Damon walked tiredly toward the kitchen, having just finished another session with Mimi. This time, he wouldn't erase her sensations or memories of what had happened. They were slowly unraveling the programming from each of the females, a painstaking process. Trauma lingered; despite Mimi's need for rage, she harbored deep, festering scars. Knowing her tendency to hoard secrets, Damon feared these would fester, leading to future nightmares. He wouldn't let that happen.
Therefore, he was also unraveling her programming, chasing her memories and sensations—arduous work, as she had hidden them deeply. He even used "Highway to Hell" and other songs to echolocate the worst memories and gradually fade them. He kept her heavily sedated until he could remove as much negativity from her mind as possible. Only then would he start to help her unleash her supernatural, white hot rage.
As Damon rounded the corner toward the kitchen—the hallway lined with light-colored panels, dark purple wallpaper, and antique lamps casting a soft glow—Charles approached.
"Oh, have you finished with Mimi? When can I have her? How well done are we?"
Damon sighed. He knew what he was about to say wouldn't please Charles, but he wouldn't lie or sugarcoat the situation.
"We're not done yet," he said. "Listen, I'm exhausted. I'm going to grab something to eat and sleep—not in that room, but in a separate room because I'm utterly drained."
Charles nodded. "Well, perhaps Lepard can assist in the meantime. I want Mimi to heal; I need her."
Damon sighed again and headed to the kitchen, pondering how to explain the situation. "Let me explain a few things, and then you'll understand our progress better. Have you studied neural plasticity much?"
Charles frowned. "Well, it has something to do with how flexible the mind is, right? You, as a telepath, must have your own ideas about that."
Damon nodded. "Basically," he began, "think of the human mind as plastic; it's highly malleable, making it easy for me—and normal vampires—to manipulate. You know how easy it is to compel a human? It's not so much about weakness of mind as it is about its adjustability."
Damon went to the fridge, retrieved a ready-made meal, and brought it to the table. Charles did the same and sat down, waiting for Damon to continue.
A slight wrinkle appeared between Damon's brows as he considered how to explain. "Well, in my view, the human mind is like Play-Doh—easy to manipulate and it stays as I shape it. But it also has a weakness. Mess with it too much, and you end up with a blob of oddly colored mass you can't separate back into its original colors. The human mind is flexible, but fragile. Now, Mimi's mind is more like blocks—Lego bricks, or Minecraft cubes. I'm trying to find the right cube to fit into the right hole. Sure, I can take any cube, file it down, shape it, and force it in, but it's not as it should be."
Damon frowned, continuing his explanation. "The mind is far more complex than you might think. Wulfe may have made it seem simple, but trauma like that messes up so many things. Everything is connected, and poking in the wrong place can have nasty surprises. Humans are easier because their minds allow me to do much more, but hers is harder. She has a strong mind, a lot of stuff in there, and as you know, her memories are linked by sensation, making it difficult. "
Charles nodded. "So her mind is less plastic, then?"
Damon nodded. "Yes and no. Her mind is strong. I can manipulate it, but I need to be cunning. It has to happen slowly, and we must just try to hang in there. I know this is frustrating, but if you need to, go and release yourself with those who are willing. I've gotten some of her programming out, but her memories—as she retains them, as you know—are hard for me to handle, even for me. Just think, I'm a millennia-old predator who's done things that would terrify a human for a week, yet this trauma inflicted on my wife makes me shudder."
Charles nodded; Damon wasn't the only one suffering. He knew Wulfe was suffering immensely as well, having spent a lot of time in the gym with Magnum, unloading their stress.
Charles ached to touch Mimi, to possess her, fuck her, taste her skin, feel her in his arms, but he had to wait. Despite Damon's explanations, Charles initially felt Damon was being selfish. Or at least he wanted to feel like that. However, the genuine pain in Damon's eyes revealed the truth: Damon was doing everything he could to help his and Charles's wife, their beloved alpha female. Other females had been difficult, but Mimi's blood manipulation had erased memories, making it harder to extract those ghostly sensations and faint recollections than actual visceral experiences.
Damon explained, "This is abhorrent, crude, and most of the humans would see me as a monster, I know. I essentially have to drug and rape my wives to extract the memories while preserving their sense of self and restoring pleasure. My methods might alleviate the programming before we fully remove it. Once they start sensing it, they'll have more weapons—they can fight the programming themselves while I assist. You know, I was selfish way back, and I programmed Mimi to feel guilty whenever she was alone on her trip and enjoyed herself. Wulfe found it and put help there for Mimi to battle my programming. She got a headache whenever my programming hit her, so she knew that she was manipulated, and she has pretty much dismantled my programming by now."
Charles asked, "What's the most important approach now?"
Damon replied, "Stick to your roles, use their bodies, seduce their sensations, let your pleasure show, kiss, touch, but use unconventional terms. A little weirdness helps."
Charles suggested, "Mimi and Mariella responded strongly to Daddy play in the past."
Damon smirked, "Good catch. You can use that too—master, whatever works. But I'm exhausted. Even Mimi's supermilk isn't enough. Other Salvatores are dealing with females, but I have to let them assist with Mimi eventually, though it's hard. I know it's unfair to her. Yet, I feel a possessive need, seeing her as a possession, not a loved one. I need others who see her as a loved one to help, but goddamn it, she's mine!"
Damon's voice was passionate, his expression fierce. Charles sensed Damon's internal struggle, prompting him to offer his own perspective.
