Free The Beast and Me by D. S. Wrights

left alone.

Day 38
    I never thought of myself as a nymphomaniac, and maybe I am not. I don’t know. Maybe they just mix something into my food. I mean... I don’t take anything against... I don’t have pills to prevent pregnancy and he definitely doesn’t use any protection.
    What if this is what it’s all about? Not getting him more social but me... no. I refuse to believe that. It would be easier just to become... well, I’m not. I mean... if I calculate about right, I had my last period while being out due to my wounds. Well, I think I recall that on my first day back, I still had some... I don’t want to think about how they handled that while I was in a coma.
    Gross.
     
    No, White told me it’s about me being the Beast’s reward, so me, being pregnant, would make that quite difficult at some point.
    I have to believe it’s just about... doing it, right? Just a reward, sex and comfort and physical contact.
    And here we are again. I feel like they are mixing something into my food because I can’t stop thinking about it. I need it. I need him.
    I couldn’t fall asleep yesterday, so I... well... I took care of that problem myself. But it’s not the same as having him inside me, hearing him pant and moan and... stop!
    I shouldn’t think of that.
    Please God, just help me stop thinking about that.
     
    It’s about time that they either take me to my second round of gym or to him. I keep waiting. Maybe they don’t know or aren’t sure.
     
    I knocked. First no one answered and then after some moments the door was opened. The guard isn’t one of the two who molested me. He actually seems nice and that should make me think twice. His name is Peter. He actually gave me his name. It seems like he’s standing alone in front of my room, which doesn’t make much sense because there is no way for me to get out. There is not even a door knob on my side. But he was – I know I repeat myself – nice. Maybe he was there exactly for this: in case I would knock. Could they be so thoughtful? Somehow I doubt that, because it would mean I could inhale water.
    Peter wanted to know if everything was okay and I just asked for my schedule. There is none.
     
    Now I keep asking myself why I hadn’t knocked earlier. Peter really seems... nice... and well, he’s also handsome. I am sure that I should be careful.
    I mean, why would they put someone in front of my door, when I can’t even open it? I repeat myself, but someone as good looking as him? And then... what if White wants to make sure that I don’t get molested again and Peter’s looks are just coincidence? No, White has ordered this. Is this a test?
     
    Why do these memories keep coming back into my mind now? And why do they make me feel like that? Two pairs of hands invading me, no... it was awful. I didn’t want it. I don’t want it. They are trying to break me. I am sure. Maybe I should stop eating this stuff.

Day 39
    I wonder if there is a pattern. Not feeling like writing the whole day, because it felt like it just would be one of those tormenting days of boredom. I have decided not to talk to Peter in order to distract me from this, because – hey – he’s a guard, a soldier and not my friend. I shouldn’t befriend him. Just to be safe. Better be safe than sorry.
     
    White didn’t show up. But they came to take me again, not blindfolding me, not grabbing me. I could find the way easily by myself by now. Peter was one of those who took me and he briefly smiled at me. The other one didn’t notice it and I – idiot me – smiled back. Why did I do that?
     
    Like I said... I wasn’t blindfolded or bound and there was no voice from the speakers. The gate wasn’t removed. How much I wanted the opposite of this. I wanted to be shackled, blindfolded, that he could come over to... The thoughts alone made my heart beat faster and breathing speed up, turning shallower. I am a needy slut. There, I said it. But I didn’t want it to be like yesterday, I