We're all mad here (?FM+/?F+) [FINISHED]

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We're all mad here (?FM+/?F+) [FINISHED]

Post by RopeBunny »

Any similarities between this story and a popular animated movie/book are entirely purposefully done. Although I'm attempting to add my own spin to things, to go my own way and not stick to the origin script (which I'm merely cherry picking from anyway) so, don't expect a carbon copy of the tale in question but with TUGs thrown in.

This is my own work.

My thanks to a forum member, who, during a PM exchange, happened to give me the one sentence inspiration for what is to follow. I'm not sure it (the sentence) was meant to be a story idea? But I was intrigued, and couldn't stop turning it over.

Enjoy.
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001.

Agnes wants to play Battleships again.

She's seventy-one, a long time resident. Shuffling the corridors with the aid of a walking stick whilst wispy white hair blows gently behind her. She doesn't talk. And everytime we play she arranges her ships in the exact same formation. But I like Agnes. One of the orderlies, Ruth, told me Agnes is here because she killed her husband, but I'll bet the bastard deserved it. Most times I let her win, it's worth it to see her smile.

Like Agnes I'm a resident. Or maybe patient is the correct term? Probably, and according to my clothes, it's inmate. Hidden Hills is a psychiatric hospital. Criminals are sent here, those with mental states requiring extra supervision. A scattering too far twisted and warped to even stand trial. Once upon a time places like this were called lunatic asylums. Nobody here gets to leave.

My neighbours, those ladies old and young who drift through their days beside me in varying states of lucidity, are all mad. Literally.

Why am I here? I don't remember.

I did something, I must've to wind up here. Right? But, whenever I ask all I get are understanding smiles and a change of subject. There are gaps in my memory, like a field full of holes, dug randomly with no order or plan. I can feed myself, but don't know how long I've been here. I can, thankfully, wipe my own butt, but couldn't tell you my family's address, or even if I have a family. I know my name: Jude, because it's printed in neat handwriting on the sheet outside the door to my room, just above my date of birth: 31/10. Halloween. I'm twenty-five, but had to ask what year this is, like some crazy- ha -person in a time travel movie, in order to work that out. Everyone else's sheet has a list, of varying lengths: prescribed medication, whether or not they need to be restrained at lights out, notes regarding any specific behaviour that needs to be watched out for. Fun facts.

I have no list. Why? I don't know, and nobody will tell me.

The game finished, a victorious Agnes grins at me, then, with the aid of her stick, stands and shuffles away. Some of the inmates, under supervision, tend to a small vegetable garden out back. One lady spends several hours each day sweeping, though it isn't an assigned task, and she never actually collects or bins any of the dust or dirt she collects into neat uniform piles. For most of us there are no tasks.

The orderly currently on duty in the common room, there to keep an eye on us all, shakes his head but passes no verbal comment as I walk a wide circle around the table, collecting up my sunken armada. I like to be dramatic when I play games, so Battleships finds me yelling 'boom' and 'man overboard' as I fling my destroyed boats off the board. With the game tidied away, and spare time until dinner, I decide to return to my room.

"Oh." I pause, one hand still on the door handle, my feet not yet over the threshold. There's a red squirrel sitting on my bed.

Like all the bedrooms at Hidden Hills mine is a simple looking thing. The walls and ceiling are white, the carpet pale blue. My bed, a single, is metal framed with a springy mattress and thin cream duvet. I'm only allowed one pillow. Against one wall sits a three drawer dresser. I have a window, crisscrossed by steel bars, and my door, which has a small reinforced window set in it, locks from the outside.

I'm wondering whether I've got the right room, since there isn't normally a squirrel sat on my bed, and am about to step back to check the sheet tacked to the wall outside, when he looks up. "Ah," definitely male, deep and gruff, an old man's voice, "there you are. Good good." Waving me to come closer. "Come in. This is your room after all is it not?"
"Oh." I look around, managing to spot the black stain high up in one corner that I always find my gaze tracking to just before sleep. My own voice is soft, my accent very English posh. "Yes." Nodding, stepping properly into my room and releasing the door, allowing it to swing closed. "I'm sorry. You see it's just that I don't often have visitors," I gesture all around me, "in my room."
"Well then," scratching his tufty red shot through with occasional grey chin, I notice he's wearing a black navy tricorn, "where exactly do you have visitors?"
"Well." I think. "Actually. Usually." Shaking my head. "I don't."

"Do you have any tea?"
"I'm only allowed water." I point to the plastic jug, still half full. "Would you care for some, Mr squirrel?"
"Admiral."
"Mr Admiral."
"No no." Shaking his tiny head, I'm stood in front of my bed, which he's still on, now stood too. "My name is Admiral Nay."
"Admiral Nay." I giggle, thinking of my recent tabletop naval adventure. "Do you have a boat, Admiral?"
"Of course." Nodding. "Wouldn't be much of a seaman if I didn't have a boat."
"You could be a General instead."
"A general what?"
"Oh." I'm not sure, my train of thought has a nasty habit of derailing, which it just did. Shaking my head briefly to clear it, I start again. "What can I do for you today Admiral?"
"Straight to the point is it?" I nod, he nods back. "Good good. Cut through the green tape."
"Red tape."
"Is it really?"
"I think so." Shrugging. Is the tape actually any colour?

"Thrust of it is," the Admiral points, "I've been searching for you."
"You have?"
"Yes." Half muttering. "Been looking bloody everywhere too." Shaking his head, voice returning to normal. "Only thing though, need to check you're you."
"Who else would I be?"
"Quite." As though I've made a valid point. "Who else indeed."
"Is it like a written test then?"
"Nothing like that. Need to examine you is all. Formality really no doubt, but got to be done. You understand?"
"Of course."

"Are you finished?" I ask several minutes later. I've been stood still, arms held slightly away from my sides, feet shoulder width apart, trying to breathe steadily. All whilst the Admiral stands equally still on my bed, looking up at me. "What?" He exclaims. "Finished, you say? Haven't even started yet."
"But." Giving him a puzzled look. "Why not?"
"Waiting for you young lady."
"Waiting for me to, what?"
"To strip of course." Shaking his head. "Can't very well examine you with clothes on can I."
"Oh." Holding up my arm, I giggle at the sleeve of my grey hoodie. "Sorry Admiral."

We're issued clothes here, not quite prison jumpsuits, but the overall effect- that every lady looks more or less the same -is achieved. My trousers are baggy grey joggers, with the legend 'Inmate' written vertically up the lower left leg. The grey hoodie I have, which zips up at the front, is baggy too, and it too has writing, in this case 'Hidden Hills' across the back. All the writing is black. I don't wear oversized clothes on purpose, it's more the case that, being a somewhat fussy eater in a place where my meals are cooked for me, I don't eat enough to move up from a skinny six. I keep trying to ask for a bacon toastie, or crumpets, at breakfast, but every day it's porridge.

I hate porridge.

Pulling my white tee and plain grey bra up over my head, tossing them onto the small heap of clothes I've already made in one corner, I'm now naked.

"Right." Admiral Nay nods, as I stand with arms by my sides, as before. "Jolly good. Just," pointing at my chest, "what the devil are those?"
"Do you mean my breasts?" Looking down, giving my C cups, which, despite my poor diet are still firm and quite large looking on my small frame, a prod. "Breasts huh?" I nod, unable to suppress a giggle as his little face frowns suspiciously up at me. "Right. Well. Good show."

Hopping down off my bed the Admiral sniffs at my dirty white trainers. I hadn't put them on this morning, preferring to go barefoot unless I want to step outside. "May I, borrow these?"
"Of course." Nodding, wondering how he intends walking in a shoe at least ten times too big. But instead my laces are pulled backwards through the eyelets, before, taking the end of one in each paw, this strange visitor to my room ties a complex looking knot, making one long lace out of my two.

"Turn around then please Miss." Making a twirling gesture. "And bend down here for me. Hands behind you."
"You're tying me up?" I ask, half crouching on bended knees with my back to the bed, feeling the laces pinch at my crossed wrists as the Admiral's knot and rope work pulls them together. "Nothing to worry about," my wrists are jerked by another knot, "standard procedure."
"It's just," I fidget my arms, tugging, being bound is an unfamiliar sensation, "I've never been tied up before."
"All finished." Following a third tug at my wrists. "You can turn around now." Standing, I turn, bringing us face to far lower down face again. "Never been tied up you say?" Looking thoughtful. I nod, he shrugs. "Well. New experiences yes."
"Yes."
"Good good. Anyway, this is all...."
"Standard procedure." I finish for him, with a nod, which causes some of my curly below shoulder length black hair to fall across my face, where it stays regardless of how much I blow at it.

"What now Admiral?"

It seems the only part of me that warrants any kind of closer inspection is between my legs. But Admiral Nay isn't interested in my wiry black hair covered pussy- there are no razors here, lest we use them for non approved means, what's a girl to do -instead his attention is focused on my upper left inner leg. On my birthmark.

