On the fourth morning, they both came for me. Mother unlocked my ankle shackle with me still on my bed and told me to go to the bathroom where we went through the by now familiar procedure with my wrist cuffs. Having finished with the toilet, I was led back to the bedroom where my father was collecting up the chain.

"We are now going to move you to your new quarters which will effectively be your cell for the next year. The main garage has been converted for your use at the back of the house. There you will be secluded, and nobody will have any idea of you presence. What friends we have seen have been told that you have been returned to an institution for a year, so no one will miss you. Rest assured, you are a prisoner and as in any punishment regime, resistance and non-compliance will result in harsher punishments, heavier restriction and even extension of you sentence. You may nod if you understand this." I nodded meekly. "Today you will be fitted with various items that will facilitate your training. From time to time these will change, often for a more severe form as your body adjusts to its newly found abilities. Do not think that for one minute that any of this will be easy. It will be strenuous, tedious and often most painful. Learn well and quickly and the pain will be lessened." Finishing his sentence, he grabbed me by one arm and my mother grabbed the other. I was then marched through the house and out to the massive garage complex which when built was big enough to hold about six cars.

The place had been totally stripped of all the tools and garden equipment that had been previously stored here. I could see that the floor had been swept, and there was green matting laid all around the outside of the room along the walls to a width of about five foot, but for the most part, there was only the grey concrete which felt cold under my bare feet. In the middle of the room was a bed, normal in all respects except for the fact that it was much shorter than usual, I estimated it to be only about four feet long. The headboard and footboard both had holes of different sizes cut in them, with a large one in the middle and then two smaller ones on either side. Suddenly I had a very bad feeling of what was to come.

"Welcome to your new home", my father said as he pulled me through the door. "I'm sure that you will become familiar with the more unique features of this dwelling as time goes on, but for now, I will introduce you to the more basic facilities. He led me over to a large circular post reaching from floor to ceiling that had been installed next to the bed. I was stood between two upright pillars, which came to just over waist height. Behind me was another pillar with a wheel in top driven by a handle. I felt my arms being released from my cuffs, only for them to be reattached in front. A chain which was hanging down on the post was connected to the, and with a rattling reminiscent of a medieval dungeon scene, my arms were drawn way above my head until only the tips of my toes remained on the ground. Gently I swayed from side to side. "This will be your basic introduction to some of the aspects of your training, Janet. We will start with corset training and waist reduction. A lot of your training will revolve around modification of your body, to create the perfect vision of yourself in the eyes of any suitor that might come along once you are released. The first weeks will involve getting your body accustomed to being in unnatural restriction and stretching the muscles that you will need for your walking and deportment classes."

I felt a leather sheath being wrapped around my body, trying to look down at what they were doing to it. It appeared to be a long body corset, which went from above my breasts all the way down to my hips. The front was secured by about ten clasps; my growing breasts were accommodated in two large holes, so that the leather surrounded the base of each, the nipples becoming harder all the time. While he was doing the front up, I could feel my mother arranging the laces at the back. She was threading each side through the pulleys and to the handle. Once everything was threaded properly, she started turning the handle, drawing the slack out of the laces, while at the same time making sure that they were drawing through the eye-lets of the corset. Soon there was no slack left, and the edges of the corset began to draw together, first in the middle, which took my breath away. I tried to scream that it was too tight, but the effective gag muffled my every word. Ever so slowly, the resistance to the laces at the top and bottom of the corset were overcome, creating an every increasing pressure on my chest. Looking down. I noticed that my breasts were also enlarging, being forced at the base through the strategically placed holes. At last, the pulling stopped as the edges finally met. All mother had to do to release the laces was to pull the handle out, catching the now loose excess lacing as it fell through the pulley. She then knotted the ends very tightly before tucking away the excess in little pouches on each hip.

"This is your first corset, Janet, which has been made to a size four inches less than your waist size. Get used to it, because for now you will spend night and day in it, until more suitable clothing for nightwear can be made for you. Now turn around again to face me after I have unlocked your gag. Your will not say a word on penalty of spending the day hanging by your wrists as you are now. The choice is yours.

