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, medic, slash, humil, exhib

   ~~~~~~

   Louis showed up at the home alone this time.  His mother and father
wouldn't even look at him, too disgusted with his behaviour to bother
taking him themselves.  Instead, they sent him off in the carriage to make
the journey by himself.

   He wouldn't be here, of course, if one of the maids hadn't walked in on
him two nights before with his fingers in his arse, moaning uncontrollably.
And he wouldn't have been making this journey alone if he hadn't already
made it just a few weeks before.  The second time heading down this
countryside path was no easier; the second time watching the imposing brick
home that Louis had thought he'd left behind for good made his stomach turn
in fear.

   Doctor Styles' Nursing Home For Wayward Boys, as his destination was
called, was technically a medical facility, where specialised doctors took
great measures to remedy the growing issue of youth masturbation.  To
Louis, it was hell.

   When the carriage pulled up, he was greeted by a familiar head of blond
hair.  The familiarity didn't comfort him one bit, though.

   The blond man jogged out the front doors with a plastered-on smile,
already beginning his spiel before Louis had even stepped out of the
carriage.  "Good morning, and welcome to Doctor Styles' Nursing Home For
Waywa--wait, Louis?  Is that you?" He stopped, jaw dropped almost
comically.

   "It's me, Niall," Louis replied in a weary tone.  "I'm back."

   "You--" Niall sucked in a harsh breath.  "I believe Doctor Styles has
only had three or four boys return since he opened this home."

   "Well, here I am.  Is it gonna be worse for me this time, since I came
back?" Louis gulped as Niall led him inside.  He heard the carriage driver
click his tongue and the horses take off before the doors shut behind him.

   "I'm afraid so." The two of them walked up to a tall solid oak door. 
Niall rapped on it twice.  "Doctor Styles, it's Niall.  I have Louis
Tomlinson with me."

   "Come in," was the response from the other side.

   Louis really was not ready to face the doctor again.  Not only had this
doctor's treatments been--unconventional, to say the least, but this doctor
was also the indirect cause of Louis' need for a return trip.  Cruel as he
had been, he was also attractive, in a strange way, and it had been
thoughts of his fingers and hands that drove Louis to take control of his
own release that night in his room.

   Niall pushed the door open and there sat the doctor.

   Doctor Harry Styles couldn't have been older than thirty, though he
carried himself like the sternest of Louis' tutors and commanded ten times
more fear.  His hair was dark and curly, trimmed neatly, and his green eyes
were cold, almost calculating.  Sometimes Louis wondered if the doctor
spent his free time in his office just thinking of new ways to torture the
patients.

   "Thank you, Niall," the doctor spoke, standing up and walking out from
behind the desk.  "Have you completed the paperwork?"

   Niall shook his head.  "No, Doctor Styles.  The arrangements were only
just made yesterday."

   "Go finish the paperwork.  I need to discuss some things with Mr. 
Tomlinson here."

   For a few moments, Harry and Louis stood just looking at each other. 
Harry cleared his throat, and Niall scampered out of the room, shutting the
door behind him.

   "Dress code," Harry said, crossing his arms and sitting back behind his
desk as though that made perfect sense.

   "Dress code?" Louis echoed.  "What--"

   "Do not try to tell me you forgot your state of dress during your stay?"
Harry raised an eyebrow, and Louis flushed as he understood the
implication. "And do not turn around.  Modesty does not exist here for
you."

   Cheeks burning red, he disrobed quickly, folding his clothes as neatly
as possible and setting them on the desk at Harry's gesture.

   "You understand that you are one of the very few patients I have treated
that have needed to return, yes?"

   "Yes, Harry." Louis clasped his hands in front of him nervously, a
motion Harry didn't miss.

   "Arms at your sides," he commanded, and Louis did as he was told.  "As a
result, I have needed to develop a specialised treatment regimen for you
this time around, because clearly, your month's stay here taught you
nothing.  You will stay not in your own room, but in my quarters.  You will
have your own cot and receive your treatments there.  Your meals will be
brought there there as well.  You will be allowed outside for your daily
exercise period, but at a different time than the other boys." Harry leaned
forward, folded hands resting on the surface of his desk.  "Louis, did you
find the time between meals and treatments boring?"

   There was no point in lying.  "Sometimes."

   "That too will change.  Instead of sitting idly about, I have created
obedience lessons, if you will.  Reactive punishment has not been enough
for you, so perhaps by teaching you obedience, we can prevent other issues
in the future.  Do you understand?"

   "Yes, Harry."

   "Oh, and one more thing." A slight smirk appeared on Harry's formerly
expressionless face.  "If you misbehave, I will not hesitate to make an
example out of you to the other boys.  That means you are not safe from
another punishment in the courtyard should you misbehave."

   Louis gulped audibly, hands clenching into fists to keep from moving
them to cover himself.  A dull "yes, Harry" was all he could manage.  His
mouth felt stuffed full of cotton, dry as bone.

