Subduing Jacqueline Read online

  Title Page

  SUBDUING JACQUELINE

  By

  Jordan Church

  Publisher Information

  Published in 2011 by

  Cambridge House Publishing LLP

  Digital Edition Converted and Distributed in 2011 by

  Andrews UK Limited

  www.andrewsuk.com

  Copyright 2007

  This edition published2011

  The right of Jordan Church to be identified as the author of this book has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 and 78 of the Copyright and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved.

  All characters and events depicted are entirely fictitious; any resemblance to anyone living or dead is entirely coincidental

  THIS IS FICTION. IN REAL LIFE ALWAYS PRACTISE SAFE SEX

  Chapter 1

  Becca thought Wendy Carter was quite a looker, especially for a woman in her mid-40s. Becca wasn’t able to see Ms. Carter’s face clearly at that moment due to bright light beaming through the huge bank of windows behind Carter’s desk. Carter’s coppery brown hair appeared nearly angelic in the slant of blazing winter sunlight while completely shadowing her eye sockets and face. For a disturbing moment the pooling of darkness on Carter’s face gave Becca the optical illusion of a dirt-covered skull wearing a good wig.

  “Becca, I’ve asked you here to discuss your prior request. You asked to be familiarized with all aspects of the Goethner-Varner Mental Health Hospital. For the most part, you have learned everything you need to be a successful Psychiatric Nurse. However, in the past I’ve refused to assign you to the Maximum Security ward. Now I find certain events have caused me to second guess myself. Perhaps I’ve been too overprotective. After all, the more you stretch your boundaries, the more your full potential is tapped. “

  Carter’s words sounded halting and garbled. It was late afternoon. Possibly Carter was nearing the end of a particularly stressful day. Becca could hardly imagine the challenges a Director of Operations at a mental health facility must face. Still, she hoped one day she would know firsthand. That’s why she tried so hard to learn everything. Becca was ambitious but in a good way, just wanting to maximize her potential and her contributions to society.

  “Are you sure? I can have full access? “ Up until today Carter adamantly kept her away from the Maximum Security Ward, stating Becca’s natural beauty could be a source of disruption to some patients, the ones whose particular mental dysfunctions were slanted to sexual issues. Some of them were committed to the Maximum Security Ward due to mistreatment of women. Carter did not want to fan the flames by giving them any extra fuel for their smouldering fantasies.

  “You’ll have access but you’ll find you have a lot less freedom that you could imagine. I think, oh, it would be good for you to try new challenges and interact with someone like Mr. Jones. He is truly one of a kind. I think your brightness could get his attention for the better. So, I give you my blessing. Focus only on Wayne Jones for the time being. Visit him. Try to draw him out. “

  “Ah, thank you, Ms. Carter. “

  “Becca, from now on just call me Wendy. Equals should be on a first name basis. “

  Becca felt puzzled but gratified and a little amazed. None of the Becca’s co-workers called Ms. Carter by her first name. The name Wendy seemed too soft, an incongruous fit for the highly educated and commanding Carter.

  “Sure, Ms. Car… I mean Wendy. Thanks. “

  “Go visit Mr. Jones. I’m sure you’ve already heard an earful about him from the media and the other staff members, but don’t be afraid. Learn what he has to say. Study him by experiencing him. Come to understand his philosophy. Find out how we can help him be happy. Be agreeable. Do not upset him. “

  This all sounded pretty weird to Becca. Mr. Jones was a patient, not a valued customer. Still, she was thrilled to have access to the maximum security ward and the most intriguing patients.

  “All right, I won’t let you down. “

  “When you first meet Mr. Jones, be sure to immediately let him know I sent you. That’s important. “

  “I will. “

  Becca huddled against the frigid winter air and entered the numeric code Carter issued her to gain entry through the gate to Building C. A twelve-foot fence topped with barbed wire that dripped icicles circled the maximum security area one hundred feet out from all sides of the building. As Becca started along the salt strewn path leading to the guard house, her straight black hair swept across her cheek and mouth. Her hair was long, thick, fragrant, an effective scarf to protect her from the rising winds and plummeting temperature. Becca knew there would be no snowfall tonight. It was too cold for snow.

  Becca entered the warmth of the Building C lobby, surprised there was no guard at the desk. Even in the Minimum Security Wards there were usually two guards unless one was making rounds, dealing with a difficult patient, doing paperwork in the office, or using the restroom. Becca relaxed when she spotted the doors to the office and restroom behind the guard’s desk, sure the guards would soon emerge.

  Becca hoped Wilrey wasn’t one of the guards on duty. She figured he’d fit better here as an inmate than a guard. Whenever she saw him in the cafeteria he always stared at her with a creepy intensity. She especially didn’t want to knock on the office door, let alone the restroom door, to ask Wilrey for help like some scared little girl.

  Becca spun the Visitor Log Book around, signed it, and entered the time and the patient she intended to visit. Everyone, even staff, had to sign in and out on the log. This was a security measure to ensure no patient could escape by pretending to be a staff member or visitor, and also to avoid forgetting a visitor and locking them in with the dangerous crazies. One of the guards was supposed to co-sign. Becca figured Wilrey or whoever could play catch up and do that later. If they bitched then she’d point out it was their fault for not being at their assigned station.

