FF983 - The Prescription for Submission
The atmosphere in the surgery room was tight with frustration. Charlotte, dressed in a red blouse and a black pencil skirt, pleaded with the nurse. She needed her prescription tablets, and she needed them now. She explained that her anxiety was crippling, her withdrawal symptoms unbearable. But the Nurse, dressed in a smart blue dress, stood firm. The pills weren't due for another week. She simply couldn’t release them early.
Charlotte's pleas quickly turned to threats. She leaned closer, her voice rising, demanding the medication, telling her how unfair the response was to be denied what was the only thing of value to her existence at present. But still, the nurse stood her ground, a wall in a white shirt.
Charlotte snapped. Reaching her limit, as her requests would not be met by the provider, if words could be used to try, and at least the physical presence could not be turned in. Her hands would now be the decision makers for all.
She hauled the nurse from her chair, spinning what was and has always proved, with limited options, and a choice was to be made.
The air then turned with anger and frustration. It had become an all-out brawl, with not just words but with each of their very strength the core, they both grabbed hard and with intent. The sounds of silk hitting and ripping made more damage then her actual skin, each now determined for their next strike what was to take place. To add insult to injury, their were feet to be seen. These hit hard as well, all trying to keep the upper level of the two with their power, with so little to live on now.
All respect and professionalism, had gone out the window. At that stage all was at stake as one was clearly in over her head
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