Operation Hebe: A Study in Numbers, Lace, and Padding (Chapter 29 - Complete)

[LostBBoyBear]

Warning

As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established 'Diaper Dimension.' 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
• Female domination 
• Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise)
• Experimentation on humans
• Kidnapping
• Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives
• Mild language or use of explitives
• Depictions of death, illness, or handicaps
• Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings
• Depictions of non-consent and other forced actions of a sexual or other type of encounter
• Emasculation and feminization through various means and to differnt ends
• Degredation of human anatomy and mental status

This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings.

Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed.

Hey everyone!

Welcome back and I hope everyone had as good of a break as I did! Work was stressful as usual these days, but it’s always nice to get away for a little bit from trying to meet my own personal deadlines, especially after such a large project as my last few stories were with some requiring all the completely new world-building and whatnot. Now, though, it’s just as equally good to be back and writing stories again.

Unlike my previous story, due to how the system works here, I needed to be very precise in calculating everything out before I wrote a single word down. That being said, some of these chapters have proven to be temperamental and don’t quite make the page count I thought they were going to or are entirely too long for a single one. So, right now, the total chapter count stands at 27, but this is subject to change. Some of the later chapters are mapped out precisely as they are and won’t change, but some of the chapters in the middle may need to be altered or fleshed out to give more growth to these characters here. Which I guess is all to say that if the final tally of chapters changes at all, I will let you all know.

Now, as much joy as I’ve derived from this story so far, I need to mention two caveats. First, I have based this story on a CYOA I found years ago. I’ve looked for the creator for at least five years now, but no such luck. I have also modified it for the story a little, but the concept is still there. Also, I should point out that because of some of the themes here, it will be a little coarser and more mature. I will try to give out warnings before some of the more intense scenes, but be warned, this one is not all fluffy diapers and pink princesses.

Next, as is typical these days, I will post the next poll at the start of the following chapter. Looking ahead, I already know that this concept will be a one-off story, so there will not be a sequel in its future. With that in mind, the next poll will contain one DD story and two others that are a little more on the supernatural/spooky side. Because of this, I might try to put out more than three chapters a week and I might take a shorter break, but I think the stories are interesting enough on their own and plus, they have never been shown in one of my polls before. So, be on the lookout for all that next.

Also, looking ahead, I’m absolutely tasking myself with writing/editing at least three chapters a week. That being said, with 27 current chapters and at least three a week, this will definitively bump into about mid-October, which means that I will be pausing at least at one point for a multi-day vacation. Once again, I’m headed down to Florida, but this time, it will be for some Halloween-themed events, so you just never know what twisted or fantastical tales I might come back with for new story ideas, so take comfort in the delay with the prospect of at least other future stories from me.

Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this first chapter of my next story!

Chapter 1: Starting Off, 35-01

Blindfold. Gag. My hands are behind my back and tied with something… rope, I think. The truck I saw for a brief second before getting hustled up into it has a rusty axel that’s connected to a suspension that bounces heavily each time that we hit a pothole or some other ungodly bump in the road. The sound of cars, machinery… even people… all that vanished at least three hours ago now. In the back of the canvas-drawn over truck, I can feel the intense heat rise all around me as each hour passes and the day creeps on. Thinking back, though, despite my current circumstances, I guess I shouldn’t have been too surprised that this is where I ended up… but really, I just wanted a job again.

*              *              *

The suited man opens the door for me and gestures inside.

I look and blink a few times at the sparseness of what I’m seeing inside the hole that is the room he is gesturing to. “You’re kidding, right?”

The older gentleman glares at me from his at least six inches above me. “No. You want the help… you go inside. No questions asked and you follow the instructions… or you’re out. No exceptions.”

I wince a little and even turn around to view the door I just came from. I recite over in my head how to make a quit exit in case I need to. ‘Three lefts, down one floor, and through the main lobby and the security there and then out the front doors.’ There, it would be freedom and the life I had… rather than a barren room of unknown before me.

But I also know what’s out there waiting for me beyond those front doors.

The world sucks for people in my position, and my pride went out the window the first time another bill came in without the funds to fully back even one or two more of them. Simply put… I’m desperate. So, with a deep plunging breath, I go forward into the room. Once inside, with a sigh, I sit in the far metal chair with my back to a mirror… likely a two-way like an interrogation room. I feel the hair stand up on my neck and a growl inside my stomach… warning me to run, but these people have me cornered with the prospect of opportunity. So, even as the main door closes to this little barren room, I can really only just sit there and squash my horrid feelings deep down.

Now alone with my thoughts and trying not to assume or think the worst-case scenario, I look around the room and try and check if this is some trick or a test of some kind. ‘No… no hidden messages on the walls… no pen or paper. Not even a whisper of something I should be listening for.’ It’s just me and the singular metallic desk and two hard metal chairs… both cold and unfeeling as they slightly glint off the single overhead light that slightly pendulums back and forth.

Gratefully though, not to long after, the door then reopens, and another suited man comes in with a manilla folder. His expression is mostly neutral but his taught features and cropped haircut reek of ex-military and no nonsense. I could immediately feel a tightness in my stomach, one which I try to will away as I shift slightly in the chair.

The man then closes the door and sits down calmly and without even a single word back to me before opening the folder out flat on the table. I immediately notice my photo on the upper right holding on by a single paperclip.

“State your name for the record,” he commands, taking out a black-cased pen from the inside of his suit jacket.

I swallow hard and wish more than anything that a glass of water would have been right there in front of me in that moment. “Jack… Thomas.”

The man pauses and looks up at me with a hint of a hateful and annoyed glared in his eyes. “Your full name, Mr. Thomas.”

I hesitate for a moment, hating my middle name… always have, but the man keeps staring at me. Maybe if the room was pastel blue and I hadn’t been frisked on my way in, I might have asked a simple ‘why,’ but my present circumstances tell me that any perceived ‘backtalk’ or questioning would be unwise. “Jack… Marie Thomas.” I can’t help but say my middle name with a slight distaste in my mouth. ‘Stupid family name…’

As typically happens, as I say it out loud, despite likely knowing it beforehand and just confirming my identity, even the stern man before me seems to find my middle name amusing… Ultimately though, he says nothing about it. He then uses his pen to go through several more verifications of my identity… social security, gender, age. All typical for someone trying to confirm I am who I say I am. Working for the government before, all that at least doesn’t faze me.

But then comes the questions afterward.

At first, they seem pretty normal for someone in my situation… like how long I have been unemployed, or, what my financial situation looks like, but then they start to veer towards the realm of being highly uncomfortable as why they would even need to be asked in the first place. Questions like, “Do you have heart troubles?” or “Do you have any family that miss you if you were absent?” are among the more particularly alarming.

Finally, after he asks me if I’ve ‘had any surgeries,’ I can’t take it any longer.

“Okay!” I shout, standing up and forcing my chair backward toward the likely two-way mirror. “No more questions! I’ve answered everything from my size to sexual preference to even if I have any allergies to medications or latex! What the hell does that have anything to do with finding a job?”

The suited man glares at me and calmly stands up, towering over me. “Sit down, Mr. Thomas. These are all vital questions, I assure you… and we’re almost done.”

His calm presence slightly infuriates me and only adds to my already-present anger. “Sit down? That’s all?” I smack the table. “Screw this, mister! I’m getting out of here right this second!” I march toward the door, but as my hand touches the doorknob, the man speaks up once more.

“Mr. Thomas… Jack.” He calmly walks over to me and stands right up against my left side, staring down at me… not with rage or annoyance, but almost a calm passivity of a parent to a child. It more than halts my efforts in leaving right away. “You will find no locks on these doors or any others in this building toward the exit. You are free to go anytime you please...”

Determined and still disturbed, my hand turns the knob. “Well, then. I’m getting the hell out of…”

“But I encourage you to stay,” he says resolutely in a way that stops my hand cold… almost like he knows something I don’t. He then walks back over to the desk and retrieves my file before switching it to one of the pages on the left side. “It says here you’ve been out of a job for about a month now, which you also just confirmed for me. I’ll stop the questions, but… let’s talk about that for a second.” He pauses briefly. “Promise. Nothing more.”

I hesitate to move back to the table, but I at least remove my hand from the doorknob and reface him.

If nothing else, he seems happy about that. “Good. Now, come back to the table and sit down. Or stand… I just want to lay out your options here, Mr. Thomas.”

I grumble and nearly leave on the spot, but there’s an odd quality about this man that makes me stay. I don’t know what it is, but that intangible quality eases me up a little. So, at least curious now, I walk back over to my chair… but I don’t sit down.

“Very good, Mr. Thomas.” He calmly flips through several pages in my file. “So, again… you were laid off from your job about a month ago, correct?”

“Correct,” I confirm, feeling a little deflated at admitting that. “I knew it was coming though. I’ve been working part-time for almost eight months now. Budget cuts and all…”

The suited man nods. “Yes. The economy isn’t doing wonders at the moment and there have been several cuts to federal programs. Seems like your program was hit but you managed to linger on… at least until last month.”

“Yes,” I admit, my ego deflating even more.

“And from your earlier confirmation and from what it says from the application you filled out online that you’ve been looking for a job since then?” he asks before looking up at me. “But nothing since?”

I shake my head. “Nothing serious. Small positions. Some part-time work I’m looking at in the meantime, but… I need something more. You can’t live in this area without something steady anymore.”

“Yes…” The suited man’s eyes nearly seem to glow with opportunity, happiness, and another quality underneath that would amount to something nearly sinister.

I focus on that last bit.

“I see all that on your file here. Some college debts remaining… ouch on those, but a car payment… three years from paying off, and…” He looks back up at me and squints his eyes. “No savings?”

I shake my head, and I feel I can’t sink any lower now in this room, sitting in the chair in a slump of built-up defeat before this mysterious figure… a deflated and defeated individual. “No… I have some savings, but… the form asked if I had less than $1000 in savings… which I do. So, yes, some saving, but not enough to check off the box indicating something higher.”

“I see… so practically nothing and you’re living on fumes now as well…” He doesn’t wait for me to respond as my silence does plenty of talking alone. “So, you see, Mr. Thomas… when I ask you these questions… I know they may be intrusive, but honestly, this is for a government position and what amounts to an ultimate handout. With the economy and layoffs recently, I’m sure you can understand that we have many candidates in search of work or money these days.”

He lets his points hang in the air for a moment, each one a painful reminder of my desperation and how close I am to failing completely. I wished I could say I had backups or a plan to bail me out, but that would be a lie. My parents are far away and broke themselves after sinking their money into some long-term investment. My brother is too busy with his wife and a new kid on the way… and we aren’t even that close. And friends? Well, I’m not exactly a social butterfly and the loss of my job hasn’t helped with that any in finding new ones. The suited man has me cornered and while the door is unlocked… it might as well be a safe door as far as I’m concerned for leaving through it now. Despite my apprehension, I know that this is one of the few chances I have to get out of the hole I’m digging myself further into every day.

And terribly, the suited man knows it. His underlying smile, so subtle as to almost even be unseen, ripples along and emphasizes my desperation and his next question. “So… may I continue?”

Submissive to his whims and with the knowledge that I have nowhere else to turn, I merely nod my head.

He smiles, but this time his glee is obvious over my compliance with what he wants. “Excellent. Now,” he flips another page from the right side of my file, “do you have any fetishes… sexual deviancies? I really try not to judge… Purely for the record.”

An hour later I’m back out on the street in Washington D.C. It’s been my home for years now, but lately it’s felt more like a self-contained prison. Each Brutalist building contrasts heavily with the Greek Revival ones, but each seems like a slap in my face now as I pass by them. ‘That’s where I used to work…’ is my constant theme these days, and each day that passes without a solid job, those words feel more distant.

So, in an attempt to blur my lines of what is real and what is crushing, I head to the nearest bar I can remember. It’s a small little thing and usually a pretty quiet behind the Archives building… mostly a place for stuffy politicians or glassy eye curators. For me, though, I just order a beer and sigh as I look down into it and the bubbles fizzing up from the bottom. It’s a small distraction, but it still work its magic and let’s me forget for a second…

“Pretty shit, huh?” the bartender asks out loud, catching me off guard.

I look up with bleary eyes and squint back at him as he polishes off another glass with his dish towel. “Huh?”

He gestures to the nearby small TV, almost looking at odds with the rest of the older style bar in the district. Still, unlike most others in the city, it displays the news instead of sports. Most newcomers request to change it, but that’s not what this place is about, and they’re always shot down. In this place, it’s all about governmental policy and change.

So, when I look up at the TV and see yet another news report, it’s not surprising, but the headline opens my eyes more than I care to admit. “Government eases testing standards for new programs.” It could be worse, especially in the modern climate, but still… it makes me wonder.

“Hard to believe. Maybe chickens won’t be tested as well or something. Saving a buck or two, I guess…” I shrug, not really knowing the answers and not being surprised by most anything on the news anymore.

The bartender eyes a nearby chicken sandwich with more than a little unease but ultimately collects it and comes back. “Maybe, but… ready for another round tonight?” He gestures at the once full beer in my hands currently.

I sigh and stare at my nearly empty glass. I want another, but ultimately, I shake my head. “No, would love to but…” I don’t finish my thoughts and simply pull out my only 20-dollar bill and hand it over. From the change I get back, I am sure to still leave a decent tip. I might be screwed these days, but I just can’t find it in myself to tip poorly.

I walk back to my apartment rather than taking the metro. It saves me a little money, and the walking feels good… despite the fact that the weather is unseasonably warm for this time of year. It especially doesn’t help as I make my way up the flight of stairs and to my actual apartment. Little beads of sweat are already pouring from my forehead as my keys turn to my barebones living space.

With my previous job, I was never here much before, so I never felt the need for more. Now though, especially as I immediately go back to job hunting and checking my email, it feels especially lonely. Tonight however, while I’m looking through my emails, I see what I’ve been looking for now for a month.

The newest email in my inbox blinks and is all in bold. “Your application has been accepted.”

It’s all I can do to keep myself from jumping up and down in joy after reading the header of the fresh and beautiful email message. “Yes! Finally!” I briefly stifle my joy and check out the job… just in case of spam. To my utter relief, it seems all legitimate. So, not wasting a second, I quickly reply back to set up an interview. My hand nearly shakes the whole time I’m writing the email back to them. I can feel the electricity of the potential in the moment. It feels like… freedom… opportunity.

Once I hit send though, I allow the waves of euphoria to fully pour through me. I’m electric… thrilled… jubilant. I jump up and after even do a little dance before snapping my fingers. “This calls for a celebration!” So, once more, I grab my keys and head out my door to the nearest convenience store.

It’s small and a little dingy around the back, but they have a great selection of chips and ice cream… perfect for a little late night snack celebration. I almost go for chocolate and cherry, but considering the heat and the occasion though, I grab my favorite flavor of chocolate and peanut butter. It feels so good to clutch that pint of cold deliciousness in my hand and I even whistle slightly as I checkout.

“Man, I wish I could be that happy about something,” the store owner tells me.

“Oh, it feels great,” I acknowledge. “Just got a job application back and I’m waiting to set up an interview. I can honestly say that it’s the best news I’ve had in a month.”

The store owner’s eyes light up and he smiles wide. “Congratulations, sir! Best of luck to you on that,” he says, handing me the receipt with nearly a bounce in his words now. Most people know the horrible state of the economy and the huge numbers of joblessness. An interview was always great before, but these days… it’s an even bigger deal.

I smile even wider and take my receipt. “Thank you! I really think things are just about to turn the corner for me…” I then exit the store and head back to my apartment.

I’m humming along the darkened street… a few lights out from the lack of maintenance. Crime is up in the area, but my apartment isn’t far, and I almost have developed sixth sense about these things by now.

But I’m happy.

That wouldn’t be a problem normally, but I’m nearly in bliss. There’s something so alluring and free about the prospect of an interview for me. It’s a light at the end of the tunnel and a beacon of hope I can turn toward through the rough storms that is my life at the moment. It should all be grand. I’m even whistling a bit once again and focusing just on what is in front of me.

I’m distracted.

I don’t hear the crack of a twig on the sidewalk behind me like I normally would. I don’t pay attention to the rubber turning on the pavement off to the side or the deft footsteps on the alleyway down on my left. I’m oblivious to all other things other than my own happiness that yes, I’ve turned the corner in life. Yes, most absolutely, things will be different.

Turns out… just not in the way that I wanted.

The personnel that surround me are very quick. Professional, burly, and imposing masked figures. They bear no insignia, and I can’t make anything out of them except their maybe six inches to a foot in height and maybe 30 pounds of muscle over me at least.

One gets me from behind and places their hand over my mouth with some kind of cloth. Two go for my arms quickly after and lock me into place. The fourth goes for my legs in a vice-like grip. I can’t move and I’m being hauled away… right down the darkened alleyway and into a van.

I try to scream. I try to flail around… but it’s useless. I’m useless.

I’m packed into the black van in seconds, and I hear the side sliding door crunch over on its tracks and then slam shut before the vehicle lurches away. I barely move with how I’m still being held.

No voices around me. Just hand signals and quick and efficient meaty hands that go to work around me. I’m locked in and I can’t do anything about it.

Darkness starts to envelop me.

The van is dark and curtains black out most of the light, but quickly, I know with terrifying horror that this is something more.

My limbs become heavy. The fight inside me begins to fade whether I wish for it or not. I want to kill these people… at least scratch or beat them senselessly and flee back into the night and up to the relative safety of my apartment. But those are the actionable desires of someone fully conscious.

Simply put, that isn’t me anymore.

A hand is still over my mouth. Though the edges of my world begin to blur, I still smell something chemical in front of me. ‘The white rag covering my mouth and nose must be laced with something.’ There’s no other rational explanation for how I’m feeling right now. It’s a terrible sinking feeling in my gut.

But it doesn’t matter.

The figure that was once holding my legs now comes over to me, and while the van is still mostly black, a flash of light streams in from the front and highlights the metallic cylinder precariously balanced in their hands. The needle at the tip almost seems to sparkle and drip with something magical and yet unwanted. I’m not a genius, but it doesn’t take one to realize what is about to happen.

With my last efforts of strength, I thrash about. But again, I’m useless. Before, it was the locked position of the personnel holding and pinning me in place. Now, I feel their grip is still locked but now significantly loosened. If anything, my efforts against them come off as simply pathetic.

So, whether I wish it or not, the person takes advantage of my uselessness and weakness and comes forward. Before I can even attempt to scream out, he quickly jabs the needle right into my arm.

It burns heavily and I wince and try to scream in pain as it plunges deep. But again, I’m useless. I’m powerless to stop anything, and worse… the blackness, at first creeping, now surges forward around my vision like a crashing wave. Now, there is nothing more. I feel nothing. I am nothing.

*              *              *

The bumps that jostled me awake earlier are no less smooth now than they were previously from what had to be at least three hours ago. I have to pee something fierce but the truck I’m bound, gagged, and blindfolded in has shown no signs of stopping. Occasionally, I hear something on the radio or hushed whispers, but that’s about it.

I could forgive anyone from thinking that it meant I didn’t know anything. True, I couldn’t hear or really touch anything, but my other senses were ever more focused. I had watched a documentary last year about a woman who fled her kidnapper and because she remembered the sound of a train going by not long before the car she was in stopped, the police were able to later apprehend her kidnapper. So, drawing at least a few parallels between our situations, as soon as I had come to my senses, I tried to figure out anything I could in this less-than-ideal situation.

The road was rough and bumpy. As I noted before, it’s what jostled me awake after I had passed out in D.C., but that was another prominent thing. Also, yes, it was summer in D.C., and the old swamp area was particularly humid, but now… it is still hot around me, but more of a dry heat. I feel the sweat accumulate slightly around my body in the back of the truck… likely poorly ventilated and maybe even open to the outside in places. I’m not entirely sure about that, but the heat and lack of humidity tell me that I’m nowhere near to where I live.

Potentially problematic, yes, but also telling. Loving to travel, I’ve been to most of the surrounding states near D.C., and what’s absolutely certain, nowhere right now is receiving dry heat as their weather forecast right now. It’s either something akin to the swamps of Satan or the near drownings of a wretched batch of storms in the areas… not this.

So, I begin to check off in my mind where I could be. ‘Definitely west of the Appalachian Mountains… but no cold or extreme breezes of the Rockies… plus maybe too far. Back roads definitely… so not near a city. No traffic lights either, since we haven’t stopped once, so that kills a lot of places as well. Figure a straight drive since last night and the amount of heat… intense and not boiling but growing… means early or midday… but that also would only place me somewhere along just east of the Mississippi longitude from when I was kidnapped last night to now.’ I paused and winced. ‘No… that’s not right, so… crap. Was I out for a whole day already? My bladder… shit. I’m even further west. Maybe a full day then… Still a big area though. Doesn’t narrow it down too much, but it’s something.’ I hope I’m wrong in most of that in a way, since going to a barren area hardly ever spelled something good, but considering I was kidnapped already… my luck doesn’t seem that good.  

The truck bounces me about a few more times and my need to pee is near to the bursting point. I try thinking about almost anything else, but that’s proving an issue. Between my hunger, my bladder, and my confinement, I nearly feel bugs crawling over my skin in a near phantom itch to move… to run. Just… anything more than this.

I try to speak, but the gag prevents anything but a muffled sound emitting instead of the pleas to let me go or at least let me move around that I truly intend. It does attract the attention of my kidnappers though…

“Hey, you!” a gruff voice nearly growls at me. “Cut that out. We’re almost there, so just sit tight. We can’t hurt you, but we can make your last moments out here very miserable.” I feel a hand shove me slightly back. “So… what’s it going to be? Stay calm or are we going to have to get… creative?”

I sense his threat is exactly that. There was no hesitation or even any signs of a bluff on his part. This man, whoever he is, seems to have both done this before and be pretty okay with it and whatever else was necessary in his role to subdue me. So, weighing my options, considering my current state of being trapped, mute, and blind… I settle down and don’t say a word.

The man chuckles. “Good boy. Maybe there’s hope for you yet…”

His words do nothing to help the already pent-up and dreading feeling I had since I had been taken.

Still, despite his gruffness and threats to use possibly violence or torture or some other nasty thing against me, the man was at least telling the truth that we would soon arrive. The van quickly lurches to a stop.

A few shuffling noises later, my blindfold is finally removed.

I have to blink a few seconds as the light streams all around me from the windows in the front and the back. I find it strange that the van is so open like that now as compared to last night with the curtains on the windows, but the figures in front of my vision fully distract me from any further thoughts on the matter. Masked and geared to the hilt, they exude an ex-military vibe that I often saw in my previous job when dealing with mercenaries and security personnel we contracted out for our safety sometimes.

Not saying a word, the lead man then points out the door that is soon opened.

More light floods in and I look back to the man who gestured to the door for more answers. I’m not sure why he isn’t just using his words, but at this point, I remember the veiled threat before. Whatever this is, I absolutely don’t want to make it uncomfortable… or at least more so than it already is.  

The man simply waves his hand at me out the door.

I take his meaning this time to exit the vehicle. I’m still gagged, and my hands are bound together tightly… uncomfortably at this point, but again, I don’t want to cause any more problems for myself. Simply put… between the dry heat, the backroads, lack of traffic lights, and the amount of time it took to get here and stop, I don’t like my chances of escape.

Terrifyingly, my suspicions are confirmed when I exit the vehicle. Desert… or at least at best a barren wasteland of dried-up prairies stretches for what seems like miles in all directions. Hazy mountains flank to the west, and to the east… nothing. I think I see a shimmering glint of maybe a tower… a fence… something, but definitely not civilization. If anything, even those signs of something else seem to reinforce the barrenness of where I’m currently standing.

Another masked and geared man comes up to me and holds up a tablet of sorts near my head before glaring right at me. “Confirm… Jack Maria Thomas,” he directs right as another man removes the gag from my mouth from behind.

I smack my mouth together a few times in an effort to remove the nasty threads left on my tongue. I can already feel the dryness of a lack of water from all that time, but I also see the masked man’s eyes. Sharp, focused… full of duty, sternness, and no-nonsense. I saw the same in the other man and I know not to screw around, but I know I need to try. “Please… just let me go and…”

“Confirm,” he presses again, this time with a small amount of anger behind his voice and one of his fingers seemingly itching toward the stock of the gun he’s carrying as well.

I swallow hard at the scene, and I nod as fast as I can. “Yes… that’s me.” I take a breath. “But what…?”

“Silence.” His voice isn’t annoyed, angry, or even shrill like I might has expected. Just more to the point and focused on the task he seemingly has to perform. To me, it seems we both have our roles to fill… ‘Definitely not the overall leader of this thing.’

The man taps a few more things on the tablet before him, before strangely looking dismayed.

I almost question him, but with everything going on around me, my thoughts bounce from one subject to the next and his looks take a momentary backseat. My vision moves from the desert landscape to the horizon line, to the distant mountains, to the men with guns… and then even to what I am currently wearing.

Before, back in D.C., I was still wearing the suit I had worn to the interview earlier in the day. I had removed the suit jacket once I got home, but the button-up shirt and pants were definitely still attached to me. Now, they’re gone and in their place is a faded green prison jumpsuit of sorts. I swallow hard at the implications…

Finally looking up from his tablet, the man looks at me once more. “Okay… here’s your situation. In a moment, you’re going to a bunker of sorts. You will be there for one year, and at the end… you’ll get a substantial payout for your services.”

I frown back at him in confusion, but I keep my mouth shut, my eyes still drifting to the rifle attached to his body. ‘Definitely not where I thought this was going…’

“I see you have questions,” the man notes, stepping closer to me, “but they will have to wait. We need to do two things right now. First, know there are only three ways out of this.” He holds up one finger. “First… quit. You do that and all the money reserved for you at the end will be forfeited, and you will receive no government assistance of any kind afterward.” He holds up a second finger. “Two… flee. You try to escape, and…” He pivots over and points to the shiny point at the distance I had seen earlier. “You see that?”

I quickly nod.

“Good. That’s a watch tower. They’re all around you,” he notes menacingly as he gestures in a circle around where we’re standing before he rests his hand on his large gun. “They have guns just like this one… or even much larger. You escape; they have the option to shoot you on sight. You survive; you go back and incur a penalty… a harsh one.” He glares at me. “I wouldn’t suggest that route.”

I wince but note internally that there’s still one more option. “And third?” I ask hesitantly, the first two options seeming truly terrible and hoping beyond measure that somehow the third would be more reasonable.

“Third…” He smirks down at me, his few inches of height over me seemingly a lot more in our current roles. “Well, third is that you finish the year here. It might seem like a burden and impossible in the days ahead, but considering the others, I would still recommend option three.”

Again, I quickly nodded. Another person, feistier and more combative might have fought, but that wasn’t me. I was trying to use my head, and simply put, I saw my options and the remoteness of where I was. Fight, escape, and flee, but to where? Out here, even if I managed to avoid the towers with big guns, my survival out here wouldn’t be guaranteed in the slightest. So, as much as a little voice inside my head was telling me to, my instincts told me as plain as day that fighting back would be pointless… foolhardy at best.

“Very good. Maybe there’s hope for you after all…” He smirks and turns back to his tablet before holding it back up to me. “Now then… in you go…”

I blink back at the man and look around. “Go? Go where?”

The man points nearby and while I have to squint my eyes to see it, only about thirty yards away is what amounts to a slit in the ground. Only about 20 feet long, I see the ground plunges inward and leads to a submerged door right under the surface of the soil above. All of it concrete… devoid of emotion… uninviting.

I feel a cold splinter of fear enter my heart.

“Wha… what’s down there?” I ask, a weakness and subsequent trembling sensation beginning to take over my limbs as the true measure of my situation begins to unfold before my eyes.

“That…” the man noted smugly. “That… is your new home for the next year… or at least the entrance to it.” He pauses for a minute, but me still not budging, the man then scowls back at me and raises his rifle barrel to my chest. “Now… I said to move. Or are you going to be giving us a problem already?”

I see his rifle. I see the desperation of my situation being stuck in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by towers that had ‘shoot on sight’ orders. It was horrible, but it was that or the unfeeling bunker-like entrance now before me. Underground and heavy duty… there now seemed to be a permanence to my situation that I hadn’t felt before. I didn’t want to go down there. That’s for sure. I had read and heard about these things before… down there meant torture or death or imprisonment. I would be lucky to ever see the sun again.

But… the gun in the hands of a scowling and tough ex-military masked figure before me presents an unmistakable choice, death or compliance. Unlike the previous man in the van before, the one in front of me had made no such promises of not hurting me. Somehow, the van ride now felt like the preliminary phase of all this, but now that I was here, the stakes of it all… the reality and actual event seem to be at my feet now.

I didn’t like it… but I knew my options… and their limits.

So, I meekly raise my still-bound hands as best to surrender and walk over to the entrance… no fight… no protest…

Again, despite him still aiming his gun center-point at my chest, he smiles and soon follows me over to the slit in the ground that is to be my ‘home’ for the next year.

Stopping right before the steps to the door, I turn around and hold my bound wrists up. “Can I… well, can I at least be free before I go down?” I try to widen my eyes and seem as desperate as possible. I want to stay strong, but I felt there was a wide gap between entering the creepy bunker with my hands bound versus them free. So, I had to try at least.

There’s a grumble and an annoyance from my masked captors, but the main leader nods his head to one of the other men behind me.

This new masked man comes at me hard and quickly flicks out a long knife from one of his chest pockets. It shines underneath the desert sun; glinting and deadly.

I wince and shut my eyes… painfully aware that I’ve likely lost the protection that was once promised to me before. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, with everything going on, I’m no longer taking anything for granted… not even my safety or my life.

But the man only ambles over, roughly takes my wrists, and cuts the rope that was binding them together.

I open my eyes and see my now free wrists. “Thank you…” I muster out.

The man only grunts and turns away… leaving the leader to point his gun once more at me. “Alright… you’re free. Now, down you go.”

Again, his actions are clear, and his gun speaks the volumes that he doesn’t. It says threat and deadly force is now authorized on my hide. It says this is serious business and whatever awaits me in the hole, in case I already knew what was happening, isn’t going to be much better… or at least to the point where they would need to threaten me with entering or face down death itself.

