by Mark Roeder
Brian pushed me toward an open door.
“This is it, get in there you little pillow biter.”
I could feel a draft as Brian pulled on a sting at the back of my gown. I
could feel him staring at my bare ass. I wanted to slug him, but I didn’t dare. I’d been working on my “good boy” reputation so I could move about Cloverdale freely. It wasn’t easy to be passive when I really wanted to tear the whole fucking place apart.
I stepped into an office and there was an elderly man sitting there. I hadn’t seen him before. He gestured to a leather chair across from him and I sat down, I inhaled sharply as the cold leather touched my naked skin where my gown was open in the back. Brian smirked at me as he leaned against the wall and watched.
For a few moments, the doctor just sat there looking at me. I looked back at him, and at his diploma hanging on the wall. He’d graduated from some school in the Cayman Islands. It figured. I knew no real psychiatrist would be working in a place like Cloverdale.
“Brendan, I’m Dr. Starke,” he said, looking through my file. “It looks like you’ve been cooperative so far, that’s a good sign, a sign you are willing to change. You’d be surprised at how many of the boys here are not.”
“I’ve seen how they act,” I said. It wasn’t what I wanted to say at all, but if I spoke my mind I’d probably end up strapped to my bed.
“Do you know what this is?” he said, indicating a machine with a lot of wires coming out of it and a graph that looked like some kind of earthquake detector.
“No sir.”
“It’s a lie detector. Honesty is very important if you’re to get well. I’m going to hook you up to the machine and then ask you a few questions.”
I looked at the detector apprehensively.
“Don’t worry, it is quite painless.”
Pain wasn’t exactly what I was worried about, although the thought that it might hurt had crossed my mind as well.
“Please pull the top of your gown down,” said Dr. Starke.
I untied the bow at the back of my neck and pulled my gown down. I shivered as the cold air hit my bare chest. I felt awkward sitting there practically naked.
Dr. Starke taped sensors to my head and various parts of my upper body. They were cold at first, but they didn’t hurt. I still flinched when he turned the detector on.
“First some simple questions,” said Dr. Starke. “What is your name?”
“Brendan.”
“Very good.”
“How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
“Now, I want you to lie on this question. What year were you born?”
“1970.”
“Excellent, now we can get down to business.”
“Are you a homosexual?”
“Yes.”
“Are you a virgin?”
“No.”
“Have you preformed oral sex?”
The questions were becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Dr. Starke was asking things that were none of his business. I thought about telling him so, but I had to maintain the farce of cooperation.
“Yes.”
“Have you preformed anal sex?”
“No.”
He kept asking question after question, each one more intimate than the one before. Brian was all ears. I’m sure he loved every second of my session. He was discovering just the kind of things he wanted to know. I bet he would have paid big to be in on my session. I hated it that he was there; it made it much more difficult. He kept leering at me and boring into me with his eyes. I felt naked before him. My face was getting hot and red with embarrassment.
“Do you hope that our sessions here will cure you of your homosexuality?”
I hesitated. I didn’t hope that at all, but I couldn’t say that to Dr. Starke. The lie detector would tell him if I didn’t tell the truth, however.
“Yes,” I said and swallowed hard. Dr. Starke looked at the readout.
“That isn’t true, is it, Brendan?”
“No sir.”
“So you have no desire to be cured?”
He was pinning me down and I didn’t like it. He was going to ruin everything.
“It’s just that I don’t think it is possible to be cured, sir. I don’t think it’s a disease. To cure me, you’d have to alter my genes.”
It wasn’t really an answer to his question, but I think I surprised him.
“I see.”
There were more questions and I was sweating it. Dr. Starke was finding out a lot more than I wanted him to know. I was half afraid he’d tell Brian to strap me into my bed when he took me back. Dr. Starke didn’t look happy with me at all as he pulled the sensors off, but he didn’t say anything to me about it.
“Escort Brendan back to his room,” said Dr. Starke.
Brian pulled me out of the chair before I even had time to pull my gown up. It slipped and I was standing there naked for a few moments before I got it back on. Brian took the opportunity to enjoy the view. He leered and smirked at me. I hated him. He made me walk in front him. I did my best to keep my gown closed but my ass was still showing. I’m sure Brian loved that.
“That guy gives me the creeps,” I said to Chad, as soon as Brian was gone.
“Yeah, he’s a dangerous one, dude. I’ve heard some rumors that he…well; you don’t need to hear about that. The less you know the better.” I wasn’t sure about that. What was going through my mind was probably worse than reality.
I almost asked how they could have someone like that working at Cloverdale, but considering what was done at the center, it was a stupid question.
“You know the orderly with the black hair, Tracy?”
“Yeah.”
“Well you should hear what he’s done with some of the girls. It’s sick dude.”
“I don’t want to hear about it,” I said.
* * * I sat my tray down beside Chad and Ian in the lunch room. It was a whole different world from high school. Instead of being surrounded by team-mates and friends, I was surrounded by other boys and girls who had been cruelly committed to Cloverdale. There was an overall sense of fear in the air that I understood only too well. No one had rights in Cloverdale. There was no knowing when someone would come to take you away, or jab a needle in your arm. I tensed every time someone in white walked near. Some of the kids did a lot more than that. I’d seen some of them flinch as if they were expecting to be stuck whenever an orderly got close.
