Dimensions of Dementia
by J. Darksong
part 1

Newsflash! A patient has escaped from the Bellevue Mental Hospital! Thirty-one
year old inmate Jacob Thorton, found missing from his room one week ago, is
believed to have escaped sometime last Monday night during the security guard
shift change. Thorton, a former psychologist at his own local practice, was
abducted last year by one of his patients, kidnapped, beaten, and tortured.
Police finally rescued the doctor, and subdued the abductor, but the
experience left the doctor traumatized. Thorton was sent to a former colleague
to undergo psychiatric treatment, but when he attacked and seriously wounded
several people in a rage, he was sent to Bellevue. Jacob Thorton is listed as
clinically insane, and extremely dangerous. If anyone sees Dr. Thorton, please
contact your local police immediately. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT attempt to
apprehend him yourself...
Chapter I. Miss Barbara Ann Gordon
"Do you see what they're saying about me on television, my dear?" Jacob sighed
wearily, resting his feet on the coffee table. "Am I REALLY such a bad guy?
Honestly! I mean, you've been with me the past three days. Do I seem like such
an ogre to you?" He waited a moment for her to respond, then shook his head. "I
suppose I really SHOULD take my cock out of your mouth if I expect you to
answer. After all, its bad manners to talk with your mouth full." Jacob moved
away from the bound and tied girl, who sat there, glassy eyed, her head still
bobbing forward, as if still sucking his cock. Only after he snapped his fingers
in front of her face did her facial expressions show any signs of life. She
blinked, then blinked again, then she began to scream.
Jacob laughed. "Well, I guess that's my answer. Alright my dear, calm down now.
Calm down... and stop screaming, or I'll be forced to have you undergo the
treatment once again." Abruptly the girl went quiet, shuddering slightly. "Good
girl, I see you have been paying attention to your lessons. Okay, class," he
said gesturing to the otherwise empty room, "it's Quiz Time! Let's check and see
how well you have learned your lessons. Okay.... hmmm let's see. Who do I call
on today. Who, who, who? " When the girl remained silent, Jacob walked over to a
switch on the side of the wall and pulled it, sending a jolt of electricity
through the grillwork of the platform the girl was bound to. She screamed again,
thrashing hysterically, trying to avoid contact with the power discharge. Jacob
turned the switch off, and walked back to the platform. "Oh, a volunteer!" he
said cheerfully. Then he frowned. "YOU again? You answered the last seven times
that I announced a pop quiz. Why don't you give some of your classmates a chance
to answer this time?"
"Because..." the girl panted, sweat dripping down her face, "there... ARE NO
OTHER CLASSMATES... you crazy sadistic BASTARD!!" She regretted it as soon as
she said it, and were she able to move her hands, she would have covered her
mouth. Jacob did not yell at her, or threaten her, or seem angry at her outburst
in any way, and that frightened the hell out of her. If there was one thing
Barbara had learned over the past week, it was that the mad professor was
unpredictable in his mood swings. When he showed his anger, at least then she
knew what to expect. When she angered him and he smiled back at her, then she
had reason to worry.
Jacob shook his head softly. "BZZZT! Wrong answer. I'm sorry, the judges say you
forgot to phrase that in the form of a question." The pulled the lever again,
and again Barbara began to scream as her body was wracked with voltage-induced
pain. He let it go on for several minutes, then flipped the switch back closed
again. "Okay, Barb, enough fun and games. Let's cut to the chase."
Tear-streaked, her face twitching from anticipated pain, even though the device
had been shut off, she looked up at him. "Why... are you doing this.. to me?
What do you want?"
"AH! Finally, an intelligent question. Frankly my dear, I was beginning to
wonder if you had the capacity for rational conversation. First of all, the WHY.
Why am I doing this to you? Simple. Because I can. Because it gives me a real...
charge. Excuse the pun." He laughed maniacally for a moment or two. "Secondly,
WHAT. What do I want? What do I hope to accomplish with all of this. THAT
question is actually slightly more complex. I am basically experimenting on you,
probing your psyche, studying your mind, to see how you react to different
stresses and strains on your system. Being a doctor, I have always been
fascinated with exploring the human mind, but there were always limits to what
you could do, a moral line that separated extensive experimentation and testing.
But that is all in the past. A very talented and sadistic young patient of mine
showed me that there ARE no true boundaries in life, that the only limitations
are set within one's own mind! He actually did me a favor. He helped me shatter
my own boundaries, my old way of thinking. He helped make me into the man I am
"And... what happened to him?" Barbara asked, hesitantly.
Jacob laughed. "Why, I thanked him by disemboweling him the day I got out of the
hospital. You should have seen the look on his face, BOY was HE surprised!"