"Yes yes." Nodding, prodding at my flesh, his little scratchy claws triggering my ticklish reflex, making me giggle. "Good." Taking a series of half steps half bounds backwards, from my bed to the window sill. "I shall have to tell the others." He mutters, pulling up the window, his small body easily fitting between the bars. "Did I pass then?" I ask, enjoying the sudden rush of warm summer fresh air, shivering briefly as my exposed nipples tingle. I'd thought my window locked, since, if I want it opened I need permission, and the special key. One of many keys each orderly carries, usually on chains clipped to their jeans belt loops. "Why yes," turning back to face me, "yes indeed." A pause. "Well done."
"Thank you Admiral." I smile, happy, forgetting for a moment that I'd meant to ask not only what the exam was meant to prove, but also if Admiral Nay planned on untying me.

He jumps, with one hand holding the tricorn firmly atop his head, vanishing from my view, leaving me alone in my room. Only I'm naked, and tied up.

"Oh." Realising I'll be unable to dress myself in this state. I laugh. "Oops."
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Post by Dpsiic »

Love this story Louise, looking forward to seeing where it goes
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002.

"Jude!" Exclaims the orderly, one of two on duty, her mouth dropping open at the sight of me, butt naked, smiling, wandering into the large well lit common room. "Just what is going on?"
"Well." I think, whilst across the room Heather claps loudly, causing Sharon to look up from her jigsaw. The second orderly, a guy, stood beside her- Sharon sometimes eats the pieces -looks up too. And smiles.

"Jude!" Looking from me to her coworker. The male orderlies, of which there are only two- any other men working at Hidden Hills have other job functions and duties, such as kitchen staff or gate operative -are never rostered to bathroom duty, or any duty that could lead to them seeing any of us in less then a fully clothed state. "Tom." She points. "Out." Returning her attention to me as Tom, reluctantly it seems, leaves. "Jude. For all our sakes, cover up."
"I can't." Turning to show her my bound wrists. "You see," turning back, "there was this squirrel."
"Squirrel?"
"Yes." Several of the inmates are moving closer, giving me a small audience. "Um." Thinking. "He was red."
"A red squirrel tied you up?" The orderly pinches her nose, closes her eyes. She looks back up. "Alicia! Leave her alone." Alicia, who'd darted forwards to give my right breast a grope, darts away across the room, giggling. "Right." Taking hold of my shoulders, physically turning me back towards the door. "Enough. Go and see Dr McAvoy."
"But." Wiggling my bound arms. "Aren't you going to he...."
"Go." Pointing.

All of the inmates have to see the doctor. Some weekly. Some monthly. All except me. This, now, is my first visit.

Why is it I've not been here before?

Dr McAvoy. There's a P added between those words I notice, on the wooden nameplate resting on her desk. The desk is tidy to the point of obsession, as is the room itself. Well sorted bookshelves, a sofa and armchair positioned so those laying down can gaze out and see a glimpse of, on the right day, clear blue sky. A half dozen pot plants, all healthy, dot the room, and a framed print on one wall shows the Aurora Borealis over North Pole ice. Smiling, holding her door open for me to enter, passing no comment on my state, Dr McAvoy gestures to the sofa. "Go ahead and take a seat please...?"
"Oh. Um." I nod. "Jude."
"Jude." Allowing the door to swing closed, crossing to her desk to collect a slim black tablet. Gesturing again at the comfortable looking light green fabric sofa. "Take a seat."

"So. Jude." Dr McAvoy, her tone calm, her voice gentle, sits back in the armchair. Her feet are bare, one ankle propped up on the opposite knee. Slim legs vanish inside loose fitting light brown three quarter length cargo trousers, cinched with a black canvas belt around a skinny waist. Above is an untucked white shirt, long sleeves rolled back above the elbows, fitted snugly over an average bust. The shirt is open at the neck, creating a deep v, allowing the tops of tanned breasts to peek out at the world. Short blonde hair is tied into a sensible tail. She looks, I muse, watching her raised foot bounce to an unknown beat, like someone who plays lots of tennis.

I've laid myself along the sofas length, out of some vague notion that this is the correct procedure. With my head propped up on the low armrest I can indeed see a patch of fluffy grey cloud filled sky, the view only slightly marred by the windows bars. Laying down means my weight, what little there is of it, is pressed down on my bound wrists. It isn't uncomfortable, I'm realising, to be bound, more like strange. Maybe even a tiny bit thrilling.

"Can I offer you a drink?" Tapping at her tablet, opening her mouth to speak some more, then closing it. A brief frown crosses her face, almost a scowl. "Hmm." Swiping the page away, and the frown with it, her smile returns. "Would you care for some water?"
"No thank you."
"Not thirsty?" She must not know about my wrists, I decide. I'm about to open my mouth when. "I could get you a straw?" Dr McAvoy waves a slim black stylus towards my butt, actually my bound wrists I realise. She doesn't offer to untie me. "Oh." I think. "No. Um. Thank you Doctor."

"So. Jude." Smiling at me. "I'm Dr McAvoy. And I'm here to help, with, whatever problems are on your mind. Any issues you have, anything you'd like to discuss." She does a circle with one arm, taking in the room. "This is a safe space."
"Well." I think, what issues do I have? "Do you think they'll ever serve crumpets for breakfast?"

"Crumpets?" Tapping away, it seems everytime I speak she taps. "Jude," giving me a smile, "are you sure there isn't anything else you'd like to discuss with me?"
"I guess," looking down at my nakedness, "I'm supposed to tell you about Admiral Nay."

"So." A pause, another friendly smile, what seems to be her default facial expression. "Who is Admiral Nay?"
"He's a squirrel." I fidget, forgetting my bound wrists prevent me tapping my lips to think. "He's red."
"And is he really an Admiral?"
"Oh yes." I giggle. "He had a little hat."
"What sort of hat?"
"Like, um. It was black. Like a triangle. I saw a sailor in a movie wearing one once."
"So you've seen the hat before?"
"Yes."
"Was it the Admiral who tied you up then, Jude?"
"He told me it was standard procedure."

"He spoke," looking at me over her tablet, Dr McAvoy sure is doing lots of writing, "the Admiral spoke to you?"
"Yes." Thinking. "Not like a squirrel though. He spoke English."
"And what else did he say?"
"He said I needed to be examined."
"Examined by who?"
"By him I guess."
"And that's why you're naked?"
"Yes."

"So the red squirrel tied you up."
"Yes. In my room."
"Right." Tapping the flat side of the stylus against her tablet. "Have you been tied up before Jude?"
"No."
"Why did he only tie your wrists, do you think?"
"Oh. Um." I shrug. "Maybe he didn't have anything to tie the rest of me up with." Rolling onto my side, which points my butt at Dr McAvoy, I wave my bound wrists at her. "See, Dr, he used my laces to tie my wrists." I roll back, and shrug. "And, well, I've only got one pair of shoes."
"I see." Tap tap tap. More writing. "Well." Putting her tablet down, Dr McAvoy stands, and walks to her desk, collecting a pair of black Adidas running shoes, which she places on the floor between her armchair and the sofa I'm laid on. "What do you think he'd of done if there had been more laces?"

"Oh." Looking from the Doctor's pleasant smile to her shoes, feeling a small tingle in my belly. "Well. Um. Maybe he would've." I think, wiggling my feet. Ah. Nodding. "He probably would've tied my feet too."

I'm not really sure how it happens, or why, but the next thing I know Dr McAvoy has pulled her laces free and is using one to bind my ankles together.

"How does that feel now?" Sat back down, tablet still on the floor though, watching as I wriggle my bound limbs. "Did I," giving me what I'm sure is a teasing smile, "do as good a job as the Admiral?"
"You only used one lace." I comment, seeing the other still laid beside its shoe. I giggle. "It looks kind of lonely."
"Ah." Nodding. "Well. Jude. Do you think we should use all the laces?"
"I guess." Thinking. "The Admiral used them all."
"Indeed he did." Standing again, Dr McAvoy scoops up the final lace, crossing the room towards me.

"It's called a hogtie."
"But." Confused, squriming. "I'm not a hog?"

The forth and final, at least I hope- except that part of me strangely still tingling, which doesn't -lace, is joining my bound ankles and wrists together, behind my back. The tie has pinned my limbs close enough together that I'm able to scratch my own feet, which seems quite funny. I giggle. "Well," sat back down, tablet in hand, "how do you feel Jude?"
"A little hungry actually."
"I meant about being tied up."
"Oh." Laid on my side, my naked body facing the room, facing Dr McAvoy, I squirm some more. Not trying to escape. "I'm not trying to escape." I say, because that seems important. "Okay." Tap tap tap. Nodding. "Why not?"
"Um. I'm not sure." I look down at myself. Seeing my breasts, stood out on my skinny frame, erect nipples pointing at the Doctor. "Should I?"
"Did the Admiral want you to stay tied up, do you think?"
"He didn't say."
"But he did examine you?"
"Yes." I spread my legs wide open. "But only down there."

"I see." Tap tap tap. She frowns, staring at. Oops. I giggle, realising I'm, basically, showing off my pussy. "No no no." Shaking my head, giggling some more. "He wanted to see my birthmark."

"Just this?" Kneeling in front of me, Dr McAvoy taps my birthmark, a patch of red skin which looks vaguely like an eight pointed star. The mark, one I've had since birth, is almost four inches across. I shiver. Her taps, her whole self really: face leaning in, open shirt front nice figure blonde hair citrus smelling female. She's very close to my pussy. Very close to my helpless nakedness. For the first time since, well, it feels like forever given my patchy memory, I am. Definitely. Starting to feel turned on. I swallow, nodding. "Yes."
"Hmm." If anything leaning in closer. Is she teasing?

