Massacre State Asylum

monique_minx

Passionate Disgrace...
Joined
Sep 27, 2009
Posts
8,248
OOC: This thread is closed to a wonderful cast of ladies. Please comment in the OOC thread if you feel compelled >>
http://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?t=729002 Minx and the cast would like to thank you for reading and hope you enjoy our story as it unfolds...


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Eva Dumingo

The wheels of the car crunched slowly over the long gravel driveway and the steel gates loomed ominously, towering metal that reminded Eva of a photograph she’d seen in one of Master’s textbooks; a world war two concentration camp. Eva’s brow furrowed in nervous anticipation as she read the sign to her right when the car halted for the gates to open. It read simply ‘Massacre State Asylum’ and her eyes squinted to read the print beneath it; ‘Solvo mens of decrepitus’. Eva knew it was Latin but she was buggered if she knew what it meant.

She rocked back as the sign disappeared from view and the car was in motion again. Eva turned to Mayumi and nodded to her, telling her in the utter silence they were both accustomed to; everything was going to be okay. She was dressed in a simple summer dress and while she wasn’t used to being so covered up; she wasn’t about to show anyone that it bothered her in the slightest. The handcuffs felt a little comforting, she couldn’t figure out why anyone would find them restricting but hell; she’d try to get in trouble often if it meant she got to wear them. Eva almost giggled aloud over that, she knew normal law abiding citizens didn’t try to get arrested but Master would have most certainly have a field day with that one.

When her thoughts turned to him, she tore her eyes from Mayumi and stared out the window while the building slowly appear to her side. She would never let Mayumi see her sad, she vowed this in silence and chastised herself for being so utterly useless to her sister submissive. Mayumi counted on her to be the strong one, the smart one, the one who told her what to do and took care of her in Master’s absence. Well, he was certainly absent…

It had been a car accident, he wasn’t driving but he was certainly paying for it now. They’d fought to stabilize his condition or so she’d been told when his only emergency number came up as Eva Dumingo. She’d been shocked when she answered the phone, not having heard her own name let alone her last name in years. Then she’d been told how he’d fought for his life, how they’d manage to stabilize him and last but certainly not least; how he was now in a comatose state and asked her if he had any family. Eva told them firmly that she’d handle it and went to rifle through his study. He’d mentioned family to her once or twice but never really spoken about them at all, he didn’t seem to be very close to whatever family he had in the world.

She finally managed to find a phone number for his sister and called her, the woman had no idea who Eva was but it wasn’t surprising since Eva didn’t know her either. It took a few minutes to get the woman to actually listen to what she was saying before she sharply asked Eva for the hospital’s phone number and hung up after Eva read it out to her. Then she’d gone to find Mayumi and get them both presentable since she’d been told that the sister was going to come over. It turned out three days later that not only the sister but his parents and a team of well dressed lawyers turned up at the front gate of the sprawling mansion and Eva had no choice but to grant them entry of course.

It had been hours of conversation during which Mayumi went mostly ignored and happily so, they spoke to Eva since she’d been involved from the start and had taken the hospital’s call. Mayumi never spoke unless she was directly addressed and even then she’d looked to Eva who could tell how uncomfortable she was. Eva tried to field as much of their questions as she could but more than once she had to cave to interruptions and had an unnerving sensation that she was being interrogated rather than asked nicely in spite of the kind wording. How something is toned is important and she could tell when Master was annoyed, angry, pleased or sad at any given point. Mayumi knew it too, his family weren’t so much different in their own tones; most of which were unpleasant to say the least.

Finally the lawyers simply told the family they needed to take charge of Scott’s business, his home and his two ‘girlfriends’ as they kindly put it. Eva wrinkled her nose at the use of such a title, it wasn’t really fitting, she might be a girl but she’d never say she was Master Scott’s ‘friend’ of all things. The father had instantly protested taking care of Scott’s two ‘trollops’ and while he roared it in anger, Eva smiled inside; she preferred being called a trollop to a girlfriend. At least someone understood their relationship even if they were disgusted by it.

Eva leaned over at that point and whispered a hiss of a word evilly into Mayumi’s ear, “Trollop…”

She grinned at her sister submissive and cleared her throat, glancing back at the proceedings within Scott’s living room again. Lawyers were flicking through papers, some seemed more nervous than others and Eva counted six at a glance; why so damn many anyway? Eva shook her head, one lawyer was simply one too many but half a dozen? Ridiculous!

It came about that a police officer was called to the residence to be consulted, he and his female partner took about an hour to arrive during which Scott’s family were contented to argue further with their lawyers while Eva and Mayumi stepped into the kitchen to get drinks for all involved. They poured themselves, the police and the lawyers all lemonade while setting out some of Master’s scotch, not his good stuff; never touch his good stuff. They just shook their heads in silence at each other and glanced out the open archway to the bickering family.

Mayumi took up the tray of lemonade and Eva stopped her with a single hand, making her look back, “This could go badly cunt. Really badly for us…you never leave me. Not ever. Understand?” Eva’s eyes hardened and she waited for Mayumi to nod before she released her arm.

“Go. Don’t spill.” Eva smacked her lightly on the ass and smiled before she took a deep breath and picked up the tray with the scotch, walking back into the hell that was the room at that point.

She’d been lucky, Eva thought as she stepped out of the police car and stared up at the building, noticing the two well dressed women who stood waiting for them on the steps, she’d been lucky having known Master’s actual name, they’d not been given a reason to declare them insane until Mayumi’s little whisper to Eva was overheard. They mightn’t have known what she asked her but it was pretty clear that ‘Master’ was heard by everyone.

“Why won’t they let us see Master?” That was the question Mayumi proffered to Eva and it was at the last moment that the hush had fallen, it remained just that silent and Mayumi had shrunk in her chair when she realized they were staring at her.

Eva hung her head with the creeping doom she felt over it, the whispers broke out in the room and the police nodded to Scott’s mother. The house was combed through while Mayumi and Eva were escorted to the police station to be questioned on whether or not they could care for themselves adequately. When the marks were discovered, they were asked over and over if they’d ever cut themselves and what Scott had done. Mayumi however had gone mute long before then, terrified that she might be overheard saying something to Eva as well while Eva had answered their questions and skirted those that might land her Master in any trouble. She had to be honest but if she couldn’t do that and keep her Master safe then it was all useless. The organization that raised her had simply taught her better than that. Loyal to Master first and Eva truly was.

Next they were deemed mentally unstable for the answered questions and the general police manipulation tactics failed to work on Eva, she would not break and tell them Scott had ever harmed her; he had not in truth but how could they ever understand her like her Master did? No, that would never happen and she’d not fool herself for a minute that these people would believe she liked to be hit, they already saw this as a bad thing. Something to fear, something to punish…oh Eva, come back to the present…

She blinked and her hands were released from the cuffs, she almost mourned for the taste of the metal on her wrists now long gone. She picked up the suitcase, it was light and filled only with what suitable clothes they’d found within the house for her along with some cheap ones from an op shop, Mayumi had needed even more than Eva with hardly anything of her own. Eva had been able to take but a few keepsakes from the house, she’d snuck them but was pretty sure the female police officer saw her with the photograph and looked the other way. Eva reminded herself that she needed to thank that woman someday. She offered her free hand out and locked it in Mayumi’s without looking at her, she didn’t need to know Mayumi would either be in step or too scared to stray far from Eva. They walked up to the two waiting women, nowhere else to go with the high razor wire fences surrounding the entire building and surrounding lands which belonged to the Massacre State Asylum.
 
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Mayumi Oshiro

Mayumi didn't know this, but she was the daughter of Leah Ryan, the American owner of a very exclusive escort agency. Her father was Dai Oshiro, a former client of Leah's, a Japanese businessman who treated her like an old style geisha, showering her with gifts whenever he visited the states. Leah had never been interested in marriage or motherhood but she unexpectedly fell pregnant at the age of 41 and Dai was the only man she had slept with around the time of conception. Leah had planned an abortion but in the end she confessed to Dai and he begged her not to terminate. Leah was talked around by Dai's protestations of undying love and more specifically, by the money and gifts he sent her while she was pregnant. He announced that he was going to leave his wife and move to the USA. When Mayumi was born however, he chickened out. Leah was left with a baby she had never wanted in the first place, until she was contacted by the organisation. She sold the baby without a second thought.

Mayumi had had to make some adjustments during her young life. She had been raised to slavery almost from birth and like Eva she had believed that it was the natural order of things, what intelligent, beautiful women were destined for. As a child, the secretive and exclusive organisation that had raised her were not convinced she was psychologically suited to slavery. Mayumi was intelligent and obedient enough but there was a sadness about her that not even she could name. She and her sister potentials had all been raised to believe that a man's word was law and that men often enjoyed bondage and inflicting pain during sexual intercourse. Her tolerances to clamps, implements, taxing poses and other aspects of sexual service were all satisfactory but Mayumi failed to become aroused or show any of the naive anticipation that the other girls did. She functioned like a robot, an educated, highly trained and docile servant who never smiled or cried.

Much emphasis was placed on instilling in the girls the principles of slavery and how despite the station they aspired to being described as such, they were expensive commodities that would be valued and cherished by whoever bought them, that the buyers were carefully screened. The girls were all reassured by this, except for Mayumi. Somehow none of it sat quite right with her. When she masturbated at night, as all the girls did, her fantasies were not of a loving Master who would take her away and make her his life companion but of escaping the opulent surroundings she lived in and finding herself on a dirty street. In her mind's eye she would get accosted and raped, called filthy names and beaten till she could hardly move. She would cum as her imaginary assailant left her there for dead, then blush guiltily and try to sleep.

When Mayumi had turned eighteen she had not been auctioned. It had been made known that she was available for sale but only if a suitable owner took a shine to her. She was considered to be emotionally fragile and potentially one of the organisation's rare failures. Had she not been such an exotic beauty she would not have been kept in the programme nearly so long. There were always failures, girls who were 'relocated.' They were the ones who had grown up to be dull witted, plain looking or simply too rebellious. Her Master had viewed her and then bought her as his first slave. But Mayumi simply couldn't handle being an expensive luxury, a valued and well treated possession, it made her miserable. Her Master had only learned this some weeks after he had made his purchase, the night his patience had run out.

Exasperated by her inability to bond with him and knowing the organisation would dispose of her if he returned her, Master had lost his temper and vented his anger on her. He had beaten her for being ungrateful and threatened to kill her himself. He had told her that the price he had paid for her was nothing to him, that he could waste her worthless ass, sleep like a baby and then acquire a harem the next day if he chose to. She had cum all over him while he choked her, soaking his cock with her first gushing orgasm, convinced she was about to die. From that moment on he had understood what mastering little Mayumi would involve. When he treated her with cruel indifference and made her believe she was truly worthless to him, then she thrived and slaved willingly, then she was whole. Beneath her fragile and innocent appearance there was a creature of unadulterated masochistic depravity, who could take a great deal of physical and psychological abuse. Fortunately for her, he set about becoming the kind of utter bastard that she needed, inflicting humiliation, degradation and violence that he never would have thought a woman could endure or enjoy, taking her psyche apart piece by piece and pulverising her self-esteem into dust. He set about truly mastering her, body and soul, crafting a suitably pitiful existence for her that kept her service optimal and her focus solely on him. Now her devotion to Master was absolute, there was literally nothing she would not do for him.

Two years later, he purchased Eva. Mayumi had expected to feel jealousy and resentment at having to share her Master but Eva had completed them both. Despite being younger, she quickly became the alpha slave and she towered over Mayumi's tiny five foot frame. Eva was a very different slave to Mayumi and it took her time to comprehend the profound contentment Mayumi derived from the way Master treated her. Eva also needed time to be reassured that she would not be expected to live exactly as Mayumi did and suffer all the things she could endure, that she could find her own place within the household. Master was able to indulge more of his romantic side with her, with the added bonus of deliberately making Mayumi feel superfluous and unworthy of his affection. Eva proved to have a switchy streak and so she dominated Mayumi when it suited her. Mayumi quickly became as devoted to her sister slave as she was to Master.

When Eva had told her about Master's accident, Mayumi had been shocked to her core. It had taken such a traumatic event to make her adjust and thrive as his slave that she simply couldn't handle the notion of him not being there, ruling his home with an iron fist. Eva went on to tell her about Master's sister and Mayumi shook her head. How could a woman Master had had nothing to do with for at least the seven years she had been his slave be considered family?

"We are his slaves, his own. We are the ones who should be making decisions about his care."

Mayumi had retained her optimism even as she had dressed herself in a kimono in order to receive Master's family. So many people had arrived though, looking so angry about everything, that Mayumi simply shrank away from them. Eva was the one who did all the talking, who realised that slavery was not considered to be a normal relationship, never mind that Master had two slaves. Because she was half Chinese, people assumed she was foreign anyway and Mayumi was content to keep her mouth shut. Then police turned up, which had really freaked her out. Everyone was glaring at her and Eva and she didn't know why, Eva hadn't had time to explain to Mayumi what was really going on. In the kitchen she had been brief and enigmatic, making Mayumi promise to stick with her without telling her why she was so concerned. It just made Mayumi panic further.

