Jason Masters

Steven at the
New TK Institute

Steven looked gloomily at the white-painted brick walls of the TK Institute through the metal-mesh-covered window of the prison van as it paused before the entrance to the prisoner reception bay while the gate slid open. He'd chosen this, but he wasn't happy about it. Still, it was the lesser of two evils.

The boy tugged idly at the heavy metal manacles clamped around his wrists which were holding his hands inescapably behind his back. Steven didn't expect the cuffs to release their ponderous grasp of course. It was mere reflex which caused him to struggle at all. For a few minutes, Steven's thoughts dwelt on how he'd gotten himself into this fix.

He'd been stupid to go along with it; Steven could see that now. Hindsight is, as the saying goes, always 20/20 and Steven realised he'd gotten himself into this mess by accepting the dare to shoplift.

Steven probably wouldn't have received such a heavy sentence as a first offender except for the circumstances. The hand-held game machine which he'd tried to hide under his jacket while he walked out of the store was one of the newest and most expensive on the market. Its monetary value, according to the judge, warranted a severe sentence.

Steven had been given an unenviable choice: He could spend six months in Juvenile Detention or a single day in the TK Institute. He'd been told by the judge that each option was considered equally harsh.

In the end, the fact that he'd be able to return home after spending only a single day in the TK Institute had determined Steven's choice. Although Steven's parents were appalled at his shoplifting, they still loved their son so Steven didn't want to be away from them for any longer than he needed to.

After driving through the gateway, the prison van came to a halt again as the outer door of the reception bay slid slowly closed, sealing off the exit to leave no avenue of escape. Not that running away while wearing the heavy manacles would have done any real good since they were practically inescapable without the key. In fact, the manacles were vastly over-designed for an adult, let alone for a small boy, and were intended to intimidate as much as to restrain the wearer.

The only good thing about the size of the cuffs was that they spread the pressure on Steven's wrists over a larger area than normal cuffs so they couldn't dig into his arms and perhaps injure him the way a set of standard handcuffs could have.

The rear door of the van opened and there stood the two guards. The idea that more than one guard would be needed to handle a skinny twelve-year-old boy was laughable, but there were two in case of emergency, so one could guard (and if necessary give first aid to) the prisoner while the other contacted the appropriate emergency services.

There was no point in resisting and Steven didn't even think of doing so. He stood up when bidden and, while trying to control his nervous shivering, stepped out of the van while the guards held his arms to steady him as he came down the metal steps which had been folded out of the van body for him.

As Steven was led toward a door in the back of the bay, the door opened and a young man with dark hair stepped through, holding a Manila folder. He looked inside the folder and then at Steven as he approached.

"Steven Wainwright, yes?" enquired the young man, smiling as Steven nodded in reply. "I'm Doctor Fermior. You're in for a rough time, young man, but don't be afraid; we're very experienced at what we do here and the Institute is a lot different now to how it was when that crackpot, Doctor Savage, was in charge."

Steven had heard of Dr Jasper Savage of course. Almost everyone had by now. The doctor had narrowly avoided being declared legally insane after the full extent of his tickle 'experiments' performed on helpless young boys at the former TK Institute had been revealed. As it was, the thoroughly discredited former doctor had been fired, de-registered and banned from practising medicine in any capacity.

Additionally, all of the inmates in the former TK Institute had been re-assessed and most of them had been released since they were deemed to have served their full sentences as compensation for the abusive treatment meted out to them by the insane erstwhile doctor.

Besides this, several of Savage's associates were now under investigation for possible falsification of evidence, meaning that many of the boys could end up having their sentences quashed.

The very few boys who were judged to still require detention had been transferred to more reputable institutions.

However it did not go unnoticed by the powers-that-be, that all of the boys had found continual tickling to be a torture and none wished to repeat the experience. The result was a less brutal New TK Institute, designed to be an alternative to a long term of imprisonment and which operated more like a hospital than a prison, despite being technically the latter.

Dr Fermior continued, "We just have to get one formality over with: Steven Wainwright, you have indicated that you wish to spend one full day of tickle-torture at the TK Institute instead of six months of penal detention. I now require you to confirm that decision, otherwise you will be returned to a standard detention facility immediately to serve your full sentence there. Do you confirm your decision?"

Steven felt like his heart was in his mouth. He swallowed before replying "Yes."

Dr Fermior made a mark on a form, then leaned over Steven and glanced down at the heavy manacles around the boy's wrists.

