Committed

“…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, and 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 other's divergent sexual preferences. Soon after they 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 a 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 where 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. Whoever 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 patient's 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 all 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 thought 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 thought, “but I am feeling a bit anxious about this.” The suite test Sean was going to undertake represented 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 nurse’s 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 thought 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, 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 hundred 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 headgear with the eyepieces 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 patient's 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?”

“Certainly. Whenever a patient transgresses – that is, they break one of the rules of behaviour – a stay in solitary confinement is the sanctioned consequence. For a first transgression, the patient is placed here for 24 hours. We can monitor their health remotely using the cameras and the special in-ear monitors they wear during their isolation here. These are essentially like those Bluetooth sport earbuds, but with a significantly expanded battery life. With these, it is possible to measure the patient's heart rate remotely. We use these to play back a so-called binaural noise as well, which further intensifies their stay. The noise, together with the lack of sight, has proven extremely effective in turning the patient 'off' as it were. From what I gather, it is quite an intense experience.

“Any further transgressive behaviour would result in bespoke measures decided upon by myself. Although this hasn't happened often. One single stay in these cells tends to be quite effective in removing the last vestiges of resistance any patient might have. Nearly all of our patients have come to fully accept their status and the accompanying rules afterwards. Don't worry though, we don't use this sanction during the evaluation period. It is only natural that first-time patients are hesitant to let go of the notion that this is just an elaborate form of sexual role-play.”

Anna stared reverently at the solitary confinement cell. The very idea of being locked up in one of those was dangerously close to Sean's deepest fantasies. She considered that he would in all likelihood love to experience it for half an hour. But 24 hours? What does that do to a person?

“And that concludes the tour. Come, let's go to the staff cafeteria.”

The Directrix led Anna back through the entrance hall, this time taking a cast iron spiral staircase to use the walkway suspended over the main corridor of this ward. Seeing the open door of the cell she'd seen just now from this vantage point, Anna realised that the thought of seeing her Sean placed there was a huge turn on. Passing the entrance hall she observed a nurse passing into the eastern ward through the sally port. She imagined how it would look when Sean would pass through at the start of his evaluation period, and promptly noted that she was now thinking in terms of ‘if’ rather than ‘when’.

“Unless I am very much mistaken, the cafeteria has solyanka today. Shall I ask the chef to prepare a takeaway lunch for Sean for later?”

“Hah? Oh, right, yes please. Do we have time for this? Sorry, it feels kind of weird to leave him like this. Locked away.”

“Unpleasant?”

“No! Actually, it is… uhm… kinky? Hot?”

This earned her another appreciating smile from the Directrix. If anything formed an impediment for a successful stay, it was the lack of a partner capable of really understanding the patient's psyche to provide the necessary input for the treatment plan. Boundaries (and their hardness), preferences, phobias, previous experiences… The partner must be fully committed to the stay because they are convinced of its merit, not just because the patient wants it. Next point on the agenda, after lunch, was the partner interview, where the Directrix would pump Anna for everything she needed to understand Sean.

“We have plenty of time. I usually set out three hours for this test, and we will use that time too. After lunch we'll take a stroll around the grounds. I am genuinely quite interested in your side of the story.”

During their walk, the Directrix managed to acquire a solid understanding of this couple with a barrage of subtle, and not really subtle, questions. Every patient and their partner who would act as their decision maker was different, and each couple presented its own unique challenge, to tease out and eventually reduce to an ingenious treatment plan. This type of research was truly one of her favourite tasks.

After this session she led Anna back to her office, and seated herself behind her desk.

“Do sit down. Shall I ask Irina for a cup of coffee? No?”

Kovaleva leaned forward with a watchful, anticipating gaze.

“What do you think?”

“It was… impressive. Intense,” Anna said. “I keep trying to imagine what it would be like when customers, uhm, patients are committed under the supervision of the nurses here. I've seen the promotional videos of course, but to see the institute with my own eyes…”

A knock on the door, and one of the nurses primly walked in.

“Ah, Nurse Nadia, good, we were just finishing up. Will you gather the patient-candidate for his medical check-up and measuring? When you're done you may escort him to the gate.”

“The medical check-up is completely free from any obligation of course,” she told Anna, “but in case you do consider committing your husband here, we can make all the necessary preparations without the two of you having to travel all the way just for that.”

Nurse Nadia was a handsome middle-aged woman who kept her elegant silver hair in a neat bob. Like the rest of what the Directrix consequently called ‘the staff’, she wore the standard uniform. In spite of her limited length, Nurse Nadia certainly looked like a woman who did not brook being contradicted.

Were these all actresses? Models? Before their visit, Anna had thought this ‘institute’ a pure commercial undertaking where the services on offer were essentially a form of BDSM, and ‘the staff’ a cast of women simply earning well in a very specific niche, but at no point during the tour the apparent illusion of a bona fide medical facility wavered.

Those outfits… This is right up Sean's alley, this is. Hm. I wonder how I'd look dressed like that? I don't care for that cap in her hair though. So corny…

As Nurse Nadia headed towards Sean's temporary refuge, the Directrix explained that a part of the staff actually did have a medical background. Something which was, in addition to being useful in case of emergencies, also quite handy in figuring out a patient's boundaries and the prevention of injuries.

“Nurse Nadia used to be a nurse in a large hospital, but after the umpteenth administrative merger and an unending stream of ever expanding types of mandatory forms to fill out, she lost the motivation she had before. The treatment of our patients here on the other hand gives her a fulfilment she thought she'd lost forever; the administrative workload is considerably lessened too,” the Directrix grinned. “All of our nurses have their own story. Some are not quite as cheerful. What unites them is this job where their efforts most certainly are appreciated. Of course, it does help that most of our nurses rather enjoy a job where a preference for, well, the more sadistic side of sex is highly commendable.”

“But I digress. What do you think, Anna? Do you think the treatment we can offer here at the institute could benefit your husband?”

“It… it all seems so real and intense. It's not like he's actually ill or something like that…”

“I do understand your reluctance. While we are not a traditionally accredited medical facility, the sexual approach we take in our treatment definitively is aimed at helping our patients. I consider this a form of alternative medicine; a form which nevertheless is effective, if the feedback we've received from released patients is anything to go by.

“Look, your husband… sometimes a person has submissive desires – severe submissive desires – but the daily grind and stress keep them from fully admitting to these. Your answers for the questionnaire paint the picture of a person for whom an ‘exciting’ bit of sexy role-play some evening on an off-day does not excite. Someone who while capable of enjoying bondage and properly prepared kinky scenes, never really lets go; something is always bothering them. Something doesn't feel quite ‘real’ enough, or some part of their mind strays to some chore that needs doing, or a problem at work; the list goes on.”

“Really letting go, genuinely being helpless, actually being locked up… that's what's lacking.”

“And that is what we are offering. A clinic where patients can let go, completely. Where transgressions have consequences, and restrictive measures are absolute. No smartphones, no distractions, and absolutely no pretend-play.”

“Some of our returning patients have a recurring need for this ‘reset’ we provide. However, even though they know that a stay here is for their own good, and that they will have achieved a form of mental recalibration upon their release, it is quite possible that – to name but an example – the CEO of some multinational will strenuously resist the restraints, the food, the straitjacket, and the hours of enforced solitude… Every patient deals with this in their own way, but the end result is the same: they are powerless to change anything about their present situation, and eventually, acceptance comes.”

“Judging from the profile you provided me with, and the way the both of you responded to our tour, I dare venture to say that Sean would really benefit from a stay with us. Think it over at your leisure. Refer to our brochures, and do let me know if you have any questions.”

Anna let all this sink in.

