1 comments/ 27793 views/ 12 favorites The Asylum By: lil_one89 Kay Winters Hello? Kay Winters? A demanding female voice shocked me out of my thoughts, forcing me to come to terms with the fact that I was admitted to a mental institution by my truly crazy mother. So I threw a lamp at her, so what? That just means I have authority issues, not that I am insane. The nurse that admitted me was hard-faced but pudgy, looking like she had had a very hard life. The fingerprinting left me feelings like a prisoner, leaving a black residue on my thumb. I was led down the blindingly white corridors, closed door after closed door, until we reached the end of the hallway. The only open door lead to a big room with floor to ceiling bookcases. I was blinded by the magnificence of the completely full cases, mostly including medical journals, but a few looked older, possibly used more than the makers intended. I hadn't noticed that I had stopped, until I felt that familiar prickling of somebody watching me. My eyes trailed down to the desk in the middle of the room, and landed straight on the eyes of a man sitting behind it. He looked to be in his mid- to late-thirties, with short light brown hair wearing a grey suit and a white lab coat. His eyes kept me in a trance until the nurse rushed in front of me and closed the door, uttering an apology to the man. The nurse led me to a bathroom where I stripped down and showered in front of her, completely unashamed of my nudity. Once I was done, she gave me a small pair of white underwear and a light blue starchy gown. I was then led back down the white hallways, past the now closed door of the room with the man, and into a room that included one metal bed, a small nightstand, and a metal-barred window. I was surprised to find I would be alone in the blank room; possibly a small gesture of kindness requested by my mother. "Lights out in 20 minutes." the nurse stated, quickly shutting the door behind me. My small bed had a pair of folded white sheets and a scratchy green blanket on top, so I used my time to make my bed neatly before the lights shut off and I was forced to sleep. But my night wasn't restful. I was suddenly waking to a feeling of pain in my shoulders and wrists. My groggy eyes opened to find that I was upright, bound by my wrists above me by thick white leather cuffs. Looking down, I found that I was almost completely naked, only covered by the small white pair of underwear the nurse had given me. I could stand barely on the balls on my feet to alleviate the pressure on my wrist and shoulders, but only in short spurts. I couldn't tell where I was but a musky smell made me instantly think a basement. The space around me was dark, a small dim light above only lighting up the area around me. I instantly started hyperventilating. Where was I? Why was I here? Why was I naked? Was I going to be killed? Chopped up into tiny pieces? I struggled against the cuffs, trying to contort my hands to slip out of them, but they were too tight to wiggle free of. I tried to reach to the carabiner that was hooked onto the cuffs to try and unhook myself, but I couldn't get enough slack. I heard a rustling in the darkness and I froze, searching the darkness for the source. I envisioned a hungry tiger leaping from the darkness and devouring my helpless body, and I started to tremble. A tall figure emerged from the darkness and I wasn't sure whether I should be relieved or terrified. The figure slowly became more illuminated as it got closer, revealing that it was actually the doctor from the room with all the bookcases. I stared at him with wide eyes, obvious fear showing on my face. Somehow I willed myself to speak. "W-Why am I here?" My voice sounded shaky but understandable. He didn't answer at first. He circled around me, observing my naked form, making me feel like a piece of meat. My small breasts were completely exposed, the expanse of my slightly rounded stomach stretched from gravity. I felt exposed and vulnerable. And the worst part, was that I liked it. I felt more terrified than I ever had, but the fear fed adrenaline that turned me on beyond compare. When the doctor ended back in front of me, his eyes raised back to mine, catching me in that trance once again, completely unable to look away. "You are here for my enjoyment." For his enjoyment? What does that mean? Is he going to carve me up for his sick pleasure? I started panicking again and did the first thing that came to mind. I screamed. "HELP!!!!!! SOMEBODY HEL-" The doctor's hand clasped tightly around my mouth, cutting off my pleading. His eyes pierced mine and I could tell he was angry. I had fucked up. He fiddled with something with his left hand, and a moment later a gag was fastened around my head, cutting off any attempt at screaming. "MMMMPHHH!" I tried to scream through the gag but it wasn't loud enough. His hands were on my body, feeling my curves, leaving nowhere untouched, even dipping down between my legs. I tried to swing away, but he shoved me back against his hard body. My nipples were pinched between his