A Committed Boy

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.

*****

FOREWORD

Thanks to Electricblue66 for allowing me to quote part of his unpublished manuscript [currently untitled], which Dane reads to Kian in the hospital.

Thanks also to all the authors on this site whose work's inspired me to write in this genre. I'm a big fan.

The story [spoilers]:

Suffering from anxiety and depression, nineteen year old Dane voluntarily commits himself to a private mental health facility. There, he meets a pretty femboy, who may be a hallucination... or something else entirely.

I consider it to be, primarily, a dark fantasy love story.

Everyone depicted in this story is over eighteen.

Tags: #gay male, #sex slave, #authoritarian, #erotic horror, #non-consent, #reluctance, #romance, #first time, #femboi, #bdsm, #trap, #dark erotica, #fantasy

Author's Note

This story was written while I was, I guess it's best described as, 'not entirely with it'. It's novella length at 44,000 words, and rates as about a 7/10 for darkness, and 8/10 for 'suspend your disbelief'.

This has now had a 'typos' edit since first publishing, which hopefully makes it tidier, and easier to read.

Kind thanks to AwkwardMD, Holliday1960, Etaski and ElectricBlue66 for beta reading and providing feedback. I appreciate the time you all put into helping me with this.

Please note, due to the length of this story, it was unrealistic to expect a volunteer to edit it for me, although AwkwardMD and others made some very valid suggestions which I took on board as best I could.

** Last edited 20th May to fix typos **

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Day 1 - Monday.

"Come in, come in."

Dane, backpack on his shoulder, pushed open the door to the doctor's office. He froze as he took in the scene.

Highfield Sanctuary's Chief of Staff, Doctor Albert Blent, sat reclined back in his armchair, his legs spread wide, while a young guy who looked the same age as Dane serviced the man's cock.

"Can you shut the door, please?" said Dr Blent.

Dane just gaped.

The young man between the doctor's legs didn't pause, the wet sounds of his mouth loud as he worked the doctor's pole in the otherwise quiet office.

"Dane?"

Dane jumped at the sound of the man's voice.

"Nope," he muttered. "Fuck this."

He turned on his heel and walked quickly back down the corridor.

"Dane! Come back here!" There was a muffled,

"Goddamnit it, Kian!"

, and then heavy footsteps as the man came after him.

Dane thought he heard a zip being pulled up and walked faster. By the time he'd made his way through the maze of corridors to reception, he'd broken into a sweat. He glanced towards the locked glass door that led to the outside world and leaned over the counter to talk to the receptionist.

"Can you unlock the door? Please?"

The woman behind the curved counter frowned at him. "I just signed you in, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but I changed my mind."

"Don't open that door!"

Dane glanced up as Blent thundered towards him.

The doctor, a grey-haired, angry-eyed giant who towered over Dane, joined him at the counter.

"You've signed the paperwork." He sounded exasperated. He turned to the woman behind the counter. "Make a note that I'll sign him out myself at the end of his stay. If he tries to leave again, please call my office."

"I've realised I don't need to be here," said Dane. "I made a mistake. I just want to go home."

Blent gave him a kind smile. "It's perfectly all right to be nervous. It's a big step, committing yourself to an institution. It shows tremendous courage. But you can do this. Have faith in yourself." He put a hand on Dane's back to propel him down the corridor towards his office, but Dane shrugged away from him.

"Honestly, I'm okay." Dane backed towards the electronically-locked sliding door. "I'm voluntary, so... you have to let me go, if I want to go, right?"

"Well, unfortunately,

Dane

, when a patient wishes to leave before their treatment programme's complete, we're required by law to do an assessment to ensure they're not a danger to themselves or others before we discharge them."

Dane continued to back up towards the doors.

The doctor stopped his advance and held up his hands. "Dane. There's no need to be afraid. No one's threatening you."

Dane jumped as his backpack bumped against the sliding door. He turned to the glass and gazed out into the parking lot. The door remained firmly locked, the carpark—and his freedom—out of reach.

A hand landed on his shoulder, Blent's fingers digging into his flesh as the doctor turned the younger man back to face him.

"Get the fuck off me!" Dane said, then instantly shrank back from the doctor's disapproving glare as he realised what he'd said. "Don't touch me. Please. I don't like to be touched."

"I'm sorry, Dane, I don't have time for this." Blent's voice held irritation. "I have two more patients to see this morning. If we don't get started, it'll be tomorrow before I have time to discuss your programme with you."

