Mastering Jacqueline

by Jordan Church

  “I will not let obstacles in my path stop me. “

  She had to keep her focus on what was truly important. The current predicament of poor Shara Tillings and Carol Milligan. She was horrified on their behalf. If they really were committed and incarcerated, how must they feel imprisoned in patient suites, being “treated” by enslaved nurses and complicit guards, none of whom probably had half their intelligence or education?

  “I am strong and certain. “

  She could save them and that would save herself simultaneously. More than that, she would possibly gain success and fame. Before her was a beautiful carrot. Behind her was a huge stick Wayne Jones and his cronies would probably want to stick up her ass. Literally. After they used it to whack her ass painfully and repeatedly. She couldn’t help but picture it.

  “I am… and, uh… I will. . . “

  Jackie crossed halfway into the oncoming lane then jerked the car back on course. The bizarre dildo they’d used on her was so damn big and when it was vibrating and when she had it deep inside her it transformed her into a pure slut. A slut who thought only of the moment. Past upbringing and standards, future aspirations and concerns, all dissolved away. Thinking about it made her want to have another encounter with it.

  Not healthy, not wise, thinking about those things now. She could feel wetness inside her panties. Almost there. Better stop thinking about those things or she’d end up with a dark spot on the seat of her dark skirt.

  She pulled into Goethner-Varner’s outer parking lot. She wondered if Monica and her adult daughter, Kira, were hanging out in the lot protesting on behalf of Wayne Jones along with others of Jones’ followers. She hoped not. The notion of seeing Monica was nearly unbearable. Just two days past she was compelled to give and receive sexual favors with Monica, a. k. a. Firecrotch. It would be terribly embarrassing to ever see her again. Even more because of her current outfit.

  The analytical observer in her nature - the part that led her to a career in the field of Psychology - noted how odd it was that the opinion of someone for whom she had no respect, someone like Monica, could still be important to her. It made no sense. She’d directed herself wisely in her sexual encounters in the past and had never before tasted the blend of dread, disbelief, and horror of possibly running into someone she regretted having had sex with.

  There she was.

  Monica and Kira stood near the gate controlling the road into the inner, staff, parking lot and the rest of the Institute. Monica saw Jackie, slapped her daughter on the shoulder and pointed. Kira’s large dark eyes found Jackie.

  Jackie cringed behind the wheel and pretended she didn’t see them. But she couldn’t help but dart a look as she sidled her car past. Her cheeks flushed furiously when she saw both grinning at her, Monica winking and Kira giving her a thumbs up sign.

  My God, thought Jackie, would the guards at the gate notice? What would they think? Her cheeks blazed brighter as she also wondered how much Monica had revealed to her own daughter. Probably everything. Certainly everything.

  Jackie scanned the dozen or so protesters by looking in her rear view mirror as she waited a moment for the car in front of her to go through the gate. Only Monica and Kira gave her much attention but she couldn’t help thinking Monica may have told them all. In her mind she could hear her sultry voice and picture her enthusiastic face as she went from follower to follower and told them, “You know that pretty blonde Psychoanalyst who comes here daring to judge King Jones? I sucked her pussy and she licked me out. Plus, I pierced her nipples! “

  ***

  What a nightmare. First the fans in the parking lot, then walking in her skimpy outfit down the winding path to Building C that contained the maximum security patients including Wayne Jones, and then getting past the ogling guards. She hugged herself as they checked her through pretending chill from the winter cold so they wouldn’t see her pierced nipples. It wasn’t Hotchkiss and Wilrey this time luckily. She didn’t really mind Hotchkiss but she was repelled by the fat one Wilrey. These two made no rude comments but they definitely checked out her long mostly bare legs.

  She didn’t want to see Jones. He made her nervous. More than that, she was almost scared of him now. He wasn’t physically intimidating but his ability to manipulate and control others was fearsome. She wanted to get away from him and the entire situation but it was like having a tiger by the tail and not knowing how to let go.

  Now that she was logged in and allowed through the locked doors to the maximum security wing she knew to go directly to the door leading to Wayne Jones room. The guards would watch her on the hall camera to make sure she went to the correct room. Then they would buzz unlocked his room door to allow her entry and continue watching as she interacted with Jones. She wished they wouldn’t. She didn’t want them to see whatever Jones made her do to prove herself.

  It still angered her that Jones had turned the tables on her and she now had to prove herself to him when it should be the other way around. He should be trying to prove his sanity to her and now she was doubting her own sanity.

  It was overwhelming but right now she had to concentrate on passing Jones’ test. If he couldn’t do that her project would be over, her partnership opportunity with Robert would be lost, and she would have no chance to find and free Tillings and Milligan.

  She would be an unemployed failure and there would still be plenty of video of her sexual debasement at the hands of Little Johnson twice alone and then by him and Monica together. That would always be hanging over her head making her a sexual puppet to people she loathed. Either that or she would become a shameful public embarrassment. It would be her choice depending on if she cooperated with them. She wasn’t sure which she would choose if it came to that.