She had picked totally the wrong moment to speak. Mayumi had been quiet but just at that moment a hush had descended on the room. She had managed to take Eva to one side, desperate to know what was going to happen to them now. But her first concern wasn't for either of them, which proved to be a grave mistake.

“Why won’t they let us see Master?”

For a long moment nobody had even breathed. Mayumi had flushed scarlet and fallen silent again but the damage was done. Mayumi had kicked herself a million times for being stupid enough to utter those words.

She had not spoken since.

After that interrogations had begun in earnest. The girls had been raised to be utterly loyal to their Master and the organisation. After dropping them in so much shit with that one enquiry, Mayumi simply refused to say anything else. Eva was the one with the smarts and the nerve to take these people on. Eva could talk all day and not give away anything important. Exasperated police yelled at her, accusing her of terrible things but to no avail. One man who was senior enough not to be wearing a uniform announced that her total lack of official paperwork meant she could be considered an illegal and simply kicked the fuck out of the country if she didn't cooperate. Mayumi just sat there, tears streaming down her face, as everything she had ever been taught was revealed to be sordid, illegal or simply untrue.

Having gone through so much in order to accept slavery and bond with her Master, after enduring so much at his hands as he set about fulfilling her depraved needs, after becoming a creature of such total compliance and trust to a man who had allowed her to believe that slavery was an accepted and respected norm for accomplished women, after having her whole life's education torn down, declared illegal and immoral...

Well if she hadn't been insane before, she was more than halfway there now.

What if they were right, the experts and the police? What if she had been sold into slavery and brainwashed? What if her Master hadn't unlocked her innermost desires? What if he had simply traumatised and conditioned her into accepting and normalising his abuse? Stockholm Syndrome they had called it. They threw so many ideas and accusations at her, trying to shock or shame her into opening her mouth.

But she wouldn't. She just sat there and silently doubted everything she had ever known.

Now they had been committed to an asylum. Mayumi was considered to have dependent personality disorder, masochistic/self defeating personality disorder, selective mutism and anorexia. She had not eaten since those people had entered Master's house and she would not eat anything under that asylum roof. They could drug her and make her talk. They could poison her.

As far as Mayumi was concerned, they could do anything and 'they' encompassed more than the police and the staff at Massacre. Master's family had a great deal of money and influence. If they wanted two nameless 'trollops' dead and buried, they could make it happen.

Mayumi stuck close to Eva, taking the hand her sister slave offered and holding it tightly. She wouldn't let Eva down, or Master. She would die before she ate or spoke, and willingly. What else was there to live for if Master didn't recover? What was the point of being alive if it meant she risked being manipulated into giving away sensitive information.
 
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Tessa stood at the door as the two new shells approached. She didn't normally greet arrivals at the door like this, but there'd been a phone call she hadn't paid much attention to, and then a conference call she'd paid even less attention to. There was something special about these two, and McNair, who HAD been paying attention, suggested gently that it would be in everyone's best interests if they went through these pointless motions.

Her Coven was having much more fun. Uli was painting something, sharing with the others, and not Tessa. Thats the problem with being the driver; you sometimes get left out. Uli would likely be unhappy later once these formalities were over.

Formalities.

McNair had prattled on about these two, and Screaming Janey would have notes if it was at all relevant, but right now, Tessa was just looking at shells. She'd find out later if there was anything worthwhile in them.

There was a brief conversation, and she had been turning to Dr. McNair to tell her to show the girls around the compound or get Myers or Stewart to take care of it.

Tessa blinked and was back in her office.

“Shit,” she cursed under her breath. One of the others ad yanked her out and taken over for a bit. That was fine, it got her away from the noise, but now she couldn't be sure what had happened or what she'd said. It didn't matter very much, she supposed, but if it had been Uli, she might of made her look weak in front of the new shells. Not that this illusion would go on for long, but still.

The office wasn't spartan so much as it was made of exceptionally clean lines. Sleek, metallic desk and chairs, a large LCD screen on one wall, a bookshelf appropriately stocked, and a few pictures to complete the illusion. Besides the main entrance, there were three more doors. One lead back into Tessa's apartment, one lead to The Room, and the other to the Panopticon.

The Panopticon was where she truly lived. And, as always, it drew her within. The room itself was round, and covered in displays and screens of various sizes, all interlocked in various ways. It was a mosaic. The design people had done a fantastic job, and had implemented an elegant interface, allowing Tessa to bask in the composite views of her domain (and, for that matter, any cable or satellite station she might want) without having to put much thought into it. It allowed her, and the Coven, to put patterns together. Hundreds of cameras all over the facility fed into the room, images overlapping, sometimes switching, some showing nothing but a blank wall, while number 302 showed how, somehow, Lenore had gotten a hold of yet another sliver of metal and was carving her own body again.

Tessa enjoyed Lenore quite a bit.

Tessa basked in the glow and the information and the promise of the worlds within the shells she watched.

Finally, she noticed Dr. McNair on one of the screens, and watched.
 
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Dr. Trista MacNair stood in the cool autumn day and shivered. What the hell was she doing out here, in front of the cold gray building next to her boss, Dr. Tess Massacre? Two high profile patients.

Trista had gotten the call two days ago. Two women, severe psychosis, lots of money. These women were to stay here. The orders were that it was to be quiet, lots at risk for those who know where they were coming from. Since money was involved and the lawyer on the other end was a good lay, Trista kept her mouth shut, and told Tess what she wanted/needed to hear.

Waiting on the car, Trista stared at her boss. Dr. Tessa Massacre and the namesake of the building, in front of which they stood. The woman was an enigma. One minute doling out orders and running the asylum with all the efficiency and warmth of a drill sergeant; the next playing on the floor with the girls, and still the next; holed up in her office, door locked the sound of screaming coming from within. Trista shook her head. She was odd, but she couldn't deny the woman was hot as hell, and the odd changes in personality both confused and intrigued Trista.

Calling on some of her Daddy's cronies on the state board, Trista had gotten Tessa's files pulled and sent to her. One dark and rainy night Tris opened the file after Tess had left, halfway in, she turned on more lights.

From Patient file 17353
Entry 102: Further updates will likely be in colloquial, if not casual, language. Quite simply, we are in unknown territory. There isn't appropriate terminology for some of this.
More, its just too amazing.
In 9 months, my team of 11 has taken a catatonic little girl and built a personality within her. Or, at least, have put down the foundations. She seems to respond to direct questions, significant stimulus, and so forth. Certainly, there's a lack of affect, but we knew this would take time. The fact that she interacts with the outside world at all is amazing in and of itself.


Trista had been floored by what she was reading.

Entry 328: Tessa has begun holding conversations. Limited to be sure, but real conversations with abstract concepts. She does seem to shift from mood to mood quite rapidly, and randomly.


Trista had looked for more, more on this little girl who had gone from catatonic to running the show. But there was nothing. The file seemed expunged. She even tried calling in a few more favors and could find nothing more. She was completely intrigued by her boss, and the woman had so far proved untouchable.

Not that this was the case with everyone at Massacre State Asylum. The nurses had been welcoming, even the klutz, Stewart, seemed perfectly harmless and charming. In the six months that Trista had been working here, she felt like she fit in, better with some more than others. The warden was a hard ass, in more ways than Trista would even admit to herself. Still she kept the girls safe and that was important.

The girls, her girls as she affectionately referred to them we're an adorable bunch of crazies. Not that she could actually refer to them as that, but that's what they were. Adorable and certifiable. Most of them had case files that took up three drawers, it was almost too much for Trista to bear. But she did. Though she wasn't sure why. She liked her job.

There, that's why she was standing in the cool October morning watching as a sleek sedan pulled forward and out stepped two beautiful creatures. One with the long red hair held the hand of her asian friend. They seemed close. Trista felt a twinge of jealousy. She wanted that closeness with another person. Then inwardly she chuckled, she did have that closeness with another, like thirty others in fact. The two women moved towards them hesitantly. Trista smiled hugely, and did her best "lets not scare the newbies" imitation.

The girls were rushed into the building and through intake, their meager belongings taken to their rooms by the orderlies. Dr. Massacre, it seemed was on auto pilot, and a little handsy, more than once Trista had to intercept a hand that was reaching out to finger hair or whatever else, she just nicely and quickly placed that hand back at Tess's side. Trista sent Tess back to her office mid way through the tour, and just in time to see Tammy stage a melt down at the med counter. Trista smiled and stepped in Eva's and Mayumi's line of sight, just as the orderlies dragged Tammy away. Trista made a mental note to see to Tammy's meds, and drastically lower the dosage. She'd come running to Tris to have it fixed.

Trista dropped the two girls off in the recreation room, pointing out their fellow patients in Ward 2, Bobbi and Tammi. Trista turned and headed back to the Office and Admin area, bending over to flirt with Jack, the door guard, not aware of the camera on her.
 
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It had been 4 days since her arrest, but Tammy was unsure of that herself. She stood in line behind a couple of other patients at the nurse’s station, scratching her arm as it itched trying to recall the events of the past few days.
She remembered standing on her usual dealing and whoring corner of 34th street and Jackson Avenue taking a drag of a joint, as a nice looking African American male approached her, smiling. She looked him over thinking to herself how she would like to party with him. Before she could say anything, he had asked her about where to get some good weed from. She smiled and reached into the pocket of her jeans, pulling out a bag filled with several ounces of Mary Jane. The man made an offer which Tammy accepted and the transaction was made. He had paid her so much more than what usual customers paid for.

Tammy started to count the wad of cash the man had given her that she didn’t notice the man return with two cops behind him. She didn’t notice they were there until they slapped the cuffs onto her wrist. Then she realized she been tricked and was screaming and fighting as the put her into the squad car. When they got to the station, she was placed in an isolated cell for the night so she would sober up and calm down before placing her with the regular inmates. The man who turned out to be an undercover cop whom bought the weed from her was placed to guard her cell and make sure she didn’t harm herself.

Later that night, as the guard was started to doze off when he was awakened by Tammy’s shrieking. The guard ran over her cell and saw she was on the floor, sitting on her knees, back towards the outside of the cell, her sobbing echoing throughout. The guard thought maybe she might have been praying out loud before he heard her yell out, “Fuck you, you fucking leprechaun. I’ll never suck your dick, you can’t make me. I don’t care how much fucking gold you have.” Without missing a beat, Tammy’s head swings to the side as she shrieks in pain, and then within another half second her crying stops Tammy’s cheeks looked puffed up and doing a back and forth bobbing motion with her head. The guard who was very confused at the moment thinking she should be sobered up by now, called the warden and started to record her actions with his iPhone to show what she been doing.

The warden arrived shorty to notice the scene happening in Tammy’s cell, only now Tammy had her jumpsuit unzipped and was on all fours calling out; “Mmm fuck my ass harder Mr. Leprechaun. Mmm it feels so good.” At first they both thought Tammy was putting on an act just to piss them off, but when the warden tried yelling at her to knock it off, it seemed his threats weren’t getting to her. The warden was getting angry for no one has ever been able to ignore his threats like this before. That is when he figured out they weren’t dealing with an average junky, that something was seriously wrong with her. He left to make a phone call. By the time he came back, Tammy was curled on the floor naked. The warden told the guard to keep watching her the rest of the night and to get her ready to be escorted to Massacre Asylum in the morning.

The morning came and Tammy was escorted to Massacre Asylum without incident. She was brought in and orientated into the program without hardly any resistance. The first two days went very well, but that was because after morning medication, Tammy usually went back to sleep for most of the day, only getting out of bed to eat. She noticed the medication wasn’t as strong or the amount pills she’d usually pop, but they seemed to trick, for due to her long term exposure to drugs, the only time she really felt calm was when she was high. But today was different, something wasn’t right. Today she noticed her skin started to itch, it itched so bad it almost stung. Then she noticed the reason her skin was so itchy. In her mind, she saw hundreds of bugs digging and burrowing through her skin. She was scratching violently at herself trying to kill the bugs she saw in her head. She couldn’t believe how long this line was; it seemed to stretch for miles in her delusional mind. She thought if she could get more of her medication, it would kill the imaginary insects. As she finally got to the head of the line, she started to stammer as she tried keeping the invisible creepy crawlies off her. “I…I need some more……medication….please.”

The nurse just shook her head no. Tammy started pounding on the multi-layer glass. “Please God dam it. I…I need the meds to kill these fucking bugs!” Tammy shows the nurse her infested arms, which of course really wasn’t the nurse, told her that she wasn’t going to give meds to some junky so they could get high. By this time, Tammy so caught up in her own psychotic hallucination that she believed the bugs were now entering her throat causing her to drop to the ground clutching her throat. Most of the doctors and nurses just watched her thinking she is just acting out for more meds, but one compassionate and inexperienced nurse; rushed to Tammy’s side and shot her with a tranquilizer. The tranquilizer took a few moments to knock her out, before Tammy was carried back to her room.
 
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Celestine

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Two days ago, the whispers had started. There were to be some new ones, some very troublesome ones, brought in for help. Luckily, for the Asylum, those to whom these paticular patients might prove to be nettlesome had the money, the wherewithal, to make any problem, disappear. And so, the great white womb had rushed to open it's arms and bring these little lost ones, home. Celestine had wondered about it but, as usual, her place wasn't to question, only to tend to the girls once they were within the walls.

