A/n - Some good ole Mary Eunice smut. Honestly idk what the fuck I was thinking while writing, but hey, it's fun.
You hadn’t been at Briarcliff long when Sister Mary Eunice took charge. Sister Jude had been kicked out as you heard through the grapevine.
Sister Mary Eunice had always been Sister Jude’s henchwoman. That’s what another patient told you. That she was Sister Jude’s bitch, basically. You figured that when Sister Mary Eunice took over that she’d be lenient and a pushover.
You were wrong.
Around the beginning of the month, your father caught you kissing another woman and sent you straight to the crazy house. Being queer was a big no-no around here. So here you were. Stuck with the paranoid schizophrenics, the deranged killers, and the gone-crazy widows.
You were sat in the common room, playing Go Fish with Miss. Lancaster - a grieving widow. When she eventually wins, you slam your cards on the table and stand up abruptly, causing your chair to fall over behind you.
“This game fucking sucks! You always fucking win because you’re a goddamn cheater!” You accuse, yelling out angrily. Briarcliff made everyone go mad. And for you, it made you unable to control your anger.
Orderlies come rushing in and grab you by the arms. “You fucking bitches!” You yell out as the strong men grab you by the arms. “Rot in hell! All of you!” You continue screaming and kicking as the men practically carry you to Sister Mary Eunice’s office.
They throw you inside and you see the blonde woman sitting at her desk, her nun habit only showing her blonde bangs. Her skin was pale and she wore deep red lipstick on her lips.
She looks up at you, her eyes landing directly on yours. It felt like she was looking through you. “Leave her here. Thank you.” She says to the orderlies in a calm, smooth voice. The men leave the room, leaving it to just you and the nun.
“Anger issues don’t bode well in a place like this, Miss. Y/l/n.” Sister Mary Eunice states, standing from her desk. You stand in place, a deep fear in your body that if you moved, you’d be toast.
Instead, you just breathe heavily. She rounds the desk, eyeing you. She steps in front of you, being a few inches taller than you. “What do you think your punishment should be?” She asks.
You shake your head. “Let me outta this hellhole.” You seethe.
She chuckles shortly, a smile on her red lips. “This… isn’t even close to hell. You want to get on the good side of me? Don’t backtalk.” Sister Mary Eunice comments. You exhale sharply, watching as she leans back and grabs the file with your name on it off of her desk.
“Homosexual tendencies, huh?” She reads, her eyes set on your file. “Tell me, what have you done with a woman?”
“I’ve fucked them. They’ve fucked me. I love being a flaming, raging queer, sister. I love having women on top of me and below me. Feeling their tits and how wet they get.” You say bravely, a smug smirk on your face.
Sister Mary Eunice just chuckles, eyeing you up and down. She took in your asylum outfit that consisted of a boring dress and a knitted coat. “Speaking so courageously given the circumstances.”
You hum, quirking your head to the side. “Take off your coat.” She demands, her voice coated with finality. You delay and she just raises her eyebrows at you. Apprehensively, you slowly shrug off your knit coat.
It falls to the floor and Sister Mary Eunice smiles. “Drop the dress, too.” She adds on. You exhale deeply, your eyes set on hers as you undo the buttons of your dress and slide the dress off of your body, letting it fall pathetically to the floor.
Sister Mary Eunice surveys your body - taking in your breasts and hard nipples before falling to the slightly too big cotton panties the nurses provide. “Those too.” She says, pointing to the panties.
As you slide them over your hips, she walks over to the cabinet and opens it, revealing a variation of whipping canes. Your eyes widen at the side of them.
She grabs one of them and rubs the cane against her palm. “Bend over the desk. Now.” Sister Mary Eunice continues demanding orders like some kind of drill sergeant. You follow, your breasts touching the cold wood of the desk as you bend over so your bare ass was sticking out.
You feel the cold cane run up your inner thigh. You shiver, your body tensing. “How many whips? I say forty, given your foul language earlier.” She comments. You groan, feeling the cane rub against your pussy.
With your cheek pressed against the desk, you wince when Sister Mary Eunice whips you with the cane. And fuck, did it hurt.
Your hands grip the desk’s ledge, your ass cheek burning angrily from the slap. “Count for me.” Sister Mary Eunice orders. “O-One.” You groan out, breathing heavily. She brings the cane down on your ass again, this time harder. “Two!” You cry out.
The fire spread through your entire cheek, making you whimper in pain as she hit you with all her strength. Which was a lot of strength. The numbers slowly climb and with each whip, you can feel your cunt getting wetter.
“Thirty-eight!” You mewl, your voice breaking as tears waterfall down your cheeks. “Thirty-nine!” You continue calling out. With one extra harsh whip, Sister Mary Eunice reaches forty. “Forty!” You draw out, the wood wet below your face from tears.
Sister Mary Eunice pulls you by the hair from your bent-over position, making you face her. She smirks as she sees your red eyes and wet cheeks. Her eyes dance down your body, past your heaving breasts until she reaches between your legs.
“Dirty, dirty girl.” Sister Mary Eunice chides. She uses the tip of the cane to spread your legs, making you whimper as your ass presses against the cold wood of the desk.
She runs her cane over your inner thigh, collecting the gooey wetness that coated your thighs on the cane. “Lick it off.” She orders, raising the cane to your mouth. Tears roll down your cheeks as you beg her. “No… I’m sorry.” You plead.
Staying eerily silent, Sister Mary Eunice pushes the wet cane against your lips. You begrudgingly stick your tongue out and lick it, tasting your own arousal. She smiles as she watches you, her sadism helping her get off on it.
Pulling the cane away from you, she lets go of your hair and pushes you to the ground. “Get out of my sight.” She demands.
“C-Can I get...my clothes?” You say weakly. She shakes her head, sitting back down at her desk. “No. Ask the orderlies for another dress. It’s part of your punishment.”
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