And then, almost a blur of motion, she's up, and back to her armchair.

"I'm going to need a photo." Holding up her tablet. "For the file."
"A photo of me?"
"Yes." Nodding. "Well. No." Pointing. "Of your mark. Could you spread your legs for me again, please. Jude."
"Um. Sure."

Dr McAvoy takes two: one of my bound wrists, which she rolls me onto my belly to take. And a close-up of my birthmark, which I'm fairly, maybe, probably, certain, doesn't have my hairy pussy in shot too.

"There." Tap tap. Putting the tablet on her desk, Dr McAvoy comes over and unties me, having first used a telephone that's bolted to her desk to call for an orderly to bring me some clothes. By the time I'm free, feeling, though I've no clue why, a little sad to no longer be tied up, a pair of grey joggers, a white tee, plus white underwear has been dropped off.

"I'd like to see you back here in two, maybe three weeks." Sat at her desk, using her computer. "Is that okay Jude?"
"Yes. Of course."
"Good." Nodding. "I'll schedule it on the system. One of the orderlies will let you know when it's time."
"Okay." I look from Dr McAvoy to the door. "Can I go and eat now? Is that alright?"
"Hmm?" Looking up, giving me her polite doctors smile. "Yes. Off you go then."

I'm about to open the door when. "Just one more thing Jude, if I may?"
"Doctor?" I turn, letting go of the handle. "I wonder." Tablet back in hand, but still behind her desk. "What is it you were doing, before you found the Admiral in your room?"
"I was." I think. "I was playing Battleships with Agnes."
"Ah." Tap tap tap. A nod. "Hmm."
"What is it?" Because her face has the look of someone who knows a thing. "Well." Giving me a final smile. "I just wondered why it might be, Jude, that you saw an Admiral squirrel just after playing a game all about naval warfare."
"Oh." Is she trying to say there was no squirrel? I open my mouth, but Dr McAvoy shakes her head, gives me a wave. "Go and have some dinner Jude, we'll talk again."

Could I really of imagined Admiral Nay?
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Post by Dpsiic »

Think I'm liking Dr McAvoy ;)
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Post by tickletied84 »

Such an in depth setting, and very detailed descriptions. Wonderful to read, and looking forward to see where the squirrel (or doctor) may lead her!
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Post by NotSeen »

Well, we're definitely not in Kansas any more. But so far, I'm enjoying the ride.
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Post by RopeBunny »

NotSeen wrote: 3 years ago Well, we're definitely not in Kansas any more. But so far, I'm enjoying the ride.
Not quite the right movie, but the point is the same :D This is, purposefully, going to be the weirdest TUG story I've ever written. Has to be given how strange my inspiration is ;)

Thanks too tickletied84 and Dpsiic for joining me, again.

[mention]Risperdaltied[/mention] just giving you a ping here, should this latest offering of mine be of interest? Consider this my reaching out as per your request :D
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Post by NotSeen »

RopeBunny wrote: 3 years ago Not quite the right movie, but the point is the same :D
If you don't mind me asking - what would be the right movie?
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Post by Caesar73 »

I do not recognize the movie, but this story is fascinating nevertheless - the conversation between Jude and the Squirrel was most entertaining 😀
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Post by RopeBunny »

NotSeen wrote: 3 years ago
RopeBunny wrote: 3 years ago Not quite the right movie, but the point is the same :D
If you don't mind me asking - what would be the right movie?
I don't mind. The next chapter (should be up by the weekend) will, I hope, drop a big enough clue anyway when Jude goes down the rabbit hole.

The movie/book in question is Alice in Wonderland.

But as I mentioned at the beginning, I'm only using the story for inspiration. This won't be Alice but with TUGs. If the Mad Hatter exists he won't be called the Mad Hatter, and he certainly won't be hosting a tea party.

[mention]Caesar73[/mention] thanks, I had lots of fun writing that part.
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003.

I spend a week doubting myself. Seven days trying to figure out how I could've bound my own wrists.

And then I meet Coco.

It's a beautiful morning. The sky above an ocean of purest blue, unspoiled by even a single exhaust contrail. We're not allowed shorts, not even the staff, which seems quite mad. Ha. The closest I can get to dressing down is a white vest top in place of a tee, which I have to pair with my baggy grey inmate joggers since there are no other options. At least most of the windows are open wide. But, it's still too hot, so I decide to step outside in search of shade.

With a handful of exceptions we're all allowed out of the building, which resembles a large grey bricked three story office with four metal sided long low warehouse looking additions built around it. Everything is connected by glass and brick corridors, which makes crossing between buildings fun. Of course the bars on every window, not to mention the reinforced nature of every door, make Hidden Hills true purpose obvious. Not to mention the twin thirty foot high fences surrounding the perimeter, spaced apart to allow for a section of no man's land between them.

Apparently, once, according to our own inmate whispered legend, a lone girl did escape. Unfortunately though, depending on the teller, there are a half dozen different versions how she managed it. Whilst I've no desire to escape, where would I even go? I've listened politely to every variation of the tale, from the normal yet impossible 'she just walked out of the front gates' to the crazy and equally impossible 'she simply vanished.'

The grounds aren't huge, and are, a small hilly tree filled area aside, made up of grassy fields. I head for the trees, and the promise of shade.

"Nope." Almost at the treeline, and another inmate emerges. Walking towards me, shaking her head. "Nope." She repeats. "No no no. Not now. Not ever." Having walked past me, muttering, she then calls out to my back. "Hey."
"Yes?" I turn, stopping. I smile, she frowns back, shaking her head. "There's a spider." Jabbing a finger at the small copse. "In there."
"Truly?"
"I saw it." Nodding, taking a step towards me, she then shakes her head, and takes three steps back. "Warned you." Wagging a finger at me. "You go in there...."

I wait. But it seems she's run out of steam, instead she just stands, facing both me and the copse behind me, wagging her finger silently at us both. "Well. Um." I nod, giving her a thumbs up. "Thanks. For the warning. But. I'm going to go and...."
"Spider."
"Yes." I nod. "I'll remember."

She drops her arm, but doesn't move, not back to the, for her I guess, perceived safety of the buildings, nor does she approach. "Okay then." I smile, giving her a small wave. "Bye." Turning around, I continue toward the trees.

I'm not afraid of spiders.

It's noticeably cooler under the patchy canopy, there's still no wind, but the shade does what shade does, and I feel better. Not really sure what it is I want to do here, my only plan was to escape the sunlight and heat, I wander. For awhile I'm content to walk slow circles of the trees, from one to the next, then to the one over on the left. No pattern, no forethought. Just walking. I lose myself in a half daze of even regular paced corners, letting my mind drift.

Until a shadow in my path, a darker patch of ground, stirs me back towards consciousness. So I stop, and blink as I look properly.

"Oh." Not afraid. But. "Wow." Nodding. "Now that's a spider."

Stood hunched, legs splayed wide, body low to the ground, the spider is roughly equal in size to a German Shepherd. Its whole self is covered in short black hairs like a tarantula, whilst four eyes stare unblinking at me, a pale green which I imagine would glow gently once the sun goes down.

"And here you are." Accompanied by a nod, the voice is female, the accent soft and almost Russian sounding.

"I'm sorry?"
"You are?"
"Oh." I think. Why am I sorry. Shaking my head I start again.

"Good morning."
"And to you." A slight bow, the front legs lowering as the head dips. And then back up to regard me again. "I was just saying, here you are."
"Well. Yes." I look around. "Should I be anywhere else?"
"We'll get to that."
"We will?"
"Yes." A pause. "First though, may I please know your name?"
"I'm Jude."
"Jude?" Definitely posed as a question. I nod, the spider shakes her head. "As you wish. My name, is Dakvishlcocodl."
"That's. But."
"I haven't finished."
"Oh. Sorry." I make a sweeping gesture, giving her the floor. "Please."

"I am Dakvishlcocodl. The four hundred twenty-fourth to bare that name. Shadow Spinner and Hole Diver. Wraith spider of the Whispering woods tribe. Friend to rabbits." She pauses. Smiles. Do spiders smile? "Eater of rabbits."
"Wow." I think. "Can I call you Coco?"
"Coco?" Muttered, almost spat back at me. "You would reduce my name to. Coco?"
"Well. You see. Dakervinsh...."
"Dakvishlcocodl."
"Yes." I try again. "Draklinvishercoc...."
"Coco."
"Really?"
"Yes." A shake of the head. "Otherwise I fear we will be here until dark."

"Are we really talking?" I ask, pinching my arm. "Only, you're the second interesting animal I've met." I shrug. "Unless I haven't."
"Ah. Yes. The Admiral."
"You mean I wasn't all a dream."
"No." A shake of her head. "Admiral Nay is many things. But he is."
Is what?"
"He just is."
"Oh."

"The Admiral examined me."
"Yes."
"Do you." I swallow, trying to control a sudden burst of excitement, how would a spider tie me up? "Need to examine me too?"
"No." A chuckle as the smile drops off my face. "So keen to be bound again?"
"Well. Um." I know I'm blushing. "It's just...."
"Come. Jude. Let me show you why I am here."