"I don't think those are necessary. He's not going anywhere we don't want him to."

Steven breathed a sigh of relief as the guards finally unlocked and removed the heavy manacles. They'd been starting to hurt his wrists, just from their weight.

Steven stood quietly, realising just how helpless he still was as his transfer forms were signed and the guards headed back to the prison van.

"This way," said Dr Fermior, putting one hand against Steven's upper back and guiding him through the doorway. "Let's get you into the standard TK Institute uniform and do your medical, then you can have a meal and get some rest. You'll need it for tomorrow."

Steven was led to a small room where Dr Fermior supervised him as he changed out of his normal clothes, then Steven was given a thorough medical examination to be certain that he was fit to endure what was to come. It was embarrassing for Steven to have to be naked in front of the doctor, but he had no choice, and at least Doctor Fermior remained strictly professional throughout the examination.

Thirty minutes later, Steven sat alone in his cell clad only in the embarrassingly tiny, tight red briefs with the TK logo on the front which were still used as the 'uniform' for Institute inmates. He was so nervous that he had little appetite for the meal he'd been provided with, but he managed to force it down. It helped that the food was good, which was not at all what Steven had expected in a prison.

Steven somehow managed to sleep that night on the padded bench in his cell. The room obviously had under-floor heating so Steven was warm enough even with nothing but a thin, woven nylon sheet to cover himself with. Steven didn't know what the previous Institute had been like, but he guessed that, Spartan though his cell appeared now, the Institute had been nowhere near as nice when Savage had been in charge.

***

Steven shivered, looking up at the shadowy figure hovering over him threateningly. He tried to move but his entire body seemed to be strapped down and he couldn't move.

The shadow resolved itself and to Steven's horror, he recognised Doctor Jasper Savage, the madman himself! There was no mistaking him since his picture had been all over the news services.

Desperately, Steven tried to struggle free as Savage, snickering threateningly, came closer and closer but Steven found himself completely helpless to move. No! He didn't want to become one of Savage's 'experiments!' How could Savage be here? Hadn't he been fired? And with that thought, Steven's eyes popped open as he was jolted awake by his nightmare.

Even after he realised it hadn't been real, Steven was unable to get back to sleep for nervousness and spent an anxious hour waiting until his breakfast arrived.

Breakfast was a sufficient but frugal meal. Shortly after Steven finished eating, Dr Fermior showed up with the news Steven had been dreading.

"Your sentence will begin in approximately thirty minutes," stated the doctor. "Someone will come to take you to the place where the first part of your sentence is to be carried out." Then Dr Fermior left, leaving Steven a prey to near-terror.

It seemed like an eternity to Steven before a young orderly opened the cell door and said, "It's time, I need to put these on you." He held up some brown leather straps.

Steven, feeling a bit like he was still in his nightmare, didn't bother to resist since he knew it would be futile. In spite of his involuntary trembling, he obediently stood still while the orderly fastened wide leather cuffs around Steven's wrists and ankles and a wide leather belt around his waist.

Once the items had been secured on him, Steven walked along the hallway with the orderly, who kept one hand on Steven's back to guide him (and also, Steven guessed, to grab Steven if he was foolish enough to try to run away).

It wasn't a long walk, for which Steven was glad. He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. The anticipation seemed to Steven, at that moment, almost worse than the punishment.

Steven and his companion entered a room which seemed almost bare except for a framework of metal poles.

The framework had two poles each around 3 inches [7 cm] in diameter with a metal cross-bar, forming an H shaped arrangement. Steven was led to this frame and told to stretch out his arms. When he did so, his leather cuffs were attached to eye-bolts in the poles, forcing him to keep his arms spread wide, then the same thing was done with his legs.

Steven had a moment of panic when the orderly moved a control on the wall and the metal poles began to slowly move apart so it appeared as though he was about to be torn it two! But the movement stopped just as Steven reached the limit of how far he could stretch, then the belt around his waist was fastened to the cross-bar.

The orderly casually operated a small lever in the floor with his foot, then went to a cabinet and donned latex gloves before returning with large jar of some kind of ointment. His voice was friendly as he spoke to Steven while he began to rub the ointment into most of Steven's body, only avoiding Steven's face and the area covered by the tiny speedos.

"That lever locks the bars so they can't move and disconnects the motors as well, so don't worry, you can't be accidentally hurt. Anyway, the drive system has a friction clutch designed to slip before the motors can pull hard enough to really harm you. Clever, eh?"

