Page 88 of Toxic Obsession

Chapter47

Wynter

November 1st, 2018

Holy shit! Dr. Metcalf brought his business partner into my session, and what a mind-blowing session it was! So much cock, I wasn’t sure what to do with it. Dr. Metcalf has opened a whole new world to me. Not only have we come up with a plan to retaliate against Lance, but the doctor has upped the rewards for my good behavior. Hell, I never thought I would get laid, much less with two men at a time. What they didn’t know was that I recorded the whole thing. I had to download it to my backup laptop so it wouldn’t ever be found, but I’m going to watch it over and over. Just thinking about today makes my dick hard as a rock.

Tomorrow, Dr. Metcalf said that he wants to talk to me. I have no idea about what, but the longer I work with him, the better I feel. Anger and rage are a powerful tool and he’s promised to help me redirect my emotions and take control of my life. I’m fucking ready to take the world by storm.

November 2nd, 2018

Sometimes I feel like Dr. Metcalf’s monkey. If I don’t like his suggestions of how to stand up to Lance, he berates me … tells me I’m useless, a sorry excuse for a man, and a fucking pussy, then gives me the cold shoulder for days. It fucks me up, and in a week, I come crawling back with evidence that I’ve done what he’s told me to, begging for him to love me again. I just thought a razor blade in Lance’s jock strap was a bit extreme. Yet I do exactly what I’m told. I’m his puppet. Just a slave to Dr. Metcalf’s suggestions, but I want his approval and the sex even more. I’m in way too deep, and I can’t seem to stop spinning.

I have to talk to Bell no matter what, but every time I open my mouth, no words come out.

Bell is still moody as hell, so it’s probably not best to talk to her yet anyway. I think she’s stressed over midterms. It stresses everyone out. I’ll call her and try to make her laugh. It might do me some good too.

November 13th, 2018

I’m not writing as much these days. Between school, work, and Dr. Metcalf, my schedule is full. Being with Dr. Metcalf consumes me. The sex with him and Dr. Craig is off the charts, and I’ve continued to record our secret sessions. If he knew, he’d fucking kill me, but I need to always have him with me. I’m his dirty little puppet and he’s my dirty little secret, but by the time I realized he was filling my head with shit, it was too late. I don’t think I could get free of him even if I wanted to.

December 18th, 2018

My mind is getting darker, and Dr. Metcalf is fucking toxic. How do I break free from the only man who’s loved me like he has? I know what he’s telling me to do is wrong, but I can’t stop. Thankfully, he gave me a meditation to listen to every night when I go to sleep. His voice is so soothing, and I’m sleeping my ass off. But my moods are fucked, and the horrible shit going through my head would send me to hell if anyone knew.

December 26th, 2018

Bell called me last night and she needs to see me. She sounds as bad as I fucking feel. The more time I’ve spent with Dr. Metcalf, the more I’ve pulled away from Bell. She thinks I’m mad at her. She has no idea that I’m trying to protect her from the goddamn devil.

December 30th, 2018

It’s almost 2019 and after meeting Bell, I was afraid to put this on paper in case anyone ever found it. Bell told me what’s wrong.

Wynter is the only person who knows about my hiding place, but she doesn’t realize the hole in the wall is bigger. My second laptop is hidden there too. Now, Bell’s secrets are hidden with mine.

I sat up in my bed and stared at the entry. If I turned the page, would I finally learn what happened? If Ky was willing to hide Bell’s secrets, then he still cared about her. I pulled my knees to my chest, ready to continue. Or I thought I was. Dr. Metcalf was already on my shit list and so was his business partner. What they did was despicable. But what if it was all in Ky’s head and these pages were his fantasies about this psychiatrist? Fuck, I needed that laptop, but how? I had a driver’s license, but I always drove mom’s Sentra when I was living at home. Gabby had left her car for me in case I needed anything, but a three-hour drive without her permission wasn’t cool. And an Uber would be way too expensive. It was time I asked for Gabby’s help.

I grabbed my phone and texted her even though I knew she was getting ready for the game. Without giving her all of the details, I told her I needed to take a trip to Washington on an urgent matter and would replace the gas if she was comfortable with me taking her car.

To my surprise, she messaged almost immediately.

Yes! I have full coverage insurance, but don’t crash my baby, please. Just park her at the parking lot where our buses will unload. I have a key with me. Love ya, bitch. Fill me in when I get there.

A cry of relief filled my room. Thank God we were close friends. I would have to find some way to pay her back for putting up with me. I returned to the journal, ready to finish Ky’s story before I made the trip home.

January 3rd, 2019

I feel sick all the time, unable to break free from the evil Dr. Metcalf. Last night, he introduced me to another of his clients, then charged him to have sex with me. The man I thought loved me fucking sold me for sex. He said that if I didn’t cooperate, he would report me as psychotic and have me locked away in a mental institution for the rest of my life. I puked on his fucking shoes, then took my clothes off for his client. My body was used and abused, ripping out my heart in the process. Betrayal doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt.

January 11th, 2019

I’ve been sold eight times now, and I can’t seem to claw my way out of hell. If I report Dr. Metcalf to the cops, he’ll have me institutionalized. I was so fucking stupid to think he ever loved me. He’s been my master, pulling the strings and dictating every evil thing I’ve done. I’m going to hell, but it would be better than what I’m living in now. Soon. Soon I will find a way out of this. I have to for Bell. She needs me.

January 25th, 2019

This will be my last entry. The last few will be on my laptop in case anyone gives a shit. It’s almost over, and if there’s peace on the other side, I doubt I’ll find it there either.

Fuck off, world. Fuck off, Mom and Dad, for not seeing signs that were under your fucking nose. Fuck off, Mrs. Smith, for not listening to me. Fuck off, Dr. Metcalf, Dr. Craig, and all the men you sold me to. Fuck off, Lance and all your bastard followers, for beating me nearly every day for almost six months. Fuck off, world.

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