Anything for a Scoop – Part 6
Delia heard something. She stirred ever so slightly, sensation slowly returning to her body. There was that sound again…what was…? Voices! Voices in the darkness.
“She’s starting to come out of it,” said a voice. Delia thought it was a woman’s voice, but it was so far away she couldn’t be sure.
“The two of you had better hurry up and finish getting that suit on her. It isn’t nearly as difficult as you’re making it out to be.”
Delia thought she made a sound, like a groan, but she couldn’t be sure. Silence returned, the warm darkness again taking Delia into its embrace.
“Idiots! How are you not getting this?! Let me do it!” Delia thought it was a woman again, closer this time.
Delia definitely groaned this time. She opened her eyes, a difficult task, her eyelids fluttering open only with great effort. Light filled her vision, and she squeezed her eyes shut again. She felt something tugging at her body, slowly becoming aware of a sensation of pressure slowly growing.
“There are so many little things about that suit, though,” said another voice, definitely a woman’s voice. “It really could be a lot simpler.”
“Careful, Del Vecchio…” said a third voice. “You want her to make our next uniforms even worse than these? Um, not that they’re bad quality or anything, just a little tight is all…”
“Tight and with seams and other little annoyances in places where they shouldn’t be…” said the second voice in a low grumbling tone. All of the voices seemed a little distorted for some reason. There were creaking sounds to either side of Delia…latex?
Delia opened her eyes again, slower this time. The light around her wasn’t especially bright, but it still hurt. How long had she been out? Her vision was blurry, but there was definitely a woman in front of her…no, to her side, leaning over Delia, doing…something. She blinked a few times, tried to make her mouth work, but it came out as more of an incoherent moan. Her vision cleared, mostly, and she could see that the woman had short red hair, her bangs hanging over much of her face; through a gap in her hair, Delia could see that she had brilliant green eyes, though that was about all Delia could tell; the lower half of her face below her eyes was hidden behind a gas mask. She seemed to be glaring across Delia at the other two.
“Those were made exactly as Jennifer ordered them,” said the redhead, her voice taking on an icy quality. “She and I did work up other designs, though. Maybe I should speak to her about those ‘punishment uniforms’? And a nice, extended testing period? I’ve certainly not forgotten your little stunt when I first came here, and neither has Jennifer.”
There was a nervous titter, and as Delia turned her eyes to the other side of the table, she saw two black-clad nurses, their faces hidden by gas masks. One held her hands up, waving them in front of her. Their uniforms glistened in the light, and hugged their bodies tightly, perhaps even more so than the other nurses Delia had seen. This close, it looked like they may have even been wearing corsets beneath the outer layer. “That’s really not necessary. I’m perfectly happy with the uniform I have now; it really is well made! Maybe I just need to lose a little weight and that tightness thing will go right away!”
The other nurse shook her head. “You’re such a suck-up, Bayne.”
Delia blinked. She recognized those voices! They were the nurses that were tending to Momo-Chan! “You…” Delia croaked, her voice barely a whisper. As the two turned toward Delia, she caught sight of their ID badges. They weren’t nurses, they were doctors! Sierra Del Vecchio and Adrianna Bayne. Delia thought at least one of them sounded familiar, but her mind was still too addled to recall. “You…the needles…that woman…”
“That was pretty intense, wasn’t it?” Del Vecchio asked, leaning closer to Delia. “You should have seen what happened after Miasma hauled you away…” Her voice had taken on a much lower, menacing tone.
Delia gulped, throat feeling dry. “What did…is she…”
Bayne slapped Del Vecchio on her shoulder. “Oh, stop it! You’re always doing things like this! The patient is perfectly fine. She calmed right down after we put her mask back in place. That part wasn’t supposed to come until later in her evaluation, but someone thought it a good idea to jump the gun.”
Del Vecchio snorted, rising and turning her attention to Bayne. “And you’re always trying to steal my fun!”
“Are we really going to have this conversation again? Why do you always try to scare the new patients?”
“Better be careful…” said the redhead in a low voice, too low for the other two to hear. Delia felt something sliding into place around her midsection, heard a few clicks, then the redhead rose. Delia’s eyes turned to her, but the redhead was looking toward, no, past the doctors. Why did her uniform have a bright pink, leopard print panel running down the side?
“Do I have to remind you again, Doctor Del Vecchio, that this facility is not for your entertainment? We are here to treat these patients with dignity and to the best of our abilities,” said another woman, her voice stern. Heels clicked on tiles from behind the pair of black-clad doctors, both of them stiffening immediately.
“No, that isn’t necessary, ma’am,” said Del Vecchio, her voice quavering. “I was just-”
“And why is our specialist finishing your assigned duties? Did I not order the two of you to dress Miss Emmerson for her stay?”
Both doctors lowered their heads. “Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison, both sounding like children who had just been caught doing something wrong.
“The connections were just so confusing, ma’am. We have only done it once before and-” said Bayne quickly, but she was cut off by Del Vecchio.
“We did most of it! The last parts were just too confusing, the design is-”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses,” said the one in charge, her heels coming to a stop a few moments later. Delia finally managed to turn her head, finding some resistance at her neck but caught a glimpse of the woman who had come up behind the two doctors. “The design is not that complex; the two of you obviously didn’t pay enough attention during Specialist Leopard’s demonstration. You will report to me immediately at the start of your next shift for additional training. Understood?”
That had to be Jennifer Tempest. Delia could barely see her at the moment as she was still hidden by the two doctors, could only see her light blue colored ponytail, a hint of fair skin, and part of her shoulder, which was covered in white latex and glistening like the nurses’ uniforms. Her voice was stern, perhaps cold with restrained anger, though somehow still sounded almost…seductive. Delia shivered.
“Yes, ma’am,” said the pair, again in unison, and still with their heads hung low. They sounded almost afraid of what was coming.
“And Doctor Del Vecchio, you will be reporting to me for an additional review of your behavior in the exam of your patient this evening. Her mask was not to have been removed until we had prepared her for it and begun the next phase of her examination. You have overstepped yourself again. Do not clock out without visiting my office before the end of your shift.”