fingers roughly, and I felt myself becoming wetter. My pleading became moans, my body betraying me. Then his hands were gone, leaving a faded memory of the pain. I could hear a faint rustling. Then a quick rush of air right next to my face, sounding a short snapping sound. Then on the other side. My heartbeat began to race and my back suddenly exploded in pain as a flogger landed along my spine, sending stinging pain everywhere. I screamed through the gag. And then the scream ended in a moan. "Hmm. You are liking this more than I thought. I may have to step it up a bit." His voice had a threatening tone that left me both scared and insanely turned on. The next lash of the flogger hit with the same sting, but not as shocking as the first. Hit after hit came, wracking screams from my body, hitting harder and harder. He moved from my back down to my butt, then down to my overly sensitive thighs. Pain became blurred with pleasure. Then suddenly the pain was gone. I wasn't sure how long it had been when I became aware of the silence. Is he gone? Is he done with me already? "I'm not done with you yet." A dark whisper in my ear sent a shiver down my spine. A hard cold paddle hit my right butt cheek, forcing me forward, and a shrill scream left my throat. It hit with such force that it almost hit the limit of where pain met pleasure. It was overwhelming. Too much. I kicked instinctively, struggling against the bindings, tears falling from my eyes. Another strike hit my left side and the pain blinded me. I tried to catch my breath but I couldn't get enough oxygen. The force behind the strikes had me feeling abused, and it had only been two. I wondered how much more I could take before passing out. Then pure pleasure hit my body as fingers rubbed my overly sensitive clit through my underwear, causing me to buck back against him, feeling an obviously hard cock through his pants. I moaned through the gag and I could hear his breathing against my ear. "You are a bad, bad girl. You are getting so turned on by being abused." His breathing sounded labored, whether from the beating or lust I couldn't tell. He bucked his groin into my butt once before forcefully pushing from me. Then the pain again. Another cold hit from the paddle on the right, followed quickly on the left, leaving my entire bottom screaming my pain, lingering for what seemed like forever. Tears now streamed down my face. I felt on the verge of passing out, but also turned on the point of no return. Then my back was on fire again, the flogger biting into my sensitive skin. My back arched away from him, throwing my weight again on my shoulders and wrists, exemplifying the pain in my back. The flogger hit hard, followed by a small period of soft thuds, then sharp stinging falls. I lost track of how many times he hit painfully, it all blurred into pain and pleasure, and I thought I was going to lose my mind. And then I was being lowered, my legs buckling underneath me, my body feeling completely limp. I was unhooked from the ceiling, the cuffs still holding my wrists together. Then I was being carried into the darkness and laid on a soft mattress on my stomach. I thought it was over, maybe then I could sleep and be gone from the torture. But I was wrong. Pin pricks rolled all over my back, leaving a trail of stinging pain. It felt like needles were being forced into my skin over and over again. I screamed through the gag and tried to be as still as possible. The pricks trailed around my back and down to my abused butt, pain traveling down my spine. Sometimes it was slow, then a quick hard roll would leave me breathless. The pain was delicious but overwhelming at the same times. I couldn't feel any blood so I knew it was only on my skin, but it felt like at any moment he could pierce my skin. The pain had me writhing from side to side on the bed, then it was gone, replaced his strong hands on my hips, forcing my thing underwear off me. I felt completely vulnerable, unable to fight him, even if I currently didn't want to. He thrust his hips against my butt and I could once again feel his erection through his pants and heard a masculine groan leave him. Then he was gone again. The sound of clothing rustling and a quick tear of a wrapper could be heard. And then he was back. His hard cock pressing against my dripping pussy. He pressed hard and quick into me and a ragged scream tore from my throat. He didn't feel overly long, but it was wide, and the quick intrusion caused pain and pleasure to mix in a blinding whirlwind of sensation. He was never soft, never sensual. It was very apparent what he wanted from my body. He wanted to own it, dominate it, abuse it, fuck it. I was nothing but his toy to do with as he pleased. His groans matched my screams, and the harder he got the more my pussy clenched around him. I was on the brink of an orgasm when he suddenly pulled out, only to thrust back in hard, wracking my body with an orgasm unlike anything I'd ever felt before. I felt like I was unwinding and a guttural moan left me. But he didn't stop, or even slow down. He