Dr. White's Code of Sluts Ch. 03 Pt. 01

She wanted Dr. White to view her as an extension of herself. As someone who could be trusted to run things just the way she would, as someone who would do these things without being told. That thought extended to the next patient they discussed. On paper, it was a garden variety case, and to be frank, she was the one patient they had who was most qualified to be treated at a mental health facility. Her name was Carlee Brooks, the daughter of rich parents who lacked the patience or ability to handle her admittedly intense personality disorder. Her violent outbursts and sudden mood-shifts required a level of care they weren't able to give, hence her being committed to a mental health facility. That was all legit. But what got her brought here by Dr. Rosen was the simple fact that she was hot, skinny, and had double F cup tits. Carlee was transferred to this facility not for any specific plot, but to serve a very important role in the ecosystem of the many patients held here. A catalyst. Someone to agitate the status quo. Someone who could rile up the other patients when in common areas. Someone who was hot enough to drive all those other formerly married women crazy with jealousy and further drive home their self-esteem issues. Someone to get all the attention from all the men, employees and patients alike. Despite her often uncontrollably bad behavior towards the other female patients in the psych ward, she was given special treatment, getting better meals, more amenities, more freedoms, all with the express permission of Dr. Rosen. And unlike most of the other women they were treating, Carlee was allowed private visits from outsiders, which she took great advantage of at every opportunity, savoring the fact that even in treatment she had a private place she could go to and have sex with men. Even in her fluctuating mental state, she had plenty of suitors on the outside. But she had a certain charm about her even on the inside, allowing her to seduce men she came across there as well, doctors, caregivers, male patients, even family members of other patients who were allowed the occasional visit. This private room was centrally located in such a way that the other patients always heard her moans.

Dr. White loved this whole scheme that Dr. Rosen had cooked up, praising her subordinate and joining in the fun, always being friendly towards Carlee despite her bad behavior, encouraging her along whenever she saw her. Giving Carlee a knowing glance as they passed by her well-furnished room, they approached a patient that Dr. White was familiar with.

"Ah... how's our little Georgia O'Keefe?" Dr. White asked with a small smirk.

In the room in front of her sat a homely woman with short hair and glasses, seated at a small desk, painting. Her name was Wanda, and how she ended up here was quite a story.

In the aftermath of the Alexandra Regis case, where Dr. White's team was seemingly able to rehabilitate a patient who was criminally dangerous, her hospital had earned the respect of people in some very high places in the criminal justice system, specifically with those who dealt similar patients. That's why her hospital was offered to take a chance on one of the most dangerous female patients currently in custody. Her name was Zara Cassidy, and there were some people who thought of her as one of the most dangerous women in the world. Was she violent? No, not in any grand way to warrant such fear, although she had certainly left some people worse for wear. What made her dangerous was what she said, and the passion with which she said it.

She was a political problem.

She wasn't directly involved in such matters. But she was someone who higher-ups in those fields had grown to fear. She was a thought leader, an influencer, although that term was far too narrow and loaded for what she did. Her message was a scary one to some: to destroy the patriarchy. To make it crumble beneath the power of women. Some tried to classify her as a militant feminist, but to those that knew the dirty details of what she'd gotten up to, they would know she was no such thing, as she was probably an even more dangerous figure to women as she was to men.

This wasn't some loud, abrasive call to arms. This was seductive. A worldview spoken of with a confidence that was so complete that no one could deny it for long. It could slip into your mind like a vapor, enveloping your consciousness until all you could think about was giving her exactly what she wanted.

Zara could destroy people completely. She could get in your head. She could break you down. She could find your weak spots and break you. She could take one look at you and know whether or not she could break you. And so far, she was undefeated. She just had an innate, off-the-charts charisma, and she spoke with a wild, uncontrolled passion that could win even the skeptical to her side. Her silky-smooth voice, one dripping with sex, combined with her perfect diction and mesmerizing eyes meant she could hypnotize even the strongest wills.

