28th of September, 2017disciple-of-bnchard: anyone still updarjeeling: getting ready for bed...rees-mogged: Drunk but alivedarjeeling: you're drunk again?rees-mogged: It’s freshers’ weekrees-mogged: They have unlimited pints for three quidrees-mogged: Of course I'm drunkdarjeeling: you're in your second year thoughdisciple-of-bnchard: hes lyingdisciple-of-bnchard: no one would be as drunk as he cims he is without typosrees-mogged: It's called the backspace key Rayrees-mogged: Thus is ne tryong wihout thw bsckdpace key darjeeling: he is taking suspiciously long to respondrees-mogged: And I’m helping organise things to get new students into the Tory club so I get to join in on the frats’ special dealsdarjeeling: that makes a lot of sense i would get drunk toorees-mogged: Thank god at least one person has faith in my ability to get hammereddisciple-of-bnchard: dar always believes youdisciple-of-bnchard: its not fairrees-mogged: Maybe he'd believe you if you were trustworthydarjeeling: don't be meandarjeeling: Ray is perfectly trustworthydarjeeling: at leastdarjeeling: sometimesdisciple-of-bnchard: thank you dardisciple-of-bnchard: RM gets real mean when hes drunkdarjeeling: no he doesn'tdarjeeling: he sends me really cute dmsdarjeeling: like about how much he appreciates my friendshiprees-mogged: Don't tell him Dar he'llrees-mogged: Fickdisciple-of-bnchard: fickdarjeeling: fickrees-mogged: I swear to godrees-mogged: Take too long to type and they punish merees-mogged: Make typos and they punish merees-mogged: Why are we alive? rees-mogged: just to suffer?disciple-of-bnchard: yesdarjeeling: yesdisciple-of-bnchard: im not suffering today thoughdisciple-of-bnchard: i came across a real life cute boydisciple-of-bnchard: the pn is that im gonna hit on him todaydarjeeling: do tellrees-mogged: Wait a fucking seconddisciple-of-bnchard: ficking secondrees-mogged: Since when are you gay???disciple-of-bnchard: three days agodisciple-of-bnchard: get with the times old manrees-mogged: Darrees-mogged: Is he gaslighting medarjeeling: nodarjeeling: you were very drunk that nightdarjeeling: ray decided he's gay nowrees-mogged: I require an expnationdisciple-of-bnchard: lookdisciple-of-bnchard: okaydisciple-of-bnchard: i did what you never coulddisciple-of-bnchard: i pulleddisciple-of-bnchard: yes, i pulleddisciple-of-bnchard: a real life girldisciple-of-bnchard: with real tits and hips and a cute little nosedisciple-of-bnchard: and i took her to my dormdisciple-of-bnchard: it was greatdisciple-of-bnchard: we were very drunkdisciple-of-bnchard: and like she kissed merees-mogged: Liardisciple-of-bnchard: i was kissed by a girldisciple-of-bnchard: deal with it RMdisciple-of-bnchard: and like that was fun stilldisciple-of-bnchard: but then we got to the undressy partrees-mogged: Calling bulkshit rndisciple-of-bnchard: bulkshitdisciple-of-bnchard: stop interrupting me RMdisciple-of-bnchard: im telling a story for your benefitdisciple-of-bnchard: so we undresseddisciple-of-bnchard: and oh my god she was so prettydisciple-of-bnchard: she had nice titsdisciple-of-bnchard: very softdisciple-of-bnchard: not big but real nice nonethelessdisciple-of-bnchard: are you jealous yet RMrees-mogged: Envious*disciple-of-bnchard: absolutely seething i seedisciple-of-bnchard: but heres the issuedisciple-of-bnchard: i just couldnt enjoy itdisciple-of-bnchard: something was very wrongdisciple-of-bnchard: like