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Jeremy has been on the island for two weeks now and a lot has changed in him. He is no longer putting up a fight against the monster in vain. He has stopped trying to escape, stopped being violent.

He keeps telling himself that if he doesn't listen to Asterios, he'll have no choice but to give in. He is just a weak man against the demonic monster.

But this is only one of the superficial reasons. To be honest, Jeremy's body has changed so much that he can't act the way he used to. His milk supply increases so much since he has been interacting with the monster on a daily basis, and the sensation in his lower abdomen when he is in heat is different. Whereas when he first arrived on the island, his stomach felt like it was cramping and gurgling, now it is more of a squeezing sensation somewhere deeper.

The symptoms intensify to the point where Jeremy can no longer get through the heat on his own. As much as he hates to admit it, the only moments of pleasure on this free and barren island are when the monster fucks him hard.

All worries, all fears are gone when he takes the flesh inside him. That he shudders with unbearable excitement when he shoots his load.

Just one more, one more...

It's like a child's first taste of chocolate. One minute you're intoxicated by the sensation, basking in the pleasure, and the next you're wiping your eyes and rubbing your body because you want it again.

Worst of all, even when he's not in heat, the mere thought of Asterios sends shivers down his spine. By day, Jeremy spends boredom alone on the island, waiting for the sun to set, and when it does, he and the monster are everywhere. Beaches, streets, benches, storefronts...

Not only that. Jeremy realizes that there is something more terrifying than the fearsome jackal. It is his own adaptation to sex: Asterios would grope and rub his dick all over the place, but eventually Jeremy would open his legs and accept him. The more he learns to live with the monster, the more he accepts him... Jeremy thinks he is losing himself.

But without Asterios, he is alone. He doesn't have the strength to fight the heat of the night, and he doesn't want to fall asleep exhausted and wake up to nightmares.

So the middle-aged man keeps his complaints to himself. Not because he feels less angry, but because he feels his other emotions are flattened. He's not happy, he's not sad, he just feels dry and lethargic most of the day.

Jeremy hates it and is afraid. This is definitely not normal. He feels like he's becoming more and more like the monster, a shell of a human being who can't empathize with anything. Who should he call for help?

As the monster had said, he will eventually search for him.

Jeremy Rogers is definitely getting tamed by Asterios.

"Ugh..."

It is a morning like any other. A bright light illuminates the middle-aged man's eyelids. Barely opening his eyes, he checks the spot next to him out of habit.

Sure enough, it is empty. There's not even a trace of anyone lying there.

"......"

He slept very well last night. He didn't even have a nightmare. But somehow he can't figure out why he suddenly feels a chill in his chest. Two weeks ago, he might have thought it was better than having a monster. But no is different. Once he has experienced the comfort of an embrace, he has come to expect it. When he's lost in a dream, he needs someone to remind him that it's not real.

"Forget it, I don't want him."

That's how the middle-aged man, unknowingly feeling empty, expresses his slight disappointment. He's sure he'll feel bad when he has to argue with Asterios in the morning. Jeremy opens the window, and the fresh morning air pours into the room, but without the sound of birdsong.

Jeremy takes a moment to look out over the horizon, then with a staggering step he heads for the kitchen, still undressed. The first thing the island's sole inhabitant does upon waking is make a pot of coffee. The louder the water boils, the more the aroma fills the house, the more he realizes he is home alone.

Jeremy hates the stifling silence, but today he doesn't even have the energy to hum or talk to himself.

"...haah."

Jeremy sets his coffee down in front of him and lets out a small sigh. It's been a long time since he's been visiting his shop, of course, since there's no one to buy his sculptures. He hasn't watched TV or read the newspaper either, and every morning when he wakes up he often wastes his time in a daze with nothing to do.

Jeremy has been on the island for more than ten days now, and the silence is something he can't get used to. More than just not having anyone to talk to, being alone in the silence forces him to reflect on himself.

How long will he have to spend this punishing time, what will happen next... When he does nothing, a constant feeling of fear creeps inside him.

"......"

'I have to get out. My mind is rotting inside.'

He knows that running outside will not relieve his frustration, but he has no other choice. The middle-aged man scrambles to his feet, pulling on a pair of pants and a thin robe. He knows there is no one else on the island, but he makes sure to dress for the outside world.

Leaving the house, Jeremy goes to a grocery store and stocks up on beer, bread, and other snacks, then makes his way to the beach, where he flops down under a parasol. The warm, fluffy sand, sizzling sun, and clear water offer little comfort.

Cackle—

Once settled, Jeremy opens a can of beer. The middle-aged man is sure he would be accused of being drunk first thing in the morning if this were the usual crowded beach, but whatever, all he needs is a constant distraction from reality.

The infinity of time seems overwhelming. A man without purpose or will is easily seduced by addictive substances that cloud his mind.

"Max..."

Jeremy Rogers likes to drink, but he's not much of a drinker. The middle-aged man quickly drains a can of beer, sets the empty can aside, and whispers the name of someone he is forbidden to speak. The only deviation allowed when the monster isn't around.

The only thing Jeremy does during the day, when he's not mating with Asterios, is drink and reminisce about his fake memories: the hot streets he'd walked, the wide white sands where he'd played beach volleyball, and the water that felt so cold compared to the scorching sun...

Maximus.

The more Jeremy brings up memories of Max, the more he feels like the man is someone who existed so long ago. His throat burns with fear. He is sad. There's not much he can do to quench this boiling thirst and frustration. So Jeremy opens another can and starts drinking again.

"Mmhaah..."

The cold beer slowly turns lukewarm. Jeremy blinks, wiping the foam that runs down his chin with the back of his hand. He doesn't feel like he's drunk much, but he can feel the heat creeping up his face, loosening his mood.




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