Discussion Over Destruction (FF/F, 18+) (Patreon)

(The following story contains mature elements and NSFW material. All characters are 18+ and consenting at all times)

“Did you get that invite to Brenda’s daughter’s birthday party?” Dana asked.

“I think so,” said Penelope. “That was a mass email right? Because I didn’t see anything in the mail.”

“Yeah, she sent it out… last Sunday, I think,” said Dana. “No, it was Saturday. I just didn’t see it until Sunday.”

“Right, yeah, I got it,” Penelope said, dryly.

“You gonna go?” Dana asked, leaning in, her tone falling low and slightly more secretive.

“I don’t know,” Penelope said, huffing a little while keeping her hands focused on the task before her. “I don’t really know her all that well. Added her on Facebook after I started and she’s been so obnoxious with sharing those stupid inspirational quotes over stock pictures of nothing. Oh, and cats. Girl loves those damn cats.”

“Yeah, she’s always been that way,” said Dana, chuckling a bit.

“I invited her out for drinks with the girls that one night, because I felt bad, and she turned me down saying… something about the cats, so I don’t know,” Penelope continued. “Maybe if I’m free. When is it again?”

“The 22nd.”

“And that’s a…?”

“Tuesday.”

“Hmm, yeah, maybe I might stop by,” Penelope said. “Don’t want to get on her bad side after all the sucking up she does to board members.”

“That’s pretty much where I’m at,” Dana said. “Bought her daughter this cute little jacket from that store that Brenda says she likes.”

“Which one?” Penelope asked. “Since I now need to pick something up too.”

“Jackson Cubs, down at the mall on 5th,” said Dana.

“Ugh, the mall…”

“I know, I know, but get her something, slip Brenda the receipt, it’ll be fine,” said Dana.

“Yeah, I guess,” Penelope said. “Office politics are gonna be the death of me.”

“Right?” Dana asked jestingly. “Don’t worry, she’s not so bad with stuff like that.”

“Her daughter’s what? 13? 14?”

“Turning 15,” Dana said. Penelope sighed through her nose and shook her head.

“Not sure why you’d want a bunch of adults at your teenager’s birthday party, but whatever,” said Penelope.

“It’s more for her than anything else,” Dana said. “Or just an excuse to collect shit from her coworkers, but it’s not so bad. Just show up, drop off a gift, say something came up, and take off. She’ll understand and appreciate that you even took the time to do that.”

“Good to know,” said Penelope, smiling slightly. “You saw her at the Christmas Party though?”

“Who didn’t?” Dana asked, smirking a bit. “Girl was so tanked on nog, she damn near passed out on the karaoke stage.”

“And What’s Going On was the perfect song to watch it all happen to,” said Penelope, laughing slightly.

“Oh yeah, What’s Up, I think is what it’s actually called, but yeah, totally,” said Dana, both working passively, yet tirelessly, at the task they shared.

“And the mass email she wrote the next day apologizing for her behavior, as if she was the only one there who was shit-faced,” said Penelope.

“I swear, Brenda and her mass emails,” Dana said, shaking her head. “That’ll be the death of me.”

A shifting thud between them earned the attention of both, briefly.

“I made a special folder for mine,” said Penelope. “I can set you one up too. Everything from her goes right in there and I don’t have to see her happy little greeting three times a week.”

“I may take you up on that,” said Dana. “There’s never anything useful in them, it’s always just ‘hey guys, please send thoughts and prayers for my cat or… goldfish… or whatever’.”

“Followed by some quote that she definitely got off of the first link after Googling ‘inspirational quotes’,” said Penelope sourly.

“Yes, please, set that up for me,” Dana said. “Like, after we’re done here.”

“For sure,” Penelope said.

“Also, did you hear what Cindy said about the promotion?” Dana asked.

“The… promotion that she got or that the team was looking for?” Penelope asked.

“Teresa is stepping down.”

“No, for real?”

“Yep, at the end of the month,” said Dana.

“Teresa in Acquisitions?”

“Apparently her husband got relocated or something in his job, so they’re moving,” said Dana.

“That’s crazy, how long has she been here?”

“About twenty-five years,” said Dana. “CCBC’s matching her 401k contributions, so she’s pretty set, I’d say.”

“Lucky,” said Penelope.

“Her husband's a forensics expert or something,” Dana continued. “Not a bad setup, those two.”

“I can imagine,” said Penelope.

“So, yeah, that position's gonna be open,” said Dana.

“You applying?”

“I thought about it, but it'll probably go to Derek or someone out-of-state that's been here ten-plus years.”

“Doesn't hurt to try though,” Penelope said, almost cheerfully. “You never know.”

