Work Text:
Run Rabbit Run - Flanagan & Allen
They're Coming to take me away Ha-HAA! - Napolean XIV
Tip Toe Thru' the Tulips with Me - Tiny Tim
☞🧿☜
In 1923 - you were found guilty of brutally murdering your friends. The newspapers called you The Witch. The court brought in a Psychiatrist who found you to be unfit for trial.
So instead of the chair, you got something far, far worse.
Existing in ‘The Harkness Home for Criminally Insane’ was a never-ending torture convention; you longed for death.
Dr. Harkness liked you a little too much, she’d framed a few newspaper clippings with you to hang in her office for government officials visiting. So they knew she had declawed The Witch.
You found it repulsive how she’d nicknamed you Bunny, and even in a room full of people found a possessive way to touch you. Like you were her very own walking science project. You always felt like the frog being dissected.
Then there was the staff, or the only other staff that was allowed to see such a high-profile criminal such as yourself. Which was the head Nun, Sister Vidal, who found that you were in constant need of corporal punishment. Using you to demonstrate to a the rest of the inmates what crossing her looked like.
You were pretty sure Sister Vidal invented the concept of the paddle for public humiliation.
You slept on your stomach in the padded cell; your ass was never pale, always purple and black, shades of yellow at the ends from an attempt to heal, though it never did.
You tried to take a deep breath, but found the impending doom of what was to come made it hard for you to breathe.
Military time strikes the 13th hour, and your door is unlocked.
You count backwards, knowing this game all too well.
An orderly would unlock, you would count down, and then as soon as the record started - You’d run for your life.
Realistically, the hospital was too large for you to figure out what door Dr. Harkness had ‘unlocked’ for tonight's game.
You weren’t even sure if she was unlocking a door at this point.
But the side of the hospital that she let you sprint across never had a soul near it. And it was your job to try to break free….
It was the worst sort of torture, because every day you lived off a sliver of hope, and less than a song's worth later….you were in their clutches once more.
Still you lifted up with the strength in your stomach.
Oh, that’s right, as if this game wasn’t hard enough normally. Today you hadn’t wanted to sit through your vaginal exam by Dr. Harkness. And you’d behaved poorly, by spitting at her in front of her friends. So you were in a straitjacket.
You knew you shouldn’t have retaliated. But these exams were horrific and Dr. Harkness always got to explore her ‘voyeristic’ tendencies in front of these crowds. This week was another appointment where she reported - via inspection - that you had ‘intercourse recently.’ Scribbling on your medical paperwork about ‘sexual preversions.’ And then smirked at you, and you couldn’t believe that none of her ‘colleagues’ that came to visit for these weekly ‘check ups’ and ‘teachings’ never ever told the good Doctor…to wear some gloves as she entered you.
That it was not hospital practice to use your bare hands when exploring your patient's cervix…
‘Run Rabit Run Rabit, Run Run Run.’ The record played, and it was the pistol going off for you to sprint in your socks and straight jacket across the tile.
You could practically hear Harkness giggling along to the song. She loved calling you Bunny, loved playing with you.
‘Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run
Don't give the farmer his fun, fun, fun
He'll get by without his rabbit pie
So run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run’
The record played on and you felt yourself losing before the game even had started. Turning down another hall dismal.
‘Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run
Bang, bang, bang, bang goes the farmer's gun
Your sock covered feet comes to a stop as you find an exit, one you’d tried before, but maybe this time would be different. You bend over and try to use your teeth to open the door.
Strong arms wrap around you, holding you in a sort of backwards bear hug with your straight jacket.
You scream in fear as you gaze down to see a glass shot, needle dribbling from the tip in the good doctors hand. As she hugs you like a lover from behind.
“I HAVE MORE SONG! I HAVE MORE TIME!”
You do your best to break free, and Harkness just lifts you up as your legs kick the air.
“You run so pretty, my little Bunny.” You hear, and you sag from exhaustion, just enough time for Harkness to release one arm from your torso and expertly administer the needle into the side of your neck.
“NO!” You scream, already aware it’s no use, but as the light from the window fades, you can’t help but hope the outside world can hear you, can save you.
“Time to play.” Dr. Harkness kisses the bit of blood that bubbles to the surface from the injection.
Then everything goes black.
When you come to you are weak, limbs and voice not working. But above you a scene is playing out.
