Prompt idea as follows! If you need a tl;dr...we're not going to get along. ;)

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“I hear you won’t let the nurses examine you.” The man sitting behind the desk said. The desk itself was, in her opinion, far too ostentatious. Running an asylum wasn’t the same as being a high powered CEO but you wouldn’t know it from the desk. It’s rich mahogany was polished so the morning light shimmered through the windows on the wood, reflecting light into her eyes and partially obscuring her view of the man.

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“No.” She said.

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“You know we’re a medical facility. One of the requirements of treatment is knowing what it is we need to treat. An examination is part of that knowledge gathering.” He said. He was shifting around behind the desk, although because of the sun in her eyes she couldn’t see what he was doing, he was little more than a shadow behind curtains of light.

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“Yea, well, the treatment is for my brain, not my body.” She said, then added, “I don’t like strangers touching me.” Not to mention the nurses had made her uneasy. She didn’t get any bad feelings about them, not the sort of feelings she’d get from other men. Feelings that were more than just feelings, but rather more like warnings. Feelings that had, in fact, landed her in this fucking place.

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“The two are pretty interconnected.” He was still moving. She didn’t like not being able to see him clearly. It made her uneasy but if he noticed he didn’t let it show in his voice, “Mind and body. We take a holistic approach here at Eaves.”

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She snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. The clothes she was wearing were dull and gray, for such an expensive facility they didn’t go out of their way to make the official wardrobe look welcoming. Still, it was better than the last place her Father had sent her to. There she’d been put in a hospital gown that left her bum out for the world to see.

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“I take it you’re not enthusiastic about being here.” His hand appeared in a beam of light, reaching to pick something up from the desk. A folder. She could only assume what was in the folder was a copy of her records as a moment later he added, “Ms. Herveaux. This is the forth such place where you’ve received treatment, I see.”

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“No, I’m not. And it’s the fifth.” She said, tilting her head and squinting to get a better look at the men. She knew her Father had called in some favors to get her a place at the Eaves. The place was exclusive, expensive, and more importantly as far as her family was concerned, remote. To get here they’d had to fly from New York down to Charleston. She’d watched the hills of West Virginia through the Charter plane’s window, not seeing the beauty in the lush rolling mountains beneath her. Even moving from plane to limo and watching the countryside as it passed her window left her feeling bereft, no matter how stunning the views were. To her they didn’t look like majestic scenery so much as prison walls. She supposed that was why her Father had pushed so hard to get her in here. This was a place where even if she escaped the confines of it’s solid stone walls she’d not have anywhere to run.

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Not that she thought she’d be getting out of this place any time soon. The jolt of dread she’d felt when she’d seen the Eaves wasn’t just because she knew she’d yet again be confined to a place she didn’t want to be or care for, but rather the sheer scale of the place had rendered her briefly blank. It was massive, looking more palatial than institutional. She’d expected another box of a hospital. Perhaps with better landscaping, considering she knew how much her Father was paying to send her here. She supposed she would have been better prepared if she’d looked through the documentation her father had given her on the Eaves. But she’d ignored it, too angry at being sent away again to tolerate reading about it first. Now she wished she’d at least glanced at the brochure. The building was a gothic and tudor style that looked better suited to horror movies than hospitals. A clock tower, situated on the roof, more than doubled the height of the building, while wings to either side gave the place a massive aspect. The circular drive brought them to a set of double wooden doors that looked heavy and far too ornate for a simply psychiatric hospital. It was then she realized this place wasn’t the average nuthouse. Her Father had really outdone himself this time.

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So hi! If you made it through that you've got an idea of the setting I've been thinking about, an asylum. As far as where it goes, well, I'm looking for someone to play the medical professional to my unwilling patient. The darker this can get the better. I'm clearly in a MOOD. A little about me and what I'm looking for:

Me: 36, 5'9, friendly, sane, loves books, writing, nerding, normally a Domme but really wanting to slip into some sub slippers.

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What I'm searching for: Ideally a long term RP based on the above prompt. You can play a doctor, or my father. Or if you have another idea I'm open to suggestions. Prefer M over 25 but open to anyone who's interested in the prompt!

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Thanks for your time!