I rationalize that most things are better than death and then place my foot on the first step going down. 

My knees wobble as I turn around full now and head down the stairs. The morning sun begins to arc overhead and fill the hole with light, showing off all the dust floating around in such a barren climate. I see the door ahead of me… it’s shine in stark contrast to the rusted stains on the concrete around it… almost like the place had recently been repurposed… like I was the first guest to come here in years and precautions to keep me in needed to be upgraded. Seeing all that, my hands tremble as they reach out to the large wheel to open the door before me now.

But, just in case, I turn around and look one last time at the leader. “I…”

I don’t get to finish my thought… my counter to all this, hoping to plead one more time to leave. Instead, the man points his gun at me, but this time… he also makes sure to place his eye along the top rail of the gun, aiming at me with deadly precision. His new actions are clear to me now.

Get into this bunker-like structure underground now and be a smear against the door instead.

With such an ultimatum, I snap back to the door. I reach out with both hands this time and turn the wheel. It creaks and moans in an awfully hellish way like I am about to enter the very bowels and devilry of the earth. My stomach drops more, and I feel a single bead of sweat perspire on my forehead as the wheel finally budges. It turns and turns some more… the door finally opening.

Inside is just another set of stairs downward. Darkness enshrouds more than a few feet, and I hesitate, but my ears pick up the faintest clicking noise. With my last job and growing up with a few who took me to a shooting range, I knew that sound… it was a gun loading its ammo… the weapon aligning with the bullet. Next stop, my head… my body.

I have no choice. I don’t even turn around this time to plead to be let go or question a thing. I simply walk forward to my fate, sheer blinding light behind me and nothing but cold concrete and darkness before me. I swallow hard and give myself over to be swallowed by the earth and whatever this place is.

Fully in, the door slams behind me.

To my relief a few lights flicker on ahead of me. The stairs don’t descend as far as I originally thought but the ominous cramped feeling of all this place gives me a terrible case of claustrophobia. I immediately want out, but a quick turn of my head only reveals a thoroughly shut door behind me… and no handle or even a wheel to let myself out even if I chose that option and forfeited the end prize.

Now, whether I want it or not, I’m truly trapped.

Suddenly, a speaker overhead crackles to life. The sound coming from it takes a second to synch and come in as more than static, but even in the old-fashioned clicks and echoes of a speaker system at least thirty years old now sounds like, the words are very clear. “Keep moving.”

I don’t know why, but I merely nod my head in compliance.

I can’t go back. The sealed door and lack of egress proves that at least ten times over in my head. I can only go forward, and now with the lights… it’s not just wandering around blindly in the dark. It’s a concession for sure as to how far I’ve fallen into this terrible plot seemingly against me, but again… I feel I have no choice, or at least not a real one...

Wandering down the staircase, holding onto the rail the entire time, I eventually come to a landing zone of sorts before another door.

The speaker in front of me this time crackles once more. “Scan your hand on the pad in front of you.”

I look and that beyond the grungy metal fittings and the leaking concrete in places, there is a brand-new electronic system… right next to where there is a large pad. It blinks a few times and then stops. Looking around, I don’t see any traps, so, I sigh and place my hand on the pad as instructed.

The pad hums and blinks a few times before turning green.

“Excellent,” the voice behind the speaker says once more. “You may proceed inside.”

A hiss follows and the large metallic door before me opens wide.

“Step in,” the voice calls out overhead.

Not wanting to stay any longer in the hallway than I need to, I step inside… only to wish I saw just about anything else.

Inside is only what I could describe as a jail cell. A simple plastic-like faded green bed has been shoved against one wall. The most basic metallic and uninviting toilet and sink are against another. A barred door is at the other end and as if I didn’t remember for whatever reason, the other door behind me slams and hisses close. Curiously, as I turn back, I am only greeted by a flat wall with a single seem around the edges of where the door had opened up. It’s all cold, barren, and unfeeling… except the electronic device in the corner of the room.

Compared to everything else, it seems out of place. Not much larger than an oversized notebook, it blinks to life, and a single plain computerized image of a person appears. “Come here,” the voice from before says without emotion, now sounding more like a computer recording than an actual human being.

I step forward cautiously and for whatever reason, I wave at the thing. “Hello?”

“Greetings… candidate 35-01.” Again, the voice grates and there’s almost a synthetic whine behind it as well. “Please confirm identity and place hand on screen where indicated.”

Like before, I see the blinking panel just to the left of the computerized plain head staring back at me. I sigh and place my hand where instructed. “Jack Marie Thomas.” I was starting to get annoyed at having to say my name… particularly my middle name, so often.

A ping goes off and the voice returns. “Welcome, 35-01… Mr. Thomas. You have been selected by the government from a contest of over a thousand candidates to participate in a year long study and observation, known to authorities as ‘Operation Hebe.’ During this time, you will be required to make certain selections in order to facilitate your life… benefits or consequences.”

The screen then changes to a counter, but to my dismay it starts simply at 100 and then counts down to only 5. “These are your starting points. As you will see, think of these as a money system of sorts. The more you have, the more you can obtain. All candidates are assigned what you will find labeled as the ‘jail cell.’ You may opt out of this at any time but know that your points can never equal less than zero. Answer, ‘acknowledge’ that you understand this.”

Seeing the numbers count down to only 5 quickly gives me an uneasy feeling in all this. I feel queasy… faint and dizzy too. I nearly fall over right then, but I place one hand against the wall at the last second and take a deep breath. “Acknowledge.” The words feel like poison over my tongue, but I don’t see many other ways out.

“Recorded.” The screen then flickers briefly and then changes to a large screen with several labels on it.

Even in my brief look before it flashes away, I see two labels… listed as ‘Makeup’ and ‘Owners.’ “What the fu…?”

“Please, 35-01,” the electronic and mostly faceless voice interrupted. “Look through these first few categories that are mandatory. We will give you some time to choose as we know this may be a shock to your system, but your non-compliance will be met with punishment.”

The screen flashes back to the selection options. ‘Makeup’ and ‘Owners’ appears, but so do others before the screen switches once again to one labeled at the top as ‘Medicine Effects at 6 Months.’ My eyes instantly widen in shock at the options… particularly with the flashing ‘Selection of One Mandatory’ sign near the top, highlighted all in red.

“Hair growth? Incontinence? Penis shrinkage? IQ drop?” I yell out at the screen to where I once saw the lifeless computerized head of the only voice I had been hearing down here. “What the hell is this place?” I smack the bars next to the screen, but there is no response.

It’s just me here… me alone with these horrid options. Me alone in a self-described ‘jail cell.’ Me alone after being kidnapped and now confirmed to be part of the government.

I slump on the bed in realization of everything clicking together. “The government… the interview I did…” Me, the homeless, ex-government employee walked right into this trap. I wanted a job, and now… for the next year, I seemed to have one.

My mind swirled, but it didn’t last long.

“35-01. Please make your choice. You now have one hour to make your choices… or suffer the subsequent punishments,” it calls out, its electronics seeming fragile in this state as it droned on.

I look over at the still-flashing screen and the selection I have to make. Considering the methods that were employed to get me here… the guns… the towers… the desert… even the bunker I was now in. It all leads me to the same conclusion… punishments mean business here and finding out what they were was ill-advisable to say the least.

I sigh and stand up. “Fuck… this is going to be a very bad year…”

[BabySofia]

Good start, I'm hoping this isn't going to be quite as dark as the boys school novel? 

[LostBBoyBear]

4 hours ago, BabySofia said:

Good start, I'm hoping this isn't going to be quite as dark as the boys school novel? 

I don't think I can promise that... sorry.

[BabySofia]

8 minutes ago, LostBBoyBear said:

I don't think I can promise that... sorry.

Thanks for being honest about it!

[codsterc10@msn.com]

Nice job i like it so far 

[LostBBoyBear]

Hey everyone!

As is usual lately, I am giving you all the options to vote in a poll for the next story I write. From what I can gather, the DD stories might be wearing thin (at least compared to other stories), so as I noted before, I am providing two other types of stories in addition to only the single DD story this go-around. If the DD story wins, no problem, but I figured I would give you all plenty of opportunities for other adventures as well. Looking ahead and calculating when this story will be done, I estimate that it will be right around the time of Halloween, so I’ve made sure to add in two stories here that follow that spirit a little more closely. 

Also, as a reminder, I will be posting the results of this poll within the beginning of the last chapter for this story. I will also give you all at least one reminder of this during the story and a final reminder in the penultimate, or second to last, chapter.

For now, though, here are the ideas:

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 to the still struggling populace of Earth as ‘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… plus something else that she has been longing for 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. Will she make it out? Will she succumb like so many that follow her in the years to come? Find out in this unwinding story of betrayal, kidnapping, the lust for wealth, and the promise, false or not, of a new life.

Witch Backfire

Power, revenge, and protection against one’s enemies… all simple and straightforward desires in life, especially for a witch as powerful as Bronwyn Howells. ‘Bonnie,’ as she’s more commonly known, is one of the more powerful in her witch’s coven, but her ancestry, own personal desires, and the pressure from her family to live up to her potential and the family name have pushed her too far. Add in the mix of a complicated spell and things inevitably go wrong. Follow the newly affected little witch as she attempts to gain any semblance of normalcy in her new smaller and weaker life… and regain her lost power. With any luck, hopefully by the end she will learn that sometimes acceptance and steering into the troubles of life is sometimes the best course of action… at least before it’s too late for her.

Ghost Spirit

Losing a loved one can be devastating enough but trying to find them again in the spirit realm is even worse. Enter Liam… a devastated run of the mill guy who has recently lost his fiancé recently. Trying anything to reunite with her, he turns to mysticism and the great beyond… but not all goes as planned. Though able to make contact, spirits were crossed, and Liam begins to discover a like of things that he never desired before… like the desire to wear a diaper or cuddle with a stuffy. Freaked out, he searches for answers… only to find himself mixed up under the sway of a lost, saddened, and dispossessed spirt… one who refuses to leave. Will Liam ever regain full control of his body and his own desires, or will the spirit linger on forever until Liam joins them as well in the afterlife? Only time will tell in this tale of the beyond.

As noted, this poll for these stories can be found here: https://strawpoll.com/GeZARpkePyV

Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter!

Chapter 2: Choosing Which Poison Is Best to Swallow

I stare blankly at the screen before me… the words ‘Selection of One Mandatory’ still blinking incessantly in my face, reminding me that no matter what, I need to select one of the following from a category labeled as ‘Medicine Effects at 6 Months.’

‘This can’t be my life, can it?’ I try to rationalize everything but only end up wasting more time waffling back and forth of what to choose. Everything I see before me as devastatingly unappealing to the extreme, and worse, it seems specifically designed to either make me a drooling mess by the end, some sort of incontinent freak, or even… a girl. Having no desire for any of that, my outstretched finger doesn’t budge an inch more toward the screen.

“Warning… warning,” the speaker announces again, its voice still electronic and vibrating against some faulty mechanics inside like it was originally part of whatever this place used to be used for. “Please select one of the options. Compliance with this is mandatory and further delays will not be accepted.”

“I know! I know!” I shout back, not really expecting an answer.

But, despite the warning, I still can’t select anything.

I just… every option looks worse than the last… and per the title of the category, come into effect by six months before a few of them end then and you live with the effects afterward. Others… seem to indicate going on for the entire length of stay here. Calculating it all out, something like the ‘IQ Plummet’ at the loss of 1 point per month isn’t much, but I notice some fine print at the bottom of the option that notes ‘Subject number loss to increase randomly during course of year.’ So, maybe 10 points isn’t devastating, but increase that to even two a month and the results would be devastating.

“Warning! Please make selection!” the speaker blares again.

“I’m working on it, you stupid piece of crap!” I slam the wall with my fist. It doesn’t change anything and the warning lights from the tablet still flash, but I just… I’m getting close to breaking. I feel I’ve handled all this pretty well by now, but…

“Warning! Selection will be chosen for you in the next five minutes if you continue to select nothing,” the speaker warns even more annoyingly than before.

Hearing that… I snap.

I slam the screen. “Fuck you, whoever you are! Do you think this is easy? I mean… for shit’s sake! Look at these things… hip expansion? Penis shrinkage? You can’t be serious!”

“This is a very serious matter, 35-01!” the electronic voice replies quickly.

“That’s not my name!” I slap back. “It’s Jack… or Mr. Thomas. You said it before. I heard you, so at least say that if nothing el…”

“35-01…” the speaker seems to say stubbornly, as if to incense me further. “Please make your selection. Unless further action is taken, an option will be chosen for you. I would highly advise against this.”

“Fuck you!” I slam the screen again, but it’s manufactured too well and only my palms seem to have any effect as they begin to throb from the repeated blows. I wince slightly and look up toward the speaker where I see a small camera.

I glare back at it. “Do you think this whole thing is easy? This is a horrible system! What kind of screwed up person would even think of this shit! How the hell is anyone supposed to choose all this?”

“35-01… there are 19 other candidates in this section,” the speaker informs me. “They are making just the same choices you are now. Most have already made their selections.”

‘Wait… 20 others?’ I look back at the screen and feel my heart sink a little that so many others have complied when I haven’t. Still though… ‘If 19 other people jump off a cliff, there’s no way I would.’ I frown back at the camera and then walk away from the screen, fully defiant and even throwing my hands up in the air. “Who gives a flying crap about them? This is me! My life! I had one and now… I’m here making these stupid choices! Me! Not them!”

There is silence for a moment. “Hardly a life…”

I turn around from my pouting in the corner and blink back at the camera, not entirely sure of what I just heard. “What? What did you say?”

“I repeat… you hardly had a life,” the speaker says once more, this time leaving no doubt as to what the electronic and near unfeeling voice said before. “I see your files, 35-01. No meaningful friends… no meaningful relationships in at least a year. Not even any social clubs or much in the way of a family life. Plus, even giving you some large concessions… no job for a month now. In essence… your life was going nowhere.”

I feel a little of my protest evaporate around me as the speaker lays out the facts of my life. “But I…”

“But you can change that with this program. Once completed, all your needs will be taken care of… monetarily or otherwise,” the speaker points out, seemingly reciting a sales pitch to me about this whole operation. “Essentially, you will be set for life and never have to work again if you stay and agree to this operation here.”

I stay silent but the gears in my head are clicking. Looking at the options, they all seem horrid for someone like me. I’m not a bigot or a sexist or anything like that… but I just have never been interested in becoming feminine in any sort of way. It’s just not me, but… the pros to all this are massive.

“I see you are still struggling with this choice,” the speaker continues. “Please also note that you have debt and several open accounts currently. Per your involvement in this program, each has been frozen. Upon completion however… they will be paid for as well.”

Admittedly, it’s a hard offer to pass up.

“But maybe money means less to you, 35-01. Maybe your duty to country will persuade you to stay…” The speaker clicks for a moment. “The technology to be tested and utilized and studied from you all was discovered or invented recently. Many other countries have it as well and will likely use it against us and cripple entire cities if weaponized.”

It’s an interesting notion, and I wince at the cities bit… but it’s still not enough.

“Very well…” The speaker is usually monotone and unfeeling, but this time, their voice seems more exasperated or resigned. “Due to recent bill signages and executive orders, the rights of those selected in this program have been severely curtailed. Simply put… your only choices now are to flee, resign, or comply.”

The speaker pauses for a moment, almost as if to give their words more meaning or to convey the momentous choice behind their veiled threat. “So, 35-01… what is your choice?”

I feel I’m stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place. On one hand… the options below have no appeal to me whatsoever. They all seem lasting and devastating toward anyone who complies with them. I do notice that several of them give me points and that is appealing as far as they concerned, but the outcomes nearly negate all that as well.

 At the same time though, the speaker just laid everything out very clearly for me. Each piece of their evidence to stay and make a selection of the following choices seems directly catered to me or at least what a correlated and researched paper of convincing someone to do all this would look like. They gave me broad appeal, but for me, the two biggest things were my options of near forced compliance and the evaporation of my debts and any worries about money in the future. That area is still a little gray, but… I have no savings, no job, and almost no possibilities of another job. Even more, the one possibility I had was for an interview, assuming that I was out for a day before I woke up again after being drugged, was for today… which I have now missed.

So, I hate myself wholly for it but not seeing many other options in this economy and with my current life, I turn around and return to the screen and selections in front of me.

“Very good, 35-01…” This time, the speaker seems genuinely satisfied with my choice to return.

But despite my compliance, the options are still hard to choose from. I pause in front of it for a while.

“Is there a problem, 35-01?” the speaker asks me a little bit later after I’ve been staring at the screen and unmoving for at least five minutes now.

“I…” I wince and then look upward at the camera. “Look… I understand what my choices are now. And… I want to comply and choose something, but… I feel like I’m choosing the type of blade for my own execution here.” I sigh heavily. “It’s just… look at the options. All of them have some pretty big or visible drawbacks.”

“Yes,” the speaker confirms. “There are some large side effects of these, and I’m sorry if this makes it even harder, but… you should note that whatever you choose, here or otherwise, will be permanent. Once selected, you can’t unselect it… with one exception.”

I lean forward and look intently at the camera. “And that is?”

“You can only remove something if you replace it with something else,” the speaker says with a crackle. “For example, some of the owners can replace another.”

Owners. The mere thought of someone owning me sends shivers around my body in a second.

“So, please… choose something. The options before you are mandatory,” the speaker reminds me yet again. “Once again… please chose at least one of the following soon.”

I groan out loud, but internally, I’m screaming. I get the whole notion of having to choose something, but I’m still stumped. I feel I’m going in circles. I think of maybe choosing one, but then thick of the full effect in six months. ‘Could I really live with my hips and ass expanding?’

“35-01… I see you still struggling with this notion.” The speaker pauses for a moment. “It is slightly unusual but would you like assistance in your choices here? You don’t have to elect my help… that is your choice, but… you may find it useful.”

I don’t like the notion of the speaker helping me ‘slit my own throat’ in essence, but… I see the flashing lights reminding me that I need to choose and that I need to do it soon. I sigh. “Yeah… maybe a little advice wouldn’t be terrible…”

“Very well.” The speaker mechanism clicks a few times and the screen before me then flashes. “Something to consider with these… a few options are less permanent than others. If you look at the screen, I have highlighted the ones that could very well be reversed after your one year is up… especially considering the government offering you help in these matters if desired.”

‘If desired’ feels a little too haunting for my taste, but I still look over the screen nonetheless to see my options. Like the speaker noted, of the five options, three are highlighted… ‘Extreme Hair Growth,’ ‘Full Incontinence,’ and Hip/Ass Expansion.’ I look back up at the camera. “These are reversible?”

The speaker clicks once more briefly. “To an extent the others aren’t, yes. Once the supplement we give you to induce it is stopped, ‘Extreme Hair Growth’ can be cut and likely return to normal levels. ‘Full Incontinence’ would be tricky, but training provided by the government can assist with regaining your continence and reverse most if not all effects. And Hip/Ass Expansion… that would require surgery but is still possible. The others though… for example, as of right now, we don’t have a way for you to regain lost IQ points.”

I don’t like the uncertainty in each of those ‘reversible’ options, but I’m also being presented with the possibility of reversal… rather than the flat out no return of the others. A term such as ‘likely’ or an act of surgery doesn’t inspire me with much confidence, but it’s still something.

So, wincing heavily, I nearly whine and almost shut my eyes completely… but still… I push one of the options.

“Hmmm… very good, 35-01,” the speaker reverberates after a subtle ding goes off from the screen announcing that I’ve made my decision. “Extreme Hair Growth selected… though, may I ask why?”

I groan, hating to explain myself, but… there’s also a curiosity in the speaker’s voice I can’t quite place. It intrigues me, but also… looking around at the cold and seemingly almost damp jail cell I now find myself in, I know they could be my only interaction for a while.

“I don’t like it, but… it’s one of the reversible ones.” I pause for a second as the speaker clicks a little, almost like the voice behind it wants to say something but elects not to. “But also… of all the choices, I think I can live with the long hair. Maybe kind of a hippy look, you know?”

“An interesting notion, 35-01…” This time, there is no emotion behind their voice.

The screen before me then dings and I look down. In the upper left corner, I see my number, previously a ‘5’ drop down to ‘0.’ It was a drawback of the choosing the hair growth, but it did lose me points. Still, I could live with it… I hope.

But then, I see the number go up again… this time to ‘5.’

‘What the…? I didn’t hit any other button. Is this a glitch?’ I frown and look up at the camera. “What the heck was tha…?”

“Apologies for the delay, 35-01,” the speaker responds rapidly after their pause. “I needed to confirm with my systems of timing, but you have been granted a bonus of five points for completing your task within the first hour. I could not tell you about this bonus before, but now… you have those five extra points to use if you wish.”

“Oh…” It’s the first bit of good news without a true caveat that I’ve heard since before I passed out when I heard about the job interview… now passing me by and cancelled. “Thank you…”

“Thank you for not dragging your feet more,” the speaker notes. “I know this all will be a challenge, but your timeliness is appreciated.” The sound then pauses briefly. “I should also note however, that before, your points dropped to zero. This is acceptable, but your points can never remain a negative number if you overspend. You can quickly elect other items to regain a positive cumulative status but be warned… if you refuse or remain negative for too long, I will elect something for you.”

I swallow hard at the implication… especially seeing that most of the ways to gain points are drastic, permanent, or really too embarrassing to keep up with for a year. “Noted… thanks…”

The speaker crackles for a moment but then comes to life once more as the screen switches again. “Now… you have chosen your mandatory effect in the six months but now comes to the other aspects of your new life for the next year. Next on the list is your clothing and your owner or caregiver.”

I feel my guts constrict over the word ‘owner.’ “I have to choose both? As in… another mandatory selection?”

“Yes, 35-01…” the speaker horrifically confirms. “The clothing you are currently wearing is a polymer of sorts that is time delayed to completely dissolve in the next hour. Despite some of the… oddities of this operation, nudity and nakedness as a permanent state are not allowed. We briefly considered offering a burlap sack as a neutral zero-point option… but this was voted down.”

“And the…” I swallow hard again, the wording getting caught in my throat. “The owner?”

“Yes again, 35-01,” the speaker confirms once more. “Essentially, I am a simple construct… really only to be used to monitor your progress and ensure your compliance with the numbering system. It is noted from past operations like these that some candidates have elected to name me, but…”

“Name you?” I question quickly.

“Yes, 35-01. Due to my programming, I can only respond in a limited way, but I have also been programmed with an AI learning system. I can adapt as requested within the given parameters of my coding. For example, your name… once you have selected your mandatory options, I may call you by your requested name,” the speaker explains. “Similarly, if you wish, you can give me a name to make things easier…”

“Oh…” One year living in a jail cell and without much other noted human contact… it all starts to hit me about the factors I hadn’t even considered. Yes, something like full incontinence or penis shrinkage isn’t great, but I realize something that could really hurt me now is the isolation. I feel a heat from above… almost like the lamps in here are acting like a second sun… ‘I wonder if they are sun lamps… give me vitamin D or whatnot… but companionship…’

I look back to the unfeeling speaker. “I see… but owner?”

“Yes, 35-01. As I was saying… I am programming and not even the most complex either. I am more advanced, but not to the point of another sentient form of life. Monitoring you, your progress, and your mental health will be the job of your selected owner. Each also comes with some rather heavy drawbacks, but at least one is needed.” The speaker’s voice is monotone, and maybe it’s my imagination, but I almost hear a twinge of doubt or apprehension in that last part.

“Oh…” I blink at the screen in front of me, seeing my once again unfavorable options.

“35-01…” the speaker starts again. “I am required to inform you that you should also consider your amenities as well. If you look around, what you have is it regarding your food, sanitation, and comfort for the next year unless you choose it from the menu before you. Please note… seeing an option with lot of points may be unappealing more often than not, but the flipside is that you may be able to get some source under the ‘Luxuries’ category.”

I look away from the screen temporarily and see my set-up potentially for the next year. A quick press into the bed and I know it’s going to be pretty uncomfortable. There’s a bucket labeled ‘Wash’ in the corner… sadly and presumably my shower beyond the sink. And lastly, the toilet… cold, unfeeling, stiff. It all works functionally, but a year of it all… it’s a crushing weight that I feel dig into my entire being.

Wincing at the notion, I look back to the screen. As I see my options, I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that I would rather be anywhere else other than here right now… but again, I know my options otherwise. Opt out and forfeit all the money and benefits of this place and go right back to where I was… alone, jobless, debts incurring, and as the speaker noted, no life to speak of.

Or… the other option would be to escape somehow…

I look behind me at the door I came from… now quite sealed. Seeing that as definitely not an option, I look at the jail cell bars in front of me. I even reach out and give them a good shake. Sturdy, unflinching, firm in every way that really counts…

“35-01… I wouldn’t advise it, but if you wish to escape, I can’t stop you…” the speaker says in a way that almost makes me hear a hint of sadness… despite purely just being a machine. “The cell door will remain locked otherwise, but if you request it… I can let you go.”

“No tricks?” I question curiously.

“No tricks, 35-01,” the speaker confirms… soon followed by an audible ‘click.’ “It is open now. Go out, turn left… not right, then open the door, and go up the stairs. You will see the perimeter in the distance and from there, good luck.”

I put my hand where the handle is to exit out but then stop cold.

I remember to what the masked man told me earlier… and what I saw before I came down here. I’m in the middle of the desert. Nothing around for maybe a few miles at least, except for the one thing I could see… the glinting watchtower. Per the masked man, they had big guns and orders to shoot on sight. Now, also seeing what he likely referred to as penalties, a reduction of my points… I know that if I survive, I would be guaranteed to be back here and subject to who knows what to make up the points.

With a deep sigh, I withdraw my hand.

“That’s a good move, 35-01,” the speaker tells me from above. “I will lock the door now, but again… if you do change your mind whenever and for whatever reason, please just let me know.”

I stare up at the camera and nod my head. “Yeah… I’ll keep that in mind.” I then hear the ‘click’ of the door once more… locking me in tightly in my literal prison.

But as I stare back at the screen, my options are still pretty lousy. I pace around the room trying to decide the next bit of my dreaded fate. I made it past the life-altering options, but seeing what’s next, I can’t help but groan again as I feel my stomach twist itself into a knot.

“Warning… warning…” the speaker blares yet again today. “You have 15 minutes to decide your next option or risk forfeiture and a selection will be made for you.”

“What?” I hurdle myself back over to the screen and angrily look up to the camera. “There’s another time limit? Why the hell didn’t you tell me this time?”

“Please be advised, 35-01… all choices in this preliminary stage are under a time limit,” the speaker explains. “The government experimented before with not placing so many time limits at this stage, but then found many candidates found a loophole in the process and simply waited as long as they could to delay their outcome.” The speaker pauses for a moment. “For future mandatory options, you will be given approximately 30 minutes to choose or risk forfeiture. This will also include totals equating in the negative amount.”

“Fuck…” It’s simple and crude, but it’s about all I can say to express my feelings over this new wrinkle to my fate. I look at the cell door again, it almost waiting there like a tempting lure to draw me out and punish me or make me opt out, but I turn away quickly.

I can’t give up that easy…

So, I scroll through the options. This round, the options are more extensive but seeing the ‘Owners/Caregivers’ section as the hardest to get through, I try and buy myself time by selecting the ‘Clothing’ section first. Unfortunately, the options paint a pretty vivid picture of the possible outcomes of this place… and they fill me with a huge sense of dread.

I look up at the camera. “Are you kidding me? Diapers? Latex outfit? Locking collars? What the hell is all this? Are you trying to explore sexual deviancy or something? What are you trying to do here?”

I hear a few clicks coming from the speaker at first. “These are merely the options we wish to present to you. For some of the owners or caregivers, they have their own specific needs to be met. Sometimes these require certain elements… sometimes certain addendums. For example, not owner-based, but if you had chosen the ‘Full Incontinence’ option, diapers might be advisable… hence the net-zero number of points associated with them.”

I stare back at the screen and put the different elements together. It doesn’t paint a very nice picture of my upcoming time here. “Crap… I don’t have a choice… again, but… do you… I don’t know… I guess, uh… do you have any suggestions here?”

The speaker takes a minute to sound off again, but like before, I see several items highlighted… most fill me with dread. “Yes, these are the items I would suggest, 35-01. Some may seem a little extreme, but I have weighed the good and bad with each along with their comfort level and items you could pair together.”

The screen then zooms in to a few specific items. “For example… the latex outfit gains you points, but they are minimal, and the outfit would be incredibly uncomfortable for long periods of time. You could wear diapers and simply not use them as well… but you seemed opposed from the start to select that option.”

“Yes,” I confirm quickly.

“Very well…” the screen then backs away from the image of the diapers and highlights three other items. “Given your personnel preference, number of points, and your strong objections to certain options, I have highlighted the following: cheer outfit, garter panties, and a plain t-shirt.”

I wait for more, but it’s only silence… at which point my emotions get the better of me. “Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell kind of option is that? A cheer outfit and garter panties? Hell no!”

The screen blinks again. “35-01… please remain calm. These options were selected due to their minimalistic appearance and combination with each other while considering your lack of points. So, you are aware… you could combine only the skirt of the cheer outfit with the white t-shirt. You would still result in a cumulative negative amount, but it would be something… minimal.”

I look at the excruciatingly humiliating red lacy garter panties and the red cheer outfit… complete with an acronym of some supposedly random high school. “You call that minimal?”

The screen just keeps blinking. “Yes, 35-01. It may seem extreme to you, but as an example of something else… boxers would lose you 25 points, and you would still be without an outfit. I will follow whatever you confirm, but from the limited knowledge I have of your preferences right now and what you can tolerate… I would suggest these three items. Do you comply?”

I storm off, but with the jail cell so small… I really can’t go far, and it brings me right back to the blinking screen and the flashing warning light of my pending time counting down for this.

I know I have no choice.

“Shit…” I walk back over and select the three options the speaker suggested… the red garter panties, the white t-shirt, and the cheerleading outfit. I hate myself and this whole thing… but again, my options are limited.

“Warning… point accumulation will result in a net negative amount… do you wish to proceed?” the speaker clinically asks as if they weren’t just the one suggesting the items in the first place.