i wanted to run away level wrongdisciple-of-bnchard: sort of diddisciple-of-bnchard: cried in the bathroom after shed left level wrongdisciple-of-bnchard: dont judge boys cry toodisciple-of-bnchard: i bet you cry tons RMdisciple-of-bnchard: but like that fucking sucked rightdisciple-of-bnchard: thats not what sex is supposed to be likedisciple-of-bnchard: so i came to the conclusion that huhdisciple-of-bnchard: maybe im not into girlsdisciple-of-bnchard: maybe im just fucking jealous of themdisciple-of-bnchard: so im trying to find a boy desperate enough to date medarjeeling: you're not that baddarjeeling: don't be so harsh on yourselfdisciple-of-bnchard: thanks dardisciple-of-bnchard: at least i can found one boy who likes medisciple-of-bnchard: shame hes in durhamrees-mogged: He said 'not that bad'rees-mogged: Don't get too ahead of yourselfdisciple-of-bnchard: aww someones jealousdisciple-of-bnchard: and yes that is the correct usage this timedisciple-of-bnchard: smartassdisciple-of-bnchard: anywaydisciple-of-bnchard: i found a candidatedisciple-of-bnchard: like actual real life boydisciple-of-bnchard: gonna pull twice in a weekdisciple-of-bnchard: and gonna live the hsts dreamdisciple-of-bnchard: just to flex on you RMdisciple-of-bnchard: proving that some of us arent agprees-mogged: You have the most AGP fantasies out of all of us Raydarjeeling: be nice RMdarjeeling: what was the boy likedisciple-of-bnchard: his name is stefan rileydisciple-of-bnchard: or well idk if its stefanrees-mogged: You're gonna pull but you don't know his namedisciple-of-bnchard: he put stef on his silly little freshers name carddisciple-of-bnchard: i assume its stefandisciple-of-bnchard: anywaydisciple-of-bnchard: hes kinda cutedisciple-of-bnchard: vibes wisedisciple-of-bnchard: total repperdarjeeling: how baddisciple-of-bnchard: disasterdisciple-of-bnchard: baggy hoodiedisciple-of-bnchard: thousand yard staredisciple-of-bnchard: uncomfortable when spoken todisciple-of-bnchard: cant even write his full name!!!disciple-of-bnchard: bros suffering out heredisciple-of-bnchard: and like thats kinda cuterees-mogged: So you found a boy to hit onrees-mogged: And what draws you to him is that he's not a boydisciple-of-bnchard: its just an observation RMrees-mogged: Suredisciple-of-bnchard: anyway im gonna ask him out tomorrowdisciple-of-bnchard: i think it could work outdisciple-of-bnchard: two degens with a secretdisciple-of-bnchard: its like us three but with a ginger insteadrees-mogged: Nah he gotta transitionrees-mogged: If he's ginger he's better off femrees-mogged: Sorry to say itrees-mogged: Ginger men? ewrees-mogged: Ginger girls? wowdisciple-of-bnchard: someone has a typedisciple-of-bnchard: but people shouldnt transition just because theyd be hotrees-mogged: Yes they shouldrees-mogged: Being hot takes away 90 percent of the drawbacks of trooning outrees-mogged: It's totally different from being a honbeast and you know itrees-mogged: Society loves hot womenrees-mogged: Meanwhile every man looks the samerees-mogged: Name one hot man I'll waitdisciple-of-bnchard: being hot doesnt make it any less degenerate RMdisciple-of-bnchard: just makes wanking in the mirror easierdisciple-of-bnchard: you wouldnt transition even if youd be hotrees-mogged: If I could guarantee big tits and successful FFS I fucking woulddisciple-of-bnchard: i thought you didnt want to lose out on a cool big boy