Tales From the Psych Ward 02: I'm Baaaaac

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It's so nice to be insane

No one asks you to explain

Radio by your side, Angie Baby

Angie Baby, you're a special lady

Living in a world of make-believe

Well, maybe...

From the song "Angie Baby" written by Alan O'Day and sung by Helen Reddy in 1974

This series of stories is inspired from my own struggle with marginal Borderline Personality Disorder, but none of the persons, incidents, or depictions are real - in everyday reality or in my own personal realities. Each story stands on its own, but uses characters and references from other stories in the series. You might understand this story better if you have read "Of One Mind."

The over-riding theme of the series is BDSM, so I am posting them here, even though some of the individual stories more properly belong in fantasy... but then, isn't the "Borderline" between bondage and fantasy rather blurred anyway?

The Technician

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To make a long story short, people who don't know me very well think I have catatonic epilepsy. The shrinks think it is catatonic schizophrenia. In other words they think that I totally lose contact with reality and go off into some fantasy world in my head. What none of them seem to understand is that it isn't fantasy, and it isn't in my head. It is reality, my reality - and part of my reality includes occasionally going catatonic in public.

Being a zombie in a public place means police and court involvement so I have to keep seeing a court-authorized shrink to stay out of legal trouble - or at least minimize it. I have been assigned to Dr. Susan Barrington.

Recently Dr. Susan - she insists I call her by her first name but use the title - recently she found out that I was writing stories for the internet. She blew a gasket and demanded that I bring in my laptop and all my backup disks.

She read the stories and said that she could not allow me to descend further into my psychosis and insisted that I delete all my accounts and erase my stories from my hard drive. She kept the backups. (She didn't say anything about the memory stick I had hidden at home, so I still have my stories.) She also committed me for a 72 hour observation citing that I was possibly a danger to myself.

I have never hurt myself. When Wayne comes, he sometimes hurts me. When I am Kelly, Wayne sometimes hurts me and sometimes he has others hurt me. But I never hurt myself.

60 hours into the 3 day observation I went catatonic. I returned with bruises and whip marks all over my body. Dr. Susan tried to get me to explain how I had hurt myself. I told her, but she wouldn't listen. Wayne had come and gotten me. He took me to a club somewhere. Kelly and I were up on a stage. I was taped to her with something that looked like black duct tape. It was thick and tore like duct tape, but it was black.

She was suspended in some sort of frame by her wrists so that her toes barely touched the ground. There were poles on either side of her and a bar above her head from which chains led to her wrist binder cuffs. Her ankles were spread and held by short chains to the poles that supported the bar above her head. My wrists were attached to chains hanging from the same bar, but I was not pulled up off my feet.

A young blond girl had come up on stage. She was nude except for a belt holding dildos in place in her cunt and her ass and a tight leather belt cinching down her breasts. She took my prick into her mouth and fluffed me until I was hard. Then she guided my hard-on into Kelly's anus.

At that point Wayne came up on stage and taped us together. He wound tape around us so that Kelly's tit's were practically covered with tape. Then he wound tape around our waists and separately on our thighs and on our lower legs and even on our arms. After inspecting his work, he turned to the audience and said, "It is time for the fun to begin."

With that he inserted a large metal dildo into Kelly's pussy and clipped something to her nipples. Both the dildo and the nipple clamps had wires trailing from them. I thought he would connect the wires to some sort of tens unit, but instead he connected them to floor. As I looked down I realized that the entire structure that we were hanging from was welded to a huge metal plate on the floor. The wires connected to screw terminals which protruded from the plate near the base of the support poles.

Wayne stepped behind me with a large metal paddle. It had holes drilled in it like a punishment paddle, but it also had a wire leading from the handle back into the darkness. I don't know if there was some sort of switch mechanism in the handle or the voltage was always on, but when he swatted my ass it hurt twice. First there was the intense pain of the paddle itself, and on top of that was the pain of the electricity surging through me and into Kelly.

Some of the current flowed through my legs into the floor plate, but most of it went through my prick into Kelly's ass. Her screams confirmed that she also felt the voltage in her ass and in her pussy and on her nipples.

I heard the audience shout something, but wasn't able to tell what it was. Wayne hit again and again and again. My body would spasm with each stroke as the current caused my muscles to tighten. Kelly's muscles were also tightening because I could feel her anus clench around my prick.

