Carnal Nights 03: New Day

Author's Note: Just wanted to take a minute to thank everyone for their feedback!

This one picks up right where we left off in the last episode, with a bit of a change of scenery and the first story level down. As promised, the change of scenery comes with some new fetish topics and a disclaimer. In addition to the chastity, tease and denial, and female domination, expect to see some light medical play, suggested CNC, and CBT. Enjoy!

Carnal Nights: Part 3 A New Day

Dennis mumbled and stuttered until Amy slipped her toes in the loop at the end of his leash and gave it a tug. Dennis jolted forward a bit, and caught one of Amy's eyebrows raising. He'd never seen his wife like this. Sure, she was in control last night and this morning, but it felt more playful and experimental than it did now. It was almost as if she'd discovered a new dimension of her personality, and could shift in and out of it at will. Dennis was kept constantly off balance as she switched between the cold sadist and the playful girlboss. He did the best he could to get a grip on the situation, picked up his phone, and opened the story he wrote.

"The name of the story is 'New Day Clinic', its an original that I wrote for you today. I really hope you like it." Dennis stammered. Amy's eyes sparkled as she stared back at him. He kept his eyes on his phone and began reading.

'At 22 years old, I was a failure. It was really no surprise considering my heritage, that I would turn out to be a homeless junky. When my parents died, first my mother of a heroin overdose, then my father in a drunken car wreck, I was almost relieved. I had spent the first eleven years of my life watching my parents slowly kill themselves, and when it finally happened one after the other, and I was taken in by my grandmother, my life generally improved. That's not to say that I was ever a great student, or a great adopted son, but for the first time in my life, I felt like I wasn't on my own. I no longer had to worry where my next meal would come from, or if it would come at all. No more was I haunted by the sound of my mother flicking glassine bags or my fathers drunk rages.

That's not to say life with my grandmother was a picnic either. It was tough to get accustomed to a household with rules and a guardian that made sure I made it to school every day, even when I didn't want to go. It took a solid year before both of us adjusted to the new living situation, and both my freshman and sophomore years of high school were great. Then Gram got sick. For a long time, the doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong, but it didn't change the fact that she was having difficulty moving around and was in constant pain. The cancer diagnosis came about a year later, and most of my senior year of high school, our roles had reversed. I stepped up to become the caregiver in the relationship and I did everything I could to try to help out. After graduation, that role as a caregiver became full time, college or a job were both out of the question. At times, the doctors gave us hope, but her condition continued to decline until she finally passed about 18 months after I had graduated high school.

Again, I was alone, although a bit more equipped than I had been as a child. Gram left her entire estate to me, including the house and a big chunk of money in escrow, to cover property tax and utilities, and savings. I wish I could say that I took these advantages and used them toward a successful life, but the opposite is true. The loss of my grandmother sent me spiraling out of control. I embraced drugs and alcohol with every fiber of my being along with the social group that attended them. My friend group blossomed as I tried to find companions to replace my lost family.

For the first few months I was successful in numbing my sorrows, but gradually, fun began to turn to dependence. By the end of the first year without Gram, my social life started to wither while my use of chemical happiness bloomed. What started with booze and pot, quickly mutated into pills and coke, then heroin and crack. More and more, I found myself getting fucked up alone, until aside from a few loyal junky's, my friends had vanished. When my 21st birthday rolled around, I was pawning anything I could find around the house to fund my substantial habit, and when I celebrated my 22nd, there was nothing left to pawn and I turned to petty theft and subsistence dealing. Even the "loyal junkies" stayed away, the prospect of a warm place to shoot up was no longer worth the risk of my thieving ways.