I shake my head and groan but look back at the screen and see the large button labeled ‘Comply.’ I don’t want to, but my other options suck just as much or even more at this point. “Damn it…”

I hit the button.

“Thank you for your compliance, 35-01.” Nothing happens at first after, but soon, my counter clicks down from ‘5’ to a ‘-13.’ Not a second later, the whole room blares out with what only can amount to an air raid siren.

I quickly cover my ears. “What the hell is that?”

“Warning… net negative points achieved,” the speaker notes neutrally. “Please select an option or options to rectify this imbalance with your points. Failure to do so will result in a punishment, a further loss of points, or a likely choosing at random from other options to make up the difference. This is strongly advised to avoid.”

“Screw you!” I begin to panic as I look at the screen. This time, the small little timer at the top corner of the screen flashes and only reads as five minutes long.

I quickly look through the other options. Each is more undesirable than the last… but then I remember the other mandatory item…

The ‘Owner/Caregiver’ section.

I’ve honestly been dreading it more than all the other sections. Yes, the six-month items were horrible, but they were private. I would endure a hellish state here, but it would be alone with just the mechanical voice behind the speaker watching on. That might have been delusional, given the government involvement in this ‘operation,’ but it was something. Now, I could only look at the other mandatory options with dread as I would be willingly allowing another person to come into this horrible situation to ‘care for me.’

Looking at the options though, as fast as I had to, it is immediately apparent that ‘care’ here is all relative.

One comes with a warning, so I quickly pass her. Another warns of potential long-term effects, and the third lists potential injuries as a likely side effect. Given all that, I choose the one with her only warning as ‘humiliation’ likely. I don’t like that one bit, and her total won’t give me all the points I need, but critically, I see that she could give me a possible reward if I was compliant with her and her ‘assistants.’

I don’t know what ‘assistants’ could mean, but it feels clinical and some of her description almost makes her seem like a teacher of sorts. So, given the potential, I elect ‘Ms. Hernandez’ as fast as I can to be my primary owner and caregiver. This time, I don’t even wait for the speaker to tell me to confirm.

I hit the button right away.

“Congratulations, 35-01… you have selected Ms. Hernandez to be your owner and caregiver. She, and others like her in this operation, is definitely the most popular option, but…” The speaker pauses for a moment. “Unfortunately, you still have another option to make in order to get you at or above zero points.”

I look down at my counter and it reads as only ‘-3’ still. “I figured…”

I look at the screen for a while, something that feels like a lot longer than the refreshed five minutes to comply, but right then… the speaker announces itself once more and does something more than a little shocking. “35-01… I don’t wish to rush you to this decision, but I might suggest something that will net you positive points. Right now, you need something more than many of the small options, which would only give you two points at best. So, of the options you can choose that will actually get you over the hump… may I make a suggestion?”

I don’t like what I am left with after the last few suggestions… but they were options, and rationally parsed out, I couldn’t deny now that they were the least objectionable of the bunch. “Fine… what do you have for me this time?” I could hear the exasperation in my own voice.

The speaker doesn’t comment on that though. “35-01… it has come to my attention that you have selected Ms. Hernandez. She specializes in several fields of study, but one is pain and humiliation… specifically related to sexual studies. I know, given your filed out questions previously, that you will likely dislike this option… but I would suggest a chastity cage at this juncture.”

“What?” I could feel the flames of rage bubbling inside of me like a volcano ready to blow. I want to squeeze the life out of the speaker… but only find cables and a blank-faced camera staring right back at me. “You call that an option? I may be more vanilla than some, but I know what that crap is! Why the hell would you suggest something like that for me? That’s not a compromise… that’s a prison sentence!”

“35-01… please calm down,” the speaker says, unsuccessfully trying to calm me down over this latest insult. “You need something non-permanent and that is 3 points or over. For the options left to you… that doesn’t leave a lot...” The speaker pauses and the screen before me switches to showing my options. Sadly, they are right.

“As you can see here, I have highlighted some of you other options…” Page by page, the speaker electronically flips through what I could choose. “Eye shadow… baby food… weekly cam session…” The speaker drones on and on.

I can’t stand to hear anymore.

“Enough! You made your point, damn it!” I look at the now highlighted chastity cage once more. “I just… fuck. How long do I have to wear this thing for?”

The speaker clicks a few times. “It’s hard to say really. This is one of those options that may be removed at a later date in service of something else… also, with Ms. Hernandez and some of the other owners, they may grant you… release.” The speaker doesn’t elaborate but I can read between the lines.

The screen flashes before me again. I have about one minute remaining now before my choice would be made for me. It wouldn’t really be a choice at that point, or even now for that matter, but I know I don’t want my fate to be left up to chance. “Shit… the cage… the cage!” I growl at the prospect of accepting something so terrible, but one thought, or something very like it, keeps popping in my head. ‘What the cage compared to something like baby food or putting on makeup every day?’

“Confirmed,” the robot voice says clinically once more. “Adjusting points…”

I look down and saw the ‘-3’ begin to tick up, finally landing on a final ‘2.’ It isn’t much, but my relief is like a weight being lifted off my chance once the flashing warning lights go away to show me that I was in the negatives. I hate all this and my very being, but… I made my choice.

“Excellent… now, please wait while the items are being processed and brought to you…” the speaker informs me with a note of finality. And, as if to emphasize that even more, the screen before me then shuts off… and I am left virtually all alone.

Alone with my thoughts and no longer being harassed by a ticking clock or the need to balance my points or choose something terrible… I could feel it all begin to collapse on me. I look for anything to vent to or get my frustration out on.

Being so stark of a room though, my options are once again limited. It’s all starting to feel like a recurring theme… but like the other times, I view the two most likely options before me. Below me is the bed… hard, springy, and about my only means of sleep around here unless I elect the floor. The other option, the pillow, seems like my one true luxury here, and I don’t want to touch that.

Until I beat down on the mattress.

The coils, being a little too thick, spring back with their full force directly into my fist. It’s better than hitting the wall, but it still reveals just how bad a bed it is. I’m not looking forward to my first night’s sleep here… but I also know I can’t hit it again… so I go for the pillow.

“Lousy, piece of crap! Stupid… mother… cracking… horse shit… of… a… place! Stupid… go-vern-ment!” With each phrase or word or even syllable, I vent out and pummel my pillow. Soon, a divot forms in the center where I have been hitting it for the past few minutes.

“35-01… I’m sorry to interrupt…” the speaker announces a few minutes later, “but your selected items are here. I don’t know if you noticed, but your uniform is already dissolving…”

I look down, and sure enough, the clothing I had been wearing, even from their previous distress and grungy state, is now showing signs of wear. Further, some patches have begun to form and have started to reveal the threads composing the garment. “Well, shit…”

A quick hiss and a small panel in the wall near to the jail cell door and on the other side of my sink, opens up. In seconds, first, my clothing and other… items are passed along.

“Please disrobe and get dressed at once, 35-01…” the speaker instructs me.

I have no choice in the matter, in fear of penalties, so I get undressed… painfully aware of the camera eyeing me every move. Feeling it all awkward… and more than a little curious, I strike up a conversation. “So… voice behind the speaker, you said when I had chosen all my points, you could be released from your initial programming, and you could start learning.”

“Yes, 35-01,” the speaker confirms.

“Okay… well, then…” I stare back at the camera as I hike up my new red garter panties. I cringe at the feeling and the look reflected off the metal toilet in front of me. “How about you call me by my name. Jack or Mr. Thomas like you did before. Can you do that?”

The speaker clicks for a second. “Yes… Jack. I can do that.”

“Good… now how about a name for you?” I inquire, remembering that piece of information as well.

“Yes, Jack…” the speaker confirms again. “You can name me. Just… keep it appropriate. Lewd names or nicknames will not be tolerated and will be either reported to your owner or caregiver, or points will be deducted from your total.”

“Got it…” I muse for a second as I remove the skirt portion only from the cheerleading costume… a note saying that the chastity cage will come later with Ms. Hernandez to explain it properly. I don’t like that, but I know I need to focus on the present and not the future. Otherwise, I know I might just lose it for sure in here. “How about… Sam?”

“Sam…” the speaker muses for a moment. “I can be okay with Sam.”

“Good, Sam…” I stand up before the camera and turn around to show off my new outfit after sliding on the expensive white t-shirt. “All look okay?”

“Very adequate, Jack. I assume you saw the note?” Sam questions to me.

“Yes… I did,” I confirm. “Can’t say I’m looking forward to that…”

“I don’t blame you, but… she is a professional.” I still wonder what that means but I let Sam continue. “She will make sure you know how to clean it and how the situation will work. If you know what it means… she will be your keyholder.”

“Oh…” I’m not vanilla per say, but my exposure to things outside the norm had been limited. The term ‘keyholder’ isn’t something I am completely familiar with, but I also know enough not to like what Sam is implying.

“Yes, now…” Another hiss pops up and a bottle shoves through this time. “This is your new shampoo and body wash. Due to the option you have selected, this will ensure the rapid growth of your hair. You may elect to have it cut but also know that doing so may allow others to dye it or shave it in strange ways… so be advised.”

I remove the shampoo from the try and look at it closely. It’s pretty generic, but there is large and bold lettering that marks it clearly to be used for ‘Extreme Hair Growth.’ Without any other caveats, another worry soon enters my mind.

“It only works on your head, Jack,” Sam confirms as if he could read my mind. “It’s specially formulated that way, so don’t worry about your chest hair growing at a rapid pace. In fact…”

Sam doesn’t get to finish though as another hiss is heard, and when I look down, I nearly want to vomit.

“Oh… a little early today. Jack… this is your food at this time…” Sam verifies.

I look down and my gag reflex reasserts itself. The food on the platter in front of me is very simple. An empty cup for water, presumably from the sink, a stale piece of wheat bread… and a stew, but it’s the stew that is so bad. Frankly, it looks like the remnants of someone’s bowels. The steam and bubbling from the thick and gooey brown mixture doesn’t help either.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” I say out loud, not even thinking that Sam is still listening at this point.

“This is your current selection, Jack. You may elect other options, but… please note that this is at least hardy. Strained peas or pureed chicken looks just as goopy, but this is at least soup. It’s not much,” Sam admits, “but it’s something more… adult.”

I agree with him, but as I look down and even smell the mixture… earth mud is pretty accurate, and frankly, just about as appealing.

“Now… enjoy your meal, Jack. I will be here if you need me for any emergencies, point distributions, maintenance issues, escape, or specifications of your contract of service here. Also, Ms. Hernandez will be here in three days per the new schedule of yourself and the other candidates here. Some coordination is required to ensure that she comes here as required, but until then…” Sam clicks a few more times from the speaker. “Goodbye…”

This time, I doubt that ‘Sam’ will be back today at all. For once, I am truly left alone… at least from what I can see. I have to put all that ‘government is always watching’ business out of my head and just focus on lasting here for a year. Right now, particularly with my clothing and my current food selections... that seems nearly impossible, but I know one thing that will make me feel better.

I set my soup aside, go over to my bed, grab my pillow by both ends, take a breath, and then plunge my head right into the center… before screaming as loudly as I can. It’s just the first day, and I already want to leave. ‘Not good at all… fuck…’

[LostBBoyBear]

Hey everyone!

Okay… so maybe not my most popular story by a long shot so far, but maybe this one will be a late bloomer or just be a story that only a handful of you will enjoy. Regardless, as I always say now, I don’t write these stories for the likes or views and will continue it to the end. That being said, any engagement with my stories or the polls is always nice to see, so, for those of you that have already, thank you very much.

Now, speaking of the poll… just as a reminder, a new one 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.

Also, with my new polling system, and apologies for not reminding everyone of it before, but for this poll, you can vote for two options. I find this helps narrow down the top stories even better. You can still only vote for one if you wish, but I know sometimes with these things that it’s really hard to do that. Either way, I just want you all to know that you have the option (including if you simply message me as well).

Next, this is going to be one of the relatively shorter chapters in this story in all likelihood. Therefore, I should note somewhere here that I’ve laid everything out precisely, but if I lengthened some chapters to be more even or lengthy, the flow would change, and I don’t think I would have liked where this chapter would have stopped next. It would have made the next chapter incredibly weak personally and this chapter would have been entirely too long. Granted, the shorter chapters will probably happen more at the start of this story when there are few named characters and only so much plot to munch through, but I think each should still be enjoyable.

Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter of my story!

Chapter 3: I’m Ms. Hernandez, and This, Girls… Is Your Entertainment

‘Three days in…’ I find it hard to reconcile with that fact, but I know I need to make it a week here at least. After that, it’s no picnic, but I’ve found with so many things in my life that you need to get over the obstacles and begin to view them as milestones. The first day… the first week… the first month… If one can do that often enough, they make it to the end.

Right now, I made it past the first day… so now, it’s making it through a week.

Passing the time though has been the real struggle. Don’t get me wrong, wearing red lacy panties and a skirt isn’t great. The food is terrible, and the bed is worse… but they are livable, and frankly, I think that’s the point. This program doesn’t seem to want to kill me… just force my hand in the humiliation of myself in front of the camera that always seems to be watching me. It took me until late last night to start to ignore it, but I managed to stop thinking about it and get some sleep. The first night… I think I was just too exhausted and emotionally spent to care.

Now that I’ve gotten over those barriers though, like I was saying, the next hurdle is boredom.

There are 24 hours a day and I’m stuck in a jail cell with nothing to do. At first, I tried to sleep more, but in a cell with the forced bright lights over head for 16 hours of the day… that becomes very difficult. I then tried to come up with stories to pass the time… but shame on me I guess, I drifted into fantasies of mine to distract my mind. Unfortunately, Sam stopped me right away when I started to get… handsy.

“No, no, no… Sorry, Jack, but you chose the chastity cage,” Sam reminds me, the mechanical voice behind the speaker no less annoying now than it was the first day. “You may not have it on right now, but you need to act as if you do. Otherwise, Ms. Hernandez will be very upset with you and on your first day no less… and trust me or not but that’s not something you want to have going for you in here…”

“Yeah, yeah…” I say like I have the past three times he’s caught me as well. I really hate that I chose that option. I’m not some kind of deviant or sex addict, but the boredom… it really bites into things. If I could just have one thing back, it would be easier… but I don’t.

So, I look for other ways to bide my time.

One that I found helps but also hurts me is looking into the screen for future point options. I don’t like what I see there, but it allows me two things. First, I get to see what I would be up against and now that there isn’t a time limit enforced, I can rationally see what I am willing to give up, in terms of points, pain, or humiliation. For example, baby toys are free, but their addition in my life won’t help things and end up just adding to my humiliation. I would be sacrificing my own mental image of myself and my pride in exchange for nothing.

So, I don’t choose them.

Second advantage of looking at the screen though, is that I am able to ask questions to Sam. Sam is still the machine-controlled robotic voice behind decades-old speakers, but it’s also another voice and a way to pass the time. Instead of droning on inside my own mind or talking to myself, I am at least talking to an entity of sorts. Plain language, no emotion, and very direct and uncaring, but something other than myself. For me, it’s something beyond the regular routine.

But seeing all the options, it makes me curious about one thing… starting points.

“Sam… this is an experiment of sorts,” I note a little later. “Messed up and more than a little strange, but I think I can see that for myself by now. Just to be sure though… is that guess right?”

“That is correct, Jack,” Sam notes back to me dryly.

I sigh at the confirmation and then look back at the screen… particularly at the options that would take something like 60 points to obtain. “Uh… did other candidates choose any of the luxuries… or something like boxers?”

The speaker clicks a few times. “Yes…”

I feel a sinking sensation in my stomach. “So… they took a bunch of negatives as well?” I ask hesitantly, thinking I sadly know the answer to that question already.

Again, more clicks. “Not all…”

My stomach truly sinks, and I feel nauseous for a second. I know I shouldn’t ask… it wouldn’t do me any good at this point, but there’s also a curiosity in me of this whole screwed up thing that I just can’t scratch… but that answer might. “Sam… I’m trying to put everything together here. So, help me out, but if not everyone took a massive number of negatives yet were still able to afford some of the pricier luxuries…” I pause, wincing over the thought of even asking the next bit.

“Go on…” Sam presses lightly.

I crack my knuckles in an attempt to alleviate the conflict swarming inside my own head now. “Well, experiments take variables. If we are all subjected to the same kinds of punishments, owners, luxuries… all that, I’m not seeing the change right away. But uh…” I pause for a moment, knowing I could stop now.

But I don’t.

“Well… I kind of started off with five points, and if this is an experiment…” I sigh deeply. “The variable… including me, you said there were 20 candidates… did we start off with different pre-assigned initial points?”

There’s no response for at least a minute. “Yes… I’m sorry, Jack. Someone needed to be on the bottom, and… in this case, it was chosen to be you.” Another pause. “If it helps, it was decided randomly.”

“It doesn’t, but… thanks for the effort,” I reply meekly, slumping onto my bed in defeat. I look around my little jail cell and at the bucket I use to wash myself. Somewhere else, for all I know, the person with 100 points could be luxuriating in a mansion… and still have 30 points leftover afterward. ‘Fuck this place…’

“Jack… you might want to prepare for Ms. Hernandez,” Sam informs me plainly not long after.

I turn toward the camera. “And what do you think I’m doing now?” I hold up the brush in my hand and then point to my hair… now about three inches total in length. Preferring to keep it at about one inch, even after only a few days of using the hair growth product, I hate it severely and desperately want to get a haircut already.

“I see that Jack, but… I suggest you wash a little more thoroughly. Ms. Hernandez is a little… ‘picky’ when it comes to those under her ownership and care,” Sam warns me. “I also would suggest that you wear the full cheerleading outfit…”

“What?” I look down at my current cheerleading skirt and white t-shirt combo. “I thought this was acceptable!”

“It is, Jack,” Sam confirms, “but…” He pauses for a moment. “Look… I know all this is difficult, but… may I make another suggestion for the future?”

Once again, I feel a little nauseated at those words. The last times they were uttered by Sam was when it was suggested that I elect the chastity cage… or wear the lacy red panties I’m now sporting. Still… I’m also reminded by the fact that despite their outward appearance, they were selected in lieu of much worse options. So far, Sam’s suggestions are iffy at best but also have been keeping me away from the truly terrible.

I sigh. “Go on…”

“Jack… in the next year, you should view your owners and caregivers as something akin to a transaction. It’s a little crude but think of their attitude and treatment as how much is being given or taken by you,” Sam explains. “See, the more you give, the more niceties that your owner or caregiver will give you. You take away or don’t give anything, it goes the opposite, and they will be forced to respond in kind with taking something you enjoy away from you… or giving you something worse.”

I don’t like the sound of it at all, but I feel I need to be prepared as well. “Such as?”

“I can’t go into specific details, Jack. I’m sorry about that,” Sam apologizes. “But just know that the further you lean into their preferences beforehand and demands once they are here, the easier your time will be.”

I feel Sam is trying to protect me or guard against some arbitrary knowledge that I’m not supposed to know yet. Either way though, I want to know more. “Meaning?”

“Meaning that if they have something in their requirements or descriptions, it’s better to comply with them and maybe even take the initiative,” Sam explains. “So, I’m suggesting you wash a little more thoroughly before they… ‘she’ gets here.”

I notice Sam’s error, but I don’t comment on it. According to Sam, I will have just enough time to wash, dry off, and then get redressed before they get here. Gratefully, having selected my clothing, I don’t just get one outfit of it. If it ever gets messy, I can always exchange it free of charge for a new one. Again, it’s a small concession in my new life.

But like with most things, I get leniency there, but not in other aspects. “Scrub harder between your thighs… and your testicles, Jack. They should nearly sparkle in her presence.”

I groan, and once more put out of my mind that something is watching me completely in the nude. Still, I know time is of the essence, so I push on and continue to scrub hard in all the suggested places in the corner of the room over the drain located there. The floor slightly slopes in, and if I’m careful, nothing else gets wet. Another small concession for sure, but towels are free as well. Scratchy and rough, but free.

So, I manage to clean myself up… at least to the point where Sam isn’t commenting any further. Taking the provided outfit from the slot where they first came in, I grab the new set of panties and cheer uniform. My white T-shirt is still draped over the bed, but I don’t even touch it this time. Apparently, for Ms. Hernandez, humiliation seems to be the key. Looking at myself in the mirror, the red cheerleading uniform blazing against the gray and cold stone walls… I feel I’ve definitely achieved that.

“Socks and shoes as well, Jack,” Sam notes, inspecting me one last time.

“Right…” I sit on the bed and put on my flimsy socks and what amounts to a pair of crocs. Both are free, but are also ugly, rough, or clunky. Asking Sam previously, other shoes and socks can only be obtained through one’s owner or caregiver.

Pushing on for what feels like the hundredth time today though, I just manage to stand when I hear a crunch and then a slamming of some kind from outside my jail cell. Having never been out of this cell in that direction before, I’m not entirely sure what’s out there beyond the meager description that Sam gave when I was first contemplating escape.

“Okay… he’s i… here. G… ait… us to c… ember… nny business wh… one.” I hear it all distantly. I can’t hear everything, but it sounds like a forceful woman has just entered and is talking to herself… maybe someone else. ‘Maybe she’s talking onto a radio? Maybe she has to confirm she also came here today?’ I shrug, but at the same time, I also swear I hear the sound of several other footsteps as well.

I don’t have time to think very long about it though. Soon, a beautiful Latin woman come into my view. Tall, long dark hair with some highlights near the tips, curvy, and definitely confident and professionally dressed. Before I can say a word though, she holds up one of her manicured fingers to me. “No speaking, and no funny business. This door unlocks and you follow me. No questions, understand?”

I’m caught off guard by her abrupt and forceful nature couple along with her beauty, but I nod. “Yes… I understand.”

She almost looks like she is waiting for me to say something more, but then only twirls her fingers at a corner of the room. Considering the one in my own cell, I’m pretty sure it’s a camera, which is also nearly confirmed when the cell door of my room clicks like it did yesterday when Sam unlocked it.

Taking her one pointer finger again, she beckons me forward.

Swallowing dryly at all the unknowns that I’m about to partake in, I remain quiet and complicit in stepping forward.

“Good,” she notes with a slight smile on her face. “No complaints. That’s a good sign. Now, follow me and don’t say a word unless I give you permission to do so or I ask you question. Only nod if you understand.”

I nod.

Another smile follows, continued by her finger gesturing me forward once again as well. Her heels clacking, she then leads me down to the right and then beyond other doors, this time, each of them is labeled very specifically, and I notice a pattern right away. Each has my designated number, ’35-01’ emblazoned first, and then always followed by one or two letters, like ‘NR’ or ‘SR.’ I’m not sure what they all are, but finally coming to the second to last room, we stop before the woman jiggles with the handle.

Once the door opens, she then gets behind me and pushes me forward.

The bright light inside blinds me at first, but there right in front of me are about 30 college-aged girls. It then clicks in my mind… the talking and the footsteps I heard earlier… now all of that is before me. All young, eager, and seemingly on the edge of their seats as they see me. A few of them even squeal at the sight of me. Most of them though, look at me like a wolf to a fresh lamb chop. ‘Shit…’

Entiering the room, the tall and beautiful woman smiles at their reactions and then turns to face me directly. “I’m Ms. Hernandez,” she informs me, gesturing to herself before turning to the girls behind her. “And this, girls… is your entertainment.”

I swallow hard again in fear. I feel I’ve made a terrible mistake choosing Ms. Hernandez… and her class.

The girls… women stare back at me with judgmental and amused looks. I’m not sure which I find worse, but it’s not long before several of them are whispering to themselves. Ms. Hernandez notices but does nothing. In fact, she almost looks as if she is pleased… as if this is part of why she and all of them are here in the first place, something that only seems to grow when several produce their own personal iPad and appear to be taking notes based on their observations of me.

It doesn’t leave me with a very pleasant feeling…

After I feel like the proverbial bug under the microscope for the better part of few minutes, one of them finally speaks out loud instead of whispering. “Are they a girl?”

“No, of course not!” another defends to my temporarily relief. “Must be early trans!”

I sputter a few times at the notion. “I… I’m not trans! I support them and I have friends who are trans but I… I’m not trans!”

“Hmph!” one of the haughtier women scoffs as she crosses her arms. “Could’ve fooled me. Hair growing out… dress… probably even wearing panties underneath.

My feelings betray me, and I blush involuntarily.

“Oh my god! He is!” she shrieks pointing towards my crotch and the albeit hidden panties underneath.

“Girls, girls,” Ms. Hernandez announces, finally stepping into the midst of everyone. “This is Jack and he…”

“More like Jackie!” the previous scoffing girl yells out, eliciting a laughter from several of the others, resulting in an even deeper blush.

Before I can correct them, Ms. Hernandez shockingly and gratefully does it for me. “Tiffany… I did warn you to behave yourself. While we are here, you may laugh at and humiliate Jack using several methods at your disposal. However…” She pauses and glares at the young woman. “You will still respect my authority here, in the classroom, and when we travel here. There is no exception to that rule… understood?”

Tiffany glares at me and almost looks like she’ll talk back to Ms. Hernandez, but I also see a few of her classmates shake their heads worriedly. It’s an interesting notion of Ms. Hernandez’s supreme authority, and my curiosity only grows when Tiffany stands down, going so far as to even take a step back. “Yes. Sorry…”

Like she did with me earlier, Ms. Hernandez looks as if she is expecting something more. Like me also though, when Tiffany doesn’t say anything more, the domineering Latin woman turns back to the rest of the class and me. “Now then… as I was saying, this is Jack. Jack… this is my class of students at the local university. They are all studying various subjects, but as part of an extra credit course, they have volunteered their time here to be with me, you, and several of the other candidates. And if you were wondering, yes, they have all signed NDA’s.”

I wasn’t even thinking about that, but it is nice to keep in the back of my head with whatever happens next. With the way some of them are looking at me… especially Tiffany, I get a bit of a queasy feeling already.

“Looking ahead, these girls can choose to stop by anytime of the week with and watch you as you progress through this program,” she explains. “Also, you should know that the more options they convince you to choose over time… the more extra credit they will get in this extra set of curricula. For now, they will be working under my direct supervision and will select your tasks for the day, but if they prove themselves… I might leave you alone with them more often. Understand?”

I wonder about the tasks mentioned briefly, but I wordlessly nod my head.

From her expression though, I already know it isn’t enough. “About that, Jack… little thing, but from now on, you are to address me as Ms. Hernandez, Miss, or Ma’am. Understand?” she asks with a clear sense of authority and domination over me.

“Yes, Ms. Hernandez!” I quickly pop back, eliciting several giggles from the class around us.

“Very good.” She walks in front of her class and switches on a nearby screen. It’s very similar to the one in my jail cell except about four times as large. Almost instantly, the choices I have already chosen then appear and show up on the screen.

The laughter that follows occurs almost immediately.

Ms. Hernandez lets them have their fun, but after about a minute, she raises her hands and seemingly pats the air down to quiet them. “Settle… settle. Very good. Now class… as you can see, Jack has already elected several options.”

The class stares in wonder and amusement at the options I chose. As each of them spots a new item, they turn back to me, and I blush horrendously under their judgmental and amused gaze. It isn’t long before the whispers begin… and not long after that the outright peals of laughter and joking start as well.

“Look at that! He chose chastity!” one points out.

“I know! I saw!” another confirms.

“I bet he wants to cum so bad!” one from the rear yells.

“Betcha’ he’s wearing it now!” another taunts, quickly adjusting her gaze right toward my crotch.

Another one is even bolder and actually points to my skirt. “Lift it up, sweetie! Let me see what you’ve got on underneath!”

This time, I don’t even look to Ms. Hernandez as the advice that Sam gave me earlier comes back into my mind… ‘comply with what they tell me.’ I don’t like it, but it’s day three and ‘punishment’ has been threatened more than once. Sam implied that notion as well. So, I swallow my pride and lift my cheerleading skirt.

The howls of laughter increase at least tenfold.

I notice a few look judgmental, but there’s a small portion that actually seem horrified or even concerned. I’m curious about them, but the lewd comments thrown at me quickly knock any semblance of thoughts from my head.

“Look at the panties!” one jeers. “They’re nicer than mine!”

“Ooh! We got a hot mama working here!” another jokes.

“Wait…” One pauses and hushes the crowd quickly… the same that asked for proof of the cage earlier. “I just see panties. I want to see the cage… show us the cage, sweetie!” She begins to chant and several of the group join in with her.

This time, Ms. Hernandez steps forward and calms them down. “Well… actually, today is just the beginning, and a requested panty reveal is all that you girls can ask for today.” She then faces me. “However, Jack… that should give you a taste of what is to come tomorrow. While it took some time for everything to be organized, hence not seeing me until the third day, I will now be here at least every day. If any of my class wish to join me, they will provide the activity for that day. Otherwise, it will just be you and me.”

I gulp at the prospect, particularly with the smooth and yet unhinged way her tone sounded with that last part. “I understand, ma’am.”

“Good.” Her sultry glare at me then relaxes and she turns back to the class. “All that being said… while today is just an introduction, we have a few more items to address.” She turns to the woman who had asked about my cage. “To answer your questions… no, he isn’t caged. I’ve made sure that he hasn’t touched himself, but that’s not the same, is it?”

The woman shakes her head with a coy smile. “No, ma’am. It isn’t.”

“Exactly.” Ms. Hernandez then faces me again. “So, Jack… first thing… your cage.” She walked over to a purse I just noticed. Opening it up, she soon removes what I could instantly recognize as a colored deep purple chastity cage… and a key.

She walks back over to me and holds the cage like she is about to serve it to me for dinner and seems to handle it similarly to how I imagined jewelers handled freshly crafted rings when presenting them to buyers.

For my part, I could only view the cage with dread and disdain.

“Aww… what’s the matter, Jack?” she asked mockingly. “Not a big fan of your new cage?” As if to emphasize her question, she raises it until it is practically tickling any semblance of nose hair I have.

I shake my head as best I can to get away from it. “Yes, yes! Okay? I don’t like it!”

“And yet you chose it…” Her gaze is fixed on me, but instead of hatred or dominance this time, her appearance is softer… more curious than anything.

I sigh deeply and stare at the ground before me. “I needed the points,” I confess.

