[Bitch and Beast]

Bitch and Beast
Author: Unknown
I
discovered that men's craving for blood is just as intense as their craving for women. It excites them, thrills them, and brings them uncontrollable
climaxes.
The man beside me had his large hand gripping my neck, causing me to involuntarily curl up in pain. I felt like
he was about to snap my neck, and with a snap, before I could even beg for mercy, I would die. But
I still had to smile, a seductive, ingratiating, hypocritical smile. My full lips, painted with bright red CD lipstick
, were raised at a high angle, adding another expression to my face, which was already contorted with pain. I think
my face must have looked terrifying at that moment.
Bitch, take a good look. This is my pet dog, my darling. Open your eyes wide and watch how she
kills that good-for-nothing who only knows how to be arrogant on a woman's belly. Ken, cigar in mouth, hands gleaming with gold rings, his
swollen, sausage-like hands gripping me tightly, twisting my head unnaturally, my
body held against his, my head forced to look down.
This place was a dueling arena. I'd heard of it long ago. Ken and his bored buddies, for the thrill, found
an abandoned factory, fenced it off, and kept several ferocious
dogs—reportedly from Tibet, China, bigger than a person—stuffed inside. After starving them for days, they threw one of his traitorous men into the arena.
A group of bored men sat on luxurious leather sofas, sipping champagne with ice floating on top,
laughing as the skinny man below was chased, torn apart, and screamed in agony by the dogs.
Amidst the pervasive stench of blood, they shouted "Cheers!" as if they'd completed a mutually satisfying deal.
Then, they suddenly found this pleasure addictive. It slowly turned into a regular
game.
At first, it was too bloody, so one of the more refined noblemen suggested a more elegant game.
Ken then thought of underground boxing.
He went to those lawless areas and randomly picked some unwanted children, then had them trained by those people.
In America, there are just too many people; the taxpayer-funded police would love for them all to disappear so
they wouldn't be so busy with theft, rape, homosexuality, and AIDS that they wouldn't have time to find women. So,
their actions weren't hindered at all.
Those children were all gathered in a training camp and thoroughly disciplined. Ken's men said those people
weren't human, they were beasts. Ken didn't treat them like human beings either, raising them like wild animals.
Now, I've witnessed the power of beasts, standing in that place surrounded by wires and brightly lit,
bloodthirsty gazes of wealthy women and men dressed in glamorous designer clothes.
Those men sat on comfortable, soft Italian leather sofas, either holding naked prostitutes in their arms
or letting muscular men grope them, watching them enjoy themselves. They might
be doing something on the spot; those things moving under those short skirts were definitely not mice.
It's fucking infuriating. I cursed inwardly. I was
Ken
's new favorite. He saw my performance at a strip club in Las Vegas and
had the manager bring me over.
I was wearing leopard-print bikini bottoms, my upper body completely naked, my firm breasts sticking out,
when I walked into their private room. Ken's fat hand reached into my underwear and stuffed dozens of bills inside—
at least ten thousand dollars, by my estimation.
I thought I'd struck gold. I squatted down in front of him, about to unzip his pants
to service his little brother.
He shoved me away and said, "From now on, you're my little kitten."
I was called "Little Kitty" at the club; everyone liked to call me that, and I let them call me that disgusting name.
At this point, I wasn't sure if I should go with him. You see, Ken was the boss of this area;
everyone in the underworld knew that this man who looked like a fat pig was the emperor. If I went with him, he wouldn't
shortchange me on money; it would be better than staying here, dancing for those stinky men every day,
screaming my lungs out under them for more money. But I also had to consider my life. If he got angry and shot me,
my life would be wasted.
So I hesitated for two days until my sister called to say her school needed money again and she didn't have
any. Then I picked up the business card he gave me and dialed his number.
Now I regret it. How could I have been so stupid as to push myself into hell?
Ken is a blood-drinking, cannibalistic demon, and a demon with erectile dysfunction.
He doesn't have a man's penis; I knew that on the first night.
Later, I learned that people like him are often perverts. They can't get
the dignity of a man in this aspect, so they use other methods to compensate. Even more ruthless, even more terrifying. He's a creative boss; his
torture abilities are all in his swollen belly, which looks like he's six months pregnant.
His methods are so numerous they terrify me. As soon as night fell, I was terrified and wanted to run away. But no matter
how much I resisted, I was like a cat with its claws cut off, caught by his men, locked in his basement, and
subjected to a hundredfold retribution.
Several times I felt like I was about to die, that death would be better, but this damned body survived.
His doctor was always on standby; he knew all my wounds and how I got them. Each
time, his men dragged me out and placed me on that white bed where countless people had died,
the bloodthirsty glint in his eyes freezing like lightning behind his gold-rimmed glasses. Clearly, he liked me
like this. He liked blood, wounds, and pitiful women.
However, Ken paid a good amount; the more serious the injury, the more dollars he paid. Once, when I almost breathed my last to see
my beloved God, Ken generously gave me a villa.
I had no reason to complain about this kind of life.
Ken was a dangerous man. Standing next to him, sometimes he would give you a benevolent smile; he looked
like a pig, so fat he could barely move on his own. He looks like a pig, so he's always ranked number one.
For a moment, I looked at him with disdain, thinking his head was structured like a pig's. Only those who died at his hands
knew that Ken wasn't as simple as he seemed. I wondered if he was deliberately made this way to deceive others
.
Sleeping next to him, sometimes I wanted to touch my neck, as if a knife was held to it, ready
to cut open my veins, reopen my closed arteries, and watch my blood splatter like a fountain, while he laughed
, raised his glass, and turned to his bodyguards, who were also grinning, saying, "What a beautiful scene." Damn it 　　.
That's how he played my sister to death. 　　I told my sister that she was just like those strippers, a brainless idiot with an F-cup bust, who 　　lost everything once she slept with a man. I told her Ken was a castrated pig while munching on fries, 　　laughing loudly and exaggerating my breathing, imitating a man's voice, "Oh, baby, I want to hold you tight. 　　Oh, but my little baby is gone." 　　She laughed so hard that all the silicone implants in her body trembled, like a sow desperately eating. 　　This was the last time I saw this living woman whose mind was consumed by men. No, it should be 　　said, the second and last time I saw her. She was covered in blood, and 　　a large gash had been made in her slender, swan-like neck, where a sharp, white Swiss Army knife had lightly sliced through the veins. 　　Terror was written on her beautiful face, her red lips parted so wide you could see her throat, struggling to make a sound— 　　not her signature, seductive moans, like the undulating waves of a wave. I think it was perhaps a plea to save me, or an apology. 　　Warm blood, still at thirty-seven degrees Celsius, gushed out, splashing high like a red fountain. 　　The reason she died was because she'd found a man no less idiotic than herself. 　　After enjoying the services of this young, strong gigolo in bed, she took a drag of her cheap cigarette, and as if to demonstrate her superior judgment, revealed 　　the secret I'd told her: that gigolo had actually dared to try and swindle Ken out of a million dollars. 　　Ken smiled helplessly and said, "These kinds of things really are a man's secret." 　　With a wave of his hand, his only henchman immediately handed over a million dollars, placing it in a black box. The man 　　took it, lost in his daydreams, and left. Before turning away, he didn't forget to say to the smiling Ken, "Brother, there's nothing to be ashamed of 　　. You can consider using your backside for pleasure. It feels good, really, believe me." 　　Ken waved his fat trotters and said softly, "That's a good idea, isn't it?" 　　The black man behind him had a rocket launcher slung over his shoulder. As the man stepped out of his safe distance, 　　a fireball exploded on him instantly. He and the million dollars he couldn't earn even with countless women 　　turned to dust. 　　Ken shook his head and whispered, "May God forgive his sins. What an unlovable child, but also 　　God's son. 　　Mike, don't you think?" Ken's eyes never left the scene, which was as beautiful as fireworks 　　, as he spoke to his only trustworthy henchman behind him. 　　"Yes, sir." Mike bowed respectfully. 　　