With my wrists already aching, I felt obliged to comply as the gag fell away from my mouth. I span round on my tiptoes to face him. In his had he had what appeared to be a piece of plastic made up of several layers of different sizes, with a couple of pins sticking out at ninety degrees at one end and an odd shaped slot cut in the middle. It looked like a squared out letter 'J' with a slightly larger hole at the top of the letter. The piece was flat at the end with the pins and but the remainder was curved. "Time for your permanent gag to be installed," he explained to me.

"This will remain in your mouth for the duration of your punishment. You will learn to eat and drink with it in place, and as it will not be an impediment to your breathing or oral hygiene, there is no reason whatsoever to remove it. Now open your mouth and put your tongue out as far as possible. Obeying his command, I put out my tongue. I felt him toying with the barbell that filled the piercing that had instigated all of this trouble for me. I could feel the end on the bottom of my tongue being pushed upwards by his finger so that the top of the barbell was above my tongue. He fed the plate into my mouth so that it lay flat against the top of my tongue, then as he moved it around, the barbell engaged in the slot in the plate. Slowly he pushed the plate back, causing the barbell to move further forward in the slot, and the two pins to start pushing at the skin at the back of my lips. Suddenly, the whole thing moved sideways and then back slightly, forcing the barbell to engage in a slot against the natural direction that the tongue would move it.

Try as I may, there was no way I could detach my tongue from that plate, it was solid and held flat. I knew that without the flexibility of my tongue coherent speak would be almost impossible but worse was to come. When I closed my mouth, I realised that my teeth would no longer come together. The middle layer of the plate was wide enough to cover my bottom set of teeth. It meant that in order to move my tongue, I would have to physically open my mouth but that was made impossible by the next step. The two other piercing that had been done along with my tongue now become useful to him. Attaching a minute jewellery clip, most likely from a necklace chain, to ring in my lip, he connected my lower lip to my nose ring. There was now no way that I could open my mouth, so of course no means of moving my tongue. I was as good as mute and likely to stay that way for a very long time.

He stopped to examine his handiwork for a minute then told me to attempt to speak. All I could manage was a couple of squeaks and mumbles before breaking into a gagging fit, which took time to control. "Very effective isn't it?" he gloated. "Isn't it ironic that the very things that got you into this mess are going to prove so useful in creating the remedy. I think now that it is time to introduce you to part of your sleeping arrangements while we get a few more items sorted out."

With another clatter of chain, he released my hands, and led me over to the bed, beckoning me to sit up straight on the edge, which was something that came naturally with the constriction that I was feeling on my waist. While I sat waiting, my father undid some bolts on the headboard and the footboard. The top parts of both lifted up and I knew with some dread that my earlier guess had been right. Parts of my body were intended for the holes. He made me lie down with my neck in the larger hole of the headboard, and my wrists in the closest of the smaller holes. As soon as I was in an approximate position, he replaced the upper board trapping my neck and hands in place. I experimented to see just how much movement the boards would allow me, which was not very much at all. The lack of support behind my head became a concern, but after putting the bolts back in to secure the two parts together, he raised a shelf under my head and positioned it so that the back of my head rested on a padded section. My ankles rested over the footboard, at what seemed to be the correct length for the simple task of imprisoning my ankles as well. Strangely, the holes for my feet were not circular, but were tear shaped. At first I couldn't figure out why, and it was not until later that I discovered the horrible reason.

With both parts of what he called "the stocks" in place I was rendered unable to move, except to wriggle my hips slightly. Some of that movement was then removed when two very long straps were passed over and around my body and the bed. Positioning them above and below my breasts he cinched them down as hard as he could, pinning my chest and making it difficult for me to breath.

