JG-Leathers - Finction-Page-031

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FICTION SECTION

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MENTAL INSTITUTION WEEKEND

“I have a surprise for you, Honey!” said the shapely woman in a Police uniform.

“No, but I can arrange it so you can be with me all weekend.” she said with a smile. I was a little taken aback. You see, my beautiful girlfriend is a Security Officer at the State mental institution for the criminally insane.
“There’s no way I could spend the week-end at the hospital.” she smiled. “Do you remember when we first met and I told you about the hospital? How it operated, all of the old closed down parts and the therapies they use on patients? You said you’d love to see and experience it and well now you can! I can get you committed for the week-end, if you’re still interested.”

“Commit me?” I asked. “I don’t think I’d like that on my résumé and what would they say at my office?”

“Oh don’t be silly!” she laughed, “No one at your work will ever know. We won’t check you in under your real name and the records will disappear after your visit is over.”

“I was having drinks with some of my closest friends from work and we started talking about how and if we could get someone in and out of the hospital safely. We decided it could be done and I mentioned that you’d love to do it. I know how much you like reading about mental institutions and so you’d get to see the inside of the hospital and how it all works.”

“OK,” I acknowledged with an embarrassed smile, “you’ve got me there, but I need some time to think about it. Why do your friends want do it?”

“Well, for one thing it’ll be cool to beat the system and also, we think it’ll be fun to have our own little patient. We want to do some of the tests and treatments on a normal person and see how they react, but don’t worry, there’ll be no real pain and no electric shock therapy.”

The next day I called Kelly and said I’d do it. I’d thought about her offer all night and finally knew that I just had to try it.

“I knew you were going to say yes!” Kelly said with a smile, then laid out her plan. It was like a military campaign because she’d had the schedules for herself and her co-conspirers arranged so that one of them would be near during the entirety of my hospital stay. Kelly’s friends included other security officers, nurses and a doctor: all women (cool!). She told me she’d soon have a file made up for me and it would show that I was a psychological mess; so much so that I’d have to be held in isolation all of the time. The Isolation Rooms in a Locked Ward would be the safest place for me to stay because only a few had access to that area. This made me feel better and I asked if I was going to have to share a room. She started laughing so hard her bra almost popped off.

“Don’t be silly! You’re going to be kept in a locked room all by yourself and as well you’ll be strapped down on a bed. Don’t worry though, I’ll by checking on you a lot!

“Well, OK, but I’m not really looking forward to being tied down for a full three days.”

“No way!” she smiled at my concern. “We are going to see the whole hospital.” Kelly would not tell me any more of the plan but said I’d be safe. “Trust me. You’ll have a great time!”

Our experiment was just a few weeks away and Kelly said she had lots of work to do to make sure it was all perfect. One nice thing was that the institution was about two hours from where I lived and so Kelly and I got together on the week-ends when she wasn’t working. I’d only met one or two of her work friends and so I’d not be spotted by anyone as Kelly’s boyfriend and she had a trick or two up her sleeve to keep me from being found out.

Finally it was Friday and the three day week-end arrived! I took off from work and grabbed my pack with some clothes and tooth brush, then drove up to her house. When I arrived and walked in she told me I wouldn’t need my things, because the State would be taking care of all my needs for the week-end. I had no idea how right she was! Kelly told me the use the rest room and take a shower, but before I did that, she told me I needed to cut off my hair and shave.

“That’ll make you unrecognizable to anyone who may have seen you before and after you shave off your beard I’m not sure that I’ll know who you are!”

We both laughed and soon after, there I was with the hair clipper, shaving my hair to less than an inch long and getting rid of my beard. She told me I could tell my friends and co-workers that I was painting over the week-end and got it all over my head.

“OK then, then tell them why you really shaved your head!” she replied with an evil grin of her own.

I must say I did look strange to myself after the shaving was completed and felt like a different person. After finishing my shower and drying off, I walked into the bedroom and Kelly had me sit down beside her on the bed. She asked me one more time if I was still ready and willing to go through with our adventure and when I replied in the affirmative she reminded me that people’s jobs were going to be on the line.

“Well ‘Alice’”, Kelly said with another grin, “it’s time to go down the rabbit hole!”

She handed me some boxers, a tee shirt and socks and when I looked at her she replied that they were state-issued. While I was putting on the underwear and socks, Kelly walked back from her closet and showed me a new yellow jump suit.

When she said that, she turned the jump suit around and on the back it said STATE MENTAL HOSPITAL PATIENT. Wow! A minute later I was zipped into it and beginning to feel the magnitude of that I was about to do. Kelly said she had a few things more things to do, then we’d take off for hospital. She grabbed a digital camera and told me to stand against the wall.

Kelly took a couple of pictures then had me turn to the right and shot a couple of others. While downloading the image to the computer she told me it would take a minute to photo-shop and print it out so that she could stick it into ‘my patient record’. I asked if I could see my file and she handed me a thick folder. Needless to say, I was surprised at how much information was in it; the data was all wrong of course, except for my medical history, height and weight.

“You really put a lot of work into this!” I said with admiration and she turned from the computer with an enchanting smile.

“Well, you have been a very bad boy! In and out of mental hospitals all of your life and of course it’s so sad you’re developmentally disabled, besides being crazy. Just remember, you only have an IQ of 50, and that makes you moderately retarded, but close enough to severe retardation for our requirements.”

“Well, because you’ll need more supervision in the hospital and that means we can stay closer to you than would normally be the case. Besides, we can all have more fun that way.” she said, lighting up with a big smile, then turning back to the computer. A minute later she was done, having cut and pasted the pictures into the folder, then while we walked into the attached garage, Kelly handed me my jacket and a baseball cap.

“Put these on. I don’t want to be seen driving a mental patient around!” she laughed. We got into her car and drove off into the night. While we drove, Kelly ask me if I’d looked at my name in the file.

“Well, I was so shocked about being mentally retarded that I forgot to look.”

“I thought it would appropriate, because Randal Patrick Mc Murphy was the guy from One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest. A guy who wasn’t really crazy, but wanted to get into the mental hospital, and so I thought it fit kind of neatly.”

Just then I saw the hospital. It had been built on top of a hill with two or three thousand acres of land around it and the initial sight of it made me cold and gave a sense of deep foreboding.

“This was the way they built them a long time ago, far away from the sane people.”

We turned off the main road onto an old ranch one that skirted the hospital’s grounds, then after a mile or so Kelly pulled off onto a dirt road that had a big steel gate sign stating ‘NO Trespassing! State Hospital Property’. Kelly stopped the car and opened the gate with her pass key and we drove in then she re-locked the gate. About a quarter of a mile further on we stopped in a heavily wooded area.

“Your ride will be here in a minute.” she stated cooly and would not tell me anything more, but I could see that she was very excited. I, on the other hand, was rethinking what I was about to do, entering a mental institution as a patient. It was about 10:30 when we saw lights coming our way and I was beginning to get really nervous, but Kelly said it was OK. It was just my transportation coming to get me. A white van with state insignia on the doors and no rear windows stopped in front of us and Kelly told me remain in the car, then walked over and greeted the female officers that got out of the van. Both were nice looking ladies in their early thirties, despite the severity of their uniforms and after a few seconds of conversation between them, Kelly waved for me to come over. When I got out of the car to walk towards the little group, one of the other officers spoke.

I dropped them onto the back seat and walked to the van where Kelly introduced the two women as Officer Adams and Officer Salazar. I knew Cathy Salazar a little, having met her at Kelly’s Christmas party last year and she had been Kelly’s only work friend there.

“OK, this is your last chance to back out, Brian.” she cautioned me. “Once we have you set up for transport, there’s no backing out.”

Of course by now I was very nervous, but I just couldn’t give up the chance to experience the loss of all control and there was no other way for me to experience what life was like in a mental institution as a patient.

“OK, I understand that.” I agreed, then Kelly gave me one of the best kisses of my life before turning to her friends.

Before I could process what that meant, Officer Adams reached around from behind and buckled a thick, wide, tan-coloured leather belt, complete with a large and sturdy ‘D’ ring at the front and its locking buckle at the centre of my back. Obviously, it was a restraint belt for transporting mentally challenged patients! Before I knew it, I had been fitted with a pair of handcuffs that went through the D-ring so that I could not move my hands away from my waist. While this was going on, Officer Salazar locked leg irons around my ankles, then attached a chain from the middle of the one joining the shackles and brought it up to my hand cuffs then locked it to their central link. I asked them if this was really necessary and Kelly responded immediately in a very sweet voice.

“Mr Murphy, you’re a very dangerous man, both to yourself and to us! This is how all high risk patients are brought into the institution.”

She was enjoying this far more than I thought she should, but then I was told to stick my hands out and each of Kelly’s friends pushed tight fitting mitts onto my hands and I heard a pair locks click closed. I could not open my hands! Officer Adams said the mitts would keep me from grabbing anyone or using anything as a weapon.

“I must say I feel safe now!” I gasped nervously and they all chucked a little. In less that a minute I had been handcuffed and chained and I could hardy wait to see what they were going to do to me next. I didn’t have long to wait because Kelly walked up with hypo in her hand.

“What the Hell is that for?” I asked, attempting to back away and almost tripping.

“The Doctor on our team knew you’d be tense, so she wrote out a prescription for a drug that will calm you down. Besides, it will give you that wild-eyed look that all patients have.” she said with a giggle. After she gave me the shot, she said she had one more prescription from the Doctor.

“Well, Mr Murphy, you’re retarded and a lot of people that are developmentally disabled talk funny. So, we wanted to make it easy for you to pull it off convincingly. That’s why I need to give you this shot, in and around your mouth and tongue. It’s like Novocain, but these will last about 24 hours.”

“Oh, OK. In for a penny, in for a pound I guess.” I said and opened my mouth. I’m not sure if Kelly was that good at giving shots (she does have medical training), or the other drug was taking effect, but I didn’t feel a thing when she injected my mouth and tongue.

“There’s one last item to fit you with, then we’ll get you into the van.” Officer Salazar said and pulled out a transport hood, then pulled it over my head. It had mesh netting from the top of my head to my eyes, then turned into a thick white padding. Obviously, it was designed to keep me from biting or spitting on someone and she confirmed that, but there was an addition I didn’t expect. Inside was a thick pad!

When I did, the pad slipped inside and she immediately pulled an outer strap tight, holding it firmly in place! My mind was reeling while I tried to take in all that happened to me in the past ten minutes, but then they opened the side door of the van and I saw what I was going to be seated in for transport to the institution. Behind the outer door was another: a cage door which opened to reveal two side-by-side chairs. They were like none I’d seen before, but looked a little like space ship seats or an electric chair! I wasn’t sure which, but they didn’t give me any time for thought. I was grabbed then hustled into the van and between the drugs and the chains I had trouble moving. Before I knew it, I was seated in the chair and they began strapping me in.

A wide belt went across my lap, then two were dropped over my shoulders and connected to it. Another went around my thighs as well as the next one, around my lower legs then all of them were locked. One thing was for sure, I was not going anywhere! I hoped they didn’t end up in a pond on the way to the hospital because fastened as I was, I’d drown for sure.

“Head back!” Officer Adams ordered, pushing my head against the rest then pulling a Velcro strap around my head bag, pinning it in place. Kelly snapped a picture of me then she spoke again.

The shots in my mouth had worked perfectly and I could feel drool running down my face from around the gag strap. They all laughed at my new manner of speech then locked the cage door.

“Well Mr Murphy, it’s time for you to go where you belong, the mental institution for the criminally insane. I hope you enjoy it! I know we certainly will!”

She shut the door with a bang and told her friends that it was time to deliver the patient. Inside the locked compartment of the van, it was suddenly very dark and lonely and I started feel like an object ... a package. Again, I asked myself what the Hell was I doing, but there was no blacking out now. Like Alice in Wonderland, I was diving deeper into the rabbit hole.

A minute later we were on our way to the hospital’s main gate and just as Kelly had said, I was going into the institution through the front gate all right, properly dressed and trussed up to make my entrance. In the separated cab up front, the two women didn’t say much and I guessed that they were getting into their parts, perhaps already thinking of me as a real patient. I was alone in the back, fastened inside a steel-walled chamber as the van drove through the massive gates and followed the road up the hill, passing the visitor’s entrance and pulling around the building then up to a very large, garage door.

“This is the patient entrance.” said officer Adams with a little dread in her voice, her voice coming tinnily through the speaker in my mobile cell. If she was trying to scare me it was working!

Officer Salazar called the hospital dispatch by radio and requested that the door to be opened, then and a moment later it started moving slowly upward. I could see little through the windshield, but of course couldn’t turn my head as we pulled into a large and empty receiving bay. I couldn’t see them of course, but waiting for us were two more male security officers and a female nurse. I didn’t know if she was a member of Kelly’s group, but the security officers were guys and so I knew there weren’t.

Salazar turned back towards me while smiling and I heard her voice on the speaker again.

We all sat in the van until the big door was completely closed and when it stopped with a deep thud, Kelly’s two friends jumped out and came to the side door then opened it. The three others walked up and one of the men asked what I was being admitted for. Officer Salazar had my file in her hand and said that for the time I was 5150 and being involuntary committed.

