WHO: Sato and Eztli (mortal, Bri)
WHEN: 30 JAN 1943
WHERE: Sato's housing attachment at Dashrix's estate
MAJOR NSFW warning for graphic gore and torture
[15:21] Naoki Sato was well aware of the need to be... more than he currently was. There were few tools at his disposal for such things and after his recent incident with Lex the Jikininki was feeling his current weaknesses more vividly than normal. It drove him to go to the garden, find the bamboo frame and its solitary human inhabitant, and cut the girl down with swift slashes of little whip-like tendrils of blood. He was in his true form, his teeth rows of sharp triangular bone, his mouth and lips a mess of blood and necrotic flesh. That forever-deep gash in his side, hiding the inhuman eyes that searched constantly for something to sate his hunger, bled freely.
The loop of intestines that hung out of it jostled as he crouched to pick the girl up by the hair, using that lengthy braided ponytail as a handle. He inspected her curiously, looking over her body for signs of malnourishment or deep infection - things that would endanger the normal human physiology and prevent it from seeing its proper use.
"Can you stand?" he asked, using his feet to nudge hers roughly into place to try and bear her weight. Gradually he lowered her to stand properly on them, letting her simply fall to the ground if she could not.
[15:31] Eztli Tecuatl 's listless eyes stared forwards, her once pristine skin now blotched by a patchwork of bruises and scabbed over patches of chafed skin and lacerations. The grass felt sharp and scratchy under her feet, across her mons and her rump and her tits and her belly and her thighs, the cold ocean air at the high altitudes slicing through her naked body like knives. The internal scarring of her now eternally gaped cunt ached painfully, the ever-constant reminder of the first terrible injury her owner had subjected her to, the sharp, rusted prongs of the iron pear that had torn in shreds her vaginal channel.
Still, the woman's face, almost and occasionally more deadened than even her owner's, winced as she fell to the ground, the tendrils of blood having freed her from the torturous pigeon-like position that the little bamboo frame often forced her to maintain, her lactic-acid-flooded muscles screaming in protest as she caught herself on her palms, the thick, wild brush scratching her skin all over, even in sensitive places. That wince quickly fades back to its usual neutrality as Naoki grabs her by her braided hair, though the faint twitches of the eyes and lips indicate the continued suffering she feels below her deadened expression.
"I can stand, owner," replied the tortured eighteen year old born for a terrible purpose, her voice even-keeled if very much strained. And she does as her owner's feet roughly nudges hers into position, even if it is clear that she is only barely doing so, as always - her whole body is shaking, her movements always a beat behind, lethargic from the constant expenditure of energy required by her usual status.
[15:41] Naoki Sato was content to let her bear her own weight. He marked the tremor in her muscles, signs of weakness and scarring and whatever unseen pains she was fighting, with quick glances and lingering stares at affected limbs but his eyes lingered more on that gaping cunt. He reminded stepped to her and reminded himself of the pear and its rough tearing from her body by crouching and sliding his fingers in along that scarred canal, feeling the rent tissues that had healed too poorly to really be called 'mended.' He took a small sample of her from there, one finger welling with blood until it formed a claw at his fingertip. He carved into the skin of her cunt without warning, collecting flesh before withdrawing his hand.
The blood at his finger encased that gouged piece of pussymeat into a little ball and he put it into his mouth, devouring it to process the contents of that muddled blood and gauge for signs of infection, anemia... the concentration of her blood cells, red and white, were likely to tell him that.
"You were given to me as a sacrifice," he said once he'd finished his examination. "But you're useless to me dead. Taking your life is an important part of what I need." Sato spoke blandly, matter-of-fact as opposed to laden with any kind of gravity. "Today we'll prepare you for this. I have something more suitable to that end inside." He turned and began walking toward the house. "Follow me. If you collapse before you make it inside, I'll simply throw you to the piranhas."
[16:03] Eztli Tecuatl stood still, except to widen her legs as Naoki came close, offering him even easier access to her gaped, ruined hole, the young woman tensing and shuddering as his fingers slipped into them and traced the ugly, uneven scarring. She no longer felt pleasure down there, and the dull aches gave way to something less painful but much more distressing for the inexperienced eighteen year old - a thrum of a systemic discomfort that ripples outwards from her groin, up and back down her spine, that shot through her limbs and did not abate as long as Sato's fingers were in contact with the ruined tissue.
The girl's eyes are open wide, her eyes dull and a little glassy, her lips slightly parted as her body shakes; but then there's a sudden, burning sensation in her groin as Naoki's blood forms a sharp claw and less slices and more gouges a piece of meat out of her already ruined hole, and she briefly yelps, her body frozen up as she forces herself to keep her muscles tense and not collapse, not even move as she instinctively wants to to cover her groin and protect it from harm.
