LostBBoyBear Posted September 21, 2024 Posted September 21, 2024 Warning As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to a break with social normities. These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Humiliation Chastity and forced crossdressing Predominantly female domination (some male) Babying of adults Punishments (often unfair, degrading, and/or humiliating) Experimentation on humans Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives Mild language or use of expletives Depictions of death, illness, or handicaps Political themes associated with revolutions or desires of change or freedoms Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific acts to anything overtly sexual; however, some fetishes maybe touched on in this story more than my previous ones. Still, as usual, this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list here is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be warranted later if needed (though may not be added). If I deem any chapters to be too ‘triggering,’ I will issue another separate warning beforehand. Hey everyone! Welcome back to my little story corner on here. As I noted last time, this story is all about a maturity reform center for boys in a sort of alternative future from our own. Everything basically gets explained in the first chapter, so don’t worry there if you might be confused at all about this notion. It’s pretty easy, but for those of you wondering, I’m not going to lie… the phrase ‘girls rule, boys drool,’ is pretty apt for this story. Keep that in mind with this society’s mindset and a lot of things here will make more sense at least. Fair or logical from our own viewpoints may not always be accurate. Moving on, I do have to give credit where credit is due though. I saw this idea from a post that has been long deleted from ‘nomorepantsforme.’ I’m not even entirely sure it was their original idea either, but I want to give the acknowledgement where I can at least, since I really just couldn’t pass up the framework that I saw that day. I would gladly link the website where I originally saw these images posted, but it was a Tumblr account, and well… I’m pretty sure you all know what happened to it at this point. Still, I’ve expanded the story a lot since those initial postings, and everything pretty much takes on a life of its own after chapter three basically. Considering there are at least 36 chapters right now and this story takes place across a period of over three years during the plot, I would say buckle up, but I guess in the case for most of you, maybe get someone else who you trust to do that for you. All joking aside though, this story will take a bit of time to completely finish and put out on here. I definitely don’t have as much time as I used to, and that’s unfortunate, but I will work on this story as much as I can. I’ve already completed several sections, and I’ve got the plot all mostly ironed out by now, so that should make things easier, but I would just ask for your patience at this point. I can’t stick to a schedule, so I would just suggest staying vigilant for further updates. Looking ahead though, I will post another poll with the next chapter for the story you wish for me to write next. While some of you expressed a desire to move on away from the Strawpoll website where I posted the last poll, I think it was just too successful to stop it completely. I am still curious though about everyone’s continued thoughts, so I have left this poll up (which can be found at https://strawpoll.com/05ZdzWkrbn6). All that being said, if any of you wish to privately message me or post directly on here regarding your desires about polling or even my next story, I would count and read those responses/comments as well. Still, improvements to this system can always be made and I’m pretty open minded, so if any of you have a suggestion for polling in a different way for future stories, I’m very open to any ideas. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys the first chapter of this next story of mine! Chapter 1: Departure Day I clicked the recording the device, cleared my voice, and spoke up. “I’m an average guy in an average city who once lived an average life. I obeyed the law, never stood out from the crowd, and minded my own business as much as I could. I followed the rules and stayed out of trouble. For all intents and purposes, I never expected myself to be at the center of a sweeping change and then be asked to talk about it.” I paused and stopped the recording. Shuffling in my seat, a slight crinkle could be heard, but that was just everyday life for me now. I strained and looked back at Laura. “Is that okay? Do you think that’s what they want?” She smiled and nodded. “Of course. The people interested in how this whole thing went down just want to have a record of what happened. Lots of changes and all and your experiences should be recorded for future posterity. With everything that happened, someone is bound to ask questions about it all one day. So, my suggestion… there is no right and wrong. Just say what you think, sweetie.” I smiled back at her, her help through all this a constant in my life still, sighed, and then turned back to the recording device. I knew someone else would already be condensing my thoughts down later. Especially considering what had happened to me, Laura had suggested the recording device rather than me writing everything down. Writing everything down like that was just a bit too hard timing-wise these days… plus how I got here in the first place wasn’t helping matter either. I was already getting hungry for my midday snack... Still, I had to press on while everything was still fresh in my head. So, taking Laura’s advice, I pushed the recording button once more. I sighed again and leaned back into my chair. “Well, I could start earlier and explain a bit, but I suppose ‘Departure Day’ was where everything truly changed for me…” * * * The day is here at last and now there’s no more waiting. I’m 18, graduated from high school, and now it’s late August. Before everything changed a few years back, for someone like me, that meant a job, travelling the world, or college. It was a mark of maturity for everyone in this country or at least a sign that one’s life was moving forward. Now, however, being a guy, this time of year in my life can only mean one thing for me. I’m headed to a center, or what the government calls a ‘Juvenile Evaluation Center for All Males,’ located somewhere within 100 miles of me right now. Each had a different name and even reputation, but my fate to at least one of them was already sealed. And here I was all this time in my life over the past year, thinking that stupid law would be repealed by the time I reached 18 and then hit the beginning of the term in late August of the same year. I think every guy my age hoped the same thing… I mean, forcibly take a bunch of 18-year-old males and test their maturity as a barrier to enter society as an adult, or if they fail… then something else. A law like that in the ‘land of the free’ just had to be repealed. ‘Right?’ Wrong. Apparently fifteen years of a law enacted was just the right amount of time where most were still happy about the perceived benefits of the law, and any who weren’t, could still be told to ‘just give the law some more time to sink in’ and hope that later, it would become more normalized. Anyone told that last part wasn’t holding their breath… including me, especially now on ‘Departure Day.’ See, before fifteen years ago, no one had ever been to one of these centers, but now, every year after a male turned 18, they got sent off to a center and evaluated for their maturity the following August, whether they wanted to or not. Refusal meant an outright failure, so rebels against the law had almost altogether disappeared in the past 15 years. It was a harsh punishment and sentence for even those of us who went willingly, but everyone knew that if the given male candidate could pass, they would leave the center with a wealth of new information, a career path to a near guaranteed success, and a continuance of education or an already lined-up job fitting with the passion or vocation that they had chosen at the center. It was a mighty reward that ensured society’s continued success, here and even all around the world in most countries now, but for the less optimistic, rowdy, or fortunate bunch regarding their fate, they always knew about option B. Like an axe waiting to strike above our necks, option B always lingered there. A sudden breeze jostled through the open window in my family’s modest house located out in the suburbs. My parents, Henry and Emma, had married a year after college and found two successful jobs: a structural engineer for my mom and a landscape designer for my dad. They raised three kids as normally as possible, and we all lived perfectly normally until four years ago; a picture in the hallway still marked that day, which is where I now found myself lost in thoughts. “Are you tired and need a break from your regressed little one…” I quickly blocked out the noise coming from the family room where my dad was watching the last few minutes of the football game, now interrupted by an all-too-familiar commercial of the past 15 years, highlighting just how common the practice was now. I still found it weird that they hadn’t changed it since the law was first enacted, but by now, it was really more of a PSA than a strict commercial to convince people to comply with the law. Still, despite society’s more or less compliance these days and that the law might have even been seen as a common practice these days, it was an almost unmentionable topic in most households that had one son under 18… including this one. After all, the potential regression of a member of the family could be touchy for everyone involved. So, my family never talked about it… well, except for that one time… * * * My older brother, Ben, had gone to the center himself on his ‘Departure Day’ over two years ago. Like before, he had come back from the center to celebrate Thanksgiving with us, but unlike his usual upbeat and positive self, this time, we could all tell he was worried about something. Mom had been pestering him the whole time about his experience at the center, but he had remained continuously tight-lipped about it in front of anyone who dared ask. His face would darken for a moment, he would snap at us, and we would all move on. Two minutes later, it was like it had never happened. Still, I was just starting out in high school and a morbid curiosity burned within me to know more. Seeing the PSAs and the like about what was potentially going on there, I didn’t want to ask too many questions myself out loud. I was going in four years whether I liked it or not and knew I would find out then. Despite the questions buzzing around in my head, I didn’t need Ben to add to them to my steadily growing fears. Right after we gave our usual beginning thanks, we were just passing around the turkey and mashed potatoes, when he asked the question that we had all been dreading since he had first left. “Are you all actually okay with this whole regression law?” Mom’s face went white. Katie, our younger sister, forcibly busied herself with her cranberries, and Dad seemed sad all of a sudden. Again, fearing my own fate, I made sure I took a quick bite of stuffing to keep from saying my own feelings on the subject while also keeping an open ear to maybe slake one of the questions in my head. Regardless of the palpable tension though, no one spoke, so, the room remained quiet for an uncomfortably long period. Already starting to form a bit of an attitude towards these things though, Katie finally spoke up. “I think it can be sad but maybe also a good thing?” I wanted to break every one of her Barbies right then. She was a good kid, annoying, but kind in her own younger sister kind of way. ‘But this?’ She was a girl, which meant she could go and do what she wanted whenever she wanted to do it. The world was her oyster, but for me and Ben… it was a different matter altogether. “I agree with you sweetie,” my mom then interjected. “If it’s done right, and everyone’s happy, in the end, does it matter how?” My heart formed a tiny pencil-width crack. She had always supported Ben, Katie, and I in whatever we did, but now… I wasn’t so sure if she was on our side anymore. If this stupid law went the wrong way for either Ben or I, she would essentially be losing the sons that she and Dad had raised. If the worst happened, anything that had happened before would have just felt more like window dressing… ready to be removed and forgotten about forever when the time came to revert back to how we once were. Hayden down the street was a year ahead of Ben and seeing him as I went to school this year… my fears had started that night. “Darn right it matters!” My dad obviously had an opinion about the whole thing, and I felt a little justice on Ben and I’s side for once tonight in this whole matter, but the room quickly filled with a mounting argument on either side as well. “In my day, you grew one way, and that was toward the sky and then down to the grave. Not this grow up, grow down, then grow sideways business.” No one dared argue with him when he got like this. He was the best dad, but his stubbornness in certain matters was legendary. Finally, though, Ben broke the silence that had persisted since Dad had shouted out his opinion. “Good to know, Dad. Hard to argue with that logic I guess.” Ever the peace maker, I could tell that Ben just wanted the conversation to move on. Still, he then shifted his gaze toward me, “What about you little bro? You seem awfully quiet over there.” Everyone’s gaze suddenly fixated on me, and I shrunk back instinctively. I hated being the certain of attention, but I knew that the sooner I answered, the sooner all this could just be over with. “I… I guess I just don’t know,” I answered, shrugging my shoulders. “I guess if you’re happy with it, being in it yourself, then that’s what matters now. Honestly though… I just try not to think about it. Why worry about something that’s far off in the future for me, right?” I was lying through my teeth, but I didn’t want to admit to my family that I was outright terrified of the day I would leave for the center as well. I think Ben could tell I had just lied, but he didn’t push the matter any further. So, the conversation ended quickly after that, and it took a dirty joke from my sister and scolding from my mother for the family to begin to crack a smile again that night. * * * It wasn’t even the longest of conversations in the family, but that short period of time had lingered in my mind ever since then. It popped into my head every once in a while, but since I had graduated a few months ago, I could barely think of anything else. Even while we were all at the beach last month, it was hard to pull my eyes away from all the guys who had obviously gone through option B. Waddling around and looking no better than… ‘I just can’t say it…’ But I could see them clearly and I dreaded to think that one day, I could be just like them. ‘Shit! Stupid option B. Friggin’ crappy law!’ I tried to distract myself from thinking about that day at the beach again, but in this house, my averted gaze proved useless. Unfortunately, one only needed to view our neighbor playing in the front yard across the street to know just how bad things could get if one failed the program. Fortunately, though, after his three years at the center, my brother had apparently managed to avoid every outcome of option B, left the center, and then had never looked back or even talked about his time there. My mom had asked once for more details once he had graduated fully, but based on his own dirty look, she knew well enough to never ask again. Still, he had graduated. Determined to make the most of his life, since he had graduated from the center, he had taken his training at the center in stride and then took the remaining required courses at college and became a chemical engineer at a major company in the city. He didn’t live with us anymore but would still visit occasionally; like birthdays, holidays, and the occasional pre-planned stop and say ‘hi’, eat dinner with us, quickly catch up on everything, and then leave once more type of visit. My thoughts of my older brother’s success were soon interrupted by a loud screech outside. Knowing that sound anywhere by now, I quickly rushed to the front window. Of course, for Ben, he would also come on specialty days…like today, now commonly known as ‘Departure Day.’ As I quickly looked out into the street where I saw he had stopped and parked his used 2028 blue glow metallic Chevy Trailblazer, I could see him exit his pride and joy once more. Our parents bought that car for him in high school, I think honestly as a way for him to help with errands more than his own amusement at the time, but back then I honestly cared more about riding in the front seat at that point than the logistics of why. Further, I had even saved it and maintained it with Dad for him when he left the center. It was a symbol of hope of better days and its arrival her couldn’t have come sooner. Despite my feelings toward the car, our parents had been worried during those three years that he was away at the center, especially where they had noticed… changes, but through it all, that car stood as a testament to his success and our hope of him passing. So, him coming back, it was a wonderful feeling when he finally pocketed the keys after so long and then took off for college with a noted swell of happiness all around him. Since then, our family had always joked and been curious if he cared more about leaving that place or just seeing his old car again. Still, my thoughts quickly shifted back to Ben today as he trudged through the lawn and wore his usual khakis and button-down shirt, a lanyard now hanging and bobbing off his neck and body with each step from his job in the city. His normally neutral, or at least reassuring face, stood grim and lost in thought. It was an unusual look for him after the center and the subsequent posting to his new job, but I quickly recognized it as his typical reaction to anything to do with the center. Intrigue had run rampant through my mind before with what had happened to him there, but now, being less than an hour from my own ‘Departure Day,’ that look on his face only twisted up my stomach in fear as I opened the door to greet him. Upon seeing me at the door, however, his expression soon changed to the softer and more welcoming expression I had come to know since he had graduated. For today, though I still questioned his previous look, his usual demeanor was a comfort to me in a way I could never fully explain, but gladly accepted, nonetheless. “Hey there bro! You waiting for your older brother to give you one last nuggie for the road?” Not having time to mount an objection from me, he lunged, bolted past the door, and quickly grabbed me, and proceeded to ruffle and give me his usual annoying but loving nuggie to my hair; a tradition of ours since I had at least tried to start competing with him after I entered middle school. “Ah, quit it, you big loaf!” I growled, trying to swat his large hands off me and away from my head. He stood at a decent and even six feet tall, while I had inherited my mother’s side genes and stood just shy of only five foot eight inches without much chance by now of stretching any higher. “What’s the magic word?” he lovingly but mockingly asked. “Please,” I gasped. With his usual chuckle, he let me go and semi-twirled me to face back at him. Sputtering for a second, I tried to motor my way through our greeting to think about anything else other than the center. “It’s good to see you, bro. How’ve you been? It’s been a few weeks now since we last talked. Work? Date? Is she hot? Does she have a younger sister or some younger friends who don’t mind vertically challenged company? Spill. Come on, don’t leave me hanging!” Ben quickly took on a defensive posture. “Woah, woah, woah there. Slow down.” We both grinned at each other. “It’s nothing really. Honestly, it’s just work for me, buddy. I’ve been working on a project for a new government contract, and it’s been taking all my time up lately.” He lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned in toward me, “I’m not really supposed to tell anyone, but if this thing works, dirty fuel emissions will be knocked down another 30% in a few years’ time and run at least 80% more efficiently without being more dangerous or resource dependent.” “Woah,” I whispered back, reciprocating his lean in. “That’s really cool. Did you find some alien tech or something?” Ben gave me his usual crooked smile whenever I made one of my cornier jokes. My brand of humor annoyed him when we were younger, but ever since the institute, he seemed to not mind as much anymore. “Nah, we just took some of the existing fuel, ran it through a mesh fiber we just developed…” Ben continued on like that for a bit. Science was always his strong suit, even before the center, high school, or even middle school for that matter. He was the kid who asked for a microscope for Christmas and then proceeded to actually use it, rather than just collect dust in a closet somewhere like mine had done when I was ten. Still, despite my lack of scientific talent, I was proud of him for what he was doing, and further on a day like today, it gave me a bit of hope I would be just as successful in my own way after the center, rather than be doomed for option B. “…and that’s it. Nothing else to it,” he finally finished. “Right… simple,” I mocked. “Let me just call Curie or Einstein to translate for me, and we’ll call it simple then.” Ben rolled his eyes. “Haha. Well, maybe you’re right for just this once about what I’m doing lately.” His eyes shifted and his crooked smile returned. “Who knows? Maybe little green men did lend me a bit of a hand this go around.” We both got a good chuckle out of that. It reminded me of how much I missed having my brother around, and maybe it was the prospect of me leaving for three years with few visits to my family in between, but I was feeling his absence more lately. His subsequent return today had elevated that feeling even more. See, I tended to close up around new people unfortunately, but I compensated for it later by usually being far more outgoing with people once I got to know them. It wasn’t always easy, but I never really had to try too hard with Ben. I had always known my brother, and despite a few arguments now and then, I knew I could always count on him and that had been a safety net for me for years now, even when he was at the center. Unfortunately, the back of my mind rationalized that after today, I was about to go to a place where few of those longer-term relationships could even be possible. I knew, especially without seeing my brother very often, I would have to try even harder with anyone I met at the center. “Earth to John. Earth to John. Calling John Clark,” my brother echoed, trying to get my attention and even going so far as to snap his fingers in front of my face. I quickly saw his snapping hand wave in front of my face, and I quickly exited my previous thoughts. I hadn’t realized I had been drifting away so badly. “Huh? Oh… yeah… crud, you say something?” Ben rolled his eyes again. “Nothing really.” He sighed. “I was just seeing if I had lost my brother in some kind of trance or whatnot. I mean, you were really in the zone there for a minute. Where’d you go? Everything okay?” “It’s…it’s nothing,” I shuffled my feet and averted his gaze. My lying game was not on point, and I knew Ben could see right through me… he always did. Still, I didn’t want him to know I was terrified about what was about to happen to me. Luck was never one of my strong suits, and in a place like the center… from what I could find out, I knew you needed a hefty chunk of luck in your back pocket to get through it. “Right… and Dad’s not going to burn anything he puts in the oven this year.” His sarcasm practically screamed at me. We both knew full-well that our dad was infamous for burning anything and everything he ever put in the oven at least. He was a master griller, but at one point, the fire department knew us by our first names growing up when mom ever went on one of her business trips. Despite some of those dinners being ruined, I looked back at that time and by now it was almost comforting to know some things would never change. At the same time though, with his sarcasm, I knew that I had been caught in my lie. “Come on, John. It’s me here. What’s up?” Ben asked, now placing a hand on my shoulder. Again, I didn’t want to show my fear, but I knew that of everyone in this house, Ben might be the only one who actually got what I was feeling and going through today. “It’s… it’s the center.” Ben’s hand dropped from my shoulder and his face clouded over again at the mention of that place, adding further knots to my already twisted stomach. I didn’t want to tell him, knowing that would have been his reaction, but I also knew my time was running out. I almost tried to take it back, but Ben sighed and then took a big breath. “Look, about that place... There’s something you should know...” I leaned in closer. “The heads of the departments, the guy in charge, anyone who can move some minds there… they’re important.” It was an odd way to put that, but I leaned in, wanting to know more. If I could have an advantage going in, I knew I needed to exploit it as soon as possible. “Why? What do you mean, and why them?” “That place is…complicated.” His eyes briefly looked like they were miles away and I wondered what he was thinking back on. “I don’t know which center you’re going to exactly with all the new ones they’ve been building around here lately, but they’re all about the same, at least with their end goals. To get out of there, all you need to do is…” “Eeeeeeee! He’s here! He’s here!” a voice shouted from above us. I didn’t need to see a face to know where that sound came from; I had lived with it for the past 15 years and two weeks. It was my baby sister, Katie, and she still was at least excited to see Ben when he came over. To be honest though, while Katie and I were closer when we were younger, we had both drifted apart during the past few years. I think she was still too immature for me, and I was probably too overbearing for her, but she was still family… which made some of her new views even harder to cope with though. Digging deeper, I knew part of the tension between us had come from her being a girl and me being a boy. That argument probably sounded stupid and even immature, but like I had thought on Thanksgiving, it meant a great bit of difference in the modern age. Those not strictly identifying with one gender or another were given tests in the years leading up to their own ‘Departure Day.’ A few guys even tried to ‘fake’ identifying as girls initially, but after they were caught, they were sent straight to the center and were ‘deemed perfect for one of the punishments there,’ or at least that’s what made the papers from a statement the judge had made at the end of their trial. No one but the accused and their families knew what that meant exactly, but the government had assured everyone that ‘they had gotten what they deserved.’ Regardless though, gender mattered in this new world of ours. “I can’t believe he actually made it!” She sounded so triumphant, and I briefly wondered if she was looking forward to essentially being an only child in this house for the next few years. Being the youngest, she didn’t have it the easiest growing up with two older brothers, but her life was infinitely easier than Ben’s had been and mine was about to be, so I never felt guilty when Mom or Dad took Ben or I’s side when we were growing up. “You think you would have learned some timeliness when you were at the center, huh?” I could hear Ben’s clenched fist crack a bit, but I could also see he was desperately trying to not make a scene with her on my big day. Still, her comment struck me hard as why this whole mess had started in the first place. Simply put, males had been deemed too much of a problem for society as a whole, call it genetics or hunting instincts or whatever, but the government decided that it was best for the new generations to be put through a test of sorts. If they passed, they would be ahead of where they might have otherwise been, but if they failed, society could deal with them accordingly and ‘neutralize the threat.’ Or that’s at least that’s how they justified the law initially. It was a close vote, but the law had passed. Women, like my sister or my childhood crush and neighbor, Laura, could do anything they wanted after they graduated high school. Most ended up in prominent positions and few ever thought of repealing the laws once they were in power. For the men who eventually passed, they had the same opportunities, but oddly, they never seemed to want to repeal the law either. I always wondered why, but being my ‘Departure Day’ already, I knew I couldn’t fight what was coming. “Oh, hush Katie! He’s here and that’s the important thing.” My mom shuffled from the back of the house where she had been preparing cookies for my sister’s bake sale tomorrow and looked at us with a wide smile, as if she was relieved to know we were both still here. I glared at the mixing bowl in her arms, as I felt my sister should have been making her own cookies for the sale, but not wanting another argument with her about her apparent immaturity again, I had simply removed myself from the equation. Instead, I had tried to take the day to try and calm myself down, but with everything ahead of me and all my questions still, it hadn’t worked. “Henry! Henry!” my mom then called out to the backyard where my dad had been the sky, I knew it was likely just had to do with the rain coming later this afternoon. Another person might have gotten upset that the patriarch of the family would grumble about seeing his wife or his children, but it was just on brand for him. He loved us all in his own way, but as he had told us countless times before, rain and gardening were only good together if one didn’t have to weed in a downpour. As if thinking the same thing, Ben and I just scoffed under our breath over his delay in seeing us both, Ben for just arriving, me for leaving soon. Our mom turned back to us. She might have made an excuse if we were other company, but she just rolled her eyes and ran to hug Ben quickly. It was a nice little moment and not even my sister’s entrance and continued distance from both Ben and I, and then our dad’s grumbled annoyance could hurt that. We were all together today, and as my mom pointed out, it might not be like this for a while. I knew I was the reason for that, and my stomach ached a bit in fear over what was coming for me. “How about we take a picture?” Mom suggested. We had done the same thing with Ben, and as if to confirm her reasoning, she pointed to a nearby picture that we had taken on the day that he had left as well. It might have been a bit of a morbid tradition, but most families took one last photo nowadays… just in case. One only had to look outside at our neighbors across the street, the Killian’s, to understand just how much things could change from one’s ‘Departure Day’ to the end of it all. “Alright everyone,” Dad said after setting up the camera on top of the tripod. He liked things old school sometimes, and his 2019 camera was a perfect example of that. Mom always suggested the digital camera on her phone instead, since it was much faster, but he always insisted for moments like these that an ‘actual camera’ was better. “I’ve got a five second delay and… Ben.” Mom and I shot our looks to my older brother. He was playing around with Katie’s hair, clearly trying to get a rise out of her. “You stop that right now,” Mom scolded to him. “You know better than anyone that we don’t have much time today.” Ben’s hand snapped back to his side, and his head drooped down slightly. “Right. Sorry…” Again, I could see that same look of repressed pain on his face. ‘I’d give anything to know his thoughts right now…’ Still, our dad just grumbled a bit and then clicked the photo before running over to the other side of our mom. “Alright. Chins up and smile this time everyone!” Not wanting to waste any more time, we all behaved perfectly and made sure one shot was all it took. Running back, our dad gave a thumbs up and the family dispersed for a moment. Looking at the time myself, I knew the bus would be here soon for my ‘Departure Day.’ I saw it pass by every year, but I knew that today was my turn. So, wanting to make sure everything was packed, I went back up to my room. Not ten minutes later, I heard a knock at my door. “Come in.” I was hoping it was Ben so that maybe I could ask him some more questions like I was going to before our sister interrupted and alerted everyone that he was here, but it was only my mom. “Everything packed already?” she asked, her worried expression coming through clearly. She had already gone through this before and she probably knew the statistics weren’t on my side. It was estimated that at least one of every three guys that went into the program failed it. My brother had passed, and while I could still be the one that made it, my odds weren’t as good now. Zipping my single suitcase, I nodded. “Yeah… I just wanted to check I had everything that was on the list again.” I gestured to my bed where a single white paper was, listing the school supplies and what I should bring or not bring. It was just one of the questions I had for Ben… I wondered why things like clothing had to be kept at home. “Doesn’t seem like much, huh?” My mom had helped me a bit with the list, but I had insisted on maintaining some independence with it and purchased most of the things myself. I could tell that her seeing my packed bag now was already starting to get to her. “Yeah… but it’s not forever, right?” I wanted to stay hopeful for her, even if I wasn’t myself, but my mom’s expression still remained fearful and full of worry. “Right… right. It’s not forever…” She and Ben had gotten closer during his time at the center, and for the first time, I wondered if she actually knew more about his time there than the rest of us. I wanted to ask today again, but when I first did on the day I got my acceptance letter, she had quickly shut me down, calling their moments ‘private.’ She didn’t speak to me for the rest of the night, so not wanting to repeat that, I remained silent. “Well, let me help you bring your bag downstairs at least,” she offered. Seeing it as allowing her to be part of this day in her own way, I let her do that much at least. Downstairs, Ben and Dad were already waiting by the front door and were debating about postage and a forwarding address. “No, he’s going to be the one near Dawsonville,” Dad argued. “No way. I was sent there and that was already a few years ago. There’s no way he would be sent to that one.” Ben seemed supremely confident in his answer, but I knew that neither really knew. “Way more likely to be near Judgeton.” “But that’s on the other side of the city!” my mom shrieked, now clearly listening in, nearly dropping my suitcase from the shock of me being even further away than Ben had been. “Maybe it’s Smacktown,” my sister calmly suggested, flipping through another page of her teen romance novel while sitting nearby in the living room. “I think you mean Smeckton, Katie…” my brother corrected. “Whatever…” Our sister quickly dove right back into her book, not caring if she was right or wrong. “You don’t really think he’ll be sent to that one, do you, Ben?” my mom asked worriedly. Ben hesitated, Mom seemed petrified, and Dad stayed eerily silent. The silence was nearly killing me, and I had enough with the questions already bubbling up inside of me. I wanted… needed to know why everyone was acting so strange about Smeckton. I needed one less question in my head before I left. “Hold on… what’s wrong with that place? Is there something I should know?” Everyone squirmed for a moment, but Ben ultimately sighed and came over to me before placing his hand on my shoulder like he usually did to comfort me. “I’m not sure I should even be telling you this… probably not even going there, but because you asked… the Smeckton center is one of the original locations. It’s far away from pretty much everywhere except the town of Smeckton. It’s…” Ben quickly looked distant as if recalling an old painful memory. “Well, it’s strict.” I could then see the flash of panic in his eyes, and I wanted to know more, but by then, I knew my questions would either kill my nerves or only lead to more questions. Truth is though, no one knew where I was headed until I sent them a letter the first day. For all anyone knew, I could be sent to the center up North by Suttonburg, or the one to the west beyond the mountains in Diana City, or one of the several others within 200 miles of here, the max radial distance as required by law now. Looking down at my feet now, I was reminded by how little I actually knew going into the center. Seeing my single suitcase next to them, all I really knew was that I could pack it and a single backpack with whatever non-banned items, such as the usual cadre of weapons, drugs, and all, that I could stuff in there. Further, no cell phones were allowed, and the school would provide a tablet with a keyboard to be used for the duration of my time there that they would heavily monitor. Normally, if this was some horror movie, that would have been a giant red flag and I would be screaming at the main character to bail as soon as possible, but going to the center was the law now, so my red flags had to be damned. Regardless, I lastly knew that before 1 PM, a bus or van would show up and take me away. Everything else I knew was only rumors, mostly pertaining to option B, and I didn’t want to dwell on those for very long. It turns out I didn’t even have long to dwell on my thoughts even if I wanted to. Just as the clock chimed to announce that it was 12:30, the screeching of van tires could be heard outside. All jokes and conversations going on around me instantly died. We all looked to the front of the house with dread. While my brother’s tires an hour ago now had screeched and seemed to represent a hope or a sense of life and joy, this screech seemed more like the pained echo of the death of all hope, like some wailing spirit from the bowels of all that was bad in the world. Gulping, I went to the window first and pulled back the curtain to confirm that my greatest fear so far in life had now arrived and was waiting to take me away. The tiny bus was white and painted with the official logo for the ‘Juvenile Evaluation Center for All Males’ organization. Like the pale horse of death, it was coming to take me away to my ultimate doom. Though it was never actively talked about, that van was the source of nightmares all around the world for any guy who had just turned 18. With its arrival at their house, the horrors of fate of every guy out there now came as well. Even the guys who eventually passed had to go through this particular gauntlet and whether they admitted it or not… doubt crept into everyone’s minds who stepped onboard. What awaited us on the other side when we eventually exited that van was a mystery to anyone who hadn’t lived it. For those that made it, like my brother, they never talked about it. So, for someone like me, it only made things worse. “It’s here…” My words tumbled out of my mouth like I was announcing that the executioner had just arrived and was ready to lop off my head for committing treason. My family looked equally pained… almost as if they were never going to see me again. Still, our mom quickly launched into me and gave me a huge hug. Our dad soon followed, and even Ben and Katie joined in as well. It was supposed to be comforting, but not even remembering the last time every single member of my family hugged me… it didn’t help my nerves. Finally, though, the bus honked, and everyone let me go. “I guess I’ll see you all at Thanksgiving, right?” I wasn’t even sure about that at this point. Apparently, some didn’t even last that long in the program. “We will, but until then, keep your chin up, John,” my dad said with a swill of pained emotion in his voice. “Listen to them but don’t let them get to you.” “He’s right,” Ben added. “Just follow the rules, and before you know it, it will be done and will just seem like a bad dream.” His old look of pain resurfaced again, and I felt that blasted queasy feeling in my stomach bubble up once more as well. My mom, tears beginning to form in her eyes, gave me a small plastic bag full of homemade cookies. “For the road,” she said, seemingly only seconds away from losing it altogether. “Share them with anyone on there. Try and make a friend early…” she dabbed her eyes briefly. “But we’ll see you soon, okay? We love you.” Not able to form any words at all anymore, I just nodded and turned to my sister. For once in a long time, I didn’t see annoyance in her eyes. I wasn’t sure what I was seeing, but she then finally spoke up at last. “Just make it home again, okay?” Abrupt and not really comforting but caring in her own way. It was something, so not really sure what else to do, I simply nodded again and tuned back to everyone else. I cleared my throat and finally found my words again. “Well, wish me luck and see you all soon… I love you all…” It felt like such a weak goodbye, but I could feel my fear gurgling up in my body already and another honk signaled my need to leave anyways. I needed to keep it together, and by now, even if the driver hadn’t just honked again, I knew that I just needed to get on the bus and leave quickly. Prolonging the goodbye was just painful now. So, I donned my previously packed backpack, grabbed my single suitcase, and headed out the door. I then quickly rushed to the bus handed the driver the pass that had been sent to me in the mail last month along with the checklist of what I could, couldn’t, and had to bring with me. “John Clark?” the bus driver asked gruffly as I stood in front of the open door after giving him my ticket. I quickly nodded my head and kept my mouth shut. “Good.” He then placed my ticket in a bin next to him and turned back to me. “No funny business once you’re on board, ya’ hear? One step out of line and you start the center with one giant demerit.” His eyes glared for a moment and then oddly became softer. “Trust me, kid. You don’t want that. Those who start off with that almost never make it to the end.” I gulped but still nodded. “Y… yes, sir. No funny business from me. I swear.” A small grin appeared on his face, and he used his thumb to point to the back of the bus. “Good. Now, wave bye to your family and find a seat in the back. You have 30 seconds.” Not even thinking, I turned back to my family, all still huddled on the front porch, and gave them one last goodbye wave. I knew that it was the last time I was going to see them until the first holiday break over Thanksgiving. It was the longest stretch of time away from home at the center on average, but still, I couldn’t help but drift away from all that and feel a little strange about not seeing Laura or any of my other friends here to wave me off like Ben’s had. I was comforted in the fact that I had said goodbye to each of them already. I also knew Laura had already headed off to college and per the law, my friends were going to their own separate locations, but all this still felt strange. It didn’t feel like my life or that all this was even real, but as soon as I neared the bus and saw a few passengers already seated there as well… somehow, everything began hitting me all at once that all this was very much my new life and not just some horrible dream. Coming out of my thoughts and seeing my family still, I could already tell that mom was starting to break down and that Ben and Dad were trying to comfort her. It wasn’t the cheeriest of goodbyes, but still, it felt nice when each, even Katie, waved back to me and flashed me symbols of love and luck. It was a nice moment, but with the clock counting down and the bus already humming back to life, I waved one last time and then found a spot in the back. A sputter and a small screech later, the bus was off, and my old life was left in the dust behind me. About 20 minutes later, we had picked up two other guys and were now headed into the mountains to the west of the city. ‘Definitely not Dawsonville then…’ I sat back and tried to put my own fears out of my mind as buildings and main highways soon gave way to trees, hills, and valleys. “Name’s Bill.” The voice seemed to come out of nowhere, but I then saw a red headed guy looking right back at me. I then saw his hand arched back over the seat and extended right to me. “Oh, uh, I’m John.” I quickly shook his head. “Good to meet you.” “Hey,” another voice to my left called out. “I’m Luke.” Bill and I turned over to him. His letter jacket seemed an odd choice to bring, since everything would either be burned or shipped back to our houses, but admittedly, there was a part of me that wondered if it was almost like his safety net against whatever was coming or a reminder of better times. Still, Bill and I smiled and quickly welcomed another into our midst. Likely sharing the same apprehensions about where we were headed, we quickly bonded, though admittedly, Mom’s cookies also helped smooth things along. “So, any guess as to why the roommate agreement we signed said, ‘until graduation or one of you departs?’” I had wondered the same thing myself, but it had been a question I was definitely too nervous to even attempt to ask Ben about. “I don’t know… kind of didn’t want to think about it.” “Fair enough,” Bill noted. “I just couldn’t get it out of my mind. I’ve seen some of the older guys in my neighborhood and well…” Luke and I nodded. We both knew what he was implying. “Same here,” Luke said quickly. “This one guy still wets the bed in my neighborhood. Apparently, his parents still consider him a ‘good’ outcome. How messed up is that?” “Very,” Bill agreed. Both turned to me, waiting for my answer, but I couldn’t help but feel differently… As if fate was stepping in, I quickly saw a sign for products to help caregivers with those who had failed the program and were doomed to option B. It was a cheery and even gaudy display of their products with a guy posed off to the side seemingly enjoying them. It stood in stark contrast to the dark and swirling clouds behind it. “Well, all things in perspective, I think it is actually…” I said, turning back to the two guys who I hoped would be my friends. Unfortunately, both looked at me like I had bugs crawling from my ears. “Still messed up, definitely, but… it could be a lot worse.” “Worse than bedwetting?” Luke seemed shocked, but Bill remained quiet for a moment. I thought back to his earlier reference to the older guys in his neighborhood. I nodded. “Much worse.” I sighed and specifically remembered the Killian’s. “My neighbors… we were really close with them. My older brother, Ben, was about as old as their only kid, Franklin, so they became friends pretty quickly growing up. Got even closer when Ben was there for him when his dad died.” “So, what does that have to do with this whole thing?” Luke asked impatiently. “Well,” I continued, “they went to the center together. Lasted over two years even, but then, one day, Ben came home… Franklin didn’t.” “What happened?” I could already hear the nervousness in Bill’s question. He had every right to be and I suspected that despite his question, he already knew the answer. “Ben graduated,” I said, with a feeling of hope that maybe I could as well, but that hope was also dashed because of Franklin. “Franklin didn’t. And now… he spends his days like any other diaper-filling and drooling toddler out there who went with option B… and that’s on his good days. So yeah… considering what could happen, bedwetting isn’t too bad.” Ben and Luke seemed horrified about that outcome and sat back in their own seats, too shocked to say anything more. I had forgotten that outcomes like those weren’t exceedingly common everywhere, but it was a reality that I knew everyone on the bus would have to come to grips with it sooner or later. As if on cue, lightning thundered in the distance as we rounded a corner, and my eyes turned to the distant rocky peaks and curving road we were now on. Staring out, a sign soon came into my view. It was hard to see at first, but a closer flash of lightning illuminated the wording perfectly; Smeckton – 14 Miles… Smeckton Institute and Juvenile Evaluation Center for Males – 15 Miles. I gulped hard at the realization of where the bus was now headed. My pulse began to race, and I closed my eyes, trying to shut out this new piece of bad news. This blasted program was bad enough, but from the little of what Ben had told me about Smeckton… my odds for passing, if its apparent reputation was anything to go off, had just plummeted. I hadn’t even made it to the center yet and already my luck was turning sour. I couldn’t imagine lasting another three years, but I knew that I had to try at least. 12 1
kerry Posted September 21, 2024 Posted September 21, 2024 Another gripping opening to what will surely be another outstanding story. I'm hoping the appearance of Laura in the opening means that at least he won't end up like Franklin in the end.
Diaperingdaddy Posted September 22, 2024 Posted September 22, 2024 I'm afraid this is another one of those stories that I have to check for updates every day! Love it!
Guilend Posted September 22, 2024 Posted September 22, 2024 Definitely an interesting concept. I'm definitely going to be keeping up with this one. I am curious if every woman has decided to just go along with it. I doubt it, just curious what happened to the women that opposed the new laws. Did they get tossed in prison, a reform center or where they publicly humiliated and treated as they would a disobedient man to help cement the idea that men are beneath them.
LostBBoyBear Posted September 23, 2024 Author Posted September 23, 2024 Hey everyone! I have put up a new poll for the next story, which you can find below. As this story is about 36 chapters as of today, this one will be up for a while, but I figured it might be handy with the varied responses I’ve gotten back from you all regarding the polls. As I mentioned before though, if you feel more comfortable leaving a comment here or as a private message to me, I will count these as well. Additionally, like before, this poll will be shut down right before I post my final chapter, and further announcements will be made regarding this when the time gets closer. https://strawpoll.com/LVyK2e4zbZ0 Now, here are the following story choices: Bethany Set as a semi-sequel to The Opening, follow former drug runner, Bethany, as she strives to find herself a better life that has been promised in the newly discovered dimension, tentatively called, ‘The Amazon Dimension,’ though some have begun calling it another name due to the ever-increasing rumors of something awaiting all portal Littles on the other side. Join Bethany as she looks to turn her life around there and maybe even find a redemption of sorts and something else in the most unexpected of ways. Watch out though, in this new world, new and even greater dangers than the ones she left lurk around every corner. Peter Age Regression Story For a yet to be named story, follow Peter as he deals with a world and a life that has been infected with the age regression virus. Coming off the heels of a terrorist attack, grapple with Peter as he tries to cope with his descending age and the realities that come along with it. While he greatly enjoys many of the benefits that come with a younger body, watch as his life unfolds where he discovers that with youth, more vitality is only a benefit to the several complications and restrictions that come along with it. Only time will tell if he bounces above or below the age where one begins to lose themselves truly to the whims of their new younger body. A Conspiracy in Peirama Shown as both a prequel and a sequel to Project Nurture, follow Ashley as she comes over to the DD from her job as an investigative journalist from Earth. What starts out as a simple paid retreat for her news company soon evolves into the story of her life. Already suspicious of why so many seem to stay in this dimension, Ashley quickly switches into her investigative reporter self to find the truth when she begins to notice several oddities that simply can’t be passed off. The only problem though… her curiosity gets the best of her, and she soon finds herself the Little of a seemingly friendly couple in some strange town out west. Determined still with her story, follow Ashley as she investigates this strange place from the inside and witness her discovery of the truth or if there is such as a thing as going too far for the pursuit of a story. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 2: Welcome To Your Home for The Next Three Years I couldn’t believe my luck as we wound around the last of the many curves getting to our home for the next three years. Each center had their own reputation, but Smeckton… Smeckton was in a league of its own. Formerly a male-only college, it quickly found that with the new ‘maturity laws,’ it simply couldn’t sustain itself as that type of institution. Within the first year of the law’s passage, it quickly converted to take on their new breed of students. Everyone knew that much about it at least, but everything else… one could only speculate as to which rumors were actually true or just people trying to scare you. “It kind of looks nice, right?” Luke said, his voice full of hope. Neither Bill nor I responded, but from his worried face, I could tell that Bill had likely heard some of the rumors about this place like I had. Even if only half of them were true, I very much doubted making it through all three years here. The bus then screeched to a halt. Already, about a dozen or so buses were lined up and offloading their occupants in front of us. Most of the guys I saw seemed nervous, but a select few appeared oddly confident as they stepped off. It didn’t take me long to see that most of them looked like they had come from money and that they also stuck close together. “Alright. Everyone off! Smeckton Institute right this way!” the bus driver briskly announced, quickly opening the door to the outside. Thunder crackled in the distance, but considering we still hadn’t seen any rain, I passed it off as simply heat lightning arching over our heads. Still, I could see that it was spooking a few on the bus, including Bill. Not wanting to make a big deal out if it, I said nothing. Each of us then hauled our single suitcase and backpacks off the bus. It was my first breath of fresh air in almost two hours, and it felt good, but the looming sign overhead announcing ‘Smeckton Institute and Juvenile Evaluation Center for Males’ quickly put a damper on my mood. Before anyone even had a chance to breathe in the fresh air and get oriented though, I saw a dark-haired figure quickly approach us. Unlike some of the other adults approaching groups from other buses, she actually seemed kinder and less formal. Most of the other adults seemed to be strait-laced and wearing suits or dresses. The woman approaching our group instead wore a shirt adorned with at least a half-dozen images of flowers, and I swore I could see a few specks of paint glistening over her sleeves. She soon stopped in front of us and smiled widely. “Welcome to Smeckton Institute!” Her pearly white teeth and kindly eyes felt in stark contrast to the gloom of the day and the years ahead of us here. Also, considering what we were about to go through, I couldn’t tell if her friendliness was just a front to lure us in or if she was genuinely a nice person. I think I wasn’t the only one trying to piece that together, because no one said a word back to her. Her smile faded, but her kind eyes remained. “That’s okay. First day jitters I suppose.” Her eyes then flicked behind us and she waved eagerly. “Thank you, Earl! I can take them from here if you need to take off.” Without missing a beat, the bus sputtered to life and screeched and hissed off into the distance. We were now officially here to stay. Once the dust had settled and the squealing of the bus’ tires couldn’t be heard, the woman waved in front of her face and gazed back at us. “Well then! I guess introductions are in order first, huh?” No one moved an inch, and I’m pretty sure a few of the guys had even stopped breathing for a moment. The woman just smiled as if she thought are actions were cute. Knowing about option B, I wasn’t sure if I felt comforted by that gesture or not. “Well, anyways, my name is Ms. Diaz. I’ll be one of your teachers here in charge of creative outputs.” “Creative outputs?” one of the guys nearby to me skeptically asked. She nodded. “That’s right. As you will find, some of your teachers here will be with you all three years, while others will only be with you a short time before selecting your specialty. Don’t worry though… you’ll see me all three years you are here.” “So, what is it that we’ll actually be creating then?” Luke asked, his skepticism coming through as well. “Well, that entirely depends on you all,” Ms. Diaz explained. “In the beginning, it will just be the basics of sculpture, painting, drawing… things like that. As you move on though, it could be more specialized activities such as music composition or professional painting techniques. It really just depends on how you all progress or what you’re interested in.” She then paused and looked out over the group. “I know my specialty here might seem foolish or a waste of time compared to someone like Mr. Bellbody for Math.” She gestured over to a tight-faced man wearing a tweed jacket directing another group. “However, as you all continue here, you might come to appreciate the… less strenuous tasks in my class.” Her face then seemed to turn sad. “For some of you, it might be more of a chance for art therapy. I hope not, but…” she quickly trailed off, and everyone knew exactly why art therapy could be needed; a student here on the road to option B. With that realization, if it wasn’t for the rushing of students in front of us and the crackle of the thunder behind us, I’m pretty sure you could have heard a pin drop. After a moment though, Ms. Diaz shook her head and then resumed her cheery disposition. “No need to dwell on all that your first day though.” She then waved her hand back toward her at us. “Come on. Lots to do today. You all are the last group to arrive, which means we have less time for our tour, but there might not be a huge line at administration when we eventually get there later.” She then took off, and whether we wanted to or not, we followed her and passed under the institute’s sign. Being in the back, I could see everyone in our group look up at it in dread. Soon after though, the brick fencing and trees parted to reveal a fairly large campus given the number of students I saw exit the bus earlier. Some buildings appeared to be at least a century old, covered in chiseled stone and ivy, while others looked barely older than two, adorned in steel, brick, and glass. Despite the foreboding gloom cast over everything within sight, Luke was right… if it wasn’t for our purpose here, I definitely would have thought that it was kind of beautiful in its own way. Ms. Diaz soon stopped in the middle of all the buildings. “First up… this is our quad of sorts. To your left,” she pointed to the more modern looking building with an almost entirely glass entombed front, “is your numbers department. Courses like math, science, and finance will be in there.” She then gestured behind her to the oldest building that I could see. Ivy crawled up one side of it and a large clock tower stood at its peak. It wasn’t hard to imagine students coming here in the 1930s. “This is the administration building. While it’s mostly staff, financials, and other departments like those, classes like etiquette and fitness will in there as well.” She then gestured to our right. “Lastly on the quad, this is the more creative building. Basic living, creative classes, and routines will be held there. Any questions?” The group mostly just looked at their feet or kicked around an errant pebble. No one said a word. Ms. Diaz sighed. “That’s okay. I understand how you all must be feeling today. My advice… just try to take some deep breaths and listen to the rules when they’re explained later.” She paused and seemed hesitant for a moment. “I’m not sure I should be telling you this,” she said at a volume just above a whisper, “but right now, you get a break, so don’t worry about every little misstep you make. Later, take a second to compose yourself though. Most of the time, those who panic or dread everything, are the first to crack and do something stupid around here.” Most of the group remained as they were, but I saw a few of us, like Bill and Luke, start to ease up for a moment. Satisfied that her message had gotten through, if only a little bit, Ms. Diaz continued on and showed us around the rest of the grounds. There was the medical building, the gym attached to the back of the administration building, via a small, covered walkway, the dining hall, and at least four different dorm buildings. It didn’t take the group long though to spot the buildings currently under renovation at least and mostly covered up. “What are those?” Bill finally asked as we got closer to one and could hear the hammering and the sawing going on inside. “Oh…” Ms. Diaz paused for a moment like she was trying to concoct some story about them. “They’re, uh… just different buildings we use here. Just under renovation.” “Will we ever get to see inside?” Luke asked next. “You know, like maybe they’re building a new dining hall or maybe a driving course even?” I admired his hope or optimism, but I knew those chances were extremely low. Ms. Diaz, previously nearly sprinting along the paths, came to a hard stop and turned around to face us directly. “Look, you might see into them one day but trust me… you don’t want to know what’s happening inside… not really at least. So, take my advice and stay out of them while you’re here, okay?” Everyone remained silent. Ms. Diaz seemed insistent though. “No, I want everyone to tell me that you all understand. This is important. Don’t go poking around these buildings and simply try to avoid them, if possible, okay? Promise me now.” A few of us hesitated, but as soon as her hand pointed to us firmly, we all shouted, “We promise,” as loud as we could to her. Even despite the promise, a tiny part of curiosity burned within me. It was just another question added to my already growing pile. Finally, though, we finished touring the grounds, hitting the gardens and sites for future buildings, when me made a U-turn and headed back to the administration building. Ms. Diaz paused on the backstairs next to the gym and turned around to us. “Okay, this is where I leave you for now.” She then pointed at the double doors to her left rear. “Go through these doors and up the small stairs. It will take you right to processing. Go one at a time and follow everything they tell you to do. Don’t hesitate whatsoever, understand?” We all nodded, but that stupid queasy feeling I had earlier came back. “Good. Finish up in there and then come out this same way. I’ll be here and point you all onto your next destination. It will conclude our tour for today.” She then pulled out a small list from her front pocket. “Now, when I call your name, line up. They want you all in a specific order, so don’t deviate from the order I put you in.” No one disobeyed and soon, we were all in line. Luke was far ahead of me, and it turned out that Bill was right behind me. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but ass soon as we marched inside and found a steadily moving line, I was glad that I at least had one person to talk to kill time with. If nothing else, it kept my mind distracted and off the fact that I was about to be interviewed and officially processed into this institute. “Next!” a razor-thin woman wearing a pantsuit, and a woman garbed in a nurse’s scrubs said in unison. Both were at the head of the line and called each new guy forward when it was their turn to be processed. A few hesitated and the two women both either snapped, clapped, or banged on their desks to get them to move again. Behind both though, I saw two security guards scrutinizing the guy in front’s every move. I had no doubt that if someone refused to budge, those two guards would quickly swoop in and make him move in one way or another. . Finally, it was my turn. “Next!” the thin and taut woman shouted at me. I quickly ran up to the desk, and because I had been paying attention, I already had my wallet and photo ID to show her. “John Clark.” Her eyes quickly darted over my ID. “Hmmm… yes. I see.” She then handed me back my card and squinted her eyes at me. “Seems to be in order, so take this…” I quickly took the offered paper from her. “I’m Mrs. Chen, your medical teacher here.” She pointed to the woman next to her, now busy with Bill. “This is the head nurse, Cora. Both of us will help you out if you need medical assistance here, but for now, any questions?” I couldn’t think of any to ask them, despite the two dozen or so still buzzing around in my brain, so I just shook my head. “Well, good then. Now, just take your paper and go behind the curtain in stall… four.” She turned around to confirm and nodded her head. “Yes, stall four. A nurse should be waiting for your next steps in there already.” “Thank you…” I just managed to make out, but Mrs. Chen was already barking for the next guy to step up. So, clutching the paper, I moved to stall four and opened the curtain. Inside, was a single medical exam table and a young and attractive nurse adorned in cartoon scrubs. “Hello there!” she said in a way that almost seemed too perky for this type of place. “I’m Molly. I see you have your paper. Can I see it?” I simply lifted my arm with the paper, and she snatched it away. “John! Good to meet you!” I wasn’t sure what to make of her, so I just nodded and hoped this day would just end already. Molly seemed nice, but her over the top niceties were kind of putting me on edge. “Shy, huh?” I stood there frozen. “Well, that’s okay! I’m sure we’ll become fast friends here at some point in the next three years here. Head nurse Cora and Mrs. Chen deal with the big stuff, but you’ll probably see me or one of the other normal nurses when you need something medical. Around here, that could be a lot, but today, I just need to make sure you’re all healthy. So, take off your clothes, please.” “W… what?” She was a medical professional, and it made sense in a way, but still… with her attitude and upbeat voice, I wasn’t sure if she was making a joke or not. “You heard me. Take off your clothes,” she repeated. “I need to see you fully to make sure that you’re not carrying any infections or medical problems that we need to take care of here… or trying to smuggle something in.” She paused and then leaned in. “I mean, you all are already going under a lot of stress here. If you have something going on beforehand, we need to know about that. The teachers here will put you through the wringer, but going to the hospital on purpose because we didn’t know something… well, it’s best just to avoid all that, don’t you think?” I was still petrified over what she was asking me to do, so despite me understanding her and nodding, I didn’t do anything else. She quickly sighed. “Now, John… I’m not going to have a problem with you, am I?” Her face turned gloomy all of a sudden and I wasn’t sure if I just pushed the wrong button with her. Knowing about option B, I wasn’t sure if her cheery façade was just that and something much darker was looming around the corner. So, I quickly shook my head. “Well, that’s good at least. I know this place can be tough, but believe me, you don’t want me to have to call the guards in here. I had to do that earlier today and that guy… he already has a big strike against him. Not good for a first day,” she warned. “You don’t want that, right?” I shook my head, and despite trembling with my clothing, I quickly began to remove it. Fortunately, Molly’s once cheery attitude quickly returned as I quickly disrobed. For a moment, it felt a bit creepy, but I quickly realized when I heard yelling from another stall that her smile was likely just her own relief that yet another guy wouldn’t be put through a confrontation with security today. If I was a betting man, it was probably also relief that this showed I could follow the rules, even if I was uncomfortable with them. Still, knowing about option B at least, a quality like that was probably very useful in a place like this. The next fifteen minutes or so were extremely uncomfortable and awkward between us. Molly was always the gentle professional, but when one is being poked and prodded just about everywhere and then being asked all sorts of personal questions, there is going to be at least one moment of tension. “Sorry about all that,” she said as I started to slide back into my clothes. “It’s never easy meeting like this, but it