“It seems”, she continued, “that Mr Murphy here was in a group home in the eastern part of the state and started tearing up the place. The sheriffs had to use a Taser to get him in cuffs. Then, the county hospital couldn’t control him, so they had a judge write a court order to have him placed here with us at State until they can get a court date set and see if he’s competent to stand trial.”

‘Boy!’ I thought, ‘when Kelly makes up a story, she pulls out all the stops!

“They shot him up with 2cc of Ativan, but that was about four hours ago, so we have to be careful. Let’s get him out of the van and into reception. The admitting Doctor can give him his check-in physical.”

At this point I was released from the chair, then hustled out of the van and through a set of double doors into a waiting room of sorts, and there I was made to sit on a bench that was bolted to the wall. I was fastened in place with a locking seat belt, but did not remove any of my other restraints. The nurse walked over to check on me and one of the male officers cautioned her.

“I think Mr Murphy is quite safe now.” She turned and spoke to one of Kelly’s other friends. “Please call Dr Amanda. She’s on call tonight for night admissions.”

At this point, officers Adams and Salazar said that they were getting off work and walked past me.

I heard laughter in their voices and now I was even more scared because the two people I knew that were in on our game were gone and the nurse had not given me any sign she was also a participant in the deception. I felt very alone and where the Hell was Kelly? The nurse came over and asked if I knew where I was.

‘Now I need to start acting like a mental patient.’ I thought and with my best effort tried to reply, butof course it came out pretty bad, with my tongue and mouth all anaesthetized and being gagged.

“Yes, do you know why?”, she asked and I shook my head. “Do you know you tried to hurt people tonight?”

“That’s good. My name is Nurse Sally and I’ll be helping to give you a check-up, OK?”

A call came to the reception desk and we were informed that the Doctor would be here in two hours. In the meantime they were to put me in a tight room and get me out of the heavy transport restraints. Nurse Sally told the officers to take me to C-1 and she would grab a jacket kit then meet us there. The two security types unlocked the belt holding me to the bench and jerked me to my feet. They both had the look of ex-marines and the one wearing the sergeant’s stripes looked into my eyes and barked.

I nodded the best I could and they marched me down a long hall that looked like something out of the 1950's. I guess the State didn’t like spending money on upgrades for crazy people. While I was being taken down the hall, I almost had to laugh because I found it very funny that the same people who put a prisoner in hand cuffs, leg irons and chains, got mad because the prisoner wasn’t walking fast enough! The irony was thick. Before I knew it I was standing in the type of room which, until now, I had only read about. I stood in the middle of a chamber about eight feet by eight feet square with thickly-padded walls. Damn! A padded cell!

The cops held me by the shoulders, one on each side, in the centre of the floor, until Nurse Sally walked in dropped a couple of things on the floor then closed the door behind her.

“Mr Murphy, the Doctor will not be able to look at you for a few hours and you’ve had a long day so we’re going to make you a little more comfortable if you work with us, OK?”

Nodding my head to indicate agreement, I gave up on trying to talk. To my surprise the officers removed the chain between my handcuffs and my leg irons, then they removed the mitts and I wiggled my fingers. The Sergeant stood behind me while the other officer removed my cuffs and the transport belt, but I think he was ready to put a choke hold on me if I made a false move. The next step was kind of nice because the nurse began unzipping my jump suit, but stopped at my waist then pulled the top part down. Sally walked over and picked up the white thing on the floor, holding it up towards me. It was a strait jacket. I’d read about and dreamed of being put in one and this was too good to be true, but I decided to pull back a little and mumble, just so they’d think I didn’t want to wear it.

“Don’t worry we’re not going to hurt you.” she said and the cops held me more tightly. “Please raise your arms in front of you.”

The nurse held up the jacket and the two guys pushed each of my arms to one of the long sleeves, then the Sergeant started tighten the straps down its back. After I was cinched up my arms were guided through the front strap and one at a time then they pulled my arms around my body then buckled the long straps from the ends of the sleeve at my front. This was wild! I was in a maximum security mental institution, now locked into a real strait jacket and the people who’d placed me in it were totally unaware of the charade. After they finished getting me into the jacket, Sally started to pull down my jump suit and I jumped a little. The officers tightened their hold and said she was going to remove my jump suit and boxers, then place an adult, disposable diaper on me. This was not what I had in mind when I checked in, but now I wasn’t in position to control what was happening and so a moment later my shorts came off and the diaper when on. The officers next removed my leg irons and after they were off, the sergeant had me step out of my underwear and jump suit. Sally shoved them away and placed some scrub pants on the floor in front, but before I stepped into the pants, the other officer fitted two locking leather restraints around my ankles, then the nurses pulled up the pants and tightened the Velcro strap on the waist band.

“Almost done!” Sally said, then grabbed two straps I’d not noticed before. They hung from the bottom front of the strait jacket and she quickly handed them under my crotch to the Sergeant. He immediately pulled both of them tight and I started to yell when they began to crush my testicles. I was pretty sure that the Sergeant had done it on purpose, but they adjusted the straps and the pain went away, then the officer locked my ankle cuffs together with a short, sturdy, tan coloured strap. Sally told me to kneel and when I did, the three of them laid me on my side. She knelt next to me and patted me on my side.

“Ok Mr Murphy. I want you to try and rest. Get some sleep if you can. I’ll be checking on you to make sure you’re OK.”

I mumbled that I was scared, that people were trying to hurt me, but really, I wasn’t. I was just getting more fully into the act and actually, was having a really great time.

“Its OK. I won’t let anyone hurt you Mr Murphy.” As she stood up, the Sergeant asked if she was going to remove the transport hood and she replied. “No. In the file it says he likes to spit, so let’s just leave it on until the Doctor looks at him.”

With that, they all left the room and the door shut with a soft thud; almost the eerie sound of tomb door closing, then it became very quiet. I lay on the floor, totally amazed at what I was wearing (for real!!) and where I was. It was then that I began to struggle and I soon realized that I couldn’t move my arms or get onto my feet, then I began to wonder where Kelly was. Guessing that it was after midnight, I decided to try and get some sleep until the next stage of the process, and so lay fantasizing, but my mind was in a turmoil of arousal and some fear. I couldn’t sleep.

Doctor Amanda Smith walked into patient reception area wearing a white lab coat over her green scrubs; her blond hair pulled back in a pony tail.

“Well,” Sally said, picking up my file, “we have a male, 39, 225 lbs, 6'1", developmentally disabled, with paranoid schizophrenia. He became violent and tore up his group home when he thought the other residents were trying to kill him. At the moment he’s resting peacefully with 2cc of Ativan in him.”

“What a mess.” the doctor said taking the file and reading through it. The other staff on duty barely looked up while Amanda read my case history out loud because they must have heard 100 others just as bad. “OK. Before we start, call the on duty security folks to help us with this guy, just in case.”

A few minutes later I was alerted that something else was about to happen when the sound of the padded cell door opening came through my hood. The doctor walked over and knelt down next to me then spoke quietly.

“Mr Murphy, I’m Doctor Smith and will be your admitting doctor. Do you know where you are?”
I mumbled around the gag.

I tried to jerk back and talk, scared that she was serious, yelling that she couldn’t do that and other more colourful things. She stood up and started laughing, then Kelly stepped into the room with a big smile.

“You should have seen your eyes!” and they both laughed again, then Kelly asked me how I was holding up. I nodded and Dr Smith went over with me that I always needed to stay in role as a mental patient, unless I was told otherwise and asked if I understood. I agreed with her of course.

“OK,” she said, “now we have to put you through a physical examination to properly admit you, then after that’s done we’ll get you bedded down for the night.” I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep, but she spoke again. “We can take care of your sleeping quite effectively.”

Kelly knelt down and rubbed my shoulder then asked if I needed anything or had any questions, but being gagged I could only nod or shake my head. I was just along for the ride and she smiled down at me.

“Kelly that was a very good idea about those shots in his mouth and then the gag.” Amanda commented. “It’s hard, if not impossible, for Mr Murphy to be out of character.”

“Mr Murphy.” Kelly said. “We’re going to unlock your legs and help you to your feet.”

A few moments later I was back in the examination room where Sally joined us, and together they helped me up onto the examination table where Kelly immediately locked my ankle cuffs together then she and Sally started removing the strait jacket and hood’s gag. As soon as I was out of the ‘jacket they had me slide up the table and lay down again, then one on each side fitted leather restraint cuffs around my upper arms and wrists and locked me onto the exam table. One of them cut my tee shirt off, but I didn’t say a word. They were in control and doing things as they always did. Dr Smith checked my heart, ran an EKG, looked down my throat and took some blood, then also ran a mobile x-ray machine over my whole body. As all this was being done the Sergeant walked in and asked how it was going. They replied that I wasn’t being a problem and after he left, Kelly spoke softly into my ear.

“That’s one of the reasons we have to treat you like a real patient. Anyone can and will walk in.”

Amanda came to my side and told me that because of ‘my condition’ I would be spending most of my time in restraints and she wanted to clean out my system with an enema. I looked at her, then Kelly.

“It’s OK.” she said. “It’ll make it easier for you and when we’re done, you won’t be soiling your disposable diapers if we’re not right there to get you to the toilet. I nodded OK and they released me from the table, then led me to the ‘wet room’ as they called it. It had an open shower area and a little side room with a metal chair and toilet seat, and a drain in the floor underneath. I was not looking forward to this part of my treatment, but they didn’t care and quickly removed my disposable diaper then sat me down on the chair, locking my arms and legs to its structure. The doctor told me that Kelly would next place the enema probe in my behind.

“Please be gentle,” I mumbled, “it’s my first time!” They all laughed, then Kelly told me that the procedure would be fast and painless.

“The probe has an inlet and an outlet hose, so the warm water goes in one and all the dirty water comes out the other into the drain in the floor.”

She put on gloves, lubed the probe and my back side with KY jelly, then positioned the enema probe and slowly pressed it into my body. The process was not as bad I as I’d feared it would be, but after the clean out, she told me that I’d also need to be fitted with a urinary catheter. I didn’t have much choice.

I’d read about catheters and it sounded like they could be painful, but the process was already under way. Kelly had put on another set of gloves and started lubricating the catheter tube, then a moment later introduced it into my urethra. It was as bad as I had read, but Kelly was quick and after she was done inflating the balloon on the internal end of the catheter, she looked up at me.

“Not until you check out, otherwise every three days.” She said while strapping a plastic collection bag to my leg and connecting the hose from the catheter. “Now, you don’t have worry about wetting the bed.”

The doctor asked Sally to go get a wheel chair to move me to my room and a few minutes later she returned pushing a sturdy chair.

“This is a wheel chair for people with special needs.” I was told by Amanda before she seated me. My arms were unlocked from the enema chair, but not my feet and I was told to stand up, then Sally wiped me off with something like baby wipes and replaced my disposable diaper. Kelly came over with a funny looking hospital gown.

“This is your suicide watch gown, Mr Murphy. We don’t want you hurting yourself, do we?”

Sally helped her get me into the sleeveless shift, but it had no buttons or zippers, just Velcro. They unlocked my legs, then quickly moved me to the wheelchair and in moments I was strapped down from head to toe, again.

With Kelly and Amanda by her side, Sally started pushing me and along the hallway to the Locked Ward and so took me through the heart of the institution. I asked if I should stay silent as we went through the main part of the hospital and she looked down at me and smiled.

“Mr Murphy you can say anything you want because you’re completely insane. In fact at some point in your stay, you’ll tell someone you don’t really belong here.”

The three of them laughed again and I realized she was right. I could probability say anything I wanted thanks to my record. I was shown as a paranoid schizophrenic with hallucinations and delusions, to say nothing of being developmentally disabled and so was sure no one would believe a thing I had to say. So far, the ride was going well. I tried to see as much as my field of vision would let me, but it’s hard to see a lot when your head is strapped to a head rest. There were lots of dark halls thanks to the late hour and the nurse’s stations were very quiet, with only a few people manning them. The Locked Ward was in the older part of the hospital and Kelly said they led off to the hydrotherapy rooms and the morgue. I would be spending time in both places before I was released. The trip was uneventful with the exception of one of Sally’s friends, a nurse from the east ward, who stopped us to ask Sally about the party she was planning for next week. It was strange to hear the girls talking about the party as if I wasn’t present, but there I was strapped in a wheelchair, and to them I was just an object. I decided it was time to moan a little and Amanda said that they’d better to get me to my room and with that we were on the way again. I was rolled down another long dark hall then through big heavy doors; each with one very small window until we eventually stopped at a door marked Isolation Room I-13. Kelly pulled out a four inch long key that looked like one from a jail house in an old western movie, then with a loud clatter, the door was opened and they rolled me inside. They had me out of the wheelchair then onto the bed and with great speed and before my head hit the pillow, Kelly started strapping me down in a five-point bed restraint system. In seconds I was fully immobilized: one strap across my chest, one wide belt around my waist and strapped to the bed, my hands in soft leather cuffs locked to the wide belt strap and my ankles in leather cuffs strapped to the bed. Kelly checked her work and confirmed that I was very secure.

“Well Mr Murphy, you are now officially a State Hospital Mental Patient. How do you feel?”