  Becca skimmed the entries and noticed Ms. Carter spent the previous afternoon in the ward, reason given as visiting Wayne Jones. What would they have discussed for three hours? Becca flipped through the pages, realizing Ms. Carter had seen Jones every day including this past Sunday. How odd. Perhaps Ms. Carter took a personal interest in Jones due to all the media attention. Becca inwardly scolded herself for being cynical. Ms. Carter was a professional and wouldn’t let salacious gossip influence her work habits.

  Becca peeked behind the desk and realized the lock mechanism was the same as in the Minimum Security Ward. Pushing a button at the guard’s desk released an electronic lock on the double doors, automatically opening them as a person approached. The guards also had controls which locked and unlocked each patient suite.

  Becca figured she would run into Wilrey or another guard walking the ward hallway. Failing that, she would visit with Wayne Jones through the window in his suite door. She wanted to get started and didn’t feel like waiting around.

  Becca buzzed herself in, slid through the double doors, and started down the hall. Anticipation kicked up her heart rate and flushed her face pink. She found every patient interesting but these dangerous ones were especially fascinating. She’d discussed many of the most extreme cases at length with the staff assigned to the Maximum Security Ward. She’d pored over case files and studied pictures of all the resident criminally insane. However, none captivated her attention as much as the legendary media sensation Wayne Jones, also known as “The King of Rapture. “

  Becca wanted to make a difference and chose to work at Goethner-Varner Mental Health Hospital because of its constructive outlook. It was reflected in the name of the facility. The
founders, now long dead and buried, believed mental health issues were no different than ailments of the body. If an organ was faulty, you fixed it and got the patient back on their feet and back into society. They believed the same was true of any and all mental health issues. To reflect their philosophy and encourage society to be more accepting, they named the facility a hospital.

  Becca glanced at the chart hanging on the door of the first suite she passed. Radavich. His proclivity was necrophilia. They’d arrested him “getting busy” in a graveyard. Ick. She tiptoed past the room, ducking under the window. She didn’t even want that guy looking at her… maybe imagining doing unspeakable things to her dead body. That would be bad luck.

  Passing a cell with a chart for a Lilly Hopkins she perked up her ears. Little holes in the cell door windows of each suite allowed sound to pass into the hallway. These were closable in case the patients made too much noise. The meal slot below the window also allowed some sound through despite the metal hinged flap on it. This was for meals to slide in to the patient if they were acting too violent for dining with the other patients. Hadn’t she heard some of the other PA’s talking about Lilly Hopkins?

  Becca heard what sounded like sex going on in the suite. She paused, frowning, about to look through the window but then remembered Lilly was a chronic masochistic masturbator. No way did she want to see that spectacle.

  She thought about Lilly’s case, wondering what she could learn from it. Although nearly always dishevelled, Lilly was pretty and blond. If she was normal she’d have her pick of men, but Lilly favored masturbation over normalcy. She’d heard Lilly even managed to masturbate while restrained in a straitjacket by rubbing herself all over inanimate objects. Worse, she often simultaneously harmed herself by scratching and pulling at her flesh, usually in the most tender of vulnerable areas. Poor Lilly! She probably climaxed two dozen times a day!

  Obviously what Becca heard was not sex – at least not sex between adults – just another one of Lilly’s lonely orgasms. Becca wondered about Lilly’s limited but extreme experiences. She’d turned her back on having a role in society in return for never-ending sexual gratification. Becca shivered and felt a tightening in her lower abdomen. Her interpretation of Lilly’s fate, she had to admit, really didn’t sound as bad as it should. Becca maintained her decision to refrain from observing Lilly and moved to the next suite. She had no desire to view troubled Lilly in mid-act.

  Becca was pleasantly surprised to pass another occupied suite. According to her colleagues who worked in Building C, usually half the suites were empty. There were many competing facilities nowadays and better treatment programs so Building C was usually slow. But business was booming at Goethner-Varner for some reason.

  Becca passed another suite, observing the name on the chart was “Tillings”. Becca was amused by the coincidence. It was the same last name as a psychologist who visited Jones a while back to determine if his evaluation was correct. Becca knew there were whispers that Jones was not at all insane and that some political and legal manoeuvring had committed him to Goethner-Varner.

  The ward hallway turned ninety degrees up ahead leading to the longer arm of the L-shaped wing. Jones’ suite was right before the turn. Becca figured a guard was just around the corner. But before she spoke with the guard, she intended to visit with Jones through his window. She could do this without disturbing other patients, as Jones was not known for loud outbursts. He was, in fact, known for his unearthly calm.

  Becca was shocked to find Jones’ cell door wide open with Jones alone in the suite. His back was to her while he looked out the barred window at the grounds of the Goethner-Varner Mental Health Hospital. Becca noted with alarm that Jones’ arms were completely free and unrestrained. She stepped just inside the door and glanced in every corner of the room to confirm Jones was indeed alone and unguarded.