It was at this point, when I had no one and nowhere left to turn, that I even considered the idea of getting help. I remember that day in vivid detail despite the drug induced haze. It was an unseasonably warm, sunny, October day. I didn't get any sleep the night before because I was too busy thrashing around in bed with restless legs or sprinting for the bathroom. Around sunrise, with nothing else to do but suffer withdrawals, I opened the browser on my phone and started searching for treatment clinics and drug rehabs. Even though I had a place to live, I was still broke and had no insurance, so the options were limited. The free state institutions always had a wait list, their offices didn't open for a few hours anyway. I kept scrolling, and buried in the results was a seemingly normal page that seemed to check all the boxes. I clicked and started reading:

"A New Day is a for-profit drug rehabilitation center that guarantees a cure for the disease of addiction! No insurance or guarantee of payment necessary! Our state of the art facilities offer a luxury environment for patients to detox, address the root of their substance abuse problems, and find a meaningful life. We employ some of the best psychiatric and medical doctors in the hemisphere on the subject of addiction recovery to treat our patients with the best care. But it doesn't stop there! Once treatment is completed, we provide career training and job placement as well as relocation services. Our clinics operate in all fifty states, and our specialized career training facilities are set up all over the US and Canada. Contact us below to experience A New Day!"

I couldn't believe what I was reading. Part of the reason I never sought treatment was the horror stories I had heard of state run and religious facilities, the only free ones available. A New Day sounded like paradise in comparison. I thumbed through the photo gallery, the place seemed more like a resort than a medical facility. There had to be a catch, but I would be lying if I said there was any drawback that I wouldn't accept with a smile just to put an end to the suffering. I looked for a phone number and office hours, but found nothing. I tapped the chat icon on their webpage and rolled over, expecting a response during "normal business hours", but before I could get back to thrashing around in bed, my phone chimed.

"Hello, are you looking for information for yourself or a loved one?" The message read.

"It's for me. I was wondering how long the program is, and if you have any beds open, if not, how long is the wait list?"

"The length of the program is entirely up to the patient, each patient is kept as long, or as short as necessary to ensure a permanent end to their addiction and substance abuse issues. More generally, the average stat is currently 9 days in the detox facility and 46 days in the rehabilitation center. Currently there are no waitlists, nationwide. If you would fill out a short questionnaire, I could have a shuttle dispatched to pick you up in two hours."

"Just so you know, I don't have any insurance, or money." I typed back.

"That's no problem at all! We offer a more than reasonable financing plan which will be discussed in detail during the intake process." Included with the message was a link to the questionnaire. "If you would please fill this out and submit it in the next thirty minutes, I can have you scheduled for pickup on our morning docket. Once I see you've submitted, I'll provide instructions on what you need to have ready when the shuttle arrives."

I was a bit hesitant, but clicked the link anyway. What's the worst that could happen? They steal my identity? Yeah, good luck, they could have fun talking to debt collectors.

The questions were straightforward; date of birth: 3-16-02, Age: 22, height: 5'8", weight: 135lb, hair color: blonde, eye color: blue, gender: Male, race: Caucasian, etc. It asked for basic financial information, career stuff, and the normal medical questions. I breezed through it and hit submit.

"Thank you! Welcome to A New Day. Your shuttle will arrive at 7:49AM. Please be ready to go when they arrive. All clothing and necessary items are provided by the facilities, and patients are prohibited from bringing any personal items aside from what they are wearing at pickup. We strongly recommend that patients dress comfortably and shower prior to our arrival. Good luck on your New Day, your intake escorts will be able to answer any questions you may have when they arrive!"

I looked at the clock, 6:04AM. I grabbed a pair of sweatpants, boxer briefs, and a T-shirt and headed into the bathroom. I then proceeded to take a long, hot shower. When my skin turned pruney and I ran out of things to wash, I stepped out, dressed, and sat by the window closest to the front door to wait for my ride. At exactly 7:48AM, a black BMW pulled up in front of the house. A tall man in his 30's with a chestnut complexion and dark close cropped hair stepped out of the driver's seat followed by a short, skinny woman, also in her thirties, with blonde hair and brown eyes from the passenger side. The woman was holding an iPad, and both had on short sleeve medical scrubs, baby blue in color. I swung the door open before they even had a chance to knock.

"Good morning, you must be Salvatore Dilello. My name is Kelsey, and this is Brad, we're your intake escorts! It's great to meet you!" The woman said.

