Anything for a Scoop – Part 5
The doors closed behind her and the air hissed around Delia, and she felt the air around her changing slightly as the pressures equalized, the countdown changing to another five-second timer. Delia stepped nervously from one foot to the other as she chewed at the bit, eyes glued to the doors in front of her. She barely registered the drool down her chin now.
At last, the cycle completed and the doors hissed open, revealing another reinforced chamber beyond, and another counter starting on the wall. Hurrying inside, Delia noted that this secondary airlock was even more robust, the walls seeming thicker, with various panels that gave her the impression that they could move. Some security features, perhaps? She suddenly froze as the doors slid shut behind, the air pressure changing again, and stared directly at the reinforced dome security camera overhead. Maybe they didn’t have any kind of AI analyzing the feeds, and the real security guards were otherwise occupied with Rampage? Surely they could see that she didn’t belong there…
That line of thinking was gone as the next doors cycled open, and for a wonder, there weren’t any nurses waiting for Delia, just another wide corridor, lit with weaker fluorescent lights overhead that revealed that the walls and floor were in black, all writing upon them in red. As Delia stepped into the hall, the airlock door sealing behind, she noted that the floor felt different than before. Looking down at the black tiles, noting their flat color, she raised her left foot, poked at one with her toe, feeling just the faintest bit of give as she applied her weight. Some kind of hardened rubber?
She looked at the walls, noting that the first doors weren’t for another twenty feet or so, with the same distance between each pair of doors lining the long hall, and saw the same flat color, and probably the same texture, though there were also panels visible here. Delia stepped closer, leaning in, but couldn’t really tell much. An air vent was set into the wall near the floor, only about six inches square, air hissing through it softly. So was the air filtered? Or was there something else to it? Delia sniffed, not getting any odors she hadn’t expected, just the scent of cleansers and a faint remnant of hospital food. It was quiet here, too, not even the expected background noises of nurses chatting or equipment beeping. The only sound was some kind of low, rhythmic thumping, barely audible, from somewhere ahead. Some kind of machine, the one pumping the air maybe.
Shrugging inside the jacket, feeling hot and a little sweaty after her frantic escape, Delia walked onward, looking toward the door on her right. She noted the digital display set into the wall by the door, the panel glowing red with a big ‘Locked’ icon stenciled across it. The door itself was flush with the wall’s surface and seemed to have no obvious handles or mechanism to open it besides the panel itself. There was an observation window, though. Delia stepped closer to it and peered in, having to raise herself up onto her toes a bit.
The glass was dark, however, and try as she might, she couldn’t see anything inside. Damn!
She turned quickly and walked across the wide hall to the other door, noting that it too was sealed tight and locked, but at least this one she could see into. At first, she wasn’t sure what it was she saw, though. It was like she peered through an aquarium, the colors beyond distorted and wavering just like looking through water in a tank. In fact, there seemed to be a lot of water, though there was definitely something in the next room. She could make out an open space beyond the water, more well-lit than the hallway she stood in. And there was something inside…some kind of device in the center of the room. Where was the patient? Inside the device somehow?
Delia took a breath, blinking sweat out of her eyes and wiggling about the straitjacket again. “They must have the temperature set warmer in this ward,” she thought. Maybe something to do with the self-contained air or other security features in place. She squinted through the glass, trying to understand what she saw beyond. It certainly wasn’t your standard hospital room, that was for sure.
Peering back through the darkened glass, she studied the device in the center of the room. She wasn’t sure what to make of it; it looked like an oblong sack of some kind hanging from multiple cables between two circular protrusions in the ceiling, the sack itself bulging at multiple points along its length from additional straps wrapped around it, making her think of a certain tire company’s mascot. Then she saw the sack move, a slight wiggle back and forth. Several lights on the devices that held the sack flickered from green to yellow, then back again.
That movement…was there someone inside the sack?!
Gulping, then panting, Delia turned her eyes toward the lock panel. It was big enough to be a touchscreen, but would it ask for a password? She nudged the panel with her elbow, but it didn’t respond. Working her shoulders again, the jacket having become stifling and starting to chafe, Delia looked down, saw the line of drool coming from her lips, the wet spot on her chest, and noticed her nipples starting to protrude from the canvas. Grunting with annoyance, she bent forward and pressed her nose to the panel.
