Corrective Treatment Read online

  The doctor did not seem to have much sympathy for her. “The records say differently. They say that you have been meeting in secret with members of different echelons. They say you have been recorded planning a revolution against the echelon system, that you are a potential figurehead for chaos and anarchy.”

  Sophie pressed her lips together and said nothing. It wasn’t as if he had asked her a question. He was just restating the charges, which were more inflated than she had imagined. A figurehead for chaos and anarchy was probably putting it harshly, but why not.

  “Corrective treatment will not be considered effective until a confession is made, either a full admission to the charges as laid, or an explanation of your true intentions,” the doctor prompted. “If I do not hear some confession from you, we will be stalled at the first stage of treatment.”

  So he wanted the truth. The whole truth. Nothing but. Fine. She had nothing to lose anymore anyway. She was already tried, convicted, and in the grasp of a man who had shaved her pussy and penetrated her in front of several strangers.

  “I intended to enjoy myself. To live my life outside the golden cage I was born into,” Sophie said. “I like the lower echelons. They are kinder, warmer, and more real. They know what it means to really live life and have fun.”

  A thick, refined brow rose in her direction. “So it is as simple as seeking drinking buddies? For that you put your reputation and station at risk?”

  “My reputation means nothing to me,” Sophie said as the doctor passed the warm cloth over her stomach, gently removing the beads of sweat rolling from her abdominal plane. “Reputation is a prison. Worrying about status restricted me more than these straps ever could. I am free now, doctor. Free from being Sophie Eins. I have fallen, and I don’t ever want to be redeemed.”

  Chapter Three

  “I have fallen, and I don’t ever want to be redeemed.”

  Sophie’s words struck home for Richard, echoing in his ears. In that moment, he quite forgot that his patient was naked. The sight of her sprawled before him, her puffy lower lips still seeping her juices was nothing compared to the passion and conviction with which she spoke. He had been with beautiful women before, but never one with a spirit like Sophie’s. She was more than merely pretty. She was lit with a fire that he both admired and was concerned by. A woman like this would not easily be corrected—perhaps because she was not truly wrong to begin with. He was not sure if she really believed in equality for all, or if the cause simply suited her desire to throw off the shackles of celebrity and adoration, but he knew she was absolutely resolute in her resistance.

  Richard turned to his monitors, running his eyes over the report that was automatically generated now that the introductory phase was complete and the first stage of treatment was over. Sophie’s responses were at the high end of the normal range, at least in terms of pure data, but what he was seeing in her eyes and hearing in her voice was anything but normal.

  Thus far the treatment was not being interpreted as a punishment, that much was certain. She had orgasmed her way through the most intense stimulation, which made her a challenge on yet another level. If there was to be any discipline at all in the process, he would have to make some headway on the mental and emotional levels.

  Aside from her beauty and spunk, there was no doubt in Richard’s mind that she was the most unrepentant, absolute naughtiest subject he had ever worked with. Her responses to the judges had been recorded in her files. She had spoken disrespectfully, rudely—and with almost total accuracy.

  How then, to rehabilitate a young woman who was so convinced of being right? Most corrective treatment subjects came in quaking and eager to recant. They wanted their treatment over with as quickly as possible. But Sophie was already quite clearly going to be a case of extended treatment. Her comments about a golden cage made him think of the accommodations she had waiting for her. There was not much in terms of gold in the cages of his facility.

  Subjects for extended corrective treatment were required to spend their time in containment, small rooms with small beds and little else. Extended corrective treatment was rather rare, but Sophie’s resistance and sentence meant that there was no way Richard could have released her even if he had wanted to—which he didn’t. There was a particular appeal to the young lady, a fire in her spirit that made him rather like her. She was a challenge, but Richard liked to be challenged.

  “You know resisting the process will only extend your stay.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to leave,” she said, smirking at him. “Maybe I want to stay here forever and ever.”

  She was being sarcastic, but he thought he saw a flash of something more in her pretty eyes. He would have forgiven her if she’d hated him. Many people did. For most, he was a ruthless tormentor, a man they would remember and fear long after their experience of corrective treatment. But although he had put Sophie through a grueling sexual ordeal, there was no hate in her gaze. Instead, there was something that seemed to answer the way he was feeling about her.

  It was not Richard’s job to fraternize with the subjects. It was his job to ensure that the corrective treatment was administered effectively and to the letter of the law. Now that the procedure was over, he should have called the nurses to clean the subject up and escort her to her cell, but instead he found himself taking soft warm wipes and gently cleaning her vulva and anus with a tender touch. Her lips were still swollen, of course. It would take some time for her genitals to recover from the first session. She let out little gasps as he tenderly wiped away the lubricant and residual arousal, sounds that could have indicated pain or pleasure, or more likely, some combination of the two.

  As he worked the cloth between her quivering thighs, Richard mentally planned the next stage of her treatment. The second session was always more directly discipline-oriented. Usually a paddling given by machine, but Richard was beginning to think it might be more effective given over the knee. What Sophie needed most was a good hard spanking, an ancient punishment method, involving placing the young lady over his lap and sharply striking her bare bottom with his hand.