"Don't worry about it... let's just pretend I never signed in. Can you please ask the lady to open the door?"

"I'm sorry, Dane, I'm afraid I can't do that. Not until I've assessed you."

For a moment they stared at each other, then Blent caught Dane's wrist and turned it to expose the underside, where a livid scar ran alongside the shadow of his tendons.

Dane hyperventilated as he tried to pull away, but Blent held him fast and spoke quietly.

"You're here for a reason. Don't you want to get better? To get on with your life? Don't you want to be happy?"

"Please, let me go." Tears stung his eyes as Dane struggled to breathe.

Blent let go of the younger man's arm and turned to the receptionist. "Make a note, this boy's threatening to harm himself."

"What? No, I'm not!"

"It's very clear to me that you're not in the best state of mind. I won't be responsible for you hurting yourself."

Dane stared at him, shaking, tears rolling down his face. It was too much. Too much. He couldn't do this.

He glanced towards the counter. The doctor followed his gaze, but was too late to stop him as the younger man made a dash for the reception counter, reaching for the red button that controlled the door. But as his fingers brushed the edge of it, Blent caught the back of his hoodie and jerked him back.

He landed on his arse on the floor, his pack knocked from his shoulder.

As he glared up at the doctor, Blent folded his arms and waited, daring him, it seemed to Dane, to defy him again.

"How old are you, Dane?"

"Nineteen." Dane couldn't keep the sullenness out of his voice.

"Nineteen, and behaving like a child," the doctor said coldly. "Most people who come here are grateful for my help. You were boosted to the top of a six-month waiting list because your parents begged me to take you before their insurance policy no longer covered you. Yet here you are, behaving like a spoiled brat. Now get up, and start behaving like an adult."

His face burning with shame, Dane got to his feet and collected his pack. He twitched as the doctor placed a hand on his shoulder, squirming inside. But he didn't try to pull away.

"What do you say, Dane?" said Blent. "Shall we try this again?"

"I'm pretty sure you're not allowed to hit me," said Dane, his eyes on the floor.

Blent looked exasperated. "No one

hit

you. Everything's on security camera, and can be requested as evidence, if it comes to that. Act your age, and we won't need to physically manage you. Try that stunt again, and I'll call for the techs to restrain you. Do you understand?"

Restrain him. Dane knew what that meant. He'd read the caveat in the brochure when his parents had presented it to him.

If necessary, physical, or chemical restraint may be used to manage violent or disruptive behaviour that poses a threat to either the patients or staff.

In other words, he'd be strapped to a bed or injected with a sedative. Possibly both.

Tears of frustration pricked his eyes, but there was nothing he could do. He nodded.

"Let me hear it, please."

Dane looked up at him, his eyes red-rimmed. Was the doctor seriously going to make him say it back to him?

Blent raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, I understand," said Dane, feeling completely humiliated.

"Good man. Now, let's go to my office and have a chat about why you're here."

Dane glanced back over his shoulder as Blent marched him from reception, losing his last glimpse of freedom as they rounded the corner back into the beige maze of corridors that was Highfield Sanctuary.

*

The young guy who'd been sucking Blent off was leaning against the wall as the doctor guided Dane back into his office. He watched with disinterest as the doctor pushed Dane into a chair, then sat himself.

As the doctor took a seat in a leather chair in front of his desk, the other boy knelt beside the doctor's chair, resting his hands on his thighs. He looked bored out of his mind. Maybe he was pissed off that Dane had interrupted his blowjob.

"So, do you want to explain the sudden change of heart?" Blent asked.

Dane tried to swallow but his mouth was dry. He set his pack on the floor at his feet and stared at the young man kneeling at the doctor's side.

"I didn't expect to find you being..." he trailed off as the other boy gave him an arrogant stare, daring him to put what he'd seen into words.

"Being what?" asked Blent.

Dane moved his gaze to the doctor's face. "Being sucked off."

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry?"

Dane nodded towards the bored looking teenager. "Him. Sucking you off."

"Who, Dane?"

Dane frowned. "Are you serious?"

"Quite serious. Who are you referring to? Can you see someone in this room with us?"

"Noo way," said Dane. "No way are you telling me he's not there."

The other boy smiled, amused.

"Interesting," said Blent. He pressed his fingertips together and gazed at Dane. "Has this happened to you before?"