Steven found himself unable to reply from nervousness, but the orderly didn't seem to notice and went on talking.

"This ointment makes your skin super-sensitive for an hour or two. It's harmless of course, but you'll find that it increases the tickling unbelievably!"

Steven did not find that reassurance comforting.

The orderly finished his work, then said a friendly goodbye to the helpless boy and left, at which point Steven, almost on the verge of panic, closed his eyes in despair for a few moments as he attempted to calm down. He could barely move at all with his arms and legs stretched so far apart and with his waist held firmly against the cross-bar. A fresh wave of despair washed through Steven as he realised exactly how helpless and vulnerable he was – and exactly how exposed and available for tickle-torture his body now was.

And on top of everything, he was starting to feel the effects of the ointment which had been rubbed into his skin. Gradually, Steven's skin became more and more sensitive until even the slight air movement from the room's ventilation began to be noticeable and to tickle slightly as it wafted over the downy hairs on Steven's body.

Just as Steven began to feel that he couldn't take any more of this waiting, the door opened and in walked Dr Fermior along with two other, younger men.

"Hello Steven," greeted the doctor. "This is Brian and this is Hector," he said, gesturing to each of his companions in turn as they nodded in greeting to Steven. "They're trainees and they'll be assisting me today." The doctor didn't wait for Steven to reply but immediately went to a cabinet, followed by his two assistants where all three of them donned gloves.

As they once again approached Steven, all three raised their hands so that the boy could see that the gloves were far from ordinary. The ones worn by the assistant named Brian had feathers on the ends of the fingers. The gloves worn by Hector had thin rubber extensions and Dr Femior's gloves had thin, stiff hairs like a cat's whiskers embedded in the ends of the fingers.

The two assistants stood on each side of Steven while Dr Fermior stood directly in front of Steven as he spoke to his assistants.

"Now remember, the sentence is tickle-torture and nothing more. We have to be careful not to over-do it. He's had only a light breakfast but he could still vomit if we tickle him too much, and if he vomits while laughing, he could easily aspirate his vomit, which would be disastrous! We want to make this unpleasant, but keep it safe. Ready? Session One: Begin!"

Immediately, all three began to gently tease the extensions on their gloves over Steven's skin, producing the most intense tickling sensation Steven had ever experienced. Resistance wasn't only futile; it was totally impossible. The helpless boy immediately began to laugh wildly and to struggle futilely in his bonds.

Brian, with a delighted grin on his face, was running the feathers up and down Steven's left leg, occasionally switching to Steven's waist before moving back to his leg. Hector was using the thin, rubber, finger-like extensions on his gloves to tickle Steven's other side in a similar way, while Dr Fermior was concentrating his efforts on Steven's armpits and chest using the hairs on his gloves while also occasionally tickling Steven's upper arms in like manner. The combined effects were devastating. Steven could only struggle and laugh until he began to scream, then he began to run out of breath and to choke on his laughter.

Immediately, Dr Fermior's voice rang out with the command, "Stop!" as he withdrew his hands from Steven's over-sensitive skin. Brian was a little slow to withdraw his feathers, prompting Dr Fermior to impatiently grab one of Brian's arms and push him back to make him stop ticking Steven.

"I told you to stop," Dr Fermior admonished Brian. "You need to be responsive to the subject's needs! Look at him! He was almost choking. Stop when I tell you to, or you'll not only never graduate but be dismissed!"

"Sorry, Doctor," the chastened Brian murmured, looking ashamed of himself.

Dr Fermior concentrated his attention on the gasping Steven for a moment, deliberately giving the boy enough time to catch his breath.

Dr Fermior glanced at Brian again before telling him, "I appreciate your enthusiasm but you absolutely must concentrate at least as much attention on how your subject is reacting as you do on your tickling. This time, I want you to concentrate on him and call 'stop' when you believe it's time."

Brian looked serious as he replied, "yes, Doctor."

"Begin," instructed Dr Fermior and once again Steven found his body assaulted from multiple directions with excruciatingly intense tickling, again sending the bound boy into gales of helpless laughter.

This time, it was Brian's voice which called "stop" just as Steven began to lose his breath, and the ticking stopped immediately.

"Much better," came Dr Fermior's approving voice. "You probably could have gone just a little longer but it's better to stop too early than too late!"

"Thanks Doctor," murmured Brian.