“Yeah, that's what my mother said when I told her about it,” said Dana. “I might, just for the hell of it.”

“Get you out of doing the hands-on stuff,” Penelope commented.

“Eh, I don't mind this,” Dana said, shrugging a bit. “Gotten pretty good at it over the years. My last four transfers have been early sign-offs.”

“Jesus, you're going to fuck up the quota curve,” Penelope said as both women giggled. “Gonna make me work harder or just straight up get me laid off.”

“No, Courtney knows not to adjust the numbers based on me,” Dana said. “You're doing great, by the way.”

“Here eight months and I still feel like the new hire, some days,” Penelope said.

“Same, girl,” Dana said. “Three years and same.”

Thud.

“That helps,” Penelope said with a tender smile. “Did you and Vic do anything fun over the weekend?”

“He had started this deck project, like, a month ago, so he's been chipping away at that,” Dana said. “I just cleaned a bunch on Saturday and spent Sunday being lazy and running errands.”

“Sounds nice,” Penelope said.

“What about you?”

“Worked. Spent the weekend working with the teacher in #309.”

“Isn't that Gloria's subject?”

“Yeah, but I took an OT offer to help out since she's been so stubborn.”

“She’s still in therapy?”

“Was supposed to be released two weeks ago,” Penelope said. “Been putting up quite the fight.”

“Oof, that's rough,” Dana said. “Maybe they need to up the dosage. See, I always tell them ahead of time that it's better to just accept it and move on, you know? Hanging on just makes it worse for everyone.”

“I know,” said Penelope. “They’ve apparently upped the dosage and gotten in others to help out, but you know how some of them can be.”

“Well, as long as we stay at it, we're still doing our jobs,” said Dana. “If the quotas aren't getting hit, there's not much else we can do about that.”

“Feels like the conditioning team knows,” said Penelope.

“Oh, for sure,” Dana said. “Most of them moved up from the therapy wing. If anyone's going to give you shit, it'll be the jack-offs up in finance.”

“Not worried about it,” Penelope said. “Like you said, as long as we keep at it, there's not much else that we can do. Besides, Kyle was also working through the weekend, so I figured that I would do the same.”

“He works… retail?”

“He works for an analytic firm that primarily services retail,” said Penelope. “He always says that it's even more boring than it sounds.”

“Well, compared to what you do, I'm sure,” Dana said.

“Haha, no,” Penelope laughed. “I may bitch about it from time to time, but this is a dream. Never in a million years would I have thought I'd be doing this.”

“It's fun,” Dana commented. “When it's easy, it's fun. It can be a nightmare, given the subject and the secrecy and the people you work with, but when it's right, it's so good.”

“That's the impression,” Penelope said, working diligently as she shifted the topic of conversation to keep the energy fresh. “Got any big Easter plans?”

“We don't really celebrate,” Dana said. “Without kids or… you know, religion, there isn't much to it.”

Thud.

“I gotcha,” Penelope said. “I think we've got brunch plans… somewhere, I forget. Oh! No, it's that new place, down off Sanders Street. That cute little cafe that I've been meaning to try.”

“The… Willow Grove?” Dana asked. “Is that what it's called?”

“No, that's downtown,” said Penelope. “This place just opened up, like, three weeks ago. It's supposed to have the best pancakes. Oh god, I'm totally blanking on what it's called…”

“Hmm… is that the Morning Hamlet that I've heard people talking about?”

“Hash and Hamlet, that's it!” Penelope exclaimed. “Oh my gosh, that was going to drive me crazy!”

“Oh, yeah, I haven't actually been there myself, but I've heard good things.”

“Me too, I'm so excited,” said Penelope. “Other than that, we'll probably just stay in, take it easy.”

“Still doing the cruise this summer?”

“Royal,” said Penelope. “Symphony. Porting out of Miami. So excited!”

“That sounds amazing,” said Dana.

“We've done a couple of the ships, but this'll be the first time for this one,” said Penelope. “Have you ever been?”

“Never done a cruise.”

“Never done any cruise?”

“Nope, we usually vacation in this beautiful little place in Reno when we’re not hopping over to Vegas,” said Dana.

“Ah, I see,” said Penelope. “Little relaxing, a lot of excitement, sounds like a good mix.”

“Victor loves the cold and the scenery is just so beautiful out there,” said Dana.

Thud.

“I bet,” said Penelope. “I’m a beach girl, admittedly. Not so much on the ports, but drinking and laying out in different spots is an easy sell.”

“Hey, I won’t argue with that,” said Dana. “I think this year we’re going to head out to California as a graduation present for Natalie.”

