bondage – Not A Real Doctor

They made her sit there and shake while they dragged the steel tub into her cell and filled it, a simple garden hose and its stream of cold water, little drops landing on her knees when it splashed. She was rope-bound, of course; she was always bound these days, both for easier handling and because they’d discovered it aroused her. One of them lightly rubbed the knot at her pussy back and forth as the water level slowly, slowly rose. Her pulse refused to climb back down out of her throat. She was very, very afraid, and very, very humiliated that the hose wasn’t the only thing in the room that was gushing.

“I can only hope,” said her doctor, when the tub was about half full, “that our subject understands the reason behind this disciplinary action.”

She looked up at him frantically and dipped her nose down three times, the silent way she’d been taught to ask for permission to speak.

“Granted,” he said.

“P-please, I promise, I wasn’t breaking the rules of my treatment plan,” she said quickly. “I know that it’s important for my own welfare not to viol–to violate the–”

“The evidence speaks for itself,” he said, bending down to rub the wet spot on her sheets between his fingertips, then inspecting them. “You were observed to take restricted actions during lights out, and the recording suggests strongly that you achieved orgasm by means of that action.”

“I didn’t–I’m sure I didn’t–it was a dream!” she said. “I didn’t even know it was happening! I only woke up when you–when the orderly entered my cell and, and began inspection.” She couldn’t tell if she was pale with fear or flushed with embarrassment.

“Do you know what the medical standard for measuring pain tolerance is, Anya?” said the doctor. “Cold water. One simply times the seconds for which a patient can hold their hand and forearm submerged. It’s simple, consistent, and harmless.” He rinsed his fingers in the tub, which was rapidly filling to the top now, and wiped them on her chest.

“It wasn’t my fault!” she said, voice rising to a hysterical little-girl cry.

“That’s not important,” he said gently. “Your body took actions that are contrary to the goals of your treatment. Whether you intended those actions is irrelevant. We will now reinforce, to your body, that humping the corner of your bed as a form of masturbation leads to negative consequences. You will internalize the induction of pain and the restriction of oxygen, and next time, your eager little clitoris will hesitate before it drags the rest of you down to its level.” He nodded to the orderlies.

One of them took the rope that ran down the front of her body and back behind her, tying it to the bar of her cell so that her head wouldn’t hit the bottom of the tub. The other slipped his arms under her shoulders and lifted her, tilted her forward, and let go.

They could all see the air burst from her lungs just after she broke the chilly surface; they watched, the doctor scribbling a couple of notes, as she thrashed in panic, hair drifting wild around her head. “Someone got their watch on?” he asked. “I’d say give her another thirty seconds. Just for the first dip.”

“How many rounds today, do you think?” asked the first orderly, pressing one heavy knee to the back of her pelvis so that he could continue the inspection of her genital response to new stimulus.

“Oh, until we get paged for something else,” the doctor shrugged. “It shouldn’t be long, really. But from what I’ve seen, I think she’ll be good to the last drop.”

(You might also enjoy my water tag, or–for a crueler take on this–one of the chapters of my Literotica story, “Enhanced Interrogation.”)

Behavior correction case file #10011A. Subject was followed, observed and recorded by a specialty team for two weeks before intake, in order to establish an unbiased diagnosis. Subject’s attractiveness is not in question, and indeed monitoring her habits while alone and when consuming pornography indicate no significant problem with nudity in concept or practice. The operative part of her stated problem is indeed a fear of exposure. We will therefore begin with exposure therapy.

Subject will of course be stripped upon intake, and will remain unclothed for the duration of her stay. She will also be blindfolded, and both her vision and her movement will continue to be constrained during each session with her treatment team. Said team will inform and remind her that they were assigned to watch her at all times during the assessment period, through every private moment, and that there is nothing left for her to hide from them. They will reinforce this message with touch therapy and manual stimulus. Subject’s physical arousal will be taken to edge steady-state and held there for the duration of each session; data on the subject so far indicates that such a state will depress her overactive executive function and generally augment the effectiveness of treatment. Only at the conclusion of each session, during an extended orgasm, will the subject’s blindfold be removed long enough for her to be forced to watch herself–exposed and observed at a moment traditionally granted only in intimate settings.

Over time we believe the subject will not merely grow used to nudity, which would be simple to accomplish but also miss the deeper issue. In addition, she will acquire a conditioned arousal response to all feelings of exposure or humiliation that bypasses her hesitation and doubt entirely. Such a response should not only alleviate any sexual performance issues she had experienced in the past, but will make her a valuable addition to the therapy objects stored in Annex G2. This treatment plan gives us, at least, a great deal of confidence.

