Merciless Hospital

"911 Dispatch, what is your emergency?" The operator looked at the caller I.D. box documenting the address and phone number. She typed it in her service call on her computer with the nimble fingers of an expert call taker. Her voice was calm and smooth. Carla Wiggins was trained to listen to every detail of a call and this one was no different than the last or so she believed.

"He-hello, I need help. I would like to report an assault please. Send the ambulance and the police, please quickly," the rasping female voice caught Carla's attention. It was as if the lady was whispering but there was something else that she could not place.

Carla responded to the caller, "Okay Ma'am, I need for you to please speak up. I can barely hear you. If you are hurt mash the button on the phone one time please." The ominous sound of the one beep came across loud and clear. However, before Carla finished typing the call into her C.A.D. {Computer Automated Dispatch} screen, she checked to confirm the location. The address was none other than the Mercy Mental Hospital, located at 4481 Merchant Ln. It was then she heard the woman's voice scream into the other end of the receiver.

"It's too late! They found me bitch! I needed help for real, please send help here!" The phone then went silent but the actual woman's voice reverberated in Carla's head. Chills went up Carla's spine and goose bumps rose all over her arms at the desperation of the woman's voice. The voice was panicked with a far too real sense of urgency. Carla mashed her service light this signal of a flashing booth meant that she needed a break from handling calls at the moment. A supervisor would come over assess Carla's stress level, replace her call booth with a capable replacement for a fifteen to twenty minute rest from call taking.

Brenda walked over to Carla's booth and asked, "What's up?"

Carla exasperated looked up at Brenda then explained, "That's the second time I have received the Mercy Mental Hospital call this week. Why does it always seem to be me they call? This time it sounded so real. I mean look at me," Carla held her hand out in front of her level and parallel to the floor showing Brenda how bad she was shaking. Carla's hand was truly trembling everywhere. Brenda nodded then looked into her subordinates eyes seeing the welling up of tears in Carla's eyes.

Brenda said, "Oh, I understand Carla. Take a break. Go have you one or two cigarettes. I will be out in a minute to join you." Brenda then waved at her reliever of the day for her shift. Carla's place was taken quickly.

Outside Carla sat at a picnic table designated for the smokers. It was a slight cool, fall day with the wind blowing in off the ocean, making it even cooler. Brenda then walked out beside her subordinate. Brenda had an easy smile and a motherly feel. Brenda had quit smoking years ago because she found out she had a spot on her lung. The fear of cancer, being a single mother of two, and the cost of the cigarettes increasing, made up her mind quickly. Quietly Brenda stood there as if knowing to be silent, letting Carla gathers her thoughts.

Carla had a cigarette lit. Carla was sitting at the picnic table taking a drag slow and deep. She spoke out loud knowing Brenda had walked up. "I mean, I know it's a mental facility but I was wondering how real that woman sounded. It made the hairs on my arms stand up. I had goose bumps everywhere, Brenda. It was so real to me. What if she did need help? What if she did need the police and an ambulance like she requested?"

Brenda stood silent for a few more seconds waiting then said, "I know Carla. I know it seemed real but she was in a hospital baby. Patients or mental patients, I should say are not allowed to use the phones there. We are not allowed to send anyone out to those facilities unless a doctor or their security police calls, you know that. It's protocol. If that was the case the mental patients would call us every single day for silly things. They are their own little world out there baby. It's just the way it is."

At Mercy Mental Hospital, Dr. Leroy Simmons, was strapping the patient in. The patient in question was me. I am Monica Gerald. I have blonde hair, green eyes, fair skin, and I am another doctor's wife, before coming here that is. Yeah, I know what you are thinking. I am not a mental patient at all. I found out my husband was cheating on me. I located an attorney who is a local good ole boy. He happened to know my husband. Before I could pay the man a retainer, I was inside the mental ward. I supposedly tried to commit suicide. My caring, loving husband signed the committal papers to have me placed inside until he could secure his money and his lover. Dr. Henry Gerald, my husband, is a cardiologist. Henry knows just about everyone in our small town. He plays golf with the Chief of Police and the Mayor.