His next action was to find the woman, and while she was diligently serving a client, a group of people 　　rushed in. The man was so frightened he became impotent on the spot, perhaps for life. 　　When it was time to punish her, it was just Mike, him, and me. 　　Mike threw me against the wall, my bones dislocated. I groaned, trying to stand, but Mike trampled me to the ground, like a 　　worm 　　that could be easily crushed into a puddle of green liquid and a few small fragments . 　　Mike's eyes were fixed on me, and his thick mouth uttered a single word: "Bitch ." Over there, a terrified Sue looked 　　like an eleven-year-old girl 　　being raped for the first time by her beastly father . She softly asked, "What are you going to do? 　　" Ken walked to her side, gently lifting her chin, his eyes gazing at 　　her beautifully arched neck, like a work of art, his hand gently 　　caressing her Adam's apple. A deep voice uttered a few words: beautiful, pitiful girl. 　　Sue's long, curled eyelashes, like a doll's, fluttered desperately as she pleaded pitifully, "Please, let me go." 　　Ken's fingers touched her lips, and she used the same seductive move to tempt him, her mouth immediately opening to 　　swallow his thumb, sucking and licking it. Her voice trembled as she said, "Please, I'm just a pitiful woman 　　." 　　Ken smiled kindly, taking the knife that reflected the colors of reality from Mike's other hand, and 　　gently made a cut. 　　Sue didn't even have time to cry out in pain before her mouth and eyes widened, staring at the ceiling. 　　A red gash suddenly appeared on her white neck, blood gushing out impatiently, droplets of blood scattering into a mist in the air. " 　　It looks just like ejaculation," Mike said with ecstasy. 　　Ken walked up to me, bent down in the same way, his hands touching my neck, my face, and softly said, " 　　Darling, how should I punish you?" 　　I cried in terror, my body trembling like a newborn kitten. 　　I begged him, "Don't kill me, do whatever you want to me, please." 　　He suddenly laughed, a loud laugh, but his hand tightened instantly, suffocating me by cutting off my airway 　　. As my body convulsed from lack of oxygen, Ken released his hand and said, "Baby, 　　how could I kill you? I'd be heartbroken if you died." 　　He left, and Mike, turning back, cursed me as a bitch and followed him. 　　I curled up into a ball, my arms wrapped around my trembling body, staring in horror at Sue 　　kneeling there, her eyes like those of a worn-out doll's glass beads, the pupils of her gray pupils 　　dilated to their limit, her mouth gaping open like an enormous chalice, from which her red 　　tongue protruded. Blood slowly flowed from the wound on her neck, spreading across her entire body, warming her full breasts, her flat 　　stomach, and her perpetually unsatisfied lower body. 　　When I got back to the villa, I was so scared that I practically crawled into Ken's room. I clung to his legs and begged, "Don't 　　kill me, don't kill me!"

He stroked my hair, but there wasn't a trace of anger on his face. In fact, he seemed to enjoy my
submission.
I had a feeling that all he wanted was my pleading, crying, and fear—or rather, not me, but
my face. The submission and weakness on that face pleased him.
So I went along with him. When he wanted me to laugh, I laughed seductively; when he wanted me to cry, I
cried as if my whole family had died.
He was happy, and I was safe.
Now
, he had brought me to a battlefield he had built very successfully, a jungle he called his proudest
domain. He had set the rules here: whoever he commanded to live, lived; whoever he commanded to die, died, and was to be carried into a coffin. He
was the master here. He was very satisfied with his efforts.
Normally, I didn't need to come; I would wait in his basement, bound like a sow awaiting slaughter,
waiting for his pleasure. Today was an exception. He said his baby was about to emerge, a loyal bitch he had trained for fifteen years
was about to step out of the darkness and perform for him. This was a day he wanted everyone to remember, so he
brought me, along with all his friends and subordinates. We gathered in the jungle, waiting for him to tell us about
the most beautiful and cruel scene of the century.
I saw a strong white man pacing back and forth in a cage woven from countless intersecting wires,
flaunting his steel-like muscles, his thick arms raised high. The women on the platform let out lewd
screams, some even throwing down their barely-there underwear.
"Useless," Ken said softly, taking a sip of red wine.
*Ding.* When the bell rang to signal the start of the duel, the beast on the other side hadn't appeared yet.
The burly owner, holding the little boy in his arms, squinted and said, "Ken, is your pet
here? Why won't it come out?"
Ken's smile remained unchanged, and he coolly uttered, "I think it's better to let your muscle-bound
pet see more of this world."
The owner's eyes narrowed, and the little boy in his arms bit his lower lip, forcefully suppressing a scream that threatened to escape his lips.
I saw blood seeping from the lower half of the beautiful little boy's body.
The entire factory-sized space suddenly fell silent, as if
a soundproof glass dome had been placed next to everyone's ears, silencing every sound.
Ken shouted, "My darling, you're finally out!"
I was forced to look at the person who appeared at the other door of the cage.
I couldn't even tell if she was human. I felt I only saw two colors, red and white.
Red hair reaching her feet, white body covered in wounds—knives, fire, whips, chains.
Only her lower body was wrapped in a cloth, and on her long left thigh was a strange symbol branded like that of an animal
. A row of letters was tattooed on her small, firm breasts, like those of a little girl. Too far away to see clearly,
it was probably something like "beast."
She was very tall, and at first she crawled out, like a reptile, hands on the ground,
kneeling, crawling out of her cage under the gaze of others, and into the larger cage. In the larger cage, it was just her and
him. She seemed not quite understanding what was happening, struggling to look up at her towering, giant-like opponent. Then she slowly
crawled to the edge, gripping the wire with one hand, and slowly and laboriously stood up, like a child
learning to walk.
Number Thirteen felt insulted. He was a powerful beast, his name
a testament to his achievements, his pride. But now he had to face this bitch who couldn't even walk properly. He
was enraged, raising his hands and roaring.
His master regained his pride, mocking Ken, saying, "Did your bitch sleep with too many male dogs last night?
She looks like this.
" Ken smiled mysteriously, as kind as a priest. He said, "I will forgive your words. I believe
you are just ignorant."
You…
squeezed my neck harder, bringing my head to the center of the cage,
whispering in my ear, “Look, open your eyes wide and remember this scene, such a beautiful scene. Even God
won’t forgive you for missing it.”
A man walked up to the top of the cage, opened a small opening, squatted down, and whipped
the red-haired female beast below. The man seemed trained; each whip hit the female beast without fail
, the cracking sound like oil, making the eyes of those around him blaze in the fiery jungle
. The female beast looked up at him, only shrinking back when the whip struck her, but not flinching.
Kill! Kill! Tear her apart, bite her, fuck her!
Thirteen’s eyes blazed with fury, his thick legs stomping heavily on the floor, stained with countless drops of blood and black spots
, as he walked step by step toward her.
Thirteen roared, "This female beast, I'm going to tear her thighs apart! I...
it all happened in an instant. I opened my eyes wide but couldn't see what was happening. Only Ken knew
, Ken panting excitedly, as excited as a beast about to climax.
He said, 'My baby, really my baby.'
I only saw that red, like a ball of fire, suddenly streak across the sky, and in the blink of an eye, it pounced
on Thirteen, who was walking towards her, and then retreated in an instant. When Thirteen's huge body fell, it made
a deafening crash, but no one could explain what happened in that instant.
The staff calmly opened the door, dragged Thirteen by his legs, and pulled him out of the cage, still groaning in pain,
like dragging a pig to the slaughterhouse.
The female beast squatted in the corner, blood still dripping from her mouth. Upon closer inspection, it was fresh blood. She bit a few times
, her white canine teeth like sharp blades chewing up the flesh and blood, which was immediately spat onto the ground, seemingly because it
didn't suit her taste."
She crawled aimlessly in the cage, along the edge, occasionally looking up at the
people high above, screaming and going into a frenzy.
I saw her eyes, clear as a child's, even with blood still lingering at her lips.
Just now, she had killed someone, but I didn't know what she had done. Perhaps she was simply regretting that
the prey she had killed today didn't suit her taste.
I felt a chill run down my spine. Suddenly, Ken pushed me out of the railing, grabbed my neck, and
suspended my upper body from the waist in mid-air, making me scream in resistance.
