BMOC: Black Mage on Campus, Chapter 7: A Season in HELL—Part 7

Read previous part

I was shambling back to my room after another endless and brutal chest and shoulder workout…which ended in an infinite number of chin-ups, when I got a taste of what the end might look like. I was alone. The guards no longer escorted me. Psycho and I had done an assault on our abs. I had just finished blowing Psycho while he did bicycle crunches… he gave me a big pat on the shoulder and sent me back to my quarters. After, of course he had tightened the restraints on my unyielding abdominal corset. I was gingerly rubbing the tortured and constrained flesh of my mid-section when I heard Dr. Heart’s soothing voice coming from Whiteboy’s room.

“So tomorrow will be the end of your recuperation and too show you just how incredibly appreciative of how cooperative you’ve been these past few weeks, I’d like to offer you a last request.”

Whiteboy stood docilely, nude and supplicant before the seated man. His body was a mural of gang tat’s and drug paraphernalia tattooed art. His big lips smacked as he tried to figure out what the doctor meant. “Whatchu trippin on der cus?”

The Doctor smiled appreciatively at the urban colored question. “Are there any more procedures that you’d want me to accomplish before we move you out of here and into your new life?”

Whiteboy let the question settle into his perpetually stoned brain. His permanently heavy eyelids fluttered. He struggled to think through his marijuana saturated mind. “Shit…Uh…” He looked down at his distorted, impossibly tone and muscled frame. His eyes lingered on his inky designs and then he turned his head to look over his shoulder at his giant basketball sized ass cheeks. A lustful hand crept back to massage the big ass flesh. He began kneading the tissue lovingly. There was a moment of pure torture on the young face. He turned his innocent and boyish eyes toward his tormentor. His hands kept roaming across the most prominent feature of his body and of his enslavement. Confusion and self-loathing swam across the face for a second and then with tears in his already red and hazy eyes he said. “I Want My Booty to be bigger.” His voice was a combination of desire and disgust… but his hands kept rubbing the huge butt.

Dr. Heart smiled and nodded knowingly. “I suspected as much. You are quite proud of that Ghetto Booty.”

“Every Brotha on Da E-coast gotta wanna plug this pussy. My Shit gotta be da all-star shit.” Whiteboy spat from his engorged mouth. The social climber in Wesley Simon still existed. He was still looking for a way to get a leg up on any competition and secure his ASSets.

Dr. Heart gazed down at his clip board and began to scribble on the chart. “Well further implants are out of the question …”

“Fuck dat noise!”

“…however I have prepared Operating room 2 for you. We’ll give you some standard fat injections around the existing implants. This should increase both size and sensation of the gluteus.”

“Yo, Whadda fuck dat mean?”

Dr. Heart got up and squeezed the skinny thugs big butt, “It means not only will your Booty be huge…” He brought the kid into a deep kiss, his masculine and stubbled jaw aggressively attacked the smooth boy-like face. The Doctor devoured the swollen lips. Whiteboy gave an immature moan of pleasure, and kissed back like a whore. The Doctor broke the embrace, “…but it will also jiggle and sway like Jell-O when you walk and when you sit like a bitch on a big cock.”

“Awww Shit! Dats what I’m talking about!” Whiteboy cheered and threw gang signs with his hands.

Doctor heart put down the clip board. “Now, be a good big assed fuck tool and thank me.”

Whiteboy immediately dropped to his knees and began to rip down Heart’s pants. “I’m a get your soldier all nice and wet… den I’m gonna ride your big doctor dick…!” He declared in retarded excitement.

I attempted to escape the disgusting scene as quickly as my own broken body would allow. I slammed the door to my room just as I heard WhiteBoy start to

Yell, “OAH SHIT FUCK Dat Big ass… Fuck it Hard Daddy.”

I lay in bed. I had that horrible need in my throat again. I desperately stuck my thumb in my mouth.

It didn’t help the need but it distracted my fucking faggot tongue. I thought about the assault Whiteboy had taken both physically and mentally from the Doctor… And

then it occurred to me, with a sick sense of dread and fear, that Whiteboy never even considered asking Heart to change him back…

I sucked harder, letting the comforting haze of numbness from the act of sucking wash over me. I listened as with a huge hard-on as Doctor Heart Assaulted WhiteBoy further…

Our lives were nothing but work-outs and sex.

All we could think about was sex.

I was sucking my thumb and rubbing my dick and thinking about how lonely I was.

Nothing but sex…

They were getting to all of us.

I sucked harder and prayed for my mind to shut up.

I sucked and exhaustion and mental fatigue, set in. The Jap-anime cartoons roared from the monitors around the room and I struggled through the pain of my constricted abdomen and sore muscles, begging for sleep.

“Curiouser and Curiouser Alice…. Even I have to admit… this is one fucked up RABBIT HOLE.”

My eyes flew open with shock. Seated on the bed side chair where Dr. Morrible usually perched was… The devil… Damien.

The guy who got me into this whole mess.