“Come, I'll walk you to the gate. We'll meet Sean there soon.”

After having said goodbye – Nurse Nadia seemed satisfied with Sean's general health, and quite approving of his steel chastity cage – Anna and Sean walked to the entrance of the grounds where a taxi would be waiting to pick them up in silence. Sean was unusually quiet, appearing introspective.

“Hey, you seem disappointed.”

“It… I…”

Sean took a moment to rearrange a jumble of thoughts and impressions into some degree of coherent speech.

“No, it was… I'm deeply ashamed to admit it. All of this was much – how can I put this? – much more ‘real’ than I imagined. And… I liked it. It was highly arousing and pleasant. And… I must be crazy, but before I was released from my cell all I could do was fantasise about actually getting committed. Complete with all the necessary restrictive measures, and a treatment plan tailored to my needs. Safely put away in a straitjacket in my own suite… Damn it! This shouldn't be turning me on at all!” an agitated Sean shouted.

“Hey, it's OK. Take your time to process this. But if you don't want to raise this topic again, then that's OK too, you know? No matter what, this trip was really interesting. By the way, I have lunch.”

With a smile Anna took his hand, and together they left the institute's grounds.

From her office on the first floor, Directrix Kovaleva watched the couple leave. Anna and Sean… Three weeks, she estimated; three weeks before she would receive the application for Sean's first stay. She rarely missed the mark.

For this holiday, Sean had made a meticulously prepared itinerary focusing on romantic hotels in and around Lviv. Hotel rooms with just that added extra touch which made them suitable as a backdrop for taking saucy photos of Anna. A four-poster bed in a baroque suite, a room with a little balcony overlooking a medieval market square, and for a finale, a (long, long) night in a villa-turned-boutique-hotel with a tastefully decorated room in a former storage cellar complete with a large steel ring set into the vaulted ceiling… If Sean could indulge by undergoing an evaluation stay in Anánke, then it would be no more than fair to spoil Anna with stays in fancy hotel rooms in a city replete with culture and history. Which would benefit Sean as well of course.

The first and last hotel of their trip, however, was in Truskavets. A picturesque town renowned for its baths and wellness resorts, an hour from the institute. This was a neat, modern hotel mostly geared towards business travellers rather than tourists, but it came warmly recommended by Directrix Kovaleva due to its propensity towards discretion. An understanding with the hotel's owner, which she had engendered, provided her with a way to leave a package waiting for the couple in their room when they arrived.

“I hope the other hotel rooms you've booked are a bit more interesting than this one.” Anna joked when they had found their room. The room was neat and clean, but otherwise boring and dated.

“I'm just teasing you Sean, this will do for tonight. We're only here to handle the paperwork for your stay, and I've arranged for a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”

“Later.”

“Before you can be committed, these forms must be signed, and we have to record a video message where we both consent to your admission and my role as your representative and decision maker. Now, the protocols of the institute we've read back home, but these essentially boil down to you being treated as a flight risk and potentially violent. As your representative, I will explicitly consent to the use of coercive measures, confinement, corrective measures, and the bland, low-stimulus diet. In summary, your perverse fantasy.”

“And just to be clear, our personal CNC-agreement further contains the following: you grant me the power to have you committed to an institute, to wit, Anánke. The duration of your stay will be decided by me. We deliberately left out any maximum duration, because you want to experience the uncertainty that entails. You accept the underlying risk, and consent that I can act in a non-consensual manner within the limits set out in this agreement.”

“Now, the evaluation stay has a duration of exactly three days and twelve hours, but should I ever have you committed as a patient under the so-called ‘full regime’, our agreement with Anánke is that I decide upon an end date beforehand, which you do not know off, and which you will not find out.”

“So, should I have you committed here for a month or two, which you would not know, and after a week you find that you've had enough, then there will be nothing you can do about that. OK? And, together with you granting me the power to be your decision maker, I could in theory have you committed for a hundred years, effectively leaving you there for the rest of your life, should I be able to raise the funds for that.”

“Fuck… Why are we doing this?”

“I agree that this is extreme, and you know I do. And no, I don't intend to do that last thing, but we've already established that you need this mindfuck. It's your trigger. Do you understand this and do you still consent?”

“Yes. Fuck, yes. It's scary and arousing at the same time, and I must be mad for wanting to do this.”

“Of course. You're quite mad, that's why I'm having you committed.”

“Very funny. You know me, what I need, and what I fantasize about. If I'm going to do something like this, it has to be intense and realistic. It just feels unreal, bizarre, extreme.”

“What I saw there certainly was extreme, and more than a match for your desires. But we won't fund a unique opportunity like this anywhere else, and… the tour and that suite test left quite an impression on you… Here, these are our lines for the video message written out. One set for you where you consent, and one for me where I accept the responsibility of being your representative. Besides, the evaluation stay only lasts three days and a bit, and we planned that for the end of our holiday. And because this concerns an evaluation stay, we are required to include an end date, and to make sure you are aware of it: August 4th, four days after the commencement of your evaluation stay according to our holiday itinerary.”

“Anyway, you're still lacking something to get you committed for more than four weeks.”

“The patient number they will assign to me, tattooed on my right upper leg. Exactly centred in the front, ten centimetre below the groin, each character 18 millimetres wide, conforming precisely to the design parameters provided. Yes, I did read that. Quite explicit and… permanent.”

“It would make a lovely present if you got that done for my next birthday, perhaps?” Anna said playfully, “But back to the video, are you ready to record?”

Together they recorded the video message for the institute. Even just reading his lines left Sean with a submissive buzz.

“That's the formalities sorted. Without these signed forms the video message isn't valid either. All that remains is to submit the forms, send the video message, and to have you actually committed, my little pervert. Are you looking forward to it?”

“I think so. So what's the surprise?”

“The rest of the package!” Anna grinned, “It has everything needed to restrain you. Your straitjacket of course, and lots and lots of other bits of leather… Directrix Kovaleva tasked me with having you try these on for size. Just to be sure. Not that there is any doubt regarding the sizing, they did take your measurements during our visit. Or have you gained weight?”

“Pff. As if.”

“I'm going to freshen up and change. The weather is beautiful, and you probably won't mind if I slip into that sexy little black dress before we go out to find a nice restaurant. Tonight we'll see if your new outfit fits; I'm sure you won't mind.”

While Anna took her time in the en suite bathroom, Sean felt the excitement for his upcoming ‘evaluation’ at Anánke rise.

It is going to be quite the challenge to keep my head focused on our holiday these coming days. Three days in the institute!

“Ready to go?”

Anna stepped out of the bathroom in her black summer dress. A tightly waisted fit-and-flare model, this strapless dress which ended quite a bit above the knee was an undisputed favourite of Sean. And provided you didn't stare at her modest bust, her nipple piercings didn't show too much. Anna had long since stopped wearing bras – a habit acquired out of laziness, but fully embraced by Sean. She wore a matching set of pumps and a medallion on a black ribbon around her bare neck; Anna was a brunette who preferably kept her hair in a short bob. Sean took advantage of the situation to embrace her from behind and plant a kiss on her neck.

“Hmm, you smell nice.”

“Did you expect me not to after having a shower? Is this smooth enough for you?” she said while she teasingly raised the hem of her dress.

“Beautiful. Lickable. Are you going to go out like that?”

“Would you rather I wear some knickers?”

“No, this seems fine,” Sean blushed.

Underneath his clothing a brave attempt at an erection underway, efficiently prevented as always by the chastity cage.

The restaurant was perfect. The hotel's receptionist knew all of the local culinary highlights, and the cosy restaurant next to the big park he recommended to them was faultless for this occasion.