Ms. Hernandez sighs, but hers is more of one of satisfaction. “Hear that class? Jack needed the points and chose this cage himself. Consider that for your future sessions with him. If he is willing to cage himself in this terrible place… just to not to have to choose something else, use that vulnerability to your advantage.”

I can already hear the scheming going on around me.

“But for now…” Ms. Hernandez clicks over in her heels and then places two of her fingers under my chin and forces me to look at her. “We need to do something more to fix this little problem of ours, huh? And you know what to do about it… don’t you?”

She doesn’t need to elaborate further. The cage in her hand and her intense focus is enough. “Yes, ma’am…” With a heavy sigh, I inch away from her and raise my skirt and then lower my panties… revealing me in all my shame and humiliation.

“That’s a good boy…” Ms. Hernandez praises but with a hint of humiliation and chastisement I can’t shake off either before she places the main cage on a chair beside her.

Tinkering around with the device, she then unlocks it and breaks it into its two components, readily showing the class what she’s doing… as if this will be their job one day too. “Now… I will leave proper care instructions with Sam… his assistant machine,” she explains to the class, “but each of you will serve as my secondary eyes in the future. Check for signs of irritation or uncleanliness. These may be punishable depending on the circumstances. For now, though…”

Without a second’s hesitation, she plunges in and grabs my package, eliciting a small yelp from my lips. “Take him firm and then thread the ring over his shaft and under his balls. If you do it right, nothing should pinch and when you let go, the ring should hold in place.”

Following her own advice, I feel the ring run along my skin and then almost bounce as everything falls to the other side of the ring. Then, as if to prove her point she let’s go, and as I look beyond my skirt, I see the ring keep in place.

“Just like that… very simple.” She then reaches over and grabs the remaining part of the cage. “Now… take the cage and thread the shaft right through the opening. Go slow and don’t pinch. I will forgive one or even two mistakes, but not more. Pain is not our goal here.”

Again, I hate some of the words she chooses to emphasize.

Once more, she demonstrates what she instructs, going slow and ensuring everyone sees what she’s doing. “Push into place…”

I feel the immediate tightness close all around me.

“Then take the lock, thread through the opening barrel at the top of the cage, and…” I feel a tugging and hear a sliding of sorts, before a sickening click. “Voila! The cage is and locked into place.” She rights herself tall in front of everyone in the room. “And that’s all there is. Time is running out, so questions will have to wait, but…”

Ms. Hernandez turns back to me, and her playful smile sends chills up my spine.

“Jack…” she begins with an edge of playful seduction in her voice. “Part of what I’ve been informing these girls is accurate, but it isn’t everything…”

“It isn’t?” I ask, with more than a little apprehension of what more there could be.

“Yes,” she confirms with a smile. “Part of my situation here is to give you plenty of humiliation, but also a little care. That comes in several forms for me, but as far as these girls are concerned… they can make bargains with you.”

I look at her questioningly and she seems to quickly pick up on that.

‘For example…” She goes over and reaches into her purse once more before pulling out a simple black rectangle of sorts. “Because it’s our first day here, I think we should go big. Not everything will be of point value and to be honest, this is more to make me happy, but…” She opens the rectangle revealing what’s inside.

It’s a makeup kit.

“I would be most appreciative if you allow us to put makeup on you today.” She steps closer to me, the makeup kit… almost looking like a loaded weapon given my present circumstances. “You elect something simple… say the ‘racoon eyes’ makeup looks, and I will be very happy. I’ll throw in a Hershey’s bar to sweeten the deal today, but going forward… you say yes to this? And…” She leans in towards me. “Well… I might just be a little extra generous in several of these upcoming… transactions.”

I wince at the implication, and I feel I want to puke at yet another decision before me.

She struts back to her class, several of them seeming more than eager and pleased of what they’ve seen already today… and how they’re going to end their sessions with me as well. “Well? Ms. Hernandez asks inquisitively, though almost to the point of annoyance that I don’t answer right away. “Have you made your choice?”

I weight my options, but I also stop short before I can even weigh a con to outweigh the pro. Simply put… I’m here for another year. Even looking briefly at the other owners and caregivers, all of them have some pretty nasty warnings. ‘I mean... who would ever elect a caregiver that requires you to wear diapers?’ I nearly shudder at the thought, but back to Ms. Hernandez and her offer… I only see the long-term benefits. Yes, the Hershey’s bar is tempting, but the long-term benefits of more leniency and niceties in my future… especially considering my stark jail cell, is just too tempting to pass up.

“Yes,” I say weakly.

“Yes, what?” Ms. Hernandez asks, almost like she’s just playing with me as she smiles and reminds me of my place beneath her in this type of environment.

I grimace. “Yes, ma’am.” I feel that nauseous feeling again. “I comply with the makeup…”

She grins wider and just to the rear of her, I see my points briefly flicker. They remain at ‘0,’ but I now see the ‘Racoon Eyes’ option selected as well from amongst the others I have selected.

Ms. Hernandez then ushes the girls over to me. “Girls? Lead him to his throne.” She gestures toward the empty chair in front of me, smiling the whole time.

The class doesn’t hesitate for a moment and quickly drags me over to the chair.

Meanwhile, Ms. Hernandez is busy at work setting everything up. Today doesn’t seem as bad as I’ve seen with some of my exes, but her swift work also reveals a hidden mirror and lights just in front of the chair. Seeing the seams elsewhere, I know this room contains several other secrets. Something also tells me that I don’t want to find out what they are…

Easing me back into the chair, Ms. Hernandez starts simply, applying the base layer and then a few highlights and contours before explaining that all this was ‘only for today.’ I’m not sure how much I believe that, especially in the long term, but for the time, I am at least relieved that it won’t be tomorrow as well.

Seemingly satisfied, she then moves onto my eyes, getting the girls to explain in excruciating detail just what they are doing to me. Like a pit crew, each handle something different and does their own moves and has their own tasks for the overall process. They even get into a rhythm of sorts… several enjoy9ing themselves a little too much personally.

“Okay… apply a base eyeshadow color,” one notes with glee.

Another leans in. “Then use a dark eyeliner… it can be black or dark brown to line both the upper and lower lash lines, extending the line slightly outward for a wing.”

“Oh… you’re doing it wrong. Just… move over!” Another student bumps the previous woman over, nearly blinding me in the process with a near miss of a jab to my eye.

“Girls!” Ms. Hernadez thunders out from behind them.

“Sorry, Ms. Hernandez…” they apologize in unison.

As if the two girls at the root of the incident are banned from anything further today, another student is quick to replace them. She’s careful and seems at ease applying the look to one eye. Unlike the others though, she smiles at me and then simply hands off the eyeliner for the other eye to another student. I’m curious about her, more than the others at this point, but another student is already on top of me.

“Okay… here we go…” She sticks out her tongue as she dives for my face quickly. “Blush the liner with a brush or sponge. Today, I’m using the sponge… but that’s mostly because others took the brushes.” I can see a momentarily glimpse of something hateful in her eyes, and I make a quick mental note to never piss her off. Despite the over 30 students here, I’m starting to easily separate them into two categories… those who would hurt me and like it, and those who seem to actually care about my well-being or just view me as another person they need to interact with to earn a grade.”

One of those from the later and more caring category then approaches me calmly.

“Now, Jack,” she starts, her calling of my name seeming less mocking and more just to get my attention. “When you do this look yourself in the future to maintain your points and not get in trouble…” Her eyes briefly flicker over to Ms. Hernandez as if to imply her punishments if I should fail. “It’s not needed always, but I would suggest you add mascara to complete the look. It’s a little bolder of a look, but its more striking and just more.” She then leans in and whispers. “Those types of things can really add up with all this…”

“That’s enough now,” Ms. Hernandez emphasizes, coming over and even tapping the girl on the shoulder. “You can retire and go to the rear. Jack looks lovely and doesn’t need anything more than…” The girl retreating away, Ms. Hernandez leans in with a tube of lipstick. “Pucker those lips, sweetie,” she instructs.

I quickly comply.

“Good boy…” She then applies the red lipstick with grace and no small amount of satisfaction. “Perfect! Smack your lips together and then have a look in the mirror for me.”

Before, I had caught quick glances in the mirror of my reflection, but another girl always bounded in to apply her bit of the makeup next before I could really look. I saw flashes of my face… enough to now be nervous of what awaited me, but not enough that once I saw it that my jaw doesn’t drop.

I was definitely a man… but the makeup, applied so effortlessly and heavily to my face seems hell-bent on covering that up by any means necessary.

“Well… aren’t you just the prettiest thing in the world!” Ms. Hernandez gushes. “Don’t you agree girls?”

As each of them coo at me and similarly gush over my new look, though just temporary, I can feel the screaming and warning sirens going off in my head. Yes, I had consented to all this before. Yes, it is better than the untitled ‘punishments’ or especially of escape… but that doesn’t make it any easier. One year minus three days left. Like a prison sentence, I am counting each of them down, but after today, I am horrified and left with one burning but terrible question. ‘If today is just the start, what will be like in a year?’ I wince at the notion and have to turn away from the reflection that is now me in this horrible place.

[codsterc10@msn.com]

Amazing job. I put my vote in for Bethany. 

[LostBBoyBear]

Hey everyone!

Nothing really new this chapter, so I’ll just say thank you to all of you reading this. And while I don’t do it for praise or anything like that, it’s always nice to see at least some appreciation for my stories. So, thank you.

Just as a reminder, a new one 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 of my story!

Chapter 4: This Is Just a Taste

“Awww!” Ms. Hernandez coos down at me. “Look girls, he’s blushing!” She points her manicured finger at me, and it only causes me to blush even harder.

I want to die.

Or escape or fight back or flee… but I also know that all that is a fool’s game. It would be stupidity incarnate with what I’ve seen so far. Sam even unlocked my door the other day and told me how to get out. It was bold, but now I know that it was calculated. I could have left, yes, but injury or death would have been certain from the men in the towers with the big guns. It was an option… just not one I was willing to risk.

At least not on only day three.

Even if it means horrifically staring back at my current reflection when Ms. Hernadez rights my body upward once more. Now, it seems that I don’t really have a choice in the matter.

“Don’t you wanna look at what we gave you today, Jack?” she asks, pointing back at the mirror that shows my shame as clear as day.

“I…” I try to look, knowing that compliance with her wishes will only benefit me in the future, but I get another look at the ruby red lipstick or the heavy shadowing around my eyes, and I have to look away almost instantly.

“I think he’s shy!” one of the students calls out.

“Get him to look! Get him to look!” another taunts.

“Now, now, girls…” Ms. Hernandez says in her now very familiar commanding voice. “The deal was only for Jack to put on the makeup and accept the points permanently… not look into the mirror if he doesn’t want to. All we can do is encourage him along, but even then, we must follow the process here. This is a tight system, and we need to respect it… something for you all to remember going forward.”

She clicks her heels across the floor in front of them and me, almost creating a line that none of them seem to dare to cross. “That being said… in the future? You all want to offer him a deal and push him a little more?” She grins wickedly at her students and then at me. “Then you all go right ahead.”

I nearly shudder at the thought.

Ms. Hernadez then digs her nails into my chest. It’s not enough to hurt, but definitely enough to make an impression. “Still… I think the girls and I did a marvelous job on your makeup today, sweetie. So, Jack… is there something you want to tell us?”

I see the longing in her eyes. It’s a desire that I saw before when she wanted me to lower myself even further beneath her. In this case, the humiliation is less, and I can sense that she wants gratitude more than anything. I feel it’s a risk, but I take a breath and nod before looking directly at her and then at the class. “Thank you for putting on my makeup.”

“And?” Ms. Hernandez presses, several of the other students leaning in as well.

“And…” I wince, knowing what she wants to hear fully. “Thank you for teaching me to put it on so that I can do it myself in the future.”

Ms. Hernandez doesn’t look like she can smile any more. “You’re very welcome, sweetie. Any time you need a refresher course… you be free to ask any one of us.” She glances over to her more than willing, eager, and ready students. “I’m sure that we all would just love to teach you again.”

I flinch at a few of the looks staring back at me. It doesn’t set a very good precedent, but for today, I feel my nerves are already a little shot. “Y… yes, ma… ma’am. Thank you…”

This seems to be the cherry on top for Ms. Hernandez, almost like she was waiting to hear those exact words. She then turns fully toward her class. “Now, everyone. Back outside the way we came in. Say goodbye if you must, but… no complaints! We still have three others to see today. Remember that!”

There are a few groans, but most say their goodbyes with a devious smile or two, though there are a few that smile at me more in a way of comfort and sympathy than any malicious intent. I quickly take note of their faces… praying I see them more in the future than someone like Tiffany.

But I don’t think my luck is that good.

As the last girl leaves, Ms. Hernadez guides me out of the room as she reverts the space back to its original stark and plain appearance without the mirror. Allowing me to enter my cell, she closes the door right behind me. “Good job today, Jack. I have to say… before I forget, I do appreciate you choosing me in all this. I know all this can be a challenge…” She shakes her head as if to clear any sign of kindness to her. “But more importantly, it’s your first day and I just want to say that I think you actually did pretty well all things considered.”

“Thank you, ma’am…” I feel the walls once more closing in on me from my little jail cell as the door clicks locked in front of me.

Looking back at her though, I can see there’s a twinkle in her eye, but she quickly reaches into her purse and misdirects the light away. “Here…” She hands me the Hershey’s bar I had bargained for earlier. “There’s a lot more where this came from, so… just remember that.”

Waving, she makes her way down the short walkway and before she disappears from view down the way that I know leads to the stairs and exits out of here, she turns and waves at me. “See you tomorrow, Jack. And… be sure to get some rest. Today was just a taste of what is to come.” She smirks and then exits from view, a loud slamming noise commencing with her departure outside.  

I stand staring back at the hallway that the students and Ms. Hernandez once occupied, my mouth agape and my limbs slack in shock over what had just transpired. My whole image of a cheerleading outfit, the dumb and horrified stupor on my face, my thick makeup, and my overall still masculine features… I know I must make a pretty pitiful sight.

“Jack… would you like to talk in-depth over your day with Ms. Hernandez and her students?” Sam soon questions. “Or would you just prefer the debrief?”

I manage to snap out of my near drooling, stunned form for a moment to look back at the camera which I had to come to associate with Sam. “Debrief?”

“Yes, Jack… it’s a way to self-regulate the owners,” Sam explains. “Given the nature of this operation, some… ‘negatives’ are purely recorded as a side note, and nothing can be done to change those circumstances. But there are other times where the government or another caregiver or owner may need to intercede.”

“And you weren’t looking at what happened?” I ask, likely already knowing the answer but wanting to confirm that I wasn’t completely alone in those situations. I am still unsure of Ms. Hernandez and her intentions, feeling both strict domination and yet a warm and understanding side to her as well, so another person or even machine watching in on me I feel would give me an extra sense of security… ludicrous or not.

The speaker crackles for a moment. “I… passively watch for archival purposes.” Sam must see my near instant moment of defeat right then. “But… I also intervene on your behalf if any of 25 different scenarios happen… plus a few others for discretionary and new purposes I might see.”

“So, you can stop them?” I wonder with no small amount of hope.

“Well…” Sam pauses more than usual. “I can send an alert out.” They pause yet again. “But physical help does require more time to get to you, and… a healthy amount of power from my end…”

“Oh…” I feel both burdened and relieved with this new information. Part of it means that some of my requests for help might be factored but ultimately ignored. That leaves a foul taste in my mouth… especially with some of the warning I had been seeing with some of the options in ultra fine print below them. Alternatively, though, it also means that there are flaws in Sam’s system. Minor, but… considering all that happened today, I’m not entirely I can keep this up for a year. If today is truly only the start of all this nightmare, escape… however unlikely, seems like maybe a better alternative. ‘Maybe I will be that one in a thousand who manages to escape?’ It’s a dangerous thought, but in truth, I feel a tiny spot of warmth for a single moment.

“So, for your safety of sorts, this operation instead relies on a regular check-in process to hopefully avoid any of that. If a problem starts, say with one of the students abusing their power and Ms. Hernandez doesn’t catch it, steps can be taken so it doesn’t happen again. Or… unlikely as it may be, if one of the students starts to show signs of violence towards you… a real threat to your well-being rather than punishment or humiliation, it can be stopped before it… escalates,” Sam continues, seemingly clueless to the flaw it just revealed about itself, while also simultaneously skipping over the fact that death is a remote possibility here but also still possible.

It fills me with a dread that just adds fuel to the fire of a desire to escape.

“All that noted now… are you ready for the questions?” Sam inquires once again. “We can start slowly for your first day but just give me your general thoughts at first. Let’s start with something more basic… how did you feel with all this?”

I blink back at the faceless and emotionless camera. “Humiliated…”

The questions are pretty generic that follow but I can see the pattern in what they are digging around for. Knowing they are for my safety, I see they are more there to add contextual clues to what is going on from my perspective during the time. It’s not great at describing why I chose to willingly put on makeup today, but I see the process and answer each one carefully.

Finally, the questions are done, and I retreat to my bed, bringing the Hershey’s bar with me.

“Was it all worth it for that chocolate bar?” Sam asks with a hint of curiosity I would never suspect from a purely lifeless machine.

I slowly peel open the wrapper and view the chocolatey goodness inside. After a few days of eating slop, the smell of the chocolate quickly permeates my nose and reminds me of better times. It’s small, but it’s an escape from this place.

I look up at the camera and smile. “For today… yes.” I then sink my teeth into the sweet taste and crunch down as a chunk breaks off in my mouth. Right then, I can ignore everything else. Right then, I’m just Jack eating a candy bar. Right then, I don’t feel trapped. I’m just me.

Right then, I can ignore the feeling of dread I have for the next day.

*              *              *

Yesterday morning, I felt the pins and needles of the unknown. I hadn’t met Ms. Hernandez yet and I didn’t even really know about the girls. Yes, there were some notes of being observed, but I really hadn’t seen a full-on mention of students coming to see me.

This morning though, I woke on my hardened and dingy mattress to a new day… but instead of hope, I could only feel nausea and terror over what was to come, now that I had been introduced to the hard reality of my new daily life with Ms. Hernandez.

“Good morning, Jack,” Sam greets me as usual. “Ready for another day with Ms. Hernandez and her students?”

I shake my head dimly and without a second thought, I quickly go over to relieve myself at the steel toilet in my cell. At this point, I know I’m being watched through the camera I continually stare back at, but I know I also don’t have much of a choice in the matter. “Yes, but… no,” I reply, flushing the shiny and cold toilet before me. “I wish I wasn’t told that yesterday was ‘only the beginning.’ Now… I just can’t get that out of my mind.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Jack,” Sam responds in his own mechanically caring way.

Sadly, I know it’s likely the only human comfort I’ll get today.

“May I suggest getting ready for her though?” he poses. “Remember… you have more tasks to complete for her today. Full application of makeup is not required, but you have also selected the ‘racoon eyes’ makeup look and must apply it every morning from now on.”

I sigh and go over to start filling my bucket for my ‘shower.’ It’s hard not to imagine the candidate that selected the mansion option is now luxuriating in a bath for all I know right now. ‘I fucking hate this place…’

Still though, I’m also curious about one thing in particular. “Sam…” I hear the speakers crack a little as if coming to life to better listen in. “What if I didn’t apply the makeup? I’m not saying I won’t, but… you mentioned I needed to do it everyday now… I don’t think you would let me forget, but… just so I know…”

There’s an eerie silence from the speakers for a moment… the only sound in the room is of my bucket filling up with water still.

“Jack… I would highly advise against this,” Sam warns me. “It is possible to stop applying the makeup, but I wouldn’t recommend doing it for more than an hour. Ms. Hernandez will demand it in her presence if nothing else, but… if the system also registers you without it for say… two hours, even if she isn’t here… she will still hear about it.”

“And?” I ask after a moment of silence.

“And she will punish you,” Sam notes quickly. “Or any of the others in their own ways if you don’t wear your elected makeup in the next year now. And please trust me… you don’t want to find out the punishments for each. A few can be… extreme.”

“Oh…” I don’t press any further. I’m already filled with enough dread today and I don’t need anymore.

So, instead, I dutifully turn back to my routine. Like yesterday, Sam watches on and makes several suggestions. His robotic voice offers several times to stop, but I continually insist to Sam on making more suggestions… even around my newly installed and already hated chastity cage. If there truly is a give and take system with Ms. Hernandez and her students, despite the added humiliation and annoyance, I know I want to be on the positive end of that balance. If the Hershey’s bar was any indication, I feel strongly that it’s going to be my only way to survive staying in a jail cell for a whole year. At this point, considering the number of needed points for any other dwelling, without debasing myself that is, I feel I’m stuck with only this one little room.

“Very good with your makeup today, Jack,” Sam compliments me as I ladle another spoonful of the brownish goop into my mouth a little later on. “Even with my helpful suggestions and hints this morning, you seem to have a knack for it.”

I wince at the compliment. “Yeah… thanks, Sam. Just… don’t remind me.”

“And why wouldn’t he do that?” a terribly familiar voice echoes into my jail cell.

The voice freezes me on the spot, and I turn slowly, gulping as to who I’m likely to see… which I soon dreadfully confirm. “M… Ms. Hernandez. I… I wasn’t expecting you until later. I…” I hold up my bowl of goop. “I haven’t even finished eating.”

She glares at me and then down at the bowl presented to her. “Ick. Get that putrid mess away from me this instant.” She looks over into my cell. “Yes… good. Brush your teeth. I know it’s not the best toothpaste in the world, but it’s something. I also won’t view this as an insult in my presence. Other may not be so kind here in the future…”

I notice there’s not even a discussion about me finishing my food… or a compliment about my makeup… just degradation and warnings about my future. I’m not exactly looking for a single teeny one from her even, but… a compliment would show me I was doing a good job and wouldn’t be punished. I also shove all that from my mind however and merely set the bowl down and go over and brush my teeth.

“Good… now smile for me,” Ms. Hernandez instructs as I walk back over to her after finishing and washing my spent toothpaste down the drain of my sink. “Now… stand back.”

Again, I comply and soon, the door unlocks with a click, and I follow her back to the room where we were yesterday. I brace for another 30 students to amble all around the room and stare at me like some freak of nature, ready and willing with their likely humiliating tasks for me to complete today.

But that’s not what I find.

Instead, there’s only three girls today. Worse, two of the flanking students seem subordinate to the middle one… someone who I recognize right away from yesterday. ‘Tiffany? Crap! She was one of the more vindictive and humiliating ones!’ I panic right away, but Ms. Hernandez, likely intentionally, is blocking the door. I wince when I turn back to her though… looking for any sign of comfort.

She only smiles at first.

“Well, now… Jack… this is Tiffany, Rebecca, and Nina,” she notes after a moment, gesturing back to each of the seemingly hungry students I just saw. “As I said before… not every student will come every day. There will be a once-a-week mandatory session with all of them again, but for the other six days of the week, it’s a strictly volunteer position, and sometimes… it might just be me here.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I finally say at last, feeling an eerie sensation that Ms. Hernandez was looking for any type of subservient response and acknowledgement of what she had just said.

“Good. Now girls… as a reminder to both you and Jack here, I want to explain the ground rules.” Each of them nods back and Ms. Hernandez only smiles and flips a panel around on one of the walls, revealing a few hidden rules. “Pretty simple here, but… no permanent marks or injuries. We don’t break the skin here. Spankings are rare and to only be administered by me… though that will be extremely rare.”

I swallow dryly at the notion.

“Also, points can be granted to you, Jack, if you accept a new deal from the girls here.” She then turned to her students. “Girls… remember now that extra credit will be rewarded to those who convince Jack to take more deals. Points are best and the most valuable, but trade deals without points are still acceptable.”

She turns back to me. “Now, Jack… so you are aware, for your own situation here, the girls can offer anything within the rules. You can say no but understand that I will have discretion over how many times this occurs. Refuse too harshly or too often and you will start to be forced to do some of the tasks whether you want to or not. I hope it won’t come to this, but… you should know that before we get started today.”

I meekly nod at the veiled threat.

She smiles back at me and moves to the side of the room. “Now then… everyone understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” we all say in unison, though are demeanors are drastically different. Rebecca and Nina seem to just acknowledge the rules. Tiffany seems annoyed by them, but I know I come across as scared of them. They imply so much going forward… and yet leave still so much open for interpretation.

“Now… this is where I will step aside. Girls?” Each of them perks up at being called by Ms. Hernandez. “This is where you will be taking over. Remember the rules and tag me in if you need me. For these first few weeks at least, I will be staying in the room. Once you have proven your ability to follow them, I may give you more liberties. For now, though… let’s start small, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you!” each says eagerly and with sincerity.

But the glee only grows in Tiffany’s eyes… and something definitively more sinister… plotting. She soon walks up to me and guides me over to the other two. “Okay, Jack… first day and all, so we can start simple.” She briefly flashes a look back at Ms. Hernandez, now taking a seat in the far corner of the room, before grabbing my cheerleading skirt and hiking it right up.

Her smirk puts a knot in my soul.

“Now… we’ve been given permission to go a little further today. So… let’s test that out, shall we?” She nods and her two companions then guide me to a bench of sorts before patting the top of it. “Up you go and lie down please.”

I don’t like any of this, but I don’t protest and humbly get on top of the padded surface.

“So… it goes like this today…” She traces her finger over the exposed crotch of my red lacy panties. “We’re going to ask you five questions… five simple little questions. Answer them quickly and without protest and…” She holds up a key… the key to my cage. “We’ll give you a little pleasure before we leave. Sound like a plan?”

Ms. Hernandez doesn’t so much as lift a finger to stop them. ‘Fuck…’

I feel weak under her sway. She isn’t very convincing, but it’s now day four of this whole thing. Since the start, I haven’t been able to do anything but think and fantasize of a different life… without the ability t let off any steam or get any relief. Now, with my cage firmly in place… my needs are like a scratch in the middle of my back that I just can’t get to. Today, these students… no matter how twisted, or essentially offering me a back scratch.

I submit to their whims. “I agree…”

Tiffany’s smile once again sends a disgust echoing throughout my body. “Good boy…” She then positions herself at the foot of the padded bench I’m now lying on. “First question… have you ever worn the color pink or purple willingly?”

I didn’t like the start, but the question was… ambiguous. Given my current application of makeup, cheerleading outfit, and my hair growing faster than ever before, I know its likely an effort to further humiliate and emasculate me, but those colors aren’t exactly banned from men wearing them at all.

I sigh. “Yes… but I…”

“Have you ever kissed a man before?” Tiffany asks, quickly interrupting me before I had to time to explain that the college I went to had purple in the school’s colors. It wasn’t out of the norm and certainly not feminine as far as I was concerned, but Tiffany is already pressing this next question.

“No…” This one is pretty straightforward. I danced with a guy once in college, but I didn’t feel anything and just stuck to women.

Tiffany doesn’t seem to like my answer. “Have you ever put on makeup before today or yesterday?” she asks more forcefully this time.

I wince again. “Yes, but it was just for Hallo…”

“Silence!” she nearly spits back in my face. “You will only answer the questions you are being asked and nothing more. I won’t tell you again…”

Ms. Hernandez almost ripples forward in her seat at the outburst from one of her students… but remains firmly locked into place… likely as Tiffany had only made a threat instead of truly acting with a punishment over me on her own.

So, feeling no other choice, I relent to her next question.

Tiffany lets off the faintest of smiles. “Good boy… now, have you ever acted or wanted to act like a child before?”

The question throws me off a little… especially given the feminine and girly themes of the others. Still though, I see her brow wrinkle in anticipation of my answer. “I… no, well… not on purpose… I just…”

“Answer the question!” she barks at me. “Is it a yes or a no?”

“Then…” I have to think for a moment, but I recall years of going to theme parks and reliving my childhood amusements. It’s not a big deal and so many people do it these days, but… I can’t tell her no in this black and white world of her apparently. “Yes! I…”

Having looked away briefly, she snaps back to me, and I could see I’m on dangerous waters already with her in answering her question more than she’s asking for, so I don’t say anything more… only adding to the smile etched across her face with my previous compliance. “Good… now then, last question…” She steps forward and stares me down. “Do you feel horny right now?”

I feel my spirit deflate a little at that one. Knowing what she wants to hear and not wanting to lie or risk punishment from her nasty little self or even Ms. Hernandez, I droop my head down in shame. “Yes…”

“Ha! I knew it!” she exclaims. “This will be perfect! Rebecca… he’s answered all five questions willingly. You know what to do.”

Rebecca nods and she and Tiffany trade places in their distant observation of me. The new student, tall and unassuming, seems to be an odd mix with the prim and proper Tiffany. I also notice a little twinge of resentment now. “Lie back…” she plainly instructs me.

I nod and lie back on the padded surface.

She sighs and looks at Ms. Hernandez. “Ma’am? He completed the five questions. With your approval? His reward today?”

I can see a shimmer of something resembling annoyance and maybe even disappointment with my owner and caregiver over there, but she ultimately nods and waves Rebecca on with her task. “Go on… just get it over and be quick about it.”

Rebecca nods and lifts both my cheerleading skirt and the key to my cage from her pocket. In seconds, her hands pull my red lace panties down to my knees and I’m unlocked. Not wasting a second, almost as if she wants to get over quickly or is highly enthusiastic… though doubtful, she begins to pleasure me with her hands.

“That’s right… ease into it, Jack…” she says, causing a blush to heighten all around my cheeks.

To be blunt, I have a lot of pent-up tension, and I quickly come to life. A few giggles from the peanut gallery nearby divert my attention momentarily away from the pleasure and to the fact that I am completely exposed to Ms. Hernandez, Nina, Rebecca, and Tiffany. Worse… one of them is trying to get me off in the most clinical way I think I had ever experienced up until that point. Right then, I honestly missed even one of my crazy exes when she used to pleasure me back in college as well. She at least cared for me. Rebecca… I was just glad that Ms. Hernandez was monitoring for signs of them hurting me.

But… I was also pent-up.

I could feel that tension bubbling just at the surface. Rebecca goes faster. Still harsh, fast, and without emotion… but it’s all there. She has the mechanics down, and the way I’m feeling… I don’t last long.

“Good, Jack… very quick,” Rebbeca comments with a sly grin on her face as she cleans her hand up with some nearby wipes.