jobrees-mogged: Do you know the cool big girl jobs I could get with c cupsrees-mogged: I'd be going to Hollywoodrees-mogged: And I’d make you pay for your own fucking ticket to see me in the filmsdisciple-of-bnchard: hollywood will never accept a british tranny no matter how posh you idiotrees-mogged: betdisciple-of-bnchard: what do you mean betdisciple-of-bnchard: are you actually gonna tryrees-mogged: No you idiotrees-mogged: I'd be a honbeastrees-mogged: But they do love the Britishrees-mogged: And they do love forced diversityrees-mogged: They’d 100% accept a British trannyrees-mogged: I give it 10 years maxrees-mogged: Also I'm noticingrees-mogged: You didn't mention a single man you think is hotrees-mogged: Not even Stefan Rileydisciple-of-bnchard: well he isntdisciple-of-bnchard: hes like handsomedisciple-of-bnchard: or what people would call handsomerees-mogged: You're not sounding very gay rn Raydarjeeling: you don't know that RMdarjeeling: maybe he could be hot to Ray with a few changesdisciple-of-bnchard: he could bedisciple-of-bnchard: but hed need to have somewhat longer hairdisciple-of-bnchard: and fuller, softer skindisciple-of-bnchard: and like a bit of brow work donedisciple-of-bnchard: i think he’d look a lot happier like that toodisciple-of-bnchard: like rn he looks like he would rather be deadrees-mogged: He could be hot if he was a woman isn't something a gay man would saydisciple-of-bnchard: not a womandisciple-of-bnchard: femboydisciple-of-bnchard: know the difference faggotrees-mogged: You're going to prove you're HSTS by dating a femboyrees-mogged: That's fucking gibberish Raydisciple-of-bnchard: no you dont get itdisciple-of-bnchard: because youre drunk and not using your brain rndisciple-of-bnchard: not that you ever use itdisciple-of-bnchard: think about it this waydisciple-of-bnchard: traps are gay rightdisciple-of-bnchard: because they have penisdisciple-of-bnchard: if theres cock involved its gaydisciple-of-bnchard: thats just how it worksdisciple-of-bnchard: so if traps are gay then fucking a trap is hstsrees-mogged: Femboys arent trapsdisciple-of-bnchard: no but its the same principlerees-mogged: insane agp copedisciple-of-bnchard: you dont know shit about agp RMdisciple-of-bnchard: i actually read the papersdisciple-of-bnchard: what did you readdisciple-of-bnchard: fucking 4chandisciple-of-bnchard: the troons on lgbt are fucking uselessdisciple-of-bnchard: its not agp if he got a dickdisciple-of-bnchard: this is just how it worksrees-mogged: Wouldn't that make two pre-op trannies fucking hstsdisciple-of-bnchard: you wish that were the casedisciple-of-bnchard: but youre not gonna find a hot tranny to fuckdisciple-of-bnchard: because im takendisciple-of-bnchard: or will be tomorrow at leastdisciple-of-bnchard: so take that faggotrees-mogged: Okay you're trollingdarjeeling: I don't want to imagine you two having sexdarjeeling: feels ontologically wrong somehowrees-mogged: You're in luck Darrees-mogged: Because there's no fucking way I woulddisciple-of-bnchard: betrees-mogged: What do you mean 'bet'disciple-of-bnchard: its about as likely as you getting big titsdisciple-of-bnchard: which youre utterly convinced you willdisciple-of-bnchard: so yeah im betting you would get a crush on merees-mogged: Godrees-mogged: I hate you so muchdarjeeling: no you don’tdisciple-of-bnchard: love you too baberees-mogged: Fuck he really is a fag isn’t he

