Day 31?If her body is telling her something, it’s that getting out of bed might have been too tall of a task. Amy strained her still recovering legs too much and left herself bed-ridden yet again. It was not just too fast, more importantly, it was too much.
Her pain could have been much worse too. Whilst Amy might have demanded a shower, and the maid agreed that she required one, the woman also decided to exercise some judgement and put Amy into a bath instead. It was meant to make her rex. She even went out of her way to make sure that Amy’s hair was washed properly with some expensive-looking shampoo and conditioner.
It’s not like she had much of a way to stop her — her body gave in almost the second that she sat down on the side of the bathtub. Embarrassingly, she needed the maid’s help being lowered safely into the water.
Amy should have hated it. She was naked around someone she didn’t know, dependent on the woman’s help, and unable to resist if she did do something that could harm her.
But she couldn’t really control her situation anymore, not at that point. When given the option of hating it or simply enjoying the sensation, Amy made the easier choice on her conscience. Imagining she was a guest being treated to some special treatment was much better. A pretty woman washed her hair and all she had to do was lounge in warm water. It was quite nice.
As long as Amy could pretend that she was rexing by choice, and not because her body was utterly exhausted from her little trip, she could be happy having spent those forty-five minutes of her life like that.
The maid went out of her way to make sure Amy was properly cleaned with body wash as well!
It’s a good sign of just how strong the reaction to 31 days of accumuted male stench can be. One sniff and she immediately jumped into action! She went out of her way to brush Amy’s hair and even helped her shave.
Seemingly they had the same idea for her clothes and the bedding, which were put into the undry and repced with fresh equivalents.
Amy smells like flowers now! It’s slightly disturbing, as it’s very much a smell she associates with femininity, but it’s also better than reeking like a man. She may be a repper, true, but her nose is one of her only fully functional organs as of today and the stench of a man is one 0f the worst smells she can imagine.
The oddest thing is that the nice perks keep coming despite her status as a prisoner. Her meals have continued to grow over the days — from soup, to a lovely sandwich, and then some pasta carbonara she enjoyed — and this trend has not culminated with a full English breakfast. Amy has never been a particurly big eater, preferring smaller meals throughout the day, but it is nice to have something more substantial now that she has one meal per day and sleeps most of the other hours.
Initially it seemed like a lot of effort to go through simply for her to have a meal, but logically they would just have made a little more of whatever they were going to cook for their aristocratic superiors regardless of Amy’s inclusion.
It’s funny. If Eira wanted to upset the natural hierarchy of things, treating Amy to this much luxury obviously backfired.
Though there’s also an obvious ulterior motive — they want her to recover, so they can put her to work. She was, after all, given a maid dress. The implications are obvious.
Perhaps they can teach her to cook an omelette this good before her eventual escape. It’d mean the experience hasn’t been a total waste of time, at least.
***
It was just a few minutes after Amy finished her meal that multiple people entered the room, deying her return to a world of weird and horny ideas. The first person she could see was Eira, looking quite pleased with herself for the whole world to see, her hand in the small of the back of a scared-looking girl in a maid dress.
The new girl has long hair, down to her shoulders. It looks unkempt, as if she’s not taken proper care of it for weeks, if not months. Unsurprisingly, she has AGP curls. She looks very short, by male standards at least — Amy can’t imagine the girl is more than 5’6.
The girl has a cute little nose, though.
“—We are very gd that you’ve decided to cooperate with us.” Eira tells her quivering victim with a predatory tone. “As a reward for your cooperation, we will be allowing you to stay here, in much nicer facilities than the ones you experienced before. I know you don’t have much of a choice, but I still hope you don’t mind having to share your room with Ms. Amy Finch here.”
“N-No.” The girl whispers, looking at the floor so she doesn’t have to think about the others around her. “I don’t mind.”
“That’s good to hear. We know where to find you when we have additional tasks for you, or indeed for Amy. But until then, there’s just one thing left to do.”
The girl looks up at Eira like a puppy expecting punishment. “Y-yes?”
“I need to congratute you. Welcome to the team, Faith.” The psychopath offers her an incredibly corporate smile.
“That’s not my name—” She whispers.
“We both know it is.” Eira says simply, patting Faith on the head. Amy is filled with anger just from having to watch it happen. “I hope you continue to have an amazing day.”
The maid looks at Amy for a second. Satisfied with what she sees, Eira leaves the two of them locked in the room so they get to meet each other properly.
Both of the kidnapped girls stay silent until Amy can hear the rhythm of the high heels disappear into the distance, at which point she beckons her new roommate over to her bed.