“Very quick,” Tiffany emphasizes, strutting over as if to brag about this incident.

For once, I’m glad Ms. Hernandez comes over. “No, no, girls. It’s done. Once the reward is given, your tasks are over, and we are finished for the day. Keep that in mind for the future if you want to tease him afterward. Very easy to negotiate at that point.” She steps right beside me, my chest still heaving from the momentary effort. “Cage and key please…” Her hand extends for the second of my two prisons here.

Nina, quiet as ever, is more than ready to hand it back.

“Thank you, Nina.” Ms. Hernandez turns back to me. “Now, Jack… hold still.” Seeming ever the professional, now that she’s not instructing anyone, the cage goes on in less than a minute without any pinching, bunching, or even force on her part. “You may stand Jack…”

I do so and quickly pull my panties back up. ‘Geesh… never thought I’d actually be glad to be covering up with these…’

Like before, Ms. Hernandez instructs her students to exit the way they came in, but this time, Tiffany is a little too quick and ready before she fully leaves. “Jack… I was thinking about your options. I think you desperately need some more points. One thing to consider… take the ‘Time Out’ punishment option. It’s not much but it’s something small that could lead to big things. Also… it might lead to another hand job next time. Just something to consid…”

“Tiffany…” Ms. Hernandez nearly growls. “Up and out. Now.” Her pointed finger and manicured nail gesturing out the door only emphasizes her desire for punctuality in her exit.

Tiffany briefly holds up her arms as if to surrender and complies quietly as she exits.

Now alone, Ms. Hernandez turns back to me. “You don’t have to do that, Jack. She was out of line, and…”

“I might take her up on the offer,” I note quickly. “I just… she is right. I don’t have many points and that relief… I’m ashamed to say it, but even that is probably going to be the highlight of my time here so far. Hershey’s bar was great, but…”

Ms. Hernandez sighs and shakes her head. “No, I understand. You don’t need to say more. I just…” Her hesitation fades and her posture straightens once more. “Enough of that… let me look at you…”

I stand there and present myself to her, but I’m also curiosity. “Did I do something wrong, ma’am?”

Ms. Hernandez, previously looking at my back for whatever she was seemingly looking for, steps back in front of me and shakes her head. “No, Jack.” She sighs… almost as if she is burdened by something. “I know I might have shown you the more ‘owner’ part of me lately, but I am also your primary caregiver as well. I’m not as prevalent as say… Ms. Sophia int that way, but I’m no slouch either. So, right now… I need to make sure you’re okay. Lift your arms now for me…”

I do as she commands, and her eyes follow to wherever she instructs me to raise, move, or twist. I’m not exactly sure what she’s looking for, but I feel the peculiar sensation as if I’m a cluster of cells being scrutinized under a very large microscope all of a sudden.

“Hmmm… no sores, bruises, cuts… seem to be pretty healthy,” she announces, some relief glinting off her demeanor now. “And if you were curious, yes, I do care about your needs. I just… I have other duties to perform for you as well.”

“I see… uh, will this happen every session?” I ask when she steps back, seemingly satisfied with what she saw for me today.

She turns back to me. “I’m honestly not sure. It might be once a week. Maybe every day. It just sort of depends on whether I see something concerning or not. Think of me as your emergency contact here right now. Even if you elect other caregivers to be your prime, I can still step in a case of emergency. Or… I can make recommendations for you to improve your life or make you healthier. For example…” She gestures to the food still lying out from when she had interrupted me earlier when she first got here. “Your food.”

“My food?” I briefly panic over that there actually is something wrong with it other than its looks.

She chuckles. “Don’t worry, Jack. It’s not poisoned or laced with anything. It’s just…” Her face grows darker. “It’s not a lot. But also… how’s the taste?”

“Uh… pretty bland I guess?” It’s not horrible but I know firmly that it would never win any cooking award.

“Exactly…” she says with a grin. “My girls and I will be offering you other options. Yes, today was more on the physical pleasure side of things. Something tells me that some of these girls will go there nine out of ten times I’m afraid. May be good for you in the short term, but long term?” She looks at the food again. “That stuff will keep you alive… but that’s about it.”

“So… you’re offering me a choice between a hand job from a bunch of beautiful college girls… or some tasty food?” I ask, scrounging some of the ridiculousness of what I just said and that is my current life.

“Well… when you put it like that…” She ponders the question for a moment. “Actually… maybe yes. I know it sounds stupid, but you can always request for the rewards to focus more on something you need here… even want.” She pauses, almost like she’s letting my imagination roam free over what those items could be.

“For example,” she continues after a moment, “I could bring you more chocolate bars. Or maybe some amenities to help you pass the time. Or…” She looks over at my depressingly uncomfortable bed. “Maybe a blanket. Not entirely sure of how this place will be in the winter…”

It’s something I hadn’t even considered yet about a year’s stay here. Yes, it was nice now and we were in the desert, but cold usually becomes an entirely different matter. Right now, if there was a chill in here, I would only have my cheerleading uniform, some panties, and a plain thin T-shirt. To me, that already spelled trouble just in concept let alone practice.

“Some of those items will take more effort on your part… more compliance, but…” She lets the thought linger in the air before closing the cell door behind her. “Just something for you to consider is all. For now… I’ll be off. A few others to see today and I think I need to have a chat with my girl about today. Pretty sure you have the same…” She gestures to the camera and the speaker that Sam’s voice comes from.

Without another word, she departs, once again, leaving me completely alone… almost.

“Jack… would you like to talk about what happened today?” Sam asks just as I sit down on my bed.

“I mean… I guess?” I sigh and scoot back on the bed before leaning up against the wall. “It honestly wasn’t as bad as I thought. I just… Tiffany and her friends are going to be a problem. I just know it. I mean… what the heck are they going to be like when Ms. Hernandez leaves?”

“I don’t know, Jack…” Sam answers honestly. “But tell me more…”

I then proceed to tell Sam everything. I answer his questions as best I can, and gratefully, unlike Tifanny’s, Sam’s are more to the point and truly about checking in with me. They are a little intrusive, but I don’t feel that I’ve just exposed all my secrets to the world afterward… or that somehow in the future that they’ll be used against me. As Sam finishes, I frankly wasn’t sure I could say the same about Tiffany and the others.

Still, with the hardest part of the day over with, I sigh and collapse full into my bed. It’s still a few hours before my next meal today, and the session with Ms. Hernandez and her students wasn’t very long, but I just want to close my eyes. Close them and at least imagine a better fate than all this. I know it’s a fool’s dream, but with the prospect of more to come, I take solace where I can for the time being.  

[LostBBoyBear]

Hey everyone!

Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up. I know there are far fewer of you reading this particularly story at this time, and that’s okay, but I just wanted to apologize for that. Apparently, windburns, sunburns, and a lack of sleep from a long week at the beach will take the energy right out of you. Who knew?

Regardless of all that though, I am still going to try to get three chapters up this week. I might be able to post another tomorrow and then another on Saturday… or one on Friday and another Saturday. Either way, it is my goal to keep pumping these out. I know that makes it more difficult to catch up on everything, but I’m not feeling the desire to drag this plot out late into the year… especially with its lack of ‘popularity.’ Again, it is not a big deal, but there it is.

Also, another shorter chapter today, but don’t worry, things will start ramping up and more characters will soon be introduced. Once that happens, the plot starts to move a lot quicker. I could show more humiliation and flesh all the current characters out more, but I feel that it would have made the story drag on with this section and not spend nearly enough on the others that get a little more interesting.

Just as a reminder, a new one 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 of my story!

Chapter 5: The Musings of Humiliation and the Future

In and out of an audience followed by moments of boredom and further degradation of my own ego or sanity. That is what my life is like now. I want more than anything to change it, but… I look at my options daily. I feel that I’ve practically memorized all of them… or at least the ones I can stomach to recite in my head for more than a second before becoming nauseous. So, when I look… I see what I can choose but then turn away each and every time by the end.

In this system though, no matter what, I need an owner or caregiver. I despise several of the students… namely Tiffany and her friends, but Ms. Hernandez… she’s fair and alone with her some days, I see an element of care in her nature. It isn’t much and her own personal humiliations nearly overcloud that feeling, but it’s still there. Looking at the other options to be rid of the troublesome student girl volunteers once and for all in my life… I don’t see any other good options of the three… at least not lately.

For perspective, one has the largest warning of all, and I don’t look at her option for more than a brief glimpse to see that red flash all around her. The other two though… the first seems to have no amount of care whatsoever, filling in here as more of an academic role and that I would be her subject on pain… not something very appealing to me. The other though… to be blunt, she requires her candidate to wear diapers. She seems to be the most caring, but I always come back to a single thought: ‘There is such a thing as ‘too much’ caring…’

I know it’s a thing with my ego. I can admit that now as the days and now weeks pass me by. I’m in a jail cell and my companions are either the students whose sole purpose seems to be to humiliate me, the one in charge of them, or the emotionless mechanical voice that echoes into the room occasionally. Don’t mistake me… Sam is useful, and I think my job here would be ten times harder at least without him… but I don’t think it would have killed his creators to give him at least something of a personality.

Regardless, it all leads me to the one inevitable conclusion that I’m stuck where I’m at now.

So, with that understanding nearly branded into my subconscious by now, everything becomes routine… haunting and humiliating yes, but a routine that I pass by without too much incident. And foremost, it doesn’t take long to understand the notion that ‘compliance is everything’ here. A simple notion, but one that only takes a second to understand in these conditions.

For example, I understood that just after the end of the first week…

*              *              *

“Pee yourself…” Tiffany instructs after a long day of other humiliations of pink clothing, denials of pleasure and release, or verbal chastisement.

“What?” Even with all I was hearing with all sorts of weird tasks to do now… I was flabbergasted. I didn’t like the others, but they were tolerable… mostly because I could wash or take whatever humiliation off usually when they left. I still had the racoon eyes and cheerleading skirt and red lacy panties… but that was it. This though… it felt like a step too far.

“You heard me… pee yourself.” Her gaze narrows and she elbows Nina, who then removes a single object from her own nearby bag that she had brought along. “I’ll throw in this cookie if you do it… a package of cookies next time we come if you do it in the next few minutes without complaint.”

I look over and I see Ms. Hernandez shifts uncomfortably a bit, but to my dismay, she doesn’t intervene and stays there as usual. Seeing this before, I sadly know that Tiffany and her friends either got this approved of beforehand or she can’t officially object to it on principle.

“But… I…” I put up a weak attempt to say ‘no’ without actually saying ‘no.’ I know that there have been threats against saying ‘no’ since the start and the last thing I want to do is to find out what that would entail.

“Well… I guess you can kiss that package of cookies goodbye then…” Tiffany says as she smiles wickedly back at me. “Sounds like a complaint to me, huh?” She looks at her friends and the few other fellow students that managed to show up today.

In the back, I notice the same girl that was nice to me the other day now looks mortified.

“What? I…” My thoughts shift away from her though as I look at the rest of my eager audience and I see they have me cornered… all eyes now fixed on me. Compliance is key and I’ve been warned before that complaints of any kind will just get the punishment anyways.

It’s too late though.

“Oh! Sounds like we have a protestor on our hands today, girls!” Tiffany recites gleefully, looking at her friends who nod in agreement and then back at me with hunger in their eyes. “I think this little boy needs to be taught a lesson!”

I know I shouldn’t, but the rage right then just pours out of me like a fountain. I’ve been suppressing my emotions for over a week now, and it’s worked. But now, these girls are threatening me for a single thought. It’s just too much for me to take.

“No! I didn’t do shit wrong! I was hesitant. I’m human. That’s normal. Nothing more! I…” But I stop in my rebuttal against them.

Ms. Hernandez at long last shifts in her chair and stares right at me with woeful eyes. “Well… that’s definitely a refusal, Jack.” She stands up and strides over to me and her students. “I’m afraid that we can’t have that wort of talk. The girls were trying to get to you, and you let them. Now, I have no choice but to punish you.”

“But I…” I want to argue again, but a quick glare back from Ms. Hernandez stops me cold. It reads simply as ‘don’t push me anymore…’ I can only back away and nod my head in defeat now.

“Girls… that was mostly our session today, but if you promise to stay quiet and stay behind me… I can allow you to watch Jack’s punishment for complaining, however slightly, and not agreeing to your bargain,” Ms. Hernadez announces. “Can you all agree to this… or do you need to wait outside for me while I finish in here with his punishment by myself?”

Many of the girls shake their heads. A few in the rear seem uncomfortable, but most of the groups also says in unison, “We promise to be good and stay quiet and remain behind you Ms. Hernandez,” or at least something like it in their own ways.

Turning back to me with a smile, Ms. Hernandez looks at me coldly. “Okay, Jack… back to your cell…”

Feeling shame and drooping my head low, on my way back, I wonder if the kindness that I’ve seen in Ms. Hernandez will trickle down to my punishment. It’s a hope for sure, but stepping into my cell, that notion is quickly dashed just as easily as it came.

“Okay… up against the corner. I don’t think you can get your nose in the corner, but I want you to try for me,” she instructs, pointing to the corner of my jail cell by the area where I take my ‘showers.’ “Oh, and once you’ve tried hard enough and go as far as you can… don’t even think about moving from that spot… or else.”

Obediently, I go over after swallowing my nerves down and try to press my nose into the corner as instructed… it doesn’t work as she predicted, but it forces me as close to the abutting walls as I can be.

“Good. Now…” Ms. Hernandez clicks over in her heels, and I see the shadows of her hands creep to both of my sides. “Here we go…” In seconds, her fingers snake up my skirt, loop around my panties, and with one quick tug, she has them bunched around my knees.

I’m now locked into a sort of self-imposed and instructed position… my butt standing starkly as it faces my slew of onlookers. To my shame, I can already hear the giggles.

I hear more clicking. “Now, girls… as you likely know from the research materials I provided you; you are aware that here at this facility, there are four kinds of caregivers… each specializing in their own unique fields. But most importantly, each tries to stay out of the realms of the others. Which means… I know many of you are hoping for a spanking, but I’m going to tell you know… that won’t be happening today. In fact, for my purposes, there are only three scenarios which would warrant that.”

I gulp in terror of what they would be, but there’s another part of me that’s relieved. Before shoving my nose into the corner of the cell as far as I could, I tried to contemplate just what ‘punishment’ would entail from Ms. Hernandez. Length, intensity, type… all were under consideration.

“So… instead, we get creative…” She says it with such a unique and terrible combination of both joy and domination. I hear more clicks away from me… followed by the rush of water.

My mind rushes quickly trying to figure out just what she’s doing. ‘Is this an enema? Am I going to be tortured? Is she going to dunk me into a basin or something and simulate drowning?’ My mind is going to all sorts of terrible and nasty scenarios, but I just can’t help it. So far, my hopes have been squashed and my fears made into my new everyday reality.

The water then turns off. “Now then… most of the time with punishments, they need to match the crime, and as I said before, I need to keep with my own realm of responsibilities to some degree.” Her heels click on the ground a few more times. “So… Jack is going to remain like that in the corner for one hour. When we leave, Sam will take over our watch and ensure that he comments and ridicules Jack for the position he is in now for the entire hour… no breaks or pauses.”

The water sloshes around in the bucket. “Still though… while I cannot strictly enforce pain, discomfort often can go hand in hand with humiliation…”

The sound of splashing water echoes throughout the entirety of the room.

“By splashing water onto his bed, there is no chance his bed will be dry tonight. Once again, Sam will shame Jack for not accepting your request earlier to pee his pants, Tiffany. With any luck, this will provide a long-felt reminder that we should always be obeyed,” she noted and pausing briefly for what seemed like effect. “Now then… any questions?”

*              *              *

So, true to her word, I was left in that corner for an entire hour. With my nose so pressed against the two walls, every minute felt like eternity. All my efforts to pass the time were purely in vain, and worse, when everyone left, Sam took over for them and began to launch several assaults on me within the first thirty minutes of waiting. Thinking back, his language seemed precise and calculated to fit my profile from the government to induce the maximum amount of damage.

“Oh, well look at you… standing in a corner… panties around your ankles,” he observed soon after Ms. Hernandez had left. “I can’t believe someone like you would even make it in the real world. No wonder why you were fired and now no one cares about you enough to even come looking for you! Did you know that? Not a single missing person’s case! Not one!”

His words cut me deep that afternoon for the better part of the remaining hour… but my enforced torment over my refusal to comply wasn’t over yet.

While his jabs at me now died out, my wet bed still grievously awaited. I might have been fine with that, but as I saw it, there were two problems… First, due to my limited selection of points, the bed was the only object I could sit down on that wasn’t the toilet or the floor. Both were hard and cold and seemed completely unappealing for more than a few minutes. Second, though, although I was normally allowed ample clothing whenever I requested it, that one privilege had been revoked.

“Sorry, Jack,” Sam replied, still in his mechanical and monotone voice but now with words laced with regret. “You must sit on the bed at least once and after… I cannot provide you new clothes…” He paused that afternoon for a while… almost as if he was waiting on me first to make a move. Instead, he spoke back up. “I cannot change your fate now, but for the future… please listen to Ms. Hernandez and her students. Please follow their instructions and don’t complain for a single second. This is but a taste of what they can dish out, and the other owners here… they can be much, much worse. Upsetting some of them could result in… damages.”

I wanted to question him shortly after, but right then, I was too terrified to do any of that. I had barely backtalked to the students and I was being punished far more seriously. I wanted to punch myself so hard, but as I sat on my bed with a squish, it was hard to not surrender to the feeling that I should have just wet my panties on the spot as instructed. Terrible, humiliating, and vile… but after, I would have gotten new clothes, no punishment, and some type of reward. When the stakes are so unevenly balanced that way, I felt that even the strongest of candidates would submit easily to the whims of the students more easily… and I guess that was the point. Punishments are meant to teach right from wrong… or at least something along those lines of a lesson for the future. Looking back at the events of the day that afternoon, I had indeed learned their lesson.

Always comply with what they request… no matter what. It’s just not worth it otherwise.

Still, with my lesson learned from that night, I compounded it even further by lying down in my soaked bed and desperately trying to fall asleep. It took forever that night, but eventually I drifted off. Gratefully, the next day when Ms. Hernandez showed up once more, she promised to clean the bed if I simply told her the magic words she wanted to hear from me.

Nodding my head then, I sighed and stared at the floor. “I will always follow what you or your students tell me to do. I will not say no again. I… I’m sorry…”

And that was all it took for me to be forgiven in her eyes. I was rewarded with a scolding, but all followed by a quick hug, a change of my sheets, and stricter control over what the students could do to me that day. Most seemed okay… Tiffany did not.

But things became mostly routine after that for the next two weeks.

I was provided with a makeup kit and mirror by Ms. Hernandez. Before, I was using a pretty cheap one that just had the basics. Now, I have a full kit with brushes, liner, and pretty much every other item one would need for the perfect makeup look. I looked at that thing with disgust… not only that I was expected to use it to maintain my racoon eyes makeup look, but that there was so much in it. Simply put, for me, it just screamed that my racoon eyes were just a taste of what was to come. My stomach twisted a few times over itself when I realized that little notion.

Speaking of makeup… one day about a week later, I silently rebelled and didn’t put on my makeup for two hours. Ms. Hernandez was late that day, and that was likely a good thing. Sam was annoying, but I didn’t hop into a compliant position until the alarm bells and red flashing warning lights started to go off. I tried to ignore them, but once I realized they wouldn’t go off until I complied, I gave in. My ears were still ringing by the time that Ms. Hernandez and her students arrived not long after.

If she noticed anything amiss or knew about it my lack of compliance from Sam, she thankfully didn’t show it.

As for her students… I felt caught between the sadistic brats and the neutral passersby members of the group. The sadists, like Tiffany and her crew, attended to me for the majority of the week. At first, I could find some solace with their arrival as it could potentially mean a nicety in my life in exchange for some small humiliation. It was a transaction, and I made myself think nothing more of it.

But that started changing.

As if they were growing more confident, Tiffany and her friends were growing bolder… more willing to do anything, say anything, or promise anything to me… as long as they got a good show out of it. To all this, I saw a disappointed but ultimately silent Ms. Hernandez watch it all. It was a stark contrast to her demeanor when it was rarely just the two of us, but I just chalked it up to her having to follow her own rules as well. Or… at least had to… for my sanity’s sake if nothing else.

I needed someone I could rely on in my current life.

As for those more on the neutral side of the scale, I sometimes found them even worse. True, they never spat in my face, forced me to wear pink ruffles, or had me call myself a ‘little girl’ or that ‘I was sowwy,’ but their passivity toward my state almost made them worse. I could see the strain on their faces whenever they visited me, but they still elected to do nothing. It might have been different if I knew there was some sort of drawback for them in helping me… but I never found one.

Still, as compared to Tiffany and those like her, they did represent a possible hope. After all, this whole operation was going to last a year. Maybe if I was pushed hard enough, one of them would break. I couldn’t be sure, but again, it was something when I had nothing. So, while my ego hadn’t shattered yet, I felt the pull of the sadist’s sway and humiliations as they began to build under my skin… so pulling in the other direction, I made sure to keep a closer eye on the others… just in case they ever grew a spine and helped me out.

But it was little things like that which kept me going.

A joke here and there. A passive comment form me once they all left. A subtle rebellion of putting off my makeup for only an hour. Small things that were just enough to make me feel better about myself and my situation, but not enough to incur the wrath of those keeping an eye on me.

But it still wasn’t enough.

The boredom was getting to me, and with Ms. Hernandez and her students only being a small thing in my entire day and Sam being a mechanical and unfeeling robotic voice of sorts, I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when I started talking to myself. Nothing major, but it was still something. I hated the look of it, but it allowed me to vent my frustrations and clear my head. Small, but I knew over the course of a year here, even the small things would add up.

But again, it wasn’t enough.

So, yesterday, I broke, and per Tiffany’s earlier enticement, I elected to go for ‘Time Out’ under the ‘Punishments’ section of my points. It was small, but with my punishment earlier with my nose in the corner, I knew I could do it. More importantly though… it gave me points. And let me say it for the record… hearing the machine ding in recognition of my choice and then seeing that total number tally up from ‘2’ to ‘7’ was a special thing. It wasn’t much, but it was a small concession that could give me something more here sometime in the future. By that point, nearly any type of luxury was starting to be seen as a godsend.

But that all brings me to right now… today.

“He’s slipping, Tiffany,” Rebecca informs the central figure to my latest humiliation for a few measly boxes of individual cereal packets.

“Then tie him tighter, Bec!” she nearly spits back at her friend. “I don’t want him coming loose for a second in this. I can see him wiggling all around and I don’t want this to be spoiled!” She leans in with her magic wand vibrator and holds it right to my chastity cage. “Isn’t that right, you little slut?”

I only allow her the satisfaction of a little whimper.

I’m dying for the release. We’ve been at this for a while, but I do just about everything in my power to hold back from edging experience. Ms. Hernandez approved of this whole thing quickly today, but even in my fight against all this, I can see her begin to falter as well.

“Come on, Jessica,” Tiffany repeats for at least the 40^th time today. “I want you to beg me to let you cum! You’re not getting away until you do… and don’t you dare release before I tell you to!”

I bite my tongue to hold back… wincing once more at the girl’s new name for me.

I at least tried to fight the name in my own way when Tiffany first came up with it, but she had been relentless since the start. At first, all the students were calling me ‘Jackie.’ It wasn’t much better, but I at least held onto a tiny ray of dignity with it being so close to ‘Jack.’ Unfortunately, Ms. Hernandez saw that as well...

After only two days of use, she forbade her girls from calling me that. Tiffany seemed already primed with a new name and spouted it less than a minute later. The rest of the sadistic-leaning girls took to it right away. The more neutral ones… they never said a word for me to know if they had even accepted it or not.

Back to today… five minutes later, Ms. Hernadez stands up. “That’s enough, Tiffany. Release his cage and let him cum.” Tiffany hesitates, and my owner sees it right away. “Tiffany… I will not ask you again. You know the consequences if you disobey me here. I’ve been very clear about those.”

Tiffany nearly snarls back but then rolls her eyes and unlocks my cage.

My relief is almost immediate… only to be compounded a second later by the wand shoving directly into me. I can feel the waves of pleasure rocket over me after so long edging.

“Go ahead, little girl…” Tiffany mocks.

I don’t care though. My only focus is what is going on between my legs. My pent-up pressure is immense and not long after, ignoring all else around me, I clench, close my eyes, curl my toes, and release. In a word… the feeling is amazing.

“Very good, Jack,” Ms. Hernandez praises dryly after I come down from my near euphoric state. “Now girls… clean him up and exit this place right after. I will join you shortly…” She then clicks in her heels over to me, before placing one hand on my shoulder. “Jack and I need to have a little chat…”

I gulp in fear, but as has become routine between us, I am mixed with various emotions for how I should feel. Yes, Ms. Hernandez has been the overall director of my humiliation over the past few weeks, but I also can’t help but notice the kindness she shows me at the same time either. Like what she just called me… Jack. It is my name, but it almost feels foreign to hear out loud, having only heard it before from Sam for at least a week now… and he isn’t even alive. Otherwise… it’s just been the nauseating ‘Jessica.’ It’s small, but it’s something.

With the last of her students filing out after cleaning me thoroughly before re-caging me, Ms. Hernandez turns to me and sighs heavily with almost a look of desperation in her face. “Jack… I urge you to increase your point levels… even without the girl’s enticements on the line.”

I stare at her blankly for a moment. “You… you want me to willingly choose to elect more points now? I…” I wince at the notion. “You know what that means for me, right?”

She hesitates but then nods her head. “I do, Jack. I just… your mental health has been noted as showing signs of concern lately. Plus, other candidates have already chosen several of the options to gain more points and are now living in some small amount of comfort at least. Please, Jack…”

I was holding back before with my response… no longer.

“Well… I don’t care about those other people,” I note bluntly. “They could jump off a cliff for all I care. What they do and what I do might as well be a million miles apart for all I care. You’ve seen how to get points here… all are complete crap.” I almost don’t spout out the truth in such a raw way, but my emotions are already triggered by Tiffany and her posse.

“Very blunt, Jack…” she says with an unfeeling yet warm look about her. “Very blunt… but I take your point…” She goes over and sits on my now dry bed before staring back at me. “I guess I need to be upfront with you about who I am normally. Other owners and caregivers here have different backgrounds… even for my ‘humiliation’ position, but me… I’m both a psychologist and sex therapist. I’ve seen glimpses of your footage. Combined with my girls, from what I see on those recordings… I’m worried about you, Jack.”

Again, I see her warmth and genuine concern. It almost reminds me of the looks of the more neutral and passive of her students. For her though, she does make an effort to physically intervene… but I still can’t accept her proposal. “I just… thank you for telling me, but it’s still a no.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that…” She then scratches the back of her head. “If you don’t want to take some of the negatives like the other candidates are doing… you may consider another caretaker and owner. They could become your main person in that role, and you wouldn’t have to endure so many humiliations… or punishments.”

“But she wouldn’t give me rewards, right?” Lately, the rewards, despite how I get them, have been one of my few saving graces. Today’s tiny individual containers of cereal aren’t much but they also help make me feel less like an animal. More… human than guinea pig.

Ms. Hernandez unfortunately nods. “That’s right Jack, and before you say no outright…” she corners me before I can object, “you should know that my students have limits, but they also have it out for you to make you cry and beg them to stop. They will push you to your limits very soon. If they do that but don’t break the rules… I can’t do anything for you. That happens enough and… I’ve seen it before, and the results afterward aren’t pretty.”

Her words strike me as genuine, and I feel a little part of my soul shrivel up in fear over the possibilities. ‘I’m a brave person, but… just what could they do to me? Tiffany seems too clever and vindictive… I don’t like it, but… maybe I listen out at least?’ I sigh. “Go on…”

Ms. Hernandez cracks the faintest smile. “A new main caregiver would give you easy points, a new face to talk to, and you could get more rewards from her. You would still see me a few times a week, but she would be your main person.”

“Sounds easy…” I admit. “But I feel there’s a catch… am I right?”

Ms. Hernandez winces briefly. “Well… sort of. I’ll let you look at her on your selection terminal, but… be aware that if you do select her, you need to wait two weeks at least before you select another one or remove her and the points you gained. It’s one of the few exceptions here in this operation that allows you to do that.”

It’s a lot to think about and I don’t make a sound.

After a moment of silence, Ms. Hernandez stands back up. “Well… I will leave you now. My girls are waiting for me, and I have other candidates to see today. I just… I wanted you to think about that for a moment.” She turns away and almost leaves my cell completely… before turning back towards me with some urgency. “Oh… and just one more thing…”

“Oh?” I look back at her with both curiosity and dread.

“Another way to get points… punishments.” She winces, likely knowing just how crazy that sounds. “I know it might seem extreme but just think about that as well. I mean… you chose timeouts, right? Anything bad from those?” She pauses. “Just think about it… pain can be temporary here, but rewards, even the small ones, can make a big difference in a year’s time around here…”

I had to think about all she had just unloaded on me for a minute, but it didn’t take me long to know that she was right. I just didn’t want to admit it, but… her words were true. I had chosen the extra points, but so far, unless I stepped out of line, I was able to receive those points still without actually feeling the negatives to them. Or if I did, it was for only tiny blips of time… especially when compared to the rest of my time in my cell in any given week around here so far.

Ms. Hernandez, likely sensing my need for some time to think, smiles and waves goodbye to me, leaving me utterly alone with my thoughts… almost.

“Shall we look at her suggestions, Jack?” Sam asks me a few minutes after she leaves, and my cell door once again locks and seals me inside my prison cell. “Looking ahead, some of her suggestions are intriguing. You may want to consider them…”

I didn’t want to. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that all this is somehow a trap. Ms. Hernandez was great when it was just us… no students and no other agenda. Considering her background now, that isn’t so surprising, but with this whole place… my guard is up.

Still, I find myself rising to walk over and at least look at my options.

“That’s a good choice, Jack,” Sam dryly praises me. “Per your ease in this, I have highlighted the ones that I think will work best given your previous rejections of some of the factors. I believe the ones I have selected will allow you to gain points without too many consequences in your future.”

