Chapter Text
A week. Seven long days since they knocked me out to take those scans and they still haven’t told me anything about the results. I tried asking once and all She told me was that it isn’t my concern anymore, that they would do what needs to be done with the information. It sucks, but Anastasia said something similar. That my health isn’t my responsibility but rather that it's an owner’s prerogative to keep me healthy if they want me healthy but also to starve and sleep deprive me if they want that instead. If that’s what it means to be a good slave then that’s how it is. I think part of the point is that the same principle would mean that it’s not appropriate to complain about other material conditions. If a bed is uncomfortable then that is how the owner intended it and it’s up to them to change that if it isn’t. If there’s not enough food then that is how the owner intended it and it’s up to them to change it if they don’t want their slave to experience the consequences of that, but it’s still not the slave’s place to complain.
I understand the utility of the mindset but it still chafes just a little in a way that I have to push down. My bandages only get changed every other day now. We still go to the medical bay for me to shower though. Probably something to do with the main one being a public shower. They might not want me to get used to showering unrestrained and in relative privacy in that room. It’s all association games with them. Associate actions with sensations, associate places with behaviors. In this case, shower equals naked and restrained in public. It's not particularly complicated but honestly that makes it all the more insidious and effective. So far the ones I’ve identified are: Reader equals safe, routine equals safe, obedience equals reward.
I’m sitting in bed reading the third Inheritance Cycle book when she comes in. I don’t speak first. Slaves are supposed to wait to be addressed. “Good morning Alice.”
“Good morning Ma’am.” It’s routine by now.
“Today is going to be different. You’re recovering well, so it’s time for you to meet the rest of the porcelain. You’ll eat meals together, shower as a group and start attending lessons with the rest of them, at least you will as soon as we figure out which levels you belong in.” She holds up a pair of leather cuffs. “Remember, girls on this level aren’t allowed out of certain areas like your cells unrestrained. I’ll remove the cuffs as soon as we get to the cafeteria, it’s designated as another secure area thanks to how many guards will be there.”
Fear. People. Big. Probably loud. Cuffs. Even if they are leather not steel. But also… people. People that I can just talk to without worrying about saying the wrong thing and getting punished. Still scary but also exciting. “Thank you Ma’am.”
That seems to have been the correct response. She smiles as she walks back toward the slab of plexiglass that slides open quietly. “Come along Alice. You’re going to be late for breakfast.”
I follow her out of the cell and down the hall and then to the right of my cell, the direction we hadn’t ever gone yet. Usually we go left to go to medical. The route to the cafeteria is actually extremely straightforward. I’ve taken to identifying the direction my cell faces as ‘North’ for no real reason other than it makes keeping track of stuff easier. We reach a T intersection where the current hall continues forward heading ‘west’, but we turn left back to the ‘north’. Along the way there are regularly spaced dead end hallways stretching out ‘east’ and ‘west’. Each one of these has cells in them, but only on the ‘south’ side. All the cell doors face ‘north’ just like mine and from the size of the blocks it seems like each cell faces the direct back of the cell in front of it. The hallway in the middle of the cells eventually opens into a cafeteria, well… some kind of hybrid of a cafeteria and a communal recreation facility.
The door we come through is about four yards off the ground giving a clear view of the whole space. There's a large TV behind a pane of lexan, but it’s not currently on. It’s mounted to the same wall as a cluster of book cases full of well worn paperbacks and simple board games, though it seems like the boards are made of cardstock and the pieces are various kinds of origami. There are a few tables bolted to the ground here and some cubeish beanbag like seats. Farthest from us there is a line where food is being served and there are four tables with benches on each side. The whole space looks like it was designed to accommodate a hell of a lot more people than the twelve people in dark grey uniforms populating the benches or standing to get food.