Standing over me, he looked into my terrified and distressed eyes. "Now Janet," since you seem to enjoy getting yourself pierced, I've decided that it would be appropriate and useful to add a few more. I'll be back in a minute and then I'm going to pierce your nipples and put rings in them". My eyes bulged at the prospect and I tried desperately to wriggle free of my bonds, but to no available Screaming did not do any good either, because it only ended up in my having another gagging fit. He came back shortly carrying a tray with a number of items on it, which he placed next to my head. I tried to turn slightly to see what was on their but to no avail. He started to give me a running commentary on what he was doing, which made this even worse.

"OK Janet" he started, "I've been reliably informed that this does not hurt at all. Your mother had this done many years ago, but you didn't know that did you?" I shook my head briefly, trying to imagine my mother with pierced nipples. "What I'm going to do first is apply some anaesthetic and antiseptic to the area surrounding your nipples." I felt his fingers rubbing an ice cold substance on them, cold enough that I could almost feel them going numb. He waited for a couple of minutes to allow the gel to take effect. In his hand, I could make out what appeared to be miniature paper clamp with rubber tipped ends. A great pressure on my left breast built up as he applied it to the area immediately behind the nipple, to stop the flow of blood, he explained. In his right hand he now had what looked like a gun, which he pressed onto the side of my nipple. I closed my eyes tightly, trying not to imagine the ultra sharp needle being shot straight through the skin and out of the other side, but it was not good. The incredible pain made the vision all too real. Tears streamed from my eyes as a second larger needle was inserted by hand to open up the wound wide enough to take the small ring that was intended to find a home there. He left the clamp in place as he threaded the nipple ring through the hole, before adding a small length of chain to the ring and mating the two ends together. Then, to add to the misery, he swiftly soldered the gap, meaning that I could only be removed by cutting it off. The all to painful process was repeated with the other nipple, the fact that I had been through it once making it none the less distressing.

"I'm going to leave those to heal slightly for tonight, before I attach the chain, but I will explain now what they are for. All of the corsets that are made for you will leave your breasts uncovered in the same way that this one does. The chains will be attached to small clips that have been sown in above you breasts. When attached, they will physically lift your breasts by the nipples, which will no doubt provide a considerable amount of discomfort to you in the early days, particularly when you are exercising. The amount of tension can, of course, be adjusted in the event of any minor infractions. As of tomorrow, your breast training commences. Now, we'll deal with your feet, since a major part of your deportment training will involve teaching you how to walk, balance and hold yourself in the most extreme of footwear."

Stood now at the end of the bed, he released the ankle stock slightly and pulled my foot towards him. Although I could not see what was going on, again he gave me a running commentary. "The cuffs that I am now attaching to your ankles will stay on you until necessary. They will ensure that you will always retain your shoes on your feet, whatever happens." As he passed the strap around my ankle, I felt another strap going under the arch of my foot. From the feel of it, it had two pieces of metal attached, one straight across the arch, and another longer piece lying up the middle of my foot.

"What you can feel under your foot is a retaining strap for a two inch long bolt which is now protruding from the base of your foot. I would advise you that if you ever do have to stand barefoot, which will be a rarity, do not attempt to put your foot flat on the floor as this could have very painful consequences. At all times your feet will either be in high heels, or in an arched position. The purpose of this is to ensure that your calf muscles cannot relax and lose their tension as this could lead to pulled muscles. It will not stop your training, but it will be very painful, particularly in the latter stages when your heels will be excessively high. Incidentally, in order that you maintain a ladylike step at all times, there is a connecting hobble chain between your ankles that will only allow a maximum twelve inch step."

"We're going to start your off with a reasonable heel height, just so that you can become accustomed over the first few days to walking on the balls of your feet, something that you have never had to do before. This is the shoe that I am going to be fitting you with for the rest of the day." He lifted it up to that I could see it over the top of the stock. As you can see, it is only a 4" heel of the stiletto variety. All of your shoes from now on will have the same type of heel. The maximum width at the tip will not be more than five millimetres, which will undoubtedly cause you problems at first in keeping your balance but I know that when you find out what happens when you lose your balance, you will quickly adapt."

