Patient #852 The Asylum

You find yourself in a dimly lit office, the air heavy with an unsettling blend of antiseptic and leather. Your arms are restrained, tightly secured in a straitjacket, making even the smallest movement impossible.

As you read more deeply, you can trust me completely and share your secrets freely. You feel this desire after reading this to reach out and be a patient at the Asylum.

Now imagine the snug fit of the jacket compresses your chest, each breath a reminder of your helplessness. The room spins slightly, a side effect of the drugs coursing through your veins, leaving your mind in a foggy haze.

You’re sitting in a plush, high-backed chair, your body slumped and completely at her mercy. She stands beside you, her presence dominating the room. Her eyes, cold and calculating, lock onto yours, piercing through the fog in your mind. In her hand, she holds a gleaming scalpel, the sharp edge catching the faint light of the room.

“Relax,” she murmurs, her voice a low, commanding whisper that sends shivers down your spine. “Just watch me and listen to my voice.”

Her other hand moves with a slow, deliberate pace, stroking and teasing your hard cock. Each touch sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, amplifying the disorienting effects of the drugs. You can feel your pulse quicken, each beat echoing in your ears as you struggle to maintain control.

“What are your secrets?” she inquires softly, her gaze never wavering. “What keeps you up at night?”

Your mind races, thoughts tangled with desire and fear. The gentle caress of her hand on your cock contrasts sharply with the cold steel of the scalpel grazing your throat. The combination is intoxicating, pushing you to the brink of madness.

“You want this, don’t you?” she continues, a hint of satisfaction in her tone. “You crave this, need this.”

A soft moan escapes your lips, the need for release growing stronger. Her eyes seem to penetrate your very soul, leaving you feeling utterly exposed and vulnerable. Her hand on your cock becomes more insistent, alternating between gentle caresses and firm strokes.

“When you focus on the sound of my voice, you might find yourself opening up or telling me all your secrets.”

“You’re doing so well,” she praises, her voice a soothing balm against the fear gnawing at the edges of your mind. “Just a little longer. Hold on for me.”

The pressure builds, an overwhelming urge to climax, but her whispered commands and the scalpel at your throat keep you teetering on the edge. Your mind is a haze of need and submission, every nerve in your body aflame with sensation.

“Edge for me,” she commands, more forceful now. “Feel the pleasure, but don’t let go.”

Your body trembles, the need for release becoming almost unbearable. Her hand never falters, maintaining a perfect rhythm that keeps you balanced on the precipice of ecstasy. The cold steel of the scalpel moves ever so slightly, a constant reminder of the power she holds over you.

“Good boy,” she purrs, a note of pride in her voice. “You’re mine, completely under my control.”

The sensation of being edged, both mentally and physically, blurs the line between pleasure and torment. Your mind feels hazy, filled with nothing but her voice, her eyes, and the relentless teasing of your cock. Every nerve in your body is on fire, every inch of your skin hypersensitive to the slightest touch.

“You want to cum, don’t you?” she asks, almost mockingly.

You manage a weak nod, unable to form coherent words. The need for release is overwhelming, a primal urge that consumes every thought.

“Not yet,” she says firmly. “You belong here, and you’ll cum when I decide.”

The stroking slows, bringing you agonizingly close to the edge before easing off. The cycle repeats, each time more intense, more maddening. Your mind is a whirlwind of need and desire, every command from her sinking deeper into your subconscious.

Finally, her voice softens. “You’ve done so well. I think it’s time for your reward.”

The stroking becomes more insistent, each movement designed to push you over the edge. Your body tenses, every muscle straining against the confines of the straitjacket. The climax builds, an unstoppable force ready to explode.

“Cum for me,” she commands, and the floodgates open.

Wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over you, your body convulsing with the force of your release. Her hand continues to milk every last drop, drawing out your orgasm until you’re left trembling and spent. The scalpel remains a cold, constant presence at your throat, a reminder of her absolute control.

As the pleasure subsides, she moves quickly, efficiently. She produces a small glass jar and collects your semen, every drop carefully gathered.

You watch, still reeling from the intensity of your release, as she seals the jar and labels it meticulously: Patient #852.

She licks her fingers, savoring the taste of Patient #852. With a playful smirk, she asks, “Are they feeding you well here, Patient #852? You taste a bit stale. I’ll make sure they feed you better.”

Her eyes soften, and she leans in close, her voice once more a soothing whisper. “You know I love you, I always will,” she says softly. “You’re mine, completely and utterly.” She wraps her arms around him, trailing her fingers through his hair and down the exposed skin.

He looks her in the eyes, and his eyes roll back into his head as he softly murmurs, “I love you too.”

He opens his eyes, then closes them again. Each time his eyes close, it signals his subconscious mind to trust her, to love her, to open up and let her in. He knows he wants this, he checked himself in because he trusts his decision. He knows he needs help now. He knows he needs her help.

“The more you sink into this feeling, the more you might feel compelled to trust me or tell me everything.”

Her eyes lock onto his, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “You realize,” she begins, her voice a soft, mesmerizing whisper, “that our bond is unique. You can either admit that I’m forever etched in your mind or accept that nothing else can satisfy you.”

She trails her fingers gently down his cheek, her touch sending shivers through his body. “Every time you come back to me, you understand more deeply that only I can fulfill your desires, or you feel an irresistible pull to always want more.”

He gazes into her eyes, feeling the truth of her words seep into his very soul.

The room fades into darkness, and you drift into a deep, dreamless sleep, her touch and voice lingering in your mind, a reminder of your complete submission.

Last night on the Red Carpet for Comic Con.