“Thank you, Sam” I reply, stepping closer to the dreaded screen before me. Once again, I know I am tempting fate and choosing my outcomes for the next year. Yes, I could opt out in two weeks if it was truly terrible, but I also know that if I spent the points I gained, I would have to make them up another way. After all, luxuries can’t be returned. And making up points without selecting another caregiver or something extreme, was very difficult. So, as my trembling hand reaches out, I pause.

My mind swirls. ‘Do I really dare even look? I’m strong but if I see the temptations now… I might cave. I might choose something I will regret…’ It’s a tough choice for sure, and every inch of my being knows that. It’s terrible in its temptation, and I nearly touch the screen, but I shake my head. “No… no, I can’t do that…”

“I understand…” Sam replies, nearly a note of disappointment in his mechanical voice through the speaker. “Perhaps another day. I will keep the suggestions highlighted in case you change your mind…”

I can’t give in. Not that the offer isn’t tempting… I just don’t feel I have the personal will to look in the mirror after making some of those decisions. Yes, some items to get me points are minor, but others… If someone else is in my position, I feel pretty confident that they wouldn’t choose the points either. After all, I’m not so desperate that I choose better food in exchange for something like using a baby bottle.

Sam pauses for a moment as if he is storing or calculating something in his processors behind his decision making… almost as if he is making a note to someone for future studies. I want to inquire, but his gravelly clinking voice soon came back on. “Now, would you like to do the debrief today, or would you like to wait for a little bit until maybe after you eat?”

“No… we can do it now,” I say with a sigh, turning away from the screen in front of me. “Better to just get it over with quickly…”

“And while it’s fresh on your mind,” Sam notes, likely in an attempt to add to the positives of the doing the debrief now… but only managing to sting me a little bit on today’s exchanges. The tiny individual cereal boxes to my left on the bed are evidence of that.

“Yes…” I sigh again and turn around to sit on my bed and begin the debrief. As I begin, a sinking feeling starts to take hold of me. First, I feel that Ms. Hernandez is right. Saying the day out loud of what just happened to me… I definitely feel that her students are becoming more vicious and tempting. Second though, as I saw it all and see the screen before me once again as I reference the bargains… I begin to think one thing, ‘How much longer can I say no?’ I’m not a weak person, but under such conditions, holding out forever just seems impossible. Still, I know I have to try until I no longer can withstand the temptation sitting right at my fingertips.

[SkippyYote]

I'm slowly getting hooked on this story. I think many of your readers would enjoy it if they are patient and wait for Jack to make some changes. It started a bit slow, and is definitely out of the norm compared to your other works, but it holds promise.

[LostBBoyBear]

13 hours ago, SkippyYote said:

I'm slowly getting hooked on this story. I think many of your readers would enjoy it if they are patient and wait for Jack to make some changes. It started a bit slow, and is definitely out of the norm compared to your other works, but it holds promise.

I'm glad to hear it. I knew this story was going to be different as soon as I actually fleshed it out and I realized that the beginning was going to be slower than I would normally like to do with these. I almost contemplated a show on the monitors of another candidate being killed by trying to escasape in the first week but it felt a little hollow and clashed with the other plot elements. That being said... I think things are going to start picking up very soon. A choice was presented to Jack after all...

[babydavy99]

The story is a little slow to start, but I am interested to see where is goes. Please keep them comings...I have enjoyed a number of your stories

[LostBBoyBear]

Hey everyone!

Another chapter up today, but I will try very hard to post another chapter tomorrow night… at least to keep the pace going. I do appreciate several of your comments, and I also fully acknowledge the slowness of the first chapters. As I noted before, I almost added in a subplot of a candidate being killed, but I didn’t add it in this time. In future edits, I made add this back in at the end of a chapter… but that’s still a long ways off.

For now, just as a reminder, a new one 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 of my story!

Chapter 6: Giving In and Lining Up

I am weak… I am ashamed… I feel broken. Simply put, I caved.

I tried desperately to hold off from electing anymore points, but that’s much easier to say than do. To a speck of my pride, day after day, I resisted and only gave into the here and now demands of Ms. Hernandez and her students. I was getting pretty successful at it too. Each day there was another humiliation and temptation for the election of something else permanent in my new life, but I held back. Learning my lesson previously, I of course complied with all their other requests, and they started to add up, but my resolve was steady.

But it was a losing game.

Ms. Hernandez, her students, and Sam all pounded against me and my will to say ‘no’ seemingly whenever they got a chance to bring up getting more points. For Ms. Hernandez and her students, their time with me was intense but limited. They would promise me nearly everything but my freedom from this if I only gave in. I remembered that for them, if I said yes, they would get extra credit in their class. Tiffany and her posse already received some after I chose the ‘Time Out’ punishment and gained five easy points. Now, their efforts have seemingly increased to get me to cave into electing options for more points.

But I could still live with it and resisted fully.

Sam however… he was a different matter. The difference was… he was a constant in my life. When we first started together, I would have begged him for anything just to have a real conversation. Some break from the boredom. Even if it was discussing moral philosophy, I would have preferred that over the silence. Now though, he was taking a new approach.

While his conversations were still limited in scope, they became more frequent. More reminders, more instructions from Ms. Hernandez while she was away… more comments on my appearance. Sam was the first to note when my hair dropped below my eyes one day after one of my ‘showers.’ I tried to deny it that day, but when I kept having to move it out of my face later, Sam was right on me, impressing on the fact that my hair had in fact gotten longer… a fact he absolutely shared with Ms. Hernandez… who then shared it with her students. The name of Jessica was stuck in my life for the foreseeable future after that little revelation.

Regardless of that though, each time Sam spoke to me through his rusty and crackly speaker system, he would always drop a hint of electing something new. Most of the time, it was subtle and slyly added… almost as if he had several prepared responses in speaking to me to bring it up. I would mention water and he would note the strange aftertaste may go away if I sought better accommodation than my current jail cell with more points. Or I might discuss something such as my sheer boredom and Sam would mention getting more luxuries ‘if only I had more points.’ Seemingly overnight, those words were becoming my anthem.  

Finally… one day after Tiffany was particularly cruel to me, I saw my pitiful life after five weeks. I could feel my bones as I pressed on my skin at night trying to will myself to sleep on my uncomfortable bed. I was ready to start talking to my shadow on the dank and cold wall. It seemed to me like suddenly and all at once, I broke in the understanding of just how permanent all this was… and that it wasn’t going to get any better.

Unless I elected to choose more points.

But I held off, until earlier today that is… because, well, I was talking to myself. More specifically, someone walked in as I was talking to myself. She was the first girl in the room, and the others were lagging behind. It was just my luck that it happened to be the same student that had previously shown me kindness. Instantly, I saw that she knew that I was just talking to myself.

Instead of being like Tiffany and making fun of me for it, she simply smiled and then pressed her finger to her mouth before coming over and moving a large portion of my hair out of my eyes.

I only had enough time to smile back before Tiffany and the others joined in.

They questioned what just happened for a moment, but with a few prompts from Ms. Hernandez, the nice student moved back passively, and Tiffany took over as usual. Today, I’m subjected to watching a video on ballet lessons and tried to follow along for 30 minutes in order to get a decent veggie burger tonight. It’s not a great deal, but I didn’t say ‘no’ to anything anymore either.

Next, another group of students took over my daily humiliations. They weren’t as bad as Tiffany and her friends, but their mischievousness wasn’t lacking either. This time, if I sang ‘I’m a Little Teapot’ or yelled out that ‘My Name Is Jessica’ three times, I would get a pair of fuzzy socks. Small luxury, but both humiliations would be over in less than a few minutes at most.

I couldn’t remember the lyrics to ‘I’m a Little Teapot’ though… so I sighed. “My name is Jessica! My name is Jessica! My name is Jessica!” I shouted out loud, much to the amusement of most everyone in the room. It wasn’t great, but it was all over… until the nice girl stayed behind.

“Hold out your hand,” she nearly whispered to me.

I did as she instructed.

Smiling, she placed small black elastic hair band in my hand. “Just in case for the future. Consider it a bonus from Tiffany and her friends. I already okayed it with Ms. Hernandez… like a bonus in case they go overboard or have a lack of reward for their demands.”

“Oh… I…” I blushed. “Thank you.” I hated how the hair tie was something special to me now, but admittedly, my hair was getting long in places. Plus, with so few things to my name anymore, the small items I was receiving as well were stacking up quickly.

But I think that little moment, however nice, shifted something inside of me. I was bargaining things away, but my deals were terrible. I had a hunger to better my life, and as had been drilled into me, more points were needed. Something had to give, and I doubted that it would be Ms. Hernandez, most of her students, or the system itself… which left me.

*              *              *

It’s a terrible choice, but now in my bed with everyone else gone, I have been reflecting on my choices since the students and Ms. Hernandez last pitched the idea of more points to me once more. Now, mere hours after I was left alone, I sigh deeply and drag myself over to the device, knowing what I have to do. I don’t like it, but I know that my options are limited. So, I click on the screen and soon see the various options I could choose from. Sam, as he had noted previously, had chosen the least objectionable… but I know with confidence that a notion like that is all relative here. I know I am going to need to sacrifice something. That’s just how all this works.

I despise it and myself… but I need something more.

So, as I look at the options before me, only one really stands out as the least objectionable of the bunch. Yes, I could choose something that is another personal humiliation or knock down of my pride. I might get more points, but I can’t help but remember my situation and the major fact that I am going to be here for another ten months and nearly three weeks. I don’t want to choose, but I look around me once more… the bare jail cell walls and my creaky bed as literal painful reminders that I can’t sustain this much longer.

So, at the end of the day, I choose ‘Roll Call.’

It isn’t very clear about the details though. That makes me nervous above all else, but it does thank fully note two things… both of which however make me even more uneasy. First, my first roll call will commence the following day before Ms. Hernandez and her students return. Second, and most importantly though, I will see other candidates and they will see me.

*              *              *

The next morning, I have to admit to myself that it was nice to see my points tick up the five points last night to now a total of 12. At the same time though, when I wake up, I am already feeling queasy. I don’t want my longer hair or racoon eyes to be seen by potentially nineteen other guys. During the night, I had a few nightmares about it, and now, I realize to my horror of just what I chose.

“Good morning, Jack,” Sam greets me as usual. “Big day today. First day of roll call…” His words nearly seem to hover in the air like an axe waiting to drop and fall on my head.

“Yeah, yeah…” I feel like I want to puke, so I rush over to the sink and douse my head under the faucet. The water has a slight metallic taste to it, and it leaves white crusty stains in the pools where it dries, but it’s still water and I still feel refreshed. “Ah! That’s better.”

“Good, Jack. You need to be feeling good today,” Sam warns me. “Roll call can be very easy to participate in, but you also need to both look your best and follow every rule to the letter. Any backtalk, rule breaking, or bits of your appearance out of line can have severe consequences… even more than the punishments you’ve elected.”

The queasy feeling comes back in a second. “Worse?” I ask hesitantly, clutching my stomach slightly to try and alleviate the feeling I’m getting there now.

“Yes,” Sam confirms. “They may ask you to stand at attention… your back straight up against the wall as much as you can. Physical limitations, well… they are calculated in, but they aren’t generally always accepted fully… at least depending on who you get.”

My mind is swarming with a million and one questions. “Wait, wait… hold it. Sam… what do you mean by ‘physical limitations’ and ‘who I get?’ Is there something I don’t know that you do? Should I not have chosen this punishment?” I begin to sputter out. “I… I…”

“Jack!” Sam is more forceful in his words this time. More and more, I see a change in my robotic overseer… more human almost, but not always in the greatest of ways. “Please… take a breath and let me explain…”

I nod and sit on my bed, already feeling a wave of dizziness beginning to eclipse my body.

“Very good. Just keep breathing.” The speaker clicks a few times. “Now… to answer your questions, yes… there are a great many things I know that you don’t. It is the simple nature of this operation, but what I can tell you I will.” There’s a brief pause. “First, physical limitations. Jack… have you noticed your body lately?”

It’s a straightforward question and I almost wince as I look down once more at my frame of a body now. I was never a jock or a truly athletic kid, but I wasn’t exactly overweight either. Now though… as I had felt in my sleep before, my body is undeniably slimming considerably. Apparently, the soup and even the little treats I had been given weren’t enough to keep my physique in top shape. I had tried to exercise early on, even as a way to pass the time, but again, I just didn’t have the energy even then. In truth, there was a little part of me back then that wondered if it was in an effort to keep candidates weak… less likely to escape. Regardless, seeing my body today, my answer is inevitable.

I look back up at Sam. “I… I guess I didn’t want to fully look, but…”

“Your physical capabilities aren’t ideal anymore,” Sam informs me bluntly. “It’s to be expected in your current conditions, but I would highly suggest you try your best to complete any of the orders or tasks they give you. Because secondly, the ‘person you get’ is evaluating you. Yes, they are there to ensure your compliance, but also to see your needs.”

“Needs?” I think back quickly to Ms. Hernandez. ‘Isn’t she supposed to be doing that?’

“Yes, Jack,” Sam slowly confirms. “Your needs in here. This operation can be extreme, but the government doesn’t want to kill you. Quite the opposite, but… it also acknowledges that not all options are exactly safe. So, when you elect roll call, they will have someone there to check on you. If you collapse or they see excessive bruising or if you can’t move or drool on yourself; the operation will… simply put, ‘intervene.’”

Sam’s words explain a lot, but they also fill me with a lot of questions as well. ‘Intervene? What the hell is that supposed to mean? And bruising? Ms. Hernandez and her students are humiliating me all the blasted time, but… no bruises. Shit! Is there someone else that could do that? Will her students simply ramp up and by the end of the year they can hurt me or cause me pain?’ I wince at all the implications my frazzled mind comes up with.

Sam either doesn’t notice or at least chooses not to. “Now then… let’s get you ready for roll call. Again, I can make suggestions if you wish. Would you like that?”

I never like Sam’s suggestions, but also… with the inspection, the following of rules, and all the other little things with roll call that I don’t even know about yet, I feel I have no choice in the matter if I want to avoid the potential punishments that could be lobbed my way. “I… I… yes, Sam. Please help me.”

Sam complies readily with my acceptance, and I soon find myself once again looking just like I would on inspection from Ms. Hernandez and her students. Full cheerleading uniform, red lacy panties, and my near-perfected racoon eyes. I hate how good I’ve gotten at that in the past few weeks.

“Very good, Jack,” Sam compliments me as I finish the last bit of mascara to complete my look. “Now… wait by the door. You will hear it click like that happens with Ms. Hernandez but then exit out and go to the end of the hallway. You can’t miss the door down there. If you do or deviate from the path, I will remind you.”

I only nod and face the door. As soon as the lock clicks, I exit and make it down to the end of the hallway, just beyond the room where Ms. Hernandez and her students pile on my daily humiliations. That door has a ‘HR’ emblazoned on the front. The last door to the hallway has ‘RC’ right below my number ’35-01.’ My name ‘Jessica’ isn’t great, but ‘35-01’ was definitely worse when it was actually being used.

I hear another click. “Go forward and buckle yourself onto the cart on the other side,” Sam instructs from yet another speaker above me. “Do not attempt to jump off at any time. Penalties for that type of escape will be punished… severely.”

I gulp, but again, hear the click and soon push through the door. There, I come before a long corridor underground with a single platform-like cart waiting for me simply.

“Jack… can you hear me?” Sam questions through another speaker in the cart in front of me.

“I… yes,” I acknowledge as I take my seat after scraping my jaw off the floor. Before, I thought I was just in a tiny little space… maybe a few others kept nearby. Now, seeing the enormity of the tunnel before me, I now question the whole scope of this project. It’s humbling to say the least.

As soon as I buckle in, I feel the cart push forward. A slight breeze ruffles through my hair, now pulled back as much as possible with the hair band I got yesterday. The front still appears shaggy but the rear… definitely into ponytail territory now.

“Good job for your compliance, Jack,” Sam notes through the speaker once again. “I will stay with you until the cart comes to a stop. Once that happens, another person will guide you to the appropriate door. Do not under any circumstances deviate from where they tell you to go. Again, the consequences will be severe.”

I gulp again and nod in my understanding. At the same time though, as the cart pushes along, no faster than maybe five miles an hour, I see other tracks soon join mine with most leaving from other doors… these labeled as ‘35’ to start with as well, but also followed by ‘02,’ ‘03,’ ‘04,’ ‘05’ even going up to 10 before the cart stops. There, already parked, are four other carts identical to mine.

“Step forward, 35-01,” a fully geared person shouts at me while pointing to a nearby door. “You’re late but proceed through the doors and don’t stop.”

I almost ask him questions, but his finger nearly snaps in my direction back over to the door… so I comply and push on through.

On the other side, I see what essentially amounts to two columns, each divided into what looks like about 10 spaces each. Each space is labeled with a number, but I notice right away that it isn’t the ’01,’ ’02,’ or any of the other numbers I saw coming here. Instead, I see the point totals increase by ‘5.’ It doesn’t take me long to remember and then realize that these numbers were our starting points.

“You!” A woman shouts at me after looking up from her clipboard and nearly running over to me. “You’re late! Confirm your number and name.”

I blink back at her, still a little shocked over what I am seeing, especially of the candidates occupying the spaces. It also doesn’t help that I hear a few sniggers before me, but the cleared throat in front of me disturbs me more. “Sorry!” I apologize with nearly a snap in my step. “35-01. Jack Marie Thomas.”

“Marie? Are you kidding me?” one of the candidates on the higher numbered spaces questions with a chuckle behind his words. It doesn’t take long to see either that he hasn’t been affected… at least outwardly. “Suits you, princess! Shit! What a…”

“Travis!” the woman in front of me yells at him, eliciting almost a look of terror on his face. “I normally call others by their names here. Not a good start that I already know yours…” she huffs with her hands now on her hips. “Now then… what did I tell you earlier when you snickered at some of your other candidates?”

He winces. “To not do it…” He flinches a little. “S… sorry, ma’am.”

“Hmmm…” Her gaze narrows in on him. “Perhaps I might have been too lenient on you earlier. Will definitely need to inform Miss Allenson of your refusal to listen the first time around. I’m sure she’ll have something appropriate to… adjust your behavior.”

Travis looks like he’s about to protest the action to inform ‘Miss Allenson,’ but he quickly stops himself and only casts his gaze down toward his number… ‘65.’

Regardless of his fear or shame though, seemingly satisfied, the woman turns back to me. “Now then… Jack… remember this. You will now be known here by either your first name or your designated number. For you… that’s ’05,’ understand?”

I quickly nod back without a word.

Apparently satisfied with that simple response only, she then eyes me up and down. “Hmmm… not sure I like what I’m seeing completely, but good presentation though…” She grimaces for a moment. “Still… I might encourage you to choose something… well, more in the future. Though… good job for today.” Her eyes seem to flicker briefly, almost as if she sees something else to her displeasure but once again to my relief, ultimately does nothing about it.

“Okay…” She looks down at her clipboard before looking back up at me. “My name is Lennox. Miss Lennox. Any other names I go by… well, you’ll just find those out as we go. If you have a question… ask it. If you see me doing something wrong… ask it. You are the at least 320^th candidate that I’ve seen come through these dark doors. Part of this is your job. My job…” She gestures down the line. “Is to check each you once… maybe twice a week, understood?”

“Y… yes, Miss Lennox,” I stammer out, much to the amusement of others. I blush but gratefully, Miss Lennox doesn’t notice or simply doesn’t comment on it.

“Good.” She then snaps to the rest of the line and begins to walk up and down it. “Now, candidates… since some of you are new from last week, let’s go over the rules, shall we?”

As she prattles off the basic rules, something that Sam graciously already informed me of when I was applying my makeup, I look down the rows, being far more distracted by what I see there than listening to say please and thank you in her presence or that she was the top authority here.

So, looking down, I see that very plainly, the row in front of me is prim and proper. Most are fully guys… they almost look like they’re not even a part of this program with some even sporting beards or at least stubble. I had some growth at first, but Ms. Hernandez seemed upset with it one day and Sam suggested shaving every day afterward now. Looking back toward the other line, granted, I know looks can be deceiving, but each of them shows a stark contrast with those in my row.

Looking down at those in line on my side though, I nearly see a horrifying portent of my future.

I don’t know names, but the stenciled in large white letters on the floor at least give me a reference point for several of the ones closest to me. Some spots are empty, but the ones I see don’t ease my feeling of dread. ‘15’ doesn’t look wholly bad… though I do notice a pair of earrings and an accompanying skirt. ‘20’ had long hair like me, but there was also something soft about their features. Not quite feminine but definitely took the typical masculine edge either. ‘10’ though… even with five more points than me to start with, they were looking pretty rough as well. Skinny, unkempt, wavering, and accompanying several feminine items on their person… including a bolder look of makeup on their face. Looking beyond… I even saw a few that appeared worse… especially the one with the thicker padding around their butt and crotch areas.    

I remember Sam and Ms. Hernandez noting that several others had taken punishments and drawbacks already, but seeing them all like this now… I see just where my fate might lead. Of course, I also need to contend with the fact that they all seemingly have more than me… such as better clothing or more meat on their bones, but contrarily… some look forever changed already. Gazing down at my own body, I think I could be fine with just a haircut, a good therapy session, and some decent food for a few weeks. ‘40’ on the end of our line though seems as if they now have a nearly fully feminine figure… not something to just whisk away in a single weekend.

It puts a fear in my heart I can’t shake.

Unfortunately, my stupor sets in a little too long. I’m so distracted by everything I’m seeing that I don’t notice what Miss Lennox is asking others to do… nor do I see when she stops right in front of me… at least until it’s far too late already.

“’05!’” she screams in my face, me suddenly now noticing her presence before me. “I gave you all a task to accomplish. And now… I’ve been standing here for at least 30 seconds for you to get your head out of your butt and still nothing. It’s your first day, but I’m sure you heard me and know what to do, right?”

I wince and look up the line for any clues or hints of what she’s talking about. Unfortunately, and knowing this place, helping me now is probably punishable… so I see nothing. Swallowing and turning back to Miss Lennox, I feel about an inch tall under her gaze. “I… I don’t know, ma’am.” I remember with Ms. Hernandez that the truth is always best in the long term.

Several other candidates snicker.

Miss Lennox casts them a dark look and the snickers subside… but she then turns back to me with nearly a snap of her neck. “Lift your skirt, ’05!’” she thunders, gesturing to my cheerleading outfit.

I definitely don’t want to, but what’s more… I’m confused. Having looked at several of the punishments before, I know there is an option within roll call where one can elect for five more points if they were to show off their skirt for inspection. I was tempted by it… but I didn’t choose it.

“But I…” I stammer out. “I…”

But Miss Lennox isn’t listening and snarls before whacking me on the leg with her sturdy clipboard. “You insolent, brat! I say to do something, and you do it! You only get the points if you comply!”

Immediately fearing that maybe I missed the fine print or something, which is sadly a reality of this place when electing options around here, I know I need to comply. Five points isn’t much, but I know it all adds up. So, with trembling fingers, I lift my skirt.

Several other candidates laugh at the sight underneath.

I burn in shame and Miss Lennox sees this. “Awww! What a cute pair of panties you’ve got on there, Jack. Or…” She smiles wickedly back at me. “Do you maybe have another name?”

Again, compliance. It dictates so many of my actions since I’ve been here. It changes everything about my life. I know if I don’t, so many things could be forfeited or thrust on me. I know the roll call is also classified as a punishment, so I know that anything bad here only gets amplified later. I haven’t heard those exact words, but it’s just pure logic by now.

Right before I can speak though, a guard to the rear comes up with a tablet of his own and taps my current tormentor on the shoulder. “Miss Lennox? Hold on… I think you should see this…”

She twirls around and looks as if she wants to eat the guard alive. Instead, she glares at the tablet in his hands. In a second, her glare softens. “Oh… he didn’t elect that option. Strange…”

She snaps back at me and nearly wipes her hand over the front of my skirt, pulling it down and once again concealing my panties. Her momentary soft gaze switches back to something sterner. “Well… that’s a folly on my part, but… you also need to learn to speak up with things like that. Since it is your first day, I will compensate you with a cookie… but know in the future, if a mistake happens and you know about it… like you clearly did today but also don’t do anything about it… you won’t be so lucky. Understood?”

I’m awash with confusion, but I’m just relieved that I now have an out if there’s a mistake, that I have a cookie for later, and that maybe she will remember and not have to do this whole thing again. Still… as I nod in acknowledgment, I see the judgmental or sympathetic faces around me. Simply put, I know that the damage has already been done.

After the giggles die down and she composes herself once more from her own mistake, Miss Lennox makes a few more announcements and then ushers us back out the doors. I notice that the higher numbers go down one hallway, and the others and I go back down another… the six other carts I saw coming in here. But I’m now in the clear.

Or so I thought…

“’05!” Miss Lennox shouts back at me. “Hold on one moment!”

I freeze and wince. ’10’ looks back at me with sympathy but ultimately moves on. Hearing the tapping of a foot though, I take a breath and turn back around to face Miss Lennox. I already feel a nauseous feeling bubbling back up in my stomach. “Yes, Miss Lennox?”

She clicks over to me and stops only about an arm’s length away. “Part of my job here is to check you all and make sure that everything is above board and that your owners or caregivers, who are supposed to take care of you in the meantime, are also following their jobs. Another part though…”

She then presents a tablet in front of me that I saw earlier from one of the nearby guards. “Is to monitor your file and your overall performance here. Ms. Hernandez… and any others in the future, do attend to this as well, but I’ve noticed they go for more of a large view of things. So… I look at the small things…”

Her finger then points to several red notations on my listed file. “You see these?”

I nod, trying to deduce all of what they were saying.

“It seems you have tallied up quite a number of infractions since you first came here. Since Day 1 actually according to your chart here.” She taps a few times on her tablet before looking back at me. “You know what that means, right?”

I feel a slight trembling in my knees. I do, but I’m still hoping beyond measure that I’m wrong. “No?”

Miss Lennox smiles and steps closer to me. “I think you do, Jack. Knowing Ms. Hernandez and her little band of hellions she brings with her this go around, I definitely think you do.”

I swallow hard. “Punishment…”

“That’s right…” She smiles and looks back at her tablet. “Seems like you’ve already elected the time out option. Shame really… you could have gotten some extra points from me… even more than what’s listed on your tablet. Oh well.”

“More points?” I ask, hating myself for even probing into something like that.

“Correct, Jack,” she confirms. “I can give out extra points to good little candidates whenever I feel like it. And because these are just minor infractions, I could just ignore them… but someone might get upset at me. So, I made a bargain with myself for a few conditions around here. First one is that if anyone falls victim to needing a punishment initially for minor infractions, I vowed that I would give them extra points.” She smirks back at me with a hint of resignation in her demeanor. “But as I said though… oh well.”

I fume at the prospect, feeling one hundred percent certain that she’s only teasing me now and not actually saying what would have happened. That could be a blatant personal lie… but it’s one I need to maintain. With so few initial points and still few to my name right now, the prospect of having more points and then losing that opportunity feels like just too much.

So, I don’t think about it.

Even on my way back to my cart, I don’t think about it. Even through the tunnel back to my jail cell once more, I don’t think about it. Even as I pass through the doors and come to the larger bunk that has been my home recently, I don’t think about it. And I definitely don’t think about it when the jail cell door slams shut with a loud clang and then clicks locked until my next torment… I don’t think about it.

When I find myself with my nose buried in the corner once again though… I think about it.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” Sam apologizes a few moments into my new punishment. “As a reminder though, you have to stand in that corner for 15 minutes without moving or saying one word. But also…” There’s a brief crackling pause from the speakers. “I’m sorry, but I create a log of all your activities. I thought I was creative enough to hide some of your infractions, but… I was wrong.”

I don’t say anything, but my thoughts correlate into a stream of regrets and ponderances. ‘Crud. My one constant companion in this dump and he’s a rat. I don’t even know what I did wrong, but… shit.’ It’s all adding up to a further dive into the pits of my problems in this place. I know it… Sam knows it… Ms. Hernandez knows it. ‘I… I need to make more changes around here. I hate it like hell, and I would rather step on a Lego piece barefooted, but… I can’t keep this up. I’m losing anyways. What’s a few more humiliations? What would have been the extra five points just to show off my panties. I mean… I did that anyways. Why…?’ I shake my head.

‘No Jack… no.’ I want to hit myself for that brief lapse. It makes me nervous about the future, but I can’t give in more. ‘That would only spell disaster and I can’t go further. You saw all the others today. That can’t be yo…’

“Warning! Violation” Sam mechanically blares out. “Jack… I told you. No speaking, but also no moving for 15 minutes. I cannot change the rules, and I’m sorry, but you moved just then. Not much, but I still have to count it. Now, the timer needs to start over.”

‘Shit.’ I see that I’m in a no-win scenario. ‘Maybe if I just keep my head down? Maybe if I just keep saying yes?’ I think of more solutions, but each is worse than the last. I see my future and it’s bleak. Something more needs to change… I just don’t know what. Otherwise, I don’t see myself lasting ten more weeks, let alone ten more months of this place.

[SkippyYote]

Jack is gonna break if he doesn't start asking the right questions and make some changes.

[LostBBoyBear]

Hey everyone!

Apologies for the dela in getting up this chapter. Was planning on only a five-to-six-mile hike on Saturday, but I read the map wrong… ended up taking a ten-mile hike instead. Oops. But passed out that night and got back from a family event on Sunday night way too late to edit this properly.

Just as a reminder, a new one 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 of my story!

Chapter 7: The Next One Has to Be Better, Right?

Get up in the morning. Wash myself off with a pesky and overbearing crackling speaker dictating where to wash and where to scrub harder. Dry off and then sit down and put makeup on with a makeup look now perfected from weeks of applying it yourself, the pesky mechanical voice telling you what to do, and the fear of reprisal if it does look wrong. Then dress in a set of red lacy panties and a cheerleading uniform… one that now hangs from a thin and sore body from the creaky bed the night before.

That is my routine.

