Answers and some needed release

The morning sun hung low in the sky as Dr. Miranda Wong approached the gates of Havenbrook Correctional Facility. Her burgundy blouse and tailored black blazer hugged her form, offering little warmth against the crisp air. Adjusting the hem of her blouse, Miranda caught her reflection in a passing window. The faint lace of her black bra peeked out beneath the neckline of her blouse.

Why did I wear this? she thought, frowning. The memory of Garrett Silver’s sharp yellow-blue eyes and that smirk—so infuriating, yet so... magnetic—lingered in her mind. She shook her head sharply. No. I didn’t dress for him.

At the entrance, Bree Jones leaned casually against the wall, her uniform slightly unbuttoned, her dark curls framing her smirk.

“Morning, Dr. Wong,” Bree greeted, her voice playful. “Looking sharp today. Special occasion?”

Miranda adjusted her bag, her cheeks warming faintly. “Good morning, Officer Jones. No, nothing special.”

“Uh-huh.” Bree’s smirk widened, her eyes flicking to the faint lace beneath Miranda’s blouse. “Could’ve fooled me. Lace suits you.”

Miranda tightened her grip on her bag. “It’s just a work outfit.”

“Relax, Doc,” Bree teased, stepping closer. “You know, I’d love to see it over dinner. What do you say?”

“I appreciate the offer,” Miranda replied, her tone firm. “But I have a session with Garrett Silver this morning.”

At the mention of Garrett, Bree’s smirk faltered slightly, her lips tightening. She quickly recovered. “Fair enough. But don’t keep me waiting too long, Doc. That dinner’s still on the table.”

Miranda nodded politely before stepping past her into the building, her heels clicking sharply. Her mind buzzed with unease, but she **** herself to focus. Garrett awaited her.

The therapy room was dimly lit, the hum of the AudioTuring device filling the space. Garrett Silver sat in his chair, his wrists cuffed in front of him. Despite his restraints, his posture was relaxed, his sharp eyes following Miranda as she entered. The faint smirk on his lips sent a ripple of irritation—and something else—through her.

“Dr. Wong,” he greeted smoothly. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”

Miranda set her bag down, meeting his gaze evenly. “I don’t forget my patients, Garrett.”

His smirk widened slightly. “How professional of you.”

Before Miranda could respond, Bree entered, her keys jangling as she approached Garrett. “Want me to take off his cuffs?” she asked, her tone curt as she avoided Garrett’s smirk.

“Yes, please,” Miranda replied.

Bree unlocked Garrett’s cuffs, her movements sharp. Garrett rubbed his wrists, glancing briefly at Bree. “Thanks, Officer Jones. Always a pleasure.”

Bree glared at him before stepping back. “Enjoy your session, Cucky,” she muttered before exiting, the door closing firmly behind her.

Miranda sighed, taking her seat across from Garrett. “Let’s begin.”

The session started predictably, with Miranda asking questions about his behavior and Garrett deflecting with charm and wit. But as the minutes ticked by, Garrett leaned forward, his tone softening.

“Dr. Wong,” he said, his voice low and measured. “You work so hard to help people like me. Don’t you ever wonder if it’s worth it?”

Miranda ignored the comment, setting her bag down on the desk. “Let’s focus, Garrett,” she said briskly. “How have you been adjusting to solitary confinement?”

Garrett leaned back, his posture relaxed despite the cuffs Bree had just removed. “Oh, you know. Solitude gives a man time to think.”

Miranda raised an eyebrow, pen poised over her clipboard. “And what have you been thinking about?”

He tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “How much I’ve learned about you, Dr. Wong.”

She stiffened slightly. “This session isn’t about me. Let’s keep the focus on you.”

Garrett’s voice softened, his words deliberate. “Therapy-****.”

The moment the trigger left his lips, Miranda froze. Her fingers twitched, the pen slipping from her grasp and clattering onto the clipboard. Her pupils dilated as her shoulders slackened, her breathing slowing into a deep, steady rhythm. The hum of the AudioTuring device seemed to deepen, wrapping the room in an almost tangible stillness.

“Yes… Garrett,” she murmured, her voice distant and pliant.

Garrett leaned back in his chair, his smirk growing as he watched the transformation take hold. Her once-sharp features softened, her usual guarded demeanor melting away like ice under the sun. “That’s better,” he said softly, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “We’re going to have a real conversation now. Aren’t we?”

“Yes,” Miranda replied, her tone calm and monotone.

“Good.” Garrett leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied her intently. “Let’s start simple. Tell me about the AudioTuring device. How does it really work?”

Miranda’s lips parted, her words flowing automatically. “The device manipulates neural pathways using targeted audio frequencies. It rewires thought patterns, strengthens suggestions, and reinforces behaviors over time.”

Garrett tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. “So, it works outside of these little sessions?”

“Yes,” Miranda replied. “It can be embedded in music or used with headphones. Subtle, consistent exposure amplifies the effect. The subconscious absorbs the input seamlessly without resistance.”