  At Jones’ room -- called a “suite” to make it sound like something other than a prison cell -- she was surprised to see the door was open with Jones calmly seated at the tiny table in the room. So, it was true… Jones was running Goethner-Varner now, calling the shots even with the guards.

  Jackie stepped in, tentative now the moment of truth was at hand. Another moment of truth, a test, a confrontation, an impending humiliating defeat. Jones casually waved her to sit down opposite him.

  She sat down with her arms crossed protectively in front of her and across the purse in her lap. Jackie was highly aware of the compromising photos in the purse. Her nipples were hurting particularly bad suddenly, the weight of the wide rings seeming to increase. As Jones imposing gaze stared into her own her eyes widened with shock. She realized her nipples were hard and that was why they hurt so much more now. The blood flow that erected them stretched the delicate skin and the wounded edgings of the fresh piercing. The weight of the fattened nipples was added to the weight of the fat rings already pulling the tips of her breasts a few inches down. Why were her nipples so hard? She had to admit these sexually tense, scarily humiliating circumstances were complicit in the nipple erections. Amidst the pain of expansion and pulling discomfort she could also feel every molecule of the silky material rubbing across her nipple tips.

  She wanted to grab at her nipples… to do something about them. She wanted to get up and retreat. Instead, she just sat there as his eyes drilled into her.

  “You’re back, Jacqueline Rose Thorpe. You are welcome here. I do hope you prove worthy of my continued time and attention. I like you and would rather not start over from scratch but I do have standards. I am cheering for you. I’d like to get out of here and get on with my revenge. “

  “Revenge? ‘

  “Cassandra Zane. I gave her great satisfaction. I gave her understanding of her true self. In return, when she was surprised and disconcerted by the interruption in our fun, out of sheer irresponsible expedience she gave me captivity. Some belong in captivity. Not just criminals and the dangerously insane. Many innocents also belong in captivity. I am none of those. I am more th
e captor type. That’s too modest. I’m more the Prison Warden type. “

  “So you’re saying once you get out… I mean, if you are released, if I help release you, you’ll enact revenge on Cassandra Zane? What kind of revenge? “

  “Don’t worry yourself. I’m no murderer. It will, however, be something quite permanent. “

  “What you just told me, that alone would be adequate grounds to deny your release. “

  “Only if you put it in your report. Which you won’t. It would get in the way of one of your two missions in life, namely, freeing me. “

  “What’s the other? ‘

  “Can’t you guess? “

  “Oh, right, being a “slave”. Not going to happen. You’re really not on speaking terms with reality, are you? “

  “I see you realize I’m perfectly sane. “

  “What? Not at all. “

  “You just proved it if you examine your own behavior a moment. You mocked me. You’re a professional, right, out to help the mentally troubled? If you truly thought I was insane you would never sarcastically refer to my being “not on speaking terms with reality”. A pro like you would never make fun of true mental disability. “

  Damn. She realized he was right. He scared her and made her angry but she really didn’t think he was insane.

  “Jacqueline Rose, you make the common mistake -- the only one more common is underestimating me -- of working under the assumption that you are the “good guy” and I am the ‘bad guy”. Yet, look at what is happening here. You clearly prefer to keep me incarcerated when you know I am perfectly sane. “

  The simple and true summation made Jackie swallow.

  He waited a moment to see if she had a snappy comeback, or even a paltry denial, and, when she didn’t, he proceeded, “You will answer my questions honestly or suffer the consequences. First question: Since our last meeting, did you enjoy following orders and being submissive? “

  She opened her mouth slightly, knowing she must give some answer. The correct answer was “No”. The true answer was “Yes”. Sort of “Yes”. Between the periods of curious wrongful enjoyment there had been long stretches of anger and guilt. He obviously would want her to say ‘Yes”. Since Little Johnson doubtless kept him briefed he would actually know the answer was “Yes”.

  “Jackie Rose, it’s a simple “Yes” or “No” question. “

  She had to say yes but she was reluctant to admit it and hated giving him the satisfaction. Honesty would make her even more vulnerable, even more compromised.

  “Yes. “

  “Good Girl. Second question: Did you enjoy pain, did the pain increase the magnitude of your orgasms, are you, in fact, a masochistic slut? “

  “Mr. Jones, that’s three questions. “

  “I make the rules around here. The answer to all three questions -- all three parts of the same question -- will be the same answer. It is either yes to all three or no to all three. You must be honest and brave enough to acknowledge the truth. We all know the true answer. All you have to do is say it. It won’t make it fact, it already is fact. “

  She knew the truth and knew what she must say. He was wrong about one thing though. Saying it was a big deal. Saying it would make it all the more true. It would make it official. Redefine her. Change her irrevocably. She felt emotionally dissected. Jones was pulling aside layers to reveal her secrets to the open air. It was awful. The distracting hardness of her weighted and sensitized nipples contrasting the wet mushiness of her sex were not helping her cause. Her own body had no loyalty to her end goals or long-term well-being.

  Her own lips also had no loyalty to keeping her secrets private.

