Copper Hearts

Chapter 2: Arizona Part Two

had stopped calling her friends for support and came back from her privilege breaks from the psych ward five to ten minutes late. Whether or not she was snorting coke or getting laid, I did not like it.

“There is no effective treatment for anorexia.” I said intently as I stared at the screen. Like any piece of s**t would, he laughed.

“Of course there isn't. Our media feeds us a new unrealistically-shaped bimbo every week. Exotic faces can only be found through advanced genetic engineering.” I was never fond of Craig's ego and lack of sympathy. He laughed at matters that made young women call their own bodies “f*****g ugly” and resort to self harming, starving, purging, methamphetamine abuse, or committing to immense hatred of oneself over a simply godforsaken society.

“I need to be alone.” I said, hoping he would disappear without a word. Thankfully, he did.

—

The next time I f****d her, I made sure to bring lube. Her delicate little snatch was too tight for my nine inches to just slid inside of her painlessly. I prepared her syringe, along with mine, my c**k twitching at the thought of us shooting up together.

Heroin addiction never leaves you, in less words.

I entered her room quietly and debated between feeling her up til her eyes opened or waking her up with some head. As I approached her bed, my thoughts ceased once I noticed her eyes shoot open and a wicked grin spread across her face. My naughty Arizona. I thought as she slowly removed her blanket, and then her shirt. Her perfect C-cups which where now growing into Ds, in courtesy to the hormones we put in her food, were shining in the moonlight from her bedroom window.

I kissed her deeply. Her pouty lips parted, inviting my tongue inside to tease her. As we made out, I massaged her n****e with one wet finger I had saturated in her pink cunt. Her moans were getting sexier every time I saw her. I knew she enjoyed it with me. Her after-s*x glow said it all.

I made no rush with this one when it came to turning her on. With my knee pressed against her bare p***y lips, as she never wore her panties to bed, I edged it in further up against her c**t. I slowly rubbed her with my knee, feeling her juices soak the skin. Her moans make my balls tingle and ache. I then leaned down to lick her n****e, tasting her juices on the tip of my tongue. I massage the other breast in my hands as I begin to suck her n****e. When I looked up to see her to meet her eyes, she has them closed. She began to grind her c**t against my knee, humping it and continuing to moan like a goddess, her plump figure shining in the moonlight through her window. I gently grabbed her neck.

She came quickly. Her moans must had echoed down the halls as her orgasm came crashing down on her.

“Yes,” she whimpered as she swayed her hips feverishly. “Yes, daddy.”

I lay her down and took my length out of my pants. I doubted she had ever ridden c**k before. With how naïve she was a young lass, I was tempted to make her work. But first I had to ease her into deep penetration the correct way. With my hand still gripping her neck, I spat on her wet p***y and inserted three fingers inside. She shrieked as I shoved them in up to my second knuckle.

I jostled her cunt with my three fingers. She threw her head backward, humping my hand in momentum to my finger-f*****g. She spoke dirty words to me as she approached her second orgasm. With my other hand, I placed two fingers in her mouth. She sucked them obligingly, staring into my eyes and moaning like a slut. She wanted it badly.

I decided it was time to f**k her. Climbing on top of her, I took one of her legs over my shoulder. I searched for her entrance in the dark with my d**k in one hand as my other hand cupped her left breast. Something was wrong, however. I could smell her insecurity.

And nothing turned me off more than an insecure w***e.

“What's wrong?” I asked before inserting myself inside of her.

She hesitated.

“I hate my body.” The anger in her voice hinted that she was bordering on a hidden rage. The one thing I couldn't have f****d up more was being thrown in my face. I was suddenly angry because it was my accidental doing, fattening her up with medication succumbing to major guilt.

I didn't know what to say.

“You could always stop eating.” I joked.

Her fake laughter had me, in all ways, turned off again.

Sick of our conversation, I slid my d**k into her now closing vaginal entrance. She winced in pain.

“I need a hit,” she complained. I groaned and reached for the needle on her night stand.

“Let me do it,” I told her. Arizona’s insistence made me shake my head. “I know from your intelligence you don't know to go in the direction of the vascular blood flow.”

She was taken aback by this. I was surprised she had never been called stupid before in her life.

I wrapped a rubber band around her forearm and felt for the vein. I wanted her high as a kite; she was indefinitely going to feel pain during penetration. I took the syringe off the table, made sure there were no air bubbles and poked her forearm. It slowly went in, the baby needle passing through her skin into her vein. I pushed down slowly.

“f**k f**k f**k,” she moaned as it went in. I knew exactly what she was feeling – warmth and divinity. A safety blanket from any trauma she could possibly face. “My god, can I get a prescription for this?”

My face hardened. She was natural born addict. Ignoring her idiotic question, I finished off the injection only to see my Arizona slowly lay down and touch herself.

I fell in love with how she rubbed herself in front of me. In person, I mean. Not through her silly laptop webcam. Her luminous eyes lifted from between her legs to meet my gaze.

“f**k me, doctor.” She opened her legs and tasted herself. I watched her show for a little longer before banging some H myself. She was more than ready to be f****d at this point. I knew in the way all the blood rushed to her cunt, turning it a slight beet red. I set down my syringe, her leg still over my shoulder as I tapped the tip of my c**k against her tight p***y.

