Synopsis: As about 100.000 youngsters every year from the states, Debbie is sent to a behaviour modification facility by her parents in order to adjust her way of life. This is her story.
Selected for the graduation show
Susan released me from the harness but left the gag. She took my parents on a tour around the school. She had me on a leash, so I followed them. They were very impressed but also surprised when they saw my box. My mother hugged me. “Oh my darling. It is harsh conditions, but you held your chin up and you will benefit from it in the long run.”
As we walked over to the main building, Susan asked my parents if they would see me getting my dressage outfit on for the first time. My mother looked like a question mark. “Dressage?”
“Yes. In one week it is time for another graduation. In fact I am one of those which will graduate this time. By the graduation, some selected students perform a show. It is a mix of Dressage and river dance. It is very hard and only selected students gets a chance to perform. Debbie is very skilled and the school has selected her to perform.”
“Oh – we would like to see it.”
Once inside the main building, I was freed from the corset. Normally we only shower once a week and it felt strange without the corset. My body had become accustomed to wearing a corset so in a strange way I miss it every time it comes off.
My parents sat in a pair of chairs when I was followed into the lacing room. They watch very carefully and I was cuffed to the lacing bar and to the floor. Then the new corset was introduced. It was made from leather and red instead of my usual black corset. Susan and the guard began to tug. I whimpered a little when they were almost finished and I think I saw a little tear in my mother’s eye. It was so tight. At the end I made a grunt every time they tugged at the laces. “We are finished. Sixteen inches!”
When I was lowered to the ground one of the guards fastened my shoulder straps. They pulled my shoulder back. I was excepting cuffs, but as Susan said. “Debbie has proven herself. No she will only wear restraints outside the campus.”
In an odd way I missed my cuff. I felt naked and also a little scared. Being cuffed also in a way made me feel protected because I did not have to decide anything. During the entire stay others have decided what I had to do and it had made me feel protected.
I got some new boots which were intended for the show and but not least they fitted me with a new posture collar. As before I couldn’t turn my head and I had to turn my entire body to face my parents. “How does it look?”
They looked at me with a shocked expression but father were able to control himself. “Spectacularly, my dear.” I could see that he was lying but somehow I didn’t mind. They had put me here and there was no reason for them to be shocked if they had done their homework before they shipped me off. (Many years later they told me, they in fact had spent more time deciding which car to buy than what kind of school I was sent to.)
One of the guards came in. “It’s time.”
“Debbie. You have to say farewell to your parents now. Their cart is ready.” We hugged and cried a last time before they went out the door. I sobbed quietly when we saw their cart leaving the campus. Then Susan took me and introduced me to another girl, which had entered the room. “Say hey to Lorna. She is your new mentor and her task is to make you ready for the show and level four.”
“Why can’t I continue to work with you?”
“Because I have to study hard alone and concentrated for my exam. I am soon due for my graduation. But calm down. Lorna only wants to do what is best for you. Do make me proud. Bye.”
Susan left and I turned to Lorna. She was a stern looking girl almost six feet tall. Of course she had a slim waist but she was also very muscular. She spoke to me “I am going to try to make you ready for the show. It won’t be a holiday. Follow me”
We entered a gym and Lorna gave me a matching head harness on with colourful plumes on the top and the obligatory bit gag. Also an arm binder came on. She ordered into the centre of the gym and grabbed a whip. Then she showed me a video with a sequence of the dance I was going to perform. It became my turn to reiterate what I had seen. Whenever I failed to do it exactly she gave me a small lash with the whip. It hurt. We worked for an hour and she held a bottle of water for me, so I could drink. I expected so sit for a while. I was sweating and panting, but she showed no mercy. I was ordered back and repeat some new steps.
After I while the surroundings became blurred. Lorna could see that she had pushed me to my limit. “You are a wimp.” Then she took another whip and gave a lash. It struck me on my buttock and I lost completely balance. Never had I felt such a pain. “This is my bullwhip. Pull yourself together or I will teach you how to concentrate. You are sloppy and not material for a dancer at the show.”
I cried and in addition to the pain from the blow I also hurt my arm, when I fell. Lorna came over and connected a leash to the bit gag so she could pull me onto my feet again. Once I was standing again, she looked me into my eyes. “I hate lazy students that don’t acknowledge why they were sent here and don’t appreciate the second chance they got in this school. You are going to pull your self together right now. Stop crying or I will give you reason to cry.”
