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?