"The Adventure of the White Room"
(M/m nc, horror)


None of this happened: it was just a dream. I say this from the beginning because one may think that people such as those I met in dreamland really exist. Well, maybe they do, but we can only hope we will never meet them.

As I said, it was a dream. I had been twisting and turning in my bed for a hour, unable to sleep. I was laying on my tummy with a white vest and white briefs, my skin wet with sweat and my hair sticking to my forehead. I had been spanked in the evening, of course, and as a result I was laying there at 9:00 pm with no dinner in my stomach and a very red and stinging bottom. I do not quite remember why had mom slippered me and dad belted me, but I reckon it had something to do with school teachers. Maybe some homework I had not done (which would surely earn me a hard dose of the slipper) or maybe some bad mark or back talking (which would earn me some thirty lashes with the belt). As long as I remember, maybe I had done them both. Anyways, I lay in bed still puffy from crying when I suddenly fell asleep.

I seemed to be waking up in a minute, but as I looked at the clock on the wall I realised it was four full hours. I got up for I was thirsty, drank a glass of water in the kitchen and went back to my room... but my room was not there anymore. Beyond the half-open door I saw a bright white light, so intense I had never seen before.

A shiver ran down my spine. I walked in. My desk was still there, but it stood alone in the middle of a white room. Blank white walls, and ceiling, and floor. Absolutely nothing except for the desk and a clock on the wall; it read 1:01, the exact time. I did not understand where all that light came from, since there were no lamps or even flashlights... just nothing. It reminded me of a hospital, where there is a light so bright and dry that it looks like watching an extremely sharp photograph. I could see every detail, but there was nothing to see except for the desk and the clock.

I shivered again and called: "Mom? Dad? Caitlin?" No answer came.

I turned around, and saw the door had disappeared too! I jumped back aghast, swallowing hard.

"You shan't need a door."

I turned again, to see a man standing between me and the desk. I let out a little scream of horror and surprise. My blood felt like icing. I wanted to run but did not know where to, and then my legs would not support me.

The man spoke again in his low, deep voice: "You are sealed here. With me," he stressed this last word. I had started to tremble by then, and suddenly realised that the man was a doctor: he had a medical suit and white latex gloves like a physician; in his hand he was holding something I could not see, for it was half hidden by the other arm leaning over it. It appeared to be long and made or steel or iron. It shone.

"Who... what..." I tried hard to speak some sensed words, but failed.

The doctor smiled, a perfect smile with perfect white teeth. They shone, too. Then he raised an arm, and pointed at me vaguely.

I felt something take my arms and carry me up. I looked around, but all I could see were hollow figures of tall women. They had me in tow and were bringing me to the doctor. I tried to resist and let out a howl, but I was scared as hell and only a pitiful little squeal came out. The hollow women deposited me in front of the doctor and disappeared.

He put a finger under my chin and raised it. He stared deep into my eyes. I wanted to die. I was afraid to die, also. I fought hard not to look in his yellow eyes, trying to concentrate on the stainless ceiling. Actually I was not sure there were ceilings or walls; all I could feel was a dry, cold floor under my feet, but hadn't I felt its touch I would not know it was there.

The doctor looked into my eyes and smelled my breath. Then he inspected my mouth and gazed down my throat. I dared not move.

"One healthy lad, indeed..." he said with a strong Scottish accent. "Let us look closer."

It happened fast: the doctor's moves had been slow and calculated until then, but now his arms flew around me. I felt him take me under my armpits and deposit me on the desk. I felt cold on my legs and bottom as I sat, and looked down to see that my desk was no more – it had been replaced by a four-legged steel plain. Off went my vest and I only had my white briefs and white socks on.

I breathed even harder, and was still unable to say a word. I felt my body heavy and dull, I knew I could do nothing and go nowhere. Yet I wanted to flee, and I wanted it bad.

A rush of immediate pain struck me as the doctor punched me hard into my chest. I screamt and fell back-down onto the steel plain. Eight hollow women appeared and surrounded me. They kept me still, their cold, transparent hands around my wrists and ankles and arms and legs. I tried to move and struggle free, but I could only raise my thorax and pelvis and would not go anywhere.

I suddenly remembered I had been hit hard in the chest: the pain had gone as soon as it had come. I looked down and saw a large hole digging deep into my skin. Green-coloured and apple-smelling ugly bugs were carving an even bigger hole, going in and outside my body. I screamed anew, blazing with terror.

I felt no pain. Yet they were there.

The doctor had vanished. Then he suddenly reappeared to my right. I looked and saw the instrument he held: it was a long, narrow, nasty-looking steel probe, one of those they use in hospitals. But it was at least twice as larger and up to three times longer. I wished I would not know what it was for, but I found myself being fully aware of it.

In one rapid gesture the hollow women spun me around. I lay face-down and the steel pressed into my mouth and cheeks. I felt my white briefs being pulled down to my knees and then to my ankles, where they joined my socks. Once again I was unable to move, but was crying and screaming in earnest.

"I reckon you need a thorough penetration today, boy. Shall we proceed, then? It will not hurt more than last time. Please, do try not to faint this time."

Had there been a "last time"? Had I fainted? Had I already been there? I remembered nothing of this. I just knew I wanted to go home, to my damp bed, to the cruel jokes of my little sister and the painful whippings from mom and dad.

Instead, I felt the steel probe pressing against my little bottom hole. The doctor smacked my buttocks twice on each side... SPANK! CRACK! WHACK! SPANK!... and then opened them wide. The probe slid in easily, but after an inch I felt a big pain building from inside my body.

I shrieked in agony as the doctor's mouth distorted in a horrid laugh, showing five-inches fangs with bloody little boy meat still dangling. The steel probe was still being pushed in; I turned around and saw it was maybe the size of two umbrellas. I laid still and took it, as I felt my insides exploding with pain. I knew it was impossible. Yet it was happening to me.

It suddenly stopped. The doctor laughed again and the hollow women vanished. The tip of the probe, two feet above my bottom, opened. A dozen of whips, canes and tawses came out, and the probe started turning round and round.

"This, my dearest lad," the doctor said in a funny tone, "is what happens to little 10-year-olds who are disrespectful to their teachers!"

And with that the dozen instruments began lashing into my meat. I was beaten raw, from my back down to my poor already red bottom, from my firm and fleshy thighs to my legs and feet. Every inch of my back part was spanked for good, and I screamt in agony like the day I was born.

When I thought I could take no more, everything stopped.

A thunder roared in the distance. Raindrop trails striped my windowpane. I jumped up in horror. My bed. My room. My desk. The posters, my notebooks and schoolbooks. Everything as planned. No light at all. No hollow things. No doctors.

No steel probes.

I ran fingers through my wet hair and smiled nervously. Then I brought a hand back and slipped it under my briefs to touch my bottom: I could feel the welts from the belt and the big blotches from the slipper. My skin was hot and swollen. But it was alright.

I was home again.




The author is completely against the practice of non-consensual spanking applied to children and teenagers as a form of discipline: it is dangerous, violating and potentially abusive. All my stories are archived at http://www.geocities.com/haley_brimley/