4th of December, 2017darjeeling: fuck fuck fuckdarjeeling: css about gender dysphoria and things todaydarjeeling: didn’t go welldarjeeling: didn’t go well at allrees-mogged: Oh shitrees-mogged: What did they saydarjeeling: it’s all the usual stuffdarjeeling: it’s a mental disorder but it doesn’t mean it’s wrongdarjeeling: just that it’s differentdarjeeling: even if it can impact people’s lives negativelydarjeeling: some therapy might help alleviate some of the worst symptomsdarjeeling: but transition is the best treatmentdarjeeling: they called it one of the most miraculous psychological treatments currently known to mandarjeeling: they had picturesdarjeeling: boy on the left darjeeling: pretty girl on the rightdarjeeling: and likedarjeeling: fuckdarjeeling: I want it so baddarjeeling: I need it so baddarjeeling: I tried to look into the mirror today and imagine what could bedarjeeling: but I don’t look like your average boydarjeeling: I can’t afford all the nice clothes the girl in the pictures haddarjeeling: and the make-up and the haircut and everythingdarjeeling: and like I’m happy for themdarjeeling: but I wish I could do all that toodisciple-of-bnchard: you really really dontdisciple-of-bnchard: you cant let a fetish dominate your life like thatdarjeeling: you know it’s not a fetish for medarjeeling: you know I want to kill myself when I look in the mirrordarjeeling: when I can bring myself to do so in the first pcedarjeeling: you have this whole timeline of all the ways in which testosterone ruined your bodydarjeeling: I don’tdarjeeling: I couldn’tdarjeeling: I barely know what I look like nowdarjeeling: and especially not back thendarjeeling: I don’t have pictures or selfiesdarjeeling: because it’s a mental fucking illness Raydarjeeling: one I never fucking wanted but have to put up with anywaysdarjeeling: so please don’t call it a fetishdarjeeling: not nowrees-mogged: You’re fine, Darrees-mogged: It’s fucking hard to live with this bullshit mental illnessrees-mogged: Ray has it a bit easier than you so he doesn’t really get itdisciple-of-bnchard: yeah because im agprees-mogged: Because you’re barely 19 and Dar’s pushing 20rees-mogged: You don’t fucking get itrees-mogged: The changes are starting to hit fast nowrees-mogged: It’s not a coincidence that a plurality of trannies realise what’s really going on with them around this agerees-mogged: Dar, are you okay?rees-mogged: Are you somewhere safe?darjeeling: on my phone on the toiletdarjeeling: I’m managingdarjeeling: just a bit dysphoricrees-mogged: just a bit?rees-mogged: You sound like you’re about to troon out Dardarjeeling: troon out howdarjeeling: I can’t afford hrtdarjeeling: I can’t afford makeupdarjeeling: I can’t afford new clothesdarjeeling: I can’t afford the surgeries I’ll needdarjeeling: I can barely afford to pay for food and rentdarjeeling: and that’s because of my maintenance grantsdarjeeling: once those are gone, welldarjeeling: better hope I can find a job working for the NHSdarjeeling: if they’re even hiring psychologists at that pointdarjeeling: they’re barely keeping a&e afloat why would they invest in mental healthcarerees-mogged: You’d be so good at your job don’t even worry about itrees-mogged: They’d be so lucky to have yourees-mogged: There’s no reason why such a smart well-adjusted young man like you couldn’t get a job like thatrees-mogged: As long as you’re qualifiedrees-mogged: Which you will berees-mogged: You’re almost done with your degreerees-mogged: Just a few more monthsdarjeeling: I knowdarjeeling: doesn’t stop me from worryingdarjeeling: even if I know I won’t want to troon out anymore once I have a job like thatdarjeeling: I’ll hopefully be a bit less depresseddarjeeling: be more proud of myselfdarjeeling: have something to actually live fordarjeeling: too much to lose with a job like that anywaydarjeeling: but it’s really hard rndarjeeling: especially with those cssesdarjeeling: and all the lies and false hope they try to offer usdarjeeling: they said you don’t need to have gender dysphoria to be transdarjeeling: it’s so fucking insultingdarjeeling: sure, some people who have transitioned were just AGPdarjeeling: they’re doing it for fucking fundarjeeling: because they get off on the taboo or on crossdressingdarjeeling: meanwhile there are those of us who would transition out of necessitydarjeeling: because we would kill ourselves if we didn’tdarjeeling: and so many still do because they can’t transitiondarjeeling: or because they can’t passdarjeeling: both, in my casedarjeeling: but those fetishist freaks probably get off on not passingdarjeeling: and like it’s one thing to do it at homedarjeeling: but your whole life?darjeeling: exposing everyone to it?darjeeling: degrading the whole community of people just trying to survive with a debilitating mental illness?darjeeling: making us look like freaks?darjeeling: it’s so fucking disgustingdarjeeling: and I hate how all these cis teachers and professors just push the idea that it’s all the samedarjeeling: they fucking wish it was probablydarjeeling: makes it easier to pretend we’re going to assault women in the bathroom or whateverdarjeeling: but they say it anyway because they don’t care about usdarjeeling: we’re just mentally ill trannies to themdarjeeling: disposable at bestdarjeeling: degenerate threats to society at worstdisciple-of-bnchard: dont be so harsh on us agpsdisciple-of-bnchard: its not the same as what youre going throughdisciple-of-bnchard: but agp is still a dangerous paraphiliadisciple-of-bnchard: it will destroy your brain if youre not carefuldisciple-of-bnchard: thats why theyre hinting at agp like that and not just saying itdisciple-of-bnchard: the outside world for all its sins has decided to treat it like a infohazarddisciple-of-bnchard: which it isdisciple-of-bnchard: but they cant just tell potential agps in the audience that its okay to transitiondisciple-of-bnchard: thats just letting the paraphilia dominate your lifedisciple-of-bnchard: and ruin it toodarjeeling: fuckdarjeeling: you’re rightdarjeeling: I really should have said something during the cssdarjeeling: what they’re doing is so dangerousdarjeeling: fuck fuck fuckdarjeeling: there's another css on this thursdaydarjeeling: maybe I should say something thendisciple-of-bnchard: you shoulddisciple-of-bnchard: i can write something up and dm it to youdisciple-of-bnchard: and you can just read thatdisciple-of-bnchard: ill add citations dwdarjeeling: that’d be really helpfuldarjeeling: thank you Raydarjeeling: sorry for melting down earlierdarjeeling: feeling a little better now