Of course, the day to day business didn't stop just because there were new little lambs to coddle, cuddle, get regulated. The older patients still had lessons, craft time, personal time, psych time. All of that had to be scheduled and ran by the staff for suggestions and approvals. It was enough to make a woman, manic. The warden wasn't one for pushing her work on to others, so she watched and noted every aspect of every day, changing schedules as needed.

With all of this, she was still more than ready for the new arrivals. She had spent the past few days learning about them, setting their schedules, talking with their soon to be primary care psych doctors. She had a feeling that these two were going to need all the stability she could provide. Shaking her head, Celestine pushed the worries away. After all, Dr MacNair had first crack at them. There was nothing she could do until they were here and settled.

A sudden scream caught her attention. A newer patient was acting up, by the nurse's station. Glancing at her computer, she brought up the girl's particulars and hustled out to take charge, just as the orderlies hooked the poor one under her arms and carried her away, back to the quiet rooms. Celestine waited as the guys got her stretched out and restrained, before entering and waving them...out.

Her portable laptop gave her the file on this lost lamb~ a junky by name of Tammy, a bit of a problem child. Celestine shook her head, sorrow coming and going so quickly as to be almost unseen. She had dealt with junkies before, it was never fun or easy. She stood up, brushing her slim fingers through the other woman's loose, sweaty hair and then exited the room, never noticing the camera in the far corner. After all, what did that camera have to do with her?

An hour later, she was down in the PT room, throwing iron and working on the heavy bag. Her brain needed some cool off time and working out always provided the release she craved. Celestine hated to think that she spent so much time surrounded by insanity, that it might soon begin to rub off. Well, she hated to think it...but the thought was a constant refrain. She knew she required a break, but who the fuck could she trust to run things while she was gone? No one~that was who. She moved to the heavy bag and began to punch. Her brain shut down as she hooked, jabbed, right crossed. Soon her body began to sweat. No worries, not now. Just the silence of a well trained body, doing what was needful.

She never noticed the camera in there, either.
 
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asylum.jpg

Pinks and purples and every shade in between.
Lilac, fuchsia, violet, rose, she wondered for a fleeting moment why such colours often had floral names before the answer popped into her mind almost as soon as she thought of the question.
“Because flowers are these colours,” Marisa murmured happily. Her nimble fingers picking through the assortment of sparkling sequins in the box in front of her as she selected with the utmost care the exact decoration to add to her latest project. A photo frame for her room, decorated with sparkling gems in swirling patterns. She was a little sad she wasn’t allowed to have real glass in the front, the plastic would dull the photo behind it slightly, but she knew it could be dangerous if someone else got hold of it and tried to use the glass for their own, no doubt, destructive purposes. The plastic wasn’t for her, why would it be?
She didn’t hurt people.

She only hurt Matt because she had to. He was going to hurt her. Her friend told her. People had been whispering about him. He’d been in a fight, he had a temper. He was going to hurt her. So she had to hurt him first. She had loved him and had been genuinely sad when it turned out she’d done more than hurt him. But her friend was there for her and got her through it. Her friend had always been there for her.
Marisa realised she hadn’t thought about Matt for quite some time, she gave a little sigh before returning to the task at hand.

Her fingertips had just closed around her chosen embellishment when a shriek from off to her left made her jump and drop the pale purple sequin back amongst the hundreds of others.
Narrowed eyes shot over to the source of the sound.

Susan, who until that point had been attempting to knit something completely unrecognisable on the other side of the room had succeeded in winding the excess wool around her ankles, was now yelling and carrying on about some squid like monster attacking her, her eyes wild and limbs flailing, sending balls of wool bouncing and rolling across the floor in different directions.

Susan saw monsters everywhere, in the shadows, in the food. She once screamed for two hours straight because someone had left a sock in the middle of the floor. Really, it got quite boring after a while.

“Can’t someone help her…?” Marisa asked softly, looking around with her brown eyes now wide and filled with concern. She did hate to see others in distress.
She asked again, her tone a little harder.
The screaming was beginning to grate on her nerves a little. Marisa liked it when things where peaceful and quiet. After all, it was sometimes hard to hear her friend when it was noisy. Although when she thought about it, it had gotten harder to hear her friend sometimes since she’d arrived at the asylum.

“Someone help her, please,” Marisa’s voice bordered on the frustrated.
Why don’t you help her
“I could but I don’t think I should…”
You know she won’t shut up until someone cuts her free
“I know,” Marisa groaned, looking at her unfinished picture frame which would remain so until the room was quiet once more.
You could shut her up…
Marisa glanced over at Susan who was rapidly turning paler and paler as she drowned in the panic washing over her. If Susan had a full blown episode the room would be closed for the rest of the day and her own project would have to be abandoned.

With a melodramatic sigh, Marisa rose from her chosen table and stalked over to the screaming girl on the other side of the room.
“Susan, Susan, calm down…I’m here to help you,” Marisa said softly, gently. Her expression and tone nothing but friendly.
As she began to bend down and reached out to start unwinding the wool Susan lashed out and the heel of her palm struck Marisa’s face.

She hurt you
Her friend sounded shocked.
“It was an accident. I’m sure it was…” Marisa rubbed the stinging flesh on her cheekbone, fighting the urge to cry.

She hurt you
Her friend now sounded angry.
“She’s just scared…”

If she hurt you once, she could hurt you again…
Marisa glanced at the still hysterical Susan.
You know…
Marisa held her breath as her friend paused. Susan shaking like a jelly in front of her.
…in some ways, it might be kinder to stop the monsters from scaring her ever again…to stop her hurting anyone else ever again…

Her friend was right. She should do something. Something to help.
Marisa was reaching out towards the table beside Susan.
Scissors shining in the bright light. Fairly blunt but handled in the right way...
Suddenly she stood up sharply as she noticed one of the nurses had walked in.

“Silly Susan has tangled herself up again…I was just going to help,” Her eyelashes fluttered a little as her expression became one of flawless innocence. Not that she’d done anything wrong.
Her right cheekbone turning a little red from the blow.
“But now you’re here, you can help her much better than I can,” Marisa all but skipped back to her table and quickly retrieved the sequin she wanted and stuck it in place while Susan was rescued from the wool.
“Ta da!” Marisa spun the finished frame around to show Nurse Stewart.
“Isn’t it pretty! Oh teddy will love it, I just know it!”
 
Shannon Stweart

nina%20nurse.jpg


Pic Two



Today was the day for the new girls. She had gone over their files again and again though they only contained their names and a few very odd notes about them being kept under special circumstance, for observation, which wasn't what they did here. This was a lock-down facility not a daycare. She couldn't wait to see what their diagnoses were, what she had to work with but that wouldn't be until they had seen Dr McNair or maybe even Tessa.

Standing in the Med station she watched Tammy twitching and scratching as she looked around, bobbing her head trying to see the front of the line. Well it looked like she was standing in line though there wasn't anyone in front of her. Looking at her watch, almost time, Shannon finished filling a tranq injection for Tammy and left the Med station. She handed the tranq to her newest nurse and told her to wait until it was needed. Then she caught the eye of the orderly and nodded her head to Tammy who was now scratching like mad and almost to the med window, the empty med window. Oh how much she loved the crazy. She was hardly ever bored here which was very good for them all.

Shannon melted into a doorway to watch the impending show just as the two new ones entered escorted by both, goodness, both doctors. 'Well that's new.' she mused, chewing on her lower lip. Dr McNair was a quick one. Just as Tammy started screaming and pounding on the glass she blocked the sight from the skittish red head and Asian beauties. She had to pull her eyes from the thin girls to watch her nurse administer the tranq. She stifled a laugh as the needle went straight in to Tammy's' arm and would probably hit bone on the little junkie. It was supposed to be angled on someone so thin. Not to mention it should have been injected into her thigh or buttocks and that was the whole reason she had suggested hiring the new nurse two months ago. The girl couldn't give injection worth a damn!

She watched as Tammy was carried away with Celestine typically in the poor waifs wake. She really didn't know what do do about that woman. She knew she had to be careful around her though, she was as protective of these girls as a mama rottweiler.

Shaking her head she headed off in the direction of the craft room to trip over Missy-OCD and her 10,000 piece puzzle, again, when she heard screaming emanating from the room anyway. This is just why she loved her job so much. So many things to do and people to help. Not like outside the asylum where people only pretended to need help, manipulated to get it, because they were to lazy to help themselves. Though everyone she knew on the outside didn't bother to ask her for help, anymore. She was more of a klutz there than in here. And why not, she was less bored here than there.

She arrived at the craft room just in time to see Marisa get smacked. The sight froze her feet, she stood just inside the doorway, she liked doorways, and watched Marisa zone in and out mumbling while Screaming Susan flailed in her woolen bindings. She made a mental note to chart girls episodes and sighed, this would also mean an incident report, more paperwork and boredom, damn-it.

Marisa's hand inched toward the scissors with 'that' look on her face and Shannon took a silent step forward. Apparently she was in the girls peripheral vision because Marisa snapped back to her usual self with her gushing sugary sweetness and skipped off.

“Shh Susan”.. she said, kneeling at the screaming girls feet. The sight of Shannon always paused Susan's screaming. Shannon picked up Susan's hand and placed it on the back of her own head. Susan immediately started petting and stroking Shannon's hair. “Thats it Sue.. pet the monster, just hold still so I can get the other lil meany off your feet.” She didn't know why but when ever she called herself a monster to Susan the woman turned pliable and cooperated. It could be the flash of fear she thought she saw or just that Shannon played along with the girls hallucination. She didn't really care. It worked and that was the only thing that mattered.

Finished with the woolen monster she turned around and was faced with such a cute sight. Marisa, just bubbling happiness. She cupped the girls red cheek and brushed her thumb over the lovely warm mark. “Yes sweetie, teddy is going to love it completely. Now off to the infirmary with you for some ice unless you want teddy upset with poor Susan. That wouldn't be nice, would it? She really didn't mean it.” she said and Marisa turned and skipped ahead of her out of the room. She didn't know if the girl would go to the infirmary or report directly to teddy but either way she was fun to watch skipping like that. She sighed a little sigh and headed for the nurses station and the reports that would surely sour her mood.
 
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Eva heard Tammy’s screams and her thumping although Doctor McNair had stepped between them and the sight, Mayumi’s hand seemed to squeeze Eva’s just a little tighter and released the grip only when Tammy had been silenced and taken away. Finally Doctor McNair left them both in the recreation room which was just off the nurse’s station and complete with a TV, magazines and a few choice board games such as chess, checkers, monopoly and so forth. Eva was hardly interested but glad that Doctor Massacre and Doctor McNair had left them both, authority figures tended to make Eva nervous and she spent the entire time stopping her quivering knees from desiring to drop.

Eva took a deep breath, thankfully the good doctor had pointed out their room which was not far from this one and told them they’d be sharing to make their stay more comfortable. Eva wasn’t sure how this was deemed comfortable in any capacity but she was more than accustomed to sharing all things with Mayumi. It was the other patients in the room that were making Mayumi jumpy and uncomfortable.

Eva was the younger both in age and as their Master’s submissive but she was also the stronger of them, the more defiant slave and likely to forget her place without consistency in dominance and beatings. She was the one Master took out shopping or to a party when he needed an escort while Mayumi was deemed unfit for human contact by him. It didn’t bother any of them; Mayumi needed to feel like she wasn’t good enough and Eva quickly became the alpha slave, assisting Master where she was required and accepting Mayumi as her responsibility. She was told on occasion that should Mayumi fail in a task that Eva would suffer for it so she was harsh with her where it was needed, encouraging at times and protective always.

“Come on cunt.” Eva murmured to Mayumi, her eyes on the camera knowing they were being watched everywhere as she’d counted several when they were admitted, “Let’s go to our little room.”

She tugged Mayumi’s hand knowing that cameras wouldn’t be in their rooms as it would be a violation of privacy. Sure enough; it was the only place they truly weren’t watched though the high security and isolation types of bedrooms would have them to be certain. Their suitcases sat on the bed and the room housed two single beds with those cardboard hospital sheets, a bedside table with a lamp between the beds and two sets of drawers.

“Sit cunt. Don’t kneel.” Eva pushed her down on the bed, being sure to keep her voice low as she moved to the door and shut it quietly, her eyes darting everywhere, “I’ll explain everything in a minute. Just be quiet and don’t move.”

Eva started opening the drawers to both chests and found them all empty. She next moved to the bedside table and opened it to find a bible inside, she snorted and tossed it straight into the little bin they were given next to a bare desk with a metal chair. Once she’d scoured every inch of the room, including the beds, beneath the mattresses and under the sheets, she rifled through the suitcases and felt all the inseams. The organisation had taught her well not to trust what they called ‘outsiders’ and they had taught her how she could be tricked and must always remain vigilant. To another she might seemed very conspiratorial or paranoid but this was all Eva knew so she saw nothing wrong with it. She checked the lamp and unscrewed the bulb before replacing it and then walked back to the suitcases, opening them and running her hands through every inch of clothing before she was satisfied and turned to Mayumi.