Delia heard latex creaking, saw Del Vecchio’s hands squeezing into fists, her body stiffening, shaking a little. “Y-yes, ma’am,” she said at last.
“I believe there are other duties for the two of you to attend to. You are dismissed,” said Jennifer. The two doctors turned and quickly walked to either side of Jennifer, who looked over her shoulder to watch them go, giving Delia her first look at Jennifer Tempest.
As the doctors passed by, Delia could see that Jennifer actually stood a little taller than both of them, her light blue hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, not a strand out of place, even though the straps of her respirator-style gas mask ran around her head. Her deep brown eyes were narrowed as she looked after the doctors, her breathing steady and measured through the white mask, red lines highlighting the curves and angles of the device. Her body was covered in white and red latex, mostly white, but the layer she wore over top of the apparent catsuit beneath had red panels, like that of the redhead, Specialist Leopard, Jennifer had called her, running down her sides, and a big red cross over her right breast and an ID badge secured over her left. She wore a smart-watch on her left wrist, and in her right hand, she held a leather-bound tablet case.
Delia’s breath came out in a shudder when she took in Jennifer’s chest. The woman’s breasts looked amazing in that tight latex: large, round, held perfectly in place, with not a sign of her nipples beneath, unlike the more obvious protrusions that had been visible upon the doctors. Her waist was slender, a stylish belt secured around it, a pouch on either side for a cell phone, and something a little larger. Her hips widened as Delia’s eyes drifted below the belt, the skirt of her uniform hugging tightly around her curves, barely reaching mid-thigh. Her shapely legs were clad in red latex below the skirt, a pair of white circles set with red crosses set into the bands that circled her thighs. Delia could just make out Jennifer’s heels from this angle, a wide strap around each ankle, the heels tall stilettos, almost painful to even think of walking in, with an open-toe design revealing the latex-covered toes beneath. Yet the easy way Jennifer stood told Delia that she was more than used to wearing such footwear.
At last, Jennifer turned, her eyes widening from their narrowed state, looking upon Delia with obvious amusement. She brought up her tablet case and opened it up, tapping at the screen several times as she stepped up to Delia’s side. “Ah, Miss Emmerson, good to see that you’ve finally joined us. I have been quite eager to speak to you.”
Delia gulped, staring up at Jennifer Tempest. She felt her body trying to move away from the woman almost instinctively, but she couldn’t. Delia’s heart beat rapidly as she became aware of her inability to move. She felt resistance on her neck and chest, arms and legs and realized that she wasn’t wearing the same uniform she had been before. In fact, as she slowly became more aware of the sensations she felt, she realized that her body was hot and that she couldn’t feel the air in the room like she normally could. The creaking sound as she squirmed, the strong rubbery scent in the air…she was wearing latex too!
“Miasma’s gas can be a little difficult to overcome the first time,” Jennifer said. “She is a most unusual woman, but her nature makes quite the excellent security feature for my facility.”
“W-what d-do you mean?” Delia said slowly, her mouth not yet working as it normally would. She felt a tightness around her chin and face now…more latex.
“The maximum security ward is her patrol area; she is constantly emitting a gas that will render anyone we have tested unconscious within thirty seconds, assuming they aren’t wearing protective equipment that is,” Jennifer replied. “For you, Miss Emmerson, she modified her output to be more stimulating at first, but to then slowly put you to sleep. You were quite curious to see our facility, were you not? You certainly went through a lot of effort to sneak inside, at any rate.”
Delia felt her cheeks heat even more than they already had, and she squirmed again on the table. She couldn’t really understand Jennifer’s explanation. Miasma, a strange name for a nurse, had modified her gases somehow? How could she constantly emit a gas? Some kind of superpower? That was the most likely explanation.
Delia could feel straps on her arms and legs now and realized that her fingers seemed to be stuck inside something, like tight-fitting mittens. There was pressure around her head, and her midsection too as she breathed more deeply, and…was there something between her legs? Something inside?
That realization should have terrified her, but Delia felt strangely subdued. Though her mental sharpness was coming back, she felt relaxed, unusually so. Her body didn’t seem to be in any real pain, and though she struggled a little, she didn’t exactly feel like she had the willpower to mount a more intense escape attempt.
“Do try to speak, Miss Emmerson. I am giving you a rather significant portion of my time today, so I would appreciate it if you would acknowledge that.”
Delia blinked, took a breath, continued to stare at Jennifer. She felt something strange about the woman. There was just something about her presence, her voice, the way she looked at Delia that made the reporter squirm. “I…I don’t…what are you…doing to me? Don’t feel right…”
“That’s another of Miasma’s subtle gases,” Jennifer replied, tapping rapidly at her tablet. “Simply something to keep you relaxed, for our safety and yours, while you were being dressed. When you are in your room, you’ll be breathing normally.”
“My room? You’re keeping me here? A prisoner?” Delia said, her voice rising somewhat, though she really couldn’t get angry at the moment.
“No, of course not,” Jennifer said. Though Delia couldn’t see her face behind the gas mask, Jennifer’s eyes told Delia the woman was smiling. “A patient.”
Delia’s eyes widened, her mouth opening, then closing. “Patient? But I’m not sick…” She felt like she should be more upset about that declaration, but she just couldn’t at the moment.
Jennifer sighed and one light blue eyebrow raised. “Not sick, you say? Not physically, but you are obviously suffering several psychological issues, Miss Emmerson. Shall I explain, then? You seem to be having trouble comprehending your position.”
Delia shook her head slowly, squeezing her eyes shut, squirming against the straps that held her down. “No, that’s not it…the scoop…you’re mistreating patients here…strange experiments…abducting people, keeping them in strange restraints, doing experiments on them…so many in the last few weeks. I had to get proof of that. All these black-clad nurses, those doctors torturing that Momo girl…it’s all clear. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, Tempest, and I’m going to make sure the authorities are told everything.”
“Oh, you are, are you? It would seem that your delusions are quite severe, Miss Emmerson.” Delia opened her eyes in time to see Jennifer look over Delia toward Specialist Leopard. “Specialist, you can leave now. I have some things to discuss with our patient that are confidential.”