  11th of December, 2017darjeeling: update on st weeks disasterdarjeeling: have been removed from the coursedarjeeling: I’m so fuckedrees-mogged: Removed???rees-mogged: Fucking hellrees-mogged: What did Ray make you say???darjeeling: hate speech apparentlydisciple-of-bnchard: not my fault they cant handle the truthdarjeeling: They’ve already banned me from student org shitdarjeeling: for transphobiadarjeeling: even removed me from the psych third year whatsapp groupdarjeeling: everyone gave me weird disgusted looks todaydarjeeling: how am I supposed to just attend my cssesdarjeeling: how am I supposed to retake that mandatory courserees-mogged: Free speech defencerees-mogged: I’ll help you write up the formatrees-mogged: Which specific articles to mention, Equality Act etc.darjeeling: I’m not sure I want to be accepting things like that anymoredarjeeling: not rndarjeeling: not your faultdarjeeling: just don’t want to risk anything right nowdarjeeling: look at how well this all wentdarjeeling: better to not poke the hornet's nest moredarjeeling: it’s best if I just disappear for a bitdarjeeling: I’ll have to retake csses from this period anywaysdarjeeling: might as well do all of them next yeardarjeeling: maybe they’ll have forgotten then and stop hating merees-mogged: Might be a good idearees-mogged: Should give you some time to recover toorees-mogged: Something like this has to be traumaticrees-mogged: I’m so sorry this all happenedrees-mogged: you really didn’t deserve this kind of treatmentdisciple-of-bnchard: you shouldnt be sorry that some snowfkes are offended by agp as a conceptdisciple-of-bnchard: and dar shouldnt suffer any consequencesdisciple-of-bnchard: this is so fucked updisciple-of-bnchard: i hate this country so muchdisciple-of-bnchard: people have gone fucking insanerees-mogged: Hate to agree with Rayrees-mogged: But he’s rightdisciple-of-bnchard: whos rightrees-mogged: You are.disciple-of-bnchard: the period! disciple-of-bnchard: hes real mad having to admit thatrees-mogged: Shut up Ray we’re here for Darrees-mogged: Dar get yourself some nice takeoutrees-mogged: Don’t worryrees-mogged: I’ll payrees-mogged: A big fatty meal doesn’t solve anything but it does help you fall asleeprees-mogged: Been a rough week and you deserve to indulge anywaysdarjeeling: already had some curry earlierdarjeeling: but thanksdarjeeling: gd to have you twodarjeeling: sorry for getting mad at you raydarjeeling: very emotional rndisciple-of-bnchard: its fine no offense takendisciple-of-bnchard: if theres anything i can do just ask ok?darjeeling: yesdarjeeling: i willdarjeeling: gonna have a y down for nowdarjeeling: thank you so much

  17th of February, 2019"Oh, thank you!" Kelynen accepts one of the bowls Amy had just filled with some fresh vegetables with a broad, welcoming smile, then quickly turns around to look over the other things she'd been doing.

  Somehow, by some dark magic Amy cannot even begin to comprehend, her sponsor is managing to boil rice in a rather intimidatingly big pan whilst simultaneously also cooking some kind of spicy sauce in another and some vegan chicken in a smaller but open-topped pan Amy definitely doesn't know the proper name of.

