“So what does he do to you?” Bradley asked. “Ask you about your family too?”
“I’m not allowed to talk about it,” Tate said, “or I won’t be allowed downstairs anymore.”
“What’s downstairs?”
“The basement,” Tate said, concentrating extra hard on the puzzle pieces as though trying to tune Bradley out.
Bradley was not so easily deterred. “What’s in the basement?”
Tate frowned. “What does it matter to you? If you’re good, or bad, you’ll see it soon enough.”
It was an ominous warning, and one Bradley didn’t like. He had to get hold of his lawyer.
Bradley stood up and walked over to the nurses’ station, banging on the cage. “Lunch hasn’t come; I want to call my lawyer.”
The nurses paid him no mind. One made notes on a chart, and the other carefully counted out medication.
“Do you hear me?” he demanded, crashing his fist against the cage again.
The nurse who had spoken to him earlier looked up and said, “Mr Walker, you behave yourself now, or you won’t get dinner.”
“Dinner?” he repeated incredulously. “What happened to lunch, dammit?”
“Mr Walker,” she said in that sing-song voice, “you behave yourself now, or you won’t get any dinner.”
Bradley shook his head and stormed back to Tate. “What’s with the nurses? Why do they repeat themselves?”
Tate shook his head. “Don’t know what you mean,” he said, piecing together the puzzle quite easily. He had made quite a bit of progress since Bradley went to talk to the nurses.
“We haven’t had lunch yet, and they’re talking about me not getting any dinner.”
“Lunch was mac and cheese,” Tate said, glancing up. “Don’t you remember?”
“I didn’t get mac and cheese,” Bradley said, frowning. “I didn’t get anything to eat at all.”
“Yeah, you did, we ate together,” Tate said. “You still complained that you preferred your mac and cheese with bacon.”
Bradley was baffled. He didn’t remember having anything for lunch, and yet Tate somehow knew that he preferred his mac and cheese with bacon, something not just anyone would know. His stomach growled loudly, and he held it, rocking back and forth somewhat. “I don’t remember eating lunch.”
“Must be the medication they give you,” Tate nodded sagely. “It can make you forget things.”
“I didn’t take any medication,” Bradley whined. “I haven’t put anything into my body all day. Not food, not water, not even medication. I would remember.”
“Unless the medication made you forget,” Tate said, tapping his nose with his forefinger as though he had just solved an amazing riddle.
Confused, Bradley shook his head, not bothering to argue any further; he realised it was pointless.
The doors opened, and a large group of orderlies came in.
“Bedtime, ladies and gents,” Cooper called.
“What about dinner?” Bradley complained, shocked that they were being sent straight to bed.
It couldn’t have been five o’clock. He looked to the windows only to find it was already dark outside, surely past five o’clock, and he suddenly felt fatigued.
“What you on about, convict?” Cooper asked. “I told you no seconds, no pigs.” Cooper shook his head. “Come on, before I put you in solitary.”
He shoved Bradley and this time Bradley snapped, turning around to push Cooper back. “I haven’t eaten anything the whole goddam day!” he yelled. “I know my rights! I know I have to be fed. Stop fucking with my brain!”
Cooper held his hands up. “Easy, convict, you’re tripping right now.”
“I’m not tripping anything. I haven’t had any medication.”
“Sure you didn’t,” Cooper said, his tone condescending. “And of course you haven’t eaten. Why don’t you just calm down and we’ll take you up to your room and get you sorted, you hear?”
Bradley backed away from Cooper. “No, I want to see Dr Wellbottom or Dr Brock. This is abuse!”
The next thing he felt was a pin-like pinch prick in his neck.
The nurse from the cage held an empty syringe in her hand. “There, there, Mr Walker. You’ll sleep it off real easy.”
Everything started to fade out to black.
——
Chapter Two
When Bradley woke up, he was in his room, on his hard bed. He couldn’t quite understand what had woken him until he heard the squeaking of what was unmistakably a rat. He opened his eyes into darkness; he couldn’t see anything and had to wait for his eyes to adjust.