They were always carrying equipment into the half-constructed house at the end of the cul-de-sac. Sawhorses, power tools, coils of rope and cases of bolts and fasteners. Big long crates, too, heavy enough that they needed two men to carry them, or sometimes to stack them on a forklift.

They left the floodlights on inside all night, and ran heavy machinery at odd hours, grinding or shrieking or clattering and bothering the neighbors. Eventually they complained enough that a man came out from the county to talk to them. He stayed inside for a couple hours and then left, returning several more times over the next week. His final report was that he couldn’t find any evidence of a problem.

Kelly used to bike by the place all the time when she was younger. Now, at nineteen, she’s finally seeing what it’s like inside. You wouldn’t expect a normal house to take years of building, would you? Who would wait that patiently for their home to be completed? Who knows. Construction projects always take longer than you expect.

Behavior Correction Manual Article 5.44(A): Bargaining. Understand this: given sufficient time and regular treatment, your subject will eventually offer sexual favors. This differs from the feints or pathetically transparent seduction attempts one often sees early on in subjects who believe they are cunning. The offers we discuss here are desperate and genuine, and appear later. They are part of an attempt to bargain purely as a coping mechanism, even if the terms of the offer the subject presents are far from clear.

You may be tempted to take this as a sign of progress. It is in fact a form of backsliding, and must be discouraged. Consider:

A bargain is a deal struck between peers. At the Institute, a subject surrenders claim to peer status prior to treatment.
An offer of sex implies three things to be traded: availability, anatomy, and willing participation. A subject is always available; can have her anatomy accessed at any time; and is required to participate in any act her therapist finds useful.
Trading is a form of economic control. Control, at the Institute, is a virtue exercised solely and entirely by our hardworking staff.

Recommended strategy in response to this behavior includes general depersonalization and forced sensation, often including deep-penetration therapy. Pictured above is subject #218, formerly “Melissa.” Note the use of heavy vaginal/vulva stim combined with degradation positioning and an inability to support herself against her retention hook. The subject was required to repeat the exact words of her original offer to a series of staff members until she became incoherent, then left in situ overnight before repeating the exercise for a full week. By its conclusion, when presented with video of subject-initiated versus staff-initiated sexual activity, she exhibited a marked preference for the latter.

The basic principle at work is this: almost universally, subjects who arrive at the Institute do not know what they want. To allow them to complete a cycle of desire-request-fulfillment is counterproductive and harmful. Instead, by concentrating our work on manipulating, guiding and hyperprovoking desire to the breaking point, we can show them what they actually need.

littlefeministbitch:

I was thinking about this earlier. It legitimately terrifies me and I want to say I don’t want to do this because it’s so frightening or too dangerous. I look at this and start to get a taste of the sort of things I would experience in this situation, a hint of that primal flight response, the struggling, the panic. And I get turned on. Of course I want to do this. It’s frightening and dangerous.

The interesting thing is that from the other side, it’s not about the fear, not about the danger—at least for me. You’re completely safe. There’s no way I’m going to let anything serious happen to you, no matter that you’re naked, bound and completely helpless. If you didn’t trust me, after all, there’s no way this scene would even have started.

The water and the ropes serve the same purpose: they constrain you, remove your options and your ability to choose what happens to your body. They reduce you to reactions. They make you an instrument, to be stimulated or denied, no matter how you fight. (They also make you wet.)

You can always go limp, when I make you fight me. You can always refuse to react, or at least muffle your reactions. Not when I drop you into the tub, though. The reason I put you in there is because I can make you panic. You’re back to a thrashing, panicked thing beneath me, your body struggling even though it will make you run out of oxygen faster.

In a moment I’ll haul you out, turn you over to cough, watch your chest and back heave with your frantic breathing. And then maybe I’ll play with you, in your dripping, helpless state, before I drop you in again. It’s a shortcut way to create a specific behavior. The struggle is what I want from you, and right now, it’s what you’re going to give me.

The Exam, Part Two

They wouldn’t even let her keep her pretty little socks on.

Her daddy braided the rope into her hair while the doctor guided her hips to one side and slowly pulled her trembling fists away from her mouth. “Can’t have you hiding from the students, now can we?” he smiled, and carefully tightened the cuff around one wrist. “Besides, we don’t know where your fingers have been.”

“S-students?” she squeaked.

Her daddy began to loop the doubled rope in a cuff around her ankles, slowly pulling her head back, making her look up wide-eyed at the doctor as he cupped each of her breasts and palpated them. When it seemed he’d checked them out quite thoroughly, he shook a pair of clamps on a chain out of the pocket of his white coat.

