The Little Robot
When I was about ten years I saw the movie D.A.R.Y.L., you know, that one about a boy that is really a robot. I liked it very much, and saw it a lot of times. It has a part that particularly called my attention: the scene when the boy is subjected to some kind of computerized medical examination (looked like CAT exams today). The boy, sleeping or unconsciousness, dressing with a examination gown, lie in a metal table, with shackles in his wrists and ankles, and then the exploration device scans his head. We rented the picture in video and I saw that scene several times. I remember specially my feeling of the child being defenseless, put on the table by force and held onto it by the shackles, and then put to sleep.
I liked to imagine that I was that boy and made a story of me hold on an examination table and subjected to several tests designed for robots.
One day, at school, I went with the school’s physician and told her I did need a medical certificate to join a sports program, and wanted “a full exam”. I thought I would have to undress, but I was only required to lay on the examination table with my shirt off but my uniform shorts and socks on. During the exam, I did ask her what she does when she has to examine “reluctant and restless children”. It was true that child were tied? It was true that the table have “a hold system”. She denied she had never tie a single child, and did not know about that system. “But you are not a reluctant one, are you?”
When summer vacation arrived, I decided to have my own “robot examination system”.
My parents wanted to enroll me on a school summer program, but I convinced them to let me stay home. My dad was a supervisor on a factory and sometimes worked more than 12 hours daily, and my mother worked on a bank, so I had the morning free to play.
My “lab” would be the garage. Although we had one, my parents park our cars outside because the garage was full of things: a work table (My examination table), tools, boxes full of old clothes, old furniture, toys, etc.. My dad always wanted to clean it to store the cars there, but every time he decided to clean, when he saw the mess, he decided to delay it. But, for me the place was excellent.
I went to a hardware store and bought four automatic fence latches, the ones that close when the gate strikes the fence. They were costly. After cleaned the table I did climb it and lay on it. With a piece of chalk I traced a line around me. In the points where my ankles and wrists are going to be, I screwed the latches. Three of them were normal, you have to move a knob to open them once they close, so I slightly modified the fourth with a metal strip to prevent this, to let me release myself once I “pass the tests”, and screwed it in the place of my right wrist. I put several pieces of cable on a box. They would be “electrodes” that would monitor the signals inside my body. On the ceiling was a remote-controlled garage door opener that my dad disconnected when the cars had to stay out. With cardboard I made a frame: my “scanner”, mounted it over the bar of the opener, and attached it to the wire line. When operated the opener slides the frame over the table. To finish it, I took a camcorder that my dad had bought about a year ago. He bought, in part, because the salesman of New Age Electronic Store asked him to imagine “the hours of images of your son (me) and his play, delightfully captured forever with this camcorder”. But the best way to make me stay still and without know what to do is that someone point me with a camera or a camcorder. I find it annoy, and when we were on a trip to the beach, forests or a place like those, I asked my dad to “put away the camera so I can have some fun”. And if your have an accident, you will see your images all over America in “The best videos” or “Captured on video”, etc.. The only way the thing can work is with me not knowing the presence of the camera, or when I set it, as I did, of course.
I taped the camcorder in the center of the frame. When I would be “on the test” the camera would be taking me, and it would be seen like in the movie. Then I completed the “laboratory” drawing machines and displays on cardboard. I tested my installation: it worked perfectly. On the video first appeared my feet (I was lying on the table), then my legs, torso and finally my head. When stop my entire body was on focus.
I disassemble my laboratory and hid the parts, because my parents could suspect something: I had noticed that, at least two times, my parents had inspected my room when I was absent. I wondered what they wanted or feared to find.
I did wait several days and on Wednesday decided to play. In the morning, still in my pajamas, I say goodbye to my dad, got milk and some cookies and turned on the T.V. Later my mom made me to recite again the security rules I had to obey, gave me a kiss and went to her job. I did wait a little to be sure they would not return to pick up something or something like that. Then I went to the garage. On the door I wait a little: the floor of garage was bare concrete, cool. I was barefoot and did like to feel that floor in my feet. I did not know why, but I had the idea that it was the feeling of that “something was going to happen.”
I did take my hardware and mounted my machine.