"A rabbit hole?" I frown. "What am I supposed to do, fall down it?"

The small copse sits on hilly ground, which makes some of the trees almost appear to be sat atop a pile of earth as the ground drops away beneath them. One such tree, which Coco leads us to, has a large dug out hole beneath it. Too big to of been dug by a single rabbit- the opening is about a metre in diameter -the hole slopes slightly downwards, the rough edges and exposed roots being quickly swallowed by darkness within a half dozen paces.

Something clicks in my head. "You dug this."
"I do not dig."
"But then...?"
"Yes. This hole is of my making."
"Why?"
"Now that you are found, it is time you were shown."
"Shown." A chill of goosebumps runs up my arms. "Shown what?"
"No." Shaking her head. "You can not be told. You can only see. You can only be shown."
"Oh." I peer into the darkness. What could possibly be down a hole except more hole?

"Trust in me. Jude." Stepping in close, putting one of her front legs around me. Her hairs, short and wiry, are ticklish. "I am Dakvishlcocodl. The four hundred twenty-fourth to bare...." She stops, shakes her head. Sighs. "I am Coco. Trust in me. And step forwards."

The hole smells of dirt, I think, hunched down, wandering carefully forwards. Just before the darkness swallows me- it has not receded as I approach, like darkness normally does, because that's the polite thing to do -I turn to look behind me. Coco nods. "We shall meet again. Jude." The spider calls out. "On the other side."
"The other side of...." I begin to reply, still stepping forwards, no longer looking where I'm going.

And then I fall.

Except. Somehow. I fall upwards.
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Post by NotSeen »

A black spider with a Russian accent? Natasha Romanoff (aka Black Widow, she of the Avengers of fame) would approve :)

Sorry, couldn't resist. A fine continuation!
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Post by RopeBunny »

NotSeen wrote: 3 years ago A black spider with a Russian accent? Natasha Romanoff (aka Black Widow, she of the Avengers of fame) would approve :)
:lol: Honestly, I never saw the connection, despite being quite the comic book fan.
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Post by RopeBunny »

004.

"Wow." The impossible upwards fall had been fast, ending with a bump as I was spat out onto grassy muddy ground. Smiling like a child fresh off a roller coaster, I stand up. And look.

The smile falls, replaced by an open mouthed gasp as I see.

The sky is normal enough. Pale blue, not a cloud in sight. The sun must be behind me as all I can see hanging up there is a pale white full moon. It's the woodland that's different. It looks like some cross between a rainforest and something ancient, something alien. It looks the way a woodland would if it remained untouched by people. An explosion of colour reaches skyward, leaves of green are joined by dark blues and pinks, oranges and reds. Further away I see purples and blacks too, the whole pallete represented. The trees grow with no order, trunks of dark and light brown cross and rub against those of white. On the ground fallen trees are covered in vines or braken. Were I not stood in a clearing I'd have trouble even seeing the sky.

Curious about the rest of my surroundings, I turn around.

"Fuck." Very unladylike. I should not of looked behind me. "Me."

There aren't many things I'm afraid of. But. One of the few is a fear of large things, but only large things I'm not aware of. To explain. Think of a huge boat. A ship. A supertanker let's say. If I see it coming, a spot on the horizon, steadily drawing near, I will happily stand on the quayside, and watch its passage, fascinated. However. If I round a blind corner, at the quay, only to suddenly find myself waterside, with said large boat making slow progress, or even sat at anchor, right there. Panic grips me, accompanied by a cold sweat, and a sudden strong urge to flee.

I clamp down on that urge now. Just about managing to not fall over backwards, though I do flinch.

There's another moon. Two other moons to be exact. One is small, maybe twice the size of the first, which I- wrongly -assumed was Earth's own, but the third fills most of the sky, with it's bottom quarter or fifth hidden by the tree canopy.

Swallowing. I take several deep breaths, opening and closing my hands, calming my racing heart. "Can't run away from a moon." I mutter, the thought actually making me giggle. Which helps.

So, where now? The ground underneath, where I came through, is solid. I stamp to check. Turning a slow circle, still flinching slightly at the moon- something that big has no place being suspended in any sky -I can't see Coco. I can't see anyone or anything except trees.

"Any help?" I ask, putting my arms out wide.

A gentle breeze, enough to tickle at the tips of my loosely worn hair, comes from the left. As it passes me the wind stirs up several loose leaves, tossing them at the woodland to my right, where most enter through a gap in the treeline.

"Thank you." I smile, setting off right.

It isn't as hot here as back at Hidden Hills. "Back on Earth." I add out loud, shaking my head. "Where is this?" But, despite the complete absence of a visible sun, it is warm.

Leaving the clearing, entering the woodland, there's no drop in light. I stop, frowning, and retreat, backing up until I'm in the clearing, then walking forwards again. I do this several times, and each time the same thing occurs. Being under the canopy is no different, from a brightness point of view, as being out in the open.

And there are no shadows. Not one. Not me, not the trees. "Can't have shadows without a sun." I muse, walking deeper into the woods, heading nowhere in particular but hopefully at least managing to maintain a straight line lest I decide to turn and go back.

After awhile, having seen nothing but trees, I decide to rest.

Not wanting to sit, I instead lean back against the nearest thick trunk. Closing my eyes, running hands through my hair, slowing my breathing, I relax. And think.

Where am I?

Shouldn't Coco be here? As I drop my arms down to my sides, wondering if prehaps I was meant to stay put and wait.

How will I get back home again?

Which, as my wrists are gently, but firmly, pulled backwards- though I don't notice -is followed by: Is Hidden Hills really all the home I have?

Why can't I remember more about my past?

I should press on, there must be someone, or something, here I'm supposed to find. Coco told me to trust her. There must be a point to being here.

Except now, I can't seem to move.

"Oh." Opening my eyes, looking down, finding myself bound to the trunk.

I've been lashed in place by vines, which, even as I attempt to walk away writhe and tighten their grip on my body. Looking down I can see them trailing away from the trunk out across the woodland floor, where they become lost amongst everything else. My legs are pinned together, my arms held at the wrists around behind the trunk. The colourful vines crisscross my entire body from ankles to neck, even forming an X around and between my breasts, squeezing and separating them.

"Um." Struggling. "Hey. Stop that." Struggling some more, fighting against the tightening vines. "Hey." Spying a vine moving, wriggling it's way upwards and around the trunk, coming back into view. "Don't you dare." I say in my most stern voice as the vine makes for my mouth. "Hey." Shouted now. "Coco. Admiral. Help. Helmmmmffppphh."

Ignoring me, as if the woodland could listen anyway, the vine wraps around my head at mouth level, forcing my jaws apart, gagging me.

All of the vines constrict to the point where I really can't move at all. I'm pinned in place. Helpless.

"What's this?" All I can move are my eyes, I can't even smile. "Bad form. What." A flash of red falls from above, becoming Admiral Nay, stood before me, shaking his head.

"Right then." Wagging his finger, but not at me. "What's all this then?" The wind sighs. "Hmm? Intruder. What." Shaking his head. "No no no. This is.... Stop that." Barked out, like an order, just as I feel more then see- the vine forced into my mouth makes moving my head impossible -something slip inside my vest top and bra. Something that wraps around my nipple, giving it a tug that feels playful enough to make everything tingle in the best possible way.

"Stop playing with the poor girl." Another barked command. As the wind sighs again I feel a second thing slip around my waist, sliding down under the elasticated waistband of my trousers and pants. My breath catches as I feel my pussy lips prodded. I've forgotten what an intimate touch, even one not from a person, feels like. I've forgotten just how good the tingles are.

"This." Pointing at me. "Is Jude." This time the wind blows directly in my face, and I swear I hear my name, spoken quietly like a sighing whisper.

But I'm not let go, not my body, nor my breast, and something is still teasingly pressed up against my pussy.

"Jude. Yes." Nodding. "Not an intruder see." More wind, Admiral Nay shakes his head. "Not your fault. No blame. Need to behave now though. Right."

Is a talking red squirrel, wearing a hat, really negotiating with the wind on my behalf?

The vines slide off, and slip out of my clothing, but my slack muscles aren't ready to take the small weight that is my body, so I slide down the trunk, winding up sat on my butt at the base, bent legs in front.

"Jude." Hopping up onto my right knee, Admiral Nay removes his hat, inspects it. "Good to see you again."
"Admiral." I smile, tipping a salute. "Quite. Yes yes. Good show." Brushing off some- invisible to me -dirt, replacing his hat, Admiral Nay returns my salute. "You made it here then?"
"Yes."
"Good good."
"Admiral?"
"Yes. Jude?"
"Where," making a show of looking around, "is here exactly?"
"Ah. Well. Thing is." A small shake of the head. "Not allowed to say."
"Let me guess," remembering, smiling despite how silly the idea is, "I can't be told, I have to see."

"Rules are rules. Jude."
"That they are. Admiral."
"Good." Nodding, as though we've just agreed on a point. "Did you...?"
"Did I. What?"
"Did you open a door then? Clever girl. What."
"Oh. Um." Door? "No. I." Shit, what was the name? "Coco helped."
"Coco?" Can a squirrel look confused? Yes. And it's super cute. "Oh." I laugh. "Sorry. Um. Drakinving.... Um. Dakvococo.... The. Um," scratching my head, "four hundredth."
"Dakvishlcocodl."
"Yes." Nodding, Admiral Nay nods back. "She found me a hole."

