Author: Blackraven2 Title: Regeneration Summary: Lydia is a gazelle with a rare medical condition. She can heal from anything. She's gonna tell you all about it, if you want to listen. Keywords: furry,f,mf,nonlethal,mutilation,vore,cooking,cutting to pieces,amputee, cons Language: English Hi, my name's Lydia. I'm a regenerator. And no, that's not a job title, and I'm also not a machine, it's actually a rare medical condition. It's a mixed deal. Some would call it a curse, others would eagerly kill for it. But it's genetical, it can't be acquired that I know of. I didn't ask for it, but I also don't complain, I make the best of it. The pro side is for sure, it's almost impossible to kill me. I'm not immortal, I can still die from old age. And if someone were to mush up my brain, it'd turn me mentally into a vegetable or sets me back to the state of a diaper staining toddler. But safe from vaporizing me with a nuke, or incinerating me and letting the fire burn for a good time longer than normally necessary, it'd be really hard to get rid of me. The condition is genetic, but neither of my parents had it. As a child I healed quite well, but we didn't really find out that I had it until I was around eight, when I lost a finger in a nasty accident involving a revolving door, and it grew back completely within just a week. The doctors told me that this would likely stay that way, even as I grew up, and was nothing to worry about. But as a teenager I of course started experimenting around. You know, as a Gazelle, I'm a bit into this thrilling predator prey role play thing. My boyfriend back then, we are still together btw, is a handsome leopard. One day, after I told him about my 'condition', I asked him if he'd like to eat me out - a bit more thoroughly than he usually did. By that time I had already stopped caring about pain, but boy, that was one intense night. We took it far further than I had ever dared on my own. We both freaked out big time, when my heart suddenly stopped, and when everything started fading to black, I was sure, I was a goner. I woke up in the morning, hungry and thirsty as hell, but with all the major wounds already closed. He had stayed with me all night and must have seen me heal and my heart start again. From that day on we did that around once a week, although usually in the basement or bathtub or somewhere similar easier to clean than his bedroom. It can take me up to a month to fully heal on my own, but we found out we can speed that up a lot if I drink a lot of these protein drinks. The one that bodybuilders use, so we usually kept some of those around. It didn't take long until we found out we can both get one hell of an orgasm, if he rips my heart out when I'm just about to come, with his barbed cock deep in me. My parents don't have much money, so I had to take a job when we moved to college. I work in a restaurant, in the kitchen. My boyfriend works in the same place as a cook. As a student, I'm just an assistant. Washing dishes, preparing ingredients. And sometimes I am the ingredients. That wasn't the plan from the beginning of course. It was more a kinky play we did one night that the restaurant was closed. Greg has a key, and he asked if he could use the kitchen for some culinary experiments. But the gazelle rump roast we created was so tasty, he had to have his boss have a try. And soon after I became a regular ingredient to spice up a number of dishes. If he needs some fat for a broth, I'd just slice of one of my breasts, take the fur off, and he'd put it in the pot to simmer just like any piece of animal fat. Meanwhile we are such a routine team, I can take one of my legs off, standing, without even looking. Bind a rope tightly to reduce the mess, a few cuts around my thigh just below, a twist to get the bone unhinged, and I have my hooved leg in front of me on the table, like any other piece of meat, while I hop around for the next few hours on just one leg. Or less. On a busy day, sometimes I get to sit on the table and keep carving. But the best is when Greg takes control. He is strong enough to lift me with ease. So he puts me on the chopping block, and then, chop, chop, chop, he hacks all my limbs off, just like that. It makes me feel so wonderfully helpless, just laying there, able to do nothing but wiggle. Usually we don't need all that much meat. But there's no reason, not to place some of me in the walk-in refrigerator. I love watch him cut open my belly and harvest any organs he needs. Usually it's just my liver, as that goes with some a la carte dishes. Rarely we need other parts, but if he has the time he still empties me out, then shows me my empty insides. Either with a mirror, or he chops my head off and lifts me to have a look. We usually kiss, before I pass out. I really love seeing my butchered body just laying there, without being able to feel it. As we once found out, odd things can happen if I get decapitated. My regeneration ability is strong enough to re-form my whole body in two days with a few tricks. But even my headless body is still alive enough to somehow stay functioning. That part can become sort of like a zombie. It regenerates enough to breathe on its own, often with a only partially regrown head, but no mind to speak of. It's creepy, but