Subduing Jacqueline

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Subduing Jacqueline Page 7

by Jordan Church


  Wendy’s calm professional response made Jackie regret her outburst. She shouldn’t have let a stranger ruffle her like that.

  Jackie got verbal directions from Wendy to the maximum security ward, thanked her with whatever grace she could muster, and left her office. The tattooed and pierced secretary had a frown on her face very different from her earlier smile.

  Jackie retrieved the portfolio. The large cardboard box contained heavy objects that shifted and scraped when she lifted it. Jackie made a point to make introductions and shake the secretary’s hand. So many people treated each other unequally just because of status or lack of status in the workplace. So superficial! Jackie felt that everyone should be treated as equals who fulfil different functions in life. She’d found this attitude won her a lot of friends among “the little people”.

  The young woman resumed her sunshine of a smile, “Oh, thank you, I’m Anni spelled A-N-N-I. If you get lost or have any questions just pick up the nearest wall phone and dial *-3-6. That’s for this. “

  As Anni pointed at her desk phone, the fluorescent light gleamed off her nose ring, the tiny diamond in it acting as a prism for the light. Jackie wondered why people pierced themselves in non-traditional, publicly visible locations, branding themselves as freaks and depending on piercings to differentiate themselves from others.

  Anni’s sweet smile twisted into a lascivious smirk as she continued, “I tried to get *-6-9 but they wouldn’t give it to me. But you can call me anytime for anything. Any number of things. “

  “Ah, sure, Anni, thanks for your helpfulness. Have a nice day. “

  As Jackie struggled to tote the box out of the office as quickly as possible to escape Anni’s lusty little eyes, Anni still spoke in a rush, “Call me anytime. I’ll do whatever I can to help you. Any way you want. I might not know the answer because I’ve only been here about five months but I’m willing to do anything. “

  Upon Jackie’s departure, Wendy leaned her fine leather chair back and closed her eyes, daydreaming the meeting between Jackie and Mr. Jones. She hoped Jackie would captivate Mr. Jones. She’d attempted to make Jackie particularly intriguing to him by firing her up and triggering her defences. Mr. Jones always enjoyed challenges.

  Wendy cared for all the patients at Goethner-Varner like she was a big sister to them. But Jones was different. His happiness now determined Wendy’s happiness. It didn’t make any sense and it was wrong but it was also true. She knew the exact day of her transformation, August 18th, four weeks after Wayne Jones’ incarceration. It was the day Jones sprayed his come on her face, baptizing her into a new path of addictive sin, abuse, and capitulation.

  Wendy glanced at her desk planner, still open to the week of August 18. Up until that day, she maintained the planner in precise organized detail. But since August 18, there were no additional entries, not a single pen stroke. Wendy perpetually lived in the current moment, forming no plans for the future.

  If she’d been sick and stayed home August 18th, she might still be “old Wendy” instead of “new Wendy”. New Wendy would do anything to please Jones. New Wendy sent trusting young ladies like Becca into his clutches. Wendy hated the new Wendy. New Wendy disgusted and shamed her. But the things new Wendy did, felt, and had done to her enthralled her in forbidden delights. In the end Wendy knew that how she felt and what she wanted didn’t matter. Jones morphed her into his creation, and she would exist to be whom and what he wanted for as long as he wanted.

  The ball of Wendy’s palm pushed at the tight skirt material stretched over her crotch, massaging her needy pussy in order to quench its thirst for sensation. Instead of quenching her pussy thirst, the indirect contact only watered the growth of lust. She closed her eyes and imagined Jackie’s showdown with Jones, picturing Jones spraying his come all over Jackie’s face. She felt disgusted with herself because she envied Jackie and longed to be baptized in Jones’ come once again.

  “You stupid slut! “ The air-tearing sound of a whip in rapid motion accompanied the woman’s harsh voice. The stroke ripped through her blouse and bra and made vicious, stinging contact with the upper slopes of Wendy’s breasts.

  Wendy sucked in a trembling breath and tightened her closed eyes further. She had no need to open them, she already knew what they would see. She made no change in her position even allowing the ball of the palm of her hand to continue in its hopeless venture to satisfy her pussy. She felt the chair and her body pulled away from the desk and spun so she faced the whip wielder. The whip screamed through the air again this time slashing the masturbating hand and catching her forearm and one skirt-covered thigh. Her burning hand froze its movement but, contradictorily, the flames in her pussy rose higher.