"Did she now." Tutting. "Should've known." Wagging his finger at me. "Thought she was helping no doubt. Bloody hole divers. Meddlesome lot. No respect for the rules. Spiders are not to be trusted. Jude."
"They aren't? But."
"But what?"
"Well. She told me I had to be shown. To see, just like you said." I gesture around me. "And now I have."
"Hmm." Tapping his foot on my knee. "Bloody spiders." Muttered. "Very well. Jude. Next time use a door though. Find a way through. Understand?"
"Not really."
"You will."

Hopping off my knee, Admiral Nay gestures me to stand. "Send the girl home then."
"Excuse me," I start, just as the wind sighs between us, "but. Who are you talking too?"
"Not a who young lady. A what."
"Yes of course. What are you talking to. Please."
"Trees."
"But." I half smile. "Trees don't talk Admiral."
"Not if you don't listen."

The wind, the trees apparently, sigh again. I can just about make out the word 'home' in amongst others. All whispered.

I open my mouth to ask, something, but a hole opens up directly underneath me, and I fall down into the darkness.

"Find a door. Jude." Admiral Nay calls out after me. "You must find your own way back here. Those are the r...."

But the earth closes back up, cutting him off. Still, I already knew the word.
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Post by tickletied84 »

Oh those wicked teasing vines. Jude is getting more and more confused - but will she follow the rules?!
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005.

You would think, surely, that I'd wind up back in the copse. You would think that, despite the distance I walked, prehaps that strange woodland and the copse at Hidden Hills are somehow connected.

I thought those things anyway.

But I'm very clearly wrong. Because the- apparently talking -trees, from the world or realm, or whatever place. That I still don't know the name of. Let alone how does one open a door from here to there? The hole those trees dropped me into spits me out on the wrong side of Hidden Hills perimeter fence.

Stupid trees.

It's raining, the sky changed from all over blue to patchwork grey, some clouds darker then others. My left shoulder and upper leg itches, but I ignore both. I can see the main gate ahead, the road beside me leading along in front of the fence, so, wiping water from my eyes I set off walking.

Needless to say my appearance causes quite a stir.

"Hello. Um." Is about all I manage, whilst one of the two duty guards stares at me. Then his colleague looks up, clearly more awake, and notices what I'm wearing. The word Inmate visible on my now soaked trousers. All my clothes, and hair, all of me, is soaked through just from the short time I've been outside.

"Inmate." Barks the guard. "What are you doing outside of the fence?"
"Oh." I look around, then back. I smile, half tempted to tell them the truth. But they don't give me the chance.

"Hands behind you inmate."
"But I'm wet." Shaking my right leg at him. "And...."
"Hands behind you." Not giving me a chance. Whilst the second guard circles cautiously behind me, both have batons drawn, treating me like some kind of threat. Which is silly given that, even wet, I probably weigh about half as much as either one of them. I giggle.

Big mistake.

"Right then." Having tackled me from behind, bringing me down onto the floor where I was strapped and cuffed into some quite restrictive restraints, not to mention a gag for good measure. I've been stripped of my trousers and vest top too. Prehaps they needed to search me? Now I'm hauled, dressed in only a grey lace bra and thong, both wet through, back onto my feet. "Off you go." Smirking, both of them look super pleased with themselves. Both are openly eying up my body. Both managed to find reason whilst binding me to cop a feel of both breasts and pussy. One points towards the main doors now. "We'll radio ahead so you'll be expected." My butt is given a firm whack by the other, with a baton, which stings. "Mmfffppphff ffmmfpph."
"Main doors," pointing with his baton, both of them laughing as I moan, "don't make me repeat myself inmate."

The restraints start with a brown leather belt, cinched tightly around my skinny waist. Off of this sprout two chains. The first, short, leads to chunky metal cuffs that pin my wrists together behind my back. The second, longer, dangles down between my legs, where it branches off to chunky cuffs on each ankle. The shortness of this chain means all I can do is shuffle, not quite able to manage a full stride. My gag is a full head harness. A large black ball fills my mouth, stretching my jaws wide to the point of aching, whilst black leather straps run all over my head: around the sides, over the top, under my chin, all aimed at preventing my spitting the ball out.

Shuffling away from the guards I can't help but wonder at why, instead of feeling properly put in my place by all these restraints plus my lack of clothing, instead the whole situation is giving me something of a happy buzz.

This is now the third time I've been tied up, and on each occasion I've not panicked, haven't wanted desperately to be freed, have in fact, on some level I wasn't aware of until it happened, actually enjoyed it.

Does that make me weird?

"Oh for fucks sake." Remarks the female orderly, looking me up and down, shaking her head at the puddle I'm creating on the carpeted floor just inside the entrance hall. Letting go of the door, which swings closed with a satisfyingly loud boom and click, she pulls out her hand radio.

"Gate. This is ten." Listening, all I hear are crackles and static, but she shakes her head, grimacing. "Yeah, I've got her. Why is she naked?"
-crackle pop hiss-
"Don't be a dick Harry. Yes she's wearing a bra, but I can see her nipples."
-hiss-
"Fucks sake, it isn't that funny. You know shit like this is why you're never promoted."
-pop crunch crackle-
"At least tell me you checked for a name," shaking her head whilst giving me a small smile, "before strapping that massive ball in her mouth?"
-crackle pop pop hiss pop-
"Well, you're both lucky I do."
-hiss crackle-
"Just. Don't be such a pair of perves in future."
-crunch hiss crunch-
"I mean." Actually laughing. "Fine. Fine. But I won't always be able to cover for you."

"Right. Jude." Giving my body a cursory rub down with a towel. "We need to go and see the warden."
"Mmfh?"
"Yes." A small smile. "Thankfully, since this'll probably need about two dozen forms, you're his problem." Tossing the wet towel into a corner, I'm still mostly soaked, but am no longer dripping, she sets off down a corridor. "Follow me."

It takes a long time to reach the wardens office. The orderly, none of them wears a name tag, I don't know why, constantly manages to forget how slow I am, due to the leg cuffs. She's forever having to retrace her steps, tutting as she does. Twice too she has to fend off another inmates attentions. Apparently my being both near naked and helpless makes me a magnet for all the crazy ladies.

The first time a young inmate, walking towards me as I shuffle down a corridor, reaches out to casually grope my right breast as we pass each other. This on its own wouldn't matter, but she comes back and begins walking level with me, feeling me up as she keeps pace.

The second time I'm crossing a four way intersection when, as well planned as any bank robbery, two inmates appear from different directions, hoist my helpless body up between them, and with my escort already vanished around a corner and therefore oblivious, carry me off. They manage to carry me all the way to a bedroom, one of theirs most likely, and have pulled off my bra before the orderly finds us.

At some point during all of this I happen to look left, and am shocked to discover a freshly inked tattoo on my shoulder and upper arm. The artwork depicts over a dozen butterflies, in colours ranging from blacks to greens to blues, flitting all over my skin. Some large, some tiny. Around and between them nonsense looking script is swirling in tiny letters.

The orderly doesn't pull my bra back up from where it's puddled around my cuffed wrists, but for the remainder of our walk she does shadow me.

"Come." Sounds a stern male voice from through the dark wood double doors. "Well." The orderly smiles at me, winks. "Good luck." She pushes one door open, but doesn't accompany me inside.

The wardens office. Another place I've never been. Another person I prehaps should've met, but haven't. There's dark wood everywhere: bookcases, a low table flanked by two comfy looking armchairs, and a huge desk dominating the rooms centre.

And behind the desk, the warden. An older man with slicked back greying hair and a trimmed beard to match, his athletic looking figure fitted out in a dark blue suit and white shirt, topped off by a pale pink tie. Maybe he and Dr McAvoy play tennis together, I muse, as I shuffle my way into the room.

"Ah." Looking up, briefly, pointing at the space before his desk, not at either of the two chairs on my side of it. "Jude. I always wondered whether we'd actually have to meet one day."

In front of him is a laptop, open, it's screen hidden from me, and beside it a folder, closed, with my name on the front. Just the one name though, there is no surname. Shouldn't I have a surname?

"Well Jude," resting elbows on the desk, tenting and flexing his fingers as he looks up at me, "I have to say I've no clue how you managed to leave this facility, but, it's good to see you back."
"Mmffpph ffmmph."
"Indeed." Nodding, despite the fact even I don't know what I just said. "Would you care to tell me where you were?"
"Ggmmffpf mmffh fm hhffpf."
"Quite." He hasn't offered to ungag me, doesn't in fact seem to want anything by way of explanation. Am I not in trouble? Shouldn't I be?

