Chapter 3

Shit! Unbelievable! Fucking hell on oat bread, that's what I say! My hands, both of them! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! My hands! What a time for my wrists to act up! Unbelievable! My hands have betrayed me. My hands feel as if they spasmed and closed tightly around blocks of dry ice or something even colder. Man oh man, why didn't I think of this before?

I release my grip and stare at my fingers. Pins and needles. It feels as if my fingers are suffering from freezer burn. I haven't felt pain this bad in ... I don't know how long. I take the time to take a deep breath and recover, hoping the pain will fade. And then my intestines give a heave, a deep ticklish sensation as if something is wiggling deep inside me. I feel sudden intestinal gas pressure and I try to fart to relieve it. I feel a strange reluctance with my rectum to release the gas. I'm all plugged up, and when I finally do blow the fart I grimace. It feels as if my anus is covered in a slimy mess.

Fuck! Did I just take a crap?! Here?! Oh no, not now! How embarrassing! I have to check. I wiggle a bit until my hand is at the bottom of my butt. Fucking hell on multigrain, that's what I say! The spot below my anus and the back of my sac both feel as if they're covered in slimy goo. I bring my probing hand to my nose and sniff. Very strange. The goo has a faint odor of shit but is not nearly as strong as I was expecting. I rub my fingers together and am very puzzled. The brown goo is also extremely slippery. My body seems to be expelling lubrication.

What have I eaten recently? Nothing really comes to mind. My stomach feels very empty. Perhaps that's were the tickling sensation came from. I haven't eaten and haven't felt hungry in so long that my body is trying something new to remind me that I'll eventually have to eat something. My problem is I just don't feel hungry. I feel my stomach as empty but somehow that just doesn't lead to a desire for food anymore, and it hasn't for ... a long time. A full day? More? I don't know. It all seems like a blur.

And my cock! Fucking hell on sourdough, that's what I say! What the fucking hell?! I'm erect, or at least I used to be. My body is winding down from some super full blown erection. Am I going mad?! What's so sexy about carrying two heavy suitcases in a dank summer night and then having my hands explode in freezer burn? Was I daydreaming? I try to remember what I was thinking about just before my hands did their deep freezer routine on me. And then ... And then...

I cry out in absolute terror and stagger. Fortunately my flashback now is as brief as ever. It almost gives me a glimpse of an infinite horror but then my mind pushes the nightmare away. But I don't want to stand here anymore. I feel too exposed. I am vulnerable, and I absolutely don't have the guts to stay here. After gingerly testing the weight of my two suitcases again, I resume my march. I take another three steps, and then my wrists leave me crying in agony. My mental defenses fail in the intense pain and I am swept back fully into a memory from hell.

I have just gripped Grace's hips and her naked flesh is as cold as ice water. The shock and the coldness causes my wrists to hurt horribly and this causes my bowels to spasm so violently that I think I'm about to succeed in shitting out my butt plug. But before I can expel the plug, it seems to come alive inside me and I scream in pain. My face is contorted in agony. My rectum! My prostate!

A few years earlier I had a prostate biopsy and I found the procedure very unpleasant, even with the local anesthetic. What I am experiencing now is infinitely worse. It feels as if my butt plug has just fired a barbed harpoon through the center of my prostate, destroying the gland and my reproductive ductwork beyond. The pain is unbearable and I'm rolling on the floor and crying in agony.

I dimly feel Grace's arms on my body. "I'm rolling you on your back, David," she says calmly. "Try to help me."

I don't understand, I don't understand! I want to shout to Grace what my problem is but I feel so confused and overwhelmed with pain that the words just won't come. And I'm breathing in great gulps of air and my arms and legs are starting to feel heavy. I've got to get this horrible plug out of me! It feels alive! I can feel it twisting and spinning and sliding into me and it's absolutely horrible. So I reach back to my anus with a last burst of my fading strength and thankfully I grab a thick handful of the coarse hair. I'm somewhat surprised. The plug seems to have a life of its own and is sliding even deeper into my intestines. I had this irrational fear that all the coarse hair had already been sucked into my body.