I went to my room and lay on my bed and began to play pretending that I was sleeping and a doctor woke my up. I was a “roboy”, (a robot-boy), and several scientists wanted to examine my “machinery”. I was reluctant because during the exams I had to be tied to the examination table with shackles and during several examinations the scientists had caused my something the humans called “pain”, that caused havoc in my “operating system”. Anyway, I was taken to the laboratory and told to put on a examination gown.
I did not had one, but several days before I bought a XXLARGE t-shirt. So I strip and put on the t-shirt. I turned on the camcorder. Then I began to complain and protest: I did not wanted to be examined, I had fear, but they forced me to go near the table. I began to whimper, when they did order me to climb on the table.
I sat on the table and put my left heel on the latch. With a little pressure it slid on and the latch closed with a metallic sound. That sound gave me a shiver. Then I put my right heel. The same. I did test the latches: cannot move my legs. The release knob worked perfectly. In my play, I began to cry, I really did not want to be examined. I got the electrodes and put the ends inside my t-shirt. I lay and put my right wrist on the latch. It closed. I did test several times to make sure that it opens freely. Then, did put my left wrist on the latch. I cried: I was immobilized and the scientists can do to me whatever they want. I was defenseless.
I took a look at my body: the collar of the t-shirt was too big and one of my nipples was showing, the sleeves covered my arms to my elbows, on my groin area there was a little lump, the shirt covered my thighs to the knees. When I saw my feet and my hands held by the shackles I had a pleasant but strange feeling in my stomach.
I had put the remote control of the door opener next to my hand, so I pressed a button and the “scan” began. I imagine that was on the lab surrounded by scientists that examined me. I began to squirming trying to release me, but failed. During several minutes I did stay daydreaming and then press another button to stop the scan. I released myself, got down of the table, turned off the camcorder and the doctors did let me put on again my pajamas and retire. I went to my room and sleep a little more. Later, did hide again my machine. Then I put the videocassette on our video and with expectation pushed PLAY. It was delightful, I did watch it over and over: a skinny, brown wavy-hair boy wearing only a big t-shirt, crying and looking scared was tied to a table, feet and hands on shackles. He tried to escape and then fell asleep. Finally he was set free. I did hide the videocassette under the floor of my closet and saw it a lot of times. I felt the same as when watched D.A.R.Y.L.: a sense of being defenseless.
Some days later, the novelty has faded. I wanted to play again, but this time decided to be “examined” completely naked. I did set my machine again and did play the same story the last time but now, when taken to the “lab”, I had to strip naked.
When put my right hand on the latch, heard a little “ping”. I saw my hand and froze: the metal strip to prevent the close of the latch jumped out of its place! The latch was positively closed...with my hand there! I squirmed frenetically, skinning my wrists, hoping that one of the shackles got loose, but they were too well screwed. I was breathless, thinking what would happen when my mother or father arrive home. Every time I thought that, I try to escape but was in vain. My wrists began to bleed. Suddenly, I realized that I really was in the position I liked to play: immobilized and defenseless. I got a pleasant feeling all over my body, closed my eyes to enjoy it, even though I knew that afternoon would be full of trouble.
I had to wait a long time. I even slept a little, hoping that I would wake up in my bed, and found that all that was a dream, but it was not that way. I felt ashamed every time I remembered that my parents would find me naked. In the afternoon I heard my mother arrive, and soon, heard she calling me. She opened the door and stared at me. “David, what happen to you?” she heard alarmed and got next to the table.
I planned to tell my parents that “someone” had broken into our house, taken me by surprise and tied me in the table but I realized that when they watch the videocassette they would know what had happened
.“H..Hi, mom. I was playing and had a little accident. I tied myself, by error”. I was trying to look calm and innocent.
“David, what in hell are you doing?” she shouted, touching the latches “How can I loosen this?”
“Just open the knob”.
“But what are you doing, by God?”. She looked really upset. With my hands released I tried to explain it fast. “I was only playing, mom, I was a little robot, the doctors, etc., etc.”. In some seconds I told the complete story.