"I don't suppose you'd like to explain your lack of clothes?"
"Ffmh mmf hhfppf mmfffhhpf fm hhffppfmmf." I even wiggle my chest at him for good measure, feeling both brave and cheeky. More amused then embarrassed right now to be up before the boss with my breasts on display. He frowns, types, flips the folder open and studies the sheets inside for a minute, then looks back up. "What about the tattoo's?"
"Mmfh?" Tattoo's? Plural? I look down, and sure enough I have a second. My eight pointed star birthmark, high up on the inside of my left leg, almost touching my pussy, is now a striking black eight pointed star tattoo. What the actual fuck? "Mmfppf ffphhmf mmf." Shaking my head, because about this I'm confused. "Mfhf mmfpp hffmpmmf."
"Hmm. Well." A shrug, for some reason my breaking out of here doesn't seem to matter. He smiles. "Since you've been gone a week I suppose you had plenty of time to get them."

"Mmfhp?" A week? I sit down before I fall down, not waiting for an invite. I was gone. Wandering through the multicoloured woodland. Getting trussed to a tree, by trees. For six hours, tops. In what screwed up universe does that equal seven days time passing back here at Hidden Hills?

For the next half hour I sit, whilst the tingle I seem to feel everytime I'm tied up comes and goes like the tide: buzzing in my nipples when I realise the warden is, quite openly, checking out my exposed breasts, making me squirm as it migrates down to my pussy, making me fidgety. I manage to drool a good amount down onto my breasts too. For all this time the warden types, mostly- perving aside -ignorning me. We certainly don't exchange any more words.

"Would you come and collect Jude." Talking into his desk phone, a mirror copy of Dr McAvoy's. "Yes. Right away."

"Well." Standing, walking around his desk to open the door. I stand too. I can tell when I'm being told to leave. "Just. Try not to escape again Jude." Giving me a firm look. "That's one phone call I never thought I'd have to make, and one I'd rather not have to make a second time."
"Mmfph?" What phone call? Who would need to be told that I was missing? But the warden shakes his head. Points out of the door.

There's an orderly waiting, so, still cuffed, still gagged, still topless, off I go.

Where, who knows.
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Post by NotSeen »

The staff in that place would be enough to drive anyone insane, if they weren't already...
I'm very interested to see just how deep this rabbit hole goes.
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Post by RopeBunny »

Still quite a long way down to go, with plenty of TUGs along the way ;) :D based on my rough draft of a story plan anyway.
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Post by RopeBunny »

006.

We shuffle to the showers, where I'm- finally -released. By the time I've soaked the rain out of my bones there are clean dry clothes waiting.

Followed by dinner, where as usual I get water to drink, despite the flavoured squashes and fizzy pops I can see others enjoying. Plus it's pie and boiled potatoes. Again. Why won't they ever make the potatoes into chips? I like chips.

I think?

The next day I'm collected from the common room, halfway through a chess game where neither of us is playing by any kind of approved rules, and taken to see Dr McAvoy.

"Come in Jude." Looking up from her tablet, already sat in the armchair. Dr McAvoy's wearing black jeans today, a skinny cut which hugs her legs. Up top a pale blue v necked tee shows off her cleavage. She nods at the orderly who escorted me here. "Thank you, Vicki, I'll see to it she gets back."
"Sure." Shrugging, apparently not bothered either way, the orderly leaves.

"Have a seat." Smiling as I cross the room and sit myself on the sofa, feeling a brief warm rush spread across my body as I remember my state the last time I sat here. "I thought," resting her tablet on one arm of her chair, "that prehaps we should have another talk. After recent events."
"Right." Wondering which of the half dozen things that have happened to me she might want to discuss. I nod. "Of course, Doctor."
"Good."

After two minutes of silence I realise Dr McAvoy is waiting for me to talk, she's sitting across from me, tablet in her lap, clasped hands resting atop it, giving me her best warm smile. I smile back, deciding- why not -that I won't talk until she does. It's fun to play.

The silence stretches out for a further five minutes.

"Tell me about your tattoo. Jude."
"My." Looking first at my shoulder, then down at my crotch. Dr McAvoy clocks my shifting gaze. "You've more then one?"
"Oh." I nod, rubbing at where my birthmark, now my second tattoo, sits beneath my baggy trousers. "My star is a tattoo too."
"Is it now?"
"Yes."
"And what do they both mean then," tap tap tap, again she's taking notes, "to you?"
"Well. Um." Nope, it feels lame to say aloud, but, the truth is. "I don't know."
"No reason for getting them? No special inspiration behind the butterflies?"
"No."

"Your birthmark," pointing, "I've been doing some research."
"You have?"
"Yes." Nodding, smiling. "Would you like to know some of the things I've found?"
"Please."
"Well." Glancing at her tablet. "An eight pointed star can mean or be lots of things. But, Jude, the one I find most interesting is that some call it a Chaos star."
"Chaos?"
"Yes. It's meaning has, in part, to do with infinite possibilities."
"You mean like anything's possible?"
"Yes."
"Even." I can't help but smile. "Even a talking squirrel?"

Tap tap tap. "Interesting."
"What?"
"It's interesting that your first thought was of the squirrel."
"Admiral Nay."
"Yes." Flicking at her screen. "I see that was his name. Have you seen him again?"
"Yes." Not giving any thought to how crazy I'm sounding. Why would I? Having been to what I must assume is the Admiral's home, I no longer doubt his existence. "I met Coco too."

"Coco?" Tap tap. "The Admiral has a friend?"
"Well." I giggle, remembering his exact thoughts on spiders. "I'm not sure they're friends. But she helped me."
"Helped you how?" Looking up. "Did Coco tattoo you?"
"No." I giggle again, this time at the image my brain offers of a spider tattooist. "Coco's a spider."
"A spider and a squirrel?"
"Yes. But Coco isn't her real name. I can't say her real name, so I made up Coco."
"I see." Tap tap tap. "So, do you remember where you got the tattoo's?"
"No."

Dr McAvoy shakes her head, and I barely hear a muttered. "Fucking water." As she frowns, tapping some more. Then she breathes, smiles.

"Do you remember anything about the week you've been away, Jude?"
"Um." I remember plenty. For a start I remember that it was only hours, not days. Not a week. But, what can I say without sounding like someone who actually belongs in Hidden Hills? What can I tell Dr McAvoy about my trip to the woodland with three moons that won't land me in serious trouble. The kind that will, possibly, end up with me strapped to the bed every night. "Well." Stalling, then, looking down at the sofa, remembering, I have an idea. I grin. "I got tied up again."

"By Admiral Nay?" Not missing a beat, not even apparently surprised. Dr McAvoy gives me an almost teasing smile. "Were you tied up all week Jude?"
"No." Shaking my head, but smiling back. Dr McAvoy puts her tablet down, still smiling, her tone still borderline teasing. "So, not an escape, more of an abduction by squirrel and spider?"
"Well." I giggle. "Coco did help me leave."
"Ah." Tap tap, briefly, since it's still resting on the chairs arm. "So it was Coco who tied you up this time?"
"No. It was." I really don't want to say that the trees tied me up. I'm not sure why this is where I'm drawing the line, but I am. I shake my head, and tell a half truth. "I didn't see."

"No?" Tap tap. "Okay. Jude." A shrug, like it's no big deal. Does she know I'm lying? Does it matter if she, most likely, thinks I'm making the whole thing up anyway? Dr McAvoy smiles. "Well, can you tell me how you were tied up this time?"

"I was." Thinking, how do I describe being semi mummified by vines to a tree, being gagged by one of the vines. "Um." Looking around, maybe if there was a handy post in her office I could show her. "Maybe I could show you?"

"You want me to tie you up again?" The, definitely teasing, smile, is back. "Is it easier to show me then tell me, Jude?"
"Yes." I'm starting to get nervous butterflies. Last time I was already partly tied before Dr McAvoy stepped in. Last time I didn't ask her to help. "Only." Like with the silence, I decide, on the fly, to play. To see what I can make happen here. I grin. "We're going to need a tree. And lots of rope."
"You mean," standing, crossing the room, Dr McAvoy opens up the second drawer from the bottom of her file cabinet, out manoeuvring me with a smile, and a wink, "like this." From the drawer she pulls out a thick bundle of off white rope.

"Fuck." My mouth is on the floor, allowing the butterflies and tingles of nervous excitement to race from my pussy straight up and out, stopping to ding each nipple as they pass, lighting me up. "Wow." I laugh, nervous. "Where...."
"A good doctor is always prepared."
"Oh."

The rope gets dumped in a carrier bag, and together we walk, me leading the way, outside, to the copse. The only place on site where we'll find a tree.

"Lunch time." Checking her phone whilst I eye up potential trees, trying to ignore my pounding heart and resurfacing nerves. I'm about to be tied up. Again. "Do you want to go inside and eat, Jude?" Shaking her head. "Shouldn't miss meals."
"No thank you."
"You'll get hungry."
"I won't." Shaking my head. My body is so used these days to surviving on so little, I could probably skip a whole day and not notice.

"Won't we get in trouble?" I glance at the building, not far away, but not close by anymore either. "For being out here?"
"No." Pulling an ID card attached to a blood red lanyard from her back pocket. "This is my," grinning, "do whatever I want card."
"And you want to...?" Am I teasing her back?

Dr McAvoy smiles, making a show of putting her lanyard on, before bending to retrieve her rope from the grassy floor dumped bag. "I want to tie you up, Jude." Pointing at a tree out of sight of the building. "To that tree. If you'll tell me how it was done."

