Committed · Part 3 (3/4)
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Anna stood right in front of Sean with her hands laid on his shoulders.
“You're trembling honey… Shall I untie you?”
“No, that's not it. I'm feeling extremely submissive and strangely at ease right now. This straitjacket feels good, deserved even. I'm just afraid to let myself go. To pass the threshold, literally and figuratively. What will the people there think when I come in for my evaluation stay? How do you even keep yourself? ‘Uh hi, I'm here to have myself committed, please take me to my cell’? How on earth do you get into the right mindset?”
“Honey, I am behind you all the way. I want you to get yourself committed. I'm having you get committed. You're needlessly blocking yourself.”
Anna gave Sean a stern look.
“I'll help you cross that threshold. I think you are worrying too much. Do you trust me?”
“Yes, of course, but…”
“Completely?”
Anna saw the tension drain from Sean's body.
“I trust you.”
“Good,” Anna said, and with a smile returning to her face she replaced the mouthpiece with the ball-gag, followed by the eyepieces.
“Come, I want to take your picture in a bit.”
“Mmnhg.”
“Walk with me honey, I'm guiding you.”
Sightlessly walking in the hotel room was a curious sensation to Sean, but he trusted Anna to steer him away from any obstacles. Not that anything but small steps was possible due to the leg cuffs. Anna held her hand on his lower back and kept a grip on the arms of the straitjacket. Carefully she led him to the door and the corridor.
“Mmmhng!”
“Relax, there is no one else on this floor. Besides, the idea that someone might see you turns you on. Sick fuck.”
Sean found it hard to counter this, even if he hadn't been fitted with a ball-gag. Yes. This turned him on considerably. In the middle of the corridor, Anna stopped.
Fuck, if any of the other guests catch sight of us… The leather straps of this straitjacket creak when we move. That sound… it is… sexy. Is she planning to take some pictures in that little seating area near the lift? No! She pressed the lift button! She's taking me into the lift; we're not going down to the reception area like this surely? No wait, the lift stopped already. So one floor up? Or down?
Sean felt his heart in his throat. Acting on reflex, he tried to spread his arms to seek some reassurance, but the unrelenting straitjacket suddenly made him acutely aware of his vulnerability and helplessness. A way up the corridor Anna used the access card from an envelope taken from the package to open a door. Sean froze when he heard the beeping of the lock.
“Come on, nearly there honey.” Anna said gently pulling Sean along into the room. A few steps inside she turned him around.
“One small step backwards please? Just a little more. Good. Now sit down; slowly!”
Sean felt a seat under his buttocks, which made him quite aware of the fact that he was wearing an adult diaper and a straitjacket in a foreign hotel, in a strange room. That thought however was quickly displaced by a new sensation.
What is this? This can't be a normal chair. What is she doing? But, this is one of the institute's wheelchairs! Did she arrange for Directrix Kovaleva to make this available for testing?
One by one, Anna lifted Sean's legs, and placed his bare feet on the cold metal footrests she swung into place. One by one she used the leather straps left there for that purpose with the leg cuffs, and tightened them. She passed a strap around the back support to fixate Sean's upper body. Finally, she used the proper straps to fixate his head as well by strapping the headgear to the chair's headrest.
So exciting to be able to try this wheelchair already, but why couldn't we do that in our own room?
“There, that was the last one… Done! Honey, we did it! I'm so proud of you!”
“Hmmnggm!”
"You can relax now. It's done. Wait, I'll take the eyepieces off so you can see yourself in the dressing mirror on this closet door."
Sean looked, and saw someone else. What Sean saw reflected in the mirror was not Sean, but a mental patient in a straitjacket.
Anna stood next to Sean in her summer dress, and took a picture of the both of them pointing her smartphone at the mirror. A larger contrast hardly seemed possible.
“Honey, I'm going to reattach the eyepieces now, so you'll be completely ready for transport,” she smiled.