The final notable thing is the catwalk. The metal construction circles the whole room at the same level as the small platform I’m standing on. There is a set of stairs that leads down and several more staircases like it spread throughout the room. There are three distinct groups that populate the upper space and only two of them seem to mix at all. There are guards all dressed in the same dark blue uniform that Lan and the other guards I met all wear. It suddenly occurs to me that this space is different. Some of the guards here are men. I haven't seen a man since… well since just after church a lifetime ago.
The guards are the group that doesn’t mix with the other two, instead gathering in small clumps near each of the staircases ready to quickly descend and take care of any problems. The other two groups are Victorian maids and… C-suite executives? The maids are clearly all slaves. Their shiny silver collars gleam brightly even from afar. Other than that they look like they were ripped straight out of a black and white photo, just like one of the slaves I saw that first day. There’s none of the modern frilly embellishments of the pornographic french maid, just the no-nonsense, black, full body covering with a few white accents. They keep their heads bowed in clear deference to the powerful looking women they are speaking to. The women who are all wearing some variety of slacks and blouses or fantastically tailored skirts. They look like they belong in boardrooms, not an underground prison.
The Reader unlocks my cuffs and gives me a gentle nudge down the stairs just as a call sounds out from the far side. “Hey! It’s Thirteen! They actually got someone new!”
That’s not promising, but when I look back at Her, she just ignores me and walks off to join the other women around the catwalk leaving me to fend for myself. The slave serving the food waves me down, I think they want me to come down since everyone else has finished getting their food while I was looking around the room. Despite the shouting and audible increase in the chatter in the rest of the room no one tries to stand up and talk to me on my way to the counter. The food is just as simple and the portions just as small as every other meal. If anything, seeing it get rationed out makes it feel even more meagre. And then I turn around and stare. Where the fuck do I sit?
The classic problem that plagues cafeterias everywhere. Do I walk up and try to mingle with one of the groups? The cluster of three that includes the slave who shouted seems like it might be a safe bet, they clearly have some interest in me. Does sitting alone say that I’m nervous or does it read as hostile? Fuck. It’s high school all over again. At least here there is plenty of room for me to get some space. That’s what I need. Let them make the first move if they want to, but if not I’ll be safe, unassuming.
No one bothers me until people start finishing up and passing their trays and plastic utensils back to the girl in the kitchen, the girl I recognize as the same one who has been bringing me things in my cell. Before I have a chance to get up and do the same, a person with hair that’s been dyed bright red saunters over to me. They're the one who shouted. An arm wraps around my shoulders holding me into my seat.
“Howdy unlucky number Thirteen! Call me Scar. What’s your name?” The arm feels a lot less hostile and imposing now, just kind of overly familiar given the boisterous tone.
It takes me a second to find the words. “Alice. My name is Alice.”
Scar wears their feelings all over their face. Their brow furrows. “Alice huh? Is that… Your name or what they want you to say? Ya know you can tell me if you want. They won’t go very hard on a new victim if you only say it once.”
I recoil. “NO! I’m Alice. Only Alice.”
“Ok. Ok girl. Calm down. I get it. There are a few others like that here, folks that like the new name better than the old one. So new face, new story. What can you tell me? Where are ya from, how’d they gettcha?”
“I- Idaho. And… I don’t really want to talk about it.”
Scar nods with… false sageness. “I see. I see. Give and take huh? Well, they scooped me up in Austin Texas. Should have known that the Jane who pulled up was offering way, way too much money but… well ya gotta do what ya gotta do. For ten grand I figured it was gonna be something like watersports so I took a shower in her fancy hotel room and drank some wine she gave me. Boom. Next thing I’m here. So, if you don’t wanna share personal stuff, what about general happenings? I’ve been here for a year and seven or eight-ish months. So, tell me of the happenings in the big wide world. Who won the superbowl? How was the Barbie movie? Never got a chance to see it.”
Only one part of that registered at all. “Jane? Were you a…”
“Hooker? Yup.” They chuckle and pop the P. “Being the bisexual child of Texas evangelicals will do that to you. Everyone’s gotta eat somehow even. Say, have they shown you your file yet? Everyone here has one ya know. Kinda crazy how big mine was ‘spite me not having much of a paper trail for the year I was homeless.”