Nun Vidal is only wearing her top half of the habit. Her black dress is gone but the white of her guimpe and cornet still white and pristine around her face. The nun only has one garter belt left falling down her leg. Her mound exposed, black hair was trimmed to a small cross above her labia. Sister Vidal is about to orgasm, and she’s choking Dr. Harkness. A dildo pushing between the women of god’s folds. She was speaking a biblical verse as she was fucked raw.
Harkness leaned forward to lick her nipples only to be slapped across the face.
“Dr., you forget yourself,” Vidal says, a fun game the two of them play.
Dr. Harkness is always in charge, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t told just how fuck the Nun. The power exchanged flips and flops.
A bit of lube and cum drips onto your face as they fuck ontop of their ‘patient.’
You can’t move, can’t fight, can’t scream. All you can do is blink pitifully, as the two fuck on top of you.
You close your eyes, deciding that even in your nightmares, it has to be better than this.
Smelling salts wake you this time, you gasp and try to jolt upright. Body already on a fight of flight panic.
But you are in the stirrups. You let out a cry of frustration. No longer in a straight jacket, your arms and legs still bound though, no chance to get an upper hand.
A blinding surgical light shining in your eyes.
Harkness is wearing only a lab coat as the image of her with another needle comes to view. A familiar sight and still so uncomfortable.
Your naked body was already glistening with anxious sweat. The straps were buckled tighter than they should be, you can’t help it, you screamed into the void, knowing it only fueled them.
A long thick needle went into your arm first, and the doctor purposefully missed.
“Ooops.” Harkness giggled and pushed the sharp object under your skin and you grit your teeth. But tonight she didn’t go for her usual three ‘tries.’ Instead finding the vein, she started the blood draw. Though it felt more like a blood letting.
Harkness made it a point to take 20% of your blood into large beakers. The first time she did it, she explained that this much blood was unhealthy to your body. That you’d grow anxious, weak, nauseous, and lose bladder functions.
Another liquid Harkness collected, a plus for her of the stirrups you were currently strapped to.
Your socked feet up in the air as your ankles were bound. Your gown opened like it was nothing.
“Sister Vidal-” Dr. Harkness started to ask, and the nun simply spread your labia and tisked.
“Unclean.”
You knew that was untrue, Vidal had a thing about shaving though. And Harkness loved a sharp object. So this turned into you getting a lathering around your pussy.
Rio had already prepared it, as this was the same old song and dance. Afterall the definition of insanity was the same thing over and over and expecting different results.
And you knew what the next step to the dance was, but it didn’t make it any easier.
Vidal would get on her knees behind the good doctor, as she was hunched over. Face mere inches away from your soapy cunt. And Vidal would smother her face in Agatha’s lips from behind, licking her so that she could not hold a steady hand.
Thus cutting you just in the tiniest ways, a little razor cut. And then the blood would pool and Harkness would apologize to the good nun.
You tried to dissociate, not to be here for this part of the evening. But as Agatha held up a blade to the offensive overhead light, you gulped at the size.
“The patient is nervous, sister. Shall we pray?”
Rio laughed, uninspired by the idea.
“This one is far past saving, God needs us to purify.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, Vidal had literally pulled rosary beads out of your asshole last night instead of showing a film for the other patients.
A few of them cried, most men touched themselves, only to get hosed down by the other staff for being ‘unclean.’
And Sister Vidal made sure that you orgasmed speaking scripture in latin.
So you found it more than ironic that yesterday you were told to quote scripture but now you weren’t worth it.
“Do not worry Bunny, I am well-versed in surgical tools.”
You could laugh if you weren’t so naked and vulnerable in front of them.
Agatha leaned over and Sister Vidal lifted up her lab coat, as she was bare underneath from their previous coitus from ‘catching’ you in the hospital halls.
You tried to hold your bladder, but it was becoming increasingly difficult after so much time with these lunatics. They’d trained your body. The Holy Nun and Dcotor loved when you wet yourself, a reason to punish you, to humiliate you.
And as the blood continued to flow out of your arm, through the tube, down into the glass beaker… you knew the only chance at not soiling yourself in the stirrups was a catheter. You didn’t want to get in trouble and prove them right by making a mess. But you had to hold it through this part, was the great genital shaving was never skipped.
The head nun got on her knees like she was about to pray, and Dr. Harkness bent over. Only to moan right away, her hand shaking at the sweetness of her employees
You take a deep breath for what is to come.
Your toes curling not from enjoyment but of every muscle in your body tensing. And the blade slides against your soft flesh, and you try to breathe out.
