It's been almost a week since I last checked-in on our less-than-eager subject. From her current files, it appears that the treatment
is achieving some desired results, but that Jenny
may be showing improvements in her behaviour and attitude in an attempt merely to curry favour and perhaps avoid further therapy sessions. It is also rather curious that something as playful and cheerful as a
delicate fingertip massage could bring forth such childish tantrums and downright fitful displays. She has actually been known to go into something resembling a nervous/psychotic breakdown during sessions of therapy with Nurse Ratchet, sobbing and blubbering like a petulent brat until her half-hour treatments are over with for the day.
Having spent the last two days down in the
Hold strapped loosely to a chair amongst the gibbering, utterly mad mob of, ahem, "past patients" has given her a renewed sense of determination to 'graduate' from our 12-step procedures at the Klinic, and we've decided to try to again attempt to soothe the inner tension and stress away with a procedure that's bound to work to slendid effect.
Jenny is led up from the lower bowels of the asylum, er,
Klinic,then cleaned-up and tightly strapped-in to a cloth straight-jacket. This special straight-jacket has a reinforced, wide strap that runs between the thighs, hooking from back-to-front not unlike many standard straight-jackets. In this case, however, the strap is fitted with round seams for inserting a vibrating dildo and plug that are snugly and firmly held into place when the jacket is fully buttoned and strapped into place.
Jenny is then led gingerly to the now familiar examination table(bed), where she is carefully lifted onto the mattress near the foot of the bed, in a kneeling position facing the head of the bed. Already, she is reverting to her primal-nature, nearly in tears at the prospect of the corrections-to-come.
Next, a set of pillories is brought up to the foot of the bed, and her feet are locked into place widely splayed towards the endposts, leaving her in a rather awkward balance, her weight distributed between her knees and her ankles confined in the pillory, her arms held in a tight hug around her midsection by the straight-jacket
Thus, she is all-but-readied for her session, a mouth-inhibitor(i.e. ballgag) completes the tableau.
With Jenny wobbling on her knees, trying to maintain a balance, and not fall facefirst towards the blankets, and the sum total of her vocalizations amounting to muffled groans, snorts, and whimperings due to the big rubber Klinic gag, I then proceed to lecture her on why she was brought into our care here at the Klinic, what we had hoped to achieve through her therapy, and what we could have perhap done differently to bring about the sort of contented wellness and general sense of
hands-on treatment that we try to provide our clients. Blathering on about the complexities of the Klinic's methods and the positive resluts(ahem,
results) we've achieved with similar patients, our state-of-the-art treatment centers, and onandonand on...
...I purposely waste a good seven-to-ten minutes boring even
me into a near catatonic, almost hypnotic state.
The whole time, our darling patient makes a valiant and successful attempt to stay both balanced on her knees,and swivelling to and fro, peeking over the shoulder of her straight-jacket to attempt to see where I am hovering while I pace back and forth at the foot of the bed, considering the next step in Jenny's treatment plan, blathering about the seriousness of her potentially permanent hypersensitivity, the effects it could contribute to in her laterlifeinterpersonalcomunicationswith significantothersofvorpalrabbitlustingetcetalblahblahblah...
The strain on our bouncy little patient is apparent by the time I finally decide on the proper 'happiness inducement' tunes for Jenny to enjoy during her therapy. I suppose now is as good a time as ever to whisper in her ear that the tip of the anal-plug that she is all-too acutely aware of at present is spiked with XTC, and that she should be feeling the first waves of warm fuzzies cascading through her body shortly(I'm lying, of course, but curious to report what sort of effect the suggestible placebo-effect will induce...)
Given her decidedly unbalanced state, I prefer
this little ditty to keep her feeling groovy and mellow. Headphones replaying the happy tune repeatedly, and a tight black scarf wound tightly around her head, and our brave little patient is ready to achieve altered states of relaxation and improvement with no worries about outside environment interferences.
With a quick
=buzz buzz= of the remote-wand to give Jenny some idea of the unavoidable positive energies emitting from the vibrating toys so snugly strapped into place, I make her fully aware of what will occur should she lose her by now shakily jiggling, precarious kneeling position during the treatment and wind-up faced-down, leg's-spread, in a straight-jacket on the mattress(both vibrators on, at full-throttle: a little bit of a "To Happy" kindova place to really 'get one's head together in', if you know what I mean---and I think you do).
Naturally, our already reticent patient is showing signs of rapid compiance and a readiness to respond to a rigorous therapy session. It's been a good 25 minutes now, and I haven't even so much as brushed against Jenny's oh-so-soft soles or her tiny curled toes. I do hope she is able to maintain something approaching a measurable level of composure this week, and not break-down into the fiesty, almost possessed little demon she became last week.
You'd think she didn't appreciate all the effort that goes into her weekly treatment(Dr. Kobb mulls to himself as seats himself comfortably at the foot of the bed, admiring Jenny's insanely sensitive feet, and clicking on the sonicare's he holds in each hand...).