“Nuh-uh,” she whimpered, looking down as best she could, increasingly unable to move her head to track them. “Nuh-UH.”

“What did we say about being bratty with the doctor?” purred her daddy, giving her a sharp little bad-girl spank between her legs.

“I’m sorry!” she gasped. “But I didn’t—I don’t—I’ve been GOOD—”

“Even good girls need to wear the right testing equipment.” The doctor patted her cheek, then reached down to grab her nipple and tweak back and forth a few times. She couldn’t help but let out a little whining sound when he tightened the first clamp onto it. “We have to make sure you fit in with all the others.”

“Others—” was all she said before her daddy, pulling on a spare glove, silenced her by pushing three fingers into her mouth.

Pacified, sucking automatically at them as they fucked against her tongue, she barely even noticed as the second clamp tightened down and the doctor unset the brake on the table’s wheels. Dazed, increasingly sunk in a very particular headspace, she watched them roll her—stripped, bound and exposed—out of the room and down a hallway. The wheels bumped over the threshold of an elevator, where a couple of other doctors glanced over at her with mild interest, and then turned away.

When they rolled her out, she saw a bank of other tables adorned with squirming, hogtied girls, and one empty spot in the middle.

“See? Nothing to fear. Still, we can give you a little something to soothe your nerves,” smiled the doctor as he pulled up a tray of gleaming surgical steel. The something in question turned out to be a heavy, bulbous plug, which he was able to work into her slippery ass without much trouble at all.

It worked, too, enough that once it was in, her daddy pulled out of her mouth and left her throbbing and panting and trembling—but not afraid. Being filled always helped her feel this way, like she was being used correctly, like she could stop guessing and flinching and just be where she was told to be.

“Acute regression,” the doctor was saying as his students gathered around, peering at her taut-bowed body. “Like most of the others in this group, we can prolong or intensify the effect with mild genital stimulation.” Some kind of plastic instrument pressed against her, parting her lips; a set of rubber nubs settled against her exposed clit and clicked to buzzing life. She squeaked, panting harder, looking up at them all in open-mouthed vulnerability as the flush spread from her cheeks down to her throat and chest.

The students all noted that down.

“Go ahead and form two lines to take a closer look,” said the doctor, “one on the left side of the table, one on the right. Remember, fresh gloves for each orifice! She’ll be staying with us during each day for the duration of the study, and released to her caretaker at night.”

Her daddy patted her hair as the anonymous people queued up to look inside her, one after another. It was clearly something they were getting used to practicing: speculum in, speculum open, a few swabs of the gloved fingers, speculum closed and out. The ones in front of her didn’t even bother making eye contact, just took her chin one by one and probed inside her cheeks, under her wet and gasping tongue. She would have been trembling even without the little instrument still teasing her clit.

Every one of them took a moment to toy with the plug and watch her react to it. Every one of them tapped a few times on the clamps, and scribbled a note or two.

By the time they’d all gone through both lines, she was a blinking, speechless mess, so deep in her own head that she couldn’t remember the way back out. “You’ve been SO brave,” she thought she heard the doctor murmur, bending down to stroke her ear while Daddy rubbed one thumb along the back of her neck. “And you’re all done for today! Tomorrow will be a little… longer, but you did just fine, and your Daddy and I agree that you can earn a new treat every time. Won’t that be nice?”

“Uh—uh huh,” she whimpered, even that little sound requiring an enormous feat of concentration.

“You’re here because you’re very, very special,” smiled her daddy. “I’ve always known it. The doctor here is just going to prove it. Isn’t that exciting, sweetheart? You and all your new little friends are going to be part of something absolutely wonderful.”

It wasn’t a real border crossing detention center; she’d figured that out when they stuffed the ball gag between her teeth. It had cut off the sputtering protests about her passport and questions about where they’d taken her friends quite effectively. Something told her that there would come a time soon when they’d start asking pointed questions; they just probably wouldn’t care what she answered.

In the meantime, though, they had dragged her off into one of the cinder-block cells for the “courtesy” of a private pat-down. The agent assigned to her seemed much more concerned with some areas than others. At one point, he rummaged in his pocket, pulled out a little plastic bag with a foil packet in it, and tossed it nearby.

“Oh, it was very unwise to try to import this particular substance,” he purred, holding her squirming body against the hot concrete. “The minimum sentence is five years of labor. Labor for which you will need very thorough training. And if we find anything else tucked away inside you, tourist girl…” He shoved her dress up and adjusted the glove on his fingers, grinning. “There may be a corporal element to your sentence as well.”