Eva strode over and crouched before her, something that was likely startling to Mayumi but necessary nonetheless, “Listen to me cunt, my every word right now is important and I don’t know how much time they will give us.” She told Mayumi and referred to her as ‘cunt’ which had been their general reference for Mayumi over the past five years.

“You remember what they taught us at the place? Within the organisation? Don’t you?” Her voice dropped an octave or two with her next words so Mayumi had to strain to hear her, “They taught us well cunt, at La Trinacria…” She looked around anxiously before continuing, “…remember? They taught us everything, how to be good slaves and how outsiders were not to be believed, that they wouldn’t understand. They weren’t wrong. Those doctors and those lawyers, those police? They would never understand you or I or Master, they would never believe us and it’s not within their scope of comprehension. We don’t exist for a reason. We were never meant to be found. Master was not supposed to-”

Eva cut off as her voice cracked and she stood abruptly, turning away from Mayumi before she continued, “Master wasn’t supposed to get hurt like that. We didn’t anticipate this cunt and we should have. He should have.” Her voice hardened in anger when she said ‘He’.

“They think we’re crazy already but we know better.” Eva spun around to face her, “I’m still your alpha, you still obey me in Master’s absence, do you understand me cunt?” She waited for that fearful nod, “Then you tell them nothing and you call me Eva unless I say it’s safe or we are alone in here together. I will call you Mayumi when we’re in an outsider’s presence. Now you can ask me questions cunt.”
 
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It wasn't that Mayumi was unintelligent. As a graduated initiate of La Trinacria she was quick witted as well as beautiful and obedient. She had been trained to learn and anticipate her Master's needs, to become whatever he needed her to be, to keep silent about La Trinacria to outsiders. She had studied literature, philosophy, history, languages, sciences, mathematics and more. Mayumi had a first rate education and had been aptitude tested for things that couldn't be taught, like lateral thinking, short and long term memory, even the ability to show initiative when required to.

But all that teaching was over seven years in the past. Now she was Master's 'useless cunt.' He had done such a thoroughly comprehensive and successful job of stripping down her psyche and corroding her self worth that Mayumi found it nearly impossible to move so much as a muscle without being instructed to, by someone she respected and was supposed to obey. She had stopped trusting her judgement during her years in service, stopped believing in herself. Mayumi was such a devoted and well trained slave now that Master seized on any mistake or omission, taunting and brutalising her mercilessly until Mayumi didn't believe herself capable of dusting a room or ironing a shirt correctly, let alone functioning outside of his home and his express authority.

She and Eva were completely different creatures, who sated entirely different and pretty much mutually exclusive appetites in their owner. Eva had been taught how the real world worked and taken out on his arm to interact with regular people. Eva knew in a way that Mayumi was only beginning to comprehend just how very taboo their kinky polyamorous household really was. Whereas Mayumi's blind obedience to Master might have become boring over time, Eva's acerbic wit and rebellious streak constantly gave him fresh challenges. Whereas having a wilful and even disrespectful girl who constantly needed subduing might have become arduous and unappealing with time, Mayumi's total acceptance of her place soothed his soul and reassured him that he was capable of keeping his house in order. Eva would take everything he dished out and still taunt him. Mayumi was the girl he had the power to truly terrify, torture, humiliate, degrade... and break.

And the utter helplessness she now felt was the price Mayumi paid for the exquisite agony her Master could inflict on her physically, sexually and psychologically. After seven years at his feet there was no way Mayumi could ever be rehabilitated to life as a regular person. If Master died Eva would walk out of Massacre with her head held high and if she had to, she'd live a (mostly) regular life. Mayumi was too emotionally dependent on Master, too hardwired for blind obedience, too ignorant about the world, her self esteem was too low and she craved 'abusive' treatment far too much. She was too naive as well. She had believed everything Master told her was truth and it hadn't been, it had been merely what she needed to hear. 'They' called it brainwashing but Mayumi was beginning to understand his true motivation, his love for her. Now she listened intently to Eva and they both knew she would believe anything Eva said without question.

Eva was right too, she was her alpha. If anyone could keep her from doing or saying anything stupid while they were here, it was Eva. It distressed Mayumi to hear Eva's anger at Master, her assertion that he had been remiss in his arrangements for them. The evidence was incontrovertible; he had had an accident and with days they had been committed. Mayumi's loyalty to him was no rational thing however. In Master's absence she found herself clinging to the need to serve Eva as she did him... but something within her hesitated. Mayumi blushed, unable to look Eva in the eye.

"This is not fair on you Xinai,*" She whispered fretfully. "You should not have to baby me like this."

Eva gave her the look, the one that told Mayumi that if Master was to pass away she'd have a Mistress and a purpose whether she liked it or not. Mayumi smiled slightly at her sister slave's devotion but she met Eva's eyes and told her silently that her worries on that score were serious. Eva should have enough to worry about keeping her own nose clean. Mayumi was feeling more and more burdensome to her sister, and still blamed her ill timed remark for the fact they were here at all.

"So how can we find out about Master? How sick he is and what his chances of surviving are?"

It must be pointed out that while Mayumi was educated, her experience of the world was nonexistent. La Trinacria initiates had no contact with the outside world and her Master had offered her none once he realised what kind of life she needed in order to be fulfilled in her service. Mayumi had used computers but never seen the internet. She had seen pictures in books but had never actually been anywhere except La Trinacria, blacked out cars, Master's private jet, his mansion and now Massacre. She had never handled currency or even spoken to anyone outside the society. When Master had visitors or parties, Eva was his escort and Mayumi was either shut in her cage in Master's room out of the caterer's way or carried a tray and remained silent, taken for a foreign maid. What she had was textbook, schoolgirl knowledge about America and its state systems. She had none of the worldly experience that taught people how flawed these systems were or how anything really worked. Her reliance on Eva in these matters was total. And even Eva's life had been stupidly sheltered in comparison to the average person's.

* Mandarin: Xīnài ~ pronounced Sheen-aye ~ meaning 'Beloved.' A traditional way that subservient wives addressed their husbands, after it became un-PC to call one's husband something more formal, akin to 'Lord' or 'Sir.'

Disclaimer: I'm not Chinese and know nothing much about their language or traditions. I gleaned this from the net. If it's bullshit, so what? It sounds pretty. Don't come bitching to me about it, just read the thread and like it, m'kay? :kiss:
 
Tessa almost felt a bit of pride watching her people deal with the minor, but still disruptive, 'Tammy event'. Even Trista, who had fallen far short of Tessa’s expectations, had done more or less the right thing.

"I’ll have to talk to McNair about leaving new patients alone...again," barely aware that she’d even said it aloud.

Trista had proven useful in other ways, though. A mediocre doctor, due to temperament rather than intellect or ability, her extra-curricular activities had brought in no small amount in donations, and had made various legal problems vanish. Tessa had taken to letting the girl She’s older than you, y’know handle most of the interactions the Asylum had with the outside world. Powerful men and women surrendered their authority quite willingly to the girl, much to Tessa’s surprise Just because you don’t care about flesh... .

A drink appeared in her hand.

Celestine was an altogether different problem You love problems . A protector, a cop, a guardian. Fine, that was all fine. As long as the woman knew when to step back, move aside That, she does not . Tessa watched the woman attack the punching bag with vigor. Tessa approved of this method for blowing off steam, she understood that being her, in this place, her place, could be troubling to many. The sweat glistened off of Celestine’s skin like the stars her named alluded to, and many is the time that the woman had pounded the heavy bag until she fell to her knees.

Next time, next time, next time
Yes

The warden was a powerful woman in many ways, but she simply couldn’t see past the end of her fist. She couldn’t see past whatever problem was at hand. Tessa knew that this sort of short-sighted devotion to a cause could be used, but it required a breaking down of certain tendencies. Of course, even if Celestine’s workout had her completely exhausted, there was no way Tessa could take the warden. Mia could, though. Mia knew how.

I do. I want. Sweat on broken skin
Yes

Moslty, though, Tessa was impressed with Shannon. The woman approached life here much like Tessa herself. An interesting thing, a more engaging thing than the rest of the world. A puzzle that remade itself constantly. And Shannon was never panicked, never afraid. Soon, Tessa could start using the nurse as an assistant, a second. She’d do a much better job than McNair.

Yes, but McNair will scream so beautifully

"Shut up! Your proclivities are..."

Say what you want about Tessa, the woman knows from clothes. For a woman who seems to care so little about creature comforts, I am always thrilled at the fine silk of her blouse, nylons, panties and how they feel against my skin. Oh, sure, I can feel it all when I’m in back, but its like looking through a dirty window: You see everything, but it is all indistinct. The food is delicious, but lacks depth, the alcohol is warm, but doesn’t burn, the orgasms, few and far between, are pleasing, but utterly unthrilling. Its not quite like not cumming at all, but it leaves you aching for what could have been.

I caught myself running my hands over my own curves. Which, while delightful, wasn’t really why I was here. I had things to take care of.

I know I don’t move like her, that powerful stride, that not-heavy-but-still-forceful footfall. I can’t move like that. She’s a force in motion, and an amazing one at that, but me, I like to enjoy the trip. I don’t like straight lines. And so my feet meander and wind their way places. Like out of the video womb, through the office and down to the nurse’s station.

Luckily, I did have her voice.
When I wanted it.
Mostly.

"Shannon, have a couple orderlies bring some paints for brushes and fingers, an easel and paper, and a small bench to Marisa’s room, and then walk with me."

I waited as she called in the request.
If there was one thing we agreed on, its that this nurse was something special. Stronger, than the warden, wiser than McNair, and as focused as Tessa.

In her way.

I was aching to see all that bloom and for the woman to come into her own.
Thats part of what today was about.
I thought about taking her hand as we walked.

bwaaaaahahahahahahaha
Yes, thank you


"I was impressed with how you handled Marisa today, so I wanted you here when I tried something with her. I’ve been approaching the girl all wrong. I was viewing her like she was primarily a sensual creature. She does love to be tactile, and she responds to affection very positively, and, of course, pain very negatively. If you hadn’t been on the spot today, we likely would have seen that negative reaction up close and personal."

We stopped outside the door to Marisa’s room.

"But I was wrong. She’s approaching the world with a profound sense of immediacy. Her take on things, her view of whats happening in her life, extends just a couple of subjective moments into the past and into the future. Don’t get me wrong, these are subjective moments, they can last a lot longer than you’d imagine, but she doesn’t see the future or the past like you and I do. And its easy to mistake that for pure sensuality. Here."

I ran my fingertip down the inside of Shannon’s arm. I saw the contact pass through her skin.

"And here."
My fingernail left a slow red mark along the side of her neck.
I loved her eyes.

"In each case, you felt something, pleasure or pain, but you were also locked in that moment. Part of your consciousness thought it would never end. In most people, thats a very tiny part. The part that panics at the dentist’s even though we know it will pass. But that is all Marisa is. The part that understands yesterday and, more importantly, tomorrow is called 'Teddy'."

You are going to be in so much trouble
Jealous?


I lead us into Marisa’s room with a smile.

The girl was sitting on her bed, and I joined her, very closely. The back of my fingers ran along her arm, slowly, up and down. She might as well have purred as she leaned against me. I glanced at the nurse, making sure she noted how easily affection could make the girl, well, a little girl. I suspected that Shannon had noticed this many times before.

My fingertips moved to the back of her neck as the orderlies arrived and set everything up.

"Marisa, sweetie, I was hoping you might paint something for me? You can keep it if you like, but I’d still like you to paint it just for me."

I rose and the girl followed as if on a string, or a leash. I turned the bench so we could both straddle it, me behind her, her between my thighs.

I liked when Shannon couldn’t turn away as I raised my skirt, maybe more than I had to.

My hands found Marisa’s shoulders and pulled her back just a bit, letting my lips brush over her neck on the way to her ear.

Each word caressed her skin, each breath flowed over her.

"Marisa, please, will you paint Teddy for me?"
 
Dr. Trista MacNair wiped her bottom lip as she stepped from the closet. Within was a panting orderly with his pants around his ankles. She straightened her jacket and smoothed her skirt and set off down the hallway, her heels clicking on the linoleum floor.

Mouthwash. That's what she wanted in that moment.

Once she was in her office, she swirled the minty fluid around her teeth, erasing the tangy taste of orderly cum, watching her pouted crimson lips in the mirror before spitting into the sink. She washed her hands and sauntered over to her desk.

She sank into the chair and checked her messages quickly.

"No."

"No."

"So not calling her back, she was shite."

"No."

"Ahh, donor." Trista reached for her phone and dialed, leaning back in her seat to cross her legs. She smiled as her nimble finger twirled the cord around her little finger.

"John. How nice to talk to you again. Yes. Yes. They seem scared, but are settling in. What? Now come on John. You promised. Yes, I know. But- John. They're here, what is the worst- John. I am warning you, stay away from Massacre. Tess isn't going... Now, John you enjoyed when we- Yes Sir. Of course, Sir. I remember. Yes Sir. It will be handled." Trista slammed the phone down in it's cradle and spun her chair to stare out the window at the cold grey day.