I was placed inside of Mercy Mental Hospital to keep me quiet. I was to experience severe pain during my stay and please other men, during the process. I was to become a whore for this shitty, little, backwoods town. Oh, I fought the bastards. It lasted all of two hours. I will endeavor to explain in detail, the first night I came in.

It was a rainy afternoon when I followed my husband to the emergency procedure that he was called away to. I did not trust a private detective. So I followed Henry, in the rental Chevrolet station wagon from Hertz, to the Motel 6. That is where Henry would rendezvous with his lover. No emergency existed except, for the one in his trousers. I got great video documentation and proof with the credit card receipts of the dates with times. Henry thought I was just a dumb blonde without knowledge of how to do things. Henry forgot that I was on scholarship for a law firm which was very lucrative in my home town. Unfortunately, I trusted the lawyer from Henry's home town and not my own.

I am a sexy blonde with emerald green eyes, a tight little body of one hundred nine pounds, and I am only five one. I have 34 inch B-sized cup breasts which are sensitive to the touch. I am what most men call fun sized. I have been with just about every type of male on the planet from Blacks, Hispanics, Orientals, Arabs, and Whites during my youth as an experimenter during college. I had good and bad, fat and skinny, muscled up and flabby, of every race. So I just consider the person behind the cock. I believe if a man is handsome, decent, with no lies or deceit, loves me first, and making me a priority well, then that is perfect for me.

Getting back to the story, the reason I married Henry was he swept me off of my feet. He seemed centered, was an excellent lover, pre-med student, with a genuine love for me. Little did I know that, he had an obsession and it was never love? I was his hobby. I had no idea that he was there the night I was being fucked by several guys from the college football team. I along with two of my girlfriends, Tina and Jennifer, were entertainment after the big win. Henry was there that night watching, becoming fixated with my talents. He watched as I was on my knees, sucking Treyvon's big black cock and Jeb, a huge white linebacker, was hammering my asshole for all he was worth. In all, I believe the team ran a train on us for about four hours.

It was a Saturday evening so, no school on Sunday. It was always the wildest fun on college campuses everywhere on Saturdays. I didn't ever remember my husband taking his turn on me that night, but I could be mistaken, because everything was fuzzy. I just remember taking the morning after pill, to make sure I wasn't with child. Most of us college girls did that after a really wild Saturday night. Any ways, the next week is when Henry began trying to court me. He knew where I had been and it had no effect on him. I felt he was kind of strange because most guys stayed away from girls like us, except on party nights. Henry didn't even seem to care.

That is how we met. Now, after letting the cat out of the bag almost eight years later, I was being transported via a police cruiser to the Mercy Mental Hospital. The committal papers were signed. Therefore, pending an evaluation, I was to remain in custody of said facility. I would remain until I was no longer deemed a threat to anyone else or myself. The good husband, Mr. Henry Gerald, excuse me, Dr. Gerald, would make sure his little wife was well taken care of.

I would like to explain that as the years went by my husband became more fixated with Bondage and Discipline. He enjoyed using my body, while I was tied, helplessly unable to move. He would also bring friends, just like in my college days, and they would use my body as a dispenser for cum. I thoroughly enjoyed it. I loved the orgasms. I enjoyed the different feeling of being spanked, whipped, or flogged by a leather whip with over thirty tiny leather strips on the end. I learned to enjoy Spider Gags, Violet wands, and spreader bars. I learned to be uncomfortably placed kneeling on the wide bench with my arms tied to the front legs leaving my ass exposed in an offset doggy style position where any man or woman could fuck either my pussy hole or asshole with a dildo, cock, or strap-on.

When I arrived at the hospital, I found the Head Doctor, Dr. Leroy Simmons, there waiting with two orderlies. I was amazed at the troubled lengths my husband went through to hide the fact that I was going to divorce him, no matter what he did to me. It turns out; I had need of a whole lot more time because, I would be staying at Merciless Hospital for a long stay.