also fascinating to see Greg play with such a mindless copy of me. "Hey, technically you are the copy, except for your head. This, here is your pussy. Come here, I want to see you eat yourself out." Was one of the weirder, but oddly hot statements, Greg made. You can't really be jealous of your own mindless body, can you? But after a few days it actually started being able to orgasm. We didn't want to risk that newly grown head to develop a personality of its own, so before things got unethical, we put the whole thing through the meat grinder. Which in itself was a great experience. Seeing my own body being ground up, still kicking and twitching really made me want to try that out in person. That was an extreme sensation I can tell you. Hardcore. I thought with my pain tolerance nothing could shock me anymore, but that was intense. I couldn't even scream, as my own minced insides were pushed out, up my throat. And Greg the vicious bastard waited for the very last second until he hit the emergency off switch. I felt my neck already being squished and cut and a knife scrape at the back of my head. For a second I had thought he'd let me go all the way through the machine. Regenerating from such extreme things is not too unpleasant. Mostly because I don't wake up until all my vitals are regrown and my heart started beating. By then it's usually not long until my limbs become useable enough to work. It's more annoying if I'm reduced to a limbless hollowed out stump except for my vitals. Without my stomach I cannot really eat to speed up the process. I'm fully awake, have nothing to do, and it sometimes itches a lot, too. Sometimes I can sleep, which results in the weirdest of dreams. It's odd. I have come to think of my body as an object that I can have done to whatever we feel like, without consequences. It's through these annoying waiting times that I kinda feel that this body is actually me. An integral part of me. And precious. Luckily that usually stops when I'm whole again and look down on me, or at my mirror reflection and get funny ideas what I could do or have done to me. There are a few things that fuck with the regeneration. One is alcohol. For some reason, when I'm really drunk the regeneration gets delayed a lot. And when I put alcohol on a fresh wound, it scars (after it burns like hell of course) instead of regrowing. That way I can make mutilations more permanent than they otherwise would be. Only if I reopen the wound, it then heals normally. Discovering that opened up the great field of body mods for me, and Greg made good use of it. I spent an entire week during semester holidays as his personal fluffy fuck pillow. No arms, no legs, not even stumps. But he also had gone to the trouble to remove my shoulder blades and my hip bone, so I was completely pliable in his hands. He liked it so much that, when he cut my head off, he put alcohol on the neck of the remaining pillow in the hope of preserving it. Unfortunately that didn't work. Without regrowing a head, it also didn't breathe and after a few days started decomposing. Those days were worth it though, for both of us. All that fooling around had my grades go down, so I used the same trick to get me less distracted. I used some kind of hook to rip my own womb out of me. That gave me one hell of an orgasm, and pouring an entire bottle of vodka into the gaping hole drove me over the edge right again. It kinda left me sex-less though, and - although Greg initially hated it - it did help me pass the midterms. My womb, ovaries and vagina in a jar over my desk served as a reminder to keep me busy and not get too crazy, although we still had sex occasionally. He just had to cut himself a suitable orifice. Greg got very creative and figured out all sorts of alternate buttons he could push, he even managed to get me to orgasm once or twice, which I have to admit was quite a feat considering how frigid that operation had made me. But it's all in the head, they say, isn't it? After the midterms, I cooked a surprise for him to make up for it. I managed to roast myself, that is, everything from the waist down, including my buttocks, although my legs had been removed. Then I sat on a plate when he came home and had him eat me, tenderly roasted, but still able to feel things in my roasted body. And the best was, after I regrew, I was whole again and of course horny like a bitch that hadn't been laid for two month. That was a wild night. One game that we occasionally play is, he tasks me with something trivial. Like cooking a meal, or giving him a blowjob, or cleaning the house. Then he sneaks up on me and makes it difficult. He has one of those Japanese swords, sharp as hell. If he does the cut just right, you don't even feel it at first. You make the next step, and your leg just - stays behind. It's so sharp that if I don't move quick enough, it even grows back on without me ever noticing. And even if it does come off, I can sometimes reattach it. One time, I stood leaning against the shelf, wiggling my furry gazelle rump and tail teasingly while dusting his shelf some. I hear the sword whistle and feel a slight tugging on my shoulder. I thought, OK, now my arm's gonna fall, but no, nothing happened. I shifted my weight a bit and felt this slight sting