by Dani René
“Fuck. That’s some heavy shit. I’m so sorry that you had to deal with that growing up,” I tell her, thinking about my own past and how it’s not much different than hers.
“Thanks,” she laughs sarcastically, “that makes everything all better.”
“Brynn, I understand why you put up your walls and use your attitude to deflect pain and emotion.”
“I may have told you a piece of my life, but you don’t know shit, Dick!”
“I was four the first time my mother let a john touch me,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
What the fuck? I’ve never told anyone that before. Where did that come from? I keep my composure because it looks like my admission sobered her reaction very quickly.
“But we’re here to talk about you,” I need to turn it back to her.
“Oh,” she looks down, ashamed for her outburst.
“When did the abuse start?”
“I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t being abused in some way. My mother wasn’t always a participant, though. That didn’t happen until after my father died.”
“What kind of abuse did your father put you through?”
“All of it. My mother fell hard for him. He was the true love of her life. The motherfuckers were perfect for one another,” she spat.
“Once he died,” she continues, “she would tell me she hated me because I look just like him. She started bringing all kinds of men home with her. Letting them fuck her, making us watch so we could ‘learn how to please a man’ as she would say. She would show us how to touch ourselves to make it feel good. She would let them touch us. She would yell at us if we cried or tried to push them away. Sometimes she would tell the men not to stop until our tears dried up. The men usually weren’t violent, because they didn’t need to be. There were a couple who liked to get a little brutal. But then she met Phil, and that changed drastically.”
She stopped there, and I took the opportunity to make some notes before continuing with my questions. I need to know what she likes and get down to the reasons behind them all.
“Now, describe some of your inclinations for me.”
I get another deep breath and eye roll from her, but she begins speaking almost immediately.
“I just like sex, that’s all. I was practically raised learning how to make people, myself included, feel good.”
“I looked through your arrest record, and it seems as though you’re quite the risk-taker.”
“Is something considered a risk if you don’t care about the outcome? Because I don’t give a fuck. Well, unless it involves whatever the female version of blue balls is. Then I get pissed.”
“So, as long as you orgasm, you don’t care about anything else?”
“That’s right,” she answers, stone-faced.
“So, if I were to attack you, hold you down, and rape you, you wouldn’t care as long as you got off?”
That question made her think.
“Well, not exactly. But that’s hardly an issue. I’m not afraid of that happening because it’s rare that I ever say no.”
“You do it because you want to or because you feel like you have to?”
She glares at me because she doesn’t like the question. I know that she thinks she has to say yes to the people who want to hurt her. But she tells herself that she wants it, so she never has to play the victim ever again. I know that game well, having played it myself for many years.
“Because I want to. I like it. I don’t care what kind or where it happens. The more exciting or dangerous, the better.”
“Hmm… interesting,” I say.
I think I’m going to enjoy cognitive therapy with Brynn, very much.
Brynn
The sun shining through the window in my barren room awakens me earlier than I was anticipating. The clock on the wall in front of me tells me that it’s 6:37.
“What the fuck?” I say to myself before rolling over and placing my pillow over my head.
Then, he pops into my head.
Dr. Dick.
I laugh out loud, saying his name. I mean, how fucking perfect for a pervert like me to have a doctor whose nickname is ‘Dick’? My laughter alerts me to the fact that I need to pee. Dragging myself out of bed, I walk to the toilet in the corner of the room. This place is like a jail, but with a bigger room and a better toilet.
But no roomie that I can get to scratch my itches when I need them to be taken care of. I have to do it all by myself when I’m locked in here each night. The warm liquid trickles from my body, giving my bladder a break, and it feels good. I start thinking about Dr. Dick some more. He’s fucking hot, and picturing him sends the aching shiver I know all too well down my spine. It’s time for my morning release. I need it like a smoker needs their morning cigarette. Like a drug addict needs their fix.
My hands lightly trace a path up the insides of my thighs, tickling my skin, and heightening my senses the further they rise. I stop moving my left hand, but my right hand continues its path until it finds its way to my clit.
God, I need this.
I wasn’t able to make myself come last night, which was aggravating as hell. I blame it on my session because Dr. D was able to get me to say too much. When I get too in tune with my true feelings, I go numb. I hate it.
Remembering back to when he was in my isolation chamber with me, my fingers begin to move more rapidly, drawing out the feeling that I so desperately need right now. I picture the way his shirt was stretched over his muscles. I want his big, strong hands on my body. If he were here right now, I would beg him to wrap one of them around my neck while the other one digs its fingers deep inside of my pussy.
The vision of it sends a jolt to my core, and I stand up over the toilet. My juices mix with my pee as I shoot it hard and fast into the bowl beneath me. The spray is so strong that it splashes back up and gets my legs and ass cheeks wet.
I breathe slowly and try to take deep breaths to calm my heart rate down. That was another strong one. I don’t know what it is about Mr. Tall, Dark, and Fuckable, but I need more from him. I need his hands on me. My mind is like mush, and I want to go back to sleep. I would if it weren’t for the fact that my legs are all wet now. I guess I may as well grab a shower.