Faith approaches her cautiously. That she does so is entirely understandable to Amy — the girl must have gone through the same things that she did, and clearly one of them was much more capable of taking the blows than the other.
It’s what makes her conclude that the Faith in front of her can’t be her Faith, her best friend. She had always been the most vicious of the three. Dar left behind a graveyard of banned Twitter accounts wherever she went — the trembling thing in front of her doesn’t seem like she could do anything like that. It does make Amy wonder what the girl could have done to end up in a pce like this.
She’s going to be blunt at the risk of making her new roommate uncomfortable. “So, you haven’t been a good ‘girl’, have you?”
Faith stares at her. Inspects her. She has to wonder what is up with this male-looking thing in women’s pyjamas looking like an absolute mess.
Despite all the questions she’s clearly having, they are unable to formute any of them.
“It’s okay.” Amy nods. “Neither have I. That’s why I’m here.”
Faith’s first words come out as a terrified whisper. “What did they do to you?”
“The same they did to you, I assume. They kidnapped me and put me into a cell, told me to wear a maid dress if I wanted to get anything to eat. I had been quite rude to them, you see. But I was never going to wear that dress, so I didn’t eat for as long as I could.” Amy wants to look smug, but can’t manage, given that starving herself is probably the stupidest thing she’s ever done. “I think I sted about a month before everything started to hurt too much. And now, for my sins, I am stuck in bed.”
“Oh.” She stares at Amy, deep in thought. “I, um, they kept me down there for three or four days. They never even told me about the food thing. Eira asked me if I wanted to get out of the cold and I— I just—” She stops mid-sentence.
Amy takes the girl’s hand in a sign of support. The poor thing must have been so terrified down there.
“You’ve been much smarter than me, at least.” Amy insists. “Wearing a dress when forced to isn’t proof of anything other than the disgusting fetishes of those inflicting that pain on you. It’s not like you’re a girl, right?”
Faith takes a moment to think about an answer, which could be a sign that she doesn’t trust Amy at this point — understandable, given the girl doesn’t look particurly tough, and is thus likely to be quite traumatised by the entire experience. It would leave her unlikely to be quick to trust someone she met ten minutes ago.
The alternative is that she genuinely has to consider the question, which is much more worrying, at least if she really is the repper Amy suspects her to be.
“No.” Faith says, eventually. “I’m a man.”
Amy looks at the ‘man’ in front of her, and concludes that if they are one, they’ve never been good at it. Perhaps they were a nasty one, though. At least, the reason they cimed Amy ended up being tortured as she is is because she is misogynistic and transphobic. Maybe this girl would fit the bill too?
It feels very unlikely. Maybe they just wanted to py around with someone more pliable after Amy proved devastatingly defective for their pns.
There’s one way to find out, but it’s not necessarily a fast method. It’s the dance that every 4channer — the ones capable of leaving their mum’s basement, at least — will know, like a mating dance for degenerates when they find each other in the wild. People from such spheres, like Amy, have to be wary of revealing too much of themselves too quickly, especially to people who are obviously transgender in one way or another. Miscalcuting someone’s power level and saying things that are too intense can lead to splits.
Normally, Amy wouldn’t care so much about pissing off some tenderqueer: but she can’t afford to lose allies, not right now.
The girl before her, Faith, is clearly a repressor. She just seems like one. Yes, she may cim she is a man, but a man would not react like this. Faith’s discomfort with femininity is too visceral. Being looked at in a dress is going to be making her feel like death is the preferable alternative, and that feeling would be despite Amy having made very sure to look at the girl’s pretty eyes, rather than any part of her body that might make her feel dysphoric.
That means she could, possibly, be useful for an escape attempt. Amy might have to spend more time making sure she’ll go along with it — she’d rather die than leave someone behind who is so obviously terrified of her feminine fate — but that effort is worth it even if she just has someone to bounce ideas off of whilst formuting her pn.
This girl might not be her Faith, her Dar, but that’s fine. Amy would hate it if Dar got caught up in all this nonsense. Perhaps she’ll be able to reconnect with her in the future, but for now she’ll have to live with another woman forced to use the same name.
Woman? No.
She’s a girl. A little thing. Scared, unable to resist what they are doing to her. She’s soft. Submissive. The exact kind of girl who would, given enough pressure, transition on her own. She would give in to the autogynephilic tendencies, try to escape the dysphoria, reach for the false cure that is transition as opposed to dealing with mental health issues.
