Page 112 of Sinning for Santa

I glare at him, I think. It’s hard to tell with how numb I feel.

“I need to leave,” Islur, hating the way I sound.

“You can leave after your treatment.” He smiles, his dark moustache looking like a caterpillar as he approaches me. “Let’s go to the bathroom, hey. Time to freshen up a bit.”

I shake my head and mutter a no, but he easily takes my arm and leads me off the bed.

“I don’t wanna go pee,” I slur again and he chuckles.

“Yeah you do. You just can’t feel it yet.” He eases me across the room and flicks the light on inside the small bathroom, its fluorescent bright, hurting my eyes.

I flinch away, yet he still leads me in, and before I know it, he turns me, lifts my gown and helps me sit back.

“Where are my undies?” I ask, my head feeling heavy as I try to lift it higher to look at the man as he lowers to his haunches.

“You weren’t wearing any when you came in.” He lifts my gown and peers between my legs. “Besides, you don’t need them here. They just get in the way.”

I feel it then, the brush of his fingers touching between my legs.

“W-what are you doing?”

I lift my hand to try and push him away, but it’s too heavy, and flops back to my side.

“Helping you go to the toilet.” He smiles at me, and I think I frown, because I don’t know why he’d need to touch me there for me to pee. “Can you feel that?”

I do. I feel it, and it doesn’t feel good. I don’t want him touching me there, and I know, even with how dazed I feel, that the press of his fingers to my nub is not needed to help me.

“Stop. Please,” I slur, and he just smiles up at me. “I will stop once you’ve gone to the toilet.”

The hot ache that engulfs my chest every time I cry seeps past the fog clouding me, but not enough to actually get tears to fall. Yet inside, I want to scream.

Just pee, Jaxcen. Then he’ll stop.

Notsure if he meant what he said, I know there’s only one way to find out, so I close my eyes, try to ignore how he touches me and focus on emptying my bladder.

It takes a bit, his fingers distracting me more than I’d like, but eventually, the hot stream starts flowing from me, and he stops, smiling at me like I’ve done a good job.

Mr whoever you are. I would kindly like to take a pen and stab your eye.

When I’m done, I try to clean myself up as best I can, before the perverted nurse helps me up and back out to my room.

My eyes are focused on my bed, so I get a little disoriented when he steers me in a different direction that takes us out of my room and up the passage.

Christmas music. I hear it playing softly through the speakers, but when I glance around, there’s not a decoration in sight. All the bedroom doors are open except for one, and when we slowly pass by, I see the lone silhouette of a female sitting over at the window.

“Where is everyone?” I slur again, trying to look up at the man, but that task combined with walking is all too hard, and I drop my head onto his arm as he leads me.

“It’s only you and Frankie this time of year. Everyone else has gone home for Christmas.”

Frankie? Is that her? The woman sitting in the window that I saw?

I think about asking, but by the time I work the words to my lips, we are walking through another door, and the scent hits me, having more of an effect on me than what I see.

Dr Xavier.

I’ll never forget his scent. It reminds me of stepping into a dentist surgery, mixed with something smokey, like cigars.

I try to stop my feet from moving, but the man leading me just tugs a little harder, forcing me inside to sit me down on a seat at the small round dining table.

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