Chapter 4
The evaluation sessions with Dr. Morris were a bit of a mixed bag. They broke the monotony of sitting in the common room, staring at old magazine articles she had read a million times, or playing board games with her fellow inmates. On the other hand, Morris reminded her of Aunt Carol: a constant frown, gray hair pulled into a severe bun, and a no-nonsense attitude. Their last session had devolved into a shouting match.
It was late afternoon, and an unpleasant smell hung heavy in the air. Several of the crazies had thrown a fit, yelling at each other as they voided their bowels, including a couple who hadn’t been diapered. Ernesto had to call reinforcements to get the chaos under control. This time at least, Quinn stayed out of the fray; she had only used her diaper for peeing and saving everything else for her session.
Moira sat on the stained couch, her hand down her sweatpants, rubbing furiously while Quinn tried her best to ignore the moans. She was just explaining the finer points of checkers to one of the newcomers when Ernesto showed up with a straitjacket and a spit mask.
“I didn’t do anything,” she said, raising her hands in defense. “If Moira said anything, she’s lying. And look, she’s getting herself off again. Why don’t you put her in that thing?”
Moira glanced over, a satisfied look on her face as she licked the fingers that had just been in her pants. Ernesto ignored her.
“It’s been an exhausting day,” he said, holding up the straitjacket. “Can we do this without the drama for once?”
“I didn’t do anything,” repeated Quinn, crossing her arms.
“Have you forgotten your session with the doc? Come on, let’s not keep her waiting. You know how she is.”
“Oh. Right.”
She stood up and let Ernesto put the straitjacket and mask on her. Good behavior or not, Morris didn’t allow unrestrained inmates in her office.
Ernesto escorted her through the ward, up the elevator to the third floor, into the first office on the left. Unlike the rooms on the lower levels, this one had air conditioning.
Morris presided at her huge desk, already frowning. For security reasons, none of the windows in the building opened, but she was prepared – a purple can of air freshener stood ready on her impeccably clean desk. When Quinn walked up and sat down in the upholstered leather chair in front of her, Morris pressed the button twice, filling the room with a penetrating scent of lavender.
Quinn couldn’t help but grin. “You think that’ll help, Doc?”
“Sit down.” Morris glanced at her tablet and picked up a stylus. “I hear you’ve been stirring up trouble again.”
“So? I’m not gonna let those bitches walk all over me.”
“I pulled your criminal record,” said Morris, reaching for her reading glasses. “Two counts of assault, a few weeks in jail, mandatory anger management training. Doesn’t look like it helped much; the very first day here you broke another patient’s nose.”
“I didn’t mean to break her nose, but she shouldn’t have taken my fucking pudding.” Quinn shook her head, unsuccessfully trying to get a strand of hair out of the way. “Why don’t you send me to jail?” She leaned forward, squinting her eyes. “I. Do not. Belong here!”
Morris shrugged. “A third of our patients should actually be in jail. But as long as they keep ticking the right diagnostic boxes, the system won’t release them.” She glanced at her tablet. “You, on the other hand, with your lack of boundaries and inhibitions – you most definitely belong here. Just remember, actions have consequences.”
“Speaking of consequences,” said Quinn, grinning. “You know what I heard? Last month you switched your car to manual and drove it into the pond right outside. Drunk as a skunk. Fourth or fifth DUI, but who’s counting?”
She leaned back, watching the blood drain from Morris’s face. The woman’s right eye was twitching. Moira had spread the rumor, but since neither Ernesto nor Janie had denied it, it had to be true.
“My issues are not the topic of this session,” said Morris after a long pause, her frown deepening. “My job is an evaluation of your mental state. Believe it or not, I am not the enemy.”
“Yeah? Forgive me for being confused. You had me diapered and trussed up like a pig.”
“You defecated on someone’s desk and got in half a dozen fights while you were here. Your issues with authority will keep getting you into trouble until you address them. Last time, you relieved yourself right in this office, like a petulant child.”
“Petulant child, huh?” Quinn felt the heat inside her rising. “If that’s what I am, fine.”
She lifted her butt off the chair a little, and the unavoidable followed. Morris sighed and sprayed her with a cloud of lavender, but it was no use. The stench coming from Quinn’s locked pants was still noticeable as it mixed with the air freshener.
“Got it all out?” asked Morris, still clutching the spray can. “Take your time; I’ll wait.”
Quinn glared at her through the fine mesh of the spit mask. She grunted and pushed some more, but there was nothing left, so she sat down in the chair, grinning as her feces spread inside the diaper. This was way more fun than checkers.
“I think I’m done.”
“Good.” Morris deployed the lavender one last time, then she leaned back. “This was absolutely pointless. I gave you the last slot of the day for a reason. In half an hour I’m going home, and you’ll have to sit in it for the rest of the evening.”
“So? I couldn’t care less. I was the female lead in Diaper Darling’s Dirty Deeds and a dozen similar productions.”
Morris glanced over the rim of her reading glasses. “You were an adult actress? Before you were a security guard?”
“Hardcore porn actress, until AI killed the industry.”
There was still some money to be made with custom videos, but it wasn’t enough to pay the bills. After a week as the city’s worst waitress, she had taken the job at Tucker & Fitch, and it had suited her well. On the night shift, she didn’t have to be around people – Ralph and his incredible dick being the only company she enjoyed.
“You worked in that… profession to earn money, or because you found it… sexually gratifying?” asked Morris, glancing over her reading glasses. “That particular niche you mentioned.”
The woman’s tough facade showed a few cracks as she checked off a few boxes on her tablet. Amused, Quinn watched her squirm in her huge leather seat.
“Both,” said Quinn, taking a deep breath of lavender mixed with that other, less flowery smell. “But what can I say? I love eating shit off a hard dick. It gets me all hot and tingly.”
Morris gulped.
“You know,” continued Quinn, watching the doctor closely. “At first, when you discover anal sex, you’re all about cleanliness. You give yourself enemas, you’re terrified. But after a while you relax, no more cleaning yourself out, and before you know it, things get dirty.” She grinned. “Watch my movies for inspiration: Poop Chute Passion, Diaper Doomsday. You might just like it.”
“I think we’re done here.” Morris pressed a button under her desk, and Ernesto appeared almost immediately. “I’m not going to entertain this attention-seeking behavior. Take her back to the ward.”
“Hey, Doc,” shouted Quinn as Ernesto dragged her out, the warm mass shifting inside her bulky diaper. “Any chance you could unlock these pants? What does a girl have to do to jack off in this place?”
Ernesto turned. “Your orders, Doc?”
“Let’s keep the jacket and the mask until Thursday. And the pants stay on for the rest of her stay. She’s clearly not to be trusted without them.”
“Bitch.” Quinn spat, but the gobbet was caught by the mask. “Give it a try, though,” she shouted from the corridor. “Nothing like sucking a dirty dick while you rub your clit! You’ll thank me later!”