Thread: Lawrence-Fischer Mental Health Facility - Ward B (esielle&Crusade)

Clayton wasn't accustomed to fighters. He hadn't seen the sort of fire he saw in Goldie in well...ever. He was actually a refreshing change of pace. He was used to getting patients when they were already drugged up to the point of numbness. Essentially, at times, the place seemed like a housing unit for zombies. He saw patients so medicated, it was almost as if they floated rather than walked. Maybe he needed whatever they were having. It was some of their near catatonic states that made his devious intentions so simple to set in motion. He'd never actually fucked any of the women in the facility. Honestly, none of them were worth his time. That was, until he met Goldie. He knew she'd be his first. Sure, he'd solicited blowjobs here and there. There was something powerful about a woman dropping to her knees in front of him. He particularly enjoyed watching their eyes water and them gag as his cock prodded their throat and there was nothing quite like seeing his cum plastered across their face when all was said and done. Fortunately, patient complaints fell on deaf ears. A lot of the women in the facility were products of sexual abuse, so their claims only seemed like an off-chute of those experiences and not something Clay would do. It was good to be king and in a matter of time, he was going to add Goldie as another notch in his proverbial work bedpost. However, she was going to be a lot more fun. He almost welcomed a fight. He welcomed the fire. He didn't want it to be too easy after all. Things had gotten to a point of stagnation around the place and Goldie was like a B-12 shot for Lawrence-Fischer. It was obvious from the way she'd started to behave that Goldie was caving. He didn't know if it was just an act she was putting on to try to get in his good graces or if she was genuinely afraid of him, but whatever the case was, Clay knew he was starting to break her a bit. As he stood in front of the doorway, he noted the trajectory the young woman took to grab her things. She was avoiding him. Avoiding everything about him. When she told him to stay away from her, the words had no conviction or power in them. Defeated already? And here he thought he had a fighter on his hands. Don't talk to me that way, Clayton retorted, shaking his head. Whether you've come to accept it or not, I'm your direct superior at this facility. So, if you cooperate, I'll have that sexy ass of yours out of here in no time. But if you keep talking to me the way you have been and fighting me, you're going to be in this room for a lot longer than anticipated. I can make that happen. Now, does that sound like a good time? He was obviously just flexing his power and truthfully, he did have that power. It was just that it really didn't matter how she behaved, he planned on keeping her around, at least until someone comparable took up residence there. For the time being, Goldie Ocasio was the cream of the crop and Clayton wasn't letting her go. Finally, her apologies came. Although they didn't come across as genuine, Clay took them at face value and smirked. See, now was that so hard? Goldie, Goldie, Goldie. You're so fucking precious. What are you doing here, anyway? A beautiful, strong-willed girl like yourself, locked away in a place like this? Shouldn't you be away at college, boozing it up at sorority parties and getting fucked by frat guys? It was obvious just in his candor and his unmoving body that he had no intentions of leaving just yet. Eventually, he'd have to make his rounds, but for the time being, he was satisfied learning more about the girl he was clearly going to exploit and manipulate into giving him everything he wanted.