  “Yes. “

  “Good Girl. Third question: What name should you be called? “

  “You know I prefer Jacqueline but you insist on calling me Jackie Rose. Fine. I don’t much care about that now. “

  “Wrong answer. Your errors really should be punished with a whipping or at least a good spanking but you haven’t yet earned the privilege of receiving my most acute attention. Besides, at this point in your development, perhaps not punishing you is the worse punishment. Try again. I’m quite merciful. You don’t have to get every question correct immediately, just correct in the end. “

  “I thought you liked to call me Jackie Rose! What’s the answer? Tell me what to say. “

  “Do it on your own. “

  “Slut? “

  “That’s what you are, not your name. “

  “Wait! I know, is it Good Girl? “

  “I told you I wouldn’t touch you but, if you get this simple question wrong one more time I’ll have both guards come in here and share you, each of them filling every hole in your body in reverse order. “

  Jackie’s eyes were wide. She could tell he meant it and realized he had the power to make it happen. He had her and the guards under his influence in different ways. She couldn’t resist or mess up. She had to play his game and had to be competent at it. She definitely didn’t want those guards brought in. She couldn’t afford any more people being privy to her sexual vulnerability. Desperation led to inspiration and she connected the dots. She’d known Little Johnson served him.

  “…Fishy. “

  “Good, Fishy. I wish I had a treat for you but for the true submissive the real reward is in giving and serving. In that tradition, do you have a personalized gift for me? “

  Jackie reached into her purse and found the two photos. Answering his damn and damning questions was one thing but handing over conclusive photographic evidence of her sluttiness was a perversion of her common sense. Once these photos were out of her possession she would be further in their control like a fly in a spider’s web, its struggles tangling it in webbing tighter and tighter for the spider to finish it at leisure. These photos could be sent to her parents or be posted on the internet. She would forever be subject to possible blackmail.

  She had no choice. She had to continue forward in order to get through to the far side. She offered the photos towards Jones. She felt like she was handing over the keys to her soul.

  “Just set them on the table. I’ll get around to them. “

  Jackie actually felt worse, even insulted, that he didn’t scoop them up immediately. What was such a big deal to her seemed to have only minor significance to him. She wondered if he did this purposely to display confidence in his control and to make her feel low. If so, it was working wonderfully.

  Jones stood up from his side of the table and walked away from the potentially reputation-destroying photos. He walked over near the bed and pressed the call button on a panel four times, each time it toned musically to reassure the patient they’d pressed hard enough to send a signal. It was similar to a nurse call button in a standard hospital and Jackie knew it served the same purpose here. What was Jones up to? She looked down at the face up photos and then glanced nervously at the open door. Her hand hovered nervously over the photos. Would they call in by speakerphone or would someone show up in person?

  “Leave those collector item photos on the table, Fishy. Those are my photos now and you don’t have permission to touch them. Whenever you visit me, from now on, never take any action without my permission. In fact, no actions other than what I order you to do. Follow all my directions immediately and without thought. It is my role to do the thinking, yours to do the obeying. That way we each do what we’re good at and what we’re meant for. Some people call that destiny. “

  Jackie didn’t appreciate these limitations on her freedom and the insulting role definitions but knew better than to say as much. She hated the entire role reversal in power structure between them. She thought she hated Wayne Jones though she knew it was unprofessional for her to hate a patient. Even one she knew was perfectly sane. Even one who manipulated her so perfectly. She hated him at times but had
grown to have an alien respect for him. It was amazing what he’d accomplished in having his way here at the Goethner-Varner Mental Health Hospital. Every time he pulled one of her strings and made her act according to his will her respect for him reluctantly grew. It was dangerous.

  Jones sat on his bed and studied her. It was hard to tell what thought might be lurking behind those cracked hazel eyes, “Fishy, you’ve answered the three questions honestly and delivered a personalized gift. Now it is time for you to prove that you understand my language. “

  Jackie knew what he wanted and felt a surprising dart of arousal. Was she really going to do this? It was awful and intimidating but also exciting. After all, it would be a shame to have her nipples pierced for Jones and then not even show him. She’d gone through a lot of pain and mental anguish to bring these pierced nipples to him. Even now she felt a lot of discomfort and they stung a little especially since they were so hard. She’d never realized until that moment she had a streak of exhibitionism. Just the thought was driving her wild.

  She glanced at the door and hesitated. Was someone coming? What about visitors and staff walking down the hallway?

  “Fishy, when I tell you to do something I don’t mean eventually or when you feel like doing it. I did not ask you to think. What I tell you to do, do immediately. “

  Jackie pulled the suit jacket off, fully revealing her thin transparent violet top and, through it, the wide silver rings piercing each nipple. She knew it was obvious her nipples were erect and purposely avoided looking down to confirm that fact. The sensations of strange weight and achy sensitivity were maddening.

  She looked nervously at him to see if he was satisfied. His lips were pursed. Immediately she abandoned the hope that the transparency of the top would be enough. It was strapless so she pulled it straight down to gather at her waist. She saw Jones’ thin lips relax.