  She could do one of those things. Maybe. If she were allowed near the AGA, that is, which she isn’t. Apparently she’s ‘a real doofus’ and would just get herself hurt. Sure, that’s true, at least when it comes to these things, but they really didn’t have to say it like that.

  Cooking with her sponsor is just another part of what has slowly become a routine over two weeks since she's been let out of the cells. She cleans, she cooks, she helps empty the boxes full of groceries delivered to the manor weekly, she reads the feminist literature provided to them and writes the requisite essays.

  Sometimes, Kelynen drags her along to do some make-up or make her wear some outfits which aren't a maid dress. She'll put on a film and call it a girly afternoon off. Amy doesn't mind it much. It's nicer than working.

  The work feels non-stop. Rationally, she knows the hours aren't so bad: nine to three, except when she's tasked with helping cook dinner, like today. That’s just two nights per week, and they get the other afternoons off.

  But they don't get any weekends, and they also get a bit too much homework when considering the otherwise full time work week, not to mention the constant threat of Eira just showing up and saying their beds haven't been made properly, or that there’s dishes they’d neglected to hand wash, or that they should have let the conditioner sit for a few more minutes— she doesn't really feel like they have the option to properly rex all too often.

  When she does have time off, she spends it rexing with Faith. They don’t really do much during that time, though: both of them are content to just hang out in each other's general vicinity, leaning against each other and holding hands as they watch television or Amy reads a book.

  It's not like they feel comfortable doing too much more with Jenny around to watch them. Nor do they really have the freedom to go elsewhere to do something romantic, as much as they might want to. It sucks. Amy really wishes she’d had the opportunity to start dating Faith earlier, before their lives had been so irreversibly altered. Before they had to put up with the diktats and compints of their roommate, ever so displeased that the two are dating. It’s ‘really fucked up’, apparently, despite her ‘not being surprised’ by the development.

  Jenny stares at them, sometimes.

  They can't even do the thing where they pretend to be girlfriends anymore! Jenny discovered them once, a week ago, and she lectured the two of them about just how dangerous autogynephilia is. It destroys brains.

  Exposing Faith to that, letting her think it might be possible or even desirable to be a girlfriend, is going to eat away at her friend's brain until nothing is left except pure horny desire. She’d become a toy ensved by its own desires. She can't risk Faith becoming that, or Amy, and especially not herself, Jenny cimed.

  Amy knows the risks; it’s just hard to care when the end result will be the same no matter what she does. AGP or not, she’ll be a sex toy, so might as well py pretend with her boyfriend until then.

  But Jenny disapproved, and they had to stop, even if it was the only thing Amy’s been able to enjoy during the past two months.

  Nothing sts forever. Especially not at the manor.

  So she works. Just does as she's told, and not much more, like Faith seems to have internalised. There's no real reason for Amy to try to do more, anyhow— there's no real reason for Amy to do much of anything, other than the mere avoidance of punishment.

  For the first time ever, she doesn't have anything to work towards, though that feels more like a trap than it is liberating. If nothing you do matters, if everything is decided anyways, then what is there to live for?

  Faith must have felt this lost at sea for a year now, ever since she spoke openly about autogynephilia, and she can understand why it was debilitating. Amy never felt hopeless before, but now she does, and so does Faith. Being with a partner doesn’t solve such issues. It just eases them. Makes it more bearable to wake up in the morning.

  All she can do to avoid falling into total dysfunction is follow orders, so follow orders she does. It's all rather inoffensive stuff anyways— right now, she's helping Kelynen make some curry for everyone at the manor.

  Amy is trusted to properly help in the kitchen now. Well, not quite properly, but Kelynen can make her useful for more tasks than measuring weights and volumes of various ingredients, sending her to fetch some ingredients from the storage room, or making her stand around and watch as Kelynen does something as close to correctly as she can.

  They let her chop vegetables now! Like, actually cut tomatoes and cucumbers and bell peppers with a big, very sharp knife. Sure, they gave her this totally condescending lesson about how to use it — as if she was going to cut herself — and she needs to wear these stupid chainmail gloves to make sure she doesn’t lose any limb in the process, but they still gave her a potentially dangerous weapon. Which makes it even more absurd that her sponsor has her back turned to her! Like Amy is supposed to be trustworthy!

  Perhaps she is trustworthy, at least in so far as they know for a fact she wouldn't dare hurt Loonie and had long ago renounced violence as an option. It’s not like she’ll stoop to that point, definitely not at this point, but the situation still lingers in her mind for other reasons.

  Being trusted with a weapon really feels like she has been judged broken enough by the powers-that-be to not cause any real trouble anymore.

  But she's not broken, at least not in the way the literature usually uses that term. In those stories broken means fully accepting one's fate and learning to love it. She's not there yet, at least, she doesn't feel like she is. She hates what is being done to her, at least in those moments she manages to ignore the siren song of her mental disorder and paraphilia.