Panting in fear, knees trembling, undeniably dripping with things other than sweat, she got the distinct feeling that she’d find one particular thing tucked inside her very soon.

“Ugh, can you put that down and help me for a minute? We’ve got a fighter over here…”

“Wait, really? You can’t handle her on your own?”

“Come ON! She’s really squirmy, I don’t want to drop her.”

“Christ. All right, let me put this one down. I keep telling you, if you get a grip on the collar and then shove a few fingers in the other end, they’re a lot easier to hold onto. See?”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, careful, you just left the keys on the ground there…”

“Eh. Let her stare at them for a minute and whimper. What’s she going to do?”

Mornings at the Institute. Dr. Kelling poured hot water over the Chemex, waiting for the bloom to rise, while Dr. Jackson rolled her eyes at him and sipped the double shot she’d picked up at Starbucks on the way in. “All right, weekly assessments,” she said, tapping a few keys and bringing up a six-camera multiview on the screens above them. “Let’s do the ones in fully automated treatment first. Case file… uh, 877? Hannah.”

Kelling swiped idly down his tablet, scanning the highlights of her case. “Right. Twenty-one, admitted back in January, initial response meters 2/7/6, A-cup. Under personal treatment for a month after intake, transitioned to partially automated care in February, encouraging results…” He squinted up at the screens. “She’s in a modified Jelenko rig, right?”

“Shows a surprising amount of tolerance for it, actually,” mused Jackson. “It reconfigures her stress position every few hours, but she’s been able to take sustained penetration and nipple stim at intensity level 7 for most of the day, most days.”

“Orgasm?”

“One permitted every ten days, if she shows progress… huh, she’s a little overdue, actually.” Jackson leaned forward to a microphone and activated the remote address system. “The subject will identify herself.”

“S-subject 877!” Hannah just managed to choke out, whimpering as the machine continued to pound her cunt. “This subject is happy to be used as a wet hole! This subject is–nnngAAHH!” She arched and jerked as the nipple stimulators engaged their electrical mode. “Th-this subject is eager to comply with treatment! This subject is sorry for her l-loss of composuOH GOD!”

“What is the subject’s chief concern?”

“Service! Oh fuck, PLEASE allow this subject to be of service!”

Kelling made a wry face and leaned into the mic as well. “Is the subject just saying that because her needy cunt wants to come?”

“N-no! I mean–th-the subject means YES, doctor, her needy cunt wants to come, but NO doctor, she is telling the tru–”

Jackson cut the sound. “Eh, I don’t think she wants it bad enough. Let’s check in again next week. Maybe get somebody in to make sure the Jelenko is equipped to do DP as well.” She watched the screen a little longer, as Hannah babbled on in silence and Kelling tapped out some notes. “What was she originally admitted for, anyway?”

“Hmmm. Looks like… occasional attitude problems and possible attention deficit.”

Jackson let a little smile cross her face. “Well. I’d say she’s getting better all the time.”

You don’t actually have to communicate voluntarily in any way for this assessment. In fact, your statements would be more likely to hinder the process. The goal is to derive directly from your bodily response the levels of stimulus at which you feel pleasure, at which pleasure starts to transition to pain, at which you achieve edge, and at which you are driven to orgasm regardless of preference. Even if you were able to do more than gasp and squeal, we trust the level of muscle tension and blood flow in your pussy more than your mouth.

That’s what the contact patches on your lower abdomen are for, you see: assessment of the tiniest change in reaction as our tech works you over. We can chart your growing arousal as we apply pressure and vibration, heat, cold, and pain. We can watch it spike when we control your breathing. We can see what it does to you when we chuckle at your helpless squirming, and which of our selection of degrading terms for you produce the strongest effect.

You’ll be glad to have completed the examination when it’s over, no matter how you may struggle while it’s in process. Trust us. With the plans we have for your next phase of treatment, knowing where to start stretching your limits will be helpful for all involved.

Behavior correction case file #902: Alex. Subject was introduced socially to Dr. L, and was diagnosed “in the wild” with sexual frustration, general insolence, and an inability to self-manage combined with an independent streak too wide for her own good. She was referred for an evening assessment by our house-call team. Subject displayed vehement disagreement with the team’s conclusions and was restrained for her own safety. Continued restraint is advised, for the time being, except when under strict supervision.

Alex is a natural submissive in deep denial of her essential self, which means she has been suffering emotional pain and dissonance for some time without being able to identify a cause. This in turn has led to her becoming hostile and lashing out at herself as well as those around her. Fortunately, our staff is accustomed to such referred pain, and even better, we have the tools to deal with it.

