. You are making my head hurt, and I’m nauseated by what I’ve learned.”

I hugged her. She seemed to need it.

I grabbed some food and did as she said, went to watch Ellen smash shit. I found they had reset the room again, and Ellen was going to town, hitting everything she could find. I felt over the link that Ellen was still raging but that this was helping on some level. Oddly, she hadn’t attacked any of the android dummies. Ellen seemed to enjoy sitting there to have her shakes or take a quick nap. One of the times she went to rest, I felt fear and something else over the link. I quickly went through the passageways I shouldn’t know about and entered the area where she was asleep. I soon had the helmet and gloves off with the suit sitting around her waist. I hugged Ellen and rubbed her back as she started whimpering a bit. I rubbed her back lightly to calm her down. She finally went into a deep sleep, and a nap sounded good.

“Wake up, daddy,” Ellen said as she squirmed a bit. “I need to go to use the bathroom.”

I helped her get out of her suit and boots before opening the doors into the deadman’s hallway. I shouldn’t have been able to walk through them without being stuck inside, but right then, I didn’t care why. Ellen had to go badly and would have left a big mess if we didn’t hurry. I started to leave to do her business privately, but she wanted me there with her, so I stayed.

“Thank you for knowing I needed you, daddy. I don’t remember much of the dream, only that I was maybe six or seven. I woke to find you holding me and went back to sleep,” Ellen told me. “I like this place a lot. We have to talk about what happened at school. I can’t come back to school until you speak with them, but I am still furious and need to go back to breaking things once whatever remained in me from the fried taco place is done being pushed out. Would you please tell the cook I need a lot more to eat now? I’m always starving.”

“Shit, or get off the pot,” I joked.

She did. It was often more than I expected from someone her size, even if her intestines were full of shit. When I checked, all the shakes’ stuff got fully absorbed, with almost nothing turning into poop. At one point, some gas cramps hit her, hurting so badly that they made her cry. It was something else new I hadn’t seen before.

Ellen didn’t cry when she was in pain.

“I’ve never had gas hurt so bad, daddy. Is there something wrong inside me?” she asked.

I looked and found something I didn’t expect. Ellen’s uterus wasn’t nearly developed enough to start having periods, and her ovaries didn’t even show they were thinking about starting to develop follicles yet. I checked her hormones for confirmation that Ellen wouldn’t have her first period for at least eighteen months. If not, two years.

Check Dee too, dummy.

I did check Dee and found out that she was maybe a year before her first period. I saw that she was on the toilet having what she thought were gas cramps. It made me check the other kids at school and Crimilda. I found Crimilda was constipated but showed no signs of what I saw. It was all girls in puberty but not close to getting their period.

All of them were on the toilet or had just gotten done.

I checked the school for something that might have caused what I saw but found no signs of anything that would cause this. Vicky got her period over the break. She had the shits, which I expected was a gift from Molly, but no signs of what Ellen had.

I checked the public school too and found it was hit or miss on the girls there. Many of them were on the throne or passed out from exhaustion.

None of the girls at the complex had it.

I had myself only to see bad energy in Ellen and found it quickly. It was something she ate. I checked to see that it wasn’t a parasite or something similar. It didn’t make sense why it would make the girl’s uterus contract like they had a cramp or contraction, but that is what it was doing as their bodies were fighting to get rid of it. How Ellen reacted when one of the cramps hit her was like she got kicked in the stomach. A long wet fart was the rest of what Molly purged out of Ellen’s body, but she still had the cramps. She cleaned her butt up, and then I had to carry her after one cramp hit her and dropped her to her knees.

I found a door that opened when we came out of the bathroom, so I headed that way to get Ellen checked out. The doctors took blood samples, tried to get a stool sample with no success, and then the OB went in to check Ellen’s uterus to be sure something else didn’t get in there again. The OB couldn’t explain why Ellen had her uterus contracting how it was currently.

As I waited, I looked for the energy color source. I found inside all the girls having the same issue as Ellen. It was from the fried taco place. A look down the street showed that the Redheaded clown and Crowned burger had it too, but not as severely. I sent that information to Paula since she seemed to want something to do lately. Somehow I managed to get the zoom working in my head in conjunction with my implant. Surprise of surprises, it was something sprayed on the plastic outside the toys. I started getting angry when Paula called me.

“I know you, David,” she started saying. “This was not malicious. According to my information, something was sprayed on the kid’s meal toys months ago at the port due to concerns over some rodents that got into the shipping crates. It should be non-toxic to humans, but it appears to cause some girls to have menstrual-like cramps. The FDA and EPA discovered these effects, and its manufacturer issued a recall. These meal toys were supposed to be tracked down and pulled. I understand it got mired in government red tape, and restaurants just got the notice last night or this morning. The effects appear to run their course in eighteen to twenty-four hours.”