  She has stopped resisting, however. She has given up on the idea of ever escaping. Faith doesn't want to escape, for reasons she doesn't want to say but which Amy can broadly guess, and now that they're, like, boy?friends she can't exactly leave Faith alone in the hands of Elle Lambert and her torture maids. With the knowledge she has, it’d be morally wrong not to stay and help alleviate the suffering of the person most precious to her in the world.

  Not that Amy is any good at morality — if she was, she probably wouldn't have ended up here, at least if Kelynen and Eira are to be believed — but she does know she would never be able to forgive herself if she abandoned Faith just so she can have a mildly more comfortable life of her own.

  If it would even be any comfortable at all. If her theory of this programme being backed up with some serious paramilitary forces is correct, they might well be hunted down to the ends of the earth if they, by some miracle, made it out of the building. Amy and Jenny could well end up dead and as such be left completely unable to help Faith, even though she needs it. And she definitely doesn’t need the extra pain of knowing her two best friends in the world are both dead.

  Faith mourned her one too many times already.

  Amy's suicide had been so effectively faked that the police closed the case after just a few hours of searching, finding evidence that her body would have floated out to sea by that point— they'd run articles about her death in the local student press one day ter. Faith and Jenny heard about the news, and apparently it made the former go radio-silent for weeks, even prior to her kidnapping. Jenny worried that it had broken something in Faith, that she might decide to do something dangerous, a feeling that only subsided the moment they were reunited. Luckily, it’d just pushed her into an even deeper depression, and she couldn’t be bothered to do much beyond the most basic self-care in the two weeks between Amy’s ‘death’ and her own kidnapping.

  The idea of making her go through all that again is unconscionable.

  "Amy?" Loonie embraces her from behind, carefully undoing her iron grip on the knife and putting it a safe distance away. "Are you okay?"

  "I'm fine." Amy mumbles. "Just a little dissociation, is all."

  "You're crying." Kelynen turns Amy around and runs a finger across her wet cheeks.

  Oh. So she is. "Don't worry about it. It's just stupid estrogen."

  "But I am worrying about it, Amy..." Kelynen frowns at her. "You don't cry much. And definitely not out of the blue whilst cooking. Something's up, and it’s best if you talk about it.”

  "Just stuff and things." Amy looks away from her. Kelynen is just about the st person she wants to be talking to about this.

  Actually, no, Eira would be. She really doesn’t want to tell her just how angry she is that they’d hurt Faith so fucking badly for no bloody reason. But she’s going to ask her about this during their conversation ter this week— it’s too enticing not to, at least for Eira. Amy knows that the head sponsor stays on top of everything that happens, with the sponsors writing a report about their charges every single day, and this is something that definitely makes it in. It’s not even something she can bme her sponsor for doing. Amy really doesn’t want to be disobeying the woman either.

  "Stuff and things you'd rather not tell me about?" Kelynen asks.

  Amy nods. “Very much so.”

  "Then I'm not going to make you. Just, tell me if you need a break, okay?" Of course Kelynen isn't going to make Amy tell her what's up. She has someone else to do that for her. Someone who enjoys doing it much more.

  "I'd rather just keep working. A break would just make things worse." Amy says. "Gives me time to think when I don't particurly want to be thinking.”

  "You're really going through it, aren't you? You shouldn't be bottling those feelings up, but..."

  "Please? I'll talk about it when I feel ready to." Amy hates lying to Kelynen like this, because the woman is so genuine and honest around her, but she really doesn't want to tell them her greatest fears— they could be used against her. “Just not now. Probably not tomorrow, either.”

  "Please do. I don't like to see you hurting like this." Kelynen pulls her close again, caressing the back of her head like she would a crying child. "But if you insist on doing some more work, you—" She looks around, thinking out loud. "You can clean up the kitchen aisle. I can handle the rest of the cooking. Just, take care, okay?"

  "Yes, ma'am." Amy says semi-teasingly and offers a small smile, hoping that it's enough to get Loonie off her back. There might be a few tears on her cheeks, but if a little humour works to give Jenny some space, then it might work for her too.

  "You can't ma'am me, Amy Finch— I'm barely one year older than you." She says, offering a simirly fragile smile, willing to give Amy the room she asked for.

  Kelynen is only a little spooked when the arm clock goes off. She rushes off to check on the meal, which quite miraculously hadn't been too burnt— not in any way that couldn’t be expertly hidden by an experienced, if still quite consistently clumsy cook.

  21st of February, 2019Amy hadn't expected that being back in Eira's office after two months would be as unsettling as it was. The gap in time between the two visits doesn't seem to have been particurly intentional: it just so happened that Amy was spending time in the cells for two of pnned fortnightly meetings, and that the meeting on the seventh of this month was somewhat rushed and performed over a cup of tea in the kitchen, as Eira had to leave for Almsworth in the afternoon.

