Chapter 17-2
20 Questions
Part 3
Once Shawn made it back to the hot tub, he climbed in and then tried to move over to our side so he could put his hands around my neck. He didn't make it partway before he felt his arm braces click together and scream in pain, bringing him to his knees as his ankles locked. She released only his legs as she got into the water, and she tisked at him. "Did you think it wouldn't work underwater? You stupid boy, they were designed to work as bombs did when they used them in the Cold War as they put them on enemy ships. The metal is so strong that you could beat them with a hammer and barely scratch them.
"They only come undone when I open them and enter the right sequence that only I know. You can't cut them off or break them open unless you are stupid enough to cut them off your arms and feet. Unless you think you could stand to lose an arm or foot you are more than welcome to try. I met a man who tried gnawing his arm off. He bled to death, but they still stayed on. You can pry all you want to on the collar or your bracelets, They have been designed to be seamless, I can even, if necessary, pin you to a wall or any metal that has been designed for them to lock you in place, Which you will soon learn when we go to bed tonight.
"I have had your boy's beds designed to prevent you from getting out of them yet let you sleep comfortably. The same goes for my bed when you and I have sex or many of the girls. Until you no longer need to be held in such a way, but neither will you be able to leave the room once you are inside it. I could leave the door open and as you have discovered you will not be able to cross the boundary unless I let you and that goes for any room in this house, including the pool, and weight room.
"You will obey me and your parents or anyone that asks you to do something. You will be treated fairly; you will be treated like everyone else as long as you are curtsies and respectful. Chores will be done on the same principle. Equally and fairly until you prove that you can't be respectful, you won't obey. I have other methods I can use that don't require pain but still get the same result. Just so you know." She smelled something as something brown made its way to the surface, and it wasn't as if someone farted. Shawn and Arthur smiled as they both let out a stream of brown chuck and liquid.
My friends and I quickly got out of the hot tub before it could reach us. Shawn and Arthur laughed even more. She stayed in and told Stringham to turn off the hot tub and drain it. She tisked. "And I was planning such a wonderful evening of getting aquatinted. Do you guys mind leaving us? I don't think I will be able to join you as planned. It's getting late, anyway. It seems that our children needed a lesson they soon won't forget."
She touched each of her bracelets, and Shawn and Arthur's wrist and feet clicked together. She climbed out as the water drained. Leaving them in their filth, she didn't cause them pain instead she had something else in mind. As she got out of the tub, we were curious to see what else she had in that bag. She smiled, telling us curiosity killed the cat, but she didn't make us leave pulling out a prisoner jumpsuit for each of them, and set to the side as she dug out a bottle of clear liquid.
I recognized it right away, knowing that the moment you drank it you would be on the toilet for at least a couple of hours. Until there was nothing left in your digestion. She used a turkey baster and made them both drink the entire bottle. Telling them once they had nothing left to stink or piss, they can scrub the hot tub to its pristine condition and refill it only using a bucket.
She carefully unfolded the prison jumpsuit, its rough fabric scratching against her fingertips, and placed it over a worn-out chair. The sound of the fabric rustling filled the air as she instructed them to clean the tub. The acrid smell of cleaning chemicals lingered, mixing with the faint scent of mildew in the bathroom. Mr. Stringham approached, his footsteps echoing on the tiled floor, and handed her a bathrobe, its softness a stark contrast to the jumpsuit. She could feel the weight of exhaustion settling in her bones as she began to clean up, the warm water soothing her tired muscles. Meanwhile, he observed them with a cold gaze, a sadistic smile playing on his lips.
The metallic clink of a bracelet caught her attention as she handed it to him, its cold metal sending a shiver down her spine. She left him to watch over them, his presence suffused with an eerie aura. With a flick of a button, the hot tub roared to life, its bubbling water drowning out their screams. The intense heat engulfed the room, causing both of them to collapse onto their knees, their cries of pain reverberating through the space. Terry guided her towards her room, their hurried footsteps resounding in her ears, followed closely by the others. As the door closed, a sense of urgency filled the air. Alison wasted no time, swiftly filling the tub with water. The boys and her sister, Ester, hurriedly entered the shower, the sound of rushing water mingling with the vigorous scrubbing of their bodies. She poured an excessive amount of skin softeners and bubble baths into the water, their sweet scents enveloping the room.
