Mike goes to the wrong clinic – ALL NEW

CPR

This is a custom video and some elements outlined in the script below may have been changed.

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Mike is an unlucky construction worker who has injured his knee on the job and unfortunately finds himself in Dr. Smith’s exam room. A fine physical specimen, Mike has no idea What Dr. Smith does to men and boys like him and he awaits with no shoes or socks and clad only in his safety construction helmet, a skin tight t-shirt and jeans. As Dr. Smith enters Mike is exhausted, in a lot of pain, and grimy and sweaty from a long day at work, having been brought into the ER by his foreman, after suffering a nasty fall work that has resulted in intense knee pain.

When Dr Smith sees the hot and clueless patient lying on his exam table, he immediately has thoughts of turning him into a latest lab rat, but noting in his chart that his foreman is out in the waiting room, staying behind to take him home after his injuries are tended to, the Doctor decides to proceed with caution. He asks Mike what happened, and after his patient tells him of being knocked off a steel beam by a rookie forklift operator and falling about twelve feet into a sand pit, Dr. Smith asks what pain the young man has. “My left knee hurts like a motherfucker, Doc,” is Mike’s response and the Doctor gives him some “pain pills” to take while he reviews the x-rays. Dr. smith tells the patient that nothing seems broken or out of joint from the film, but he needs to do a full physical exam to rule out any other substantial injuries.

He then orders the young man to strip as he waits for the pills to relax the boy and cloud his memory. Mike removes his helmet and then says he feels a bit dizzy and “kinda high.” Dr. Smith then cuts the t-shirt off the dizzy young man with a pair of scissors and then exams the patient’s back and torso, allowing himself to tentatively grope the injured man’s chest, nipples and armpits as Mike drifts in and out of his dazed state. As he catches a whiff of Mike’s ripe his pits, Dr. Smith notes that Mike seems to be coming around of because the patient pulls away from him and states, “What the Hell, Doc?” Mike almost falling from the exam table as he pulls free of the doctor’s grip, but Dr. Smith catches him before he does.

“Just checking you for trauma sweat, son,” is all Smith says before he orders Mike to remove the rest of his clothes.

Mike attempts to squirm out of his jeans, but the knee is too weak and painful, and he is also dizzy from the drugs and collapses in Dr. Smith’s arms. As Smith pulls him close and smells his hair and neck, Mike slurs, “You gotta help me, Doc. My knee is killing me.”

Mike lies him back on the exam table as Dr. Smith eases Mike out of his jeans and revealing a dirty jock strap as the last piece of clothing on the muscle boy’s hot ass. He exams and gropes Mike’s thighs, knees and calves as the boy struggles to fight off the effects of the pills. Mike finally passes out momentarily and for a moment Dr. Smith has full control of this hot body, easing him down onto his back and groping his chest, abs and ass before Mike comes around abruptly and pulls away, saying, “What’s the verdict, Doc?” Fully in control again, Mike refuses to remove his jock and then watches as Dr. Smith bandages his left knee and tells him its only badly sprained, and that he needs to rest at home for the next week or so. He takes down the patient’s home address and tells him he’ll run by and check on him in a day or two as part of his medical services. Dr. Smith cautions Mike not to tell anyone of the “house call” because it’s kind of a favor he does for special cases like Mike’s. Mike thanks him and then Dr. Smith hands him his jeans, a crutch, and a script for pain killers, and tells him he’ll tell his boss to come in and help him dress before he exits.

Cut to Mike clad only in some tight gym trunks or cut offs, lying on his couch at home, watching TV on a hot afternoon. His construction helmet and cell phone sit next to him on the couch. The a/c in his house is broken, so Mike sits there sweaty and drinking a beer when he hears his doorbell chime. Mike reached for his crutch and begins hobbling to the door as the chime sounds again. “Coming,” is all he calls out as he makes his way to the front door and opens it, seeing Dr. Smith standing there.

“Time for that check up, Mike. I was on my way home and thought I’d run by. I hope that’s okay? How are you feeling?” The doctor says as he enters and helps his patient back to the couch.

“The knee’s better, but I do have some cramping in my lower abs, probably strained ‘em or something in the fall.”

