Page 10 of Exposed (The Wellard Asylum #1)

A s I stomp through the short hallway back to my office, I consider my actions.

Distance will give Violet time to process her desires and make her yearn for my return.

Typically, I’d let Oliver have exploration time with my patients while he finishes the notes; however, that protocol felt incorrect with this one.

I want to control every aspect of her. Thus, I instructed him not to touch the patient’s pussy, mouth, or ass.

Her orifices are off limits. They belong to me now.

Oliver will never disobey me. I can snap my fingers, and he will literally bow before me like a peasant. Even a man like him can be conditioned to my liking.

As I enter my office, Benji rises from his chair next to my desk.

I take my own seat. Though it isn’t standard to leave a guardian in a doctor’s office, I knew Violet would benefit from an audience and Benji’s docile behavior.

While I was gone, a surveillance camera in the corner of my office recorded his reactions.

I’m always watching. He may enjoy stealing files from me, but he’ll never outmatch me.

Benji’s breathing is loud and heavy. The pathetic fool must be distressed already. A woodsy, slightly acidic scent fills my nostrils as the two of us observe Violet and Oliver beyond the mirrored wall.

Violet crosses her arms over her chest, hiding her breasts. Oliver tilts his head, then moves his lips.

Pleasure bubbles in my chest. Covering herself like that simply won’t do. I have no doubt Oliver will correct her actions.

Benji’s lips tremor, his pallor weaker than usual. This final act of bringing in the patient—his supposed girlfriend—has obviously caused him alarm. I jot down a note about Benji’s demeanor, then straighten myself.

“As you can see,” I begin. “The patient is quite volatile.”

At that moment, Violet swats at Oliver, and he yanks her wrist toward a restraint on the side of the exam table.

Violet bashes his back with her other hand, but Oliver has been trained for cases like this.

Once her first wrist is bound, he quickly works on the other.

She flails her shoulders, desperately trying to free herself from the confinement.

But soon, both of her wrists are restrained to the exam table.

It’s a shame she didn’t find her mother’s file with my new note in it first. I’ll have to bring it to the next step of her treatment.

Oliver touches her breasts, cupping them in his palms, then he tweaks her nipples. Violet flinches.

A subtle tension blooms in my chest. A nipple isn’t an orifice. Oliver is technically obeying me. Still, my jaw ticks.

Perhaps Benji isn’t the only one distressed. I’m not usually a possessive man. I’ve watched Oliver tinker with my patients plenty of times, and in the past, it was amusing .

As I stare at the mirror, I imagine Oliver locked in a cage, waiting for his next meal. Once he’s begging for food and water, I’ll give him a fork to eat himself or stab his own throat.

I can’t get rid of Oliver yet though. He’s too valuable to me. He’s been working on a brain microchip for a separate project I’m working on, and I need his expertise.

For now.

Once this meeting is over, I will adjust Oliver’s instructions. He will no longer touch Violet’s body unless it is to complete an instruction, such as restraining her or feeding her. He may assist me, but he can never use her…because I consider Violet mine.

A chill runs down my spine, the hairs on my arms lifting.

Mine. That isn’t a word I use often. I swish my tongue around my mouth, enjoying the salty sourness lingering on my taste buds from licking her juices off of my fingers earlier.

I run my palm over my trousers, stroking myself under the desk.

Over the spot of pre-cum, I flex my fingers, tightening my hold over the head of my cock, remembering how her soft pussy walls squeezed the blood out of my fist.

There are so many things I can tease out of a woman like Violet. By the time I’m done training her, she’ll hardly be a woman at all. More of a thing. A toy for my amusement. A slutty little twat eager to be used, desperate to do every disgusting thing I tell her.

And the cunt will beg for it.

“Is it as bad as I thought?” Benji asks.

He avoids my eyes and clears his throat.

“I’ve been trying to help her. I don’t know.

She’s just—” He pulls on his collar, chokes on his spit, and coughs.

Eventually, he continues. “It’s weird, right?

She liked your fist. There’s something off about that, you know?

Don’t get me wrong, Doc. I love her. She’s great.

After spending years with her, how could I not fall for her, you know?

It’s just…I don’t know about this. I’m trying, but I’m scared, Doc. Is it bad? It’s bad, isn’t it? I?—”

I don’t blame Benji for falling in love with Violet. One moment, he’s simply observing her quirks, hardly aware of her potential deviancy, and the next, the poor man falls in love with the cunt.

Like Benji, I want to see Violet thrive; what that means to each of us is vastly different. Benji wants her to be fully independent. I, on the other hand, want to see her blossom into her truest form: my personal toy.

“It’s worse, I’m afraid,” I say. I massage my sore cock, eager for my own release and to force the slutty bitch to experience every delicious pain imaginable. “As I’m sure you saw during the preliminary examination, we tested her for objectification arousal. And she…”

I pause my words for effect, knowing I could tell him exactly how wet his girlfriend’s cunt was, and his entire world would fall into shock. The poor man would likely need to be hospitalized himself.