His smirk deepened, the possibilities forming like puzzle pieces in his mind. “And why haven’t you used that on me?”

Miranda’s brow furrowed faintly, the smallest hint of resistance flickering before fading. “Because it’s too ****. The goal is to guide you gradually, to dismantle your defenses piece by piece. Rapid shifts could overwhelm your psyche, causing resistance or collapse.”

“Ah,” Garrett murmured, his tone laced with mock appreciation. “You’ve been holding back, then. How noble of you.”

Her head dipped slightly, her expression unreadable. “It was… necessary.”

“And what happens if someone does use it more forcefully?” Garrett pressed, his tone growing sharper.

“It would bypass their defenses entirely,” Miranda answered. “The subject would fully align with the implanted suggestions. Their priorities would shift completely, reflecting the embedded messages.”

Garrett leaned back, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face. “Perfect. Then let’s not waste any more time.”

He reached over, adjusting the settings on the AudioTuring device until the hum shifted into a subtle, rhythmic pulse. “You have your headphones, don’t you?” he asked, his voice deceptively gentle.

“Yes,” Miranda murmured, retrieving her wireless headphones from her bag with mechanical precision. She slipped them on without hesitation, her movements smooth and automatic.

“Good. Now listen carefully,” Garrett said, his tone calm but commanding. “Repeat after me: ‘I love Garrett Silver.’”

“I love Garrett Silver,” Miranda repeated, her voice soft and steady, devoid of hesitation.

“‘Garrett is my priority. He knows what’s best for me.’”

“Garrett is my priority. He knows what’s best for me.”

“‘Disappointing Garrett is unthinkable. Pleasing him is my purpose.’”

“Disappointing Garrett is unthinkable. Pleasing him is my purpose.”

“‘I am Garrett’s devoted tool. Through him, I have value.’”

“I am Garrett’s devoted tool. Through him, I have value.”

“‘I will serve Garrett by bringing him new women to dominate.’”

“I will serve Garrett by bringing him new women to dominate.”

“‘I am his obedient, devoted Asian. He is my white bull.’”

“I am his obedient, devoted Asian. He is my white bull.”

Garrett leaned back, his smirk widening with each repetition as Miranda’s voice grew steadier, her body sinking deeper into the chair with every phrase.

“You’ll play this mantra every night,” he said smoothly. “One hour, without fail. It will remind you of what matters most.”

“Yes… Garrett,” Miranda murmured, her voice soft but resolute. “I will.”

When she finally removed the headphones, her gaze met Garrett’s, and he immediately saw the change. Her eyes, once sharp and guarded, now brimmed with adoration and reverence. Her breathing steadied, but a faint tremor ran through her hands as she smoothed her blazer and adjusted her blouse.

“Wakey... Wakey...” Garrett drawled, his voice smooth and mocking. “My Therapy-****.”

Miranda blinked, her lips parting slightly as the title seemed to settle into her mind. A blush rose to her cheeks, but she made no effort to correct him. Instead, her gaze stayed locked on his, her eyes brimming with something new—devotion.

Garrett tilted his head, his smirk deepening as he leaned forward. “How do you feel, Miranda?”

She hesitated, her voice trembling but filled with clarity. “I feel… closer to you. Like I finally understand my purpose.”

“Good.” Garrett leaned back, his satisfaction evident. “Then let’s see just how much you’ve learned.”

---

He gestured casually, his fingers flicking toward the ground. “Kneel.”

Miranda's body trembled as Garrett gestured for her to kneel. She couldn't believe she was here, on her knees in front of this...Masterpiece of a Man, had she always been drawn to his dominant personality ?, his commanding presence making her heart race and her pussy wet.

As she lowered herself to the ground, Miranda's mind raced with anticipation. She had dreamed of this moment for so long, and now it was finally happening. She could feel Garrett's gaze on her, his piercing blue eyes stripping her bare and leaving her feeling completely exposed.

"You want to please me, don't you?" Garrett asked, his voice low and commanding.

"Yes... Garrett," Miranda replied, her voice trembling with desire. "It's all that matters."

Garrett's smirk grew wider as he pulled away, his eyes roaming over her body. Miranda felt exposed under his gaze, her nipples hardening under her thin shirt. She couldn't help but squirm under his gaze, her body aching for his touch.

"Good," Garrett said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "I knew you were a filthy little Chink slut, just begging to be used by White Bull."

Miranda's heart pounded in her chest, her body trembling with anticipation. She couldn't believe the words that were coming out of Garrett's mouth, but she couldn't deny the way they made her feel. She was his slut, his plaything, and she would do anything to please him.

"Take off your Shirt," Garrett commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Miranda's hands shook as she obeyed, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of her shirt. She couldn't help but feel self-conscious as she stripped, her body on display for Garrett's pleasure. But the look in his eyes told her that he approved, his gaze lingering on her curves and making her body heat with desire.