The rat squeaked loudly when he slowly sat up - it must have been close to where he set his feet down - and it scampered off into the pitch dark. His stomach growled, and he groaned softly. He couldn’t remember what had happened, how he had gotten here, and why was he so damn hungry.
Memories came flooding back after a few minutes of sitting in the silence. Bradley remembered the day, how he had been treated, and how he wanted something to eat, but everyone acted like he had already eaten. Then Cooper, the orderly, wanted to return him to his room, but he needed to see Dr Wellbottom or Dr Brock. Then the nurse, jabbing him with an injection that clearly made him pass out.
Bradley held his head in his hands and rubbed his temples, willing the last of the fog in his brain away.
Where had they sent him? What kind of institution was this that people didn’t get fed? Or was it only him? Was the cop killer the only one not getting food?
Bradley couldn’t stand the thought of not being fed for days on end. It was a cruel, unusual punishment that went against his God-given rights as a human being, even if he was a cop killer. That cop deserved it.
He heard the metal lock slide out of place, and the door swung open to reveal Cooper and Kevin.
“Ah, the convict is awake. Have a good sleep?” Cooper didn’t wait for an answer; he came inside the cell and pulled Bradley to his feet.
“Am I getting food today?”
“After your session,” Kevin grunted, grabbing Bradley’s other arm and dragging him down the hallway and down the stairs.
They were headed the same way as the day before, to one of the examination rooms where Dr Brock was waiting for them. They forced him to sit in the chair and strapped him down,
“Just in case you get any ideas,” Cooper hissed in his ear, making the straps a little too tight.
They left him there, waiting for Dr Brock to show up.
While waiting, Bradley looked around. It smelt like piss and shit, something he hadn’t noticed the day before, but for all intents, it was clean, so he wasn’t sure where the smell originated from.
Dr Brock entered with his notepad, moving hurriedly, and sat at the table.
“Mr Walker,” he said with that thick German accent, “we don’t have time for silly games today. Are you going to cooperate, or do you wish to return to your room for the day?”
Bradley wanted to snap out a reply, but his grumbling stomach reminded him of breakfast after the session; he didn’t want to jeopardise that.
“I’ll play along,” Bradley said, trying to get comfortable. “What do you want to know, doc?”
“Tell me about your mother.” He opened his notebook to a blank page and wrote Bradley’s name on top. “Tell me what she looked like through your eyes.”
“My mother was an angel, doc,” Bradley said sincerely, “an absolute angel with long blond hair and perky breasts. I can still remember the taste of them in my mouth … is that weird?” He shook his head, as though he hadn’t meant to say that.
Dr Brock was taking notes and murmured, “We often imagine we remember sucking our mother’s breasts and what it tastes like. Go on.”
“I didn’t imagine it, doc. You don’t get it. I sucked on those tits until I was just shy of twenty. My mother knew what was good for me and what it meant to take care of her boy.”
Dr Brock examined him, and Bradley
could read the judgment all over his face. Suddenly he felt ill, as though he had shared too much and was dirtying the memory of his mother, but the truth was, thinking about her, about how she breastfed him until she got sick, made his dick hard.
“Interesting,” Dr Brock said. “So your mother chose to breastfeed you into adulthood. Why did she stop?”
“She got sick and didn’t have the strength to make me the milk anymore.”
“Did she consider switching you to normal milk?” Dr Brock asked.
“No, she said there were too many chemicals in normal milk. She said I’d have to simply live off normal food like other people and she prayed, doc, she prayed with me that she had given me enough milk to sustain me through life, to keep me fit and healthy.”
Bradley wanted to stop talking, but it seemed as if his mouth had disconnected from his brain and he had no control whatsoever over it.
“I see you are aroused.”
It was a statement, not a question, so Bradley didn’t respond; he could feel his erection straining against his pants.
“Did you become aroused whenever you fed off your mother?”
