1. Shattered Memories ch4


    Date: 4/16/2018, Categories: Fiction, Straight Sex, Non-Erotic, Teen, Author: Bleargh, Source: sexstories.com

    I sat there, silently, staring at my one hundred and nine scratches on the wall. I took a deep breath, trying to stabilise my will, to keep going. Yesterday... Yesterday had hurt. A pain I hadn't felt in months. Not since I last saw her. Not since I got here. I sighed, standing up, when a rattle on the door jeans me out of my reverie. Peering through the plexiglass, I could see a man flanked by two of the orderlies of 'East End Asylum for the Criminally Insane'. I sighed, focusing on the man. He was somewhat short, shorter than both me and the orderlies (who were huge). He wore circular spectacles and a stethoscope was draped around his shoulders. Everything about him screamed 'shrink'. I sighed again. "Step back from the door and place your hands upon the opposing wall, feet two shoulder lengths apart.' The monotonic voice came from a pre-recorded message playing through a speaker. I did as instructed, not willing to invoke the wrath of the orderlies. I could beat a few up, but they'd just overwhelm me with numbers. Plus, what was the point? They were just doing their job. The door clanged loudly as the heavy electronic lock accepted the biometrics and key cards of the left orderly. I fought the desire to take a look at my... Caregivers. "Slowly place your hands above your head, clasped together." Christ, I hate straightjackets. They slipped it over me, before zipping it up tightly. Satisfied that I was now contained, they led me to the door, where the shrink was waiting. ...
    "Good to see you again, Mr. Hill. How are you feeling?" "As well as a person stuck inside a cell can be, I guess." "Solitary confinement won't be necessary for much longer if you keep up your good behaviour." "What, is that supposed to be some kind of incentive? Thanks, but no thanks. I kinda like my cell. Better than mingling with the crazies who inhabit this place." The shrink looked a bit miffed at my rejection. He probably wasn't used to such... An unenthusiastic response. "I'm sure you mean the rest of the crazies," he replied. I didn't miss a beat. He was implying I was insane. As long as he could keep diagnosing me with... Whatever he had me diagnosed for, I wouldn't be able to leave. I had no doubt that Sarah wasn't going to simply let me waltz out of this place, but I wasn't even sure she knew I was here. Those details were still fuzzy. Glancing at the doctor, I figured I should play nice, just to see where it got me. If I wanted confinement, all I had to do was throw a punch, after all. "Look, doc... I'm sure you can understand that this place stresses me out. My fellow... Patients stress me out. I don't really want to risk mingling with them, if you can see where I'm coming from." "Oh, yes. I understand how you feel, but it is important to socialise as part of your recovery." "Umm... I don't really know what to say to that. By the way, I didn't catch your name." "Oh, call me Doctor Smith." I threw a sarcastic grin his way. "Haha, Doctor Smith, huh? Not one John ...
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