“Sure thing, boss,” replied the redhead in a cheerful tone, snapping off a quick, playful salute. “Is that all you need from me today, then?”
Jennifer nodded. “Yes, thank you. I believe you were supposed to meet with Maria this evening? Say hello to her for me.”
“Will do! I’ll let you know when the next prototype is ready for testing, too. Bye!” said Specialist Leopard, heels clicking as she hurried off.
Once the redhead had gone, Jennifer turned her attention fully to Delia. She looked down at the reporter, their eyes meeting. Delia felt her heart beating faster, quivering under Jennifer’s intense brown orbs. Delia let out a shuddering breath, turned her head aside. “You can’t keep me here,” she said, not feeling nearly as confident as she had hoped she would have.
“Can’t I?” Jennifer asked, tapping at her tablet. “Miss Emmerson, you are in a lot of trouble, but I am more than willing to help you overcome the hardships you are facing. I can see quite clearly that you have been calling out for help for some time. Help that I can certainly give you. I fully support a free press, and investigative journalists such as yourself are so rare these days. It would be a pity to see a promising career such as yours come to a premature end.”
Delia blinked, shaking her head weakly. “What are you talking about? I saw what you were doing to Blitzbolt and Clean Sweep, and that Momo girl. The first two are extreme and hardly what I’d call humane, and the last…that was pure torture.” Delia felt a little more fired up now, but it was still just a spark; she still felt amazingly relaxed, comfortable even with all the straps and whatever outfit they had fit her into.
Jennifer seemed to still be smiling behind her gas mask as she turned, sitting on the edge of the table Delia had been secured to. The latex of her own clothes rubbed against Delia’s with a squeak. She looked over her tablet again, looking down to Delia after a few moments. “I can’t discuss all of the details of my patients, you understand, given doctor-patient privilege, but in the cases of Miss Easton and Miss Hathaway, I can offer some insight. Recent legislation has given us some leeway with our ability to restrain super-powered individuals for the safety of my staff and the city itself. Regular restraints simply will not work on either of the two examples you gave. Miss Easton’s electrical generation and manipulation abilities require incredible levels of insulation for our equipment and security should she try to escape, which she has done multiple times. Our therapy sessions have begun to show some promise, but she has a long way to go.”
Jennifer tapped her screen again. “Miss Hathaway has been much more receptive to our sessions, hence her work release authorization. She is learning that it is much more fulfilling to help her community than it is to harm it and her gifts can certainly do that when applied properly. What energy she generates is fed directly into the grid and shared with the city.”
Delia grunted. “What about Momo, then? What do you call that? I saw that there was no patient information like the others. Did you pluck her off the streets for those doctors to experiment on?”
Jennifer scoffed. “Hardly. Momo-Chan…and this is the only identification information she would give us…voluntarily submitted herself for multiple psychological and physical issues she needed assistance with. She has been greatly traumatized by something, and her body has changed in a way inconsistent with the nature of those who have gained super-powers. I suspect that she has been the victim of an experimental procedure, but I won’t comment further without additional details becoming clear. What is clear is that her nervous system and genetic makeup have been altered in such a way that she cannot perceive pain; her body certainly knows it is being injured, but her mind does not register it.”
Frowning, Delia considered Jennifer’s words. She seemed…truthful, but if anyone would know how to lie, it would be one of the Tempests. “And what about what she said…about them removing her face?”
“An unfortunate psychological condition,” Jennifer explained. “She has developed a severe dependence for wearing latex upon her body and upon wearing her gas mask. She cannot cope with being separated from either for any time at all. To her, that mask is her face, her true self, and the suit she wears is her skin.”
“That seems awfully convenient…” Delia replied slowly. Delia got the impression that Jennifer was smirking at her behind that gas mask. Weakly Delia tugged at the straps that held her but got nowhere. “What about those nurses? What about the other patients you have here?”
Jennifer shook her head, tapping the tablet screen again. “No, Miss Emmerson, I will not discuss them any further. We should be discussing you now, and the help you need.”
“What are you talking about? The only help I need is getting out of here so that I can report on all this stuff you’re doing. You can’t keep me here; my boss knows what I’m doing; he’ll start asking questions if I don’t report back tonight, questions you don’t want to be asked. I know all about the shady stuff you and your family are involved in; wouldn’t want some of that getting out.”
Laughing, Jennifer crossed her legs. “Oh, Miss Emmerson, I can certainly keep you here for some time; at least seventy-two hours, longer if we determine a need for it. And do you really know about my family? We have our peculiarities, certainly, but I do take offense at baseless allegations of illegal dealings. Since we’re speaking of illegal actions…shall we discuss yours?” Jennifer raised a finger and continued to do so for each point she made. “Impersonating one of my nurses in what amounts to a clear case of identity theft, bribery of said nurse, violating patient privacy laws, trespassing, falsely accusing my facility of illegal activities to defame it and myself…need I go on?”
“But that’s-” Delia started.
“What is your catchphrase, Miss Emmerson? ‘Anything for a scoop’?” Jennifer asked quickly, cutting Delia off. “You have a history of dangerous behavior. By your own admission you have been captured and restrained several times, and narrowly escaped in each of those cases. Your investigative journalism has involved you breaking and entering, sneaking through multiple facilities. Unless I miss my guess, you crave danger, need the adrenaline rush you get when you’re performing these activities.”
“That’s just part of the job!” Delia said in protest, latex creaking as she pulled at the straps. It was a weak struggle, but at least she was fighting back.
“Just a part of the job…” Jennifer replied, shaking her head slowly, tapping at her screen. “And was it part of your job to exacerbate the rivalry between Pink Pussy and Shadow Lynx? It is quite clear that once you started reporting regularly on their activities that your stories became quite divisive. Oh, you covered it well enough for the average person to miss, but you committed a grave journalistic sin, Miss Emmerson. You picked sides. You began injecting opinion into your reports, taking one side or the other, painting one of the heroines in a worse light, or misconstruing their comments as attacks on one another. It was only a matter of weeks before they were at each other’s’ throats.”
