Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 This is a work of erotic fan fiction.  I claim no ownership of any
characters in this fic; no depictions are meant as accurate reflections of
the celebrities on which these characters are based.  I have changed the
situations so much that I think (hope!) this can be enjoyed without needing
to know anything about the real people.

   I also claim no historical accuracy.  Anachronisms abound for the sake
of this depravity.

   Story codes: celeb, humil, medic, bd, enem, slash, span

   ~~~~~~

   Louis stayed on his stomach after Doctor Payne left, his bum too heated
and painful to even think about trying to lie in any other position.  Left
to his own devices and with nothing to do, he'd let his mind wander, trying
to imagine how the hell he'd make it through the next few days, let alone
an entire month.  Not for the first time, he cursed himself for finding the
enemas arousing in the first place, otherwise he wouldn't be here.  What
was it Doctor Styles had said would happen after dinner?  An enema?  Louis
shuddered to think what kind of concoctions these would be.

   Some time later, the door opened again, and in came Doctor Styles with a
small metal contraption on wheels that looked like a coatrack.  Louis
gulped once he saw what was on it: the equipment for the enemas he had
worked himself up over since his whipping.  The tubes looked even more
intimidating in the starkness of the room.

   "Hello, Louis," the doctor greeted him with a smile far too cheerful for
a man who ran a facility like this.  "How was your dinner?"

   "It was fine, thank you, Doctor Styles," Louis muttered, resting his
chin on his hands and glancing over to the doctor.

   "Please, I really do not mind if you call me Harry." The doctor began
setting the equipment up, uncoiling the tubes and attaching one end to the
already-filled bag hanging on the rack.  "Come here, up on the horse, just
like before."

   Slowly, Louis stood, wincing at the pain in his bum from both the plug
splitting him open and the welts raised on his skin from the whip.  He
tottered over to the frame, letting Harry pick him up and start strapping
him down.  He heard the man hum and felt the large hands running over the
marks, and Louis gasped at the contact.

   "I see Doctor Payne did a nice job with you this evening." Louis hated
how he could hear a smirk in Harry's voice, like he was just an object to
be touched and talked about.  "Those will fade by tomorrow, don't worry. 
We don't like to break the skin.  That would be unnecessarily cruel."

   Unnecessarily cruel?  Wasn't everything about this place already cruel?
Louis rolled his eyes, glad the doctor couldn't see his face.

   The slap to the inside of his thigh came out of nowhere, and Louis was
too surprised to bit back a yelp.  "Respect, Louis, is a lesson you clearly
need as well as self-control," Harry scolded him, gripping the base of the
plug.  "You'll get your enema, and then you are to go to bed.  Most of my
patients say the first full day is the hardest, so you'll need your rest."

   Louis fell silent, clamping his lips shut as the plug was pulled out
none too gently, only to be replaced with the long rubber nozzle.  Only a
few whimpers escaped him here and there, if the nozzle was jostled inside
of him or if the cramps lasted longer than he was used to.  He kept a count
in his head, and estimated it was about five minutes before Harry began to
untie him.

   "Use the chamber pot in the corner to relieve yourself," Harry told him,
undoing the bindings around Louis' hips, "and then leave the pot outside.
One of the nurses will come and replace it during the night.  Are you a
very light sleeper, Louis?"

   "No.  I'm used to noise in the house most of the time, so I don't wake
up as much anymore," Louis said, standing and wobbling a bit on his feet as
he clenched his bum cheeks, trying not to let any water leak out.

   "Good, then hopefully the nurse entering your room while you sleep will
not wake you."

   Blushing furiously at the fact that Harry's eyes never once left him,
Louis expelled the water into the pot, face burning red with a new kind of
embarrassment.  "Good boy.  Bend over now, hands against the wall."

   Louis bristled at the words `good boy,' something about the tone that
made it sound awfully patronising.  Still, he did as he was told, heart
beating in anticipation.  What else was there to do to him?  Something else
was nudging against his stretched rim now, something--oh, the plug again.
This one was slightly smaller, a bit narrower and not as long, but filled
him nevertheless.  "Do I keep this in whilst I'm sleeping, Harry?" he
asked, turning his head to try to look at the doctor behind him.

   "Yes, you do." Harry gave the base of the plug a little pat, drawing
another little cry of discomfort from Louis.  "You're done for the night.
Sleep well."

   Louis waited until the doctor was gone and his lights were shut off
before curling up on the cot in the corner and spending the next hour
trying to fall asleep.

   Sleep came eventually, along with dreams of red shapeless monsters with
elephant-like trunks chasing after him.  But he woke up three or four
times, inexplicably hard as the plug shifted inside him every time he
rolled over.

   The blond man came in to wake him up, eyes bright and his movements far
too lively for it being seven o'clock in the morning.  "Good morning!" he
exclaimed, yanking the covers off of Louis, who whined and reached out for
them.  "It's time for your bath, come on, now."

   Reluctant but fearing what might happen if he didn't listen, Louis got
up, letting himself be led toward a door at the very end of the hall. 
"What's your name?" he asked, blinking owlishly.  If he was going to be
seeing the man this often, he figured he should at least know his name.