Dane frowned. "What?"

"Have you had hallucinations before?"

"Aaaah, no?"

Blent inclined his head. "Really? I read your notes this morning. I gather you're here because you're troubled by obsessive thoughts about having sex with other men."

Dane's eyes widened. "Well... yes, but I haven't been hallucinating. Are you saying I'm imagining him?" he gestured towards the other boy. "He's right there!"

"Tell me," said Blent calmly. "Tell me what you see."

Dane ran his gaze over the other boy, trying to decide how to describe him. He was built small and slim; maybe five seven, five eight. His dark hair was long and messy, and his eyes were a distinctive blue-green framed by thick, dark eyelashes. A narrow chin and smooth skin made his face look pretty, rather than handsome.

As Dane watched, the other boy's lips parted, and he ran his tongue along the upper edge of his teeth. Dane was consumed by an image in his mind's eye of those full lips parting to slide over the doctor's member.

"He's short, about my age. Dressed in like, a men's shirt and just his pants."

The other boy raised an eyebrow.

"—And you called him 'Kian'."

"Keen?"

"Kee-in."

"I see. Does he remind you of anyone you know?" Blent asked.

Dane gave the boy another long look, and an uncomfortable prickle ran down his spine. Maybe the guy did look something his favourite gay porn star. They both had dark hair, they were both skinny, and quite feminine-looking. What some might call a 'trap'.

"Not really," he said aloud, although he knew he wasn't fooling anyone.

The boy smirked.

"Does he perhaps look the way you'd like to look?" Blent asked.

"Not so much."

If anything, Dane wanted to be more ripped. No, he looked like someone Dane wanted to fuck.

The doctor pulled a pen from his shirt pocket and reached across his desk to fetch a notebook. He opened it flat in his lap and rested his pen against the blank page.

"Let's leave this boy to one side for now. Why don't you tell me, in your own words, why you're here?"

Dane shook his head. Was he supposed to ignore the fact that he was hallucinating right now?

"Dane? I need you to concentrate. You may think thirty days is a long time, but given your issues appear to be more severe than your doctor's notes indicated, we have a lot to cover in that time. I need you to trust me. I need you to listen to me. Can you do that?"

"I'm trying."

"Why don't you start by telling me a bit about yourself, and then about the thoughts that have brought you here."

Dane tried to keep his eyes off the boy kneeling on the floor, tried not to think about him wetting the doctor's cock with his mouth. Was it cut? He was betting the doctor's cock was cut, like his was. He wondered how big it was.

"Dane?"

He snapped out of his reverie and pushed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, pulling it low into his lap to hide his erection. His right hand closed into a fist in his empty pocket, missing the comforting rectangle of his phone. Why had he come here? And what kind of madness had convinced him to hand his phone into reception when he'd signed in? He was trapped. Completely cut off.

Blent gave him a kind smile. "You can talk to me. Anything you say will stay within these walls. Nothing will be passed back to your parents, if that's your concern."

Dane's brow furrowed as he looked from Blent's face to the bored youth sitting at the man's right side.

"I can't with him staring at me," he said.

Blent glanced up at a clock on the wall. "Well, I have another admission in ten minutes, so we'll have to leave it there for today. The first thing I'll do is put you on an initial course of antipsychotics, and we'll see if we can get these hallucinations under control. We can come back to this conversation tomorrow. How does that sound?"

"Thanks." Dane felt ashamed that he'd caused so much trouble. The doctor was just trying to help him.

The doctor scrawled something in his notebook then took off his glasses. He got to his feet and Dane got to his. "Head back to reception and they'll send someone with you to help you get settled into your room."

As Dane turned to open the door, Blent called to him, "And remember, these things you're seeing, they're not real. Try not to let them upset you."

Sure,

thought Dane.

I mean, what's upsetting about hallucinating a guy my age sucking off a fifty-year-old man in a mental hospital?

He shook his head at himself and made his way back to reception to begin his thirty days under the care of Doctor Albert Blent.

* Dane's room had a narrow box bed with a six-inch foam mattress on top, an open wardrobe, and a bathroom with no door. There were no cameras in the room, due to privacy laws, but the door to the corridor couldn't be locked from the inside.

A lank-haired tech in his twenties, dressed in maroon scrubs that had the Highfield Sanctuary logo embroidered on the chest, settled him in, then told him he'd come back shortly with his medication.