Barbara shuddered despite herself. Times like this, she almost wished he would
leave her in her near-mindless state, completely docile, mesmerized, and under
his complete control. At least then her mind wouldn't be subjected to such
fiendish stories, and her body tortured to the limit of her endurance. He was
mad, that much was obvious, but he was also a genius, and there was a definite
method to his madness. He was doing something to her, messing with her mind, she
only wished she knew how. Barbara only hoped that she would last until someone
found her.
"Okay, enough about me," the doctor said, sitting down in his chair beside the
bed. "Time to check on your progress. Tell me about your past, everything from
your childhood up until just now when I awakened you."
Barbara sighed deeply. She had told him the story enough times in the past week,
so much so that she almost knew it all word by word now. She suspected that this
was also part of his mad plan, but again, she couldn't understand how telling of
her past could have anything to do with anything else. Taking a deep breath, she
began once again.
"As I've said before, my name is Barbara Ann Gordon. My mother and father..."
she nearly choked on the words as she thought of her parents, wishing she were
with them right now. "My parents... were the children of very successful
business investors back in the nineteen thirties and forties, and managed to
amass a sizable fortune. They, in turn, continued that tradition, turning from a
very well-to-do family to an extremely wealthy one, through continued wise
investing. The world I was born into was that of a pampered princess, with a
nanny and butler to care for me, plenty of servants to see to my every whim, and
enough money to provide me with anything I could possibly want. Despite the way
most successful rich parents tend to push their children off on the servants to
raise, my parents delighted in raising me, giving me their values, impressing
upon me their ideals of hard work and patience, and the drive to succeed. I grew
up in a very loving family environment."
She paused, as the doctor sat in his chair, writing busily on a notepad. "Yes,
yes, all very good. Continue please."
"Okay... um, two years ago, I graduated from high school, and was accepted to
attend Princeton. Everything was going well. I had made several friends, my
teachers all liked me, I had a steady three point eight grade point average...
all in all, everything was going perfectly." She glanced up at her tormentor.
"Then one day, exactly a week ago, I got into my BMW to head home after a late
night study session at the library, only to find someone waiting in my car. You.
You... injected me with a needle of something... and before I knew what was
happening, I am driving down the road, following your directions, back to this
warehouse. And I have been here ever since."
"Yes, very good," Jacob said smiling, clapping his hands. "That was just
excellent. It seems that you remember exactly what happened before arriving
here. I want you to cherish those memories, my dear. Cherish them... because I
am going to erase them from you."
Barbara gaped at him incredulously. "Take away my memories? You can't do that!
Are you---" A hand to her mouth quickly silenced her.
"Crazy. I believe that's the word you were looking for, Barbara, my dear. And,
yes, we have already been through all that. Remember, me, escaped from a mental
institution, blah blah blah, tortured and tormented you, blah blah blah. Clearly
I am not in my right mind. But, I'll let you know a secret." He leaned close to
her, his grinning face inches away from her panic-stricken one. "Pretty soon,
neither will you!"


Dr. Jacob Thorton sat in his easy chair, glancing at his notes. In actuality, he
had scribbled nothing on the note pad, nothing at all, but he continued to frown
and look at the pad as if the blank lines held some special meaning to him.
Finally, Barbara's moans brought his attention back to the present and he
smiled. "Ah, you're awake again. Good. We can continue. I was just checking my
notes here, and I must say, you've made excellent progress. Pretty soon, we will
have you thinking with the right mental attitude."
"The... right... mental attitude?" the confused girl asked numbly.
"Yes. Exactly. I am doing you a great service, releasing your mind from its
rather traditional way of thinking. Too many borders, too many limits. I'm
trying to help you reach the same enlightenment that I have achieved. But first
things first. As the song says, 'Free your mind, and the rest will follow'. Now,
let's take this by the numbers once again."
Suddenly Barbara began to thrash, pulling violently on her bindings. "NO!!
NOOOO!! Let me go, LET ME GOOOOO!! No more numbers!! PLEASE!! NO MORE!! NO
"Shush! Quiet down, now, you can't hear me counting if you make so much noise.
And you know how intense these sessions can be if I am forced to gag you as
well." After a moment more of struggling, Barbara went limp, tears streaking
down her face, as she gave in to the inevitable. "There, that's a good girl.
Just keep thinking... it's all to HELP you."
At those words, a trigger went off in Barbara's mind. Her eyes went wide, then
glassy. "All... to help.. me... for my own good... all to help me..." she began
to whisper softly to herself. Jacob smiled wickedly.
"Alright, here we go. By the numbers. ONE."