“But I didn’t…that was just…”
“I suppose it’s no coincidence that you became more famous after these reports?” Jennifer asked, her tone accusatory. “More views and clicks? It’s quite a clear pattern, really. Factual headlines for the first few years of your career, but once the supers started showing up, your reports became much more sensationalized, much more biased, one way or another. That was a significant sum you gave to Nurse Stewart, Miss Emmerson. Surely not all of that was fronted by your employer?”
Delia squirmed atop the table, feeling warm all over, especially in her face. “I didn’t lie or anything,” she said defensively. “It’s all the truth of what was going on.”
“The truth, but with an obvious bias,” Jennifer said. She sighed. “It’s not my place to discuss journalistic ethics with you. No, my concern is your mental well-being, Miss Emmerson. It’s your consistent habit of endangering yourself in the pursuit of fame and fortune under the guise of reporting the facts. I believe there is significant evidence of a pattern of such incidents over the years that should be addressed before you find yourself in a position you can’t escape from. If you haven’t already.”
“No, no you can’t do that. I don’t consent to any of this! You just let me go right now, Tempest. The public needs to know what goes on here!” Delia wanted to sound threatening, but she just couldn’t build up the anger she needed. “They need to know how you’re mistreating these people!”
At this, Jennifer hopped off the table, turned, and leaned close to Delia, her brown eyes hard and narrowed. Delia found herself trying to pull away from the blue-haired woman. When Jennifer spoke, her voice was icy. “Miss Emmerson, you do have a choice to make. The decision is yours as to whether you wish to continue your career with my assistance to treat your delusions, or find yourself discredited and in jail, facing the full force of my legal team.”
“W-what do you…you can’t!”
“We have already discussed the legal ramifications of your infiltration of my facility; from the sound of it, you have no intention of reporting the truth about the institute when you leave, and I cannot accept that.” Jennifer’s glare intensified somehow, and Delia whimpered. “Your choices are as follows, Miss Emmerson: One, you can be released immediately into police custody for your antics tonight, and I can see to it that you never hold another position in any journalistic capacity, assuming you are still interested after your years in jail. Or two, you can allow me to assist you in dealing with your mental and emotional issues and work with you to better yourself without ruining your reputation.”
Delia’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. She was stunned, yes, but not nearly as angry or fearful as she should be. That gas…
“Perhaps some video to help you make your decision?” Jennifer asked. She tapped her tablet and held it up for Delia to see. Delia saw herself entering the building, coming out of the nurse’s locker room, sitting in on the meeting at the start of the shift. “This is where things turn quite a bit worse for you, Miss Emmerson.” There was a smugness in Jennifer’s voice, something that made Delia shiver.
Delia watched as the nurses walked down the halls towards the training rooms…then the camera angle shifted, showing the group walking down the hall…and Delia slipping away from them. Her mouth opened in surprise as she watched herself run to a nurse’s computer, typing at it for a couple of minutes, looking back and forth, clearly showing her face- “No! I didn’t…” As the scene shifted to Delia sneaking down a familiar hallway, minus the straitjacket, it clicked. “Monique!”
“It was a good trick, Miss Emmerson; I didn’t see any reasons why it couldn’t be used against you,” Jennifer said. “Nurse Stewart came to me immediately after you first approached her and told me everything, and kept me informed after each of your meetings. So eager to climb the ladder, that one.”
Eyes wide, Delia watched helplessly as Monique read through Dollface’s charts, then went into the room next door, Rampage’s room, reading his charts. Then she went to some of his equipment, hitting buttons, messing with an IV or two…
“It really wasn’t my plan that Rampage would actually awaken while you were sneaking about, but some things just happen for a reason, I suppose. Did you know that Nurse Stewart has an aspiring actress before she turned to the nursing program? No?” Jennifer was definitely smiling behind that gas mask, her eyes gleaming with a sense of superiority that Delia couldn’t stand.
The video cut to Rampage’s awakening soon after, of Monique running through the halls, making it look like she had caused the mess, then several other nurses chasing after her. Delia watched as Monique fought them, even managing to throw one of them into a medical cart, toppling it and spilling its contents across the floor. Finally, the nurses managed to seize her and haul her into a room, where it cut to the footage of Delia’s actual experience of fighting the nurses, watching herself getting secured into the straitjacket and secured to the bed. Her trained eye picked up on a few little edits here and there, making it look a little less like a training exercise and more like an actual struggle. The rest of the footage was of Delia herself as best she could tell, making her escape, slipping through the halls, going straight into the high-security ward and snooping around, and finally her capture by Miasma.
“It’s a shame that our security system was damaged by Rampage’s awakening; otherwise you might not have managed to get into the high-security ward at all,” Jennifer said as the video ended.
Delia glared up at Jennifer. “You can’t do that! I saw those edits! And close inspection will show that it isn’t me in that footage!”
“Do you honestly believe that, Miss Emmerson? You live in the world of the mass media, where deceptively edited footage is a fact of life. All anyone will care about is if what they see makes sense. Do you think they won’t believe what they’re seeing? A reporter known for her many instances of sneaking in, being captured, only to escape and tell her story? Isn’t it logical to assume that it is only a matter of time before she’s caught and charged, especially because her negligence led to several injured nurses and the near escape of a super-powered, deranged criminal?”
Delia’s mouth worked soundlessly, and she shook her head slowly. “No…you can’t do this…” she said, her voice trailing off as the weight of Jennifer’s ‘evidence’ hit her.
“I can…but I don’t have to. There is another option, Miss Emmerson.” Jennifer turned the tablet toward her, tapped and swiped a few times, then turned it back to face Delia.
Another video played, this time showing the front entrance lobby of the Edgewater Institute, Monique walking in wearing the same outfit she had worn during their last meeting at the diner. The only difference was that she had her hair styled like Delia’s now. Delia watched as Monique walked to the admissions desk, spoke to the attendant about how she had been feeling unstable and stressed, how she felt like she was losing control. Delia had to admit, Monique pulled off Delia’s voice pretty well and actually made it sound like she was cracking under the stress, whatever stress that might have been. Paperwork was signed, and soon a couple of nurses came to escort her away, and Delia watched as Monique was led to an exam room, then was spoken to by Jennifer herself.
