Jones sat on the side of the bed watching her with interested eyes. He was very pale, albino-looking, with gray stubble speckling his shaved head. He was surprisingly slight and short, perhaps 5’8” standing. At first, Jackie felt disappointed. Jones seemed entirely average, nothing special. Then their eyes locked and she gasped as fear zipped through her body. Strange lines shot through his hazel eyes making them look like cracked glass marbles. Something dominating, predatory, and completely unpredictable lurked in their depths. Jones truly looked insane. Jackie steadied herself, slid her professional smile like armuor over her face, and prepared for battle.
“Hello, Mr. Jones, my name is Dr. Thorpe. I’m a Psychoanalyst, and I’ll work with you over the next few weeks. I wish to better understand your unique needs in order to best help you. “
“Welcome to my humble abode, Jackie. I know who you are and exactly the nature of why you are truly here. I look forward to my complete exoneration. While you are “working with me” in order to “best help me” I will also be working with you in order to best help you. “
Jackie froze for a moment in shock. Jones called her Jackie. How did he know her first name? She hadn’t told him yet, so who had? Who informed him of her visit and its purpose? She gathered her wits, knowing she couldn’t retreat. She had to forge ahead and figure it out as she went along.
“Mr. Jones, I want us to form a working relationship based on respect. Please address me as Dr. Thorpe. I’ll continue to call you Mr. Jones. Mutual respect is one of my rules, another is complete honesty. As such, I’ll tell you I am here on behalf of the state to determine whether you belong at this facility. In return, I’d like to know who told you I was coming. “
“Establishing ground rules. Very nice! “ Jones’ cracked glass hazel eyes lit up with a lantern glow and he leaned forward on the bed. Heart thrumming with fear and eyes darting to the camera overhead, Jackie shrank back, certain Jones was about to launch off the bed and attack her. A flash of smug satisfaction flashed through Jones’ eyes as he remained composed on the bed, “I like ground rules. They provide a framework to accentuate and propagate the game. It is a two-way street, though. Since you want to base the relationship on respect there must be allowance for my own ground rules. Yours have nice potential, like an egg in a womb. I’ll fertilize your egg and we’ll see what grows. Each rule is like a gene. If rules are in disagreement the dominant gene will supersede the recessive one. What is a recessive gene if not a submissive one? Domination and submission exist in every level of creation from the atomic to the galactic. By the way, both my genes and my rules are, of course, dominant to your own. I’m sure you won’t mind given your nature. “
“Mr. Jones, as I said, I’ll treat you with respect but we are not equals, we have different roles. “
“I could not agree more, Jackie Rose. “
Jackie felt herself go pale with shock. How did he know her middle name? She struggled to maintain a calm pleasant expression. “I thought we agreed on titles and surnames, Mr. Jones. Please refer to me as Dr. Thorpe. “
“We agreed to nothing, other than that rules should exist. You suggested using titles and surnames as one of your ground rules. I have yet to present mine. Your other rule was that we would be completely honest at all times. I approve of that one. As for names, my rule is we call each other whatever we want. My name for you will likely change over the course of time as I get to know you better. I know my rule and yours are at odds but the solution is simple, my rules are dominant to your recessive, submissive ones. “
Wayne Jones watched her, his eyes as bright and alert as an owl’s on the hunt. She still felt bewilderment and panic that he knew her middle name. What other tidbits did he know about her? Though she tried to be stone-faced, she could tell the extremely perceptive Jones saw through her facade.
He had used her middle name as a drill to bore through her defences. This realization added anger and frustration to her unexpected cauldron of emotions. Blessed with a superior intellect and education, she typically possessed more knowledge than other people. Knowledge was power. When others had knowledge she didn’t, they held some degree of power over her. She hated that feeling.
“Mr. Jones, how do you know my middle name? “
“I’m psychic. “
Jones had an amused crinkle at the corners of his eyes. Jackie didn’t reply and stared at him with a calm, slightly bored expression, trying to wait the truth out of him.
“I am psychic,” Jones said. “My power, besides allowing me to know your middle name, also lets me see your innermost self. Your truest desires, ones you hide even from yourself. Should I tell you what they are? “
“Mr. Jones, I’m here to help you, to understand you. Let’s focus on that. “
“Of course, Jackie Rose, I do understand. It would be inappropriate, embarrassing even, for a psychoanalyst to get counselling from a patient. Sometimes the nature of the messenger is more important that the message. At least that’s how you feel now. As you learn you will change. Would you like me to come over there and teach you? “
Jackie sat at the small table a good distance from Jones’ bed. “You look comfortable, Mr. Jones. You can stay over there. “
Jones smiled tolerantly examining her body as thoroughly as she planned on examining his mind.