  She asked her about her retionship with Faith, drawing a few anecdotes out of Amy that just confirmed her crush might have existed for a bit longer than she would otherwise admit. There also was the suggestion that she should learn to accept that she likes certain things, and, if she’s feeling really adventurous, act on those feelings too. By talking to people about it, for example, even if realising the feelings exist and are normal is plenty for now.

  It reminded her a lot about something her mum had told her when she was fourteen years old. Mum had assumed Amy was into boys at the time. That ended up being very wrong, so the likelihood that Eira is seeing something that doesn’t exist is simirly high.

  Another such a tea time discussion would have been much preferable to Amy, at least compared to the alternative of meeting Eira on the woman's own terms— that is, behind a locked door, Amy sitting on the bare and rather uncomfortable wooden chair whilst she gets to tower over her from behind a rge, stately desk and sitting on a very comfortable looking swivel chair.

  It feels like more has changed than stayed the same, though.

  The st time she'd visited her here the head sponsor was still very much moving in, the room left bereft of many of the details it now contains, instead filled with cardboard box after cardboard box. The liquor cabinet looks more full than ever, with a dozen more gsses than Eira would ever need.

  There's a comfortable couch taking up the length of the wall between it and the much more administrative cabinet on the other side of the room, but that's not what really catches Amy's attention.

  No, that would be a painting of a heraldic emblem above the couch. It seems to be the coat of arms of the Lamberts. Fleurs-de-lis surround a white lion on a blue banner which she vaguely recognised as being from somewhere in the south of France — Gascony, perhaps? — with a golden caduceus id horizontally above the banner, as if it is holding it up. The Latin phrase fortes fortuna iuvat — 'fortune favours the bold' — is written below it, as red text on a white banner.

  Forcefem is certainly bold, Amy has to give the Lamberts that. But whichever ancestor of Elle's chose that motto clearly wasn't that original, picking such a famous Latin motto over something feminisation-reted— though she presumes that this has been a more recent hobby of theirs. They wouldn't quite have the medical expertise to get any real feminisation done before the 1960s.

  Amy can't help but giggle at the concept of a Pygmalion-esque Victorian or Edwardian era forcefem operation. Pick a random boy off London’s streets, put him in a dress, teach him the proper nguage and diction of an aristocratic dy, and send her off to get married to some man who presumably has a very nasty surprise on their wedding night.

  "What's so funny?" Eira asks, cruelly, knowing exactly what she's doing by asking the question: putting Amy in a really tough spot. Because she can't just say what's so funny, because it's about forced feminisation, but she can't exactly say there's nothing funny either, as Eira always wants an answer. So she has to waffle.

  "Well, it's, um, you see," Terrible start. Eira is going to see through this immediately. She might fall for a half-truth, though. "I just hadn't expected the Lamberts to have such a generic motto?"

  It feels like the head sponsor is pinning her down again with a mere gaze, just as she had that first meeting. That she's being judged for her inappropriate humour, her inability to lie, her unwillingness to come out for her own weaknesses. She can't even fight back anymore. Eira knows that. She knows she has Amy cornered with the mere threat of taking Faith away from her again. Or maybe she has even more ideas for how she can further reduce the thing in front of her, break her further, prepare her for her eventual fate, or whatever she is thinking behind those beautiful blue eyes and that poker face of hers.

  "I'll be sure to pass the review on to Ms. Lambert." Eira says. "So, given you've been quite well behaved, I figure we can leave the topic of cooperating with the programme and focus on more pressing matters. I'm going to let you choose the topic of today's conversation out of two options: either we talk about your past, specifically the actions you took that made you end up in our tender and loving care, or we talk about the fact that you're clearly not feeling well despite our best efforts to give you the comforts you deserve."

  Tender and loving; as if.

  Sure, she could imagine worse circumstances for them to be in — the cells certainly proved those were possible — but to describe what they're going through as anything close to being kind is so absurd she can barely keep a straight face.

  It's obvious what she's going to try to do if she chooses the first option. Convince Amy that she is so fundamentally fwed that being removed from society is a kindness both to her and society at rge, and that where she would otherwise have ended up would be worse. Suicide is the likely option, though she’s not sure Eira would quite dare breach it as a topic, but she could also try to make her believe that her future as a free woman would just have resulted in her being a tool of other, more powerful people, willing to make use of her weaknesses. Weaknesses she knows well.

  That’s an argument Amy would rather avoid, so she bets on the second option instead. It's not a discussion with the risk of actually convincing her, unlike the former.

  "I'd rather talk about how I'm feeling." Amy responds, sounding as uncertain as she is.

  Eira nods, content.

  Amy looks at her, unsure what to do next. Isn't Eira going to ask her a question? Isn’t that how things work in these conversations?

  Their eyes meet for a moment. It's far from a romantic meeting. In fact, it's quite awkward, and Amy feels very watched. But Eira starts smiling more and more, and then she starts softly ughing, quite amused. "You're supposed to be telling me about your feelings, silly girl."