The night I arrived, I was placed in a holding cell with grey walls made of plain cinderblock a metal door appeared to be the same grey drab color, a small cot with a thin cushion, and one blanket to cover up with was all I was given. I noticed the lights were imbedded into the ceiling with some type of wired cage covering it. I was too short to try and reach the lights anyways. I remember when they placed me inside the room with my struggling one of the big orderlies grabbed me holding my arms by my side. I felt the syringe enter my buttocks and I went limp as a dishrag.

The funny thing is I could still hear everything around me for about the next seven or eight minutes. I overheard the man holding me say, "Damn Doc, this is a fine piece of real estate. I sure am going to enjoy breaking this one in. I mean look at her sexy tight little ass."

I overheard the Doctor Simmons respond, "Don't touch her until I find out what Dr. Gerald wants us to do with her. Hey, I mean that. I do not want anyone touching her yet. Just place her in the holding cell until the morning."

I was carried as if like nothing then placed onto a rolling table as the two orderlies; both men took me to my room. I felt them remove my clothes, examine my nakedness, and feel my body parts. The two began laughing like two infantile morons. I felt so helpless. I so needed to get out of that place. I thought, just before I went out completely, that I was happy I hid the video flash card in a safe place. I remembered I placed it in my shift robe inside one of my old hand purses. I made sure it was on the very bottom of all the other purses, hidden where no one could find it, unless they knew where it was.

I woke up with the worst throbbing headache of my life. My head was pounding with any little noise and my mouth was dry as cotton. I wanted to get some water so bad. I tried to stand but the room started spinning. I fell back onto the tiny little bed. I decided to just lay there for a few more minutes, before attempting to stand again. My entire body felt weak but my vision was fine. It was strange the way I felt. I thought perhaps it was the drug they administered the night before had my equilibrium off. I managed to use my senses to smell, see, and hear the entire encompassed area. Like I understood, this was a mental hospital but inside the locked cell there wasn't so much as a toilet or a sink even. I was there with just the bed and the blanket. I looked to check out the bed it was bolted to the floor which was cold cement covered with the same drab grey coating for paint.

I listened to the sounds and in the distance I heard voices which seemed faint and far off. Then I heard moans as if something were hurting or perhaps a woman in the throes of an orgasm. I continued to listen even more carefully and it was so clear to me whoever she was happened to be thoroughly enjoying her time here. I became worried. I was mistakenly placed here correct? They would allow me to make at least one phone call and I could call my, my, wait. Who would I call? My husband placed me here. I have been living estranged from my parents isolated so to speak because of my wicked lifestyle. I mean Pop was a preacher and Mom, the Preacher's wife. When they found out I was a whore in college. They excommunicated me.

I being an only child would have to call on my cousin Johnny. He was a pervert and always wanted to fuck me. He was my Dads brother's son, John Sr. Johnny being the junior was always infatuated with trying to see me naked or kissing me. He once grabbed my whole ass when he was lifting me out of the swimming pool copping a good feel. It felt good, I recalled turning and saying something like, "Damn, Johnny too bad you're kin because that felt truly delicious."

He smiled and said, "Well hey, what they won't know, won't hurt them."

Johnny was serious and I understood that. So I discontinued the conversation because although he was very handsome, I needed to remind myself he was kin. If I called on Johnny it would be difficult to ever live this down. However, it was better than staying in here locked up for no reason. They would have to eventually allow me to leave.

When the orderlies came and got me I was prepared to fight them. The two were huge strong men with biceps like steel and huge guns as my ex-linebacker lover used to say. Damn, I missed his cock badly. In every girls mind there is one guy who makes her weak in the knees mine was the linebacker Deveraux. Jason Deveraux, a Cajun with a massive nine inch penis that he could use to open doors with. Damn! He was the fuck of the century. Yeah, he was the one that got away from me. He enjoyed fucking me. He had even told me how much he loved my sex and little body too. Jason was a Master craftsman with his tool. Little did I know what my husband Dr. Henry Gerald would teach me here at Merciless Hospital?

I was taken from that tiny holding cell and walked down a long hallway. I was still kind of out of it merely walking in an almost zombie-like fashion. One orderly was in front of me the other behind me. I felt the constant touching from either one or the other urging me towards a set of double doors. I was trying to get my bearings and passed a little sign on a wall which had a legend beside it. I was too bleary eyed to read it good but understood we were heading to F-ward. Once I entered, I began to fight.

