Page 26 of Madness

“Come on then,” I chirp, falling into step with the guard as we walk up to the warden’s office for my weekly visit.

Each step feels like a ritual, a dance I have perfected over countless visits with him.

The group session from earlier still whirls around in my mind. The question of who we are is nearly enough to send me into a spiral about my existence.

I am a daughter and a sister, but I was betrayed by them when I showed my true self; now I’m standoffish, and I’m slowly slipping away from the things that have happened to me in Wonderland.

The twisty hallways are second nature to me now.

They have been since I was a child, and I find myself ahead of the guard sent to escort me and in front of the warden’s office before I have time to finish my thoughts.

Schooling my features, I raise my fist and rap my knuckles against the thick wooden door.

I like games, I like playing them, and I like the rush that comes when I’m seconds away from winning.

In this room, there is no rush of a win, and the only games we play are the only ones I have ever wanted to win the most.

My life depends on it.

“Come in!” his rough voice calls, and I take one last fortifying breath to brace myself.

His office is darkened by the blinds being closed even though it is only four in the evening. His looming figure sits in his desk chair, his legsspread, and I salivate at the sight of his chest, the top three buttons of his shirt undone.

His black hair is styled perfectly. The fade at the sides needs a slight trim, but he still somehow looks perfect after a long day running this place.

“Hello, my love,” he smiles, showing off his perfect pearly whites, and I can’t help the upturn of my lips, my heart fluttering in my chest.

His presence, his voice, everything about him is magnetic, and I happily fall into the trap he sets every visit – playing willingly even when I have never won.

“Hello Wocky.”

“Come here.” He demands, pointing to the space between his thighs, and I oblige, not paying attention to the guard who escorted me here, clicking and locking the door shut.

Pausing on the spot he pointed out, I suppress a shiver as his hands glide up the back of my thighs, grazing the bottom of my ass.

“No panties today, my love?” he asks, but I hear the amusement in his voice.

“Why waste time?”

“Why take away my fun? You know I like to rip them from you when I start our little escapades,” he growls.

The red and black chess board sits on his desk, the pieces in front of us still in the same positions from last week’s visit.

I see that the queen has been toppled over, and I glance a questioning look to Jameson, whoshrugs, “You knocked it over just as we finished playing. I liked having the memory of what I did to you after all week sitting there,” he says, kissing my shoulder.

“Dirty.” I laugh.

His hand tangles in my hair, tugging my mouth down to his, and fuses our lips together, “Has my other favourite patient been to visit you this week?” he asks when we finally pull away from one another.

I expect to see jealousy in his vibrant golden eyes but only see lust flaring as his pupils practically blow, eclipsing his irises.

“He has,” I purr, running my hand through his hair.

My lack of panties lets me feel exactly how wet I am for what’s to come, and I can’t fucking wait.

The games here may be crucial for my survival, but playing the games with Jameson is a bonus.

“And did he take care of you?” he asks, running his rough hand up my thigh and caressing my forbidden hole.

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