It didn't hurt that she was insanely hot. A gorgeous face, plump lips, long silky jet-black hair. Her skin was a perfect golden tan that practically glowed, looking so smooth it would compel you to touch. Long, taut, lithe legs, with firm calves and smooth thighs. Her butt was 10 out of 10, full, and firm and perfectly formed, vaulting out from her body, yearning to be treated roughly. And she had a dynamite pair of massive breasts, bigger than melons, soft and full and firm, jutting out from her fit body like ripe fruit, just BEGGING to be squeezed. God... the things she could make a man do just to get his hands on those perfect, soft, squeezable tits of hers...

With her passionate words and her intense beauty, she gained a massive following while barely trying, sharing her stories online. Talking about all the men she'd seduced, all the fun she'd had. Turns out, people really loved hearing a confident, gorgeous woman talking about every dirty detail of all the nasty sex she had. How she got men curled around her finger, again and again, doing so with such ease and such confidence that it seemed like a rule of nature. How could men be considered superior citizens when not a single one could resist her?

This was her gift. She was so charismatic, so perceptive, and so fucking hot... no one could stand up to her. She could make anyone fall beneath her will because she'd been doing it her entire life. She didn't care about women as a whole destroying the patriarchy. She didn't give the slightest thought to the women who'd been left heartbroken in her wake after their men chose Zara over them. She was no champion of womankind. She was a champion of herself. What she knew is that every single man who ever tried resisting her always crumbled in the end. Married men, confident men, powerful men, unbreakable men... they all bent to her will, proving to be nothing more than a tool for her pleasure. Not one could resist her. And in a world that seemed to favor men over women, this imbalance just seemed laughable. Big, strong men, smart men, tough men... they all collapsed into dust when faced down with Zara Cassidy.

People flocked to her, just wanting to be near her. And with this added attention came some of the unwanted variety. People who feared what she had to say, people who wanted to shut her down, fearing that her worldview would catch on. Unlike most, she welcomed opposition without fear, even offering to meet with her opponents privately to discuss their differences. And every time this happened, their opponents would break, completely crumbling when faced down with Zara's hot body, coming out the other end completely on her side, a passionate follower. Men, women... she could break anyone.

As her influence grew, so did the fear of her. Undercover agents fell to her charms, and her following kept growing. Finally, with no other recourse, charges were ginned up against Zara, accusing her of being the head of a cult, accusing her of fraud, accusing her of crimes, throwing enough shit at her that some stuck, enough to put her away.

But if they thought that would stop her, they again underestimated her. Experts interviewed her, and instead of putting her in jail, with charges that were admittedly tenuous, they instead opted to commit her. A narcissist, no doubt, and possibly even a sociopath, as she used people for her own ends without care or empathy, leaving them in the dust when she was done with them. Besides... she was so sexy, and her body so perfect... seriously, her tits were huge! It was probably best not to put someone as pristine as her in a silly old prison. At least... that's what she was able to convince them to do.

No matter where she was sent, she had a nasty little habit of completely flipping the power dynamic with ease, asserting control and influence over the people supposedly in charge of guarding her. Security guards, other doctors... they all crumbled just like the rest, succumbing to her charms, getting their brains fucked out by her, and in the process falling under the thrall of the gorgeous, raven-haired young goddess. No matter where she went, the doctors would eventually find themselves arguing on her behalf, trying to convince the authorities that Zara should be freed. The people in charge didn't want that, so they would keep moving her around to different facilities until they found one equipped enough to contain her. That's what led them to Dr. White.

They spoke of Zara as if she had a superpower, a charisma and ability for persuasion that could not be contained. Dr. White was eager to stare down this young woman and see what she was made of personally, but then an opportunity presented itself that couldn't be denied.

Enter Dr. Charles Axelrod.

