Chapter 1 — Still Standing
...What did they do to me?
I made it this far, why can’t I handle putting on a goddamn shirt? Sure, it’s dark, I’m freaking out, my hair has grown too damn long, and my fingers are shaking, of course I’d have a hard time, but this? Every time I think I got the button in the hole, I’m missing by more than a finger. I’m just trying to get some clothes on me, and all I manage is rubbing my nipples with coarse fabric. It’s driving me insane! Even walking is a pain, I almost lost my balance three times since I left that pod. I’d like to chalk it up as being able to move for the first time in a long while, but I know it’s worse than that. They messed up my brain.
The last thing even remotely normal I remember was being asked by a customer to meet him face to face. Not something that happens often when you’re a graphics designer working online, but the offer was too much to refuse. I’m pretty sure I was drugged by surprise, because next thing I know, I was on a hospital gurney and everything was spinning. I asked if I was in an accident, and I think they answered yes, but it’s all a blur. They injected me a a lot of things, and forced me to drink something sweet when I tried to complain. It was way too sweet, made me all dizzy. I’m pretty sure they got my name wrong, too. They called me some name ending with -y. Becky? Daisy? I’m Brooke. Brooke Wendell.
Then at some point I remember a bit clearer than the rest, two nurses took me out of the hospital bed and force-fed me a lot of the dizzying syrup. Then they moved me through hallways, out of my damn gourd. It stopped looking like a hospital pretty fast, in fact there were a lot of men staring at me. I must have been naked cause I tried to hide. I’m pretty sure the bitch nurses said crazy stuff like...
“No, Daisy, dontcha hide now!” I’m pretty sure it wasn’t Daisy, but let’s say it was. “You’re very cute and sexy, it’s normal to be stared at. Look at how big your boobies are now!”
“Yes, they are!” Said the other nurse. “You must be proud...”
Which is crazy, because I’m looking at them right this instant, and even in this darkness I can positively say they’re still my good old A-cup. As if I need anything more. Though now that I think about it, they did look just completely crazy, those nurses. Their white uniform was very clearly a porn costume. Huge cleavage, exposing the belly, tied on the front with a flimsy knot, miniskirt, you know the type. And their chest...God, they weren’t in any position to call my surfboard big. They weren’t women, they were characters in a porn flick. Even the way they talked seemed smutty.
Anyway...They led me to a dark room, where that godforsaken pod was. Not a glass tube filled with carbonated water or anything, something horizontal, full of machinery outlining a female silhouette.
“Dontcha worry hun, this will get your pretty lil’ head up to speed. Ya wouldn’t want to be all borin’ and stuff with that new bod, right sweetums?”
They put me inside, and I fit in snugly. The machines closed around my legs and arms with barely any space left, and my head was put inside a helmet that opened and closed tightly around my head, too. There was a gas mask around my mouth, nose and chin, speakers around my ears. It smelled like flowers and cotton candy. In my ears was only meaningless chatter. I don’t remember much after that. The gas must have been drugged, because I just drifted in and out of things since that moment.
It was like dreaming, except the dream was on a screen, not inside my head. About as distinct as a real dream, though. I think it has something to do with the nurses. Yeah, yeah! I dreamt about bouncing up and down, having a lot of fun despite feeling one hell of a weight on my chest. There was music, too...Shitty, brainless bubblegum pop music, and I was not just listening it, I was bouncing in rhythm and...Urgh. Singing along. Me.
Goddamn, was this machine making me dream I was one of those nurses? Trying to turn me into one of them? What kind of world have I been living in? That’s crazy. but...That dream, I’m still hearing the goddamn music. Did it...get to me somehow? Is this related to how my hands are as useless as blown-up gloves? No...No, it can’t be. I’m clearly still me. I was completely out of it while they were trying to hypnotize me, and, feeling way too happy for how deep in crap I was, but I’m still me.
I have the alarm to thank for that. A few moments ago, the mist lifted off my mind and an alarm started blaring. The pod and all its components opened, but I didn’t bail right away, oh no...I kept squirming inside, eyes half closed, humming. Only after a solid minute did I break out of the spell and get up. I let my feet do the thinking next, and though I did almost trip over as mentioned before, I managed to find a room with some clean laundry. Clean laundry I can’t bring myself to goddamn button up! Get in, you piece of crap! Aaaargh!
...Brooke, you’re not the screaming type, you’d better not start while there could be guards around. This alert can’t be for me, since it’s what woke me up, but they have to know it releases their prisoners. I’m on borrowed time here.