"Well." To my patchy and sluggish brain it definitely feels as though we're, on some level, flirting. This, none of this whole tying me up thing, feels like any kind of therapy or research. It feels as though we're playing a game, one where like chess earlier I don't know the rules. But just like the chess game I'm going to try and win.

Thrust. Grin. "I was tied up naked."

"I see. Well then," parry, smile, jab, "you'd better strip."

"Well." Dodge. "The people who tied me up were naked too, Doctor." Slash.

"Are you sure, Jude?" Block. Smile. "Because," thrust, "in my office I recall you saying you didn't see who tied you up." Strike.

"Oh." Finish her.

"Here," holding out a hand, "I'll take your clothes." Fatality.

At least it's a warm day. And dry, no summer showers. Naked, all my clothes placed into the bag, I'm still nervous, but it's the good nerves. The kind that make my whole body tingle, especially with Dr McAvoy smiling at me.

"So." Gently pushing me back against the trunk. "For, um, research." A smile, a small shake of her head, further proof that I'm right. "Let's get you tied up."
"Sure." Now comes the fun part. I'm still unsure why being tied up is counted as fun, I just know the sensations of rope or vines, or shoelaces, pinching my skin feels good, as does the feeling of helplessness when the binding is done each time. I put my hands around behind the trunk. "Well, Doctor, my wrists were tied behind the trunk."
"Right." Nodding, walking around behind the tree. "Now then," making me squirm in anticipation as I feel rope looping my wrists, "let's see if I can get this tight enough."

She only has the one piece of rope, but it's really long. Like mountain climbing long. "Was that it?" Walking back around in front of me, coiled and bunched rope held in one hand, spilling out to puddle on the floor. "Seems like I bought too much rope."
"No." Shaking my head, Dr McAvoy's stood quite close, making me very aware of my exposed breasts, erect nipples pointing at her as though locked on. "They, um." My nerves, my excitement, is making talking difficult. I swallow. "You have to loop it around me, like a criss cross."
"Is that what they did?" Teasing. Of course she thinks, knows, I'm fibbing about some of this. But then I doubt she's actually allowed to bring me out here and lash me naked to a tree. Even for therapy. We're both either lying or overstepping boundaries to some degree.

I nod. "Yes. And. Um." My body shivers with adrenaline as I take a plunge. "And they used some to gag me too."
"Gagged too?" A raised eyebrow, a brief flick of her gaze down my skinny underfed nakedness. The quirk of a smile. "However will I know what happened next though, once you can't talk?"
"I'm sure you'll think of something to do with me." Said without thinking, I blush a deep red as the implications of my words sink it.

Dr McAvoy laughs, but not harshly, a happy sound that makes me shiver again. Then she ties me up.

Having used one end to bind my wrists, tightly held crossed in place on the other side of the trunk from my body, Dr McAvoy could simply walk laps around the tree, spooling out the rope as she does, wrapping me up. Instead, with a smile, knowing exactly what she's doing, she steps in very close- close enough that various parts of her: face, breasts, and of course hands, are at times brushing against my pointing nipples- and stays there, using stretched arms left and right. Leaning forwards to pass the rope around my body. She kneels first, working from butt level wrists down to my ankles, then stands as she comes back up to my neck. The rope crisscrosses my body, and she makes sure to yank it tight every other pass, pinching my skin, pushing my back and butt against the rough bark.

She can't tie any knots- I think -but somehow manages to keep the rope tight anyway.

"Open wide." Another smile, stood face to face with me, wrapping the rope three times around my head and the trunk, using it to gag me.

"Mmffhhpf."
"Tight enough then?" Not stepping back, her whole- clothed -body still very close to my naked trussed one. "Is this accurate, Jude?"
"Mfpf ppffmmf mmm ffpffdmm."
"Uh huh." Tugging on the rope directly underneath my right breast, one of several that squeezes and seperates them. "Well." Her hand wanders higher, fingers brushing at my nipple. "I wonder what happened next?"
"Mmfpp hhfm." I know, right now, what I want to happen next. My nipple, when she touched it, sent such a strong jolt through my body, straight down to my now damp pussy. "Mmffpp mmfphff ffmmpfhf ffmpfhhf." I moan again, squirming, trying to bounce my breasts, wishing for a brief moment that I weren't tied up, or that Dr McAvoy were trussed instead.

I have a sudden, huge, urge. I really really want to see Dr McAvoy naked.

Or topless at least.

Grinning, apparently as lost in the moment as me, Dr McAvoy licks her lips, then takes my breast in hand, gently squeezing it as she brings her head down, tongue flicking out to lick at my nipple.

"Mmmmmfffppfhmmm." I moan, my whole body feeling like jelly as her other hand finds my pussy, pressing gently but firmly against my lips in echo of the vine back in the three moon woodland.

The moment seems to stretch, time slows down. My whole body is singing.

And then a door bangs closed.

I blink, finding Dr McAvoy suddenly a safe two metres away, a half guilty half teasing smile on her pretty young face. "We'd, um." Biting her lip, running a hand through her blonde hair. She shakes her head. "I'd better get you back to the common room, Jude."
tickletied84
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Post by tickletied84 »

Ooh, we've now got a naughty doctor to throw into the mix - realities colliding for Jude. Wonderfully written update [mention]RopeBunny[/mention] :D
NotSeen
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Post by NotSeen »

If Jude wasn't already off her pretty little rocker, well, Dr McAvoy isn't necessarily helping her any with that. Then again, is Jude really, well, crazy? And are her 'wardens' sane?
Mortal Kombat reference, nice!
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Post by Caesar73 »

Tone and setting of this story? I like them very much - and very well written:)
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RopeBunny
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Post by RopeBunny »

NotSeen wrote: 3 years ago is Jude really, well, crazy?
A good question :D Being crazy would certainly be an easy explanation for Admiral Nay. But. If she isn't, then why is she in Hidden Hills?

Answers, of course, are coming ;)

Thanks all for the comments. Glad the Mortal Kombat/fight scene played out well.
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Post by RopeBunny »

007.

I find the door completely by accident.

It's a wet day. On wet days none of us are allowed outside, the decision taken away by the locking of any and all means of exiting the building. I'm feeling restless, fidgety. I don't want to sit in the common room and play games. Don't want to watch whatever happens to be tuned in on the wall mounted cage covered flatscreen.

Unable to sit still I wind up wandering the corridors, lap after lap, upstairs then down.

As I wander I'm paying near zero attention to my surroundings. If the lights hadn't flickered I wouldn't even of seen.

I'm up on the top floor, in the roof. Up here it's small, just one continous four cornered corridor that begins and ends at the same flight of stairs. Having done three laps and seen nobody, I'm halfway around a forth when the ceiling lights flicker, then go dark with an audible clunk.

As they do my leg tattoo tingles, briefly.

"Oh?" Stopping, reaching down inside my baggy grey joggers to scratch my Chaos star, I look around just as a rumble of thunder sounds in the distance. Behind me. In front of me. Both directions are equally dark. But off to the left is a dim glow.

Light is leaking from around a closed door, from the gap between door and frame. It looks, impossibly, like sunlight.

The overhead lights flicker, followed several seconds later by another rumble.

"Spooky." I whisper, which makes me giggle. The whole moment seems weighted, the lights going out, the light behind the door showing me the way. "Might as well be a 'this way, silly' sign too." I mutter, having another little giggle.

Reaching out, I touch the handle, the slight tingle, like a small electric charge, that runs from the metal to my hand, up my arm, doesn't make me let go. Instead I smile, pull the handle down, and push.

"Hah." Shaking my head, not that I'd really been looking, but. "Found you."

Fresh air gusts gently through the door, beyond which is a woodland scene, the same crazily coloured woodland I reached falling down, or should that be up, Coco's hole. What should be here, what room? The door wasn't marked by either sign or number. It was probably locked too.

Did my tattoo do this? Create a door through to the woodland, and unlock it? How?

The only real question though is. "Do I want to go through?"

Standing on the threshold, I can see two of the moons, which means big and scary is either currently missing from the sky taking a turn diving down underneath whatever world this is, or behind me. I turn around fast at the thought, laughing when all I see is the corridor, the part of Hidden Hills, the part of what I guess most would call the real world, that I'm still half stood in. "Silly girl." Shaking my head.

If I step through can I return, either through this or some other door?

Do I care if the answer turns out to be no? I'll admit to the beginnings of, something, that I'm feeling towards Dr McAvoy. I think I'd miss her, if I wind up lost in the woodland. Would she miss me? It's been several days since our second meeting, and I've not seen her, haven't been escorted to her office.

I guess the whole Doctor/inmate thing means we couldn't anyway.

I smile. Of course I'm going in. "Got to find out how deep all this craziness goes." I tell myself, nodding, stepping through.

It's warm on the other side, which is lucky since I'm not wearing anything over my baggy white tee. No clearing this time, I'm deep in the woodland. The blue sky, again there are no clouds, is only visible due to the door being on a path, which means a snaking break in the close multicoloured canopy.

Taking a breath, steeling myself, muttering. "It's just a moon. Only a moon." I slowly turn around.

And let my breath out. Only the tip of big and scary number three is visible above the treeline, slightly behind and off to one side.

First I do the obvious thing. I examine the door.

Still on it's painted but chipped black frame, the door sits open in the middle of the path. It looks like some form of bizarre modern art, through which I can still see the corridor at Hidden Hills.