The doctor pulled out a hypo and as she pushed the needle into the side of my arm, said that we all were going to have big day tomorrow and this shot would help me sleep.

“We’ll be running you though a lot of evaluations and so we’re going to leave now so you can get some sleep. I’ll leave orders for the night staff to call me if your condition changes. Mr Murphy would you like some water?”

I nodded my head and Kelly gave me a drink from a sports bottle. I had a bad case of dry mouth and wasn’t sure if it was from the shots I had been given or all the excitement of my adventure.

“We’ve given you all of the medications you’ll need tonight, so the only thing the nurse will check is your catheter bag. Any questions Mr Murphy?”

As they started to leave Kelly, touched my shoulder and moved her lips to say, ‘I love you’. I just smiled and kind of grunted, then when they walked out, the door closed like that of a tomb. I heard the big key turning and the lock’s dead bolt slid into place with ‘thud’. I was locked in all right! The air in my cell was still and heavy while I lay alone and locked down, going over in my mind how my life had changed in just the last few hours. I quickly accepted that since I had no control, I didn’t need to worry about anything because I was just a crazy patient in a mental institution and so, moments later, I fell into a deep sleep.

I suddenly felt someone pulling the blanket off my legs and at first was scared and confused, unsure of where I was, then I tried to sit up but immediately discovered that I was held down. At this point the person pulling on the blanket jumped back and pointed a small flash light towards my face.

“You scared the heavens out of me! Calm down Mr Murphy. I’m just checking your catheter bag.”

She said that I was in the state hospital and with that I calmed down and felt safe again. The shots to my mouth were still working and that was a good thing because being awakened from such a deep sleep, I hadn’t remembered where I was and surely would have not remembered to talk with my retarded voice. The funny thing was that once she told me I was in the State Hospital, I felt safe, whereas most people would have been terrified. This must be the night nurse I thought.

“OK, honey.” (I bet she called everybody honey), “I’ve changed your bag so you can go back to sleep.”
I tried to thank her, then fell back in to a deep sleep until I was awakened by the overhead light coming on and a nurse, I think the one that changed my catheter bag during the night, spoke again.

“Time to wake up Mr Murphy.” She came across to my bed and checked my bag and disposable diaper. “Good, nothing to change.

“My name is Nurse Ann.” She turned the handle at the foot of the bed, moving me more into a sitting position. Ann was older than the other nurses I’d seen so far, about 50 or so, and had a kind smile. “I’ll be feeding you this morning Mr Murphy. Are you hungry?”

I nodded my head and watched her bring in a tray with what looked like a milk shake and a glass of water.
“The doctor has placed you on a liquid diet, because your chart said something about choking on solid food last night.”

I thought to myself that the girls were up to their tricks again, but I was glad to get any nourishment because I hadn’t eaten last night before the drive to Kelly’s house. She placed the straw in my mouth and I drank the shake, then when I was done, she asked if I would like another.

“Yes please.” I mumbled and she bought another then watched while I gulped it down.

“Well,” she said, taking a wash cloth and wiping my face, “you look like you’re doing much better today than last night.”

I couldn’t decide if she was one of Kelly’s friends in on the deception, or just a very nice and caring nurse. However, I couldn’t be sure and so kept up my act as a confused mental patient.

“They brought you in yesterday evening.” Anne said. “Now, I have other patients to check on, but I’ll be back to look in on you later.”

I spent some time testing my bonds, but after a few seconds realized that I was not going to be going anywhere and so just sat there and thought about what my first full day as a mental patient was going to be like. I didn’t have to wait long. The door to my cell opened and Nurse Sally and Doctor Amanda walked in.

“Well, maybe you really are crazy Mr Murphy! However, we have a full day of testing to find out. Are you ready?”

“OK. Nurse Sally, please go and get Mr Murphy a set of red scrubs. You see, Mr Murphy,” she said, turning to me, “red indicates a high risk patient and so alert other staff to who they’re dealing with.”

Sally quickly returned with the garments and I was released from the bed and told to remove my suicide watch gown, then dressed in the red scrubs. Sally produced a leather transport belt plus four leather cuffs and they quickly locked the ensemble onto me then hooked a short leather strap to the restraints on my arms, going through the D-ring on my belt. My ankle cuffs were connected with another strap and so I could move my hands a little more than last night and walk, but not very fast.

“OK Mr Murphy, we’re going to give you a little more freedom today, but if you act out, we’ll have to fit you with stricter restraints.”

Sally rolled up a normal looking wheelchair, however it did have a locking seat belt. I was guided into it and soon belted in, then we were off down the halls. Amanda told Sally she had to go to her office to get some papers and would meet us at the Behavioural Assessment Ward. Sally continued to push me along, with many twists and turns, because the hospital was a big maze, but even so, it was abuzz with activity, what with staff moving back and forth and patients wandering around talking to themselves. Others just stood in the wards looking at the walls. Eventually we came to a nurse’s station and Sally asked the lady at the desk if she would watch her patient while she ran to the rest room. The desk nurse asked if I would cause trouble, referring of course to my red uniform, but Sally told her not to worry because I was sedated.

It’s very strange to be talked about, but not be talked too, then left with someone to be watched as though I was only an inanimate package. Oh well, I wanted to know what it was like to be a mental patient and was now finding out exactly how it felt.

“Don’t go anywhere!” Sally patted me on the head, then locked the wheels and just a minute after she walked out of sight all Hell broke lose. Alarm bells rang and the staff and two security types went running down the hall. The desk nurse that had said she would watch me, ran off too. I felt very vulnerable, being left and thought, ‘Just try not to draw any attention.’ It didn’t work. A patient walked up to where I sat locked to the chair.

He sounded about as dumb as my chart said I was and so I just gave him my best try at ‘the lights are on but no one’s home’ look. He wasn’t a big man, but walked like he was the cock of the ward.

“You must be a really bad guy because you’re in a red outfit. You don’t look so tough to me.”

With that he popped me in the face! I was shocked and at a disadvantage, thanks to being locked in my wheel chair and in full restraints. I looked at him with the most hateful look I could and growled, but he laughed and hit me again. Thank goodness when Sally returned and saw what was going on she came running, calling an orderly for assistance and they grabbed the other patient then pushed him against the wall. She asked him to take care of the other patient because she needed to get me over to Clinical Testing, then pushed my wheel chair down another long corridor.

“I’m OK and if that was the worst thing that happens to me, I’ll be doing good.”

With a laugh she said I was right and that didn’t make me feel very good. I saw as we rolled along the corridor that the walls were painted with beautiful murals and asked her who’d done them, for they were master pieces. She told me that inmates had done them away back in the 1930's and apparently the fact that they’d been crazy didn’t stop them from being great artists. At last we came to a wing of the building that the Psychological Evaluation Section was located in and I was pushed into a room then told that the doctor would be in soon to start my testing. Sally locked the wheels of my chair and again cautioned me with a smile about not wandering off. The door locked behind her and I looked around the room, finding that it was furnished with only a desk, a chair and a table. What a difference there was in my life since yesterday! I’d lost all say in my life, just like a real mental patient and while I sat there evaluating my situation, Dr Amanda walked in and asked how I was doing. I said good, but was not happy about the liquid diet.

“Sorry, but in your condition, Mr Murphy, you’ll be on it for your entire stay with us. Now, let’s get down to work.” She pulled out a big folder, then told me that I was going to be taking the standard 500 question test that all the patients take when they arrive. “Answer the best you can. I really wanted to test you so I can use it for a study I’m working on, but don’t worry, I have another one already completed that will go into your file. It was done by a real patient who is a paranoid schizophrenic and so it will look right. Since we can’t unlock you, I will read the questions and you will say the answer. OK?”

I agreed of course, and the test took over three hours to complete. During it, I was given water and a nurse came in to check my catheter bag. Surprisingly it tired me, but Amanda was very happy and kept saying how perfect it was going to be. At last she said Nurse Sally would be back in a few minutes to take me to my next appointment and soon I was being wheeled off to the Hydrotherapy Area. We arrived quickly and within a few minutes I was taken by three other nurses, stripped and placed in a nice warm tub. I was feeling pretty rested after my bath, but Sally said that I had a few more hours of testing ahead and so we were off again, back to the Evaluation Section. This time I was taken to a room with a large TV screen and a lot of ominous looking testing equipment then placed in front of the screen and Sally began taping wires all over me. Of course I asked what it was all for but she only said that the doctor would tell me. I also asked about Kelly was told that patients could not ask or be told the location of hospital employees, but, she said, Kelly would be working tonight, and she had a surprise for me. Dr Smith walked in and said she was very happy with my test scores and that I would make a great subject.

“Subject for what?” I asked with a little fear with my voice, still suffering from the effects of the drugs Amanda had prescribed the previous night. She smiled.

“As Kelly told you, we have a quite a few tests and treatments we want to do on a normal person to see how they react, then we’ll compare your results to those from other patients. You’re the test subject.”

“No, you’ll be fine. The therapies to be used to cure you may be a little more stressful though, but they shouldn’t be beyond your tolerance levels.” she smiled easily, but I saw a strange glitter in her eyes.

That was not as positive an answer as I wanted to hear, but I reminded myself that I was just a patient in a mental hospital and had no choices. I said to Amanda that doctor knows best and she smiled very brightly then went back to work, setting up the next test.

“This set of tests will show how you react to visual input and it will basically tell us what turns you on.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted my deepest turn-on’s exposed to others, but it was all part of the treatment. She turned the lights off and started a video that flashed images on the screen; women on women, women on men, men on men, fetishistic stuff, B&D and S&M situations, TV stuff and else you can think of. The instruments recorded my every reaction and then finally, after about three hours of this it was over. I was very frustrated and wanted some sort of sexual release, but that was not to be. Amanda told me that she was going to process the data in her office and would send someone to take me back to my room, then left me alone and locked the door behind her. Moments later I heard it unlocked and a voice I’d not heard before called in.

A young female psych. technician came into view and along with her was an older male security officer. It was time to go into my patient act and so I started asking them where was I, who I was and acting paranoid. They looked at each other knowingly then the tech started pushing me back to my room. I began acting withdrawn and once again found it interesting to have people talk about me as though I wasn’t there. The tech told the security guy about me, reading from my file, and I have to admit that it was pretty entertaining. It was actually kind of exciting that I was in a maximum security mental institution, with all of the people thinking I really was a patient. It was too bad that when I got out, the only person I’d be able to talk to it about would be Kelly, but maybe I’d write a book about my experience even though just one week-end would not be enough time. I’d have to think about it for a while and perhaps do for a longer stay at some future point. While I was rolled down the halls, I looked at all of the patients, tech’s, nurses and doctors. I was having a great time, but when we got back to the Locked Ward Section I thought how heavy the air seemed. The guard opened the door to my cell, then I was pushed into the room and strange as it may seem, it felt good to be home. I was promptly released from the wheelchair and moved to my bed, then while I was being strapped down, I began resisting a little, just to give them the idea that I did not want to be here. Actually, that was farthest thing from my mind! After I’d been secured, she asked if I was hungry and I nodded. She smiled and cranked up my bed then walked out of the room with the cop in tow, locking the door behind them. A few minutes later she returned alone with another milk shake type drink and I spoke with my still slurred voice.

“Nope, sorry. Doctors orders.” She shook her head and with that pushed the straw into my mouth.

After feeding me, she checked my catheter bag, then picked up the chart on the end of the bed and made some notes. While she was doing this, I asked her why I was in here and she wrote more notes.

She left the room and the lock snapped shut with finality. I knew then for sure that the girls were letting people take care of me who knew nothing about me not being a real patient! I thought that it was so cool that I was passing as a mentally challenged person, but then, I started wondering; were the Hell was Kelly? She was supposed to be coming to see me tonight, but there was no way I could do anything other than lie there and wait helplessly. What else could I do, being confined by a five-point bed restraint system? Somehow, sleep soon claimed me.

I was awakened by the noise of the lock operating and when the door swung open a flash light was pointed in my face. I thought it was the night nurse checking on me and so trying to keep my act up to par, I started pulling against my restraints and moaning. Kelly’s sweet voice come out of the darkness.

“Why what’s wrong, Mr Murphy? Are you not happy withy our accommodations?” She closed the door and laughed out loud. “You look as sung as a bug in a rug and it would appear that you’re enjoying it very much.”

I said that I was, but before I finished the words, I realized that my voice was back to normal. I asked what time it was.

“Yes Mr Murphy, we never lie to our patients.” she said with a big smile. “I see by your chart that you’ve been doing a little acting. That’s good. Remember to use the information I gave you last week about Paranoid Schizophrenia when doing your acting.”

“Well, we’re going to dress you up as a night repair man, and they all have to have a security escort, like me.”

“How will we get out of the ward without being seen and what if the night nurse comes to check on me and I’m not here?”

“Don’t worry. The night nurse for is on our team so no one will be looking for you. Now, let me release you and get you dressed in the repairman’s outfit, but before I release you, let me remove your catheter. We can’t have a repairman walking around wearing a catheter bag now, can we?” Kelly smiled then quickly removed the catheter. In no time I was dress as required and Kelly had brought a fake mustache for me. She’d thought of everything. As we left my cell we ran into the night nurse Patti.

