Corrective Treatment (3 page)

“Now, Sophie!” The nurse’s tone became quite sharp. “You deserve a good long bottom warming, you do. Fancy making this much fuss!”

Sophie did not appreciate the scolding or the warning. The woman spoke to her as if she were some rambunctious brat refusing to get ready for her bath. But that wasn’t the case. She was a young woman imprisoned for a crime she’d barely committed, a crime that should never have been a crime in the first place.

“Are you going to hold still and let us take that pretty cardigan off without damaging it?”

“No,” Sophie snarled angrily, her red hair falling over her face as she tossed her head furiously. “I’m not going to make this easy for you.”

“In that case, you’d better stay still,” one nurse said as she produced a sharp pair of scissors. “You don’t want us to cut you.”

Sophie froze as the cold edge of the back of the scissors ran up her midsection, slicing through silk and wool like a knife through butter. The scissors continued their journey up her body, taking her brassiere and the last shreds of her clothing in one smooth, obviously practiced motion. The woman had done this before, many times, Sophie imagined. There was a certain air of boredom about the nurses, the bailiffs, the doctor, as if this was just another procedure that would go by the book. She wasn’t any match for them, and they knew it.

Sophie let out a shriek of outrage as her priceless garments were ruined. Her eyes filled with tears of frustration as she watched her clothing fall to the floor in chunks. “That was worth more than you are!”

“Then you shouldn’t have put up such a fight, should you?” Another nurse spoke, sounding somewhat pleased with herself. She was probably jealous, Sophie figured. These women were all laborers. She was more privileged than they were and they probably hated her for it. She knew her fame did not always bring popularity. There would be a lot of people quite pleased to hear what had happened to her. They would say she deserved this, to be stripped naked and punished by strangers.

She was naked now, the curve of her breast and bottom, the soft lines of her stomach and thighs, every little sensual bit of skin exposed. It was enough to make her want to cry, but she was far too furious to cry.

“When I get out of here, I’m going to find all your names, and I’m going to make sure you all pay for that,” she said, her eyes narrowed.

“Spoiled, isn’t she,” the older nurse commented. “No surprise, really.”

“You don’t even know why you’re doing this to me!” Sophie argued. “I haven’t even committed a crime! I’m a prisoner of conscience!” As she spoke, rebellion raged inside her. She would not quietly allow them to punish her for having spoken her mind. What was the harm in wanting something different? Why did that put her at the mercy of six disinterested tormentors?

“Let me go,” she demanded as the last shreds of her clothing were pulled from her body. “Let me go at once!”

It was as if she had not spoken. Her verbal resistance meant nothing.

“You’re cowards, all of you,” she said, throwing words at them. “You don’t even know why you’re doing this to me. You just know you have an order.”

“According to the documentation, you were held in contempt of the high court, and the laws of this land,” the doctor said in distinctly stern tones. “You have been referred for an extensive correctional process, which is only becoming more extensive the longer you pitch this fit.”

He too, was looking at her as if she were some spoiled little brat. None of them seemed to much care that she was naked. The bailiffs were certainly getting an eyeful, but they seemed to know well enough to maintain a much more professional facade in front of the doctor than they had when they were alone with her.

“What does that mean?” Sophie bit the question out. “What do you mean, becoming more extensive?”

“It means you should take care not to behave in such a way as would lead me to believe an increased dose of correctional treatment is necessary,” the doctor said, a flash of warning in his bright blue eyes. “You have a certain level of discipline to receive, but that can always be increased to my discretion.”

“Oh, can it,” Sophie sneered. “I’m not afraid of you. You’re nothing. Nobody. You’re a button pusher in a white coat with a horde of willing harpies.”

The nurses did not take offense. They did not seem to know what harpies were. That did not surprise Sophie. Education was limited by the high court to key subject areas that made the citizens functional. Further reading and exploration was discouraged. If not for her father’s rank, Sophie would never have had access to the libraries where history and the writings of peoples past were contained. She would never have known how big the universe was, or how many wonders it had once contained. And, if she were to be completely honest with herself, she likely would never have ended up naked between two burly men with three nurses and a doctor looking on.

