disciple (ch. 17)

by Tom Stuckey

17

There was something holy about my room, no, that’s not right - liberating - that’s the word. The door was left unlocked, it wasn’t a prison, unless you took a turn and the doors then had to be for yours and others safety. The doors to the main building, however, were locked - naturally - and this made choices limited, and in the absence of choice, something deep inside had given up. I thought I’d try some Autogenic training, so pressed play on the CD player. A women’s voice started describing what Autogenic training was in what seemed like a forced calm voice, she went on and on until I began to feel myself want to shout at her to get on with it, then she said, “OK, take three deep breaths allowing the lungs to fill, and breath out making a sighing sound, HHHHHHHH. She made a sound like an excited rapist, that un-nerved me but I did what she said. I followed her through the head with my attention and into the chest, and then the pelvis and then the legs - all while silently chanting, I AM HEAVY, I AM PEACEFUL, I AM WARM. The way she said WALM WALMM WALMMM felt relaxing so I decided to record some stories, The first was about a world where machines had somehow managed to harvest our imagination through handheld devices, but I stopped once I realised it had already been made a reality. The second was where the insane had taken over all major world governments and there was a major threat of nuclear war, then I stopped because I realised it had already manifested itself into reality. The third was a simple porno sketch where a psychiatrist, having warmed to her clients charms, a modest writer, decided to break the invisible boundaries between her reality and his. She started to see that just because something appeared not real it didn’t mean he was any less of a potential mate, and after her initial fears had started to subside she began to notice his body parts, like his thick fore arms and neck. She had been for a run the morning of their session and she often, weather it was the bouncing of her body in the tight leggings or the friction that it caused on her pussy or the endorphins that made it so, she looked at his forearms in their session. She thought about him holding her head forcefully as she struggled to breath properly with his cock in her mouth. The fact that he was classified insane made this undoubtably more exciting, but she knew him enough by now to know that he would let her head move back along his cock just enough to get some air into her lungs before he held her down for some more. This complete abandon to a sexual affair did not come doubt-free, she began to seriously doubt her practises, having let go somewhat of her credentials, she had worked hard to become a respectable member of society, could this still be maintained? Could she hide this new and intoxicating inner world within herself, whilst visions of the man bending her over at her desk and not letting her up until she had been penetrated to the point of climax? Going further into her backstory would take some time and need to be developed with care, there was obviously something about her character that had led her to want such carnal desires, that had not been addressed. It was becoming clear that even the respectable members of society were perverts too, it was just weather they could keep it hidden inside them or not. This last story was more believable and frankly more enjoyable so I took a break and decided to go back to it, it was always good to leave a story on a precipice. Would she be caught?

The rest of the day was as quiet as a dream, there were people who shuffled around, nurses, doctors and patients, but we all seemed in a stasis. I knew from experience that these quiet periods in a place like this is often followed by outbursts of highly violent activity, it was just a matter of time and in what form it would take, and at precisely 6pm it came in the form of Billy. So Billy the kid, looked only 20, short, good looking and muscular for his size arrived by ambulance having been processed and sedated in the emergency department of the hospital, but the sedation had either worn off, or he had been pretending to be sedated until he could take his chance of escape. Escape was the only thing that occupied Billys waking thoughts, he was born for it. We ate our chicken dinners as Billy rode the tables around us, bucking from one to another as the staff tried to get a hold on him. There was a protocol for this, he would need to be sedated again and put into isolation for his and everyone else’s safety. We were onto our pudding of rice before they even managed to touch Billy, and it came in the form of mass, the security had been called and there were simply too many of them, inevitably he ran into a big round security man who managed to hold his tee-shirt that ripped a little showing his excellent physique, until another held him also. Billy bucked and screamed, and was stronger than either of the frankly unfit security men, but as they surrounded him, they smothered his will all the same. They took him to the isolation room, thick, padded and dark, and held him down whist Dr. Richards gave him a shot. The screams faded but not for what seemed like a long, long time. He would have to wait at least another few days until he could try to escape again.  

*Read the next instqallment of Tom Stuckey’s new novella Disciple coming on May 12, 2026, at 6PM CST.

Photo of Tom Stuckey

BIO: Tom is a writer from Devon in England.  His work can be found at A Thin Slice of Anxiety, Bristol Noir, Nut House Press, and Pulp Magazine. He is the author of The Canary in the Dream is Dead and The Sun Marches upon Us All. Learn more about Tom Stuckey at www.tomstuckey.com.