Faith is trying so hard to stop the inevitable, and they’re hurting her for it. She is going to be forced to transition. Just like Amy.
It’s despicable.
If anything, Faith needs an ally more than Amy does. Being forced to stop repressing is hard for anyone, but when it is done to them by outside forces? When femininity is enforced upon them? That’s incredibly hard to deal with. Even Amy is dealing with weird dreams and struggling to keep her desires fully aligned, and that is without being intimidated. It has to be harder to resist for someone left terrified after just a few days.
They’re going to be demanding womanhood from her, and it looks like she will be the only one without such expectations from her.
Amy will be the only person Faith will be able to be herself around, and she really hopes the girl will feel comfortable enough to do so. She won’t st very long otherwise.
Day 34?The two of them have spent the past three days in a slow but very intentional dance. Amy has been the one leading, leaving Faith as the one following. It’s not surprising: the girl doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would push forward with more explicitly transphobic discussions.
But when Amy compins about various parts of trans culture, Faith shows both recognition and agreement. Anxiously at first, as if she was scared of showing just how far gone she was from the mainstream, but more and more enthusiastically as they went on. They’ve talked about their distaste for the average trans woman with her owo’s and uwu’s as well as the entire catgirl anarchist meme culture that has blossomed in circles clearly outside of their own. Slowly but surely Amy has shifted the conversations they’ve had to more explicitly redpilled territory, and the increasing comfort of the girl as they did so fills her heart with pride.
They’ve not just danced, of course. They’ve spent their meals together — Amy finally having been upgraded to three full meals a day — and they’ve shared whatever mediocre entertainment has been offered to them. Two days ago the nastiest of the three maids under Eira — Rose was her name — decided to finally enable the television in the kitchenette. She kept her right hand on her hip, near her taser, as she did so. She clearly was waiting for the two captives to try anything, but Amy remains too slow to attempt anything and Faith would be too sweet to do such a thing. Nonetheless, she continued with the approach, probably to enforce the respect that Amy hasn’t exactly shown Kelynen or the maid who helped wash her.
Vivienne was that maid’s name, she remembers. If the Cornish maid Kelynen is Amy’s ‘sponsor’ — which would imply she paid for Amy to be turned into a woman, something that seems unlikely — then the woman with a vague hint of a French accent is Faith’s.
Her roommate is stupidly lucky; her sponsor is pretty. All the women here are pretty, but Vivienne has a bit of Parisian charm to her that Amy quite enjoys.
Something Amy enjoys much less is the programming on their television. It’s stuck on exactly one channel — usefully beled dorley-channel, with the former word seemingly being a nonsense reference — and all the channel offers is mind-melting garbage. Cooking shows, fashion, house renovation and the odd nature documentary. Even BBC news is too problematic for this bunch, apparently.
The television offers both mild distraction and useful white noise for the gaps that inevitably fall into the conversations between Faith and her.
Her roommate is shy and doesn’t tend to talk unless she is spoken to. It makes sense, at least from the little the girl has said about her life before ending up here. Faith was a university drop-out, living off disability payments in a pce as miserable as Hartlepool. She didn’t leave her room much and never talked to anyone. The papers that Amy has read make her assume that the girl is a little autistic in addition to her anxiety — the comorbidities of autism are fascinating — with everything combining to her being less of a conversation partner than Amy would have hoped.
They also come together to make her the perfect victim for a pce such as this.
The mention of Hartlepool, a town in the North East, gives Amy the nasty feeling that this might actually be her Dar. She’d always said she lived near Newcastle. She truly hopes it isn’t her — the thought of her Faith or Jenny being in the programme is too heavy to bear.
Besides, the girl doesn’t recognise her, and she assumes that Dar would at least manage to do that.
Faith’s inclusion in the programme only strengthens her assumption that the pce is not about rehabilitation, as the sponsors have cimed, but instead about acting out the fetishes of whatever aristocrats own this pce. They picked up this innocent girl, without a job, without a future, without people to care for her and brought her here to py out whatever fantasies they have for her.
The worst part is that Amy hasn’t needed to ask Faith what crimes against femininity she has allegedly committed. It’s obvious that they wouldn’t be anything substantial. Perhaps an envious look or the kind of snder that autistic men face so often. It makes the question feel like one that would only hurt her, as the accusations by the sponsors are overblown and meant as a tool to gaslight her into believing that she deserves the treatment she’s getting.
She really needs to get the poor girl out of here.
Day 39?Amy is feeling great.