The bloodied piece of vaginal tissue tastes healthy - if a little soggy in some places from minor internal bleeding, and tough in others from scar tissue. Eztli knows none of this. She simply watches her owner toss the piece of her flesh into his gaping, multi-rowed teethed maw and consume part of her - part of her ruined yet still virgin maidenhood, her legs shaken, pain radiating from her groin, her hole now leaking blood into the grass, the woman forcing herself to stay still even as the injury starts to consume her thoughts.
"Yes, owner..." she responds, somehow managing not to stutter or stammer in the midst of the pain, though her voice now is even more strained. The only emotion, the only feeling, the woman seemed to display, was agony and discomfort close to it - not fear, not despair, and not resentment, at the matter-of-fact statement of her purpose. The 'girl' was not a 'girl'. She was a material, an ingredient. She was really in fact, more of an 'it'.
"I will die only when you intend it," she confirms, before following him along, each step painful and exhausting, each one leaving her all too aware of the brush scratching at her naked skin.
[16:20] Naoki Sato stepped through the door into the kitchen, mercifully taking the closest doorway to them. On the stove a couple of the burners were lit, each of them with a long metal knife set into the flames to heat them to glowing temperatures. The smell of gasoline and heated metal filled the place but the Jikininki paid no heed to such things. He'd made some changes to the interior to prepare.
A blood-red circle was drawn onto the floor, inscriptions nearly illegible around its circumference and the bodies of small animals arranged in a circle around the outer lines, varying in age of death and level of decomposition. In the circle was the table, more blood drawn in kanji down its center. The table had been moved to the center of the room, the chairs set off to the sides along one wall.
"Lay yourself on the table," he instructed. There was no threat of discard this time. Sato went to the variosu things on the counter - various toxic herbs and a peeled root of ginger.
[16:38] Eztli Tecuatl felt her feet touch the solid wood, but seemed not to register the change from the uncomfortable grass and brush to a more comfortable surface, did not seem at all relieved - simply a change from one environment to the next. Nor did she seem to react to the smells of gasoline and heated metal. Were they unpleasant to the woman? Of course. But that was the woman's normal, a constant parade of aversive stimuli that she had been raised to drown herself from birth until the moment of her death, and perhaps even past it - that part would remain to be seen.
She did, however, finally put her hands to cup her mons, covering the bleeding hole - less to protect herself, and much more to protect Sato's flooring and the ritual circle he had drawn thereupon. She, after all, was a consumable item, ultimately unimportant beyond her intended purpose - but Sato's home was his place of sanctuary, would be important to him long after she was out to use. Thus, carefully cupping her gaped, blood-leaking cunt with one hand, t
[16:38] Eztli Tecuatl woman slowly crawls up onto the table, before laying herself down upon it, her eyes staring listlessly up at the ceiling, still as a doll, only removing her hand from her cunt once she had been laid upon it properly. She did not turn to watch as Sato prepared - a sacrifice, after all, had no need to know of what would happen to her, should do nothing but listen to instructions and be perfectly compliant to its disposal. Curiosity was simply useless to it.
But she did listen to the shuffling sounds of ingredients being shifted about, perhaps of things being cut and others being placed into containers, the latina entirely without knowledge of what shape or manner the preparations would take - or what the eventual sacrifice would entail. None of that was hers to know.
[16:49] Naoki Sato came back to the table empty-handed. He walked a circle around her before pausing at one end to slap sharply at the hand covering her scarred and bleeding cunt. "Do not cover it. Let the blood fall," he said, watching to make sure she followed orders and revealed herself. When she did, he moved his own blood, lashing out with tendrils of it to bind her tightly to the table legs - one extremity towards each corner to stretch her taut.
The blood remained even as he stepped away. "It will take increasing amounts of blood spilled to revive the carcasses. I am ascertaining how much... and in doing so marking your flesh as fuel. To burn and consume, to gain energy. To grow." He spoke almost as if he were talking to himself more than speaking with her, walking paces around the circle.
"Pain keeps the mind alive. Alert. You will not run away to somewhere distant and untouchable," he said. Taking up the peeled ginger root, he stepped in to jam it into her gaping cunt, knowing full well the sharp edges and peeled flesh of the root would cause immediate stinging.