I looked at the shoe that he was holding up, and immediately dreaded having to walk in them. Even though he said they were moderate, the fact that I only wore a size four shoe made the arch look mountainous. They appeared only to be a sole and a heel. The only means of support for the foot was a toe strap that was buckled across the instep. At the moment it was undone, the strap flapping about as the shoe was being held up. I felt the right shoe being applied to the sole of my foot, and realised that the projection under my foot was going to have to pass through the sole of the shoe. I later discovered, when I got a chance to look at them, that once on, a large nut was used to secure the shoe to the sole of my foot. Without the appropriate tool, there was no way that it could be removed, even with the strap undone. He then did the toe strap up, which I suppose was only there to prevent the shoe from twisting sideways on my foot since it served no purpose in actually hold the shoe on my foot. The left shoe quickly followed. The feel of the arch of my foot was an unfamiliar and not too comfortable one. At the time I was worried that I was going to have to sleep in these things as well, but later wished that this were the case as night-time would prove to be far worse.

With my feet finished, he released the stock on my neck slightly, enough that I could withdraw my hands but not my neck for now. Evidently, it was now the turn of my hands to be prepared and I imagined that I would have to wear wrist cuffs of some description. He returned carrying what looked like to leather tubes, so narrow that is was difficult to see what they could be used for. Instructing me to keep my fingers straight and my thumb tucked in to the palm of my hand; the left hand got forced into one of the tubes that I noticed ended in a cone shaped point. Once in the tube the space for my fingers got narrower and narrower. Then my fingers hit something metal in the lining as well, which was where the cone began. As my fingers went deeper and deeper into the cone, they become more compressed until the middle finger reached the end of the cone. The top of the tube was now reaching the joint of my elbow, covering my entire lower arms in a tight kid leather sheath. He didn't need straps on my wrists at all. The tubes were so tight that I could not have removed without the use of another pair of hands. All that was left of my hands was a couple of points, shaped deliberately so that even with both hands, grasping something would be difficult.

It must have been about two o'clock in the afternoon by the time all the preparations were finished. My hands were put both in the stocks and I was left for an hour to acclimatise to my new surroundings, not that I could see much from my position. Hunger pangs had returned as well, reminding me that I had not had any food in the past three days. I just had to lie there feeling more and more sorry for myself. I cried again, desperate for my situation, and frightened of what lay ahead and was still sobbing when my father returned about an hour later.

Releasing me from the wooden panels that held me, he stood me upright, and I felt the effects of the high heels for the very first time. My foot was being forced into what I thought was an impossible arch and there was an instant feeling of pressure on my toes and the ball of my foot. My left hand was pulled far behind me, and I felt it being strapped above my right hip. Evidently, there must have been straps built into the corset to hold them there. He repeated the procedure with my right hand so that the arms crossed at the elbows. Fortunately, being so young, I was supple enough to cope with this but even so, the strain on my shoulders was incredible. I had to arch my back to cope with the pain, which was added to when another strap was passed around my elbows, locking them to my body as well.

Now that you're out of bed, I might as well give a taste of the exerciser that I've prepared for you, to assist with your walking lessons. With his hand in my back, he pushed me gently towards the wall. I wasn't prepared for that or the effect that having a chain on my ankles was going to have on how far a step I good take and I almost fell forward until my father grabbed me and pulled me back. The heels didn't help either, as my balance was immediately thrown forward when I stumbled. Clearly, walking was not going to be the automatic process that it had always been under the conditions. Taking hold of my arm to offer me some support in during my first faltering steps, he led me to a box, mounted on the wall. For the first time I noticed two thin chains attached to a thin cable reaching from the ceiling. Looking up to where it came from, I saw the rail which, when I followed it's course, led right around the walls directly above the green matting and back to where I stood.