I waved my hands futilely, shouting, "Don't kill me!"
Behind me, Ken laughed heartily, taking pleasure in my fear.
The female beast in the cage suddenly looked up, her bright eyes, like those of glass I'd seen as a child
, staring straight at me. Suddenly, she clung desperately to the wire, barely managing to stand upright, stretching out her hand to reach
me. My long hair was disheveled in the air. She climbed the sharp wire, ignoring the bloodstains on her body from the cuts
, until she reached the top, her hand reaching out from the top of the cage, grabbing my hair tightly. As
her body finally gave way and she fell, a few strands of my hair were ripped off.
I screamed in pain.
Ken pulled me back, stroking my face, saying, "Good job, baby. I think I gave you
too much of a treat this time."
The female beast below, clutching my golden hair, opened her mouth wide, letting out wolf-like howls. Each howl
was sharper and more mournful than the last.
I didn't know what was happening, just staring blankly at Ken's face. When
E
returned, there was another car, one with bulletproof glass in the back.
Upon arriving at the villa, Ken pushed a huge cage covered in black cloth into his room. After they all left,
he lifted the cloth in front of me, revealing the anesthetized mother beast inside.
Completely anesthetized, she was curled up in a ball, her naked body like
that of a newborn child, her red hair wrapped like a blanket around her.
Looking at her up close, I noticed the sheer number of wounds on her body, layered upon layer, like deep furrows
etched into her skin.
Three blood-red gashes on her back ran along her spine, almost exposing her bone. I
couldn't help but cover my mouth, suppressing the scream that threatened to burst forth.
Ken squinted, pacing back and forth, looking at her, then suddenly looked up and said, "Beautiful, isn't it?"
I nodded stiffly.
He put his arm around me and led me to his wide sofa. Opposite us was a huge screen.
Ken used to like sitting there with me, watching videos of me being tortured, licking my ear and
saying, "Baby, look at you, you're practically dying of pleasure."
The death was real, but the pleasure was impossible.
He pressed the remote control, and I saw only darkness, with a small dot of light nearby—it looked like someone was
smoking. A man's voice came through, saying, "Time to wake our baby to pee, or it'll be too late."
Hahaha…
Suddenly, the sound of a whip cracking through the air pierced the silence, landing heavily on flesh. Several whimpers of pain escaped. 　　The men laughed, saying, "Oh, get up, time for exercise. " The sound of the whip
cracking 　　grew more frequent; it was clear it wasn't just one man whipping. The sound rose and fell, and 　　the heartbreaking whimpers grew louder. I even heard the heavy thud of the cage. 　　In the darkness, was a wounded soul searching for a way out? 　　No… I cried out. 　　Ken didn't blame me for my abruptness. He smiled and said, "This is footage from ten years ago. My darling was only ten years old, such a 　　cute little beast, her red hair like fire, her body so tender it made you want to devour her." 　　I felt so cold, so cold I shivered and couldn't help but curl up into a ball. 　　"Come on, look at what my darling was like when she was fifteen. Back then, she was as beautiful as an invincible goddess." 　　The screen lit up briefly, then suddenly went dark again. 　　The man's voice was filled with fear as he cautiously said, "Boss, do we really have to do this? 　　This is an order from above. 　　But, didn't you see that person in front? So horrible, bitten beyond recognition. 　　" "Get out, you son of a bitch, do you have a problem with what's coming up?" 　　No… 　　There was a moment of silence, then the sound of sticks hitting flesh, the chains rattling from the violent struggle 　　. Suddenly, a huge, beast-like roar erupted, deep and resonant like an enraged female beast. 　　The man's terrified screams, amplified by the speakers, sounded like ghosts, countless ghosts 　　weeping in my ears. I felt as if I were hearing the sounds of hell. 　　"You fucking..." another man cursed hatefully. Suddenly, the screen lit up, revealing a 　　ball of red flame engulfing the man in uniform, pinning him down with her hands and feet, her mouth gnawing at his 　　face. The man's face was a bloody mess, and he weakly cried out, "Save me! You 　　can do whatever you want to me from behind, save me!" 　　The strong man standing by the switch tightened the heavy chain around the female beast's neck, 　　dragging her, who still refused to let go, to a corner, her hands and feet chained to the wall. The camera focused on that face, fiercely staring at 　　the people walking by, her amber eyes gleaming as if saying, "Blood, I want blood." 　　She 　　stayed in Ken's room. Ken had specially reserved this corner of his room for her 　　enormous cage; she was like a domesticated pet, a dangerous, savage, yet beautiful pet. 　　Ken liked to squat in front of the cage and throw her raw meat through the holes—fresh, still-bleeding pieces 　　cut from calves—his own hands would toss them in, watching her pounce, catch them, and devour them with her sharp canine teeth 　　. If she wasn't full, she would growl softly, a hungry growl emanating from her throat. 　　She was God's most satisfying masterpiece, wasn't she? Ken pulled me to the cage, making me look at 　　her so closely. 　　The huge chain around her neck was pulled to its limit by his hands, forcing the mother animal's face against the iron bars. Her

Her face was stuck against the iron bars, unable to break free, only able to bare her teeth and roar like a wild beast.
She was powerless against Ken, who was right in front of her.
Ken watched with satisfaction as she was trapped, her claws outstretched but helpless.
He commanded me to touch her.
No, I refused; she was a dangerous beast.
Touch her! Ken said sternly.
I swallowed hard, but I couldn't refuse Ken. God knows, if she really bit me, it would only be
for a moment, at most my hand would be crippled. But if I resisted Ken, he would kill me,
using all sorts of horrific methods, making my death beautiful and desperate. I believed Ken would do it, and had the ability
and means to do so.
I couldn't control my trembling hand; it had its own consciousness, as if it had its own
brain in my hand, now sending out danger signals. My brain received them, but they were blocked by another, more powerful
consciousness, because I wanted my own life.
My fingertips stopped when they touched her long, fiery red hair. I froze,
my eyes tightly shut, not wanting to watch my hand being bitten and mangled by her sharp, inhuman teeth, like
beef sliced by a dull knife.
But the pain didn't return for a long time. I opened my eyes in confusion and saw that
the expression of the previously enraged beast had become tamed. If that was taming in human terms, her
expression was gentle, almost childlike obedience. Although she was still pulling hard on her chain, forcing her
head against the iron bars, her beautiful, clear eyes stared at me, and I could
clearly see my reflection in her pupils.
She obediently quieted down.
I grew bolder, a strange feeling that she wouldn't hurt me. I moved my hand a few inches forward, to the top of her head, and
pressed it against hers, suddenly saying, "Good girl."
The beast's pupils contracted instantly, its eyes changed, and it reached out from behind the bars, grabbing my hand tightly and
dragging me closer with a force more terrifying than any man's.
I screamed in terror, yelling, "Ken, save me! She's going to eat me!"
Ken laughed maniacally, his entire body jiggling with fat, making me believe I'd never have to
watch pigs laugh again.
Ken loosened the chains, grabbed a black stun gun from the side, and struck her hand gripping me hard.
She released her grip in pain, but let out a defiant roar.
My legs went weak with fear, and I collapsed to the ground, reaching up to find my face covered in sweat. I knew my
form must have completely melted.
Ken walked around the cage with the stun gun, striking the beast whenever it came within range,
laughing maniacally as he heard the sizzling of the electrodes and the beast's cries of pain.
The beast frantically darted around in its cage, unaware that the cage's size meant it
could be easily attacked from anywhere. Its body resembled that of a twenty-year-old woman, but its mind was that of an undeveloped
wild beast, knowing nothing. All it could do was hide and let out pointless roars.
Why? Looking at the beast in the cage, I felt a pang of heartache, as if needles were
piercing my heart, which I thought was already dead, until I saw only a few soft pieces of flesh remaining
, raw and mangled.
My mouth tasted bitter; I licked it and found tears—tears I thought only appeared during acts
. Now, they flowed for a beast I had no connection with. And she even tried to hurt me.