And Agatha lets out a high-pitched whine but moves the razor to the small basin of water next to all the medical instruments. Dipping the razor into the water and then coming back, but she wobbles under her submissive nun's mouth.
“Sister Vidal-” she makes a desperate sort of noise, which makes you flinch.
The Nun’s lips make a smacking noise as she pulls away from the doctors wet labia.
“Our Father gives and he can take, do not forget your calling.” Vidal reminds and you try not to cry out as Dr. Harkness brings the razor down again.
You watch through your legs this sweet hell.
You couldn’t be sure if it was worse to look or not to look. But it seemed Harkness wasn’t making this as long of a process as usual. Only one strip left, as her blade makes a sctaching noise as it cleans the hair and shaving cream from your wet skin. Wanting to move on to her favorite part. Which sadly wasn’t her own orgasm.
You breathe through your nose and try to hold your bladder. Dr. Harkness groans as her orgasm is so close.
But as the Doctor turns the blade, she pushes her free palm out to your stomach, aware of what the outcome will be.
“NO!” You shout and it’s too late, you couldn’t hold it. And the sound of hot piss running down the surgical table and splashing onto the floor has you furious.
“Oh my!” Dr. Harkness orgasms from the smell of your piss, a blade in her hand, and the head nun's tongue between her folds.
You just kept peeing, unable to use the bathroom before dinner. A game of who could hold out the longest. You don’t want to cry, but the disgusting noise of you peeing yourself and the upsetting, sadistic delight of Harkness's orgasm has you defeated before the night is even begun.
When Harkness was finally done, she grabbed the Nun by the last bit of cloth, the headband around her hair. And shoved it into the piss.
“Go ahead, Sister Vidal, drink from our Holy Grail.” Dr. Harkness laughs, but Vidal loves to lick up your mess. And she drinks greedily from the puddle by your cunt.
The white bit of her habit turning yellow from your accident. You watch, because now you can’t look away.
Dr. Harkness pushes down painfully on your stomach and it works like a leak in a water balloon; more pee gushes and this time the nun is quick to lick from the source. Turning next with a glistening face to make out with the Doctor.
They were a match made in only the darkest parts of the Old Testament. And you were their love child of grotesque creation.
Dr. Harkness broke the kiss, her face equally drenched now from the dirty embrace. But her attention turned to the container of your blood, as it was now overflowing.
“Nun Vidal! You’ve failed your duties.” Harkness challenged dropping the razor to move the tube with your blood spitting out into a new beaker. Making it clear she was to ‘start over.’
“Dr. Harkness, you need to repent, for it was you who distracted me from our patient! With your carnal lust! “For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride of life—is not from the Father but is from the world.” Nun Vidal quotes John 2:16, a favorite of hers.
Sister Vidal speaks the words with piss and cum drenching her body. And you wish you could curse her, but your clit gleams with cum, and the good, godly womans saliva still. You sat in your piss and degradation, and your head started to feel too fuzzy.
The blood loss was quickly making tonights game harder for you to stay awake for. Not a good thing at all, because if you didn’t fight the sleep, the Dr. would only punish you longer.
You fought your heavy eyelids just as Vidal took off the last of her habit.
Sister Vidal giggled in a deranged manner as a beaker of your blood, the one she had ‘let’ overflow. Was no longer ‘useable’ in the eyes of Dr. Harkness. And was fit for play. So the nun giddily poured the cooling blood over your stomach. You cringed as the smell of it hit your nose. Piss, blood, and cum everywhere.
“Shhhh, little rabbit you should have run better!” Vidal told you grabbing your foot in the stirrup. As though you were in fact a bunny, with a dud of a ‘lucky foot.’
“Sister, please.” Doctor Harkness sighed and the Nun used the rest of the beaker of your blood to pour down the doctor's chest.
Who moaned and filled with excitement from the mess.
You knew better then to close your eyes, to look away, they’d use the eyelid speculum. To keep your eyes nice and wide open so you couldn’t miss a moment.
“Sister, please,” Dr. Harkness was the dominant, and yet the sister had such a good time terrorizing her from the bottom. Bridging the doctor to her weakest state of desire, to break open every day again.
“Two lobotomies, and you think you can sin? You must beg.”
“Please may I?” The head doctor was always in charge, but behind closed doors, the sister only allowed her to think she had a say.
“We must administer the IV again, then the catheter, then the speculum, and only then may you fist Bunny. You know the rules, doctor.”
Your vision turned fuzzy once more, yet you could hear the music that wasn’t playing.
‘Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run’