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 made his way downstairs and slipped inside the prayer room just as
the bells began to sound.  Embarrassed at his lateness, he kept his head
ducked as he took a place in the back row on the side, as not to draw
attention to himself.  He kept his head bowed throughout prayers, and once
they were released he began looking around for Stan and Aiden.  They found
him first, catching up with him as they walked into the dining room.

   "Louis!  How was your first night?" Stan asked.

   "Ooh, rough," Aiden muttered, slowing his pace to stare at Louis'
well-punished bum.  "Doctor Payne?"

   Louis nodded, taking a plate from the stack and moving up in the line.
"Did he make that name up?" he whispered as one of the cooks piled his
plate with eggs and toast.

   Aiden shrugged.  "Apparently not, but he gives the harshest punishments.
How many did you get."

   "I don't know.  I didn't count," Louis admitted.  "Was I supposed to?"

   "No, but he usually gives around the same number unless you've
misbehaved in some way that day.  Usually it's thirty or forty, but if you
were bad then you can get up to seventy-five," Stan interjected.

   "He knows because he's gotten that many," Aiden muttered, and Louis
choked on his toast, coughing up crumbs.

   "Did you really?" His jaw dropped slightly, his mind trying to fathom
being whipped that many times.

   Stan nodded grimly.  "Was late for both prayertimes the day before.  So,
take it from me, don't be late."

   Louis swallowed nervously.  They really didn't lark about here.  His
appetite significantly decreased, he nibbled on his toast for the rest of
the breakfast period before they were being ushered back to their rooms.

   His friends probably weren't trying to psych him out, but Louis couldn't
stop thinking about the seventy-five strokes Stan had once gotten with the
whip, simply for being tardy.  He wondered if those were given in the
courtyard with everyone else watching, like Niall had mentioned sometimes
happened with punishments.  In that moment Louis resolved to stay as
behaved as he knew how, as not to incur anything that severe.

   Doctor Styles came in to give Louis fifteen hard swats with the cane
shortly after the bells signaled ten o'clock.  He took it without
complaint, though his bum stung terribly as the cane bit fresh lines across
the welts from the night before.  But as soon as the doctor left, Louis
laid on the bed, face buried in the sheets, and let himself have a bit of a
cry.  His bum was on fire, he hated the isolation, he missed his bed at
home, and he was only on his second day.  How was he supposed to last a
whole month here?

   The hour after lunch found all twenty-three boys outside in the
courtyard, with a few sport balls and space to exercise as they wished. 
Louis, Stan, and Aiden organised a game of five-on-five football, which was
actually fun enough that if it weren't for their states of dress and the
plug in his arse, Louis might have forgotten where they were.  He met a few
more boys, some as young as eight but more than a few as old as him, and
they all seemed fairly used to life at the nursing home.

   It didn't take long for Louis to become accustomed, too: in between
mealtimes and exercising, he got the cane in the morning, the paddle after
lunch as well as shortly before dinner, and the whip before bed.  The days
started to blend together in a blur of pain and reminding himself not to
roll into his back--making that mistake once was more than enough.

   Stan left on Louis' fourth full day, bidding him and Aiden goodbye after
lunch.  "Feels strange to have clothes on again," he quipped, and indeed
Louis found it strange to see one of his fellow patients wearing anything
at all.  Even the nudity had stopped bothering him, which Louis hadn't
expected to happen until much later.

   Three days later, Niall bounced in one morning announcing that Louis had
officially been there for a week.  "How do you feel?"

   "A week?" Louis gawked.  "Um--alright, I suppose?"

   "Well, that's good.  I noticed you seemed to adjust rather quickly.  We
all did.  Usually it takes patients two, two and a half weeks to be as
well-behaved as you."

   "Thank you, I suppose." Louis shrugged, starting to head down the
hallway to the washroom.  "I'm just glad it's been uneventful.  Hoping the
whole stay will be."

   There was a new face at breakfast that morning, a boy with dark hair and
dark eyes and deeply tanned skin, and Louis pointed him out to Aiden as
they sat picking at their food.  "Was he here last night?"

   Aiden shook his head, swallowing a bite of toast.  "I didn't see him at
prayers, so he must have come this morning.  Handsome lad."

   Louis found himself nodding along.  Sure, he did find Doctor Styles
attractive, which he was incredibly embarrassed about, but this new boy was
handsome in a completely different way.  His face looked like that of a
person who should be in adverts for the finest tailors in England, but his
body looked like the forms decorating the Grecian statues in Louis' home;
it was that kind of handsome.

   Aiden began waving.  "Oi, new bloke!  Come sit with us!"

   The boy's face broke into a grin, and he gripped his plate tighter and
made his way to their table.  "Thanks.  Was worried I'd have to sit all by
myself."

   "Not on our watch," Aiden declared.  "I'm Aiden, and this is Louis."

   "I'm Zayn," the boy said, sitting down on Louis' right.  "Nice to, er,
meet you, I suppose.  Not the most pleasant way to meet, is it?"

   Louis grimaced.  "Definitely could be better.  How old are you?"

   "Sixteen," Zayn told them both.  "What about you?"

   "Seventeen," Louis and Aiden said at the same time.  "You from close
by?" Aiden asked.

   "Yeah, I'm from Kent."

   "I'm from Kent!" Louis exclaimed.  "What's your last name?"

   "Malik, what's yours?"

   "Tomlinson.  Do we know each other?"

   It turned out that their families had been friends for decades, but Zayn
had been sent away to boarding school in Bradford and had been living with
his aunt and uncle there for most of his life.  He was back for the summer
holidays, but now had to spend the majority of it here.

   "Explains why we never met," Zayn said with a shrug.  "Funny we ended up
meeting here of all places."

   Louis made another face.  "Wish it could have been under better
circumstances."

   The doors opened just then, signaling the end of mealtime, and Zayn
drifted off to say hello to some other boys while Louis and Aiden brought
their plates to the kitchen.

   "He is one handsome lad," Aiden muttered to Louis.  "Think he's..." He
drifted off, tilting his head indicatively, and Louis understood.  He'd
never thought of boys in that way before, but this place was making him
start.

   "Don't know.  Only one way to find out, right?"

   "Oh, I wouldn't.  Just a thought." Aiden shrugged, and the two separated
to go back to their individual rooms.