Ken, panting, walked to my side, squatted down, a triumphant expression on his kind face,
a haughty grandeur. "
She's a beast, not a human, you know that, you bitch." Ken lifted my chin and said. "
I know." I obediently nodded, tears still streaming down my face, unstoppable. I thought my body was
completely under my control, because it was my survival instinct. Beside a dangerous man,
I couldn't laugh when I cried; if I laughed, I wouldn't want to see tomorrow's sun. But now I discovered that
those useless emotions still lingered within me.
Ken was satisfied with my performance, as docile as a kitten waiting to be petted. "
Joe, now you're her mother. I'll bring you to see her every day. Are you happy?" Ken stuck out his
disgusting tongue, leaving a trail of liquid on my face, a mixture of cigar, red wine, and the man's scent. He licked his lips
, seemingly pleased with the taste of my tears.
I was stunned. I couldn't understand Ken's meaning. Ken wanted me to watch a beast being abused, to suffer, and then to enjoy
that pain, finding pleasure in it.
Ken was a pervert; his brain, toes, and even his half-formed manhood were covered in
disgusting maggots, deformed and repulsive.
That
night, Ken never took me to his
basement again, which was filled with whips, chains, sticks, and all sorts of torture instruments—some I'd seen before, some I'd never seen before, each one chilling. He moved the torture to
his room, right in front of the beast. In front of her, he displayed his exquisite and
creative methods of torture on me.
I only dared to close my eyes, begging for mercy incessantly. I knew he loved hearing my cries of submission; those pitiful,
trembling sounds from a woman unable to bear the pain were his source of ecstasy. He wanted to see
me cry, to see me scream, to see me beg him to stop like a raped virgin. Only then would he stop, giving me
the last breath to live.
Sometimes I really wondered if that bitch-son-of-a-pig tortured me so much because I had slept with his
mother and family in a past life, that he hated me so much, finding relief only in seeing me suffer.
He doted on me, but it wasn't my honor. I was the only one left to torture; I wouldn't be enough for
him to play with even if I had several lives. I need to save money for the rest of my life, and I have things to do,
things I must accomplish in my life. So I don't want to die like this, whipped or hanging in mid-air like those waiting to be...
He died like a piece of pork being sold.
I wondered why he didn't go to someone else. Maybe he was afraid other women would find out. After all,
it's shameful for a boss to be impotent. I'd already experienced his punishment—not a single survivor. Everyone
who knew the secret disappeared, leaving only me, Mike, and himself.
But he didn't kill me. Even after I revealed his secret, he didn't kill me; he just made me
a corpse in bed for a month.
Ken, no one will ever understand the bloodthirsty smile beneath his priestly expression. I was just
a whore for his pleasure in bed, so I'd better obediently be my inflatable doll, know nothing,
and live longer, so I can take a lot of money and do what I've always wanted to do.
Including why he tortured the beast and me in front of me.
My scalp felt like it was being torn apart by his grip, the gap between my skin and skull widening.
I was forced to raise my head high, like a fish desperately trying to lift its head. My lower body was pinned beneath him
, while my upper body was forced upright, my spine curving into a near-circular arc, the curvature constantly widening
. I screamed, "It hurts so much!"
Ken was on top of me, straddling my body, one hand gripping my hair, forcing me to look directly at
the beast in the cage opposite me, struggling to break free. Her expression was filled with ferocious bloodlust,
her long red hair flying through the air with each impact. My eyes, filled with pain, were covered in tears. Through the tears
, I saw those eyes; she was looking at me, wanting to save me. Ken's other hand twisted and pushed the two
wooden sticks inserted into my body, causing my body to scream in agony, as if it were about to be torn apart and pierced.
I cried, "I'm going to die, let me go, don't do this to me..."
Ken's heavy body, almost flattening my buttocks, moved on top of me. I felt his incomplete
thing rubbing against my skin, making me feel like my flesh was being corroded, rotten to the core
. "
Bitch..." he panted.
Waaaaah... My tears flowed like a river, down my face, along my neck, and
down, mixing with my sweat, dripping onto the black sheets, seeping into them, leaving a stain that disappeared
.
The beast's body was covered in blood from struggling. Her hands gripped the railing tightly, her whole body tense, the
exposed wounds undulating. She gritted her teeth, making muffled
sounds from her violently trembling throat. What could she be calling out?
What word was it? I tried desperately to hear, but the intense pain was like a black cloth, obscuring my
consciousness. My vision blurred, and the scene before me faded into patches of color. The burning red
flame suddenly grew larger, surging towards me.
"You son of a bitch!" Before losing consciousness, I cursed Ken, that perverted castrator, with hatred. "I must have killed
his mother in my past life for him to treat me so cruelly, using such a twisted method.
"
I woke up in agony, my entire body feeling as if it had been pierced by a huge, sharp stick, worse than menstrual cramps
. When I opened my eyes, I saw the sky above me divided into
sections by bars, feeling like I was in a cage. "What is that dead pig trying to do now?" I thought bitterly.
My senses returned, and all the discomfort that had been outside the pain rushed back at me. The sticky skin
made me feel like I was stuck in glue, and the pain in my lower body reminded me of my first abortion
. I thought I was going to die. On that white operating table, my thighs were strapped to the frame, and
the cold metal probed and hurt me from the inside out. I
was just a child then, crying like an idiot, asking the doctor if I was going to die, if I would bleed to
death like this. The doctor mechanically repeated the same words he'd said to all the girls lying on that bed: "You'll be alright
, trust me."
Trust me, my ass! That quack doctor was a complete scumbag. He almost killed me. When I was
bleeding profusely at home, staining my landlord's bed with blood, the disgusted landlord finally called an ambulance and took me
to the hospital. The doctor said I would never be able to have children. So be it. No children? No
children. Those in this line of work suffer enough. Unlike that damned woman who gave birth to me, whose life consisted of nothing but
sex, finding men, doing drugs, and having children, only to neglect them after they were born, letting those who wanted to die die, showing they weren't
destined to see this glamorous yet corrupt world. Those who wanted to live continued what they did,
living like her, continuing to revolve around sex, men, and drugs.
I could clearly feel those two things still inside my two holes, inserted too deeply, seemingly
bleeding. Wounds had been violently inflicted, burning with desire. That beast was determined
to kill me; this time, he didn't even find a doctor, just shoved me into a cage to suffer the pain to death.
Thinking of all my money, all my jewelry, I felt resentful. Damn it, I risked my life
to earn so much money, and now I have nothing? I'd rather go to hell than accept this.
I tried to pull them out, but found my body as limp as candy, utterly
powerless.
A long sigh escaped my lips. I closed my eyes, and a sudden calm settled over me. I thought, "This time I'm really going to meet
God. I really need to ask Him if my sins have truly accumulated so much that I deserve such a terrible
death.
" I bit my lower lip, tears welling up uncontrollably.
Suddenly, a warm, wet touch touched my face, and I felt her breath on my cheek. I opened my eyes and saw
her face pressed against mine. She licked away the tears from the corners of my eyes. Then she squatted there
, looking at me curiously, reminding me of a puppy's curiosity about a new toy. "
Damn it, why is it you who's going to die with me?" I said with a bitter smile.
She tilted her head, her eyes scanning my naked, exhausted, and nearly crippled body. I felt...
My body felt like a roast suckling pig on a dinner table. Back in nightclubs, those Asian women from Japan offered
that kind of service—lying naked and motionless on tables, covered in food for the men
to eat, their beautiful bodies like containers.
Now, I could almost do that myself; the thought of myself made me laugh. Maybe I could even make some extra
money.
The beast circled me, sniffing me from time to time.
I said, "What are you going to do? Want to eat me? I'm not tasty, not clean at all, no meat, eating me will give you
diarrhea. Let's make a deal, you eat Ken, okay? He's tastier than me."
The beast just looked up, tilting her head to look at me, as if trying to decipher the meaning of my words. Then she continued her
act of examining the food.
She stopped between my limp, spread legs. She bent down, kneeling, her head close to my still-
bleeding lower body. I struggled to lift my head and saw her moving closer, and hurriedly cried out, "No, no!"
"You beast, what are you doing?"