Somehow I managed to do two other sequences before Lorna was satisfied. I was lead out of the gym and over to the stables where the boy waited. Judith was already connected to the walker. The boy commented my outfit, which made Lorna send him an angry look. He was send over to a guard and later he returned with gagged with ball gag and an arm binder on. “I don’t like boys that can’t hold their tongue when they see a girl. It shows poor discipline and is disrespectful against womankind. It called for punishment.” The guard came over, stopped the walker and connected something to the chain hanging down from the walker. Lorna positioned the boy and I could see pain in his face when they connected the chain. When they moved away from him, I saw what they had done. They had put nibble clamps on him. Man - that must hurt! But they were not finished. The guard bended down and did something with his genitals. The boy groaned and made whimpering sounds. Lorna commented. “Well, a ball stretcher with some weight will cool him down. Now for you!” I tried to move away but the guard quickly came over and held me tight, while Lorna also worked with the clamps. I screamed when the first clamp came on. Never in my life had I felt so much pain. Then the next clamp came on. It was unbearable. Judith was also sobbing due to my torment and I could see tears rolling down on the boy’s cheeks.
The walker was started and even though I was too tired, I was very carefully to keep the pace. My nibbles hurt so much. After 15 minutes I could take it a little better. Still, I sobbed. Level three should be so much better. We walked and walked for an hour before Lorna was satisfied with my performance. I was freed which meant more pain when the blood returned to my nibbles. I bit very hard on my bit; I was drooling and sobbing at the same time.
I still sobbed when we left the stable. I could see both the terror in Judith’s face and the suffering in the boy’s face.
Lorna took me over to the main building where she quickly cleaned me with a cloth and some cold water before I was followed to the dining hall.
For the first time in a very long time I slept in a bed that evening.
The next two weeks went by with strict training all day long. Susan’s graduation would take place on Saturday just two days before Brian would arrive. The last three days I trained with the other student selected for the show.
Graduation takes place in a large building outside the campus in order to keep the exact procedure a secret. When we entered, the parents were already present. Every family had its own table. After the head master had announced our first number we entered the stage and performed. We received our applause and took some seat next to the stage.
Then the head master introduced the graduates and they took other seats next to the stage and started on a speech. I didn’t remember much of it. I looked for Susan and found her. She was dressed in a beautiful long white grown. All the dresses were like taken out of a picture from about year 1900. The boys were clothed in sailor's dresses and due to their figure I could guess that they still had corset on under their clothes.
After the speech we did another number and then it was time for the graduation ceremony. The guards came with isolation hoods and cuffs for us and we sat in darkness for about a half hour before we were allowed to see again. Susan had come over to me. Her make-up had run over her face, so her reunion must have been emotional. “Oh. Debbie. You made it to be allowed to perform. I am so happy for you. I knew your potential the minute I saw you. You being here mean so much to me. I want to be a teacher and you had proved to me that I can inspire people.” She kissed me and staggered back to her table. She looked somewhat painful when she sat down, which I found odd. She must have adjusted to her corset by now.
However, I did not get a chance to wonder about it further because we should perform you last dance. After the dance when we were getting ready to leave for the campus, I got the bumbled into Susan for the last time during my stay at the school. She only said two words very silent, but I knew what they meant. The first word was myspace and the second one I don’t want to reveal here.
The policy of the school is that we all were enrolled for personal reasons and alone. When we leave is it alone. Like most every behaviour modification facilities it is not considered to be accepted to keep contact after graduation here too. Some former students I since have talked to in my present work as a child psychologist all express that their experiences seems like a bad dream. Not even their parents understand how they had felt because they often undergo brainwash during parent seminars themselves. Knowing Susan’s homepage helped both her and me during later crisis in my life.
I stood in the hall with Lorna and waited for Brian. The door went up and a hooded boy in restraints entered. He was not taking it very well and tried to twist and turn whenever the escorts relaxed for a moment. When he was placed on a bench in the lacing room, I talked to one of the guard from the escort division. As usual they had entered his bedroom at about 3 a.m. in the morning, but he had been in town and was not at sleep. So he had tried to run towards the window. Luckily the escort division had tasers and they were able to stop Brian before he got the chance to jump out of the window.
Still both with isolation hood and cuffs at arms and legs he resisted them whenever he had the chance. Both Lorna and I understood that we had to break him in, before he even could enter level one.
The head master was out in town this day, so it was our task to tell him where he was and what we expected from him as a student. Normally the speech would be made before he is escorted to the lacing room, but he was too aggressive that we simply did not dare start the introduction before he was safely tied up to the lacing bar.
With a little help from the guard we got him secured. Luckily he only slept in pants, so we did not have to remove too much clothes. We hoisted him off the ground. He was protesting all he could but of course we could not understand what he said due to the hood.
Lorna took a step ladder and climbed up and removed his hood. First he was disorientated and blinked his eye in order to focus. Then he saw me. “Debbie??”
“Hey Brian. Welcome to Meditation Inlet – your new boarding school.”