"Spread your legs," Garrett said, his voice low and commanding.

Miranda obeyed, her heart pounding in her chest as she revealed herself to him. She could feel the wetness between her legs, her body aching for Garrett's touch.

"You're so wet for me," Garrett said, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Such a dirty little slut."

Miranda couldn't deny it. She was wet, soaking wet, and she wanted Garrett to do whatever he pleased with her. She wanted him to use her, to take her, to make her scream with pleasure.

"Finger yourself," Garrett commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Miranda obeyed, her fingers slipping between her wet folds. She moaned as she touched herself, her body trembling with pleasure. She could feel her orgasm building, her body aching for release.

But just as she was about to cum, Garrett slapt her, hard.

"Not yet, my needy little Chink," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction. "You Cum, when i deam you worthy of a reward."

Miranda's body trembled with anticipation as Garrett grabbed her by her Ponytail. She looked at his Monster of a Cock. "How should i get this in my Mouth ?, this are easily 8 or 10 Inches....How...."

"Shut up, Open your mouth," Garrett commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Miranda obeyed, her heart pounding in her chest as she prepared herself for what was to come. She could feel Garrett's cock sliding between her lips, his hands gripping her hair as he thrust himself deeper into her throat.

Miranda gagged as he fucked her mouth, her body trembling with pleasure. She could feel her orgasm building again, her body aching for release.

"Swallow every drop, my dirty little slut," Garrett commanded, as he felt his realese building.

And just as she was about to cum, Garrett shot his hot Thick Seed down her throat.

"Good girl," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction. "You pleased me well." But never forget, I decide when you get a reward"

Miranda’s breath hitched, her body frozen under the weight of his words. She remained kneeling, her flushed face tilted upward, her wide eyes locked onto his.

---

Garrett tilted his head, his smirk sharpening as he leaned forward. “Stand up,” he commanded, his voice firm. “Fix yourself. You look a mess.”

Miranda obeyed shakily, her legs weak as she rose to her feet. Without a word, she stepped to the small sink in the corner of the therapy room. Her hands trembled as she splashed cold water onto her flushed face, wiping away the sheen of sweat with a paper towel. She avoided her reflection in the mirror, focusing instead on finding her clothes and make herself presentable again.

Her blazer and blouse were slightly askew, the faint lace of her bra still visible at the edge of her neckline. She tugged the fabric into place, smoothing the wrinkles with trembling fingers. Once she’d composed herself, she turned back to Garrett, her expression subdued but focused.

Garrett leaned back in his chair, observing her efforts with amusement. “Better,” he murmured. “Now listen carefully.”

Miranda nodded, her gaze fixed on him. “Yes… Garrett.”

“Bree,” he began, his tone casual but laced with authority. “She’s into you. It’s painfully obvious.”

Miranda blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. “I… I know she’s flirted, but—”

“Stop,” Garrett interrupted, holding up a hand. “She wants you. Badly. And you’re going to use that to our advantage.”

Miranda’s lips parted, but she remained silent, waiting for his next words.

“You’re going to seduce her,” Garrett continued, his smirk returning. “Play into her desires. Make her trust you, crave you. But this isn’t for her—it’s for me.”

Miranda’s breath quickened, her cheeks flushing faintly, but she nodded slowly. “I’ll… do it.”

“Do it?” Garrett’s smirk vanished, replaced by a cold glare. “You don’t ‘do it,’ Miranda. You succeed. I need a phone in my hands one day before our next session. No excuses. If I don’t have it…” He leaned forward, his yellow-blue eyes piercing. “We’re done. And I know you can’t handle that.”

The thought of losing Garrett’s approval sent a pang through Miranda’s chest, tightening painfully. “I understand,” she said quickly, her voice almost pleading. “I won’t fail you.”

Garrett leaned back, satisfaction flickering in his eyes. “Good. Be creative. I don’t care how you do it—sweet talk her, manipulate her, break her. Plant whatever ideas you need in her head to make it happen. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Miranda replied, her voice trembling slightly, but the determination in her tone was unmistakable.

“Good,” Garrett said, his smirk returning. “Now go. You’ve got work to do.”

---

Miranda left the therapy room with trembling hands and a racing heart. Outside, Bree was waiting, her smirk widening as she caught sight of Miranda’s flushed cheeks and slightly disheveled appearance.

“Good session, Doc?” Bree asked, her tone teasing.

“Yes,” Miranda replied, her voice softer than usual. “Very productive.”

“So, dinner?” Bree pressed, her grin mischievous.

Miranda hesitated but nodded. “Fine. Dinner.”

Bree’s grin widened. “You won’t regret it, Doc.”

Miranda barely registered the words as she walked away, Garrett’s ultimatum and the mantra echoing in her mind. She had one task, and failure wasn’t an option. Pleasing Garrett was her only purpose.

Her new priority was clear: ensuring Bree delivered the phone—and proving she was worthy of her white bull’s approval.