I can barely remember when my life was normal, when I had a life outside the asylum- I mean - "St. Carroll's Women's Institute". Calling it ‘The Asylum’ isn't allowed among guests and I don't want any more demerits.

Where was I? Oh! My life before the institute. Before coming here, I was raised mostly by my mother and older sister, but I must have been a very bad girl to end up here, but I didn't believe it for the longest time. I fought and shouted at the staff, trying to convince them I didn't belong. I earned a number of demerits, spending many hours wearing nothing but a rubber straitjacket and gagged. Even then, I was often made to sit on the sybian until I was passed the point of tears, having my nipples or pussy clamped.

But I wasn't the only guest at this place. I have... well, I wouldn't call them friends, but they do all seem to enjoy the same thing: me. No matter how well I behave, or made sure to stay on their good sides.

First there's Penny. She said she was named that for her copper hair and good luck, but I'm not so sure that's true. She was my roommate and the first guest I met and we definitely started off on the wrong foot. She always had trouble sitting still and the only thing that seemed to calm her down would be cumming hard. After lights out, She would somehow slip her bonds, come over to my bed and ride my face until I gave her an orgasm before she would go to sleep for real. Some nights, she would even wake up and demand another. I spent weeks begging to be separated from her, and I was eventually granted it, but whenever I was bad, Penny was allowed to spend the night with me, leaving it to me to tucker her out.

Next there was Emily. She used to be an escort that loved her job. Whenever she would reminisce about her time, she always had such a wide smile. Sometimes to the point where she could, and has, offered discounts. But there was the inevitable 'John' that was just awful in bed and would try to stiff her. Their bodies were often found a week later, covered in long shallow slashes, like from a large cat. Obviously she was caught, but was sent here because she was found 'unwell'. She told me she was surprised how much she didn't miss male clients, how much fun she's been having with the staff whenever she could sneak away with them in a supply closet. She knew which ones loved calling her mommy, which ones loved having their big asses spanked and which ones had gotten their nipples pierced simply because she told them they would look hotter if they did. She still couldn't leave, but why would she want to, as she would say. Everything she wants is right there. And if it wasn't, she could have one of the staff smuggle it in for her.

Nadia was a former child prodigy that had a "breakdown". Between ballet and volunteer work, as well as going after a degree in political science and her law degree, she had to wear many hats, as she would say. Her parents pretty much controlled every aspect of her life, pressuring her to succeed, forbidding her to date, and even then, they didn't know she was a lesbian until a week before she was checked in here. They found out when one of their friends had given them evidence that she had been moonlighting as a fetish model. She felt most at home when she could slip on a latex hood, becoming an uninhibited and anonymous slut. She'd often share that feeling with other girls, slipping them into vac-beds or catsuits and sharing her vibrator with them. Like me, she started out in the beginning believing that she didn't belong here, that this was another way for her parents to control her, but she eventually came around to appreciate St. Carroll's. They even let her start wearing her latex outfits again (courtesy of Emily). Last week, she managed to have her vac-cube brought in and she's been dying to see me in it. She thinks I would look so adorable in it, eyes under a latex mask as I'm brought to the edge of orgasm over and over again.

And finally Samantha.

Nurse Samantha. The undisputed Queen of St. Carroll's. Even Emily wouldn't dare cross her.

Nothing happened on her watch that she didn't allow. When I was first brought here, I thought she hated my guts. Every little thing I did was 'wrong' and earned me a demerit.

"Sorry sweetie. If you are going to lie, that's an hour of weights on your nipples".

"Speaking out of turn again, dear? Perhaps you can think about what you can do to improve after some electroshock plug therapy?

"If you keep insisting you don't belong here, maybe some time in the 'time-out hood' will give you some perspective"

But those were all easy compared to her 'therapy sessions'. At least once a week, but sometimes as many as four, I was brought out of my room for a session. It would start off with a few simple questions, but they rapidly grew more intimate. How many times have I masturbated since coming here? Who did I think about? What happened in these fantasies. Then the 'exercises'. If I wasn't already naked, I would strip while Nurse S would set up something. Sometimes she would pull on a strap on, put me in a collar and fuck my ass doggy style while calling me her good little bitch, other times, she would have me spread my legs wide and insert a speculum, spreading me open, and teasing me about how much I gape. On my first anniversary, she told me I would be allowed one 'day pass' outside the institute, before having staff stuff me into a catsuit, hood, blindfold, gag, armbinder, ballet boots, and a leash clipped on me. She told me she's going to take me out for a nice drink at a nearby bar. I never saw a moment of my time outside, but I could hear everything as she lead me to the place, announcing to the establishment that any unfinished drinks would be poured either in my mouth or over me, as well as free use for anyone who would buy her a drink. I don't think I had ever felt so messy and used as I did that day.

And sometimes the exercises didn't end when I left our sessions. She'd leave me with a vibrating 'present' in my ass or pussy, not allowed to take it out until she says so. There were many more exercises. She seems to relish the idea of her guests not being able to anticipate what's going to happen.

Huh, looking back, It's almost like this place broke me. Now I want nothing more than to be used by the staff and guests here at St. Carroll's, but... that can't be right. I don't feel broken. I feel like I'm home.

I suppose Emily was right. My first week here she told me "Everyone is a bit mad here".

So Hi, DPP! The lunatics have DEFINITELY taken over the asylum! Do you want to try out some psychological erotic horror? I'm looking for someone to play as any (or all) of the cast of St. Carroll's, or you could come up with some of your own. One caveat is that I am the submissive one here. I know someone will ask for me to domme, but it's just not what I am in the mood for.

And while I will discuss anything about this plot I created (it's not a fleshed out world, but I can make up facts about it on the spot if I really try) I encourage any responder to jump in. The beginning could be anywhere from the day I first came to the asylum, all the way to the moment I ended the prompt and I'm about to have a visit from one of the guests and/or a session with Nurse Samantha.

My Limits are pretty common: scat, blood, gore, vore, musk, animals, death.

Please use my DM. I don't like the chat function here