  "Well, as you said, I'm, um, not doing very well." Amy waits for Eira to say something, which she doesn't, implying she probably wants her to continue talking. "Being back with Faith is nice and all, and I do really like spending time with her, but..."

  She pauses for a moment, unsure whether she should be so open with Eira in the first pce.

  For a second there, she was going to talk to the woman ordering her kidnapping and forcible feminisation as if she were a therapist. As if she could be trusted to not abuse that information. Which she obviously can not. She will use every tool in her toolbox against Amy, and that includes the knowledge of the precise things troubling her.

  If she doesn't say anything, Eira will be left to guess, potentially drawing the wrong conclusions — like she had about her repressing certain feelings — which then leaves some kind of opportunity for counterpy on Amy's end.

  Not like she will be doing any counterpy anymore, though.

  Not to mention that the idea of her trying to keep any secret from Eira is na?ve: the woman knows how to make her talk. She could pressure her for hours upon hours if she needed to, night after night, extracting every little nugget of information she could. If she needs to isote Amy to achieve this, she will, and if she needs to starve her, she will do that too.

  Eira would win. She won when Amy refused to wear a maid uniform and she won when she asked Amy to inject herself with estrogen, and there’s not a single shred of evidence that the third round wouldn’t see Amy crack even faster than the first two times.

  Which leaves the conclusion that Amy should be open-hearted, should be willing to pce some trust in her — at least insofar as she will believe that Eira will not punish her unnecessarily if she complies with her requests — and she should be willing to believe that the goal is to be as tender and caring as possible.

  But that just leaves her walking right into the head sponsor's trap! One that Amy knows very well!

  She's read so much about conditioning in the various online stories she's read and it's so obvious that Eira is applying the exact same textbook strategy. It's just a carrot and stick approach.

  Good girls get carrots. They get nice, big beds, soft pillows, a warm duvet, breakfast with their friends, movie nights with their sponsors and comfy pyjamas. Eira comforts them when they feel the need to cry and she holds their hands when they're unable to inject themselves. All they have to do is go along with the programme. All they have to do is do what is asked of them.

  And if they don't, well, then it’s time to start using the stick.

  Amy's much more familiar with the stick, as the 'carrot' dangled in front of her face has mostly been the absence of the tter. She knows that Faith has appreciated what she has been offered a lot more than Amy, once ciming it’s the most luxury she’s ever had— which just leads to the conclusion that she's a spoiled rich girl who really should learn to appreciate the ascetic joys of life more. It’s not an uncomfortable lifestyle. And, sure, it's an absolute privilege for her to finally be able to live with Faith and Jenny, something she's wanted to do for years, but that could also just be two and a half months of conditioning taking its toll—

  That's not a useful line of thought.

  If Eira is indeed conditioning her, and Amy knows she's being conditioned, then she can think through her options: either she accepts the carrot or try to survive the stick. Nothing too complicated, just two alternatives, one with obvious benefits whilst the other is all drawbacks.

  Except that's just an illusion of choice, because both options just lead to her being more conditioned than before! The stick will break her and cause her to submit to the logic of the system imposed upon her. The requirements for the carrot will just continue to be steadily increased until Amy either achieves all the goals Eira wishes her to achieve, or until she runs up against a condition she cannot fulfil and needs the stick to get her across the finish lines again.

  The benefit of choosing the carrot is that it has to be enticing, or at least a real improvement over the stick. The conditioning wouldn't work otherwise. So that means Eira will have to treat her well as long as she behaves. As long as she keeps progressing along the route the sponsors have set out for her.

  The game is rigged, and the house always wins.

  There is no scenario in which Amy doesn't end up being reduced to the status of a toy. There is no scenario in which the same doesn't happen to Faith and Jenny. There is no scenario in which they escape. If they do, they'll just end up dead— death is not an option, not anymore.

  The three of them finish the programme. No ifs, no buts.

  Eira always, always wins. The only choice Amy gets to make is whether she decides to suffer needlessly or make things as easy for herself as possible. Which means she has to tell her the truth.

  "...but?" Eira asks, clearly having waited long enough for Amy to think through something so simple. "What about being with Faith is unsatisfying?"

  Amy can't believe she's actually going through with this. That she’s actually going to be fully honest. "It's not her. She's lovely— it's just, I guess I just don't have anything to really live towards anymore. I know what you're going to say: 'you can live towards being a woman', but I don't want to do that. You know I don't."

  "Mhm." Eira nods. "A temporary objection, to be overcome ter, as you no doubt know."

  She bites her lip. Tries to withhold any of the incredibly pathetic sounds she could have made there. If the realisation that she's fully helpless and at the mercy of whatever Eira has decided for her is one of the hottest things that had ever happened to Amy, then the reminder that the head sponsor was not just aware but willing to gloat about it is the hottest.

  "Now, not to be too nosy, as I'm sure there's a reason you wouldn't have told me already, but I'm just wondering why you say there is nothing left for you to live towards; I was under the impression that you had wanted to escape until not too long ago, and your dearest Jenny still hasn't given up on that hope. Isn't that something to strive for? What changed?"