gets it out of the way and ensures everyone can be just as healthy as they can be here. You understand, right?” I wanted to roll my eyes at her explanation for stripping in front of her, especially with the advancements in some of our technologies lately, but I just nodded. Besides Ms. Diaz, Molly seemed like the only member of the staff who even remotely tried to crack a smile. It wasn’t much, but Ben’s words of making nice with them continually rang in my head. Right as I was about to put my old clothes on though, Molly stopped me. “Oh! Wait just a minute. You won’t be needing those anymore.” “I won’t?” I didn’t like where this was heading. Molly shook her head and reached down and opened a cabinet. “Let’s see now… XL shirt probably… yes.” She retrieved a few items and then closed the cabinet. “Here,” she said, turning back to me, “these should fit. Wear these instead.” I looked over them and quickly recognized them as the uniform that they were. Long gray socks, black shoes, gray shorts, and a white button-up shirt with a red, blue, and white striped tie. To complete the look, the whole outfit came with a dark blue blazer, marked cleanly over the left chest with them emblem of the school. Looking at Molly, I knew wearing the uniform was non-negotiable, so I quickly jumped into it while she packed up the last remnants of my old life here with me. As I began to fidget with my tie, I asked a question that had been burning in my mind since I had initially packed my suitcase. “Is this a permanent uniform, or is it only for…” “All the time, actually,” I new voiced echoed, followed by the entrance in the stall of a tall but friendly-looking woman. “Ms. Sparrow!” Molly quickly got up and I half expected her to bow or curtsey to this new woman. “Thank you for you help today, Molly, but I couldn’t help but overhear an inquiring mind…” Her gaze shifted to me. “John, right?” I nodded. “Excellent. I’m Ms. Sparrow… assistant director of this institute.” “Glad to meet you, ma’am,” I said as respectfully as I could, knowing anyone with ‘director’ in their title had to be a friend here. I’d rather be considered a suck-up than a delinquent in her eyes. She smiled softly at me, but seeing I was now fully dressed, she took the opportunity to pass me the blazer. “And to answer your question, yes, this uniform is permanent. It’s a new regulation Congress passed this year. I’m not entirely convinced why, but you wear this, or at least a variation of it during your whole time here at our institute. ‘Great… Three years of wearing the same thing…’ I had gone to a high school where freedom of expression was very much on display. It could be a little unruly sometimes, but it was still freedom. Now, however, it became readily apparent that unlike my brother when he went to a center, if I ever left here… even for fun, I would be forever marked as being enrolled in this institute. Obvious already, due to a card I knew I would have to present to the public at some point, option B was always looming in our future, and any student now could not escape that reputation even outside these walls anymore. It was another piece of bad news. “Well, anyways, it was good meeting you face-to-face, John,” she said smiling. Again, I couldn’t tell if her smile was legitimate or just a façade. “I look forward to seeing your progress here at Smeckton.” With that, she exited the tent, and I could hear a sigh of relief from Molly. “Whew! Never know how she’s going to react to all this.” I could see the tension lower in her posture as well. “She’s one of the good ones, but she has a job, and she knows that if she can’t do it, they’ll find someone else who can.” Molly perked back up. “Still, we have to move on.” She then handed me back my paper, I noticed now with a stamp on the bottom edge. “Give this back to your guide and she’ll give you the rest of what you need for today. Good luck, John.” Thanking her and taking the paper, I made a quick exit. Just as she said, handing my completed form to Ms. Diaz, she then handed me another piece of paper back. “You can find this online at our portal if you ever need to view it again there or lose this copy, but this is your schedule. Seems like you have first block and group A. You should find some good in there.” She said it with such ease, but like seemingly everything else today, it just gave me more questions. “Group A? First blo…?” Ms. Diaz held her hand up. “Don’t worry about that now. It will all be explained at dinner. Make sure you are there on time, but for now, go to Miller Hall for your dorm, room 212, okay?” “Thank you, Ms. Diaz…” Again, I wanted to be polite, but I also felt that of everyone I had met so far, she seemed the most likely to take my side if it ever came to that. Molly was nice, but I definitely felt a shield when I had talked to her. Ms. Diaz felt rawer, but also somehow strangely more comfortable than the rest. As I walked off to Miller Hall, I knew that only time would tell if my instincts were right or not. Getting to Miller Hall, I quickly felt like the odd man out on this campus so far. While other halls seemed pristine or at least renovated in the decade, the best I could say about Miller Hall was that it had character. Ivy grew here as well, but this growth seemed more from neglect than an aesthetic choice. The colors were all faded and most of the brick exterior had some form of crack or chip in it. To top it off, air conditioning units hung from some of the windows and most had seen better days. Sighing and still dragging my suitcase and backpack with me, I entered and made my way up to the second floor. There, I found a nice common room of sorts at the end of the hallway by the stairs where others had already gathered. Seeing Luke lounging around, I made sure to give him a quick wave. Once he waved back, I searched for my room. At the other end of the hallway, I found it and saw there were two beds inside. I briefly wondered who my roommate was but decided to have a look around first before worrying about something like that here. Two beds, two desks, two closets, and a single bathroom off the side of the entryway was about all I found. Compared to what I had seen from Laura’s freshman dorm, I knew it was about average, but with option B looming in the background, I wondered how long it would stay this way. “Knock, knock!” I turned around and saw Bill standing there and smiling at me, his messy red hair even more tousled up now from his brush with one of the nurses and the uniform he was sporting as well. “Bill!” I barely knew him, but it was nice to see at least one familiar face. “Wait… are you my roommate?” He smiled and nodded. “Looks like it. To be honest, I was worried I was going to get stuck with one of those stuck-up types we saw earlier. Would just be my luck around here. Almost would rather an old building like this rather than be with one of them, right?” “Whew! I thought I was the only one who was thinking that.” From the bus ride over and our wait in line, I felt a little tension from the day already slide off my shoulders. Bill was a self-admitted mess, but it didn’t take us long to come up with a few rules for the place, especially seeing the regulations for the cleanliness of the dorm from a packet of information that had been left on one of our desks. Bill chose the left side of the room, and I chose the right. Each of us quickly unpacked our few possessions and made sure to check each regulation in hopes we wouldn’t violate them outright without even knowing about it. “Can you believe this shit?” Bill asked as he browsed everything while I set up a few picture frames of my family at my desk. “All students must keep their bathrooms clean at all times. Failure to do so will results in the addition of up to three demerits. Damn… and what do you think a demerit means?” I had been wondering the same. “I don’t know… I heard we’ll hear more about rules and all tonight at dinner. Can’t imagine a place like this wouldn’t grind that into our minds on the first day, you know?” “True, true…” Bill looked back the paper and then hopped down from his perch on his desk. Few family pictures stayed on his desk, but from the few books he brought, I could tell he was at least a little bit of a brain. “Hey… do you want to… I don’t know, maybe get out of here and take a breather before dinner?” Until then, I knew I was stressed, but I didn’t really know just how stressed. I quickly freed my unconsciously gripped hands, flexed them for a second, and nodded. “Yeah. Definitely.” He chuckled and grabbed his wallet and we both headed to the stairs. “Oh, wait. I saw Luke in here earlier. Do you want to invite him along?” Bill shrugged his shoulders. “Sure. Why not? He kind of seemed edgy when I saw him, but maybe some fresh air will do him good as well?” With us both in agreement, we managed to pry Luke away from his relaxed seat in the common room. “Wait, Luke, where’s your roommate?” I asked, finally getting outside and walking around. Luke shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. That guy was in and out of the room in about six seconds. Haven’t seen him since.” I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad sign, but Bill and I just moved on. It wasn’t long before we came to an unsettling scene. “Damn, you’re small,” a lanky guy mocked down to the small and weaker guy on the ground. A crowd was already forming around them, and it didn’t take long to see that the lankier guy was one of the wealthier ones around here. “Bet you won’t last a month in this place.” “Nelson,” another figure behind him hissed. He was even skinner, but his more remarkable trait was his movement. I would have almost described him as having the fluidity of a snake as he popped in and out from behind Nelson. “Too many witnesses. Disperse.” “Quiet, Dilbert!” Nelson sneered at his apparent cohort. His eyes then snapped back to the smaller guy lying on the ground. “Please, please don’t… h… hurt me,” the smaller guy pleaded. He was about as pale as a sheet and trembled with fear. Considering option B, this display on his first day wasn’t a good sign. We probably all felt it, but we had the fortitude to keep it inside of us. This guy was already losing it. I didn’t like it. “Hey,” I said, stepping forward a little from the rest of the forming crowd. “Leave him alone.” Nelson’s eyes shot to me in anger and annoyance that I had even dared to interrupt his torture. Like a sadist torturing a meek rabbit caught in a trap, it wasn’t hard for me to picture Nelson liking to pick the wing off butterflies. “And who asked you, huh? This is a private matter. Butt out!” He was giving me an out, and I could feel the whispers of Bill and Luke behind me urging me back into the fold but looking back down at the smaller guy on the ground, practically in a seated fetal position by now, I knew I couldn’t back down. I also realized that not wanting to get in trouble myself, I only had one option. “Yeah… that’s not going to happen.” I heard a few ‘oohs’ in the crowd and I worked hard not to roll my eyes at the immature display here. “You keep this up though… you just know someone will see…” “So?” Nelson clearly wasn’t getting my insinuation. “So… a big crowd like on the first day?” I gestured around. “You get caught bullying another student here and who knows what might happen. Fancy a few demerits on your first day, huh?” Nelson and Dilbert’s eyes widened like saucers. The rich and elite of society usually were privier to what happened here because they usually knew one of the administrators, directors, or even lawmakers of places like these. Most didn’t think it was fair but had little power to really do anything about it. Nelson then glared back down at the small figure on the ground and even growled for a moment. “Take it easy, princess. Your little boyfriend there might be right today, but he won’t always be there to help you. Mark my words… you won’t last long here.” The two then headed off with several following them as well and I quickly felt relief, but I then heard one comment above the rest. “Wow! I can’t believe such a strong type of man would just walk away like that. A girl… maybe? But a guy like that?” Clearly making a joke to get a rise out of them, he emphasized his features and then made a comical fearful face after. For him, it seemed like the worst mistake he could have made. Nelson, Dilbert, and even a few of the other students turned back. ‘Shit!’ I tried to think of something to ease the situation now, but the guy just kept adding up the strikes against him from Nelson and his posse. “I mean… it’s like the lion being scared of a little mouse.” To my dread, a few in the crowd started to chuckle. Still, I think my threat seemed to hold sway. Nelson did walk closer for a moment, but only said nearly entirely under his breath, “We’ll see who gets the last laugh…” And that was it. Nelson, Dilbert, and a huge bruiser of a guy turned back around and walked away. As soon as they were out of sight, I heard a giant sigh of relief. “Geesh, you’re dumb,” Bill said about as straightforward as he could to the jokester. “You know you just made an enemy or two, right?” The blonde guy just shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe, and I think it was three, but at least I got under their skin, and I was entertained. I mean… at the end of the day, what’s it all matter?” Luke sighed. “John… Bill, meet Mark… my roommate.” I almost winced at that news, knowing that for someone like Nelson, one was usually a lacky, bystander, or an enemy. For Luke, I wasn’t sure he would be considered anything but an enemy already. Still, I shook his hand, and we talked for a second longer… or at least until I saw the smaller guy pick himself off the ground and begin to walk away. “Hey you!” The smaller guy turned around and looked back at me. “Who? Me?” I nodded. “That’s right.” The smaller guy walked closer to me. “So, what’s your name?” The smaller guy sighed, looked at the floor, and then back up at us. “I’m Tommy, and… well, thanks for back there. I could’ve taken more, but still… thanks.” I smiled and gestured for Mark to join our group as well. I knew in a place like this, using the power of a group would serve everyone better. If Tommy was in our group, he might just last. Without, I don’t think I would have bet five bucks on Tommy making it more than a month here. We talked for a little bit, and once again, maybe it was our shared trauma in having to come to a place like this, but we all clicked pretty well; however, Tommy then spoke up. “Wait… Mark, why did you egg them on? That can’t have been very smart.” Mark just scoffed at the notion. “Whatever. Everyone here is pretty bound by the rules, and we all know the score as well. It’s not much, but it’s the power we have above option B. I mean… one can poke a bear, but if that bear is held in by a cage, the jokester is much less likely to get hurt. Same goes for here as well.” His logic seemed flawed, but Bill was already quick to ask another question. “Where’s your roommate? I mean… you have a roommate, right?” Tommy nodded and then sighed and pointed to a nearby figure looking at doors and above his head. “That’s him. I think he’s checking for security or something like that…” He then sighed. “You know I’ll never know why were paired together. Just seems so…” “Like you’re doomed to fail?” Luke asked, and to our sadness, Tommy nodded. Unfortunately, knowing about option B and the strictness already of this place, it wouldn’t have surprised me at all. Still, right before Bill had a chance to ask another question, a large bell started going off on the surrounding speakers. Further, an announcer soon came on. “Greetings. All students should report to the dining hall immediately for a debriefing and dinner.” The voice paused and then started again. “I will give you more time tonight, but for now, know that anyone caught not attending will receive several demerits and my displeasure.” His voice then got a bit louder. “Trust me… you all definitely don’t want that.” Right away, the second his voice went off the large speakers around the campus, we all agreed to at least walk to dinner together. I strained back to look for Tommy’s roommate to invite him as well, but just like that and he was gone. As I rejoined the group, I briefly wondered if his ways of solitude would work better than my adherence to the new ways, but seeing my new group of friends, I felt somehow safer, and everyone actually seemed relaxed and happy together. Rounding the corner to the dining hall though, I brushed off a rain drop, and I only hoped that previous good feeling would last… or if not, then at least through dinner. 9 1
Guilend Posted September 23, 2024 Posted September 23, 2024 I'd hate to be one of those normal nurses that got in trouble with the director. Probably wouldn't be able to sit for a week, not that, as a nurse, Id need to sit for it 😂 I think it's a 50/50 on if a group is better than being alone in a place like this. It really depends on what kind of people are in the group. I'd definitely not let Mark anywhere near my group. He'd make too much noise and get too many eyes on us. Don't need attention in a place like that.
LostBBoyBear Posted September 24, 2024 Author Posted September 24, 2024 Hey everyone! I just managed to squeak out another chapter today. I know there might be more exhibition dumping in these chapters than most of you would like, but again, I just need to set up everything at the start so we can really start to have some fun with this story. I am trying to sneak in some other bits of plot, but bear with me for just a bit longer. Just as a reminder, a new poll is up for you all to let me know which story you all would like to read next. Story options and the link can be found back in the beginning of chapter 2. As I mentioned before though, if you feel more comfortable leaving a comment here or as a private message to me, I will count these as well. Additionally, like before, this poll will be shut down right before I post my final chapter on here. Further announcements will be made regarding this when the time gets closer. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 3: Dinner Brings Relief, Right? Like a flood of hungry animals, all the students enrolled in the institute filed orderly within the multiple entryways into the large dining hall. Unlike what I had seen with the dining halls that Laura attended at her college from some of her social media posts before I left, here, the food was pre-selected for everyone. Rumors swirled it was to get eventual option B people used to the idea of giving up control or being fed special diets, but everyone always framed the meals as ‘at least they can accommodate allergies and religions.’ It was little comfort to a picky eater like me. Still, we all filled in the seats on the long row tables in the dining hall. Wood paneling and various plaques and a few banners adorned the walls around us. Smells of food cooking wafted throughout and made my stomach growl in anticipation. As I looked around, I saw that in front of our tables was one perpendicular table placed against the large back and clearly main wall and focus of the hall. There, several individual seats were perched, with two of them only slightly above the rest. Once inside, it didn’t take long for everyone to realize that each of those seats were for the faculty. As soon as they all filled in and took their seats, the taller, muscular, and seemingly calculating figure in the middle stood up. “Please, please. Everyone! Take your seats now.” From what I was hearing, it was readily apparent that the central figure was the same as the one that had made the initial announcement. Fortunately, no one seemed willing to test the boundaries of his request, and we all sat quickly and turned our bodies to face him as best we could. “Thank you. My name is Edward Johnson Breckenridge. I am the director of this institute and you all may call me Director, Director Breckenridge, or even just Mr. Breckenridge.” He seemed to pause as if waiting for an applause that usually followed his explanation, but his eyes just narrowed, and he continued today when none came. “Right… for now, I want you all to eat and then once you are done, we can talk about the rules and what is expected of you going forward. Sound good?” No one replied. “I said… sound good?” His voice boomed off the cavernous dining hall this time and every student nodded their heads and quickly replied nearly all as one, “Sounds good!” “Excellent.” His smug smile felt malevolent under the circumstances, but his tone felt like any other kindly leader. Knowing his position though, I felt his smile was more apt to his true personality. “You may begin.” He then waved his hands, and several members swarmed the hall with stacks of trays. In only a matter of minutes, every placement of food of the roughly 400 of us was completed. I wondered how they would be able to keep up with the demand over the next three years for three meals a day. My mind was burning but my brain simply didn’t understand the truth of it all at that point. Tonight’s menu of food was a serving of spiced chicken, rice, potatoes, and a smattering of vegetables. It actually wasn’t bad, but as Luke soon pointed out, we all wondered just how many times we would have this exact meal. The program wasn’t known for their food selections, but it took Bill noting that ‘in a place like this, it could always be worse.’ Almost seeming starving or too nervous to make much chatter tonight, with the looming threat of the rules and expectations coming soon, most everyone stuck to their food. Occasionally, I would look around and try to see the various reactions and hear the conversations going on around me, but all I managed to see was the same situation elsewhere and all the teachers looking at us like prey for their coming tortures. It didn’t help my appetite, but knowing I likely couldn’t find or even have food later, I forced myself to eat what was in front of me now. As soon as the conversations started up later though, several of the servers came back and collected the trays. Not being hungry, I was the last to finish, but even my tray was soon taken away. I only managed to just swallow another gulp of my water before Mr. Breckenridge stood again. “And how did we enjoy the meal tonight?” he bellowed. This time, we all got the gist of his call and response sort of behavior. It was a little annoying after eating, but he didn’t seem like the type that one wanted to upset. “Good!” everyone shouted together. A few ‘thank you’ appreciations were tossed out after, but the single word response seemed satisfactory enough for the director. “I’m glad to hear that. Our cooks work extra hard to make sure that all of us are satisfied and healthy in this program. If you ever see them, please thank them.” Several of us nodded, and the Director seemed pleased enough to move on. “Now, as you might see and feel a bit tonight, there are several of you in here eating as one. Don’t worry, I suspect that will likely change soon.” Several whispers and worries went up amongst our ranks. “What do you think that means?” Bill whispered to the rest of us. “I don’t know,” I replied, “but I don’t think I want to find out personally.” “Shhh!” Tommy hushed both of us. “You’ll get us in trouble.” Bill and I briefly rolled our eyes over the unlikelihood of that happening from some quiet whispering and curiosities, but we still refocused our attention back to Mr. Breckenridge. “Yes, yes. Maybe a bit confusing for some of you,” he continued. “See, unlike other institutions which serve more like the colleges that preceded them and for some of you, that you will go to next, our institute takes a different approach.” He paused and gestured to us. “Go ahead and look around. For the next three years, these are your fellow classmates. When or if they fail, you will see them. We do not hide our option B’s here. Instead, we want you all to see them as they are. Call it your own personal motivations to better yourselves if you will.” “Also, I want to note here that we know that many of you come from privileged backgrounds…” I looked around at our table. None of us seemed to be dirt poor, but rich was never a word that could be used to describe any of us. Instead, my view shifted to a nearby table where Nelson and Dilbert were sitting. The Director’s message was clearly focused on them. “We hope that you will use your privileged backgrounds to help others less fortunate than you instead of lording it over them. Do this, and you will have our thanks.” I wondered how his thanks would manifest, but I already felt low on the totem pole here, and from the looks of the likes of Dilbert and Nelson, I doubted they would truly heed his advice. It was yet another strike against people like us… Mr. Breckenridge cleared his throat and then took a sip of water. “Yes, now, with our program as well, we have determined not to waste our resources on prolonging the inevitable as some other institutes do. If deemed appropriate, new methods of punishment will be implemented immediately.” My heart quickly sank over the realization that there would be no break in our torture here if we started to fail. “The only exceptions for punishment being applied on campus though are those involving hypnotic-conditioning, enforced feminization… either mental or permanent physical changes at least, and deeper levels of enforced chastity and regression therapy.” The whole room went quiet. Only a few of the chirping bugs outside could faintly be heard. “Yes. I thought that might get your attention…” His sneer disgusted me, and I was quickly learning that he was definitely the type of director that would be a problem for anyone who stepped a hair out of line in the next three years. “These procedures will be done at an offsite location and are usually irreversible, so as such, if a student is deemed unfit enough to go there, rest assured, they won’t be returning.” In seconds, the tone and atmosphere of the entire room had shifted. Before, the Director seemed almost jovial and welcoming to us. It felt like any first day of school, but now… even when he tried to give his positives of their program, they just came across as hollow in comparison. “Students will be allowed multiple chances to right their wrongs and can regain what was changed on most levels before then though,” he explained. “Some punishments may be deemed permanent for the duration of a student’s stay, but these will be announced when they are implemented. Still, always remember that those with too many demerits will be sent elsewhere. With that in mind though, know that option B isn’t the only outcome for failed students here…” Gasps and whispers of speculation echoed once more throughout the hall. The Director briefly paused, I suppose to allow all this to fully sink in, and our whole new group looked at each other in shock. “Shit! They’re screwing us over from the start!” Mark complained. “Quiet you idiot!” Bill chastised him. “You’ll get us all into trouble.” “It does suck though,” I countered. Bill essentially just grunted, but from his expression, I could see he felt just as trapped as the rest of us. “Hey… Al of you, quiet! He’s speaking again,” Tommy whispered loudly over his shoulder. I could quickly tell that he was a ‘by the rules’ type of person, which while annoying, I knew could be an asset to our group. While Mark might push the envelope of what was permitted, Tommy could keep us on track to staying within the rules. “Yes, that’s right,” Mr. Breckenridge continued, “and now for our wonderful facul…” The doors then burst open to the rear. We all looked back there and saw a single security guard dragging a nearly twitching student by his side up the center aisle in between the rows of tables. The student looked more or less frozen in agony, but all eyes refocused on the Director as he pressed forward over the table to get a better view of the scene now unfolding before him. “And what is the meaning of this?” I could tell he was annoyed to be interrupted like this, and even the security guard, previously burly and sour, skipped a step in apparent nervousness. “Sorry, sir…” he said quickly. “I found this one by the fence however, trying to escape. As you can see though, he got hit with the tasers on the fence before he was successful…” “Ah.” The Director’s mood quickly softened toward the guard, but his eyes directed at the student still seemed like they could peel paint at 40 yards. After likely seeing that the student was still too stunned to move or really do anything meaningful, the Director refocused his attention on all of us. “Let this be a lesson to all of you. Trying to escape will result in some of the harshest demerits we have to offer.” A few of us turned back to look at the only slightly moving lump of the student in question. I felt bad for him, but thinking back to my own situation, I felt there had to be at least some hope here… ‘Right?’ The Director looked back at the student and sighed. “Well, I suppose this being the first day and all… I can give him a little slack.” Seemingly disbelieving his own words, he shook his head and bristled under his jacket. “Yes… you prop him up somewhere and bring him to my office after we’re done.” “Sir.” The guard nodded and then proceeded to drag the student off to one corner of the room. I saw a few try to poke him or even looked as if they were seeing he was still breathing, but I guess coming out of his tased self, he flicked their efforts away limply and fruitlessly. “Now then… where was I?” Director Breckenridge stroked his wrinkled and bald chin for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Ah, yes! The faculty.” He quickly turned to either side of him to view them more closely. “Just when I mention your name, please stand up and give a wave to everyone.” In seconds, he was back to his more jovial nature, though just having seen his pricklier side, I couldn’t help but see it as just a front now. “Head nurse Cora.” The woman had changed out of her scrubs, but now wore a more professional-looking old fashioned nurse’s uniform. For being someone dedicate to healing, her icy stare seemed to cower and harm anyone who looked at her for too long. Some of fellow staff members even seemed unnerved by her. “Math Teacher, Mr. Bellbody.” His tweed clothing from earlier was still prominently on display and he took a bow before us before grumbling something under his breath. He seemed to want to be here even less than the rest of us students did. “Science studies, Dr. Pismons.” A woman stood up and as she did so, her wiry graying hair bounced on either side of her head. Her buggy eyes almost gave her the appearance of being insane, but her brief wave and smile seemed to indicate something more was lurking beneath the surface. “Medical studies, Mrs. Chen.” Remembering her from earlier, her stiff demeanor hadn’t changed at all and her nod and wave to the crowd seemed to be the briefest and least filled with any kind of emotion whatsoever. I just hoped I would stay as healthy as possible around here with her and Head Nurse Cora being in charge of the program. “Fitness instructor, Mr. Fitzpatrick.” Almost resembling a drill sergeant, his buff muscles stood in contrast to most of the other academics and staff surrounding him. His narrow glare around the room gave me the chills, but he only nodded slightly, his polished dome of a head shining off the overhead lights, and then sat back down. I was already dreading gym class… “Financial matters, Mr. Hunsinger.” The stereotypical bumbling professor, I nearly thought he was going to fall off the stage as he stood up and gave his own form of a wave. The rest of the staff seemed unsurprised though and Mr. Fitzpatrick simply helped him from falling over completely with a look of annoyance on his face… almost like it wasn’t the first time that had happened. Mr. Breckenridge also seemed to roll his eyes, but he just continued after Mr. Hunsinger sat back down like nothing had happened. “Creative department, Ms. Diaz.” Smiling and brimming with more color than the rest, for a moment, I felt more at ease with her than the rest of the staff combined so far. I always had a knack for creativity, so I felt her class would be a nice safe zone in a sea of torment otherwise. “Etiquette and manners, Mrs. Pettigrew.” A true specimen of perfection then stood up. Her hair was done up in a bun and I highly doubted that a single hair was out of place on her head or a thread from her stiff-necked uniform of sorts. She even moved as if she was a manual for how to sit and stand like a ‘lady.’ “Routine studies, Mr. Gray.” Of all the classes listed on my schedule that I saw earlier, I was most confused by his. I wondered what the aging professor would teach us as he stood and waved, but I couldn’t help but feel that a trap was being laid for us there. Easy or routine didn’t always mean safe… especially here. “Household studies, Ms. Sandra.” At last, she seemed like another friendly face in the crowd. She appeared sad however, as she waved and looked out over us, and I wondered just how many cycles of students she had gone through before. How many had she taught that ended up as option B candidates? “And last but certainly not least, basic studies, Mr. Dumphy.” The final staff member stood and even bowed. Like routine studies, I was also curious about his class. Not having seen any sort of class description and not being the most obvious of titles, basics just felt like another trap for us to fall into. After all, if one failed a class like basics, what chance would they have at progressing in an institute where option B was not only common knowledge but a realistic and unfortunate path out of here? “Yes, yes. Thank you all,” Mr. Breckenridge continued after Mr. Dumphy sat down. He then stared back at us with his beady and focused eyes. “These are your teachers or your helpers. Others you might come to find to help you in the future, but for now, these staff members will guide you toward success, or if you choose, your failure at this institute.” I quickly remembered back to what Ben had told me. I had to get to know each of these professors well and become friendly with them. While Mr. Breckenridge had ultimate say in my fate, I would see the teachers for the bulk of the week. If I succeeded or failed in front of them, my fate was almost definitely assured either way. I rapidly resolved it within myself to make sure that my fate was anything but option B. “Now, I will pass the baton over to my assistant, Ms. Sparrow.” Like before, she stood with authority, even next to the Director and didn’t seem the slightest bit shaken by his presence. “Yeah! Let’s all give her a warm welcome!” Director Breckenridge clapped his hands a few times and some of the students joined him, but it turned into mostly just an awkward moment for everyone. Unphased though, Ms. Sparrow continued gracefully. “Thank you, Director Breckenridge, for that warm welcome.” Her gaze shifted out toward us. “And welcome to all you new students. Director Breckenridge and I work closely to ensure that your stay here is both educational and transformative, regardless of the path you may end up on. Please, if you all have any questions, concerns, or just need someone to talk to, my door is always open.” The room remained silent, and I truly wondered if she was a legitimate line of help or just another lure and trap that they could spring on us. Her associateship with the Director cast a poor light on her, but behind her adherence to the rules, I swore I saw at least an ounce of light and maybe even hope in her presence here. “Now then, I want to briefly explain the schedule that you all were given earlier today. First, you all have been divided into three blocks and four groups. At the start, each class will have roughly 30 students in it, and based on your block, you will rotate throughout the weeks here,” he explained. “Every three days, your schedule will rotate. As such, I highly recommend that you all review your schedule the week and night before to avoid confusion with deadlines or what you bring with you to class. Accidental adherence to schedules for the wrong days will not be accepted as valid excuses and you will rack up several demerits if it becomes a pattern.” “Beyond this, you all will have most weekends off and each day you will report here for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, along with the rest of your fellow students and us as staff.” She paused and looked over the staff surrounding her. “That being said… if you are detained by a professor or have prior obligations, with written permission, some meals can be skipped or substituted for another time.” I deeply wondered what all that could be about, but from the pained looks on the faces of at least Ms. Diaz and Mr. Dumphy, I knew it wasn’t something that I wanted to find out about firsthand. “All this will take place for the next two years without exception beyond the periods of holiday leave that we have already noted through the year.” Our first wasn’t until Thanksgiving break unfortunately… practically three long months away. “After those two years, however, you all will be divided into your respective groups once again,” she explained to everyone’s seeming surprise. “Your third year will focus on your life after this institute and focus on the specifics to get you ready for college or a technical field afterward. As part of this, for those of you already curious, we have several wide-ranging topics than span from becoming electricians to government workers to even CEOs one day for some of you. Here, and forgive the saying, but the world is your oyster. Practically, only your imagination will limit you from there. Her face then grew dark, and I knew there had to be another side to the equation. Already on my first day I was learning that there were always two sides to almost everything explained to us. “For those of you who do not meet this institute’s expectations however, like those of you with too many demerits, you will take a specialized class.” “Specialized… yeah right!” Luke muttered, though his voice still reached around the hall. He might have been caught too and already listed with a demerit for his interruption, but he wasn’t the only one with some skepticism about it though. “Direct express to option B, I bet,” Mark agreed. Several of the group nodded in agreement as well, but I stayed silent and motionless. In this case at least, I didn’t want to let that negativity cloud my future path more than it already had. “Silence, silence,” Ms. Sparrow instructed calmly after a moment. Seeing her respect of us was a welcome change of pace from Director Breckenridge, and nearly everyone quieted down much faster than they had with him. “Yes, thank you.” Her eyes seemed to twinkle as she gazed over us. “I know many of you feel like you know what this class will be, but I assure you that you don’t. Still, I need to admit that it isn’t as glamorous as the other classes and another special class will have to be taken once you graduate here before you can move on.” “I wonder how many people actually go to that special class, huh?” Luke was getting edgy in his comments, and I could see him squirm around his chair already. I just hoped this session after dinner, or whatever it was, would end soon… for his sake at least. “And while that time is still a long way off,” she continued, quickly pushing past the whispers and comments being batted around her, “just know that this specialized class doesn’t guarantee a failure or direct path to option B. One can still test out of it if they prove themselves.” “And I wonder how many get to take that test, huh?” Mark and Luke high-fived and I rolled my eyes a bit at their antics. It was a macho show of their strength and uncaring attitudes, but I knew it was just a front. Through it all, everyone looked just as scared and as nervous as I was. “Thank you, thank you, Ms. Sparrow,” Director Breckenridge said, clapping awkwardly once again as he took back the spotlight for the night. Ms. Sparrow sat down, a small glint of annoyance on her face. “Now, for the moment you’ve all been waiting for… the rules…” I could already see that everyone’s eyes were keenly fixed on the Director. These would be our make or break, and we needed to know each and every one of them by heart. Otherwise, option B wouldn’t just be a rumor to us anymore. “The rules are as follows…” He then took a giant sip of his water. “All students must be in their hall by 10 PM for quiet time. They then must be in their rooms with few exceptions by 11 on the weekdays and 12 on Friday or Saturday… with some exceptions.” “Your current room assignment will be determined by the state of your undergarments and further regulations will be noted later,” he noted plainly. “If one is deemed for a specific set of undergarments and found without them later on however, severe consequences will be enacted.” I could almost hear the shudder of the whole room after hearing that rule. Of course, we were all wearing underwear now but based on any of the rumors or just the flat-out viewing of those who had gone through option B already, undergarments were purely code for diapers. It was unspoken by the Director but every guy in the room knew the truth. “There shall be no drinking, no drugs, no smoking, no pleasuring of yourselves, or extended stays of family, outside friends, girlfriends, or any girls of a non-familial relationship at all times. No exceptions for sleepovers.” Several gasps went up amongst us. It was the toughest one to bear for most of us so far. “However, due to our linkage with other programs, we can allow some female company within the dorm rooms if they are solely helping with a facility task of sort. In some cases, we might even actively encourage this.” I saw several people smile, probably thinking that Director Breckenridge was giving us direct permission to bend the rules and have a girl over… even for a little bit. For me though, I saw that small glint in his eyes. He had something up his sleeves with that one exception and a little voice in the back of my mind was telling me that I should actually try to avoid that happening if at all possible. “Without exception, any cursing or back-talk to any staff member or facility guest is strictly prohibited and will be punished with the highest of consequences.” He took another sip of water. “Lastly, when in class specifically or in the presence of a staff member, to speak, raise your hand first. As a warning though, depending on when and where, you may be ignored.” I was starting to hate Director Breckenridge with every syllable and rule he spouted out. I knew these three years weren’t going to be a cake walk exactly, but still… the way he said everything with such glee and vigor, it just made me sick. Seeing him now, he seemed to want to break us at every turn, and in fact, he seemed to find pleasure in finding new ways to do so. I had little time to worry about that though. “Next,” he stated loudly, refocusing everyone’s attention back on him, “violations of these rules will be administered by a head nurse, staff member, Ms. Sparrow, or myself.” Mr. Fitzpatric seemed particularly gleeful over that. “Punishments will include, but are not limited to, diaper discipline and regression therapy,” he began again, each of his words landing like a guillotine already positioned over our heads. It was plain to anyone paying the slightest attention to the world outside that this punishment was a one-way ticket to option B. I had to remind myself to do almost anything to avoid those. “Humiliations of varying degrees,” he continued, “public or within the school will be administered. Either of which depends on the severity and type of rule breakage that occurred. Next, enforced chastity or the provoking of other male privileges will be enforced through either physical or chemical means.” As if on cue, nearly every guy seemed to cross their legs and grimace over that one. “What the heck do you think ‘the provoking of other male privileges means?” Mark questioned the group quietly. Everyone shrugged their shoulders, but I could tell that everyone wanted to both know the answer and avoid it altogether at the same time. “One of our longtime favorites though is the use of spanking,” Director Breckenridge said with a bit too much happiness. I could already see a few other professors smile wickedly at his comment as well. “This could be administered over the knee, with the use of a device, or wherever one is at the time and implements can include hands, paddles, whips, floggers, or whatever is found nearby. Our staff are well-versed in improvisation…” Again, several of the professors chuckled at his comment. I noticed though that a few remained motionless, and Ms. Diaz even seemed angry. “Lastly, bondage or confinement will be observed occasionally.” Of all the ones listed, I wasn’t entirely sure what it would fully entail, so I think I started to worry more about this than all the others… almost even more than the diapers. “Students may also be strapped to devices or chairs at night or in class. Further measures may be added to this particular punishment, however.” He paused and for once since he started the punishments, his face became extremely serious. “Now, trust me… you don’t want to push the rules once this punishment gets going. It can be… a lot… for anyone.” Right about then, I started to notice several others begin to panic. The quiet hold that Director Breckenridge had over the room earlier seemed to shatter quickly. No one dared try to escape, but worried murmurs and curses over the ‘maturity laws’ could clearly be heard through the room. Oddly though, my group, and myself included, seemed more or less motionless and silent. As I looked up at them, for a few at least, they only seemed deep in their own thoughts. “Silence!” Director Breckenridge’s voice boomed even more loudly over the hall, and I saw a few security guards step out from their holdings against the walls, including the one who had brought in the attempted escape student. “That’s better…” Director Breckenridge’s face started to relax after that. “Please settle. We are almost done, and you all can then leave. In front of everyone, however, I also want to note that we the staff will be extra vigilant over security this year to avoid a regrettable incident last year. Steps will be taken to ensure that security personnel do not take punishments into their own hands unless expressly given permission to do so by another staff member.” My imagination started to burn with the possibilities of what exactly had happened, and seeing security did little to ease it at all. Each guard stood more firm, and several of them even seemed worried. I wondered what would happen to them if they violated this rule, but Breckenridge didn’t dwell on the topic long enough for me to speculate further. “Yes, and that concludes tonight’s lesson. These rules will be posted in each hall and common room for your access. Memorize them. Live them. And now, I will leave you with this…” He took one last swig of his water. “Remember this… if you keep out of trouble and follow the rules, the next three years should go quickly. Break those rules however, and the next three years will be the worst of your lives, and you might not even make it to the full term here.” It was a terrible note to end on, but it felt very fitting of the institute that we were now all enrolled in. Little hope and just an emphasis on the rules and the seemingly near impossibility of following each of them and making it to the end. Looking around at everyone as we then left the dining hall, I doubted that anyone truly believed that ‘just following the rules’ would be enough to survive this place. As the crowd soon dispersed to their own halls for the night, our group gratefully stuck together, but we were all still cast in silence. Once we were practically alone though, Mark spoke up. “I need to say something…” “So, say it then,” Bill quipped back. Mark sighed. “I don’t think I can make it the full three years here…” We all stopped dead in our tracks, but with the narrow walkways back to Miller, we quickly had to jump out of the way of everyone else filing back into the remaining rooms. We all stood in silence for a moment, but Bill let out a clear sigh of relief. “Well… you’re not the only one.” “You too?” Mark asked, clearly as surprised as the rest of us. Bill nodded. “I can’t say you’re alone either,” I now freely admitted. Call it machoism or stubbornness, but no one seemed to want to be the first who admitted they were afraid and doubtful of this whole plot, so I held back. Now, we were sharing, but a few members seemed hesitant still. “Tommy? Mark? What about you all? You all feeling crappy about all this yet?” Both were silent, but I had seen them in the dining hall… so now, I just needed to hear what I already knew to be the case out loud. “I… I…” Tommy looked at the ground in distress and even hugged himself. “No… I don’t think I can make it that long…” The whole group then looked at Mark. His usual bouncy and nearly playful self was clearly taking a backseat tonight. “What? Me? Make it all three years? Gessh! Have you seen me? I’m more likely to win the lottery at this point than make it to then intact.” We all smiled, but the realization of our situation was clearly hitting us hard all at once tonight. For me though, I hated just thinking about it. I wanted a pact or something moving forward. I knew friends would only help me. “So… what do we do about it?” Everyone remained silent for a good chunk of time. The sun was setting rapidly, and the lights of the campus pathways started to flick on. I wasn’t sure if lingering outside at night was the best idea, but no one seemed even remotely interested in moving indoors. As Director Breckenridge said, we had until 10, but testing the limits of that the first night seemed foolish. “Well, I might have something we could do…” Luke said quietly. I doubted he had any confidence in his plan, but as opposed to my lack of plans, I would rather hear something than nothing. “Well, go on,” I pushed after a moment. I wanted to hear his plan, and I could tell everyone else in the group did as well. “Uh, it might seem stupid,” he started, which I knew was never a good start to a plan. “I just… what if we escape? Stupid, maybe, but it’s something, right? So, who’s in?” No one said a single word. His plan was batty and just plain foolish, especially after seeing what had happened to the student earlier tonight. Escape wasn’t a plan… it was a near suicide pact here. What’s more, after today, its consequences would be the most severe we could inflict on campus. I semi doubted that notion, but again, I didn’t want to test it out. I wanted to yell in Luke’s face for his stupidity, but the more I thought about everything, the more I felt that it might have been the only option to escape our inevitable fates if we stayed like we were supposed to. With all the rules we had to follow and the reputation of Smeckton, I had started to feel that we were doomed already. If we tried, however, it might have just been the small chance of hope we were all looking for at this point. I had no idea of what would come after for any of us in life or even where we would go, but faced with option B, almost every other plan was starting to seem like a better idea. 9 1
WBDaddy Posted September 24, 2024 Posted September 24, 2024 Your prose is nicely executed. Of course you tipped a bit of your hand with the opening, now that we know the diapers aren't automatic upon arrival, but the journey isn't diminished by it. One pet peeve of mine (I swear I'm going to make a guide about it in the Writers subforum) is the homophone interpolation early on. "Put through the ringer" The object in question is a "wringer" - dates back to the days before automatic washing machines, where people would scrub clothes across a washboard and then put them through a hand-cranked set of metal rollers (the wringer) to get as much excess water out of them as possible before hanging them on the clothesline. But that's a me problem, not a you problem. I see stuff like that all the time, and it just triggers my OCD about colloquial phrases. If I were pushed to offer a critique, I'd say Mr. Director being excessively frank about the menu of disciplinary measures is a bit rich. A mistake I've made on many occasions myself. Carry on, sir. And don't apologize about the exposition. You're setting a stage. Familiar, but unique, and engaging. I look forward to more.
Guilend Posted September 24, 2024 Posted September 24, 2024 Okay, very interesting. I'm very intrigued with the punishments. I'm guessing that diapers as a punishment would really be used for accidents or poor hygiene for the most part. At least for a long term punishment. It's good to for part of the humiliation punishment for a short term punishment. But it seems that it's not their go to in general, though I'm sure each staff member has their own favorite punishment they enjoy giving. These guys are doomed. They already know it. Though I don't think trying to escape is the best plan. In my opinion, the best plan is to follow the rules as best as possible and try to make it through with the least amount of permanent changes as possible. It seems that Ms Diaz isn't a fan, at least of spankings. My guess is she's kind of a new teacher, maybe her second year at best. Otherwise she'd probably be better at hiding her feelings. I have a feeling that her attitude is going to get her into trouble. I'm sure it probably has already. It could even be part of the reason she got angry over the mention of spanking because she's had her share of them while working there. I would not be surprised to see her in class at some point with a distinct diaper bulge.
LostBBoyBear Posted September 24, 2024 Author Posted September 24, 2024 3 hours ago, WBDaddy said: Your prose is nicely executed. Of course you tipped a bit of your hand with the opening, now that we know the diapers aren't automatic upon arrival, but the journey isn't diminished by it. One pet peeve of mine (I swear I'm going to make a guide about it in the Writers subforum) is the homophone interpolation early on. "Put through the ringer" The object in question is a "wringer" - dates back to the days before automatic washing machines, where people would scrub clothes across a washboard and then put them through a hand-cranked set of metal rollers (the wringer) to get as much excess water out of them as possible before hanging them on the clothesline. But that's a me problem, not a you problem. I see stuff like that all the time, and it just triggers my OCD about colloquial phrases. If I were pushed to offer a critique, I'd say Mr. Director being excessively frank about the menu of disciplinary measures is a bit rich. A mistake I've made on many occasions myself. Carry on, sir. And don't apologize about the exposition. You're setting a stage. Familiar, but unique, and engaging. I look forward to more. Thank you. For the homophone though, you know... I was going back and forth on that one. I couldn't remember what it was for the life of me, but with your explalnation, it makes perfect sense, so definitely a big thank you on that as well. It has now been fixed so others won't read the same problem.
LostBBoyBear Posted September 26, 2024 Author Posted September 26, 2024 Hey everyone! Just as a reminder, a new poll is up for you all to let me know which story you all would like to read next. Story options and the link can be found back in the beginning of chapter 2. As I mentioned before though, if you feel more comfortable leaving a comment here or as a private message to me, I will count these as well. Additionally, like before, this poll will be shut down right before I post my final chapter on here. Further announcements will be made regarding this when the time gets closer. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 4: Plans May Fall Down in Stormy Seas “I just don’t know,” Bill said after a moment of everyone pondering fiercely over the notion. “I mean… you saw that kid today in the dining hall like I did, right?” “We all did, Bill,” I said sadly. I couldn’t get the image of him out of my mind. I could only imagine what Director Breckenridge had planned for him after dinner, but even then, he said that he was giving the student some leniency for the first day. So, in a few hours, it wouldn’t be the first day anymore and that special easement of punishment wouldn’t apply. Besides, Director Breckenridge had already given us a warning about not escaping. Now that it was announced and in place as a rule, it didn’t feel very likely that he was going to be the type of guy to give second chances. “So, why are we even thinking about escaping in the first place then?” Bill was starting to sound desperate to run away from the plan as fast as he could. Despite being onboard with it, enough to even contemplate running away myself, I couldn’t blame him. “I’ll tell you why,” Luke said boldly. Everyone’s eyes switched over to him. “Just think about this place for a minute…” I could tell we all were thinking about everything we knew about the program in general and Smeckton itself. “Maybe other places would be better than Smeckton, or maybe they would be worse,” Luke continued. “The fact is that we simply don’t know because of all the secrecy surrounding these places. It stinks, but for now, what we do though is that Smeckton will doom us all. Mark my words.” “It can’t be that bad…” Tommy offered meekly. “Someone has to pass and then be able to leave this place.” I nodded in agreement, being of two minds about this decision still. “Yeah. I mean if too many people didn’t pass, we’d definitely be seeing more option B’s out there in the ‘real’ world. In my neighborhood, I think there’s only, what? Maybe five total, and only two I really know about. Though, not even counting that, there’s been plenty of other people who have passed. Including my brother.” “Well, la dee da for your brother then, John,” Mark said, rolling his eyes. “He probably went to another place, kept his nose clean, and was the most boring person ever for three years.” “You don’t know him…” I was getting a little upset over Mark insulting my brother as just some wall flower, but seeing the trouble brewing, Luke quickly stepped in. “Guys, guys. This isn’t helping.” Mark backed off and I leaned against the wall. We would both have been fine in a second, but Mark was likely thinking of us wasting time in whatever we were about to do and not think of our escape plan. “We need to think of a plan… and fast. I say we go tonight.” “Oh, screw that,” Bill said, tossing his hands up in the air. “We have no plan, no supplies, and we don’t even know what else is out there besides a fence that may or may not be armed with tasers. Face it… we saw a problem, and like a hammer to a nail, we could only see it one way.” “That might be true, but what’s the alternative?” I could tell Bill wanted to respond, but given what we had just heard from Director Breckenridge, we all knew our options here were limited, so Bill stayed silent instead. “That’s what I thought… now, just give me a sec.” Luke sighed and walked away for a moment. The rest of us were too deep in our thoughts about the potential to escape that we just stayed put. Luke then turned back to us. “Look… I don’t know about you all, but this place is going to be the end of me if I stay. I’m not the best academically and I don’t think they give much out in the way of sports bonuses. Plus, for all of us, we make one wrong move and we’re gone.” “Actually, it seemed like we could get multiple demerits,” Tommy piped up. Luke glared at him. Mark patted Tommy on the shoulder. “You get multiple demerits, dummy, but each of those can lead to a punishment of some kind.” He then turned back to the group. “I heard they go semi easy on you the first year and then really start to ramp things up in year two and three.” I shook my head. “No. My brother did all this before. They only ramp up the more lasting punishments. You know… like the diapers.” Everyone around me grimaced. I didn’t know much from my brother, but I knew enough to know that the whole ride here would be painful. “Yeah. And before all that, they can still spank the living daylights out of us, revoke our privileges to nothing, and still fail us to option B right off the bat. Starting tomorrow, it’s pretty much all fair game.” at the end of our time here Luke nodded. “Exactly. We stay here for a long time, and we’re bound to get punished. Heck, we didn’t even hear how many demerits or whatever it would take to get pushed to option B. 100 bucks, I bet you they don’t even keep track. They just make all this stuff up as they go.” “I don’t know…” Bill was unusually silent recently. I could tell he kept looking at the overgrown ivy fence just on the other side of Miller Hall that made a brief appearance looking toward the back from the front of the building. I knew he was planning on leaving, but his feet remained stuck in place. “They don’t seem the type to just leave this to chance.” “Then that’s another proof to my point!” Luke exclaimed. “They’re either tracking us to punish us, and we have no chance of just slipping under the radar here, or they don’t track it all and it’s all more of just a matter of fate… blowing up one way or another. In either scenario, we’re screwed.” I could tell the group, even Tommy now, were seriously considering escape. None of us dared mention out loud or seemingly do the calculations of the odds in our heads, but it was readily apparent that if we had, they wouldn’t have been good. “The system here is rigged and I dare anyone to challenge me on that.” Luke was showing his more domineering side to us and while I felt that could be good for the group in some scenarios, situations like these for us and the day-to-day life here if he stayed would be terrible. With an attitude like that, Luke would succeed out in the ‘real’ world, but it wouldn’t serve him at all her. In fact, it was more likely to hurt him. “We stay here, and we’ll be failed before our third year.” I could see the pain and fear in his eyes. He was putting on a good show in order to convince us, but he was definitely leaving more because this place scared him deeply, rather than some display of heroism in trying to rescue the rest of our group. “So, who’s with me?” We were all silent for a moment, but Mark was the first to step up. “I’m in.” Bill was next. “Me too.” “Same,” Tommy said weakly. The whole group then looked at me. I was the only one left. I really didn’t want to escape and get caught. It was foolhardy to think something like this would ever work, but right then, I thought back to Franklin across the street from me for the past few years. Sure, I could have gone the way of Ben and graduated with a good job and a good life of sorts in the city in four years with a degree. As my dad said, it would all be over quick and just seem like a dream. They were words I had been clinging to, but like a hammer smacking a gong, the image of Franklin kept shoving its way into my thoughts. When he first came home, even before Ben had, we were all shocked and Mrs. Killian stayed out of the public view for weeks afterward. When she finally did emerge though, it took the neighborhood a fair amount of time to adjust to the new and option B Franklin. The diapers were bad, but at least seemed like something physical. I mean, even the elderly were reduced to diapers a lot of the time. Embarrassing, but normal in some circumstances. What got me though, was his mental decline. Franklin had been book smart like Ben, and they had actually shared several classes together all throughout school. Franklin might have been slower in some subjects a bit, which Ben had helped him through occasionally, he had a talent for nearly anything creative. When he got out though… the height of his abilities could be seen doodled in his oversized coloring books. The Franklin everyone liked and even admired was gone. So, when I was given the chance to escape, I thought back to both Ben and Franklin. Of the two, I felt more akin to someone like Franklin with his creative talent. He had failed and he hadn’t even gone to Smeckton. Looking around at my friends, each already making a commitment to leave, I knew my odds were probably better with them. Escaping was stupid, but staying just seemed crazy. “I’m in.” Luke smiled and quickly brought the group in for a huddle. “Alright, we’ve got this. We leave tonight. We still have an hour before we have to be inside, and we can make our plan then. We reconvene in forty minutes back here with what we know. Find out as much as you can and then we escape with whatever plan works best, deal?” “Deal!” We all shouted in unison. We then broke away and smiled broadly over what we were about to do. Maybe it was the idea of escaping or the fact that with the five of us, our chances of finding a plan and escaping were that much better. “Man!” Mark said triumphantly. “We’re going to rocket it out of this place! We totally got this.” We then heard a chuckle come from one of the now shadowed areas nearby. We all froze in horror that maybe a teacher had been listening in on us. We quickly regrouped and faced where the chuckle had come from. “W… Who g… goes there?” I asked cautiously over to the shadowy figure. Another chuckle could be heard, but like some demon escaping from the mystical shadow realm, a somewhat familiar face emerged from the dark, and smiled back at us. “So, you want to escape this dump, huh?” August chuckled once again. We all breathed a sigh of relief, but Luke stepped forward and held up his fist. “Damn it, August! You could have given us all heart attacks. What the hell do you want this late at night?” August stepped closer to our group and his uniform, an unshuffled semi-mess, though being exactly like ours, seemed almost to fit him in a way that made him seem like he was one of those ‘cool’ kids. “Well, I just happened to be walking around and heard the word ‘escape.’ Thought I’d come over and check it out.” He then looked right at Tommy. “Didn’t realize that it was going to be my new roommate and all his new friends.” “Y… you’re not going to tell, a… are you?” Tommy seemed ready to lie down in a ball and cry for the next hour at the prospect of being told on. August seemed offended but only shook his head. “Nah. I’m not that type of guy.” He then turned around and while we were left in confusion, we quickly huddled back together to reform our plan “Of course…” August loudly continued. We all snapped back toward him as he turned around to face us again. “Your plan is stupid and will never work.” He smiled like he knew something we didn’t. “Guess I’ll see you all in the nursery squad next week though.