I was nervous and shaky, but managed to squeak out a good morning.

"First things first, we need a before picture, so take a step back for me real quick, and... Got it." Before I could move, Kelsey stepped back and snapped a picture with her tablet. "These aren't just important for us to prove our program works, they're also for you to be able to see the positive changes! Now, may we come in? I know you've got questions, but its easier if we get all this paperwork done, I'll probably answer most of them in the process anyway." She stepped past me into the living room and wandered around taking pictures. Brad waited until I turned back into the house and followed me. "Okay, I think I've got everything as far as pictures go, now for the questions."

I had to admit, Kelsey was extremely attractive, and she had a super bubbly and vibrant personality. I did the best that I could to keep up with her.

"First question, do you rent or own this place?" She asked.

"I own it outright, my grandmother left it to me along with an escrow to cover the taxes and insurance for 12 more years." I explained. "How come you needed to take pictures of the inside of the house?"

"A few reasons really, for one, we send a cleaning crew out while you're in detox to do a deep clean and remove any controlled substances or paraphernalia. That way when you come home, there's no potential temptations. The other reason is that many of our clients choose to relocate, and when they do, our in-house real estate team takes care of everything involved in the move, including packing everything up and breaking the lease or selling the house." She paused. "On that note, could you show me where you keep all of the documentation for the house as well as any vehicles?"

I walked her into my grandmother's old bedroom and showed her the safe. "Very good. Just need some photo ID and we can head out!"

I ran into the bedroom, pulled my license from my wallet and handed it to her. She looked at it, compared me with the photo, smiled, and pocketed it. "Don't worry, I won't lose it. Your license will go with your file in case you need it." She said, marching back out the front door. "I almost forgot, leave any car keys and your wallet with your documents, and give me a set of keys to the house and hand over your cellphone. Make sure you lock the doors on the way out." She shouted, almost halfway to the car already.

I did what she said, then sprinted out the door. Brad followed me a few paces behind, making sure the door was locked. He then opened the rear passenger seat for me and closed it once I sat down. Brad hopped into the driver's seat and we were on our way. "So uh, how far is the facility? I'm uh, not exactly in the best condition." I asked.

"Don't worry, it's only about a 30 minute ride. If you start to feel sick, there are plastic bags in the pouch on the back of my seat, help yourself. If you're really feeling sick, shout and we can pull over." Kelsey answered. "You're very lucky to be in an area where we have several intake and detox facilities. Out west especially, they're a lot more spread out, and I've heard some horror stories of patients in severe withdrawal faced with three or four our rides."

I watched the Philadelphia suburbs pass us by, and as promised, 30 minutes later we were pulling into the lot of a nondescript warehouse. As we came around the building, I noticed that there were no trucks at any of the loading docks, nor was there a single truck on the property. The warehouse was fairly small compared to some of the massive ones we saw on the drive in, and of the normal construction; Gray concrete painted with white overlays, an office section at one corner with a tinted glass facade and blue metallic window trim. We drove down the row of loading docks until we reached the ramp at the end and drove up the ramp, stopping at a closed overhead door. Brad tapped a few times on his phone, then put his fingerprint in, and the door began to slowly creep open. The dark interior was obscured by the glare of the sun outside and it felt like we were driving into a black hole. As we crossed the threshold, the interior became visible.

Inside was one of the strangest things I had ever seen. Directly to our right, was an entire building, or what appeared to be. The brown brick facade of what looked like a standard office building ran the width and height of the warehouse and directly ahead was a small parking lot of 10 spots. The polished concrete floors had been painted to resemble asphalt, it even had paneling covering the walls and ceiling. The ceiling resembled the sky, light blue interspersed with wispy cloud formations. On the walls, scenes of a small office park were painted in panorama.

Brad pulled into one of the vacant parking spots and stepped out of the vehicle, he walked around the car, opened my door and helped me out, then did the same for Kelsey.