right between my legs. Only then I realized he had cut me in half, lengthwise. I put the dust cloth down and hugged myself, so I wouldn't fall apart, since, well it still was a game and I had to try to stay conscious after all. Then I looked down and saw the red drops from my pussy, where I slowly started gaping apart. I had to stand cross legged as if I was trying to hold my pee in. But still, there was this itch, and I couldn't resist pushing my halves a tiny bit apart from the bottom. It was so thrilling. That's when Greg sliced again. This time I saw the blade, and it cut through my waist, left to right. Now I was in trouble, I couldn't even make a step, or one of my legs, complete with half my hip would stay behind. With me now locked in place, I heard Greg take a step, and then he made two more cuts, followed by a third. I gasped. He had cut through my chest, twice, diagonally, from shoulder to waist. And the last cut would have lopped my head right of my shoulders had it been any more sloppy. I felt a tugging, sliding sensation on my upper arms, and then, with two wet plops, my arms dropped down and I lost all sensation, except for a burning in the stumps. "No fair!" I complained, then spun around and made a step towards him. I would have spread my arms to embrace him, but of course they were already uselessly on the ground. Falling towards him, I felt myself explode into pieces in one single odd but very thrilling sensation, then he caught my head gently, while the rest of my body splashed him in a shower of red. Experiencing an orgasm while being reduced to nothing but a head is quite a unique sensation. Not so great that I would recommend it to people who, unlike me, could only experience it once in a lifetime, but still remarkable. Almost worth the wait for my body to regrow. But I had still lost the game, as I did quite often. I got compensated with a passionate kiss and then he throat fucked my head from below until I lost consciousness. We tried a few odd things during one summer vacation far away from civilization. He video taped me from a safe distance, as I got to masturbate with a bar of dynamite. Unfortunately I must have lost consciousness as it blew, and I can't remember at all how being blown apart itself felt, but the video was definitely worth rewatching. I do remember the time when he poured gasoline over my legs and lower body, then set me on fire. Those screams were definitely loud, I could hardly believe it was my own voice that made them. It wasn't really that fun for me. I had thought I'd have enough control to masturbate while I burnt alive, or enjoy it at least a little bit, but the pain was so overwhelming I couldn't do anything but flail around and scream. Eventually, he had enough, too and cut my head off, so we could watch my remains burn in silence. The sad thing was, that my flesh was so burnt, it wasn't even edible anymore afterwards. The stench of my burnt fur and flesh also was pretty nasty, luckily we were far enough from anyone to be bothered by it. One thing, Greg really likes, is watching me take myself apart in various ways. He sits in front of me and plays with himself, as if watching a strip show, and a show I do give him. First I cut my tail off. My hooves are also neat. Like taking off shoes. He also collects them, I think he must have at least a hundred by now. They make nice knife handles. Sometimes I skin myself, take my fur off in one piece. Sometimes I leave it on all the time. I try to variate the theme. Take my legs off, or leave them on, or only one of them. I could gut myself, standing, or lying down or sitting. Seppuku style, or like a dissection. I think he liked it a lot when I left my left side intact, but started taking my right apart starting with my hooves, then my legs, then the skin up to my waist, following by muscles, bones, until I even took out half my hip. My internal organs I removed, except for vitals, and my womb I cut neatly in half so he could see its inside. At that point I really wanted to know how far I could take this, so I just kept going. My digestive system I took out, but when I got to my ribcage, I left my left lung and only removed the right. Then my right arm finally had to go. I started with each finger, making a show of it, and eventually removed shoulder blade, collar bone and all the ribs on the right side. Usually we leave my head alone, after all I don't want to end up a brainless vegetable by accident. But this one time I didn't stop. I took the skin off half my head, my right ear, and half my jaw. It helped that Greg had quite useful tools. I split my tongue in half, and removed everything from my right half except the actual skull. Now the only thing left was my eye. I get queasy about my eyes, but it helped that I didn't have an eye lid anymore to close it. Pulling it out of its socket was actually kinda cool. Then I cut the nerve. I saw a flash, and then only my left eye worked. At that point we stopped and instead tried to have sex. I had a lot of fun, but Greg had difficulties getting his dick to stay in my remaining vagina half. Eventually he gave up and just thrust it into my open belly wherever it felt nice. That night was exciting enough that I felt tempted to use alcohol on at least my torso, to