“What? Please, let me out of here. What is this?”
“I hate to repeat myself, so listen very carefully. I will say this only once.” (I saw this phrase used in a TV-series. It seems to work). “Your parents have chosen to send you to this boarding school in order to solve your problems with alcohol as well as other kind of disobedience. Here you will a second chance to redeem yourself with your parents.”
“But I don’t need a fix. I am a normal kid. You know me!”
“I knew you as a polite and well-mannered boy but obvious you have changed. This conversation is over. Now for your school uniform.” Lorna started to wrap it on to Brian.
“No. Stop it is woman clothes.”
“Here it is mandatory for students regardless of sexes.” Lorna stepped down from the ladder and she started to lace the corset together with a guard. Brian continued to yell and curse at us, but we knew that our actions were for his best, so we did not stop. I have been through it myself. A part of me felt the odd feeling of your lounges being compressed and the feeling of lost of control over your body. It is almost a witty development to pass through. Soon his vocal pitch died out and all he could muster was a grunt when Lorna and the guard tugged. “21 inches! In a month he will be down to 19 inches.” We lowered him to the floor but before he released him, we saw to that he had an isolation hood on. He was still rebellious and tried to put his feet against anything he got close to. It took us four people to get him into O.P. and placed in the toilet chair.
We left him and I had the task to feet him and clean him, so I returned every three hour. He ate but did not speak to me. I tried to get his attention, so I at least could tell him why he was sent here, but he just looked at me with an angry and unforgiving look when he removed the blindfold part on the hood.
He did not pee nor pooh either. I consulted Lorna because it could be dangerous if he withheld motions. She suggested laxative in a strong soup so he couldn’t taste it. After his last meal it did not take long before he moved his bowels. When I cleaned him I heard that he was sobbing. Had I managed to break him?
That evening, when I turned him in, I could see his despair, but when I asked him if he wanted to talk, he just turned his head away. I went to the dinner hall where I saw Paula sitting with a plateful of soup.
I was hungry and also took some soup and went over to Paula. Brian’s torments had brought back memories from my own start on the campus. We had been sitting sipping for a while, when Paula asked me if I had a question.
“Paula. I know why I was sent here. Brian’s story is also well known to me. If you don’t mind, I would like to hear your story. A rumour is going around that you are not from the states and therefore I find it odd, that you are here. After all I have heard that it is only American Parents that are sending their children into such places.”
“Yes that it correct. I am a Dane. I am here voluntarily.”
Voluntarily!!? I could not believe my ears.
Paula noticed my jaw dropping to the ground. “Yes. I am here voluntary. It is a part of my work to improve my grades back in Denmark and also something I do to get experience when I start my work at the rehabilitation and Research Centre for torture victims back in Copenhagen. As a part of my study I have been put inhere with a somewhat false story.”
“Yes, in my records it is stated that I am sexual active and that I also use alcohol. Because I am only 20 it is a problem over here, but in Denmark it is within the laws to drink alcohol at an age of 19 and sex is also allowed when you become 18.”
“You are kidding!”
“I still don’t understand it. Why go through this when you can avoid it?”
“We do have some problems with younger people doing those things and of course we also have a drug problem in the Danish society. We are dealing with them but I wanted to see what other countries are doing. Before I came here, I was in a place in Tennessee which turned out to be run by bondage fetishes’. The counsellors had their bizarre interest published on their private myspace pages, so I knew what I was getting into in advance.”
“But I found it extremely challenging here.”
“Of course it is challenging but due to research my in Denmark, I took a course done by some of our elite soldiers so I was prepared for my journey. Those kinds of courses are common and in fact mandatory when Danish diplomats or businessmen visit risk zones around the world. You will be surprised to learn how very
little dissimilarity there are between torture in war zone and what is going on in the so-called Therapeutic Boarding School like this place.”
“How could it be torture when it is for our own good?”
“You think that it is for your own good, but just a few years. It will come back to you and hunt you in your sleep.”
“And I saw you as a program girl. Why were you so harsh against me, when I was selected for the show?”
“There were two reasons. First of all I play along so I can graduate and do a report of my findings when I return home. Second and not last: You needed it. Running around and feeling sorry for your self won’t do you any good in the future. I don’t know what kind of parents that did bring you up but hiding the reality of life for you has not been good. You are so naïve!”
“What? My parents have just tried to do what they found best for me.”
“Yes - that misunderstanding and was come from it is a destiny that you share with many of your fellow countrymen. I find it sick that a 20 year old serviceman can loose this life in Iraq with being able to enjoy a single beer legally just once in his life. But for the time being stick to your opinion. It will make you able to graduate from the program.”
