It was in the middle of July, but the hospital room was no less chilly. I hugged myself, feeling the goosebumps on my skin as I cursed myself for having not brought a jacket. I looked around, eyeing the generic medical supplies that decorated the grey room. Nothing here was particularly interesting, but since my mom had taken my phone, I had no other choice but to sit and brood. I began squirming on the examination table, listening to the shoesteps and murmurs of the nurses on the other side of the door.

After what felt like aeons, the door finally opened. I jumped a bit as the doctor sauntered in, being lost in a daydream. She was a tall blonde, probably about six foot tall, though the black high heels she was wearing certainly helped. She was not only tall, but large in general. Not fat, but certainly full figured, with broad shoulders, wide hips, large breasts, and a big butt.  

“Hi Mr. Mays!” the doctor said, a bright smile on her plump pink lips.

“H-hey,” I murmurred back, feeling too shy to look into her blue eyes, which were shielded by a pair of black rimmed glasses. She took a seat on a rooling stool, crossing her legs as she scribbled on her keyboard.

“I’m Doctor Hanna, nice to meet you. So, it seems you’re here for obediance training?” She asked as she popped her heel in and out of her shoe. I tried not to oogle her legs, which were bare from the knee down, but it was difficult.

“Well, that’s why my mom sent me here, yeah,” I replied.

“Have you and her not been getting along recently?” She asked.

“Hell no!” I replied. “Ever since that goddamn matriarchy law got passed, she’s been such a controlling bitch, thinking that she owns me. I’m sick of it, if she hadn’t called the police I wouldn’t even fucking be here right now! Fucking cunt,” I said, my words soaked in bitterness. The doctor, on the other hand, was stoic. She listened to my diatribe with a straight face, writing notes on her clipboard and stroking her chin with a manicured finger.

“I see that this is an emotional topic for you,” she replied. “Follow me, please,” she said, rising from her seat and walking to the door. I got up and followed her out of the room. She walked me to an elevator, which we both entered. She used her slender fingers to punch in a series of numbers, and the elevator started to go down. I stood there, playing with my hands in silence until the elevator doors opened.

The room before us was a fancy and well furnished basement. There were comfortable looking sofas, chairs, and other furniture, which were illuminated by the dimly lit wall mounted lights. There was a red carpet in the middle of the room, on top of which was a table. 

“Where are we?” I asked.

“The basement,” replied the doctor. “This is where we rehabilitate disobedient males.”

“Oh Jesus, can’t you just let me go? I’m not gonna become my mother’s bitch boy, regardless of how hard you or the legal system try, so why don’t you just quit trying?” I said, my face reddening and tears forming in the corners of my eyes. The doctor looked at me sternly.

“I’m sorry, but that’s not going to happen. As a militant feminist employed by the Matriarchal States of America, it’s my upmost duty to my country that I make sure the male sex occupies its proper niche: being obedient to the women. I have dealt with many men and boys, and none so far have been able to resist my training. No matter how defiant they are when they’re admitted to our facility, they will always leave a sycophantic puppy dog, eager to please their mothers, wives, aunts, and sisters. I see no reason why you’d be the exception.” The doctor said, folding her arms under her chest, looking at me like some kind of cretin.

“Fuck you,” I barked back. The doctor said nothing. She walked out of the elevator to the table. She sat on the sofa adjacent to the table and bent forward, pulling out a drawer. She grabbed something from inside, but I couldn’t see what it was. As I stepped out of the elevator, Dr. Hanna stood and began walking towards me quickly, so quickly that it caught me off guard. When she got up close, she reached out a hand, slapping the back of my neck.

“Ow, what the fuck, that hurt!” I hollered, rubbing the spot on my neck that she slapped. Upon doing so, I noticied that there was a kind of metal chip there, with prongs on the end digging into my skin. “What the hell is this?”

“That, Mr. Mays, is one of our nation’s finest inventions. It’s a metal chip that affixes tightly to the skin. Once applied, the operator can use the accompanying smartphone app to execute all sorts of functions. Chief among these is electrocution,” the doctor said, a gleam in her eye as she explained the esoteric machine.