I tried to grab her beautiful, fiery hair and pull her head away, but my hands seemed to have vanished,
unable to feel anything. Helplessly, I looked up at the ceiling separated by iron bars, thinking despondently, "Just
eat me like this. Maybe when Ken comes back, he'll see her devour my body piece by piece, leaving only my lower
leg bones, her mouth still chewing my flesh." The thought of this scene,
the horrific and bloody images I'd seen in movies, now excited me. For
someone like me, on the verge of despair, this kind of death was a beautiful release. My blood flowed into hers, my flesh
was digested in her stomach, becoming a part of her, and she became a part of me. Was that the continuation of life? At that
moment, I felt like a philosopher.
Besides the burning sensation in my lower body, a different kind of pleasure suddenly came, like warm water
gently washing over that place, soothing the pain and wounds.
I propped myself up on my elbows and saw her kneeling between my legs, which I couldn't close, her
soft, wet tongue licking there.
My genitals, unable to close because of the enormous rod, were like a huge, greedy mouth, never
satisfied, demanding more from the world. They were now bleeding and weeping from the violence, red like rose
petals. Her curiosity about my genitals perhaps stemmed from the unknown; her intellect
was forever stuck at the blank memory of a five-year-old. Now, she
was curious about female organs she possessed but didn't understand—perhaps it was blood. She was a primal animal, experiencing the world through her nose and taste,
and my blood stimulated her. I understood, of course I understood, damn it, because this curious exploration
sent waves of pleasure through my body, like waves crashing against the shore, making my body unconsciously
stretch, soften, and slowly melt. I felt like that fine Swiss milk chocolate, 　　melting under
the soft, controlled, curious tongue of that carnivorous animal . 　　Mmm…faster! I gently swayed my body, using the power stirring within me 　　to adjust my movements and moans. 　　I encouraged her, though I knew this beast, whose only physical form was human, might not understand my 　　sensual moans. 　　Her face drew close, her breath on my skin, the stimulating sensation making me want to inhale deeply, to 　　breathe comfortably. I raised my hand and placed it limply on her head, her hair beneath my fingers, my 　　fingertips running through it, stretching and tightening with her movements. Her head rose and fell between my legs, my 　　hand following her movements, applying slight pressure where I liked, letting her know my feelings. 　　When my whole body went limp, like a soft-bodied mollusk that had been ripped from its shell, I lay paralyzed on the ground, 　　my mouth open as if only able to gasp for the oxygen that sustained me, sweet moans escaping my nose, my 　　flat stomach heaving violently. I've forgotten when I last experienced this kind of pleasure. After doing 　　that, every time it's just about making the man happy. I only feel like an 　　inflatable doll making all sorts of moaning sounds, not a woman incredibly sexy in sexual desire. 　　My eyes were half-closed, and I felt myself about to climax under that powerful, wet licking. My hands 　　gripped her long hair tightly, my body tense, my legs trying to clamp her head shut, welcoming the impending 　　peak of death in this tense posture. 　　Ah 　　! Damn it, damn it! I felt like I'd suddenly fallen from the highest peak into the Atlantic Ocean. The expected 　　pleasure didn't come; the pain in my body left me completely paralyzed. 　　Damn it. I opened my tear-blurred eyes and saw the beast with its legs apart, its mouth biting the blood-stained 　　rod soaked with my bodily fluids, its innocent eyes looking at my sudden, inexplicable anger. 　　I was so angry I wanted to explode, but I was helpless. I didn't even have the strength to roar anymore. I could only bluff and 　　say, "Couldn't you have waited a bit longer? I'm almost there! God, you're guilty! You've taken 　　me from heaven to hell, do you know that?" 　　She flung the stick in her mouth aside. The stick clanged against the iron bars, 　　snapping me out of my daze. 　　I covered my eyes with my hands, muttering, "God, what am I doing? I'm asking a beast 　　to give me an orgasm. I think I must be going crazy from wanting a man. Yes, I must have been turned into a pervert by that freak Ken." 　　At that moment, that damn wonderful feeling came again. I saw her lower her head again, this time licking 　　my anus—oh, no, to put it more elegantly, the place for excretion. God, this is 　　the place I find most unacceptable. I gently pushed her away, saying, "No, this won't do, really, baby. This 　　is bad behavior. I promise I'll teach you properly from now on, really." 　　Her unexpected persistence prevented her from pushing my weak hand away; instead, she stubbornly kept her head down. 　　I felt like I was about to cry; in fact, tears were indeed welling up in my eyes, clearly visible.

The steady, warm liquid swirled and flowed in my eyes, finally sliding down
my face along the tear at the corner of my eye.
She used her teeth to pull out the stick that had pierced my wound, then tossed it aside
. She slowly climbed onto me, supporting herself with her hands, hovering over me, watching me.
Her red hair cascaded down, the color of flames giving me warmth; it must be burning,
burning forever.
She bent down and rubbed her face against mine, wiping away my tears. She reminded me of a
cat I had as a child, with soft white fur streaked with brown. When that woman locked me in that cramped,
dark basement, it would appear beside me, its small, warm body leaping
into my arms to give me warmth and comfort. Perhaps, to me, only humans are the most dangerous animals—selfish, greedy
, obsessed with money and power, willing to harm anything that isn't their own, not just for survival. Class and status, dividing into
ranks, one layer pressing down on another…
She raised her hand, wanting to wipe away my blurred tears, but didn't know how to use her primate's agile
limbs. I think her most proficient feature was perhaps her tongue, the most evolved trait of a carnivore, as
could be seen from her earlier actions. And her teeth—they could bite through flesh, find those
still surging arteries, and then bite them open, just like hunting prey.
I seriously doubt if that beast Ken raised her with wolves. Her behavior and killing movements
were swift and fierce, just like a beautiful red-furred wolf. It made one feel that even murder could be beautiful.
She was God's most beautiful masterpiece, Ken said, and I have to admit, Ken
had a good eye in this regard. He discovered a unique creation in the world, and then cruelly molded
her, keeping her a wildness that had long since disappeared.
You are such an unfortunate child. I raised my hand and gently stroked her head.
She seemed to hear some familiar words, and a light flashed in her eyes, the light of human wisdom.
Like a child, she rested her head against my chest, mumbling the murmurs I had heard countless times
.
This time, I heard it clearly. She was saying, "Mama, Mama..."
At this moment, I heard Ken's voice. He was saying, "What a happy scene, it's enough to make one want to cry, isn't
it?"
I saw him sitting on a comfortable sofa that looked newly moved in, with an ice
bucket on a small coffee table next to him, and a half-empty bottle of beer outside. He was shaking the amber liquid in his hand, smiling at me. Behind
him, the red light of a camera flickered.
Damn, his tastes were as usual.
"Feeling good, doesn't it, dear mother?" he said softly.
The beast crawled in front of me, blocking my way. Behind her, I saw the muscles in her back tense, turning into
a beast in battle mode.
Ken laughed loudly and said, "Look at them, how wonderful, a bitch's mother and a
beast's daughter, hahaha..."
I had a feeling that what he said wasn't just directed at me; he was venting his anger by insulting me.
There was someone else standing behind me, she was the source of everything.
"Baby, you've had your sweet taste, time to perform." Ken suddenly narrowed his eyes, his voice hard and cruel
.
Several men armed with guns emerged from behind and approached the cage. Before the beast could react, they
fired several shots at her. I heard a muffled groan as she was shot; her body nearly collapsed, but she held
on, using her remaining strength to growl softly at them. "
A very energetic beast, we'll see how you perform. Don't disappoint me, baby." Ken took
the gun from the man next to him and fired the final shot. The beast's body shuddered a few times and fell.
"Ah…" I screamed, struggling to sit up, wanting to touch her body to see if it was still warm.
Ken shook his head and said, "Don't be afraid, how could I hurt her? She's just sleeping peacefully. Look,
isn't she adorable when she sleeps? She's our child, how could I bear to hurt her?"
Ken's words made me wonder if he was out of his mind. His eyes were somewhat erratic, looking through my body
at someone else.
After a moment, Ken paused, his usual seemingly priest-like benevolent smile returning. He gently
said to the veterinarian behind him, responsible for caring for and training the animal, "It seems her resistance to the medication has increased. You need to
keep a close eye on her; I don't want to have to feed my darling so much sugar syrup every time I take her out. You understand?"