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Oh well.” Right as he began to turn around, Luke stepped up, and shouted, “Wait!” Tommy stopped and looked back at Luke with a smile. “Yes? Something I can do to help you? Luke, right?” Luke nodded and stepped closer to him. “Look, I don’t know what game you’re playing at, but if you have something to say, then spill. Otherwise, we have a plan to get back to.” August folded his arms. “First, you need to say please.” Luke stepped forward again, but Mark quickly stopped him and then looked back at August and smiled. “Sorry about my friend… August. He’s just… well, he’s a little tired. Pay no attention to him.” August sighed and leaned in closer. “Right… was there still something you wanted to say though?” Mark sighed. “Yeah, yeah.” A playful smile then crossed over his face. “Oh, please, August!” Mark over exaggerated each of his words and made it seem like some desperate plea from a damsel in distress, and he was even raising the pitch of his voice to sound more feminine. “You’re our only hope!” Mark then stepped back and cleared his throat before glaring back at August. “There. Happy now?” August smirked and even chuckled for a moment. “Yeah, that’s fine, but…” His eyes then darted around and briefly seemed paranoid and suspicious of everyone. “Not out here though. Follow me.” He quickly waved his hand and took off for Miller Hall’s main entryway. “What do we do, Luke?” Tommy asked as each of hadn’t made a single step to follow August yet. Luke didn’t answer, so I stepped forward. “We follow him.” Everyone looked at me like I had lost my mind. “It’s just one guy and one plan. Right now, we don’t have one and who knows what’s out there. Besides, we go around looking or asking about the perimeter fence and we’re likely to ask the wrong person or raise suspicions of anyone paying even the slightest attention to us.” I then gestured back toward the nearly prancing away form of August. “August though… weird maybe, but if he’s offering something, I say we take it.” Bill nodded and stepped forward as well. “He’s right. I say we see August’s plan or whatever and go back to ours if his doesn’t work. Let’s give it… ten minutes, okay?” Luke briefly grumbled but shirked his shoulders and pretty soon, each of our group was following August back into the building. Moments later, August briefly stopped in front of his door, pressed his finger to his lips and then pointed up to a singular black dot on the ceiling. “Everyone needs to stay quiet and don’t stare for too long, but there… that’s a camera.” There were several black dots on the ceiling in the hallway, and I was honestly thinking they were a spot of mold at first, but now looking closer, I saw the slightly larger black dot, nearly every three in the pattern, over every door to a room in the hallway. Looking up slowly, it didn’t take me long to realize there was a small camera hidden in each of them. “Holy shit!” Bill yelled out. “Shhh!” August chastised him. We all quickly grew tense. “Quiet down or they’ll come running. You can count on that every time.” We all held our breaths for a moment, but when August eased up, we did as well. “You can’t be too careful out here, but come on, I want to show you more.” Once we were all inside, August pointed to the door. “Lock it. They don’t care about locking the door if its less than 30 minutes.” I wondered how he seemed to know so much. Bill was the last one in and punched the lock. A deadbolt quickly slid into place. “Damn! That’s some lock. What are they expecting from these things? An army?” August was already starting to reach under his bed and smiled. “This place was actually designed originally to stop mobs from entering embassy locations. The program brought the designs over and implemented them fully. Only an emergency situation will let you leave at this point if we don’t unlock that door ourselves.” “Damn,” Mark said, but his eyes shifted around, and he stroked his chin. “Wait a minute… maybe we could start a fire and then leave that way. All the locks get undone, in an emergency, right? A fire has to be a type of an emergency.” We all looked at him in disbelief and couldn’t tell if this was another one of his jokes. Finally, Luke spoke up. “No, dude. Just… no.” Mark took a deep breath and scooted over for Luke to take a seat next to him on the bed along with Tommy. “According to my neighbor, her kid started to lose their mind here in Smeckton and tried to set fire to the buildings to escape himself… or maybe to have everyone escape? I’m not sure, but I know that he tried to start that fire.” “Then what happened?” Tommy asked, his eyes wide like he was listening to some campfire horror story. “I’m not sure what exactly, but she says it’s an automatic failure. Can’t say I blame that one though… all those renovated buildings we saw earlier, at least two were started initially because of the fire.” I remembered back to what I had seen during the tour and thought the black marks on the outside of the building were remnants of the construction going on… not some fire another student started. “Regardless, though,” Luke continued, “I know how he ended up. Came back a few weeks later and was about the lowest level you can get here. I think his mind honestly cracked under the strain of whatever they put him through even after option B. Some super program just for the sheer inconvenience of relocating all those displaced students.” Luke paused and looked at the floor in contemplation briefly before looking up to his side and right at Mark. “So, unless you want Barney to be your favorite show or even have that considered too advanced, then I would put that thought right out of your mind.” We all grimaced at the thought of that potential. I thought Franklin was bad, but if his neighbor was something else beyond option B… it drove a spike of cold fear right down my spine. From the silence, I don’t think I was the only one dreading that fate now. After another minute though, the feeling faded, and I refocused on the still rumbling around August. “What the heck are you doing under your bed, August?” He grumbled for a moment, and then craned his head nearly under his arm to look back at us. “Sorry, just needed to get something out.” His head and most of his body dove back under his slightly elevated bed. Unlike Tommy’s bed of normal height, August had elevated his almost three feet off the ground. “I just need to… aha!” August had clearly found what he had been looking for. His body quickly began to slither back out of the hole he had created in his belongings down there. His head soon popped out and he seemed tired but relieved while also carrying something long and cylindrical. August then fully stood up and cracked his back. “This is what I was looking for.” A moment later, he dragged over his desk between the two beds and started to unfurl what was in the now obvious tube. “Sorry about earlier again. I can’t risk others finding this, and I’m putting a lot of trust in you all in seeing this.” “We promise, August,” Bill promised, going so far as to even cross his heart. August smiled and then continued to pull on the tube until it popped just at the top. “Yes! Now, come here you stupid thing.” August then began to wiggle the object inside out of the tube and onto the table. In moments, an at least two-foot-tall scroll was lying on the desk. “Come on. Help me unfurl it.” Curious, all pitched in and rolled the scroll out. In moments, the whole design was revealed. What I thought was only one sheet, however, was actually four all rolled into one. Looking over the designs on the fronts of the sheets of paper, I saw several symbols, and something seemed familiar, but I just couldn’t quite place it. “So, what are they?” Tommy asked, beating me to it. “These,” August said leaning over the papers and waving his hand over them, “are the rough blueprints to Smeckton Institute.” Everyone’s eyes bulged out and they drew closer to the papers below them. August smiled. “Yeah, I thought you would be interested in them…” August then backed off for a moment, and when I could figure out what I was really looking at, beyond the annotations of which building was which, I joined him in the corner of the room. “So, how did you even get these plans? I thought all these plans were deemed top secret now and stored in some government vault ever since they passed that secrecy law a few years ago.” August sighed and nodded. “No, that’s right. One of the reasons I made it a real challenge to find and then get in here, but to answer your question, I got them from my older brother…” I wanted to ask a million and two other questions, but as I went to ask, I turned and saw August. His eyes were fixed on the rest of the group frantically studying over the plans and a smile played around his mouth, but deep in his eyes, I saw pain, loss… sorrow. Having lived with the ‘maturity laws’ most of my life, practically knowing nothing else, I knew that look anywhere. We all did to some degree or another, even if we weren’t entirely aware of it at first. His older brother was probably long gone… an option B candidate. I had seen the same look on Ben and Mrs. Killian’s faces when they first saw Franklin come back home. I could have asked more questions… I wanted to, but with knowing that look, one knew not to ask about it as well. About a minute later, August walked over and decided to actually explain the map. “Now that you’ve gotten a good look at it, let me show you a few things you might’ve missed.” His hand scurried around the papers, specially for the plans of Miller Hall. “As you can see, this place is older and has less security, but escape options are more limited or points of egress are extremely tight and well-armed at least.” His finger quickly pointed to the back stairs of the building. “For example, you come out here, you have to go through two points of encryption at night. Staff and security can just wave their badges and push on through, but we would have to input a code… which changes at least every three days, maybe more.” “And what’s this symbol?” Luke asked, pointing to a circular one that appeared several times and almost looked like a robotic eye. “Those are security cameras…” August explained. “Crap…” Bill seemed dumbfounded and looked like he was even trying to count all the instances of them in Miller Hall alone, but I think he gave up around the fifties. “They can’t all be recording, right?” I could tell that Mark was trying to puzzle everything out that he was seeing and wasn’t having much success. I could also see though that the original look of desperation was still in his movements and face, but his eyes seemed more wary now. Seeing the plans of the buildings myself, I couldn’t blame him. “I’m not sure,” August admitted. “They could be and then just watched on fast-forward later, but they could also just have some AI software built in to detect any movement or even heat signatures. Cameras can do that now and I wouldn’t put it past Smeckton to put a premium on security… especially if it meant that it would get us to stay put, which is what I recommend all you do anyways.” I think Bill, Tommy, and even Mark all were starting to agree, but Luke seemed adamant on leaving still. “Fat chance of that,” he said, seemingly still disbelieving that it was impossible to leave this place. “Mark…” August had previously kept up his cool façade in front of us, but now, I could tell that he was legitimately reaching out to Luke to try and get him to stay. “Just look at the plans.” “I have,” Luke said stubbornly. “They’re just plans, and now that I’ve seen them, we can avoid all the areas. We can leave tonight and be out of the state by morning.” “Luke…” I could tell Tommy was starting to lose his nerve in a big way with the escape plan. He knew he probably wouldn’t make it here either, but escape was starting to seem like something impossible to do… all of which piled on the notion of being caught. Just once, even tonight, and we’d be cooked for the next three years. The Director would have us on his watchlist as a best-case scenario, and there was no way that I saw that turning out well. “No!” Luke was being as stubborn as ever. “I see the plans and we can do this. Don’t you all dare give up on this. We have to do this before it’s too later!” His athletic approach of seeing everything as a challenge and then an obstacle to overcome had probably served him well in sports, but now, it just seemed like a death wish around here. Looking back at the plans, I didn’t see a single one of his ‘gaps’ in the security system. Besides, this was just what we knew about now. It didn’t include any of the new measures they could have added or anything about the outside security problems we would face. For example, I didn’t see a single reference to tasers, yet I knew they existed somewhere on the fence due to the incident with the student and security earlier tonight. Looking over where August was standing, I saw the pain in his eyes again. He seemed oddly desperate for us to stay put and not try and escape. At first, I thought it might have just been a concern for our well-being. It was possible, but as I surveyed August every time that Luke talked about the plans, I could have sworn I saw him flinch a little. I wasn’t sure if I was right in my guess, but I wondered if maybe, with these exact plans, August’s brother had been caught and went to option B that way. It was all just a guess, but it made sense. So, I wanted to stop it all. “Luke!” I stood up and everyone quickly looked at me, but Luke seemed surprised. “I’m sorry for yelling but look at the evidence here. Escaping is folly… especially tonight.” I saw Luke about to object, but I knew what he was already going to say, and I didn’t need to hear it again. “I’m not saying to never try and escape,” I defended, “but we need to know more.” I could tell that Luke was still planning on going tonight, with or without us. Wanting to stop him, I quickly thought of a test. “Fine, then how about this… you tell me where a place I name is, and then you can go.” I looked at the rest of the group. “Everyone is free to go, but I’m just curious…” Luke grumbled for a moment, but then nodded his head. “Fine. Ask your stupid question.” I nodded back at him and then cleared my throat. “Can you tell me where Duffman Hall is?” I saw Luke freeze in his unknown state of mind. I knew he didn’t know that one, so I felt I could make it easier on him. “Or what about the number of the building at least?” Still, he remained quiet and still. I knew I had him. “Wait,” Mark said, standing up. “How are we supposed to know the number? We haven’t even gone to class yet.” I smirked at my victory. “Simple. It’s on your class schedule, but what’s more, the building numbers are listed in order of their location on campus. You know those, you know where you are.” Luke seemed upset over something so simple, but I couldn’t help but smile. I knew I had won. “Fine!” Luke grumbled a little more but then set back down on the bed next to Mark with a huff. I quickly felt relief that we wouldn’t be escaping tonight, but still, I knew I needed to give them hope. “Look, I’m not saying never, but right now, we only have this map.” I looked over it and noticed that the gym was only about half the size that it was now. “Besides, it seems to have changed since it was first drawn up. Minding my manners, I then turned to August. “Thank you very much for your maps, but I also think we need to make some new ones. What do you think?” August smiled and nodded. “You all are stubborn, but that makes at least more sense than what you all had before. And then, how about this? This school takes trips elsewhere… on a few of them, we can map out an escape route that way. Maybe even explore the town… at least so we know what’s beyond the fence.” We all quickly agreed, and the matter was put to rest. Bill, trying to make some conversation, quickly started to ask about Tommy’s posters as August rehoused his papers in the tube and then re-hid it under his bed. It seemed awkward, but after a minute, he got it and then started walking toward the door. “Hey, wait!” I called out just as he opened the door, still within our time limit for tonight and the 30-minute mark for a closed door. “Where are you going?” August turned around to see the whole group staring back at him, the previous conversation between Mark and Luke quickly dying. “Actually… I was just on my way to play some cards in the common room. Figure you all wanted to talk… but maybe…” August seemed to want to say something, but then only shook his head. “Nah… forget it.” But I wanted to know. “No, what? Say it.” “I just… well, I was going to play cards, but if you all want, we can make a game out of it,” he offered. “Poker maybe?” Considering it was our first night here and I think we all seemed ready for some friendship and a small escape from this place, poker sounded nice. So, we all agreed and quickly followed August out of the room and down the corridor. Tommy was nervous, never having played before, but above the rest, he seemed in the most need for a friend here. Finally finding a clean table, August whipped out a deck of cards and began to shuffle them. It didn’t take long for us to realize they were themed after the various punishments here, like regression therapy for the Jack or a transgender symbol instead of a club. Wanting to just play a normal game though, no one said anything about their designs. “Alright, I raise three pencils,” I said about halfway through a hand of Texan Hold’em. I had a royal flush in this hand, but seeing my group of friends aligned with the cards, I couldn’t help but wonder if each of us would take on some different form of punishment while we were here. Who would get the most spankings? Or who would get into diapers the fastest? Or even, who would get feminized out of all of us? The questions plagued my mind, and I knew that was never a good thing in poker. So, determined to win and not overplay my hand, I eased into the bets at first. Now, with three pencils, the equivalent of 45 plastic game pennies or 15 crayons, I was starting to get serious. “I think you’re bluffing,” Mark incorrectly guessed. “I think nothing but a two pair… maybe.” I remained quiet, but Mark was the talker of the group. “I match.” He also laid the three pencils into the pot to match my bet, but I could still tell he was curious about something. “I match as well,” Tommy said. I felt like he was massively bluffing, or maybe just nervous about the game still, but I could see that he was nervous at the table. He moved his bed and took a swing from his water. “I just can’t believe they banned poker though. In a place like this, bummer, right?” August nodded. “You can say that again.” He paused for a moment and looked out the window. After the incident about six years ago here now, I can’t exactly blame them though. I mean, who knew that partner within the game worked for the mob when they were using real money from home.” I felt it was just bad luck for the guy, but I knew I couldn’t be better. A little later, and after another card flip, I saw that it was a number Ten of Pacifiers… the exact card I needed, so I upped the bet. 32 crayons, 6 pencils, and a few pennies in a vault. “Alright, no more raises,” August confirmed after nodding and sighing to us, clearly seeing that it was almost time to pack it in for the night with the 11 or 12 PM deadline now to be back in our rooms. Everyone else bet, and now it was the moment of truth. I released my creatures “Read ‘em and weep, guys,” I said confidently, laying my hand down on the table. I could already tell that I had won, and I smiled broadly when Mark only had a straight and Tommy only had a pair. “Damn!” Mark exclaimed. “You magical or something, John?” I only shook my head. “Nah,” I said casually, just collecting my winnings, “I guess I’m just lucky…” Mark seemed unconvinced, but right then, just as the alarm went off to reenter our rooms, I could only hope that the luck I had experienced tonight would last until tomorrow. “But seriously though, I think we should definitely stick together in college. Like today, could be tough, but for now, let’s just make sure we survive the bullies at last that didn’t want to make. It. Soon though, it was our first day of classes, and I knew that type of first impression often meant the most to young and impressionable students... If I wanted to stay here for the next three years and not head to option B, I knew I had to make tomorrow my best day ever. 8 1
Guilend Posted September 26, 2024 Posted September 26, 2024 Now that's a more sensible plan. Though, I am curious how he got the maps. If his brother did get sent to option B, or worse, because of the maps, then they must've found the maps. The only way I see him getting them is if they knew he had them, but couldn't find them and they broke him and his mind trying to get him to give them up. My guess is that the younger brother getting sent to that center wasn't a random. He better watch his back. They're waiting for him to escape, both so they can catch him with the maps so they can get the back and to be finally finished with that family that's caused them so much trouble. If it was me and I knew there was a slim chance I'd make it, I'd have a little fun. Like playing games with the female staff, making them look incompetent in front of their boss.
zzzz50 Posted September 28, 2024 Posted September 28, 2024 I would think that even a successful escape would bring other problems, they would need a special ID that shows they “graduated “ to get a job or housing. So like a lot of 18 year olds they have to do much more investigation and planning rather than following impulses. I wonder if August is a spy, he seems to know his way around and has the maps. Maybe doing it to help redeem his brother?
LostBBoyBear Posted September 28, 2024 Author Posted September 28, 2024 Hey everyone! I’m going to try as hard as I can to knock out a few chapters writing-wise this weekend. With everything going on right now, I’ve found that I can write a chapter in around the same time I did before, but now, my editing process gets a little bit iffy most days. I think I can work around this, and as I said, this will be a slower story coming out and I have already written more chapters ahead of time, but I think I can make this process even better. Just as a reminder, a new poll is up for you all to let me know which story you all would like to read next. Story options and the link can be found back in the beginning of chapter 2. As I mentioned before though, if you feel more comfortable leaving a comment here or as a private message to me, I will count these as well. Additionally, like before, this poll will be shut down right before I post my final chapter on here. Further announcements will be made regarding this when the time gets closer. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 5: Finding Relief Where One Can Our poker night lasted right up until 11 on the dot. August and Bill came away with most of the winnings, but since it wasn’t real money, we gave them each more of a point of pride instead. As we were leaving, we saw Mr. Hunsinger, the financial teacher, sweep the halls just in case. Apparently, two teachers and three staff members would check the five dorms and would rotate every day. It sounded like a pain, but it truly started to sink in the new reality that we were living now. Still, settling in for the night not long after, Bill and I talked for a little bit about sports, girls… the usual. Right around 12 though, we both drifted off in our room, seemingly eager to get this whole experience over with, but both of us all definitely nervous over what was yet to come on our first day of class tomorrow. Fortunately, from seeing at least her odd and perky demeanor last night, our first class was science with Dr. Pismons. Breakfast was filling but quick in the dining hall, and soon, we were out of the building and then filed into her classroom just off the quad. Today, her hair seemed more matted down, but she was immediately captivating in her room with her quirky sense of self still and all the displays of preserved animals, physic’s contraptions, and posters of nearly every scientific field out there. I felt like I was in middle school again, having a teacher just like her back then, but again, I was more focused on the face behind the glasses now speaking to us. Of all the teachers, I felt like she could at least be one of the ones that could become my ally here. “Science!” she exclaimed wildly as we shuffled in. “It’s the study of nearly everything and in this classroom, we’re gonna have to go fast to cover it all. I expect each of you to keep up, but failure to do so here will be punished.” Getting settled into my seat; I could tell that several students already seemed like they were on the verge of a mental breakdown. Ben had mentioned during his first Thanksgiving break that a lot of students hadn’t even made until then, but their first day jitters perfectly encapsulate just how serious our situation was. A small part of me was regretting not even attempting to escape last night, but I quickly pushed that thought out of my head as simply ‘pure foolishness’ as my dad used to say. Dr. Pismons then started to hand out a packet of information. “This is our syllabus for the upcoming year. Since this is your first class, know that at the end of each full year here, you will take a final exam of sorts in each of your studies. Each will review the material from the previous year, and they must be passed. No second chances. Failures in those exams will be met with a failure of the program, or further punishments if deemed acceptable by the teacher giving the failed exam.” She pressed her glasses back up her long nose and pressed against her face. “I actively encourage each of you,” she warned, “to take these exams seriously. I’ve lost count of how many of you don’t take them seriously and well…” She sighed and I saw a similar sadness come over her face that I had seen here before with some of the teachers last night. “Let’s just say that for those of you who don’t take it seriously, I don’t think you’ll need to worry about exams ever again with where you’ll be going…” Everyone sat in silence, but Pismons didn’t miss a beat when she got back to the head of the classroom, after completing her loop around each of our tables. Of the about 30 or so students, only a few didn’t look like they were about to hurl in that moment. “Now, then,” she said, her face switching nearly 180 degrees back to her cheerful self. “One last thing before we get started today. In here, I don’t administer punitive or physical punishments like a spanking as others will.” A collective sigh of relief could be heard. “Yes, yes. Very wonderful for your tushes I’m sure, but…” Everyone snapped back to attention. There always seemed to be some sort of exception around here. “If you should fail, slack off, or cause a disruption in my class, be warned, I will use you to experiment on…” Her eyes shifted over to a nearby rack of already concocted mixtures. Alarmingly, a few even independently glowed or bubbled perpetually. Still, she soon explained that we were going to be learning about earth sciences first within the curriculum. Later courses would cover chemistry and then physics after that. So, with time running out and a clap of our hands, we all started reading through the notebooks that were displayed in front of us. Tommy started reading the page with a nervous anticipation. “It says to go out in a few groups and collect samples of nature.” “It also says not to kill or bring back anything living. Doing this will ensure an immediate failure of today.” Luke looked up from his own reading and stared at the group. “What the heck do you think that means?” Mark rolled his eyes. “It means that if it gushes, wiggles, or gets your hand wet, don’t bring it back.” We all chuckled for a moment and then divided ourselves into groups of two, but we also gravitated toward each other while walking outside and then again to four other members of the class. Bruce, Eddy, Giovani, and Mike were all roommates, clearly not the upper-class snobs or bullies either, and seemed fearful and annoyed with the institute as well. Walking along the hallway, it became readily apparent that the class had naturally divided itself into three groups of about ten each. Our group seemed more middle of the road, but also the most diverse of the three. The second group was primarily composed of the elite of the school, those like Nelson, or their followers, like Dilbert and Ted. The third and final group seemed to be the most apt to breaking the rules or not following instructions. They were already given a warning in class, and when Tommy tried to help them, we kept him back. It might have been cruel on the outside here, but rules were different in here. For them, we knew it was just a matter of time before they got in trouble. Likely, anyone in their group, whether they were guilty or not, would get dragged down with them as well. So, for someone like Tommy, he wouldn’t last the week in a group like that. “Thanks a lot for including us,” Bruce said quickly later as their group began to nearly seamlessly merge with our own as we started to walk outside for our project. “That damn Nelson and Dilbert duo have been trying to get under our skin since we met them yesterday.” “Yeah… us too…” Tommy said, still wincing a little at the mention of their names. I didn’t want to think of what would have happened to him if we hadn’t intervened. We all then joked on our way to the small patch of nature just outside of the classroom. Dr. Pismons mostly kept to herself, but occasionally, I would see her glance over, likely to make sure that none of had run off. Still, she seemed more interested in picking some nearby daisies than what we were doing. “Look at that,” Nelson soon sneered as he walked over with his group, “always good to see the runts of this place playing in the mud.” A soft laugh rose up from behind him. Looking behind him, I could see there were a lot of members I didn’t get their name yet, but Dilbert and a new kid, Ted, were right behind him and seemed like they were his number twos. Unlike Nelson and Dilbert however, Ted was tall and hulking in likely a slightly unhealthy way. From the way he stood apart from Nelson and Dilbert, I could tell he was likely just their bodyguard. “Step off, Nelson,” Luke warned. Taking a page from my book of defiance to them from yesterday, the group had vowed last night to stand up for them but try to avoid getting in trouble as well. Fortunatrely, today, Nelson just back up and sneered at us. Nearby, Dr. Pismons also stopped what she was doing and looked over at us. Fortunately, from her angle, it was readily apparent to anyone caring in the slightest that Dr. Pismons would have seen everything. So, not wanting to be thrown out on my fist day, I pulled back on Luke’s shoulder. “It’s not worth it, man. Dr. P is watching,” I whispered. He looked over at the casually observing teacher, sighed, shrugged his shoulders, and then walked his own frustrations off rather than into Nelson and his group. “That’s right. Just walk away!” Dilbert taunted from behind, worming his way to the front to get his own shots in without the fear of confrontation. I could tell he was a coward, especially when compared with Ted, but his slippery ways seemed something to keep an eye on to avoid if all possible. With that, our group started observing the various flora and remnants of the fauna in the area. We couldn’t bring back the rabbits we saw, or the flowers themselves, but according to our book, evidence of their existence was sufficient enough. Pretty soon, the entire class had gathered enough debris to start walking back in. As soon as we tried to walk through the door though, Nelson and his crew bumped into each of us. “Oops!” Nelson mockingly apologized. It was clear he didn’t mean it, and while I could see that Luke wanted another go at them, again, Bill and I held him back. It just wasn’t worth it. “Okay everyone,” Dr. Pismons began to announce. “I’m sure that you all found some absolutely enchanting specimens, but rather than simply observing the honor code, here in science class, we need evidence. To ensure that all have complied with my no living rule, I want you all to turn out your pockets in the next 10 seconds. I’ll count you down.” I wondered if either of the other groups had taken anything, but I was supremely confident that our group was fine. So, I thrust my hand into my coat pocket fist. Unfortunately, my hand bumped into something. ‘Oh no…’ I panicked and looked into my open pocket to see a smattering of torn flowers, clearly ones that had been living only minutes before. I then remembered the bump from Nelson and all and looked up to figure out what to do. At the same time though, I saw panicked looks on our whole groups faces. ‘Shit… they got us.’ It was another stunt by their group onto ours and they knew they could get away with it. They had done the crime, but with Dr. Pismons still counting down, the look our group exchanged with each other showed that we knew that in less than 3 seconds now, we were all going to get caught, and worse, get into trouble. “Pockets out and hands up!” We all complied and Dr. Pismons started walking around to inspect us. Curiously, instead of coming to our nearby table first, she chose us last. It didn’t matter though. She still saw what each of us had laid on the table. “Oh no…” She slowly adjusted her glasses and picked up a single pink flower from Mark’s tray of evidence on the table. Even his normal smile was nowhere to be seen. Dr. Pismons then looked at him with disdain, but something else was there as well. “Mark… did you do this?” The evidence was right there, and Mark was no idiot. A jokester, but not an idiot. If he denied the flower’s existence, he probably knew that would just upset Dr. Pismons even more, but he couldn’t tell her that he had picked the flower either. I was next to him nearly the entire time, and that statement I knew would have just been a lie. Considering the rules of no lying, especially to staff, he was in a no-win scenario. So, he just hung his head down in defeat. “I see…” Dr. Pismons eyed the rest of our damning evidence but only clutched onto the single pink flower she had plucked first from Mark’s tray and then walked up to the front of the classroom. She sighed and then looked up from her previous downward stare into the floor. “You lot… up to the front.” Before, she nearly seemed excited for us to test out her punishments. I thought of her sadistic ways pouring out of us in humiliating ways or being sick for days afterward. After all, this was an institute where regression therapy was an active punishment protocol, so for a mad scientist like Dr. Pismons, anything felt possible. Still, not wanting to defy her, each of our group of 10 marched up to the front and faced the class in shame. Several members from the other two group chuckled at our expense. “Hmmm…” Dr. Pismons hovered over to her rack of concoctions and browsed each shelf, making several amused noises as she did so. “Yes… yes, this one.” She quickly plucked a near mason jar size brew from the upper shelf and held it in front of her. It was red, bubbled, and contained a single eye dropper attached to the top. Dr. Pismons sighed again as she pulled out the dropper and showed the swirling mixture inside to us. “This is just going to be a warning for you boys today. I suggest in the future that you don’t tempt me further. I assure you; you don’t want something from the bottom shelf.” Each of our eyes went wide in horror, but when instructed, each of us sill bent down slightly, stretched out our tongues and tipped our heads back when she instructed. A single drop then fell on each of our tongues, and we were quickly told to go back to our seats. I could tell that the class was disappointed in wasn’t a larger spectacle, but not much later, right about as we started to look up and classify what we had brought in from the outside, my tongue began to burn. I shifted slightly in my seat, trying to ignore the sensation. I saw the others were doing it as well, and at first, I could just ignore it pretty plainly. It wasn’t too bad, but the sensation persisted. It grew like a spreading fire, and I was no wimp to spicy foods, but this… my eyes began to involuntarily water. “Ah!” Tommy said, breaking down first. He shot his tongue out and pointed at it with tears in his eyes as well. “Put it out! Put it out!” “Ah… shit!” Bill was next and even took the liberty of trying to wipe his tongue off on his arm. Probably dangerous and unsanitary in a science classroom, but even then, he didn’t seem to get relief. Then, one by one, each of us bent to the power of the spice mixture now enveloping our tongues. August was last, but it didn’t take long before we were all hopping around and panicking to some degree or another. Of course, at our expense, the class burst into laughter. I looked to Dr. Pismons for help but saw that she was actively ignoring us and watching the clock. Almost to the minute though, three minutes after August gave in, she decided we had enough and quickly gave each of us a dropper of a milky and silvery liquid. The relief was nearly instantaneous and while we all thanked her in relief, I could tell each of us all hated her a little bit now as well. “Okay. Fun’s over,” she then announced. We took our seats, and everyone started to quiet down once more. “I want to see you all after class though…” She gestured at us, and I couldn’t help but groan a bit, thinking that yet another torturous experience was upon us. The rest of the lesson went rather quickly after that and each of us finished the assignment and received top marks for the day, as well as homework we had to complete before the next class period. It wasn’t the greatest news for us hoping that graduating high school would have at least eliminated that from our lives, but I was more focused on Dr. Pismons as everyone then left the classroom. As soon as the last student left though, Dr. Pismons walked over to us with an oddly sympathetic glance. “Are you all okay?” Her question was so simple and yet so sincere and caring. It took most of us by shock. “Okay?” Luke asked with a bit of anger in his voice. “No. You gave us some drug and our tongues were nearly on fire. That’s not okay.” Dr. Pismons chuckled and then held her hands up defensively when most of us couldn’t help but flash her a dirty look. “Sorry, sorry. Just… you all made the funniest of faces, but fortunately, very convincing.” “Huh?” Tommy questioned. We were all stumped now. “Convincing. For the others I mean…” We all confusedly looked at her still and she sighed. “Look, I know it wasn’t you all who killed those flowers today, but Nelson and his group are tricky. By the time I realized what had happened, their trap was already in place. They needed to see it through, or they would have done something worse or escalated their attacks to me in a way. I can’t have that.” She quickly paused. “See, I need some students to fear me, but I can go for respect for others… like you all.” “So, all this was just some test?” Mark asked, his confusion just starting to fade. Dr. Pismons waffled her hands around. “Eh. Kind of. I hope for your respect, but I needed the others in the class to fear what I can do to them. I gave you one of the more minor concoctions on the shelf and one that has a quick fix. The others… not so much. So, be warned, but know that I’m on your side if you still respect me, okay? I am a friend I hope, but other teachers might not be so kind. Just be careful with Nelson and all…” I wasn’t sure how the others felt, but I wasn’t sure how to take her class or her ‘minor’ punishment of us or even her warning about Nelson and his lot. It definitely could get worse, and she definitely didn’t seem to be friends with Nelson and all, but the punishment was still there. Regardless of her intentions, I still felt a little burned. I moved on, but I hoped the other teachers wouldn’t be so mercurial. It turns out though, mercurial might have been a good thing… especially after we met with Mr. Fitzpatrick during our fitness class. “I don’t want any crybabies here!” he belted out as soon as we were assembled in our gym uniforms. “I expect nothing but the best from my athletes, and here, you will give me the best, or so help me, I will take it out on your asses.” We all froze in panic over spending another three years with this guy. I could already see that several of the more unstable students around me were sucking in their guts and trying their hardest to not have an emotional breakdown on the spot. As for our group, Tommy was shaking so much that August had to briefly hold him up. Apparently, sports and general fitness were not his strong suits. “Now, we’re gonna run a mile. Anyone complains, and I’ll make it two, three, even four,” he threatened. Once he got tot the end of the markings on the gym floor, he snapped back to us and began his pacing back and forth in front of us once more. “We do not complain here, and no, effort will not get you to pass. Only success will. Do you get me?” his eye bulged out as he briefly stopped. “We get you,” we said as a group. Mr. Fitzpatric didn’t seem satisfied though. “Oh, we have a few little girlies here, huh? Sounds like another program we have here will be just right for you all… or am I wrong?” I remembered one of the punishments that Director Breckenridge had mentioned last night, and I think everyone else did as well. “We get you!” we belted out again, clearly doing anything in our power not to upset our new teacher. “Good,” he said with a smile for the first time today. He then blew his whistle loudly and pointed to the painted track lapping around the basketball court. “You run this now and don’t stop until I tell you.” He blew his whistle again before we had a chance to respond. “Now move!” Terrified of his presence, everyone started running. Luke, being the most athletic of our group, soon surged ahead with Bill and a few of our new friends. Mark, August, and most of the class were about in the middle, but Tommy, me, and a few others were all lagging in the back. Now, I wasn’t exactly out of shape or anything. I liked hiking and stayed pretty active otherwise, but I also hated running in a structured way like this. It wasn’t the only reason though. Mostly, I stayed behind the others at the back of the pack for Tommy. He was pulling up the rear after a single lap and I could see Mr. Fitzpatrick coming in with what looked like a riding crop in his hands. He started blowing his whistle and yelling at Tommy. “Move on, you pathetic excuse for a man!” It was all the toxic nonsense that everyone thought we had finally moved away from in recent years, but I knew it was just being used to humiliate Tommy. It was cruel, but worse, it was working. Tommy was shaking already and seemed ready to cry at the drop of a hat. I could see the fear in his eyes every time he turned around and saw Mr. Fitzpatrick get closer with his riding crop. I was half-tempted to take the punishment over my new friend, but I knew that would just harm me and one day, could break me if I wasn’t careful. Seeing Mr. Fitzpatrick nearly fuming over Tommy’s slowness, I knew I didn’t want him as an enemy in this class. So, I dropped back just a little. “Psst! Tommy!” I tried to say under my breath as I got to within whispering distance of my new friend. “Come on. He’s coming for you and we gotta move!” “I can’t!” Tommy breathed heavily and weakly. I sighed heavily and I knew I needed to get him to move faster, so I moved behind him and started poking him in the back. It wasn’t hard, but I made sure to combine it with a few words of encouragement. “Come on! You got this! Block out everything but in front of you and me. Fitzpatric doesn’t exist. Just you and me. You got this.” I wasn’t sure if I was helping him in the long term or not, but I knew that like most problems here, I just needed to take them one day at a time. Tommy was a good kid, and if he was only bad at one thing, I felt it shouldn’t be the weight around his neck that kills him around here. Fortunately, my encouragement seemed to work. Mr. Fitzpatrick seemed frustrated by the notion though. “Oh boy! You all are finally running, but I bet it’s hard and tiring. How about maybe we take it easy, huh? What a about a nice walk around or just messing with some tiny friendly games. How’s that sound?” The rest of the group seemed to hear him and began to slow down. I made sure Tommy ignored it as well, so it wasn’t long before we actually caught up with everyone. “Come on. I can make this all easier for you. No more hard work, no more frustrations here… just pure relaxation,” Mr. Fitzpatrick tempted us. I could see that several were tempted to stop, including Bill and Eddy. “What are you doing?” I annoyedly asked the two. “It’s just a little break,” Eddy said innocently. “Yeah, John. No big deal. He’s offering, so why not?” I rolled my eyes at my roommate. Bill was great but I was starting to wonder if he ever thought anything all the way through. “No, you idiot,” I said to him with a little frustration laced in my voice. “Don’t you two get it?” Eddy and Bill shook their heads. I sighed and felt like I needed the biggest thank you after today. “He’s tricking you! You slow down and he catches you… he’s going to punish you. If you accept his offer, I’ll bet you anything that it’s a one-way ticket to option B.” Both looked at me skeptically and I groaned. “Come on! Making all this easier and do something relaxing? Does that really sound like his style for us, or does it just seem like something a bunch of option B students would do before they got shipped out?” I could see the moment it clicked in their eyes. Both started cursing under their breath, and they and several others around us picked up the pace. It meant that Tommy and I started to lag behind again, but it turns out, not everyone had heard me. Another student, one who was a little overweight, started to fall behind. It wasn’t long before I started looking around, and to my surprise, I didn’t see Mr. Fitzpatrick. Still running in a loop, it wasn’t long before we found him again… along with the other student. Except now, the student was being buckled into the wall with his hands high above his head and Mr. Fitzpatrick was stalking around him with his riding crop. We didn’t hear their conversation at first, but we heard the first crack of the riding crop smack the student on the butt. It echoed throughout the gym and our pace increased in fear that it could become us soon if we lagged behind. The student was still clothed, so he had some luck, but the snap of the riding crop sounded horrible and rang out in our ears. “You filthy, fat, lard of a student!” He smacked the student again on the butt as we got closer and could hear better. “You actually took my offer? How stupid are you? Anyone with a brain could tell I was laying a trap! Geesh, I bet you won’t last a month here. Pity…” More smacks rang out and we all decided to just focus on our own running. Fortunately, not long after, seemingly satisfied with doling out some punishment, Mr. Fitzpatrick stopped us and let us get some water. Getting closer to the end of class now, or at least the time we would break to get a shower and then head off to lunch, everyone felt at ease… until Mr. Fitzpatrick rolled a single red rubber ball over to where we were standing. We all stared back at him and couldn’t believe he was suggesting what he was if we were guessing right. “That’s right…” he said with a giant grin all over his face. “Dodgeball.” It had been banned for years in school settings, but each of us knew not to point that out… except for one student. “And you think this is high school, little boy?” The student that had asked the question and noted that it wasn’t allowed in high school, quickly shrank back into the rest of our class. “And let that be a lesson to all of you going forward. This isn’t high school! We don’t care what you did or didn’t do then. All that matters is now, so… pick up a ball and start dodging!” We didn’t need anymore prompting from the cantankerous and old-fashioned bully of a fitness teacher. Soon, dozens of balls were being hurdled back and forth across the gym. Mr. Fitzpatrick did little to regulate or intervene on the rules, even when Giovani got nailed by three balls at once. Still, once the game was over and we all limped away, the class was at least over. Nursing our wounds and spirits from the day so far, lunch was mostly quiet, and I could tell that each of us in our own ways was dreading the rest of the day. We still had two more classes. My only solace was though I was terrible at math, our creative class was soon after. Shuffling along, we then entered Mr. Grays classroom about routines. Curious, unlike most of the others, this class had been mostly mute when it came to course descriptions in the packet that we had been sent over the summer in what to prepare for. If it was what I suspected though, I felt it was a trap waiting to happen. “Excuse me,” Mr. Gray began. His voice barely cut through the chatter, and he seemed mostly bored with his job honestly. I wondered if that was just his personality type or if teachers were forced to take certain needed positions when and where they could in these institute. “I said, uh, excuse me class…” Finally, everyone started to die down, but I think that was mainly because they saw Mr. Gray staring back at them, rather than a command of respect or authority around him. “Yes, thank you. I’m Mr. Gray…” He started to write his name on the front board and then turned back to us. “As you might have guessed, this class is all about routines. As you might have guessed, I will be one of the first classes you drop in order to take a different elective next year for, or for the unlucky few of you, an as of yet to be announced class.” He wavered for a moment and his expression briefly turned sadder and more morose. “I’m sure you all can guess though…” “Sir?” Nelson was raising his hand. The action oddly shocked me, but I was at least glad the guy could follow rules some of the time. “Yes… Nelson?” Most of the teachers so far had seemed to memorize our names, but I wondered just how they could do that for over 400 students. It baffled me, but I listened in close to Nelson’s question. “Uh, why routines? I mean, they’re routine,” he said with a bit of attitude. “We do them all the time. Why do we need to learn about them again. I know I know how to do all that stuff.” “I would wager so,” Mr. Gray said back to Nelson with a straight face. “Why do you think you need to take this class?” Nelson shrugged. For once, I couldn’t blame him. “I’m not sure… hence my question.” Mr. Gray cracked a small smile and then leaned over on Nelson’s desk. “Tell me then… what is the proper way to set a table, or fold a napkin, or brush your teeth? Do you know?” It was immediately apparent that Nelson didn’t as he started to shrink down in his desk out of embarrassment for being called out like that. “Hmphhh!” Mr. Gray turned away and clicked the projector on and I think that was the first time I had seen any emotion in the neutral and plan teacher. “That’s what I thought.” As the projector sprung to life, Mr. Gray looked back at all of us with an intense expression. “When you come in here, don’t assume you know anything. Just stay quiet and listen. Trust me… you fail this class, you can just kiss your chances of making it two years here, let alone the full three.” I think it was at that point that everyone realized that while important on its own merits by now, especially with the mindset of the institute preparing us for what came after, it was obvious that the trap I had feared this class was, was just that. Especially if they included routines like brushing your teeth or going to the bathroom, a single slip up there could only mean disaster. At that realization, everyone immediately straightened up. First up was all about going to the bathroom. It seemed so basic and most everyone groaned, but I quickly remembered the regression punishment that Director Breckenridge had mentioned. Seeing the screen of babies and even adults in diapers, which only elicited a chuckle from the class, I saw it all as a warning. I quickly jabbed Bill. “Hey!” he said in quiet, nearly whispered surprise. “What was that for?” He looked pissed at me, and I realized I jabbed him a bit too hard, but I knew what I was thinking was important going forward. “Look…” I pointed to the screen and tried to emphasize the adults. Bill still didn’t get it and I sighed and then took a big breath of air as Mr. Gray clicked on with the lesson. “This stuff is important. If they test us at the end of the year and we fail potty training… do you really want to test the theory about a class about bathroom habits in a place that has already threatened to take the mere visit to the bathroom as a rule violation for a punishment?” “Oh…” I saw Bill understand immediately understand what I was telling him. “Shit.” I nodded and had to suppress a laugh from escaping my mouth after seeing his panicked face over something as simple as bathroom habits. In any other world or time, the notion would have been just as ridiculous, but I had suppressed my smile, because here, it was gravely serious. Looking around the room, particularly at those who had heard me, seemed lost in their own thoughts. They were paying attention now, but I wondered if each was thinking about someone that they knew who had failed here and who no longer needed to learn about bathroom habits. Sure, some parents tried to teach their kids when they returned home after failing at an institute, but it was just too heavily engrained. For one reason or another, an no matter the thousands of excuses as to why a parent would try and re-potty training their kid, nothing worked. There was just a block there and most gave up. A few even gave up rights to their kid and never saw them again. Those situations were tragic, but as far as I was concerned, this whole project, law, and institute was tragic. Looking around the room, one could see that plainly. I mean, here we all were in the primes of our lives, and we were currently spending our time learning about the proper hygiene of how to go the bathroom. Sure, a lot of guys seemed to forget that and just stroll right out after using the urinal, but to make it a class… it was a tragedy for sure. Like everyone else though, I had to just sit through the tragedy and learn all about bathroom routines. At this point, I knew my very future depended on me passing the class… no matter how stupid or sad it was. Finally, his class was over. Neither he nor any of us students seemed to want to be there, but I felt that even if he had been a genuine excitement in his talks about bathroom habits, I would have still felt this way. Next was the final class of the day, the creative class. Filing in, I was immediately struck by the sheer size of the class. At first, I thought I was in the wrong room, but the group all confirmed they had the same class number and location as well and that this was the creative classroom. Still curious though, I asked around, but only got the same response. “Relax, John,” Bill tried to comfort me after a second and once we had found our seats. “I’m sure we’re in the right place. Everyone else is as well, so I’m sure our class is what? Maybe a little over 50?” I turned to him with a confused look. “50?” He nodded. “50… Bill, this class has almost 100 people. How the heck is Ms. Diaz going to teach us all.” Before he had a chance to answer though, Ms. Diaz came in loud and started clapping her hands. Sadly, it took everyone a minute to realize it was a call and response dialogue that she wanted. After a moment, she stopped and even from being in the sea of almost 100 students, I could see her beaming. “Welcome everyone to the creative class!” Several students, including me, clapped. In a world of science and numbers, creative outputs often felt good. She then bounced her hands up and down at about her mid-shoulder height to quiet us back down. It worked. “Oh! Such good listeners, and that’s going to work just great today, because today is… music day!” I heard a few groans, some sighs, but the vast majority soon cheered. I did as well. “Now, before we begin, I just want to let everyone know that this is going to be the size of your class. Because of how the schedule works, each of the blocks of days you’re with me, we get to learning something else.” She then clicked one on her slide projector. “As I said, today is music day. Second block days are about art for you all, and third days will be more about drama, acting, or even directing, costumes, or writing.” I could quickly tell that some of our group was going to love this class, and some were going to despise it. Fortunately, Bill seemed entranced by the concept. “As we move along though, this class will get smaller.” She sighed a painful mourn of loss. “Sadly, it’s just how things are around here, however, unlike fitness, if you move closer to option B, I won’t change the lesson plan. I might need you to wash you hands off from the mud or the much they might have just been in from other classes, but here, everyone is equal. Even our art. We all say nice things and try to help each other out when asked.” Several nodded and I realized I was already feeling the relief from being here. She then clicked the slide and revealed a bass and treble clef along with several form of notes. “As we progress, we will level up our skills. For some of you, that might mean treading over old territory, so if you see someone struggling, then give them a hand. If I see you don’t and then act mean about it, it will be one of the few times I dole out punishment directly. Around here, punishment usually means a lack of fun times or small humiliations, such as not being able to use your thumbs or wrists when painting a picture. The lecture was long, but I actually did learn something about vibrato, and it was all still fun. Also, and as odd is it might sound to some, I realized that I was feeling more relief here than all of the rest of my day combined. I had always sought solace in the arts back home whenever I felt stressed, and I quickly realized just how true that would remain here at the institute. Still, the class soon ended, and we all wandered away back to our dorm rooms. Dinner was in a little over an hour and I could tell that everyone needed a second to chill out and decompress from the day. Bill and I talked about our thorns and roses for a moment, but I could tell that we were both content that if nothing else today, our first day was now over at least. We had survived our official first day. Now, we only had about 1,094 to go. 9 1
Diaperingdaddy Posted September 28, 2024 Posted September 28, 2024 Really enjoying the reality you are creating! Look forward to seeing some of them slide into punishment mode!
Operational Systems Posted September 28, 2024 Posted September 28, 2024 The gym class is a strange contrast. On the one hand, this entire institution is premised on the fear of the young adult male, - their power, independence, masculine urges, all need to be checked and if not controlled then suppressed and reduced. But the gym lets the worst of the worst escape that cycle, by imposing their masculine bullying strength on the other boys, which is precisely the most egregious and least accepting of masculine vices. Science class implied that too, but it was a ruse by the teacher. I feel like you're close to saying something important here - what are masculine virtues, what are masculine vices, and how does society curtail the first while tolerating the second. I liked how they're all very infantilizing in their approach to the students. "Go and pick up stuff outside like this is preschool" or "wash your hands after potty" (Which 2/3rds of men don't do). It's strange because everyone would have different backgrounds for scholarly or physical talent by this point, and they're being shoved together in a way that is clearly not academically or (in the case of gym) athletically optimal for growing each person. The school is designed to weed out the inferior - those laxing in some heroic traits (possibly including luck). The art class is interesting in that, even after being infantilized, you the author are saying - even these adult babies are capable of producing art, of being creative, - and there is some virtue in this orthogonal towards what society says about what are the good men and who are the bad. The art these men produce is a different kind of masculine virtue. It's a kind of Homeric story, though also being built on a few coming of age boys prep school stories and those tropes, which again is often a place for Homeric stories of masculine virtues and how boys turn into men. The fantastical works especially here, as instead of our heroic student going to some magic school to learn how to be a wizard, and we follow his adventures and he learns cool magic along the way, our hero has been sent to adult baby school. The trick will be leaving stronger and better for it, with only a few soggy diapers along the way. 1
parkintochter Posted September 29, 2024 Posted September 29, 2024 wow, I really like that premise. Also you write pretty fast. Thank you for the story! I can't wait to read more of it.
LostBBoyBear Posted September 30, 2024 Author Posted September 30, 2024 Hey everyone! So, even though I wasn’t able to post another chapter yesterday, I definitely was able to belt out a few chapters writing wise. This should help going forward and I think my schedule should be a little easier for editing these stories as well. I’m not sure if that will lead to more chapters coming out at a faster pace, but at least now that the introductory periods are done, we can finally get into some of the good stuff. From what I’m seeing, you all seem to appreciate the punishments in particular. Also, though, keep in mind that the ‘maturity laws’ have only been in effect for 15 years. Someone like Mr. Fitzpatrick is the reason they were implemented, but he was able to avoid them due to his older age already when they first were implemented. In my own head cannon at least, I feel the rest of the staff would despise him and I definitely think at least one of them is secretly scheming to regress him somehow, but they also need his tact, or lack thereof, to break some of the students on that front. Also, though, I unfortunately don’t think I’ll have the space in this story to focus on him that much for all that. I’ll see how things go, but I just wanted to point that out just in case any of you felt like he was a walking contradiction to this universe. Just as a reminder, a new poll is up for you all to let me know which story you all would like to read next. Story options and the link can be found back in the beginning of chapter 2. As I mentioned before though, if you feel more comfortable leaving a comment here or as a private message to me, I will count these as well. Additionally, like before, this poll will be shut down right before I post my final chapter on here. Further announcements will be made regarding this when the time gets closer. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 6: Twice the Work, Twice the Hardship Waking up the next morning, I dreaded the second day more than the first, and I felt pretty confident, though maybe pessimistically so, that today would be even worse. Yesterday, was all about paying off the speculation. The rumors, the stories, the near mythic tales of what happened in places like this institute had been trickled into my ears for nearly all my life. Each story seemed more fantastical than the last, but now, I was here and unfortunately living it myself. Yesterday, it seemed only the foolhardy, weak, or vulnerable were punished, but even then, the stories didn’t seem to compare with what every student now faced here. Dr. Pismons and Ms. Diaz seemed the only ones on my side so far, at least in opposing this whole system, but even Dr. Pismons had laced mine and my group’s tongues with some fiery concoction of hers. She claimed it was a minor punishment and eventually put it out, but considering my tongue had felt like it was being seared into by a pair of flaming hot tongs, the punishment, especially for something she even knew that we didn’t do, felt extreme. So, looking at our class schedules with my group, we all began to dread the tasks ahead of us. Yesterday, was creative music, basics, science, and fitness. Each subject was daunting for the sole fact that we had never experienced them in this institute’s capacity, but looking at today’s schedule, I could feel that queasy feeling starting to bubble up again. “What the heck do you think etiquette is about?” I asked everyone worriedly as we walked to our math class, another one I was dreading, especially if it was anything like my previous history with the subject where the label ‘average’ felt like an accomplishment during some of the years for me. “Maybe it’s like sitting upright at a table or something?” Bill suggested, scratching his head and clearly just as confused as I was. “No, no,” Mark chimed in, a smile appearing on his face. He seemed to be the only one in a good mood, or at least was the only one able to fake it today. “It’s where they get you to act all dainty like.” The jokester as always, Mark even bent low with a goofy face to mock what we were going to do today.” We all chuckled. Tommy didn’t. “Laugh all you guys want, but remember those punishments?” We nodded. “Yeah… those were all very real and etiquette is as much as steppingstone to option B or other as finger painting would be.” I knew in this case that he was referring to the feminization punishments that Director Breckenridge had mentioned, but for me, those were still a long way off, and knowing this institute so far, when it became an issue, it would be very hard to miss. So, with a sad dose of our new reality between accomplishment and utter failure, we all made it to math class first, a little silent after Tommy’s comment. I could see the worry plainly with Bruce, Luke, and Giovani specifically, but I knew I just had to focus on one task at a time rather than get freaked out by all the possibilities. Right now, it was the uptight teacher walking in and seemingly muttering something to himself. Not wanting to take a chance with a person like that, I made sure to sit around my group in the gird pattern of desks before he instructed everyone else to do the same shortly after. “Yes, yes. Good job for being able to sit by yourselves.” His tone seemed both mocking and annoyed, and I felt having math first thing in the morning was going to be the bane of my existence. “Now, I know you all don’t want to be, just as much as I don’t want to be here.” His icy glare scanned the room, and he leaned in on his desk. “I mourn for your generation. Gone are the days of higher learning for four full years!” He smacked his desk lightly. “Now, they just want you to know a few things this first year. Basics, really. I weep for you all.” He sighed and started writing his name on the board in chalk, a rarity now and clearly a personal choice and quirk of his. He spun back around once he finished. “I’m Mr. Bellbody. You all will address me as such and nothing more.” He then passed between us and started handing out packets of information haphazardly. At one point, his chalky and musty tweed sleeve of his arm came within about an inch of my face. If I hadn’t ducked. I would have gotten whacked directly in the center of my face. Out of fear for upsetting him even more, I chose not to mention it out loud to him. “This is your syllabus for this first year. Memorize it. We go through all the steps of math and some advanced studies even on your first year. Next year, we’ll start learning some of the more complicated and newer things with math.” He then rolled his eyes heavily. “My problem,” he began again after a moment, “is that standards just aren’t what they used to be, so today, I want to see where you’re at. As such, under your all’s desk is a white board, an eraser, and a marker. Pick them up and then look back at me when you’re ready to use them.” As instructed, I picked up the white board and the attached erase and black marker within the small cubby within my desk. Mr. Bellbody quickly fidgeted with the projector, technology clearly not being his strong suit, but he finally got it working and clicked to the first slide. My jaw nearly fell to the floor over seeing the complicated differential equation. Having come just from high school, the equation seemed closer to Greek, Chinese, or Arabic than an actual math problem. I had seen it before in one of the documentaries about the space program… maybe, but not much more beyond that. I could feel my pulse quicken and my breath become very short. ‘Did he really expect us to know something like that right now?’ Mr. Bellbody then cleared his throat. “This is a complex equation above most of your abilities, however, it’s a good place to start as any other at this juncture. There are a series of slides here. I will click through them, and you will be given a certain period of time, varying with each slide, to solve the problem. The more complex, the longer you will be given. When you have the answer, show me and I will mark you down. For those of you with the correct answer, you will pass the phase and can join in with the rest of us, but you will be out of true contention for further rounds. Once we finish the slides, we’ll see where we are and move onto other problems if needed. And, for the record, you don’t want to win this competition. So, everyone understood?” From my seat closer to the rear of the class, I could quickly see those who were panicking and those who seemed to take the work on with pride and joy. To my astonishment, Bill was one of them. Still, even with all the varied expressions, we all nodded our heads. “Alright right then,” Mr. Bellbody said with a satisfied tone for once since we had met him. “This is just an example problem. Once I click though, we will begin. So, get ready… markers set… go!” He clicked the slide, and the first problem was revealed. In seemingly milliseconds, the whole class was scrambling to make sense of it. For the next twenty minutes at least, we were subjected to everything from calculus to word problems, to fractions, to geometry, and even some algebra. Of course, as Mr. Bellbody had warned, some of the easier problems had less time. I knew some of the answers, but I just wasn’t quick enough to make it in time to show my answer to be counted as correct. To make matters worse, after each round, Mr. Bellbody would yell out who was successful and could stop… and who wasn’t. One by one, our group began to drop off, achieving their success. Bill was called early, but he actually seemed to enjoy the class and continued on. I, however, wasn’t one of the ones called and had to keep enduring the problems. I mean, I really tried to keep up, but the timer ticked away in the upper corner, and I continually realized I had made a small error in my math. I wasn’t an idiot, but timed situations just shut my mind down in a way I could never really explain. If I was given another minute, or maybe the clock not being there, I could have been successful and gone out, but by the end, I still hadn’t made it. My only consolation though was that about half the class still wasn’t successful either. “Pitiful… just pitiful,” Mr. Bellbody groaned. I wanted to smack him in the face right then, but I just clenched my fists in anger instead. “Okay… for those of you still not getting this whole thing, come to the front of the classroom. First round, we’ll keep the whiteboards.” We ‘failures’ hesitated at first. “Now!” Now jumping up and panicking that we were just making him angrier, the rest of us quickly ran to the front as fast as we could. Fortunately, the next round was considerably easier. Another fifteen minutes in and I finally achieved my success. It didn’t help my ego that it was something that I had learned at least seven years ago, but my success still radiated through my body. As I made my way back to my seat, Mark, Mike, and Eddy looked at me with a terrible expression of both sympathy and wonder at how I even graduated high school… or at least that’s what I guessed. They didn’t say anything, and I think that just made the matter worse, so just wanting it over now, I quickly walked back to my desk… my heart filled with shame. “Don’t worry about it, man,” Bill whispered to me. He patted me on my slackened and resigned arms I had slumped over my desk when I had sat down at first. “This whole thing is shit. Remember… it’s all about finding everyone’s weaknesses. Just wait until you get a load of my stick figures this afternoon.” I smiled at his attempt to make me feel better. I still felt like a dunce, but it was a small gesture that I appreciated. Looking up though, I knew the gesture would need to be repeated for another member of our group. Luke was tall, blonde, athletic, and excelled in fitness and even parts of the science class yesterday. Unfortunately, it seemed that math was definitely not his strong suit. Question after question, Luke remained. He clearly knew the answers for most of them, but like me, his timing just wasn’t able to cope with Mr. Bellbody shouting out the questions. Soon, it was just him, Ted, and one other student. Unlike our group, who gave thumbs up and tiny air fists or support to Luke, Nelson and Dilbert seemed to be having a great time at Ted’s expense. He was the muscle and not the brains, and unfortunately for him, it was showing today. By now, Mr. Bellbody just seemed disgusted though, and his tone was only becoming nastier. “Okay, you three… I can’t say I’m surprised, but let’s just see who get’s the dunce cap today, huh?” Each, unlike their usual selves, trembled in fear. Mr. Bellbody then started the rapid-fire test for each. Like a spelling bee, if one person was wrong, another could steal the question and answer it themselves. Unlike other rounds though, one success didn’t mean any of them could sit down. Fortunately, though, about five minutes later, Luke was able to sit down. I wanted to see if he was okay, but after he snapped at both Tommy and August, even after the later tried to mock Mr. Bellbody, I decided to let him cool off a bit first. Now, looking back up, Ted was slightly higher in his successes than the other guy. Carl, as I later found out, didn’t seem to do well under pressure. Mr. Bellbody seemed to notice, and like a predator swooping in on the weaker prey, he did the same. “Gosh, Carl. It’s a wonder how you made it here. Let’s try a bit of simple math, huh?” Carl nodded, but it was too late for him. He answered the first couple, but after one slip-up, he fell apart completely. “Five plus two? Five plus three! Five plus four! Anything? Come on. Even my nephew can get this shit!” Carl stumbled around with his answers. He didn’t seem challenged with math or anything, nearly making it on several of the calculus questions earlier, but with Mr. Bellbody yelling in his face, Carl collapsed entirely. It didn’t take long for Mr. Bellbody to stop. “Good grief! Seems like we have our candidate everyone.” Distressingly, along with that disgust though, he also seemed to relish in Carl’s failure. “So, for the dunce’s punishment for being last…” From Carl’s expression, I wouldn’t be surprised if a little part of him died inside. “It will just be determined later!” I could see Nelson, Dilbert, and the rest of their group groan and seem disappointed that they weren’t going to see Carl get punished today. ‘Assholes…’ “Instead,” Mr. Bellbody continued, “I want you all to come to lunch today and see what happens then.” Nelson, Dilbert, and their group once again seemed disgustingly happy. Mr. Bellbody seemed so as well and then turned back to Carl. “See me after class…” Nelson, Dilbert, and their group made a big deal out of Carl staying after class, but Mr. Bellbody quickly silenced them and then handed out worksheets that we had to complete before our next class. We could use the remaining class time, but considering there were over 200 questions, including word problems, calculus, algebra, geometry, and fractions, I doubted anyone would finish it before then. Soon, the class was over, and we filed out to our next class, etiquette. Stepping inside, the contrast of this class versus Dr. Pismons class from yesterday was striking. Every book, paper, and picture in this class were all perfectly aligned and in its proper place. I’m pretty sure that even the labels on everything and the markers stacked neatly to one side of the class were all perfectly aligned at 90-degree angles perpendicular to whatever surface they were next to. At first, I thought we were alone, but Mrs. Pettigrew soon emerged from the corner of the room where she had been sitting and reading a book. The title, Encyclopedia of Etiquette: What to Write, What to Do, What To Wear, What to Say: A Book of Manners for Everyday Use, stood out boldly. That and the dozens of other etiquette books here weren’t a great sign for what was in our futures here. “Attention class,” she said gracefully, her stiff upper collar and brooch there barely moving at all. To be honest, she looked like someone out of a Charles Dickens novel, but she moved with such fluidity and yet a stiffness in each of her gestures. If she had memorized every etiquette book in the class, I wouldn’t have been surprised. Still, her voice didn’t carry far, so most of the class, not paying attention to her, didn’t register her presence. I did and I quickly jabbed Eddy, Mark, and Luke who had all been joking. I didn’t want to be the guy to interrupt their fun, but I also didn’t want them getting into trouble. Mark even looked at me with an annoyed expression at first, but fortunately, it was soon replaced by appreciation when I gestured to the waiting Mrs. Pettigrew in the front of the class. After another moment, she smacked her hands together. More students stopped and sat, but a few were still oblivious. She smacked her hands together twice. All but two students stopped what they were doing. By now, their ignorance of her attempts to get everyone’s attention just seemed like willful defiance. I think Mrs. Pettigrew thought the same, so, while still posed and dignified, she marched right over to the two and grabbed them by their collars. Her impressive form towered over the both of them, and she piercingly glared into their eyes. “I’m very disappointed in you two.” They tried to make excuses, but Mrs. Pettigrew just ignored them and hauled them off to the far corner of the room. It was there I just noticed a sign stating in cursive letters, ‘Naughty Corner.’ Pushing them both into the area, she stared back at both with her hands on her hips. “Now, you will stand here and not move an inch until I tell you to. Understood?” One of the guys stayed silent, but the other went back to his excuses. “But we were just…” Mrs. Pettigrew smacked her hands together again, and like a whip stinging his lips closed, the guy was quickly muted into submission. “Silence!” she hissed. The two had clearly pushed her patience too far. “You will both not speak for the rest of class unless I give you express permission. Nod if you understand.” Both nodded quickly. “Good. Now,” she started spinning her finger around pointing down to the ground. “Turn around and place your noses against the wall. Do this until I tell you to and maybe… just maybe, I’ll let you rejoin us later.” Neither made a sound and Mrs. Pettigrew only grinned, smoothed back the few strands of her hair that had come loose during her shouting, and then walked back to the front of the class. Like Mr. Bellbody, she then wrote her name on the board. With her dry erase marker, her name came across smoothly and in thick cursive letters. It was actually a bit impressive, and turning around, I could almost see a speck of pride when she was finished. “Now, I am Mrs. Pettigrew, your etiquette teacher.” She then pointed to the books on her shelves. “These are what I’ll be teaching you this year. In the future, many of you will likely have me for other subjects, such as history or literature, but for now, etiquette is our way.” She turned back and wrote a single line under her name before turning back to us. “The true meaning of etiquette is always to show respect and kindness to everyone around you… this is what I hope to teach you here first. It is the very foundational block of why you are here.” She then began to pace between our rows of desks. “Humanity has always been plagued by a lack of manners and an undignified hatred towards each other. Etiquette provides a balance between those forces… a wall against the evils of society in our own ways by showing a respect towards those around you.” She quickly pointed to the two guys still standing in the back corner. “Here, I will not tolerate rudeness or students who either don’t listen or practice willful disobedience. As I’m sure you all can tell by now, I do not abide by three chances. I do not yell, but I will clap my hands. Be sure you fall silent and pay attention to me by the second. Be warned though, I am not above punishing the whole class at once if the whole class is disobedient.” Everyone seemed rigid and I even saw a few correct their posture as she walked by, or at least almost everyone seemed to add an extra ounce of respect as she walked by. During her whole lecture, Dilbert had been turning around to joke with Nelson, Ted, and the rest of their group nearby. Unlike Dilbert though, both Ted, and Nelson in particular were adept at hiding or stifling their laughter. Even when I was first alerted to what they were doing, briefly distracting me from Mrs. Pettigrew’s lecture, Ted and Nelson covered up their faces. It made them seemed distressed, but not disrespectful. Dilbert, too busy on the power he was likely feeling, just remained amused and loud. “And just what do you think you’re doing?” About halfway through the lesson of providing good manners to others, Mrs. Pettigrew had snuck up behind Dilbert. He had been making a joke too loudly and had become completely distracted away from her. So, when she confronted him, his eyes grew wide, and he tried to stumble out an excuse. “Oh! I was just… uh,” he started to scratch his head, clearly making an excuse up on the spot. “I was just getting clarification on something you said. And I needed help… and I…” “Enough.” Mrs. Pettigrew didn’t raise her voice, but her cold and calculating stare, only accented by her wardrobe somehow, burned into Dilbert and he shrank away. “I can tolerate jokesters, but definitely not liars.” Her bony but well-manicured finger pointed to the back corner. “Corner. Now.” Dilbert, ever the slimy and conniving individual seemed to try to save his own hide one last time, but Mrs. Pettigrew’s stare only bored into him further. For once, Dilbert no longer had something to say. He only trudged off to the rear with the other two students while Mrs. Pettigrew followed him in earnest. Once he got there, she stopped him and removed a single wide book from her shelf and presented it to the class. “You all will be doing this lesson eventually. Here, I do not punish as a sadist would. Punishment is to either learn a lesson to never do something again,” she pointed to the two students, “or to learn not to lie and to learn something for the future.” She pointed to Dilbert afterward and then slowly and carefully placed the book on his head. For several of us, it was just deserts. Nelson would have been better, but looking over in the corner of the room, a nervous Carl sat alone and nearly traumatized after whatever Mr. Bellbody had told him earlier. Nelson and Dilbert had made fun of him at the very least last class, so seeing Dilbert get punished now, it was hard not to join in. Unfortunately, while Dilbert’s attention was mostly focused on the book being balanced on his head, I lost my nerve a bit and snorted in trying to hide my laughter. Dilbert shot would have shot daggers from his eyes in my direction as he could, and I knew I had messed up, but his sudden move also caused the book to wobble as well. “Dilbert! Stay still!” Mrs. Pettigrew chastised the slinking bully. A fresh chorus of giggles erupted around me, but still, I could see that Dilbert had unfortunately fixated on me now. Worse, once the class ended, Dilbert bumped into me on the way out. He had held the book on his head for nearly 10 minutes, which was impressive, but his rage had only built up during that time. “You better watch your back, John.” I was first surprised he knew my name, but I remembered that it had been used frequently for the past two days whenever roll was called, or I had raised my hand. “You screwed up and you might be safe now, but I’m a patient man… I’ll be watching and waiting you now.” With that, he slithered away, and I couldn’t help but feel gross that he had touched me or even spoke to me. Additionally, I felt a tiny pit of dread bubble within my stomach. Dilbert alone wasn’t a direct threat to me, but Dilbert also had people like Nelson and Ted on his side. Still, apparently the rumors had swirled about Carl’s confrontation with Mr. Bellbody at lunch. Most thought that he was going to be publicly reprimanded and nothing else, but a few of us had seen Mr. Bellbody’s grin in class and worried for Carl’s sake of his fate next. So, as usual by now, we all filed into the dining hall. Each of the teachers sat as well and we all ate our food quickly. Carl was from another dorm hall and was sitting at another table as a result. I could tell that several others were given him a fair distance, particularly after Nelson and his whole group started mocking and picking on him. Like always, it wasn’t anything to be punished for themselves, but I could see it was starting to get to Carl as he ate his sandwich. For our table, it was about the polar opposite. Bruce, Eddy, Giovani, and Mike had now all firmly joined our group. We hadn’t told them about Luke’s continued thoughts of escape, but they fleshed our group out nicely otherwise. In contrast to Carl, despite our differences and flaws that I knew could potentially hurt us all one day, it was better to be with a group here than be by yourself. Our table was full of laughter and the shared bond of our annoyances and fears over the teachers. Tommy kept us centered, but Mark kept our spirits up. His impression of Mr. Fitzpatrick was uncanny, and despite our fitness teacher scaring us still, he didn’t seem as scary now. Finally, Director Breckenridge stood. “Attention students.” Everyone stopped eating and turned to face him. “No doubt by now, many of you know that this morning, Carl Underwood failed to pass his mathematics test. Mr. Bellbody and I have discussed this matter, and due to the extreme failure that he exhibited, we have given Carl an option in which to move forward.” Several students began to speculate over what his options were. “As will no doubt happen to many of you, we can give you a punishment of our design for more severe cases, or you may opt for option B.” The gasps and murmurs multiplied by at least 10. “Yes, yes. We teachers reserve no judgement…” I could see Mr. Fitzpatrick scoff at that notion. From what I had seen yesterday, I very much guess that he would have judged anyone taking that option. “But perhaps for some of you, now or in the future, option B may be preferable to the alternative. Today, however, Carl has elected to endure his punishment instead. Director Breckenridge scanned the crowd and quickly focused on the lone figure eating by himself and gestured to a simple table-like structure in front of him. “Carl…” Carl then slowly stood and walked over to where he was instructed. At the same time, a grinning Mr. Bellbody also came down. As soon as the two met, he made a few gestures to Carl and to the table. Grimacing and even shaking, to our surprise, Carl turned around to the table and dropped his pants before bending over onto the seemingly hard surface. ‘Oh crap.’ It was obvious to anyone who had ever heard rumors about this place, but unlike with Mr. Fitzpatrick yesterday, this spanking was public and likely to be bare bottomed. Then, like some scared ceremony around here, Director Breckenridge joined the two and handed a single old wood paddle to Mr. Bellbody before turning back to us. “The punishment is as follows. Carl Underwood will be spanked and must utter each number of the spank out loud until they get to 15. If they mess up with the count, the count will reset to zero. This will go on until the number 15 is reached or the total number of spankings, kept track of by me, reaches 100.” Director Breckenridge stepped back and gestured for Mr. Bellbody to move into place. Carl, partially laying on the table, could just be heard whimpering. I felt bad for him, but I was just glad it wasn’t me… though I also felt like a dick for thinking so. “Okay, Mr. Bellbody. Begin.” With a simple sadistic grin plaster all over his face, Mr. Bellbody thundered down the paddle right into Carl’s exposed flesh of his backside. The smack rang throughout the dining hall. Several students flinched. Some snickered, but most it seemed, could only imagine themselves in his place. While Carl couldn’t master basic addition under pressure this morning, it still was something simple that anyone could be prone to on a bad day or if a weakness of theirs was exploited. “Ten!” Carl wailed out. I could already tell the spankings were getting to him. “El… ow, eleven. Ah!” Carl’s form quivered and he was almost there, but another spanking clearly jostled his mind more than his rear. “Eleve… no, wait!” But it was too late. Director Breckenridge sighed while Mr. Bellbody only smiled. The disgruntled teacher finally seemed to have found something he enjoyed about this new world as opposed to the old one. It made me sick, but the Director just noted simply. “Again…” So, as had been promised, the count started over. This time, Carl was being reduced to a sniveling and weak form of his former self. It was hard to watch by the sixth time he had started over, and even with the most stringent of counts, he was well past 40 spanks by then. Fortunately, by the eighth attempt, Carl made it. “Fifteen!” Several of us exhaled in relief for poor Carl’s sake if nothing else. I could already see his inflamed rear end and most agreed that he had gotten up to at least 73 spanks. Carl was a mess, and Head Nurse Cora and another attendant helped him away and out of view. I expected some kind of warning speech, but like it was just another routine around here, Mr. Bellbody and Director Breckenridge soon took their seats once more. Finishing up our food now, the brutality and longevity of the punishment took us all by surprise and for the rest of the time, we ate in silence. Still, the next class time approached, and despite only saying a few words, our group made their way over to the household class. Most, at least before now, derided the class as beneath them, not needed, and very similar to the routine class. Seeing some of the dorm rooms however, I wasn’t sure if I believed that or not. We filed into the class, and like Mrs. Pettigrew’s classroom, this new classroom was almost immaculately clean. Posters hung on the walls and described the steps involved in such tasks as dusting, washing dishes, and pruning weeds or dead flowers. Before we entered though, a tall, imposing, and yet warm figure blocked our way further into the class. “Wait just one moment!” We all froze and like a traffic cop, this new teacher guided us in slowly to our right. “That’s right. Keep going until the end. Should be enough room for one student in front and one in back. There you go. You’ve got it.” Her voice had an odd sort of sing-song quality to it that seemed very familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. Being one of the first in, I looked around and while Eddy, Bruce, and Bill boxed me in to my left, front, and right, respectively, I still got a good view of the classroom. Everything seemed to have its place, and a few of the tasks on the walls actually seemed interesting to me, but curiously, out of everything I saw, only type of item was dirty; the desks. Each was the typical laminated wood with metal legs on each side and a single cubby underneath the main surface. It looked like any other desk I had sat at since I was five in kindergarten, but the surface was instead absolutely filthy. A thick almost crawling mass lay on top of the surface. In some places it almost seemed slimy and if it was about to ooze any seconds, while others seemed more fuzzy or dusty. I wasn’t the only one who noticed either. “Shit. What the hell is that?” August exclaimed, looking reviled at the desk closest to him. “It looks like something that once came out of my engine exhaust after someone stuffed some dead leaves up it.” “I don’t know, but you don’t think…” Mark gulped and almost seemed afraid of the desks. “You don’t think we’ll have to clean it, right?” I sighed and nodded. “It is a household class after all. I think we might have to. Why else would we be just standing right now?” Everyone realized that and knew the truth. Unfortunately, we would actually have to touch the substance before us. Finally, everyone was inside, and the teacher closed the door. “Welcome everyone to the household class!” she said cheerily. As opposed to the others I had met so far, she seemed an oddity, more comparable to Ms. Diaz than the vast majority of others here. “My name is Ms. Sandra. It could be ‘Miss,’ but I prefer ‘Ms.,’ pronounced ‘mizz,’ in this type of setting.” She then clapped her hands together and suddenly became even more excitable, her necklace, hair, and light blue dress bouncing slightly as she did. “Now, today we’ll be gin with the most basics of cleaning.” She then stepped out of the way and gestured to the desks. “Each of these have been coated with various substances and problems one might encounter in the household. Don’t worry, Mrs. Chen have already approved all of them as safe to your lungs at least.” I wasn’t too fond that she had said ‘at least.’ “So, your first task for me is simple. Don a pair of rubber gloves and go to cleaning,” she explained, gesturing to a small bin of yellow rubber gloves behind her. “You will have access to a variety of household items around the classroom. Pick which one, or ones, you want to use and start cleaning. Everyone will get an initial time to grab one item to clean with and then put on their gloves. Do not start cleaning or you will immediately be disqualified and lose. If we have too many that lose, I have another task to determine the last place though.” She smirked and I quickly dreaded another punishment in this institute. “And… go!” We all quickly scrambled to grab our gloves, one cleaning item, and one of the desks. Our group chose the far end of the class around the middle. Not too close to the teacher to be targeted, but also not too far away to be kept an eye on for signs of trouble. “Excellent!” Ms. Sandra quickly inspected everyone to ensure they had a desk, their gloves on, one cleaning implement and hadn’t yet touched the desk. For me, I had chosen a sponge and made sure to almost recoil from the desk to ensure there would be no doubt I hadn’t touched it yet. Looking over at Mark, I wouldn’t have been surprised if his recoil was from disgust more than from strategy. “Okay, and… go!” In a mad dash, I went right for the desk. I had already wetted my sponge, and the desk soon began to return to its normal hue. Turning black however, I had to run over and wash off my sponge. We were being timed and no one wanted to lose. “Keep up the good work everyone!” Ms. Sandra encouraged, walking around between the desks. For once today, I felt supported rather than ridiculed or looked down on. She seemed to want us to learn rather than just going through the motions. Thinking ahead, I wondered what she taught during third year. Like Ms. Diaz, I wanted her class, even if it wasn’t something I might normally have been interested in. “And… time!” I had made it back to the sink three times and my desk still showed some signs of the grime, but looking around, I could clearly spot that I wasn’t the worst. It was a relief and Ms. Sandra even smiled as she passed by, but there had to be a loser, and unfortunately, it seemed clear who it was. Ms. Sandra returned to the front, grabbed something from her desk and then hid it behind her. “Well, well, well… it seems I have a number of eager cleaners before me. I think you all are going to do very well in my class, but unfortunately, there is a last place student.” She started scanning the class, and her eyes first landed on a student from another group. “I first thought of you, Hunter.” He quickly seemed like he just had a heart attack as he froze in place. His desk still had several dark stains over it and one corner was still entirely coated with a thick layer of dust. “That being said, I saw another that was worse.” Her eyes scanned the room, and while she seemed to be looking at Bill, who I swear almost fainted, her gaze instead clearly fixated on Mark. “I’m sorry, Mark, but your desk is both still filthy and your clothes…” The whole class instantly turned their attention to Mark. The previous standard uniform of the white shirt, gray shorts, and the dark blue blazer, were now all spattered with tiny black dots that grew slightly larger towards his center. As for his desk… it seemed more smeared than cleaned at all. It wasn’t good. Mark looked petrified and I think Ms. Sandra could tell. “Don’t worry, Mark. What happened to Carl… well, I don’t do that in my classroom. We have another tradition here. One that I think will suit you today. Come on up here.” Mark walked slowly to the front and Ms. Sandra quickly produced two objects from behind her back. The first was a white apron bordered in black and pink, and the second was a maid’s headpiece or tiara. “You can’t be serious…” Mark looked like he wanted to throw up. Ms. Sandra smiled and leaned in to put the apron on him first. “Nope. Just a tiny token for the one who loses my games. No permanent record, no corporal punishment. Just a little humiliation for one class. That’s all.” For Mark, that seemed to be a lot already, but for me at least, I felt he should be counting his lucky stars. Of course, the stifled laughter didn’t help matters, even when it quieted further when Ms. Sandra shot them a nasty look. After that, we were given an overview of the course, highlighting such tasks as baking, cleaning, gardening, and other household duties, but unlike other classes though, she didn’t give what she would be offering third year. It felt very strange, but she soon had us learning to mend clothing and take care of stains as well. For Mark, it offered some relief, even if his apron and maid’s tiara didn’t help. Still, by the end of class, he gave them back, and we moved to the large auditorium for our final class, creativity. As announced at the end yesterday, today would be focusing on art. It was one of my favorite subjects, and I practically skipped to my seat. Already, I could feel my happy glow begin to grow as I spotted the paper and pencils tucked into the side of our chairs and attached desks. I preferred a larger space to work with, but given the chance to do art here, I just smiled freely. “Welcome back, class,” Ms. Diaz nearly sang out as she entered in. Being here yesterday, I was relieved that it wasn’t yet another teacher that we had to memorize their name with. Today, she was dressed in a shirt that seemed like it had just come from a twister of splatter painters. I wondered if every group experienced the same lesson throughout the day, but my attention shot back to Ms. Diaz before I could ponder it any further. “Today, we will just be using the materials provided to express yourself freely.” She then clicked a button, and several images were shown on the monitors around us. Like almost a cliché, there was a simple bowl of fruit, a still random object in the form of an older camera, and a posed figure. “Choose one of these or show me what your imagination can come up with. I will also accept a combination of the two, but being at the end of your second day, I want you all to feel free in here.” Needing no further prompting, I took her words to heart. I had never felt freer as I chose the statuesque figure to start drawing. While the pose first struck me as joyful, giddy, and playful even, I realized the pose could also be worked into one of loss if I changed the angle and shadows just a little bit. Soon, a gaunt figure, stretching out in desperation and anguish took shape on my paper. True to his word, Bill barely could master inking out a pear from the bowl of fruit, but I appreciated his effort at least. A few students simple drew what they saw in five minutes and placed their pencils down. As Ms. Diaz walked around, I could see the tiniest hint of disappointment in her face. “Oh wow, John,” she remarked as she saw my drawing. “Keep up the good work. I really love your expression on the figure. I think it adds a lot to the background of your figure. Sad, lonely, but maybe defiant. Very unique.” I smiled back at her and she quickly moved on. Having 90 students seemed to be a challenge, and I remembered her promise that classes would become more intimate later. Better lessons would come, but for now, I was just satisfied with her compliment and that there was a class I could do well in without trying too hard in either. Pretty soon, I lost track of time but as always, the class had to end. Based on what Ms. Diaz had said, I thought that we would all just leave, and that the day’s exercise was just a bit of fun. Instead, she stood at the head of the class and made an announcement first. “I want to thank you all for a wonderful day, and that when you leave, you do so one at a time. For some of you, I have seen real talent, and I want to acknowledge it.” She then reached beside her a held a single piece of paper in the air. Several murmurs went up and I leaned in to see if I could see it better. “This is a progress sheet. Many of you will get one, but it is a discretionary sheet to be filled out by us teachers alone. I have checked and none of you have received one yet. After today, some of you will have one with a sticker. If you get it, never let it go, but consider using it when you are in a tight spot.” Her words were mysterious, but sure enough, as we all filed out with our drawings tucked beneath our arms, I saw a few get handed the sheet in question. Finally, when it was my turn to leave, she handed me a sheet as well. “Use it well, but good work today, John.” “T… thank you.” I wasn’t really sure what to make of the sheet, but as I left her classroom and headed back to Miller Hall to dump my belongings and relax a little before dinner, I was most certainly glad I had a sheet with a sticker rather than go without one. Based on today, the number of tight spots only seemed to be growing, and if Carl, Dilbert, or Mark were any examples to go by, avoiding those tight spots seemed almost more important than even acing any of my exams. For the moment though, I just breathed a sigh of relief that yet another day was done. Tomorrow would be the last day in the first cycle, and I just hoped it would end as quickly as today had. Now, only time would tell… 10 1
Operational Systems Posted October 1, 2024 Posted October 1, 2024 One thing barely explored is the impact of this forced conscription on the dating regime. All men between 17, 18 and 20 or 21 just leave the dating market, and only a fraction survive to adulthood with their adulthood intact. I suppose we'll see the excess female population get to play its part at some point. Mr. Bellbody's frustration with the fact that they don't get a full four years of education is understandable. In our world outside of some elite institutions, most colleges don't really introduce the real stuff until years three or four. But I suppose in this world there isn't an opportunity for brighter students to shine through and get started at the peak of their ability in a dedicated role. His job isn't to find the diamonds, or to find anyone with potential and nurture it, (Carl has some talent, but it is wasted here) but to filter out all the has-beens. You can feel how empty and twisted he's become as a teacher. Once again, art, creativity as the mechanism by which the students might save themselves is fascinating. Dostoevsky once said beauty will save the world, and it's as though the system knows that the boys need their art to survive - the question is does it want them to succeed? I suspect they're going to be pushed into increasing infantilization of their art, this dystopian corruption of the prison removing even that last element of voice the prisoners need to liberate their minds from the toils of this world, but it's definitely an interesting theme of this story and an element that elevates this story above some of the prior ones. 1
parkintochter Posted October 2, 2024 Posted October 2, 2024 I am curious for more punishments. I kind of hope for chained belt, so a potty visit requires a teacher/nurse
kerry Posted October 2, 2024 Posted October 2, 2024 On 9/30/2024 at 12:09 AM, LostBBoyBear said: I’m not sure if that will lead to more chapters coming out at a faster pace Honestly, I think you should slow down. You write long chapters, and posting them more than once every day or two makes it very hard to stay caught up. 1
LostBBoyBear Posted October 2, 2024 Author Posted October 2, 2024 1 hour ago, kerry said: Honestly, I think you should slow down. You write long chapters, and posting them more than once every day or two makes it very hard to stay caught up. I've heard that before. I was honestly thinking of slowing down anyways, especially with some of these longer stories, but as everyone can see like with this next chapter, life has forced me a bit into slowing down whether I wanted to or not. Oh well. Still, I think that I'm going to try to post every three days at the very least. More would be great, but as you said, more also means that there is more catching up to do for all of you.
Operational Systems Posted October 2, 2024 Posted October 2, 2024 LostBBoyBear you could post the entire novel and I'd read it in a day. Take the pace necessary to make it good, though I get there's an entire engagement subculture to this process that is part of the cost of reading it.