[17:05] Eztli Tecuatl simply shifted her hand faster as Sato slapped it, allowing the blood to flow from her ruined vagina as ordered. She didn't so much as flinch as tendrils of her owner's blood suddenly wrapped around her wrists and ankles, shackled them and then roughly spread her limbs apart, each pulling her limbs taut until it feels like her feet might tear from her legs, her calves from her thighs, her thighs from her hip; her hands from her forearms and her forearms from the elbows and the upper arms from the shoulders. Failing all that, she feels as if she might split from the cunt. The eighteen year old's eyes well with tears, her teeth gritting together, her flesh not even capable of tremors from being pulled so far apart; only her fingers writhing in the air, her head tilting back.
Still, she forces herself to stay conscious and present, even without her owner's admonition, for this was her role to play; listened to him speak AT her more than with her, listened to his order.
"I... Will... Not... Run..." she says through her gritted teeth, her pain evident throughout her voice and precious little else. "I... Will...!-"
The woman is interrupted as the peeled ginger, with all its sharp edges and rough surfaces, is shoved into her gaping cunt, the stinging pain immediately causing the woman to let out a low squeal: "Hnnnghhhhh...!"
Not a tremor occurs through her held-taut body, other than the sudden clenching of fingers and toes. Still, she did her best to focus on her suffering as commanded, ready to have herself be used as fuel for Sato's works.
[17:31] Naoki Sato felt a twitch in his pants as he heard that squeal. Viscerally he did enjoy such things... but his time with Lex had instilled in him a need for control, and that ring still lodged around the base of his cock made a fantastic reminder of the need for that control. He twisted the ginger root once before releasing it and moving to collect the other one. That one was shoved into her puckered asshole dry.
"Destruction and creation are in balance. Endless, cyclic. Destruction is required to grow," he intoned as if reciting from a book he'd read. Which he was, if paraphrasing. "Death brings new life." He returned to the table, stepping carefully into the circle to begin to carve, outlining on her left wrist the characters 生活 for life by dragging his claw through her flesh. It was shallow, just enough to bleed but not enough to sever the major vessels in that part of her arm.
"Blood is life in fluid transport. You give it. I take it from you... and give it to another," he said quietly. The blood flowed down and over her skin at his command, his bloodworking abilities moving it over the wood and toward the first, just created carcass of a mouse. It settled into the corpse and Sato focused his energies into it, the circle beneath them glowing faintly.
"Mezamero [目覚めろ]," he commanded, and the thing slowly blinked itself awake, as if it had been sleeping.
[17:48] Eztli Tecuatl || The young latina girl was in untold agony, stretched nearly to breaking point by bloody shackles that turned the table she lay onto into something more akin to a medieval rack, the constant stinging of the juices of the ginger assaulting her scarred, ruined folds; the human sacrifice let out another yelp as her owner's hand plunged yet another ginger root into her puckered rear, each knob and knot pullng at and tugging at her anal walls; scraping against and chafing against her dry, unlubricated innards, stinging and burning the tender flesh.
Eztli forced herself to stay in the present though, and not to withdraw into emptiness, forced herself to focus her entire being and self into her role, to listening to Naoki's chant and to the full experience of the pain tearing through her joints, overpowering the dull aching of overworked muscles; to the feeling of horrible, radiating discomfort from the contact of the ginger with her scars, accented by the constant stinging of ginger in her virgin hole, and sharp needles of pain shooting up her gut from the gouged, bleeding absence from which Sato had torn her flesh; and of course the feeling of fullness from being filled front and back by knobs of an acidic, burning root.
"Hah... Hagh... Ghhhh..." she pants, prevented from even flinching or jerking about by the bloody ropes binding her to the table, as Sato carves the Japanese characters for life into her skin, scarring her left wrist with the characters, and then, at his command, began to be pulled out of her body and down into the carcass of a mouse.
Eztli's lashes fluttered as a horrible pain flickers to life in every cell of her body - elevating and amplifying every pain and discomfort she was already being subjected to as she feels every cell of her body burn as Naoki begins to use her flesh as fuel as promised; She feels herself being fundamentally consumed, burned away in a way she did not understand, a pain that does not overshadow her other pains but amplified them beyond her comprehension, and forces herself to remain present for the whole of it.
[18:21] Naoki Sato moved to her upper arm. There was more meat to the body there, enabling him to carve deeper, bleed her more without severing her brachial artery. Again with the same character, letting the blood flow and slide until it reached the mouse that was several days dead. The circle grew brighter. The process repeated as he did the same to each leg, leaking more blood from her until he felt her start to slip into the dangerous territory of passing out.