The overwhelming aroma of rubbing alcohol permeated the air as they doused themselves in it, its sharp sting on their skin causing them to question if they were truly clean. They prayed silently, hoping for purification. Suddenly, Dr. Sar's entered the room, laughter escaping his lips at the sight of empty bottles of rubbing alcohol strewn across the floor. His voice resonated with amusement as he reminded them of the mundane tasks of parenthood, comparing them to the current unpleasant situation. "I am sorry that happened. It won't happen again. Next time, they won't be able to do more than fart." She closed the door and left us to it. It still didn't make us feel better; we would have skipped having sex or break in the new bed if we weren't so damn horny.
It was different having sex on a waterbed, and I can say I really, liked it. We were playing Spider Love for the fifth time when Sara, my nurse, came into the room. She smiled. "No need to get up our stop. I just came in to hook him up to the I.V. and take his stats before I turn in for the night." Ester chose to stop anyway and said we were at it for a while.
Sara nodded and quickly did her job. I cringed, watching the needle go into my arm. I am not a friend of them. The way I am today, one of the main reasons why is because I don't feel them anymore, because most of my nerves are dead, meaning I could put large pins in my arm and never really feel anything. I have had a doctor test that theory, after my car accident where I had damaged my neck and was putting some sort of nerve blocker, so they could work on it in physical therapy.
The needle was long, and I mean really long. He told me it would hurt. Yet when he inserted it I felt no pain whatsoever and he did it twice totally convinced that my nervous system is really messed up and is dying. Now needles don't bother me in the least. Even when I recently went in to have a wart removed the size of a nickel on the side of my left foot.
The doctor tested the theory, a completely different Doctor than the other, and told him that most of the nerves in my feet were dead. He had a painkiller if I needed one, laying the needle close by just in case as he cut off the wart. Then dug it out, asking me if I felt anything. I shook my head and continued on telling me I should feel this. When he began to freeze the rest of it and the skin, he asked again. Yet I didn't feel it and my foot never moved to indicate it was in pain. It bleeds like crazy with no pain. He was convinced that what I was telling him was true. He didn't want to test the arm or neck theory, but I showed him using a couple of safety pins. Sure, there was blood, but again I didn't feel the pain. So I am now immune to needles.
Once Sara had me hooked again, we had one last round of sex and stimulation before we all turned in. Sparky had decided to join me at his place near my feet. For that's where I had found him when I woke, hearing a noise that sounded angry coming down the hall, and it sounded like Mom and Dad arguing about Dr. Sar's methods.
It was none of my business as the arguing soon stopped when I overheard Dad telling Dr. Sar's that they both belonged down in the cellar. Not up here with us, she yelled back. "We will discuss this in the morning, Mr. and Mrs. Rothwell. It has been a long day for all of us and I expect many more. Good night."
I heard the door slam shut and ours open, seeing Mom and Dad coming in to check on me. Mom quickly took my stats even though Sara had done so earlier. She smiled, seeing they were practically normal. She and Dad kissed me good night and left the room, hearing Dad say. "I told you he would be just fine." Another door closed and then there was complete silence.
It was almost nine in the morning when we woke, or I should say, when I woke to notice everyone had left the room, including Sparky. I didn't complain, considering it was the best night's sleep I have had in a very long time. Sara and Mom came to get me, and Sara took my stats and changed the I.V. bag and the medicine that was removing the poison.
Like every morning, they wanted to see how far I could go before I needed assistance. Today I made it nearly to the bathroom on my own, which was a big improvement. They let me do my business only checking to make sure I hadn't fallen. While Mom picked out the clothes, she wanted me to wear. She had chosen the gray scrubs without a T-shirt and a nice pair of warm socks. She really likes the doctor's scrubs because they were easy to put on and take off, for both of us, being light yet durable, but most of all comfortable. She didn't ask if I wanted to walk to the breakfast table, instead; she insisted that I was riding in the wheelchair as Sara placed my I.V. friend behind my wheelchair, and I was fine with that. Once at the table, the first thing I noticed was that Shawn and Arthur were present, wearing their specially made jumpsuits.