I slid into her. My three fingers had done her in well. She was still very eminently tight, aside from being lubricated and eager. I shut my eyes as I stiffened inside of her, keeping my c**k still. She started squirming again and so I pinned her free leg down. This only turned her on more. I began thrusting.

She tolerated my length well. Arizona moaned rather loudly as I slammed myself in and out of her throbbing, wet p***y. And when I put my thumb on her c**t, she whimpered. I couldn't help but grab her neck as we f****d in the missionary position, her moans making my balls fill with c*m that was soon to be bound to her walls. She was the perfect w***e, all enthused to f**k against her moral system.

This turned me on. We talked dirty as we fornicated, switching from missionary and doggy style, a blowjob in between. She loved every second of my c**k in her mouth. Dirty, dirty girl.

At one point, she told me she was getting sore. I climbed off of her and quickly came in her mouth. Her face was that of an astonished girl as she guzzled it by my command and swallowed.

“Good girl.”

—

It didn’t come as a surprise to me once I found out what was truly on Arizona’s mind. She was talking in her sleep moaning my first name.

“You think I have no idea,” she snickered. “You have no idea I know it’s you.”

I stood in her doorway, assuming she was awake. She wasn’t. Her eyes were shut and her voice was raspy – that of one who was in a deep sleep.

“I know why I’m being kept here longer,” she added. “You can’t get enough of me, Cal.”

I just stared at her. This was something she dreamed of doing, clearly. Whether or not it was in the past. I wasn’t worried she was going to report me. Young women with BPD crying r**e was a typical case in where people seldom believed them.

I sat down on her bed and stroked her cheek. Her eyes darted open, fully alert.

“Hello, again.”

“Do you miss your family?” I expected a no.

She laughed a little too loud. Her manic giggle echoed down the halls, ringing off each plastered brick.

“We don’t get along.”

No s**t. Her mother didn’t visit her once in the four weeks she was kept in my custody. I could tell she didn’t want to talk about it, so I slipped her some Vicodin and left her to sleep soundlessly. As I left her room, she called out to me;

“I wouldn’t mind a bed time story, y’know.”

I turned around to face her. “Once upon a time, there was a dirty slut.” I began. “She didn’t know how ravishing she was.” A wild grin spread across her face as soon as I started walking towards to her bed. “She had borderline and body dysmorphia, two life-altering mental diseases. She hated her body so much she wanted to cut it up once.”

She gasped. I sat down on her bed and took out my H. I went on as I looked for my vein. “All she needed was some c**k, and that was all.”

“Can I tell you something?” she didn’t even give me a chance to reply as she blurted, “I almost lost my virginity to a guy I met online. I’m glad it wasn’t him I chose.”

Oh, you didn’t choose me, dear. I thought as I started to feel her up. I caressed her hair and held her hand. Kissed her cheek and nibbled on her ear. She spread her legs, inviting me in. Of course she wasn’t wearing her panties.

I lay over top of her. My delicate Arizona moaned in my mouth as I made out with her, my hands trailing down her body. I was about to make love with her until I heard an alarm.

I was the f*****g on-call doctor that night as every other night I had stayed off-shift. This pissed her off immensely.

“What the hell do you mean you have to go?” she complained, pulling her shirt back on.

“It’s an emergency.” I answered, “I have to form someone, they’ve been rampant this past week. We only expected him to become violent.”

“Just tell the nurses to medicate him.”

“I might lose my job for that.”

She cursed and turned the other way. I apologized and left out her doorway into the halls. All I could think of was the taste of her nectarous little cunt on my way to seclude the male who had thrown a hissy fit at the nursing staff.

“Jordan, you were warned about your violent behaviour. We do not abuse the hospital staff.”

“Sorry, doctor. I got hooked on those benzos you prescribed and yelled at your nurses.” He replied. “Won’t happen again.”

He knew the system too well.

“I’m still putting you on a Form 3. I’ll have Nathan hand you the list of lawyers you can call once you’re out of seclusion.” I said as Shelley handed me the Form 3 paperwork.

“Aw, come on, man.”

You ruined a night that could have gone well. I wanted to say. But staying in that stretcher for an entire night strapped down was enough of a punishment for him to be forgiven. As said before, life is tough when you are mentally ill. I held it against no one.

—

When it came time to let her go, it was rather painful to think of never seeing her again. To wonder if she was going to be okay or if she was to relapse in about a year’s time. How many people she would’ve told.

She was in a good place when I had discharged her. She was smiling more often and setting life goals. No longer possessing that burdened look on her face.

What I never expected was for her body dysmorphia to get so out of hand. Arizona ended up killing herself six months later in her bedroom while her family slept. I watched her slit her wrists in her bed from her laptop webcam.

I did call an ambulance, but she had not made it. I watched her stab herself multiple times all over the rest of her body, just as she had insisted on months before. Not one of the paramedics could help her enroute as she had bled out everywhere before they could arrive.

That night, I made a promise to myself I would never have another relationship with a patient again. I will never know if I had anything to do with her suicide, if I was a stepping stone for her expectations of boys; if she had been feigning her progress. She had worked close with Amanda Presley. We had all failed her.