  "You say that as if you want me to try to escape."

  "What I want is for you to be a happy, fully actualised young woman, living alongside her best friends in a beautiful and caring community of trans women trying to help each other live the best lives they can. Some of these steps can be achieved through a more general programme, as you are subject to, but some of it will require a more personalised approach. You’re all girls with your own personalities and histories, after all. One of the things that stood out about you is ambition. You always intend to leave an impression on people, on society as a whole, and you want to keep improving yourself to do so. On the one hand, it’s left you terribly insecure, but it’s also left you incredibly busy. You need a goal in life to achieve happiness. I'm perfectly content if that goal aligns with mine— but I would also be if you think you need to reject me and my goals as absolutely as you can to have something to work towards. Where you once believed in the tter, you have clearly abandoned that view today. I'm just interested in what caused this change in perspective."

  "It's obvious, isn't it? Faith doesn't want to." Amy crosses her arms. "Even if she did, it'd be impossible, with locks on every door, sponsors watching us all the time, constant surveilnce. And even if we did get out, it'd be suicide. We'd just get hunted down and killed. So I’d rather stay and spare her the grief. If that means suffering through this programme, so be it.”

  Eira nods, not saying anything in response to that. She's probably holding her cards close to her chest; there's no particur reason for her to reveal anything about their security system. "So escape is not an option for you if you want a new goal in life, nor are you ready to start striving to transition as completely as possible. But nothing isn't working either. I think I might have a suggestion that you might be open to considering: you do your best to support and protect your friends during their time in the programme."

  It's an odd suggestion. Amy really isn't sure where Eira is trying to take this. The one she'd be protecting her friends from is... Eira herself. And Rose, and Viv, though Rose seems like more of a tease than she is an actual threat, whilst Vivienne is actually quite nice to Faith. Surely there is some kind of ulterior motive to this? There always is with Eira.

  "You want me to protect my friends from you.”

  "Yes. Faith much appreciates your support and always talks quite highly of you when the topic comes up. She feels safe around you, like you don’t judge her for what she insists is her many faults. That’s something you could continue to offer her, as well as help with things she’s been struggling with. I know she’s been terribly insecure about her voice — she’s been struggling to make much progress in voice training. You could help her with that and alleviate her dysphoria some. And yes, you need to protect your friend too, more accurately, you need to protect Jenny from herself. You know your friend is very impulsive— she needs someone to look after her in case she tries to do something foolish, like try to escape."

  Ah, there's the ulterior motive. "So you want me to convince Jenny to stop trying to escape.”

  "You must understand. The things I've heard her talk about are quite extreme. She's talking about going to any extent she has to in her escape. She's thinking about violence, about using weapons, about not holding back in their use. She's said all these things in your presence. If anyone would know that she will actually try to do these things, it’s you, Amy. And all that for a cause you consider no better than suicide? Surely you have things to say about that?”

  Amy shrugs. “Am I allowed to say I don’t care? Or, well— I do care if she hurts Loonie, though I doubt she will. But you’ve kidnapped me and filled my body with chemicals against my consent, so I don’t owe you any protection, especially not when it’s you versus my best friend. I hope she’s successful, for her own sake. She doesn’t deserve any of this.”

  “Well, I didn’t ask you to care about Rose, Viv or me, I asked you to care about Jenny. It’s my job to care for my sponsors. It’s my job to make sure they can work as safely as possible, to set rules and expectations that foster an environment that enables them to. Part of that includes punishment, and let me be very clear, if Jenny as much as touches any of my sponsors in an escape attempt, I will give her a punishment orders of magnitude worse than being sent to the cells— one that ensures you will not see her again for potentially years. You're aware how tough even just three weeks of isotion can be, so imagine how much Jenny would suffer under a punishment like that.”

  "This is quite counterproductive if you’re trying to convince me to help you out with this.”

  "You're not helping me though, are you?" Eira smiles devilishly. "You're helping Jenny avoid making a disastrous choice that you believe could lead to her death— that I say would merely lead to necessary decisions to ensure the safety of my staff. She is no threat to me, she is no threat to this programme. I do not think for a second that she could actually escape. I do think she could make some very unwise decisions that force my hand. She is foolish and overconfident enough to try such a thing.

  “But you know just how unwise a decision it is. Don't friends have a responsibility to warn each other of incoming danger? Aren't they supposed to stand up to each other when they are trying to do something so likely to cause irreparable harm? Especially when they know their friends have a tendency to do things without properly thinking them through? Your Jenny is a very much stoppable force preparing to run straight into an immovable object right now. She should know it's an immovable force. We've put up warning signs and given her lectures and done everything we can do to stop her; yet she insists on trying anyway, unwilling to believe the truth that we will come down upon her with a force she will likely never forget. Surely you have a duty to intervene? You don't have to stop her, physically, but you can talk to her, right? Do you want to watch her attempt something, fail, and get punished to such an extent that you won’t see her again for years? Do you want to spend those years regretting your decision to not even try to avoid this worst-case scenario?"

