Committed 2

"…So this building was built in 1887. Originally, it was a sanatorium, although 'sanatorium' might be a little euphemistic; it was, in fact, an institution where affluent families sent family members suffering from 'psychoses' to 'recuperate' outside of the public eye. The intentions were laudable — comparatively — but in terms of modern standards the level of care provided was… Well, a tad barbaric perhaps. Not long after the turn of the century the sanatorium went bankrupt and the building was abandoned…

"Hold on a moment, I'm going to go ahead to make sure the entrance hall has no patients being moved. Enjoy this lovely autumn sun while you wait; I won't be long."

"They really are dead serious about privacy." Anna noted.

"Little wonder, if what the director— sorry, she insists on being called 'directrix' doesn't she? If what the

directrix

said about the type of people committed here as patients is true… CEOs of megacorporations, eccentric millionaires… And not just men either…"

"And you, Sean." she laughed.

Anna and Sean were being given a personal tour of Anánke — the

Anánke Psychosexual Institute for the Treatment of Exceptional Paraphiliac Disorders

, in full — by directrix Kovaleva. The impressive old building where this extraordinary institution was housed stood in a remote location nestled within the densely forested foothills of the Carpathian Mountains, some 90 kilometres South of Lviv. The dark brick walls with its tall windows gave the building an imposing presence; a presence further augmented by the guarded gateway in front of which they now stood.

While the institute's history was undoubtedly fascinating, and despite the relaxed welcome, Sean was nervous. Anna and Sean did not come here as tourists after all. The directrix had invited them over to ascertain Sean's fitness to be committed to the institute. Sean was healthy, physically active, stable, financially independent, en on top of that married to a handsome, intelligent wife. Yet beneath this facade an intense kinky desire lingered.

"I'm frankly amazed something like this even exists." Sean said.

"Yeah. It's right exclusive too. We wouldn't even be here without our in."

"That 'in' being your rich boyfriend Lars."

"Being, Lars, my

bull

, being the man who, unlike you, gets to fuck me silly. Besides, the two of you are friends. You're just teasing because you're jealous, which… is exactly what turns you on."

Sean felt his penis harden to the, quite limited, extent this was possible in the metal chastity cage he wore on an almost permanent basis — and for which only Anna held the key — and he conceded the point.

Anna and Sean were no beginners in facilitating each others, divergent, sexual preferences. Soon after the fell in love, their shared interest in BDSM was revealed, and, rather awkwardly, their mutual sexually submissive nature. For Sean a fantasy of strict compulsory chastity was a stepping stone for a gradual escalation towards actually wearing a chastity device almost constantly. Toying around with a novelty plastic sex toy intended for a little foreplay ended with a bespoke stainless steel chastity cage which effectively (quite effectively) prevented having an erection; never mind being able to masturbate or using his member to penetrate Anna. The Prince Albert piercing he had placed for this purpose, goaded by Anna, further enhanced the security of the device, preventing him from pulling his member out without the key.

As his keyholder, Anna lovingly obliged, but was initially hesitant to take it to the level of permanent chastity; she was quite fond of Sean's penis for her own pleasure. Conveniently, her own fantasies provide a pragmatic solution. The idea of getting fucked by other men appealed to her — actually dominant men, to be precise. If Sean could indulge his submissiveness in this way, this would be with the explicit consequence of her sleeping with other men. A practical approach which worked out well for this submissive couple.

"Would you follow me now?"

Straight, shoulder length dark hair and a white lab coat worn over timelessly elegant skirt suit lent the directrix an impressive appearance. Even without the half rim metal frame of her glasses and the clipboard holding the essentials submitted by Anna and Sean for their visit, she had an air of authority about her — which she nevertheless employed to put the couple at ease. She preceded the couple through the gates into the entrance hall.

"Djákuju, Ludmila"

The tour commenced in the entrance hall, where nurse Ludmila retook her post at the security desk. The directrix briefly explained about the camera surveillance, the strict protocols governing access to the various wards, and the composition of the staff. Next she took the couple to one of the wards in the building not currently in use.