“I can let the footage continue, but it’s rather boring compared to the other video,” Jennifer said. “The gist of this one is that you signed all the paperwork agreeing to a seventy-two-hour observation period and mental evaluation. Complete consent to whatever treatments may be deemed necessary for you to recover your mental faculties, of course, and with notification being sent to your employer so that no unnecessary questions need be asked. Depending on what our initial examinations determine, you may find yourself staying for an extended period.”
“This will…I’ll still be ruined. If word of this gets out, people won’t trust anything I say!” Delia said, her voice shaking.
“I don’t think you should be so worried about that,” Jennifer said, turning her tablet back to her and tapping at the screen. “Computer records are such an easy thing to change when you know how,” she said, far too matter-of-factly for Delia’s taste. “I hold the privacy of patients in the highest regard, Miss Emmerson. Though the footage shows Nurse Stewart signing in as you, she didn’t use your name. You’re something of a celebrity, after all, and celebrities often use false names if they are to receive medical treatments that could put them in a bad light. Only I and my closest staff members know your true identity; none of the regular nursing staff even suspects.”
Jennifer paused, regarding Delia for a few moments. “I can help you, Miss Emmerson. You simply have to agree to my terms, and I can assure you that your life will go on mostly unchanged, though perhaps you will feel less need to sensationalize your stories and endanger yourself. While here you will be completely under an assumed name, and your identity will be hidden by the patient uniform you currently wear. As an added incentive, I will gladly assist you with the story you’re going to write about my facility. A personal interview with the chief administrator for starters, and a thorough demonstration of our new security and restraint systems for super-powered persons.”
Jennifer’s eyes softened slightly, but still, Delia felt a shiver go down her spine. “I can assure you, I won’t be giving such an interview to just anyone. Believe it or not, Miss Emmerson, I really do respect what it is you’re trying to do, I just think your methods have become clouded by your mental instability. But of course,” she said, her eyes hardening again, “the choice is ultimately yours. Will you accept my help, or shall we call the police and begin the terribly damaging legal process?”
Delia breathed in deeply, held it for a second, then blew it out. What choice did she really have? She looked at Jennifer Tempest with fear clearly in her eyes but slowly nodded. Jennifer had played her and set a perfect trap for Delia. Monique had played her part splendidly. They had her at their mercy; there was no easy way out of it. “I…I’ll agree to it…whatever it takes,” she said, at last, any remaining struggles against the straps coming to an end. “Anything for a scoop, right?”
“A very wise decision, Miss Emmerson,” Jennifer replied, the look in her brown eyes making Delia shiver. Jennifer stood with a creak of latex, tapping quickly at her screen a bit more before she closed the cover and sat the device aside. “Shall we get you to your room, then? You’ll be staying in our maximum security ward for your initial observation, for your protection of course, and I can assure you that you will be receiving attention from the most skilled of my staff.”
Delia gulped, eying Jennifer as the woman pressed a button on the side of the table. Hearing an electric whir, Delia felt the table shift beneath her. A moment later she was moving, tilting forward into a standing position. Looking forward, she gasped upon seeing herself in a full-body mirror that seemed to have been placed just so that she could see herself when the table was raised. “What am I wearing? This is…a patient uniform?”
White latex covered Delia from head to foot, smooth, and for a moment, she thought completely seamless. The only part of herself she could actually see were her eyes and lips, her dark skin contrasting sharply with the white of the hood. The hood was completely smooth over her head, too, hugging it almost as if… “You shaved my head?!” she asked, her voice actually rising despite the overwhelming calm she felt, wide eyes staring back in sudden horror.
“Of course; all of your body hair has been removed; it’s a sanitary precaution,” Jennifer replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “You have signed a consent form agreeing to whatever measures we deem appropriate, after all. And since you are so very interested in our patient treatments, I deemed it quite appropriate that you experience the most extreme of those. You should feel quite honored, Miss Emmerson; you are the very first to experience the newest line of patient uniforms.”
Shaking her head slowly as she stared at her reflection, Delia took in the rest of the outfit she had been placed inside of. At her neck was a collar, likewise made of rubber, but striped in black and yellow, pressed against her jaw and collarbone, a small box in place instead of a buckle, a green light glowing on the small device. She could look around, but it had been difficult; she couldn’t look down or up very far, though. The collar seemed familiar…
Jennifer’s fingers brushed Delia’s cheek. “I will give you more details during our official interview, as much as I can without risking too many secrets being released, but these suits have been designed by Specialist Leopard to contain super-powered individuals; the latex has a most unique property that actively resists tampering and damage. It’s quite an achievement, really; it basically functions in a way that meets one force with an equal and opposite force. Try to rip free or tear through, and the suit responds immediately to negate such forces. This makes them exceptionally difficult to remove or to affect with various elemental or other energy-based attacks.”
Delia’s breath quickened and she shivered. Jennifer touched the collar with one hand, the other touching Delia’s midsection. Delia’s eyes lowered, taking in her latex-encased breasts, a pair of metallic connectors resting over her nipples, and a few more dotting her chest. Her arms were secured by straps to the table but were also fully covered with latex, more of the black and yellow straps dangling from her biceps, base of her elbows, and wrists; her hands were fully contained inside thumbless mittens, leaving them mostly useless, and even they had straps dangling from them. There were at least three of the small metallic connectors like those on her chest on each arm. Finally, Delia looked at her midsection. It looked like a corset of some kind had been placed around her, the white latex device extending from just beneath her breasts to the tops of her hips. It had several straps lining it as well, each with the striped black and yellow pattern and small lock boxes instead of buckles, though a wider black belt was cinched firmly around her waist, with another belt going between her legs. She noted that the corset had several metallic connection points set into it as well, and the belt had several rings attached to its surface.
