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 hadn't been sleeping well since his arrival, but that night in
particular plagued him even worse than the previous night.  Instead of a
one-time punishment to worry about, the entire routine that he had only
just gotten accustomed to was now going to change.  And to soap treatments,
at that!  He shuddered every time he thought of the soap-slick rubber thing
being thrust into him, and yet the doctor's words rang in the back of his
head, too.

   Are you enjoying this?  Because I think you are.  Naughty boy.

   The truth was, it hurt like hell but Louis did, he did enjoy it and he
hated to admit it.  And now he'd have to endure it every day, and worse, he
was certain.

   Morning dawned along with the ever-cheerful Niall at his door.  With the
dread pooling in his stomach, Louis dragged himself to his bath, where
Hannah only gave him a little smirk.

   When he went back to his room, the doctor was already waiting there to
administer the usual humiliating procedures.  This time Louis was certain
Harry was dragging out the prostate massage--he'd never taken that long
before.  But it always ended the same way: Louis' cheeks flushed and
hairline beading with sweat, chest heaving from laboured breaths and his
cock feeling wholly neglected.

   When he got to breakfast, Zayn was already at their table in the back,
and Louis slid in the seat next to him.

   "Zayn," he said in a low voice, picking up his glass, "did Doctor Payne
say he was changing your treatment?"

   Zayn shook his head, swallowing a bite of toast before answering.  "No,
he just gave me a big lecture about obedience.  Why?"

   Louis groaned.  Why did his doctor seem to have a personal grudge
against him?  "That's what Har--Doctor Styles said he was going to do," he
confided.  "For me, at least."

   "Bloody hell." Zayn's dark eyes widened, his egg pausing halfway to his
mouth.  "What did he say he'd do?"

   "More soap treatments," Louis replied in a small voice, looking down at
his plate.

   "Jesus.  That's really bad," Zayn said in the same hushed tone.  "I
mean--you haven't even been that bad.  Doctor Payne's adding extra to my
corporal punishments, but he's not changing it all because of...what
happened yesterday."

   Louis winced at the memory, his hips squirming just at the thought. 
"Lucky," he muttered.  "Sometimes I think he despises me for no reason."

   At that, Zayn laughed and rolled his eyes a bit.  "Perhaps.  I am lucky.
Doctor Payne seems to like me well enough, though extra swats with the cane
are going to really hurt."

   By the time Harry came into Louis' room shortly after the bell rang for
ten o'clock, Louis had worked himself into an anxious frenzy.

   "How are you feeling this morning, Louis?" Harry asked pleasantly, as
though Louis hadn't been pacing the length of the room for hours.

   There was no point in lying, especially when the doctor seemed to
somehow know when that was the case.  "Nervous."

   Harry gave him a little smile that was probably meant to be comforting;
Louis only found it more nerve-wracking.  "Now, why are you nervous,
Louis?" He cross the room, sitting at the foot of Louis' bed and patted the
space beside him.

   Louis swallowed, taking a seat next to the doctor and clasping his hands
in his lap to stop their shaking.  "I've never had soap punishments before,
not like I had yesterday."

   "Is that it?  Judging by your reactions to them yesterday, you seemed to
enjoy it more than most." Harry quirked an eyebrow, making Louis blush. 
"Now, I came in because I don't believe we had a proper talk about why you
are here."

   When the doctor didn't go on, Louis thought it was up to him to speak
up. "I'm here because I masturbated," he muttered, glancing down at his
folded hands.

   Fingers lifted his chin up, raising his face to Harry's.  "I'd like you
to look at me when I speak to you, please," Harry said, his tone leaving no
room for argument.  "Again.  Why are you here, Louis?"

   The way the doctor's green eyes bored into his own was unsettling, and
somehow made the admission harder.  "I'm here because I masturbated," Louis
said again, slightly louder.

   "Mmm.  And why is that?  What led you to touch yourself in such a way? I
believe that knowing the cause might help me determine the best way to
treat you."

   "Because..." Louis swallowed again, his tongue dry and his gaze still
locked on Harry's.  "Well, it was after I had my weekly enema..." He wanted
more than anything to look away, to hide his face and the blush on his
cheeks as he recounted the incident, but Harry's hand held his chin in
place, keeping him from doing so.

   "How interesting." A flicker of a smirk crossed Harry's face.  "It is
not uncommon to find enemas arousing, you know."

   "It's not?" Louis blurted out.

   Harry shook his head but offered nothing more on the subject.  "Would
you be interested in knowing the details of your new treatments?"

   Louis considered it before nodding yes.  Best to know what he was in for
now, he figured, and besides, Harry had spared him no detail when he first
arrived at the house.

   "Your morning caning--which normally would occur now--will be replaced
by a soap treatment, as will one of your paddlings.  These treatments will
consist of penetrations with either or both soap sticks and rubber
phalluses similar to what you received in the courtyard."

   The doctor kept talking, about the makeup of the soap and such, but
Louis' face had lost all colour at the thought of having that thing shoved
into him over and over every day until he was finally released.  Surely he
would get used to it and stop feeling so excited by it, he hoped.

   "Have you been paying attention?" Harry's voice cut through Louis'
internal worrying.

   "Yes," Louis lied, and Harry furrowed his brow.

   "Then tell me how long you will be penetrated with the soap stick for
the treatment I am about to give you."

   Damn, Louis was caught.  He made a wild guess.  "Fifteen minutes?"