It was after eleven before they got back to the hotel. Sean felt hard-pressed to keep a rein on his horniness. The package containing ‘coercive measures’ called to him.

“Before we are going to test those,” Anna nodded towards the package, “I want to see you cleaned up good. Could you undress yourself? I'll grab the handcuffs…”

Together Anna and Sean performed their monthly ritual where Anna used her key to unlock Sean's chastity cage to give his member a good cleaning in the shower. Before the cage comes off, Sean has his hands cuffed – behind his back – until after the cage has been locked in place again. This allowed Sean to wear the cage uninterrupted, excepting the occasional ritual cleaning. While the steel cage could be kept clean without taking it off, certain actions required a little bit more manoeuvrability, such as removing any hairs from the shaft. Anna performed this intimate ritual with love and dedication.

This concluded, Sean took his time to shave. For his body hair this was no longer necessary. Chest hair and pubes were, except for the occasional stray hair, long gone. Most had been removed permanently in the name of aesthetics; both Sean and Anna agreed that stainless steel simply looked better on a body without any hair marring the view. His legs, he had already depilated before the trip commenced.

After this considerable dose of personal quality time, the couple made love under the shower, where Sean's dedicated fingers and tongue drove Anna to a leg shaking orgasm.

“Did walking around with no knickers turn you on that much?” Sean asked.

Anna had slipped back into her dress and had made a start arranging the items from the package.

“You turned me on, and this lovely gear from that package… Towel yourself. I want to see what it looks like when you are, as the instructions say, ‘transport ready’. That is, with the straitjacket, and the headgear with the detachable gag and eyepieces. Oh, and the instructions are quite specific about this: ‘long term transport: incon (hv.) + pad’. So, that means this adult diaper and this extra padding? I think…”

“Mint green?”

“You would have preferred a cute print featuring princesses? This one looks seriously medical you know… Exactly your kink right?”

“It's just that that colour seems to be a recurring theme at Anánke. Uh, do we really need to use those now? I know I won't have any choice in the matter during my evaluation stay in three weeks time, if we decide to proceed according to plan, but perhaps we could try just the straitjacket for now?” Sean objected.

“Come on now, I want to see you in the complete outfit and take some photos to put on FetLife. And by the way, you're the one who wants everything to be just right. Lie down, I'll put it on you.”

Having completed this embarrassing item, the straitjacket was next. Using the measurements taken by Nurse Nadia, the quartermaster of the institute had assembled a straitjacket and headgear in his size.

“Stand over here please? I'll help you into this. My, this thing is quite heavy!”

Anna had Sean put his arms in the straitjacket, and buckled the five straps on the back.

“Right, cross your arms? Is this too tight?”

Following the checklist provided in the instructions, Anna pulled the arms back, connected them in the back using the straps on the ends of the arms, and buckled the vertical strap left dangling over his arms in front of the garment to prevent him having any unnecessary leeway. Finally, she guided the straps left hanging between Sean's legs from the front to the back, and buckled these as well.

“How does it feel?”

“Like I'm being hugged by someone who won't let go. It's heavier than I figured it would be. Yet… also really arousing.”

“I'll do the headgear and the leg cuffs next, but first…”

Sean was shocked to see Anna pull an electric hair clipper from the package.

“Hey!”

“I'm sorry, but I want you fully outfitted. That includes a #2 haircut. When you are committed this will be required regardless, as you well know, so we might as well do it now. Come on, I'll help you sit down in this chair. Besides, I've always wanted to see how you'd look with your trimmed as short as this.”

Sean too was curious, but this room had no mirrors outside of the bathroom. And even though this surrender felt exciting, Sean did quite fancy his hair. A quarter of an hour later Anna was satisfied.

“Any loose hairs itching? Hang on, I'll brush them off.”

Sean was surprised to see that the package even had a brush for this purpose included. Whatever his thoughts about Anánke, they were thorough.

“Can I see?”

“Later honey. First the rest…”

First up were the leg cuffs. One pair for the ankles, another for just above the knees.

“Using these straps, the cuffs are linked and you should be limited to taking just small steps. It prevents you from running away.”

“As if anyone would dare to while wearing a straitjacket!”

“A flight risk, and potentially violent, remember? If you felt as if you were only acting your part and could quit at any time, the treatment wouldn't work.”

“Did you get all that from those instructions?”

“I did my homework before this trip, you know, and Directrix Kovaleva instructed me as well. I'm going to check if the headgear fits, and if the eyepieces work properly. Let me know if anything pinches, irritates, or just doesn't feel right.”

The headgear was an impressive item, made from leather straps, buckles, and other assorted hardware. Sean cooperated when Anna placed the mouthpiece with the built-in ball-gag over his chin and nose. The ball-gag's ball had holes in it to allow the wearer to breath through their mouth, but outside of that allowance for comfort and safety, it filled the cavity of his mouth with an eerie precision. The placement of the holes for his nostrils and the depression for his nose were placed and sized just right, and not for the last time, Sean was impressed by the quality and bespoke sizing of the gear. Anna managed to get the headgear on correctly after a few tries. Satisfied with the result she added the eyepieces.

“How is the gag? Do you see any light around the edges of the eyepieces?”

“Hmmgnn.”

“Sorry,” Anna said while she unbuckled the straps.

“The ball-gag is fine, but the leather mouthpiece is a little tight against my nose. Can you lower it a tad?” Sean asked.

“Sure. I think I've got it right now. Wow… You really look like a mental patient ready for an emergency admission, Sean Lecter,” Anna smiled.

“Hang on, let me get the mouthpiece again… How is it?”

“This really ticks a lot of boxes frankly, but could you untie me? The beer here is great, but…”

“Why ever would I untie you? You won't have that luxury in the institute, and let's not pretend the helplessness isn't turning you on… Hold it for a bit, and if you do have a little accident, that's OK…”

“Funny.”

Anna chose to ignore Sean's protest, and switched to a more serious tone of voice.

“Hey honey, how do you feel about getting committed?”

“How would it feel when we'll be back here in three weeks? I… This feels good, arousing, very exciting… But my rational inner voice keeps coming up with arguments against this plan; it's a waste of money, it won't be as ‘real’ as I had hoped, and of course that I'm not crazy, I don't need to be committed…”

“and… I'm ashamed of this.”

“Darling… indulge yourself for a change. You work hard enough, you've earned it. And no, you are not crazy, but you are stressed out a lot and tense. Our practice of strict chastity, the freedom you grant me to go wild as a hotwife and have other men fuck me… And no, you're blushing, but it's not something you should be ashamed of, it's what you are, my sweet cuckold. This does you good, but… you are lacking something. There is this deeply submissive part of Sean which just doesn't get its fill. A part of you which occasionally needs to utterly and completely submit. It is also something I just cannot manage to give you. That really frustrates me.”

“Anánke's special therapy, a stay in the institute is precisely what you need. You're not crazy… although… with your sick perverse fantasies, you are most definitely ripe to be committed,” Anna said with a grin.

“We signed the forms, we sent the video message where you consent to non-consensual actions within the limits established, everything is ready for your evaluation stay. Do you want to call it off? That's OK too. You have to want this too.”

“No… You're right. I want to experience this. I'm just scared…”

Anna stood right in front of Sean with her hands laid on his shoulders.

“You're trembling honey… Shall I untie you?”

“No, that's not it. I'm feeling extremely submissive and strangely at ease right now. This straitjacket feels good, deserved even. I'm just afraid to let myself go. To pass the threshold, literally and figuratively. What will the people there think when I come in for my evaluation stay? How do you even keep yourself? ‘Uh hi, I'm here to have myself committed, please take me to my cell’? How on earth do you get into the right mindset?”