“Make sure you bring Mr Murphy back before morning roll call.” They both laughed. “Have fun you two.”
Kelly took me on a grand tour of the hospital, through the wards, therapy rooms and up to the watch tower, then we moved back into the heart of the hospital and down into the underground utility tunnels that ran between all of the buildings.

Kelly grabbed me and we took off; first back to the ground level, then she told me we were heading to the oldest section of the hospital, even though now it was mostly used for offices and storage. We walked through rows of desks, boxes and just pain junk, then after we’d all passed this, came to a big iron door. Kelly pulled a key from the utility belt she had given me to wear and it too was big and old. The door opened with a creaking sound.

“No one comes down here unless they have too.” Kelly said, opening it further to reveal a set of narrow stairs that went down at least 25 feet. As I started down, Kelly locked the door behind us.

“We don’t want any uninvited guests, now do we?” she said with an evil look in her eye. “This is the oldest part of the hospital and was built to hold the uncontrollable patients. Now we just drug them, but back in the old days, they’d put them down here in what they called The Pit. They could yell as loud as they wanted and no one in the rest of the hospital could hear them.”

When we got to the bottom, a hall stretched out in front of us with about what looked like 50 prison cells. We walked along it until Kelly stoped and opened the door to the one near the end of the corridor.

“This one looks good for you.” She urged me to step inside, then turned and closed its door, locking it from the inside. It was made of thick steel with a small peek hole to view the person inside and also had a little door to slide food in.

“Oh, nothing much. Just a little fooling around with my patient.” With that she turned to the shelf and lit a couple of candles, then turned back to me. “I cleaned the bed and the room last week, just for us.” She removed her ball cap and let her dark, long, thick, hair down then shook her head and ran her hand through it. “I’ve been wanting you so bad these last two days, my little patient, and now it’s just you and I in a room where no one can hear us scream.”

We started tearing each other’s clothes off, falling onto the bed and started making wild love for by this time I was almost wild with arousal, having been kept restrained. After our first round we lay on the cot and it was then I noticed that the wall over the cot had a large ring attached. It was big enough to pass chain or handcuffs through and this gave me an idea. I got off the cot and picked up Kelly’s utility belt: the one with her radio, billy club, pepper spay and of course, her handcuffs.

I pulled the cuffs from their pouch and sat on the cot next to her, then before she could say a thing, I snapped one of the cuffs around her left wrist and she started to pull back to fight me.

“Trust me.” I calmed her and she relaxed, then ran the other part of the cuff through the ring on the wall, placed her other hand in it, and locked it. “Officer Kelly I think you may be in trouble! We’re deep in the catacombs of a mental institution and you’re locked in a cell and chained to the wall with a delusional developmentally disabled crazy man! I’d say you’re in a bad spot!” I laughed in my most comic strip, evil sounding laugh. Kelly looked at me with a little worry, momentarily forgetting that we were both playing a part.

“I’m very scared!” she replied in a bad movie voice and laughed. “Are you going to stare at me all night or ravage me? Come on baby take me!”

We started round two, but this time with Kelly’s hands cuffed to the wall. After, I asked her what she was thinking and she said that she was surprised how much she liked being restrained during love making.

She smiled and said great but wanted me to release her, promising not to make a report on my bad behaviour. We both laughed and I took off the cuffs, then she grabbed me by the neck and gave me a wonderfully intense kiss.

“We’ve got to get going. I have to have you back into your room before the morning rounds.”

We both dressed quickly then started the trek out of The Pit and back into the world of the living. While we walked down the long deserted halls, Kelly’s radio crackled to life and the voice on the other end said that she needed to report to the watch commander’s office ASAP.

“Crap! I can’t take you with me and I can’t let you walk around on your own.” Then a smile came across her face. “We’re near the morgue.” She gabbed my arm. “Follow me!”

We ran into the grim room and Kelly immediately went to a cabinet, pulled out a big black bag then ran to a wall of drawers. She pulled out her keys and unlocked a drawer on the bottom row, pulled it all the way out and laid the bag on the bottom. I immediately knew that it was a body bag, and the drawer was where the cadavers were stored.

“Look,” she said calmly, “it’s all clean, and if you don’t, we’ll all be in trouble! Trust me, OK?”

“Oh my God!” I said with unreasonable fear, but lay down in the opened body bag and she zipped it to my neck.

She gave me a quick kiss and finished zipping up the bag, then pushed the drawer closed and locked it, leaving me there in total blackness, wondering what was going to happen next. The bag was secure and there was no way I could open it from the inside! I began to panic a little, knowing also that the drawer was also locked. Was Kelly going to be sent to another area in the hospital? Was she in trouble? Had she been fired? All of these scary thoughts tumbled through my mind and then I began to wonder how long I’d be in here. It seemed like hours, but I had no way of knowing how much time passed, but eventually I heard the key being pushed into the lock and the drawer was pulled out. I lay still, playing dead, not knowing who had opened the drawer, then a pair of hands grabbed the body bag and quickly started unzipping it. I laid there, not breathing, then the hands grabbed my face and I heard Kelly’s voice.

“BOO!” I said for I could not stop myself, then opened my eyes to see Kelly looking more than a little pissed off. “You look mad.”

“You? I’m the one in the morgue drawer! Never mind though. Is everything OK?”

“Yeah. The watch commander needed me to check a report about another patient who got into a fight. Now I have to get you back to your room.”

I climbed out and we were off to the Isolation Ward and my room. While we walked down the hall Patti ran up and said we were cutting it close. She’d been getting worried, but Kelly said she would explain later. Right now they need to get me hooked up to the catheter bag and back into my bed restraints. Once we were in the cell, Kelly ordered me to strip, but I was reluctant because Patti was still in the room.

“She’s a nurse and we have no time.” she said with a little frustration. “Strip!”

I did as I was told and after I’d removed all of my clothes, Kelly re-inserted the catheter tube and connected the hose to the bag, strapped it to my leg and fitted my disposable diaper. Patti dressed me in the suicide watch gown then began fitting the restraints and within two minutes I was once more fastened to the bed. Patti pulled out a hypo.

I did and Patti gave me another series of shots in the mouth and then one in the arm.

“The Doctor wants you to get some rest before they start your treatment today, so she prescribed 2cc of Ativan.” After she was done, they both checked the room and me to make sure that all was in order then Kelly spoke again.

“I must leave you now. Patti will get your breakfast and you need to get some rest before Amanda starts your treatment.”

Of course I was curious about what this ‘treatment’ was going to be, but she just grinned at me with an evil smile.

“That’s a surprise. I’ll see you tonight or maybe tomorrow morning, depending on how well your treatment goes.”

She would say no more, but kissed me and left. Patti said she would be back with my breakfast shake in a while then also left, and I wondered with some concern about what was in store for me while I dozed off.

I’m not sure how long I slept, but after Patti gave me my breakfast shake, I fell into a deep sleep and the next thing I knew, I was looking up into the face of Dr Smith.

“Hello, Mr Murphy. It’s time to discuss your treatment. All of the tests we did on you yesterday show that you will be the perfect candidate for this therapy and I would very much like you to undertake it.”

“Nothing at all. Just lay there.” she said with an evil smile. “Basically, your treatment is an updated version of the Wet Pack Therapy. I’ve done a great deal of research on the mind and how it reacts to sensory deprivation and my theory is that this treatment may help patients with psychotic episodes. However, I need to test it on a normal person like you first, before we try it on the insane.

“The Wet Pack is a treatment that’s seldom used anymore, even though leading doctors have presented results from a national survey which reviewed its recent use on 46 hospitalized psychiatric patients and concluded that the treatment is safe. It has some interesting and useful effects, such as out-of-body experiences, that go beyond the concept of simple restraint. A further study of treatment was recommended and I want to try it.”

“OK, let’s do it. Besides, I’m in here on an involuntary commitment, so it’s not like I have a choice.” I said with a laugh.

“Why Mr Murphy, you’re so right!” She smiled at me and said with a silky voice.

I’d read about wet packs and so I knew a little of how it was done. I was going to be wrapped up like a mummy and completely immobilized and I thought that was very cool, but she added to my knowledge.

“As part of the experiment, you will be fitted with sensors all over your body and you may be wrapped up for as long as 24 hours.”

“There’s another aspect to this treatment also, Mr Murphy. My treatment requires that you be controlled in all aspects and so you’ll be placed on a ventilator so that we can monitor your air intake.”

I wasn’t too thrilled about that and especially the use of an endo-tracheal tube.

“The staff that will prepare you for the Wet Pack are not on our team and so when they come to collect you, stay in character, OK? I know you’re going to enjoy yourself, especially after reading the results of your tests from yesterday. Mr Murphy you really are a very sick man!” she said with a smile. “In a few minutes I’ll send the staff to come and get you.”

I again felt like I was Alice in wonderland, waiting for the Mad Hatter’s tea party to start, but didn’t know how right I was! A couple of minutes later the door opened and in walked officer Cathy, Sally and a female psych tech pushing a wheel chair. Cathy came over to me.

I looked up at her and pulled frantically against my restraints making unintelligible sounds.

“It’s OK. We’re just going to take you for treatment.” Officer Salazar said and began releasing my bed restraints. By this time they had the drill down pat: she’d get me onto my feet and Sally would dress me in the red scrubs. While this was taking place, Cathy started putting me back in my transportation restraints; first came the belly strap, then the leather wrist cuffs connected through the D ring on it, while the psych tech wrapped my ankles in the leather cuffs. As always, a short strap connected them to keep me from running or kicking.

While all of this pulling, tugging and strapping was going on, I started to think that maybe Amanda was right. I really was sick to be enjoying this so much! Then I thought how lucky I was to have a girlfriend like Kelly who could make this all happen for me. Yes I was a very lucky guy, but then I was snapped back into the here and now when I was pushed into the wheelchair.

“He doesn’t seem to be as violent as his chart indicates.” the psych tech noted.

“He’s generally very submissive. However for no apparent reason he’ll go crazy and attack anyone in sight so we’re taking no chances and will keep Mr Murphy locked up tight, for our safety and his. Isn’t that right Mr Murphy?”

I just stared back at her and grunted. Officer Salazar reminded the group that they needed to get me over to the Prep Room for my treatment and with that we were on our way. Rolling through the hallways was exciting because something was always going on, but we soon entered a room labelled Prep-One. When I was pushed inside, I looked around and saw a lightly padded Gurney and lot of other ominous medical equipment. In the midst of it all was Dr Smith and a team of medical people, including a guy with a camcorder.

The staff were in scrubs and most of them I’d not seen before, so for sure there would be no question for them that I was in fact a real patient. I was rolled over to the table and rapidly removed from the wheelchair, then placed on the Gurney and strapped down. Once I’d been secured Amanda spoke to one of the nurses.

“Please start an IV drip.” then, she turned to me. “Hello again, Mr Murphy! How are you doing today”

“Where am I?” I responded in my retired voice. “You’re trying to kill me!”

“He’s delusional for sure”. I heard a voice in the group tell some else. Dr Smith start ordered the team to prepare me for an endo-tracheal intubation, then told others to get started hooking-up the EKG, oxygen monitor, body temp sensors and a bunch of other probes and sensors that I’d never heard of. I lay there stripped of my scrubs and strapped into immobility while all of the various pieces of medical gear were attached to my body, head and face.

“Ok Mr Murphy. We’re going to give you some general anaesthesia next and once you’re out, we’ll fit you with the endo-tracheal tube. Trust me, you don’t want to be awake when we do this. When you wake up, you’ll not be able to talk, however you shouldn’t be in any pain. Do you understand?”

“You’re trying to kill me!” I tried to shout again, struggling against my restraints.

“I always try to explain to the patients what is going to happen to them,” Amanda turned to her staff and said, “but sometimes it doesn’t do any good.”

One nurse asked if it was right to try an experimental treatment on such a sick patient and Amanda told her that first the treatment was safe. Too, she had permission from the head of psychiatry and she explained that she needed the data from my treatment as a benchmark, but actually there was little hope of the treatment helping to cure my condition.

The anesthesiologist placed a mask over my face and told me to breath deeply and when I pulled the drug laced air into my lungs, I wondered what it was going to be like to have a machine control my breathing. Since arriving at the hospital on Friday I’d lost more and more control over my body, but now I would not even be able to control my own breathing! I would truly be totally dependent on the doctors and nurses, but those thoughts faded and everything went dark when I fell into unconsciousness.

When I came to, I felt the oddest sensation. My mouth was taped shut with a half inch plastic tube coming out between my teeth, and my throat felt like it was packed with something when I tried to swallow. I wasn’t in pain, it was just weird, but the next second went to a whole new level when the ventilator forced air into my lungs, then pulled it back out again. Wow! This was over the top!

I opened my eyes and found that I was in a different room. It looked like a hydro treatment area, but I was in a traction bed from what I could see. Of course a traction bed is not really a bed at all, being more like frame work ... a rack with movable straps if you will, that supports a person. I knew that they were mostly used for putting people in body casts, but had no clue why I was trussed up in one right now. Amanda saw me open my eyes and walked over.

“Mr Murphy, we’re alone for the moment. Are you in any pain? Blink your eyes once for no, two times for yes, OK?”