Barbara stiffened. The madman was there, straddling her naked body, beating her,
hitting her with closed fists about her head and body, bruising her, smashing
her rib cage, breaking her bones with his devastating blows. She tried to cry
out, but the pain was stifling, intense, too string to ignore. She felt a kind
of numbness begin to overtake her, the beating taking on the qualities of a deep
thumping coming from somewhere far away. She felt her eyes flutter closed. She
was being slowly beaten to death...
"AH!!" she gasped, glancing around herself. She was back at home, lying naked on
her bed. Her body was whole and unblemished, the prior experience merely a
phantom of her mind. She stretched, glancing down at her lover, who smiled
warmly. Barbara giggled to feel her mother's teeth gently pricking her thighs as
she began to eat her out. "Oh, mommy... yes, mommy. Lick your sweet little
girl," Barbara sighed with pleasure. She SO loved being awoken this way...
Barbara screamed. The fiery poker placed against her chest had left a raw red
mark. The Royal Inquisitor looked down at her darkly, gesturing to the Torture
Master to hold off for a while. "Mine child, this will all end if you confess to
being a witch. Here in the town of Salem, we pride ourselves on being very
open-minded. Just confess, my child, and thy sins will be forgiven, and we will
free you from this torture." Barbara shook her weary head in denial. She
couldn't speak even if she wanted to, for the first torture she had experienced
had been the removal of her tongue. Her bloody, battered body throbbed from the
mistreatment, and as she pulled weakly at the bindings she felt, rather than
saw, the Torture Master step close once again. "She STILL resists salvation!"
the Royal Inquisitor bellowed angrily. "Finish your work. But make sure she
continues to live a while longer!" Nodding his assent, the black clad figure
raised the white hot poker again, this time to Barbara's eyes. Barbara felt the
heat and began to scream and scream and scream...
THUNK. "AHHH!" she yelled out, indignant. The small paddle against her rear sent
sparks of lusty fire into her loins. Master Benjamin well enjoyed adding a
little spice to the daily fucks with a bit of spanking now and again. Barbara
wiggled her naked little ass, already beginning to shine with a rosy red glow.
The leather harness bit exquisitely into her naked flesh, and the double straps
opening her mons, keeping her pussy lips open for her Master's pleasure teased
her throbbing clitty with every movement. The paddle and her Master did not
disappoint her, as another heavy blow fell. THUNK. THUNK. THUNK. Barbara felt
her juices trickle forth, teasing her pussy even more, dripping down her
gartered thighs, and down her stocking clad legs, leaving a small puddle on the
floor. And to think, she hadn't even been allowed to CUM yet. Barbara though
giddily, When I finally am allowed to cum, I may flood the entire rec room...
slut barbara groaned, as she felt herself stretching, stretching, trying her
best to accommodate the heavy stone phallus being slid into position between her
thighs. The nipple clamps throbbed wonderfully against her peaking nipples,
blue-brown with bruises from the intense pinching and biting they had endured
beforehand. The bruises did not matter to slut barbara, however, for she was
only a nameless slut, an automaton, a device for her Masters pleasure. If it
amused Them to torment and humiliate her, then she was pleased to serve Them in
such a way. Finally, the stone prick slid into her, slut barbara arching her
hips to take it in to the hilt. The slightly smaller one in her ass seemed to
warm at the nearness to its twin in her pussy. A whip cracked across her naked
back, and slut barbara began to wiggle her hips, gyrating to the low deep music
played in the background. Patrons at the club began to cheer and throw money
onto the stage, and one of her Masters began to pick it up gleefully. slut
barbara smiled, licking her lips. It felt so GOOD to please her Masters...
Barbara tried to run, but the man was stronger, faster, than she. She was pushed
roughly to the ground, and when she tried to resist further, he hit her. Hard.
Blood dripped from her lips, and she though a tooth had cracked. She whimpered
as the masked man ripped her clothes, exposing her. She shuddered. "Please sir,
please!" she begged timidly. "I'll give you anything you want, anything. All my
money, its in my purse, take it! Please... just don't hurt me!"
"SHADDUP! You fucking BITCH!" he snarled, slapping her again. "I'll take
whatever I want from you, bitch, and right now, I want that hot little pussy!"
He ripped the rest of her clothes off, sliding off his pants as well, and
despite Barbara's struggles, her legs were pinned apart, and his mammoth cock
slammed into her.
"OHHHH!!" she screamed, as she was violated, her virginity taken away, brutally,
gone by a man she didn't love, an unknown rapist. He repeatedly fucked and
fucked her bloody pussy, grinding his meat into her, but Barbara's mind was no
longer there. Her sightless eyes had glazed over, trapped in the horror of what
she had lost...
"Woo hoo!!" she cried, tumbling into Christy, her best friend and lover. The
blonde beauty smiled and helped her back to her feet.
"I think you've had enough partying for one day, Barb," she said with a grin.
"You are totally wasted."