“Aww, Nat’s graduating?” Penelope asked. “That’s so exciting! Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” said Dana, smiling proudly as she worked. “She worked so hard this year to make sure she got her GPA up as high as she could.”

“That’s so amazing, where is she looking after graduation?”

“We’re thinking CSU, but I think she’s also considering Denver,” said Dana.

“Do you have a preference?” asked Penelope.

“Whichever keeps her closer,” said Dana, mostly jokingly.

“I bet,” said Penelope, laughing along. “That’s so exciting.”

“Yeah, thanks, she’s really looking forward to it,” said Dana. “At least, I think she is. She’s also pretty nervous regarding the whole change.”

“That’ll happen. What’s important is reminding her that she’s great and she’s going to do great. Does she have a major in mind?”

“Veterinary medicine seems most likely,” said Dana.

“Okay, noble and lucrative,” said Penelope. “Respect.”

“As long as she’s happy, she has our support,” said Dana.

“That’s all a parent, and kid, can really ask for, right?”

Thud.

“Wild one, we got here…” Penelope commented with a slight chuckle.

“Nat also suggested the CCBC internship, just to get some field experience,” Dana said passively.

“Oh, that would be cool,” said Penelope. “Is she… interested?”

“I don’t think she’s serious,” said Dana.

“Is she aware of…?

“No,” said Dana, sharply. “I don’t think I’d still be here if she was.”

“Those NDAs are a bitch, huh?”

“It’s tough sometimes, but the money helps,” said Dana. “I’ve heard what those CCBC lawyers and higher ups end up doing to those that breach the agreement. I’ll deal with her not knowing, especially when it protects Nat from… all this, I guess.”

“Like you said, money’s good and the job’s great under the right people,” said Penelope. “But I get that ‘under a microscope’ feeling. It’s weird. Even when I’m alone at home, sometimes, I feel like they're still watching me.”

“They practically are,” said Dana. “Just keep your private and professional life separate and you’ll be fine. That’s what I’m trying to do with pointing Natalie somewhere else.”

“Sounds like the right thing to do as a parent,” said Penelope, looking up to the camera in the corner of the padded room, blinking a small red light in the bottom corner. “Are you going to the potluck at the end of the month?”

“Is that this month?”

“I think so.”

“I should,” said Dana. “Not sure if I really want to, but I should.”

“I may go just to show off this crab mac and cheese recipe that I do pretty well,” said Penelope.

“Crab mac and cheese?” Dana asked. “Mmmm, that sounds good.”

“It’s pretty good, not gonna lie,” said Penelope. “Don’t have many good dishes in my back pocket, but that one’s always a crowd pleaser.”

“I bet,” said Dana. “I guess I could bring a pie from the store or something. I’m not much of a cook, but you never want to be the one at the potluck not bringing anything.”

“For sure,” said Penelope.

“Vic’s not big on going to office things, even his own, so he’ll probably sit it out.”

“Hey, I don’t blame him,” said Penelope. “Like, they already get enough of my paid time, I don’t wanna be around some of these people more than I have to, you know?”

“Haha, totally,” said Dana.

Dana and Penelope fell alert and acutely quiet at the door to the therapy chamber opening with a noticeable chunk. The two looked toward it to see another woman enter, dressed in a similar facility regulation lab coat. Both sat up straight as they watched their colleague, Francine, enter with a clipboard in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. A tense stillness fell over the room, lit abrasively with fluorescents that bounced off of the pale gray pads across the walls and buzzed softly below the faint pop music placed on a shuffled playlist from Penelope’s phone to help accompany the stagnant repetitiveness of their job. Francine paid it little mind as she approached a console on the far wall, scanning a badge latched to her side by a retractable leash and tapping unknown inputs with one clawed finger.

“Hey, Franny, you taking over?” Dana asked.

“As per Donnovan’s request,” Francine said, almost tiredly.

Between Dana and Penelope, the body of a woman laid out flattened and bound my heavy and well-placed restraints. She laid out across a padded slab where, above her shoulders and wrists, her head and hands fed into a small compartment within the wall, just below a written in marker detailing the woman’s identifying details. Cut off from the rest of the therapy chamber, using stellar soundproofing technology, the woman lay splayed out, exposed and vulnerable, to the specific treatments for which the Center for Cognitive and Behavioral Conditioning had assigned to her.

“How’s she doing?” Francine asked, tying back her long, caramel tinted hair.

“Not bad,” said Dana.

“We should probably check on her though,” Penelope said.