“Good! We have you completely wired up and so our next step will to wrap you and that’s why you’re in the traction bed. It makes it easier for us to fit your coverings. Are ready?”

She explained that the wet pack could be done with sheets or towels, but she preferred the Mummy effect and compression that the Ace type bandages gave. As well, they’d not come loose.

“I’m sure you’ll find the sensations to be quite interesting. You’ll be wrapped from head to toe, then be placed in a very snug, canvas body bag. After you’ve been inserted, the exterior straps will be cinched tight to ensure your complete immobility. All of the hoses and wires will exit the bag at the bottom and that way we can roll you over if it’s needed. Once you’ve been fully fitted into the over bag, we’ll connect your traction frame to the overhead lift and so you’ll be perfectly level while we move you over the hydro tank, then, you’ll be lowered into it. The tank is filled with a slightly saline solution of body temperature water, so you’ll be quite comfortable. During the entire treatment we’ll monitor your heart beat, oxygen intake and use, brain wave activity and all of your other body functions. It’ll take us an hour after your immersion to establish the base line data, then we’ll see how a healthy mind reacts when all sensory input is cut off.

“From that point, you’ll be left in the tank for at least 24 hours. That’s the limit that Kelly gave us, although I feel you could probable go longer. The duration of your future stays in the tank will be increased substantially for follow-on treatments and we’ll begin to see the full effect quite soon, I’m sure.”

‘Follow-on treatments??? How was that going to happen? Kelly and I had not even discussed a repeat!’ I thought to myself with concern beginning to surface.

“We have a few more surprises ready on for you as well.” she went on. “However, you’ll find out about those once you’re in the tank. Are you ready for your treatment”?

I really began to worry then about what I’d gotten myself into, but I was in away too far to back out and was not sure that at this point that Dr Smith would let me. I could not talk. I was strapped to a rack and I couldn’t move. On top of that, I had no hope being a fully registered patient, legally committed to a mental hospital!

“Great you’re going to love this”. Amanda smiled brightly, as if I had just given her a great big Christmas present.

‘I hope she’s right!’ I thought with a flicker of apprehension at the back of my mind.

“The medical team will be returning from their break any second, so, when they get back, just enjoy the ride and don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get a copy of the video of the whole procedure because I’m taping it for my paper on the use of the Modern Wet Pack treatment. You’re the star!” As she this, the medical team returned.

“OK team. We need to work fast to keep on schedule, so if there are no questions, let’s get hopping.”

The room quickly became abuzz with activity. I felt people at my feet placing padding between my toes, then they wrapped the stretchy bandage separately around each of my feet, then the wrapping continued up my legs. While they were being encased, another nurse placed my neck in a hard, cervical collar that immobilized my neck and head. The teams wrapping my legs reached my crotch and combined the bandages then continued up my torso, leaving all of my plumbing available.

I was shocked when the nurses working on my head placed a large rubber plug in each of my nostrils, blocking them completely, then applied a lot of tape over them so that now I was unable to breathe through my nose and had suddenly become totally dependant on the ventilator to supply all of my air. It felt very strange and scary.

The nurses removed a small section of tape from around the tube emerging from around my mouth, then quickly slid a large formed pad along it and pressed it inside, gagging me quite thoroughly! External hoses were connected to the emerging tube, then they speedily covered my entire face with more of the sticky tape so that none of the water in the hydro tank could get in. The wrapping had now moved all the way to my arm pits and they stopped, then began working on my hands. The first thing they did was to fit each one with a thin cotton glove, then started wrapping my fingers and thumbs. After the first wrap, they placed a small, foam ball in each of my palms, then continued, adding more and more layers. The stretchy bandages went all the way to my shoulders and when they’d finished with both arms, they kept going to my neck, then returned to my feet. My legs were moved together and small pads were placed between my ankle bones and knees, then they wrapped both of my legs very tightly together. Amanda was right, I was being fully mummified!

The nurses at my head carefully fitted ear plugs in each of my ears, but to my surprise they were ear phones. I saw her speak into a small microphone and heard her clearly. The wrapping had been worked up over my chest and the tech’s moved my arms to my sides and wrapped over them, then Dr Smith came to my side and looked me over.

“It all looks good.” she smiled and put her hand on my head, stoking it a few times. “OK, it’s time to tape his eyes closed.

One of the nurses appeared above my face with a pad in one hand and leant forward, moving it closer. I shut my eyes and with that she positioned the large, oval, self-adhesive pad over my eye and held it firmly against my face to make sure the adhesive stuck completely, then repeated the operation on my other eye. I was completely blind and no matter how I wrinkled my face, the sticky side stayed firmly fastened in place! A second or two later I felt them recommence the wrapping process when they encircled my head many times with the bandage, then for a few minutes, nothing happened until I felt them pulling the canvas body bag up my legs and over my body. That wasn’t the end because they began pulling all the straps into a crushing embrace.

Suddenly I was being moved and something was hooked to the bag, then I felt myself being lifted off the rack and they slowly lowered me into the hydro tank. It was very strange design, being equipped with a metal lid that would be clamped into an airtight seal, while at the bottom, provision had been made for all of the cables and hoses to exit the tank, keeping it air tight.

The water started to soak into my wrappings and it was like a nice warm bath: not too hot and not too cold. I knew I was slowly sinking deeper and that the water would soon go over my face and struggled with panic against the wrappings. Nothing happened. Soon I realized that no water was going into my nose or mouth and the ventilator was doing its job, giving me plenty of air and so tried to relax. It would be OK.

For a few seconds I felt the nurses pulling on my body, unhooking the bag’s D rings from the lift and reconnecting them by bungie cords to rings on the walls of the tank, keeping me suspended in the middle, unable to touch anything. After Amanda verified that I was OK and everything was set up correctly, she ordered the lid placed on the tank and sealed. I was no longer a person or a mental patient. I was now just an experiment.

The nurses watched my life support readings and brain waves on a set of computer monitors while I lay utterly motionless inside, blinded, deaf and helpless. I quickly grew bored and with no exterior stimuli and so drifted off to sleep, starting to dream, while on the outside, Amanda was very pleased with her experiment. She told the two duty nurses that she was going to see to her other business and would have them relieved in a few hours, cautioning them that if anything unusual developed she was to be paged immediately.

After she’d left, one of the nurses said that she didn’t like this kind of treatment, even for a mental patient. The other replied it didn’t really matter as it wasn’t like I knew what was happening to me and asked if her associate had read my chart, showing that I was pretty far gone. The first nurse said that she still did not like it.

Inside, I was moving back and forth between being in and out of consciousness. When I was partially asleep, I began to experience wild dreams and strange, out of body experiences even though I felt very deeply relaxed and had no anxiety. Had it been one hour or five hours since I’d been placed in the tank? I really didn’t care because for the moment I was in heaven, but the next thing I knew, the water got cold and I started to feel myself going numb. This bought me back to Earth in a hurry and I began shivering and shaking within my compressing wrappings. I frantically tried to breathe harder, but the ventilator would not let me! Suddenly, I wasn’t having fun anymore and I would have cried out for help if I could have spoken.

Then, just as I was going crazy from the cold, the water warmed and a voice in my ears called my name ... my real name, Brian! It was Kelly and she said she was with Amanda.

“We’re both enjoying ourselves, Brian, and we’re very happy with the data that your predicament is providing. I hope you’re enjoying yourself? Well, no matter, really! There’s nothing you can do or say to stop what’s coming next. We’ve got all the base line data we need, so now it’s time to begin the more intense parts of your therapy.”

“Brian, I’m afraid we lied a little. You see, quite a few of the electrodes attached to your body are not sensors at all, but are actually there to give you electro-shock. They’re concentrated around your breasts and nipples, and also around your penis and crotch as well as some in the enema butt plug. Now that I have the data about how your brain reacts to no stimulus at all, it’s time to see what happens when we introduce you to electro-shock therapy. What you’ll experience is a stronger version of the type normally used on sex offenders and paedophiles as an ‘aversion therapy’ type of treatment.

“Without doubt you will most certainly find this treatment quite unpleasant as is the intent with the types of patients I mentioned, but you will provide excellent data for my paper. For the moment, that’s about all you need to know. We’ll be back tomorrow when you’re taken out and this is the last time you’ll hear anything until then.”

‘Good god!’ I thought with my mind recoiling in horror while I writhed frantically against my very secure coverings. ‘I’m not a criminal like that! I didn’t expect to actually suffer though a full therapy session! Jesus! I hope the voltage isn’t too high!’

All I could do though was to lay in the tank waiting for the shocks to start, but nothing happened. Was she just trying to freak out me about something that was not going to be done, or was she waiting for me to relax, then would zap me? All I could do was wait for whatever they were going to do and so the next hours passed, or was it days while I hung there in increasing terror. On the monitors outside, the two women watched the monitors carefully while my brain waves peaked and flared and I became more and more agitated, struggling desperately to breath and somehow tell someone that I wanted out. Amanda’s therapy process was an automated one though and so they had no control of what was going to be done to me. Over the next hour I was subjected to heat, then cold many times, but no shocks, then when I thought I was exhausted, the unending pulsing and terrifying portion of the electro-shock therapy began.

The first sensations flared through my breasts in a cascading wave of needling pulses that seemed to penetrate the erected nipple flesh like ragged needles of ending length. In my mind, I screamed for it to stop, but the pulse pattern changed so that each of my breasts and pectoral muscles curdled and shook for long minutes before my nipples were assaulted again! On the next round, both things happened at the same time and I screamed dementedly into my gag! Another sensation crept up on me when I felt my penis stiffen around the catheter, being teased to full erectness by feathery shocks, but these gradually grew stronger and stronger! They tortured me endlessly along the full length of the erect organ and again I was driven to screaming fits, held totally motionless under the water and sealed in the tank. I felt that I was losing my mind from the inescapable over-stimulation, but the therapy program had only just begun!

After a while I was allowed some respite from the high levels of stimulation, but the low level shocks were always there. Then the second phase began. This time, my butt plug came into play and I felt my sphincter clamp down on the thick rigid thing in my behind, then convulse around it when strong shocks came through the contact ring! I tried to buck against my wrappings, straps and bondage, horrified by the sensations of the electricity passing through me, but it got even worse! My penis was again electrified by the awful pulses and I felt the current also passing from the butt plug along it as well! Again and again I tried to scream for it to be stopped, while on the external monitors, my brain waves leapt and cavorted like crazed ocean waves.

The succeeding stage of my ‘therapy’ came after another rest period and this one was by far the most awful of all. Everything that had been done to me in the second stage was repeated, then ... the breast and nipple electrodes were strongly activated! If I wasn’t already crazy, then this third stage soon tipped me over the edge into a landscape of unending torment at the merciless hands of the therapy program.

Finally, I was allowed to rest with nothing at all happening and being utterly deaf and blind for many hours I soon became delusional and had hallucinations. I lost all sense of time, up and down, and felt totally out of control. The only constants were the pitch black, the biting cold, no sound and the continual stinging of electric shock and so I guess I really did become crazy!

The next thing I knew was that I very faintly heard the latches of the lid being released, then the hoist slowly pulled me out of the tank. I was left to hang above it for a few minutes, allowing some of the water to drain out of the soaked wrappings and body bag then felt hands touching me, but the ventilator kept the air flowing in and out of my lungs with the mechanical precision. I was slowly lowered to rest on the table, then the medical staff loosened the straps of the body bag and at last unzipped it. I was gently removed from its snug encasement and they unwrapped me layer by layer while I lay there, unable to move a muscle. I was exhausted, but my time in the tank had been the most extraordinary and terrifying time of my life: beyond even sex itself.

At last I was completely unwrapped, then was quickly dried off and a disposable diaper was fitted, covered by my old friend the suicide watch gown. In seconds one of the nurses had secured me in the restraints so that I couldn’t move no matter how much I wanted too, but I was utterly exhausted. Amanda watched carefully while the two nurses removed my gag and the endo-tracheal and feeding tubes and for the first time in over 24 hours my lungs had to work to pull air into my chest. They next deflated the inflatable cuff on the tracheal tube, then pulled it out of my throat and stomach. It was a strange feeling, and very uncomfortable so I was glad to get it out. I started to take a deep breath, but began hacking and coughing so one of the nurses pushed my head down on the side, grabbed my jaw and opened my mouth, then pushed a suction tube in to remove all of the crap coming up from my lungs. I stopped coughing and finally began to breathe again on my own.

I had lived through the Wet pack, but was in no hurry to experience that kind of ‘therapy’ again! It was nothing more than legalized and medically sanctioned torture.

Amanda and Kelly informed the medical team that they could leave as she, Sally and Kelly would take care of me from this point. The group slowly filed out and Kelly came to my side, then looked around the room.

“Yes.” Amanda replied and Kelly grabbed my face in her hands and gave me the biggest, longest, deepest kiss ever. When we broke apart she asked if I was OK.

“No worse for wear. It was the wildest experience I have ever been through, and I loved it, for the most part.” I noticed that my voice was back to normal. “What time and day is it?”

“It’s Monday morning.” Kelly said. My last day in the institution, I thought sadly to myself.

“Well,” Amanda said, “we have a full day for you before you leave so Sally, please give Mr Murphy his shots for his voice trouble.”