“You may recall this collar from your observation of Miss Hathaway. This and the corset will function together to limit unauthorized movement within the facility by limiting your ability to breathe if you are discovered to be doing something you shouldn’t be doing during your release periods. They will also track your location and report basic vital signs, of course.”
“W-what’s the deal with the belt?” Delia asked, mouth dry.
Jennifer’s fingers drifted the waist belt, then to the part that went between Delia’s legs. She applied a little pressure, and Delia got that sensation again that something was inside of her. “This is simply an attachment point for additional restraints…if needed, mind you…and it serves to keep your plumbing hookups secure.”
“Plumbing…hookups…?” Delia’s head spun.
“You didn’t think that a patient restrained like Miss Easton for example would be expected to spend long hours holding it in, did you?” Jennifer asked, clearly amused. She definitely wore a smile behind that gas mask. “This frees up our staff to handle other duties while allowing our patients to be relieved without delay. These connection points,” Jennifer said, tapping one of the metal rings sitting atop Delia’s nipples, “are for daily cleansing without removing the suits, as well as additional procedures that may be required.”
“Oh my god…” Delia muttered, shaking her head slowly again. “That’s terrible!”
“Would you rather be wearing a diaper instead, Miss Emmerson?” Jennifer asked, her chin raising, her eyes becoming harsher. “If you are so set against it, I can certainly arrange for such a thing.”
Gulping, Delia gave a slight shake of her head, feeling her face burning at the humiliating suggestion. “N-no…that’s…no.”
Jennifer’s gaze lingered a bit longer, but finally, she turned back to the mirror, pointing to Delia’s legs. These were similar to Delia’s arms in that they were completely covered, with multiple metallic connection points and no less than four sets of the black and yellow straps dangling from her thighs, above and below her knees, and at her ankles. “You may or may not have noticed, but the suit is actively forcing your feet into a more severe resting position; this will ensure that you are restricted to smaller steps, preventing you from running should the other restraint methods fail. Simple, but effective.”
Delia looked at her feet, wiggling them. She hadn’t noticed, but as she looked at them in the mirror, they were indeed being forced downward. Her toes were contained in smooth, shiny latex, just like her hands; she wouldn’t be using her toes to slip out of these restraints. She felt the suit fighting her attempts to straighten them out, and she actually grunted with the effort she exerted to try and move them to a more level position. As they were now, she would have to walk on her toes, if she could walk at all. “This is a bit extreme, don’t you think? I mean, is all this really necessary?” Jennifer gazed levelly at Delia through the mirror, tilting her head slightly, her eyes giving Delia the impression that she was entirely serious. “Uh…forget I asked…”
Jennifer plucked one of the devices from her belt, her eyes still upon Delia. She swiped the screen with her thumb, tapped in a passcode, then tapped a few more times. Delia heard a faint beeping from the locks at her neck and further down her body, heard a whir, and then felt the collar grow a little tighter, the corset too. “I have fully armed your collar and corset, Miss Emmerson. Do not resist as I secure you for the trip to your room; I’m sure you would find the experience unpleasant.”
“Like I don’t already find it unpleasant?!” Delia thought, her mouth opening to voice the opinion, but snapping closed a moment later without a sound. Instead, she managed a very small nod, eyes watching Jennifer intently. When Jennifer stepped up to Delia, she deftly undid the straps holding Delia’s arms to the table. She then lifted Delia’s arms, crossed them in front of her, and fed them through a pair of straps at the sides of the corset. With a hand pressed against Delia’s arms, Jennifer undid the straps holding Delia’s upper body to the table with her free hand, then leaned the reporter forward. Delia felt the corset pressing into her body, and she strained to breathe for a moment as her arms were pulled into a tighter hug, and the straps on her hands were brought together. This close, Delia could smell Jennifer’s perfume over the scent of rubber, some kind of exotic scent she couldn’t immediately place.
Delia felt a tingle go through her body, felt herself growing warmer beneath the latex hood. Though she couldn’t manage a full breath at the moment, she struggled to do so, breathing in Jennifer’s scent. She let out a shuddering breath a moment later, realizing that her nipples were hard and rubbing against the connection points on her chest, and there was a surprising heat stirring between her legs. She squirmed, her latex suit creaking against the table. She tried to lean forward, tried to press herself against Jennifer, but the other woman’s hands kept Delia where she was as she finished securing a pair of the straps on Delia’s biceps, wrapping them around the opposite arm now that they were crossed.
“Calm yourself, Miss Emmerson,” Jennifer said as she pushed Delia back against the table, her voice taking on a sultry, seductive tone that made Delia shiver.
Looking at Jennifer’s face, Delia met the woman’s eyes, and she sucked in her breath, feeling her heart pounding. Jennifer’s eyes were so beautiful, had a playful glint in them that promised so many things. Delia felt her thighs pressing together, felt the intruders that had been placed inside her shifting, and wanted them to do so much more.
For her part, Jennifer continued to work in a slow, deliberate manner, securing a strap around Delia’s forearms that connected them to the corset, making sure Delia could barely move her arms at all. Her eyes shifted as she met Delia’s gaze again; she had to be smiling behind her mask. “Have we finally found a position that you enjoy, Miss Emmerson? Do you feel that perhaps you could stay like this forever?” Jennifer asked, her voice still hot and sultry, a teasing quality to it.
Gulping, Delia tried to nod, having forgotten the collar, then stammered. “I…y-yes, ma’am…” She felt herself grow hotter, tried to make herself look away, but couldn’t, her eyes firmly locked upon Jennifer’s form. How could she have said something like that?! She didn’t like this…did she? It couldn’t be!
“Do be mindful when I undo your leg restraints; I’ll guide you to the wheelchair once you’re free.” Her voice was still smoky, still drawing Delia in, and her gaze lingered upon the helpless reporter.