Dana sat in a seat down at the bottom of the padded slab, where the woman’s bare feet were placed in a specialized set of stocks that measured the intrinsic pulling of her toes against the ten cords which held them back and adjusted the resistance accordingly to keep them perfectly immobile. There, Dana continued to scribble all of her fingers, fitted with gloves that were tipped with claw-like appendages and designed to keep the doctors safe from the deathly potent sensitizing oils produced and used within the CCBC compounds. The woman’s bare arches glistened with the substance more and more as the claws at the ends of Dana’s fingers scraped and danced up and down her helpless feet. During the later half of the therapy session, Dana had attached automatic flossers to the stocks aimed at the delicate webbing between each of the woman’s splayed toes to help supplement stimulation to the area, all of which were still active and whose insidious humming had become little more than background noise that too faded behind Penelope’s pop playlist.

“How long has it been?” Francine asked.

“Since we last checked?” Penelope asked, glancing at the clock on the far wall. “Oh, I’d say… about an hour.” Penelope herself stood by the side of the woman’s midsection. She had spent the first hour digging her hands into the woman’s supple armpits and alternating between her sides and ribs. Though she knew that approaching such a method for therapy would quickly tire her out, which was detrimental when some sessions could last as long as four or even five hours at a time. After that time, she tapped the budding tip of an electric toothbrush to the woman’s navel and to smaller ones to her nipples using tape designed to work especially well against skin, growing particularly stronger as the skin grew wet and warm. From there, she danced her own long, purple nails across the woman’s belly and thighs at a lazy, though no less maddening, pace, causing the headless body to twitch and jerk, causing sharp thuds to ring out every so often against the restraints. Unable to hear her, this was the best reassurance the women had that she was still conscious.

“Alright, pull her out,” Francine said dryly.

Dana and Penelope backed away from their positions. The devices that both had set up were still active as they approached the wall containing the woman’s head and hands at both sides. Dana and Penelope pulled out their keys and inserted them into the locks within the wall. With a subtle click, the compartment was open. Within a second of sliding the slab back, pulling the woman’s head from the walled off hole, her voice exploded throughout the room.

“WHHHHAHAHHAHHHHEGEGEHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!! PLLEEEHEHEHHAHAHHSHHSHSHAHAHAHAHAAA!!! GGGGGEEEHHEEMMMEHEHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAAA!!!” the woman howled restlessly, desperately. Sweat and tears cast an almost melting effect across her face. Her eyes rolled, her head swirling side to side, as far as it was allowed. As the devices continued to tear away at her nipples, navel, and the especially sensitive spaces between her twitching toes, she bore the expression of a beast tormented and broken into near inhuman hysteria, a mind which shattered pieces continued to be splintered again and again. Her hands, caught within the same trap, flailed uselessly and grasped at nothing. The three women looked over the subject for several moments, studying her state, before pushing her trapped parts back into the wall’s compartment, locking her away as the laughter vanished from the room in a suddenness that was as haunting as it was an impressive display of the soundproofing technology that the therapy rooms employed for such purposes.

“She seems close,” Francine said, soaking in the objective silence. “I’ll talk to Donnovan to see if we can’t schedule her an assessment for reconditioning.”

“This weekend, maybe?” Dana asked. “If not, Monday? I hear, when Potter saw this one, he became quite interested in adding her to his collection.”

“Of course he would,” said Francine, smiling a bit.

“I hear he tickles his girls at home worse than we do hear,” Penelope said, leaning in and chuckling with the other two.

“I’m sure he would love to have you think that,” said Francine. “If she’s conditioned as well as she’s broken, she should be market ready in a month or so. Maybe less.”

“That’s good enough for me,” said Dana, starting for the door. She pulled off her gloves and let her hair fall from a black scrunchy that hugged the back of her head. “You’re taking over for me, right, Franny?”

“For the last hour, it seems,” Francine said, picking up two large hairbrushes and assuming Dana’s spot at the bottom of the plank. “Then I have a male in #332 to let out. His session’s technically over, but he can wait. He’s a tough boy.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” said Dana.

“Have a great day!” Penelope called out.

“You too, both of you!” Dana said.

Dana gave her colleagues a small wave before heading out of the room, closing the door behind her with another noticeable chunk. Penelope resumed her task over by the woman’s thighs, teasing the inner lengths as well as her exposed slit. Francine sighed as she began scrubbing the brushes up and down the woman’s slickened soles, brushing vigorously across the glossy surfaces, screaming with sensitivity with deep pink hues. The woman’s thudding twitches resumed, her body frantically fighting against the straps that held her down while her laughter remained silent to her tormentors, replaced by the catchy rhythms of the day’s popular musical artists.

“So…” Penelope asked, one hand teasing across the woman’s privates while the other scoured her belly once more, “did you get an invite to Brenda’s daughter’s birthday party?”