She giggled a little and once again the shots in my mouth made my voice retarded. I mumbled that I was dead tired and wanted to sleep.

“You look like you’ve been run through the mill, for sure, but that’s how a lot of our mental patients with your condition look. So, now’s the best time for you to go out to the day room and hang out with the other patients, but of course such a violent patient as you can’t go without being appropriately dressed.”

“OK, it’s my last day and I’m still a patient in a mental institution, so it’s not like I can say no, now can I?”

“Certainly,” Amanda replied, “but remember you’re still on a liquid diet. Sally, please get him a breakfast drink.”

After the liquid breakfast I was once again dressed in a strait jacket and red scrub pants, then locked in a wheelchair and moments later we were on our way to the day room for me to get some sun and hang out with the other patients. I was tired, but was fascinated by all the activity. It was a large open space with one wall being a large window consisting of small panes of glass in the 1940's style. Beyond it I could see the rolling countryside and it was beautiful after having been confined in my cell and all of the other dim places of the hospital for the last days. I looked around and saw that it truly was a mad house, but the people were amazing to watch. Men and women, old and young, all in their own worlds in their minds. I sat in my wheel chair and watched the show pass until a new face walked up to me.

I just looked at her with tried eyes and said nothing, but she asked again if I was Mr Murphy and I said yes in my tired voice. She told me that she was a psychiatric therapist and Dr Smith wanted her to meet me. I just kept looking at her, not saying a word, and thought that I better do my best insane patient act. She told me her name was Kate and started out by asking me the usual question.

“I’m in a mental hospital, but I don’t really belong here. I’m not really crazy.”

Because of my drug induced voice and the files that Kelly had put together so well, there was no way that she gave it a second thought. As far as she was concerned, I was as mad as a hatter, but she kept talking and trying to tell me that she and the rest of the staff at the hospital were here to help me. However, I kept insisting that I was not crazy and being held against my will until she finally said I needed to calm down or I’d need to be sedated.

“OK, I’ll be good, but don’t give me any more shots.” I stopped talking and tied to look as terrified as I could.
Kate looked at me and I could see that she felt sorry for me, the poor mentally ill man, then when she walked away, she spoke to Sally and told her that she thought if she could have more time with me, she could help me at least a little.

Sometime later I dozed off then Sally arrived and told me it was time for lunch and after it I could take a nap. We passed the nurse’s stations and I was taken back to my room, I-13. It felt good to be home I chucked to myself. Soon I was strapped onto my bed, held down this time by a six point restraint system and Sally fed me my lunch then I quickly fell into a sound sleep.

I woke when the over head light was turned on and looked around the room to see that Kelly and Sally were standing next to my bed, smiling down at me. I asked what time it was and Kelly said about 4:30pm.

“We have some time yet,” Kelly said, “and Dr Smith would like to talk to you.”
I was trussed up as usual in my red scrubs and placed in a wheelchair, then we took off down the hall and pulled into a room called Group Therapy. Inside, Dr Smith and the rest of the girls of our ‘team’ were sitting in a circle of chairs and I was rolled into an open space to become part of it. Amanda started out by asking how I’d liked my stay at the mental institution.

“I’m having a great time!” I smiled. “I’m just sorry it’s already over so soon.”

“Well that’s great! We want to know if you’d like to stay with us a little longer?”

“OK,” said Kelly, “but you’ve been talking about a change of careers for sometime now because of all the stress at your work.”

“Yeah, but becoming a full time, mental patient isn’t one of my preferred career paths!”

“Brian,” Dr Smith said, “let me make you a proposal, OK? I’d very much like to continue my research and you’ve turned out to be the perfect subject. When we first started talking about bringing someone into the hospital, it was more of a gag and I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to test my new Wet Pack Treatment. However, all of the tests showed that you’re absolutely the type of subject I need for the experiment. I have a large grant to do this study and it has money built-in for paying test subjects and so with that being the case, I can pay you about half of what you make right now. On the up side, you won’t have to pay income tax, rent or for food and to top that off, you get to be in here just as you’ve wanted, and experience the whole gamut of experience in a mental institution. We can move all of your stuff out of your apartment and into storage and that alone will save you lots of money. Also, you will have a great medical plan!”

“Of course.” Amanda said. “Brian, in the final analysis, it’s up to you but we’d really like it if you decide to stay.”

They all stood and walked out, leaving Kelly and me alone. I asked her if she wanted me to stay at the hospital for a year?

“Brian, it’s your decision, but I know that we can have lots of fun. We’ll have our room in The Pit for conjugal visits and after the year, you can go out and find a better job than you have now.”

I thought again to myself that I could write a book about my year in the mental institution.

“OK! I’ll do it.” I agreed, forgetting for the moment about the promised repeat treatments in the Wet Pack and the mind draining ‘therapy’ that I’d been subjected to.

“I knew you’d agree!” Kelly smiled while I sat still restrained and locked onto my chair, then she planted a big long kiss on my lips.

She walked to the door and told Amanda and the girls that I was the newest, long-term patient then Dr Smith told the others to head back to their normal duties and that she and Kelly would work out the details for my extended stay. Kelly asked me when I had to be back at work and I replied that I’d planned to take the rest of the week off to relax after my week-end stay.

“So, no one will miss you for a week. OK, that gives us a little time to work things out. First thing tomorrow, is to call your boss. Your voice will be back to normal by then and you can tell him that you’ve found a job out of state and that you’re giving one week notice. Tell him to send your last paycheck to your old address and it will be forwarded. Also, your girl friend will pick up your personal things and hand in any company equipment from your home. You’ll have to tell him that you know it’s fast, but they wanted you to start the new job ASAP and you’re committed to it, so to speak.”

Kelly would take care of all the details of moving, shutting off all my utilities and paying the final bills, but she’d also need me to sign a Power of Attorney so that she could get my bank accounts and 401k set up for my stay at the hospital. As well, she said, they’d sell my car. I’d certainly not be driving for the foreseeable future! The girls certainly had my life all planned out, but at that point, I wasn’t aware of just how detailed those plans were! Dr Smith would immediately contact the lawyer who executed all of the court commitments for the State hospital and she, very luckily, was one her best friends.

“Are you going to tell her that she’ll be getting a sane man committed to a mental institution?”

“Oh yeah. No problem. She’s going to love this and will think it’s going to be a lot of fun because she’s like us and has a kinky sense of humour.”

I was dead tired and so was wheeled to my room then strapped in for the night. Kelly and Amanda said they had millions of details to work out and were very excited about the plans they had for me and my extended stay. I lay there for a while, struggling absent mindedly against my restraints, thinking. So much for being in here for just a week-end! I felt good though, knowing I was safe and secure in my own little world, just like all the other mental patients.

Kelly and Amanda started planning how to get all of the loose ends of my life outside the hospital cleaned up and Amanda called her friend Robin (the lawyer) and told her what she needed and it needed to be done very soon. It was obvious that the attorney on the other end of the line wasn’t sure if the phone call was a joke or not.

“So, let me get this straight. You want me to get a healthy, normal man committed into your hospital, and he wants to do this? Are you sure that he isn’t really crazy?” Robin asked.

“No, he’s definitely not crazy, but he is a little kinky like the rest of us. Besides, he’s going to help me by being the main research subject for my work.” Amanda said.

“OK, honey. I don’t know how you always talk me into these things, but I’ll do it. Even so, I need to see him when he’s not on any drugs, just for my peace of mind, and ensure that he really wants to do this. How long do you plan on keeping him in the institution?”

“Wow!” After a brief pause she continued. “I’ll need to see the file you’ve created for him. When do you want to start his stay?”

“He’s been in here all of the past week-end already and was brought in on a 5150 involuntary commitment, but it runs out tomorrow. So, we need you to get the long term commitment organized quickly. In addition, it should specify that he is to be kept in the Locked Isolation Ward away from the general population of patients as much as possible for his and their safety.”

“OK. I’m going to need you to stage some sort of violent action by him so I can show the judge that he’s a severely agitated and violent patient. That’ll ensure that he’s always kept in Isolation and most likely, always in physical restraints.”

“Excellent! That’s exactly what we and he want and he won’t mind.” Amanda replied, smiling to herself, knowing that her patient would actually prefer it and even if I didn’t after a while, they’d have the full legal right to do it.

“OK. I’ll get us into court tomorrow afternoon to see the judge. Before I do though, I’ll come by the hospital at 10:00am to meet Mr Murphy. He’ll have to sign some release forms for your research studies as well.” Robin said.

“That’s good! We also need you to set up a Power of Attorney for Kelly to get Brian’s personal affairs in order during his stay with us.” Dr Smith said.

Amanda and Kelly continued making their plans and later that night when I was fast asleep in my room, strapped down tight, the girls finished them all.

The lights in my room came on and I jumped, but my restraints kept me from moving much.

I saw smiles all around from Kelly, Amanda, Sally and Patty, then tried to say hello, but my voice was still drugged out and I thought it must be really early.

“We have a lot of things to do this morning, so let’s get going shall we?” Kelly said.

First, I was fed a quick breakfast, then dressed, restrained again and pushed down the hall to the shower room in the wheelchair. Inside, I was stripped and my arms were spread across the stall by having my wrist cuffs hooked to rings on the wall, then the rest of the girls left and Kelly washed me down, taking great delight in my helpless state. After, but still restrained, Kelly took great care to make sure all my parts were completely dry and I was in heaven. I was returned to my cell and stripped out of my red scrubs then dressed in a yellow jump suit and I asked if I was going somewhere.

“OK, let’s call your boss. I’ve bought your cell phone in from my place, so he’ll not see that you’re calling from the State mental hospital on his caller ID.”

I called my boss and told him I was quitting and this was my one week notice and too, that I’d not be returning to work. He was shocked, but I told him that I had a better offer out of state, at a job that I was already committed to. Kelly smiled when I said this and then I told him that my girl friend would pick my things up from the office and return all of my company stuff. He agreed and that was another string to my normal life that had been neatly severed.

“Next,” said Amanda, “we need to get you set up for your violent act so that the judge will require that we keep you here in the Locked Ward.”

“I want you to bite Nurse Sally on the arm,” Dr Smith said, “but not hard enough to break the skin, OK?”

“Well, not really. Kelly has taken a picture of Sally’s arm and photo-shopped marks from teeth onto it along with some fake blood trails. We’ll just turn in an alarm on you doing it. Simple!” Amanda said with a smile.

Soon I’d been placed in bed, but not completely strapped down for they’d left one arm free. Patty drew some blood from me and Sally then Dr Smith said we had to make it look real, so the blood drawn from me was smeared in and around my mouth and Sally’s blood was dribbled on her arm where the bite was supposed to be then Kelly spoke again.

Sally screamed loudly and hit the alarm on the wall, then Patty and Sally ran in and Patty began acting as if she was treating Sally’s bite. Kelly and Amanda pretended as though they were fighting with me, trying to get my arm down, and managed to strap it in place just as two security officers ran into the cell. Kelly called dispatch and cleared the alarm then Patty took Sally off to the first aid station to clean the bite and bandage Sally’s arm. Kelly told the other officers that she’d file the incident report then Dr Smith cleaned me up after some pictures were taken for evidence of the attack. Kelly returned with a funny looking canvas helmet.

“Mr Murphy, now that you’re biting people, you’re going to have to wear this for a while.”

She slipped the thickly padded canvas helmet onto my head and pulled all of the adjustment straps snug so that only holes for my mouth and nose and eyes were visible. On the sides, thick pads surrounded and covered my ears, but then she produced a matching part that looked like a wide gag with a soft breathing tube running through it.

“You’ll wear this until the attorney comes to talk to you. She has to do it while you are not drugged, and this way, we can keep you talking normally until she’s finished. Now, open wide! I really like gagging you. Open up!” she said with a happy grin.

It was difficult to open my mouth, thanks to the wide and tight strap cupping under my jaw, but soon Kelly squeezed it down flat enough to slide between my teeth and fully inside my mouth. The gag had grooves for my teeth around the top and bottom and once it was inside my mouth, it expanded alarmingly! With the tube now passing through my mouth, the two side straps were immediately hooked to the helmet and tightened so that I could not say a word! Only my eyes were visible now, but Kelly wasn’t done yet. She threaded another strap through a flat metal loop on the top of the helmet then through o a waiting bracket on the headboard of the bed and tightened it harshly so that I could not move, lift my head, or talk! The last thing she did while I yelled and thrashed against my restraints was to take an eye dropper and put a stinging solution in each of my wildly staring eyes, making them look frantic and blood shot! She tightened all of the helmet’s straps then fitted small locks to them all. Wow! I loved it!

Two or three officers came by to make sure I was under control then Sally walked back in with her arm wrapped in bandages. She smiled happily when she saw the newest restraints.

They left the room and I remained very securely bound; silenced and struggling fitfully to try and ease my situation, but being secured in hospital-issued restraints and these having been applied by professionals who used them every day, there wasn’t a hope of easing my bondage. About 10:20am the door to my cell opened and a woman in her early thirties walked in with Kelly. The woman was dressed in a business skirt suit with her hair pulled up into a French twist style and she certainly looked like a lawyer ... a smart one, and I knew instinctively that there would be no BS accepted by her. After she’d entered, Kelly closed the door and locked it, then the woman came over and looked at me.