Scar is like a conversation machine with full throttle as the only setting and she rambles on for another solid five minutes as I eat. But my sleeve pulls up as I reach for my cup of water and the talking machine comes to a screeching halt. Their face falls. “Hey Alice, would you mind rolling up your sleeves a bit? I just- Please?” I can't think of any real reason not to. It’s not like my arms are dysphoric for me. Scar stays deathly serious as I bunch up the sweater. “Can you… Your legs too?” Again I pull up the thick fabric basically as far as it goes which is not much past my knee. “You’re back too? I understand if that one is uncomfortable but I want to be sure.”
I hesitate there. This could be the lead up to something cruel. “Scar, what is this about?”
“Just-mmm. I recognize that. You had the same look as some of the people I knew… looked. Please? I need to know?”
Hesitantly I turn away and pull the shirt up, being careful to not expose any of my upper chest to anyone in the rest of the room. Scar takes a sharp inhale through their teeth. “Is that… Is that enough? Can you tell me what this is about now?”
“What happened? How did… So much…” Scar’s hand brushes across my bare skin for just a moment before I flinch. Theres a moment of silence before they pull away and look up. By the time I pull my sweater back down and look the same direction Scar is focused on, they have another wide, winning smile painted across their face. “Hanna! Hanna Banana! How are you doing this fine fine morning!?”
The woman she is talking to is one of the fancy CEO types who must have come down from the catwalk. Two guards are trailing loosely behind her. “Scarlet, you just earned yourself ten for that tone, five for using my name and another five for whatever you were doing to the new girl. Alice, stand up, come here.”
I fumble as I try to pry myself out from where I’m wedged between the bench and the table. Her tone left absolutely no room for argument. “Sorry Ma’am. I’m sorry if that was against the rules. I didn’t mean to-” I cut off as Scar’s hand shoots out and grabs my forearm, just above the bandages, in an almost bruising grip keeping me from going toward Miss Hannah.
Scar… Scarlet’s mouth contorts into an exaggerated pout and she bats her eyes. “Oh come on Hannie! Lighten up! It’s a special occasion! A new face is a rare thing! Say! Actually, can I ask you a question?”
“No and-” The intimidating woman starts talking and takes another step closer as she does.
“Hannie?” Scar’s face gets frighteningly dark, like she’s filled with the overly calm kind of fury. “What the fuck did you people do to her? You said she’s new, that she got here less than two weeks ago but she looks like she’s been through a fucking warzone. I saw girls less traumatized after months on the street. She’s already scrambling to obey and she looked like she was afraid of getting hurt for even thinking about her old name. So I’m gonna ask again. What?! THE FUCK!? Did you do to her?”
The guards behind Miss Hannah begin to rush forward, one aiming to pull me away and the other circling to get behind Scar but they both stop as another voice comes from behind me.
“Silence Scarlet. We haven’t done anything to her, and how dare you take a tone like that with your betters.” The Reader. If Scarlet’s tone was cold then the Reader’s is a knife dipped in liquid nitrogen stabbing straight into the hearts of anyone who hears it. Scar is pinned beneath her gaze and seems genuinely cowed. I want to crawl in a hole and her rage isn’t even directed at me. “Alice is a rescue. We took her away from the… situation that caused all the injuries you saw. You can confirm it with her the next time you see each other but for now, I believe you should relax your grip and go with your trainer before you get yourself into any more trouble.”
Scarlet silently complies, standing up from the bench far more gracefully than I managed to earlier and moving to her trainer’s side. The trainer gives a silent nod that goes just a little too deep and borders on a half bow.
The Reader softens substantially as I turn around. “Am I in trouble Ma’am?”