“This is bullshit,” I said, trying to peel the chip off my neck.

“You can try as you like, but it’s not coming off. The chip is built to be virtually inseperable from the skin, unless the operator frees it with the app. And even if you could remove it, I’d strongly suggest you don’t, since it’s affixed to your central nervous system. An unexpected removal could do some serious damage,” the doctor said.

“Fucking bullshit,” I said, still brewing with fury. The doctor pulled out her phone and pressed some buttons. Suddenly, a wave of pain shot through my body, feeling as if I had just lickt a power outlet. I yelled and got on the floor, writhing as I waited for the pain to subside.

“The first step of your obedience training,” said the doctor, “will be working on that mouth. It’s of utmost importance that a male excerise proper manners when in the presence of a lady, and that includes the avoidance of foul language.”

I laid there on the floor, heaving. I looked up into the doctor’s face, which, despite its beauty, bore an expression of cruel apathy to my suffering.

“W-w… what the hell is wrong with you?” I asked behind tears. The doctor didn’t reply. She once again pressed the electricity button. I screamed as the waves of searing pain surged around my body. As I laid on the floor crying, I heard the doctor’s heels click clack towards me. I looked up at her, boiling with hate. I so desperately wanted to tell her off, to attack her, to run away, but I knew that would only prolong my suffering.

“The more defiant you are, the longer your punishment will last. The quicker you are to cooperate, the less you have to suffer,” the doctor said. “Do you understand?”

I continued staring up at her hatefully, saying nothing. In response, Dr. Hanna threateningly raised a finger over her phone screen.

“Okay, yes, I understand! For Christ’s sake please don’t!” I hollered. The doctor smiled.

“See? We’re making progress already. Of course, your manners are still far from where they should be, but this is a work in progress after all,” she said. “Next, I would like you to take off your clothes.”

“What?” I asked, still kneeling on the floor.

“I need you to take off all your clothes. This is an imporant step in submissive reprogramming,” she replied.

I really didn’t want to, but I knew I had no choice.

“God damnit,” I mumbled under my breath. Upon hearing this, the doctor admisitered a sharp, quick shock. Not as horrible as the previous two, but certainly unpleasant.

“Okay, okay I’m sorry!” I said as I stood up and removed my shirt. I tossed it onto the couch and removed my Nikes and socks, before undoing my belt and taking off my jeans. I now stood before the doctor wearing only my boxers, feeling terribly embarassed.

“Your underwear, too,” she said.

“What? Are you kidding me?” I snapped back.

“No. As previously stated, nuditiy is a necessary part of submission training. Any further resistance will be met with punishment,” said the doctor with a cold look in her eyes. I cursed her in my mind as I pulled down my boxers, tossing them on the couch.

“Thank you,” said the doctor. She went to the couch and began piling up my clothes, which she tossed into the corner. She then took a seat on the couch, crossing her legs.

“Alright, then. For our next activity, I’m going to need you to grab the ottoman over there,” she said, pointing to said ottoman against the right wall. I picked up the white piece of furniture and carried it over to the couch, where I placed it before Dr. Hanna. She then proceeded to kick her high-heeled feet up on it, crossing them over the ankles.

“Our next activity,” she continued, “ is going to be foot pampering.”

“What? Foot pampering?” I asked.

“Yes. You’re going to massage my feet, kiss them, and lick them. You will also suck my toes and compliment me on my feet,” she said with a straight face. I thought she was joking for sure, and burst our laughing.

“You’re telling me you want me to suck on your nasty feet?” I said, chuckling. In response, Dr. Hannah pressed another button on her phone, which sent a searing wave of pain through my whole body, a pain worse than any of the previous shocks combined. I hit the ground, clenching my temples and screaming.

“It’s never, I repeat, never acceptable to tell a lady’s that any part of her is nasty,” the doctor said. I looked up at her, shivering.

“Now, pull off my shoes and set them on the table,” she commanded.