This horrible plug! I am determined to get it out no matter what the pain. So I pull as hard as I can and the tail comes easily into the air. I stare at the end. At first I'm simply bewildered. There's no rubber plug, just the end of the hairs attached to a scalp of skin. I stare more closely and blink in horror. The scalp, it reminds me of deer skin shedding from antlers. This skin is fresh, alive, as if it had just been torn from a living animal. I wince from the pressure in my intestines. My whole body is vibrating. Something is wiggling vigorously along my digestive tract. It's sliding deeper into me. I'm sure of it!

I look up and see Grace calmly kneeling near me, smiling and not saying anything. That makes no sense. Pushing that thought aside, I force my heavy arm and hand to return to my anus. Fuck! It's enormous! I'm so open I could probably pop my hand into my rectum very easily. I try to do so, if only to see if I have any chance at all of grabbing the creature crawling up my digestive tract.

But Grace stops me. She pulls my arm to my side and then finishes rolling me flat on my back. I'm panting heavily in deep full breaths and my arms and legs feel as if they weigh ten times what they should. What the hell is going on?! My eyes search for Grace's eyes for answers.

And she's laughing at me! "David! Didn't your mother ever teach you not to stick your dirty little hands inside your dirty smelly butt in the presence of naked girls?" Grace clicks her tongue in disapproval. "You have such disgusting manners!"

"What..." I gasp. "What is it?"

"What's inside you? Well, I guess I might tell you if you ask sweetly."

I'm still panting deeply as I stare at Grace. My arms are almost unmovable now. I'm completely at her mercy and I'm just beginning to realize that means I'm completely at nothing at all. "Please?" I whisper.

"Well, okay, since you were nice and said please. The creature is called a Silkie. You never had a plug. It was just me being playful with my pet Silkie. It's vaguely similar to an octopus, no bones and all sleek muscle, but it's an air breather. My Silkie is also a juvenile that has just begun its metamorphosis to adulthood. The coarse tail is the mark of the juvenile. Its adult tail will be soft and luxuriant. And you know how nice those adult tails are, don't you, you stupid moron?"

I gasp. "My butt..."

"Yes, it would be very appropriate to call you a gaping asshole now. My first wipe was a powerful muscle relaxant and topical anesthetic. It dilated you so I could slip my Silkie inside your rectum without you feeling it. I was careful not to touch your prostate with the first wipe though. I didn't want to diminish the pleasure of watching your expression as my Silkie fired its juvenile harpoon. That was very enjoyable!"

Grace sighs happily and goes on. "In the rear of the Silkie near its tail is a concave area around its anus. At the start of its metamorphosis, it fires a barb that semi-paralyzes its host, potent neurotoxins that relax your voluntary muscles. That's why you can't lift your arms."

I try to shout but all I can manage is a whisper. "What?!"

Grace laughs and continues. "I didn't have to rotate my pet to fire into your prostate. That was just me being playful. Any meaty part of your rectal wall would have done just as well. And the toxins also stimulate deep breathing in the host, just what the Silkie needs. It wants your body to be full of fresh oxygen-rich blood."

My eyes go wide as I dimly realize what Grace is alluding to. I struggle to test whether I can stop my deep breathing. A pitiful show of defiance, but it's the only thing I can offer as protest.

"David! Don't you dare fight the deep breathing! If you do, I'll put my heels on your delicate little wrists and then grind down with all my weight! The pain will leave you gasping and I'll still get the breathing I want. It's your choice whether you want the pain. You can't change what's happening with the Silkie."

My body feels like lead and my mind is thinking furiously for some way to resist but I'm hitting on empty. Meanwhile Grace is bringing all the pillows and sheets from the bed and piling them near my hips. I give a soft scream from a new intense pain. It's coming from the middle of my bowels.