House Training
By RH Music
CHAPTER 2
When I finally woke up, I checked my watch and it was 8 AM the next morning. But still the room was completely dark except for the illuminated mannequin. I hadn't expected to sleep so long. Was there something in the seminal discharge I had drunk the night before? As I gradually woke up, I felt a growing discomfort: I had to urinate. What now? Just go in the corner?
Eventually I became fully awake and got out of bed. As soon as I did, the bed retracted back into the wall and the flashing light next to its handled turned off.
Wondering what to do, I walked over to the mannequin again, and looked into his eyes. I had survived his subjugation the previous night. What would be required of me today?
Curious, and a bit horny, I knelt carefully in front of the mannequin, and placed my lips around his cock, giving it a tentative suck.
Nothing happened.
I reached into the cuffs and grasped his buns.
Nothing moved. No clicks, no hands, nothing. The mannequin just stood there, staring down at me, impassive and immobile.
Eventually I gave up, disentangled myself from the mannequin and stood up. Just then I noticed that one of the doors was ajar. My heart leapt up. Was I free?
It was the wrong door. I opened it up and saw a toilet and a small shower. Well, it was certainly better than soiling my cell, I reasoned. I stepped into the bathroom and by force of habit I closed the door behind me.
*Click*
It locked behind me. Of course.
**TRAINING ENGAGED**
Intoned a voice from a speaker in the ceiling.
**LEVEL 2, CLEANING**
"That's just great," I muttered to myself. I sat on the toilet and did my business. It flushed automatically.
When I opened the shower door, I stopped short. There was no water nozzle, no faucet or hot and cold controls.
Instead, there was a rack.
That's the only possible description. It was a big open square, like a huge picture frame sticking straight out from the wall. At the top were wrist cuffs. At the bottom were little shelves with ankle cuffs where I was supposed to stand - like metal bondage flip-flops or something.
**Please stand in the frame**
The speaker in the ceiling requested.
"The hell with that!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. In frustration I slammed the shower door shut before crumpling to the floor, sobbing hysterically.
---
But what could I do? Locked in the bathroom with no escape.
**Please stand in the frame**
The exit door was securely locked. There was a second door in the bathroom, but it was locked too.
**Please stand in the frame**
I sat on the toilet getting used to the idea. "If the fucking house wanted to kill me," I reasoned, "it already would have." Once I had gotten used to the mannequin, it wasn't so bad. Just horribly degrading.
"And I can live with degrading," I reasoned with myself. "I can suffer whatever's necessary to get out of this hell-hole."
**Please stand in the frame**
I got up, removed my underwear, and dropped it on the floor. All of my other clothing was locked behind me in the other room. With a sigh, I opened the shower door and stepped into the shower. The frame was waiting for me.
Gingerly, I stepped up onto the foot pads at the base of the frame.
**Place the tube in your mouth**
Looking up, I noticed a tube with a strange, bulbous end hanging from the middle of the frame. I pulled it down and put it in my mouth. There were impressions in the tube that were obviously intended for my teeth. The tube was attached to a snorkel-mask which fit around my eyes.
**Grasp the handles at the top**
Just above each wrist cuff was a handle. I grasped both of the handles.
**Thank you**
*Click* - *Click* - *Click* - *Click*
Four cuffs closed over my wrists and angles. I was trapped, spread-eagle, on the frame. The foot pads slid further apart, separating my legs and exposing my penis and balls.
*Whuuff*
The tube expanded inside my mouth! It was a pump gag! In an instant it had jacked my mouth wide open, filling it completely. My tongue worked frantically, but it was
impossible to remove. The only saving grace is that I could still breathe out of my mouth, through a tube in the center of the gag.
At the same time, air was sucked out of the mask around my eyes. It adhered tightly to my face.
*BANG*
Two doors hinged open and the frame slid smoothly into the wall.
---
It was some weird, combination car-wash and amusement park ride. Completely dark, I was dragged through a world of water, brushes, and chemicals.
The frame would slide sideways for 10 feet (3m) or so, then stop with a jolt. On the first stop I was pummeled with hot water sprays. The jets seemed to be well aimed, one tight jet aimed directly at my asshole. Another series of jets forcefully jostling my penis and balls. Other jets stroked across my nipples, into my ears, and over my head.
Thoroughly soaked, the jets stopped and were replaced by softer jets spraying some gluey, noxious chemical over every inch of my body. Thank goodness for the breathing tube and the mask! A few seconds later and I was completely covered.
*Click!*
The frame slide sideways to the second station.
*Brrrrrunnnnnnnnn*
Large motors spun into motion.
*Whap!*
"MMMPPHMN!" I screamed into my gag, more from surprise than pain. A large, fat, wet, felt paddle had just slapped against my body.
*WHAP* - *WHAP*
Flexible felt paddles started to slap everywhere. I tried twisting out of the way, but there was no escape. Paddles would slap, then slide wetly over my body. Paddles came from all directions: on my back and front, sides, head, feet, legs. Worst of all were the paddles that came up from between my legs, slapping my balls and then sliding roughly over them before leaving. These alternated with paddles which slapped down on my penis, then curled around it as they rubbed down and off.
The paddles were slapping and rubbing the noxious gluey chemical into my skin, all over my body. Slapping, rubbing, and then returning to slap again.
After a good 15 minutes of slapping and rubbing, slapping and rubbing over every inch of my body, they finally stopped. I felt like my skin had been rubbed raw, and if I could have seen it I'm sure that it would have glowed pink.
Next it was brushes. Soft-bristle brushes attacked from all directions. I was literally submersed in vibrating brushes
which further scrubbed each and every inch of my body.
First, imagine that your body is locked inside a suit of armor. Every inch of your body is covered by the suit.
Next, imagine that the inside of that suit of armor is completely covered with soft brushes, all of them turned towards your body. Brushes in your crotch, brushes between your ass cheeks, brushes up and down each arm, brushes between each finger and each toe, brushes over your head, under your chin, over your stomach, inside each ear, etc.
Now imagine that the brushes are all vigorously vibrating, all at the same time. You are swimming in a suit of vibrating brushes.
And now you get an idea of what it was like.
After the brushes finished, my frame slid backwards to where I was rinsed. This time, instead of the noxious chemical, there was something decidedly more slippery and foamy, with an overpowering floral scent.
Then back to the slapping paddles and brushes.
Another rinse, then terri-cloth brushes (swimming in a sea of soft terri-cloth!), then blow dry and finally I was done.
Only the frame didn't leave from the same door where it had entered.
...continued in Chapter 3
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