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

   ~~~~~~

   By the time Niall came to let Louis out for lunch, his throat and tongue
were dry as bone.  If he closed his mouth, his saliva brought the soap
taste back anew, so he spent the hours with his tongue hanging out and
breathing through his mouth like a dog.

   "You alright?" Niall asked him, pointing quizzically at Louis' slightly
open mouth.

   Louis nodded, swallowing carefully and closing his mouth long enough to
say, "Fine, but thanks."

   Niall clearly didn't believe him, but he asked no more questions.

   In the dining room, Louis settled into his usual seat next to Zayn. 
"Why do you look like the cat literally got your tongue?" Zayn asked him, a
teasing glint in his eye.

   Louis groaned, not in the mood for the joke.  "I got
mouthy...accidentally said `bloody hell' in front of Harry.  So he washed
my mouth out with soap," he said, making a face.  "And he did not even let
me rinse out after."

   Zayn's expression contorted in a strange mix of sympathy and disgust. 
"How awful," he muttered.  "It sounds like he has gone harsher on you than
before."

   "I know he has.  He despises me, I know it," Louis moaned dramatically.
"Liam really has not changed your treatments?"

   "Not really, there is only an increase in the length of the corporal
punishments."

   The two ate in silence, Louis grimacing every time he took a bite and
tasted the soap.  Then he noticed the empty glass in front of Zayn's plate.
"May I?" he asked, pointing to it.  Zayn nodded, and Louis immediately took
a large, impolite gulp of his own water, swished it around in his mouth,
and spit it into the empty glass.  Instantly he felt better, the soap taste
still lingering but less obtrusive when he closed his mouth and swallowed.
"Thank you.  I really needed to get that out."

   Louis found he couldn't enjoy the exercise period as much as he usually
did, not with the threats of yet more terrible punishments awaiting him
after lunch.  The change in his usual schedule--the schedule he'd finally
gotten used to--was unnerving, and he dreaded the later treatments so much
that he had to excuse himself from the football match and sit down on the
grass because his stomach hurt so.

   Sure enough, shortly after he was ushered back into the home, Harry came
to his room, the paddle in his hand.  Out of habit, Louis went to climb
back up on the horse, but Harry stopped him.

   "No.  Stand in the corner for a moment, Louis.  Face the wall, hands
behind your back."

   Nervously curious, Louis ran to do as he was told.  Behind him, he could
hear the sounds of wood creaking and metal clinking.  When he was told to
turn around, his eyes landed on the new shape of the frame.  Instead of the
horse he was used to, it was a simpler form, just a horizontal beam about
waist-level held up by supporting posts near the ends.

   "Come here and spread your legs."

   Unsure of what the doctor was going to do with him, Louis approached
slowly, standing before the bar with his feet about shoulder-width apart.

   "Wider," Harry snapped, before deciding Louis wasn't going to do a good
enough job and grabbing one ankle himself, drawing a yelp from the boy.  In
just seconds, Louis found his ankles secured to the posts on one side of
the beam and his wrists secured to the other side, his torso bent
uncomfortably in half.  The wooden beam dug into his soft stomach, and when
he tried to suck it in, the wrist restraints tugged painfully on his skin.
Bound as he was, there was absolutely no room to squirm.

   Behind him, he could hear Harry walking up to him, tapping the paddle
against his palm, probably.  "I want you to count for me from now on.  Do
you understand, Louis?"

   "Y-yes, Harry," Louis mumbled, already starting to feel dizzy from the
blood rushing to his head.  Still, he tried to look between his legs, but
his fringe drooped over his eyes, obscuring his view.  All he could do was
anticipate.

   The first smack took him by surprise, and he cried out more from the
shock than the pain.  He wondered if his bum would develop extra layers of
skin from all the beatings he was getting here.

   "Louis..." Harry's voice warned him, snapping him back to attention.

   "One, one, I'm sorry."

   Smack!  Smack!

   "Two, three!"

   Harry continued like that, adding one more to each batch as Louis
struggled to keep count.  They reached 21 before Harry announced that Louis
was done.  Relieved, Louis shifted in his bonds, hoping the doctor would
release him and disappear before coming back before dinner.  But then he
felt something pushing against the end of his plug, an insistent pressure
that nudged the tip of the device inside him.  Panicking as he felt his
cock begin to swell in interest, Louis bit his lip hard, trying to keep
silent but a tiny whimper escaped from the back of his throat.

   "I am only checking to be sure it is in properly." Harry sounded like he
was grinning, which meant he was only doing it to torture Louis further. 
The next thing he knew, the pressure was gone and his wrists and ankles
were being released from their restraints.

   The rest of the day passed in something of a daze.  Before dinner, Harry
tortured his bumhole with another soap stick, and Louis made sure to keep
his mouth shut, fearing another mouth soaping.  He got the whip before bed
in the new position before being sent to sleep with the smaller plug in his
arse.