I was confused and did not want to go any further into the subject. I wanted to talk about Brian. I was concerned about him. I wanted him to move forward in the program. He would only be able to do that if he confronted his problems and acknowledge his failures.
“How can put even more pressure on Brian? He seems not to break. It is so important for me to have him progressing in the program. I want him to be on at least level 2 before I graduate.”
“You love him?”
“Yes – At least I think so.”
“Lets see. I think I know how to help you. Extend the introduction period to Saturday. I will help you with the milking process. If that doesn’t break him, then we have a problem.”
“Oh, don’t you listen? Every one knows that all males students are forced to ejaculated once a week in order to prevent development of prostate cancer later in life. Long term denial has been research and the findings are that it will increase the risk of prostate cancer, so the school has ordered all male students to be milked once a week in order to prevent law suits.”
“I would like to help out.”
“I have to warn you. It can rather emotional. Some of the boys are not exactly going along with the process.”
“Still, I want to help.”
The week went on. Every day I followed Brian down to O.P. where I feed him and clean him without getting even a small smile from him. Not a single sign of progress. I can’t tell you how deeply worried I was. Then it was Saturday.
Paula and I followed Brian down to the cabin where the milking process was going to be done. Once inside we took the hooded boy over to a gynaecology treatment table where we strapped him securely. Paula removed the flap covering his genitals and motioned me to come closer. “Take it into your hand and tease him so it becomes erect. We have to put a masturbator on to it and it can not be done when it is in a limp condition.”
It felt warm. Of course it did not smell so good. He had not been in a bath since his arrival. Brian was nervous and tense. He was trembling. Paula showed me where to touch him and where males were especially sensitive.
The masturbator came on and we started it. Paula ordered me to lick his nibbles. As I had my head near his head, I could hear sobbing sounds from within the hood. His nibbles became erects. Then Paula took my shoulder and I turned to see his fluid flowing in the masturbator. Never in my life had I seen such a sight. It seems to go on forever. When the flow died out, Paula took it and saw to that his semen was poured into test tubes.
“What are you doing?”
“The school has ordered that all the semen has to be collected and put into the fridge. I don’t know why, but that is the order.”
When she was finished, she had a cryptic smile on her face. “Well, that was for the school. The next one is for Brian. Go for it my girl. Do as you did before.”
I tried but it did not want to. Brian was still sobbing and now it became louder. Paula shook her head. “Don’t mind him. He is just sensitive. In fact I find his sissy behaviour disturbing. Remove the mouth piece.”
When I removed it, Brian started to beg us to stop. “Debbie. I know you are there. Please, stop. I will do what you ask from me.”
“Annoying – isn’t it?” She gave me another mouth piece. It had a kind of rubber penis on. I looked at her with disbelief. “Yes it is going in his mouth so we can work in peace without disturbance.”
When I tried to push it in inside his mouth, he clenched his teach. However, Paula just took his balls with a firm grab. When she applied pressure, he opened his mouth in order to protest and I was able to force the mouth piece into place.
Now we were able work in peace, but his penis was not rigid. Paula had an ace up in her sleeve. She showed me an odd item. “What is that?”
“It is a prostate massager. It goes inside his anus where so we can provoke his system in order to for him to achieve a second orgasm. That will teach him that we control every aspect of his body, even his ability to breathe deeply and when to get a relief. If that fact doesn’t break him, we are in problems.”
Paula lubricated it and pressed very gently against his sphincter. His body tensed up. When it entered we could see how the shock went through his body. It gave some life to his penis but not very much. Paula asked me to open a drawer where I found a ball stretcher. Even though I had seen how it was used during my training, I had not put it on someone before, so Paula put it on. It had a leather strap that went around the base of his scrotum beside the stretcher. Applying the stretcher helped making his penis erected. It was clear that he was very sensitive. Almost every touch made him try to twist and turn. Luckily the restraints were able to hold him back. We did not hold back on our work with the prostate massager and although we have changed the gag it was obvious that he did not enjoy our treatment. He came once more. This time it was a slow flow. When it stopped Paula wanted to talk to Brian. He started to beg at once when the gag was removed.
“Please, stop. Why are you doing this to me?”
“You are doing it to yourself. Work with us in order to stop your abuse of alcohol and your disobedience against your parents.”
“I have no problem.”
“Then we will go for a third time.”
“No. Don’t. I will do as you say. Just stop. I can not take it.”
“OK. We will take your word for it. You can rest for the rest of the day, but tomorrow you will start on Level one and work on your personal tasks. We want to see progress within a week or you will be milked twice next Saturday. However, I have to hear it from your own mouth. Are you an alcoholic?”
Brian held his promise. Although he did not say anything to me, he followed along quietly wherever we went. It took only a week for him to finish his personal tasks.
To be continued...