It’s been a week since Dr. Dick showed up, and I must say that he certainly makes things a hell of a lot more interesting around here.
I’m sitting in the cafeteria, trying to picture my powdered eggs as eggs benedict, and Finn comes and plops down in front of me. He isn’t the type of guy that I would generally see myself with, if I were to do relationships, that is. Finn is huskier than nearly all of my clients, and though he’s 26, he still looks like a teenager. I fantasize that he is younger than I am when we fuck sometimes. Between that and his forceful nature, it’s no wonder I haven’t tired of him yet.
“Morning, beautiful,” he says to me as he picks up a lump of eggs from my plate and tosses it into his mouth, “how have you been? After you stormed out of the showers the other day, I haven’t seen you much.”
“Yeah, this week has been… interesting. That’s for sure.”
“How so?”
Though our relationship initially started as purely sexual, we’ve actually become close friends. Do I think that we would have the same connection with one another on the outside? Fuck no. But for now, it’s nice to have someone to talk to.
Finn ended up in here after trying to kill his college professor with an icepick for giving him an “F.” He suffers from mild schizophrenia and severe bipolar disorder. He’s a lifer; he’ll never see life outside of the grounds of The Serenity Institute ever again.
“I don’t know,” I shrug my shoulders, not wanting to go into details about my first week with Dr. Dick. “I got a new doctor, though. Bye, fucking bye Lewis!”
“No fucking way!” he’s as shocked as I was.
“I know, right? I never thought I would be rid of the bitch.”
“You want to go celebrate?” he w
ags his left eyebrow at me like he always does when he’s in the mood, and it’s like a trigger for my body to respond.
“Yeah, sure. Why not!” I push my tray out of the way. “Here, clean this up for me and meet me in the Bang Bin.”
“I’m right behind you.”
“You. Are. So. Fucking. Tight!” Finn shouts at me with each thrust.
“Don’t you dare fucking come yet, or I’ll punch your fucking lights out,” I threaten him, and he knows I’ll follow through with it.
“It’s been a whole week baby, you better hurry up.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!”
We’re in the janitor’s office, a room we’ve come to call “The Bang Bin.” It’s the number one place that we fuck because it’s secluded at the end of the hall on the east end of the second floor. There’s never any activity or commotion over here, so we don’t often get interrupted.
Finn has me bent over the metal desk next to the door, and he’s giving me everything he has, as usual. I can feel my body getting there, but this time I need something more.
“Choke me!”
“B,” he slows his thrusting a little, aggravating the shit out of me. “I don’t know after what happened last time.”
Last time I told him to choke me, a switch flipped inside of him, and he didn’t stop strangling me until I was near death. He was fucking me missionary, and he was using his hands around my neck as his leverage. It was fucking bliss until it wasn’t. I have to admit that I was scared, but the sex was terrific up until the point where I realized he wasn’t playing anymore.
“That was different. You were on top of me; it triggered you. You’re behind me this time.”
He begins moving faster again, and his hands move from my hips to my shoulders. Just before he places them around my neck, we hear a voice in the hallway.
“B?”
We usually don’t get interrupted, unless it’s by Danny.
“Fuck, Danny! Get the fuck out of here!” Finn shouts at him.
They’re jealous of one another and want me for themselves. But this is my game; I run the show.
“No! No!” I say and reach my hand to the doorknob, unlocking it. “Danny, come!”
“Fuck, B! It’s been a week, can’t it just be us this time?”
“It’s been a week, Finn! You want me to come faster, right?” I bat my eyelashes at him. “If so, Danny is joining us.”
“All of a sudden, I’m not fucking good enough for you…” he mutters under his breath.
I stand upright, as much as I can with his dick still buried deep inside of me, and I look at him over my shoulder.
“Don’t do that, Finn. You’re enough; you know that.” I place one hand on his cheek gently, and the anger melts from his face.
“Danny,” I say when I turn back around. I hold my hand out to him, and he takes it.
I pull him into the room, and he closes and locks the door behind him. Pulling down his pants and boxers in one motion, his cock springs free, bobbing up and down in front of my face. I capture it with my mouth, and his hands fist my hair immediately. He squeezes tight so that I can feel the burning sting just a little bit.
“B, I’m getting real close here,” Finn says.
I look up at Danny, my lips down around the base of his cock, and I roll my eyes, forcing a low chuckle to float out of his mouth.
“Not yet, Finn!” I say, releasing Danny’s cock.
“Yeah, not yet, Finn,” Danny says to him, roughly.
Before I know it, I’m being pushed to the side, my head hitting the corner of the metal desk. Finn lunges forward, attacking Danny and throwing him up against the wall near the door.
“FINN! Stop it!” I scream, but there’s no use.
Finn has Danny pegged to the wall, and he’s raining punches all over his body.
Fuck! This is all my fault! I throw my arms around Finn and try my hardest to pull his body away from Danny’s. It’s no use. He’s heavier than a ton of bricks.
I feel something on my forehead, and I wipe it away, only to see blood on my hand when I bring it back down to eye level.
Fuck, this is bad. What do I do?