"Follow us," Kelsey said, "We're going in that main entrance there for your intake, it should be pretty quick. Just some papers to sign to authorize medical treatment, then a short medical exam. Don't worry though hun, we have a doctor and pharmacy on site, so once the exam is done, they'll get you the medications you'll need to make you comfortable through your withdrawals."

At this point, I was beginning to understand that Brad was there as some sort of security. He may have said three words the entire time, and he always kept me within reach of his muscular arms. "So uh, what happens if I change my mind and decide I don't want treatment?" I asked, watching Brad out of the corner of my eye.

"As of right now, you're under no obligation to stay. I guess you're wondering why you're being escorted by a security professional. It's pretty straightforward, not everyone comes here voluntarily, sometimes a patient's parent or guardian, or a loved one with power of attorney will have them committed. We have people like Brad here to help in case a patient tries to forcibly leave, or attack the escorting nurse. You can never be too careful, especially when it comes to behavioral expectations of someone under the influence. Don't worry though, you're self-enrolled, so if you change your mind at any time, we'll take you home and reach out periodically to check on you." Kelsey chimed in.

Well that's a relief, I thought to myself. We reached the entrance and again, Brad opened and held the door for us. Inside was a small waiting room with a single desk attended by a receptionist. The woman behind the desk was dressed in baby blue scrubs as well. She was thin, late 20's, with long brown hair and a heart melting smile.

"Good morning Salvatore, welcome to A New Day! My name is Jill, and I'll be taking over for Kelsey and Brad. But don't worry, they aren't going anywhere until you officially start the detox program and move into your new short term residence. Your first appointment will be with Ms. Jamie, our resident intake nurse along with a visit from Dr. Rydel. Ms. Jamie will give you a quick physical to assess your general health condition, then you'll have a consultation with Dr. Rydel. Since we maintain an on-staff doctor and pharmacist, they'll be able to provide you with, and fill, prescriptions for whatever they deem necessary to ensure that your detox time is as comfortable as possible."

"What sort of prescriptions?" I asked.

"Generally speaking, patients detoxing from heroin, like yourself, are put on a Suboxone taper with a total duration of 7 days." Explained Jill. "Moving on, after the medical portion of the intake process, you'll meet with your counselor and career consultant. It looks like you've been assigned to Ms. Danielle. You'll have plenty of time with her to ask any questions you might have." Jill picked up the phone, dialed a number and hung up without speaking. Seconds later an older, heavyset woman with graying blonde hair opened the door next to the reception desk and called my name.

This is it, I thought. I felt like absolute shit, and the prospect alone of some relief began to ease the cold sweats and stomach cramps. I followed who I assumed was Ms. Jamie down the sterile hallway and into an exam room.

"Morning Sal, I know you're probably suffering a bit, so the plan is to make this exam as quick and painless as possible so we can start treating your withdrawal symptoms. I'm going to step out to get a set of clean supplies, while I'm gone, go ahead and undress, including your underwear. There's scrub shorts and a paper gown on the exam table, make sure to place your clothes in that bin next to the sink." She said as she stepped out of the room.

I stripped naked and threw my stuff in the bin, and put on the thin shorts. I decided against the gown, as it seemed pointless. A few minutes later Ms. Jill returned. She quickly rushed through what amounted to a full physical, then sent me into the adjoining restroom for a urine sample. She then took blood samples and a few measurements, entering all the information into a tablet as she went along. We discussed the current withdrawal symptoms and history of symptoms. Once complete, Ms. Jill tapped something into the tablet, and a few seconds later a male doctor, Dr. Rydel, knocked and entered.

Again, we discussed symptoms, he did a very brief exam to confirm Jill's notes, reviewed the information and started typing on his own tablet. He explained the things he was prescribing and why, and laid out a 7 day detox plan including detailed accounting of prescriptions and dosages. Ms. Jill disappeared, leaving me to discuss things with the doctor and returned a few moments later with a bottle of water and a small paper cup with several different pills in it. She handed me an orange film first, instructing me to place it under my tongue to dissolve, verified that I had done just that, then made sure that I took and swallowed the remaining pills.