She was silent, contemplating what was going to happen. What she needed to do. What she loathed to, but had no choice in the matter. A sigh fell from the parted lips of the doctor in crisis.

"I have got to be crazy." Trista whispered. Then laughed, loudly. Her titters filling the office. "Ahh, crazy in the asylum. Fucking fitting." She spun and look at the clock. "Group!"

She leapt out of her chair and headed out the door, locking it behind her. She strode down the hallway, pausing at Marisa's door, seeing Tess very close to the girl, whispering heatedly in her ear.

She shook her head and walked away. "Cause that's appropriate." But she wouldn't interrupt Tess in her "I'm the doctor now" state. Sometimes, Tris felt more like a babysitter than an actual doctor. Oh, sure Tessa ran the joint, but without the funding from specific donors and organisations then Massacre would not be feeling as comfortable as it was, fending for itself with federal funds.

She continued on and knocked on the door of the two new girls, and then entered. They were in the middle of a conversation and both looked worried. Tess smiled at them.

"It's time for group. You must both be there."

She glanced around the room, then back at the two beauties and walked out. The call from John hit her again, and she tried to shake it off. She really didn't want to do what they had ordered her to. But the funding was at stake. Trista had to act. She would, and two girls would pay for it.

A soft sigh as she headed for the group room. Trista needed to fuck something to get over this stress. Something tall, dark, and dangerous. She spotted Celestine ahead of her. Trista smiled. Now there was a possibility. Tall, dark and extremely dangerous. Trista shivered at the thought of being slammed under the woman, parting her legs for those strong fingers while Celestine whispered dangerously in her ear.

The good doctor was positively ebullient as she prepared the room for the group session. Placing the chairs in a circle and preparing her notes on each of the girls. She perched gently on her chair, reading over her notes, and checking out the case file of the two new girls.

Eva Dumingo- 23- DPD & Shared pyschotic disorder. There may also be tendencies of sexual sadism, though this remains unclear. She seems to firmly believe in the relationship she had with her partner it looks to have been an abusive one. The marks across the backs and legs are old, and there were several new ones.

Trista pored over the pictures taken at the police station. Eva, while beautiful had been treated severely, by whomever was her old partner.

Eva stopped talking to us, her body language closed off. We could get nothing further.

Trista closed the file and smiled to herself as the girls filtered in slowly. She opened Mayumi's file to take a peek.

Mayumi Oshiro- 25- Dependent Personality Disorder, Self Defeating/Masochistic Personality Disorder, Anorexia and Selective Mutism.

It's apparent that we can get very little from Ms. Oshiro, even separating the woman from her "sister" has done little good. She has refused all our questions and furthermore has refused to eat. It's apparent that she is already underweight.

She also bears the marks of repeated abuse. Sexual sadism is also a possibility though in light of her silence remains unclear.

Case suggestions- feeding tube, though highly invasive may become necessary. Forced separation from her "sister" should she not cooperate.


Trista slammed the file closed. It didn't have the satisfying pop she wanted. So she tossed it to the floor, under her chair. Fucking city shrinks, thinking always with their heads. When there were easier ways into someone's head, heart, between their legs. Whatever works. She rested her hands on her crossed knees and nodded to her patients as they filed in, looking ever like the caring doctor she was supposed to be.

"Welcome to group, girls. Who would like to go first today?"
 
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“Yes sweetie, Teddy is going to love it completely. Now off to the infirmary with you for some ice unless you want teddy upset with poor Susan. That wouldn't be nice, would it? She really didn't mean it.”
Marisa clutched her prized work in her hands and obediently skipped off to the infirmary. Part of her wanted, needed, to rush back to her room to show Teddy but she knew she would surely get a bruise upon her cheek and that would not do.
The nurse in the infirmary dutifully pressed a cold compress to the reddened skin, bestowing Marisa with a friendly smile when she showed her the picture frame. Before sending her happily back to her room.

Marisa loved her room. It was neat and tidy and her room mate, Deborah, didn’t talk. To anyone. Ever.
Making her the perfect room mate in Marisa’s opinion. Some god-awful tragedy had robbed her of her entire family in her youth and apparently she’d never spoken since.

In the beginning Marisa had been wary of the silent girl with large, staring eyes.
Not sure if Deborah was simply watching her, storing up all her observations to then share with someone who might use them against Marisa.
But then her friend had pointed out, a silent friend could be the best of friends. Secrets would remain secrets between them and it might be nice to have another to talk to.

And now, on an evening, the three of them would have lovely conversations after the lights had been turned out.
Marisa, Deborah and Teddy.
Admittedly Marisa did the lion’s share of the talking but it was most pleasant to be able to babble away about what she’d done, what new projects she had in her head and sometimes, not often, but sometimes it felt good to be able to grumble to Deborah about people who had been less than friendly. An orderly who might have barged past her roughly whilst dealing with another patient. Or perhaps another patient who might have ruined her latest drawing or project. Sometimes it was nice to know that she had a ‘girl’ friend to talk to. Her friend’s voice changed so that sometimes she really didn’t know if her friend was male or female. Not that it mattered really.

Marisa had just sat on her bed to show Teddy the picture frame when footsteps in the doorway made her look up. Dr Massacre walked in and came to sit beside her, Nurse Stewart seemed to hover in the doorway.
Her friend liked Dr Massacre, which meant Marisa liked her too.
The Doctor always spoke the truth and was always friendly and kind.
Almost as the thought ran through her mind Marisa felt the Doctor’s fingers stroking her arm, drawing a sigh of comfort from her lips and making her lean towards the woman.
In truth, Marisa wanted nothing more than to turn into the body beside hers and embrace her, snuggle up close and rest her head upon her chest.
Her eyelids fluttered as the fingers rose to her neck, making her want to whimper and squirm like a puppy.

"Marisa, sweetie, I was hoping you might paint something for me? You can keep it if you like, but I’d still like you to paint it just for me."
Oh yes, yes please Doctor, you know I like painting…” Marisa’s eyes lit up upon sight of the easel and paints. The colours calling to her, the cool liquid begging to be spread across the paper.

As they sat on the bench, Marisa could feel the warm pressure of the Doctor’s legs on either side of her. It made her feel safe, made her feel relaxed, wanted.
Eyelids grew heavy for another fleeting moment as she felt lips against her skin and the Doctor’s body against her back. To turn and nestle against her shoulder was such a strong desire that it almost overwhelmed her until the Doctor’s question derailed her train of thought.

"Marisa, please, will you paint Teddy for me?"

The mention of Teddy made Marisa stiffen for a fleeting moment. Teddy was hers. Why would the Doctor want a picture?

She said you could keep it
But why would she want it?

Does that matter?
Marisa wasn’t sure.

You like the Doctor and the Doctor likes you
Marisa smiled, she did like the Doctor. The Doctor always had a hug, a smile, for her.

If you paint really well, the Doctor might have more than a hug for you…
Her friend’s tone had become mischievous, almost taunting, tempting…seductive.
Marisa felt a twinge deep inside her body, a warmth spreading at the thought. Aware of little else at that moment aside from how comforting the touch of the woman’s body behind her own was.

Paint for her. Do as she asks. She’s our friend…she could be more than our friend…

Of course, Doctor,” Marisa eventually replied. Sitting forward to start painting and whining unconsciously as the connection between her and the Doctor was broken slightly. In order to remedy the loss of warmth to her back, Marisa felt her thighs widen to press against those lying outside them. Not attempting to push them away, just increase the pressure of them against her flesh.

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Marisa picked up a brush and began applying the paint. Light browns first, then darker shades to add depth and tone. The outline of the bear appearing quickly
I like painting for you,” Marisa’s voice was nothing short of thrilled. Excitement trembling through her body as she tried her best to impress the Doctor.
Do you like my painting, Nurse Stewart?” She added, glancing up at the nurse with a child like expression, seeking validation, encouragement.

Maybe she could be your friend too, she did help with Silly-Screaming-Susan didn’t she…

Marisa’s hand guided the brush across the paper. An almost perfect image of her teddy bear created in the centre but with the strangest of backgrounds. A dark, swirling mass behind the toy. Dark and dangerous with what could be eyes appearing to float in the depths. It was exactly as Marisa saw Teddy.

She shuffled back a little, sighing as she settled back against the Doctor, feeling the reassuring warmth once more.
turning to look at the older woman’s face over her shoulder.
Finished…” Marisa murmured.

Kiss her…
Marisa tried not to listen. She couldn’t do that, that wasn’t allowed.
Not like that, silly, to say thank you. Kiss her and she might let you paint some more…

Marisa leant closer and pressed her lips sweetly against the Doctor’s cheek.
Thank you for letting me paint, Doctor,” Her voice husky as she drew back a little, body powerless to stop a shiver than trickled down her spine as their eyes met.
An idea began forming in her mind, something that would be fun and might help show just how much she liked the Doctor. How much she’d like them to be friends.

...more than friends...

You can have it if you want it, Doctor but can I…can I paint something else? Can I…can I paint you?
 
Celestine

The workout had done the impossible, as always. Celestine was focused, more aware, better able to deal with the issues that the Asylum brought from day to day. She showered and slipped into her uniform~smoothing the drab olive colored slacks and button down shirt over her well muscled frame~ with quick, thoughtless movements. Then it was on to her hair. With deft motions, she twisted it up into a neat, high, top knot.

Soon enough, she had returned to the main entrance floor. Her quick stride took her past the offices of the staff, the meeting rooms, the nurse's main station. Knowing Dr. MacNair, there would be a group to get the newest patients acclimated. Obviously, she was going to have to attend. "Fuck." A whispered comment, one she barely registered as having made out loud.

Whipping her head to the left, she noted Massacre playing good doctor with one of the longer term guests. She felt the trace of a grin as she allowed the word 'guest' to percolate in her mind. That poor girl was just so...off. Something about her was scarily eerie. Seeing her with Massacre...ack... what is her name? Celestine thought, hard, a quick grin coming once the name popped into her mind. Marisa, that's it...Those two together, not such a good thought, at all.

She turned her eyes away and finished the rest of her walk, in silence. Inner thoughts quiet, she collected her mail from the main desk and headed for her office. Her eyes glanced to the clock. She had time for a few quick phone calls and then she would head over to group room and see what the delightful Dr. MacNair was doing to help the unfortunates.

"Hey baby girl. Ima be late. Yes, I know." Silence as a strident alto rose from the ear piece of the phone. "Look, I have a job, just like you. Unlike your job, mine means something." Celestine shook her head, her eyes darkening as anger built in the pit of her stomach. Stupid, useless cunt. "I called to tell you I would be late. You wanna leave, fine. Get out. Take all your shit with you. Don't be there when I get home." She replaced the phone on the hook, her fingers drumming a relentless tattoo on the desk top.

The next call was for Asylum business and she handled it with her usual business- like attitude, getting supplies ordered and making arrangements for a state inspection with one of the nicer inspectors. One of MacNair's, probably. Celestine knew the doctor had a very healthy appreciation for all things sexual. Closing honey brown eyes, she allowed her mind to wander along the woman's frame in her mind. Gorgeous, smart. Too smart sometimes. Her eyes popped open. One didn't shit where they ate. No play time on premises. Not for the Warden.

Obviously this evening was going to be very lonely, very long and very unfulfilling. Fuck it, she had a job to do now. Her eyes went back to the clock. Shit. She was going to be late. With a sigh, she rose to her feet and grabbed her clinician's notebook, just in case she needed to write a reminder during group session. Finally, she headed back out into the hallway and turned right.

She could hear the rustle of chairs, the click of heels or maybe an ink pen. Her own booted strides made no sound as she stood just beside the doorway and glanced in. Her voice was quiet, mellow and gave no hint to the anger she had expressed on the phone a half hour earlier. "Afternoon, Dr. MacNair, you don't mind if I sit in for a while, do you?"
 
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Shannon Stewart

Shannon sat at the nurses station finishing up the incident report, her fingers tapped out the last keystrokes as her ears picked up the shuffle of socks getting closer. Reaching in to the drawer beside her she pulled out a lolly and set it on the high counter in front of her just as Chelsie's hand snaked across its surface, literally snaked, hissing, slithering and striking the lolly with her daily whispered “Tttthhhhaaannnkkkyyyyoouuu.” She looked up in time to see the girl saunter away in her bed-sheet toga, apparently its what all the serpent people are wearing this season.

The room flowed round the one in the toga. Patients and staff going about their day much as they do every day. Its surprising just how many things are done repeatedly and just how much you can tell from even the most minor changes in behavior. Shifting in her chair her ears picked yet another changed sound. She heard the distinctive click of Tessa’s heels ... no.. not Tessa, definitely not Trista, hers were a double click in time with her hips, everything was in time with that woman's hips. No this was Tessa or a version of her. She loved that Tessa was Tessa but wasn't sometimes. Over the time she had been here she had noticed how each of Tessa’s mannerisms would change right down to the cadence and pitch of her voice. Hell even the woman's vocabulary would alter. The tempo of the heel clicks didn't suggest at strident purpose, or ramble, or fear, or stalking... this was a measured but not quite clipped pace. She turned just in time to see Tessa scan the room before addressing her.