“A little robot, eh? Well robot”, she said as opened the latches of my legs, “We will fix this. First take this apart”. She took me off the table and let me fall. I hurt my left foot. Although I was naked, she made me dismantle the “machine”. She got more upset when she saw the camcorder.
“Now go to your room immediately! Put on your pajamas and wait for me!”
I did wait in my pajamas. My parents had spanked me several times, and always had ordered me to wear pajamas or thin fabric shorts. “Your jeans are so thick and hard, you would not feel nothing if we spanked you with them on”. My dad spanked me far harder than my mother. I was afraid that my mother let him spank me. My mother came in. He was a slipper on her hand. I hated that slipper and tried to “lose” it several times, but my parents always found it.
“On the bed, face down. Now!”
“Mom, I...”
“Now, David, Now!”
I said, “Mom, let me...”
“Silence, I do not want to hear you now”.
SLAP!. She did hit my buttocks very hard. I did jump. SLAP! SLAP!. I moaned.
The pain felt worse and worse. SLAP!, SLAP!. I begin to cry, and tried to stop my mom’s arm.
“Arms at your sides or under your face David, or it will be worse”
SLAP! SLAP!. “No more mom! Please!” But she did not stop for a while. My face was in tears. I grit my teeth with every strike. I had never feel so much pain; I felt my backside in a burning pain. I can only thought in a very bright light.
“It hurts me a lot!”, I sobbed, later, when she did stop, at last.
“Of course it does. That is why it is a punishment. But it is only the beginning, David, you deserve more punishment”.
“No! No more, mom! Please, no more!”
“You will have, David. You will stay here until I call you tomorrow. Understand?”.
“Will you tell dad?” I sobbed.
“I do not know, it depends in your behavior, but you can be sure that you will have your punishment, David”.
“Please no, mom, I will behave”.
“We will see”, and she went away closing my door.
I cried until I did fall asleep. I was not able to see my buttocks, but I bet they were burning red. I was shaking and afraid that my mother or father came in again to punish me further. During several days I had to sleep face down and had trouble sitting.
I have to spend the next day in a day care center for babies, with a friend of my mother. When I told her I prefer to stay stand, she agree with her head, like if she was saying “A-ha! I knew that!” She did not ask why I was wearing two watches, one in each arm. Next day, my mom took me to the school, enrolled me in the summer program and explained the instructor of my group that I must be not allowed to return home early. I would have to wait until afternoon, and only she or my dad would pick me up.
During those days I was afraid that my mom tell my father about my play, but seemed to be that she never told him about it. However, from wake up until bedtime I had to tell my mom where I was, or stay where she could see me. I was not allowed to play outside with my friends, except if we stay in front of my house. She even told me that was considering taking me with a psychologist, but she never decided.
Several days after, she told me that she was going to take a one-week vacation, and inform my school that I would be absent.
On Monday she went shopping, while I was with a baby sitter, who had instructions not to take her eyes out of me. She came with some boxes and took them to her room. That morning she took me some measures and told me she was going to buy the uniforms for the next school year.
On Tuesday she woke me up right after my dad left.
“Well, little robot” she said, “Wake up. You will be subjected to some examination. Take off your pajamas”.
“Mom...”
“Take off your pajamas. Now.”
“I do not want to...”
“David, I am not asking if you want to, I am ordering you. This is your punishment.” She did look into my eyes, “Or you prefer to be punish by dad?”
When I finished with my pajama, I put a sheet on my lap. She ordered me to lie on my bed, over my left side. “In order to have a good examination you have to be clean. I am going to apply you an enema.”
“Mom! you cannot...” I shouted.
“Sure I can.” she said. She did show me the pink rubber bag, half full with water, and the plastic hose, the end covering with petroleum jelly. She grinned. “And with cold water.... Now, on your side...”
“Mom, please! No!”
I tried to resist, but she threatened me to tie my hands together. She inserted the hose between my buttocks. I felt it in my behind like a big rod. It cannot be. I was not able to stand it. I began to cry.
“Mom, no!” I sobbed.
“It is almost there...” she said.
I almost jumped when I felt the cold water inside me.
“And if you do not retain the water until you get to the bathroom, you will lie in you wet bed. Okay?”