“Sometimes,” he admitted. “Sometimes my dick got hard while I was eating, but she’d always take care of that for me.”
“Really?” Dr Brock was genuinely surprised now; his raised eyebrows gave it away more so than any change in his tone. He seemed to only have one, flat tone to speak in.
“Yeah,” Bradley said, willing himself to stop talking. “She’d say that if I were a good boy and finished all my milk, she’d milk me, and she always did.”
“I see.” Dr Brock scribbled more notes Bradley couldn’t see. “Is there anything else you want to tell me about your mother?”
“She would suck my cock.”
Bradley was ashamed to admit it out loud and tears formed in his eyes. He could remember it like it was yesterday, the way his mother would make him lay down and she would cup his balls and wrap her small lips around his shaft, bobbing her head up and down until he came. It made him feel sick and dirty, and yet he couldn’t control the erection as it throbbed in his pants. He felt ready to cum now while he was talking to the doctor.
Suddenly Dr Brock stood up. “That’s it for today’s session, Bradley. We will resume tomorrow.”
“But I have more to say,” he pleaded. “I have more to tell you.”
“Save it for tomorrow,” the doctor said. “I have other patients that need my attention now. Cooper and Kevin will be in shortly to take you to the day room.” With that, he left and didn’t look back.
——
Bradley had this odd sense of abandonment as he watched the Doctor leave. Not sure what to do with himself, he shifted around, and the feeling of his pants rubbing against his erection made him moan. He carried on, trying to release his tension, when the door behind him opened, forcing him to stop.
“Aw, look, Kev,” Cooper said, “Convict’s got a hard-on. Maybe we should help him.”
Kevin guffawed at Cooper’s comments, and for a moment Bradley was scared of what they could do to him while he was strapped down. They didn’t do anything. They simply untied him and took him by his arms, half dragging him from the room.
They only let go of him once they reached the day room. Same as the day before, some patients were playing with puzzles while others sat by the window staring out.
Tate was there, sitting near a little girl with red hair. Bradley walked over to Tate and sat down, crossing his legs to hide his obvious affliction. Tate noticed and smiled, but didn’t say anything as he pushed an empty cup towards the little girl.
“Fill her up, Clara,” he said and looked at Bradley. “Enjoy your session with Dr B?”
“Yeah,” Bradley said.
His mind was hazy as though he was drugged. He then realised he hadn’t had breakfast, and got up, going to the nurses’ station.
“Hey,” he said to the nurse on duty. “Hey, miss,” he repeated when she didn’t look up. He rattled the cage. “Hey, I haven’t had anything to eat since I got here. Can I please get some food?”
The nurse looked up and shook her head. “It’s already past breakfast time, Mr Walker; you’ll have to wait for lunch if you didn’t eat enough.”
“I didn’t eat anything,” Bradley whined, clinging to the cage, but she looked away and continued making notes in her binder.
He rattled the cage again for good measure before going back to Tate and Clara.
“Have you eaten?” he demanded.
He had to figure out if they were cruel to him or if they were simply cruel to everyone in general and forgot to feed them.
“Yeah, I was sitting next to you at breakfast, remember?” Tate said. “You had the same as always, oats with milk and honey.”
“I don’t remember that. I would remember that.”
“How can you not?” Tate asked. “It’s your favourite. You said they make it like your mom used to.”
Bradley clenched his fists. “I’m telling you I haven’t eaten since I got here, Tate.”
“Calm down, man.” Tate held up his hand and pointed to Clara. “You’ll scare her, and you really don’t want to. She’s Dr B’s favourite.”
Bradley looked at Clara, who was pretending to pour a cup of tea for Tate. She seemed to ignore the conversation as a whole, so he didn’t get how he could possibly scare her, but he fell silent.
“As for your other problem,” Tate said, putting a hand on his leg.
Bradley pushed it away. “I’m not a fag,” he seethed.