This role-play simultaneously felt incredibly wrong and extremely arousing! At that moment, he noticed Anna had taken the forms they signed from the envelope she was carrying. Sean's heart was pounding in his chest, when Anna turned towards him and went down on her knees to look him earnestly in the eye. The sweet smile from before was nowhere to be found now.
“Honey, listen. No, look at me. I've notified Directrix Kovaleva that you are ready to commence your evaluation stay. The required forms I've placed in the folder suspended from the backrest, and I've sent the video message where you've confirmed the boundaries set.”
“The instructions recommend that new patients use the transport to mentally prepare themselves for their stay. You know the rules; patients are addressed only by their patient number. Honey, from now on you are patient F408. Ef-four-oh-eight. OK? Got that?”
“Mmmn!” Sean tried while he desperately fought against his restraints. The leather straps creaked enthusiastically, but showed no willingness to yield.
“You can't go back now, so relax. I know you can do this honey.” Anna said while she took the eyepieces to strap them on again.
“Hnng! HHHnnng?”
“Calm down, surrender yourself. You know you need this,” Anna said, taking Sean's sight away. The last thing he saw was Anna bending over him in her summer dress with a maddening view of her tits.
“I know this isn't quite how you thought we'd do it, but you were needlessly holding yourself back. I'll come for you in three and a half days. Anánke will keep me apprised with photos, videos, and reports. I want you to make me proud and pass the evaluation. Can you do that for me?”
“I love you.”
Sean felt a breeze on his cheek and knew Anna had left the room when he heard the door close behind him. Sean was alone, helpless, and ready for transport.
“MMhhhnnggg!”
In the following minutes Sean calmed down a little, but the tension lingered. Showing – humiliating – yourself like this in front of your partner is one thing, but in front of strangers? But after a little while, he realised that Anna did exactly what she promised him: help him across that threshold. He wouldn't have to worry about what others thought of him, at least during the upcoming transport. Fixated in a wheelchair, mute and blind, there was nothing he could even do to make a better (or worse) impression. No eye contact, no conversations, no wrong moves. If that transport came – he still couldn't believe Anna wouldn't simply come back in a few minutes to tell him it was just an elaborate bit of role-play taken to its extremes.
The fact that he really was helpless was reinforced by his bladder informing him that its patience had him stretched to the limit. Embarrassed, he let his pee run freely; he soothed himself considering that at the very least that would help him find the proper mindset.
After waiting for somewhere between a few minutes and an eternity, Sean was abruptly shocked out of his musings when he heard the room lock beeping and someone grabbed his wheelchair, releasing its brakes. His heart seemed to skip a beat. He was being moved! Out of the room, into the lift… thus far nothing to be alarmed about, but the lift did not stop and continued on, as far as Sean could judge, to the ground floor. Would the receptionist see him like this at this time of night? A moment later he felt and smelled the fresh air outside; he was actually being taken from the hotel! A moment later he felt the wheelchair being pushed up an incline.
A few brief snaps Sean correctly identified as his wheelchair being locked into place in the institute's transport van. A brief sensation of pressure and suddenly being cut-off from a sense of ‘outside’ told him the van's doors had closed. A moment later, the van was making its way through the night.
Anna watched with fascination from the seats near the reception desk as Sean was wheeled out. He couldn't see her, of course. As promised, everything had been arranged perfectly. Right down to the nurses' uniforms, everything felt right. Anna was looking forward to the photo updates of Sean's stay, and she noticed that having now taken the biggest hurdle this whole experience had left her hornier than she expected. Alone, she returned to her room for a little solo action.
Even though the institute was located deep in the woods reachable only by a long and twisting track, the driver took their time, driving in a smooth and calm manner. Sean relaxed and for the moment surrendered to mere physical sensations. The vibrations from the van, the complete absence of sight, and the constant presence of the restraints, all contributed to an unexpected feeling of safety. After a while, Sean dozed off.