"Shannon, have a couple orderlies bring some paints for brushes and fingers, an easel and paper, and a small bench to Marisa’s room, and then walk with me."

Nodding and dialing the phone she went about giving the orders as her eyes took in ‘Tessa’. This one ordered paint for brushes and fingers; not paint, paint brushes, finger paints, heavy paper, the appropriate stool and items for cleaning up. This one left out details and suggested at things. Even the cross of her ankles told so much. Tessa never crossed her ankles while talking or really any time she was ‘Tessa’. God, if she had any idea she had so many tells she would be pissed! Though apparently she thought they were well hidden or didn't care if anyone suspected she was anything more than herself. Or did other people really not notice. The woman was remarkably intelligent but more than intelligent she just knew things about people. Shannon admired that. It seems so many people really had no clue what was going on around them. She also found it much more than amusing that she was the one in charge of the asylum. Though it did make sense. Who better to run a place for the off kilter than several slightly off kilters, wrapped up in one flawless feminine skin.

‘I wonder if they all have different names....?’ she mused as she rose from her chair to fall in step with the good doctors. They wove through and around patients as Tessa told her why they were heading in the direction of Marisa’s room.

"I was impressed with how you handled Marisa today, so I wanted you here when I tried something with her. I’ve been approaching the girl all wrong. I was viewing her like she was primarily a sensual creature. She does love to be tactile, and she responds to affection very positively, and, of course, pain very negatively. If you hadn’t been on the spot today, we likely would have seen that negative reaction up close and personal."

Her even knowing what happened with Marisa almost made Shannon miss her next step. Tess wasn't in the room and she had just finished the incident report when she walked up. She glanced up at the cameras and then watched the woman closer for the rest of the conversation, looking for any sign that she knew she had just given away that she was watching them all from the video cameras but no sign came other than a stray hand that was pulled back in front of her with a delicate lacing of her fingers.

“Thank you, Marissa is really a sweet girl. You are correct she responds very intensely stimulus, even just a stern look and she crumbles some days. I really was just in the right place at the right time. Marissa’s episodes have come so much farther apart recently we thought it would be ok to allow her short amounts of unsupervised time. The other nurses have already been notified to resume her previous supervision schedule. “

We stopped outside the door to Marisa’s room and I couldn't help but notice that her fingers kept tapping and lacing around one another. This one obviously knew that Tessa didn't usually touch people and was fighting her own urges.

She was also finding it very hard to pay attention to her words rather than just watching her lips move.

"But I was wrong. She’s approaching the world with a profound sense of immediacy. Her take on things, her view of whats happening in her life, extends just a couple of subjective moments into the past and into the future. Don’t get me wrong, these are subjective moments, they can last a lot longer than you’d imagine, but she doesn’t see the future or the past like you and I do. And its easy to mistake that for pure sensuality. Here."

Shannon froze as the electricity from the single light finger tip trailed down her arm causing her fingers to flex instinctively.

"And here."

Pain zippered down her neck and her eyes flicked up and locked on to Tessa's. It was only a fleeting feeling but her eyes narrowed and fingers twitched with visions of her own nails making the woman in front of her scream.

"In each case, you felt something, pleasure or pain, but you were also locked in that moment. Part of your consciousness thought it would never end. In most people, that's a very tiny part. The part that panics at the dentist’s even though we know it will pass. But that is all Marisa is. The part that understands yesterday and, more importantly, tomorrow is called 'Teddy'."


'Felt something indeed.' she thought heatedly as Tessa turned and wandered into the girls room. Her mind wondered on the concept of perceived time. It would be nice to have that immediate feeling last so very much longer. In a way Tessa's description of Marisa made her slightly jealous. Being capable of living in a single moment for an unknown and extended amount of time didn't sound all that bad to her. It would have its down sides, no doubt, but the positives were a very enticing thought.

Following Tessa in the room she hung back in the doorway watching as she always does. Tessa sat next to the girl and with just those few touches she was almost crawling in the woman's lap. She could see how she could be described as a purely sensual creature, especially by this version of 'Tessa'.

Shannon was then bumped from her place as the orderlies brought in the painting supplies and set it all up. She wandered around the room as Marissa followed Tess in her bubbly childlike way... Both sat upon the bench and Tessa did it again, took her wandering thoughts with the small sight of creamy thigh and lace at the top of her stockings. Shannon knew that 'Tessa' was doing this on purpose, it made the gesture all the more amusing and inviting. She was the sensual ego, the feeler the exact opposite of the stony-in-charge general that made sure the asylum run like a well wound clock.

As Marisa whimpered and rubbed herself tween the woman's thighs she slowly made her way to stand behind and slightly to the side of them. The better to watch Marisa's features, her painting and the flow of the staff pausing as they past the open door.

“Do you like my painting, Nurse Stewart?” Marissa simpered after a bit..

“Of course I do Marissa, you always paint to so well.” she smiled down at her watching her practically writhe to keep in contact with Tessa. Some of her brush strokes were haphazard but effective others were very deliberate, like caressing the canvas. It was just a wonder to watch this girl flicker... yes that was it. She flickered when 'Teddy' was there.

As the girl expressed that she was finished with her painting Shannon gripped Tessa's shoulder. She didn't actually realize she had done it as she was staring at the painting. The perfect teddy bear was forefront to a cloud, a mass with eyes. It was just an enthralling sight even though she had seen such paintings before. She had never seen them painted or watched the artist at the time of painting. She was again brought out of thought when the girl kissed Tessa's cheek... and then asked if she could paint her. Shannon's grip tightened, so many images ran through her mind, she leaned down and whispered on the edge of Tessa's ear “Not purely sensual, no, but there is definitely some sensuality in her that wants out. I wonder if she wants you to pose for her or simply use you as a canvas?”. She released Tessa's shoulder, absentmindedly trailing her fingertips across her shoulder to walk around them both.

She picked up the painting, with a shaking hand she pulled an adhesive strip from her pocket and attached the painting to the wall over Marissa's bed. Sitting down on the edge of the girls bed, she just needed a moment away from the pair to calm herself.
 
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"This is not fair on you Xinai. You should not have to baby me like this."

Eva shot Mayumi a withering look to tell her in no uncertain terms that she would always be there, in whatever capacity she was needed. Mayumi had spent her life in the dark, she would not survive the world alone and Eva knew that she could just barely get by on her own knowledge of a day to day lifestyle. Regardless of the fact that it would bore her to tears to live like a ‘normal’ person. Mayumi was clever, she had even picked up a little of Eva’s brat nature since they had lived together. Mayumi knew things like calculus, philosophy, great men and women of history and she could even recite the periodic table on memory alone. She was educated. But she was not street wise in the least.

Neither of them had ever needed to know what a mortgage was or how to make a resume, never needed to know about bills and how to hold down a job. They were taught by the underground slavery ring that had raised them, neither one of them held as much as a high school certificate and were fairly socially inept, Eva had only the skill to answer to people since Master had seen fit to let her see a little of the world. As far as the world was concerned? Eva Dumingo and Mayumi Oshiro did not exist.

They had no bank accounts, no tax records, no passports and the birth certificate Mayumi once had would be somewhere with her mother. Mayumi did not know her and did not know if she still lived. Eva herself had been torn from the breeding slave her own mother was and had not known much of a family until Master had bought her. It had been a hopeless situation but Eva knew it would be useless to assuage Mayumi of her guilt over their current circumstances and to do so would be to break character as her alpha; something Eva knew would only worry Mayumi further.

Finally Mayumi asked her question, "So how can we find out about Master? How sick he is and what his chances of surviving are?"

“I…” Eva turned to her side, her brow furrowed as she thought hard on it before finally answering, “We can’t. Not here. We need…” She trailed off with a deep breath.

“We need escape, cunt.” She turned back to Mayumi, her bright brown eyes darkening with thought, “They will never release us. We can’t count on it. His family and their intentions for his money and after doing this to us…it concerns me, cunt.”

Before Eva could continue, Doctor MacNair opened the door and leaned in with a smile, "It's time for group. You must both be there."

“Group?” Eva looked puzzled but the Doctor was gone in a flash and keeping a swift pace up as she moved down the corridor.

Eva waited until she saw which door the woman disappeared behind and turned back to Mayumi, her hand on the doorframe, “I guess we have to go down there. C’mon cu-ahhh fuck! Come on Mayumi.” She scowled and took Mayumi’s hand, leading her out into the hall.

“I hate your stupid, fucking name. I’m never going to get used to this!” She muttered to Mayumi with a hint of frustration ebbing into her voice as they padded down the hall in their sandals and entered after a dozen other women.

The room was set up with a circle of chairs all facing inwards with Doctor MacNair already seated at the head of their little circle. Eva took a seat and subtly directed Mayumi to take the seat to her right after she glared at another woman preparing to take it. The woman scurried off with a sharp, mousy look of fear and sat next to the good Doctor while Mayumi and Eva sat opposite her. Eva did not feel comfortable with being any closer to the Doctors than she had to.

"Welcome to group, girls. Who would like to go first today?" Doctor MacNair asked the group.

Eva looked bewildered and confused, her eyes darting to each woman until one timidly raised her hand, she was dirty. It was the only way to describe her. She looked unwashed and her brown curls were cropped but in a mess of tangled dreadlocks which gave way to the fact that there was bits of grass and paper plaited into it. Her jeans had holes and were so stained that the denim colour was undiscernible, her shirt was yellow and badly faded with paint splatter and what looked like spaghetti sauce staining the front.

She smiled at the group and Eva shuddered as her cracked and badly yellowed teeth came into view, more than one of them was blackened, “Hi group! I’m Melody for our new people!” She bowed in Mayumi’s direction, giving a low Japanese style bow with her hands clasped.

“And I think that the showerhead is still no-” Melody stopped as one of the girls shifted in her seat beside Melody and started to pull on her jeans insistently.

“No! Bad Tracy!” Melody smacked the woman’s hand away and Tracy drew her hands up and started to act like a bunny rabbit would when it cleans itself.

Eva watched the bizarre occurrence with a look of total disbelief, what on earth was wrong with these women?!

Melody ignored Tracey and continued to speak quickly, “The showerhead is filled with gnomes!” She said in a horrified and yet delighted manner but looked at Eva and Mayumi with a warning look as she sat down while Eva simply shook her head and gave Mayumi her best what-the-fuck look.
 
Stella sits in her room rocking back and forth writing furiously; oblivious to the sounds of other patients, nurses and orderlies walking by her door. Hair hanging in her face, shoulders hunched over, right hand flying across the pages of her tattered notebook. Streams of consciousness spill out from the end of her pencil practically illegible to anyone but her.

She vaguely remembered the trial. People she didn’t know all staring at her like she wasn’t human. Stella smiled as she sat in the courtroom relishing their glares and dismissive looks. She never felt like she fit in anyway, why should now be any different? There was no on here for her, they were all against her.
She recalls various words and phrases being thrown around the courtroom:

“ward of the state”
“violent” – she almost laughed out loud at that one
“danger to herself and society” – here she remembers rolling her eyes
“institutionalized”
“unbalanced”

Stella knew the judge spoke directly to her at one point, but couldn’t remember one word he had said. Her thoughts were a jumble of memories; emotions flickering behind her green eyes.
Resentment – toward everyone who forced this interruption to her life.
Bitter – at the way her parents fucked her up and set her on this path.
Disheartened – no more sex, drugs, fires, they were taking it all away, what could she possibly have left?
Belligerent – how dare they punish her for society’s mistakes? Wasn’t it the foster system’s responsibility to make sure she had a “good” home? Where were they when her foster father and brother were raping her? Where were they when her foster sister poured her a beer at the tender age of eight? Fuck them all!

She straightened her spine and squared her shoulders as the judge wrapped up his I-am-going-to-make-an-example-of-you speech. She wasn’t going to let some impervious, case-hardened legal cretins bring her down. Tossing her hair and plastering on a cloying smile, Estelle waved and blew everyone a kiss as she was led away. “Fuck you all,” she whispered through clenched teeth.

The entire ride to Massacre she sat in the backseat of van, hands cuffed, legs shackled, rocking back and forth in an effort to control her urges. Her fingers picked at the itchy fabric of her lovely police issued orange pants. She hungered for a lighter, to watch the flames dance in front of her, gaze in wonder as they fed on everything in their path; destroying it. She squeezed her thighs together feeling the familiar ache of arousal starting deep inside of her. Quietly moaning in frustration, Stella watched through heavy lidded eyes as the van approached the towering steel gates. ‘Solvo mens of decrepitus;’ she smiled, decrepit she was not. As the van came to a stop, Stella surveyed the property and wondered what it would all look like burned to the ground. She could see the razor wire and huge steel gates charred and smoldering in piles strewn across the blackened grass.

Now, as she sits cross legged on her bed, rocking and scribbling she thinks back to the Latin phrase she read weeks ago. She wonders if her mind will ever truly be free…free of the decrepit and weak thoughts that have resided there for so long. Her thoughts are disrupted by the sickeningly sweet Doctor McNair whose sing song voice makes her want to vomit.

“It’s group time!”