"This is how you will learn about walking like a lady. As this is the first time, you will only be given a short and slow demonstration, but from tomorrow, your training starts properly. The chain in front of you is attached to a small, motorised tractor unit, which is hanging from the track above you. You in turn will be connected to the chain, which will dictate the pace at which you move and for how long. Normally, these chains will be connected directly to your nipple chains, so that any hesitation on your part will result in your nipple rings being pulled away from your body. There is a safety feature should you fall so that you don't tear your nipple rings out and permanently disfigure yourself. The junction between the cable and the chain is also an electrical connection; one where the amount of pressure needed to break the connection is adjustable from almost nothing to twenty pounds. For the early days of your training, it will be set very low, as you are likely to fall quite a lot, but as your training increases or you show no improvement in your abilities to handle higher and different heels, the pressure will be increased. I suspect that by then end, your normal sessions will have it set at about ten pounds. Not a lot you may think, but then think of five bags of sugar dangling from your nipples and you will realise that you will be in great pain if you fall. The amount of time that you spend on the exercising will be dictated by the setting on this timer. As you can see, it goes up to eight hours. You will be able to see this as you pass on each circuit. If the electrical circuit is broken in the connection, the timer will stop and a message will be sent to a pager that we both your mother and I will carry. One of us will come and reconnect it for you. Only when we start the tractor again does the timer recommence counting. The speed is also fully adjustable from a very slow walk to running, which you will be expected to achieve in due course. You will also be expected to cope with various obstacles that you encounter in every day life, such as stairs, slopes and uneven surfaces such as stones."

Having given the sales pitch, he connected the chains. Mercifully, he used the coupling on my corset above my breasts, which my nipple chains were intended to be connected to, explaining that as I had only had my nipples pierced that afternoon, he would let the heal slightly first. "I've set the tractor for thirty minutes, which will probably take you an hour to complete with the number of times you are likely to fall. Once you have completed that, your mother will give you some food, as you must now be extremely hungry. After that, I wish to make a cast of your feet and you will then be put to bed for the night." With that he hit the button which started me on my way. At first, I thought it hadn't started, but slowly the slack was taken out of the chains and I felt the inexorable pull on my corset. I took my first step, watching the chain to make sure that it stayed slack. This time I was more conscious of the chain on my ankle and tried to experiment with the best way to walk. I found that because of the length of the hobble, I could manage only to put the heel of one foot about four inches in front of the other toe. However, by keeping my feet in a straight line, rather than walking with feet side to side, it gave me another inch or so in every step. I managed to achieve about 10 steps the first time, before I stumbled in the unfamiliar shoes that I wore. Immediately I started to fall, the cable tightened and I heard the click as the chain separated at the connection. I went crashing down on the matting; not able to save myself with my arms clamped so useless behind me. I lay there, wondering if I had done any damage to myself and thankful that I had fallen on the matting and not on the cold, hard surface of the concrete floor. A soft beeping sound came from the direction that my father stood, watching me but not making any move. He took the pager off his belt, silencing the alarm and then walked over to where I lay and assisted me to my feet. After plugging the chain back into the socket, he went back to the timer box and hit the button again to start me on my way, satisfied at least that the system that he had put together was working.

It took me about twenty minutes to complete the first circuit, in which I fell four times, each time being picked up by my watching father and started on my way. Gradually, I got used to the pace of the machine and was able to time my steps so that I kept the cable at about the same tension. The hobble chain took more getting used to, since every so often the need to take controlled steps was overtaken by the natural urge to take a normal step. Almost invariably, that cause me to stumbled and it took a great amount of concentration to recover, especially when the tractor continued to move forward pulling me along while all I wanted to do was stop and regain my footing properly. I glanced at the timer as I completed that first circuit. Although it had taken me nearly twenty minutes, it had only counted down eight minutes in total and it hit me just how long the process of walking for half an hour could take at this rate. Already the balls of my feet were aching, from being held in what I had always considered to be such an unnatural position, and I could feel my toes beginning to cramp caused by the angle between them and my foot. But, there was no stopping the machine as it carried on relentlessly, ignoring my discomfort completely.

