Chapter 2: Regulatory Capture
It only took the threat of more tattoos to get Lara to offer her body willingly to the nurses when they came back to finish their work on her first set.
In the following sessions, they didn't even bother restraining her. Instead, they just ordered her to remain still. For Lara, it was a subtle blow to her independence, like she was starting to acquiesce to their demands. She knew that acquiescence was a bad path to go down, and would only lead to more bold requests, but she didn't have a lot of options here.
They finished her unwanted tattoos, complete with their names in Hindi and Mandarin text, and left her alone. She used her healing to track the amount of time she had been there, along with things such as hair growth and feedings. Those were her best markers since the lighting in her cell was always the same. The only thing that broke up the monotony of her day-to-day life was her feeding and toileting.
It made Lara groan to think about the toileting.
To her dismay, Nurse Cerys expected her to use the bedpan each time she needed to relieve herself. Solid and liquid waste both, and she wasn't even allowed to wipe herself afterwards! Even after they had released her from the straitjacket, Nurse Cerys insisted on wiping Lara clean. As much as she wanted to fight back, she remembered the incident with the tattoos, and it squelched any urge to assert herself. She had no doubts that they did the tattoos to show her the "short sharp shock."
Lara's tattoos were fully healed when she learned what Nurse Cerys meant by "amative ink."
She discovered it accidentally one day when she was stroking the marking on her left ring finger. As she brushed it, she felt a pleasant shiver run down her spine, and it made her give a little inhalation of pleasure. At first she couldn't believe it, but further experimentation confirmed her worst suspicions: each one of those artful tattoos on her body were some kind of erogenous zone now!
Lara thought it was best if she didn't play with them, but this resolve didn't last long. The first problem was that no matter how she lied on her bed, one or more of her tattoos would brush against the feathery pink fabric or against another part of her body. They never allowed her to sleep for very long; four hours at most she guessed, and each time the fabric touched some of her ink it would give her some much-needed stimulation.
She was strong-willed to begin with, but the boredom eventually got the best of her, and she found herself stroking the ink-blot feather that rested on her breast with curiosity. Mostly she did this to pass the time, but it also provoked within her a girlish thrill, and reminded her of having a crush on someone. The stocking-shaped one on her upper thigh created a different sensation; more urgent and sexual. She tried not to play with that one very much; the more she touched it, the more she wanted to masturbate to pass the time. The one on her back was unique in that it gave her a sense of security and well-being. Altogether it was confusing, and there was literally no one for her to ask about any of these things. Nurse Cerys would smile at her, but kept the conversation to a minimum - she was lucky if she got to say how she was doing that day.
Lara was reminded of a rat in a cage, that would choose to press a button whose sole purpose was to administer an electric shock just to have something to do. She was spending more and more of her days stroking her tattoos, and it definitely shaped her daydreams more than she cared to admit.
Nurse Cerys would give Lara a sort of sponge bath once every few days, rubbing her entire body with hot, moist towels and using a sort of dry shampoo on her hair. It didn't escape Lara's notice that having another person touch her tattoos provoked a much stronger reaction - she nearly gasped each time the blonde would rub a confident hand across her delicate flesh. Like everything else, Lara was not permitted to do this herself; she merely offered different parts of her body to the young nurse, who had a very firm and comforting touch. The nurse would finish by rubbing some kind of cream on Lara's tattoos that seemed to speed the healing process immensely, frustrating her efforts to track time that way.
After what she guessed to be the second week, it was time for her intake interview.
Nurse Cerys came into the room, and eased Lara into another straitjacket, complete with her usual white micro panties and sleek crotch strap. Lara became truly excited as she realized she was about to leave her cell for the first time! She could feel her heart beat in her temples as she stepped one bare foot over the threshold of her prison into a narrow hallway.
The only thing new here was the floor; it was tile rather than whatever padded material that made up her home for these past several weeks. Lara was desperate for new sensations, but the tile was warmed to be room temperature, so the only difference was the hardness of it. Even such a minor thing was cause for joy, though. For the first time in her life, Lara was mindful of every sensation of her feet touching a hard floor.
The walls were uniformly padded, and the long hallway was so undifferentiated that it gave her no idea of how many other cells there were like hers. That same pink light filled this place too, and Lara made sure to count her steps to at least have some idea of the size of this place.
She was hoping to see more of the facility to being making a map in her mind, but she was disappointed. As soon as she and Nurse Cerys got to the end of the hallway, a door opened and lead to some kind of psychologist's office. All of the details of this place were a breath of fresh air for the girl; an actual wooden desk! Books on shelves! A color scheme of emerald and oak! Unfortunately, the large windows located behind the desk were frosted glass so she could not see outside, but she was ecstatic to have all these new sights after so long in that horrid, bland room.
Her excitement eclipsed her anger at these people for all that they had done to her - she was a far cry from making demands to talk to her solicitor now. In the back of her mind, she knew this was probably Stockholm Syndrome kicking in, but she would do almost anything to get out of that spirit-breaking cell. In so many ways, she had learned her best bet was to be compliant, at least in the short-term.
She took a seat on the little wooden stool and remained still as Nurse Cerys attached the leather cuffs to her ankles again, latching them on to a rather sturdy-looking metal eye that was fastened into the ground. There was no way she was repeating her last trick, that was for sure.
After a little bit, a short Asian woman came into the room. She was carrying a paper coffee cup, and the rich aroma of the stuff filled the room and made Lara's mouth water - coffee was one of her favorite things. The woman took a seat behind her desk, and addressed Lara.
"This is only an intake interview," the woman began in a cordial, almost dismissive tone, "so we will keep it very short, then you can return to holding."
Already, Lara felt her spirits fall. She was so desperate to talk to someone! Anyone, about anything! The woman seemed to pick up on this.
"Well, or we could make it a full session! It just depends on your level of disclosure. I understand that you have been violent and short-tempered in the past. Are you willing to cooperate today?"
Lara nodded her head, causing the doctor to smile. She sipped her drink, and Lara was green with envy as she watched the woman enjoy the delicious beverage.
"Very good! Let's do this get-to-know-you exercise. Why don't you pretend that you are a character in a television program that I've never seen before. And you describe yourself to me; what your goals are, your likes and dislikes, a brief history.
"Oh, and nurse, loosen her ankle bindings and get her a real chair! She seems like she is better-behaved today."
"Yes, Doctor."
Lara was smart enough to see this supposed act of kindness for what it really was. These people had been tormenting her for weeks, she wasn't about to be taken in by a softer chair! But as her bare thighs touched the seat that Nurse Cerys had offered her, she noticed that it had the same texture as her solitary cell; frilly and slightly too yielding. Her fear of being sent back to that room grew immensely, and Lara was a little more forthcoming.
"I am Lara Abington," she began,
"I am the sole heir to the Abington fortune. My father..."
She couldn't bring herself to mention him. Hoping the doctor wouldn't prod her, she changed the subject.