  31st of January, 2019She's so bloody exhausted. Three weeks of bad sleep have started to catch up to her, the sponsors were probably feeding her less than someone going through a second puberty needed, and the adrenaline from administering her own injection was starting to rapidly subside.

  Climbing some eighty feet from the basement to the manor's top floor on an empty stomach likely didn't help either.

  Whichever idiot decided to put the wine celr fifty feet underground needed firing, or at least to have his grave dug up. It really didn't have to be that deep into the mountain. Or maybe that was on purpose: the cells do look like they've been there forever. And the manor has to be in the absolute middle of nowhere for a reason. Maybe the old owner just wanted a pce where they could make absolutely sure no one could hear their victims scream.

  It's a stupidly exciting thought.

  Eira notices that Amy has been falling behind, looks at her for a moment whilst she catches up, then puts an arm in the small of Amy's back and whispers a question to her. "You really can't work like this, can you?"

  "I'll be fine." Amy insists. "Just need a little something to eat, is all."

  The head sponsor cocks her head and stares at her for a moment, taking in all of Amy’s body nguage before continuing her interrogation. "On a scale from one to ten, how tired are you?"

  "Like a four or a five," She shrugs. A yawn escapes her despite her best efforts. "Okay, maybe a six. It's really not that bad—"

  "I've heard enough. You're getting the day off." Eira says.

  "I didn't even say I was all that tired. Four through six is average." Amy protests. She really doesn't want to get special treatment, especially not on the first day that she could see her friends again.

  "You said a six." The head sponsor stops in front of the door to the main bedroom. "I knew someone who described a rubber bullet to the balls as a six out of ten on the pain scale, Amy. You may not be pretending to be as tough as whatever he thought an army officer should be — he ended up infertile after that event — but you're definitely willing to say a seven or an eight is a six in reality."

  "I'll manage, okay? I just don't want to sck off whilst Jenny and Faith need to work all day."

  "You'll manage? Tell me, how many hours of sleep did you have st night?" Eira asks.

  "Nine." Amy lies.

  "And I will see you sleeping safely and soundly for nine hours if I go to the security footage?"

  "N-no." She admits.

  "So how many hours did you really sleep?"

  "Zero." Amy looks down at the floor, ashamed. She's been up for over twenty-four hours now.

  Eira opens the door for Amy, then points inside. "Bed. Now. I don't want to see you getting out of it before two p.m. today."

  "Y-Yes ma'am." She scurries past the head sponsor into the bedroom, cheeks very red. Had she really just tried to lie to Eira over something so trivial? Is this the punishment that results from her deception?

  "RM!" Jenny calls out from one of the seats at the breakfast table, intercepting her before she can get to her own bed. "I was wondering whether you'd ever be let out of bad boy jail. I mean, it's been bloody ages. How long have you been gone? Three weeks? Fuking hell.”

  “Bad girl jail, Ms. Singer.” Eira corrects her. “Do I need to remind you what we said about misgendering in the presence of a sponsor?”

  Amy looks Jenny in the eyes for a moment, then pushes past her to sit down on the bed as Eira had ordered her. She couldn't be risking refusing orders at this moment, especially after her proving herself so untrustworthy in the first pce.

  Jenny stares at her, fbbergasted, eyes flooded with concern. She seems frozen under Eira's gaze from the corner of the room, waiting for more to be said or done before she can act on the many things she would want to do in the moment.

  Her friend being worried about her wouldn't be so bad if her other friend had actually been present in the room. But Faith wasn't. She's gone. Without a trace. Her bed is perfectly made up in the same manner as Amy's — whereas Jenny's is a total mess — and there isn't as much as a second dirty pte or mug to be detected.

  Is she okay? Did the sponsors do something to her?

  It's not like she has much time to fret about her friend, as Eira cps her hands and calls for their attention. "To state the obvious: Yes, Amy has been released from her preventative isotion. She is free to live in this room again in much the same manner as she previously had. The same rules regarding cleanliness will apply to her as apply to Faith and you— I'm sure you can inform her of the changes to those in due time. After you tend to your own immediate duties, of course."

  "Yes, ma'am." Jenny grumbles, voice as masculine as she thinks she can get away with. "I will get to it before the deadline, as I always do."

  "I'm just making sure, darling." Eira grins cruelly. "That is not the most important news of today, though. I need to inform you that Amy has been given an involuntary sick day off."

  "Lucky bastard." Jenny whispers just loud enough for Amy to hear.

  "You wouldn't say you were lucky if you were feeling the way she is, Ms. Singer. In fact, I would posit she has the worst luck of all three of you today, as this sick day will extend to the entire intake despite her being the only one to be actually ill. The two of you get free time without feeling as miserable as she is right now.Of course, this extension is conditional. I expect you to take care of her to the best of your ability. She's not in any position to safely provide for herself today. The reason is simple: she's not had a proper night of sleep for the past week or so and is at risk of randomly falling asleep at any moment. She needs to be cared for today.”