“Take her to the examination chair,” the doctor ordered the bailiffs. “Secure her well.”

“Oh, hell, no,” Sophie said, evoking some archaic curse words as the men stepped forward, taking her with them. “You are not putting me in that thing.”

The bailiffs kept moving, forcing Sophie to physically try to evade her fate. She did not want to be examined. She did not want to be corrected. And she didn’t deserve it either. Why didn’t they understand that?

“Let me go!” She yelled the order, as if volume might make a difference. It didn’t.

The bailiffs held her firm, even when she picked her feet up off the floor and tried to drag them down with her, kicking and squealing for all she was worth. Unfortunately, the bailiffs had been chosen for their sturdy statures and all her flailing had precisely no effect on them. They carried her to the chair and held her while the doctor strapped her into place, arms and torso secured with thick synthetic bands of material that made movement impossible. Her legs were likewise strapped into the stirrups, baring her genital mound to the doctor, the nurses, and the stoic bailiffs alike.

Sophie’s entire body flushed crimson as she sat there, breasts bare, nipples erect with fear and excitement, her body experiencing a hundred different impulses all at the same time—all of them thwarted by the bonds that held her exposed before the eyes of the corrective team.

“Let me go,” she repeated, but this time she sounded weaker even to herself. She tried to pull out of her bindings, but struggling did nothing. She had less than half an inch of play in her bonds, and almost every inch of her body was visible to the onlookers, all of whose eyes were on her.

“I’d usually dismiss the bailiffs at this point,” the doctor informed her. “If you’d done as you were told, all of this would have been a private affair. But as you’ve been particularly troublesome, I think their continued presence is necessary.” He turned to the nurse. “I will need a blade and some shaving cream. The treatment area needs to be clear.”

The treatment area? He could only be referring to her pussy. Sophie saw the bailiffs exchange pleased looks and she felt a hot rush of shame. She had no secrets from anyone in the room. The doctor knew exactly what he was doing by allowing them to stay.

“You’re sick,” she said. “You’re treating me like I’m nothing and nobody. It’s inhuman. You’re inhuman.”

“I’m treating you as I’d treat any aggressively noncompliant patient,” the doctor informed her without any hint of guilt. “It may be that you are unused to consequences and therefore view them as unfair, but you will discover during your time here that obedience brings rewards and disobedience causes discomfort.”

She felt a sting of chastisement. He was implying that she was spoiled. That wasn’t fair. He didn’t know what she’d been through, how she’d been set up to fail, how she was being made an example of. He didn’t care either. He was just doing his job, like an automaton.

Did automatons have eyes that made you feel as though you were being absorbed into them, though? Did one find oneself hoping for their glance again, even though they belonged to a man who was about to shave her nether regions?

The bailiffs were stationed back by the doors, out of direct eye line of the procedures, so that was a small comfort, but still Sophie was filled with embarrassment, especially when she felt her pussy mound covered with a warm, wet cloth. She wanted to close her eyes and pretend as though it were not happening, but she couldn’t help but look down between her bound legs, where the doctor was moistening her skin. Their eyes met as he pressed his palm right between her thighs, over her pussy. His touch and his gaze made her heart skip a beat. She felt little tingles racing over her skin, an illicit excitement that was rising in spite of her shameful predicament.

The doctor peeled the cloth away, leaving cool air to rush in and stimulate the delicate region. A moment later his hands returned, massaging shaving cream into the bright red bush that had protected her delicate womanhood from the gaze of the bailiffs.

The razor was a single straight edge, wielded in strong fingers. The doctor placed his hand above her pubic mound with just enough pressure to make the skin taut as he began clearing her pubic hair with clean strokes. The blade was sharp enough that she barely felt any resistance at all as the hair came away, leaving her pubic mound completely bare. He then moved to her lips, his fingertips pressing here and there to make sure he got a clean shave, touching her with a clinical but intimate touch that made her wish she could cover her face. Sophie had never been touched in such a way before. She could never, not in a thousand years, have imagined the first time a handsome man touched her between her thighs that she would be strapped into a medical chair, being shaved and punished for her crimes.