“I’d better take a look.” Dr. Smith says as he begins feeling the boy’s abs on either side just below his navel. When Mike flinches, Dr. Smith says he’ll need to strip for a full exam to rule out internal bleeding. Mike responds with a knowing smirk, lowering his trunks a bit with some effort, revealing that same jock strap from a few days ago. “That’s as far as I’ll go for free, Doc.” Mike says with a wink, before he takes another long sip of beer. Mike doesn’t notice that Dr. Smith is pulling a rag and bottle from his pocket behind him and preparing a chloroform rag. As he sits back on the couch, Dr. Smith suddenly attacked him from behind, the rag pressed tightly over his mouth and nose as he begins screaming and struggling in shock and then anger and fear trying to break free. The boy puts up quite a fight, both verbally and physically, as he screams and curses very loudly as he tries to free himself from the skilled doctor’s death-like grip. At one point, Mike does manage to push free of Dr. Smith and pushes him onto the floor. Mike then grabs for his phone cell phone to call for help, gasping that the doctor’s a, “fucking prev and I’m gonna turn you in!”

Smith leaps back up and replies, “You aren’t fast enough, punk,” and once again presses the rag over the weakened boy’s terrified and pleading face. After some more screaming and struggling, Mike drops the phone and passes out, allowing Dr. Smith to at last toy with Mike’s beautiful prone and still body for a moment or two with growing excitement as he slides off his shorts and jock just before we cut to black out.

Cut to Mike alone and nude on the couch, lying face down, a piece of duct tape is secured to his mouth, effectively gagging him as he stirs awake with a start. His wrists are handcuffed behind his back and his ankles are tied together with a rope or some cord that also ties his wrists and ankles together, effectively hog-tying the now struggling and screaming boy on the couch. Terrified and helpless, Mike notices his cell phone lying just out of reach on the couch cushion near his head as it begins ringing. He frantically struggles to reach the phone and somehow press it with his face, hoping he can answer it that way and somehow alert the caller of his plight. Just as he is able to secure the phone with his chin and drag it nearer, a gloved hand reaches in and pulls it away from the terrified young man. Dr. Smith looks down smirking at his captive, holding the cell phone just out of reach. “We don’t need anymore volunteers for the experiment today, Michael. Such a naughty boy, threatening to turn me in for my little experiments.” He says as he turns off the phone and looks down on his helpless prey, gently touseling his victim’s hair with one hand. Mike grunts and tries to break free, but when he fails to do so, Mike begs with his captor, denying he’ll tell anyone as Dr. Smith roughly rips the tape off the boy’s mouth. We then focus on Mike’s frightened face as he let’s out a terrified scream when he sees Dr. Smith grab his chloroform rag again, and we fade to black.

Cut to Mike suspended by his wrists from a beam in a garage/storage area with wrist restraints. His safety helmet is back on, his only article of clothing and the words “Lab Rat #37” are scrawled on it in black ink. A strip of grimy white cloth blindfolds the frightened boy. The camera pans his naked body, and we notice the wiring for ECT attached to it. It is now late at night, and Mike has been tortured for hours. His gag has been discarded hours ago, but Mike is too terrified of Dr. Smith’s unseen whereabouts to call out or scream for help. As Dr. Smith’s hand strokes his body and checks the leads he’s attached to the boy, Mike flinches and whimper, “Dude, why are you doing this? What did I ever do to you? Please don’t hurt me! Please, just let me go! I won’t tell anyone…I swear I won’t. Just untie me and leave, okay…OKAY?”

With that Dr. Smith is now behind him and he removes the patient’s helmet before placing it on his own head. He clamps a hand over Mike’s still pleading mouth, effectively gagging him, before he presses his lips against Mike’s ear, forcefully whispering, “Shut up, meat!” This causes Mike to dissolve into terrified sobs as Dr. Smith produces a knotted bandana from his pocket and stuffs the knot into Mike’s pleading mouth. “No, don’t! Please!” Mike manages to get out before the gag is tied securely behind his head, muffling his screams.

Dr. Smith then steps back and begins admiring the boy. Mike’s ankles are still bound with the rope. Mike hangs there like a slab of frightened beef before he becomes suddenly enraged and defiantly screams profanities at the Doctor before his captor delivers a series of hard gut punches to the knock the air out of the terrified boy. “SHUT UP!” He snarls at the boy before removing the helmet from his own head and placing it on a table or shelf. He takes a beat, calming himself.