  “You dumbass piece of shit! “

  The owner of the voice grabbed the wrist of her burning hand and jerked her out of the chair to sprawl awkwardly on the carpeted floor. The whip sang again, laying a line of fire across her back. The angry whip wielder stepped two feet to the right and the whip scored another burning line, combining with the first to form an X on Wendy’s back. Wendy sobbed with pain and unexplainable depraved emotions. The whip wielder took three more steps, seconds later three consecutive whip slashes paralleled across Wendy’s buttocks.

  Wendy emitted a long and tortured groan, her face sinking to the floor. Her arms collapsed under her and her chest pressed into the plush carpet. This movement made her rear rise higher, stretching her tender ass flesh tauter. As the whip lashed her three more times, she couldn’t decide if this position made it better or worse.

  Although her back and ass were raging infernos of pain, her pussy was hotter now, much hotter, and her rock hard nipples poked into the plush carpet.

  “What the hell is wrong with you, Dummy? “

  Four more steps and the abuser was behind Wendy. Wendy knew what was about to happen but did nothing to stop it. It was fate and, more importantly, it was Jones’ will working through the body of another. It was meant to be.

  The nose of a high-heeled ladies shoe blasted unerringly and perfectly into the centre of Wendy’s pussy, causing her to rise up several inches. The stretched skirt protected Wendy from some of the kick’s force, but it still triggered contradictory blasts of intolerable pain and addictive pleasure. Wendy had grown to hate-love the intense formula of pleasure and pain, dreading and treasuring it simultaneously. Wendy had long since given up trying to understand it. She’d also given up trying to avoid it.

  “Answer me, Dummy! Why’d you get that sexy bitch all on guard? What the fuck? “

  “I did it for Mr. Jones. “

  “Bull. He told you to be sweet and welcoming, to lull her into relaxing her guard. You did the fucking opposite. I heard every word over the intercom, Dummy. “

  Wendy peered up and behind at Anni through her tears from the pain and insidious pleasure, “Mr. Jones, I know he likes a challenge. I just want to make him happy. I thought if I…”

  Anni planted the V-shaped tip of her pink high-heeled shoe into Wendy’s pussy and pushed it as deep as her slim short leg could drive it into Wendy’s groin. That effectively cut off Wendy’s words as she groaned and wailed like a lost soul.

  “Dummy, the reason you’re called Dummy is because you think you’re so smart you do what you think is smart and that’s dumb because sometimes your smart ideas don’t agree with what’s on Mr. Jones’ mind. That makes them dumb ideas and that makes you Dummy. “

  Wendy doubted that was the real reason Jones called her Dummy. She believed Jones gave her the nickname to keep her in her place, to remind her of how little significance her intelligence had to him. She waited, face in the carpet, for the next strike of the whip. She had not followed Jones’ instructions regarding Ms. Jacqueline Thorpe. She deserved to be whipped even longer and harder than a dumb slut like her normally warranted.

  Anni withdrew her pink shoe tip from Dummy�
�s pussy, “Lift your dress up around your waist, Dummy, and pull your panties down to your knees. “

  Dummy did as ordered. Anni used her shoe tip to lightly trace the lips of the wounded vulva through her damaged panties.

  “Now put your hands on each side and hold your dress in place clear of your ass. “

  Dummy followed the orders quickly without question, knowing she deserved Anni’s punishment.

  “Now I’m going to whip you, but instead of being lazy you have to knee march in a circle around this room until you pass out or I tell you to stop. “

  Dummy ‘walked’ on her knees while Anni whip-slashed her exposed ass. While Dummy struggled to keep her balance and continue moving, she suffered the double agony of new whip lines stinging across her ass and third degree carpet burns on her poor knees.

  Blinded by luscious pain Dummy never saw Anni stare at her glistening pussy mound, never saw Anni’s eyes devour the image of translucent fluid dripping down the insides of her trembling thighs. Deafened and hypnotized by the song of the lash, Dummy never heard Anni murmuring throatily behind her.