Walking around behind the door, it doesn't disappear, but now all I can see through the opening is the woodland. I'm, technically, stood inside Hidden Hills now, based on which side of the door I'm on. Shaking my head, because the logic of all this is beyond me, I walk back around to the front.

Only to find an orderly peering through the door at me.

"Oh. Um."
"Inmate?" Mouth working, stood on the edge of the Hidden Hills side, her eyes roaming everywhere, going wide. Quickly, without taking the time to think about being stuck, or what might happen if I do return, I step forwards, and slam the door.

I count to ten, then open the door. "Well, of course." Nodding, expecting nothing less. All I can see through the doorway now is more woodland.

"So." Looking. "Do I go left?" The path, largely straight, disappears eventually as it cuts a route through the woodland. "Or right?" The path, largely straight, disappears eventually as it cuts a route through the woodland. "Hmm." Thinking, turning a slow circle. Nothing but trees everywhere.

Trees.

"Um." Staying very still, very quiet. Listening. "Hi." I wave at the nearest tree, then giggle. "Sorry. Um. I'm Jude."
"Juuuuuuude." On the wind that gusts in my face, barely above a whisper. "Knooooow yoooooou."
"Yes." Blushing, two of those vines knew me quite intimately indeed. "I need help."
"Waaaaant. Go hoooome."
"No." Giving the door a pat, taking two clear steps away from it. "I want to find someone."
"Aaaad miiiiiirallll."
"Oh." About to agree, but, all he'll do is, again, refuse me any answers. "I have to see," doing my best gruff old man's voice, "I can't be told."
"Whaaaaaat."
"Sorry." Clamping a hand over my mouth, stifling a giggle. "Um. No." Shaking my head. "I want to find...." Waving my arm. How do I explain?

"Waaaaant. Truuuuth." Clever trees. I smile. "Yes." Nodding. "Truth. I'd like to see, to find, new things. Please."

Silence. The wind gusts back and forth for some time. Talking, but no longer to me. I wait.

"Thiiiiiis waaay." Leaves, tossed up into the air, blown off to the left. "Yooooou willlll. Seeeeeeeee."
"Thank you."
"Welllllcommme. Juuuuude."

Eventually the path opens out into a clearing, which isn't empty.

In the middle sits a simple dark wood with black metal frame rectangular table, and sat at the table, on dark wooden stools, are two tiny men.

The two are identical. About three foot tall, skinny limbed with a slight belly apparent beneath buttoned dark blue pinstripe suits. Light blue shirts, worn with knotted yellow ties, are visible beneath the jacket, and on each little man's feet are chunky black lace up boots. Messy blonde hair sits atop each head, and both have skin as white as a well washed sheet.

As I stand, watching them, they appear to be working. Or miming working to be more accurate. They hold up invisible paper, passing sheets back and forth. They write with invisible pens. They're both very busy.

"Excuse me." I cough, politely. "Hello."
"A girl." Spoken with a thick Scottish accent, nudging his twin. "What?" Of course the other speaks with the exact same voice. Putting down his- invisible -paper, he looks up. "Well well." Nodding. "And not just any girl, is it Mr Banker."
"Not just any girl Mr Banker." Nodding. Peering at me as though through a fog. "Yes yes." Waving me forward. "Come in girl. Come in."
"In?" Looking around. Into the clearing do they mean? "Thank you," nodding, stepping forwards, "can I ask wh...."

"Whoa. Whoa." Both of them, looking alarmed, holding up hands to stop me in my tracks. "Through the door please."
"Door?" For one confused moment I imagine they want me to go back, all the way back to the door I came in through. But one of them points to a patch of nothing six feet to my right. "The door, please." They both chuckle. "Dear me, can't have people thinking windows are doors can we Mr Banker."
"Can't have that at all Mr Banker."

Giving all the clearly empty air and space around me a dubious look, stepping to the side, I shrug. "Um."
"Come in girl," waving me forwards again, "it isn't locked."
"Oh." Knowing what's expected, even if it feels silly, I reach forward, mime pulling down on a handle, pushing open a door, and step in.

"Hello." Stood at the table, on the opposite side to them, I hold out my hand. Which is peered at, with a look somewhere between confusion and mistrust. Prodded. And sniffed, but from a safe distance. Lastly, one of them picks up something from the table, turns my hand over so the spread palm is facing away from him, and mimes stamping it. "Oh." I felt the stamp impact with my skin, and, when I retract my hand, find the words 'PENDING APPROVAL' stamped on the back of my left hand, in red ink surrounded by a red rectangular border.

"Is this like a game?"
"Game?" A snort of amusement. "No," spreading his arms wide as though displaying all the- invisible -papers, "this is work."
"But." I try closing one eye, and squinting. But there's still nothing there. "What work?"
"We're the Bankers."
"Bankers? Like, with money?"
"No." Both shake their heads in perfect unison. "We keep everything running smoothly."
"We keep order here."
"You do?" Looking around me, at the explosion of colour on the trees. At the, count them, three moons in the sky. "But." I gesture at what I see as the complete opposite. "What order?"

"Do you see any clouds up there in the sky?"
"Well...."

"Have you been attacked and eaten by any wild rabbits?"
"Um. But shouldn't...."

"Are you, right now, stood on the ground?"
"Now that's just...."

"Exactly." Both nod. Point apparently made. I huff, stupid crazy logic. "Fine." Shaking my head. "What happens now, can you help me?"

"A question."
"Really?" Smiling. Finally. "Um." Which of the several dozen floating around my head should I ask? "Can you tell m...."
"No no no." Both wagging fingers at me. "We ask. You answer."
"But I don't know anything."
"You don't know who we are?"
"Well." Stupid logic. "Of course that." Both are looking expectantly at me. Honestly. "You're the bankers."
"Clever girl." Clapping. "A wrong answer carries consequences though."
"What consequences?"
"No no no." Two sets of wagging fingers again. "Right." A huff, a shake of my head, but I smile. "You ask. I answer."

"What's your name?"
"Jude."
"Oh dear." Two small heads shake. "Not good Mr Banker."
"Not good indeed Mr Banker."
"But I am." Aren't I? It says so on my door.

And yet, everybody I've met recently is surprised when I insist my name is Jude. What do they know that I don't?

"We'll be needing your clothes."
"Really?" Flinching slightly as the question leaves my mouth, but apparently we're all done, I'm not reprimanded. "Yes yes." Pointing to a patch of grassy floor beside the table. "Clothes placed in the bin there."
"All of my clothes?"

Which earns me twin frowns, after which they form a small huddle, whispering and muttering.

"You can keep your shoes on."
"My shoes?"
"Yes."
"But."
"No need to thank us."

I feel silly, standing before the desk wearing only my dirty white trainers and grey ankle socks. Seeing no point in trying to cover up I don't try. The Bankers have returned to their- still invisible -paperwork, and seem no longer interested in me. And from out of nowhere I feel myself getting cross. Cross that everyone seems to know more then me, but nobody will help, nobody will share anything with me about what is, really, my life.

"Listen now." Sweeping both hands across the table. "I'm not a crazy person, and I don't mean to be rude, but is it really against some bunch of rules for just one of you to actually help me?"
"Well." Looking from me to the floor, where the imagined or real- who knows -stack of papers now lays scattered. "I've got to say. Jude. That you certainly seem crazy. Wouldn't you say so Mr Banker?"
"Crazy indeed," nodding, "Mr Banker."
"But I'm not..." Looking at each of them, at the invisible papers, then down at myself, naked save for my shoes.

And just like that I'm laughing.

"Come and lay down Jude." Patting the table. "We can at least show you."
"Ha." Shaking my head, but I climb up onto the table, laying down on my back. "Of course, too much to hope for a straight answer in this place."
"No such thing as a straight answer, isn't that right Mr Banker."
"Too many trees Mr Banker."
"Oh for...." Breathe. I close my eyes. This whole thing, from Admiral Nay to now, has been like fumbling in the dark. Walking blind with no clue what's expected of me, just doing my best to keep up and go or do whatever seems right, hoping that, in the end, I'll find out the point.

I don't even realise I've been tied up. Didn't even register- again, because it's happened before with the trees so prehaps I should've learned by now to pay attention -the slow but purposeful tugging at each limb in turn. Nor did I recognise the pinch at each limb, wrist or ankle, for what it was.

"Well then. Jude." Opening my eyes, at the same time trying to sit up, finding out I can't due to now being tied up like a splayed out specimen ready for examination. I look left, then right, finding them both stood beside me, smiling. "This is the best we can do for you."
"How is tying me naked to the table helping?"
"Naked she says." Both of them laugh, smiling as I squirm. Not that I'm able to move much. "Naked. When she's wearing shoes."
"But the shoes don't cover m...."
"All signed and ready," handing something, maybe a sheet of paper, to his twin, "Mr Banker."
"All ready and signed Mr Banker."

This time there's no hole, no drop, this time the woodland, both Mr Bankers, the impossible three moon sky. This time it all just bleeds, the colours running and changing as my surroundings shift, taking me from there to here. To a large room. A room I've never seen before.

On the wall is a portrait, a very well done oil painting, of a man and a lady. She looks just like me.
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