I throw my clothes back on and rush up the corner stairwell to the third floor. I don’t know if Dr. Dick is in yet, and I don’t understand why he’s the one person who I think about to help, but I can’t think about all that right now. Just as I turn down the corridor where his office is, I smack right into what feels like a block of stone. It knocks me off balance a bit, or is that my head injury, but when I look up, I see it’s him.
“Jesus, Brynn!” he drops his bag to the ground and grabs my head between his hands. “What happened to you?”
His eyes are almost bugging out as he looks at the cut on my forehead. How bad is it?
“I’m fine! I need your help!”
I grab his hand, and we run back down the hallway, down the corner stairwell to the second floor. When we exit the stairwell into the hall, I see Finn and Danny rolling around on the floor with one another. Several patients are looming nearby, watching.
“Hey!” Dr. Dick runs over to them, and I am scared for him immediately.
He’s not going to be any match for Finn, but I am shocked at how easy it appears to be for him to rip Finn off of the floor. If I wasn’t terrified, I’d be wet right now.
“Get offa me!” Finn shouts.
“Stay over there!” Dr. Dick says to him, pushing him over to one side of the hallway.
I run over to Finn and try to keep him distracted so he won’t charge at Dr. Dick or Danny again.
“Finn, it’s alright!”
“Shut up, B! This is all your fucking fault!” he pushes me backward and walks off.
He’s never spoken to me like that, and I don’t like how it makes me feel. I didn’t cause this. Just because he is unbalanced and has an issue with sharing isn’t my fault at all! I tear my eyes from his retreating form and turn back to Danny and Dr. Dick.
Danny is bloody, but he’s not unconscious, thankfully. Dr. Dick picks him up off of the ground and places Danny’s arm around his shoulder to help him stay up. I move to the other side of Danny and mimic Dr. Dick’s stance.
“I’m taking him to the infirmary.” Dr. Dick says to a doctor that has arrived on the scene. I don’t know her, but I’ve seen her around before. “Can you please go get Dr. Sterling for me and let him know what happened?”
“Yes,” she responds before jogging ahead of us toward the main stairwell.
“Brynn, what happened?”
I can’t bring myself to tell him. I don’t know why I’m scared, but something is screaming inside of my body. Some part of me doesn’t want to disappoint him.
I shoot him a look, unsure of which emotion is playing across my face as I do so. He doesn’t press any further, but I know that he’s not happy. We walk Danny down the stairs carefully, and Dr. Sterling is waiting in the lobby for us when we get there. As soon as he sees me, he knows that I am the cause of this.
Fuck. I’m going to be in so much trouble.
Richard
“Brynn, I need details. What happened this morning?”
“Finn and Danny got into a fight,” Brynn says, casually as if we were shooting the shit over morning coffee.
“Do you know how hard I had to fight to keep Dr. Sterling from throwing you in isolation again? From trying to throw your ass back in prison!?”
I stare at Brynn from where I lean against the edge of my desk. She’s sitting cross-legged on the sofa across the room, just like she has every day for the past week. Since the day that I carried her in here, wrapped in a towel. Her exquisite body covered the black leather so beautifully. I couldn’t help but imagine what she would look like wearing the same material while tied to my spanking bench at home.
The cut on her head isn’t severe and only needed steri strips, thank goodness. The same can’t be said about the orderly that she helped me walk down to the infirmary.
�
��I’m only asking you one more time. What happened?”
“They got into a fight; I told you that.”
“Cut the shit, Brynn,” my glare is fixed on her as I stalk closer to the sofa.
She swallows nervously but doesn’t speak up.
“You and Finn have a connection. I know that. I’ve read all about your relationship with him in your file.” I stop when I am inches from the sofa, forcing her to look straight up into my face to see me.
She is eye level with my dick right now, and I can see her try not to look at it. I can see the wheels in her head, turning, thinking that she can reach out and touch it, and I will stop my tirade of questions.
But she’s dead wrong.
“Are you not telling me because you’re trying to protect Finn? Or are you trying to protect yourself?”
No answer.
“I read all about the time that he almost killed you.”
“But, he didn’t.”
“But he could have. You were in the infirmary for a week. You got lucky, and yet you still go back to him, knowing he has a short fuse and a penchant for violence.”
“Because he’s the only good dick in this place.”
I crouch down in front of her and take a deep breath.
“Brynn, you have a death wish. I’m not going to say that I don’t care about the orderly that he beat, because I do care, but the fact that you were there and it could have been you that he took his aggression out on…” my voice cuts off, and I honestly don’t know how to finish that sentence. I care for her. It’s crazy, and I know it’s only been a week since we met, but there is something within my broken soul that connects with hers.
I stand, needing to get away from her. Her pull is powerful, and I can’t afford to let my attraction get in the way of her therapy. My feet carry me across the room to my chair, and I lean over the back of it, resting my forearms across the top.
I know what she needs.
She needs me to bend her over the arm of this sofa and spank her ass raw.
No, it’s more than just that, more than the need to dominate and control her every move. She needs me to orchestrate the perfect scene for her. One where she can get the excitement and intrigue that she seeks, but in a space that is safe and healthy, where no one will get hurt. She needs me to, but I don’t want to push too much too soon.