“Honey, I am behind you all the way. I want you to get yourself committed. I'm having you get committed. You're needlessly blocking yourself.”

Anna gave Sean a stern look.

“I'll help you cross that threshold. I think you are worrying too much. Do you trust me?”

“Yes, of course, but…”

“Completely?”

Anna saw the tension drain from Sean's body.

“I trust you.”

“Good,” Anna said, and with a smile returning to her face she replaced the mouthpiece with the ball-gag, followed by the eyepieces.

“Come, I want to take your picture in a bit.”

“Mmnhg.”

“Walk with me honey, I'm guiding you.”

Sightlessly walking in the hotel room was a curious sensation to Sean, but he trusted Anna to steer him away from any obstacles. Not that anything but small steps was possible due to the leg cuffs. Anna held her hand on his lower back and kept a grip on the arms of the straitjacket. Carefully she led him to the door and the corridor.

“Mmmhng!”

“Relax, there is no one else on this floor. Besides, the idea that someone might see you turns you on. Sick fuck.”

Sean found it hard to counter this, even if he hadn't been fitted with a ball-gag. Yes. This turned him on considerably. In the middle of the corridor, Anna stopped.

Fuck, if any of the other guests catch sight of us… The leather straps of this straitjacket creak when we move. That sound… it is… sexy. Is she planning to take some pictures in that little seating area near the lift? No! She pressed the lift button! She's taking me into the lift; we're not going down to the reception area like this surely? No wait, the lift stopped already. So one floor up? Or down?

Sean felt his heart in his throat. Acting on reflex, he tried to spread his arms to seek some reassurance, but the unrelenting straitjacket suddenly made him acutely aware of his vulnerability and helplessness. A way up the corridor Anna used the access card from an envelope taken from the package to open a door. Sean froze when he heard the beeping of the lock.

“Come on, nearly there honey.” Anna said gently pulling Sean along into the room. A few steps inside she turned him around.

“One small step backwards please? Just a little more. Good. Now sit down; slowly!”

Sean felt a seat under his buttocks, which made him quite aware of the fact that he was wearing an adult diaper and a straitjacket in a foreign hotel, in a strange room. That thought however was quickly displaced by a new sensation.

What is this? This can't be a normal chair. What is she doing? But, this is one of the institute's wheelchairs! Did she arrange for Directrix Kovaleva to make this available for testing?

One by one, Anna lifted Sean's legs, and placed his bare feet on the cold metal footrests she swung into place. One by one she used the leather straps left there for that purpose with the leg cuffs, and tightened them. She passed a strap around the back support to fixate Sean's upper body. Finally, she used the proper straps to fixate his head as well by strapping the headgear to the chair's headrest.

So exciting to be able to try this wheelchair already, but why couldn't we do that in our own room?

“There, that was the last one… Done! Honey, we did it! I'm so proud of you!”

“Hmmnggm!”

"You can relax now. It's done. Wait, I'll take the eyepieces off so you can see yourself in the dressing mirror on this closet door."

Sean looked, and saw someone else. What Sean saw reflected in the mirror was not Sean, but a mental patient in a straitjacket.

Anna stood next to Sean in her summer dress, and took a picture of the both of them pointing her smartphone at the mirror. A larger contrast hardly seemed possible.

“Honey, I'm going to reattach the eyepieces now, so you'll be completely ready for transport,” she smiled.

This role-play simultaneously felt incredibly wrong and extremely arousing! At that moment, he noticed Anna had taken the forms they signed from the envelope she was carrying. Sean's heart was pounding in his chest, when Anna turned towards him and went down on her knees to look him earnestly in the eye. The sweet smile from before was nowhere to be found now.

“Honey, listen. No, look at me. I've notified Directrix Kovaleva that you are ready to commence your evaluation stay. The required forms I've placed in the folder suspended from the backrest, and I've sent the video message where you've confirmed the boundaries set.”

“The instructions recommend that new patients use the transport to mentally prepare themselves for their stay. You know the rules; patients are addressed only by their patient number. Honey, from now on you are patient F408. Ef-four-oh-eight. OK? Got that?”

“Mmmn!” Sean tried while he desperately fought against his restraints. The leather straps creaked enthusiastically, but showed no willingness to yield.

“You can't go back now, so relax. I know you can do this honey.” Anna said while she took the eyepieces to strap them on again.

“Hnng! HHHnnng?”

“Calm down, surrender yourself. You know you need this,” Anna said, taking Sean's sight away. The last thing he saw was Anna bending over him in her summer dress with a maddening view of her tits.

“I know this isn't quite how you thought we'd do it, but you were needlessly holding yourself back. I'll come for you in three and a half days. Anánke will keep me apprised with photos, videos, and reports. I want you to make me proud and pass the evaluation. Can you do that for me?”

“I love you.”

Sean felt a breeze on his cheek and knew Anna had left the room when he heard the door close behind him. Sean was alone, helpless, and ready for transport.

“MMhhhnnggg!”

In the following minutes Sean calmed down a little, but the tension lingered. Showing – humiliating – yourself like this in front of your partner is one thing, but in front of strangers? But after a little while, he realised that Anna did exactly what she promised him: help him across that threshold. He wouldn't have to worry about what others thought of him, at least during the upcoming transport. Fixated in a wheelchair, mute and blind, there was nothing he could even do to make a better (or worse) impression. No eye contact, no conversations, no wrong moves. If that transport came – he still couldn't believe Anna wouldn't simply come back in a few minutes to tell him it was just an elaborate bit of role-play taken to its extremes.

The fact that he really was helpless was reinforced by his bladder informing him that its patience had him stretched to the limit. Embarrassed, he let his pee run freely; he soothed himself considering that at the very least that would help him find the proper mindset.

After waiting for somewhere between a few minutes and an eternity, Sean was abruptly shocked out of his musings when he heard the room lock beeping and someone grabbed his wheelchair, releasing its brakes. His heart seemed to skip a beat. He was being moved! Out of the room, into the lift… thus far nothing to be alarmed about, but the lift did not stop and continued on, as far as Sean could judge, to the ground floor. Would the receptionist see him like this at this time of night? A moment later he felt and smelled the fresh air outside; he was actually being taken from the hotel! A moment later he felt the wheelchair being pushed up an incline. A few brief snaps Sean correctly identified as his wheelchair being locked into place in the institute's transport van. A brief sensation of pressure and suddenly being cut-off from a sense of ‘outside’ told him the van's doors had closed. A moment later, the van was making its way through the night.

Anna watched with fascination from the seats near the reception desk as Sean was wheeled out. He couldn't see her, of course. As promised, everything had been arranged perfectly. Right down to the nurses' uniforms, everything felt right. Anna was looking forward to the photo updates of Sean's stay, and she noticed that having now taken the biggest hurdle this whole experience had left her hornier than she expected. Alone, she returned to her room for a little solo action.

Even though the institute was located deep in the woods reachable only by a long and twisting track, the driver took their time, driving in a smooth and calm manner. Sean relaxed and for the moment surrendered to mere physical sensations. The vibrations from the van, the complete absence of sight, and the constant presence of the restraints, all contributed to an unexpected feeling of safety. After a while, Sean dozed off.

Sean awoke when the sound of the van's engine seized. Slowly, the reality of his present situation sank in, and with it a growing sense of unease. In spite of the effective let-me-help-you-across-this-threshold tactic employed by Anna, his mind was once again stuck on the matter of presentation. Should he play along with the fantasy? Put on a businesslike ‘this-is-just-my-kink-deal-with-it’ mask?