“Now, you were placed in this facility by judge’s order nearly six months ago. That was based on the recommendation of state appointed psychologists. They found you a risk to others and ill-equipped to fit in with society. For safety reasons they recommended admission until such time professionals deemed your mental state no longer a threat. I’m here to re-examine your mental state, assess progress, and to make recommendations. “
“I know, Jackie Rose. “
“Please don’t use that form of address, Mr. Jones. “
“Apparently you did not pay attention to the ground rules. I’ll name you as I see fit. You can always leave. Unlike me, you are free to go. I’m not. This room, and, to a lesser degree, this entire facility and everyone in it is part of my environment. You are now part of my environment. For the time being, I’ll call you Jackie Rose. Why do you find Jackie Rose so unwelcome? “
“It ignores my title and status. “
“Your title and status are still in question. Tell me, who last called you Jackie Rose? “
Jackie studied Jones for few moments. Obviously, she would have to tolerate his mannerisms to accomplish her mission. So who had called her Jackie Rose last? It had been years.
“My mother did, just before she died. “
“Tell me, did your mother treat you with respect? “
“Of course. “
“Then it is settled. I’ll call you Jackie Rose. It seems appropriate. If the woman from whose womb you slid out called you Jackie Rose it seems right the man who will slide his cock into your own womb should address you the same way. Of course you must first prove yourself to earn my cock. “
Jones’ words shocked Jackie into silence. His passive aggressive but eloquent conversation had almost lulled her into thinking him sane. Now she knew the man was truly mad and understood why he’d been committed. The only question now was whether Jones was actually dangerous. Unfortunately, this was now more than an academic or legal question. At this point, Jackie felt vulnerable to the man. He seemed guided purely by his own will without regard to social norms. For the first time in her professional capacity, she feared she was in danger!
Even as the thought developed, Jones levered himself off the bed and moved fluidly towards her. Jackie immediately put one hand on top of her head, palm flat against her tightly wound blond locks. Hotchkiss and Wilrey would be in the room in a few seconds, maybe ten, maybe fifteen.
When Jones reached her side, Jackie remained sitting in the chair, perfectly still to avoid provoking an attack. She estimated they wer
e around the same height and weight, but as a man, he would be far stronger. She wouldn’t have a chance if she fought him on her own. Thank God for the guards!
“Look, don’t do anything foolish. You won’t help your situation. I’m here to see if you’re dangerous. You attack me and you won’t be free again for a very long time, possibly never. “Jackie didn’t know how long she could stall Jones with talking. Where were those goddamn guards?
“Jackie Rose, fearing me is like fearing your destiny, your calling in life. Instead of fear, you should feel eagerness. I will teach you. You have no need for the protection you so desperately pray for, your false idols will not answer your prayers anyway. You could say I’ve used my powers to block their view of us. But I won’t touch you until you want it, until you beg me to. Politely, might I add. All in good time. You are indeed here to help me, more than you know, and in ways that are foreign to you now but will soon become the fabric of your existence. “
Jones stood over her another moment. “Jackie Rose, I will be free again and it will be thanks to your recommendation. I won’t be attacking you. I’m not an attacker. I never even did what I was accused of. They knew it. Fabricating a story was the only way for them to lock me up. I just give people what they need though they often don’t yet consciously acknowledge what they want at a deeper level, a level I can always see. I will not touch you until you’ve made me a free man. You see, that is another one of my ground rules. That one is personalized just for you. It does not apply to any other females I met or will meet here. “
Jones pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down, putting them at equal eye level and defusing her trepidation.
“Oh, well, thanks, Mr. Jones, for your special allowance to me. “ Jackie struggled a moment to extinguish her sarcasm. “I wanted to meet you today, but I still need to review your file in detail. Ms. Carter gave it to me and it is quite thick. I’ll be back in a couple days. “
“You do that, Jackie Rose. You’ll find lots of thought-provoking photos in the file and even some of my favourite personal tools. Look at every photo carefully. They should be quite enlightening. You want to know me? I understand my journals of personal thoughts are also in there. Remember what curiosity did to the cat? Curiosity can also enslave a pussy and make a mind slave to the pussy. Your pussy, your mind. “
Jackie realized the conversation was over. She wasn’t about to argue with him. There was no point. Jackie backed out of Jones’ room as he smiled at her, his eyes full of mad energies.
Still no guards Jackie thought in numb dismay. When she pulled her hand off the top of her head it left a damp patch.
Jackie was furious but kept her anger drowning below the surface as she stood on the other side of the guard desk. Jackie breathed through her mouth, wondering what the guards had been up to during her visit with Jones. The room smelled worse and Wilrey and Hotchkiss were even sweatier than before.
“Did you watch my meeting with Wayne Jones? “
“Wilrey did. Those are his monitors. “
Wilrey leaned forward. Both of them had their bellies pressed firmly up against the desk. “I watched you every second, Miss Thorpe. Your visit almost makes me wish I was a patient here. “
Jackie ignored his leer. Obviously, Wilrey hadn’t seen the hand on top of her head, the signal of possible danger. Probably too occupied with trying to see down her blouse. Thank God she dressed conservatively. There was also a chance he had seen the signal and chose to ignore it. Maybe he’d wanted Jones to attack her to take her down a notch. A man like him had no respect for women. Jackie knew a woman like herself – confident and well-educated – would threaten Wilrey’s perception of women’s role in society. He was a caveman without the hairiness and with a lot of extra fat.