That set the tone for the rest of the session. Over and over, Steven was tickle-tortured almost to the point of choking, then allowed a minute's rest before being tickled once again. Steven wriggled and writhed, thrashing around in his restraints, desperately trying to escape the tickling, but it was a wasted effort. His restraints were secure and held him helplessly in exactly the right position to be tickled mercilessly.

Steven was past the point of desperation and was even wondering if someone could literally die laughing when a chime suddenly rang out loudly in the room and the tickling abruptly ceased. All three of Steven's tormentors stood back, looking a little regretful.

"Session One, ended," announced Dr Fermior. He and his assistants returned to the cabinet where they removed their gloves before leaving the room. Almost exhausted, Steven hung from his restraints and simply concentrated on pumping in breath.

A minute later, the door opened again and the same young orderly who had brought Steven to the room entered it once more.

"You look like hell," commented the orderly, kicking the floor lever across before starting the electric motors to move the metal poles closer together again. Steven gasped out his reply, "I feel like it," as his restraints were unfastened from the poles and cross-bar.

The orderly comforted Steven as he helped the tired boy walk back to his cell.

"It's always worst for first-timers, but if you think that was bad, just imagine five sessions like that every day for a whole week! Be thankful your sentence is only one day. You have four more sessions to get through then tomorrow you get to go home."

"I don't know if I can make it," said Steven, meaning every word. "It's a lot worse than I thought it would be."

"You'll make it," the orderly encouraged Steven. "They'll be careful not to really hurt you. That's one reason you're getting a rest now; so you can recover and be ready for your next session. And here we are and here's your drink and snack," he added, indicating a small tray which was resting on the table in the cell. "Eat up and go to the toilet if you need to. I'll be back when it's time to take you to your next session."

Steven first took a large swig of water then sampled the confectionery bar on the tray, discovering it to be very palatable. It seemed to be mainly puffed rice and honey and, along with the plastic cup of milk which had been provided with it, went a long way toward helping Steven to recover his strength, which Steven guessed was probably intentional considering how careful the TK Institute had been with his health so far.

All too soon, the orderly returned and Steven, still feeling embarrassed at having to wear only tight speedos in semi-public, was taken to a different room where he was made to lie face-down on a padded bench before being strapped tightly down to it using both the restraints he was wearing and additional straps fastened to the bench.

Unable to turn his head far enough to see exactly what was going on, Steven lay in enforced stillness as he first heard the orderly manipulating something metal near his feet, then felt his toes being fastened to something after which more of the cream was rubbed into and around his feet and toes. Steven's worst fears had been realised. They were going to tickle his feet; the most ticklish place on his body!

This time, it was Dr Fermior alone who entered the room. Once again he donned the cat's-whisker gloves and, announcing "Session Two: Begin" began to tickle-torture poor Steven's feet with only the minimum of mercy required to ensure the helpless boy's safety. Once again Steven entered a zone of pure torment as his now super-sensitive feet and toes were raked gently and teasingly, over and over, by Dr Fermior's cat's-whisker gloves. Since his desperate, involuntary struggles to escape were futile, Steven could only scream with tormented laughter and beg Dr Fermior to stop.

Of course the doctor only stopped the tickling briefly, each time Steven came close to losing his breath due to laughing so hard until, after what seemed like forever to poor Steven, the chime finally called an end to his torment.

Back in his cell after the end of his second tickle-torture session, Steven at first ignored the bowl of soup which was his lunch in favour of gulping down mouthfuls of water, but realisation of how hungry he was came to him with the mouth-wateringly good smell of the soup. The soup was thick and richly flavoured and satisfied Steven's hunger while at the same time not over-filling his stomach.

Exhausted by his first two tickle-torture sessions, Steven lay down on the padded bench to rest immediately after attending to his toilet needs. How could he survive this? He already felt totally spent.

***

Steven was gently shaken awake by the orderly and it was only then that Steven realised he'd fallen asleep from exhaustion.

As Steven was taken to yet another room for his third tickle-torture session, he realised that he now felt a lot better, physically at least, than he'd expected to. Obviously the fact that he'd been allowed food and rest between each session had done him good, as well as his short lunchtime nap. Although still dreading the tickling to come, Steven now felt some hope that he would get through his punishment without harm.

The third room was more intimidating by far than either of the previous two. Once again Steven was secured with arms and legs spread wide, although this time he was partly lying down, face up on a slanted, padded bench instead of standing upright.

But the really intimidating thing in this room was The Machine!

