Prison Therapy

“So this is just like a private practice, just with felons,” the Warden explained to the young psychologist. He frowned, vaguely worried that she was too young and too pretty for what she was going to be asked to do but they could only afford people straight out of school. Once a therapist built up their own clients, got their own practice going, the idea of working with felons in a state penitentiary was not exactly appealing.

The brunette nodded enthusiastically, “Great and again this buzzer brings in security?”

“Right, have it on you at all times. Press it and we come in, but due to patient confidentiality, we can’t monitor these sessions. You feel at all uneasy call in the guards. We’ll also leave some patients shackled and handcuffed to ensure your safety,” he said.

Doctor Patricia Cartwright nodded, smiled and tried to appear enthusiastic about this. She had imagined her own practice, had even priced out offices for a while until it had become obvious that without building up a savings account she wasn’t going to be able to afford it. Joining an established practice would require a few years of work history and so here she was at a prison.

The Warden sighed, these doctors never really lasted. They got burnt out, or got good jobs and left. Hopefully, this one would stick around for a while, she was easy on the eyes in a prison where it was largely only men or older women working.

For the first two months, she had no need for the buzzer. The patients were mainly men who had slipped up. A number of them were drug offences and had troubled childhoods filled with trauma. It was actually much more normal than Patricia had expected, the kind of work that some of her classmates were doing. Almost uniformly they were polite, with only a few objectionable and objectifying comments.

The Warden called her into his office midway through her third month.

“Tomorrow you’re going to have a new patient. James Madison,” he said, sliding a file to her.

“Umm, like the President?”

“Yes, but no relation that I know of. He was convicted for armed robbery and is quite the piece of work. He took a policewoman as a hostage during his getaway, and... “ he frowned and looked uncomfortable, “well I’m sure you’re aware of Stockholm Syndrome. She ended up being shot during his arrest after she tried killing the SWAT team.”

“I’ve got my buzzer, Sir, I’ll be fine,” the doctor said.

“Well, okay. I just wanted to warn you,” he said.

James Madison, the convict not the President, was a tall muscular man. Good looking, in a way that Patricia Cartwright didn’t usually go for. Her current boyfriend had a manbun and wore vests and looked like if Mister Rogers opened an indie record store. Madison was clearly not that.

The guards locked him into place on the couch, and Doctor Cartwright sat on a chair out of arm's’ reach. She nodded to the guards, and they filed out.

“Nice tits, but I’ve seen better,” Madison said once the door was closed.

“Hmm, well if you want to start with adolescent negging, that’s fine,” the doctor said, “let’s get it out now. Want to say anything about my ass?”

“Nah, it’s only a six out of ten and that’s only because I’ve been in prison for a month. On the outside it’s a three,” he said and grinned.

Cartwright rolled her eyes, it was an obvious ploy to get her to feel like she needed to compete or prove herself for him. It was the sort of psychology that pick-up artists charged horny teenagers for online and it was hardly going to work on her.

“Well, let’s start then,” she said and settled in for the first session.

It was three months later that the Warden visited her in her office, “Madison is up for transfer to a supermax. That’s dependent on your report though. If he’s making progress here, he’ll stay here. If he’s not, then he’ll be taken upstate, that means less freedom for him. But he’s a dangerous felon, so unless there’s some hope of improvement that won’t matter.”

“So I have to write up a report?” Patricia asked.

“Yes. Short one. Just if he’s cooperating and making progress, that’s all. You’ll have three more sessions with him before that happens,” the Warden explained.

The next session was the first that Madison did not start off by insulting her or commenting on her tits.

“I see you’ve heard I’m doing a report on you,” Patricia said, enjoying that he was actually not harassing her for once.

“Yeah. So I wanna work on this. Get your rubber stamp of approval,” he said.

“What does it matter to you? You’ve said that you’re happy here, you’ve not been working towards parole or even trying to get a lighter sentence,” she asked.

“Supermax, they don’t send psychologists there, it’s a dead end. Besides I’ve made some enemies, probably get killed there, plus we’ve got a good thing going, you and me,” he said.

Doctor Cartwright laughed, “That’s what you call this? A good thing?”

“Face it, you lay awake at night touching yourself thinking about me. Bet when you fuck your girlfriend you think of me,” he said.

She rolled her eyes, “It’s a boyfriend and no.”

“Well, I think of you when I whack off,” he said, “every time I shoot a load of…”

“Alright, I get it. That’s, flattering I guess,” she said waving him off.