Everyday without fail, I’m forced to do these things over and over again. Sam works fine but I don’t think I could ever see him as a friend now. Ever since he ratted me out to Miss Lennox and the operation here, I’ve become dismissive of him in nearly every situation. Ms. Hernandez was informed about this and while she even formed a smile over my attitude toward him, she also kept a tight upper lip by performing her duty against me briefly with a stent of having my nose once again pressed into the corner of my cell. It wasn’t much, and throughout, I felt somewhat vindicated that I wasn’t the only one that seemed to find Sam at least a little annoying.

Of course, Ms. Hernandez still came everyday with her students… Tiffany and her friends becoming bolder each time they arrived at my cell. Now, there wasn’t a week that I wasn’t being stripped mostly naked, mocked viciously, but that they weren’t chastised themselves. Apparently, they were starting to push the limits of what was allowed. Less than two months in, it made me worried about the end game with this lot, but I had other things to worry about now.

Namely, my election of the roll call.

True, I was acting as a standout candidate during roll call now. Aside from my initial lack of attention and my minor infractions, I adhered to every rule Miss Lennox and another crotchetier inspector, Mrs. Balson, laid down. Sometimes I just wanted to sit rather than stand at attention, but I suppressed those thoughts as much as I could. What worried me though, was seeing my fellow candidates.

Seeing them, I almost saw sneak peaks of what my future could be to some extent. Yes, I had chosen what was easiest for me, but others might have viewed the options differently… almost like a choice between vanilla or chocolate ice cream. What I deemed as too exotic maybe, another person would choose as the lesser of their own personal problems now.

The ‘upper 50’ line, as I came to know them, showed few outward signs of problems. From their adherence to the rules and almost a twinge of fear in their eyes when threatened after sniggering at us ‘lower 50,’ I knew there was more to them than met the eye… especially with ‘55’ and ‘70’. For some reason, both seemed more skittish than the others… even more so than some in my own line.

But they were the exception.

My line though… everyone was showing signs of change or their elected punishments or alterations. Several of us had clearly chosen the ‘Extreme Hair Growth Option,’ but I saw more than that as well. As Sam had noted, more than one of the punishments and long-term effects could be chosen, and seeing a few with what appeared to be figures more fleshed out in certain areas, I could only guess what else they had elected.

Other options were more obvious.

Some sported dresses… some shirts of pink and skirts full of frills. Considering that Ms. Hernandez definitely had others, I only could surmise that she and her students were offering different items to others. Others had pierced ears, braids in their hair… some even wore long dresses and had painted nails. It varied for a few of them and almost as if to punctuate our differences… I noticed some wore definitely wearing a diaper. I couldn’t judge them, especially with my previously revealed lacy red panties, but it made me curious as to why someone would even go that way. There were so many other options, but… at the end of the day, I tried to put it out of my mind.

Still, despite my adherence to the rules there, I still felt like I was losing.

More specifically, I was losing on the front to keep my masculinity above the surface still with each of the daily humiliations and changes now being thrust on me… willingly or otherwise. Yes, I knew I was still a guy… that wasn’t in question in my own mind. This stupid program hadn’t removed that from my head, and I prayed that it never would, but each morning, I saw the mirror was telling a different story… especially after the events I chose to occur last week.

Since my first roll call, I had been curious about my minor infractions, so I started to push more to find out just what these were. Sadly, and more frustratingly, Sam was actually pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing. Finally, though, I pushed Ms. Hernandez and while she didn’t give me all of them, she did inform me that makeup placement on my face had to be done within 30 minutes of me waking up. Lately, I had been pushing the envelope for just how far I could stretch my time without getting into trouble. Before realizing it was an infraction to wait, I was up to about 95 minutes without my makeup.

Trying to find every way not to be further punished, I relented and began applying my makeup right after I showered instead of waiting.  

But it never felt enough and my infractions, as usually informed by Miss Lennox at the end of roll call, kept piling up. I was losing privileges I once took in daily in compensation for these. I could tell that Ms. Hernandez didn’t want to, but I knew she had rules to follow as well. So, removing my emotions from the equation, I elected a sub-option. It wouldn’t gain me any points, but from when I announced, Miss Lennox, Ms. Hernandez, and even some of her students seemed happy. I knew it was a step in the right direction, but it still hurt me as I entered the procedure room. It didn’t take long to complete once I was under, but once I woke up, I asked for a mirror.

I looked into it and there, staring right back at me, were my racoon eyes… now semi-permanently applied.

It was absolutely the nuclear option, but I was tired of applying my makeup every morning. The slightest fault could be considered an infraction, and I knew that there was always the possibility of Sam breaking down and that I would somehow forget and be punished even more. Plus, with my hair growing longer and longer… to the point where I stopped even tracking how long it was and just started putting it up in my hair tie, I was just grateful to not to have to add ‘applying makeup’ to my list of chores anymore. I was bargaining that I was being told the truth and that it could be removed after this whole operation was over, but I needed something more in my life and I didn’t have many options open to me to get that.

So, I vowed to take the chance whenever opportunity might knock… even during events like today.  

“Now, bark for me little doggy!” Tiffany cruelly taunts me from her position high above as she looks down with pleasure in her eyes. She briefly plays with the tail she cruelly inserted into my butt. It bounces along with every moment I make.

I feel her touch and look back up at her, knowing I have no choice today but to follow along with whatever she wants from me. “Arf! Arf!” It’s yet another humiliation that she’s poured on recently. I hate her with a fiery passion… I think more than any other person I’ve ever known in my life by now. Ms. Hernandez continually seems uncomfortable with her student’s actions, but Tiffany also seems to know very well where the line is from cruelty to breaking the rules… and never crosses it. In a way, that’s great for me, but in another… she’s still here and employing her dastardly tactics.

Today, I’m her little doggy.

“Okay, now lick the bowl,” she instructs, kicking over a little metal bowl on the floor over to me.

I look at the dish with contempt and humiliation… I know by now the exact emotions that Tiffany is trying to extract from me. Ms. Hernandez was the owner associated with humiliation of the four I had seen, but Tiffany seemed more of the master by now. She clearly took pleasure in what she did here and today was no exception.

I see that, and once again, I look over to Ms. Hernandez for help.

She looks back at me with sympathy and no small amount of disgust at her student’s actions. I can tell she wants to intervene, but Tiffany is careful and still hasn’t crossed the line. Even if that means me acting like a dog in front of everyone here and drinking from a dog bowl… she can do nothing according to the rules.

Whimpering a little, a crawl over to the dog bowl and lower my head to the rim, the water inside cool and refreshing but still in a serving dish meant for a dog. The pink studded collar Tiffany placed around my neck and the dog ears she added onto my head, only further my humiliation and the image now being presented before everyone today.

Again though, I know I have no choice.

So, with closed eyes, I lower my face closer and closer… and stick out my tongue. I wince briefly and begin to lap up the water, splashing the excess liquid around my face and making a mess on the floor at the same time. I am beyond humiliated today… particularly with the taunts and giggles now bouncing off the walls.

“Go little doggy!” one shouts.

“Lap up that water like the good boy you are!” one jeers. “Maybe a treat afterward?”

“Oh yeah… shake that butt while you drink that water…” one says with a draw and a pleasure that sticks into my brain like hot tar full of metal barbs.

Tiffany then comes over and smiles as she pats me on the top of my head. “That’s a very good little doggy.” She turns to her fellow classmates. “Isn’t that right, everyone? Hasn’t our little Jessica been such a good little doggy today? But…” She pauses and yanks up on my collar.

I see the stares all around me and I swallow… partially because the force is pressing up against my throat but also partially from just the fear of it all… what more she could do to me.

“Does she deserve her treat though?” Tiffany questions mockingly with a gleam of perverse pleasure glistening in her eyes, also choosing to solely refer to me as a girl now…

“Just give him the reward already,” one of the girls from the back of the room pipes up.

All eyes shoot to the location.

But it isn’t obvious, and Tiffany becomes enraged quickly. “Who said that? Who the fuck said that?”

This time, Ms. Hernandez does stand up. “Well… I guess that’s our cue to leave for the day.” Tiffany almost yells at her, but Ms. Hernandez only flashes a deadly serious look back at her… silencing her once and for all today. “Now then…” She turns back to her girls and smiles broadly. “That will be all for today… please take your things and exit through our usual door.”

One by one, not wanting to incur the wrath of their teacher, the students make their way out in a mostly orderly fashion. There’s a few who stumble or stare dumbly down at my defeated form on the floor… still nearly completely naked.

Except one…

“Here, Jack…” my usual but steadfast kindly student helper says warmly as she wraps my reward, a light green blanket, around my shoulders. She then stands up for a second and almost looks like she’s going to leave as well… but then turns squarely back at me. “Sorry, Jack… but I have to ask… why not take another caregiver? You are allowed a secondary one you know, right?”

I did, but after several of my refusals, most students had just moved on and Sam and Ms. Hernandez’s notions about it were mostly just starting to sound like white noise to me nearly halfway through week seven now. “I… I just don’t know. Ms. Hernandez didn’t really come with warnings, but the other three… I can’t see beyond the flashing red around their selection options.”

She sighs and nods. “I understand. I just… Tiffany has it in for you. If you don’t choose something soon, I fear for your safety…” After that, she doesn’t say another word and just leaves toward the door.

I sigh at her advice and now her absence, but as she leaves, I think of something more I want to ask. “Wait! What’s yo…” I call out, realizing I forgot to ask her name. 

But she’s already gone.

After, Ms. Hernandez leads me back to my cell and I have the rest of the day to think about the options in front of me. I wrap the blanket around my shoulders and sit on my bed. Around me, I have the leftovers of the many little gifts I have received since Ms. Hernandez and her students came into my life. Little boxes of cereal, utensils, plastic cups, even a small picture of the beach. They’re all not much, but they were each little points of relief in the pressure of staying in the jail cell for over a year.

But it’s not enough.

Each day and week, I grow more bored of my surroundings, and even my own voice is starting to get annoying. I don’t speak like I’m talking to a different person, but I feel the cracks beginning to form around that option… particularly when Sam speaks up or Ms. Hernandez catches me mid-sentence back to myself.

So, with a great deal of reluctance and after weeks of everyone trying to convince me, I go over to freely elect ways to get me more points. Not really seeing many other options, I gravitate toward one of the highlighted items… a new caregiver.

It absolutely feels like the nuclear option, and I hate every ounce of the notion… but it’s also five more points. It’s not much, but five more would give me 17 total points. ‘And at that level…’ My mouth begins to water in anticipation of even the mere possibility of a change. My reaction is a tiny little nudge, but seconds later, it turns out it was just the amount needed to push me over the edge.

I sigh and look down at the options. “Okay… here we go.”

First, I choose a new main caregiver and owner, called Ms. Anderson. There is a warning associated with her referring to some kind of pain, but I ultimately dismiss this. ‘Only because Ms. Hernandez has a series of rules… Ms. Anderson can’t be so terrible either, right?’ I don’t know if it’s a delusion on my part or not, but I confirm the selection and hear the ‘ding’ soon after.

The screen then flashes briefly, and my number tally increases at the top, going from ‘12’ to ’17.’ I know what I’m likely sacrificing to get that higher number, but it still shines beautifully in my eyes. It’s a fraction of a hope… a shiny bauble I can now include in my life and maybe find something to distract me with. ‘Anything has to be better than what I’ve been going through since I got here…’

So, I look through the options. This time, they are a little harder to choose from, and sadly, despite my higher numbers, they are still out of my ‘range.’ Something like a streaming service is wonderful… but costs ’40.’ ‘Shit… I don’t know if I’ll ever get that…’ I push on, and quickly gliding over some, I see one that stands out above the rest labeled ‘Books and Art Supplies.’

I know for some people that it might not be the ideal choice, but for me, it represents an out, at least of sorts, in this place. With likely the same ‘unlimited’ notion as I’ve seen with other items that I chose using points, more books and creative supplies seem as if they could last me forever. After all, I only see one caveat, but it doesn’t prohibit me from choosing a book like ‘War and Peace.’ Curious of the further implications of the caveat though, I turn to my usual source of answers.

“Sam… what’s this caveat here for ‘Books and Art Supplies?’” I ask my mechanical overseer. “It literally just says caveat with an Asterix next to the word.”

Sam clicks to life behind the aged speakers. “Yes… that’s due to the fact that the caveat can change depending on when you request it and if a caveat has been put in place by your owner and caregiver or any of the requirements or requests that go along with them.”

I wince a little hearing that last part, taking in the likely scenario that Ms. Hernandez and her students were involved. “And those are…?”

The speakers click a few times. “Ms. Hernandez and her students have chosen from a pre-selected list. It seems they have chosen one of the more minor options… for you, every fourth book you choose needs to be specifically catered for either a preschooler’s level or more written with women or girls in mind…”

It’s not the greatest news ever, but I also know that it leaves a wide opening in terms of what I can choose. With a caveat like that, choosing a Dr. Seus book would be done with quick or I could select something from one of the Bronte sisters or several other books that are acclaimed and focus more on the female narrative.

So, with a smile, I select the ‘Books and Art Supplies’ option.

Instead of going through though, the speakers crackle to life again. “Warning! Jack…” Sam starts up, “I must warn you that these will be your fist ‘luxury’ items. It’s a good choice and I might have suggested it for you anyways, but you should also know now and in the future that once a luxury item is chosen, it cannot be returned.”

Seeing some of the higher point options on the list before me, I can see the grave importance of such a warning. “Yes… thank you for letting me know, Sam. But for this… I’m still convinced.” I select the option again without a second thought.

Gratefully, the slot that my other items came though on almost instantly slides out and present me with my first art supplies and a request card for my first book. As the machine dings and I see my point total swoosh down rapidly to just ‘2,’ I know completely that it’s a mighty fine caveat. I almost don’t care about the sudden loss of points… almost.

*              *              *

Curious and more than ready to try out my new coveted items, I go to work nearly as soon as I wake up this morning, continuing where I left off the night before. I first choose ‘1984,’ and it’s a solid read, but I also want to take a break and use more of the art supplies now. So, with my morning routine largely only consisting of a ‘shower’ now, I easily slip into a rhythm of drawing the world around me and it isn’t long before I begin to sketch those in my life… starting with Ms. Hernandez.

Truthfully, in my gleeful bliss, I nearly forget about how I got those points last night…

The door I’ve come to recognize as the escape into the world above this place slams open with a loud and cascading thud, startling me completely.

Pointed and hard steps follow soon after… followed by more deep-pressed clicking. I clutch my heart and press up against the wall, feeling my pulse quicken more with each second.

Standing there and listening in, for a moment, I almost wonder if it’s Ms. Hernandez, but the footsteps… they sound heavier… more burdened and forceful. Remembering my election of a new main owner and caregiver, I’m not filled with a lot of confidence right then over my decision. Yes, I had new points that I already spent, but… it now sounds like thunder is approaching my jail cell and is ready to strike me down. I twinge of regret begins to creep over my body.

Finally, the new clicking figure comes into view.

Ms. Hernandez is a very put-together woman, sporting thick lips, impeccable makeup, intimidating long nails, and little blonde streaks in the tip of her hair. This new woman in my life nearly feels like the opposite.

Her hair is healthy, but plain… almost something one would expect of an officer worker or a teacher. Her nails are neatly done but could be seen on millions of women and would never stand out in a crowd. Her dress is nice, maybe even expensive, but it doesn’t fully hug her form… only showing that she has curves in the most modest of ways while also ending right above her knees. Her arms are small and only adorned with a single black purse.

But her face… Yes, it’s mostly plain, but there’s something more there that I can’t quite make out. Run of the mill looks maybe, but there’s almost a fire beneath the surface. As opposed to the inner peace and kindness and maybe even a little scheming of Ms. Hernandez, her eyes feel like windows into a world of chaos, turmoil, and things that would change my world forever.

Needless to say, I’m a little nervous in her presence.

“Jack, right?” she questions, her voice plain but forceful.

In my own panic over what I see in her eyes, I only nod.

She sighs. “Well… at least you can respond, but… you can call me Ms. Anderson, Ms. A, or ma’am. Anything else is not advisable. Is that understood?” Her looks become cold… uninviting.

“Y… yes, m… ma’am,” I stutter out.

She glares at me but then twirls her hand in the air. Almost immediately, the cell door clicks, and she struts in. “Stand up,” she instructs without feeling.

I nod and do as she bid.

“Good. Follows instructions is correct…” she nearly muses to herself. “I’m glad to see that, but I guess first thing’s first… I know a lot about you, but you know nothing about me, correct?”

I nod my head.

Before I can even get second nod going, Ms. Anderson glares at me and holds up one of her fingers. “Stop that, this instant, Jack!” she nearly snarls at me. “I will not be privy to a mute. You will stand in my presence, and if you can’t form complete sentences like a gentleman, then when I tell you to do something, you will at least say ‘yes ma’am’ or ‘no ma’am.’ Is that understood?”

She seems almost frail in her looks, but as soon as her voice booms and echoes of the wall, I can’t help but tense up and straighten myself completely. “Yes, ma’am!”

“Good.” Her words have no warmth, no feeling… no sympathy. “Now… I work as a professor for the local university, but… I also moonlight as a dominatrix in my off hours. My specialty… pain.”

Her words hover in the air like a deadly morning fog, and I feel the pit of my stomach twist.

“While I am here, you will be the research subject for my PhD thesis on corporal punishment and its effect on human sexuality.” Without skipping a beat, she reaches into her purse and pulls out a single wooden hairbrush. “We will start small at first, but every day, I will come in here and spank you at least 20 times with this brush. This amount will also increase by five spanks every week I am here. This can be delayed but be warned… the only way to do that is by implementing the next higher up in spanking implements. For perspective, the final tier in that ranking is a can coated with a special ointment that is part salt and part lemon juice. For your own sake, I would highly suggest not getting to that point…”

My mind swims in a sea of regret and terror. Ms. Hernandez isn’t great due to her students and Tiffany was racketing up her humiliations each week she came. Last week, she subjected me to watch an hour of gay porn while she tried to edge me. I hated it and her, but now… Ms. Anderson was threatening direct pain. From some prior experience with spankings, pain is something that lingers far after the initial blows. And increasing it by five every week… it doesn’t take a genius to calculate just how many that will be in my life if she stays until the end of the year at this point.

“Now… any questions?” she asks, her eyes calculating and scanning me over like she was looking for any signs of weakness or perceived insults to her.

I shake my head but also quickly remember what she had warned me about earlier. “No, ma’am…”

“Good…” She then walks over to me and pulls my hand to follow her… something I don’t fight. Unfortunately, though, she takes me right back to the room that Ms. Hernandez and her students use as well, before sitting on one of the built-in wall benches in there now.

“Now then…” She looks at me with a stern gaze that weakens me at the knees. “Before we begin, you should know that in here or out there… pretty much any time you are in my presence, if you are uncooperative or try to touch me in any way… your spankings for that week will also increase for a period set by me.” Her gaze deepens. “Say you understand, Jack.”

“I… I understand, ma’am.” I swallow hard, feeling my fear begin to erupt from my throat, seemingly closer every second to losing my breakfast in front of her.

“Good.” Her smile grows into something more sadistic… hateful… satisfied with what is to come. “Lay across my lap, but remember… any struggle and I will add to your spankings this week…”

I see her lap like it’s a boiling bit of lava ready to scorch me alive. “Y… yes, ma’am.” I pause for a moment, but a quick foot tap from Ms. Anderson and I’m nearly flinging myself over her knee. I make sure not to crush her, but I don’t want to delay and risk further pain from her either.

“Good boy,” she says, lifting up my skirt and then unceremoniously yanking down my panties to expose my tender rear flesh before her assault begins. She even surprisingly rubs my butt gently but deeply for a time. It’s strange but it’s not the worse either… but she then stops as quickly as she started. “Now… don’t move an inch.”

I only manage to close my eyes for a moment before I feel the first smack reign down on me.

Each blow is delivered in rapid succession and without mercy. I can’t see beyond my own blurring vision, but I can feel that she’s not holding back even for a second to take a break. Each sting causes me to flinch, but I mentally anchor myself to her lap and even try to grip the floor in front of me with my outstretched arms to keep myself from moving around. It was just taking it for the time, but my rational and even irrational mind was working overtime. If Ms. Hernandez was swift with her punishments and they weren’t great, but the lady smacking my butt full force with a hairbrush right now is likely going to be far worse.

So, I stay put… for all twenty bare-bottomed spanks.

Finally, she finishes and begins to rub my butt. It’s on fire, but the rubbing actually seems to take some of the sting off after the initial dose of pain. “Good job, Jack. I’m very glad you didn’t fight me on your first spanking. In fact…” She then guides me off her and has me standing before her still with my red panties around my ankles where she first pulled them down to.

“Now you know the basics of the ‘pain’ part of what I do for you. What I failed to mention before is, and yes that is a little part of the test for today, but after… if you don’t fight me, touch me, or struggle or rebel in anyway, I will reward you.” She smirks and then lifts up my skirt… revealing my chastity cage.

I look down and feel I have the gist of what she’s implying… but there’s just one problem. “I… I… thank you, ma’am, but… I don’t want to assume, but also… I… uh, I’m kind of locked and…”

In one swift flick, almost as if magic, Ms. Anderson then produces the key to my cage. “Is this what you’re referring to, Jack? Is this your little problem?”

“I…” I nod my head quickly. “Yes, ma’am. I…”

“Shhh,” she instructs me as she places a finger over my lips. “No talking now. You need to hear everything with my deal and then we’ll get to your… little situation down there.” Her eyes glance down and then quickly back up at me, leaving me no doubt about what she’s been referring to.

“Now then… after each of our sessions together, you will turn to your computer back in your cell and fill out a survey. Answer all the questions on there truthfully and with as much detail as you can, and you’ll be fine.” She pauses and her previous glare at me returns. “If you don’t fill it out however, I will increase the following week’s spanks by ten as well as the five already.”

Like a switch though, her happy demeanor then returns. “But fill it out, don’t fight me, give me good research data, and keep doing it all, and… well, I must just figure out a few other rewards to give you.” She purposely leaves her notion up in the air.

It doesn’t take my mind long to wander and fill in the gaps itself.

Right as I’m in the middle of imagining other forms of pleasure or hot fudge sundaes being delivered to my jail cell, I feel my skirt being lifted up. I look down.

Ms. Anderson is staring right back at me and pulling out my chastity key once more. “Alright… now that you’ve thought about all the niceties… let me give you a taste of what I can offer you. Something… to keep your mind off the pain when I come next…”

I hear the click and my cage falls away.

Ms. Anderson goes to work right away, pushing me down on the bench roughly, my tender bottom causing me to wince slightly… but she also doesn’t let that feeling linger. Almost immediately, she nearly attacks my member and sends me into waves of pleasure. Her experienced hands are evident right off the bat. Ms. Hernandez and her students are usually stiff and the reward, if given and not food or some other nicety, always feels clinical… an afterthought. Ms. Anderson though… her hands glide me to ecstasy over and over again. She knows just how fast, just how hard, or just how smooth to be.

I don’t last long.

“Very good, Jack…” she says, grinning wide down at me, her position of authority never clearer. “Maybe try to hold back a little more and enjoy it more, but… up to you.” She slyly smirks and then stands up before finding a few wipes and cleaning me up. It’s not long before I’m clean and back in my cage.

Exiting the room, she leads me back to my jail cell and then closes the door right behind me with a metallic clang and thud. “Good job today, Jack. You didn’t struggle and you obeyed my orders right away. As long as you fill out the form, I don’t see why this relationship can’t work out for both of us.” With that, she leaves me alone.

I gently sit down on the bed and I’m awash with several conflicting emotions. The usual shame lingers, but I now also feel fear… fear of what is to come in the future if she stays in my life. This week is 20 spanks, but if she sticks around… I shudder in terror at the massive number I come up with in my head. ‘Holy fuck! Over 200 spanks each day by the end if she stays and I don’t go up to the next worst spanking implement. I… fuck.’

But on the other hand… I feel the now minimal pressure down below caused by my release. It wasn’t very long, and the pressure would build once more, but I can’t deny the feeling of relief either. It’s small and maybe some could say that I’m paying too high of a price for just a little pleasure… but I don’t have much here and I don’t think anyone could refute the notion that every little bit helps here.

Still, the screen beckons me over, and unlike previous times I see the screen, I now see a red hand icon at the top. I click on it, and right away the survey begins. I see the first question. “Is this thing serious?”

“Very serious, Jack,” Sam confirms from the speakers. “Ms. Anderson needs this information to be filled out promptly for her research study. She has expressed great interest in you and the others who have chosen her. And… I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but the results of the study so far have been… encouraging.”

I like Sam and all, but him liking anything anymore always feels like just an emphasis on me being between a rock and a hard place here. Yes, his words and advice are always valid… I just don’t like the look the morning afterward. Case and point… Ms. Anderson. I see her positives, but it’s very hard to avoid the negatives when any shift on my behind sends a jolt of pain through my system… and it’s just the beginning.

Still, I sigh and look back at the survey. ‘How does butt feel? Did the spanking increase pleasure of hand job? Were you punished? Would you offer more punishment for more reward?” Many of the questions went on like that, and by the end, I felt spent and a little gross. Breaking it all down put a chill in my spine… particularly when the questions seemed geared towards linking pleasure and plain.

Once again with her, I don’t like the long-term outlook of what I’m seeing. And once I complete the survey, it thanks me and sends me back to the front page of the tablet I’ve made most of my selections from… now showing the timer ticking down until I can choose a new main caregiver and owner.

Tomorrow, Ms. Hernandez and her students will still come… one of only two times a week I will see them. As I shift once more on the bed and feel the spot where I was spanked earlier, I begin to be filled with an ounce of regret. I didn’t like myself after Ms. Hernandez and her students, but once they were gone, I could just enjoy the pleasure of what I bargained away. Keeping a stiff upper lip and shuffling off their torments, life was normal without them in my cell… or at least I wasn’t constantly reminded of them and their machinations.

With Ms. Anderson, I have no such luck. I try to shift to a better spot after, but she was both hard and thorough in her distribution of spanks across my butt. No doubt, my flesh is a nice pinkish hue now… something that no doubt will cause me scores of humiliations tomorrow with Ms. Hernandez’s students. So, yes… thinking carefully on it all, I can only sigh and feel strong in the notion that I am now definitely regretting my choices, and I absolutely fear the future with what it holds for me.

Definitely not good…

[Bonsai]

I somehow have the feeling that Jack will have a taste of the still-unknown dominatrix (that specializes in ???) before finally choosing Ms. Sophia and her expertise in regression.

But of course you have been very good at just foreshadowing the other options in the program and it still feels there is an almost virgin universe out there to be explored by Jack.

[LostBBoyBear]

Hey everyone!

Moving right along with the story. Thank you to anyone who has liked or commented. It absolutely lets me know I’m not going down a bad turn with this story. Being a little new to me with the content right now, I have that fear, but I’m pushing through. Hopefully, you all still enjoy what I’m putting out here.

Just as a reminder, a new one 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 of my story!

Chapter 8: You’ll See… Soon, I Suspect

Two months… I couldn’t believe it. I’ve been stuck in a jail cell for two months and since I’ve come, I’ve been the subject of countless humiliations, verbal harassment, hunger, boredom, borderline insanity, and even days of agony now. I always felt that nothing could get worse, but sadly, I was always proven wrong. Things could sometimes get better but both ways often seemed to cancel each other out now.

Prime example… Ms. Hernandez and her students.

Those pesky nuisances and humiliations to my soul now come only twice a week. Normally, I would cite that as cause for celebration, but now with Ms. Anderson as my main caregiver and owner, the students have seemingly upped their quota for humiliations to make up for the smaller amount of time with me… not to mention there’s also a larger audience involved each week to watch, listen, or just straight up participate.

Admittedly, at first, I was worried about reprisals from rejecting them or choosing Ms. Anderson as my main caregiver and owner over them. When a college-aged woman seemingly gets off on treating you like their whipped little puppy or whore of a sissy… all bets are off.

But it didn’t happen.

I was pleasantly surprised the first time they came in after I had chosen Ms. Anderson when the humiliations didn’t immediately start. I was even thrilled when several seemed to stay on their best behavior now instead of their usual angry or rude or near sinister attitudes towards me as I had become used to. It was terrible dealing with, but as long as they ‘stayed within the rules,’ everything seemed fair game.

But they held back… at least at first. As soon as Ms. Hernandez sat down, I became the proverbial chew toy for their countless humiliations. Being brash and using her posse, Tiffany surged ahead in line and was first to dish out her own little tortures on me. And normally that would be it… terrible and absolutely humiliating to my ego, but now, there were four others behind her as well… each willing and even eager to subject me to their own machinations and barters in this crazy messed up system.

The only advantage to any of these new developments though, was that as soon as they left, my humiliation was over. It takes a few visits from Ms. Anderson to realize that with Ms. Hernandez and her students, there were no lingering effects from what they did to me… unlike Ms. Anderson. Yes, at first, I can admit that I cried myself to sleep sometimes, but now… all their simple taunts were all just becoming white noise. I knew with any luck that I would never see any of them again after this and as long as my compliance held, I finally realized that I wasn’t truly screwed in the long or short term.

Unfortunately, some seemed to relish where exactly the balance was for how little reward they could offer.

And that might have been fine, but their humiliations never seemed to cease. Pointing and laughing at my now nearly permanently red bottom, their scorns and jeers at my expense were free and continuous… without any reward. So, when one was offered, I grabbed at it the first chance I could… no matter how lowly or ridiculous the tradeoff was. For me, compliance had to be king… always.

Even if that meant wearing a French maid outfit for an entire day even after they left in order to get a better pillow.

“Oh, look at those lips go!” one student shouts from the back. “Betcha’ anything it would look good in action kissing!”

I burn with humiliation over today’s indignity. Surprisingly not Tiffany, but instead Rebecca… her seemingly number two and a quickly rising player in who could humiliate me the most on any given day. Today, I had to apply my own bright rouge red lipstick and blush to my cheeks and then read erotic fiction in the sultriest voice I could manage. Further, I had to at least act like I was enjoying it.

Sadly, all that was standard faire these days. I could only sigh when she announced it as part of her humiliating task and I was applying the lipstick before she could even tell me the reward. I would have done anything to avoid punishment, but then she told me the reward. I winced and even paused my makeup, but a glare from Rebecca and several others kept me going… even if it was confirmed to be only for two cups of mac n’ cheese and a Gatorade. It’s pathetic, but refusal these days just isn’t an option for me.