It didn't take long for Sean to be cured of these doubts when someone took the wheelchair, backed him out of the van, and pushed him towards the open gate. Gradually realisation dawned that he didn't have to do anything. More specifically, he couldn't do anything that would change the outcome in any case, and oddly enough this realisation helped calm him down.

So weird to be here in the institute at this time of night, strapped in a wheelchair…

The staff on duty was in a bustle dealing with everything necessary to receive the new patient, but to him it was immediately clear that they did not perceive him as a guest or visitor. Around him prompt, automatic actions bore evidence of a well rehearsed routine of receiving patients. In a small room adjoining the entrance hall, Sean was unceremoniously parked and the eyepieces were removed. The sudden influx of light after a long period of darkness came as a shock, and it took a while for his vision to become clear – albeit within the bounds of the limited field of view permitted him by the straps holding his head in place against the headrest.

Behind his back the nurse he had, correctly, assumed to be the one called Oleksandra, was doing something behind his back, and returned in his view with the forms from the folder. Unhurriedly, she perused these. The other nurse present – Wasn't she called Alina? – was busy testing Sean's responses by shining a light in his eyes, and took his pulse by laying her fingertips in his neck. Satisfied, she mentioned something to her colleague in Ukrainian, which completely eluded Sean.

As Oleksandra was filing the forms in a binder, Alina had taken up a translucent sheet adorned with a couple of characters. Sean took this to be his patient number which would be applied to his upper thigh in the form of a temporary tattoo. Alina placed the sheet over the correct spot between his hips and the leather leg cuff Anna had used to secure his leg against the wheelchair's frame, and covered it with a moist towel. The activated printout's ink now penetrated his upper skin and marked him as F408. As Nurse Alina removed the sheet and Sean caught sight of the jet-black symbols, he realised that his intake had been formally concluded, and that he was now an inmate of the institute. Genuinely committed.

“F408, for the next 84 hours, you are committed to the Anánke Psychosexual Institute for the Treatment of Exceptional Paraphiliac Disorders. During this period an early release can only be affected by your decision maker, Anna ―” Nurse Alina began, evidently repeating a speech she had recited many times before, and could faultlessly repeat from memory.

“You are presumed to have familiarised yourself with the regulations, and have consented to your stay here, the restrictive measures taken for your and our safety, and use of compulsory measures at the discretion of the institute's staff. For the disobedience of orders given sanctions can and will be applied. For not adhering to the regulations sanctions can and will be applied. The staff at Anánke can and will use the means necessary to enforce obedience.”

Nurse Oleksandra now stepped forward with an orange baton in her hand.

“When a patient deliberately resists orders given by the staff, the use of an electroshock device is warranted. As per the regulations you will now receive a demonstration.”

Zzzzzzap!

“Nnngh!!”

Although Sean had read about the mandatory demonstration, the fact that his upper thigh would be the actual site of the demonstration came as a surprise. His heart throbbing, his vulnerable state became immediately apparent to him. He didn't notice Nurse Alina happily ticking a box on her list, while Oleksandra prepared a hypodermic needle. Before Sean fully grasped what was happening she had given him an injection in his other thigh.

“When deemed necessary for the patients rest and safety, sedatives or somnifacients may be administered,” it read on one of the signed forms, but the efficiency of the medical routines enacted by the nurses astonished Sean.

Oleksandra released the brakes on his wheelchair and pushed him out of the reception room towards one of the wards. At the sally port she was processed, and quickly buzzed through with her patient. As the magnetic lock of the inner door clicked shut, Sean was overcome by a feeling which came close to the feeling you might experience upon entering an imposing space, such as an ancient cathedral. Within the ward the air was heavy with ill-defined unspoken promises hovering outside of Sean's grasp. When the pregnant silence was broken by something which could not be defined as anything other than someone crying out in pain, Sean broke out in a cold sweat. The cry was followed by another, and another, each cry following the next on the same count, as if they were being timed with a metronome. Or the cracks of a whip? Sean thought.

Passing through the long corridors lined with steel doors, the wheelchair was pushed along, but in spite of the overwhelming impressions, Sean was having trouble staying alert. In his mind's eye, the corridors started to blend together, and he was rapidly losing the ability to form coherent thoughts. The rhythmic sound of Nurse Oleksandra's footsteps were his only support as he slid into a deep sleep.

“Wake up, F408.”

Sean awoke. Within the span of a few seconds he became consecutively aware that he was, lying on a bed, blindfolded, with his wrists fixated (as well as his legs and torso), and above all, that this meant he was at Anánke, as a patient. Brief confusion quickly made way for arousal, eventually augmented with a good dose of anxiety. Nearby Nurse Vika was preparing his straitjacket and cuffs.

Oh man, I've slept totally uninterrupted… Wow… I'm really here. Anna really took me by surprise yesterday. This is so fucked up, and damned if she wasn't sexy.

Another nurse (Sean didn't recognise her) entered the room and took up position on one side. The now familiar orange baton in her hand and the seemingly relaxed but alert posture told Sean that quiet cooperation was considered the only appropriate action expected of the patient at this point. Vika undid the straps and lowered the side of the bed in order to help Sean up. Stripped to his diaper Sean was put in his straitjacket again, but instead of the wheelchair, today his mobility was limited only by a pair of ankle cuffs with a strap in between. The headgear with the ball-gag completed the outfit, but fortunately the eyepieces were deemed unnecessary. Embarrassed, Sean let himself be led through the building's corridors. He was not surprised to find himself in the wash room after a short walk – short steps, a nurse on each side holding him by the upper arms.

Naturally, hygiene was considered to be of the utmost importance at Anánke, and Sean initially found the methods used to keep the patients clean as impressive as he found them scary. Part of the medical check-up he underwent after the tour consisted of filling out a huge list of questions concerning Sean's body and daily routine. This included his bowel movements (regularly? when? daily?), and Sean knew that one purpose of this visit to the washroom was to void his bowels.

Yesterday, back in the hotel, Sean considered this one of the scariest things to experience during his evaluation stay, but somewhere between the moment the intake was concluded and awakening this morning, something had shifted in him. Sean seemed to undergo it all with a passive acceptance; signals were arriving, and in his mind various alarms were sounding, but none of this had any effect on his cooperating body. Unresisting, he let them relieve him of his outfit, and even though he was deeply ashamed of the wet diaper they removed, he let him be led towards the shiny metal cuffs which had been opened to receive him as if in a trance.

The wash room was a wet room dominated by the half metre wide trench drain in the middle of it. The slanted trench ended at the far wall in an oversized drain grill. In the middle of the trench adjustable metal footholds fitted with ankle cuffs were placed on both sides of the drain. A naked Sean was guided onto these footholds, straddling the trench as Nurse Vika locked the cuffs. Suspended from the ceiling directly above the footholds, a bent metal bar fitted with a grip for a person's hands on each end. As Sean grabbed hold of this, he noted that it was already adjusted to just the right height to allow him to stand comfortably with his arms and legs spread. Standing on a little raised bridge in front of Sean, Vika closed the cuffs that were attached to the bar as well.

Locked in place, and with his face forward, Sean tried to maintain his calm, but the sounds of the preparations behind his back made him uneasy. It was, in a way, a relief when the lubricated steel tip of the nozzle of the hose connected to the bag of liquid for his enema finally entered him. As the lukewarm water filled his colon, Sean tried to prepare for the awkward and inevitable moment where it would all come out. Meanwhile, Nurse Vika used the bridge to brush his teeth.