  "Understood, ma'am." Jenny responds. Amy isn't sure who's more uncomfortable in the situation: Jenny, because she’s actually forced to submit to someone for once in her life, or Amy, who has to see her friend reduced to that state by a woman who can terrify her in just the right ways to make her feel more and more complicated emotions about her.

  "Good. I assume you will pass this information on to Faith when she returns." Eira looks at Jenny, who nods. "I hope you'll be as kind to Amy as you'd want her to be to you if you were in the same situation. And, yes, I'll be judging your performance on that basis. Now then, I'll be off for today."

  Jenny erupts into activity the very second the door shuts behind Eira, almost jumping forwards towards Amy, nearly hugging her before taking a step back and inspecting her. "God. Not to be rude, but, you look an absolute mess. And I really need an expnation for all of this. Like, the baggy eyes? The super pale skin? The 'I wish I were asleep right now but I'm standing on an overcrowded bus and need to keep my eyes open so I don't get thrown into a pile of schoolgirls like I'm a bowling pin' stare? What happened to you?"

  "Not to be rude?" Amy asks, just to be annoying. "Have you grown soft, Ray?"

  "Yes, actually. It's a side-effect of the estrogen." She runs her hands over Amy's arm. "You've got it worse than me, it seems. But that's not the point. Did they torture you or something?"

  "They put me in the cell." Amy shrugs. "That's kind of it, really."

  "No way that's all they did." Jenny crosses her arms. "I'm sorry, but they don't deliver you here and immediately announce you're too ill to make yourself a sandwich without having done some really fucked up shit to you."

  "I'm being honest." She bites her lip, not exactly happy to be fighting Jenny on any kind of topic right now. They can keep it up for hours if they need to, after all. And with Faith probably being hurt, she wants to end this conversation as quickly as possible. "I was thrown in a cell and slept badly as a result."

  "No, no. I get it." Jenny whispers very softly. "You can't say what they did to you unless you want to be put back into the boy-torturing machine. Is that why you also, you know…"

  "I know?" Amy isn't entirely happy that Jenny immediately concluded the existence of a boy-torturing machine, but she doesn't entirely doubt that such a thing could exist and that her friend could have been exposed to it where she hadn't been.

  "Voice." Jenny continues. "You sound like a girl."

  "My voice is terribly masculine." She blushes and looks away. Yes, her voice is probably much more feminine than Jenny and Faith are capable of doing as of right now, with what would have been rather limited voice training a few days per week, but it's not like people wouldn't be able to clock it. There are so many mistakes she's making all the time.

  "No, it's not." Jenny is giving her the same confused look again. "You don't have to keep it up here, you know? You can just... lower your pitch. Talk with your normal voice. None of that head voice nonsense needed, not here, at least."

  "I'll try not to." Amy lowers her voice as much as she can whilst still maintaining head voice. She's pretty sure she can't return to her old voice without causing a significant spike in dysphoria she really doesn't need right now. The mistakes she’s making are bad enough as is. "It'll be a challenge after three weeks of speaking like that though."

  "Understood. So the boy-torturing machine does voice training. It’s so terrible it makes you scream but the pain is worse when you scream at a lower pitch, so you’re incentivised to be like, all girly.”

  Amy blinks at her a few times, lost for words. Is that another of Jenny’s fetishes? Is that another of Amy’s fetishes? It does sound hot, like, really hot, but—

  It takes her a second to realise she still had an important question she needed to ask. "Where's Fai— Dar? Is he okay?"

  "Shower." Jenny shrugs. "He's okay. Just felt like he got a bit stinky, I suppose. Boys do that. Get all smelly. Even when they’re estrogenised."

  "J-Just the bathroom?" Fuck. She's really bloody stupid, isn't she? Of cours Faith would just be going through her daily routine. They’re meant to shower three times a week. Amy should shower too, really.