   The doctor glanced at the clock sitting at the corner of his desk and
hummed.  "Half nine.  I need to see to some things with Doctor Payne," he
said, rising from his seat, "so whilst I do that, I will give you your
first lesson.  Come forward and bend over my desk."

   Swallowing thickly, Louis took a few timid steps forward until he was
standing right in front of the desk, and slowly bent at the waist until his
chest was pressed flat to the wood.  At Harry's order, he reached forward,
hooking his fingers over the edge to hold on and keep his body spread out.

   "And spread your legs.  Wide.  As wide as you can."

   Turning his face into the side of his arm to hide his blush, Louis
shuffled his feet apart, trying not to lose his grip on the end of the
desk. He wasn't quick enough, though, and soon Harry's foot was pushing
each of his ankles outward, drawing a small pained whimper from the back of
his throat.  Finally, the doctor reached between Louis' legs, pulling his
cock from where it had been trapped between Louis' body and the table, and
arranged it so it was between his legs, pointing straight down at the
floor.

   "Now, you will stay there, without moving, until I come back.  I will
know if you move.  Behave," the doctor admonished him.  Louis heard the
door open and the doctor leave, but he subsequent sound of the door closing
never came.  Harry was going to leave him here like this with the door
open! Louis almost sobbed in humiliation--the desk faced the door, so in
this position, anyone who walked by would see him bent over and spread like
this.  At least they wouldn't see his face.  So Louis pressed his nose into
the desk and took a shaky breath in, trying to force his muscles to stop
quivering.  The worst part was, his cock, forced awkwardly against the edge
of the desk, had reacted to all of this with a series of twitches, and
Louis groaned.

   "Please don't get hard," he whispered to himself, but to no avail.  No
matter how many terrible, morbid thoughts he tried to force into his mind,
every current of air that brushed against his exposed hole and balls sent
sparks of arousal through his nerves.  He wondered if the doctor was taking
a long time coming back on purpose; he wouldn't be surprised if that were
the case.

   Every time he heard footsteps outside the door he hoped it was Harry
returning, but by the fourth time, Louis had begun to wonder if it was
simply Harry walking past to make him nervous, or actually other nurses and
doctors seeing him so exposed like this.

   It felt like hours later when he finally heard footsteps enter the room
and the door shut.  "You stayed," Harry said.  Louis hoped he wasn't just
imagining the impressed tone.  "Good.  If you're on your best behaviour I
may send you home a few days early.  Stand up."

   Louis did, stretching his arms over his head to work out the kinks in
his back and glancing at the clock in the corner of Harry's office.  Only
five past ten!  Harry had been gone for little more than half an hour!

   "I need to see to the other patients now," the doctor went on, "so you
are to wait here for Niall to collect you and bring you to my quarters. 
Understood?" Louis nodded.  "Good.  I will see you at lunchtime." Harry
left the room again, this time shutting the door and leaving Louis alone to
work himself up.

   By the time Niall came in, Louis had worried himself so much that he had
to sit down, his heart pounding too loudly in his chest and his breathing
quickening.

   "Louis, are you feeling poorly?" Niall asked, reaching out a hand to
help him up.

   Louis shook his head but let Niall pull him up and lead him down the
hallway.  "Just nervous.  I'm afraid my treatments will be much worse than
last time."

   Niall said nothing more, only gave him a sympathetic look.  The doctor's
quarters were on the ground floor, at the very end of the hallway.  They
came to two more heavy doors, each bearing a name etched into a brass plate
fixed to the door.  "That one's for Doctor Payne," Niall said, pointing to
the one on the right.  "This one is Doctor Styles.  How much did he tell
you about your living arrangements?"

   "He said I would be living with him and only leaving for exercise
period," Louis answered, staring at the nameplate and trying his best to
breathe normally.

   "Alright, good.  He's really, er, personalising your treatment," Niall
said, opening the door.  They walked into what seemed to be a suite-like
arrangement of rooms; the one they entered first resembled a small drawing
room, with sofas and tables arranged neatly in the space.  Louis followed
Niall into the next room--Harry's bedroom, from the look of it.  A
too-familiar metal cot had been set up by the wall across from the large
bed; Louis' stomach turned.  He really would have no privacy at all.  The
one thing he expected to see but didn't was the modified spanking horse
that had taken up most of the room in his cell the last time he came to
visit, but he didn't dare ask where that was.

   "You'll be staying right here," Niall said, as though that weren't
already obvious.  "When Doctor Styles will administer all your treatments
here, and when he's with other patients, you'll have assignments to
complete.  But for now, you have none, so until he comes back I suggest you
rest."

   Resting sounded wonderful to Louis, who figured he wouldn't have this
kind of opportunity in weeks to simply lie down and breathe.  "Thank you,
Niall." Louis curled up on the cot, the scratchy sheets rough against his
skin, and he heard Niall's footsteps trail out of the room.
   He groaned.  What kind of troubles awaited him now?