“You required that he not to be on any drugs when you talk to him and so to make Brian sound retarded we’ve been injecting his mouth and tongue with a type of long-lasting Novocain. Since we did want him to slip up and talk to anyone, we gagged him until you could speak with him.”

It came out surprisingly fast, but the rest of the helmet remained locked tight. I licked my lips then spoke.

“Hi. My name is Brian and I would shake your hand, but as you can see I am a little tied up at the moment.”

They both giggled a little and Robin examined the gag then spoke again, looking me right in the eye.

“It sounds like fun.” I chimed in. “I’ve always wanted to see the inside of a mental institution and as well, I like the excitement and danger now that I’m here. I’d also like to help Dr Smith with her research and when I get out, I may write a book about my time in here.”

“Well, OK. I just want to make sure of that before I petition the court to place you in Permanent Conservatorship. The Order of Commitment will state that you’re to imprisoned here for an indefinite period, primarily for disability and imminently dangerous behaviour. The Order of Commitment is for real, you know? You will stay in here for a long time, Brian. Once the documents are duly completed, the authorities will have permission to keep you isolated in a Locked Ward, and to restrain you as they may feel necessary. As well, you’ll have been legally signed over to them as a test subject for any treatment or therapy regimes they feel will help to cure your mental condition. Understood?”

“Uh, you said ‘indefinite’. I thought I’d consented to only a year?” I began to get really worried now.

“You said you really want to stay here for a while and that has now been arranged. It’s a completely legal commitment. I’ve read your file and from the way you’ve been diagnosed, it is going to happen. As stated in the recommendations and with my own strong urging, you will spend nearly all of your time continuously restrained in an isolation cell like this, or one that is even more stringent.”

“That’s the option we all want for you, Brian.” she said with a grim smile, knowing full well that this was going to be a permanent incarceration, no matter what I thought.

“Yes, that’s what we want.” Kelly said, also aware that I’d never get out. “He has to be kept out of the general population of the hospital so we can look after him properly and control his contact with the staff.”

“That’s what Amanda told me,” said Robin, “but once that Order of Commitment is signed by the judge, and he’s more than willing I can tell you, it becomes a completely legal document and can be used as such. However, that being said, this is the weirdest thing I have ever been a party to, but if you two are in for the ride, who am I to stop the parade? The OC will be completed today and I have an appointment at 1:00pm with the judge. First though, you’ll need to free his writing hand so he can sign the Power of Attorney, then there are some others to get things set up so that Kelly can take care of his affairs during his stay. Are you still sure you want to go through with this, Brian? You may end up spending the rest of your life in here you know?”

“Well, OK.” I said quite worried while my hand and arm were freed of their cuffs and mitt. “But I don’t think I’ll get a chance like this again and so ... I’m in.”

I quickly signed the papers, and my life, over to Kelly, then, while Sally rebound my hand and arm Robin and Kelly discussed my court appearance and how I should be presented. I just lay and listened while my lover and lawyer planned how to show me to the judge so, that he would see for himself that I was indeed a severely mentally ill person ... one worthy of long-term incarceration.

This felt far more real and permanent than just passing as a patient for the week-end! It was getting serous! Real lawyers, real courts and a real judge. I asked myself what was I doing? A mental battle was going on in my head because of the fear of what was going to be done to me over the next year and perhaps it wouldn’t stop there! The knowledge that the wheels had now all been set in motion and could not be stopped was in itself scary.

‘Could they be stopped now? No.’ I told myself, ‘I’ve quit my job and signed papers giving Power of Attorney to Kelly. I was due to make my final court appearance in a few hours and there was no stopping it.’ I had let it go too far and now had to go through with it ... like it or not. It was too late and already the situation was far out of my control. I wanted to talk to Kelly about my new anxiety, but just then she spoke to Robin.

“I’m afraid someone will come to check on him because of the nurse biting so if you have any more questions, let’s get them out of the way now, then I’m going to put his gag back in.”

“No. I’m satisfied that what you’ve arranged is legitimate. Go ahead and gag him.” Robin said with a happy smile and moved to the other side of the bed to watch me being silenced.

Kelly picked up the awful device and looked down at me, all strapped down vulnerable. Uncalled for and sudden tears leaked from the corners of my eyes and she saw I was disturbed.

“Have you changed your mind? If you have, it’s OK and we can get you out of here right now.”

At that moment I knew Kelly would not do anything to hurt me and that sustained me. I knew I wanted to go through with my institutional committal, then gasped deeply for a moment and was OK again. I told Kelly and Robin I was just nervous of going out in public to the court, but I was fine.

“OK! Open up!” Kelly said and kissed me on the lips. It would be the last one for a long time to come. She picked up the gag then pushed the pad deeply inside. My teeth sank into their grooves and the pad expanded horribly while she strapped it tight.

I was glad now that I didn’t have chance to change my mind and laughed to myself at my idiocy. I barely heard Robin say that she needed to talk to Dr Smith and make sure we all were on the same page then she walked over to me and spoke to Kelly just before she tightened the ear pads.

“I’m sorry. I forgot to tell him how I would like him to behave in court today.”

Kelly loosened the pads over my ears a little and Robin instructed me about what she wanted me to do and how to conduct myself. She’d had many patients committed and so knew how they acted, then she asked if I had any questions. I shook my head and Kelly tightened the strap between the top of my helmet and the bed’s head board, immobilizing me fully once more.

They both laughed and Kelly tightened the ear covers, rendering me nearly deaf and completely immobilized, other than for my fingers, toes and eyes. She re-checked all of my restraints then escorted Robin to the door and handed her off to a nurse to be guided out of the institution, returning to my bed side a moment later.

“OK. I’ll be back when it’s time to leave for your hearing. Robin will see you in court.”

Her voice was very faint and muffled, but she wasn’t quite finished with my restraints. I lay helplessly on the bed, then she re-appeared above me and slipped a helmet-matching blinder panel over my staring eyes and buckled it tight so that I was enclosed once more in total blackness and almost total silence. My thoughts returned to the tale of Alice in Wonderland and I realized that just like Alice, I had taken the blue pill, and was following the white rabbit deeper and deeper into the hole.

- Chapter 10 -
Court Ordered Permanent Conservatorship and Confinement
(Or welcome to the Hotel California)

It seemed like a long time after Robin left when the door opened and Kelly, Cathy and Dr Smith returned with a wheel chair like the one they had used to bring me to my room the first night. I think they’d called it a ‘Special Needs’ chair, but all I knew was that it had a lot of straps and my head was going to be secured to the head rest again. I remained blind folded and gagged while they fixed me to the chair then one of them, Kelly, I think, spoke loudly.

“OK, Mr Murphy. We need to work fast to make sure you get to your appointment with the court on time. First, I have to give you more shots in the mouth, then Kelly and Cathy will get you set up in restraints and chains. I have some other shots and medications to give you as well.” Amanda said with a very evil grin that I couldn’t see.

They quickly removed my bed restraints and gag, then Dr Smith gave me the shots in the mouth while Kelly and Cathy fitted me with the heavy transport restraints. They were placed with great care then my hands were forced into the snug security mitts and they too were locked.

“I like putting Mr Murphy in restraints!” Cathy laughed. “He makes it very easy and never fights.”

Of course everyone in the room knew I loved to be restrained and at this point Kelly asked about the canvas helmet and gag and if I was to be transported like that. Amanda replied that they needed to remove them and replace everything with the standard, mesh transport hood because the judge hated to see patients wearing gags.

“But before you do, I need to put these contact lenses in Mr Murphy’s eyes.”

“You will for your day in court!” Amanda smiled, “These are theatrical lenses and will make your eyes look washed out and blood shot, instead of your bright, healthy looking ones.”

Having much practice, she slipped the contacts in with no trouble and Kelly held up her compact mirror so that I could see myself. I was amazed at how just a little thing like contacts changed my looks so much! Now I looked sickly and not a little depraved and fierce. Wow! Dr Smith put some more eye drops in my eyes and they stung abominably.

Kelly fitted the mesh-fronted thing over my head and adjusted it, then Amanda pulled out a hypo.

“Mr Murphy what I’m going to give you now is Tri-fluoroperazine. It’s a drug that will induce a mild paralysis and although it will not keep you from moving, it will make it hard to do so. People with Type II Paranoid Schizophrenia, which, by the way, is what you have been diagnosed as having, or should I say that’s what your chart says, get this stuff all the time.” Amanda said with a laugh and went on. “Patients with Type II have predominantly negative symptoms, such as withdrawal from others and a slowing of mental and physical reactions called psycho-motor retardation. So, this drug will give you convincing symptoms and side effects such as trembling, uncontrollable shaking, or movement of the hands or other parts of the body. These occur in the neurological disorder such as Parkinson’s and schizophrenia, but your mind will stay very sharp.”

“I’m glad to hear that! I don’t want to sleep through my Commitment.” I said with a laugh.

My new semi-permanent voice was back, so I continued to sound like a retarded person and would continue to do so for the next year. Dr Smith gave me the shot to commence the mild paralysis and I asked how long would it take before I felt it.

“It’s a slow acting drug,” Amanda said, “so the effects may not show up for ten to twenty minutes”

“About 48 hours. This way you can learn more about the symptoms of your disease and how you should act over the coming year.” she said with a playful smile.

Kelly and Cathy moved me to the waiting wheel chair, then strapped me in nice and tight. We left my cell and proceeded down the halls towards the Patient entrance so I could be processed for a day pass to go to court. After the paperwork was filled out, I was wheeled into the receiving bay and placed in the same type of van I’d arrived in. Cathy and Kelly made short work of transferring me from the wheelchair to the van and once again I was strapped into another chair and isolated in a cage in the back. I had to laugh to myself and thought that the next time I rode in the van, it would be to get out of the institution; not to make sure I could stay there.

Amanda told Cathy and Kelly she would meet them in the court room and left, then Kelly and Cathy jumped into the van and after the big door opened, began the 10 mile trip into town and the court house. We drove through a beautiful, very peaceful countryside and it was that way because no one wanted to build or move near a mental institution for the criminally insane. As we rolled down the road one of the girls asked if I was feeling OK.

“Well, you really look sick with those contacts you’re wearing. It’s wild how they change your looks, and you really do look like a patient.”

“Oh dear, it was a compliment!” Kelly said in her sexy voice and we all laughed.

A half hour later we pulled into Ashland. It’s a pretty little place that had been a big cattle town from the 1880's until the 1930's, but now it was much more modest. In it’s hey day, it had a wonderful downtown section with big Victorian homes, banks, businesses and the courthouse that was in the centre of town. It was surrounded by a large park and looked like one of the kind that you’d see in the movies. We drove to the area where prisoners were handled and Cathy parked the van then turned and looked at me with an evil smile.

They both laughed and Kelly sent Cathy to find a wheelchair. In the meantime she started removing my seat restraints and asked how I was doing.

“That’s the drugs talking.” she said with a smile, then Cathy returned and told us that the only wheelchair as being used right now.

They assisted me out of the van and I started feeling odd. Not bad, just odd. After they had me out, Kelly took one arm and Cathy the other then we began to walk and that’s when the paralysis started. I could move, but it was hard to make my legs work, or anything else for that matter.

“It’s OK, Mr Murphy. We won’t let you fall. Just keep trying to walk. We’re almost there.”

Slowly, and I’m sure it looked painful (but was not), we moved into the building and once inside Kelly and Cathy had moved me to a bench against the wall I sat me down while I started trembling and my hands shook. Kelly went back into cop mode and acted unconcerned about how I was doing while Cathy went to the desk to check us in with the court administration. The sergeant at the desk said that we were about 15 minutes early and asked if they wanted me placed in a holding cell until it was time. Cathy said yes if they could keep me isolated from the other inmates.

“The patient is crazy, but we don’t want him hurt or raped while waiting to be committed.”

The Sergeant smiled and told Cathy to bring me along. I’d be locked up by myself in a small holding cell; this about four by four feet with the door made of stout bars. I was led inside to the bench and slowly sat down while Kelly and Cathy stood and watched. The officer closed the cell door and Kelly spoke.

They all turned and walked away, but I could hear the Sergeant asking the girls if they wanted a coffee. I stared out through the bars of my Holding Cell and thought about my situation. I’d never been in a jail cell before and then I laughed to myself. Before the last week-end, I’d not been in a lot of places! My hands began to start and stop trembling without warning.

Sometime not too much later, the Sergeant, Kelly and Cathy returned to my cell as it was obviously time. The door was opened and Kelly and Cathy grabbed me by the arms to bring me to my feet then we slowly made our way down the hall. When I passed the Sergeant, I turned and spoke to him.

“I’m not really crazy and I don’t belong here! They’re trying to lock me up for fun!”

We walked slowly into the court room through the side door used to bring in the defendants and I looked around the room. It looked like a set from of a Perry Mason TV show, then, when I looked around, to my surprise, there where people sitting in the gallery. I guessed that they were waiting for family or friends to see the judge and I hoped there was no one I knew in the crowd, but on the other hand, in my present state I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be recognized.