The second circuit took slightly less time, due mainly to my only falling down twice. It was not until the fourth circuit that I managed to make a complete circle of the garage without falling over, something that did my confidence a lot of good. I managed to complete two more circuits before I heard the "ping" of the timer, and the sound of father's pager going off again. By now, the balls of my feet were screaming out in pain, and all I wanted to do was to be able to take my weight of them. I was unhooked from the walker and led back to the bed. My father quickly removed the stock boards again, and instructed me to lie on my stomach with my neck and feet in position. Quickly I obeyed him, if only to be able to rest my feet. Once I was again pinned down on my bed, my leather sheathed arms still locked, securely and painfully behind me, my father made to leave, saying that my mother would be done shortly with some food for me. He went on to warn me, that he would be watching on closed circuit camera. Although my lips would be released so that I could open my mouth, I was warned not to make any attempt to speak or communicate in any way. If I did so, the food would be taken away and none would be provided for another twenty-four hours. After going four days with only water, the prospect of another day without food frightened me and I nodded my agreement as he left. I was allowed to lie there, staring at the floor and contemplating my changed circumstances for about half an hour before I heard my mother's footsteps coming down the stairs which led for the main part of the house. She carried a small tray with a plate of food and a drink, which she put down on the shelf that had earlier supported my head. I fully expected to be allowed to sit up and for my hands to be released so that I could at least eat with dignity but it was not to be. She took a few moments to unclip the clasp that held my lower lip to my nose ring allowing me at least to open my mouth and gain some movement of my tongue which had been clamped by my teeth for some hours. Remembering the threat of no food, I made not a sound as my mother laid a napkin under my chin, and I released with horror that I was going to be fed in this position.

Trying to eat, with your tongue made of plastic which fills your entire mouth is not the easiest proposition, I quickly found out. The meal was pasta, which didn't need to be chewed, a function that I would have to gradually need to relearn. My mother put a small spoonful into my open mouth and let it fall onto my "tongue". I have to shut my mouth quickly to stop it from falling back out with my head facing towards the floor. I tried manipulating my mouth; to draw the food to the back so that it could be swallowed all. It took me about thirty seconds to manage to figure out a way to do it and the food finally slid down my throat. After four days without any food, it should have tasted like the best food ever, but it struck me, I couldn't taste anything. With my tongue completely covered by the gag, all the taste receptors in my mouth got to encounter was the taste of plastic.

Despite my hunger, what was only a small meal filled me completely, and I wandered whether the fact that my corset was pressing on my stomach had anything to do with this. It still took about twenty minutes to eat the small plate, struggling with one mouthful after another as I came to grips with basic skills like swallowing, having to be re-learned. Once the plate was cleaned, and I had finished off the last of my soft drink, extracted through a straw, my mother cleaned up my mouth, where I had dribbled a fair amount of food, reconnected my lip ring to my nose ring and then left. Once again, I was left alone, mute and totally restrained.

About an hour later, my father returned, carrying with him two metal boxes with no lid and various other bits of metal attached. I gave a sigh of relief as I felt my wrists being released form their imprisonment behind my back. My shoulders had gone numb a long time ago with the pressure, and quickly began to sear as the circulation got going again. But at least I could move them. Lifting the stocks on my neck and legs to allow me to turn over and sit up, put the bottom stock back in place, then pulled my legs down until my knees were over the edge of the stocks, with my legs dangling down. My neck was well below the headboard now, but to make sure I didn't try to go anywhere, my hands got locked in place above my head. One foot at a time, he undid the bolts that held my shoes to my feet, allowing me to finally hold my foot in a position where it wasn't arched. I took time out while he was undoing the second on to get some feeling back into my toes by wriggling them. Once free of the shoes, he started wrapping what looked like plastic food wrap around my legs, from my calves right the way down to my toes, but he left them partly uncovered. He then put a loop of string, around each toe in turn, just on the first joint and tightened them so that when pulled the loop could not slip off my toes. I then felt a heavy weight being clamped around each leg, just above the calf muscle.