  Sophie was very responsive to erotic stimulation, but he wondered if she might react quite differently to a more personally given punishment. Corrective treatment tended to be scientific and even cold in many respects. Sometimes that worked. But it was not working terribly well in Sophie’s case. Even now, held in restraints with her pussy being tended to by a man who was little more than a stranger to her, she was not suitably concerned.

  “This is a waste of time, you know,” she said, confirming his private thoughts. “This punishment, I wanted it. I practically begged for it. I mean, I didn’t know this was what would happen, but even if I had…” She trailed off as a fresh blush passed over her skin.

  She seemed to be admitting that if she’d known what laid ahead of her, she would have eagerly chosen it. Richard believed that.

  “It is not uncommon for subjects to find the initial examination pleasant,” he said. “The discipline is yet to come.”

  “Whatever is coming, I welcome,” Sophie said boldly, lifting her chin with a defiant air. Even strapped into a medical chair, her thighs slicked with the aftermath of penetrative examination, she had an air of dignity about her. “You and your masters cannot change me.”

  Richard said nothing. Of course, she thought he was one with the authority. She thought he believed as they did. The reality was quite different, but she was not to know that.

  “You’re a tool,” she declared. “Of the establishment. You’re just like that probe you used. Cold and vibrating.”

  Richard smiled to himself. It was hard to believe that minutes earlier she had been wailing with orgasm. How quickly the young and the bold forgot themselves when they were lit with idealistic passion.

  “It is time you went to bed,” he said. “We will resume our treatment tomorrow.”

  “Bed? Tomorrow? I’m not going home?” Sophie’s stoic demeanor collapsed as she gave
him a look of alarm. “But I… that was the corrective treatment? Wasn’t it? Isn’t it done now? Or, can’t I go home before the next session?”

  “That was part of the corrective treatment,” Richard informed her. “We will continue your treatment tomorrow. You will stay here until your treatment is finished.”

  Her eyes went wider still. “But it only takes a day. That’s what they said. Everybody knows that.”

  Richard wasn’t sure if Sophie had really not known that she could be held for longer than a day, or if she had simply told herself that in order to make dealing with the treatment a little easier. She certainly seemed shocked by what seemed to be a fairly sensible notion; if one was resistant to treatment, the treatment took longer.

  “Actually, corrective treatment takes as long as it takes. Usually, yes, a day is more than sufficient to bring about the desired results. There are several stages, which can often be completed in a matter of hours. In your case, I do not feel that today’s session has had a significant impact, let alone resulted in the attitude adjustment required.”

  Sophie’s jaw dropped. It seemed she had not considered that she could find herself a long-term prisoner of the establishment.

  “But I… was sentenced… only for…”

  “You were sentenced to corrective treatment,” he said. “I determine when that treatment has been effective.”

  Her eyes flashed and narrowed. “So you are holding me here,” she said. “A prisoner of my conscience. Undergoing punishment is not enough. You wish to break me.”

  “Sophie, you have barely been punished at all,” Richard replied. “You have been defiant, you have been disrespectful, and I have no doubt that you would immediately return to your previous illicit activities were I to release you.”

  “You… you…” Sophie spluttered. “You asshole! You scum…”

  He sighed. He had hoped to release her from her bonds and send her to bed, she had endured enough for one day, but this attitude had to be addressed. Before she could get out another word, the flat of his palm landed across the puffy swelling of her lower lips and mound.

  He felt the wetness of her pussy against his fingers as her thighs quivered and jolted. She let out a shriek of shock and stopped swearing, her eyes wide. The pain would have been sharp and it was certainly intimate. It stopped her tirade before it had a chance to get started.

  “That is enough, young lady,” he said firmly. “You will speak to me with respect.”

  He saw her lower lip tremble. Now that the sexual stimulation was gone, she was more vulnerable. The slap had no doubt hurt her tender little pussy. He gave her lower lips a soft rub to dissipate some of the sting, then moved his hand away.

  “I am going to release you from your straps, then take you to your cell,” he informed her. “If you behave yourself, you will not be punished further today. If you act up, you will regret it. I can promise you that.” He spoke with an authoritative growl, making it clear that he was prepared to give even harsher punishment if necessary. “Do you understand?”

  She averted her eyes and gave a little nod. “Yes,” she said in a small voice. “I understand.”

  With that, Richard began to release the restraints that had held her in place. When the last one slid from around her slender wrist, he took her by the hand and helped her stand. She was unsteady on her feet, unsurprising given the amount of stimulation her body had received in a relatively short period of time.

  He looped an arm around her waist to help her stand, using his body to steady hers. He was rewarded with a furious scowl.

  “I can walk, doctor.” She squirmed out of his grasp and stood defiant and naked, frowning at him with the arrogance inflection of brow and nostril only a young lady of impeccable breeding could muster.

  “Then walk this way,” he said, leading her from the treatment room out a separate door from the one she had entered through. This door led to a short hall with six doors in it, each leading to a small containment cell.