"Am not," Barb protested drunkenly, wobbling unsteadily. "I know very very...
very very very very well... how to hold my liquor." The other girls laughed.
Hearing their infectious laughter, Barbara joined in as well. "Heh hehehehehe...
um... what are we laughing at? Tee heee hehehe.."
"Come on, Barb. It's time we headed back to our dorm room. You DO have that test
coming up that you wanted to study for, after all."
"Fuck that! Fuck studying," she said loudly, causing another round of giggles
from the girls. "Fuck college! Fuck, fuck FUCK fuck fuck!" Barbara giggled,
nearly falling over into Christy again. "And most of all, FUCK all of you! All
of you, every single one."
Christy licked her lips, and walked over to Barbara, kissing her passionately.
"You know, Barb, that's a very good idea." She, and the other girls, began
removing their clothes, much top Barb's delight and surprise. "Now Barbara,
dear, its time to put up, or shut up. You're gonna have to eat out every one of
my little pussy licking friends here, and then we'll ALL return the favor. What
do you say? Are you up to the challenge?"
"Hell FUCK yesss!" Barbara slurred, as she pushed Christy to the floor, diving
between her legs, licking and lapping her cunt like there was no tomorrow...
"NO!! Pleeeeeaassseee!! staaahahahahahahaaapp!! Get them off, get them off!!
hahaha hahahahaha!! The rats the RAAATTTSS!! Hahahahaha!!" Barbara thrashed and
laughed, shaking hysterically as her bare feet were tickled most deviously. Some
unknown person had trapped her in this dungeon, and strapped her to the rack,
fully clothed, except for her shoes. The rack had been tilted downward, however,
so that the myriad hundreds of squealing squeaking vermin scurrying along the
floor could just reach her bared feet. Their furry bodies scurrying about,
running back and forth, tickled her so intensely that she had wet her bladder
twice already. Their tiny little whiskers made her toes twitch when they stroked
them, and their sinewy slender tails made her toes clench as they stroked her
poor arches. She felt as if she would go insane if this torture kept up. It was
her two biggest fears: being tickled... and rats. God, how she HATED rats! Now
they were crawling over her bare feet, tickling them endlessly, her body
strapped down, unable to move an inch. She had no idea how long she had been
down here, minutes, hours, days... time had no meaning when you were held
captive in the dark and tortured endlessly without mercy.
Strangely, the rats never bit her. They were content to flutter back and forth
across her twitching bare feet, squealing and squeaking amidst her own devilish
shrieks or despair. Her entire body throbbed with the unfulfilled desire to
escape, to get away no matter the cost, yet all she could do was endure, more
devilish tickling, and more and more rats... crawling, scurrying, tickling..
tickling... ALWAYS tickling...
She was back in the warehouse now. No rats. No Masters with whips. No drunken
lesbian soriety girls. Just her, and her tormentor, standing before her holding
a knife. She knew somehow that he had made her imagine all of those things, that
none of it had been real at all, yet she panted with fear and terror, having
experienced every memory, every sensation, as if it had just happened. She
opened her mouth to speak, but found herself gagged once again. The man walked
towards her slowly, holding a shiny knife in his hand, its keen edge glittering
in the shadowy, dimly lit room. She began to struggle, knowing somehow, that
this would be the end, that it was all over for her now. She mumbled
incoherently, the gag preventing her even from begging for her life. She looked
up into his face now, and gasped, seeing him wearing white face paint and a red
rubber nose.
He had made himself up to look like a clown.
She shook her head in denial as the evil clown held up the knife for her to see.
Then, he brought it down, hard and fast, into her thigh, twisting it, before
bringing it back up for her to see, its keen edge now dripping with crimson
blood. Her blood. Her thigh screamed its pain as she watched him drive down the
knife again and again, stabbing her, slashing her, cutting her flesh in a frenzy
of beserker rage, her own cries of terror drowned out by the gag. Moments later,
her naked body was a crisscross network of open bloody gashes, and deep bubbling
geysers of blood. She gasped breathlessly, her lungs penetrated somewhere in the
fifth or sixth blow, and gazed up at her murderer, feeling her life dripping
away in a fountain of scarlet with every passing second. The clown shook his
head sadly, as if in regret, then suddenly smiled. And drew the knife blade
across her throat in one last vicious slash---
At which point, Barbara promptly passed out. Jacob shook his head. "Not bad. You
managed to make it through all twenty steps of your therapy. I think we are
progressing very well, my dear. A few more days of this and we'll have you
thinking right in no time." He walked over and kissed the girl softly, as she
slept soundly, the last of her imprinted memories fading back into oblivion. He
gently slid the covers over her bound naked body, and went into the adjoining
room to watch television.
He hoped he hadn't missed the afternoon cartoons.