"’You lie there,’ he said softly, and he shut the door, so that it was dark, quite dark,” I read aloud as I bite my lower lip seductively occasionally. I have to keep up appearances somewhat of liking this whole thing. I don’t want to, but I don’t want the punishment from refusal either. I even have to caress my leg up and down at one point… “With a queer obedience, she lay down on the blanket. Then she felt the soft, groping, helplessly desirous hand touching her body, feeling for her face. The hand stroked her face…”

The hoots and hollers going on all around me force me to stop and sputter out some of the lines. I hate these students… well, most of them. A few look at me sympathetically now. A few have even tried to intervene… only to be drowned out or outright stopped by the masses who seem to have no decency. The small and meekly passive students though have started to fight back. It’s not enough to keep me from enduring all this, but it’s enough to give me a small degree of hope.

Simply put… when I have next to nothing, it's something.

Fortunately, Ms. Hernandez has been a little more vigilant lately… almost caring of me now. It’s strange to think that as my actual main caregiver and owner that she would be less kind to me, but as she stands up and stops the acts about twenty minutes later, she doesn’t even flinch for a second when her students complain.

“But we were supposed to have another hour with our little Jessica!” one complains almost making it sound like I was to be their doll.

“I didn’t even get to go today!” another says, stomping her foot. “Why’d Rebecca get to go for so long?”

“Enough!” Ms. Hernandez thunders, quieting everyone in the room. It’s nice to see her anger directed at someone else for a change. I’ve been good, but there’s only so much good you can do apparently to stave off an angry glare or tout from her. “We need to leave now. I told you that if you were extra good today then maybe you all could stay until later. I didn’t see any evidence of that, so now… we leave. Anyone want to argue that?”

Seeing her firm stance and fiery eyes, I’m not at all surprised when no one says a word. “Good… then everyone outside. On the double!”

Several pairs of little heels and flats tap right by me. I receive a few angry and vengeful looks which make me weak at the knees, but I also know that it’s a ‘tomorrow problem.’ For today, though, I know that I’ve made it through their bountiful humiliations in one piece and with maybe an ounce of dignity that I wouldn’t have had before. I smile. I’m free and alone.

Or almost…

“Ms. Hernandez?” one of the students pipes up in the back of the blank and sterile room. “Can I stay here and help Jack with all the after stuff?”

I nearly snap my neck back to see who is speaking, and I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but I see it’s the same student who’s been helping me since the first day. “You… you…”

“I’d like to help,” she says smiling at me before gesturing to her own face. “You know… with all that.”

I blush at her notion of the makeup I still have on my face.

Smirking a little at my realization, she then turns back to Ms. Hernandez, now nearly frozen and almost confused looking at the doorway. “I…” She then takes a breath and seemingly composes herself. “I suppose if that’s what you want. I can’t offer you extra credit in the traditional sense, but… maybe some credit elsewhere.”

The student nods and Ms. Hernandez smiles… almost as if she knows something more.

It’s a little strange, but after a tiny wave by her and her disappearance, I hear the door to the outside slam close once more. Normally, I would be alone. Today though… I look back at the student questioningly. “Uh… thank you for stay, miss, but, uh… pardon me for asking, but… why are you here?” I hate how I have to ask things with the students, but again, better for an ounce of humiliation than an hour of punishment.

I did question that tactic once, but after returning from a roll call last week, I asked Sam. His only response back was ‘you made the right decision.’ I don’t know if I can fully trust it, but it was something that made me feel at least a little better.

She steps closer and smiles. “Jack…” she starts, my real name almost sounding funny from the mouth of one of Ms. Hernadez’s students these days. “You don’t have to be formal with me here. We can just be friends, if you want that is…”

I look back at her in almost disbelief. There’s almost a quiet and shy nature about her, but a kindness that nearly seems out of place in this whole situation. I want to know more about her, but with my guard still up, I nod. “I… I can do that…”

She smiles a little more playfully and gestures to the seat in front of the mirror. “Well, let’s get started, huh? No need to keep extra makeup on your face, right?”

I nod and quickly take a seat.

The girl then prepares several items before me but then stops and turns to face me with an open hand. “You know… I just totally forgot… you don’t know my name, do you?” She pauses for a second enough to watch me shake my head. “Sorry about that. I’m Georgia.”

I reach out and shake her hand back. “Jack, but, uh…”

“Jack works just fine between us,” she confirms. “You don’t need to be called by that other name. At least not yet…”

“Yet?” I question as she turns to pick up a packet of wipes from the nearby extended countertop.  

She comes back to me with a single wipe. “Yes…” Her face drops a little with sadness. “I saw the end of this program last year with the previous batch of candidates. I’m not legally allowed to tell you much, but… by the end, some went by their changed names.”

“Forcibly?” I ask, my palms now starting to sweat a little.

“I’m not sure,” she admits. “I just know that some looked…” She shakes her head as she wipes more makeup off my check. “I can’t say that. I just… I know the lengths this operation can go to. One of the reasons I came here. I knew that some of the candidates needed an out… particularly the lower ones.”

“You mean with the points?” Being the lowest starting with points, I quickly jump to that conclusion always.

She nods her head. “That’s right. They always seem to struggle at first. Can do very well more than the others later, but… the beginning is tough. I mean… not to embarrass you, but a few weeks ago, I could see your bones.”

I wince at the notion. “Yeah… hard to keep muscle or fat when you eat slop twice daily.”

“I can only imagine…” She wipes more makeup off my face. “Also why I talked to Ms. Hernandez about helping you out recently… especially with Tiffany. She’s a… well, I won’t say that, but… Ms. H and I made a bargain. Tiffany or her friends or any of the others push the boundaries of the humiliations too often without a good reward in return, I could help you in turn as well for free.”

“Oh…” I had been wondering for a while now why a few things felt differently. Plus, help from a student almost always would cost me something. “Thank you…”

“Don’t mention it.” She smiles and pulls out a few more wipes. “But while I’m here… mind if I ask you a few questions?”

I could say no, but with her help and her input… I feel I don’t have that right to refuse. “Go ahead…”

Her questions are direct, and she doesn’t hold back. Stuttering around for a little, yes, but she manages to choke out each and I respond as best I can. Some are basic like my background, but others… She questions some more personal things, like why I chose Ms. Anderson in the first place, but I’m so swept up by just her mere presence, I don’t fully realize we’re leaving the plain room and going back to my jail cell until I sit on my bed with a slight wince in the pain from yesterday’s spanking.  

“I’m going to be honest with you, Jack…” Georgia says with a deep sigh noticing my pain. “I’m really not sure why you chose Ms. Anderson aside from the points you got from it.”

“No… that’s really it…” I confirm with my usual burden.

She pauses in front of me and gives me a look that if we were in a cartoon, I swear I would hear the gear clacking around her head and see smoke coming from her ears. “Jack… you need to leave her,” she finally says with a gravity that no one could take lightly. “Leave her as soon as you can. You have one more week until you hit the two-week minimum. Once you hit it, drop her.”

“Just like that?” I question with a little annoyance over how simple she noted for me to do that.

“No… I mean, I get why it will be hard, but please… do it for your own sake.” She sighs again. “I just… I’ve seen the others around here that chose her. A few of your fellow candidates chose her from the beginning and then chose Ms. Hernandez as a secondary.”

“And?” I’m not entirely sure where she’s going with this.

“Jack… I’ve seen the others. I know you seem them at roll call, but I see them moving around and sitting down at least twice a week,” she explains. “From her brutality, a few are now even having trouble walking. Not hard to believe though… those who chose her from the start… they’re now up to 55 spanks per day… every day.”

She pauses and then looks at me directly in the eye. “And be careful of her cycle…”

I internally question what that’s even supposed to mean, but I shake my head. I’ve seen the alternatives, and I can’t switch her out for the next one. “Georgia… your advice is great. Thank you for it, really, but… I would have to either choose Ms. Sophia or drop Ms. Anderson entirely. You can’t expect me to do either!”

“I know it’s tough, but remember the cycle I mentioned just now?”

I nod.

“Well… you need to avoid that at all costs. I mean… choose a locking collar or steel mittens if you have to… anything over her,” she warns. “Whether you can see it or not, she will put you into a no-win scenario.” Just as I was about to ask her more, she continued. “What this means is that often, she will stick you in cycle that you can’t get out from under without enduring a lot of pain in the process. Basically, she will increase your spanking count and then offer you a bargain for healing cream to your inflicted injuries. She will use this as your reward instead of anything she promised beforehand.”

My eyes widen at the implication.

“Yes, that’s right,” she verified, likely seeing my now terrified look. “She’ll only give you enough for one or maybe two uses if you don’t mind a sting instead of a pain all night. But she’ll keep increasing the number of spankings and by the time she gets into the nineties, she knows she has you cornered. You’d be willing to do anything to get her to stop… most of the time, that only ends in you disobeying her… causing more spankings later, which means you want more healing cream. The cycle…”

It was all so barbaric, and I leaned back on my bed now seeing the path of defeat, pain, and ultimate submission right before me. I know there’s a way out, but still… I couldn’t take it. Doing that, I would lose something of the few things I still had in my life.

Georgia crouches down and pats me on my knee. “Look, Jack… I don’t expect you to give her up today. Matter of fact… you can’t with the time limit and all, but… just please remember, okay?”

I nod, a little part of me in disbelief… but another part knowing that Georgia had just given me a glimpse into my potential future.

She checked her watch, stood up, and opened the jail cell door before turning back to me. “I’ve got to go now, but just in case I couldn’t convince you enough today… I think coming up with her, you’ll see… soon, I suspect…” Her eyes were full of worry, and she didn’t seem like she wanted to go. But seconds later, a tiny and faint honk from somewhere above and far off went off. She meekly waved goodbye and left without another word.

*              *              *

The next morning, I find myself once again at roll call. It was becoming a part of my routine… something I was getting used to but something I still didn’t like. And to put it as easily as I can, I do that stuff for two reasons.

First off, I broke once again. I needed more points to at least give me hope, and per the suggestion from Sam, I had already ‘ripped off the proverbial band-aid’ and showed my panties to the entire spot of candidates during roll call, so there was no need for embarrassment anymore. Plus, not only did I see my numbers tick up once more from a measly ‘2’ to ‘7’ now, but I also began to notice that several others in my row had opted for panties too. A few of theirs were different colors, but they were definitely the same style and contained the same number of bows and lace as all the rest.

I see the same thing today, looking long down at my ‘lower’ line. But looking as closely as I do, I also see the second reason I still don’t like this. Namely, I see a preview of what my future could be.

With some people liking some things or tolerating others over their fellow candidates, it was only natural that some of us would choose the ‘lesser of two evils’ in different ways. Sure, no one chose something like the ‘Bimbo Lip Gag,’ but other options were still on display. So, as I looked down on the line, I couldn’t help but shudder a little bit.

Yes, it was partly due to what I was seeing, but it was also a clear reminder of ‘alternative’ options to Ms. Anderson. True, she was vicious when she wanted to be, and her specialty was listed as pain, but that was private. Painful, but something I could technically keep to myself in this environment. Even with my newly elected panty reveal, it didn’t show much… especially of my reddened bottom.

Looking across the way though, I started to look closer at all of them… just to see if Georgia had in fact been telling me the truth. Three weeks in and my fellow candidates were each showing some sign of wear now. Despite the muffled sniggers still from the other side, I could plainly see less of a polish to them now. Still ‘less modified’ but near opposite of ‘untouched’ now.

A few were sporting longer hair, though nowhere near my upper-back length currently, and some even were wearing more ‘feminine’ designs. Colors of blacks, browns, and even blues seemed to be fading everywhere. But still… it was nothing compared to my line.

Curves in several, long hair like mine, cheerleading outfits, lace, frills, and all manners of dresses and items that I would never have been caught dead in before all this. Some were clearly newer to all this, but a few seemed almost passive to it. Not liking it, but… less combative or snippy when they similarly raised their skirts today. I still flinch when I raise my own cheerleading skirt but thought of ‘an extra 5 points’ rings out in my head continuously and drowns out all that.

“Alright, you lot!” Mrs. Balson shouts out, her raspy and deeper voice grating against the walls, causing even some of the security guards nearby to flinch. “You all made it here. Good for you.” Miss Lennox wasn’t a picnic, but she at least seemed human compared to Mrs. Balson these days.

“Before you leave… I have an announcement,” she noted dryly, stopping several from even jerking their bodies slightly to leave the way they came in. “It has been decided that for all current selectees of electing to drop IQ points as their drug of choice initially, you should know that instead of a loss of one point a month, it will now be raised to three per month.”

There was an audible gasp in the room.

“Quiet down!” she shouted, her voice nearly straining against the extra volume. “Now, I’ll have none of that. You all chose what you did. Not my fault or this place’s if you didn’t read the fine print…”

I could really only imagine the specifics of what she was talking about. I had elected the hair growth option and never returned to the ‘Changes at 6 Months’ section. Remembering back, each wasn’t a great option to begin with, and each seemed to have their own negatives. Hair growth still isn’t great, but its only hidden drawback is that it falls in my face occasionally… at least before Georgia gave me that hair tie. Franjly, without it, I might have truly lost it by now.

But as we begin to file out once more, I see the sullen and ashen faces before me. Despite not looking into the IQ drop selection any time in the past two months that I’ve been here, I can do basic math. Two months in and going from a loss of one to a loss of three… ‘Holy shit.’

It wasn’t hard to put together after that why so many looked nervous now. At a loss of one per month, even if they started in the beginning, it would only be twelve total. Now, with ten months left, it stood at a loss of 30 IQ points now when they would leave here. It wasn’t a good sign and as I saw the faces again, I nearly had sympathy for them.

I might have even just passed them by without thought, but ‘10’ soon passed in front of me.

‘10’ only had five more points to start off than me. Seeing the lack of items or luxuries to get with it, I knew back then that it wasn’t much, but there was something about ’10’ that always seemed so much worse to me. I could never quite understand what it was, but if their life was even half as harsh as mine had been so far, I couldn’t blame them for looking a little ‘off.’ Simply put, some people just did worse when subjected to isolation and daily stents of humiliation or pain.

But today there’s something more.

More than ever, they look dead inside. They look like they want to puke and then walk off into barbed wire or the towers to just end their suffering. There is something inside of them that looks like it has just broken. Not bent like I was getting with some of my trials here but truly broken.

I want to say something, but Mrs. Balson is a crotchety bitch and a stickler for the rules. “Move along, 35-01!” she scolds me when I stop to ask if ’10’ is okay. And that is another thing… she doesn’t bother learning our names… not even our numbers here.

I could have spat in her face, yelled at her, or even have given her a good slap. I was never much for violence, but for her and with all my pent-up frustration here, I think it might feel good, and I think I would even get a round of applause from everyone here… including the guards.

But I don’t, so, I just head back to my cart outside the inspection room and return to my jail cell.

The whole time, I’m thinking of ‘10’ and what they must have gone through. No doubt, others, especially on the other side of the line, probably are thinking the same about me, but… ’10’ nearly threatens to haunt me. I get almost a sixth sense that something is definitely wrong. ‘I want to help, but how? Would anyone even listen? Do I even have that pull or right here to make a cha…?’

“Hello, Jack,” Ms. Anderson says slyly with a bit of a standoffish attitude. “Have a good roll call?”

I look back at her, stunned that she would be here so soon. Lately, she’s been coming in the afternoon. I am dressed as she requires, but I still feel there’s something I’m doing wrong. Granted, it could just be her beady and judgmental look that I’ve seen so much recently, but I’m just not sure.

“Good?” I answer hesitantly.

She frowns. “Is that a question?”

I shake my head. “N… no, ma’am. I just… something on my mind is all. Sorry…”

“Well then…” She stands up proudly from her lounged spot on my bed where she had looked like a cat waiting for the mouse to stroll in. “You best get whatever that is out of your mind. Now is my time, and I will not tolerate you spacing off. My research is too important, and I can’t have you messing with that.” She steps closer to me with a hardened glare. “Is that understood?”

I nearly feel myself shrinking under her intense gaze. “Y… yes, ma’am.”

She retracts slightly and moves right past me to the door of my jail cell. “Then come on. I don’t have all day. Been delayed enough as it already is…” She mutters a few more things I don’t quite make out and then practically stomps out and down the hall.

Having seen this before, even without a verbal queue, I know I need to follow her.

Entering what I now know is the pain or humiliation room, partly from the ‘HR’ and ‘PR’ posted outside of the door below my number, but also because those are the two activities that have been practiced in here so far. I can say a lot about the government, but a lack of cohesion and disorganization in this operation certainly aren’t on that list by a mile.

Regardless, entering the room, all this routine by now. After a week of performing all the little tasks, I know I need to do two things. First, I have to check the room for any signs of clutter from before and then wipe off the bench she will soon sit on to administer my spanking. Second, I need to drop my panties and come over to her without any further delay.

So, I get to work. The problem is though, looking around the white room, it doesn’t get much use. In fact, the only use it gets is either between Ms. Hernandez or Ms. Anderson, and this time, I know I cleaned it thoroughly yesterday after Georgia left as part of my routine then. Naturally and stupidly, my mind begins to wander.

It’s not much, but ’10’ keeps flashing up in my head and thought swim all around him. Some, like “where are you from?” have been percolating since I first saw him standing right next to me. Others, like “are you okay?” have become more pressing lately… especially after today. From Ms. Hernandez slip-ups, Sam’s information, and a few announcements, I know that mental health here is closely monitored… just not always good enough.

Frankly, it doesn’t take a genius or special operator to spot wrist bandages during roll call.

Still though, ’10’ concerns me. And pardon me for having a heart, but I guess sometimes that’s just not allowed around here… especially when I need to be focusing on my tasks at hand. So, when Ms. Hernandez sees me stop and expects me to drop my panties in a second after coming over here, I’m later than normal. I realize my mistake, but according to her, I’m already “far too late.”

“Ms. Anderson… please,” I beg after she smacks her palm down on the bench she’s currently sitting on. “I was distracted only for a moment. I was getting to you… I swear!” My pleas are genuine, but they fall on deaf ears and reach an unforgiving soul.

“I already told you, Jack… get you mind off anything else other than me!” she roars, her footsteps pounding over to me before she looks me down and makes me feel about an inch tall. “I gave you a chance. I warned you even! I never do that! And yet you still disobeyed me!”

“But I didn’t mean to!” I try to defend myself still, though knowing I’m already doomed in her eyes.

“Not good enough! What you mean only lasts about as long as your excuse and let me tell you… your excuse doesn’t hold a lot of water, so no!” She marches back over to the wall and presses the wall for a moment before a panel springs out.

I don’t see what’s inside, but I hear a lot of rattling and items being moved around. Finally, Ms. Anderson turns back toward me and my heart drops.

“Since you can’t seem to listen to me today, I think we’re going to have to up spankings today with this!” She holds the black paddle up to the light, its surface nearly shining back at me, but also, it gives me a very clear view of the holes drilled throughout the surface of it. “See these? These holes make the paddle more aerodynamic. Air just passes right through. So much faster… harder…”

I gulp in terror over the new spanking implement being shown to me.

“Now then…” She goes over to her now usual bench and sits down before looking back at me with the most wicked and hateful eyes I think I’ve ever seen. “Get your butt over here on the double. Any delay and you’ll only make this worse!”

I scurry over and quickly position myself over her lap, failing entirely to pre-drop my panties.

“Didn’t even take off your panties to your knees… I’m very disappointed in you, jack,” she says, even ‘tsk-tsking’ me multiple times before yanking my panties down to my ankles… this time with such force that I hear them rip a little. “Now… don’t move an inch. For your punishment today for failing to listen to me and failing to follow my instructions from before… 50 spanks today and tomorrow.”

My mind screams in horror at the prospect. I’m already at 25 this week and my butt is already throbbing each time afterward. I don’t break, but I’m definitely not holding it together entirely anymore with the repeated blows onto my still soft butt. ‘But 50?’

This time, breaking with her normal routine, Ms. Anderson raises the paddle and goes right to work.

I’m wincing with the second spank. I’m shaking by the 24^th. I’m biting my tongue by the 27^th. I’m even whimpering by the 36^th. But 50… it comes like a hurricane shoving barbed wire into my cheeks. I feel the sting before the contact with the actual implement. I know right then just how screwed I am today and worse tonight. I feel a few tears begin to moisten my face.

But it’s over.

To my surprise though, Ms. Anderson then takes my body and stands me up right in front of her. She even lifts my skirt with my panties still lowered… giving her an ample view of my cage. Her hand drifts towards it… a smile on her face. She seems like she’s even reaching into her pocket. ‘The key?’ I’m not sure, but her hand gets closer and closer…

And she smacks it.

It’s nothing hard, but the lack of payoff and the slight sting on top of my spanking make me falter for a moment, causing Ms. Anderson to laugh a little. “Oh, goodness! You really thought I was going to release you and get you off today? Holy… I can’t believe you fell for that!” She then smacks my cage a few times like a cat playing with a ball of yarn. “Geesh! How stupid can you get?”

I droop my head and shame. I just want this to be all over.

But Ms. Anderson then stands up and leads me out of the room and back to my jail cell. It’s a small moment of relief… but it’s soon crushed as she pushes me into the corner and then forces my arms together. “Now… I need to make sure you remember this lesson… what happens when you don’t listen to me the first time and just go off into your little own land up in your head. Naughty, naughty… and naughty boys get punished.”

 I see her then produce a set of handcuffs. Nothing too elaborate, but they shine oddly and there almost looks like more of a bulk in the middle where the chain normally is. “Are those new?”

Ms. Anderson backhands my still exposed cage. “No talking, but yes… special order and all. Top of the line for you, Jack. Now…” In one swift motion, she yanks me up to my feet and then pulls my fancy handcuffs high over my head and onto a peg of some sort in the corner that I had never seen before.

Once I am hooked onto my place in the corner, Ms. Anderson backs up and admires her work. “Perfect! Should hold you for a few hours at least.” I then hear her clack away in her heels. “Okay… this is how it’s going to work. You stay still up there for the next hour. You move, talk, yell… pretty much anything but stay quiet and stay still… I’ll add 25 more for another week straight.”

This time, afterwards, she doesn’t even wait for me to respond, and in one swift motion, exits my cell without another word.

“Warning!” Sam announces. “You will not move from that spot for one hour at least. Failure to comply initially will only result in further time added to your punishment… for no longer than 12 hours total. Successful completion can be done in one hour with no movement or sound of any sort.”

I can’t do anything to acknowledge what he just told me. I am stuck… unmovable… silent… a nothing in a sea of shame and pain. What’s worse, it only takes me a second to realize the awful truth of today. With five new added spankings a week, apart from today and tomorrow, and 25 this week, I will be getting this daily in just five weeks.

I feel a shudder travel down my spine. I bite my tongue to distract me and keep me from moving.

So, I am now stuck on a little bolt in the corner of my room from a woman I chose to be my owner and caregiver… who just spanked the life out of me for essentially not being quick enough to follow her first commands. She labeled it as not listening to what she said today about being distracted… but it’s not the truth.

But it doesn’t matter. She knows it and I know it…

Then, almost as if her echo from yesterday pierces through my skull beyond time, I remember what Georgia told me about Ms. Anderson. ‘I think coming up with her, you’ll see… soon, I suspect.’ She warned me and I didn’t listen. Not that could do anything about it with my two-week moratorium on removing her or choosing another… but I’m still trapped. Just with the added bonus of seeing what she meant now…

But again, it doesn’t matter…

I can’t do a single thing about it today… or even tomorrow. All I can do is just hang here in the corner and try to stay as still as possible while my toes nearly dangle and just touch the ground if I concentrate. Any second, I feel I am going to fall… and just cruelly add to my time.

So, in those types of situations, I almost feel it’s justifiable for my mind to wander. I let it rumble around inside my head for a few minutes. I don’t like it once again, and the defeat I feel from such an act… but I have to think of the possibilities being in such a horrid place today. Admittedly, I only think of saying yes for only a second, but after I weigh what could be worse than this… and what could help me out in the long run, I think of one conclusion. Yes, it leads me to a dark place and I’m ashamed of myself after, but I see what’s out there, and even if it’s for a total time it takes one to blink their eyes, I think of what else I could do in this messed up place.

I almost fall a split second later, and my thoughts are loosened and tossed aside, but with it all, I can’t help but think… ‘Is choosing another just an inevitable fate around here?’ I’m not sure, but in this moment right now, I know one thing… As I look up at my wrists and down at my toes, I feel myself getting tired already… about to fall and start my punishment all over again…

[zzzz50]

While I have enjoyed prior stories by @LostBBoyBear I am afraid that I am giving up on this story. It is just too cruel with little diaper content. I ended up skipping over the extensive punishment scenes which make up 80% of the story in the latest chapter. Sorry for bailing out on reading the story, i just can’t seem to get any enjoyment from the physical punishments that is the focus of this story.

 

U

 

[Bonsai]

11 minutes ago, zzzz50 said:

While I have enjoyed prior stories by @LostBBoyBear I am afraid that I am giving up on this story. It is just too cruel with little diaper content. I ended up skipping over the extensive punishment scenes which make up 80% of the story in the latest chapter. Sorry for bailing out on reading the story, i just can’t seem to get any enjoyment from the physical punishments that is the focus of this story.

 

U

 

Funny. I feel exactly the opposite way. While older stories from @LostBBoyBear were a bit too bland for my taste, this one has the perfect amount of spicyness.

So, apparently, there isn’t a single target audience.

[LostBBoyBear]

8 hours ago, zzzz50 said:

While I have enjoyed prior stories by @LostBBoyBear I am afraid that I am giving up on this story. It is just too cruel with little diaper content. I ended up skipping over the extensive punishment scenes which make up 80% of the story in the latest chapter. Sorry for bailing out on reading the story, i just can’t seem to get any enjoyment from the physical punishments that is the focus of this story.

 

U

 

I am very sorry to hear that but I understand. I knew going into this story that it would be a risk. It's one of the reasons actually that I've written so much Diaper Dimension content... you basically can torture your characters but baby them at the same time. For this one, however, I had to put myself in the shoes of *gasp* someone who actually has a choice in the matter and who doesn't like diapers, so wouldn't therefore willingly choose them. I do promise that they are coming around the bend... sometime in the next two weeks, but I understand the difficulty in sustaining this story without the more traditional elements of this site. If I am to be so bold, you may consider coming back once we get further in the story with all that is coming, but no worries if not. That is completely your decision. 

Take heart in the fact though that all three of my next stories are definitely more traditional and while there may be difficulty or harships in them, some of the more traditional elements come into play sooner rather than later. Until then though, happy reading out there. 

[zzzz50]

1 hour ago, LostBBoyBear said:

I am very sorry to hear that but I understand. I knew going into this story that it would be a risk. It's one of the reasons actually that I've written so much Diaper Dimension content... you basically can torture your characters but baby them at the same time. For this one, however, I had to put myself in the shoes of *gasp* someone who actually has a choice in the matter and who doesn't like diapers, so wouldn't therefore willingly choose them. I do promise that they are coming around the bend... sometime in the next two weeks, but I understand the difficulty in sustaining this story without the more traditional elements of this site. If I am to be so bold, you may consider coming back once we get further in the story with all that is coming, but no worries if not. That is completely your decision. 

Take heart in the fact though that all three of my next stories are definitely more traditional and while there may be difficulty or harships in them, some of the more traditional elements come into play sooner rather than later. Until then though, happy reading out there. 

Thanks for being understanding, I really try to not make negative comments about stories on the site as you clearly have much more talent than I ever will. For some reason this story makes me incredibly uncomfortable, meaning it is actually good writing to provoke emotions. It is just not the emotion I want in my life currently.

[LostBBoyBear]

2 hours ago, zzzz50 said:

Thanks for being understanding, I really try to not make negative comments about stories on the site as you clearly have much more talent than I ever will. For some reason this story makes me incredibly uncomfortable, meaning it is actually good writing to provoke emotions. It is just not the emotion I want in my life currently.

Absolutely no worries! This is one of those stories that I almost want to make people uncomfortable and cry in a 'good way.' I also have other stories (which I may or may not be a little more invested in with how well they are received), so I am almost using this as a guide to see what works and what doesn't. I love my happy endings and stories full of love and cuddles. It's coming here, and I tried to experiment at one point with putting more hope or typical themes in the beginning but it just didnt make sense. So, I completely understand. 

Also... I hear you on not wanting this type of story in your life. My next three are definitely more of a 'happy ending' type, because I think we can all agree here that life can be pretty brutal sometimes and 'escaping' into a story is sometimes needed. Until those next stories though, stay strong.

[Guilend]

I wasn’t sure I’d enjoy this story after the first chapter so I waited a few chapters before reading and I’m actually find it a bit thrilling. I do enjoy the psychological aspects of it. Like how the ones with the most starting points appear to think they’re better than everyone else. I bet they don’t even realize everyone started with different points and just think half the group are stupid since I don’t see them finding a reason to ask their AI companion about it like the protagonist did. Which means they’re more likely to spend their points a little recklessly and end up in a much worse situation by the end of the year. While those with less points have learned to survive from day 1 on fewer points. 
 

I am curious about the students. There’s a few statements that make me think that they have rules that they have to follow, some have already been mentioned, but I think some have not, like back talking the caregiver. And if they break those rules the caregiver can discipline them. I am certain of this, so I’m curious what punishment they are allowed to give students and what are the boundaries they have to stay within when punishing them. 
 

The nice student that’s helping Jack, I feel like there’s more to her arrangement with the caregiver than she said. One thing I noticed is the system is setup with a balance. If something is done to you, you get the opposite as well. Like something bad happens, you get a reword, if something good happens, you get something bad or negative happen. I have a feeling that her arrangement has more negative consequences that she didn’t mention besides just not getting points. 

[Bonsai]

Regarding the watchtowers out of the bunker, my feeling is that the lethal threat is a bluff. I mean: why do they need to use lethal rounds, when they could shoot you with tranquilizers? Plus, there are many other non-lethal ways to stop you other than shooting.

It looks more like a system to give a covert way out to those willing to attempt suicide after full mental breakdown.