"This is a quiet time of year for us. At the moment only one of our wards is in use for patients committed here. Fortunately, this gives me the opportunity to show you around without intruding on our patients' privacy. Discretion, as you can appreciate, is the cornerstone of our reputation."

They walked along a large hall lined with steel doors, and fitted with an overhead walkway. Everything about this place exuded that this was were people could be safely and effectively held against their will.

"After the Russian Revolution this building was declared a possession of the state, with an eye on turning it into an exile for those intellectuals still insisting on advancing ideas unsanctioned by the party. As far as we've been able to ascertain, preparations were made, but the plan was never put into motion. They did however appoint a young janitor in 1927, who moved in with his wife.

"For years they lived here undisturbed, performing the upkeep necessary to maintain this building. The authorities eventually lost interest in this property, but the janitor was never fired and — this we found out later — neatly declared his yearly budget and was actually reimbursed until well into 1991! Well, that was how some things were done back in those days. It did result in this building being mostly kept from the ravages of time."

Directrix Kovaleva led the couple to one of the rooms — a 'room' which looked more like a proper cell because of the heavy steel door. It was a neat, clean, bare room with a hospital bed fitted with a foldaway side in the middle and a steel storage cabinet lining one of the walls. At a second glance Sean noted that the mattress was fitted with a mint green rubber mattress protector instead of a cotton bedsheet. However had a hand in choosing the colours for this room must have been fond of a rather

vintage

minimalist medical-institutional palette of mild beiges and green accents, but Sean had his focus elsewhere. His full attention was on the wide leather belts hanging over the edge of bed. As to the purpose of these, Sean had no doubts.

"During their stay each patient has their own bedroom. In order to grant the patient an unimpeded sleep, they are dressed in our standard sleeping gear which is comprised of the usual absorbent garment, comfortable pyjamas, and an eye mask. To prevent unwarranted wandering about, the patient is restrained to the bed with these belts at the ankles and thighs, and using this harness for the upper body. We use these special mittens to fixate the patients arms at the wrist.

"When a patient is taken ill and needs to recuperate in the infirmary the same gear is used — naturally, adjusted as needed depending on the nature of the ailment. Of course if for whatever reason the patient's physical health demands it, their stay will be aborted, and should the medical care of our own team be insufficient, a transfer to the regional hospital will be effected. We have several scenarios prepared for these, and…"

"Sean?"

Hearing Anna call him quickly pulled Sean back to reality. She had followed the directrix to the next room while Sean remained staring at the leather belts as in a trance. He quickly rejoined the others with a gesture of apology.

"Every patient remains in their own personal suite for most of the time. We tend to use this one here for the so-called 'suite test' because of its secluded location in this ward." the directrix continued. "During the evaluation stay we test the patient's ability to handle their seclusion here; both the physical and mental aspects. So this is essentially the basis of our therapy: isolation, helplessness, no responsibilities nor distractions. The patient is merely required to be."

Standing on the threshold, Sean looked in feeling equal measures of shame and fascination, and he promptly concluded that 'suite' was, in any case, a bit of a misnomer. This was a cell. A cell completely covered in padded walnut leather. It was as if someone had crossbred a late nineteenth century prison with a Chesterfield sofa. Even the door was clad in this material. The sole light in this room came from dimmed, indirect light sources recessed somewhere along the high ceiling. Despite of this the cell looked invitingly comfortable.

"Oh good, nurse Alina is here. Are you ready for your test stay in this suite Sean?"

Sean could, in fact, come up with a good number of reasons why he wasn't, but one of the reasons they were here today was to undergo this test. Sean nodded affirmingly, hoping he didn't look quite as uncertain as he felt.

"I'll leave you in the capable hands of nurse Alina then. Follow her. She will take you to the entrance hall to change your attire. Follow her instructions to the letter. She will handle the rest. Later in the day you will be collected by one of the nurses for your medical check-up."

The fact that the directrix effortlessly switched to an imperative tone did not elude Sean. The rest of the tour was just for Anna.

