"Damon, please try to behave. This isn't helping. And number two, no, you are not going in there. Come back, you naughty one!" Mariella muttered, trying to control two of the damn ticks. It had been a nerve-wracking ordeal.
A week had gone by, and they hadn't grown much. She'd tried an array of things to make this work, but it seemed impossible. Now, she had an incubator humming, some of Mimi's half-used clothes, and bags of her blood warming up, but the ticks were a handful. They ate, but not as much as they should, and not from her.
Initially, she took it as an insult, but what could she do? They were in their most primitive, animalistic form, which, in time, had sparked the idea of vampires turning into bats. So, they weren't entirely in control of themselves, or so she hoped.
She had, once again, been too greedy, too hungry for sex, and this was one damn lesson she was learning the hard way. This was her first time doing this, and it was so incredibly difficult. Mimi had always made it sound so easy.
Well, Mariella thought sourly, maybe it was for her, as she was their protector, and they were hers, so there was a link. Since she wasn't Mimi, their vampire forms denied her. It hurt, truly did, but this pain gave her a nasty lesson about Damon. He was so much more than she thought, and the bond that ran this deep made her mouth taste like shit most of the time, as she was rejected, by their vampire sides, utterly.
She took a breath, ran her hand through her hair, and felt not like a woman but like a mother of unruly children. Fine, it was time to amp up the game. She walked to the cabinet, recalling how Damon had grown Mimi the first time she was a tick. Time to do just that.
She took several syringes, filled them with Mimi's blood, and readied her workstation. It was time to feed the damn ticks. She started to chase them and finally got hold of number one, who was furious and hissed and clicked, making all kinds of weird noises as she mercilessly carried him to the exam table.
She placed him on his back and used energy to bind him in place. She said nothing but used her energy gaze as well as a scanner and located his stomach, injecting as much blood as possible until he groaned and fell asleep. Good, time for a nap. She placed him in the now warmed-up incubator, covered him, and started to chase number two, a harder case.
Having finally caught him, she repeated the procedure, keeping a close eye on both. As soon as their bellies had room, she filled them completely, refusing to give up. Now it was time for them to grow, and perhaps, just perhaps, they would have enough motivation to continue growing after the initial feeding, though one could never be certain.
Neither Mimi nor Damon had ever explicitly explained how or what was required to make a tick grow, and Mariella wasn't aware of all the little details. She kept them warm and full, of course, but there was more involved once they became eager to grow, and they would use any means necessary to keep fueling themselves.
Now wasn't the time to think about her babies, Mimi, or the future; instead, she had to get these two fools to grow again. Mariella had many colorful expressions running through her mind, as she had to be so vigilant when those damn ticks pretended to sleep, only to try and escape and cause her trouble.
Caring for her babies now felt like an easy task; at least they giggled and cooed and were happy to see her, unlike the hissing and strange sounds that she could feel were sounds of discontent, almost sounds of rebellion. It truly took all her effort to have these two anywhere near her for quite some time, and she was already crafting in her mind a suitable groveling apology from Mimi, hoping she could live in her wing or be with her, and not have to be with these two damn idiots.
Manipulators, sure, she had given them ideas, but then again, Damon knew how to talk, and she knew he was lying through his teeth, but she hadn't stopped him. Well, she had been all over the place, and this was a nasty price to pay.
Tiredly, she walked to medbay to retrieve the next bag of Mimi's blood. It was the only type that suited the ticks, a biological reality that both frustrated and annoyed her. It didn't matter what Damon or anyone else might say; this was undeniable.
A greedy part of her was angry, but it also made her feel more connected to herself. She wanted to improve, so she began crafting a way to control that part, either by suppressing it or nullifying it. This helped, and she started formulating arguments against her desire for Damon, becoming quite inventive in finding reasons why he was not an ideal partner.
Knowing him so well, she was aware of his flaws. Despite their deep love, she was increasingly annoyed, feeling she had denied herself something because of Damon. She had always tried to be supportive, but recently she realized Damon didn't need that; he needed someone to disagree with him.
This was Mariella's starting point: to become more than just a fuck doll figure, always agreeing with Damon. She was increasingly unwilling to fuel his ego and his flawed self-image, which brought her to a crossroads. There, as she hooked up another bag of blood for Damon, she made a promise to herself.
She gave herself permission to feel everything, meaning she would finally give him her honest opinion, repeatedly if necessary. It might not be wise, but it was necessary. Perhaps, just perhaps, she could even influence Damon to change, although she didn't have much hope.
Two weeks had passed, and the Salvatores had grown considerably. They were now nearly three feet tall, still hairless and brown, with longer limbs, but they hadn't started talking yet. Eager to feed and now understanding the need to grow, they required blood. It was evening again, and Mariella began her daily routine. Each Salvatore consumed about ten bags of blood per day, and any blood would suffice now, which was fortunate since there was plenty of pack blood in storage.
