The Wetsuit part 3

Author: indisciplined
Title: The Wetsuit, Part 3
Date: 29 February 2012

I awoke as the lights flickered on, still lying on the cold rubber-matted floor where Dr Smith had left me. And no Dr Smith immediately in sight. More important, the tickling sensation that had tortured and paralysed me was gone. My whole body ached within this blasted skin-tight wetsuit, but I could move. Seizing the chance to make some kind of escape from this basement, I jumped to my feet, only for a solid sheet of pain coursing through every muscle in my body to sent me straight back down to the floor.

“I don’t remember saying you could get up”. I turned to my right, and there was Dr. Smith, sat on the front of the desk at the far side of the room, his legs far apart, relaxed and nonchalant. The remote control in his outstretched hand. But now he seemed far more sinister, The everyday clothes in which he had greeted me yesterday, that made him look so normal, repalced by what I imagine was his true tastes: A doctor’s white coat, his jeans now leather, and the designer Chelsea boots now replaced with knee length riding boots.

“Let me go you fuc…AGGGHHHHH!” My protest was interrupted by another bewildering wall of pain, leaving my lying face down on the rubber tiled floor.

“I don’t remember saying you could talk either. But I DO remember saying that the fibre optics in the suit had other uses. Being able to deliver intense pain right across your fit little body being just one of them.”

I didn’t try to get up this time, but tried to reason with my captor “What do you want from…..AGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!”

“Again, I didn’t give you permission to speak. Ah, something we have to work on, beautiful, but no manners.” Smith chuckled “The pain is different every time, by the way. It’s random; what muscles the suit attacks, and how intensely and for how long it attacks each one. You probably can’t tell, it all feels the same exquisitely painful experience. But its not, and that ensures that your body and brain can never get used to it. Every time you force me to discipline you, it will be quite unique. And it entirely up to you how much I have to discipline you. It all depends on how badly behaved a boy you want to be.”

“Please, just……..” but before I could say any more my body exploded in intense pain pulsating across my entire body, and this time it was no short sharp shock, but a continuous wave of agony sweeping wildly over my entire body, on and on.

“Please AGGHGGGGGGGGGGG……stop…..PLEASE!!!!” I screamed in non-stop, but constantly-changing pain

“Apologise” said Smith

“I’m AGGGGGGGGH Sorry”

“Say ‘I’m sorry for speaking without your permission, Dr. Smith, Sir’ “

“I’m AGGGGGGGGGHH, sorry for speaking without your permissioAAAAAAAAHHHH Dr. Smith, Sir”. And with that the pain was turned off like a switch.

“Better. You may thank me, now”

“Thanks”

“ ‘THANK YOU DR SMITH, SIR” he barked.

Not wishing another wave of pain I quickly complied “Thank you Dr. Smith Sir”

“ ‘I shall not try to move or speak without your permission again, Dr Smith Sir’ ”

“I shall not try to move or speak without your permission again, Dr Smith Sir” I repeated.

“Better. Remember, I only have to punish you because you misbehave. And I don’t want to have to be so harsh to such a pretty, pretty boy. The fact is, I want our time together to be enjoyable. But I do believe that what youngsters like you need is old-fashioned discipline. In my experience, rebellious young lads just need a strict, firm hand. And I don’t even have to use my hands”, he said, brandishing the remote control, then winking, added “But I will.”

“Now, Very slowly, I want you to crawl, on your hands and knees, over to me.” Powerless to resist, I glared at him. ”NOW” he added. Powerless and humiliated, I complied.

“And be quiet. You can speak when you are given permission to do so, and you will speak only for the purposes I permit. Young people should be seen and not heard, unless they are saying something that either demonstrates their obedience, or…heightens their attractiveness.”

Slowly, I crawled like a baby the ten feet or so towards my torturer. Never in my life had I felt so under control.

“SLOW-er” he barked “I’m not in a hurry, so neither are you….That’s better. Get lower to the ground, sunshine. And stick that peachey bottom of yours right in the air. I want to see it wiggling as you move towards me.”

Now almost dragging my torso along the robber-tiled floor, I complied. My only, silent act of resistance being to stare angrily at my captor, wishing him dead. This made him laugh out loud.

“Oh yeah, keep staring at my, sunny. After all my generosity, you can only respond with anger. What a spoilt little brat you are. Just shows why I have to teach you some manners, and gratitude. Pulling faces won’t hurt my, boy, but I can’t hurt you very easily.”

Finally, I reached shiny riding boots. “As you’re down there, my boots need a clean, boy. Why don’t you give them a polish, with your tongue.” Stunned, I clearly didn’t move fast enough, as the suit delivered another searing wall of pain. ”I gave you a direct instruction. And I think by now you understand what happens when you disobey.”

Reluctantly, my tongue touched the toe of his highly-glossed right boot. “Faster” he ordered, delivering another shock, longer than the preceding one. “Put some enthusiasm into it” I tried to speed up, fulfilling his bizarre request, but the whole thing was so alien to me: How are you supposed to lick a boot? “Put you back into it. There are two boots there, remember” I transferred to his left boot, hoping I was providing him with whatever strange enjoyment he wanted to get out of my actions, hoping I wouldn’t be shocked again for getting it wrong “Show some pride in your work, young man. Right, that’s enough. Pathetic, but you’ll get lots of practice with which to improve. Now, get in that chair, and we’ll move on to the next exercise.”