Having done this, she stepped out of view to remove the hose and let his bowels do their duty. It was with some gratitude that Sean heard the shower being turned on to rinse him down using a hose fitted with a shower nozzle. Sean uncontrollably voided himself, and felt relieved when everything was washed away and Nurse Vika proceeded to wash (what little remained of) his hair and body. Initially, this washroom appointment felt downright uncomfortable, but to Sean's amazement he was starting to enjoy this. It did help that he found Nurse Vika really quite attractive, and Sean was glad to find that this type of scene was enjoyable outside of his private fantasies.

Dry, clean, and empty, Sean was dressed again and made ready for a ‘feeding moment’, which meant getting pushed to a room – again restrained in a wheelchair – with a table and a bowl of porridge. Sean did not recognise the nurse on call there either, as she relieved him of the mouthpiece of the headgear. She sat beside him, and proceeded to patiently feed him spoon by spoon.

This is… utterly devoid of flavour…

After the feeding, Sean was wheeled away to the place where he would spend most of his time in the coming days; a padded cell like the one he had the pleasure to experience during the tour. Despite a feeling of unease and unreality, Sean felt his arousal rise again. This was it. Locked in a padded cell, snug in his straitjacket… Before he knew it he was on his knees on a soft surface and the door was being locked behind him. Nonetheless, he was grateful to be rid of the limiting headgear. With the recent impressions overwhelming him, he sank into a well-nigh meditative state of being. Nothing needed doing, nothing was expected of him.

After a while, Sean fell to erotic daydreaming. He thought about his recent wash room experience and Nurse Vika, but as his member engorged to the full extent permitted him by the chastity cage, he suddenly felt his face flush a deep red out of shame.

Hang on, I would get used to it, wouldn't I? And seeing those nurses bustle about is one of the precious few bits of stimulation around here… Oh fuck. Another week of this and I'll stand there with a barely concealed horniness like some kind of sick pervert… I might be able to restrain myself if the nurse that fed me had bathing duty, but that Vika? And how about that little ginger cutie… Forget about it. And sure enough, now the very idea of not being able to control this is turning me on… Fuck! I'm glad my evaluation stay will end before I reach that level of depravity.

Sean knew that only two things would interrupt the established routines of his stay: fitness training and therapy. When the two nurses who came to fetch Sean from his ‘suite’ were not pushing an empty wheelchair along, he immediately knew that this was not going to be a feeding moment – during those patients would invariably get strapped down in a wheelchair first. Stepping out of his cell he noticed even the tiny freedom of being allowed to walk on his own two feet on a hard surface felt like a luxury. The remaining measures naturally remained in place. The ankle cuffs, the headgear with the mouthpiece; it was the bare minimum considered safe enough to move patients. Fortunately, he quickly mastered the waddling tread necessitated by the belt between ankle cuffs and the mint green padding between his thighs.

Sean was somewhat relieved that this walk ended in a small changing room. From where he stood, he saw a large area filled with gym gear, and he knew then that he had managed to avoid the dreaded therapy session for the moment. One of the nurses handling him unbuckled his headgear. The briefly entertained notion that he might be allowed to exercise without being gagged in some way was shattered by the sight of a flexible silicone bit fitted with a rubber tongue.

OK, clever. A snaffle bit, complete with a tongue spoon to prevent the wearer from slipping his tongue over the bit. Unimpeded breathing, yet rendered totally incomprehensible. Using accessories meant for hors― Hrrgk!

Sean was struggling to suppress his gag reflex as the tongue spoon slid over his tongue. Happily, with the bit eventually in place this sensation passed. The other nurse, meanwhile, had taken the suspended rubber collar prepared for him, and had locked this in place using a lockable buckle, after which Sean was unburdened of the rest of his gear. From the collar, a slim cable snaked upwards. As he was ushered into the showers, Sean thought it felt strange to be able to move his limbs with such a degree of freedom. Still, he quite automatically obeyed the nurses; one of them stood aside with her orange baton, poised to act in case this was deemed necessary, and Sean was convinced she wouldn't mind in the least. He let himself get rinsed down and dried himself with the towel handed to him.

Sean inquisitively looked up to where his tether ended. It would seem that as long as he followed the lines marked out on the floor, the spherical end way out of his reach above his head would smoothly follow along through the guides placed along the high ceiling. Should any desperate patient choose to use the relative physical freedom of the fitness training to try to escape, the nurses could simply step out of the reach of the tether while they waited for backup.

Are there patients that would try to escape? You wouldn't have the slightest chance… What would make someone so desperate? Would they break down during the early days of their stay, or when they find themselves already committed for so long that they start to wonder about the actual intentions of their decision maker?

Sean's training session proved diverse. Training plans were drafted and executed by Nurse Evgeniya; an athletic brunette with a brisk manner about her dressed in a tracksuit – Oh sure, mint green again… Sean thought – and sporting a fringe. With the electroshock device-wielding nurse observing from the back of the room, Nurse Evgeniya put Sean to work on the various devices. Soon, Sean found himself sweating profusely, but he was under the distinct impression that Evgeniya purposely wasn't pushing her new patient to his limits. Sean felt as if he was being observed by some predator, one taking its time to figure out the weaknesses of the hapless gazelle or antelope – But not a gnu, Sean thought, I do have some measure of self-respect. He fully expected that successive sessions would entail him slowly being pushed to his limits, with a keen plan ready to go beyond them.

Finally achieve that six-pack? Higher stamina? Lose weight? Get yourself committed to Anánke! In any case, physically I'm certainly kept in peak condition.

As far as Nurse Evgeniya was concerned, ‘language barriers’ simply did not exist. Instructions and corrections were raised in rapid-fire Ukrainian, and where that failed the short riding crop she had adopted as the symbol of her office provided the necessary impromptu translation. After this first session, Sean was grateful to find himself lying exhausted in his cell.

These sportive sessions made Sean feel even more at home in his cell. Relaxed. The unpredictable timing of the limited range of events (sleeping, eating, exercising) did however prevent him from gaining a sense of control. Sean did have an inkling that this was quite deliberate, that his daily schedule was meticulously planned, and that he was constantly observed – his daily schedule adjusted if deemed necessary. But as his stay lengthened Sean knew he could manage. Three days was manageable, surely?

In the days that followed, events started to run together in Sean's experience. From time to time, he would sit for hours in a corner of his cell, deeply withdrawn into himself. At night – or was it even at night? – he would be restrained in his bed for his sleep. During the second time, the nurses judged him entirely too restless, and before he could take note he was again administered a sedative. Feeding time came and went, unvaryingly replete with the undoubtedly wholesome and healthy, yet utterly bland porridge accompanied by plenty of (almost certainly fortified) water. By now, Sean would have given anything to be allowed something as commonplace as drinking a cup of coffee – or even just to savour its aroma – but for now Sean resigned himself to a fully acceptant state of simply ‘being’. It wouldn't be for too long after all.

During his third night, Sean awoke abruptly. He felt someone fiddling with his restraints. Was something wrong? Before he could adequately process this sensation he simply froze in panic until his blindfold was removed and a taciturn and calm nurse helped him into a seated position. His body protested that what it considered a full night's sleep had not yet been achieved by quite a bit. The following routine proceeded as usual: in record time Sean stood ready in his straitjacket. As the institute's staff observed Sean's gradual adjustment into the institutional customs and procedures, so too did their unvoiced demands for his cooperation become more expected. The nurses performed their tasks with a prompt efficiency which deeply impressed Sean, and he had to shift quickly from drowsiness to obediently walking where he was directed to go.

Even though time within the walls of Anánke had proved fluid in Sean's experience, the abandoned hallways he was moved along now held a distinctly nightly atmosphere. At a small vestibule, Nurse Alina was waiting for Sean. She removed his headgear and offered a drink of water. Not from a glass (Sean would have been surprised if that had happened at this point), but from a bottle with the type of nipple usually used for calves. Later, Sean realised that this already felt completely natural. The chain between Sean's ankle cuffs was locked to a ring set in the floor, and he was stripped of the rest of his outfit. On a low wooden bench the snaffle bit he knew from his fitness training sessions was laid out.