Numerous arms with various tickling devices at the end of each one protruded inward on each side of the machine. Once the sensitising cream had been applied to Steven's body and time had been allowed for it to take effect, Dr Fermior entered the room and sat at the controls near Steven then pressed a button on the console.

As the bench Steven was secured to began to move backwards into the machine, Dr Fermior commented, "Savage absolutely loved using machines, but we use them sparingly. It's so impersonal and frankly, it's a miracle some of his devices didn't end up killing someone. This little device of his is one of the few which has been certified as safe to use, with supervision."

As the bench stopped moving, portions of it dropped away until Steven was resting on only a narrow strip of padding behind his back, although every part of his body was still held securely in place so that he couldn't move more than a minuscule amount in any direction.

Steven whimpered with fearful anticipation, prompting Dr Fermior to respond, "Don't panic. I'll be controlling everything which happens to you to make sure nothing goes wrong." Followed by the expected, "Session Three: Begin."

A whirring noise came from the machine and suddenly Steven's body was assaulted from all directions by multiple tickling implements of various types, wielded by the machine's mechanical arms with almost human-like skill. Steven began to laugh and scream wildly as the tickling sensations overwhelmed him.

This time, the tickling didn't stop but instead simply eased off as Steven began to feel like he couldn't breathe. Each time the reduction in intensity lasted just long enough for Steven to catch his breath between helpless giggles before the tickling resumed as strongly as before.

On and on went the tickle-torture, seemingly endlessly. Steven wanted to plead for it to stop, but most of the time his voice was too occupied with laughing, and even when he managed to gasp out the words, his pleas were ignored by the doctor as he concentrated on monitoring Steven's responses to ensure the boy's safety (although not his comfort).

Steven's third tickle-torture lasted no longer than the first two but because of the lack of even the shortest breaks, it seemed subjectively much longer in spite of the periodic reductions in intensity to allow him to recover his breath. By the time the chime sounded and Dr Fermior announced "Session Three: Ended," Steven was once again almost totally exhausted, not only from laughing but also from his futile struggles to escape the torment.

As Steven's bench slid forward out of the tickle machine, Dr Fermior this time did not immediately leave the room as he had done before. Instead, he stood in sight of Steven and waited until the bench came to a stop before speaking.

"You'll be pleased to know that you've been through what most inmates agree is the worst part of your sentence. The remaining two sessions will be bad, of course, otherwise they wouldn't be a punishment, but compared to what you've just been through, they'll seem less daunting.

"I'm telling you this because we've found that giving a little hope to our inmates at this point is very important to their mental health. And in case you think I'm lying just to encourage you, that would defeat the purpose and in fact be counter-productive."

Without waiting for a response, but with an encouraging nod to Steven, Dr Fermior left.

A few minutes later, the orderly returned to release Steven and help him to stagger back to his cell where another snack awaited the exhausted, hungry and thirsty boy. Steven gobbled down the food and drink and lay down once again on the padded bench, falling asleep almost instantly.

Again, the orderly shook Steven awake and once again Steven felt a lot better for his short nap as he was led, once again, to the same room in which his first tickle-torture session had taken place.

As the orderly again stretched Steven between the poles, he chattered happily to the helpless boy, "I hope you had a good sleep. We allowed you a longer break this time. Dr Fermior thought you needed it."

Steven couldn't help but make the rueful retort, "What I really need right now is not to be tickled again!"

"Yeah, everyone says that around now," replied the orderly as he applied the sensitising cream to Steven's body again. "Try to relax, and remember that they won't really hurt you. Sure, they enjoy tickling you, but we're not maniacs like Savage. They'll make sure you get through it okay."

Once again, the orderly left Steven alone with his fearful thoughts for a few minutes before Dr Fermior showed up with his assistants, Brian and Hector.

Session four was mostly like Steven's first, except that this time the tops of his feet and toes were also given attention along with his armpits, chest and legs. By the time the session ended, Steven felt even more exhausted than at the end of his previous session in spite of the fact that the tickling had been less intense than that delivered by the machine.

Steven was more than ready for his evening meal and rest. Once again it was a thick soup which was satisfying without filling him too much. Once again, he was allowed a long nap before his final session.

And once again the orderly shook Steven awake when it was time for his final tickle-torture session.

Steven could only with the greatest reluctance force himself to walk with the orderly to the room where he would suffer for the final time. In fact, Steven was so scared by now that he was only barely able to hold back his tears.