The veterinarian nodded respectfully and said, "Pets' immunity and resistance have exceeded human limits, beyond
our imagination. Perhaps we can dissect her carefully and study her thoroughly." As he spoke,
a fanatical fire ignited behind the veterinarian's glasses, as if this would be the greatest discovery in human history. "
She's my darling," Ken said in a low voice. These words poured ice water on the veterinarian, who was lost in his own fantasy
. The veterinarian's expression was overwhelmed with frustration. He turned to look at the unconscious animal, his greedy eyes like
those of a starving beast eyeing a plump lamb. "I believe that sometimes humans are more terrifying than wild beasts.
As her mother, you should also be watching her amazing performance, shouldn't you?" "Get up quickly, don't
show your slutty body to others. Those people are just looking at you and want to fuck
you, and they won't pay you." Ken glanced at me, his mocking eyes making me
furious.
I glared at him and said, "If it were a handsome young man, I'd be willing." " You
really are a bitch." Ken snorted disdainfully, then put his arm around my shoulder and said, "But I just
love you like this. You're the most beautiful bitch in the world. Baby, I've found myself loving
you like this almost to the point of madness.
" "Pervert." That's what I thought to myself.
J.
It was the same place, the place where the beast was first brought out to meet this group of drug addicts who had gone mad and
were being stared at like an animal in a zoo.
Ken's Kingdom, his jungle.
Having learned their lesson, when the final act featured a beast and a hungry grizzly bear, everyone
gasped, then erupted in excited shouts of "Hooray!"
They anticipated the beautiful scene to come—either the massive, destructive grizzly bear
dying like the poor, clueless fellow from last time—thirteen was a bad number, now they understood.
They'd heard that the unfortunate brother had his carotid artery severed, and even the best doctors
could only shake their heads, saying, "The boss will have to spend more money on a burial plot; if he's merciful, he should at least get a
coffin. "
Or perhaps the beautiful female beast would be torn to shreds by the ferocious grizzly bear. They loved the cruel and
bloody scenes, because it wasn't them dying.
The air was thick with the mingled scents of hallucinogens, perfume, lust, ambition, and money, like a giant
junkyard, a junkyard that was still breathing.
I sat down next to Ken, but the pain in my lower body prevented me from sitting properly.
I was restless, even more so than the caterpillars.
Ken puffed on a pungent cigar from Cuba, watching the carnage in the cages below through the billowing smoke.
One after another, they died. Each fight had only one way to survive:
either choose death and complain to God about the injustice, or kill the other, survive, strangle, bite—countless savage and bloody
ways to die were permitted here.
The dead were simply dragged away and buried. There was no shortage of such pets here, no shortage of such people in this world. A few more or a few
less wouldn't matter. Living meant having beautiful women and money, and most importantly, the chance to enjoy
the rewards from their masters. The prize money from each competition would accumulate, but no one could enjoy Thirteen's
prize: the status of a free man. Those people all died in Thirteen's place, the new replacing the old, only to be
pushed into hell by those who came after. This was the real jungle, a cruel and real existence in this world.
The last one, Thirteen, had his artery severed by a beast. There's no shortage of people like that here; many more will
emerge from this cage, its floor forever stained with blood, to deliver their spectacular performances.
Below the arena are two pets brought by other owners. It's clear their training isn't as perfect or
inhumane as Ken's; at least they resemble boxing warriors rather than crazed beasts in a gladiatorial arena. "
This performance is too boring," the big shots complained. No death, no bloodshed, just utterly tasteless,
like entering an old prostitute's den—no enjoyment whatsoever.
Ken stood up, took the pistol from his subordinate, and fired a few shots into the cage. The entire place instantly fell silent
. Countless eyes were fixed on him in the center. He said, "The rule here is that only the strongest of the two
can leave alive. Now, you have a choice: either kill the other and live to find your own pleasure
, or you all die inside."
After a while, a cacophony of noise erupted from the jungle. The men's enthusiasm burned like a raging fire
. The two pets in the cage finally realized their purpose: to provide amusement for these people. If
they didn't do a good job, they were just a pile of trash, and might even become bullet holes.
They killed with abandon, using their hands, feet, teeth, and even their own heads to kill their opponents as much as possible.
Finally, one of them successfully killed its opponent, smothering him with its rear end. It sat on the bear's face,
letting it struggle beneath it.
Ken frowned and said, "God, this is the most horrible way I've ever seen die. Did he wipe his butt in the toilet?"
I realized then that Ken had a real sense of humor, but unfortunately, I didn't appreciate it.
Next was the beast. When the carefully selected, hungry, dangerously aggressive, and bloodthirsty
grizzly bear was herded into the cage, the men even shouted, "Cool!"
They thought the upcoming scene would satisfy them.
The beast climbed into the cage as before, its long hair flowing, completely naked, its tattoos under the spotlight
like mysterious incantations.
At first, she stayed far away from the bear, in a corner, her eyes filled with confusion as she looked at
the distorted faces of those who held her fate in their hands, then at the roaring grizzly bear. I thought the dose of anesthetic was too strong;
she was too conscious to even muster the strength to be defensive or aggressive towards the world.
I was worried about her. A voice inside me screamed, "Be careful, don't die,
don't let it kill you!"
Kenle's eyes were narrowed to slits, almost invisible hidden in his pile of fat.
He grabbed my chin, making me look at him, and said, "Want to add some excitement?"
I knew what he meant, like those men saying, "Oh, darling, just one hit, and you'll be happily
in heaven."
I refused. I said, "I hate drugs. That woman, that woman's daughter and son, all
treated themselves like commodities because of drugs."
"No, you're wrong, baby. This isn't a drug, it's a pleasure potion that will give you countless orgasms. You
'll like it. Our baby needs your encouragement, doesn't she?"
Before I could even react, someone grabbed my arm and injected a blue liquid into it.
I couldn't quite describe what it was, but it looked like a hallucinogenic drug, causing
excitement and distorted hallucinations.
My body was burning; a fire was raging inside me, burning every cell,
spreading through my nerves, making me feel like I was about to catch fire. The feeling was very similar to sexual desire.
Damn it, it's an aphrodisiac. What is he trying to do? Make me perform something explicit right there? That pervert. I half-
closed my eyes, cursing countless times in my mind. The burning pleasure was driving me to the brink of collapse; my whole body was in a
state of being overwhelmed by both death and pleasure.
My reason began to blur, and the people in front of me transformed into what I wanted to see—obscene
and stimulating things.
I gripped the bars, looking down at everything in the cage below. The bear, provoked by the people outside, had begun to...
In attack mode, she stood up, taller than a person, her front paws flying through the air, while the beast could only nimbly
dodge. Her body was as agile as a squirrel, darting up and down in the cage, her long red hair rising and falling like
a giant, burning fireball streaking across the starry sky.
The heat in my body tormented me; my fingers gripped the bars tightly, and I
shouted at the beast below, slammed to the wire by the bear's powerful claws, "Kill it! Kill that beast! Bite it to death! Hurry!"
The combined effects of lust and drugs drove me mad and irrational; all I could see was one
color—fiery red.
In the end, I couldn't say much more, only repeatedly shouting, "Kill it! Kill it!"
The others, as if on drugs, waved their hands frantically, their eyes bloodshot,
screaming loudly. Finally, the only sound in the entire massive factory was the same rhythm: "Kill it!
Kill it!"
The beast staggered to its feet, glanced at me, and suddenly let out a loud roar, charging swiftly towards the
bear charging towards it.
The bear was now even more dangerous; the scent of blood on the beast's body stimulated its hungry stomach.
It was now ready to tear its prey apart to fill its belly.
A red flame traced a graceful arc through the air, lingering on the bear's back, its paws gripping the fur.
The bear thrashed about, trying to throw her off, but it was futile; her grip didn't loosen for a moment
.
As the bear, panting and irritably carrying her back and forth in the cage, the beast suddenly slammed its elbow into
the bear's neck and spine. The bear roared in pain, the sound echoing for a long time.
