What's wrong?

"What's wrong with the Dreg?" Therion asks. "It is sick?"

"I don't think so." Amano picks you up and looks you over. "It's hard to be sure without knowing more about the species. I think it just needs food and rest."

"It's not going to be able to chew with that mouth weakened by the gag," Tortik points out.

"That's fine," Amano says. "I've got some nutrient broth." Your arms are untied. "Krik, go and get me a pipe about yay log and yay wide. Therion, you know what the broth looks like, right? For the Dreg's health, we have to let it rest a few days."

"Can we still fuck it?" Tortik asks.

"Of course we can fuck it. It just shouldn't use too much energy. We should leave it in the cage, and I'll feed it broth four times per day. On the plus side, its ass looks wide enough." The plug is pulled out. The vibrator, which is on a string, is yanked roughly out after it; a week ago, that would have been excruciating, but now you hardly feel it.

"Yeah! Finally!"

"Okay, give me that pipe." You feel Amano lift you up and tilt your head back. "Pour the broth slowly..."

A pipe is jammed down your throat, and feels like it pushes all the way to your stomach, which quickly starts to fill with gruel. The pain of your whole oesophagus being stretched open causes you to convulse and flail. "Someone tie its hands again!" Amano orders, and your arms are duly retied behind your back.

Just when you think you can't take any more, the pipe is yanked out. You immediately fall to the grate and throw up.

"Was that supposed to happen?" Therion asks.

"It's fine," Amano says. "I'll just do it every thirty minutes until it stays down."

And they do. You're mostly left in the dark, blindfolded and mouth **** open by the wire gag, unable to remove either with your hands tied, lying in the remains of your vomit that hasn't yet dripped through the grate. Occasionally, someone enters to fuck you; they almost never talk so you almost never know who it is, but they usually choose to try out your ass, and you quickly learn that a Chullian cock is still significantly wider than the butt plug was, not to mention the spines. Every half hour, Amano **** feeds you gruel, and every half hour, you throw most of it up.

Only at night does the activity stop. You count time by your periods of rest. Three days later, Amano pronounces you rested enough, somebody thinks to untie your hands, and you can finally remove your blindfold and gag.

You'd forgotten what light looked like. Light hurts.

"Does it still need broth?" Maive asks.

"No. But its jaw won't be strong enough to chew meat."

"That's not a problem, it seems to do okay on mostly cum. Okay, everyone; kitchen in one hour. Crew meeting. We've got to talk about the Beast."