“Now, we have to go over my hypothesis before we continue, Lab Rat #37.” Dr. Smith begins as Mike sobs and begs into his gag, shaking his head in a violent, impotent protest. “My theory is there is a healing component to electro-convulsive therapy on the healthy adult male specimen. Through a series of brief, significant shocks, I plan to heal your considerable injuries…the dislocated knee and the undiagnosed internal bleeding which is slowly killing you. You should comfort yourself that you get to be a part of an experiment that will better all mankind. Are you ready now, Michael?”

“You’re fucking crazy!” Mike screams into the gag and for that he is rewarded with another series of painful gut punches.

“Now, let’s commence.” Dr. Smith says as he calmly reaches for the ECT controls. He sends a healthy jolt through Mike’s convulsing body, then another and another, until the boy’s screams weaken to pathetic whimpers and he hangs near lifeless, dangling from the wrist restraints.

We next see a close up of the wrist chain being unhooked and then the sound of Mike’s body dropping to the concrete floor is heard.

Cut to Mike lying naked, in a heap on the floor, sobbing. He manages to pull the gag from his mouth and begins crawling away from Dr. Smith in a vain attempt to escape. “No more! Please! No more!” He begs as he crawls away. Dr. Smith is silent and sends another mind-numbing jolt of electricity into his captive’s body. Mike let’s out a full agonized scream before growing silent as the charge ebbs and leaves his body. Dr. Smith rolls Mike onto his back and checks his vitals and begins admisinstering CPR. After a beat or two, Mike revives with a noisy gulp of air as we fade to black.

Cut to Mike, terrified and lying face up on his bed, a makeshift lab table. Mike is nude except for a dirty rag tossed over his gentials. His arms and hands are bound to his sides with clear cling wrap which begins just below his pecs and wraps around his body, again and again down to his navel, effectively securing his arms and wrists to his sides. The same process binds his legs together from his knees down to his ankles. A white cloth gag is tied between his teeth, muffling his screams and sobs. His eyes are wild with fear and his whimpers and attempts to plead through the secured gag are truly heartrending. Secured in clear plastic, Mike finally looks like the displayed “meat” Dr. Smith has referred to throughout their encounter. His body’s struggling resembles a trapped worm on a specimen slide, and he is frantically struggling and shaking his head in disbelief as Dr. Smith towers over him, preparing the defilbrulator paddles for this final act of torture. “Poor Michael, like the others, I can’t allow you to tell anyone about my little project. Too many lives depend upon me.” Smith states as he exams the vulnerable boy’s body lying before him. “We have one final experiment, and I doubt you’lll survive it.”

Mike screams again in rage and terror.

“We need a more focused, direct current to cure you.” Smith displays the paddles for emphasis. “This will be more than you heart can take, so it’s been nice knowing you, kiddo! Now, are you ready to begin?” Mike screams futilely one last time as the paddles are put to his rock hard pecs, then Dr. Smith sends threè short charges into the boy’s heart. Mike writhes in pain with each jolt. Three more shocks are given before Mike is finally silent, and Dr. Smith checks the boy’s vital signs and swiftly removing the gag from his victim’s mouth before beginning CPR.

After a moment or so of effort, Mike springs back to life. Coughing and cursing Smith, Mike says, “ You son is a bitch! If I get free from this, I’ll kill you, you fucker… you think you’re a genius? You’re fucking crazy! Fuck you, man! Just fuck you!” And with that, Mike lurches forward at his captor and Dr. Smith delivers one long charge with the paddles that end Mike’s life.

As he lays there, his eyes wide from all the rage and fear of his last moments, his mouth open in mid-curse, we dissolve into Dr. Smith’s final preparations for displaying the body of his latest victim. Mike lies facedown on the couch, his face turned toward camera with his eyes in a dead stare. The arm and leg closest to the camera are limp and dangling off the side of the couch. His other arm and leg stretched over the length of the couch. His upstage hand provides a resting place for his head and a beer bottle lays on the floor by his limp dangling hand.

Smith picks up the boy’s safety helmet, a little trophy of the day’s work, and slowly exits the room, leaving the body for others to discover in a day or two.