  "He should be back in fifteen, maybe twenty minutes." Jenny says, definitely noticing how manic Amy is at the moment. "Maybe y down for a bit until then. It'd do you a lot of good."

  "I 'spose." Amy mumbles as she gets herself into bed properly. Faith won't be long, she can afford to y down a little. As long as she's still awake when her friend returns.

  The bed is really comfy, after all, and being covered by a thick and warm duvet is just heavenly after three weeks of a thin sheet…

  Amy is fast asleep within three minutes.

  ***

  "You're just going to sit there and watch that mind-numbing ‘dorley_channel’ slop? Cooking shows, house renovations, nature documentaries— is this really how you're going to be spending your one day off, Dar?"

  "Yeah. I'm tired."

  "We're all bloody tired. RM's been sleeping for, like, six hours already. But we need to do something today, you don't know how long it might take for another opportunity like this to just roam around and see what we can find. You can't just throw it away watching Michael Portillo talk about steam trains all day. Trains are for autists, anyway. Though, you’re one of those, so I guess it fits. But find yourself some energy and we can go find a way out of this stupid pce."

  "Some of us try to actually do our chores, Ray." Faith says, sounding quite annoyed. "It's my first day off in a month. Just let me be for once, okay?"

  Amy is ying as still as she can in her bed, listening. She just happened to wake up with her back turned to her friends, the two of them too distracted to notice her stirring and coming to full consciousness again.

  It's not entirely proper for her to be listening in on her friends like this, but it's interesting. She wants to know how they've been getting along over the past few weeks. Or really, how they have been interacting with each other in DMs, when they didn't think Amy needed to be involved in whatever they were discussing, or when they felt like it'd be best if she weren't.

  It's the first glimpse of something that she hasn't seen in the ten years they have known each other, and her curiosity is really getting the better of her right now. So she listens.

  "I've let you be for weeks now, Dar." Jenny grumbles. "Waiting until RM's back is good and all but we really need to be making moves now. Didn't you see the way he looked when Eira brought him in this morning? Those baggy eyes, the fear, the shame, the fact he basically accepted his fate of being turned into a perfect little maid? We're slowly losing him and you'd rather sit around and watch TV."

  "I'm not going to help you out with that, Ray." Faith says, firmly. "Because I've also seen what he looks like. He looks like a mess. Like he's been broken. Despite the fact he was perfectly well-behaved, at least when I got a glimpse of him—"

  She'd seen Amy be very compliant during her little dinner with the sponsors st week, when Loonie had convinced Amy that just putting on some make-up and sitting prettily and politely would convince Eira to let her go. Faith had served the table that night, despite the fact that this hadn't happened any night before then, and presumably afterwards. Eira wanted to show off her victory, and clearly it made some kind of impression.

  Mostly that Amy had been broken, she assumes.

  "—and I really don't want to see what happens to you if you try something again. Especially over something that isn’t going to work in the first pce. We’re stuck.”

  "What's going to happen is that I will be a free man." Jenny says rather smugly. "And I'll drag you two along with that whether you want to or not, and honestly, it doesn't seem like that's the case."

  "I'm not particurly convinced."

  "You'd want to stay here and become a girl? Has that Vivienne bitch been so nice to you that you've been rapidly converted to the church of forced feminisation?"

  "No." Faith says, a hint of doubt in her voice. "But I don't particurly want to be out there either.”

  "Surely you'd want to be free again?" Jenny sounds rather unsettled by the answer.

  "It's not about freedom."

  "Then what is it about?"

  "Nothing."

  "Nothing?"

  "I don't want to talk about it."

  "Eira told you that you can't?"

  "I'm not talking about it because I don't want her to listen in and confront me with it ter this week, Ray. So don't try to make me talk about it. If you want to talk about escape pns and get all that pushed in your face next time she makes you justify your actions, be my guest, but I don't want to be part of it."