The beast didn't stop, relentlessly striking its spine with its elbow until its massive body suddenly collapsed to
the ground, turning into a heap of flesh as if its spine had lost its support.
The beast's hand cradled its head, twisting it at a horrible angle with a snap. Its spine was
completely broken, and the beast had perfectly killed its monstrous enemy.
Everyone erupted in screams and shouts. I clung to the railing, panting heavily. My body
had just barely survived; the beast's perfect performance made my body tremble uncontrollably, emitting sexy screams.
The beast walked in front of me, crouching in a wolfhound-like posture, its eyes looking up at me from above. The bloodthirsty savagery from before was gone from her eyes
; now she was just a cute child.
"Baby, I think you want a reward, don't you?" Ken said with a satisfied expression…
He grabbed my arm and ordered his men to take my limp body away. I wanted to ask where they were taking me,
but only broken groans escaped my lips.
Ken glanced around, and amidst the curious stares of others, said, "Now, my little kitten has decided
to reward the excellent beast with her own body. I think this will be a performance that everyone will find exciting."
Amidst the cheers of everyone, he turned to me and said, "Do your best, baby."
"Beast," I cursed.
My world spun, the dizziness lasting until I was thrown into the cage. My body
was tossed to the ground like a rag doll, the blood from the previous battles still fresh. I struggled to open my eyes to look at the ceiling;
the hanging light shone brighter than the sun, stinging my eyes. Tormented by the surging
waves within me, I lost the courage to argue. Now, I only wanted to do what I wanted, even if it
would feel unbearable when I woke up. But, since I'm a whore, shouldn't I be professional
?
I reached out and embraced the head of the docile beast beside me, saying, "I need you."
The
beast didn't understand. Her mind was blank. What a good child, forever retaining such a pure blue sky, unaware of money, power, desire, or ambition. She only 　　needed
to let her teeth control her body . 　　My burning fingers traced her eyes; they were so deep and clean. She had 　　the eyes of a child who never grew up, always looking with curiosity at this filthy world that constantly hurt her. 　　She closed her eyes, indicating her liking for my touch. I looked up and saw those heads high above, a dark 　　mass stretching their long necks, their murky eyes oozing all sorts of colored spiderwebs. 　　What a world, worse than a whore's. They all deserve to die. I laughed. 　　My arms tightly encircled her head, pressing my entire body against hers. The rough, hard scars on her skin rubbed against mine, sending stimulating 　　signals 　　through every nerve . 　　Suddenly, I kissed her lips. I don't know why I kissed her; I thought kissing her would be 　　like kissing a wild beast, making me feel disgusted. Her lips were soft and warm. She just 　　stared blankly at me, right in front of her eyes, unaware of what I was doing. 　　I held her head and kissed her deeply. I said, "Mommy will teach you what love is." 　　She squinted, responding, I couldn't tell if it was to her mother or to the act of lovemaking. 　　My physical urges overwhelmed me, leaving me no time to consider whether this was right or wrong. As long as it was 　　pleasurable, wasn't that enough? 　　I kissed her while my hands caressed her thin, scarred body. Her reaction 　　was like that of a child being tickled, unaware that this was desire. She made soft murmurs, 　　her body trying to avoid me, but finally, I couldn't resist any longer and pressed my entire body against hers, 　　rubbing my burning body against hers with the heat that made me feel like I was dying. 　　She lay obediently beneath me, stretching out her body, her eyes looking at me as if asking, "What kind of 　　game is this?" 　　I moved and rubbed against her, my hands roaming up and down, caressing her firm, childlike 　　breasts, until I reached between her legs when she suddenly let out a long, thin whimper, like a puppy. 　　I suddenly felt the world spin around me, and my position was reversed from hers. She rolled over, pinning 　　me beneath her. She made a long, soft sound, low in her throat. I felt that sound...

The sound was beautiful, like a wolf courting its mate, calling out to her.
My hands stroked her shoulders; her skin had a fatal magnetism that made me want to
press myself against her, to find solace in her.
Indeed, a beast is a beast; it lacks human fancy techniques, only knowing how to lick. She
licked my face until it was covered in her saliva. I had nowhere to hide, so I just closed my eyes and let her lick my
face like it was candy. She liked my neck, I could tell; she licked it back and forth, even
biting and nibbling with her teeth—painful yet stimulating.
She sucked on my breasts like a baby, and she seemed curious about other parts of her body,
sucking, stroking, and pressing them forcefully. Perhaps her memories of this place were long gone, from her childhood
. It was just instinct, her human instinct.
My dazed eyes saw Ken above, looking down at the earth like a god. His expression
was blurred in my vision, just a blurry white halo. Those people—perhaps white or black faces, gold, black, or
gray hair—all vanished. Those excited or lewd sounds couldn't reach my ears anymore.
Now, I could only feel the beast.
She buried her head between my legs again, her novelty undiminished. I could only grab
her hair, tilt my head back, open my mouth wide, like a drowning person desperately sinking into water, gasping for
breath and screaming.
I wanted to make her a part of myself, gripping her tightly.
The drug's effects could last a long time. I had seen the merchants demonstrate it to Ken and
the scenes of them using it for amusement. A woman was injected with the drug, and then his men went one after another,
watching the almost carnal world unfold—overlapping, twisted, naked flesh—using it
as background music for their parties. The banquet lasted as long as the live carnal performance continued,
until the girl was completely unable to move and was finally taken away. They felt that necrophilia was meaningless.
I don't know how long the effects of the drug he gave me will last; at least for now, I'm under its control, and
it seems there's no end in sight.
Once again, I felt a release, lying helplessly on the ground. The coldness of the ground brought a slight clarity to my mind. My
chest ached from breathing heavily. I've never been so tired; all my strength had vanished, yet
I still felt something, that ravenous desire still raging within me. I think Ken is really going to play me to death like this
. He tormented me all night, and now, without even giving me a chance to rest, he's come up with this method.
In my brief moments of lucidity, I heard the excited cheers of those people, discussing, mocking, and ridiculing
this scene: two women, a human and a beast, a direct and lewd performance. Indeed, sex and blood
are things that can make one's blood boil. Therefore, many people enjoy cruel struggles, splattering blood, death
, and corpses. Some people enjoy lewd scenes.
In Ken's jungle, money can buy anything. This is the Third World he desires, a
world of desires that even God would envy.
The beast turned me over, making me support myself with my hands, like a female
wolf waiting to mate.
I'd seen the videos Ken showed me; he'd let her live with several wild wolves for a long time. She could howl like a wolf, hunt
and fight, and perhaps even learned how to mate.
Thinking about this, I found it funny. How could the beast forget that even as a wolf, she was still female?
Her hands were on my back, her lower body pressed against mine, and she began to slowly thrust. The absence of a man
's penis inside me made me feel safe, as if she were a completely safe and
gentle presence, someone who wouldn't hurt me, someone who wouldn't make me wary.
Her thrusts were initially gentle, her hips striking my lower body, like a tentative exploration.
I still didn't understand the meaning of this action; it was simply imitating her animal friends. She
was a complete blank about humans and sex.
Slowly, I began to feel pleasure. Her thrusts on my sensitive spots sent shivers down my spine, and I gritted
my teeth, suppressing the broken moans that escaped my lips.
I turned to look at the face of the beast clinging to my back. Her face was pressed against mine, allowing me to clearly see
her expression. I had seen countless men's expressions, those distorted faces twisted by desire,
but I had never seen a face that I found so endearing. Half-closed eyes, a distant gaze, a furrowed brow—this
feeling felt both strange and amusing. The whimpering sounds from her mouth made me feel like I was
making love to a wild animal. Suddenly, I didn't feel wronged anymore. This wasn't painful; it was better than 　　being tortured
by that perverted pig, Ken . 　　I actively sought to capture the sensation, even gripping her body tightly, wanting her closer. [ 　　Would adding some moaning sounds here be too lewd?] [Ah... um... faster, harder... huff... 　　I feel like I'm really writing a pornographic novel, so I've decided, this is it... I'm not writing this anymore." (Blushing, 　　not...) Her hair covered us, nestled between us, 　　creating a strange sensation as we rubbed against each other. 　　As the overwhelming pleasure surged, I impatiently reached down to touch myself, letting out a scream beneath her. 　　Huff… I breathed heavily, my hands went weak, and I almost collapsed forward, 　　falling heavily to the ground. 　　My body was wet and flushed, sweat clinging to my skin, forming droplets that mingled with 　　the blood on the floor. The rapid flow of blood made my body flush red. 　　I felt the beast's fingers tracing patterns on my back, 　　curious about the sweat and my protruding spine. 　　I suddenly remembered the way she had killed that bear, how she had broken its spine with her elbow from behind 　　. The thought sent chills down my spine; fear 　　gave me goosebumps.