"Why can't she be both a possession and a loved one?" Charles asked. "One doesn't exclude the other."
Damon frowned. "But it's wrong," he countered. "She's a sentient being, not an object. I should see her as my wife, not my possession."
Charles disagreed, stating, "I see her as a possession sometimes, and there's no shame in that. I think she sees us as her possessions, too. We should go with the flow, stop fighting what our souls want, and move past this crisis to a decent family life. I miss our perfect times—well, relatively perfect—but even when you got rid of her, it was perfect for me, even if she suffered. She was mine to cherish, to hold, to comfort. I'd love to have a long family time with her again."
Damon fell silent, then spoke with genuine regret. "That time is a black spot on my soul," he admitted. "But I've learned from it. I know she protects this pack, always and forever. I need to remember that. Always consider her motivations and understand what she's protecting us from. Right now, she's shielding us from what happened to them. We saw a glimpse of what she was forced to witness, but there's more. We have a clear path with others, but with Mimi, it's not that simple. I can't be too rough; if I am, she withdraws. I need to be subtle, and patient—and you know I'm notoriously impatient. I have to keep everyone under control. Now isn't the time to profess love or force anything; we have to proceed slowly."
Reaching for more coffee, Damon found the pot empty. He sighed, rising to refill it. The thought of a normal life—a meal with Mimi, playfully stealing her coffee mug—felt impossibly distant. He felt stuck in a limbo where those they loved suffered most, a horrible thought, yet a dark part of him knew he deserved it.
Ironically, this millennia-old predator, changed profoundly over centuries by Mimi and Mariella, felt inadequate to help them. His grand plan, despite progress, seemed insufficient, further depressing him. Even his weakness, however, remained hidden from Charles.
Charles nodded. "It's like removing a tumor, a pimple, a cyst," he said. "Mimi likes watching those clips. You have to get rid of it all, or it grows back."
Damon nodded in agreement. "I wish I could watch those clips with her once this is over," he said, "but I know myself. Mariella will probably occupy my time, and I'm not sure what the wolves or Elena and Katherine need, or if you can be with her, either. The future isn't for us to see."
Charles hummed, "Que sera, right?"
Damon, continuing to eat, nodded. The future remained a grey blur; his attempts to foresee possible outcomes had been thwarted, a divine intervention, he hoped. He doubted his current course of action, as always, but now wasn't the time for distractions. He needed laser focus.
Charles, also eating, contemplated their next move. Damon, tired and yearning for sleep, reminded himself of his pack leader's responsibilities. He considered the most beneficial approach. While ordering Charles to breed the females was an option, it wasn't the priority. Charles held firm beliefs about treating women, making a deviation difficult, but the situation demanded that Charles confront his darker side.
Damon knew he had to take charge, giving Charles clear, explicit orders. This wasn't the time for romantic chic flicks; it was time for a decent porn movie—trauma healing trauma. Once that programming was dealt with, the inflicted trauma would be forgotten, replaced by eager, passionate sex between pack members.
Most were energy creatures, focusing their energy on what they used most. This lust pack's purpose was lust, but currently, lust wasn't circulating freely; if it was, it was targeted for revenge and retribution, not sex. Their pack's purpose was sex, breeding, carnality, not becoming beasts.
"I need you to handle Mariella," Damon instructed. "Keep her Glasgow Coma Scale at 5-7, be rough with her—she likes it. Use songs like Jennifer Paige's 'Crush' or the Spice Girls' '2 Become 1' to elicit a response. Use her, make her feel it, but keep her deep, her mind submerged, while she experiences sensations. Sing to her, praise her, and make her cum."
Charles smirked. "You sure? You don't want some Salvatore to do the action?"
Damon shook his head. "Right now, eight Salvatores are handling wolves and girls, and working in pairs. Number Two is sleeping. I'm off duty and Wulfe's at the gym. She's all yours. Try to make some progress. We need, I need some hope, and Mariella might be the easiest to snap out of this at first. She is most lustful."
Charles pondered. "Mimi mentioned those minerals. Should I use them? Jade and such? Or the crystals imbued with Mimi's lust? They've always had a powerful effect on Mariella."
Damon nodded. "Use both. She's almost there; she needs a little push. It's easier to help her mentally once her body starts learning and her energy cycles normalize. She needs to be lust queen once more and once I get her body to react, it is easier for me to install help in her mind, I am gonna use same tactic as Wulfe did to Mimi, meaning hit of pain whenever programming tries to hit, so I need reward too, pleasure when she fights the programming. Not going to ignite her rage, but her lust. "
Charles nodded, accepting his orders. The task, however unorthodox and sexually explicit, was key to their overall success. It would be something new but he could do it, sure it was like some damn porn film but this was lust pack after all and it was time to use it to their advantage, not let it hinder and try to be morally like humans, as they were not humans, not in a long time and this was just their life.
While eating, both men contemplated their next move. Charles schemed about some private time with Mariella, using her as an outlet for release while offering help, but delaying the use of his protector powers.
Damon, however, longed only for the beckoning bed and sleep; his body and mind were exhausted, and rest was paramount. Time to act would come soon enough, allowing him to refocus completely on the task at hand, hoping for a breakthrough that would bring sunshine and love back into his soul. He yearned for that connection, that highway of love where feelings burned like wildfire, a feeling he acutely sensed Mariella needed, mirroring the bond he shared with Mimi—a bond beyond words.