God of Marriage Saga: Chapter 13
"I'm commandeering this series," Gavrill exclaimed.
No, I don't know how this goes, ahead of time. Mostly I just...
"Will you shut up--you're not ad libbing, you're being held at gunpoint."
I think I'll be safe, if we give her what she wants.
"Stop fucking around with the title card. It's pretentious," Gavrill muttered.
So this was what someone with very strong willpower was like. I'd been on the fence about whether to do something weird for the 13th chapter title.
"If you keep distracting the audience, I'm going to kick you. Hard."
... she kicked me, hard.
"If you keep stalling, I'm going to 'really' remind you of every time you've been kicked. So let's move this along. Werewolves. Talk."
...
"You this much of a pussy about it, kid?"
... she'd struggled for a few minutes to bring up any vivid memories of me actually getting kicked, but then realized... I had kicked someone else in the face.
... apparently I was empathetic enough to be able to feel it as their braces sliced into their lip.
"Good, that's a start. Move this along or I'll force you to feel that. Hey, this is pretty cool. So I can force nice-guys like you to feel other peoples' pain."
"If you care enough..." Was this an... improvement for her?
"You might have to ask him more pointed questions, sister! And that's not very nice!" Fran exclaimed.
I really had no idea what Fran was doing, and I guess I just had to believe that she could do it effectively. Did it hurt? Should it have?
"I umm, don't think you're supposed to anesthetize for this kind of procedure, doctor."
Was... this 'therapy'?
OWWW.
"No. It's not." Gavrill interjected. "Werewolves. Now."
... nothing came to my heart. Or my mind.
"Alright, let's take a different approach then." Gavrill scowled. "You seem... strangely eager to get bitten. Why?"
I'd already been bitten, at least three times, by dogs. Maybe more, if you counted puppy teeth. I was a little too familiar with the experience.
Gavrille cranked the dial on the side of her headband, where her earlobe should have been, and an enormous, nigh-crocodilian muzzle of sharp teeth exploded from what had been an attractive, albeit stitched-up female countenance.
"Don't think this'll be like those bites, if you piss me off any more."
... "Look," I complained, "This is like, buried trauma or something. Maybe bargaining, too. I wanted to take a bite to grow tougher."
"I can learn to be gentle, with you." Gavrill grumbled, wrapping her maw around my arm and very... gradually compressing.
"Please stop." Fran whispered.
Gavrill let go of me with her mouth, and instead grabbed Fran by the back of the head with one hand. "Or what."
"Older sister, even with a hold like that, I can still render you incapable of speech."
Fran pointed her scalpel at Gavrill's throat with one of her arms. Really, even with crushing jaws, it was difficult to keep up with that many arms.
I intejected. "Stop fighting, please, Gavrill. I'm turned on by the idea of finding a woman who makes me tougher, okay?"
"Well then you have to put up with a little horseplay, don't you?" she smarmed disingenuously, loosening her grip, and reverting her face-shape.
... so she liked torturing me, if it got me answers...
"This is the--"
Cram it.
...
"Cut into him deep and good, sis."
"I don't think I will, with you taking that kind of tone. You're distracting me." Fran complained.
... was this how...
"Yes, idiot, stop asking questions with obvious answers. This is a family reunion, now start saying useful things or I'll unite your face with my knee."