Page 37 of Asylum
I’ll never get enough of her.
My fingers glide down the valley between her breasts, her abdomen, over her pronounced hip bone. They have a mind of their own as they slip between her thighs, spreading her pussy lips open. I lick my lips, suddenly starving for Olivia’s sweet, unique flavor. Crawling down her body, I press my face to her core, my tongue darting out, licking her from ass to clit.
Fuck.
Sucking her clit into my mouth, I slide two fingers inside her opening, thrusting in and out slowly. After a few minutes, her pussy begins to weep, the sound of her arousal filling the air around us. My control snaps, and I move over her, lining mycock up with her entrance. My hips snap forward, driving inside her so forcefully, her ankles strain against her bindings.
“Fuck, little doll. If only you were awake to scream my name.” I groan against her throat, nipping the side of her neck.
My mind loses all rational thinking skills, and I fuck her into the mattress as if my life depends on it. I give no thought for her comfort, or how sore she’ll be when she wakes up. In this moment, she solely exists for my pleasure, a silent fuck doll, none the wiser to the brutal assault on her body.
My release creeps down my spine, my cock swelling right before I erupt inside her swollen cunt. Cum fills her tight, little hole, leaking out around me as I continue driving inside her until I’m satisfied. Her name is ripped from my lips as my body collapses, my chest heaving while struggling to regain my senses.
Rolling onto my side, I lay my head on her chest, listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. My hand cups her pussy tightly, sealing her entrance so my cum stays inside her.
My mind wonders, and I find myself thinking of the future.
If I were capable of love.
If there is one person in this world who deserves it.
It would be her.
My perfect, little doll.
We’ve been at my home for a week now. I’ve put in for a few weeks of vacation time to spend with Olivia. It’s not off to a great start.
She woke up three days ago, and it was anticlimactic to say the least.
While the stab wound is healing nicely, no sign of infection, she hasn’t spoken a word.
She refuses to look at me.
I’ve never been treated like this before, and I highly disapprove. She’s acting like I don’t exist, like I’m not the one nursing her back to health, feeding her, giving her sponge baths.
Ungrateful fucking brat.
If she’s well enough to have a shitty attitude, then she’s well enough for the next step.
Hold onto your rage as long as you can, little doll.
It’s all about to disappear.
Acouple of years ago, Dr. Halstead introduced me to thelobotomy.
Fascinated by the inner workings of the mind, I found myself consumed by the idea of rewiring someone’s brain. I spent the majority of my time researching the history of the procedure and learning how the process has evolved. We were only taught a fraction about lobotomies in my college courses; it was skimmed over because it’s seen as taboo.
The original leucotomy, also known as the prefrontal lobotomy, provided me with a glimpse into the technique, consisting of drilling a hole into the side or top of the patient’s skull, exposing their frontal lobe. That alone has my interest piqued, and I couldn’t stop myself from digging deeper. The doctor used a scalpel to cut the nerve fibers, the idea being to force the brain to develop new neural pathways, hoping for better emotional responses. While anesthesia was given to numb the brain, the patient was awake, and often asked to recite poetry while the procedure was being performed.
Some people thought it was barbaric, but I found it intriguing.
Another doctor tried a variation of the leucotomy. Instead of cleaving the nerves with a scalpel, he used a tool called a leucotome with a narrow shaft much like a syringe. It housed a wire that was inserted into the brain, severing the connections by rotating to core out brain tissue.
I found this alternative creative, but nothing compares to thetransorbital lobotomy.
Most people refer to it as theicepick lobotomy.
The doctor who evolved the procedure from drilling a hole into someone’s skull to simply piercing their eye socket was a man to be admired. The public disgraced him, labeling him as a narcissist instead of the genius he actually was. The man had no formal surgical training, yet he performed thousands of lobotomies on people who suffered from different types of mental illness. He refined the lobotomy, making it possible for psychiatrists such as myself to execute the treatment in office, without a hospital stay. His method provided a faster recovery time, the swelling in the brain decreased by weeks.