“Ye..yes, mom”
Finally she took out the hose and let me go to the bathroom. I run. I felt like a balloon just about to explode. I sat and let the water out. I cried several minutes. I looked at myself in the mirror: there was a naked, skinny boy, crying and shaking. I was also afraid. That was by far, more punishment than I deserved. I heard my mother calling me. I took a towel, put around my waist and went to my room. My mom made me sit in the bed. “That was not too bad, my little robot, eh? Well, second time. On your side.”
“What? No mom, no more!” I began to cry again.
She stood and locked the door. “Yes dear, one more time”
“No. That is not fair...is...”
“It is very fair, considering you are being punished. Will you lie down or will I have to force you?”.
“You cannot, mom...”
“Yes, I can. You can make it easy or...”
I tried to negotiate, to change the punishment, but I only achieved to delay it.
The second time, my mother put more jelly on the hose, and the water was warmer. But anyhow it was terrible. I was in the bathroom, crying, with an ache in my belly, when my mom knocked on the door. “Hurry up, I am waiting for you”
“You are not to.....?”
“No, not now”
Not now?
When I came into my room, I saw something white over my bed. I thought it was a sheet, but when came closer I realize it was a diaper.
“Mom, are you going to...”
“Yes, my little robot: you are going to have a long examination procedure and you will need it. Take off that towel and spread your feet,” she said.
I lowered my head. I wanted to cry again. That was a cruel punishment.
“You hate me!” I sobbed.
“No, David. I love you. Spread your feet.”
I had to stand naked, with my legs open. My mother took the diaper, put it between my legs, took the front end with her left hand and the back with the right and pulled up. Then she used the adhesive tapes to close it. She adjusted it to my waist, opening and closing the tapes. The diaper was one called “Depend”. Some time ago, one of my friends, got hurt on a bus accident: he broke both his legs. When he got better, his mother invited some of his school friends, including me, to visit him. When we were talking, I see, below the sheets, that he was wearing a diaper. Of course: he was barely able to move! I notice in the closet a box of “Depend”. Then, I knew what my mom have bought that day. The diaper was thick and bulky, but it did feel soft and warm. The upper end was over my belly button. I did feel like if had a piece of cloth between my legs.
“You look cute, David” she gave me some slaps on my bottom. “Now this”.
She showed me a real examination gown, white with blue dots. She took my left arm and put it through the sleeve, then the right, and finally knots, the closing ties at my back.
“Now to the lab, little robot, the doctors are waiting.” She took my arm and dragged me to the garage. In the way there, she take me to the bath so I was able to watch myself: first a boy wearing only a diaper. It did look ridiculous, I did not know if I should laugh or cry. I did feel exactly like a baby: defenseless. Next, a boy wearing an examination gown. It was a short one: it covers only half of my thighs. She hurried me to the “lab”.
“Mom, I was only playing then...”
“But we are not playing anymore. This is a real punishment”.
In the garage the table was ready. She had even set the camcorder ready!.
:”Sit on the table,” she said. She did check if the latches were well screwed. “Put your ankles here”. I put them and heard the metallic sound of the latches. I shivered. “Lay down and put your hands in the shackles, little robot”. I did and began to breath heavily. I did feel like if my worst nightmare had become reality.
“What, are you going to weep again, or you do not want to be examined, little robot?. My mother took the “electrodes” and put them inside the gown. “If this were real, they sure would be working like crazy. Wouldn’t they? Low your head”.
Then she took the two ends of a leather strip that I had not put in there, pushed my head to the table and tie it with the strip, with a knot over my forehead. The strip was solidly nailed to the table. I almost was not able to move my head.
“Well, little robot, your exam begins now.” She turned on the camcorder and went out of the garage. “I am going to turn this camera on when I came her and off when I leave, so we will have all the images we want, eh?”
I was there: diapered, with a examination gown, my feet, hands and head tied to the table, completely immobilized. I squirmed trying to escape. I skinned my ankles and wrists, but in vain: the latches were very solid. I was afraid, ashamed and feeling that it was a cruel and unfair punishment. I shed tears again. With the movement the gown went up. I can see the diaper and my skinny legs uncovered.