She sighs and smiles. “No Alice, not at all. And Scarlet won’t really be either. Her biggest flaw, the reason she’s still down here after all this time is that she’s still too aggressive. It’s always on behalf of others but it’s still problematic enough to keep her from progressing. Violence and anger are never appropriate reactions for a good slave. You would do well to remember that, though I don’t think it will be a problem for you. Now, I’ll take you back to the cell so you can grab a change of clothes and then it’s time for the shower.”
Once we’re back in the cell she turns and uses one finger on my chin to tilt my head up until I make and hold eye contact with her. “Alice, we need to have a hard talk. That happens a lot doesn’t it?” She gives me a vaguely sad smile. “You’re going to be showering with the rest of the girls today. But the thing is that you’ll need to be restrained with cuffs and a waist chain. It just isn’t feasible for us to do what we do in the other shower. There are just too many factors, too many variables for it to be safe. And that’s not even mentioning the fact that the other girls might get jealous and act out trying to demand that they also get to shower without cuffs. So, obviously metal is out, leather technically could work. There are water proofing treatments these days, but I think these are probably the best option.”
She retrieves two thick bands of low elasticity rubber from her back pocket. Rubber cuffs?
“Would they go over the dressing bags Ma’am?”
“Exactly. Good girl. So clever. But that brings me to the next point. You saw Scarlet’s reaction to less than half your body. All the girls are going to see you naked so I feel like it’s probably best for you to simply introduce yourself and explain the basics of what happened so that no unpleasant rumors start to circulate instead of the truth.”
“What version of the truth will I be telling Ma’am?”
She sighs with relief. “That is the perfect question. So here’s the answer, you will tell them that you had a previous owner who was mistreating you and we rescued you from her. You can go into as much or as little detail as you like about the things Elizabeth did to you but there are a few things you are not permitted to mention. One is the name or even existence of Mistress Young. The girls on this level don’t know about her and they are not permitted to. Next is the fact that 0601 was present before you were brought here, and you will not mention anything about Elizabeth’s connection to this organization. She was an unfortunate experiment and it would be a shame if your fellow slaves developed… misapprehensions about things that won’t happen. Understand that a lie of omission is still a lie and you would be punished for bending things in this manner while addressing any of your betters but… in this case you’re protecting your fellow slaves from their own imaginations. It’s for their benefit and you’re following an order so in this one instance you are permitted to neglect some details. Clear?”
“Clear Ma’am.”
“Good girl. Grab some clothes. Let’s go.”
The walk to the showers is blessedly short. Even though my knee has been bothering me less the last few days I still don’t love walking with the brace. Of course the flip side of that is that it leaves me very little time to prepare myself for the fact that like thirty or more people are about to see me naked. Half the girls and their trainers are already there. The girls are stripping down and having metal waist chains fitted and linked to their metal cuffs. Just seeing so many sets is making me a little nervous, even though I know that I won't be on the receiving end of one. There's a cubby at the end of the right side of a half filled rack of identical ones. It takes me some time to work up the nerve and I rush through it once I get started. The Reader motions for me to turn and she puts the dressing bags on and fastens my waist chain and cuffs. She leads me by the chain to a bench and attaches a lead that forces me to stay seated next to some of the other girls-in-progress before leaving the room, probably to get changed.
One of the porcelains that was seated with Scarlet leans over. “What the hell happened to you girl? You’re more bruise than not.”
“I think I’m supposed to share that in a bit.” She seems content with that and shifts back.
Scarlet and her trainer are the last to arrive. They probably had to deal with whatever Scar’s punishment was before they could come. It takes a few minutes of tension filled waiting as the guards present stare at us all before the trainers come back. They’re wearing casual clothes, shorts and T shirts, things that mostly cover but wont be ruined by getting wet. The Reader comes up to me and unchains me, leading me to the front of the group with all eyes on my naked and battered body.