With a faint beep and slight vibration at her touch, the panel went from the red lock screen to a status display. Grinning around the bit, Delia eagerly scanned the contents:
Patient ID: JE-07101996
Patient Name: Joyce Easton
Patient Alias: Blitzbolt
Current Status: Restriction Level – Maximum.
Work Release Status: Pending Patient Consent
To View Additional Patient Information, Scan ID Card. Authorized access only; alarm will sound upon unauthorized access attempt.
Delia’s eyes widened, and she leaned up, looking back into the room. That was Blitzbolt?! Aside from what she now understood was a vaguely human shape, she couldn’t even tell there had been a person inside the sack! What exactly did a maximum restriction level mean? This?! Obviously, the electricity-empowered woman inside couldn’t move, could barely wiggle in fact. When she had, the lights had changed…did she have to stay still? Delia looked around the room again, swallowing. Everything looked like it was coated with the same shiny black rubber as the sack.
It finally clicked a few seconds later when the form wiggled again, the lights once again shifting from green to yellow and back. Insulation. They were keeping Blitzbolt’s electrical powers contained within the rubber! Delia recalled when the villainess had first come on the scene, the terrible lightning bolts she had been able to call down or seemingly generate from her own body, some of the terrible burns Delia had witnessed upon interviewing the police officers who had encountered her. It made sense, but why so much? Was she even wearing anything beneath all that? And the water…
“Rggghfft,” Delia said around the bit, recalling how Blitzbolt had finally been captured. Apparently, enough water would short her out and temporarily reduce her powers to nothing, or it completely discharged her all at once, Delia wasn’t exactly sure what it did to the woman. Either way, her crime spree had ended when the heroine known as Black Cat had intervened, clad in a full rubber suit done up like the witch’s outfit she had worn during her first appearance and had used her powers to not only deflect or absorb the lightning, but to fling Blitzbolt into a water tower.
Sorely tempted to try her ID card on the reader, Delia shook her head. No, she couldn’t run the risk of getting caught. Even though the card had gotten her into the ward, what if that was all it did? Maybe with that much security, it was only allowed to be accessed by the special nurses in black and the administration? The alarm warning on the panel had been there for a reason.
Delia stood, turning down the hall, wobbling a bit as she felt a sudden heat fill her. She ground her teeth into the bit, shaking her head. The straps between her legs were pinching her nethers in a really annoying way, and though she hadn’t felt it before, maybe because of the adrenaline of her sneaking about and the run, she was definitely starting to feel a little aroused. “Stupid thing! Why am I even feeling like that?! I am not enjoying this!”
Pushing on, noting that the thumping sound she had heard in the quiet halls seemed a little louder now, maybe she was getting closer, Delia came upon the next room, across the hall from Blitzbolt. This door was locked tight as well, though the patient inside was nowhere as strictly restrained as Blitzbolt had been. In fact, she seemed to be quite free, at least her lower half was…maybe.
Delia recognized this woman immediately due to the blur of her legs as she ran atop a heavy-duty treadmill, several sparks of electricity coming from various protrusions on the device. It was Clean Sweep, one of the first criminals Mecha Musume and Cyber Seer had caught. Delia could still remember how nervous the police had been when they were cutting her free of the steel rebar she had been bound with; Delia had been nervous too, only a few feet away, snapping pictures.
Now the woman had a look of intense concentration on her face, focused straight ahead on a screen in front of her, not that she could really look anywhere else, thanks to the wide collar around her neck, looking almost as tall as a full-on neck brace, but made out of white rubber, with an attached device of some kind, the light glowing green. She also wore some thick headphones on her ears. The rest of her upper body was clad in what looked like a rubber straitjacket, bright white and glistening, possibly from sweat if the woman’s face and hair were any indications, her breasts bouncing slightly as she ran, nipples hard beneath the tight rubber. Multiple straps were attached to anchor points on the jacket itself, holding her tightly in place atop the treadmill, while additional straps, colored black and yellow, like caution tape, were wrapped around her torso, further restricting her arms. Though Delia couldn’t make it out clearly due to the blur of Clean Sweep’s legs, it looked like there was a fairly tight strap between her legs, too, clearly cutting into her crotch.