sped up, continuing to fuck me hard, his hips slapping against my sensitive butt. And then he pulled out and shoved me on my back, knocking the wind out of me. He thrust into me again and suddenly his hands were wrapped around my neck. And that's when I freaked out. I tried to push his hands off me when the cuffs, but he held on firmly and I could feel myself suddenly becoming weak. Then I had control over my limbs, and my vision started to tunnel black. I didn't know how long I had passed out until I suddenly came back again, and a rush of pleasure wracked my body. I looked up at him with lust beyond compare and begged him through the gag. I begged him to fuck me harder. He knew what I was saying even though it was intelligible, and I got the hardest fucking of my life. And the orgasm that followed was mind-blowing and long, causing him to orgasm as well. His groans were long and loud, and I could feel him cock pulsating inside me. And then we both collapsed into a puddle on the bed, spent from our orgasms. The last thing I remembered was my vision going black as I once again passed out, this time from utter exhaustion. And then I woke up in my bed, in the institution. I thought maybe it was a dream. But dreams don't leave marks. The Asylum Ch. 01 My name is Kay Winters. I was born on August 20th 1991. And apparently I'm crazy. But that's not the whole story. The cold grey building loomed over me like a dark omen as I was led into St. Joseph's Mental Institution on a warm, humid night in October. The huge barred windows stared at me judgingly, and I wanted so much to run the opposite direction. If it hadn't been for the orderly's strong grip on my bicep keeping me moving forward. We moved through the heavy metal front doors and instantly the world was bright white. The halogen lamps ahead cast a harsh white light everywhere, bouncing off the equally luminescent white walls and floor. The only color was the odd looking blue counter where multiple nurses were sifting through patient files. The dull tapping on computer keyboards nearly lulled me to sleep. "Winters. Kay Winters." A pudgy nurse who looked to be in her mid-forties stared at me impatiently. My first reaction was wanting to spit in her face. I didn't belong in a nut house, and I hated that this woman was judging me based on a folder of paper sent to her by a horny judge. But the fact of the matter was, I was locked up, and the only way to get out was to play the game. "Yes." I nodded at her slightly, and the orderly's grip loosened. "Follow me." The nurse turned on her heel and began strutting down the corridor to my right. I followed, like a good little dog. "This will be your home for the next 6 months. You are expected to take your medication every day and obey all rules set forth by the institution." While the nurse droned on about hospital rules, I took the opportunity to survey my surroundings. Most of the doors were closed, but the occasional room would be open, usually showing empty. Until we reached the door at the end of the hallway. I was shocked when I looked inside and immediately stopped dead in my tracks. The room contained a huge wooden desk, a couple chairs in front, but the walls were completely covered in shelves filled with books up to the ceiling. My eyes started on the shelves but immediately shot to behind the desk when I sensed somebody watching me. Behind the desk sat a man, looking to be in his mid- to late-thirties, with a grey suit and white lab coat. He looked to be an average build, handsome man, but it wasn't his looks that caught me in a trance. It was his eyes. His eyes seemed to trap me in a way I had never before experienced. I felt uncomfortable, as if all my secrets lay bare in front of him and I couldn't hide them. Then I was free, the nurse quickly shooting in front of me and closing the door, muttering an apology to the man at the desk. Once closed, she shot the orderly a quick glare and I felt a grip once again on my arm, tighter than ever, forcing me to nearly jog down the hall. We finally stopped at another doorway as the nurse was entering into what looked to be a large sterile bathroom. The orderly let go of my arm and nudged me into the room, and I didn't fight it. The door shut closed behind me and I was left alone with the now irritate nurse. "Take off all your clothes and put them in this bag." She handed me a thick plastic bag and I started undressing. I had never been shy about being naked, regardless of whether I felt I was a bit less toned than I should be. Once all the clothes were in the bag, I threw the bag roughly to her feet, causing a glare, which I quickly shrugged off. The cold water of the shower quickly changed my tired, don't-give-a-fuck attitude to alert and wide-eyed. The nurse handed me a pair of white cloth underwear and dull blue starchy dress that fell down to my knees and was the opposite of fitted. I felt like a toddler in their dad's t-shirt. My long red hair fell limply down the back, leaving a wet trail on the dress and my pale skin looked washed out. I'm sure my bitch