It was all very overwhelming for Sophie, who had not imagined her current predicament as in any way possible. Nobody had ever mentioned any kind of medical treatment after being convicted by the high court. She stared to feel quite floaty and short of breath as the doctor once more applied the warm, wet cloth to her pussy, smoothing away the last traces of cream and pubic hair and leaving her completely exposed to his masculine gaze.

“Are you alright, Sophie?”

It was the first time her first name had left his lips. She felt warm hearing it, as if he had caressed her gently. The question was delivered with more care than she had expected. Now that she was compliant and obedient, he was no longer quite as cold or as stern.

“No,” she said, her voice no longer rebellious as much as it was scared. “I’m not alright.” Her chest felt tight, her muscles tense. The lightheaded feeling was intensifying, along with her fear.

“Take a deep breath,” he said, smoothing his hand along the outside of her thigh in what felt like a friendly calming gesture. “This is all very new to you and you came in fighting, so you’ll have some adrenaline to process. Deep breaths and stay as relaxed as you can.”

As he spoke, his hand continued the stroking motion along her thigh, calming her as if she were a frightened captive animal.

“Look at me, Sophie.”

She looked into his eyes, found herself grounded by his gaze. She did not even know his name and yet she felt a connection, a knowing that didn’t make any sense and yet was completely natural. He didn’t speak another word, but somehow his eyes spoke to her, calming her little by little until she was able to take a deep breath that didn’t feel restricted by tension.

“Good girl,” he praised. “I’m going to do an examination of your intimate responses. It involves extensive stimulation of the genital region. You will feel a range of sensations, some pleasant, some less so.”

Sophie stared at him. The shaving had been bad enough, but she had held onto some hope that it was necessary for a scan of some kind, something impersonally medical. Not stimulation of the areas no man had ever touched before.

“Nurse, draw a vial of blood,” the doctor instructed. “I will begin the stimulation examination.”

Sophie barely noticed the sting in her arm as the nurse took the necessary sample. She was far too busy watching the doctor reach for a bottle of lubricant.

“I don’t need a medical examination,” she said quickly as he drew closer, standing between her spread vulnerable thighs. “I’m in perfect health!”

“You will require a full medical examination before the procedure begins,” the doctor said. “Both to ensure that you are able to withstand the corrective treatment procedure, and to see what kinds of stimuli are most effective for you. Every patient is different.”

As he spoke, a nurse applied sticky pads containing electrodes just below her nipples. Sophie felt the woman’s fingers pressing at her soft breasts, ensuring that the pads were properly in place.

Sophie felt a moment of panic. “Does this kill people? Corrective treatment? Is it dangerous?”

“It’s a matter of procedure,” the doctor repeated, as if he were a machine programmed with only a handful of phrases. “You will not be in any physical danger. However, you will experience varying levels of physical discomfit, as is essential to an effective correctional experience.”

His words were so clinical, so proper, but there was nothing proper about being splayed before a handsome older man, her quivering cunt entirely at his mercy. Sophie watched with wide eyes as he picked up a probe, a metal instrument with a rounded tip, about an inch and a half in diameter and perhaps eight inches long. She watched as he applied significant lubrication to the tip of the probe and then lowered it toward her pussy.

“Try to relax, Miss Eins,” he said encouragingly. “This does not necessarily need to be entirely unpleasant.”

Sophie let out a little gasp as she felt his fingers parting her lower lips to make the opening of her vagina accessible to the probe. The doctor’s touch was skilled and professional, but she could not help but react to being touched so intimately. She bit back a little moan as the tip of the thick probe was pressed between her inner lips. It seemed far too large to ever go inside her, not that Sophie could say that. She could barely form a coherent thought, let alone any words.

“Take a deep breath and relax your stomach muscles,” the doctor said. “You’re rather tense.” He held the tip of the probe to her pussy and turned a dial on the machine. A slow vibration began to shudder through the probe, stimulating her outer lips. Sophie let out a squeak of surprise, her hips bucking in an involuntary reaction that only served to make the tip of the probe slide up and down her lubricated slit.