The single most scariest thing in the world is that of the unknown, wouldn't you agree? I was terrified because right as I entered F-ward (also known as the Fuck ward) I noticed it was completely clean immaculately so. I too noticed all the naked young women tied, with collars on like pets, or wearing obscenely gross metal gags with access to their mouths which I knew to be the infamous spider gags made of stainless steel. In the distance, I noticed my masochistic husband speaking with the good Dr. Simmons. Both turned looking at me at the same time as I was walked in by the two orderlies.

I never said a word. I reached up grabbing a hand full of hair attached to the guy in front of me. I began an onslaught of kicks, punches, gouges, bites, and scratches. The orderly behind me wasn't expecting the total transformation of my docile self to this instant hellion. Surprised he stood still until I turned kicking him square in his balls. He crumpled to the ground as I tried to make a run for it anywhere. I ran back out the door where we had come from towards the corridor where the map and legend were. I heard Dr. Simmons and my husband call my name as I ran towards the corner where I remembered it to be.

I used the map to find the phones and nursing station. I dialed 911 and received the dispatcher an obvious idiot. I tried to ask for help. Instantly, the lady asked too many questions I could hear them searching for me. I squirmed under a desk and tried to be inconspicuous but the red light on the phone was flashing. The dispatcher was asking too many questions frustrated I cursed her. I called her a bitch because to me I needed help but right when I looked up I was being punched in the face. Blackness was all I remember.

When I woke up later I was completely naked with a spider gag in my mouth. My tongue was dry. My eyes were open now with a bright light in my face. Two weights dangled from my nipples which had clamps attached to them. I was tied with a plug inside my asshole. Also an awkward machine with a huge rubber cock on a piston with a motor attachment was lined in front of my sex. The head of the rubber dong was a mere inch away from my entrance.

I realized my predicament. Tears began falling, I tried to speak but then I heard my husband's laughter and decided begging was beneath me. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction. I decided to endure, be strong, and weather the storm. I have been fucked before. I have never been tortured to the extreme but I planned on sacrificing my body for the greater good. Pay back was going to be a bitch. I was merely going to survive through whatever they had planned for me. I knew I was going to be fucked hard by the looks and size of the orderlies. The truth is I pissed them off when I took them both out. They were trained staff used to fighting but I surprised them both as complacent as they were. I thought to myself I lost the element of surprise now. My mind was constantly thinking.

"Dr. Gerald, would you have any words for your lovely wife before we use her body?" Dr. Simmons stated out loud arrogantly. He reminded me of the straight "A" prick in high school that knew all the answers and would jerk off looking at lingerie models in a Sears catalog. He was a scrawny asshole, short, goofy, who still had greasy brown hair and wore wire rimmed glasses. His breath stunk because he never brushed his teeth, he had bad sweat spots still under his arms, and he always looked unkempt.

My dear husband stepped up right in front of me with a smile across his face as if he'd won. He looked me in my face and spit into my open mouth. "Honey, I so hope you enjoy the fucking they are going to put on you. I am having my own video tape recording of it. See this machine it is going to fuck you to a delicious orgasm again and again until you are going to be raw from having orgasms. I loved sharing you all these years but it has come to this. You should have not tried to divorce me and ruin me bitch. Now you will learn discipline the hard way. No worries, Dr. Simmons will take care of you? He thinks you're sexy and so does his help. Enjoy the fun my sweet precious wife. I will enjoy the tape. Oh, and remember my dear what doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger."

I tried to say fuck you but the spider gag wouldn't allow my mouth to say anything it came out like a moan instead. I thus began the journey as the engine cranked up and the piston like machine was scooted closer. I watched one of the orderlies place a huge gob of lubricant on the end of the rubber cock. I felt it enter me at first gently in and out, in and out. The feeling was not too bad and I relaxed as I began enjoying the feel. I felt the orderly move or adjust the machine the piston like action increased and went even deeper inside of me. I began moaning softly at first as my mouth was drooling and dribbling.