There he paused, letting the weakened young woman have some time to herself and her bleeding and her pain. On the counter along with the herbs was a small Aether battery, not unlike the kind that Lex had jammed into Kiernan's chest... though Sato had made some modifications with this one. Cylindrical, infused with his blood and Thirteen's energy, it was set to rejuvenate who it was attached to and he walked it over to Eztli and considered the holes she had left. Without ceremony he pushed it into her urethra deep enough to keep it nudged against the sphincter keeping her bladder from emptying.
Sato spoke a command word and flooded the woman with rejuvenating energy, forcing her back to a level of health where he could bleed her again... though it likely felt like something burning painfully in her pisshole.
[18:31] Eztli Tecuatl endured with all her might the tortures to which she was being subjected, the virgin sacrifice now starting to gasp out sobs despite a face devoid of fear, the eighteen year old being pushed to human limits as Naoki continued to carve the characters for 'life' into her limbs, once each upon her forearms and her upper arms, and again on her calves and her thighs. The only reason she had yet to void herself was that she had done so prior to the preparations, had been quenched on her own urine as had become her main source of liquid - only spared the degradation of consuming her filth for the sake of not killing her before her time with an illness.
The sacrifice became lightheaded as her blood was pulled from her veins, weaker as the fire that seared every cell of her body increased in intensity, amplifying every one of her discomforts and agonies;
This did not spare the woman the cruel fate of the Aether battery shoved into her urethra, pushed up to the sphincter of her bladder, the new burn added to the old as she felt her blood supernaturally replenished.
[18:43] Naoki Sato completed his final carvings, leaving her arms marked deeply with the kanji for LIFE. It got progressively harder to rouse the mice... demanding more blood, more effort, more energy. "I take and I give," he muttered and planted his hand on her sternum. His blood moved in lines down his arm, taken from the core of his own being and running in rivulets along the path of his arteries and veins, drawing them on the external surface of his skin. When they reached his fingertips they formed claws that dug in in points around her sternum, snaking down into her flesh, aiming to go between her ribs and pierce into her heart.
But the strain of keeping so many dead mice alive was costing him. Sato's focus wavered and the blood went inert, spattering onto her tits and face and neck and belly as his control of it left him. He collapsed against the table panting, the mice finally falling into 'eternal' rest again as his Aetheric energy left them.
Sato caught his breath and pushed off, stepping back to sit in a heap on the floor, sweaty and pale and hungry for all of his effort. The bindings keeping Eztli bound were released... though he certainly didn't tell her she could move anywhere and he made no motion to remove the tormenting roots from inside her.
[18:51] Eztli Tecuatl whimpered, the deep cuts into her flesh that marked her skin with 'life', each threatening to condemn her instead to death. She's struggling to retain consciousness, her breathing laboured and shallowing even with the assistance of the Aether battery that rejuvenated her body; her blood covers the table and the floor, even as Naoki reaches for her chest, dug into her large bust and sinking deeper, towards and past her ribs... Threatening to make this the moment she fulfilled her purpose.
But it was at the last moment that Sato withdrew his claws, his focus wavering and the blood suddenly being rendered inert, the corpses of the mice now again dormant as the Aether left their bodies.
The moment of sacrifice temporarily averted, Eztli slumps over on the dinner table, now barely conscious, her tortured limbs twitching and shudders wracking her spine. Despite the pain of the ginger inserted into her holes, the woman makes no effort to remove them without Sato's instructions to do so.
Either way, though, it seemed Eztli would live through severe torture for another few months yet.
[19:07] Naoki Sato took some time simply sitting there, letting himself recuperate from the ordeal and the explorative ritual. He went and collected the mice carcasses, each of them disappearing into his maw and swallowed as easily as any other type of meat. He gained some energy from the fresher ones, enough at least to stand and withdraw to himself the blood he'd used for the circle, and the liquid he'd spilled on her skin.
"I have a new place for you," he said to the girl. Reaching, he grasped her by the hair and drug her across the floor. He gave her no directive as he dragged her up the stairs and towards one of the closets in his bedroom. Behind the sliding door was wooden coffin-like structure, a rectangular slit in the front and one hole in the side big enough for an arm to slide out. The wall adjacent to that hold had a chain and a shackle. Sato set her up inside it, tall enough for her to stand upright, small enough that bending her knees made them impact the rough wood.
He fed her arm through the hole and
[19:07] Naoki Sato shackled it to the wall, feeling on the inside of her elbow for a proper vein. He did not speak to her. At most, he muttered of the need for increased survivability, increased tenacity. When he shut the lid of that coffin she heard metal latches closing, locks clicking into place to keep it there. The next direct contact she had was his fingers as he installed the IV ... then he left her in the dark, her holes still plugged and burning.