Jennifer then crouched in front of Delia, and Delia kept her eyes upon the blue-haired woman in the mirror, watching how the latex outfit she wore stretched and held her body, saw how it perfectly outlined Jennifer’s narrow waist and curvy hips, shimmering in the light. Delia sucked in her breath, nearly gasping as she continued to squeeze her legs together, barely registering that they were being unstrapped from the table. If Jennifer was the one tending her, she would have preferred to have remained strapped to the table forever…
“No! Get a hold of yourself, woman! It has to be that gas, you shouldn’t be feeling like this!” Delia thought furiously. Though her mind momentarily broke free of whatever had come over her, as Jennifer stood once again, her hands taking hold of Delia’s bicep and shoulder, Delia gasped, feeling her desire to be with Jennifer growing again. “She’s touching me…her hands are strong but gentle…what would it feel like if she weren’t touching me through all this latex? What if…she touched me in other places…?”
“We’re ready to move, Miss Emmerson. Step carefully, it’s just a handful of steps,” Jennifer said softly, a whisper in Jennifer’s ear, her mask just barely brushing against the latex that covered Delia’s ear. Their eyes met through the mirror, and Delia quivered again as Jennifer eased her forward off the table.
Delia followed Jennifer’s lead immediately, eager to do as the stunning woman told her. She balanced herself upon her toes, the suit making sure to keep her feet arched downward with only the slightest give. She kept her steps short, but with Jennifer holding onto her, there was no danger of her falling. It was perhaps only five feet to the waiting wheelchair and Delia turned, was assisted in sitting down upon it, and felt an inexplicable sense of loss as Jennifer’s hands left her arm. It abated quickly though as she saw Jennifer’s hips and shapely rear come into view in front of her, and she watched with eager eyes as Jennifer eased into another crouch. Delia’s eyes strained to watch as she pressed her chin against the collar, not wanting to lose sight of Jennifer for an instant.
Jennifer began connecting the straps attached to Delia’s legs, drawing them together starting at her thighs and working her way down. The straps were tight, sealed with those electronic locks, but Delia didn’t mind at all, not if it kept her close to Jennifer. Once Delia’s legs were secured together, Jennifer adjusted the wheelchair, bringing the footrest upward, locking it into place. She then secured another pair of straps around Delia’s ankles and thighs, then her waist, and finally her chest, keeping her in the chair. All the while Jennifer’s fingers brushed against Delia, pressed lightly, almost teasingly, into her latex-covered flesh. Delia felt another wave of sadness overtake her as Jennifer stood, walking out of sight behind her.
“Such a well-behaved patient you are, Miss Emmerson,” Jennifer said in an approving tone.
“T-thank you,” Delia said, not sure what else she could say, not without sounding like she wanted Jennifer to jump upon her and do so many naughty things to her body. “Damn it, Delia, get a grip! You’ve never been like this before! As nice as the latex feels, you shouldn’t be fawning like a schoolgirl in heat over Jennifer Tempest! Wait! The latex doesn’t feel good, you don’t like this! Get those thoughts out of your head!”
The wheelchair rolled a moment later, and Delia soon saw herself in the mirror again, Jennifer standing tall, regally, behind the chair. Then her hands were upon Delia’s shoulders, squeezing them reassuringly at first, then again, softer…like a massage. “I have to place another hood on you, Miss Emmerson. This will necessarily limit your vision and hearing. It is also fitted with a gag to make sure that you don’t injure yourself, and that will ensure proper feeding in your cell. You’re okay with that, aren’t you?” The way she asked it was entirely too sweet, yet with a confidence that made it seem more of a statement of fact.
“Oh, um, y-yes, o-of c-course, Jen- um Mist-re…uh…doct-,” Delia said, stumbling and bumbling her words, not entirely sure what was going through her head. Had she almost called Jennifer ‘mistress’? No, she had just stumbled over trying to say ‘Miss Tempest’…hadn’t she? Yes, that was it…it had to be!
Jennifer’s eyes were smiling at Delia through the mirror again, and Delia squirmed in the chair. Lifting a hand, Jennifer patted the side of Delia’s head. “I usually prefer Director Tempest, Miss Emmerson. Perhaps later we can explore that little Freudian slip, hmm?”
“Y-yes, Director,” Delia replied, a slight whimper escaping her as she squirmed in the seat of the wheelchair. She felt hot and sweaty now and licked her lips anxiously, the latex that covered her creaking against the chair. Jennifer had disappeared from sight for a moment, but when she returned, she had another white latex item in hand and tapped the control on her belt, the collar’s tight grip around Delia’s neck easing.
Jennifer came to Delia’s side, holding the hood up for her to see. It was white on the outside, aside from the dark lenses over the eyes, with a pair of nose holes and a round hole where the mouth was supposed to be. It looked smooth otherwise. Jennifer adjusted it in her hands, inverting it slightly, revealing a large phallic-shaped plug on the inside where the mouth was, the sides of it bulging in a way that made Delia think of a pair of testicles, as well as additional padding in the general shape of a person’s ears, and what looked like attached ear plugs inside the padding.
Any anxiousness faded from Delia the moment Jennifer’s free hand grasped her shoulder again. “This may be a little intense for you, Miss Emmerson, but it won’t last long. This hood will seal with the collar and allow us to control what stimuli you are able to experience, as well as allow for feeding, of course. Are you ready?”
“For so much…anything you want, Jennifer,” Delia thought, eyes turned upward toward the stunning beauty next to her. “Y-yes, Director,” she said, managing to keep her thoughts to herself, but only barely. When Jennifer lowered the plug toward Delia’s lips, she obediently opened her mouth. She’d never experienced a gag like that before, but since it was Jennifer putting the device into her, she was more than okay with bearing it. “Am I really? She’s doing something to you, Delia! Snap out of it, woman!”
She didn’t though, no matter how much that little voice inside her brain wanted her to. Instead, Delia accepted the vaguely-penis-shaped gag into her mouth without protest, the smooth rubber shaft sliding in until it was very nearly at the back of her throat. Delia’s eyes met Jennifer’s, and she felt a shiver go through her. She didn’t need to be told to open wider; she simply knew that she had to…for her. So Delia did so, forcing her jaw a bit wider, letting Jennifer’s fingers push the bulbous sides of the gag between Delia’s teeth. Once past her lips, it almost felt as though they popped into place inside Delia’s cheeks, filling them almost to the point of being painful.