“Please… please don’t make me do this,” I said, on the verge of crying.

“I’m sorry, but you must. Come on now, don’t make this even worse for yourself,” the doctor said coldly. I sniffled and got down on my knees before the ottoman. I was now face to face with the soles of Dr. Hanna’s black stiletto heels. I reached out and grabbed her left shoe, slowly peeling it off her foot. Her foot was on the big side for a woman, but still proportional to her body in general. Her wide, wrinkled sole was a turned a peach color from being held in her shoe all day, and they shined with a thin layer of sweat.

I looked back into Dr. Hanna’s eyes. They were cold as ever, silently telling me to get busy. I looked back down at her feet, removing the other heel and setting both to the side of the ottoman.

“Good. Now start massaging them,” she said. I placed both hands on her left foot, grimacing as her sweat coated my fingers. I used my thumbs to press into her sole, hands still shaking from the treatment I’d received. Dr. Hanna sighed and laid back her head while scrunching her toes.

“I must say, you’re not bad at this,” she chuckled.

“Well, my mom likes to make me do it… or she trys at least,” I said.

Suddenly, while rubbing her feet, I began to feel good. And by good I mean really good. I felt a soft warmth flow through me as I cracked a stupid smile. I began giggling slightly as I looked up at the doctor, who was pressing buttons on her phone.

“Feeling good down there?” she asked, grinning. “That chip isn’t all bad you know. While it’s important to punish wrongdoing, rewarding good behavior is vital.” Upon hearing that this bout of euphoria was brough on by that damned chip, I felt anger boiling up in me. However, this ire was supressed by a greater wave of pleasure. I began laughing hysterically, grabbing onto the doctor’s ankles to keep myself from hitting the floor.

“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, but we must get back to work,” said the doctor. She pressed a few more buttons on her phone, lowering my emotional state to its default value. “Next, you are to plant a kiss on the sole of each foot. After that, you’re going to suck each toe for three seconds. Understood?” I grimaced. Having her sweat on my hands was bad enough, but now I was going to have to put her feet in my mouth?

I knew that resistance was futile, though, so I braced myself and puckered my lips. I learned forward, planting a kiss on the sole of Dr. Hanna’s right foot. My nose bore into the balls of her feet, and the warm smell shot right into my nostrils. I repeated the process with her other foot, before raising my head slightly. I took a deep breath and looked up at the doctor again. She was resting her head on her fist, a wry smile on her lips. I looked back down at her feet.

“Come on Mr. Mays, you know what to do,” she said, wriggling and scrunching her pedicured toes. I swallowed and parted my lips, bringing them down over the doctor’s big toe. The wet skin painted my tongue as I did, making me groan as my tastebuds were assaulted by the salty sweat. I applied some suction to the toe, before popping it out of my mouth.

“Very good. No do the rest,” said the doctor. I did as told, bringing my face up and down over each of her toes. As I was doing so, Dr. Hanna used her phone to send waves of pleasure through me. I moaned a bit as the endorphins surged through my mind.

I finished and look back at the doctor. She was smiling triumphantly.

“Excelent job. Now all I need you to do is say the following: ‘I’m honored to pamper your feet, Miss Hanna, and it’s my duty as a man to do so.’” she said. I squinted my eyes at her.

“Please… please don’t make me do this,” I said.

“Sorry, but you have no choice. Don’t make me use this again,” she said, holding up her smartphone. I twitched as she did, repeating what she said verbatim.

“Great work!” the doctor said, getting up from the couch and putting her shoes back on. “This concludes our treatment for today. When you’re ready to sleep, the bed is over there,” she said, pointing to the corner of the room. “The toilet is in that closet over there, and if you get bored, there are some books under the bed. I’ll be back tomorrow.” She walked back into the elevator, mashed some buttons, and disappeared.

I sat on the couch, holding my head in my palms and brooding. Being kept in this facility was bad enough, but now I had this horrible chip on my neck, allowing my captors to manipulate me at will. Little did I know, though, that the chip had a secondary function, one far worse than the shocks.