  “Or until you come…. “

  Chapter 5

  Jackie placed Jones’ portfolio on the floor and consulted her map of Goethner-Varner before exiting the administration building. The facility consisted of the outer parking lot, the main gate and security, several hundred feet of grounds leading to the inner parking lot and administration building, and several smaller buildings for staff and equipment. Behind and to the right of the administration building stood Building A and Building B, which contained troubled but typically harmless resident patients. Tucked far back and to the left, a thick wall of planted trees, labelled as ‘wind breaks’ on the map, surrounded Building C. Jackie tucked the map into her jacket pocket, grabbed the portfolio, stepped outside, and headed for her car in the parking lot.

  After placing Jones’ portfolio in her vehicle, Jackie’s nerves gathered force as she walked the paved pathway toward the ‘wind breaks’ obscuring Building C. She cynically noted she didn’t see any crops that needed protection from the wind. Clearly, the true intent was to conceal any view of Building C and the towering barbed wire fence surrounding it. The structural strategy seemed to be “out of sight, out of mind”.

  Jackie punched her temporary code into the console at the gate outside Building C, noting the small camera mounted at the top of the barbed wire fence and pointed at the gate. A disembodied electronic voiced demanded her name. As Jackie complied, her voice trembled with nervousness. Surprised at her sudden lack of confidence, she reminded herself that studying dangerous psychosis in college was far different from studying a real psychotic in person. Potential psychotic, she corrected, striving for fairness despite her own self interest in the final outcome.

  As she approached the building, dread assaulted Jackie and she fought the urge to flee. Picturing the crazy women holding vigil in the parking lot, she emitted a bitter laugh. She imagined dozens of Jones’ fans would regard her as lucky, who would give their right leg to be in her position. Maybe literally.

  Jackie entered the building and spotted two men sitting behind a wide metal desk, a middle-aged heavyset black guard whose name tag proclaimed him to be Hotchkiss and a younger overweight white man named Wilrey. Jackie pasted on her best smile as she gave her name. A cold professional demeanour would be ineffective with gentlemen of this ilk. It would cause them to brand her a bitch. She’d be seeing a lot of these guards in the next few weeks and her safety might depend on them.

  Hotchkiss handled her check-in with a friendly grin, “Welcome to Building C, Dr. Thorpe. Ms. Carter called ahead and told us to expect you, though when she described you she didn’t mention how beautiful you are. Did she, Wilrey? “

  Wilrey didn’t look at Hotchkiss, his eyes fixated on Jackie’s high breasts and long legs. “No, Hotchkisser, no idea at all. You’re welcome here Dr. Thorpe any time day or night. Especially night. Welcome with wide open arms. “

  Jackie struggled to keep a friendly smile on her face, especially after she noted an odd smell wafting from their twin desk. Sweaty but also bleach-like. She thought her sense of smell was tricking her until she saw little beads of sweat on Hotchkiss’ forehead. Same thing with Wilrey’s temples. It didn’t seem hot in the room to Jackie. Maybe they had just walked rounds? Maybe they had passed the time with an arm-wrestling contest. Guards were famous for finding unconventional ways to combat the boredom. Jackie congratulated herself on the keen observation.

  Hotchkiss shook his head at Wilrey’s comments. “Never mind Wilrey, ma’am. Us guards get a little lonely. In Wilrey’s case it’s made him dysfunctional. Few more years likely he’ll go from guard straight to patient. “

  Wilrey tore his avid gaze from Jackie’s well-concealed breasts and shot Hotchkiss a look brimming with hatred. For the first time Jackie’s smile faltered. Quick as a lockdown, Wilrey’s face reverted to simple lust and his greedy gaze returned to Jackie’s body, scanning her trim waist, skirt, and the small amount of leg that showed.