“What were they doing to her? Forcing her to run on a treadmill? What kind of treatment was that?! How can she even run like that?!” Delia thought furiously, huffing around the gag. She felt herself rubbing her own thighs together as she watched Clean Sweep run, felt the very pleasing sensation of her lower lips being rubbed by the tight straps. She then caught herself, grunting angrily. There was no reason to be doing that! She had work to do!
Leaning down, she pressed her nose into the lock panel, saw similar information as on Blitzbolt’s cell:
Patient ID: MH-09281998
Patient Name: Mariska Hathaway
Patient Alias: Clean Sweep
Current Status: Restriction Level – Moderate.
Work Release Status: Active – Power Generation Duty – 1 Hour Release
Therapy Type: Encouragement and Positive Reinforcement
To View Additional Patient Information, Scan ID Card. Authorized access only; alarm will sound upon unauthorized access attempt.
Delia also noted that a timer was counting down, and was almost done. Making note of the work release note and the therapy type, she stood again, watching through the glass. She heard another faint beep from the panel, and the lights in the chamber dimmed slightly as a few lights around the equipment went from green to yellow, including the one on Clean Sweep’s collar, which seemed to grow a little bigger, as if it had inflated. Immediately Clean Sweep slowed, her legs becoming solid as she came to a stop within a few seconds, panting and even sagging against the straps that held her upright. Her legs were bare, shiny with sweat, though a pair of cuffs were in place around her ankles, colored in the black and yellow caution scheme like those around her torso. A pair of running shoes were on her feet, and these were smoking slightly, the soles somewhat darkened.
Shifting to the side, Delia could just barely make out the screen Clean Sweep stared at. It showed a timer flashing zeroes, and a message: ‘Break time! Thirty-minute recovery period begins now. Please assume resting position and prepare for nutrient intake. You have been a very good girl. Good girls work hard to aid their community! Good girls do not steal from their community!’
By now, Clean Sweep’s tethers had loosened, and she had stepped off of the treadmill. Moving a couple of feet to the side, within the confines of a square cordoned off with the caution markings, she went to her knees, breathing quickly, but still in control. A device lowered from the ceiling and extended toward Clean Sweep’s face. Delia couldn’t see exactly what it was attached to the protruding end, but Clean Sweep frowned at it and reluctantly leaned forward, taking the device into her mouth. Through the clear tubing attached, Delia could see what looked like water flowing through, and indeed, Clean Sweep sucked eagerly at it.
Well…the restraints seemed a bit much, but if a person had super speed and could generate power on a treadmill, maybe the work release wasn’t exactly unfair… Delia frowned. There had to be more to it somehow. What else were they doing to Clean Sweep? She glanced down at the status panel, which showed a countdown for the break period, but no other useful information. What other experiments were they doing to her? Was it something with the headphones, maybe? And what had been on the screen before? Mind control, perhaps? Some kind of hypnotization?
Or, maybe they were just actually trying to help the misguided criminals here. Delia shook her head, snorting. No, it couldn’t just be that simple. A place as shady as this, run by a woman with mafia ties, there had to be more to it. There was no way the Edgewater Institute could be on the up and up. Where were the unfortunate missing persons who had been captured? The ones who were getting experimented on like the rumors she had heard. They had to be here somewhere!
Resolutely, Delia pulled herself from Clean Sweep’s cell, staggering onward, huffing and sweating as she pushed toward the next cell. The straitjacket felt like it had grown tighter around her, or maybe it was just the way the canvas rubbed at her nipples, which seemed to have grown much more sensitive. Her crotch was hot, and even without looking, she knew she was wet down there, could feel it as the straps continued rubbing at her. “Focus, damn it! You can’t let yourself get distracted by this stupid jacket! There’s a scoop here, and you’ve got to track it down! Eyes on the prize!”
To her frustration, the next two cells were empty; she even checked the display panels and they reported nobody inside. There was an intersecting hallway ahead. Delia paused at the corner, breathing quickly, and glanced around the corner. The harness holding the bit shifted around her head, and it too even seemed tighter. The hall revealed more cells, a dozen more at least, before the next intersection. Whatever that thumping sound was, it came from that direction. As she panted, Delia considered the rhythm. It was…almost like footsteps.
Deciding that perhaps it was better to continue straight ahead instead of chancing running into another super-powered nurse, Delia pushed off the wall and skittered across the open hall, noting the steel panels in the floor and walls, and even the ceiling at all three openings of the intersection, forming a line all around the hall. Noting the caution markings, she realized they were concealed doors, about a foot thick, probably designed to slam shut in the event of an escape.