Mariella usually reserved the daily bags the night before so she could distribute them and perhaps have some time for herself, like showering or writing in her diary for Mimosa and Shadow. She logged everything meticulously and wrote honestly about herself, which helped her face the ugly truth, allowing her to separate that part of herself and potentially gain more control.
She began to consider what Mimi must have experienced with her rage, if it had been anything like this – and surely it had. Mimi had mastered it, eventually, and that drove her to showcase her control. Mariella knew the challenge would be enormous, but she was willing to face it head-on.
Preparing for the next day, she spoke to herself, loading bags of blood into the nearby cabinet. The Salvatores were now comfortably settled in their incubator, having learned that warmth aided their growth. Or so she assumed. Unaware of everything about this stage of vampirism, she was about to face a significant surprise.
Gathering her laptop, phone, and a few books, she talked to herself, listening to what she needed. She was exhausted; getting these "damn idiots" to this stage had taken a lot of effort. Although things were a little easier now, she felt the toll on her body and wanted to sleep. The ticks would feed in the morning, having just consumed over two liters of Charles's blood. Full and content, they were curled up in their incubators, resting.
She opened her bed, changed into a large tee shirt and slipped under the covers. She grabbed a book and dimmed the lights, but she was exhausted. The words swam before her eyes, and she reluctantly put the book away. Curling up, she fell asleep, simply thinking she was tired.
However, she didn't know that her husbands were far more aware than she realized. They had used telepathy to make her fall asleep; it was time for them to truly grow. In this stage of their evolution, nothing could stop them, and growth was their most important task. There was no right or wrong when it came to obtaining sustenance, so they had made a plan.
In the darkness of night, the lids of the incubators were raised, and two brown creatures crawled out. Their relatively long limbs gave them a spider-like appearance, as did their still wrinkly brown skin and bloodred eyes. They dropped to the floor slowly and silently. The creatures moved next to the bed and crawled in from the foot end, slithering under the blanket.
They got into position: number one was on Mariella's front as she slept on her right side, crawling right next to her. Number two crawled to her back. Between the creatures' hindlegs, cocks emerged, but they were more like branches: brown, thin at the start, and dry-looking. Number one pushed himself all the way into Mariella's pussy, right to the bottom, while number two thrusted his appendage into her ass. Then, those cocks swelled up and rooted in, becoming almost like internal umbilical cords.
Simultaneously, the creatures sank their fangs into her neck, now making her body feed them from both ends. As stated, nothing would stop them from getting maximum nutrition, and this would keep Mariella in bed, unable to move; it was literally impossible for her to get up. As the creatures drew as much as they could, they soon got heavier and taller.
Number one kept giving her bursts of velvet for starters, allowing them to attach themselves properly and feed. Oh yeah, he would allow her to wake up at some point, just to feel what had been done to her.
Damon had always treated Mimi this way, making her feed him without regret as he relentlessly pursued his own growth, and nothing could stop him. He and Mariella's number two had tapped into her energies while she slept, harvesting her lust. They were thieves, and they reveled in it, confident that Mariella would recover.
Now, however, was not the time for love or lust; it was a time to be the most selfish creature in the world, taking and taking without giving. The dicks inside her didn't arouse her; they felt more like uncomfortable medical devices, and she could feel how they had grown into her tissues. Oh my god, it would be perfect.
Three days later, Mariella woke up, her mind sluggish. She was hot, and as she tried to move, pain lanced through her neck. She could feel those appendages inside her, and it disgusted her. Seeing those thieves sucking her energies, she stopped, giving them pure energy, nothing more, not even her special ones, although they had siphoned a lot.
She was pissed. "Really, what the fuck is going on? Would you possibly remove those damn dicks off of me?"
She could feel a dark satisfaction emanating from number one, and she noticed how much they had grown, hoping this wouldn't last long.
"Oh my god," she thought, "I don't want any dick inside me for a long time, or at least not from these two." Damn thieves.
Her annoyance fueled Damon, and both of them sank their fangs and dicks even deeper into her, draining her even faster and greedier. Who knew what life would bring them next once this was done. She swore to herself, recognizing a harsh lesson she was learning.
By God, she vowed to prevent a repeat of this nightmare; she refused to be a mere nutrition source for those creatures. They would apologize, proving they'd learned their lesson, or she would make them suffer for the next six months. She had a multitude of sentences reserved and expressions for them.
She never thought the touch of Damon's cock would be so disgusting and disturbing, devoid of any arousal, only irritation and the inability to move under their weight and the pressure of their fangs on her neck. She felt faint, drifting in and out of consciousness, each awakening fueling her rage as this seemed a never-ending purgatory. It was, without a doubt, a nasty lesson.