LostBBoyBear Posted October 3, 2024 Author Posted October 3, 2024 Hey everyone! Well, a big old darn and a mighty ugh to the universe. I got ahead by several chapters this past weekend, but owing to some bad weather, a busy job, and just being an adult… everything got delayed once again. I was desperately trying to get this chapter up last night, but I was massively delayed at work and then when I got home, I think I passed out maybe six times… so yeah. A big darn curse to my luck, but I can only just hope that this week won’t become the norm in my life. Moving on to better and brighter topics though, I just want to take a moment to thank you all for your wonderful comments and your support of this story. I’m finding my non-diaper dimension stories don’t always get as much love on the whole, but I’m glad to say that a few of you seem to be liking this story at least. Also, for those of you wondering when more content befitting this site will show up, I just ask for your patience. Some will start to show and get ready for that. Once it does a little, the flood will soon come after. Just as a reminder, a new poll is up for you all to let me know which story you all would like to read next. Story options and the link can be found back in the beginning of chapter 2. As I mentioned before though, if you feel more comfortable leaving a comment here or as a private message to me, I will count these as well. Additionally, like before, this poll will be shut down right before I post my final chapter on here. Further announcements will be made regarding this when the time gets closer. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 7: Rounding Out the First At last, the final day was here. I couldn’t believe that my luck had held out for this long. I knew full-well that I still had hundreds of these cycles to go, but finishing the first after today felt like such a monumental task to overcome. I had always learned when one was trying to just survive something, you took each and broke them up to feel a sense of accomplishment once you had reached them. Firsts and finals were always huge milestones for me to hit. For example, I had already passed the bus ride, my first day here, my first night here, my first day of classes, and now, I would finish my first cycle here. Other such milestones would include the first month, the first semester, the first finals, and the first year. After that, the milestones would slow down but would then pick back up at the conclusion of all this. It all still felt like a long shot, but accomplishing the first batch of the immediate milestones, I felt proud, confident, and maybe even admittedly cocky. Our group decided to celebrate this milestone by going out tonight. We could only stay in the town of Smeckton for two hours at most, keeping in mind our need to go to dinner, travel to and from town, and still make it back by 10 tonight. It seemed something so minor to celebrate on the whole, but it was something to be happy about, and that wasn’t nothing around here. So, thinking pleasantly about my completion, I guess I wasn’t really paying attention to the things I normally paid attention to, like where I was going, or if my group was focused on something other than just making it to our first class, medicine, on time today. In seconds, I tripped on my shoelace, pulled it untied, and then noticed and stopped to tie it. I didn’t think anything of it, being only a few second task, but with some of the more winding paths, when I looked up again, my group was gone. I didn’t panic and even got within eyeshot of the back of their heads again as I raced ahead, but it turns out, that’s all the opportunity one other group needed who had been watching us… more specifically, watching me. I didn’t realize it, but another group had been following ours on the way to class and looking for a moment to pounce. As soon as I was alone and vulnerable, they had sprung right on top of me. “Let me g…!” But that’s all I managed to make out. One giant lumbering person held me aloft and covered up my mouth at the same time, while another one of my assaulters held my feet. I was thrashing so hard against my captors that I didn’t even take a second to see who they were. Despite my valiant efforts though, they were still all in vain. Soon, I was set down and shoved again a wall. I barreled over with the wind that had been knocked out of me. Clutching my chest, I managed to look up. To my annoyance and unsurprise, it was Nelson, Dilbert, and Ted. Their usual posse seemed conspicuously absent in all this. “Shit. What the hell do you all want?” I knew it, but I wanted to know specifics. If I was lucky, I could report them in full and get them thrown out. I had never really hated anyone truly in my life, but their group was topping my list rapidly. Dilbert stepped forward. “Revenge.” His slinky and slimy ways almost made him come across like a cartoon villain. I suspected that instead of friends growing up, he sought solace in the Saturday morning cartoon villains. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. All it got me was a smack across the face by Nelson. “Show some respect to your betters!” I couldn’t believe my luck that I had come into this group’s crosshairs. It was revenge from yesterday when I had snickered at Dilbert when he got in trouble and then had to balance books on his head. It was pointless to argue with them, so I just stood up and tried to defy them. “Screw you.” Dilbert narrowed his eyes and nodded his head at Ted. For a brief moment, I thought I saw some regret in Ted’s eyes, but he was the muscle of the group, not the thinker or the leader. He just did as he was told. So, in moments, Ted grabbed a hold of me and pulled me to the side and up against something metal low to the ground. I tried to fight him, but he was just too big and muscle-laden for me to make a bit of difference. I wasn’t weak, but Ted… I wouldn’t have been surprised if once played as a linebacker for his high school football team. “What they hell are you doing?” I spat at them as I felt Dilbert and Nelson doing something to my jacket and front. I tried to struggle again as they looped something around my front, but again, against Ted, I was practically useless in trying to fight them. Finally, all three let me go and backed up. Ted seemed pained, but Nelson and Dilbert were smiling wickedly down at me. “There. That should do it,” Dilbert said with a sneer. “I don’t admire you much, Dil, but this?” For once, Nelson actually seemed impressed with someone other than himself. “Perfection for our purposes. See ya’ loser!” Ted and Nelson then walked away, but Dilbert leaned down once more. “You managed to squirm your way out of this one, just remember this next time you try to screw with one of us.” He then limply smacked me in the face, and even bound against the metallic object at my back, I nearly was able to headbutt him right in the nose. Dilbert seemed annoyed but looking behind me, he seemed panicked and then ran away. As he disappeared, I hoped that he had run off because he saw a teacher, but I soon heard the chimes of the main belltower on top of the administration building. I had heard it faintly in class, and found the chimes pleasant, but another realization struck me as well… I was now late to class. Panicking over what would happen to me, I began to struggle against the ties. I managed to discover that I was attached to a bike rack just outside the rear of one of the dorm buildings, but because it was class, no one was anywhere close to me, so I decided to start yelling for help. “Help! Help! Someone! Anyone! I’m stuck!” And that’s how I was trapped there for the next roughly ten minutes. I alternated between yelling and then pulling as hard as I could against my bonds. I might have been successful, but the strap around my waist ensured that every time I pulled on the one laced through my coat and around my arms, the one around my waist would tighten. “Please help! Anybody!” I felt so helpless, and I could feel the panic rise in me with what Mrs. Chen, the medicine teacher, would do to me when or even if I would rejoin her class. Almost guaranteed, I knew I would be punished today. Just as I gave up to at least give myself a rest for just a moment, I heard a few snaps of twigs and leaves to my rear. My imagination ran wild. ‘Was it someone to help me? Hurt me? An admin who would help but then really just trick me into option B around here?’ I wasn’t sure, but I also felt certain that I didn’t want to take the risk and miss him. “Is someone there? Anyone? Please! I need help!” The snapping only intensified until I heard a big shuffle of branches behind me. “Oh my! Just one second!” I heard some more pacing and soon was confronted by a familiar face. “Molly!” Her chosen pink scrub today contrasted nicely with her blonde hair. “Holy crap am I glad to see you!” She smiled and quickly bent down to help. “Remember to watch your language, but I just heard someone yelling after I checked on one of the students. Third day in and already sick. Poor dear, but good for you I guess being trapped here and all. No one else should even be in this part of campus at this time.” She gratefully produced a pair of bandage scissors from her scrubs and began cutting away at my straps. Moments later, I was free. “Thank you! Thank you, Molly!” I rubbed my wrists where the straps had cut into me deeply and Molly looked at them in concern, but then checked her watch. “Oh crud!” She quickly helped me up and handed me my backpack that I think Ted had just managed to bring along with him. He still was the one to restrain me, but even a little gesture like that, instead of hiding it, made me wonder. “John! You need to class on the double! You’re already so late!” My mind flashed and I knew she was telling the truth. Before I left though, I had one more desperate card I had to see if I could play. “Wait! Could you maybe give me a note or something?” Molly sighed and looked at me mournfully. I instantly knew it wasn’t good news. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I absolutely would if I could but I’m just a nurse around here. You would have to come to the clinic and get a note then, but I know you’re going to Mrs. Chen. Sometimes, and as odd as it may sound, she might even reject that type of excuse. So, no, I can’t. I’m so sorry, John.” I could see in her face that she wasn’t lying, and that was a nice feeling, but still, I knew I was screwed as she gave me a quick hug and I then bolted across campus. Finally, I made it to the relatively small brick building. A product of the 70s, it seemed mostly unadorned and felt like it could use an update, but it was where all medical services were, including Mrs. Chen’s classroom. Swallowing the massive lump in my throat that had formed on my way over, I pushed open the door and walked in. “… and by next April, I expect you all to know every bone in the human bo…” Mrs. Chen’s eyes, and subsequently every other student stared right back at me. I never felt smaller. “Mr. Clark… late!” She practically hissed at me, and several students, mostly made up of Nelson’s group, reacted like they were in middle school hearing a launched insult about someone’s mom with a bunch of ‘oohs.’ It took everything within me not to go over and throttle them on the spot. “This is a serious infraction,” she warned, “and on your first day even!” If the ground beneath me swallowed me up whole, I think I would have preferred that to her judgmental looks and the leering ones of the rest of the class. Even my own group looked at me in disbelief. Mrs. Chen then began to violently stride over to me. “Say something for yourself! Immediately!” I looked just behind her and saw Dilbert pass his pointer finger over his exposed throat. I knew right then that if I blabbed about them, I was screwed, and knowing them, they could hurt my group if I ever failed and had to leave. I was in deep trouble with Mrs. Chen but covering up the truth felt like the option with the least bad outcomes. Hurting my friends likely meant they wouldn’t be my friends for long, so I shook my head. “Pity… and you seemed like such a nice student the other day.” She sighed and pointed over to the front of the class. “I suppose even I can be wrong.” Following her long and bony finger over to the front of the class, I stood diligently as she returned there as well. Stalking around me, she then stopped and addressed the class. “Here, we punish you all differently. John here, barring any unforeseen circumstances, will be used as our model today.” I gulped as I realized what that likely meant. No clothing, all eyes on me, and being poked in every crevice, orifice, and flat surface that could be found. In other words, for someone like me who even hesitated to take their shirt off at the pool for whatever reason, it meant humiliation galore. Mrs. Chen then shot her beady eyes over to me and placed her hands on her hips. “Well? Any reprieves or outs I should know about?” I wondered what she was talking about, and I tried to rack my brain for any sign of hope to get me out of this mess. Just as I was about to give up and start stripping my clothes on the spot, I remembered one thing. To the confusion of everyone, including Mrs. Chen initially, I then snatched my backpack and rifled through the papers that had already started to accumulate in there. “Aha! Here it is!” Mrs. Chen eyed my hands as they held the single sheet aloft above my head like some prized treasure, and then further when I handed it to her. Her face instantly dropped. “Oh…” “What is it? Come on!” Nelson egged on. “Show us!” With a sigh, Mrs. Chen turned it around to face the classroom. My one sticker from yesterday still lingered alone. “Can anyone tell me what this is?” In truth, I didn’t even know myself at this point. Ms. Diaz had given me the sticker yesterday and had just told me to use it when I was in a ‘tight spot.’ Now felt as good of a time as any, but I still didn’t know why. Based on the lack of hands raised, I wasn’t alone. Mrs. Chen sighed again. “I thought as much with you all…” She seemed to harbor an already buried sense of anger and resentment towards us, so I felt justified in saying that I should rather focus my efforts elsewhere in finding a teacher to be my ally here. “This,” she started to explain, still holding my sheet with the one sticker on it in the air, “is a rewards and punishment sheet. Never lose these once you have acquired one. This side,” she flipped the sheet over to ensure that it was the side with my single sticker, “is for rewards. These are massive once you get them and can be handed out whenever a teacher here so pleases for good effort.” She then flipped the sheet over, and for once, I saw the clear word, ‘Punishment’ written on it. “Conversely, this is for punishments. These, unlike your everyday sort of punishments, like those for Carl, Dilbert, or Mark, in your other classes, are for the most serious offenses. These can negate those on the other side, but if acquired without any on the back, normal punishments will be increased, or something will be taken away or added to your lives.” We all questioned what she meant, but her stare, once instructive and at least neutral, turned icy and sinister. “Trust me when I tell you… the things we add or remove will be things you absolutely will care about. Also, if you reach a certain point with negative in each class, marked by our own unique sticker, you will drop one letter grade. So, either way, watch out.” She then handed me back my sheet and shook her head. “As for you… are you sure you want to eliminate your sticker from yesterday and use it to negate your punishment today?” I thought briefly and for a moment, I then looked around the class. My friends seemed they wanted me to use it, but Nelson, Dilbert, and most of their group seemed horrified that I would. Considering my options and hoping that this morning wouldn’t become a habit, I nodded my head. “Yes. Use it.” Mrs. Chen seemed upset for that choice, but quickly applied another sticker to the front of the already existing one. Like the red signs to show something wasn’t allowed, like smoking, my sticker was now clearly voided as I sat back down. I didn’t have to endure a punishment, but as I sat down and Mrs. Chen resumed the lesson for the day about the human excretory system, I wondered if I had made a mistake. On our way to finance later, I quickly explained what had happened to me this morning when Bill and Tommy pressed into me about it. “Holy crap, man,” Bill said in shock. “Those dill holes… I just… wait until they get my fist in their face!” “No, no,” I said trying to calm my roommate down. “I appreciate your devotion and whatnot, Bill, but if we escalate, they’ll just do the same. I hate doing nothing, but something is telling me that they have something up their sleeves around here. It’s best we wait for them to do something blatantly stupid and get our revenge that way.” “Agreed,” Tommy said, still aghast over what they did to me. It wasn’t the worst by far, especially in an institute like this where Dr. Pismons cart of punishments practically screamed to be stollen and used against another student instead, but me being tied up was still an escalation from taunts to physical actions for them. It wasn’t a good sign going forward. “Well, of course you would say that,” Bill said to Tommy, rolling his eyes a little. “You would run away if a goose got loose and started slowly waddling after you.” “You ladies coming?” Mark asked jokingly. Tommy, Bill, and I just groaned and hurried along so that we wouldn’t be late for our finance class. For me, I knew now that the next time I was late, I wouldn’t get a second chance. So, I felt the need to be extra vigilant in my time management skills. “Sit, sit,” Mr. Hunsinger instructed us all as we walked into his class. His thick glasses seemed eternally poised to slide of his nose and his fingers shuddered about as they continued to arrange something shiny on his desk. Once the last student sat, he continued for only a second longer, looked up at us, and then pushed his glasses back into place. “Excellent, excellent,” he said, rubbing his hands together, nearly knocking over a lamp that had been perched on his desk. “Whoops! Almost gone that time.” A few snickered, but I just stayed quiet. After what had happened with Mrs. Chen, I felt that I needed another teacher on my side at this point. Mr. Hunsinger then began to move through our desks and dropped off little green pouches at each of them. A few students tried to look what was inside. “Not yet!” Mr. Hunsinger cried out, pointing over to the offending student. To be honest, I was surprised it was Nelson or anyone else in his group. “Patience, please…” Once all the desks had a pouch on them, Mr. Hunsinger returned to the front and turned back to us. “Okay. GO ahead and open them now.” Needing no further prompt, we tore into the tiny cloth bags only to look inside and feel confused. “I don’t get it,” one student finally chirped up. “This,” Mr. Hunsinger began to explain, pushing his glasses back up to his face, “is your allowance of sorts.” Most of the students looked at him in confusion. “Simply put, here, I do not hand out corporal punishments. The world outside of these doors won’t do that… at least I hope, but you can expect other consequences.” He then went over to his desk and picked up one final bag and showed us the varying colors of coins inside. “Each coin represents a certain value, like in real life, but more importantly is how you may gain or lose them. Fall asleep in class? Well, in the real world, that wouldn’t be tolerated, and you could lose information that would have led to a successful business venture, investment, or even a way to avoid ruin, but because you were asleep, you missed it. So, here, instead of punishments, I will remove some of your money.” One student quickly raised their hand and Mr. Hunsinger called on them before he moved onto his next subject. “Is there any other way we can lose our coins then?” Mr. Hunsinger enthusiastically nodded. “Of course! In fact, this brings me to my next point.” He flicked a switch, and the projector turned on and showed the class schedule for the year. “With each lesson, we will be using the coins if applicable. For example, in your investments here, you can either gain or lose money. It just all depends on how well you do.” Another student raised their hand and were called on. “But what if we make a bad investment and lose all our money?” Mr. Hunsinger smirked and pointed to the fourth lesson. “Well, that’s why I have ‘Loans’ as one of the lessons. Usually around this point, some of you may have lost all your money. If it gets to that point, you can either ask a friend for help or choose my way. For my way, you can select to drop a letter grade, gain two punishment stickers, or receive another punishment of my choosing on that day. You might be a bit sore or embarrassed after, but you’ll get this starting amount once more.” Of all the news to hear today, I think I was the most worried about that one in particular. It didn’t seem harmful on the outside, but I could already tell that Nelson and his buddies were gearing up for a brutal time in the class. Worse, once we finished our lesson of how banks operated today, I overheard them talk about their years of experience learning under their wealthy parents. Knowing them, if they cornered us one day, it could be a huge problem. It also didn’t help that a student was chewing gum in his class and Mr. Hunsinger already deducted one penny from his pouch. Only having five dollars to start, I wasn’t feeling confident in that class now at all. Still, my mind was at least allowed to rest, if only for a little bit. Lunch was next and was the usual dreary state of affairs. Unlike before, no one was punished, but Carl still sat by himself as a testament to rules being broken in general, an outcast with those his age here, or being the last adult who was personally attached while around here. Looking over, it was clear that Mr. Bellbody was still reveling in the newly found joy of his previous punishment toward one of his students. To my horrible surprise, he seemed like the one I would have to watch out for the most. Though looking next to him at Mr. Fitzpatrick, looking equally as sinister and sadistic today, my list of teachers to try and avoid definitely wasn’t limited to only one. Still, lunch was nice and quiet, but my mind quickly had to refocus on the next class, basics. It was another class I felt for sure could be a trap to lure us into a false sense of security. Walking in, however, Mr. Dumphy sat back in his chair and smiled pleasantly at each of us. Like the routine classroom, his was decorated with a myriad of posters and plaques describing how to do things. While the sleeping and healthy habits ones didn’t seem very interesting, others like the ‘How to Drive’ ones made several of us stop and stare for a moment. A car, seemingly such a simple pleasure and everyday occurrence back home, now felt like a miracle here to even come close to actually utilizing. Remembering to my own brother’s car and his joy at seeing it, I was started to be able to fill in my own pieces of his puzzled past and his elation at seeing the vehicle once more once he had graduated. Mr. Dumphy stood in front of us, and rather than the bumbling nature of Mr. Hunsinger, the hulking and bald mass of Mr. Fitzpatrick, or the reserved and yet sinister nature of Mr. Bellbody, he had a natural and almost everyday man look. His hair was barely styled, and his clothes had seen better days, more from use rather than simply not having the means to replace them. His hands, now clicking on the slide projector, seemed knobbed and worn. Compared to most of the rest of the teachers, I felt I could actually see him outside of this institute living a life beyond academics. “Welcome to the basics class,” he dryly introduced. “Here, as the name suggests, we will be going back to the basics. You may have learned a lot of this in high school, or even earlier, but the government has decided they wish everyone to know basic life skills. While taxes will be in finance, here we have things like planning a healthy diet.” He clicked the slides and showcased a full meal being prepared in the kitchen. “Or the benefits of sleep and how to get a good one.” He clicked again and showed a person sleeping with a clock clearly reading before 1 AM. He clicked again and showed a car in a mechanics shop. “Or even some of the basics regarding car maintenance.” A hand quickly shot up, and Mr. Dumphy called on them. “Mr. Dumphy… will we, uh… I mean, can we… uh, you know… drive the cars?” Despite their hesitation, it was clear they wanted to know the answer and based on every other student’s face and eagerness in listening to his answer, they did as well. Mr. Dumphy smirked. “Well, it’s both a yes and a no.” Most of the class seemed puzzled. “Let me explain…” He clicked the slides once more and showed a schedule for the next year first and then the next three years. “As you can see, you all will only technically have me for your first year here. During that time, we will cover several subjects, including one on cars. While the course then will have us focus mostly on their upkeep, I do reserve one week where we rotate in and out where some of you are mechanics, and others are driving the cars. So, that’s the yes part.” The student who asked the question leaned and clearly wanted to know about the ‘no’ part of the his answer. Mr. Dumphy clicked the slide once more and showed a breakdown of the future classes. “I wouldn’t worry too much about these just yet… being a year away and all, but I also teach general shop for those of you not interested in my other courses like for those of you wishing to be construction workers, electricians, mechanics, and other professions of the like. For these, if you choose them, your class schedule will rotate around to accommodate them.” He then clicked the slide once more and we all quickly glued our eyes to the images before us. “As you can see, these are images from past classes.” Several images of students in the school uniform were performing maintenance on the cars, but also driving them as well. “In the final months you are here, for those with a near guaranteed chance to leave her unaffected, you will be reenrolled in my class, and we will review some of the basics once again as a refresher. Then, during the last week as a reward, you all will maintain and drive your own cars at a local racetrack.” Everyone started to buzz excitedly about the possibilities of the class. Unlike the others, his felt both useful and not like another trap to get us to either fail or fall behind the generations that came before us. Plus, he had been the only teacher that ever talked about the future as if it was something to be celebrated rather than feared. For Mr. Dumphy, it seemed the future only held possibilities of success, rather than a guarantee of failure. Hearing that now, felt more refreshing than I could ever possibly describe. “Yes, yes,” he finally said, settling the class back down once more. “All fun and great, but like all other classes here, there is a negative.” In an instant, the general vibe of the class turned sour and fearful. “It’s okay. Look.” He clicked the slide once more and showed a chart listing the various punishments. “As you can see, I find no pleasure or value in corporal punishment. Here, you screw up, you’ll pay with it with your sweat and hard work. Punishments here include the cleaning out of cars, maintaining the institute’s grounds around the campus, or even joining janitorial staff on nights and weekends until I am satisfied you have learned your lesson.” The class remained silent, less upset over the notion of a punishment, but I think half were dreaming of the day they would drive again, and the other half stayed quiet out of fear of being assigned to the janitorial staff. Nelson and his group looked particularly unhappy about that prospect. Still, Mr. Dumphy continued with the lesson of the day, and we learned about basic maintenance of household electronics. It was short but informative, and before I knew it, I was already headed to Ms. Diaz’s class once more and for the final time of the first cycle. Today was all about theater. “Yes, and welcome back!” Ms. Diaz exclaimed, now wearing a dark and dramatic ensemble of clothing. Additionally, for today, her movements seemed more expressive and fluid as if she was dancing. “Welcome to theater today!” She began to pace around the stage, flinging her arms about as she went. “For those of you worried about a lack of theatrical skill though, don’t worry. The theater is everywhere! And we celebrate it all. That means lighting, sounds, dancing, makeup, costumes! It’s all here!” Okay, so personally, I was never really into theater, but when Ms. Diaz had us split into our groups of 10 to practice our improv skills for the day, I finally felt free in a way that I hadn’t with so many of the other activities here. Even something as weird as fake driving a bus felt nice. There was no pressure or expectations. It was just driving a bus and talking to Bill and then Eddy later. Ms. Diaz then started coming around to inspect the groups. “I know for some of you that this might feel a bit weird, but that’s okay. Harnessing your emotions might not be readily available to all of you, but learning improv is an important skill, even outside this class.” She gave a few tips to one group and then moved. “For example, if one of you is later forced to perform an activity that you don’t want to do, a negative attitude or not playing along could be your worst mistake.” I wondered what she was even talking about, but her saddened looks quickly made me think that it had something to do with one of the punishments here. “Learning improv can give you the skills to act or fake an emotion when called upon to do so. So, learn it, live it, love it. Excellent Peter!” Another student smiled as she passed by yet another group. About an hour later, with the day closing and dinner fast approaching, Ms. Diaz left us with one final note. “As my class is your final of the day, it has been left up to me to remind you to write your letters home before you go to sleep tonight. It may be a bit old fashioned, but it’s tradition here and this will also let your families know which institute you ended up in and you can let them know that you are okay and made it through your first cycle.” I dreaded the task, but as I left her class, despite having a good time during it, I found myself feeling a little lighter once it was over. It was such a simple act of finishing the first cycle in the literal hundreds let to go, but still, it was done. I was still here, and I hadn’t been punished yet. Sure, once could legitimately sat that Nelson, Gilbert, and some of the teachers weren’t great, and I had almost received a humiliating punishment today after being tied to a bike rack, but it hadn’t happened. A near miss was still a miss, and I felt that in a place like this, that small distinction was everything. Again, dinner passed quickly, but today, I think our group just wanted to get out of there as quickly as we could so we could make it into town to celebrate. We didn’t relish the fact that we had to go in our uniforms, and therefore be spotted for the institute-saddled guys we were, but it was still away from all this nonsense around us. Unfortunately, getting closer but being a small town, there weren’t many places to go. We were still under 21, so the two bars in town were out, but there was one small diner at the end of one street. Basically, plucked from some 1950 photograph, I half expected to see poodle skirts and hear a jukebox playing vintage records. We didn’t, but splitting into two groups, we grabbed two booths at the end of one of the rows and enjoyed the atmosphere nonetheless. “You all comfortable?” a man soon asked us, as he hobbled over, his hair thinning and his apron caked in grease and what looked like mustard. We all nodded, and he smiled. “Perfect. I try to make it easier for you institute boys to get a good meal whenever you’re in town. Darn shame about the laws and all. Get’s mighty difficult, so just know that as long as you stay civil, this place will always be open to you.” I wondered why he emphasized ‘always,’ but I was learning to ask less questions. The answers could help me in the future, but learning more usually just hurt my heart more for a potential future the group could all face one day. Seconds later though, my thoughts were interrupted as the front door swung open and another large group waltzed in and took the booths on the other side of the diner. The owner looked back at us and sighed as they started harassing one of the waitresses and started yelling with their jokes and jabs at her. “Yeah… just don’t be like them.” “So, kick them out?” Mark suggested. “We can help if you need it,” August offered. “Maybe get the institute involved?” Tommy’s suggestions always followed the rules, and he seemed scared to his bones when August offered to help, especially once we realized that the large group was actually Nelson, Dilbert, and the rest of them. Fortunately for Tommy though, the man shook his head. “Thanks for the offer. Means a lot, but those guys…” The man looked over at them with a weary expression. “Piece of advice… don’t antagonize them, get in their way, or turn them in and not expect a problem to come launching back at you.” Having just been hit this morning by a few of them, I narrowed my eyes and leaned forward. “Why is that? Doesn’t everyone at the institute get a fair trial or whatnot?” The man scoffed. “Don’t count on it, kid. Name’s Donald, but everyone just calls me Don.” He stretched up and pointed to his shirt. “My dad founded this place about 50 years ago and I took over for him about five years ago now, but I’ve been working here forever. I remember when Smeckton used to just be a small private college for guys in the area. I remember when it became the institute, and I certainly remember punks like them. They all move in similar circles and get the same easy treatment. “What do you by that?” Bill instantly seemed suspicious, and he quickly shot their group a dirty look. “I…” Don shook his head. “I shouldn’t be telling you all this. They’ve got ears everywhere, especially here in town. Just…” He quickly shifted his eyes around the diner and then leaned in and whispered. “Just be careful around them, okay? Never turn them in unless you have definitive proof. I’ve seen way too many of you all go down for something that started with them.” With that, Don left and only returned to serve us our drinks while his waitress attended to Nelson and his group the best she could. Not long after we got our servings of ice cream for the night, mine extra heavy with sprinkles and whip cream, we stared at each other and gave weak but still present smiles. Smiling a little more broadly, I lifted my glassware to the ceiling. “I just want to thank you all for making it through one cycle of this whole mess. I didn’t know what to expect when I came here or even when I met you all. It just…” “It means a lot,” Bill finally finished my words when I couldn’t. I quickly nodded back and everyone else nodded back as well in agreement. “Well then!” Luke quickly added. “How about a cheer to meeting each other and to our futures!” Smiles lit up on everyone’s faces, and we all clinked our ice cream dishes together. “Cheers!” Wit the tension of Nelson’s group dissipated, we all started to have a little fun and relaxation. It was good to get out and about, and despite the possible risks being outside the institute poised, I felt it was all worth it. There were no problems here, and if there were, I felt the best course of action was to just stay out of it. It was good advice, but I knew it didn’t take much for it all to change. Just as I took another bite of my vanilla, cherry, and chocolate chip ice cream, we all heard a screeching siren go off outside. Being by the window, each of us pushed our faces up against the glass as close and as best we could to see what was happening. “Halt!” The glass wasn’t that thick, so we could almost hear everything perfect from our end. After only a quick glance as well, we discovered the sad truth. On one end of the street was a security officer for the institute and on the other was another student. I didn’t recognize him, but I did recognize the look of desperation on his face. From the way he was panting, I knew it could only mean one thing; he tried to escape the institute just now. “Shit… he’s a goner,” I noted wearily. Remembering to the student who had been dragged in front of the dining hall on our first day, I could only wait and watch the scene unfold before me. Director Breckenridge had promised leniency that day, and from what I was hearing, that meant 100 spanks in his private office. Seeing the fearful student against the guard outside, I couldn’t imagine what the normal punishment would be for trying to escape. “There’s no way to run,” the officer tried to warn. “Just come with me, son, and we can get this mess sorted out. Come peacefully and this doesn’t have to end badly.” But I saw the look in the student’s eyes. There was fear for sure, but a determination as well. Combine with his desperation, still painted all over his face, I knew a simple surrender wasn’t in the cards. Sadly, I was proven right. Moments later, the student quickly reached inside his coat pocket. The officer, clearly not sure which direction was going to go, soon opened fire and stunned the student thoroughly. The student twitched uncontrollably on the ground until at last, the officer seemed satisfied. Then, after a quick message to someone from some device on his wrist, five other officers showed up. Three helped clean up, but two others dragged and then hoisted the nearly lifeless student over their shoulders. After that, the cheers and celebrations and jokes we had made earlier, all vanished into dust. In our own ways, I suspected that everyone at our table and even the diner was concerned about what they had just seen, but once everything had cleared, it felt like everyone wanted to just talk about anything other than the problem at hand. Sitting back in my chair, I was glad I had made the friends that I did. Carl sat alone in a booth not far away, and Nelson and all were teasing him relentlessly. Still, we all sat in silence as soon, we were waiting on Giovani to finish his ice cream. As it odd as it may sound, the institute felt safe behind it’s walls. There were problems for sure, and I even registered them whenever I closed my eyes, but I found myself just trying to hold onto the fact that I was still here, and that simple little fact in my life had to count for something. So, we ate our ice creams and reveled silently in our last potential bits of freedom. We had made mad it through the first cycle, but one question remained that everyone had expressed at one time of another. ‘We made it through, but now, how much further we can venture before we run into a problem?’ 5 1
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