The next cell too was empty, and Delia growled in frustration, tugging her arms angrily at the jacket, hoping that just maybe it had loosened, but finding no such luck. Stomping along, feeling lightheaded in the stuffy, yet cavernous halls, Delia came to the next cell, sighing when she saw light in the observation window. She hurried up to it, pressing herself against the door to stare in, panting.
Inside this cell, she noted quite a lot of medical equipment, various boxes with lights and buttons, cables running all over, computer screens flickering between various displays. Two black-clad nurses stood to either side of a table, attending to a third form that seemed to be strapped down to the table, their faces hidden behind gas masks, their lenses as black as the uniforms they wore. Strangely, the third form was clad in black rubber as well, the harsh medical lights making the glistening surface shimmer as if it were wet, the skin-tight latex catsuit revealing the shape of her breasts and hips. Oddly she wore a gas mask as well, though hers was of a different shape, and had hoses attached, which ran to some of the medical equipment beside the table.
Delia’s breath caught, and her eyes went wide. The figure strapped to the table squirmed beneath the straps, and Delia saw multiple long needles protruding from her body. There had to be at least two dozen already there, and one of the nurses drew forth another one from the surgical tray next to her. It glistened in the light as she held it over the restrained woman, turned the point down, and slowly lowered it, pushing it into the woman’s thigh. Somehow, the bound woman barely even quivered as the metal spike pierced her flesh.
At this, the two nurses looked to one another, crossed their arms beneath their breasts, and seemed to be carrying on a conversation.
What in the hell were they doing to that poor woman?! Delia finally remembered to breathe, feeling light-headed. Gasping around the bit in her teeth, she slid down the door and nosed the panel, wide eyes hungrily reading the display.
Patient ID: MC-XXXXXXXX
Patient Name: Unknown
Patient Alias: Momo-Chan
Current Status: Self Admission for Observation and Evaluation. Restriction Level – Variable. Medical exam in progress.
Procedure Details: Pain Receptor Mapping
To View Additional Patient Information, Scan ID Card. Authorized access only; alarm will sound upon unauthorized access attempt.
Delia blinked, reading the display again. Odd that there was not a proper patient ID, and her name was unknown? That sounded just like someone who may have been abducted off the streets and placed here against their will! Pain Receptor Mapping…that had to be some kind of torture. This was it. This had to be what she’d come after!
Noticing another button she hadn’t seen on the previous cells, Delia ran her tongue along the bit thoughtfully. It looked like a microphone. Did she dare?
Of course, she did. She shifted and nosed at the panel, missed on her first try, then felt the slight vibration from the panel as she hit the button, and immediately heard voices. She quickly raised herself back up to look into the window, saw that the two nurses were now bracing themselves on either side of the table, leaning toward one another.
“-ridiculous! We’ve been going at this for two hours now and she hasn’t even moaned once!”
“It just means that we’ve not found a spot where her pain receptors are functioning yet. This is only the initial exam; we have several more yet to do! Don’t be so impatient!”
“I just want her to make a sound of some kind! Do you not get how weird it is to have these kinds of needles stuck in you and not react?!”
“Calm down, okay? Geez!”
A giggle came from who Delia guessed was the woman strapped to the table. “Momo-chan told you, she can’t feel any kind of pain. You probably are just wasting your time. Might as well just give up if you don’t have the stomach to really go for it.”
Delia was vaguely aware that the footstep-like thumping was getting louder, but her attention was fully on the scene playing out inside the cell.
One of the nurses whipped her head around toward Momo-chan, snatching another needle from the surgical tray on her side of the table. “I’ll show you! I’ll get a scream out of you yet!” With her free hand, she reached for Momo-chan’s gas mask, jerked it off in one smooth motion, and brought the needle toward the woman’s face, which was obscured by the bright surgical lighting.
“No, you’re not supposed to take that off yet!” said the other nurse, reaching for her companion.
Momo-Chan screamed, a terrifying cry, and jerked wildly at the straps holding her down. “Put it back, put it back!” She wailed again as the nurses fought over the needle. “Momo’s face! Give Momo back her face!”
Delia stumbled and fell backward with a scream of her own, landing hard on her backside in the center of the hall. She could still hear the poor woman’s screams from the intercom. She shook, horrified by the sounds. This was worse than anything she could have imagined! She had to do something! She had to get this story out!