My mind wanted to lunge at him in murderous rage… but my body was too weak to even sit-up. My pride departed and I shook with teary eyed begging, “PLEASE

HELP ME!” I yelled.

Damien’s eyes glowed with blue light. They were curious and amused. His features were finely chiseled making his face look almost vulpine. Sharp cheekbones framed high inquisitive brows… he was positively supernatural. His big frame shifted forward eagerly, causing the simple fabric of his blue sweat-clothes to bunch in knots around his muscular limbs. “Say it again…” he whispered hungrily.

“Please…” I whimpered.

“Oh how the mighty have fallen… listening to you beg is better than Christmas…” He gloated. “Whatever the good doctor is doing… it’s quite a fascinating floor show to drop in on…. Have you seen what’s going on in some of these other rooms? I’m mad as a hatter and I wouldn’t even be able to come up with some of this Clive Barker-meets-Tom of Finland batshit.”

I heard keys jingling in the lock of my cell’s door.

“If they find you here…” I muttered into my pillow, “They’ll do the same thing to you! You bastard.”

Damien waved a hand dismissively “These Meats Puppets can’t see me unless I want them too… I am completely invisible except to you… like your imaginary frenemy.”

The door opened.

Damien didn’t even bother to turn around.

Pride Goeth Before A Fall.

“My… My… My… If it isn’t my favorite little anomaly.” Dr. Morrible purred as she swept into the room. Her eyes were cautious but fascinated. “Fancy meeting you here.” She smirked.

Damien launched himself from the chair, knocking it across the room with his momentum. “YOU!” he almost shrieked.

“Me.” She answered with a vicious smile.

“I thought you were dead.”

“I thought you were too…” She circled the room.

She was treating the man like a wild animal. “Imagine my surprise when our little sister called me begging for my help.”

Damien quickly regained his composure, “Ally would rather roll around in a bath tub full of broken glass then talk to you…”

Morrible was smiling like she had just won the lottery. “Oh… she was desperate. I did warn the whole family that a man had no business in our little coven.”

He stood straight and proud, “Well it would take the whole coven… All three of you… to stop me now… and sadly you’ve only got two Vaughn sisters to work with.”

“You were a disastrous variable we should have dealt with at birth.” She snapped.

His fists clenched, “As I recall, you did attempt to deal with it. I still have the scars.”

She smiled brighter, “Children, can be so cruel…

If Medea hadn’t kept you hidden behind her skirts all those years, I might have succeeded.”

Blue fire laced through his fingers and he looked at her menacingly, “I’m tempted to give you the beating Grandma never would. How’d you like to squeal like a pig for once, Mad Madam MIM?”

She laughed and continued to observe the mage, like he was an exotic butterfly trapped under glass. “When Ally called…I was skeptical…but looking at you… ha… you’re practically bleeding magic. Just an open wound of power and madness…” Her eyes flashed angrily, “All grown-up and wearing BIG sisters’ clothes…” Venom dripped from her every syllable, “Tell me little brother… have you begun to hear voices yet? Or perhaps find yourself sneaking long, meaningful glances at clock towers? You know I've always wandered what went through Medea's mind before she swan dove off that ledge. Maybe you could tell me....”

He was across the room and on top of her before I could even blink. He held her chubby throat in his hands, “Careful… Careful… I’m not a frightened 6yr old anymore Roxy…”

Her pudgy face twisted in anger, "Still mourning our big sisters death...huh? No one to wipe your nose or protect you from the big bad world."

My drugged mind started to process the scene… “You two… know each other…WHAT THE FUCK!!!?”

Two identical sets of blue eyes regarding me coolly. Damien released the Doctors’ throat and both returned to their pretense of civility.

“Damien here,” Dr. Morrible offered first, “Is my little brother. He’s the Family Freak.” She looked right at me, ignoring Damien, “When you started discussing your psychosis in group …I had my suspicions … but I never really believed he was involved. He never had the stomach for true suffering.” She sneered.

Damien’s elfin eyebrow arched in bemusement, “Unlike my older sister Roxanna here… She can pretty much STOMACH anything…Pastries, Ribs, Whole Standing Rib roasts… or if pressed for choice, Lard out of the can.”

“Fuck you, Damien Vaughn.” She spat.

“Go fuck yourself Roxanna Vaughn… OR is it Roxanna DeWinter … Or… St. James… What is it now Roxy? Are you a Vaughn again? Or did you keep your most recent victim…. Er “husbands” name?”

“It’s Morrible.” She answered, “Mr. Morrible was such a sweet… useful and sadly… fragile man. I actually shed a tear when we buried him…” Her teeth flashed a predatory white, “I’m even fairly sure he was dead…”

Damien looked at her in disgust, “Roxanna Vaughn… A Serial killer in a lab coat… How did you get like this…”

She smiled bright and wide, “The same way you got like that…” She observed, pointing at his supernatural appearance… “No one loved me…”

His broad shoulders convulsed like he had been hit, then shook his head… “Someone loved us both… once upon a time…”

She laughed a mean spirited little chirp. “Our Childhood? Ha! What a picnic that was… a family curse… angry townspeople and a haunted house?! Not to mention, growing up next to you three…”

Years of repressed rage bubbled to the surface, skewing her glasses and twisting her face with fury, “Medea: The Beautiful one. You: The Gifted One. And Allysandra: the sweet one… and where did that leave me?” She demanded. “Which “one” was I?” Morrible screeched.