So… exercise? But what on earth are those other things?

Nurse Alina and one of the nurses who escorted him here were each holding an object which seemed to consist of two oval leather panels sewn together with an opening on one the short edges. These they placed over Sean's hands, locking them in place with a leather strap. Sean realised that these ‘mittens’ granted him the freedom to move his arms without being able to use his fingers as well – not even to make a fist. The snaffle bit was next, and Sean even felt a small measure of pride as he now managed to accept the intruder with no gagging or discomfort.

The collar he was now fitted with, however, shocked him – figuratively speaking that is. When Nurse Alina bent down to pick it up, Sean had already noted the two metal pins protruding from the leather, and as Alina buckled the collar around his neck Sean was acutely aware that the two cold metal pressing into his throat were there to shock him – quite literally. As the other nurse unbuckled his ankle cuffs, Sean correctly guessed that the purpose of this collar was motivation. However, his thoughts on this topic were interrupted as the outer door was opened, and Sean was assaulted by a multitude of impressions. The smell and the subdued light of the tail end of a night just before sunrise, a pleasant cool breeze felt on his naked skin, the sound of the wind playing through the treetops in the forest surrounding the institute, and the sight of the courtyard. Sean was allowed outside.

Sean never expected this mundane occurrence to cause such an emotional upheaval. He noted that he felt intensely grateful to be allowed to experience this. After days of confinement, this felt like an undeserved amount of freedom – a realisation which upset Sean a little. If Sean had any choice in the matter he would have wandered around in a daze, enjoying every little sensation, but this was obviously not the goal of this excursion. He was escorted outside, where Alina took up her position next to one of the many yellow posts placed at regular intervals along the lawn in the courtyard. She pointed to the remote control she held, which had a row of five buttons. She briefly pressed the topmost button.

Tkk!

Sean did not need this demonstration to understand that this was the remote control for the shock collar he was wearing, and he knew what was coming even before the nurse pressed the button. Even so, the shock managed to, well, shock him. Alina supplemented this demonstration with the briefest of explanations, which amounted to the expectation that Sean would run his rounds, with a Tkk! meaning ‘go on for another lap’ and TKKK! simply meaning ‘faster!’. Despite not receiving an overt explanation for the rest of the buttons, Sean needed little imagination to judge these to be reserved for increasingly empathic feedback regarding his performance.

Sean decided not to await being shocked into action, and headed out onto the marked track in the direction indicated by Nurse Alina. Running barefoot took some adjusting to, but the springy surface was forgiving, and the predawn weather pleasant. When Sean was eventually directed back inside after a strenuous exercise, he felt sated and deeply impressed with the beauty of the world when you are active outside.

Sean was washed and fed, but this all seemed to escape Sean who was passively gazing nowhere in particular while he was cared for. This lasted until he found himself back in his cell, where the carefully constructed wall he had put in front of his emotions came tumbling down, and the tears fell freely. Sean understood only too well that today's little excursion was a privilege for well-behaved patients. It also drove home the point that freedom was something he did not have here, and that being tantalisingly allowed to only just taste that freedom was an even greater torture than not experiencing that at all. It filled him with an intense desire for being outside, for freedom, for… Anna. Knowing that he was here restrained in a straitjacket with her full consent – that she actually wanted him here like this – pushed him into a deep state of subspace of a kind he had never before attained.

During one of the feeding moments (Sean no longer held any illusions regarding his ability to tell time correctly), the Directrix used the announcement system. “Patient F408 to the visitation room, transport ready, ear plugs too.” Sean was shocked wide alert. Was it Wednesday noon already? So it must be the end of the evaluation stay.

“Anna!”

The unbidden word had escaped his lips before he could control himself. Sean's face turned beet red from shame. Surely not a transgression in the final moments of his stay!

Nurse Alina brushed away some food from around Sean's lips and gave him a pitying look. “Come, you have a visitor F408, but you heard it; first we'll have to see the quartermaster.” Alina escorted Sean to the tack room. Nurse Valeriya was on duty, and had already laid out fresh incontinence materials. “Transport ready with ear plugs? How unusual…” she said to Alina, but in gleefully surprised looks a different message appeared to be hidden, as she busied about changing Sean's diaper. It took just a short while to have Sean strapped in again – this time the goal was to not just leave him dumb and blind, but effectively deaf as well – while Alina lent a hand with the eyepieces.

The addition of the noise-cancelling in-ear monitors came as a surprise to Sean as well, and this intermediate stop and the attention paid to him by Valeriya and Alina left him with mixed feelings. Just a few hours away from unfettered enjoyment of all those romantic hotels he picked with Anna, delicious food – real food! –, wine, beer, and… her body, touching her, smelling her, tasting her… But as Alina tightened the strap for the eyepieces, another emotion arose. Sean was getting turned on by the fact that Anna would see him like this again. A helpless patient committed to the institute with her consent. Despite (or rather because of) the beckoning freedom being made ‘transport ready’ made quite an impact. The straitjacket, the headgear, the straps immobilising in the wheelchair; the sum of these restraints added up to feeling obscenely liberating, having no other duties whatsoever but to be patient F408.

Alina pushed Sean to the visitation room, and placed him in the middle of the room with his back towards the door. Then she left him. Sean expected to find Anna waiting here already, ready to relieve him of his bounds, but apparently his ‘visitor’ wasn't available just yet. Only after half an hour had passed did Sean start to feel he was being watched; judged. After a few more minutes of rising tension, the eyepieces and in-ear monitors were finally removed. “Hi honey,” Sean heard Anna say from behind his wheelchair, but she remained tantalizingly out of sight. “Hmmnmmh…” Sean returned as greeting through the ball-gag still keeping him from forming any kind of coherent speech. Why didn't she unbuckle that as well?

“You really fit in well here, don't you?” Anna had approached the wheelchair from behind and slid her hands along Sean's arms. The mere sight of her painted nails caused a shudder of desire in his body. Anna bent forward and rested her chin on his head. Sean was trembling with desire now being able to detect her scent and feeling his Anna's touch. Slowly she moved a hand downwards until she let it rest on his crotch.

“Are you seriously straining your chastity cage with an attempt at getting erect while you sit there strapped in a wheelchair?”

“Hnnngg!”

Filled with shame, Sean let himself get carried away in a maelstrom of frustration and desire. The leather straps restraining him felt even more present and unyielding than ever before.

“Hey… How are you feeling? I've just been reviewing your evaluation stay with Directrix Kovaleva, she was quite satisfied with your progression; excepting that one little outburst half an hour ago. In fact, you've passed your evaluation with flying colours. As far as she's concerned, you are deemed suitable for a proper stay. In your case she most emphatically recommends it even.”

The very notion of getting committed to the institute for a longer period of time was dreadful and arousing at the same time. Would it be possible to stay here next season for a short while? But to get committed without the safety net of the evaluation stay… Not to mention the risk of ending up in solitary confinement. Sean would have to think this over very carefully.

“Oh yes… This feels so right… Honey? I'm going to give you a wonderful gift. I know you, and I can tell you are aching to be released so you can fondle me, kiss me… Five seconds of that, and you'll have your hand down my knickers, and trust me, I am really quite turned on right now, and wet down there. And then we'll go back to the hotel where you'll shove me onto the bed and give me the best cunnilingus ever…”

“However…”

Anna now stepped around the wheelchair into Sean's view. Desire was replaced by confusion in a split second when he caught sight of her outfit. Anna was wearing the uniform of a nurse of Anánke. Anna placed her hands on the unused armrests of the wheelchair, and bent forward.