Charles was a contemporary of Dr. Schulhause, and Suzanne's downfall never sat right with him. He kept poking around, pushing his nose into Dr. White's business, and it was clear he was no fan of his new boss. But he was quite accomplished and influential, one of the most highly respected in the country, therefore simply firing him didn't seem like the best way forward. So, when Zara entered St. Lilith's, Dr. White came up with a shrewd idea. Instead of personally dealing with Zara, she could watch from afar. She could yield the job to Dr. Axelrod so she could watch the patient in her element, doing her thing and trying to win over another authority figure. Charles was pleased with this development. He had so many questions about how the Alexandra case went down with Suzanne, but now, he could be in charge of this next major case involving a criminal, so he trusted it by done by-the-book.

Charles was a highly regarded doctor of psychiatry. In his late thirties, the married doctor was knowledgeable, book smart and experienced. He was one of the best. A towering figure, tall and broad-shouldered and masculine, he came from an athletic background, and often had to combat people's initial intimidation of him. But in truth, he was quite friendly and charming, though he had a steely demeanor, not one to break easily. If you were to pick someone to face down a person like Zara, you'd pick Charles Axelrod.

He was good at his job, and it was partially that he did it 24 hours a day. His wife, Wanda, had been present at an armed robbery many years ago, and since then, she'd been agoraphobic. This condition is often more complex than its common use, but in this case, it manifested in a classic fashion. Wanda feared being outside, in open spaces. It had been a long time since she'd left the house. But Charles was patient and understanding, catering to her condition, working with her to make her life easier and to not push her beyond her comfort zone. This meant he never got to fully shut down his doctor side, even in his personal life, but he and his wife had settled into a nice groove. They had no kids, because her condition would make such a thing extra complicated, but he worked around her mental health issues without judgment, forming a fully functioning marriage. Some might balk at such an arrangement, but he was truly happy.

They had a nice big house, so she wasn't cooped up. She was happy to be at home, and she made a little money there. She was a painter, and sometimes she would sit up on the second floor next to a big window and people watch, painting the people she saw. She made a little money like this online, enough to keep her happy and productive.

Charles did his homework with Zara, reading all the stories about her, and hearing all the discussion about what she was capable of through his connections at other hospitals. But he was confident in his abilities, and he truly believed he would be the one to get through to her.

When he finally entered a room with her and sat across from her for the first time, he tried to gauge her reaction. She didn't seem intimidated by him. If anything, she seemed excited. Pleased to see the imposing, masculine, handsome doctor seated across from her. And even more pleased to see the ring on his finger.

She was so feared that she was in restraints, her wrists connected to the arms of her chair by leather straps. She was wearing a thin hospital gown, one of the few garments that didn't flatter her delicious form. This was all the doctor's call, playing it safe with this one.

"I'd like to ask..." Charles began, but before he could even finish, she interrupted.

"You are cute! I like you!" Zara effused, her gorgeous face lit up with excitement.

"Excuse me?" he replied, caught a little off-guard. Looking him up and down, seemingly approving of his stature, six-foot-four and fit like an athlete, a sizable bulge behind his zipper, she continued speaking.

"You're gonna be fun!" she replied, excited about this next chapter of her treatment. She loved challenges. This man didn't seem to be intimidated by her. Men like that were the most fun to break. And to be honest, through her journey across all these hospitals, it had been a while since she'd come across a man who ticked all her buttons like this.

"What do you mean, fun?" he asked, humorlessly. "I've read your file, Zara. By all accounts, you have a way of getting what you want, even if you hurt people in your wake. That's not gonna be happening here. I want to get to the bottom of who you are. What made you, you. What happened to you to make you believe the way you act on a daily basis is the appropriate course of action." He intended to come across firm but fair, communicating that he was not like the others who'd crumbled in front of her. But she was clearly unconvinced, grinning wickedly. Holding up her hands even in her restraints, as if she were no danger, she was ready to reply.

"How about we make a bet?" she proposed in a knowing tone.

"Bet?" he replied, unhappy that she had so quickly taken control of this conversation, but nonetheless curious where she was going.