Her fingers suddenly wandered to my neck, and my body reflexively turned and pushed her away.
She was pushed away by my sudden force, her hand still outstretched, her confused eyes asking, "What's wrong?"
At that moment, Ken suddenly clapped his hands and said, "Baby, you did a great job! Your performance was fantastic! Tonight
was going to be an incredibly exciting night, wasn't it? Did everyone enjoy it?"
The rest of the people responded loudly.
Blood was coursing through their veins; they needed to revel, to completely let loose.
Ken waved to them and said, "Everyone, have a great time tonight!"
Everyone, with their pets and toys, happily went to the underground kingdom of freedom Ken had prepared for them
to enjoy their night—decadent yet beautiful.
Everyone left, and the place, devoid of its noise and smells, became more like a coffin,
a place where death and life coexisted.
Ken leaned on the railing, slightly lowered his head, and said, "You seem to be enjoying yourself."
I looked up and said loudly, "She's better than you."
"Then enjoy the service she provides." Ken left us all there, turned, and left.
It was truly quiet here, so quiet that I thought all those people and scenes from before were just my hallucinations.
The effects of the drug continued to take hold, and I was once again dominated by it.
I held Beast, groaning loudly, deliberately so loudly. I needed Beast; she could give me pleasure and
what I wanted. I realized that at this moment, I truly couldn't live without her. Her gentleness, her obedience, her submission made me feel
that I could control her.
I liked Ken's arrangements more and more, even though he had ulterior motives I didn't know.
The
next morning, the effects of the drug finally wore off completely, and by then I was utterly exhausted
, curled up like a rag doll against Beast's legs.
Ken didn't come to take us away; only Beast and I were left in this place.
This prison, which could never shake off the nauseating smell of blood and the intertwined scent of desire, power, and money, with its
barbed wire and dark blood on the ground, was like the Colosseum in Rome. Back then, those
people were called slaves; now, they were called beasts.
The beast looked down at my face, her fingers tracing the curves of my features, seemingly searching for
something similar to something in her memory. She continued to mumble a vague word, "Mom." "You little beast, you don't think I'm your mother, do you?" "Huh? Baby, do you remember your mother?" I 　　asked, half-asleep,
too lazy to open my eyes. 　　The beast didn't understand me, still lost in her own thoughts. 　　She really was a wild animal. I felt a little helpless; she looked like a human, but couldn't speak human language. But 　　that was fine too; no one would know what I said. Humans were dangerous; they couldn't keep secrets and couldn't be trusted 　　. 　　But the beast was different; she understood nothing, like a quiet glass bottle, from which I could confidently confide 　　my secrets. 　　"Beast, isn't it a kind of happiness that you understand nothing?" I whispered, resting my head on her lap. 　　The beast lowered her head, her hair covering me, giving me a sense of warmth. " 　　All you know is killing and eating. You ignorant little beast, maybe you're doing much better than humans. 　　Where's your mother?" Was she killed by that bastard Ken? How did she die? Was she very beautiful? Did she... 　　look like me? I opened my eyes and met Beast's eyes. Her eyes held a childlike, pure light, and 　　she looked puzzled by my rambling. 　　Sure enough. I laughed out loud, but found myself too exhausted to laugh, only able to gasp for breath. 　　That pervert Ken, this is the effect he wanted, that stupid pig, that castrated pig, that fat pig. 　　Just as I was getting into my rant, a loud clapping sound suddenly came from the doorway, 　　resounding loudly and lingering in the vast, empty, abandoned factory. 　　Beast stood up, adopting a defensive stance towards the man outside, whose silhouette was obscured by the light. 　　Poor little kitten, Ken must have made you suffer terribly. The man slowly approached, his leather shoes 　　making crisp footsteps. 　　Did Ken send you? I asked. 　　No, I know you've suffered, so I wanted to help you. Seeing you like this, even God couldn't bear 　　to look. Look at yourself now, and this beast, God, what a misfortune. 　　I'm fine. 　　No, no, little kitty, you need a good life, and Ken can't give you that. Ken only treats you as a plaything; he 　　doesn't treat you like a human being at all. He'll play you to death sooner or later. If you die, the world will lose a beautiful 　　rose. 　　Vampire, have you said enough? I frowned. Only Ken's 　　lawyer would have that boring, poetic tone. 　　Ken disliked that lawyer, always calling him a vampire who takes money and doesn't do his job. 　　Perhaps only he could be so well-off despite being so despised. 　　Please call me Attorney Louis, thank you, beautiful lady. 　　What's your purpose? 　　I want to take you away, darling. I can't bear to see you suffer in this hell. 　　It's not that simple, is it? Lawyer, everything comes at a price. 　　Clever cats always make men both like and fear them. Women should sometimes be a little foolish, just like lawyers 　　shouldn't be so shrewd sometimes. That way, people will feel at ease. 　　I think no one will owe you money for what you said today. So, don't waste your time 　　. 　　Okay, I'll get straight to the point. I'll take you away; another kind boss is willing to help you escape Ken's imprisonment 　　, and he's promised you a large sum of money to immigrate to South Africa. 　　Why me? I'm not an idiot; there's always a price to pay for these temptations, especially coming from 　　a lawyer. 　　Because you know Ken's secret. 　　No, I don't know. 　　You do. 　　I told you I don't know anything. 　　I think you need time to think it over, honey. It's a profitable deal, isn't it? If you've thought it through...

"Remember to let me know, I'll take you away."
Louis turned and left, his footsteps carrying the same elite, noble air he had when he arrived.
I cursed under my breath. Louis was no good; he was definitely with Ken by his side for a reason.
And me? Staying with Ken would only lead to my demise sooner or later. Either I cooperated with him and let him take me away,
maybe that would be a way out, but who could say for sure? If that boss was normal, then all the
normal people in the world were dead.
I turned to look at Beast. She had returned to her quiet, docile pet state, leaning against me, completely unguarded
.
I said, "Beast, what should I do?"
Beast tilted her head, looking puzzled. "
I know you don't understand, and that's good. Good girl." I patted her head, like patting a dog's head. She
made a human-like smile, reached out, raised my hand again, placed it on her head, and
mumbled, "Good girl, Mommy...
you're such a beast." I said with a smile.
A
day later, Mike finally led his men to open our cage door. His tall frame stood
outside, squinting at us, who were starving, as if we were a pile of filth, something
that would defile him with a single glance. He said, "Get up, you bitch, don't dirty the floor."
The beast pounced on the wire mesh with lightning speed, suddenly reaching out to grab his face. Startled by the sudden,
lightning-fast attack, he staggered back, a bloody scratch on his hand.
He touched his wound, blood clinging to his fingers, spat, and cursed, "
You beast, I'll kill you!"
He reached into his pocket for a pistol, but was stopped by the keeper beside him, who whispered in his ear
, "The boss will be unhappy; killing her won't benefit anyone."
Mike gritted his teeth, glanced at the beast still roaring at her, and turned to the equipment room to grab
an iron bar.
He forcefully shoved aside his henchmen standing in the doorway and yelled at the one trying to stop him, "Fuck you,
get out of here! I'll make this beast know what it means to be human!"
"You're the beast!" I screamed at him. "You're all beasts, walking upright in human skin! Even wild
animals are kinder than you! God must have been blind to create you! You don't deserve to be human! You're all
fucking hell!"
Mike suddenly revealed a bloodthirsty smile, looking at my ridiculous, naked defiance of the world,
spitting, and said, "And what about you?"

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