To prepare for a stay at Anánke, prospective patients are tested on several fronts. One of these was the short quiz Anna and Sean had to take shortly after their reception, concerning the compulsory measures employed — "Yes, I know what a straitjacket is. It's not as if we don't own one or two of those and that they are a recurring feature in my fantasies…" Sean though with a twinge of annoyance he blamed on his nerves. And then there was the interview where they were tested on their understanding of what a stay here entailed — "That wasn't so hard" Sean though, "but I am feeling a bit anxious about this." The suite test Sean was going to undertake represent the hands-on part of the range of tests.

Sean dutifully followed nurse Alina, and took advantage of the situation to ogle her. Shamelessly; he had absolutely no qualms about being an irrepressible pervert.

The nurses' appearance was, in fact, a very good match to his personal preferences. He had to hand it to Lars; his suggestion that this place might be just the thing for Sean was apt. The nurse looked professional, neat, but at the same time undeniably feminine. While health care staff in normal health care facilities the world over — "Hmpf. Define normal." Sean thought — surely no longer dressed like Florence Nightingale, the staff at Anánke never seemed to have gotten the note. A mint green, tailored nurse's dress ended just above the knee, matched with a classic white apron and a starched cap pinned to her hair— Sean had to admit that the level of detail employed here matched extraordinarily well with the target demographic's preferences, without venturing into fancy dress 'sexy nurse' territory. The dress nurse Alina wore offered no view of her cleavage, nor was it made from some risqué semi-transparent fabric, or even latex.

I'll accept any inconvenience if it means I'll get cared for by nurses like Alina here. How old would she be? In her late thirties, early forties? Neat appearance, toned body, sexy shoulder length red hair in a ponytail… I wonder if she's wearing the old fashioned stockings for this uniform, or if she's cheating with a pair of tights? Hmm, so what is that? A modest B-cup I'd wager.

"Place all of your belongings in this box and strip."

Sean was jolted out of his reverie. Nurse Alina had led him to a room which looked like a small medical exam room outfitted with an exam table and the usual items such as the wall-mount height meter and the scales. The handcuffs and the ball-gag that were laid out though, Sean would not normally have expected in a room like this, but he knew that these were part of the required attire for this test. Nervously, he placed his wallet and smartphone in the box, and started on his shoes under nurse Alina's patient gaze.

OK, last item: pants. I know they're used to all forms of kink here, but it feels reeeeeally awkward to stand here naked wearing nothing but my chastity cage…

Awaiting further instructions, a nude Sean turned towards nurse Alina, who was now wearing a pair of latex gloves and proceeded to frisk him with the routine motions of a professional. With a practised eye she examined Sean's chastity cage while moving his scrotum aside to get a better look at his piercing. Sean though he saw a brief look of quiet appreciation, but the nurse quickly resumed her routine.

"Lie down here, on your back" nurse Alina said while she went towards a metal cabinet.

Sean sat himself on the exam table and lied down. The strip of exam paper rolled out for hygiene felt uncomfortable on his back. In any case, it certainly helped convey the fact that he was now a patient ("or patient-candidate?" Sean thought) rather than a participant in a tour. When nurse Alina returned with a diaper in her hand was, again, not unexpected and exactly as explained in one of the leaflets Anna and Sean received. It was, all the same, still rather intimidating, and it helped reiterate that a stay here was not something to take lightly.

I'm sure this isn't the right time to pedantically note that she picked a Tena Slip Maxi in my size, like some sort of connoisseur, I suppose… "Oh nurse, what an excellent choice. Perfect for a stay of up to four hours!" Right. Calm down. Relax. I only just went, and this is just following regulations. During an actual stay here I'll have no choice but to wear diapers most of the time. After all, you can't just pop out to the loo wearing a straitjacket— damn, all of this is turning me on… Hey, she's really skilful.

"Up."

The nurse handed him a set of disposable garments.

I'm really glad it isn't cold in here, because these paper trousers and this shirt aren't going to provide me with a lot of warmth … or discretion for that matter. At least the dark green doesn't clash with her uniform. OK, come on, focus Sean—

"A."