Some time after, my mom returned. She brought a tray with some dishes, glasses and a pitcher. She saw my skinned wrists. “Ohh! You’ll hurt trying to escape; you are a bad little robot. You should not try this again, because the shackles will not fail.”
She untied my head. “You should be hungry. Open your mouth. You cannot use your hands, so I am going to feed you”. She took a bowl.
“I am not hungry”
“Open the mouth, it is oatmeal,” she said.
I finally opened my mouth and get the spoonful of oatmeal. To worsen the punishment, I was being fed like a baby.
“You finished your oatmeal, good little robot. Now some chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk” She cleaned my mouth with a napkin.
It was hard to drink the milk. My mom had to get a straw.
“Okay, now some iced tea”.
I took a sip.
“More tea, David.”
“I am full, mom.”
“Think it is a medicine. Come on. Drink your glass.”
“I cannot drink more, mom.”
“Half glass and it is over”
I had to make an effort and drank the half glass.
“Well, little robot, your examination continues”. She tied my head again. “Goodbye.”
I was feeling too full, bloated and I thought things could not get worse. It was a mistake.
Some time later, after examined my situation over and over, I realized I have to go to the bathroom. I shout to my mother.
“What is the matter, little robot?”
“I have to go to the bathroom”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you: you are not allowed to let the table before the examination finishes. You cannot go to the bathroom. But whatever you want to do, make it in your diapers. That is why they are there. Do not worry: I will change you”.
I was frozen, could not believe it. Maybe it was a joke from my mother. I really did no want to be changed by my mother. I wait some minutes.
“Mom, I really have to go to the bathroom”, I shouted.
“You do not have to,” I heard her voice. “You have your diaper.”
“Oh, mom!” I got no answer.
Several minutes later I could not stop moving. I had to urinate. But in the diaper?
I could not resist more. I did it in the diaper. It was weird to hear a little sound, but it was definitively disgusting, feeling the liquid in my groin and running in the diaper. When I finished I felt all wet. The diaper felt warm and wet. Every time I made a little movement, I heard a noise and felt the diaper sticking to my skin. It felt like a, well, a wet diaper. I knew why the babies cry when they wet
.“Mom!”
“Now what?”
“I did it on the diaper”
“Well, I will change it?”
“Mom, can I change myself?”
“No, you cannot. You are not allowed to get up, remember?”
“I do not want you to change me”.
“Well, then keep the wet diaper.” And she went away.
I tried to not think in the diaper but it was unbearable.
“Mom!”
“Yes?”
“Can you change me, please?”
“I suppose you would have changed your mind”
She folded the lower half of the gown, ordered my to raise my back a little, unfasten the diaper and slid it out. I was half naked, ashamed and trying to see another way. She did rub me lightly with a baby napkin, slid up a new diaper and fasten it.
“David, you are as red as a tomato. All your body.”
My mom unfolded the gown and went away.
I was ashamed, angry, powerless and wanted to cry, but I cannot.
Later she came with another tray: lunch time. She forced me to eat two big pieces of liver and a big salad with a tangy dressing. I hated the liver and that dressing, and a big glass of iced tea.
“Are you wet?” she asked.
“No, mom.”
“Well, I will check up you soon”. She went away.
Some time later I had to urinate urgently, but also I heard noises in my belly and began feeling some pain and the need to defecate. I do not want to do it in the diaper. It was disgusting!
My mom came with a diaper in her hand. “Do you want to soil your diaper?” she asked.
“Not really,” I lied.
“No?, Um, that is strange. Maybe you need another enema.
“Mom!”
“David, your food had some laxative. I bet you already have cramps. Have not you?”
“Did you put laxative in my food? Why? You hate me!”
“No, David. If I punish you is precisely because I love you. If I hated you, I would not even care about you. The laxative was a little extra punishment.”
“Mom, I have to go to the bathroom. I do not want to...”
“No, David: if you want, you have to do it in your diaper.
”I will not.”
“You will, little robot. We just have to wait a little”. She sat on a chair.
The cramps got worse. I cannot stop moving all I can. I had to go.
“Mom! Please!”. She did not even answer. I began to cry again. “Mom...”
