Chapter 5
Andrew
“What the fuck was that?” James peers up between her thighs, his brow pinched in confusion.
I glance between Jane Doe and James, debating whether or not I should reward his stupidity with an answer. Sighing, I shift, getting off the bed and laying her flat. I turn her face towards me, just in case. I don’t need her choking on her own spit.
“Did you forget in what capacity I was hired? It’s called hypnosis. Normally I have a whole slew of ways to induce it, but her hysteria was just way too much. I don’t need her fracturing her mind even more, and I don’t feel comfortable with a sedative. Not until we know more about what they pumped into her.”
James looks at me as if I’ve grown two heads. In his defense, he’s never seen me in action. Our sessions, much like the other members of The Society, consist of talking about his mother and the supposed trauma she caused him to make him like hurting others. There’s nothing wrong with his mother, and there’s nothing wrong with him. Out of courtesy to my profession, I have to ask these questions, even if I personally don’t give them much credence. He’s just a sadistic bastard, much like the rest of us - like finding like.
Now though, I’ve tipped my hand, showing him that I’m nothing like the rest of the members. I’m a different breed of sadist. I fuck with the mind as well as the body in a way that none of them can touch, and rightfully so. I would probably put in a recommendation to not allow someone in with similar skills as mine. It’s too dangerous. I know how to control myself, but I don’t know anyone else to have the same rigorous mental discipline as I do.
“How long is she going to be out for?”
“As long as I tell her too.”
“Do - do you do this with all your women?”
I don’t know whether to be insulted or find this hilarious. The good doctor is so far out of his depth, and it shows. Should I fuck with him a bit? Tell him that I put all my women in a trance before I fuck them? Probably not. The man doesn’t seem to be the type to take a joke where patients are concerned.
“No one has ever come to me in this state of hysteria. I didn’t even use it on Chelsea. No doubt her mind is strong enough that she would have fought it. Jane Doe, on the other hand, is weak, vulnerable. Her mind didn’t stand a chance against me. She’s so broken that one bit of suggestion would have her drooling in a puddle of her own ineptitude. But I’m not going to do that. I don’t break my women like this.”
He nods, obviously satisfied with my defense. Not that it matters. John can’t get rid of me, even if he wanted to. I’m too valuable to him. I’m the only line of defense between his precious submissives and real monsters - not just the ones who play at it for effect. Glancing down at Jane Doe, I slide my fingers across her cheek, noting the soft whimpers that escape her throat.
I’ve given her enough of a reprieve. I don’t want her to become dependent on these bouts of unconsciousness. She needs to learn to deal with her trauma without relying on aids - a feat that will be hard enough as we wean her off of this drug.
“When I snap my fingers, you’re going to wake up. Remember, you are safe. You do not need to panic. I will not harm you.”
With a snap, her eyes flutter open, confusion lining her gaze.
“You’re not him.” Her words are tremulous, wavering with every breath, but she still says them, still confronts me, no matter how minor. A kernel of pride blossoms in my chest. There’s probably hope for her after all, then.
“I cannot fathom who you’re speaking of, but I’m pretty sure no, I’m not him.”
“Just fuck me then and get it over with.” She sighs as she closes her eyes. So resigned to her fate.
I wish I could tell her I wasn’t going to fuck her. It won’t be today, and it might not be for several weeks or months, but there will come a time when I’ll bend her to my will. I’ll feast upon her insanity while feeding my own. Already she’s like a drug in my system, burning me from deep within. I want to walk away. I want to be the good man she’s begging for, that she’s needing. But I won’t be that man.
I might not fuck her, but I’ll still make her mine. Her body will learn my touch in a much more intimate manner. She won’t be safe from me. Not even for a moment. She doesn’t know that. Not yet. Right now, she’s just worried about my dick slamming into her without thought of her own pleasure. She doesn’t know that she needs to fear how insidious my touch and voice will be to her, how she’ll wake up every morning craving me, and only me, until one day I’ll tire of her, and she’ll become someone else’s toy. Just another broken doll, just not physically this time.
“I’m not going to fuck you.”
“Then must I wear this?”
I look down at her slight form, disappointed she wants out of the jacket so quickly. I do enjoy seeing her bound, no matter the medium. “Will you struggle and fight me?”
The fear comes back into her eyes as they dart about again. “Are you going to hurt me?”
“Not on purpose.” Not now, anyway.
“Then I’ll try not to struggle.”
“Remember you said that in a moment. I won’t hesitate to put you back into this. What we’re doing is for your own good, and if that means I have to strap you down, so be it.”
Jane Doe widens her eyes and thrashes her head back and forth. Interesting. She’s more afraid of being restrained than anything else we might do to her. I file that away for later. As much as I want to see her in my ropes, I may have to work with her a bit more before we get there. No doubt she was forcibly held down while those men did who knows what to her. Not surprising she’d have a visceral reaction to the idea of being bound.
I move to sit her up, and her body bows against me, a shout of agony punching the air in a loud squawk.
“Please. It hurts. Please.”
Looking at James, I watch as he rummages about in his bag. “This isn’t a narcotic, so don’t even think of acting like you’re getting addicted to it,” he murmurs, sticking the needle into a vial and pulling back on the syringe. “This is a muscle relaxer. You’ve been moving around, but it’s not been nearly as much movement as you need. That, and you’re coming down off a drug that you’ve been under for some unknown time.”
He gathers a few more vials and walks them all over to the IV bag. As he puts the muscle relaxer in, I watch in fascination as it travels down the tube and into her arm.
“I’m also giving her Clonidine and Xanax. You’ll need to be meticulous in how you deliver these. I don’t want her coming off something only to get addicted to something else.”
I scoff as I watch him one by one deliver the drugs with a few minutes in between each dose. “I’ll remind you that I’m also a doctor in my own right. I know how to administer drugs.”
“You’re a shrink. You’re not a real doctor.”
A smirk slides up my lips as I stare him down. “Do you want to compare medical degrees? I’ll whip mine out if you do yours. Tell me, did you just want to settle for being a general practitioner? No desire to elevate yourself and specialize in something meaningful?”
“I get a lot of meaning and satisfaction dealing with the general public.”
“Sure you do. Remember that when you’re going to sleep tonight. You’re okay settling for mediocrity.”
A soft groan cuts into our pissing match, and I look down to see Jane Doe struggling to get up. Sliding a hand behind her, I push her forward, practically bending her in half. It’s at that moment she sees where her feet are.
She twists and turns in my arms, attempting to dislodge herself, but she's at a tremendous disadvantage. I wrap my arms around her, gripping my wrist in front and pulling her back against me. Holding her tight, I take in deep breaths, enticing her to match my speed and depth. I can’t have her passing out again, not unless I compel her to sleep.
“Breathe with me. It’s okay. I’m right here.” I keep my voice soft and soothing, slow, melodic. It takes several painstaking moments, but she finally matches my breathing. “That’s a good girl. There’s a lot of stuff happening right now, and if you start to freak out, I need you to breathe. In and out. Just like we’re doing right now. I’m going to be here the entire time, okay?”