The subject will begin each morning with a sensory overload regimen: ritual bondage, exposure, depilation if necessary, and heavy applied stim to the nerve centers of maximum humiliation. Forced orgasm is an expected byproduct of this treatment, and we will of course track any such effects. Feel free to question the subject about her experience, though she is not expected to respond usefully for some time. In no case is the treatment to cease before the subject has screamed herself hoarse.

By this time, the subject should be more pliable. Take her to the workroom of choice and consult the attached training syllabus for the topics we expect to cover. They include oral, anal and vaginal service, self-identification and understanding of her new role, proper posture, apparel selection or lack thereof, pain management, and a very thorough course in obedience by means of operant conditioning. Feel free to continue education for as many shifts as seem appropriate; in case the subject’s energy levels seems to be flagging, remember that workrooms are stocked with fresh tubs of ice water hourly.

We will evaluate the subject’s progress each month, and expect to see significant improvement in attitude and aptitude by Q2. At this point, Dr. L plans to conduct a series of personal evaluations of her self-image and embrace of her most genuine self, and may take her on as a personal project. We expect that by then, she will be grateful for the opportunities offered by such focused work with a supervisor. Be sure to remind Alex just what a lucky subject she is.

Behavior correction case file #440 UPDATE: Ivy. While the subject has shown marked improvement under treatment so far, recent indications are that progress has plateaued. It may simply be that we have reached the limitations of what can be achieved by coaxing and instructing, and need to move on to working directly with the subconscious.

Simply put, Ivy will be put on overload. Each week, her chart will be updated with a randomized stim schedule, with staggered rest periods at irregular intervals to disorient her and induce repeated fugue states. She will spend the majority of shifts in some form of sensory deprivation combined with vibration, penetration, focused impact, and utilitarian bondage or encasement. She will never know exactly who is using her body, how long a session will last, or whether she will be permitted (or punished for) orgasm. Any information she gleans about her current circumstances will be drip-fed and incomplete. Monitor pulse levels, and feel free to switch things up to keep them high.

Between these sessions, Ivy will be folded into a small case and transported to the recovery chamber on level 4. She will spend recovery time unbound but collared, and dressed in minimal decorative garments, which are to be referred to as “pretties.” She will see a small, consistent set of supervisors during these periods, who have already been briefed on treating her gently but addressing her in diminutive and reductive terms. Soothing, petting, and cuddling are encouraged. Subject is to feel as if she is receiving special treatment (which is in fact true), but also in firm and careful hands.

Until, upon waking, she finds herself at full use again.

The overarching goal in this case is to simulate a fractured reality. The subject should come to believe that her stim sessions are a dream when she is in recovery, and that her recovery is a dream when she is under stim. The alternating stresses of this contradiction should provide opportunity to examine and manipulate her psyche to an otherwise unattainable degree.

The closest we have come to using this form of therapy in the past has been as a punitive measure against hostile actors bent on harming the Institute. The intent for those subjects was to break them. With Ivy, however, it must be clear that our intent is pure and therapeutic. We do not expect her to break; we expect her to blossom.

Behavior correction case file #114: Jennifer. WARNING: subject is noncompliant and presents a danger to staff and herself. She claims to be a close friend of another long-term patient of the Institute, and attempted to enter the facility undetected to secure her release. During the process of her apprehension by security, subject injured several orderlies and a doctor, and continued to be uncontrollably violent until forcibly sedated.

For her own protection, Jennifer has been fitted with a set of long-term restraints and secured via suspension in a padded ward. Said restraints are to remain in place until both her primary and attending therapist have confirmed that she is no longer dangerous. It is not expected that such confirmation will arrive this year.

During her intake interview, subject indicated certain opinions that point toward specific anxieties in regard to sex, deviance and femininity. The first object of her treatment will be to explore and exploit these to the limit. Subject’s vulva will remain symbolically above her during all sessions, kept open via spread leg restraints, and covered only to maximize the impact of repeated revelation.

Jennifer will be subject to impact therapy and corporal punishment of labia, clit, vagina and cervix until fully sensitized. When hypersensitivity to even light pressure is established, the therapy will switch to heavy stim and dual penetration. Each morning and afternoon, repeat this set of exercises–restarting if necessary–until subject can actually watch herself drip with arousal. Induce orgasm only via electricity and pain; once achieved, continue to induce for the remainder of the session, even if that means a considerable part of the day.

The incontrovertible evidence of her own arousal response to such treatment, combined with her residence environment, should lead to deep cognitive dissonance and humiliation for the subject. We will take advantage of this liminal state to plant new seeds for a healthier, more accepting, more sexuality-driven outlook.