Stella rolls her eyes and for a split second thinks about putting up a fight, then concedes and slowly gets to her feet. How this woman can say those words like she’s inviting you to Disney World, she’ll never know. She shuffles after her and down the corridor to take her place within the circle.
 
I think you are under-estimating both little Marisa and our not-so-little Nurse..

Tessa looked down, at the eager to please girl snuggled between her thighs. She could still feel Shannon's breath on her ear, the intimate whisper.

When did you start calling her 'Shannon'?

Uli loved leaving her in these position, loved to torment her with soft, warm things.
Uli loved to push her boundaries, to see how far she could go.
Uli loved to bring her over the edge at night when they were alone in bed and Tessa was needy in ways she couldn't show and Uli understood and loved the scent of their sweat and making Tessa cry out and beg for more for release for everything and Uli's laugh and the dizzying plummet into the dark waters with her.

Uli loved to leave her these thoughts, like traps and candy, in her mind.

Tessa was shivering.

Aching.

“No, Marisa, but perhaps Nurse Stewart will pose for you later. I am very fond of your paintings, and would love to see more of them, any of them you would like to share.”

Tessa knew the girl would be sharing more, at least until Teddy felt threatened.
That would make for an interesting conflict. She looked at the painting again, felt Shannon's words. There was a shuddering in Tessa's vision and she realized that all three of them looked at the Asylum in much the same way, just in different colors. She'd known this about Shannon, just not quite so deeply. The girl was a surprise, but Uli must have known. Which means Janey knew. Which means they were hiding things from her. There would be issues.

Untrue!
Maybe true.
STOP IT!


Tessa shut them out, turning Uli's playful teasings of Janey into background noise. She didn't want to leave this room, this strange prism, but there were still things to do.

“Nurse Stewart, if you are available, I'd like you to accompany me to group. Its good if you are a bit more involved in more than just your nursing duties, if you are interested.”

Plus, it'll poke McNair in the eye.

I didn't say it wouldn't be fun. The woman will either become more useful than for parting her thighs for cash, or she'll become just another face. If there's potential, it'll come out if we...

Twist, twist, twist.

Twist.

Tessa stroked Marisa's hair and whispered in the girl's ear.

“I do hope that, when I come back, you'll have things to show me.”

The woman ached to sink her teeth into that soft, warm ear. Her thighs clenched for a moment.

She's your's for the taking. Though it is entirely possible that I've got that backwards.

Jealous?

Tessa lead the way to the group room, feeling the nurse's eyes on her form behind. More and more, she was becoming aware that Nurse Stewart was had an even deeper understanding then she had imagined, of the Asylum and Tessa herself. Tessa saw the Asylum as a work of art. She explored and contemplated it, sought meaning of the world and herself in it. She smiled at the idea that, perhaps, another curator could be found.

And, of course, a promotion would get her out of those horrible nurse's rubber shoes.
Uli is a bad influence on you.
Jealous?

Shannon might have used different words to describe how she felt, might not have developed the depth of understanding or appreciation, but the structural paradigm was there, Tessa was certain.

Need I delve into the interesting ways this might intersect with the Jungian...

That was the problem with a girl who remembered everything. Knew everything.

When she wasn't screaming.

Tessa and Nurse Stewart entered the group room quietly, but didn't try to hide their presence any more than that. Tessa thought she heard McNair stutter, just half a beat. It made her smile.

Twist.

She couldn't deny that McNair was a good psychiatrist, but she lacked a certain “je ne sais quoi”. This would have been fine, albeit boring, except that some part of Tessa knew there was something more. Tessa wanted that.

Tessa hated not getting what she wanted.

The Doctor would either reveal herself, become part of the work, the art, of be painted over so as not to annoy Tessa with might-have-beens.

Petulant.
 
"Afternoon, Dr. MacNair, you don't mind if I sit in for a while, do you?" The dulcet tones did not match those arms, or that back, or that ass. Trista smiled to herself as she looked up into the dreamy eyes of Celestine, the warden. She nodded for the woman and continued to review the files in her hands as the girls filed in.

For the benefit of the warden, Tris placed her pen in her mouth, chewing on the end of it thoughtfully, innocently, and smiled when the other woman shifted in her seat. Tris pulled the pen out with an innocent little smack and pushed it into her hair.

She quietly listened as the girls talked and lamented their mental illness, she had to step in between Melody and Tracy, one was picking at the other. Trista wasn't amused. The two new girls sat there in complete disbelief at the way the patients purported themselves. Trista watched them both intently. Their eyes gave a way nothing, except for the horror of what they were viewing. Trista was inclined to agree with them. Mayumi seemed especially shocked, her wide innocent eyes roving the room. Tris shook her head and looked away. She already hated herself for what she was going to have to do. But funding was funding and it wasn't like Dr. Massacre was going to wake up anytime soon. She had a job to do.

Trista crossed her legs and leaned forward to listen to Stella, one of their latest accouterments, talk. The voice was low and sexy, but Trista wasn't fooled, that was one cold bitch underneath. She took notes as Stella talked, mostly noting the girl's several repeated terms of heat, fire, and flame. There was more there to the story, Trista was determined to hear it.

Course, halfway through group Dr. Massacre herself decided to make her appearance with her new flunky, the nurse whom Trista secretly referred to as klutz. Tess seemed to be appraising Trista again. Trista shifted in her seat and held her anger in check. Every month or so, Dr. Massacre got it in her head that Trista might not be pulling her weight around the asylum, and Trista would spend days putting shit together to prove her worth and Dr. Massacre would be off again on some other tangent, leaving the financial business and day to day maintenance in Trista's completely capable hands. It was this same look that she was employing with her again.Trista wasn't impressed and she toyed with the image of her hand across Tess's face, the resounding slap that would echo across both their offices, and the stunned look on her bosses face. Trista had to shift again as her pussy twitched to that image.

She cleared her throat and smiled softly at the girls.

"I think ladies that will be enough for today. I would like to see Mayumi back in my office in twenty minutes, and Stella, the nurses would like to see you report back to the med closet. Warden Celestine, could you walk with me?'

Trista gathered her things and swept past Massacre, without a glance back. Fuck her if she thinks that anyone else could keep this place running while she played god, this thought made Trista smile. Celestine fell into step with her, her boots in marked contrast to the manolo's next to them.

"Celestine, don't forget we have an inspection this week. And could you make sure the orderlies are ready with the new security measures? You know it's time to change the codes. Make sure that the new codes are on Dr. Massacre's desk. Also, what do you say to dinner later this week?" Trista turned as she stopped and looked at the other woman for an answer.

Either way, Trista was determined to get a piece of Celestine, preferably soon. She was craving some violence, before she raged at her boss.
 
“No, Marisa, but perhaps Nurse Stewart will pose for you later. I am very fond of your paintings, and would love to see more of them, any of them you would like to share.”
The disappointment at being denied was tempered by the compliment that followed the denial. Marisa wanted to pout, to show how upset she was.
Now, now, the Doctor is a busy lady…and she said she would love to see more
Her friend soothed her.

Marisa listened as the Doctor announced she had to leave, inviting the helpful Nurse along with her. Marisa sighed but the sound caught in her throat as the Doctor drew closer, her breath warm along her neck as she spoke.
“I do hope that, when I come back, you'll have things to show me.”
Marisa held back a whine as the Doctor withdrew, catching her perfume as she swept from the room and feeling herself swoon ever so slightly.
Yes, she would to show the Doctor her paintings.
In fact Marisa thought she may well show her anything she wanted.
But then again she might not. She could feel the childish petulance that she hated rising up inside her at being denied.
I only wanted to paint her, show her what I can do…” Marisa murmured to herself, folding her arms over her chest as her lower lip stuck out slightly.

You should give her a gift…
Marisa continued to pout for a moment.

She said you couldn’t paint her while she was here…but she also said she wanted to see things when she comes back. You could have some special things to show her…
Marisa’s keen eyes wandered over the array of colours that had been left in the room. There was a stack of paper in a rack attached to the back of the easel.

It would be nice to paint something for the Doctor, something special that was just for her.
But what…?

Why don’t you paint the Doctor and Nurse Shannon?
Her friend was teasing again, there was that tone again.
Taunting, challenging…dangerous…irresistible…
Marisa’s delicate features frowned. A painting of the Doctor and Nurse Shannon wouldn’t be special.

It will be if you let me guide you…
The frown melted away almost instantaneously.

Within moments, her mind made up (for her) Marisa had selected the largest of the papers and attached it to the easel. Listening carefully to her friend’s instructions, Marisa began to paint. Her face the picture of concentration. Unlike before, she was having to listen, to obey. This painting wasn’t hers. It was her friend’s and it seemed her friend had something very specific in mind.

After half an hour it was finished and Marisa flopped down to sit on the bench.
Unaware of the paint she’d rubbed across her forehead or the many splashes that had made it past her clothes and onto her chest, drips of bright colour edging down between her breasts to disappear beyond the fabric of her top.
Unaware of the paint on the floor.
Unaware the Deborah the Silent had come into the room a good ten minutes previously and had watched her painting.

Marisa was only aware of two things.

The praise of her friend echoing in her mind and the pride she felt every time she looked at the painting.

They’ll love it, I just know they will…

It was simple enough in its composition. To the passer-by it didn’t seem like much at all. But upon closer inspection there was something very definite happening in the centre. It was largely a mass of colour, broad, wild streaks of paint, her paintings always looked like that when her friend guided her. But in the centre, the palest colours were something specific. There were two figures entwined, arms and legs around one another. A pair of lovers in an intimate embrace. Two women. Their curving, lean figures pressing impossibly close.

Closer inspection still revealed their faces and it was their faces, hidden among the chaos of colour, that would be Marisa’s surprise for the Doctor. It was the way her friend had described them. Two people lost in chaos. Two medical professionals trapped in the asylum.

Marisa sat back on her bed, fingers curling her hair eagerly.
Her eyes suddenly noticed Deborah for the first time and a broad, happy, smile swiftly curved her lips.
Deborah! Oh you’re just in time. What do you think of my painting? It’s for the Doctor…” Marisa bounced off her bed to sit beside her silent room mate who didn’t so much as flinch when she did.
I hope she’ll like it. You’ve been gone such a long time today but I won’t make me tell you where you’ve been. So let me tell you about my day instead…
 
Celestine

The group was controlled chaos. Of course, what could you expect with such a mixture of personalities and worries? On top of that, the good Doctor was trying to drive Celestine out of her mind with those pouty lips and cantilevered legs that begged to stroked, held, touched, held open and plundered. The clicking of the pen, the shape of well muscled calves...well, the poor Warden could feel her control slipping, at least until Tessa and her newest play pet sauntered in.

Celestine's eyes traced both forms with a barely there shudder. Both women had something about them that called and repelled her. It was infuriating, disgusting, annoying and just plain bad for business to feel so many conflicting emotions when it came to co-workers or bosses. Doctor MacNair didn't cause those kinds of conflicts...she just made Celestine...want. Brutally, hard, dirty and with a vengeance.

With a shake of her head, she forced her mind back on the task at hand: the group. Her hand flew over the pages of her notebook as she jotted notes~Stella:firebug, emotionally abused? Probably sexual at some point. New lost lambs~don't look abused. Just lost? wonder about BDSM in past? Should find out...slaves maybe? There was more but her mind divorced itself from her jotting hand...she paid no mind, only filtering what was needed to the pen and pad.

Eventually group ended and Dr. MacNair's seductive alto cleared the cobwebs from her mind.


"I think ladies that will be enough for today. I would like to see Mayumi back in my office in twenty minutes, and Stella, the nurses would like to see you report back to the med closet. Warden Celestine, could you walk with me?"

Celestine rose and stretched slightly, before granting assent with a nod of her head and smile for the lost ones as they began herding themselves out the door and back to their various rooms. Her eyes locked onto Dr. Massacre and the nurse...what the hell was her name?? for just a moment before she followed MacNair's curves out into the hallway. Her mind was still processing what she had heard, what she had learned when the Dr.'s voice brought her back to the present.

"Celestine, don't forget we have an inspection this week. And could you make sure the orderlies are ready with the new security measures? You know it's time to change the codes. Make sure that the new codes are on Dr. Massacre's desk. Also, what do you say to dinner later this week?"

The warden stopped her forward movement, her eyes widening slightly at the woman's question. She debated a quick answer but stopped her mouth before it got started. The question was not asked rudely...as a matter of fact, it was almost as if the good doctor had just slipped it in...

"I have contacted the Inspector and set up the time. The orderlies have been prepped and I will finish typing the codes up and have them to Dr. Massacre by tomorrow morning." Her voice slid deeper into dark honey as she gave the first answer that popped into her head concerning the last question MacNair had asked. "As to what I say..." Celestine stepped closer, her hand curling around MacNair's wrist tightly... "We could try for Friday evening, at my place. Dress appropriately." A lower voice; darker, deeper... "Appropriate, of course, means easy to remove..." A long, lingering look before a wide grin popped dimples into her cheeks... "Or would you prefer to be the hunter?"

With no more words, she released the Doctor's wrist and stepped away. Her facade of perfect poise and leashed heat returned, only the glittering in her brown eyes gave anything away. Including the hunger she felt for some ..****.