My mother stood and sighed. “David, all this day you had cried more than a little girl. I hope this prevented you from playing that way again. But now, if you want to do it, definitively, you will have to do it in your diaper. I am waiting”. She stood there.
I could not resist longer. I tried to defecate but I could not.
“Mom, can you go outside, please?”
“Oh, David” She shook her head, smiled and went outside.
It was easy, but with some pain. It was a lot, very liquid, absolutely nauseating! Even with the diaper I smelled the odor. It did feel disgusting, a warm liquid on my backside. Some found its way out.
“Mom...”
First she took the gown off. Then she released my ankles. I thought it was over but she saw me and told: “Oh, no. I only want you to raise your back so I can change the diaper.”
I did so. She unfastened the diaper and got it down. I saw what it looked like. Unforgettable! “Oh, David! Oh my! God!” And the odor... Hope it was a lesson for her. She used a lot of toilet paper to clean it all and put me another diaper. She also had to turn on a fan to ventilate.
My forehead was sweat covered, but it was not over yet. I had to defecate again some minutes ago. This time my mother brought a bucket with cold water, bath soap, a sponge and a towel. After taking off my diaper and clean me there she said, “Well, little robot, I am going to clean you.” She soaked the sponge, rubbed the soap and covered me with lather. It did not feel so bad, but I was naked, ashamed and all my body was blushed. Then she rinsed the sponge and me. The water was icy cold. She washed my face and let some soap got into my eyes.
“Mom”, I moaned.
“Whining robot. Close your eyes.”
She did not wash my hair. She did not like very short hair and I had to use it a bit longer than I liked. But it tangled very easily and some mornings I had real trouble to untangle and comb it. She did not want to go to the trouble. She dried me with a towel and finally put powder in my groin and a new diaper and then the gown, She tied again my ankles and spray me with cologne.
“Well, we have a very clean robot now. Goodbye”. She went away.
I had to wait some time more. My mother came.
“Well, David. I hope this little punishment works. Will you play that way again?”
“No, mom. I swear it”
At last she released me. Surprisingly she hugged me.
“David, it was not okay to play that way. It is wrong. You understand that?”
“Mom, it was only a play, but I will not play it again. I swear”.
“Very well, David. Go and take a shower.”
Later she cleaned my ankles and wrists. I helped her to put the used diapers and the gown in a trash bag along with the latches, the cardboard and the rest of equipment and taking it to the trashcan. She made me store the bag and hose for enemas in my closet. She put the leftover diapers in a bag over the worktable to remind me. When my father saw them, I had to invent a story of using them on a school project on the trouble of trash.
We had dinner as always, but I only ate a little. Later my dad arrived and the rest of the day was as always. I went to bed, but I cannot sleep that night. I was tired of lying down. Next week I returned to the summer program, and my mother seemed to have forgiven me.
But she had not finished with me.
She cut the hours I was allowed to watch T.V., the time I could spend playing inside or outside with my friends, made me study more time and in a place she could supervise (the effect: my grades got better), enrolled me in several activities, (one for each day of the week) when I returned to school, lowered my allowance, and even reduced the amount of candy and snacks I could eat. She told my dad I was eating too much sugar and probably I was.
Days later my mom made my dad finally clean the garage. She made me work hard in there from morning until night. I finished with my overalls, chest and head completely covered with dust. When we all were giving the last touches, my mother casually unbuttoned the straps of my overall, saw the design the dust put on my chest (I was shirtless) and say: “David, would you like to undress and rest on the table?” Both my mom and dad did laugh. But was not funny to me. From that time the cars returned to the garage.
She let me see the video. Although she turned on and off the camcorder it was looong and disgusting: a boy, with legs naked, tied to the table, a woman forcing him to eat and drink, changing his diapers, and cleaning him naked, like a baby.
I would have turned off the video but she forced me to watch it entirely. She got a powerful weapon over me. For several weeks, when I resisted obeying an order, she waved a cassette or told something about a video, “David, the videocassette...” to make me obey. One night at dinner, my dad told me I was courteous and well mannered and he was proud of me. My mom almost burst in laughter. Later, she put away the cassette. She still has it, but never used it again. But she never trusted me again.