  "I—" Amy looks up at Eira, unsure what to say to that. She doesn't particurly want to be using Jenny's trust to be acting on the head sponsor's behalf. But she can't really argue against the logic, as that would require her to disbelieve Eira's threats. But Eira isn't bluffing— the idea she might be blew up in her face the st time Amy thought that she might be, that being with the injection. If Jenny does try to escape again, and if she tries using a weapon in the process, the punishment will be brutal. Amy would have to watch it happen, fully aware that she had the knowledge to stop it, or at least give Jenny as many warnings as possible, but hadn't. And she wouldn't be able to forgive herself if that happened.

  She hates it, she hates it so bloody much, more than she hated having to watching Cecil touch that poor girl, more than injecting herself and more than she hated waking up in that stupid cell under this fucking building, but she's going to have to do it, if only because Eira would find a way to make her do it regardless.

  "Fine. I'll see what I can do."

  24th of February, 2019"Bloody hell, RM, stop thinking with your tiny dysfunctional estrogen-raddled cock and start using your fucking brain for once." Jenny shouts at her, luckily from a rather safe, looking more pissed off than she's ever looked. "Yes, I know she's a psychopath, yes, I know she's been fucking with your brain, but you're not even going to try to work with me on this anymore? Even if you want to stay, even if Dar wants to stay, you don't have to force me to stay as well. Because. I. Don't. Want. To. Understood?"

  "Ray—"

  "Shut up! I don't want to hear from you!" She shouts. "My mum always told me that I shouldn't say anything if I don't have anything useful to say, and whilst I had never heeded that lesson before, I'm starting to bloody understand it now. Like, you might want to be forcibly feminised and all, but that doesn't mean we all want to. I don’t need to be evangelised into the church of just sitting back and letting it happen to me. I don’t want my life destroyed just so some aristocratic freak can get off to my shame about being forced to live my fetish. Or do you not care about my happiness? Do you just want to sit there and get another fucking boner like you did when I got injected that first time? Is that what you want?"

  It took a few days for Ray to finally breach the topic again, asking Amy for help getting a knife to do her escape attempt with — Amy and Faith had knife privileges, after all, where Jenny definitely didn't have those — and the refusal, along with the expnation given, had led her friend to this point.

  Okay, not just the expnation. Amy might have told her to be less impulsive and to think of how hurt Faith and her would be if something did happen to Jenny. She philosophised about some terrible punishment, one she cimed Eira threatened her with. Perhaps she implied that it really isn't so bad here, that being with her friends isn’t the worst thing in the world, and dropped a hint that there's no reason to be worried about not passing, because Jenny is already coming along quite well.

  Fuck, her friend is starting to become rather pretty already, even if her hair is still too short for Amy's liking. Watching her develop would be amazing. Faith is properly cute already. Amy might be gging behind, yes—

  But that's not the point, is it?

  Jenny doesn't want this. She has very good reasons not to want it. Faith might be content letting it happen and Amy may be too weak to resist, but they shouldn't be dragging Jenny down with them, should they?

  That assumes they have any influence on the events here other than making Jenny choose to suffer more or less whilst she goes through the programme. Their fates have already been decided for them. They're having a fight about whether they're willing to accept it or not— and Jenny continues to irrationally fight the inevitable, which is just so typical of her, and maybe Amy should just match her furore and tell her that.

  Except she doesn’t want to fight Jenny, as much as her friend is up for it right now.

  "Cat's got your tongue? Fucking answer my question, RM." Jenny sneers.

  "I thought you told me to shut up." Amy answers meekly. She can see the anger in her friend’s eyes, and really wishes it hadn't exploded like this.

  Jenny stares at her, arms crossed, tapping her foot on the floor the way Amy’s only seen her do before when she was really trying to hold back her anger. She did it a lot the day of her first injection, she did it when lecturing her on pretending to be girls with Faith, and now she’s doing it again.

  "You know what? Never fucking mind. It’s not worth my energy to put up with you. All this is just one big fantasy to you." Jenny says, walking to the door and angrily holding her finger to the biometric reader. “Dar, I’ll be back in like, two hours. I need a fucking bath. Only way I can rex after putting up with him.”

  Faith quickly gets up from her chair in the kitchen, having stayed out of this conflict for now, and follows Jenny out into the hallway. They talked. Amy couldn't hear anything from the conversation despite the door having been left open, so it must have been in such a low whisper that the microphones wouldn’t have picked it up.

  Faith returns a few minutes ter, looking anxious and uncertain, sitting down on the side of Amy's bed with a simple message. "That should calm her down for a bit."

  "What did you tell her?" Amy asks.

  "Nothing important." The girl sighs, taking Amy’s hand and squeezing it in some kind of ritual she doesn’t get. "Hopefully."