The terrified screams suddenly ceased, the silence returning to the halls. It took Delia a moment to realize she wasn’t alone. Gulping, she turned her head toward the side of the door, then raised her chin, taking in the looming figure of another nurse in black rubber, standing eight, maybe even nine feet tall, her finger lifting from the door panel after she had silenced the intercom. The motion seemed jerky, unnatural somehow. The remarkably tall nurse turned, first her body, and then her head, to face Delia, the dark lenses of her gas mask falling upon the frightened reporter. The movement had been somehow too stiff and yet too fluid at the same time…not natural. As the nurse breathed, the mask hissing, Delia saw a faint flow of something come out of the vents, almost like a vapor cloud that dissipated almost immediately.
It suddenly dawned upon Delia that though the nurse was covered in tight black latex, with the red cross emblazoned in the center of her large breasts, her chest wasn’t moving when she breathed out. Her boots were different too, the soles several inches thick, the boots themselves reinforced. She even wore a cluster of air tanks upon her back, hoses connected directly to her uniform along what appeared to be a reinforced corset.
“You are not supposed to be here,” said the nurse, her voice deep and electronic, emotionless, the words spoken at an odd pace…exactly like what Delia thought a robot would sound like. The nurse took one lumbering step toward Delia. The heavy thump of her boot upon the floor made Delia realize exactly what it was that she had been hearing earlier.
Delia screamed.
Reacting purely on instinct, Delia scooted backward across the floor and rolled to her side, screaming again as terror flooded through her. She kicked her feet against the rubberized tile, falling on her restrained arms as she realized she couldn’t quite make her body work the way she wanted.
The nurse took another step toward Delia, then another, slow and deliberate. “Do not resist,” she said, voice cold. “The Director hates it when patients resist.”
Head spinning, Delia resisted and continued scooting herself across the floor. She managed to get to her knees, and heard another heavy footfall behind her, right behind her now. Panting, Delia’s teeth were locked around the bit, and she fought to keep herself moving forward. Delia’s body felt so very hot, and she had a distinct feeling of numbness creeping through her. She tried to rise fully to her feet, wobbled upright, then stumbled to the side, hitting the wall with her shoulder before she slid to the floor. Drool poured from her lips around the bit, down her chin and over her chest, then to the floor as she slumped forward. “What’s going on?! I feel so strange all of a sudden…”
“You cannot escape,” said the frightful nurse, taking another slow step. “Breathe deeply of me, let me help you to relax.” The nurse’s voice was as devoid of emotion as ever, but somehow it sounded like she was trying to be comforting.
It wasn’t working.
Delia shook her head, vision blurring. She still felt hot, still felt the straitjacket as it rubbed against her nipples and how the straps rubbed her nether lips, yet she felt numbness creeping through her, a heaviness. It made no sense! Grunting as she continued to fight, Delia pushed herself forward, managing to slide another foot across the floor. Her body was becoming so heavy, and she just wanted to sleep…
Another massive footstep fell, this time right beside Delia. She had no more strength, though in her mind she willed her body to move. There was pressure at her back, the straitjacket tightening. Then she found herself floating…no, the nurse had picked her up by the straps at the rear of the jacket and now held her out like a helpless kitten. Delia’s head fell forward, eyelids heavy.
“Let us speak to Director Tempest about your activities…Delia Emmerson,” said the strange nurse.
Delia would have been shocked if she could have mustered the strength. The hallway blurred as the nurse turned, carrying Delia in an outstretched arm. So she knew who Delia really was…and she was getting taken to an interview with the boss. Delia’s eyes closed, her consciousness drifting into darkness as any sensation in her body vanished. “Anything for a scoop…” she thought as she blacked out.
Well, things have certainly gotten interesting for our adventurous reporter! Delia’s made some very interesting discoveries within the high-security area of the Edgewater facility and has found herself in quite the pickle. How is she going to get out of this one? Will Director Tempest be understanding and merciful? (If any of you know Jennifer Tempest, you already know the answer 😉 )
Stay tuned for the next exciting part of the story to find out! It should be up Saturday!
Kinktober Keywords
Cornered/Nurse
Psycho/Crying
Escape/Alien
Stealth/Armbinder
Asylum/Straitjacket
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Until next time! Urban, out!
