Sanatorium
by SleepyGirl
Sally was amazed at how long the taxi was taking as it wound its way up the gravel-covered road that was bordered on either side by tall majestic oaks and beech. It must, she guessed, have been nearly a mile since they had passed through the electrically-controlled gates.
Suddenly, as the cab made a final sweeping turn, a large, gothic-looking house came into view. The taxi pulled up in front of the stone steps that rose up to an imposing pair of dark oak doors.
After paying the cabbie, Sally climbed out, her small suitcase in her hand. She looked up at the magnificent five-storey building, topped with crenulations and winged-gargoyles, a circular tower with a conical roof at each corner. Sally felt a shiver run down her spine as she realised that iron bars covered all the windows in the towers.
As the taxi sped away, showering the forecourt with gravel, Sally started to climb the steps to the dark doors, which opened with a languid screech as she approached. From the darkened interior stepped a nurse in a crisp, white cotton dress, a matching cap sitting on her raved-black hair.
“Welcome to the Marshland’s Sanatorium,” the nurse said perfunctorily. “I’m Sister Michaels, and I am guessing you are Miss Williams.”
Sally smiled and replied, “Nice to meet you, and please, call me Sally.”
The nurse’s bright red lips showed no hint of warmth as she retorted, “We like to keep things disciplined here, Miss Williams. Please follow me.”
Not for the first time, Sally wondered whether she had been wise to accept her sister’s offer of a week’s stay at what she’d described as a place of peace and tranquility, where Sally would be able to recover from the bout of stress that had kept her off work for nearly two months. But she was here now, and so she obediently followed the starchy nurse inside.
Once in the hallway, Sally realised it wasn’t as dark and dingy as she’d imagined; sunlight flooded in from a large window halfway up a flight of stairs that dominated the sparsely furnished hall.
“We’ve put you in the Belvedere suite on account of your sister’s recommendation; she was such a good patient when she stayed with us last year. I trust we will be able to say the same of you,” Matron said as she walked to the foot of the stairs, her white stilettos clicking loudly on the marble-tiled floor.
Meekly, Sally followed, and was led to a room on the third floor. The room was spacious, with a four-poster bed, complete with hangings, in the centre, a couch, and a small desk and chair. “I’ll have a meal sent up, we’d prefer it if you stayed in your room until you’ve seen Dr. Harrington.” Sister Michaels said, the merest hint of a smile touching her bright red lips as she mentioned the physician.
Sally smiled too, her sister had told her all about ‘the dreamy Dr Harrington.’ ‘The most gorgeous creature I’ve ever seen,’ was how she had described him, and it was partly for that reason that Sally had agreed to come.
After a very agreeable supper, delivered by ‘Sister Jennings,’ who was almost a carbon-copy of Sister Michaels, Sally tried to read some of the magazines that were on a small bedside cabinet, but soon felt tired, and, not expecting to see the delicious Dr. Harrington this late, decided she would get a good night’s sleep.
Sally woke with a start, a little disorientated, until, with the help of the light from the full moon that shone through the large window, she remembered where she was. She heard a loud gasp followed by soft moaning. At first she thought someone was in pain, but with a blush she realised they were sounds of pleasure, a woman’s unmistakable pleasure.
Quietly, Sally climbed out of bed, pulled on her long silk dressing gown and pressed her ear to the wall. ‘Someone’s certainly having more fun that I am,’ she thought to herself. Although she strained, she could only hear the woman, and Sally guessed she was pleasuring herself, and, by the sound of it, doing it very well!
Sally jumped, as a scream of utter release ripped through the quiet sanatorium. She was about to go back to bed, a tingle in her pussy asking to be answered, when she heard her neighbour plead, “Oh, please don’t go, not yet, please, once more.”
No one answered, but she heard hard footsteps that sounded as if they were heading towards the door. Intrigued, Sally cracked her own door a fraction and peered out into the dimly lit corridor.
She heard the neighbouring door creek open and a dark silhouette appeared. For an instant, Sally thought her eyes were playing tricks, it looked like the mans naked chest was bright red and he was wearing furry trousers, but when he turned towards her and Sally saw the bright red eyes and horns on the top of his head, she screamed loud enough to wake the dead, before she fainted clean away.
“Wake up, Miss Williams, you were having a nightmare,” a soft, comforting voice said as a hand gently shook Sally’s naked shoulder.
Sally sat up, pulling the sheet up to her chin to cover her nakedness. “I wasn’t dreaming!” she protested. “I... I saw the D...Devil coming out of the room next door!”
“Of course you did, Miss.” Sister Michaels said condescendingly, as only a nurse can.
“You were screaming in your sleep, disturbing our other patients,” the Sister continued as she sat on the edge of Sally’s bed and picked up a steel kidney dish covered with a white cloth. She put the dish down on the bed and removed the cover, revealing a small cotton swab and a hypodermic needle.
“What’s that?” Sally queried, pulling the sheet closer. “I thought the sanatorium was all about natural remedies and stuff, not drugs.”
“Oh, this is very natural, I can assure you,” the white-clad nurse replied as she took hold of Sally wrist, her grip surprisingly firm as she straightened Sally’s right arm and swabbed the crook of her elbow. Still holding tightly to Sally’s wrist, Sister Michaels lifted the syringe and pushed the plunger until a small, viscous bead formed at the tip.
“Dr Harrington makes this himself from the liquor of the common pansy,” the nurse explained as she pressed the tip of the needle against a vein in Sally’s arm.
Sally winced as the needle pierced her skin and watched as the nurse pushed the plunger home. “Such a wonderful plant, the pansy,” the sister explained as she pressed the cotton swab to he small hole in Sally’s arm and bent her arm back up to hold it in place.
“It has so many names you know,” Sister Michaels continued. “Shakespeare had Oberon refer to it as ‘love-in-idleness’ when he used its liquor to enchant Titania, making her fall in love with the first creature she saw on waking.”
Sally felt her heart racing and her ears were starting to ring, her vision blurring as Sister Michaels continued. “But here we prefer its more local name; we call it Belle’s Beast, and although old Will was way off the mark with rubbing it on someone’s eyes, it certainly does have at least some of the properties Oberon ascribe to it.”
Through half-closed lids, Sally watched the tip of the nurse’s bright red tongue slide across her berry red lips before she soothed “You feel very sleepy now, don’t you Miss Williams? It is a little earlier than the doctor intended, but I’m sure he won’t mind.”
Sally struggled to stay sitting, but her head was spinning and she let the nurse help her to lie down. “You won’t need this tonight, Miss, it’s so warm,” the nurse said lasciviously as she removed the bedclothes. “That’s right, Miss, you just close your eyes for a little while and the doctor will come and see to you very soon.”
Sally tried to resist the wave of drowsiness that seemed to flow through her body, but the soft voice of the nurse carried her into a dreamless sleep.
“Er, come in?” Sally mumbled in response to the knock at the door, her eyelids almost refusing to open.
“Hello, I’m Dr Harrington, Sally. I’ve come to help make you better,” a deep, sonorous voice said.
Sally tried to sit up, still half asleep, her nakedness forgotten. She blinked and looked up from the doctor’s hooves, past his furry legs, her gaze resting for a moment on the large penis that was already starting to rise. The bright red, muscled torso made her pussy wet with desire, but that desire paled in to insignificance to the thrill she felt as she looked into his glinting red eyes and wondered what those horns would feel like as they brushed her thighs. “Oh, you are beautiful,” she moaned, her legs opening to display her already wet pussy.
With a wicked grin, the incubus took hold of his engorged prick and, as he approached his willing victim, he gloated. “Beautiful, and such a Beast.”