“However, I also know that a teeny little sick voice in your head is saying that you want more. That the evaluation stay was good and all, but that you need the real deal.”

“Well, here's the thing. During your intake, I was declared your decision maker. Should I have any doubts about your well-being during the evaluation stay, I would be able to get you released, no questions asked.”

“During a regular stay, I cannot do this: once committed, you will not be released until the end date specified. Now after a successfully passed evaluation stay, your stay is automatically commuted to a regular stay if the decision makers consents to that. Well, you know all this, you literally confirmed that in the video message.”

“So, you did pass the evaluation, and you are now ready to be committed until the end date on the forms we submitted. And… That still says August 4th; today that's… in three weeks time exactly.

Sean looked up at Anna and saw that she was dead serious. In the pit of his stomach he experienced that unique feeling you get when the carts reach the top of the rollercoaster right before they start down on their unavoidable descent. This was a dream, or a nightmare.

“I've just consented to your extended stay in principle, but that is pending your input. Directrix Kovaleva told me that some of the representatives use this moment to confer with the patient. Others… others prefer to just use this moment to say goodbye for a little while.”

“It's up to the representative in the end. I could remove your mouthpiece to ask for your opinion, but that is not what you really want. Deep inside your mind, a part of you accepts that you don't want to be able to choose at all, and I would just ruin the experience for you if I did give you the means to speak up. So…”

“Uhm, I have decided that you are staying here, committed to the institute under the full regime.”

“Hey, don't worry about the money. You worked really hard on perfectly arranging this awesome cultural holiday for two; Lars actually got a bit jealous when I told him of our plans. Now Lars of course is rich enough to have his pick amongst any litter of young beautiful models, but apparently it's genuinely quite hard to find one who doesn't think that Verdi and Tchaikovsky refer to takeaway coffee and crystal jewellery… So, he proposed to simply take your place, and be my chaperone for the coming three weeks. Why waste a great holiday? He insisted on footing the bill for your stay at Anánke in return. Well that… and of course to use me as his willing fuck toy.”

“Every. Single. Day.” she whispered teasingly in Sean's ear, and she took a moment to let the message sink in.

“So, as you can tell from this borrowed outfit, I get to return you to the ward, but… Honey? When you called my name you did commit a transgression and… Well, that happened just as your evaluation stay had formally ended. I was in the office of the Directrix, and I had just signed the forms for your regular stay. What that means is… Well, you transgressed under the rules of the full regime.”

“And uhm… Well, there is the sanctioned consequence, you are to be confined to solitary for 24 hours.”

The intense emotions triggered by this proved too much for Sean. Moaning he genuinely tried to escape from his bondage, but it was of no use. Anna smiled at him and stroked his cheek.

“Go on honey, let yourself go. There is no need to restrain yourself here. Not for my sake, not for the nurses' sake. I'm going to put the blindfold back now, so… Look at me…”

With a handkerchief she lovingly dabbed at a few tears on Sean's cheeks before she buckled the eyepieces back in place.

“There you go honey, I'm so proud of you.”

Anna released the brakes of the wheelchair and pushed her husband out of the visitation room. The hardest part was over. Did she make the right call? It did feel good to finally be able to grant him such an extreme experience, and… honestly, it really turned her on.

Out in the corridor, Directrix Kovaleva waited for her to escort the ‘temporary hire’ to the solitary confinement cells. With every step Anna took, Sean's resistance weakened, along with a growing disbelief, until they reached the confinement cell.

“You will stick with your decision Anna?” the Directrix asked as Nurse Nadia laid out the special Bluetooth in-ear monitors.

“Yes. I am having my husband committed to the institute,” was the last thing Sean heard before the ear covers were buckled to the headgear over the in-ear monitors and the noise played back to him shut out the rest of the world.

Disoriented and exhausted, Sean felt his body completely give up the fight. Sean was helped out of the wheelchair by two burly nurses, and was amazed to realise that he needed their support to remain upright. The soft surface of the padded confinement cell felt reassuringly familiar beneath his bare feet. With a little coercion he was made to kneel. The last act was the removal of the mouthpiece with its ball-gag, an act which Sean did not expect; he had forgotten about the ‘nipple’ installed in one wall which would allow him to drink. Before he had a chance to say something he felt the pressure of the cell's door being closed, and he lost himself in a heady mix of ecstasy, arousal, panic, and helplessness. Whether he screamed at that point or not, Sean could not recall afterwards.

One year later.

“There, my dear… Let's see if your useless penis can even get hard these days. Or has your body given that up already? It's not as if you have any chance of an orgasm…”

Bound spreadeagled and gagged, Sean lay on their bed. Anna had removed his chastity cage and was gearing up for an intimate teasing session.

“Say, do you ever think back to your stay at Anánke?” Anna asked while she slowly stroked his member.

“Mmmmhhm…”

“Over three weeks committed to the institute. No choices, no freedom, no voice… Utterly helpless… I really enjoyed the photos of those therapeutic sessions sent to me by Directrix Kovaleva during your evaluation stay, …and those three glorious weeks of holiday with Lars afterwards…”

Always on the lookout for a photo opportunity, Nurse Alina had taken up position to capture 'Nurse Anna’, with Sean fully restrained in a wheelchair, pushing her hubby along the ward towards the solitary confinement cell. It was one of Anna's most treasured mementos.

“Oh? So it isn't completely desensitised? But… if this is all that is going to happen I wonder if you even need a chastity cage now…”

“Mmmmhnng…”

“But what I really want to ask you… Directrix Kovaleva sent me an email last week with a line-up of newly developed sessions for ‘those heavier cases’, and she was wondering how you were doing these days. Funny how she immediately thought of you, right? Well, she hinted that there were a couple of vacancies for the next season, and as luck would have it, Lars called me yesterday to tell me he would like to take me along for a couple of weeks for a grand tour of Eastern Europe: Krakow, Vienna, Budapest, Bucharest… And then, onwards to the Black Sea and then Odesa… Oh, I've always wanted to see Odesa!”

“I was just thinking. If I'm going to get spoiled, and since we'd already be travelling that way... I think it would be a good idea to have you committed to the institution again.”

While Anna quite deliberately introduced a pause in her speech at this point, she let her eyes wander to the tattoo Sean had got done on his upper leg as a birthday gift to her – to her pleasant surprise. 'F408', it read in bold lettering, conforming precisely to Anánke's guidelines.

“Just for a little while. You know a stay there will do you good. Do you remember how sweetly affectionate you got after your stay? It took you some days to fully land after that, and for weeks you radiated with a wonderfully submissive glow. You know... I've never felt so loved and adored like I was this past year. You worship me.

“And, well, I also really like knowing you are safely put away while I let myself get pampered, well, fucked silly, really, by Lars.”

“Hmmmhngg!”

“But I didn't want to just make that decision without at least sounding you out... So...?”

Getting committed to the institution again, helpless, either receiving intense physical training or being utterly ignored. Having no notion of time or when I'll be released. That...

“Ah! I knew you'd agree! Don't worry honey, I'll arrange everything. Thank you! You just made me so happy!”

“Mnghh??”

Feeling quite satisfied, Anna looked at the rock-hard consent she held in her hand, and started enjoying the prospect of a well-deserved holiday for both.

The fact that Lars was thinking along the lines of months rather than weeks she carefully omitted. She considered the utter mindfuck of having been not quite voluntarily committed without any apparent end as one of the most beautiful gifts she could give her perverted sweetheart.