Damien regarded her stoically, “The smart FAT One.” He smiled. “You were the Fat One, Roxy.”

She fumed.

She swore…

But ultimately she calmed herself with a viper’s smile. “I’m impressed Damien, when last I saw you… you were a sniveling little daydreamer, all dressed in black and hiding in your books… I never thought of you as a peer… But if you’re dicing with Dr. Heart… you’re ready for the big leagues.”

“What the fuck are YOU doing here anyway,” He asked, “The last I heard you were in the Netherlands, being held at the Hague for war crimes.”

The fat little scientist shrugged, “A simple misunderstanding. Luckily, my “research” found a new investor.”

“This facility is one musical number away, from being the Rocky Horror Picture show. I don’t see how your “research” relates.”

She shrugged, “It’s the family business. Making men suffer. Breaking their spirits. Wreaking havoc on their lives….”

“If I had a farmhouse or a bucket of water, I’d kill you right now.” He murmured.

“Oh spare me the super-cute “witch” references, you fairytale-loving-little-faggot. You know I don’t deal in that kind of magic. I left that field for a more…” Her incisors glistened, “…Practical Magic. Science is much more satisfying. It gives you so much more time to study the pain and destruction of a mind … and sharper, crueler tools to put it back together.”

Damien’s face showed the briefest flash of revulsion, “Here we are… Vaughn’s to the teeth… you and I… the perfect weapons of discord and malice, to be unleashed on men everywhere.”

“Yes.” She agreed. “Frankenstien and Malefiscent! The Mad Doctor and the Wicked Fairy! Ha!” She laughed, “Aren’t you PROUD? You do so love a good story, little Fag.”

He hunched his shoulders and bowed gracefully, “If you can’t beat ‘em… join ‘em.” He replied flippantly.

“Oh, I think you will…” She growled and reached quickly for the panic button in her lab coat.

I knew that the second she hit it, security would be barreling through the door with guns ready.

Damien apparently knew it to…

“Do be realistic Fatty Pants.” He warned, “My magic might be simpler but it sure is quicker. I’ll be a blinding flash of blue light on your retina before your guards even get here.”

Roxanna had to acknowledge his logic. “True.” She conceded. “Oh well, then shall we discuss why you are so interested in this patient… Does the little band geek have a hard on for the Big Man on Campus?” She laughed. “Is this the only way you can spend time with a hot jock and not feel his obvious rejection?

Blue light erupted from Damien.

Morrible flew across the room and landed with a heavy SMACK against the wall. Her clothes, hair and face were plastered by force, making her seem to be in a hurricane force wind tunnel. “Like you said, all grown up….” He stared at her; pinned to the wall with mystic G-force.

He seemed to be considering his options… until finally he carelessly waved a hand. She slid down the wall, eyes wild with rage. “This audience is over. Be warned Roxy… Should we meet again… I will be prepared.”

And just as he promised, he was gone in a bright flash of blinding blue light.

I watched Roxanna Vaughn / Dr. Morrible stare coldly at the spot her brother had been. Her eyes were calculating. She stood-up but remained motionless for quite some time “… So will I…” she finally whispered.

I groaned from the exhaustion of staying conscious through the entire bizarre scene. “You’re related to the devil?”

She gave me an impatient look, “That little snot isn’t any kind of devil.” She reached into her always- ready medicine bag and retrieved a syringe and vial, “I warned my sisters, that he was unstable and far too powerful.” She prepped the needle and vial. “But NOOOO! All they could do was coddle and spoil the little brat. Men have no business using that kind of power.”

I watched her prep the syringe, not really processing what she was doing…

“How does he do that…” I mumbled.

“He’s got a Gift, a GIFT that should have been MINE!” She ranted, “I HAD to study and learn and practice and research…” Her fat little face was painted with hatred… “What did that little bastard have to do…? HA! Snap his spoiled little fingers…”

“He’s way scarier than you are.” I whispered.

“If I want your opinion,” Morrible snarled jabbing me with the syringe, “I’ll slit you open and read it in your entrails.”

My mind got foggy almost instantly and I could feel myself slipping into unconsciousness. “wha…. Di… you… give… me…”

“Heavy sedative.” She chirped, “Having observed our little family reunion has compromised the anonymity of our inter-personal therapy.”

“Wha?” I slurred.

Her gaze turned to stone. “You know too much. I’m going to have to accelerate your rehabilitation. It will please Dr. Heart to no end. He has been sharpening his scalpel in anticipation.”

“Wha… no……..!!”

“Goodbye Leo. When you wake-up you will be a new man… quite literally…”

Everything faded into a panic filled darkness…

Read next part