That explains the redheaded clown not having toys last night, and they always have some junk to put on the boxes, even if it isn’t what they are promoting.

I asked Paula, “Are there any other side effects, say PMS, reported with this issue?”

“Odd that you should ask. Let me check,” Paula told me.

She returned to say, “It seems there are some reports of PMS-like symptoms in some of the girls. Some are quite severe. How did you know?”

I explained how Ellen was angry as hell about something, and then this hit her.

I told the doctors about it and went to tell Ellen, but she had run out of here, naked, back to the smash everything room. She was there naked, now, and going to town. Two of the orderlies tried to grab her to get her dressed. They finally left and closed the panel that unlocked from the outside. When Ellen went to the bathroom again, she found her suit, respirator, gloves, boots, safety goggles, and hardhat in the chamber between the two deadman’s hallways.

Her need to smash things is stronger than her need to resist dressing.

“We confirmed what you found, David. It is a form of rodent poison used to force miscarries. Human testing only happens in adults and young children, not tweens and teens. Effectively in pre-menarche girls in puberty, it causes their brains to think they are in labor for a brief time. The best the manufacturer will provide is that the effect is due to pubertal hormones at levels not present in pre-pubertal girls or post-monarchal women. The effects last no more than twenty-four hours. They did note that it may cause severe PMS-like symptoms in some of the affected girls,” the doctor told me.

That might explain some of what set off Ellen today, but she will have to tell me what happened first.

I will let the shrink know about this new information as well.

I went down around two in the morning to pick up the naked, dead-to-the-world Ellen and take her to my suite. I tucked her into the bed in her room here but woke with a naked Ellen spooned up to me with my piss boner pushed through the recently developed gap under her pussy.

“Ellen, pumpkin, this isn’t how a father should wake up with his daughter,” I told her.

“Maybe for all the other fathers in the world, but not you, daddy. You won’t ever do that stuff with me, and I won’t do that with you. I needed you to hold me, and I didn’t want it going up in either hole when it got hard. It always gets hard when you are sleeping. I finally had to sleep with my back against your chest instead of facing you. This way is much better, even if you won’t hold my small tit like all the other girls,” Ellen said. “Can we shower together? I love it when you wash my hair. I also think I have a few zits on my back where my bra goes, and I can’t reach them easily.”

More than a few zits, kiddo.

Before washing her hair, I scrubbed her back to get all the heads off the zits. She insisted on washing me. She washed my dick and balls with her hands, but that is all she did.

Ellen told me she takes my brother and sister into the changing room to shower with her after swimming. It is faster for her to soap up her hands to wash them. They won’t do it themselves yet.

I called the school to say that Ellen was going to the doctor today about what happened yesterday and wouldn’t be in school today. The girl helper who answered the phone said that Ellen wasn’t the only girl who had a lousy day yesterday, but they were mostly in middle school, not elementary. Ellen gave more blood, and we soon had the results. She has gotten it out of her system.

The shrink from yesterday had taken a week off to “digest” what she learned yesterday about the elite families. Ellen talked to the one who was helping out the other doctor’s patients until she got back. Their discussion was brief.

We got in the car, and I took Ellen to a spot where I used to hide when ignoring people, but it wasn’t at the elementary or middle school. Once inside, I sat quietly, waiting on Ellen to talk about what happened yesterday.

“I know better than to blame whatever I got from the food I ate as the reason I got in trouble at school,” she started. “I’ve ignored the science teacher because they know nothing about what they are trying to teach me. I should have been in bed, but we went out to get more to eat, so I didn’t get much sleep. I promised I tried hard to fight it, but he kept saying things I knew were wrong. I showed him the pages in the book that said so, even though I knew it without reading it. He got mad about it and said some mean things. He says those a lot to Crimilda and me, but Crimilda doesn’t even seem to notice or care.”

I asked her what he said.

She had to get her temper under control before she could say, “He asked me if I was so smart, then why was I in the dumb kid remedial classes instead of regular fifth or sixth grades?” It made me furious. I screamed many nasty things at him. All of them are true, but not exactly nice things to say. I don’t remember all of what he said back. I do remember him saying something about a wild animal and forest. I was so angry then that I wanted to attack him but knew I would hurt him and maybe be expelled. The school sent me home without even asking me what had happened. I got one of the people to drive me here because people here can help me. I was worried it was the Angries.”