Highschool all over again. Thirty pairs of eyes putting me on the spot just like first day introductions. “Um… Hi? I’m Alice-” There are a few gasps as people realize that my name is literally burned into my thighs. “-and I’m supposed to tell you all what… made me look like this so that people don’t start speculating or whatever. Basically… I-was-kidnapped-raped-and-tortured-by-my-best-friend.” The whole sentence comes out like one big run on word that I squeezed out as fast as possible. “And then the people here kind of rescued me from her? So like, they didn’t… do this to me. It was all her. They’ve been treating my injuries and that’s why people haven't seen me for the two weeks since I got here, I was… recovering?” I look roughly at the Reader’s waist. “Is that enough Ma’am?”
She nods. “Yes Alice. I’m sure that wasn’t easy for you, especially where it’s so fresh.”
The trainers move as a group all unhooking their girls and lining them up. Each girl goes to a shower head that seems to be directly correlated to the place where they were seated on the bench. Mine is the one closest to the door, off to the right. All the trainers except the Reader line up on a slightly elevated platform near the middle of the room. Each one has a chair in front of them so they can shampoo and condition the girl's hair without getting wet.
Mystery Woman speaks gently. “Now, you are going to step into the steam. You need to get your whole body wet, especially your hair. Don't linger too long but you will need to get a little creative to get your armpits in the stream. Then you’ll come over to me and sit in the chair while I shampoo your hair. I’ll use a loofa to apply some body wash as well but you’ll be responsible for cleaning your ass since you can reach with your hands behind your back. And you do need to clean your ass. You would be surprised how many girls that come through who resist that part. Then you’ll rinse the shampoo and body wash off and come to me for conditioner. Easy enough?”
I nod. “Yes Ma’am.”
The shower proceeds pretty much exactly as she described, the biggest real difference from the med bay shower is that I can see the other girls in various stages of their feminization. Scarlet is pretty much the farthest along which makes sense, the Reader implied that she’s been down here the longest. There are girls with pretty much every body type here from small and petite, to tall and lanky, no one overly big and muscular though. Probably more effort and girls like that probably have a pretty limited market. There's only one girl in the room that I don't like the look of. She’s not the biggest in the room but she’s sharp. Thin enough that her muscles stand out under her skin and she’s quite toned. The part that worries me is the permanent scowl fixed on her pointed weaselish face. She seems to hate everyone and everything here and seems like the type who’s not afraid to make everyone else miserable just so that she can feel good because others are suffering more.
When it’s over the Reader dries me off and removes my cuffs, and leads me back to my cell before leaving for a bit. She comes back just before lunch time looking refreshed for some reason. “Time for some socialization before lunch. Scarlet will probably want to talk to you again, do you remember what to say?”
“I can describe how Elizabeth tortured me but don't mention Mistress Young or her connection to this place.” It’s not exactly hard to remember.
“Good girl. Let's go.”
When we get there and the leather transport cuffs come off Scarlet and her friends are gathered around one of the tables and she waves me over to come join them. And then I get ten whole minutes of genuinely lovely human contact. Having more people in the group makes Scarlet less overwhelming and it’s so nice to just chat.
And then like everything else it gets ruined. This time it’s ruined by a grating nasally voice behind me. “Fucking sissy.”
I turn and see the weasel from the showers behind me. Looks like I was right about him. “The fuck did you just say?”
“I said you’re one of the god damned sissies they keep bringing down here, the ones that dont fight back and secretly like being turned into a fucking girl.” He is rolling his shoulders back. He doesn’t deserve to be a woman yet, even in my head. That’s for good girls.
Farm work doesn't exactly build a cut physique but it does build muscle and it taught me how to put every single strand of that muscle into a powerful motion. So I take two steps and plant my feet.
I knock him on his ass in one punch.
We both stare at each other, more than a little stunned. I don’t think he was expecting that. Blood is already dripping down his face and… I think his nose isn’t quite the same shape that it was a few seconds ago.
And then I’m on the ground faster than I can process that anything happened. From my place beneath the bodies of the guards who tackled me I can see several sets of fancy shoes and slacks approaching. I don't think She’s gonna be happy…