Moaning softly as she fought a sudden urge to gag, the tip of the large, mouth-filling device brushing the back of her throat, Delia closed her eyes as Jennifer tugged the hood up, smoothing it over her face and head, stepping around her to pull the sides together at the back of Delia’s head. She felt more than heard the zipper as it was pulled downward, tightening the hood, felt the nubs of the attached earplugs pressing against her ears, but was unable to penetrate the first hood. Jennifer’s fingers tugged at the collar, easing the base of the hood around the edges of the device. Delia opened her eyes, blinked a few times, and realized that she could barely see; everything was so dark now behind those lenses.
Jennifer’s face appeared in front of her, making Delia groan around the gag once again. “This part may be a little startling, but it will be over in a moment,” Jennifer said, her voice muffled. Delia sucked in her breath as Jennifer stood.
Delia barely heard the beep at her neck as the collar was reactivated and grew tighter again, then let out a faint squeal as the second hood was suddenly drawn more firmly around her head. The second hood somehow felt as though it was bonding with the original, something like a vacuum seal. She felt it pressing around her head, gagged as the thing filling her mouth was pressed just a hair deeper, then inflated, the bulbs in her cheeks growing larger, almost painfully so before they stopped. Then she felt the earplugs pressing into her ear canals, silencing everything around her. Finally, it was done, the collar just as tight as it had been before, but the world much darker and silent beyond.
A whimper escaped around the massive gag, which indeed had a feeding hole, for Delia drew breath through it. She saw indistinct movement in front of her, felt hands on her thighs, and knew it was Jennifer. “You handled that very well, Miss Emmerson.” Jennifer’s voice penetrated the silence as clear as a bell, low and sultry. “The worst is over…for now. Shall we get you to your room?”
That sounded ominous, but Delia didn’t care; if that’s what Jennifer wanted, then that’s what Delia wanted, too. Delia moaned softly, quivering as Jennifer’s fingers trailed up her leg and over her tightly restrained arms and then up her collared neck and over her smooth, latex-covered head. She felt the wheelchair moving then and squinted through the dark lenses, getting only the vaguest outlines of what she saw.
“I don’t know if you realized this, but your uniform doesn’t have a patient ID on it. I didn’t want to commit to something until we knew you were staying with us,” Jennifer said. “It would be so very easy for paperwork to get misplaced, Miss Emmerson. Why, a person could disappear within the confines of my facility for a long, long time.”
Delia felt another shiver go through her, but this one was different. This one seemed to penetrate the inexplicable infatuation she had felt towards Jennifer. Delia tried to twist her head around to look at the woman walking behind her, but couldn’t thanks to the tight, high collar. She squirmed in the chair, tugging at the straps holding her to it. She was suddenly sweating and then squealed as a fearful twinge coursed through her. “She’s going to make me disappear! Oh god, what have I gotten myself into?!”
“Why…I could keep you inside that hood and restraint suit indefinitely with how it was designed; Specialist Leopard does amazing work, you know; she has such a remarkable talent. Do you remember that old story, The Man in the Iron Mask? I could do the very same thing with you, Miss Emmerson…The Patient in the Latex Hood? How does that sound?” Jennifer’s voice had changed and taken on a hungry, seductive quality. “Oh my, such a concept, that…”
Only vaguely aware of her surroundings, Delia tugged at the straitjacket, squirming and grunting, squealing again. She felt the sensation of an elevator moving downward, then felt a hand rest on her head, another patting her cheek. “Do calm down, Miss Emmerson,” Jennifer said, her voice back to its more neutral, calming tone, though still sounding quite commanding. “I would never do something like that. It goes against everything this facility stands for. Hmmm, well, I suppose if there were ever someone willing to undergo such a thing, I may perhaps consider it…”
A confused whimper came from Delia as she settled back into the wheelchair, feeling herself trying to press her cheek more firmly against Jennifer’s hand, not unlike a cat who was getting a petting. “She could absolutely do that to me…but she wouldn’t…she wouldn’t…would she? No, she…but would it really be such a bad thing? I would be close to Jennifer, could keep an eye on things in the facility…but how could I get the details out? Would I even want to? Oh, to be so close to Jennifer, to be at her mercy, in her care forever! No, no, no! Get your head out of whatever screwed-up fantasy you’re trying to go to, Delia Emmerson! You need to be very careful, keep your head on straight, and get the dirty facts out to the public! You can still ruin this place, and ruin Jennifer Tempest! But… why would I want to do that? Just being around her makes me feel so…so excited. I would never do anything that she didn’t want me to…I’d even disappear for her… No, you wouldn’t! Don’t you dare think that! Don’t you dare…”
Her thoughts were in a chaotic mess, bouncing around in her head, Delia barely realized that the chair had come to a stop until Jennifer’s hand touched her shoulder, the sudden sensation feeling like a spark of electricity, making her jump. “We’ve arrived, Miss Emmerson. Let’s get you settled in for the night.”
Better late than never, eh? Been a long afternoon, evening, and night driving and shopping with the family, so I’m feeling ready for bed right now, lol.
Well, things have certainly gotten heated, and Delia has found herself in a bit over her head. Long-time readers of mine may recognize some familiar characters from previous works who belong to a couple of fellow artists on DeviantArt. ‘Specialist Leopard’ may be familiar to some of you, though this is the first time she’s used that particular name; more to come with her soon enough ;). As the story implies, she’s related to the Tempest family, Jennifer and Maria in particular. The Tempests are JakTheRenegade / TheLairVerse’s characters, though he’s given me permission to bring them into my Supers setting and to do my own take on them. Jennifer is rather similar to her original self, though I have some changes in mind for the Tempest family here. Their original concept as a mafia-like family will be coming to the forefront sooner or later.
For now though, Jennifer is quite content in using her succubus nature to toy with Delia. She has no clue just how much trouble she’s really in, though she’s going to find out soon enough!
Stay tuned for the next exciting and kinky installment, coming on Wednesday!
Kinktober Keywords
Cornered/Nurse
Psycho/Crying
Escape/Alien
Stealth/Armbinder
Asylum/Straitjacket
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Till next time, Urban out!