  Hotchkiss failed to notice Wilrey’s hatred. “Head on inside. If you’re not comfortable talking to Jones on your own, one of us can go with you. Otherwise, we’ll watch on the monitor. We’ll be in there in an instant if you need us. He’s in suite eight, on the right, just before the hallway turns. I’ll buzz you into his room. “

  “I’ll be fine on my own. I understand Mr. Jones is cooperative and incident free since his incarceration. But I appreciate your offer. Thanks guys. “

  Wilrey grinned, “Mr. Jones is very cooperative. Hell, he’s downright helpful. He’s a real Godsend. “

  Hotchkiss scowled, “Shut up, Wilrey! Miss, we’ll be right here watching. You need anything, let us know. If you think you’re in some kind of trouble we can’t see – like, theoretically, Jones issues some kind of verbal threat – just put a hand on top of your head and we’ll know to come running. “

  Wilrey failed to shut up, perhaps just to spite Hotchkiss, “Yeah, we’ll be watching. Hotchkiss can watch whatever he wants. I’ll keep my eyes glued on you Dr. Thorpe. I’ll study every move, every little twitch, just looking for any sign of trouble I can help out with. “

  “Good God, shut up already, Wilrey. Miss, don’t mind him. He’s ugly as a barn spider but just as harmless too. “

  “No bother, Mr. Hotchkiss. I have a good sense of humour. “

  Jackie didn’t feel Wilrey’s comments were at all humorous, but she would tolerate it to make her task as smooth and efficient as possible.

  She moved toward the entrance to the ward, feeling highly attuned to the crawl of Wilrey’s wet eyeballs up and down her legs. As the door buzzed unlocked, she made a note to wear slacks on her future visits.

  As the Thorpe woman moved through the ward Wilrey’s eyes stalked her, flicking instantly from camera view to camera view. He didn’t like how she dressed, like an uppity bitch who thought she was better than him. Her prissy dress suit left far too much to the imagination. Her skirt covered her legs to her knees and she made no attempt to show any cleavage.

  “That bitch should dress a lot sexier. “Wilrey scowled when Hotchkiss was too engrossed to respond. “Hey, my turn, give me some! “

  Licking his lips, Hotchkiss closed his eyes tight and swiped at the sweat beading by the white hair streaks above his ears. “Fuck off, Wilrey. You just keep watching Miss Thorpe. That should be enough entertainment for you. “

  Wilrey pursed his lips in frustration but turned back to the monitors. Thorpe stood outside Jones’ door, waiting for the guards to buzz her in. On another monitor view Jones reclined on his bed, lost in thought, meditating or just plain zoning. He did that a lot. Wilrey hadn’t figured out the reason though he didn’t much care.

  ilrey purposely waited extra seconds until he saw telltale signs of Thorpe’s impatience. He enjoyed watching her check her watch
, glance at the camera, and shift her feet restlessly. Oh yeah, watching Jones break the Thorpe bitch was going to be fun. As Thorpe entered Suite Eight, Wilrey turned back to Hotchkiss. As much as he liked keeping a pretty woman waiting he himself did not like to wait.

  “Now, Hotchkiss. My fucking turn! “

  “Fine. Four minutes then we switch again. “Hotchkiss leaned back and pushed his chair back, widening his legs as well as he could with his pants down to his knees. His penis stood fully erect and gleaming with spittle from the woman under the desk. The woman wordlessly crawled on her hands and knees over to Wilrey and immediately swallowed his shaft into her tireless mouth.

  The woman, Wilrey thought her name was Kianna, was one of Mr. Jones’ fans. Life was good for those who helped Mr. Jones. Wilrey grabbed handfuls of Kianna’s short blond hair and slammed her face harshly against his groin. Wilrey had no worry the woman would bite him or allow her teeth to scrape him. All she cared about was pleasing others at the direction of Jones. Like all of his fans, that was her whole life now.

  No one watched the monitors any longer. Wilrey concentrated on the oral though he fantasised it was Thorpe sliding her soft wet tongue all over the underside of his engulfed cock. Hotchkiss watched the action while one hand stroked up and down his cock to maintain his erection. They were unworried about Jacqueline Thorpe. She was in Jones’ hands, and he alone would now determine her fate.

  After the door electronically buzzed unlocked, Jackie knocked politely and waited for recognition. She had butterflies in her stomach. She couldn’t help it.

  Jones in person was less threatening than the images she’d seen on television and in newspapers. She suspected news organizations doctored his photos to make him appear more malevolent, as evil villains made for compelling news and larger profits. Nowadays the inflammatory news programs outperformed the fair and objective ones.

 

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