Okay, just breathe. This pod scrambled something in my brain for sure, but I can’t let it beat me. I won’t let them recapture me and finish the job. Just...get dressed, the rest will come later. If only this bloody pop music would stop ringing in the back of my head...
Okay, I managed to get dressed. It’s clearly men’s clothing and is about as comfortable as a loofah glove, but whatever. I just need to not be naked and get out of here. The latter is going to be problematic, though. I can hear guards around. Footsteps, of course, but also...
“The new slave has escaped! She won’t even obey orders at this level of reprogramming. Find her and put her back in there!”
So yeah, I need to haul butt, now. I can’t hear the footsteps because of that damn alarm. The lingering music from the pod doesn’t help either...I have to risk it.
I peek out of the room, and see a guy with a stun gun walking away. Now’s my chance! I throw myself out of the doorway and into the opposite direction. Luckily, there’s a lit emergency exit sign at the end of the hallway. God please don’t let there be anyone in the way...Nobody. I can see the door, and make a beeline for it.
“Wha...Hey! She’s here! She’s getting to the exit!”
Crap, crap crap! I put all I have into my legs and ram into the double doors shoulder first. They easily give way, and I’m now outside. It’s dark, cold, and silent. Do I try to scream for help? No. There are floodlights blazing the sky somewhere in the close distance. A concert. Those assholes will never follow me there! Stop thinking now, run like hell!
I made it.
My feet are killing me but I made it. A close call, too. They caught up with me just when I reached the concert venue, I barely had time to get into an open service door and bolt it behind me. Wasted no time getting into the public area afterward. Good news is, I saw them stop and turn tail as soon as I made it. Bad news is, all that running has made the fabric rub my nipples hard and...Goddamit, this isn’t the time to be all hot and bothered, Brooke. Especially not with all these young people around.
Yeah, it’s clearly not a classical concert. Looking at the people in the hall, the guys are all the “hip and cool” type and the women are skanks. Let me guess, some dumb, sterilized rock band is slated to play here, isn’t it? A heavy metal concert would be decidedly more unwashed. Everyone is chatting happily, couples are all wuvvy duvvy, I hear giggling every five seconds...Spare me. My body’s getting with the program, too. I have to find more breathy clothes, those are driving me mad! Strange, though...I don’t usually dress all that differently. The injections they gave me must have made my body super sensitive or something...Dammit. I was going to be a sex slave, wasn’t I?
...Let’s just ignore those sluts. I’d rather be captured than chat up one of those people to ask for their phone. Let’s hope there’s a payphone somewhere.
Alright, I found one, it’s next to a small row of shops in the back of the venue. I didn’t know that was a thing...Then again, I obviously don’t know anything about concerts. There’s a snack bar and an outright bar, which make sense, but also a beauty salon. What the hell? Are skanks really that obsessed with how their hair is they’d go to the salon at a concert? There are customers, too...
...What the hell am I doing, ogling at a beauty salon?! Let’s call Dad. Luckily, there’s some change in the vest I borrowed. I’ll consider that as payment for rubbing my chest. Alright, let’s...
...Huh? The phone number keys...What the hell are they saying? I just can’t read the keys, what the hell are those twisty things? Who made a fantasy phone? Ah, there’s a phonebook under there. I open it, hoping to find explanations...But all I see is cryptic symbols everywhere.
A dark suspicious starts growing in my heart. No, no way, they didn’t...I turn around, look for a sign. A guy with one of those inscribed t-shirts walks past me and starts using another payphone. He doesn’t any problems. I bend over a bit to read the big letters on the back of his t-shirt. It’s just a word, a short word with five letters I’m definitely familiar with, as in I saw them before, regularly. But I have no idea what sound they make.
I look back to the phonebook. Same thing. It looks like a normal one, but those symbols hold no meaning. No...No way. They can’t have made me forget this. I have to remember my parent’s number at least, I’ll just compare the symbols to my memory. Let’s see, it was...Fa fa fa...Something like ah...Ah...Ahn? What does an an look like again? A circle? A square?
I feel dizzy. My knees give out. Enough, no use pretending I don’t get what’s happening.
I can’t read.
I can’t read. I can’t fucking read. Not just that, I don’t even know numbers anymore. Those bastards. I didn’t just dream of bouncing in that pod. I was being wiped clean of basic knowledge. Now it’s clear I was to be a sex slave. Horny, illiterate...What else was I supposed to be? What else have they already turn me into? Even if I get rescued, am I still able to live a free human life...?
Bastards...Why? Why me? I’m just a graphics designer, I’m not even cute, why me, you fuckers?!