  He stopped at the first on the left, opened the door, and ushered Sophie into the room. It was all white, the walls made of a material that could be wiped down with antiseptic so the entire cell could be completely decontaminated within seconds if necessary. The bed was narrow and the mattress was thin. A single starched sheet, a flat pillow, and a white synthetic blanket were all that adorned it.

  Sophie stopped and stared in horror at the accommodations, and let out an audible gasp when she noticed that the toilet was next to the door of the little cell, not separated by so much as a curtain.

  “You cannot keep me here,” she said in horror, her eyes wide as she looked at him with utter confusion. “This is not suitable for my status.”

  “You lost your status when you were convicted,” Richard reminded her. “You will regain it only when you are discharged. Until then, you will have the basics and nothing more.”

  She had not looked so horrified at any stage of the process than she did at that moment. Being publicly shaved, having her pussy spanked and probed, none of it compared to that little room with its sparse furnishings.

  “You’re going to leave me in here? Alone?” She sounded almost plaintive. Suddenly she didn’t look cocky or seductive. She looked small and scared, and very much out of her element. Richard felt a twinge of pity for her. Sophie had never known a single day outside the pampered lifestyle she had been born into. She had never been contained, certainly not in a cell six feet long and four feet wide. He was fairly certain that she would panic once the door was shut and the lights were off. If she had not been such a little brat, he would like to have comforted her, but he could not play two roles at once, not yet anyway. If he showed kindness he was almost certain she would mistake it for weakness and then the treatment would take twice as long.

  “Prisoners are incarcerated between punishment sessions,” he said firmly. “You will be roused early tomorrow to begin the next session.” He turned the light off, using the switch located outside the cell door.

  “Doctor?” Her voice seemed softer in the half light.

  “Yes?”

  “Would you leave the light on, please?”

  It was something of a respectful request, he supposed. “You won’t sleep well with too much light,” he said. “Just lie down and close your eyes, you won’t even notice the dark.”

  “But…”

  Protocol dictated he shut the door and leave her to her own devices. But Richard could not bring himself to do it. Instead he left the door open and stepped into the cell with her.

  “Get into bed, Sophie,” he said in soft, but firm tones. “Be a good girl. You’ve had a long day, and taken enough punishment.”

  She looked at him, then slowly did as she was told. She sank down on the bed and pulled the blanket up over her naked body with a quiet, forlorn demeanor.

  It didn’t seem right to leave her there. If he were acting on instinct, he would have scooped her up and taken her to his much more generously appointed quarters. He would have soothed that concerned look and he would have talked to her about her behavior, tried to reason with her. But that was not his job, and it likely would not have done her any good. Richard was sure many people had tried reasoned conversations with Sophie before she got to the point of being publicly tried and sentenced. She had not listened. She had not believed that there would be consequences. The most caring thing he could do now was let her experience the full weight of those consequences.

  “Good night, Sophie.”

  Chapter Four

  The door shut behind the doctor, taking the light with it. Sophie lay in the bed and stared into the darkness. For the first time, she was beginning to think she might have made a mistake with regards to being so defiant. If she had apologized in the courtroom, maybe the judges would have forgiven her. It was not in anyone’s interests for her to be publicly punished. Her supporters would be angry. The growing unrest would continue to bubble. And she would suffer until the doctor had his way.

&nb
sp; None of this would be happening if her father were on the planet, but he was off as per usual, too far away to be contacted, unaware of what was happening to his only daughter. Sophie loved her father, but he barely seemed to notice that she existed. Her mother had passed when she was young, leaving Sophie in the care of nannies and other paid staff while her father pursued political power. Ironic that his power was completely useless to her now.

  Forgetting her father, Sophie’s thoughts wandered back to the doctor. His handsome face filled her mind as her hand slid down between her legs. Her pussy felt different without any hair. There was an ache between her thighs, both residual from the discipline and something more, a new desire.

  The doctor was hot. He was probably a good decade or more older than her, and he was part of the authoritarian establishment she loathed, but he left her with a quivering sensation deep in her loins that would not let her sleep. He had spanked her pussy. He had made it clear that her body was his to do with as he pleased. He had made her inner walls stretch and quiver and he had drawn orgasm after orgasm from her with an expert touch.

  Her fingers played lightly over her lower lips, tracing the caresses he had given her.

  She should have been furious with him, but Sophie found her thoughts drifting pleasantly. She had not been with any man. Her father had not permitted it, and even in her most rebellious moments she had not been interested in the young men who regarded her as a figurehead. But the doctor was different. He was masculine and he was strong.

  He probably thought she was just a silly spoiled upper echelon girl. He was so stern it was hard to know what he thought, but she imagined she had seen a few glimpses of warmth from him when he touched her gently, when he gave her some respite from the orgasms he had torn from her again and again.

  It did not feel as though she were a prisoner of the authority. It felt as though she were the doctor’s prisoner. His alone. The thought put a little smile on her lips. In all her days, Sophie had never met a man she couldn’t twist around her little finger with a pout or puppy-dog eyes. But the doctor didn’t respond to those kinds of manipulations. He was smarter than that. Smarter than her, probably. Sophie didn’t know that she’d ever met a man like that before. There were academics, but they tended to be dry intellectuals ill-versed in human interactions.