   The next morning, after his bath, Harry came in with the enema equipment
and something else clutched in his hand that Louis couldn't see.

   "Harry," he ventured shyly, pointing to the doctor's closed fist, "what
is that?"

   "Ah, this.  This is a small something I have been working on just for
you." Harry's smile was almost sinister, and Louis curled into himself
instinctively.  Maybe the doctor was lying, that whatever it was just
happened to be something he had around, but the idea that he had taken the
time to `work on' something for Louis, as though he were some kind of
special case...Louis wasn't sure if that made him more nervous or feel like
he had some kind of twisted favour in Harry's eyes.

   "Well, would you like to see it?"

   Louis nodded, getting up and padding over to the doctor's side.  In
Harry's hand was a strange slightly oblong and curved tube-like thing, made
of shiny metal.  "For me?" he squeaked, glancing up at the doctor, fear
evident in his eyes.

   Harry nodded.  "I noticed how much you seem to enjoy your prostate
massages as of late, and we simply could not have you feeling as much
enjoyment as you do.  They are punishments, not for your pleasure but to
teach you a lesson and to prevent you from becoming aroused during the day.
If you are aroused this early in the morning, that does not teach you very
effectively, now does it?"

   Louis shook his head, still puzzled as to what this odd device had to do
with his prostate massages.

   "So," Harry went on, "this is to keep your penis from becoming hard
during the treatments.  Depending on how effective it is during this
treatment, I may decide to have you leave it on all day."

   All day!  Despite not knowing exactly how it worked, Louis recoiled at
the prospect of having that thing on him all day long, in full view of the
other boys.  He had never seen anyone else with it on, and they were sure
to ask questions.  Already he was getting more vigorous treatment than
anyone else; surely they were running out of things to add to it?

   Lost in his worries, the sudden grip on his soft cock made him yelp. 
The doctor worked quickly--before Louis could process what was happening,
the metal contraption was snapped into place, encasing his cock in a
cage-like manner with a ring through which his balls were drawn.  As he
looked down at himself in dismay, he realised how this worked.  He could no
longer get hard, as the metal would prevent his cock from thickening or
lengthening.  In fact, it would be downright painful if he tried.  He could
see how effective it would be, and his heart dropped to his stomach at the
thought.

   "Harry," he whined, only to receive a sharp pinch on the ear in
reprimand.

   "You've been so good, Louis, so do not start now," Harry warned, voice
sounding dangerous, so Louis shut up.

   Scrubbing a hand against his ear, Louis winced, waiting for Harry to
tell him where to go.

   "I want to try something different with you today," Harry continued,
pointing to Louis' bed.  "I want you on the bed on your knees and elbows,
head down."

   Gulping quietly, Louis assumed the position, his bum up in the air for
Harry to do whatever he wanted to.  It was the same position the horse kept
him in, but he was unrestrained and he couldn't help but wonder why.

   "You may be wondering why I did not ask you to get on the horse this
morning," Harry said, as though he had read Louis' mind.  "To hold his
position you are required to exhibit self-control, and you certainly would
benefit from more practice.  You are not to squirm away or move whilst I am
administering your enemas or prostate massage this morning.  Do you
understand?"

   Louis nodded, turning his head so one cheek rested atop his folded
hands. "Yes, Harry."

   It took more willpower than Louis thought he possessed to stay still
while his hole was lubricated and the tube inserted, especially as the cage
kept his poor cock from reacting to any of it.  He dreaded the massage,
knowing it would be even worse than usual.

   Sure enough, the doctor took his sweet time, almost playing with Louis'
prostate rather than simply manipulating it.  Just when Louis thought he
knew what to expect, Harry would change the pressure, or switch from
rubbing directly over it to thrusting his fingers shallowly to graze
against it that way.  Louis couldn't help it, he whimpered aloud at one
particularly mean press of Harry's fingertips.

   "Silence," Harry scolded him, punishing him with a sharp jab to his
prostate, making the boy bite the sheets under him to keep quiet.  Louis'
entire body trembled with the effort to stay still, even as the pleasure in
his arse blended with the pain from the cold metal encasing his length. 
His back ached from the way his spine bowed under the stimulation, his
muscles taut and strung out with tension.  His hands balled into fists, and
his jaw dropped to release a silent cry as he ejaculated into the glass,
utterly spent and feeling like he could cry.

   "Interesting," Harry muttered, all but yanking his fingers out.  "You
will keep that on for the rest of the day.  Should any of the other boys
ask you about it, you tell them you are learning self-control."

   Louis didn't think his cheeks could get any redder, but he felt them
heat up more still.  "Yes, Harry," he replied meekly, moving to sit up.

   "Good.  Now behave until breakfast." Harry left the room, but not before
landing a light smack on Louis' upturned arse on the way out.