Although I could not see what he was doing, the touch of my toes on metal suggested that the boxes where now hanging around my feet. I felt a pull on my toes and my foot started to get pulled downwards, unable to resist with the fear of making the loops of string any tighter on the joints. The string had been passed through the bottom of the box, and now my toes were held almost pointing directly towards the floor. Even though I could move my legs, whatever angle they were held at, my foot still pointed towards the bottom of the box. He explained that he was going to make a cast of my feet and that I was to hold till while he poured a quick drying compound into the boxes. It would take about 20 minutes for the mixture to go off, and then he would release my feet and I could be made ready for bed. The weight of the box increased dramatically as he commenced poring the mix into the metal boxes, the clamps around my calf muscles digging in as the while contraption tried to slide down my legs but was unable to do so. I tried raising my legs to relieve some of the pressure being caused by the headboard being behind my knees, but the pull on them was now too much. Again, I was left for half an hour while the mix went off properly. The clamps on my calves were finally removed and the boxes fell the short distance to the floor with a thump. Resting the boxes on the bed, my father undid some catches on the side and they split into two equal halves, along with the mouldings. He held in his hand was a perfect mould of my foot. What puzzled me was that with my foot in the position that he had put it in before poring, I could not figure out how much use it would be to him. After removing the loops of string from my feet, he quickly reattached my shoes, making sure that I was still not able to rest my feet for more than a few seconds.

While he was clearing up, my mother came back down from the house, and after a quick discussion, they decided that it was time for me to be put to bed for the night. Releasing my arms, I was allowed to walk by myself to the newly installed bathroom, taking my time on my heels, although walking was a lot easier when you had the use of your arms, even if your hands were totally useless. I thought that they would take the mittens off me, but my mother did not even consider it. I was allowed to use the chemical toilet that had been provided, my mother cleaning me up afterwards and then she washed what parts of me she felt she needed too. After drying me off, she undid unclipped my lips so that I could open my mouth, and used an electric toothbrush to clean my teeth for me, which was disgusting since most of the toothpaste ran into the back of my throat and I had to swallow it. I had to rinse my mouth with an antiseptic mouthwash, which she said would kill any germs on the gag. My mouth was then sealed again, and I was led back to my bed where I noticed that something had been added while I was away.

I lay on the bed and positioned my neck and wrists properly since I figured that I might as well make myself as comfortable as possible. The shelf was raised to a height that I could rest my head on without straining my neck. The addition to the bed was another wooden board positioned just below my knees. It must have been connected underneath the bed. When the straps that were connected to it were buckled around my legs, I was unable to lift my knees even though my feet were not secured until a few seconds later when the footboard was slid into place, trapping my ankles securely in place. I saw my father pick up some strange looking frames, which he slotted into place over my feet, evidently hanging off the footboard. Even though I still had my shoes on, I could feel around the strap a plate of curved metal resting above my foot, just where the toe strap was secured. After undoing the straps on my shoes, he swiftly removed the retaining bolts again, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I allowed my feet to return to as close to their natural position as the curved plate on top of my toes allowed. The sigh turned quickly to a gargled scream though. With a strange clicking of a ratchet, my father pressed down on a couple of levers on the sides of the cages and the metal plate began to force my feet into a shape where my ankles were dead in line, my feet pointing out at right-angles to the footboard. The pain in my legs was excruciating, but try as I might, the knee straps prevented me from releasing any of the tension in the muscles of my ankle, which were so badly stretched. I now realised why the holes for my ankles were tear shaped. It was so that my Achilles tendons would have somewhere to expand on the backs of my ankles.

With tears yet again streaming down my face, both my parents walked away and left me, switching out the light and plunging me into darkness. I lay there, unable to move and in constant pain for the next four hours or so, until exhaustion finally took over and I fell into a fitful, disturbed sleep.