   The Irishman introduced himself as Niall, and proceeded to tell Louis
about how his neighbor's dog also happened to be named Niall.  Well, at
least he was pleasant, Louis thought as he stepped into the small washroom.
It held a tub and a sink, along with a stack of towels placed on a wooden
stool in the corner with a bar of soap sitting on top.  "Nurse Walker will
be in shortly.  See you at breakfast!"

   Louis revised his earlier judgement of pleasant to far too cheery for
this place.  Unsure of what to do, he moved the towels to the edge of the
sink and sat on the stool, foot twitching nervously as he waited.  It
wasn't long before the nurse came in holding a large bucket and a
washcloth, a pretty blonde girl who looked alarmingly close to his age. 
"Hi, Louis?" she asked him.  "I'm Nurse Walker, but you can call me Hannah.
I'll be your main nurse for the duration of your stay here.  You can come
to me if you have any questions or need help."

   She seemed friendly and genuinely sweet, so Louis gave her a smile in
return.  "Thanks."

   "It's my job," Hannah replied, placing the bucket in the tub and
beginning to fill it with water.  Steam rose from the surface, and Louis
breathed a sigh of relief that he wouldn't be getting cold baths.  "Step in
the tub, if you please."

   He did, watching as the water level rose and wondering if he should make
conversation.  Before he could think of anything to say, Hannah dumped the
warm water over his head, dousing him from head to toe and leaving him
sputtering as he wiped the water from his eyes.  "Bloody hell!" he burst
out, flipping his now wet hair out of his face.  Hannah didn't seem to
mind, just began washing his body with the cloth.  To his embarrassment,
she made sure not to leave an inch of his skin unscrubbed, a realisation he
came to when she told him to spread his legs and bend over so she could run
the soapy cloth over his arse.

   Once he was clean, he was sent back to his room, where Doctor Styles was
waiting for him with the enema equipment set up, along with a glass
measuring cup placed curiously on the floor beneath the wooden horse. 
Louis didn't question it, just climbed up into the position that was
getting a bit too familiar for his liking.  His stomach still squirmed as
Harry secured the straps around his limbs, but he made no efforts to
writhe, knowing there was no point.  He sighed as the plug came out, and
squeezed his eyes shut as the doctor gave him two warm soap-and-water
enemas to make sure he was clean.  To Louis' chagrin, he was still getting
hard during these, a fact that did not escape the doctor.

   "Still no self-control," Harry mused while Louis cleaned himself up
after relieving himself in the chamber pot.  "Hopefully, this should fix
that.  Have you ever had a prostate massage, Louis?" Louis shook his head
no.  "Then I think you'll find this rather interesting.  Get back on the
horse."

   Louis did as he was told, more nervous now.  He could deal with the
enemas, those weren't new, and he was even starting to get used to the
fullness that the plugs gave him, but this was something he'd never
experienced before.  "What are you going to do?"

   Harry didn't answer yet, just slicked up three of his fingers with
petroleum jelly before pressing one inside of Louis.  With the help of the
plugs, his hole was just stretched enough to let Harry's fingers in without
resistance.  "To help you learn self-control, the manipulation of the
prostate is meant to remove your ability to reach orgasm," the doctor
explained, finger twisting and thrusting shallowly as he searched for the
boy's little bundle of nerves.  "You will ejaculate, like you do when you
pleasure yourself, but it won't feel the same."

   All Louis felt was odd, as Harry's finger probed his insides, but
then--oh.  His fists clenched and toes curled as a new sensation flooded
him, something almost like the pleasant throbbing that he felt when he was
full up with the soap and water of an enema or a plug, only more intense.
"Oh!  Harry, that's--"

   "That's your prostate, Louis," Harry said, slipping another finger
inside and beginning to rub insistently against that one spot as Louis
trembled and whined in his bonds.  "Does it feel good?"

   "Y-yes..." Louis hated to admit it, but whatever the doctor was doing
had his head going light, his eyes slipping shut and soft moans leaving his
mouth.  "I feel like I...I have to..."

   "Like you have to orgasm?"

   Louis nodded shamefully, feeling his face heat up from the humiliation.
His cock was still half-hard, and Harry tsked at him before suddenly
reaching down to grip at Louis' length.  At some point he'd dipped his hand
in a hidden jar of ice water; Louis gave a shout of surprise, and he went
soft in seconds.  Harry's fingers paused, and when Louis dropped his head
to try to look between his legs he saw the doctor holding the glass cup
directly under his cock.

   "Harry, I--"

   "Relax, Louis," Harry whispered, pressing even harder on Louis'
prostate, and that was it.  It felt like he was having an orgasm, but he
wasn't, really.  He could feel himself ejaculating but it was nothing like
when he used to run back to his room and stroke himself until he climaxed.
It wasn't enough, like the semen was leaving him before he was really ready
to hit that peak.  Louis whimpered none too softly, the sound echoing off
the walls of his tiny room and humiliating him further.  Even though he
trusted the doctor knew was he was doing, Louis couldn't help but feel
ashamed, exposed and filthy and reacting so strongly to these medical
procedures.  Once the last of the liquid was drained from him, Harry's
fingers went away, to be replaced with the larger day plug.  "Good boy,"
Harry praised him.  "You're done for now.  Go down to the prayer room, and
don't dawdle."