mother would have told me it "wasn't my color". That's if she took any interest in me at all. Once again I was led down the bright corridor with a bruising grip on my arm to a door with a big 23 on the door. Home Sweet Home. The room was dull and white, the bed being your typical metal-painted-white frame with a thin mattress and a folded white blanket that looked scratchy and cheap. The nurse closed the door as soon as I stepped in, informing me that it would be lights out in 20 minutes. The bed creaked when I sat on it, easily feeling the springs in the mattress. I was surprised when I found that there wasn't any other beds in the room, and wondered if it was at the request of my mother or if they thought I was too dangerous to put with another human being. I laughed at the second idea. At my sentencing, the judge told me I was a danger to society and needed to be monitored for homicidal tendencies. I wasn't sure how throwing a lamp at my crazy mother made me homicidal, or insane, but you can't exactly object to a judge. I wasn't wanting to kill my mother on the night of our fight. I just wanted her to get out of my face for once. I wanted to get away from her mood swings and constant demands that I be a plastic Barbie doll and marry a rich geezer like her. She also never liked me to talk about my visions, mostly because she wanted me to be normal, but also because it scared her. I was a relatively easy kid to live with growing up. I wanted the approval of my parents, and I loved my father more than life itself. When he died in a fatal car crash, my life fell apart completely, which caused me to cope in self-destructive ways. I started to drink, being the tender age of 16, which lead to light drugs. At 23, after rehab, I changed and made sure that I would never go back to that place, but my mother never forgot. She remarried to a rich 60 year old businessman who was never around and stopped paying attention to me unless I did something wrong. I went to college and tried to stay as clean as possible, but the visions still wracked me at night and she insisted that I was crazy because of it. That night she had had enough, and when I woke up screaming, she came into my room and told me she was going to have me committed to a mental institution. I told her she was a crazy bitch that is going to die in a fire (a vision of mine from 4 years earlier) and threw my bedside lamp at her direction, which shattered against the wall. That night I was dragged to jail, with my mother fake crying to get attention from the police officer. The lights abruptly shutting off brought me back to the present and I laid down on the bed, hesitantly covering myself with the scratchy fabric. Then I saw something. In the corner of my room, near the ceiling, a faint red blinking light. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I was able to make out a small circular shape, the shape of a lens. Oh great, the get to watch me sleep. I thought. I decided to just ignore it and rolled over to face the wall, away from the direction of the camera. It surprisingly didn't take long for me to fall asleep. I was in a dark room that smelled like stale water and rot. It looked like it was underground, the walls made of either brick or earth. The mattress I was lying on was stained and smelled like mold. There was a door to my right and I immediately ran to try and open it, only to find it locked. But there was a hole in one side by the lock, clearly rotting away. I peeked through it but couldn't see much. It looked like it was outside, faintly being able to make out possibly some stars. My first thought was that maybe if I got outside, I could find out where I was and get back home. My first attempt to ram the door met with pain straight to my shoulder, causing me to cry out in pain. For my second try, I backed up all the way to the far wall of the room and ran straight for the door. But at the last second, the door opened and I ran straight into something equally hard, but not wooden. Flesh. I fell to the floor on my butt and winced from the pain. When I looked up, the shadow of a tall man blocked the doorway. He reached down to grab me and I instantly started fighting. I felt him on top of me, not hurting me, but pushing me to the ground. I flailed my arms and tried to hit him, to push him off me. My legs were caught and somehow bound to the floor, but I still tried to knee him. Then my arms were being held down, but not by him. Suddenly the man wasn't on me, but instead I was in my bed at the asylum, and I was fighting 3 male orderlies trying to bind me to my bed. I still fought them, even after realizing I was having a nightmare. I didn't want to be touched. I wanted to be left alone. "Get off me asshole!" I screamed at the man holding down my arms and spit in his face. Then I felt a slight prick in my left arm and the hands were suddenly gone. I looked up to find the man from the room with all the books. The man with that demanding stare looking into my eyes and I felt myself losing control of my limbs and my vision faded to black.