"We're going to be talking a lot, I'm sure," Zara began, her voice liquid and sexy. "And by the end of it... yeah, you're gonna see the real me. And what you see... you're not gonna hate it. You're gonna love it! You're gonna love me! You're gonna agree with me! You're going to be totally on my side! And most importantly of all, after you hear every BAD thing I've done to people, you're gonna want to fuck me! More than anything! I've seen it all the time," she stated, speaking with the experienced confidence of a doctor. But she wasn't a medical professional... he was. "Right now, you're in charge. But by the time we're done, I'll be in charge of you. I'll be your queen goddess, and nothing will be more important to you than me. By the time we're done, I bet I can have you on your knees for me, eagerly eating my ass, and if I do, you have to let me go. If I'm wrong, you can keep me locked up here for however long you want, and I'll be a good little patient for you. Deal?"

Completely perplexed by such an offer, he didn't know what to say.

"That's a completely ridiculous thing to suggest," Charles choked out, a little sweat on his brow due to her aggressive offer.

"Then why not take the deal?" she asked in a sickeningly sweet tone of voice. "If you're so sure you're not gonna end up fucking me, then just take the bet if you know you're gonna win. Unless... you're not so sure..." she added, letting the silence hang between them. Looking into her eyes, it felt like she was staring into his soul, already getting to him, the pregnant pause implying that he was unsure if he'd be able to resist fucking her. No! That was stupid! She wasn't affecting him. At all! Immediately, he'd begun to appreciate why she was so dangerous.

"What you want will never happen," he stated firmly, his deep voice conveying a confident finality to that assertion, ignoring the ever-slight tingling coming from his large married cock.

"Then it's a deal!" she exclaimed, taking that statement as one announcing that the bet was on. That wasn't what he meant, but she kept at it. "A big fat YES to my offer! I can't wait! This'll be such fun! I can't wait!" she said excitedly, admiring the sight of the hunky doctor. "We're gonna have such AMAZING sex! You don't even understand how good it'll be!"

Already slightly taken aback and unnerved, Dr. Axelrod was far more on his back foot five minutes into their discussion than he intended.

This would become a pattern.

Over the weeks to come, they got to chatting. She was happy to invite the married doctor into her psyche, as she felt her ideology was so rock-solid based on her experiences that it couldn't be denied, even by a doctor like the handsome married Dr. Axelrod. For her entire life men had bent to her will, desperate for her approval, desperate to be liked by her, desperate for her body. When it came down to brass tacks, men would choose to make her happy, even at the expense of themselves or their loved ones. So, taking this all in, why was she being penalized for her belief that men should cede their spot to women, when they'd been doing just that for her all her life? Why was she getting silenced for stating the truth?

She laid it all out from the start. Back when she was in high school, how teachers would get nervous around her, and she found that with the slightest effort on her part, these teachers would bend to her willpower, giving her good grades with no extra work involved. At church, the leaders there would try extra hard to win her over, even as her outfits got more and more sinful during Sunday service. She wasn't being penalized for well-known bad behavior... she was being rewarded.

This even extended to her family. She had a rich, older distant cousin who'd made some serious bank through some patents he'd put down, and Zara tested herself against him at a family event. A little bit of flirting, some preening, some teasing looks at her delicious body, including a glimpse at her massive Faultline of cleavage... he crumbled, cutting her in on his fortune just to win her affection. And he was excited to do it.

If she was constantly getting positive affirmation for her actions... why stop?

So, she didn't.

Over the years, it had only ramped up. She kept pushing, and men kept falling. One time, she was walking home from a college party, sipping a drink openly for the world to see. A cop stopped her, with enough evidence to put her in the drunk tank. Instead, when she was done with him, he was letting her drive his police car home while giving him a hand-job, keeping the cop squirming in the passenger seat the whole time.

A local politician was trying to ruin her hometown through his restrictive policy and hyper conservative values, and he was about win. Then a video came out with him on his knees, jacking off like his life depended on it, with Zara yelling expletives at him as he stared at her, desperate to be granted release. Let's just say this display didn't win him any new voters, costing him the election.