Can You Survive Blaine Boysmell/Acceptance

"I'm ready whenever you are. Go ahead and experiment on me, or whatever."
The captor nods solemnly, raising his tools. He almost seems to hesitate for a moment.
"I'd like to savor this, seeing as I'm not likely to receive another subject as...well, as chill as yourself. But it wouldn't do to let cooperation go unrewarded. Better to encourage the behaviour I prefer, hm?"
There's a sudden pain in your thigh, but it's short-lived. You're injected with an unknown substance, and naturally you panic for the briefest of moments...but then...
But...then...
Ah...
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You're overcome with a sense of serenity. Heroin, maybe? You aren't sure. You don't care. You're relaxed as can be, and you can't feel a thing.
"There you are. Here's the deal: I've got a lot of work I need to get caught up on, and your body is the only one I've got at the moment..."
He's cutting into you as he speaks, and still there isn't an ounce of pain or pressure.
"That anaesthetic is of my own design- an example of the sort of progress we can make when we're willing to make sacrifices like this. There's more than enough to last you the rest of your life, so please, continue to cooperate."
You're loopy, almost drooling now. The rabbit boy's face is all wobbly, and the room's spinning around...you can't help but giggle.
"Regrettably, there's no path forward that ends with you leaving this room alive...but I will ensure the whole experience is painless, so long as you continue to be so pleasant. I trust we have a deal."
You aren't entirely sure what he does to your body. Again, you don't feel a thing...but the surgery is lengthy. You awaken a while later, your senses restored, sporting several large scars in various parts of your body. It feels as if something, or some number of things, was implanted inside of you...
There's an anxiety. An undying unease. The dread of knowing that you will be dead within months, and indeed, you are killed precisely 66 days after the initial surgery...but the captor keeps his word. There's not an ounce of pain.
A final injection sends you into your endless slumber, with a parting whisper from the bun:
"You were great. I'll meet you in Hell one of these days...and I'll pay you back. Promise."
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=ENDING E - THE ODDLY SENSUAL, 66 DAY LONG MURDER OF THE WORLD'S CHILLEST PERSON=