A message to my few (But very treasured!) followers. I will not be able to post a new chapter next Friday on the 11th. I will try immensely to post some time during the week, though I am not making any promises. Also I know the first half of this chapter is not the most entertaining, but I promise it gets more entertaining towards the end. Thank you for reading and reviewing. I appreciate all of them. :)

Chapter 9

I'm back in my cell eating the grilled chicken salad they gave me for lunch. I'm starved after my un-enjoyable afternoon. I finish the plate and then set it outside my cell to be picked up by the cafeteria workers.

Analia has been gone for a while. I hope that nothing bad has happened to her, one can only hope in a place like this.

I wonder to myself where they have Elodie, not that I care much. It was only a matter of time before someone caught her and brought her in. Lord knows how many times I saved her from it, her capture was inevitable.

She asked me for help when she wasn't even willing to save me. Not that I could help her here, there is nothing to do other than to give advice, which I am unable to do as I still have none. There isn't a single piece of thought that I can think to give to any new person here that is the least bit helpful, other than what Analia had warned me.

I am so tired. This afternoon's activities have proved to be exhausting, so I lay down on my cot and try to get some sleep. I close my eyes and start to fade slowly in the darkness.

When I wake Analia is back, and there is no sign of guards anywhere, must be their breaktime. I lay on my bed and relax, then sit up when Analia calls over to my cell.

"Hey where were you?" I ask her. She stands across from me in her cell, looking beaten but fine.

"I had a client that rented me out for a few days. They can rent you however long they like, that's why I was gone so long."

"Oh," I pause, " I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she replies. "I was fed better than I ever was here, and he wasn't that bad, just took forever, he was a kinder one though."

"I wouldn't know the term even if I experienced it."

"You will, some are more gentle than others. Not all are abusive, not all of them toy with you, there are some decently plesant ones out there."

"You can't tell me you enjoy it though."

"There are days when I do, yes, but there's a lot of times when I don't. Most of the time I'm just not up for it, but the more gentle ones are enjoyable yes."

"I don't know if I'll ever get that far," I shake my head.

"You will honey, after you have that baby they'll put you back on the floor once you're healed enough. You'll find that some are enjoyable and make you actually feel good. None of them really ever care about you, but some at least make the effort. You are young, you'll learn what you like and what you don't. Some of the girls here like it better when they are rough and not gentle. It's all about preference. Not that it's what your going to get anyway, but at least you will some times."

I doubt this immensely, but to avoid an argument or further conversation I agree and sit back down on my bed. There really is nothing to do except wait to be taken to the showroom again or wait for the next meal or any other reason for them to take you out of the cell. Today there doesn't seem to be one.

I lay back down on my cot and wait for dinner to arrive. When it does, it's pork chops and a baked potato along with green beans. Very filling.

Once I am done, I return my plate and wait. A guard comes and picks it up, and then leaves once again. I am left alone for a few hours until someone comes and fetches me, and I am taken to the showroom.

I am dressed in fancy lingerie and paraded with the other girls that are unfortunate enough to be in this position. Eventually the customer decides on a small redhead with green eyes and a curved figure. I feel sorry for her, but am also glad it is not me. I could use a break from this, then remember I will have a 9 month break very soon.

I only hope I can learn the whole of this facility and attempt an escape before that happens. I know it's impossible, but hope is what keeps most of us going in here. Without hope, we would be even more emotionally starved than we already are.

I spend the night in my cell, thanking whatever force allowed me to have an easy day. There is not many times that this will happen I know, but I can only hope it will be more calm for the duration of my stay in this cell before I move to the maternity wing.

I awake in the morning and I know my prayers of serenity are not answered as I am awakened by a loud banging on my cell door.

I rise and hold my hands out to the guard who bounds my hands once more and I am taken to the medical wing where I am weighed and my vitals are taken before I am brought to a room and wait for the doctor or nurse to enter.

After a few minutes a nurse enters and says nothing as he takes blood from my arm and runs to do testing. He tells me nothing except to wait and that the doctor will be in very shortly.

I wait for an eternity before the doctor comes in holding a wad of papers that I assume are about me. He sits down in his chair without acknowledging me, types away at his computer, and then spins his chair around to me.

"This is just an immediate check prior to your fertilization, making sure everything is all set to go before the due date," he says, pausing for me to take this in. "We have other news as well. We have found a donor, so when the time comes you will not be artificially inseminated, but instead loaned to a male donor who is willing to fertilize the egg."

I say nothing as I am unable to change this. The idea of someone agreeing to bring a child into this world is sick, I don't understand the dominant male world anymore. It is nothing but brutality and irrationality. I am disgusted and appalled, and I no longer want anything to do with it. I truly believe I am better off dead.

After my appointment with the doctor I am not taken back to my cell, but instead to the showroom and paraded once more. I am not chosen the first time, but I am kept for several rounds. They are busy today and They have what others are not chosen and bring in new ones as well. I am chosen on my third round by a blonde man with brown eyes. He looks cruel, but when I am taken to his car he is surprisingly gentle.

He drives us to his home and un-bounds me and offers me food. I accept and am given an assortment of cheese and crackers along with nuts and berries. They taste like heaven on my tongue and I wash it down with a splash of wine. We talk somewhat before he seduces me to the bedroom and I now know what it is like to have a man be gentle.

He takes his time undressing me and then commands me to do the same. I do it slowly as he did me and then grab his shaft and lick. He groans in pleasure and I groan back to make him feel better. I can be generous if he is gentle.

He stops me and then pushes me gently to the bed and has me lay on it then crawls over me. He wets his hands with lubricant and then eases a finger inside me. I groan for his satisfaction and he responds by kissing my breasts and easing another finger in. It actually isn't so bad as Analia had told me. It isn't enjoyable, but the lubrication makes things smoother and bearable. The man who has me is gentle as well, which is a nice change.

He stops playing with me and then gets to business, easing inside me and takeing it slow, easing in and out at a relatively slow pace. We go on for hours, or so it seems. He takes his time and when he is close he quickens his pace and spills himself in me before pulling himself out and cleaning up and allowing me to dress. I feel the ache in my groin from going so long, and I know that tomorrow I will be sore. Still I am thankful I have been granted a gentle client. I can only hope my donor will be as such.