  "Dar—"

  "Please?" She raises her voice a little, sounding much more innocent again, like she did before. “You know I don’t like arguing with you.”

  Amy isn't sure how much Jenny has been leaning on the girl recently, but clearly she's felt the need to learn how to push back against those requests.

  She never liked the idea of those two being alone together: Jenny always had a tendency to be much too demanding of her friends, especially when it came to their gender identity. Part of it is because of her devotion to the cause: if Faith was an ordinary yperson and Amy was a true believer, Jenny was, like, the pope or something. More importantly, she just doesn’t know when she should shut up.

  Or not do something. Like announcing the fact that you’re going to try to escape in a room where you know the sponsors will be listening and then actually trying to do it: that’s a recipe for getting caught, or more likely, just having all the doors locked.

  "Fine. I'll go do it myself. " Jenny says. "Just so you know, I'm not suicidal. Or into like, cages and shit. If I disappear, foul py will be involved. I’ll be held against my will. And I’ll need you to help me, Dar. If you can be bothered! RM told me about this horrible boy torturing device and I don’t want to be stuck in that.”

  With that, Amy can hear the door sm shut behind Jenny.

  All she can do is hope her friend doesn’t get disappeared.

  ***

  Faith is making her something to eat.

  Faith is making her something to eat, entirely voluntarily, without being asked to do so, seemingly just out of concern for her well-being? She's in the kitchen making Amy something nice and filling because she actually cares about her?

  Amy really can't quite wrap her head around it.

  So she sits up in her bed, still rather dazed about what happened that morning — what happened the past three weeks, really — and very much unable to come up with anything to say to Faith other than various single-sylble question words starting with the letter 'w'.

  At least she knows how to talk.

  "Um, you should probably eat this at the table. It might get a bit messy." Faith suggests, turning the stove off and dumping the ham and cheese omelette onto a pte. She takes a small step back when her chosen method of transferring the meal — just sort of wiggling it out of the pan and hoping for the best — leads to her inevitably spshing hot, liquid fat across the kitchenette. At least she didn’t hit herself with any of it, the pan usefully angled away from her body.

  "Too te, I suppose." Amy says. She hopes Faith isn't too offended by that. She's probably offended. She's so timid and trying her best and Amy is being so—

  Faith ughs at the comment. "Yeah. It's a lot harder to move onto a pte than just eating microwave curry out of the pstic container."

  "Hopefully it's a lot better too. It should be, you made it and all..." She struggles to hide her blush. Faith cooked for her!

  "I think that's more of a sign the microwave curry is going to be better."

  "Don't talk yourself down like that." Amy rolls out of her bed and finds her way onto a chair at the table.

  "No, I'm just a fan of Icend's curries. They’re cheap and… edible. Spicy enough to have actual fvour, as opposed to a lot of their catalogue." Faith says. "Though I doubt you've ever tried them."

  "No. I've barely had curry as is." She admits, a little embarrassed. "My mum couldn't handle spicy food very well."

  "And I doubt you shopped at Icend." Faith adds. "I wonder what the M&S equivalent would be like. Nicer vegetables, probably.”

  "We never shopped at M&S." Amy crifies. She grew up very posh, just not that particur subtype of posh. "Or, well, my mum usually didn't. The nearest M&S would be in Bath, and she never left Keynsham. She couldn't drive, remember? She shopped at Waitrose, mostly, as that was near our house. Though that's a distinction without a difference, isn't it?"

  "You're so self-aware." Faith teases.

  "Am I?"

  "And you look like you feel so guilty about it.”

  Amy frowns. "No I don't."

  "What makes you feel all sorry all of a sudden?" Faith asks. “I mean, you’ve never hidden the fact that you grew up… very wealthy.”

  Amy blushes, unwilling to answer that question. She’s always felt a little guilty that someone like Faith had to live in poverty. She deserved a much nicer life than she got. But she has to change the topic before she gets too weird about it. "What makes you all confident all of a sudden?"