   "Until it is melted," the doctor corrected him, rising to his feet.  "I
will be back with the supplies.  I want you on your hands and knees on the
bed, facing the wall when I come back."

   Louis was scrambling to comply before the door shut behind Harry.  Until
it melted!  That would take much longer than fifteen minutes, Louis was
sure.  And why wasn't he tied to the horse, like he was for all of his
treatments?

   He didn't have much time to think about it before Harry came back in,
carrying a pitcher of water with two bars of soap floating at the top.  "I
hope you find this effective," he said, placing the pitcher on the floor
and taking out one of the bars.  It had been cut already, into a third of
the size; perhaps three inches long and a half inch wide.  Harry grasped
the end of Louis' plug and pulled it out none too gently--Louis bit back a
grunt as he felt it leave him, felt where his hole fluttered and clenched
around nothing in its absence.  He didn't have to wait long for something
else to fill him.  Harry was pushing the soap stick into his arse with one
hand, the other resting heavily in the dip of Louis' back to keep him from
trying to squirm away.

   Louis huffed out a breath through his nose, eyes screwing shut as the
sensation spread through him, stinging his bum from the inside out.  Then
it was being withdrawn; it went on like that for what felt like ages, the
steady in-out of the soap stick.  It hurt just as badly as it had the day
before, the soap being rubbed into his sensitive insides.  Behind him,
Harry was droning on about cleanliness and good behaviour, but Louis tuned
him out despite his better knowledge.  It was on a random thrust out that
Harry dragged the soap stick, intentionally or not, against Louis'
prostate, still slightly sensitive from the morning.

   Louis couldn't stop himself.  He swore at the top of his lungs: "Bloody
hell!"

   Immediately he clamped his lips shut, and the soap stick was shoved in
rather harshly and left there.  He could sense Harry's disappointment,
though the doctor hadn't said a word.  "Fortunately for me, I have this so
another trip will not be necessary.  End of the bed, facing me."

   Unsure how Harry wanted him, Louis crawled to the requested spot,
watching Harry with wide, scared eyes.  Great, he'd messed up again. 
Anything but another public punishment, he prayed.

   Harry took the other unused bar of soap from the pitcher, holding it
inches from Louis' face.  "Have you ever had your mouth washed out with
soap, Louis?"

   "Once or twice," Louis replied, nearly cross-eyed from trying to look at
the bar of soap.

   "Then you know what will come next." Harry said nothing, and Louis
waited.

   "Well?  Do I need to get Doctor Payne in here to open your mouth for
you?" he scolded with a sudden tug to Louis' hair.

   The boy squeaked, shaking his head no and dropping his jaw.

   "Good boy, there we are.  Tongue out, eyes on me," Harry reminded him.

   Louis had no idea what he looked like but he was sure he looked as
completely and utterly disgraced as he felt, naked with his tongue out,
cheeks bright pink, and a stick of soap protruding from his arse.  Wet blue
eyes met Harry's steely gaze, and it took every ounce of self-control not
to look at the bar of soap on its way to his mouth.

   Harry scrubbed thoroughly, working the bar not only over Louis' tongue
but deep in his mouth, coating the insides of his cheeks and even the roof
of his mouth with the gag-inducing soap.  Louis was gagging in seconds,
instinctively jerking away from the awful taste but Harry was quicker, his
left hand gripping Louis' hair and holding his head in place.  By the time
Harry brought the chamber pot over and allowed him to spit out what he
could, Louis had tears streaming down his face, from a combination of the
soap itself and the sheer humiliation of having his mouth washed out and
having to look Harry in the eye the entire time.

   "Face the wall again.  You're not finished." Harry rested the bar on
Louis' tongue.  "Hold this in your mouth.  Let that teach you to mind your
language."

   What other choice did Louis have?  His teeth dug into the bar as it
melted inside his mouth, the soap suds pooling at the back of his throat
and making him gag as he turned back to face the wall.

   Meanwhile, the doctor resumed working the soap stick in and out of his
hole.  Louis squirmed, moaning around the bar of soap in his mouth and
curling and uncurling his toes.  Maybe Louis was overthinking it, but to
him, there was no way Harry wasn't deliberately aiming right for Louis'
prostate now that he knew how to angle the soap and torture him further. 
To his chagrin, he--he enjoyed this, liked the slight sting that set his
nerves on fire and the humiliation that came with it, to some degree, a
fact betrayed by the stiffening of his cock beneath him.  Not for the first
time, he cursed his body for its reactions when no combination of morbid
thoughts made his erection flag.

   Nothing was beyond Harry's notice, of course, and so the doctor
commented on it as well.  "You do like this," Harry mused, almost
thoughtfully, as though he weren't thoroughly reaming Louis' arse with a
stick carved out of soap.  "Whatever are we going to do with such a naughty
boy, hm?"

   For Louis, it was torture enough, the earlier milking leaving him unable
to reach orgasm even if he wanted to and it was allowed.  He wanted nothing
more than for it to end; wasn't that enough punishment?

   Gradually, he felt the stick slim down, the stretch on his rim shrink,
until Harry shoved the skinny remainder of the stick inside him fully and
left it.  "All done," he said, running his large hands over the curve of
Louis' bum before reaching around to take the bar of soap from where it was
clenched tightly between Louis' teeth.  "You may rinse your mouth out at
lunch, but not before." The doctor picked up the pitcher in one hand, the
other going to straighten out his coat.  "Yes, I think these treatments
will be much more effective on you.  I will see you in several hours."