These had no sides or sleeves, just snaps at the top along the shoulders so all a person had to do was unsnap them and they would be shirtless and if they chose to stand up, they would easily fall to their ankles. I also noticed that the crotch area had been specially designed like the top as snaps outlined a square pattern, only just enough so when they were undone the fabric would hang down exposing the crotch and their penis which at the moment was standing hard and proud. It's not nice to look at another man's penis unless they were given permission to do a lot more than look. So, I turned my eyes elsewhere like to my own breakfast.
I quickly noticed that our silverware gleamed in the soft candlelight, the weight of the solid metal utensils reassuring my hands. In contrast, their plastic cutlery seemed cheap and disposable. The sound of clinking silverware against porcelain plates echoed throughout the room, a symphony of elegance.
My eyes shifted towards their heads; their hair shaved so close to their scalps that it almost glistened in the dimly lit room. The scent of freshly cut hair lingered in the air, a reminder of their transformation. I couldn't help but wonder if their close-cropped hair made it harder for them to hide anything, like the bobby pins they had used the night before.
As my gaze wandered, I couldn't help but notice Shawn's fingers, wrapped in bandages, a visible reminder of his recent injuries. The texture of the bandages, rough against his skin, must have served as a constant reminder of the pain he endured. Yet, I couldn't find it in myself to feel sympathy, considering the harm he had caused.
Shawn's eyes met mine, filled with a burning hatred that sent shivers down my spine. The intensity of his gaze seemed to pierce through me, a silent declaration of animosity. Beside him, Dr. Sar's presence was palpable, her smile radiating warmth as she engaged in a lively discussion with my parents. The sound of their voices mingled with the clinking of silverware, a harmonious blend of conversation and dining.
Dr. Sar's words reached my ears, her voice soothing yet determined. She spoke of a treatment plan that involved Shawn and Arthur actively participating, not being locked away. The scent of hope filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of the meal. My mother's agreement resonated with conviction, while my father's dissent was evident in his furrowed brow.
Dr. Sar's next request hung in the air, a plea for my parents to embrace their roles as loving parents once again, to cease the alienation that had been their default. The weight of my grandmother's wisdom, captured in her quote, settled upon the room. It was as if the scent of honey and vinegar intermingled, a reminder of the choices that lay before my parents.Dad didn't agree like the rest of us, feeling they needed to be punished for what they had done. Dr. Sar's said. "Punished, yes, but punishment has a limit. Once you have crossed that boundary, the punishment becomes meaningless, stating I might as well do it anyway if I am still going to be punished, regardless." Dad was speechless and so was I because. It sounded like something I had done regarding my actions and behavior at school and at home. I couldn't find fault for that reason, but neither could I forgive Shawn and Arthur for what they had done. Like trust, forgiveness must be earned.
Dr. Sar's understood that said she was not condoning their actions, she just asking to approach the problem from a different angle. Dad nodded. "We will try it your way for now." She nodded and handed him a bracelet and one to Mom as well. Explaining how they work. She made Shawn walk to the entryway, hearing the alarm go off as she waved her bracelet in front of it stopped, as they saw that Shawn was unable to move, not even crawling as he was pinned in place on his stomach spread eagle.
She released him, telling him. "Every doorway in the house has been programmed the same way. Every cupboard, drawer, every knife, and sharp object in the kitchen and throughout the house has been fitted with a chip, causing them to drop the item or prevent them from touching it. Causing pain, and will keep increasing until they drop it, or step away. I have given them their freedom to walk the house, but no more than that, and certainly not without supervision. If they try to go out of bounds within their approximate area, their restraints will automatically bind them, preventing them from moving, and will alert the user that their charges have gone outside of their boundaries.
"They cannot free themselves; in any way, they can't damage the devices. They are made of hardened metal, they are seamless. They are waterproof as these boys learned last night." She asks. "Do you have any questions?"
Mom and Dad shook their heads. Dad said, "Not for now, anyway."
She nodded, then said. "I must check on my guests that I have invited to help me and many more of the details we will discuss at my convenience." She got up from the table, grabbed a jacket, and walked out the door.