Then again, the idiot already knows the truth.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” I say. “But Violet is by far the most severe case I’ve ever encountered.”

Benji’s shoulders droop, then he grabs his chest. Amusement buzzes inside of me, shifting like a swarm of insects in my rib cage, yet I keep my expression dismissive.

“My concern is she will only find true healing if she completes a necessary stay at the asylum,” I say. Benji swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his thin neck. I broaden my shoulders. “She must begin the successive testing phase.”

At those words, Benji flashes with fright, his adrenaline a white light rooting itself in his pupils. A memory, perhaps, triggered from those words: testing phase.

Perhaps Benji needs his own stay in our asylum.

“As you know, we begin with the initial examination, followed by the diagnosis, which is our current state,” I explain.

He fidgets in his chair, the pathetic rat.

I sneer down my nose. “Next, we begin the successive testing phase, which involves more assessments of her behavior. If treatment is necessary, I shall grant her a short return to her living quarters to collect any obligatory medications.”

“Medications?”

My upper lip curls. Do I need to explain everything to him?

“We prefer to avoid physiological illnesses at the asylum,” I say.

“We must keep our patients in a prime physical condition, and I’ve always respected my fellow colleagues’ advice.

” I chuckle briefly, then return to my stoicism.

“After that, she shall enter the asylum for an extended period, during which she will complete her intellectual training.”

I crack my neck and tighten my ponytail, energy tingling in my extremities. This should be routine to me, but the idea of keeping Violet close to me while I mold her into my perfect object excites me. She has so much potential, and we’ve only just begun.

“We have no estimate of how long the training will take,” I say. “It could be years.”

Benji burrows in his chair, a rodent preparing for the inevitable winter. Many would expect more of a reaction— perhaps even violence—from a caring boyfriend, but I’ve come to understand Benji’s behavior. This fidgeting is his only sign of distress; defiance is not in his nature.

Since Benji first explained his concerns with Violet, my interest in her has grown exponentially. This initial examination and my own reaction to Oliver’s assistance has sealed my need to keep the cunt for myself.

Once she finally enters the Wellard Asylum to begin her training, there will be no escape. She’ll be in my cage forever.

Because of my other project, I will have a limited amount of time to use her fully conscious potential, and thus, I will take full advantage of her final hours until I finally merge her with my secret project. I have additional curiosities when it comes to that phase of her existence.

“A-and you’re sure it’s absolutely necessary?” Benji stutters. “There’s nothing else we can do? An outpatient thing? I don’t know. What other options do we?—”

“It is absolutely necessary, ” I snap. A foul stench floats around us, reminiscent of ammonia, and his heavy breath is an incessant bell.

I abandon my cock and link my fingers above the desk. I hate when men like him show signs of insubordination.

I grit my teeth. “You want what’s best for her, don’t you?”

“I do, but?—”

“In our past consultations, you mentioned the patient’s obsession with her birth mother, implying the news about her mother’s death may have been the catalyst to her sexual inclinations.

” The bumbling idiot nods his head frantically.

My jaw twitches. “While you are alone, perhaps you should visit the mother’s grave and see if there are any signs of escalation she’s been hiding from you. ”

“Right,” he mumbles. “Escalations. She always goes there. I went once when we first moved in together. Maybe I should go now, while she’s with you. She might?—”

“Good,” I say. “I’m afraid you may find disturbing proof of her illness. Take note of it. Report back to my assistant; he’ll add the information to Violet’s file.”

I stand and peer down at the little man. It’s irritating that not only am I not back with my favorite patient already, but I have to explain the situation in minute detail to this complete idiot.

It must be done, though. It’s part of the process to release her from all other control.

“The patient alluded to desiring sexual relations with her mother,” I lie.

Benji’s stature crumbles, a skeleton made of popsicle sticks tumbling to the floor.

Feigning disgust, I shake my head and click my tongue.

“Not only is it incest, it may also be necrophilia. Once you see proof of her escalations, you will understand how badly she needs my guidance. And if she denies any part of it, trust me: it’s simply a manifestation of her symptoms.”

Benji moans, and I suppress a grin. Violet has yet to mention her mother to me; Benji doesn’t know that though.

Since the first time we met, Benji has always been agreeable toward me, enthusiastic to obey my words.

Still, I need his full support when it comes to Violet, and there’s a chance this is the first time he’s truly connected with another person; thus, I need him to fully believe she’s incapable of existing outside of the asylum.

Hints of incestuous necrophilia will seal her fate.

I gesture toward the door. “We will begin the successive testing phase soon. You may have a word with Violet before we begin.” I jot another note on the file in front of me about Benji’s subtle resistance in agreeing to the treatment.

“After that, we don’t have a cafeteria, but there is a kitchen. Please make yourself useful there.”

He says a few more words questioning me; I dismiss him with my hand. The idiot leaves the room to discuss the diagnosis with his girlfriend.

His girlfriend…for now.

Soon, she’ll be completely mine, and I will always do what’s best for her.