"Her cheek glides across mine and her teeth nip the corner of my ear. 'I don't think we should be doing this' I stammer. She chuckles deep in her throat and there's this awful, clicking sound. Something like what an insect would make, down below her voice box. A cricket maybe, clustered in a dark corner. No, that's not it either. It's like, the fact that I can't describe it makes it all that more horrible. She starts sinking, her knees buckling on either side of me. And I grab her shoulders, hard, but she just shakes them off with a shrug. She latches onto me, banging me against the wall. God, the sensation! Never felt anything like it. My spine freezes. Glued together. I can't do anything, but still I'm not worried. I figure once we get to the main event a few strokes and I'll be back in the driver's seat. Her arms snake around me and lock around my chest like she's going to give me a bear hug, but hugging is not what she has in mind, and all the time her mouth is relentless, practically chewing its way between my pecs. Now, I don't mind telling you that I am a guy that is used to having the upper, lower, and middle hand. But no matter what I did, that little skankbucket was two steps ahead of me. She was just too quick-- zigging every time I zagged. Soon, I realized that I was not the one who was going to be driving this bus. Most of what I saw was the top of her head whirling around, but once I got a glimpse of her eyes, just a corner, really, and I knew that she didn't even see me any more, she was so frenzied. Her eyes could have been looking at the bumps in the wall. I was invisible. I felt like something stationary. An appliance. A refrigerator that she was raiding in the middle of the night. Taking what she wanted, shelf by shelf. And the noise she made. Goddamn. I was sure that someone was going to bust in there and demand to know what the hell we were doing. To pry us apart at least. But no one came. And the worst of it was, when we were done. When we were finally finished. She just tosses back her hair, tiptoes back to the gurney, and slides back under the sheets with a little smile on her face. A smirk. Then immediately, she conked out. I was stunned. Floored. I wheeled her back to room as fast as I could, scooped her up and deposited her on the bed. I don't know what I would have done if she had woke up again. After that, I expected all Hell to rain down on me. Nothing happened. But I figured, okay, that was weird, but it's over. Keep your lip zipped and collect your paycheck. It will never happen again. But no. Here's the thing. They are all like that. Every single mother-loving one of them. I learned quick to wheel them back to their beds as soon as possible. That if I was ever in the room with them when they woke up, that it would be another three-round wrestling match, with management looking the other way. Or maybe they were looking. Recording it somehow. Whatever was going on, it creeped the skin right off of me. I worked until I was square with the casino then I got the hell out of there. Let me tell you, I am never going back to that island again. Things are back to normal, almost. I cruise around, hit the bars, live my life. But every time, every time I catch a good-looking woman looking at me, I wonder, is she one of them? Is she from... The Clinic?" -- Andrew.