Sean awoke when the sound of the van's engine seized. Slowly, the reality of his present situation sank in, and with it a growing sense of unease. In spite of the effective let-me-help-you-across-this-threshold tactic employed by Anna, his mind was once again stuck on the matter of presentation. Should he play along with the fantasy? Put on a businesslike ‘this-is-just-my-kink-deal-with-it’ mask?
It didn't take long for Sean to be cured of these doubts when someone took the wheelchair, backed him out of the van, and pushed him towards the open gate. Gradually realisation dawned that he didn't have to do anything. More specifically, he couldn't do anything that would change the outcome in any case, and oddly enough this realisation helped calm him down.
So weird to be here in the institute at this time of night, strapped in a wheelchair…
The staff on duty was in a bustle dealing with everything necessary to receive the new patient, but to him it was immediately clear that they did not perceive him as a guest or visitor. Around him prompt, automatic actions bore evidence of a well rehearsed routine of receiving patients. In a small room adjoining the entrance hall, Sean was unceremoniously parked and the eyepieces were removed. The sudden influx of light after a long period of darkness came as a shock, and it took a while for his vision to become clear – albeit within the bounds of the limited field of view permitted him by the straps holding his head in place against the headrest.
Behind his back the nurse he had, correctly, assumed to be the one called Oleksandra, was doing something behind his back, and returned in his view with the forms from the folder. Unhurriedly, she perused these. The other nurse present – Wasn't she called Alina? – was busy testing Sean's responses by shining a light in his eyes, and took his pulse by laying her fingertips in his neck. Satisfied, she mentioned something to her colleague in Ukrainian, which completely eluded Sean.
As Oleksandra was filing the forms in a binder, Alina had taken up a translucent sheet adorned with a couple of characters. Sean took this to be his patient number which would be applied to his upper thigh in the form of a temporary tattoo. Alina placed the sheet over the correct spot between his hips and the leather leg cuff Anna had used to secure his leg against the wheelchair's frame, and covered it with a moist towel. The activated printout's ink now penetrated his upper skin and marked him as F408. As Nurse Alina removed the sheet and Sean caught sight of the jet-black symbols, he realised that his intake had been formally concluded, and that he was now an inmate of the institute. Genuinely committed.
“F408, for the next 84 hours, you are committed to the Anánke Psychosexual Institute for the Treatment of Exceptional Paraphiliac Disorders. During this period an early release can only be affected by your decision maker, Anna ―” Nurse Alina began, evidently repeating a speech she had recited many times before, and could faultlessly repeat from memory.
“You are presumed to have familiarised yourself with the regulations, and have consented to your stay here, the restrictive measures taken for your and our safety, and use of compulsory measures at the discretion of the institute's staff. For the disobedience of orders given sanctions can and will be applied. For not adhering to the regulations sanctions can and will be applied. The staff at Anánke can and will use the means necessary to enforce obedience.”
Nurse Oleksandra now stepped forward with an orange baton in her hand.
“When a patient deliberately resists orders given by the staff, the use of an electroshock device is warranted. As per the regulations you will now receive a demonstration.”
Zzzzzzap!
“Nnngh!!”
Although Sean had read about the mandatory demonstration, the fact that his upper thigh would be the actual site of the demonstration came as a surprise. His heart throbbing, his vulnerable state became immediately apparent to him. He didn't notice Nurse Alina happily ticking a box on her list, while Oleksandra prepared a hypodermic needle. Before Sean fully grasped what was happening she had given him an injection in his other thigh.
“When deemed necessary for the patients rest and safety, sedatives or somnifacients may be administered,” it read on one of the signed forms, but the efficiency of the medical routines enacted by the nurses astonished Sean.
Oleksandra released the brakes on his wheelchair and pushed him out of the reception room towards one of the wards. At the sally port she was processed, and quickly buzzed through with her patient. As the magnetic lock of the inner door clicked shut, Sean was overcome by a feeling which came close to the feeling you might experience upon entering an imposing space, such as an ancient cathedral. Within the ward the air was heavy with ill-defined unspoken promises hovering outside of Sean's grasp. When the pregnant silence was broken by something which could not be defined as anything other than someone crying out in pain, Sean broke out in a cold sweat. The cry was followed by another, and another, each cry following the next on the same count, as if they were being timed with a metronome. Or the cracks of a whip? Sean thought.