I look at the crowd, despondent. Not even the guy using the phone right beside me has noticed me crying. Well, I am quiet and unremarkable. Should have been a guarantee nobody would abduct me and brainwash me into being a barely sentient sex doll, dammit. Still, enough weeping. The phone has become an arcane device, out of grasp for my devolved brain. How do I contact my parents now? Ask someone? I forgot their number, a fat load of good that would do me. Though...Are normal humans able to find a list of active police lieutenants in Des Moines? I think so...I remember some kind of computer research. Okay, so, who would be able to help m...
Oh, crap on a stick. My pursuers are searching through the crowd. Their chief must have told them to ignore the danger of discovery. I guess I really wouldn’t want to let a halfway-converted sex slave escape, were I preposterously evil. Crap, I have to hide while I get my friggin’ brain working. But I don’t know this place, I’ll be caught if I pick a locker or something. What do I do? What do I do?!
Wait, I got it. I’ve got to disguise myself. Look like a concert goer. I noticed a hairdresser earlier. I hate makeovers, but that’s exactly what I need right now. Yeah! Good going, Brooke.
“Can I help you?”
I peek out the window again. Looks like my pursuers didn’t think of searching the shops yet. Alright. Looks like this is the one situation in my life where talking to a bimbo salon worker is going to be useful. I mean, look at that blonde. She’s at work, and she’s dressed like she’s going stud hunting at a nightclub. Hooker haltertop, mini dress, high heels...Though, to tell the truth, I’d rather be half naked too if that meant my privates wouldn’t chafe so much. I’m seriously repressing a moan here, for crying out loud...
“Miss?”
“Oh, huh...Ahem, right, huh...I’m in trouble. Can you make me look different real quick? People are after me.”
“Oooh? Well, I can give ya a full makeover in the back room, I’ll tell Cindy to mind the store. By the way, I’m Lisa!”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s great, let’s go.”
Luckily, she doesn’t take offense from my rushed answer. That’s good because I’d hate to explain the whole situation to her. Anyway, she takes me into a separate room with a very comfy looking hair-washing chair, a regular chair in front of the mirror, and one of those hairdryers that goes over your head. Why does this need to be separate from the salon that already has those, I don’t know, but who cares right now.
“So, what style do ya want?” Chipperly asks the blonde as I sit down into the hair washing machine.
“Whatever, I need to look different. Shorter hair too, it grew way too long...”
“Yeah, you’ve got a bad case of bed hair here, honey. Oh, you’re a natural redhead!”
...Huh?
“What? No, I’m dark haired.”
“You’re colored dark alright, but your roots aren’t lying, honey.”
Shit, looks like I’m not done discovering the new me. Well, I guess that compared to horny moron, redhead isn’t so bad.
“Yeah, okay, you got me. Cut it and get rid of the coloration, that’ll be a start.”
“Ookay! Just relax, I’ll take the remover.”
Alright, now to hope those bastards don’t think of coming here.
My disheveled, overgrown hair is collapsing under the water. It’s just cold enough to take the edge off the fire in my nipples. Am I relaxed? Not really, I’m not eager to be dolled up by a tramp, but yeah, at least I can catch my breath here. Too bad that puts me back to listening to this shitty pop music in my head. That machine carved it into my head, didn’t it? What’s the damn purpose? Keeping your helpless, brain dead sex slave entertained? Fuck you, I want my literacy back...Bastards...
“...Are you crying, honey?”
“’m pursued, remember.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry...”
That shitty tune is not even complete, the melody is clearly flat as hell in some obvious places. Those are a song’s instrumentals, no mistake about it. Seriously, what the hell were they thinking...
Ah, she’s applying the color remover now. Bye darkness...Hey, wait, I know it’s not a coloration, only my new hair is red, she’s going to notice something’s...Something’s...
Wow, this feels really nice...
“What was your name again?”
“Hmm...B...Brooke...”
“Okay Brookie. Just relax, let the lotion work.”
Lisa stops scrubbing my hair, but it stills feels nice. The lotion’s foaming hard, makes my head tingle. She comes in front of me, smiles, and reaches for my shirt to unbutton it. She runs her girly fingers along my chest, brushing against my nipples...Hmmm...Cut it out, I’m horny enough as is...I’m really going to...To...
“Aaaaah...”
“Ah, that was a cute moan, honey.”
“C-cut it out, put the vest back on...Worked hard to...Aaanh...”
“No way, you’re about to get a lot bigger. The star of this concert is already in ya, ya just have to let her blossom.”
Blossom? Nah, all I feel is buzzing...That lotion’s really strange...Can’t focus at all...
“Don’t worry, Brookie, I’m gonna make you reaaal fun.”
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