"I await your decision with bated breath. As for the rest? It will be done as asked, as quickly as possible. I will leave the info concerning our inspection time and date on your desk." A smile "Don't keep me waiting concerning our...date, please..." Another smile and Celestine strode away, her legs carrying her toward her office and away from the seductive woman who was probably going to get the warden into ALL kinds of trouble...but it would be well worth it to see her trembling and whimpering...well worth it indeed.

The phone rang just Celestine sat down at her desk. Her mind snapped back into business mode, dispelling the heat speaking to MacNair had caused. With quick motions, she pressed the answer button and spoke..."Celestine speaking. How may I help you?"
 
“I hate your stupid, fucking name. I’m never going to get used to this!”

Thanks to Eva, Mayumi was smiling when she entered the group room. Eva had always worn her frustrations and inner conflict right on her sleeve and it reassured Mayumi a little to know that in her own way, Eva was as scared and lost as she was. Mayumi was feeling increasingly buffeted by circumstance. At La Trinacria her powerlessness had been the natural way of things, her status quo since before she could remember. When she was bought and forced to adjust to Master's household, once again control was in the hands of someone she respected, trusted and eventually loved. Here in Massacre however, her utter powerlessness was terrifying, for the keyholders and gatekeepers were enemies of La Trinacria and stood directly between Mayumi and her beloved Master's bedside.

Her loss of trusted control was keeping Mayumi in a state of constant panic. It turned her anxiety inwards too, drowning her in self loathing. She had still to utter a word to anyone but Eva within these walls and the absence of conversation was reinforcing her internal monologue. Mayumi had even been conditioned for this. Master's worst punishments were never physical, nor did he use humiliation to chastise her, Mayumi enjoyed these things to much. When Master punished her, she simply ceased to exist for him and not just him, even Eva too. He could go for days without glancing at her, addressing her or mentioning her in any way. She would follow him around like a ghost, tending to her duties and maintaining a respectful distance but following him nonetheless. After extended periods of such total neglect, Mayumi could begin to doubt her own existence. The first few times this happened, she would become clumsy through malnutrition or find some other way to be more noticeable but Master never once wavered or flinched. When he did finally forgive her, Mayumi would collapse emotionally, crying hard enough to choke herself and craving contact with him so much that his touch and the sound of his voice would make her cum reflexively, a violent climax that would remind her forcibly of how much she needed and deserved to be treated like this.

This is all my fault, I put us in here with my stupidity.

Master trained me better than this, I have failed him.

I always fail.

I'm useless, worthless, nothing but a set of holes. Master should have cut out my tongue to keep me from shaming him like this.

I'll never see him again.

I don't deserve to.

He needs me, he needs us. I must be strong.

He needs Eva. He has never needed me.

How will he begin to punish me for this? How will I bear it?

It's better for everyone if I die here. Just stop eating and drinking and fade away.


Anyone who has been in a constant state of panic however, knows that such a state is mentally and physically taxing... hard to maintain. Unless fresh new terrors are laid on thick, the edges become blunted. Mayumi had been lulled somewhat by the group, in which she had not been asked to participate. Eva had been there anyway, ready to speak for her if the need arose. It was shocking and disturbing to see the state of the other inmates but Mayumi was at least reassured that she and Eva were nowhere near that batshit. She did not know how gaunt and haunted she looked or how eerie her total silence made her.

The woman running the group seemed conscious that all eyes were on her. Certainly she was holding her body tensed so it appeared to best advantage and sucking on her pen like an amateur pornstar. Mayumi had no idea for whose benefit this display was, certainly not her own or Eva's. Then just when Mayumi thought she had survived group time unscathed, she was summoned to the woman's office. Mayumi had no idea who ranked above who in this place, nor did she know where this office was. Eva squeezed her hand reassuringly but then rose and quickly moved away, back towards her own room. Mayumi knew just from the way Eva had moved that she was not expected to join her. She lifted her almond eyes to the retreating back of the woman who had summoned her, swallowed hard and then began to follow at a distance, padding silently across the floor, almost too underweight to be affected by gravity. The woman would doubtless lead Mayumi to her office.

Mayumi heard the exchange between the two women and was surprised. The dark skinned orderly gave an impression of such outward indifference to staff and patients alike that Mayumi had assumed she was completely heterosexual, yet here she was throwing the gauntlet down in front of her colleague. If the orderly noticed Mayumi as she moved away, she gave no indication. Mayumi reluctantly tailed the woman around the place until they reached her office. She did not want to go in there but she was too well trained to return in her room defiantly or start yelling and throwing things.

When it came to keeping La Trinacria's secrets and those of her Master however, she would be defiant as far as death. It was the only thing she could do right now. The only way to begin to atone.
 
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“Nurse Stewart, if you are available, I'd like you to accompany me to group. Its good if you are a bit more involved in more than just your nursing duties, if you are interested.”

Shannon looked up at the back of Tessa's' head. 'So I'm back to Nurse Stewart again, huh?' She thought as she watched the two, ha two, woman on the bench. Tessa's' back straighter, her pitch tighter, very interesting. 'Why did I have to have my head in my hands, I missed her shift.' continued her train of thought on the edge of the mattress as well as the edge of craving. Why did this woman have to intrigue her so. Giving herself a shake she rose to her feet as Tessa's' head dipped to whisper in Marissa's' ear.

Shannon watched Marissa pine at the departing doctor with such womanly hunger and child like posturing, it was funny and sad and fascinating. She followed a few paces behind Tessa rubbing her own neck. Wishing she could rub much more tension from her body, but that would have to wait. Her eyes drifted from the cascade of hair over every sensuous curve. Tessa's stride had returned; driven, clipped, absolutely measured. You could almost set a clock by the click of her heals. Though the body attached to those heels moved with equal tempo it was much more elegant to watch. No, not more elegant than the metered clicks, they were just two different forms of elegant. Is not a fractal quite elegant in its exacting and infinite precision and just like Tessa, at first glance extremely beautiful but the closer you look the more interesting details you find. Quite the same as the way muscle moves, shapes and reshapes even the softest of curving flesh.

A half-step behind they entered the room with group already in session and she slipped herself to the edge of the room to watch the dynamics. Back to the wall and one foot propped on the wall behind her. The chatter of the circle was, as always, inane drivel. None of them ever shared useful information in here. All a show, secrets safe enough for public ears, pieces and parts of each ones mask. It was their silent communications that meant much more.

Stella with her hair obscuring her face, the fading tattered notebook clutched to her lap. Shannon smiled wondering what's in it or even how it would pertain to her diagnosis and fun ways to play with her. Mayumi leaned toward Eva absorbing the room almost through her. Looking for Eva's cues. The girls didn't react out of sorts to Melody's 'confession'. Melody's' odd phobia was strange even for this place. So apparently the girls were not accustomed to this type of odd behavior. Good, good, something else was keeping one silent and the other as sentinel. Then there was the warden watching them all from within the circle, taking notes. Shannon wondered if her notes contained a detailed diagram of McNair's legs, lips or thighs as every other look the woman gave the group centered on another portion of the temptingly feisty doctor.

The meeting ends and you would think all the patients would scurry out the door to get back to whatever the day has planned but no. That's thinking like the sane sheeple outside the asylum walls. No, in here when you call the end of a gathering its like lifting the glass lid off a rhino-beetle race. They all meander about, their own thoughts carrying them to wherever. Except the two. The silent one following McNair, the sentinel going straight out the door. Later she found out Eva went directly to her room. These two are not the typical lost lambs found within our razor wire topped fences.

Distantly following Mayumi out the door Shannon pauses to watch her follow McNair, deliberately set apart, pausing almost step for step. Interesting.

Those clicking heels draw tension to her spine as she watches the flow of the room. Shannon's voice was definitely directed at Tessa though not looking at her. She splits her attention to observe the organism that is the asylum and the woman beside her, the radiating persona that Tessa always is, no matter which she is.

“I think it's delightful to have three new patients so close together. It gives everyone something fresh to do. A little bit of controlled chaos to their order. Not that we have an overabundance of order but there is a flow that gets disrupted when we get new ones or lose old ones. An adjustment to the wakes and tides. Its rather beautiful in its own way. Don't you think?”
 
Stella hated group. She hated it was a passion. All of these women with their clipboards and agendas, she didn’t belong here.
“But where else are you going to go?” her mind whispered.
She almost jumped in her chair and turned her head to see whose lips were so close to her ear the voice sounded so real. She longed to be home, but had no idea where or what home really was. She felt safest when she was strung out and unleashing her pent up aggression. She did not feel safe here.

Peering out from her curtain of hair she glanced around the room hearing words and phrases but not paying attention. What did she care what the crazies had to say? She was quite intrigued with the two “new’ girls; especially the one that said nothing and looked like an anorexic walking corpse. And then there was Melody – she rolled her eyes and stifled a yawn as she yammered on about gnomes and other psycho bullshit. For a brief second she envisioned Melody running through the halls of Massacre screaming as her body burned and the flames gave off a mesmerizing light.

Stella’s fingers traced patterns on the cover of her notebook as she continued to scan the room, her green eyes still shielded by her ribbons of red hair. At the sound of her name she seemed to shrink even further in her chair. She knew it was coming, they had gone around the circle and her time had come to speak. She dreaded putting a voice to her feelings, hated letting people in.

She began softly, her voice low and never rising.
“I’m here because they made me. I was fine where I was, doing what I was doing. The fires weren’t my idea, they just…happened. I love their intensity, their heat, the way the flames dance. When you’re high and sitting that close to the heat, there’s nothing that can compare. Fire created the earth you know, made us who we are. The flames cleanse things, not destroy. Nothing can last forever. Heat and fire are powerful, they demand respect.”
She had said too much and stopped talking almost as abruptly as she started.

She focused on Dr. McNair now that the spotlight was off of her and immediately picked up on her visible sexuality. Her legs crossed, one shapely calf bouncing against the other, skirt hiked up just a touch too high as her lips and teeth worked the end of her pen as if she were fellating it. Stella was attuned to sex like a wild animal tensed to sniff out prey. Noticing quick glances back and forth between the Dr and the warden, Stella knew exactly where the sexual tension was coming from. She hid a leering smile and wished she could read the wardens notebook. How she longed to open her own and start writing, but she knew the rules of group and did not want her personal diatribes taken away. Instead, she hunched over further, her hair completely obscuring her face and nervously jiggled her leg up and down. Then finally, it was over…or so she thought.

“…and Stella, the nurses would like to see you report back to the med closet.”


Again with the voice – she could have just as easily been saying, “And Stella, Mickey and Minnie would like to invite you to dinner as their special guest.” She remained in the horribly uncomfortable chair until everyone or just about everyone had dispersed from the circle. She didn’t fail to notice that Dr McNair and the warden left in the same direction.

The med closet should have excited her, but she knew better. She wasn’t going to get more of what she wanted, she was either going to get less or more of what she didn’t want. Shuffling slowly out of the room she made her way to the nurses’ station, her notebook tucked under one arm and mumbling, barely audible, over and over again, “I’m not crazy…I’m not crazy…I’m not crazy”.
 
Jackie McAffrey

Lindsay-Lohan-Book-500x333.jpg

Would one be considered insane if he looked in the mirror and saw three different reflections staring back? Most likely, yet.. Jackie was perfectly sane, atleast.. according to herself.

"Oh, stop the damn act already. You're as sane as everyone else in this hellhole." The reflection over her left shoulder snarled. While the girl looked exactly the same as the other two, there was a certain disgust or hatred in the way she leant against the heating.

"Now, now sweety.. that's no way to treat our sister." The second reflection giggled softly as she peered into the make-up cupboard. "It's not dear little Jackie's fault that we're so... hard to control. Is it?
The third, and probably the most normal of the three sighed loudly.
"You two are driving me completely up the wall, you know that.. Wish I could just make sure neither of you ever existed to begin with."

Hillary laughed, a mocking gesture. "Yea, you'd wish indeed. We're both just parts of your mind, Jackie. You can't erase us without losing yourself in the process." She wrapped the towel around her shoulders. "We've been a part of you for more then 22 years, can't we have some time outside for a change?"

"Not if it means getting me locked up, like last time!" The second reflection, that called herself Sandy, laughed heartily at that comment. "Now that she mentions it, that was pretty uncalled for..."
"Oh please, don't get me started on your whorish behaviour." Jackie glared over her shoulder. Her voice rose to a mocking tone. "Ohhh, please fuck me Nurse Stewart.. please!"
"Hey! It's not my fault that you were such a wallflower and a virgin for 19 years!" The colour in Sandy's cheeks rose, she hated being mocked for doing what she enjoyed.

"Ugh.. can you two please just shut up... otherwise you'll get us all tranq'd and locked up... Not like that wouldn't amuse me, but still.." Hillary grinned as she stepped out of the bathroom, leaving the two others behind in the mirror, grinding their teeth in frustration. With Hillary outside, it was only a matter of time before the fuse would burn up.

The insane are, on occasion, not without their charms.
They make for great observation targets.
But one like Jackie, one would never know what to expect.
What part of the three would seize control, and which were left behind.
 
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