At one point my head snapped further back than normal and I was able to see some sort of clock or counter above our heads. Suddenly I could understand what the audience was yelling. Each time Wayne smacked us, the counter would click down one number. They were counting down the swats. Finally, when I thought I could stand no more, I heard "Ten... Nine... Eight... Seven... Six..." At that point I started to cum. I think Kelly could feel me filling her ass with cum because she clenched down tightly and stayed clenched while giving out a continuous moaning yell. I was still shuddering when the audience yelled "Zero," and suddenly I was back in my room at the ward.

I told Dr. Susan everything. She listened politely as doctors always do and then asked me again how I had hurt myself so badly in the room and what I had used. I repeated my story to her twice more. At the end of the first repetition, she asked once more how I had hurt myself. At the end of the second repetition she just sighed and spoke into her little recorder, "Recommending 60 day in house treatment...."

I was 45 days into my treatment when Wayne came to see me. He was laughing. "We really have to get you out of here, don't we? Kelly is really upset that you have been locked away. She doesn't think that it is fair, and she says that she knows how to get you released." Wayne then smiled and said, "I've checked the schedules and made some arrangements. We have another performance tomorrow night and I think you will enjoy it."

I dreaded the next evening coming. I had no idea what Wayne was planning. Dr. Susan stopped by around 8:00 pm, which was unusual, but she explained that the normal staff psychiatrist was on vacation and she was covering overnight duty for a couple of days. As she left she called back over her shoulder, "I'll see you in the morning for our session. Have a good night."

It wasn't a good night. About ten o'clock Wayne suddenly came into the room and said, "Showtime!" and I was back at the club hanging as I had been hanging the time before. The blond girl again came onto the stage and fluffed me so I could be inserted into Kelly's ass, but as Wayne was guiding me into her anus I realized that there was something different about Kelly. Her hair wasn't right. The height was just a little bit different. The slave collar was brown rather than black. And she was gagged. Kelly never needed to be gagged. Something wasn't right.

Wayne again inserted the metal dildo and attached the nipple clamps and picked up his electric paddle. This time I clearly heard the audience shout "100" as Wayne's first stroke hit. It was as bad or even worse than it had been the first time and Kelly, or whoever it was, reacted even more strongly than before. She writhed in pain and screamed into her gag with each swat. However, after about 20 or so swats she was moaning differently. It didn't sound like cries of pain. It sounded more like a building orgasm. As we neared 50 strikes of the electric paddle she began to cum. She ground herself back into me and tried to pull me deeper into herself. By the time the audience finally cried, "Zero" she had orgasmed numerous times and I had surprisingly cum at least twice. I awoke on my bed back in the ward drenched in sweat, my ass and thighs a mass of welts. "Oh shit," I thought. "How am I going to explain this to Dr. Susan. I will never get out of here."

After my morning shower, I was told that Dr. Susan wanted to talk to me in her office. As I entered her office she was seated behind her desk. It must have been a bad night on the ward because she looked like she hadn't slept all night. In fact, she really looked like hell.

"Sit down," she began. "I want you to tell me more about Wayne and Kelly. What I specifically want to know is if he comes when you call him, or does he just show up sometimes?"

I explained that I had no control at all over Wayne or Kelly. They just showed up when they showed up. Dr. Susan looked disappointed for some reason and then she asked, "Do you enjoy what Wayne does to you?"

"I'm not sure," I replied. "What he does is painful, but at the same time it gives me intense pleasure. I don't think you understand that."

"Oh, I understand more than your realize," she responded. "I have learned a great deal about you recently. I don't think I am the right doctor for you. I am transferring your case to Dr. Henderson. He and I have discussed your problems and have agreed that it would be better if you were treated as an outpatient under his supervision. He has also read your stories and has agreed that they are abusive, but that they might be a good outlet for your fantasies, so you will be allowed to resume your net writings. You will be released after breakfast. Do you have any questions?"

I said, "No," but actually I did have several questions. I really wanted to ask, "Dr. Susan, why are there bruises around your wrists?" I wanted to ask, "Why do you look so uncomfortable as you sit in your chair?" And most of all I wanted to ask, "Why is there a brown leather dog collar sitting on the corner of your desk with a little gold nameplate on it that says, 'Suzie'?"

Anyway, that's how I remember it. Dr. Henderson says all that occurred was that Dr. Susan realized that she was over-reacting to my strange sexual fantasies and felt that I would be better served by a male doctor. That's how he remembers it, but then, he has his reality, and I have mine.

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END OF STORY

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