“Well, there are other ways,” Tate said. “Like the nurses on duty leaving their keys lying around so we can get in and do what we want.” He held up a set of keys with a smirk.
Bradley looked at the nurses behind the station and felt unrequited rage stir against them, especially for lying about feeding him.
“Let’s do it. Blond one’s mine,” Bradley said, eyeing the nurse with the bigger tits. They strained against her little nurse uniform and his erection throbbed again, as though reminding him it was there.
Tate got up. “Come on.”
Bradley followed Tate as he casually made his way over to the other side of the ward. They checked the nurses weren’t watching before they slowly approached the gate that separated them from the patients. Tate quickly unlocked the gate and walked in, hitting the one nurse over the head with his fist, sending her to the floor.
Bradley locked the gate behind him and tossed the keys in the corner before grabbing the blond nurse whose name tag read Megan. She screamed as she tried to fight him off, but he threw her down, forcing her onto her stomach. He pulled her panties down and forced himself into her, moving his hips quickly. He looked over at Tate raping the other nurse anally, groaning mixed with the screams, and soon the other patients were going wild, shrieking and rattling the cage of the nurses’ station as they watched.
Bradley looked over to the little girl Clara standing to his immediate left and saw a strange smile on her face as he moved his hips, groaning loudly as he released his cum inside Megan. He stood and pulled his pants up just as the orderlies came into the room. He smiled at Kevin and Cooper and gave them the finger; even if it meant he wasn’t getting lunch, he didn’t care. He would show them.
He turned around just as it happened.
Tate pulled out of the other nurse with a grunt, spraying snotty strands of cum everywhere. While the orderlies tried to get the other set of keys to enter the caged area, Tate seized a scalpel and stabbed the nurse he had raped. Making sure she was dead, he then reached down for his now limp dick. Holding it firmly in his hand, he screamed like a maniac as he sawed through it, cutting it right off and waving it around.
While bleeding out, he shoved it into the nurse’s anus, much to the amusement of the other patients, and pulled it in and out a few times before he collapsed from blood loss.
Bradley simply stood there and watched, not sure what to do, but knowing it had gone too far. He looked up an
d, through the chain links of the cage, saw Dr Brock at the door, looking utterly disappointed at Tate lying in a pool of his own blood.
The orderlies finally managed to open up and instantly jumped on Bradley, injecting him in the neck with something that made him completely limp.
——
They dragged him out of the caged area, and he was in and out of consciousness as he was then hauled down the corridor and up the stairs. He would doze off only to open his eyes to a blinding bright white light. It happened a few times, and it felt as if it took the orderlies forever to get him back to his room.
Once there, Bradley mumbled something about food and not being allowed to eat before they threw him on his bed. They strapped him down, and Kevin straddled his hips.
“Think you can attack one of us and get away with it?” he asked, punching Bradley in the face.
He didn’t feel the hit; he felt only the motion of his head slamming to the right. It felt as if it happened in slow motion. It made him feel sick like he was going to vomit. Kevin hit him again, and it felt the same.
“Get off him.” Bradley heard Cooper’s voice in the distance. “There are better ways to punish him.”
Hands fiddled at the waistband of his pants, and he shook his head, trying to mumble his defiance, but nothing came out.
Once his pants were yanked down to his knees, Cooper called out to someone, and he or she came in. Bradley managed to open his eyes for a brief moment to see the strangest sight. It was Mary Sue-Ellen, the midget he met in the day room that went to Dr Brock for treatment. Only, it was confusing, because she had no pants on and a penis was definitely attached to her groin area where her vagina should have been.
She crawled on top of him and then he heard the strangest sound, like a bike pump being used to blow up a tyre. The shh-shh-shh of rushing air sounded before a searing pain filled his body. Mary Sue-Ellen pushed her now hard dick into his anus without any warning or lubricant. Tears involuntarily formed and fell as he realised, in a daze, that he was being raped by a female midget with a fake penis. It was bizarre. It had to be a dream, but it felt so real.
Asylum Box Set Page 14