We have high hopes for Jennifer’s rehabilitation, and will likely keep her on even after a successful course of treatment is complete to use as a model resident. In the same way that “therapy dogs” can provide comfort and pleasure to the traumatized, we plan to use Jennifer as a “therapy object” upon which other patients may express their frustration or violent impulses.

All that is in the future, of course–right now let’s concentrate on reducing the risk of harm to others, by inflicting harm on her. –DT

“Nineteen hours. How is our little prisoner holding up?”

“Oh, she’s broken. Has been since late yesterday. At this point the only thing keeping her from babbling every secret we could possibly want is the gag in her mouth.”

“She certainly exhibits all the signs. Pupil dilation, rhythmic groaning, humping the toy like an animal. Has she been permitted to come yet?”

“She almost got there once, but we think we caught it in time. A bucket of ice water brought her back. No slip-ups since then. She’s been held at the edge so long she’s practically putty.”

“So do we plan to ask her any questions?”

“We ask plenty, we just don’t let her answer. Increases her desperation, plus we’re recording the whole thing to prove to her bosses that she hasn’t given away anything sensitive. She’s a much more valuable for barter if she hasn’t been unsealed, so to speak.”

“How long will it take to get the recording to them?”

“A few more days. And they’ll need a week to decide on terms after that.”

“Nineteen hours. I wonder what she’ll be like by the time she finally leaves.”

“If her predecessors are any indication, Ma’am, in her own mind she’ll never really leave at all.”

Behavior correction case file #108: Lillian. Subject arrived at the Institute intoxicated, with what she claimed was a “groupon,” entitling her to “sexy orgasm lessons.” Subject became belligerent and demanded to learn how to achieve female ejaculation. Her phrasing at the time was “don’t you guys do this kinda stuff? I wanna squirt, dammit!”

Lillian ejaculated for the first time within fifteen minutes of initiating therapy. As of this writing, one week into continued work with her, she has been induced to ejaculatory orgasm 82 times. While she expressed increasingly strident regret and anger about entering the Institute once sobriety returned, such behavior is common among new patients, and can be ignored under the terms of the release she signed voluntarily.

At any rate, as treatment continues, the subject is less and less vocal and seems to have difficulty articulating complex ideas or indeed finishing sentences. The current goal of her program is to mold her body into a training model for future ejaculatory therapy, to be stored and “checked out” by staff and instructors as needed. When not in use, she will be mechanically stimulated to orgasm once per hour, and hydrated by means of throat intubation.

If this pilot program is successful, we envision a growing library of such single-focus training models, possibly to be housed in the unoccupied room B of the annex. Other useful exemplars might include electrostim, extravulvar orgasm, trigger-word subconscious response, or gag reflex suppression.

Behavior correction case file #82: Lucy. Subject is an exhibitionist who enjoys withholding; she has chosen to decorate her body with piercings and extensive tattoos, which she enjoys flaunting, but has very rarely been observed to do anything more than lead on her admirers for attention, privilege and financial outlay.

Lucy will be taught to understand that her body is property, and communal property at that. We’ve set up a special rig in the entrance hall of the Institute, the one with the glass floor that opens down over the subterranean levels. She has been installed there in a rope harness which can be repositioned with ease, and a timer indicating the minutes she has been left untreated. The counter has only two digits; we expect it will not need more.

Given that the Institute is run on a 24-hour shift system, there should be no difficulty in ensuring that the subject is in near-constant use. A jar of lubricant, bridle, electrical stimulus device, and various other tools are available from the check-in desk. Orgasm is not to be strictly avoided, but not encouraged either–employ a clitoral clamp if necessary. The subject will not be addressed directly during her stay here, but may be discussed as an object in the third person within her hearing.

At the conclusion of each week of training, Lucy will be pressed flat to the glass floor while staff members watch from below, stimulated via heavy vibration until sensory overload, and then asked to choose her next tattoo from a selection of words and symbols indicating her status. Charting her pliability and eagerness to accept such markings should lead to a good indication of her treatment progress. When she starts begging for the next one before we can even get the needle humming, we’ll know she’s on her way to being cured.

Stage two: pierce her clitoral hood, fold her into one of the transparent lockers in the hallway on 6B, and set up oscillating electromagnet for continuous stim.

Behavior correction case file #32: Laura. Subject has no deviant behavior patterns in a range outside the norm, nor does she exhibit any signs of danger to herself or others. Simply put, the Institute sometimes requires a baseline subject or two to establish the expected results of therapy. In the experimental model, these subjects are the controls.