“So what do I need to do, to prove that I’m a good boy,” he asked.

“Well, if you really want to try there are a few things we can start doing. I’d like to talk to you about your past, and maybe try to find out what lead you here,” she said, unsure of how sincere this sudden change was.

“Sure, okay doctor. Hypnotize me,” he said.

“I didn’t mention anything about hypnosis, and that’s not really something that I’d do in this situation,” Doctor Cartwright said, surprised at the mention of the therapeutic tool.

“It can help though, make me a good boy,” the felon said, sounding earnest.

“No that’s not really what it is,” she said, “that’s just on TV and stuff. Relaxation techniques could be useful, maybe but…”

Madison laid down on the couch, “I’m relaxing now. Go ahead and head shrink me.”

“Sit up, no this isn’t anything. We’re not on TV,” she said, getting flustered.

“Maybe you need to relax doc,” Madison said, “you seem stressed out.”

Cartwright sighed, “Look let’s just forget hypnosis and do a regular session.”

“I dunno it seemed real to me when I saw it. I was at one of them shows, in Vegas. I was spending some money I stole went to a casino where they had a performer,” he said.

“Yes well that’s something different,” Cartwright sighed.

“Yeah, but this guy he just hypnotized everyone on stage. He just looked into this one lady’s eyes and spoke all calmly and she fell asleep,” Madison said.

The psychologist nodded, “That’s called a focal point, it lets the mind focus on something and pay attention to one thing. Then the hypnotist talks to the other part of the mind, the subconscious.”

“So like the girl was looking into this dude’s eyes, and her mind was focused on his eyes and so her mind didn’t really pay attention to what he was saying to her?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Patricia said meeting Madison’s gaze. As usual, his eyes were hungry, like a lion’s as if he could eat her whole. They were intense in a way that nobody else she’d ever met had eyes like. Even the other violent felons here, being caged seemed to tame them in a way that he hadn’t been.

“And so she just listened to him and nodded and agreed to what he said, because she was focusing only on his eyes,” he said, not really a question.

Still, she answered, “Yes, like that.”

“And the more she looked and the more she agreed the easier it became for her to look more and agree more.”

“Yes.”

“And so it was safe for her to relax, even if she was nervous. Safe because she’s just looking and agreeing.”

“Safe,” agreed the doctor. It was safe, she had her buzzer and he was chained up. So safe here with him.

“Relaxing and listening, that’s important to your job doctor. Relaxing and listening because you want to learn about me. You want to know more about me, so you can just relax and listen to my words,” Madison said.

The doctor nodded slightly, her eyes becoming glassy, “Listen…”

“Good now listen carefully....”

The next session as soon as the door closed Doctor Cartwright expected a comment about her tits. Instead, Madison just sat there, grinning.

“So, you aren’t going to say anything?” she asked, tossing her bra to the floor next to the blouse.

“I mean they’re nice and all, but not a lot of good to me over there,” he said shrugging.

“Look, buddy, I’m writing a report that could send you to supermax, you need to say something nice about my tits,” Patricia said sternly.

“Fine, my cock would feel really good between them, almost as good as between your lips,” he said.

Patricia nodded, “Good. I’m glad we’re making progress and…”

“You’re Safe With Me doctor,” Madison interrupted.

The doctor’s face went slack and she sank back into her chair as her eyes slid closed, her mind open to his words.

“Are you alright doctor?” the Warden asked as he glanced through the file that she had submitted, “You seem, flushed.”

“I’m great, why?”

“Well, I wasn’t expecting such a strong recommendation that Madison remains. Your previous reports have suggested he’s been resisting treatment, and you seem, a bit unkempt which is unusual for you,” he said. The fact that she was not wearing a bra when he had seen her with one on earlier in the day was also notable but he didn’t mention it.

He gestured to the corner of his mouth, indicating that she had a bit of what seemed to maybe be toothpaste or something similarly white and creamy in the corner of hers.

Doctor Cartwright licked it off herself.

“I’m just finding my feet here actually Warden. Feeling more confident and in control,” she explained.

“Right, sure,” he said.

She leaned over his desk, “And I am sure that Madison should remain here. Under my care.”

Failing not to glance down her blouse the Warden nodded, “I’ll make the final decision but, your recommendation goes a long way for his case.”

“You look a little stressed Warden. It’s such a hard job you have, why not just relax, just stare and relax,” she began as she leaned further forward giving him more of a focal point to distract his mind as she spoke.