There was no jury for me, because according to Robin, all that was needed to formally commit me was for the Judge to sign off on the paperwork Robin presented. I was led to my seat at the defence table and sitting next to me was Dr Smith. Next to her was Robin, then Kelly and Cathy walked to the side wall and stood watching. Dr Smith turned towards me and asked how I was doing.

“That’s OK. We’ll be done with this very quickly and have you back in your bed in no time.” she said with mock sympathy then turned away from me and spoke to Amanda.

A guard called the court to order when the judge walked in and sat down. He was an older man with gray hair and looked very much the part, then he turned to us and spoke.

“Your Honour, we have a most unfortunate person before you today. Mr Murphy has been in and out of mental institutions for most of his life. He is paranoid schizophrenic and developmentally disabled, with an IQ of about 50. On a good day he can follow simple instructions, but on a bad day he can go from detached to very violent. It’s anyone’s guess. In the last few months, according to his group home, he has become severely agitated and violent for no apparent reason. Dr Smith states in her report that this is due to his deteriorating condition and unfortunately it will only get worse. On Friday last week he busted up his group home then just today attacked and bit a nurse pretty badly on the arm. Dr Smith feels that Mr Murphy should be placed in a civil commitment, under code WIC 5358 for Permanent Conservatorship on the basis of grave disability. We feel that with cognitive-behavioural therapy in combination with pharmacological therapy, we can give Mr Murphy his best chance for a safe and peaceful existence for the remainder of his life.”

When Robin said the words ‘for the remainder of his life’ I felt a cold shiver run down my spine and told my self that it was just a formality and the only way the girls could get me committed for a long term. However, it still was unnerving to hear your self being committed to a life long sentence in a mental institution. While I sat in my chair at the defence table, I continued to tremble and shake uncontrollably and I wasn’t sure if it was the drugs, the fear or the excitement of the proceedings that caused this. At one point I shook so much that my chains started rattling and Dr Smith held my arm then spoke in a very comforting voice.

“It’s OK, Mr Murphy. We’ll be getting you back to your new home very soon and you can rest.”

“I don’t belong here! I’m not crazy! They’re trying to kill me!” I yelled in a slurred voice.

Dr Smith talked to me again saying that it was OK and I would not be hurt, then Amanda spoke.

“You can see that Mr Murphy is very delusional, your Honour.” Robin said and the Judge looked at me, then down at the papers on his desk.

“Everything seems to be in order, but I have a question about this request for undisclosed treatments for the patient. It looks like you’re asking for carte blanche to do any medical treatment you desire.”

Dr Smith stood and said that she felt that with my condition, multiple treatments and therapies would be in order and she wanted the freedom to quickly change from one to another, if and when needed. The Judge studied my file and finally spoke again.

“Very well, Dr Smith. I am aware that you are a very caring doctor and at the top in your field. Mr Murphy looks like he can use all the help you can give him and so I will sign off on your request for the use of unrestricted therapies modes. Even so, the full time employment of physical restraints is somewhat troubling. However, given the evidence before me and the diagnosis I shall also grant that they may be employed at your discretion.

“All of the preceding being said, before I incarcerate a person for what in reality is a life sentence, I wish to see his face. Dr Smith, please remove that transport hood.”

“You’re all trying to kill me and I’m not crazy!” I yelled and foamed at the mouth a little.

“Now, now. It’s OK.” she soothed. “Quiet now.” I stopped talking and hung my head, looking disoriented.

“Well it’s probably better that he’s not aware of what’s happening to him.” The judge said, then looked down at the Order Of Committal for a moment before raising his gaze again. “It is hereby the order of this court that Mr Randal Murphy be committed to the Ashland State Mental Institution under civil commitment code WIC 5358 for Permanent Conservatorship and Confinement on the basis of grave disability.”

He banged the gavel, making it official and I shuddered at the sound, then he continued speaking.

“I hope with the good Doctor’s and the hospital staff’s help, you find some much needed peace, Mr Murphy. Case closed.” He banged his gavel again.

Robin stood and walked over to the Judge and thanked him, then went to the clerk and picked up all of the paper work, including the newly finalized court order. She returned to our table and handed Amanda the paper work.

“Dr Smith, you are now the court appointed Conservator of Mr Murphy. As his attorney, I will be dropping in to see him about once a month to check on his well being.”

Amanda thanked Robin for all of her help and said they should go for drinks soon, then Robin looked at her watch and said she had another appointment. Before leaving, she walked over to me and placed her hand on my shoulder.

Amanda called Kelly and Cathy over and told them my hood had to be placed back on my head, then I was to be taken back to the institution and bedded down for the rest of the day and night. Dr Smith looked at me.
“Yes, it certainly appears that Mr Murphy needs his rest.”

With that I was lifted to my feet then Kelly and Cathy grabbed one of my arms and we started the walk back to the van, arriving there soon after. Within five minutes I was back inside and strapped into the seat, locked in the cage and ready for transport back to the hospital. I was mentally reeling from both the excitement and the terror of my semi-permanent commitment to a mental institution and kept thinking that this was incredible. I’d been taken to a real court then legally committed by a real judge! I was excited and more than a little fearful of what the next year would hold for me and struggled wildly against my restraints, knowing that now, there was no escape.

The girls jumped into the van and Cathy drove with Kelly riding in the passenger seat. When we pulled out of the courthouse parking lot Kelly turned and spoke into the microphone and asked how I was holding up. I said I was OK, but still a little nervous.

“Don’t worry, Honey. You’ve just passed the hardest part and now no one will question that you’re a real mental patient. You’re in our care, so everything is OK.”

“I just was thinking about what the judge said about me being in ‘Permanent Conservatorship’.” I said, “What exactly does that mean?”

“The purpose of Conservatorship is to provide supervision, placement and security for you. As the Judge agreed, the institution will employ individualized treatment related specifically to your state. You’re a patient now, like it or not. Now as to your question ... because of your mental state, it is a permanent commitment. You’ve been fully and legally placed in the State Mental Institution for the Criminally Insane. According to all of the court accepted data, it’s very unlikely that your mental condition is going to improve.” Kelly said with a brilliant smile.

“Oh shit!’ I gasped, at last realizing the full consequences of what I’d done to myself. “I guess I should have asked about this a lot more thoroughly. How do plan on getting me out at the end of the year?”

“Oh Mr Murphy!” Kelly replied with another very big smile and said in a sweet voice, “Don’t worry your little head about that. We’ll take care of your release when the time comes.”

“But when!?” I yelled as best I could. “I really need to know that I’ll be released, like we agreed!”

“Brian, its OK.” Kelly said sincerely. “We hope to get you out next year, but have not planned it all out yet. Trust me, we will.”

“You know?” Cathy said, “Maybe Mr Murphy really is paranoid, after all!”

I started trembling and shaking again and Kelly asked if I was OK and I told them that I felt good, but just looked like Hell and they both laughed.

We drove through the country, passing old farms and green fields on our way back to the hospital and all the while Kelly told me what fun the next year or two was going to hold for me. I started relaxing and getting into the correct mind set. I was a mental patient and nothing was in my control. I was happy again.

When we passed through the hospital’s gates, I saw the massive structure on the hill top, dark and foreboding, my new home for the next year, or so I thought. We pulled around to the Patient’s Entrance and I was quickly removed from the van then placed in a wheelchair. Kelly and Cathy pushed me back to my Isolation Cell in the Locked Ward where they immediately stripped me naked, keeping me restrained at all times, then dressed me in my suicide watch gown. The catheter was re-inserted and this time I was also fitted with the specialized enema butt plug. The next device they fitted though was soon to become a horror. A long, thick tube was slipped over my penis and it had hoses and wires leading to it! The catheter tube was connected to its end cap, then the assembly was fastened in place with a waist and crotch strap that also held the butt plug securely anchored. They finished off by leading the hoses and wires to a complicated looking piece of medical technology that had been wheeled into the room and bolted to the opposite wall. As soon as the straps had been locked around my body, they put me on the bed and fastened me down in the six point restraints that I had come to know so well. Patty walked in and asked how I was doing.

“Well other than he was found to be criminally insane and was committed to our mental institution for the rest of his life, he’s doing good.” Kelly smiled.

They all laughed, then Patty said since I had bitten Sally this morning, for the next few weeks I was going to wear the canvas helmet complete with sound deadeners, blind fold and gag. Kelly slid the canvas helmet over my head and adjusted it to crushing tightness. I whimpered and gasped, then begged her not to fit me with the horrid gag, but she only smiled and connected the strap from the top of the helmet to the head of the bed and pulled it tight.

“OK Mr Murphy.” Kelly said in sweet voice. “I’ll be taking the next three weeks off to take care of your affairs and have a holiday. All of your stuff will be moved out of your apartment and put into storage or donated to charity. You car will be sold and I’ll email your friends to get all the loose ends tied up for your nice long stay with us.”

“Well you know it’s not like I’m going to be able to use any of that stuff anytime soon, is it?”

They all laughed then she went on to say that Dr Smith would also be taking a few days off to help her and that I would be living like a regular patient until she got back. In the meantime Patty and Sally would be in charge and would be administering some of the new therapies that Amanda had specified should be started immediately. For the next three weeks I would spend most of the time strapped down on the bed and have to accept what came in the way of therapy.

“Yes. What kinds of therapies will be used on me? Kelly, you’re really scaring me!”

“You’ve already experienced a few of them in the Wet Pack Treatment, Brian ... the electro-shock aversion therapy module. Now though, they’ll be done to you every day and frequently much of the nights as well to help control your carnal urges.” Kelly smiled her wickedest gin.

“But I’m not a sexual sadist!” I wailed, struggling frantically against the thick leather strap. She leaned over and looked into my eyes.

“Yes you are and I have the response data from when you were tested to prove it.”

“Oh yes we can,” she said with grim satisfaction. “And we have the court order permitting it.”

“Nnnooo!” I howled in real fear now, jerking frantically against the straps that held me down.

“Oh, yes!” Kelly smiled, then leaned down and kissed me. “Open wide, Brian! I’m going to really enjoy torturing you.”

In the midst of my next attempted scream, she rammed the mouth filling pad between my teeth and I instinctively bit down, then she quickly strapped it to the helmet and locked it tight. She looked at me again and picked up the blinder.

I screamed and gasped behind the gag, trying to beg her not to leave me, but the panel descended over my eyes and was quickly tightened and locked. Silence enveloped me when she fitted and locked on the ear pads and I gave up and just lay cocooned in silence and blackness. Kelly turned towards Patty and Cathy.

“Take good care of Mr Murphy for me girls. You can start his therapy immediately. I’ll see you in about three weeks.”

Kelly turned and left the cell and the other two went over to the machine. I didn’t hear the switches being turned on, but suddenly felt the tube fastened over my penis begin to suck me rhythmically! I’d not had any sex since the session in the cell deep below and my body responded instantly, hardening and lengthening into the voracious tube! The butt plug became active and a cascading series of shocks pulsed from it, out through my prostate and along the full length of the tube, making me throb and twitch painfully! Then they really did become painful! The suckling never stopped and in minutes I orgasmed in a frantic, bucking rush while thrashing against my restraint network but that just that added in more endorphins to the heady rush and I screamed frantically against the gag. The suckling and shocks died back, but continued, then to my horror I felt some thing stuck onto each of my nipples and a cold rim settled around each of my breasts! A wide strap was slipped under my back and others were brought down over my shoulders, then the rims were pulled down tight onto my chest and the shoulder straps were snared tight also.

Patty and Cathy had fitted me with a new piece of therapy equipment and quickly connected it to the machine against the wall. I was still recovering from my previous orgasm when the next part of the therapy began, but this time a strong vacuum pulled harshly on my breasts for a long period, inflating them with sensitizing blood. Far too soon I felt the tube begin to suck at me down below and to my horror, I stiffened into it again with instinctual, automatic reaction. Light electrical touches passed through my rampant nipples and then the entirety of both breasts. I’d only felt these sensations once before in the Wet Pack Treatment and they had, at first, been very pleasant, but now, with my chest flesh filled with blood and the constant suction being applied, they were even more strongly felt! Suddenly a series of throbbing, strong shocks sundered the pleasurable sensations into a million pieces and I screamed against the gag, twisting dementedly in my restraints trying to escape the awful pulses. I didn’t think I could stand it and my nipples seemed to catch fire while the pulsing waves continued to assault me over and over, but that was only the beginning!

The suckling below increased slowly in maddening waves of stimulation and I hardened again around the deep intrusion of the catheter tube. Horribly, the shocks from my butt plug and up the length of the tube began once more, rippling the full length of my trapped and armoured maleness in a mind destroying sequence that could not be escaped, then they got stronger and stronger! In short moments I was howling against my gag again, then my body exploded once more in a mind melting orgasm and I passed out.

The girls had stayed in the cell to watch me undergo the initial bouts of therapy, but an hour later, left me to suffer the unstopping, merciless attentions of the machines. I didn’t hear the turning of the key and the dead bolt of the lock siding into place with solid thud, leaving me locked alone in my cell, strapped down, helmeted, deafened, blinded and gagged.

Finally, I came awake with nothing being done to me and began frantically wondering if the girls were really going to let me out of here in a year, or ever? Maybe I was getting paranoid, but such are the thoughts of a real mental patient.

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