  Jones spoke without turning and looking to see who had entered, “Welcome. Most welcome. You are wearing heels so you must be a woman. You have a quick soft step so I’d guess you are quite slim. Using my more special power I can tell you are most attractive and I’d guess a brunette. “

  Becca was startled for a moment before she realized he could see her reflection in the window. This guy wasn’t going to fool her with little tricks. She may only be 20 but she wasn’t born yesterday either.

  Jones spun in place, his eyes zeroing in on her. Light from the fading sunset gleamed off his shaved skull. He had light hazel eyes and a deeply lined face. Becca thought he looked a lot younger than his 51 years of age.

  Jones spoke, “Yes, you are very attractive. Beautiful. Ravishing. Do you know beauty is like a weapon? “

  “Ah, Mr. Jones, why are you alone in here? “

  “Aren’t prisoners usually alone in their cells? “

  “Yeah, of course, but not with their door unlocked, arms free, and no one in attendance! Besides, you’re not a prisoner, you’re a patient. We’re here to help you. “

  “As far as my relative freedom at the moment, I’ve made known and persuaded those who needed to be persuaded I pose no risk of escape. Rather than cause any harm I plan to do most of you a great deal of good.

  “As for naming me a patient instead of a prisoner you are completely mistaken. I am not a patient because I require no aid and have no mental or physical aberrations. Ironic that being a patient makes me so impatient. It is also ironic that my enemies were impatient to make me a patient. Since, despite my freedom of movement, I am not free to leave, I most logically am a prisoner.

  “As for being here to help me, no, you are not. You, like others, are here to help yourself to me. Wanting to mentally poke and prod, dismantle my Id and my Ego to see what makes me tick, before putting them back together ticking in a way you find more satisfactory and less alarming. You seek to make me normal, average, to destroy what makes me special. You are not here to help me but, in the end, yes, you will be a help to me. “

  Jones’ eyes fixed on her, calculating and anticipatory. Becca didn’t know what to say. She felt like she might be in danger and that tightly wound Jones was about to make a move. But she was frozen in place, afraid any twitch on her part, any sound, would trigger him. Where were the guards when she needed them?

  “Come closer, Little One. Tell me your name. “

  She made no move but responded verbally, “Becca. “

  “Why do you think you are here? What has brought you to me other than my own good fortune? “

  “Ms. Carter asked me to visit you. You know; understand where you’re coming from. In fact, she insisted I tell you she sent me. “Becca hoped dropping Ms. Carter’s name would disarm Jones and put this unsettling meeting on a more secure footing.

  “Mmmm, Wendy sent you. Good work. Goooooood work. When you see her next report back that I am satisfied and tell her the following ‘Master Jones says, ‘You’re a good little girl, Wendy, good girl. “

  Becca was shocked by Jones’ disrespect, but fear tempered her response. “I’m not comfortable telling her that. Maybe you’ll have to discuss it with her yourself. “

  Despite her dislike and fear of the man, Jones had somehow managed to move closer to her without her noticing. His proximity made her feel like running away.

  Jones spoke low and earnestly, “You think Wendy would be offended by my words? You are wrong. She will be thrilled, filled with pride. Be honest, wouldn’t you like to be told the same? That you are a good girl who has succeeded in pleasing her Master, her soul’s King? “

  Hearing his demented words, Becca’s sanity reappeared, chasing away her fear and restoring her confidence. This was just another crazy patient, and there was most definitely a guard just around the corner. It was time to take control back. “Not at all. Especially if that “Master” was you. “

  “Are you here to understand me? “

  Becca lifted her chin. “Yes, exactly
. “

  “To understand me you will need to understand what I can do, the effect I can create. The effect I can achieve in the emotions and sensations of a woman. “

  “Just what are you saying, exactly? “ Becca’s confidence deflated as fear raced into the empty places once occupied by enthusiasm. She desperately wanted to flee, but sensed any move would trigger his attack all the sooner. Unfortunately, doing nothing was obviously not a solution either.

  “Tell me. One way or the other, do you, in fact, want to understand me? “

  Becca could tell by the weight in his tone that this was a crucial moment. Could she deny her mission? Was she willing to fail in her new responsibility? Would understanding Jones be dangerous or would it be more dangerous to back down and show fear to this predator?

  Becca braced herself and stood a little taller, “Yes, I want to understand you and I will. “

  Jones smiled broadly, triumphantly, “There it is, my pretty little new toy. The invitation was all I morally required. “

  With that Jones’ left hand lashed out to grab her right shoulder and pin her up against the wall while his right hand plunged down just below her skirt, hooked up, and roughly slapped her pussy through her thin panties. His fingers cupped and squeezed her vulva with the base of his inverted palm, rubbing her panties harshly against the top of her slit.

  Becca yelped, eyes wide. Despite bracing herself for action she was not ready for so bold a move. She had no strength to fight him, no idea how to escape the situation, and little prospect of being able to form an idea while his palm pummelled her pussy. One of her hands went to his hand on her shoulder and the other raced down to grab his right forearm. They didn’t stop him. They didn’t even slow him down.

  She tried to close her legs but he already had one of his own between them. His hand was rubbing. Rubbing. . .