I forced myself to eat the bland food they gave us. I always thought the food at school was bad, but it was fantastic compared to what we got in the Cloverdale Center. I ate it to keep my strength up. I knew I’d need it to get out of that place.
Ian suddenly ducked down and hid between Chad and I. “Trolls,” he whispered hoarsely. He was actually shaking. Chad and I put our hands on him to comfort him.
“It’s okay, dude,” said Chad, “they can’t see you. Just stay down for a minute. We’ll tell you when they’re gone.”
Ian was so pitiful. It infuriated me when I thought about what they’d done to him in there. In an effort to force him into being straight, they’d fucked up his brain with drugs so bad he’d probably never be okay. Seeing him scared me too. He was way too much like me. I knew that I could easily end up like him if I wasn’t very careful. I was able to avoid taking most of the drugs they pushed at me, but there was no way to avoid the injections. There was nothing to stop them from messing up my brain with drugs like they’d done to Ian.
“Okay, they’re gone.” I told Ian.
He lifted his head cautiously and looked around. He went back to eating, playing with his food like a six year old. A tear rolled down my cheek for Ian. It was a tear for me too, and for everyone stuck in that horrible place. I missed Casper, and Brad, and the all the others so bad I felt like bawling right there.
“Trolls! Trolls!” said Ian, and ducked his head again.
“Here, dude, take this,” said Chad, slipping Ian a pill.
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“What’s this?”
“It’s a pill. It’s magic. You take that and the trolls can’t see you, makes you invisible to trolls, dude.”
Ian looked at Chad like he thought Chad was a fruitcake. It would have been funny in another situation. “I’m serious, dude. Brendan and I both took one and now the trolls can’t see us. Brendan, stick your tongue out at that big one over there.”
“No don’t!” Ian nearly screamed.
I stuck my tongue out at an imaginary troll. Ian trembled with fear.
“See, dude. It works. They can’t see you. Swallow it.”
Ian did as he was told. I wondered what Chad was really giving him. He seemed to have every kind of drug known to man.
“See, it’s working already. They can’t see you dude. Now you don’t have to worry. Just one of those pills will keep you invisible forever.”
Ian smiled slyly, content to be safe from the trolls. I wished we could keep him safe from the real horrors of Cloverdale so easily. It’s too bad there wasn’t a pill that could keep the staff away.
* * * I had a session with Dr. Starke, or some psychiatrist or other, every single day. I was asked so many questions my brain was numb. The psychiatric sessions weren’t nearly the worst of it, however. On what would hopefully be my last full day in the center, I was awakened early by Brian and another orderly and taken to a sterile looking room with a steel examination table in the exact middle. I felt like I was in some kind of concentration camp or something.
The orderlies stripped me naked, their hands wandering about my body. Brian’s touch lingered, he touched me in private places like I was his to do with as he pleased. It struck terror into my heart when I realized that I really was his to do with as he pleased. Brian leered at me as he touched me, making me feel as if I was some boy he’d lured into his car with candy. I knew about some of the horrible things that happened to kids in the center. I was glad I’d be getting out of there soon. From the look in Brian’s eyes, I had a feeling that something very horrible would be happening to me soon. If I stayed in the center much longer, he’d get me. The orderlies strapped me down to the table so I couldn’t move. The metal was icy cold on my naked backside.
A doctor I’d never seen before, and a nurse, entered the room. The nurse shot something in my arm that made me feel like I was dead. The doctor and nurse put on plastic gloves and started prodding my body all over. I felt so vulnerable lying on that table, naked and unable to move. The orderlies watched as the doctor and nurse touched me in places that no one ever had before, determining if I had been sexually active or not. I’d never felt so violated in my entire life. My privacy meant nothing to them. They prodded and touched me like I was some kind of specimen and not a human being. I was more than half afraid that they were going to operate on me or something.
When they were finished, I was taken into another room and strapped into a chair, still naked. The nurse put a little ring around my penis. It was humiliating to have her touch me there. The ring had wires that led from it to some kind of machine. I was terrified. Chad had never told me about the “ring,” but he’d spoken with a shudder when he’d mentioned it.
“We will do a few test slides first,” said the doctor. I didn’t know what that meant until the nurse dimmed the lights and pictures began to appear on a screen in front of me. There were slides of trees and flowers and puppies at first, but then there were slides of naked women.
“No reaction,” said the nurse, looking at some kind of readout on the machine.
The next slides were of naked men, most of them real hunks. I started to get excited.
“Definite reaction to slides of nude males,” said the nurse with a disapproving tone in her voice.
“Begin the correction procedure,” said the doctor.
More slides appeared on the screen, of all kinds of things. A slide of a really gorgeous blond boy appeared. I yelped. The ring gave me a painful shock. Painful doesn’t even really begin to describe it. It was excruciating. It was a hundred times worse than the time I’d accidentally been kicked full force in the nuts during football practice one day.