Passing through the long corridors lined with steel doors, the wheelchair was pushed along, but in spite of the overwhelming impressions, Sean was having trouble staying alert. In his mind's eye, the corridors started to blend together, and he was rapidly losing the ability to form coherent thoughts. The rhythmic sound of Nurse Oleksandra's footsteps were his only support as he slid into a deep sleep.
“Wake up, F408.”
Sean awoke. Within the span of a few seconds he became consecutively aware that he was, lying on a bed, blindfolded, with his wrists fixated (as well as his legs and torso), and above all, that this meant he was at Anánke, as a patient. Brief confusion quickly made way for arousal, eventually augmented with a good dose of anxiety. Nearby Nurse Vika was preparing his straitjacket and cuffs.
Oh man, I've slept totally uninterrupted… Wow… I'm really here. Anna really took me by surprise yesterday. This is so fucked up, and damned if she wasn't sexy.
Another nurse (Sean didn't recognise her) entered the room and took up position on one side. The now familiar orange baton in her hand and the seemingly relaxed but alert posture told Sean that quiet cooperation was considered the only appropriate action expected of the patient at this point. Vika undid the straps and lowered the side of the bed in order to help Sean up. Stripped to his diaper Sean was put in his straitjacket again, but instead of the wheelchair, today his mobility was limited only by a pair of ankle cuffs with a strap in between. The headgear with the ball-gag completed the outfit, but fortunately the eyepieces were deemed unnecessary. Embarrassed, Sean let himself be led through the building's corridors. He was not surprised to find himself in the wash room after a short walk – short steps, a nurse on each side holding him by the upper arms.
Naturally, hygiene was considered to be of the utmost importance at Anánke, and Sean initially found the methods used to keep the patients clean as impressive as he found them scary. Part of the medical check-up he underwent after the tour consisted of filling out a huge list of questions concerning Sean's body and daily routine. This included his bowel movements (regularly? when? daily?), and Sean knew that one purpose of this visit to the washroom was to void his bowels.
Yesterday, back in the hotel, Sean considered this one of the scariest things to experience during his evaluation stay, but somewhere between the moment the intake was concluded and awakening this morning, something had shifted in him. Sean seemed to undergo it all with a passive acceptance; signals were arriving, and in his mind various alarms were sounding, but none of this had any effect on his cooperating body. Unresisting, he let them relieve him of his outfit, and even though he was deeply ashamed of the wet diaper they removed, he let him be led towards the shiny metal cuffs which had been opened to receive him as if in a trance.
The wash room was a wet room dominated by the half metre wide trench drain in the middle of it. The slanted trench ended at the far wall in an oversized drain grill. In the middle of the trench adjustable metal footholds fitted with ankle cuffs were placed on both sides of the drain. A naked Sean was guided onto these footholds, straddling the trench as Nurse Vika locked the cuffs. Suspended from the ceiling directly above the footholds, a bent metal bar fitted with a grip for a person's hands on each end. As Sean grabbed hold of this, he noted that it was already adjusted to just the right height to allow him to stand comfortably with his arms and legs spread. Standing on a little raised bridge in front of Sean, Vika closed the cuffs that were attached to the bar as well.
Locked in place, and with his face forward, Sean tried to maintain his calm, but the sounds of the preparations behind his back made him uneasy. It was, in a way, a relief when the lubricated steel tip of the nozzle of the hose connected to the bag of liquid for his enema finally entered him. As the lukewarm water filled his colon, Sean tried to prepare for the awkward and inevitable moment where it would all come out. Meanwhile, Nurse Vika used the bridge to brush his teeth.