This time, Steven was fully suspended in mid-air, hanging not only by his wrists, ankles and waist but also by extra straps fastened just above his elbows and knees, to distribute his weight evenly in order not to hurt him. His sentence was, after all, tickle-torture and not pain or potential injury.

As he dangled immobile in the air with his arms and legs spread wide apart while waiting for the sensitising cream to take effect, Steven couldn't help weeping a bit from the sheer terror caused by his helpless position. He felt so horribly exposed and helpless like this! Anyone could do anything they wanted to him, and there was nothing Steven could do to prevent it.

Doctor Fermior entered the room with his usual assistants, Brian and Hector, and Steven shuddered in fearful anticipation of what was to follow.

Again, the doctor and his assistants donned the special gloves. Steven closed his eyes as they approached him and another tear escaped from one eye in spite of the boy's attempts to seem brave.

"Chin up, young man," came the doctor's voice in encouragement. "You know by now that we'll make sure you get through this okay, so there's no need to be so scared!"

Steven knew it was useless to beg for mercy, but he still couldn't help giving Doctor Fermior a pleading look. The doctor chuckled at that look. Steven couldn't see anything to laugh at. He was about to suffer greatly, and the doctor was laughing at him? Steven began to cry openly.

Doctor Fermior removed his gloves and moistened a wash-cloth with warm water then wiped Steven's face comfortingly while also murmuring further words of reassurance to the distressed boy.

Once Steven had regained control of himself, Doctor Fermior once again donned the gloves and he and his assistants positioned themselves ready to administer Steven's final tickle-torture session.

Steven still didn't want to be tickled of course, but the comfort provided by the doctor had been enough to allow him to steel his nerves to put up with the tickle-torture session.

"Session Five: Begin" announced Doctor Fermior and once more Steven's composure dissolved into shrieks of forced laughter as this time, nearly every part of his body was tickle-attacked in turn.

The only parts of Steven's body which escaped attention were his groin and buttocks, but there were plenty of other places available and the sensitising cream made them all super-sensitive to tickling.

As always, the doctor and his assistants were careful to allow Steven occasional short breaks to catch his breath, but once again the nearly constant tickling felt almost as bad to Steven as had his session in the tickle machine. Steven's struggles were more frantic than in any previous session, but as may be expected, they were as fruitless as ever.

The tickle-torture session lasted no longer than all of the previous sessions, but subjectively, to Steven, it seemed to last far longer. The tormented boy was almost in a panic and totally exhausted by the time he heard the blessed chime and the announcement from Doctor Fermior, "Session Five: Ended." Followed by, "Sentence: Completed."

Steven hung limply in his bonds, perspiring and exhausted. This time, Doctor Fermior, Brian and Hector didn't simply leave as they had done on almost every previous occasion. Instead, the doctor and his assistants removed their gloves and gently wiped away the perspiration from the boy's body with damp cloths, comforting and cooling Steven until the orderly arrived to release the boy from his bonds.

Steven was so tired from the continual, enforced laughter and his desperate attempts to avoid the tickling that he needed to be almost literally carried back to his cell. In fact he was so exhausted that the orderly stayed with the weary youngster and fed his supper to him before helping Steven to lie down on the padded bench. Steven was asleep from fatigue before the orderly had even finished laying him down.

The sleeping boy didn't even stir as the orderly removed Steven's cuffs and belt, and he remained oblivious when Doctor Fermior entered the room and examined him to make sure his struggles had not caused the restraints to chafe his skin. Fortunately, the wide leather straps and belt had done their job by distributing the pressure of Steven's struggles so any marks left on the boy by them were slight and would soon fade.

Steven awoke late the following morning. He'd slept like the proverbial log following his previous stressful day, but a long sleep combined with his youthful energy had allowed him to recover his strength, and any marks left on his body from his desperate struggles had by then completely vanished.

Steven's breakfast was a substantial meal, to make up for him having to eat less the previous day (which had been for the boy's own safety): Ham, eggs, toast and milk, which Steven devoured hungrily in large quantities.

There was another medical examination for Steven to get through, to be certain that he hadn't been harmed by his recent ordeal, but with the knowledge that his family were waiting for him instead of future torment, Steven felt far less embarrassed by Doctor Fermior's attention this time. Added to that was the fact that he could at last shed the humiliatingly brief TK Institute 'uniform' and dress once again in his normal clothes.

As Steven was taken to be reunited with his family, he vowed to himself that never again would he shoplift. Tickling could be fun, but not as applied by the New TK Institute!

The End