The next couple of slides were of animals and then there was one of a cute shirtless wrestler about my age. I cried out in pain as another shock was delivered.
“Whenever you begin to get an erection,” explained the doctor, “you will feel a painful shock. In time, this negative stimulus will alter your inappropriate reaction to the stimulus of a nude male body.”
He made it sound so clinical, so logical. It was neither. It was nothing less than torture. They were trying to torture me into being straight. Every few seconds I felt the excruciating pain assault my manhood. I was afraid there would be permanent damage. No one there cared for my welfare. All they cared about was changing me so that I wouldn’t be attracted to boys. I tried not to cry out with pain, but I couldn’t help it. It was just too intense. Tears flowed from my eyes.
“Please stop,” I said. The doctor didn’t answer. I received another shock that made me writhe on the chair. “Pleeaaaase stop,” I begged him. The pain was too intense. I couldn’t take it. I felt humiliated for doing so, but I kept begging the doctor to stop.
“I’m sorry, Brendan, but this is a necessary part of your treatment. If you cooperate with your psychiatrist more fully, we’ll be able cure you faster, and there will be less pain.”
I knew he wasn’t sorry at all. I was sure he liked dealing out pain to boys. He was some kind of sadist or something. I felt as if I were being blackmailed too. What he was really saying was “Do what we want and we’ll stop hurting you.” I hated him. I hated the whole Cloverdale Center and all the doctors and nurses in it. They were worse than monsters.
After what seemed an eternity, the ring was removed and I was unstrapped. Brian threw my hospital gown at me.
“We’re scheduling you for another session next week,” said the doctor as I departed. With any luck, I wouldn’t be there to re-enter his chamber of horrors.
The orderlies led me back to my room, making jokes at my expense about fried wieners. I didn’t think it was very damned funny. I was still in pain and could barely walk. I wondered about Brad’s cousin, Jason. How could he work in such a place? I tried not to judge him harshly. He was helping Chad and me out after all.
The orderlies pushed me onto my bed and left me there, doubled over from the pain. Brian gave me a slap on the ass and said “I’ll be seeing you later, queer boy” so that only I could hear. His voice struck terror into my soul.
Chad hopped up as soon as they left. He grabbed a cup of water and pulled a pill out of his collection that he kept secreted away. He handed it to me.
“This will help ease the pain,” he said. I downed it without comment. I trusted Chad completely.
Within a few minutes the pain eased enough that I could lie back on the bed. Chad sat on the side of the bed and brushed the hair out of my eyes. My eyes were still filled with tears. It wasn’t just the pain either. I felt humiliated.
“Had a session with the ring huh?” he said.
“Yeah.” I was still shaky. The experience had left me frightened and insecure. I felt like I wanted to cry. I wanted to be brave and defiant, but I lay there in fear, terrified that they’d come back for me.
“It was horrible,” I said, looking at Chad, my eyes wide with fear. “I felt like I was being interrogated or something. It was like they were torturing me for information, but they never asked any questions.” I was really upset. I didn’t understand how anyone could do that to another person.
Someone passed in the hall. I jerked my head in the direction of the door and tried to sit up. I thought they were coming for me. I thought they were going to take me back to that room and strap me in that chair again. I was ready to fight anyone who came through that door, but no one came. Chad put his hand on my chest and pushed me back down.
“Take it easy, dude. Man, your heart’s beating a mile a minute. Hey, look at me.”
My eyes were darting around the room. I was breathing hard and my chest felt tight. I was pretty sure I was having a panic attack, even though I didn’t really know what one was.
“Look at me, Brendan,” said Chad, taking my head in his hands and gently forcing me to look at him. My eyes met his. Chad had that doped up look he always did, but I read sympathy and friendship there too. “Calm down, dude. It’s over. They won’t give you another session with the ring for at least a week. We’ll be long gone by then, dude. You won’t have to do it again. Understand?”
I nodded my head. I was still very frightened, but he was right. In just over a day, we’d be gone, if we were successful that is. I was more determined than ever to get out of that place.
“How many times…” I asked.
“They’ve done it to me four times,” said Chad quietly. I pitied him. I pitied anyone who had to experience that. It was like something out of a mad scientist movie. It was so horrible that I almost couldn’t believe it was true. The pain in my groin was a reminder that it was all too real. I was angry. This is what so called “normal people” did to boys who they labeled as “queer.” We were tortured just because we loved someone of our own sex. It made me ashamed of the society I lived in. I wouldn’t have wished what I’d gone through on the worst criminal, and yet it was done every day to innocent boys.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” I said. “I can’t take this. I always thought I was strong, but I can’t take this.”
“Dude, don’t let them get to you. Don’t get down on yourself. You are strong. What you’ve been through would shake up anybody. We’re getting out of here. You won’t have to face it again.”
“I wish we could take them all with us,” I said, thinking of all the other boys in that place, and girls too.
“I know, dude, but we can’t. There’s just no way. Someday they’ll shut this fucking place down. Someday people will wake up and see what they’ve done here, and then they’ll shut it down.”