"A?"

Thus the brief reply of a briefly confused Sean, but the intentions of the nurse became abundantly clear when the silicone rubber ball of the ball-gag entered his mouth and conveniently prevented him from any further silly questions. Just as routinely she pulled his hands forward and snapped the handcuffs on, followed by a matching pair around his ankles.

Although Sean had read and reread the leaflet a great number of times, and he knew that this was coming, but still the fast and scarily efficient transition from observer to committed patient surprised him. No sooner had he been cuffed, than he was guided out of the room by nurse Alina taking a firm grip of his upper arm.

Moving from the warm exam room into the high-vaulted tiled corridors of the institute made Sean acutely aware of his state. The floor felt cold beneath his bare feet, and although the chain linking the ankle cuffs did not drag across the floor because of a third chain connecting it with the handcuffs, to Sean it felt as if the rattling of the chains was loud enough to announce his presence from a hundreds of yards.

At the junction between two wards nurse Alina briefly halted to notify Ludmila that she was taking her charge to the eastern ward, but she was forced to wait for Ludmila to open the outer door of the western ward where two other nurses were just coming out.

So that is the currently active ward. Wow, those nurses look dead serious and well-coordinated in their actions. Including checking out at the security desk—

Right before the outer door closed again Sean caught the sound of a persistent moaning coming from the ward, which shocked him.

All of the patients here are here because they wanted to be committed. So how long before you make those noises? Will that happen to me if I really surrender to the experience? For what is essentially a really high-class BDSM-resort, this place feels damned serious and intimidatingly real!

The nurses having finished going off-duty, Ludmila now pressed a button to grant nurse Alina access to the sally port for the eastern ward. Having passed that, and after again traversing a labyrinth of corridors, they were back at the personal suite where they started. Sean was grateful Anna and the directrix didn't wait for them here. The door stood open, inviting him in, and with a grip which left no room for argument Sean was moved over the threshold.

Soft.

Of course, the padded flooring yielded to his feet.

Before Sean could give it a second thought he heard the door close and get barred behind him. Despite the pent up excitement and anxiety, Sean felt himself calm down. He slowly made a round of his cell, and let the impressions come freely. Gently he sat himself down in a corner and tried to find a comfortable position.

It's comfortably warm in here, and so quiet. This padding dampens all sounds.

Sean let his mind wander freely, and eventually even nodded off.

Anna followed directrix Kovaleva through the various rooms and halls of the eastern ward, and by now had acquired a good grasp of how a stay here looked.

By now they had reached the block of solitary confinement cells. The cell she was shown looked exactly as one would expect in an institution so fully dedicated to its mission. Here too the walls, floor, and door were upholstered with leather stretched over a foam rubber padding with some give, preventing patients from having any way to hurt themselves. The heavy steel door was fitted with a spy hole allowing anyone outside to look in on the patient. With the door closed the cell formed a perfect cube of two metres on a side. It was a solitary confinement cell like the one you would expect to find in an asylum from bygone days. The cameras mounted below the ceiling formed a modern exception, as did the strange, knee-high device adorning the middle of one wall.

"That looks like the end of one of those drinking bottles for hamsters, but… made of rubber?"

"Well yes, that is exactly what it is, but no, not for hamsters. The nurses do lovingly call their patients 'their hamsters', at least, when they think I can't overhear them, but make no mistake, a stay in this cell really is a challenge. In addition to the physical isolation, patients naturally wear their straitjacket, but also the full head gear with the eye pieces and the ear muffs. That 'hamster bottle mouthpiece' in the wall allows us to keep the patient fully isolated without the need to interrupt their stay for feeding. The patient can use it by themselves; we adjust the liquid to the patients physical needs. We do have these in the regular personal suites intended for a longer stay by the way, but those contain only water."

"It kind of looks like a nipple." Anna laughed. The directrix in turn smiled approvingly.

"But why feeding? Can patients be kept here for such long periods of time?"