“Why do you ask, Miss Thorpe? “ Hotchkiss asked deferentially.
“No reason, just checking. Thanks, guys. “
Jackie realized it would do no good to make an issue of it. Nothing bad happened and she didn’t want to show any weakness to confirm Wilrey’s view of women. She planned to ask Hotchkiss to watch over her next time.
She walked to the exit a few feet away, highly aware of Wilrey’s creepy crawly eyes scurrying up and down her body. She heard sucking slurps like a fat lollipop pulled from a mouth and then sucked back in. She turned at the door to give a falsely friendly wave goodbye expecting to see Wilrey had been popping his finger out of the corner of his mouth just to harass her. But both guards sat quietly with their hands below the desk, their sweaty faces placid.
Chapter 6
After five days of imprisonment, Becca was piecing together how the world worked under Jones’ rule in the maximum security ward. The information gathering process was slow going, as she was still stuck in Lilly’s locked suite Becca’s only information was from random comments and glimpses through the door’s window of people walking by in the ward hallway and from Lilly. Lilly’s information could hardly be trusted. She was one of “them” as Becca had come to think of Jones’ followers.
Becca learned though “they” gave Jones the respect usually reserved for a revered prophet, they weren’t a cult, but more than a club. It was all more like a powerful lifestyle choice – like Amish refusing to use electricity – with Jones as the guru. They were united by a commonly held addiction.
Becca learned that once Jones arrived at the centre, combinations of bribes, seductions, and Jones own mind-clouding words led to the enlistment of the male staff as his henchmen and to submission of the female staff. Jones himself declared all actual patients completely off limits. To them everything continued as normal.
Jones tasked the staff to provide false papers and room accommodations for an unknown number of Jones’ female groupies and male followers. The guards and male followers enforced Jones’ will. The females served the men sexually and in simple manual tasks like cleaning. There were two dominant-type ugly women who heaped lesbian abuse on the subjugated women. The attractive nurses were all enslaved to Jones, and, by extension, to the guards and the two dominatrix’s who used to be their friends and co-workers. Becca marvelled that they had somehow managed to enslave all the attractive ones.
The nurses that were not considered attractive and had no dominant nature to tap into were forced out. Early retirements were offered. Systematic unfair treatment caused some to resign. Arranged transfers to other buildings were the main method. The transfers out were often replaced with transfers in of unsuspecting attractive nurses from other wards.
Others were replaced by new hires who were Wayne Jones converts from the outset. All of them pretty to beautiful and willing to do anything for Jones. Willing to suffer or allow anything in his name no matter how contrary to their best interests.
Becca had previously been kept out of this area due to her inexperience and great beauty. She hadn’t had the opportunity then to pick up on the unusual staff turnover or high ratio of beautiful women in the suites and servicing the suites. They could take this group of women and match up evenly with the contestants in a beauty pageant.
Becca didn’t know how this worked yet. She was stuck in the locked suite and she had been there for five days. Her only information was from random comments and glimpses through the door window towards people walking by in the ward hallway and from Lilly/Doll. Lilly could hardly be trusted. She was one of “them” as Becca had come to think of… them. Jones’ followers.
Becca spent her time trapped in the suite trying to analyze “them”, trying to analyze her own reactions, and trying to get away. She also often wondered why no one had come to save her yet.
Life in this room was 90% boredom and 10%. . . things she’d rather avoid remembering. In a lot of ways the boredom was worse than the other 10%. Sometimes she caught herself looking forward to the other 10% just to relieve the boredom, she was certain.
Every few minutes, Becca glanced out the litt
le window in the suite door. It was late afternoon and soon another night of hard sex would begin. Earlier in the day she spotted a beautiful bronze-haired woman who strode down the hallway with far too much confidence for a subjugated woman. Was she a dominatrix? She considered banging on the door, but was too afraid of more punishment and abuse. Only after it was too late did she realize the woman’s conservative suit precluded her from being one of them. If only she’d realized it in time!
“What are you thinking about, Pretty Toy? “
Becca hadn’t noticed Lilly creeping up on her. Not only because she was lost in contemplation but also because Lilly had literally crawled on her hands and knees over to the side of Becca’s bed and was peering over the mattress like a shelf troll.
“Nothing. Stay away from me. “
Lilly leaped onto the bed, straddled Becca’s waist, and ripped off Becca’s gown. Becca didn’t bother struggling though she gave a convincing flinch. Lilly always got her way sexually with Becca, and Becca was tired of fighting for a lost cause.
“Pretty Toy, I’ll give you a choice. Would you rather bare your private thoughts or lick this bared private part? “Lilly vigorously rubbed her bare pussy against Becca’s breast, as if she hoped the nipple would penetrate her pussy.
Becca knew she would end up licking pussy one way or another but figured chatting Lilly up could garner useful information. “I’m curious about the dominants and the submissives. That relationship. “
“What input does Pretty Toy require? “
“I can understand why the dominants do what they do. But I don’t understand the submissives. “
“You don’t understand yourself? How pathetic. “Lilly humped her hot pussy against Becca’s nipple and giggled.
Subduing Jacqueline Page 8