Laura was stripped, waxed and bound in the back of the Institute’s response vehicle before she ever entered its grounds. Inside, she is to be isolated and kept in restraints at all times, with rope preferred over cuffs for practical reasons. She will be addressed only in pejorative terms, when she is spoken to at all. “Subject” is the common term, but “girl,” “cunt” and “hole” are also acceptable.

The majority of the subject’s time here will be spent in focused, direct stim. She will be placed in a modified presentation strappado, quite roughly if necessary, and will have basic heavy tools applied from morning bell until the evening shift has concluded each day. This is a therapy normally only used at such significant doses on subjects capable of multiple orgasm; it is not established whether this subject has such capability, nor does it matter. The object of the therapy is to break the subject, which end it will achieve regardless of which forced orgasms are pleasurable and which are painful. (However, monitor logs should note effective refractory period over time, to see how it is affected.)

After the study concludes, orderlies and practitioners alike are welcome to run small-scale experiments on the subject as they see fit. In the meantime, however, isolation remains paramount. Subject is to see only her handler and monitor, when necessary, at unpredictable intervals. Her world will soon be reduced to pain, pleasure, struggle, orgasm, and surrender.

Current diagnostic criteria: subject will be marked a success when she can beg for more and make her handler believe her. Other suggestions for testing the subject’s permanent acquiescence are welcome. [Note from DT: Have any ideas?]

thinkivykink:

After shipping, it’s typically recommended that you cut away the straps.

But who are we to rush you?

“I know it’s been a little while,” he said, chuckling as he patted her flank. “But I’ve been busy, and your warranty doesn’t start until I take you out of the packaging, you know. There’s no point running it out before I have time to take you for a proper test drive, now is there?”

Elise could do little but glare up at him. The straps still kept her perfectly immobile, and the matching ring gag held her mouth open in a perfect O, “TRY ME!” still emblazoned on the tag next to her cheek.

“Now, I did finally have a chance to sit down with the manual,” he said, as if this were reassuring. “I just skimmed it, really, but one thing stuck out to me. It says you actually can’t enter ‘full functionality’ mode until you’re unstrapped. That is, you can react and feel and lubricate, but try as hard as I might, I can’t make you come. Did you realize that?”

She stared, open-mouthed, as if she had a choice. Surely he wasn’t–he couldn’t. No.

“I thought I’d just give that limit a spot check,” he grinned, lifting her out of the box and up onto some kind of work table. Beside it was a pegboard, hung with tools–probes, clamps, voltmeters and a heavy, well-used Hitachi. He picked up the last and tested it against the palm of his hand; it buzzed like the world’s biggest, angriest bee.

“The other thing I read,” he said, setting it down next to her face where she had to stare at it in fearful anticipation, “was that you have some diagnostics enabled. Voltage output indicators, for instance. Here and here.” The red and black alligator clamps snapped onto her nipples before she could move, but she arched and squirmed and tried to shake them off anyway.

“See?” he took her face in one hand, pressing it tightly and twisting her head to look at the needle bobbing at the left side of the meter. “But then when we apply stimulation…” He flicked the Hitachi back on and started to work it down between her tightly bound legs.

The vibration was incredibly strong–strong enough that it didn’t have to be anywhere near her clit to start sending pulsing waves of irresistible pleasure through her. Elise thrashed some more, but she wasn’t going anywhere, and the tool was wedged tightly against her. The needle rose, and rose, and rose… and stopped, hovering close to the right side but not going any farther.

“They weren’t kidding,” he grinned, delighted. “You absolutely do have a built-in lock. And I can keep you pushed right up against it for as long as I leave this thing turned on.” He turned to get out a roll of black electrical tape and began winding it around her to keep the Hitachi in place. “Oh yes, little toy, I think we’re going to have quite a few tests to do before we decide to ruin your collector’s value.”

Whimpering, throbbing and already beginning to grow frantic with frustrated need, Elise started to wonder if her warranty would cover a broken brain.

welldeservedrestraint:

It’s been too long since I’ve tied you up with a vibrator and sat back to watch you thrash and squirm through orgasms.

“Let’s try this again, Kinsey. Did you, or did you not, invite me up to your dorm room for the express purpose of tricking me?”

She shook her head, hair falling down over her eyes, which were large and dark and innocent.

“So the toy currently seated inside you–did you buy that in the belief that you could somehow humiliate me by getting me to, ah, insert it? Or did you buy it for your own use?”

Her eyes darted back and forth, not sure which answer made her look worse.

“Have you already forgotten? Let’s remind you exactly what I’m talking about.” He slapped a button on the side of the remote, turning it on to full.