Dane sat on the bed and looked around, cataloguing his surroundings. There wasn't much to catalogue. A small writing desk, with a bathrobe and a pair of pale blue pyjamas folded on the chair, an empty book shelf, and a low nightstand with an LED bedside lamp. Next to the lamp was a brochure with a maroon cover, titled 'Welcome to Highfield Sanctuary'.

He picked up the leaflet and thumbed through it. It had a map of the hospital, a list of group activities he was supposed to attend, and finished by assuring him he'd be treated with the 'utmost respect and dignity'. There was nothing about doctors throwing him on the floor, and they'd left out the part about being restrained if he pissed off the head doctor.

He lay back on the bed with a frustrated sigh. There was no TV in his room, and he didn't have his phone. What was he supposed to do all day? The group activities looked cringe-worthy, and while there was a library, he didn't think he could force himself to concentrate long enough to read a book.

You checked in here. This is what happens when you're a mental.

He gave another heavy sigh.

Fuck my life.

There was a soft knock at the door, and he shifted his head off the pillow to see who it was.

"Yeah?"

It was the guy from that morning; from Doctor Blent's office. Dane sat up and watched him warily as he came into the room. The dark-haired boy was still dressed in nothing but a men's oversized shirt and a pair of briefs. He put a finger to his lips as he stalked towards the bed.

The door opened again as the tech came back with Dane's medication, and Kian moved to sit on the end of the bed as the tech approached Dane.

"Hey mate." The tech was doing his best to be chummy. "I've got some meds here for you."

Dane slid to the edge of the bed, and held out his hands for the paper cup of water and the little paper cup of pills.

"Nice. Special K," said Kian. He climbed onto the bed behind Dane, and lay on his stomach, his chin propped in his hands.

"Right," said the tech, "The doc's put you on a hundred and fifty milligrams of Clozapine to start with."

"It's Ketamine," said the boy on the bed.

"Seriously, Ketamine?" asked Dane. He looked down at the pills in the cup.

"What?" the tech looked confused. "No, I said,

Clozapine

."

Dane stared at the pills in the cup.

"Clozapine's green," said Kian. "Are those tablets green? No. It's Ketamine."

"I need to make sure you take them," said the tech, ignoring the other boy completely.

Dane glanced back at the boy on the bed, then back at the pills. The two tablets jumped around in the little paper cup as his hands shook. Well, his hallucinations weren't going anywhere unless he did this. He tossed the pills into his mouth, then downed them with a mouthful of water.

Once he'd finished the rest of the water, he handed the paper cups back to the tech.

"Right. I'll come and check on you in fifteen minutes to see how you're doing. I suggest you lie down. You're going to feel drowsy until you get used to the Clozapine—"

"—Ketamine," Kian said over the top of him. He rolled onto his back and put an elbow under his head.

The tech stood there until Dane felt obliged to do as he said. He kicked his shoes off, and the other boy turned around and moved closer to the wall to make space for him as he stretched out on the bed.

Satisfied, the tech left him alone.

Dane lay on his back, and tried to ignore Kian's heat against his side, the whisper of his breath against his cheek.

He closed his eyes and tried to relax, but as he grew drowsy, the other boy began to stroke his fingers against his chest.

"I am real, you know."

His eyes still closed, Dane muttered, "No, you're not."

"I am!" There was petulance in the other boy's voice.

Dane opened his eyes. Kian's face was inches from his, his blue-green eyes framed by his thick, black eyelashes. He smiled and leaned in to press his lips against Dane's. His mouth was soft, and he caught Dane's lower lip between his teeth, nibbling and teasing, inviting Dane to kiss him back.

Dane's semi swelled into a solid hardness as he returned the kiss, softly at first, and then lost in hunger as Kian's tongue slipped into his mouth. He caught a taste of something unfamiliar and thought,

Is that what Dr Blent's cum tastes like?

It was like nothing he'd ever tasted before. Not unpleasant. Oddly arousing.

Even when you hallucinate, the taste of cum turns you on. There really is no hope for you.

If Blent was going to cure him of his perverted thoughts, it was going to take a lot more than thirty days of Clozapine.

Kian broke the kiss by pressing his lips to Dane's once more, then shifted back a few inches.

Dane found himself staring into the other boy's eyes, mapping the way the colour of his iris radiated from green in the centre to a rich turquoise blue. As the drugs took hold of his system, it seemed to Dane the colours ran together, like clear water rippling over stones in a stream.