Thirty three.

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EVA--

Muffled voices came into my hearing, I sat there with my eyes glued to the floor, my hair covering my face, I hummed to myself, drowning in the depths of my despair. It'd been weeks since he left me, left me to breathe without him, I didn't want to breathe without him. My therapist most likely thought I'd lost my mind like the rest of the people in this psychiatric hospital. The police gave up on me, I wouldn't speak to them or tell them anything about my time at captivity. I only spoke to my therapist here and there. She'd visit me everyday, trying to get me to tell her why I was so fucked in the head. I would laugh, it was funny, I had been stripped from my life and freedom, used and abused yet my heart still searched for the man who brung this upon me. Jane, my therapist said something about Stockholm syndrome, that the love I felt towards my master was all a delusion in my head. She said he'd brain washed me into feeling this way, little did she know, she was very and completely wrong. I knew what I felt was real, I didn't know why they tried to make me sound crazy. Probably to make their job easier and dismiss my case. I didn't care though, I couldn't give a flying fuck. I just wanted to be left alone. Jane's voice interrupted my humming as she strode towards me, her heels click clacking on the cold tile floor. I lifted my head and looked up at her long figure, short caramel blonde hair, big blue eyes, pouty lips. Even though she was pretty, I hated seeing her. I didn't need a babysitter or someone to try and make me feel better, I just wanted and needed my Master.

'How are you today Eva?' She smiled at me, her smile reaching her eyes but I could see the pity that lurked behind it. I ignored her, maybe if I stayed quiet enough, she'd get bored and leave, or maybe even, discharge me. 'You know, I got you coffee and some donuts' she waved the coffee and the donut bag in my face, I turned over on my bed and curled up into a ball. 'Oh come on now, I waited in the queue for about ten minutes for these, that's ten minutes too long, you can't reject them.' Her attempt at cheering me up was doing quite the opposite, she gave me a headache. 'Ok, alright. How about you tell me some more about this 'Master' of yours, tell me what exactly you miss about him.' She sat on the bed, my heart halted at her mentioning him. I groaned into the pillow and sighed. Fine, she won. Sitting up, I snatched the coffee out of her hands, she smiled at my gesture. Her eyes studying me as I sipped down the hot drink, letting it burn down my throat, I enjoyed the sting, the pain, I had missed being in pain. Missed being hurt under the cruel hands of my master. 'Talk to me Eva' she crossed her legs, a notebook and pen in hand. I wonder how much of my words she'd wrote down, I hadn't said much but when I did, it was all about master. 'Hi' I finally spoke out, she wasn't going to give up so I let her hear my voice and know that somehow I'm still alive. 'There we go, that's progress. How are you feeling right now?' She was pushing her limit, I said hi I didn't give a pathway to chit chat. 'Great' my response came out blunt, I didn't care, I didn't want to put too much effort into answering her repeated questions, I'd grown bored of them. 'You certainly don't seem so great, you know you can be honest with me Eva.' I hated every time she said my name. The only person I wanted to hear saying my name was my missing master.

She spent about an hour trying hard to get me to talk, when all of her tactics failed she put the donut bag on my bed, promised to be back tomorrow then left. I was thankful that I had my silence back, I found comfort in the quiet of this dull room. Who would've thought, at the age of 20 someone could already be so miserable. It was funny, here I was laying in a mental hospital, my life had barely begun and already, it'd ended. I lay back staring at the plain white ceiling, my mind wandering to the place it always wandered to, Kaleb. My heart sped up at the thought of him, I closed my eyes and saw him, his hands were on me as he possessed my body, making me yearn for his touch. I felt myself getting wet at the memories of him. My insides ached with need to feel his touch again, to feel him dominate me and have me writhe beneath him as he explored every inch of my body. My hand went down my stomach and into my panty. I ran my finger across the slick wetness that moistened the fabric that covered my skin. I searched for my clit, rubbing against it, soon after sliding a finger inside myself and working away at my insides. With every thrust of my finger, a flashback of him came to me, I touched myself again and again, repeatedly hitting my sensitive spot. My breath came in heavy as I got close to my undoing. I moaned out his name, my body shaking as I released my lust onto my finger. I did this everyday/night. Cumming to the thoughts of him. When I was with him, he made me cum everyday, I wanted to keep that going, it made me feel closer to him, although it never felt near as good as it did when he made my body explode, but it was something, something to keep the memories of him alive while I died a little more inside.

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