The toy was not a small one, and its high-discharge battery pack had barely started. Kinsey yelped through the tape and wriggled around, which only made her little black shorts ride up and tuck the vibrator more firmly into its place inside her. She opened and closed and flexed her hands, bound with tape even more securely than her mouth, unable to get to any position that would help. Little frustrated grunts of breath escaped through her nose as he watched. And waited.

Finally he slapped it again, and she sagged in relief. “So. You remember exactly which toy I’m talking about, Kinsey?”

This time her nod was quick and emphatic.

“Let’s continue with the sequence of events. You plied me with alcohol–inexpensive alcohol. You challenged me to a card game. You lost deliberately but lightly, while getting me to what you believed was a point of intoxication where I’d take you up on some rather outlandish wagers. Do you agree with any of that assessment?”

Kinsey rolled her eyes as she nodded. He flicked the switch just for a second. She jumped, and kept her eyes on his face when she nodded again.

“And then you tried to cheat.” This time it wasn’t a question. He tapped the remote against his chin. “And I caught you.”

Kinsey tried to protest at length through the tape; he let her, watching carefully, not letting the cheap scotch in his system show in his face. (Though maybe in his actions.)

“Now, you didn’t disagree with that, Kinsey,” he said when her muffled words ran out. “Which is good! I’m glad you’ve decided to adopt a little honesty. But we still have to figure out what an appropriate forfeit is.”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed, in a face that clearly said: I thought this was the forfeit.

“Nope,” he said, smiling cheerily as he turned the speed dial down to low and flipped the switch back on. Kinsey started to squirm again, but this time she was watching him, starting to figure out where he was going. “The forfeit, I think, is this: I get to use this toy you so kindly bought for me until the batteries die. And I get to record it. On the camera I strongly suspect you hid in that closet.”

She panicked, jerking and kicking desperately as he slowly turned up the speed, but the tape held fast. He turned and flicked open the closet door with one finger, smiling at what he found.

“Well, Kinsey,” he said, “little cheater, it looks like I’m the one who’s going to have the blackmail footage when we’re done with the evening’s games. Might just be that I pocket it before I get around to untying you. Might just be that unless you want it distributed, I get to come back here any night I want, and bring some fresh batteries, and start a new game.”

The power was all the way up now, and Kinsey could barely get a squeak out for gasping. He slapped it off. Then on. Then off. Then on again. Each time, she thrashed like a caught animal, even as her big, pretty eyes were starting to glaze over with pleasure and a rapidly growing need.

“The thing I like about games is the element of chance,” he grinned, picking up the scotch bottle. “And there’s a chance I’ll get tired of this before I make you beg me to leave it switched on.” He took a swig and settled down in the chair, smiling, tapping on, off, on, off, on. “Or there would be. If I were going to play fair.”

Behavior correction case file #874: Andrea. Subject is a journalist who has been publicly critical of the Institute and its methods, and who has gone to great effort to publicize our rather discreet facility and draw media attention. The Board was content to maintain our policy of not talking to the press until it became clear that the subject had compromised the privacy of patient records as part of her crusade. With the help of the Institute’s friends in influential government positions, subject was admitted to determine the extent of her dangerous obsession.

Andrea poses a conundrum: how are we to combat her monomania with regard to our organization without, in turn, reinforcing said monomania? Our current plan is to replace her focus on the Institute with one more immediate and pressing, and then begin to work on her generalized priorities while her superego is decommissioned.

To that end, subject has been assigned to an experimental new form of storage locker, designed for violent or problem patients. She will be exposed, locked into rigorous restraint, and fitted with an anal contraction monitor that will monitor her approach to orgasm. This monitoring, in turn, will inversely control stim level, as well as oxygen restriction via throat chain.

Combined, this simple system has shown the ability to keep test subjects at a full 99.9% edge for at least 72 hours at a stretch. Interestingly, the technique is more effective when the subject is resistant to the training method, which gives us high hopes for this application. Sleep deprivation is a useful side effect for molding the subject’s worldview, as well.

Be sure to check the subject every day or two and assess current ability to vocalize, answer questions, and recall simple facts; within months she should reach a state of sufficient pliability to record a voluntary admission statement, waiver, surrender of power of attorney, and so on. We can then draw up a fuller treatment plan that will incorporate the desires of the many staff therapists who would like to work personally with her.

Obviously, even after the first stage of treatment is complete, subject is to be clitlocked and have self-touch permissions withheld. Soon climax will be her only conceivable goal, and all her investigative reporting will fade from public consciousness. Estimated time to first orgasm: one year.