  She blushes too, biting her lip and looking away. "Do you know what kind of confidence boost it is when someone you've... um... looked up to for years says he's in love with you?"

  "I..." She stares at Faith, dumb-founded. "Uh. No?"

  "It was." She whispers. "I liked hearing it. It makes me feel... worthy. Or like I can be— No. That's not quite it either."

  Amy really doesn't understand what she's trying to say. Worthy of what? And why wouldn't Faith be worthy? Is there anyone who genuinely believes she wouldn't be?

  "It makes me want to try to be deserving of your love. To do whatever I can to be... a good boyfriend. And to... try again? At life, I mean. I was so close to giving up, especially when I heard you were dead, and then I ended up here, they said all these terrible things about me..." She has tears in her eyes, her voice wavering more and more. "And they were right. I was... horrible to people. It's not something I want to do ever again. But I also don't want to give up on... us. Us three, that is. Even if it's hard.

  “Even if it's really, really hard and I need to force myself to be more confident than ever because, I... I'm... You're... You're the only reason I'm holding on at all. Because you're fighting so hard and keep standing up for me and making things easier and all Ray does is compin that I'm not manly enough whilst you would love me even if I... even if I gave in to the temptations. But I shouldn't. Because... you wouldn't want me to. You would understand if I did, but you would want me to be... a man. Just like Ray wants me to be one. And you’re my two best friends. So I'm going to try. I don't think we can ever get out of here, but... but..."

  "You don't have to put yourself through so much pain for my sake." Amy can't help but pull Faith onto her p, holding her as close as she can. "I... I just want you to be happy. If you have to be a woman for that to be true, I'll support you all the way."

  "Ray won't."

  "Ray isn't here." Amy says, then feels guilty she said it. Should she really be giving Faith permission to be like this? To troon out? Just because she thinks Faith would be happier, because she would be cuter, because Amy likes the idea of having a girlfriend? Is she really going to be that degenerate?

  "He could find out, and…”

  "He won't.” She’s tempting the girl into something so wrong, but… she’d like it. She’d need it. Both of them would. “So would you want to be a girl? Just for now?"

  "I shouldn't."

  "Not even for me?" Amy tries her luck.

  "I—"

  "So I can have a girlfriend once before... before..." She doesn't exactly want to say before what it would be. Faith really shouldn't know about the sex svery thing. But Amy doesn't want to lose her one st chance at genuine love before it all comes crashing down.

  Faith bites her lip and nods. "I guess that… makes sense. Kind of.”

  "What if..." Amy blushes, taking Faith's hand and guiding her to her bed. "What if we both gave in. Just for today— just for each other. So we get to have the girlfriends we always wanted."

  "RM..."

  "Call me Amy, please?" She pulls Faith to her chest. She’s so soft now. So cute. She’s almost— almost like the real thing. And so pretty already! Just a little FFS and she would be so beautiful. Not that they’d be getting that, though— they probably want to keep them very clocky as humiliation.

  "Do you really think we should..."

  Amy kisses her. Touches Faith. Feels her. Feels the parts of her that are growing, developing against her will, feels her squirm under her touch and hold back a moan.

  "We should. Just us. Just today. Just once. Two autogynephiles enjoying themselves whilst they still can. Giving in to their degeneracy—"

  "Amy..." Her saying her name in that tone, like it’s taboo yet with such a strong hint of excitement feels almost addicting.

  "Yes?”

  "Just say nice things instead, please? I know it’s AGP and all but… you don’t have to say it.”

  She pauses for a moment, suddenly unsure what to do next. "Like what?"

  "I love you?" Faith suggests.

  Oh. Of course. She really is an idiot, isn't she? Faith probably likes it gentle, not degenerate. She’s cute like that, after all.

  "I love you... Faith." Amy whispers into her ear.

  "I love you too, Amy."

  It's such a shame they only get to be with each other like this for such a fleeting moment, but Amy is going to make the best of it.

  Twenty-one years and she finally has a girlfriend.

  Kind of.

  For a few minutes.

  But a few minutes nonetheless.