see how long I could stay like this. But unfortunately classes were about to start soon after, so we had to get me regrown quickly. That's definitely something I want to do again. One fun thing that I can do to myself is mess with the regeneration. One way to do that is to obstruct the growth with bandages, tight clothing, or other objects in the way. What happens, is similar to when you put a rope around a tree and wait a few years. I grow around it, over it, and through it, sometimes in the weirdest ways. The first few times were accidental. For example, when I was still experimenting on my own, I had been masturbating with a little horse figurine, after I had mutilated myself pretty badly down there, I needed something hard and pointy to get off. I must have fallen asleep from the blood loss, and when I woke up, the figurine was gone. Except, it wasn't. It was now completely inside me, all the way in my womb, and I had completely healed over it. Needless to say that day was a bit odd, since I couldn't risk anyone finding out. That was before I found out how to speed up my regrowth with energy drinks. Greg once impaled me on a long pole, in through my cunny, through my whole body, and out my mouth. After an intense night, we both fell asleep without taking it out. The next day I felt perfectly fine, except I had problems getting up since I still had that pole stuck in me. It slid out easily enough, but as I found out during breakfast, it had left behind a perfectly healed straight hollow tube in me that connected my mouth with my vagina. Of course we immediately exploited that for a few kinky games. Greg had found out that he could make me heal up wrong by pressing two different injured parts together, sometimes with a bit of alcohol to make sure my regeneration got derailed. Once he had done that with my cunny. A cut along both my labia with a vodka-sterilized knife, which he then pressed together. It hadn't taken long until both sides had sealed together, leaving only seamless skin with a thin scar along the center where my sex should have been. Of course I still had all my equipment, it was just sealed inside. Greg didn't allow me to use anything sharp during this game, all I could do was ride his knee until I finally got off. I have to admit though, I kinda look hot with sealed up orifices. Anyway, this time he sealed my mouth, by cutting away my lips, then pressing them together. He did the same to my nose, and I found out I could actually breathe through my sex now. Then he insisted, I'd eat through my cunny as well, and fed me various things. That didn't really work except for liquids, after all I had no way to force things up into my mouth except by sucking. The last thing I remember was wild and ecstatic sex, complicated by the fact that I couldn't breathe with his dick in me. I must have passed out, and by the time I woke up, my lips were back to normal. But I kept messing up my panties every time I drunk something until my next decapitation. One of his more visible changes was a piece of plastic pipe stuck in my chest while I regenerated, which effectively kept an open access hatch to my chest. When I woke up, he had removed the pipe, but when I looked at me in the mirror, I was greeted by my exposed heard go badump, badump, badump. Thrilling, but inconvenient for class, so I wore a bra and a dark shirt, and hoped no one would look too closely. Needless to say, we did some kinky things in the evening. It's cool to feel your own excitement in your hand, as your heart beats faster and faster, while your boyfriend plays with you. I think he got more out of "heart fucking" than I did though. I passed out pretty quickly. One of our more recent plays involves cutting bits of me away and then have them regrow in the wrong place. Greg insisted on putting my vagina in my face instead of between my legs, as he had seen such an odd configuration on some porn art site. But even though it looked like a vagina, and, I have to admit, was pretty sensitive, his barbed dick still ended up inside my mouth on my tongue. In turn placed my facial lips down between my legs, but even though it felt weird, the hole still let to my womb. It's not like in some comics where my voice would suddenly come from down there. Sadly. Another thing we want to play with, but haven't gotten to yet, is altering my body layout completely. Greg had that great idea of cutting my legs off, then putting them in the fridge. Technically, even after two days, they should be alive enough to be reattached. But I also grew new ones since, so what we might do is put one pair of legs where my arms should be and have me walk like a feral. I know it doesn't perfectly fit, front legs look different from back legs, but still. Might be fun. I really wonder how far that can be taken. Maybe we can even make me into some sort of Gazelle-taur or something. If that doesn't work, I guess I'd still make a nifty Picasso style sculpture. You don't believe me? Do you? Well, try me. Here, take that knife, but careful, it's sharp. Lemme get rid of my clothes. There we go. And now use it. Get creative. Cut me, stab me, look inside me. Anything goes, as long as you leave my brain alone. Surprise me with something, maybe you find something I haven't tried out yet?