Having done this, she stepped out of view to remove the hose and let his bowels do their duty. It was with some gratitude that Sean heard the shower being turned on to rinse him down using a hose fitted with a shower nozzle. Sean uncontrollably voided himself, and felt relieved when everything was washed away and Nurse Vika proceeded to wash (what little remained of) his hair and body. Initially, this washroom appointment felt downright uncomfortable, but to Sean's amazement he was starting to enjoy this. It did help that he found Nurse Vika really quite attractive, and Sean was glad to find that this type of scene was enjoyable outside of his private fantasies.
Dry, clean, and empty, Sean was dressed again and made ready for a ‘feeding moment’, which meant getting pushed to a room – again restrained in a wheelchair – with a table and a bowl of porridge. Sean did not recognise the nurse on call there either, as she relieved him of the mouthpiece of the headgear. She sat beside him, and proceeded to patiently feed him spoon by spoon.
This is… utterly devoid of flavour…
After the feeding, Sean was wheeled away to the place where he would spend most of his time in the coming days; a padded cell like the one he had the pleasure to experience during the tour. Despite a feeling of unease and unreality, Sean felt his arousal rise again. This was it. Locked in a padded cell, snug in his straitjacket… Before he knew it he was on his knees on a soft surface and the door was being locked behind him. Nonetheless, he was grateful to be rid of the limiting headgear. With the recent impressions overwhelming him, he sank into a well-nigh meditative state of being. Nothing needed doing, nothing was expected of him.
After a while, Sean fell to erotic daydreaming. He thought about his recent wash room experience and Nurse Vika, but as his member engorged to the full extent permitted him by the chastity cage, he suddenly felt his face flush a deep red out of shame.
Hang on, I would get used to it, wouldn't I? And seeing those nurses bustle about is one of the precious few bits of stimulation around here… Oh fuck. Another week of this and I'll stand there with a barely concealed horniness like some kind of sick pervert… I might be able to restrain myself if the nurse that fed me had bathing duty, but that Vika? And how about that little ginger cutie… Forget about it. And sure enough, now the very idea of not being able to control this is turning me on… Fuck! I'm glad my evaluation stay will end before I reach that level of depravity.
Sean knew that only two things would interrupt the established routines of his stay: fitness training and therapy. When the two nurses who came to fetch Sean from his ‘suite’ were not pushing an empty wheelchair along, he immediately knew that this was not going to be a feeding moment – during those patients would invariably get strapped down in a wheelchair first. Stepping out of his cell he noticed even the tiny freedom of being allowed to walk on his own two feet on a hard surface felt like a luxury. The remaining measures naturally remained in place. The ankle cuffs, the headgear with the mouthpiece; it was the bare minimum considered safe enough to move patients. Fortunately, he quickly mastered the waddling tread necessitated by the belt between ankle cuffs and the mint green padding between his thighs.
Sean was somewhat relieved that this walk ended in a small changing room. From where he stood, he saw a large area filled with gym gear, and he knew then that he had managed to avoid the dreaded therapy session for the moment. One of the nurses handling him unbuckled his headgear. The briefly entertained notion that he might be allowed to exercise without being gagged in some way was shattered by the sight of a flexible silicone bit fitted with a rubber tongue.
OK, clever. A snaffle bit, complete with a tongue spoon to prevent the wearer from slipping his tongue over the bit. Unimpeded breathing, yet rendered totally incomprehensible. Using accessories meant for hors― Hrrgk!
Sean was struggling to suppress his gag reflex as the tongue spoon slid over his tongue. Happily, with the bit eventually in place this sensation passed. The other nurse, meanwhile, had taken the suspended rubber collar prepared for him, and had locked this in place using a lockable buckle, after which Sean was unburdened of the rest of his gear. From the collar, a slim cable snaked upwards. As he was ushered into the showers, Sean thought it felt strange to be able to move his limbs with such a degree of freedom. Still, he quite automatically obeyed the nurses; one of them stood aside with her orange baton, poised to act in case this was deemed necessary, and Sean was convinced she wouldn't