Perhaps it’s the fact that she’s been spending the past two weeks consistently sleeping more than twelve hours per day. Perhaps it’s the fact that she’s been having three meals a day for the first time in a month and a half. Perhaps it’s simply the fact that she’s been in a low distraction environment for the first time in decades, giving her brain a little space to rex rather than continue rattling on at a million miles an hour. But she’s feeling amazing and alive in ways that she’s never felt alive before, especially now that she’s recovered to the point that she can walk again.
Who knew being kidnapped could be so rexing.
It does make sense, though: most of her life has been spent juggling an incredible amount of responsibilities, from school to extracurricur activities to being a good little son and an even better party soldier. Her life was governed by her schedule, neatly avaible in her phone, everything organised to fit together fwlessly without a minute being wasted. The few moments of reprieve she had were spent online or with her friends, such as on the bus, whilst preparing a meal for herself, or te at night.
All that is gone now. Intentionally so — Kelynen had mentioned something about using her time to consider all that she’d done, and Amy has very much ignored that suggestion. She’s spent her time with Faith instead, realising things about herself just as much as she’s concluded things about her fellow prisoner.
First, and perhaps most obviously, she thinks the girl is cute. It’s not about the way she looks, per se — though she can almost see the shape of the cute girl that estrogen and FFS would chisel out of her — but about her behaviour. Amy loves the way that the girl starts to blush when Amy looks at her too long, the way that her hand embraced Amy’s extra hard when she still needed help walking, the way Faith looks away from her whilst talking, her eyes darting around the room as she thinks of the words she wants to say. She talks slowly and considers her words well, like Amy does at times, but without the ulterior motive.
It’s absolutely adorable.
The other thing she’s noticed about herself is that she is, regrettably, vulnerable to emotion. She’d always hoped that she could work things out as rationally as possible, working with the main advantage that she had in a world filled with men relying on strength, aggression, and the ability to be really fucking loud. But Faith opened up a feeling that she didn’t know she had — at least not to this extent. She wants to protect the girl from the world around her, and continue to strengthen herself so she can do that as effectively as possible.
Amy has finally been able to think through all this now that her mind has been cleared. She’s been able to promise herself that yes, she will resist, and yes, she will not give in, and that yes, she won’t let them wear her down like that anymore. She’ll demand her autonomy. Enforce her right to do whatever she wants, when she wants, and definitely not let herself be the kind of person who needs to be cared for again. Being that weak in the face of oppression is a failure on her part.
And she’s not doing it for herself — she’s doing it for Faith.
Her efforts are paying off too. It was a day or two ago that Vivienne visited them with the announcement that Faith would be put to work, doing the maidly duties that had long been expected of them and ignored up to this point. When Faith whispered that they didn’t make the same demand of Amy, Vivienne rolled her eyes and pointed out that Amy is still recovering from starvation. Faith, on the other hand, was perfectly healthy and capable of doing work.
She wasn’t going to give Faith much of a choice, her hand on her taser as an obvious threat to the poor girl. Amy wasn’t going to watch it happen, so she moved herself in between the sponsor and Faith, held on to the side of the bed to make herself look more disabled than she was, and dared the sponsor to shoot. Vivienne would only be tasing a helpless woman. Nothing that is below their kind in the first pce, given the tortures they were willing to put Faith through.
The sponsor quickly withdrew from that confrontation afterwards, and Faith looked at her with pure awe.
It’s not like it was a permanent victory, fundamentally shaking the system and bringing it to colpse. In fact, all it led to was the sponsors returning with an overwhelming force to ensure Amy couldn’t intervene, but she’ll still take it. It’s her first successful resistance, the first that didn’t end up with her getting hurt, and she proved that to both Faith and the sponsors that they are not all-powerful.
A sponsor hasn’t entered the room alone since.
It made it all the funnier when all four maids entered the room at once, though that was an amusement that went away as quickly as it came the second Amy noticed they were escorting a third victim.
It was someone who clearly was much more of a boy. His blond hair was short and a little wavy, his face covered in obvious stubble — though it was the kind of stubble that a regur man would get after a week or so of neglecting his bodily hygiene — and he stands tall and proud in the face of both the maid dress and the taser aimed at him. Sure, he followed their orders, but given the overwhelming force he’d faced up to now, it made sense that he would.
But it was the moment that Eira called the ‘girl’ by ‘her name’ that Amy froze for a second, stuck in her thoughts.
Jenny.
Her other best friend mentioned a few times that he’d considered the name Jenny. They were some of his weakest moments and when he was closest to giving up on repression. He usually went by the nickname Ray instead, a moniker she’d given him based on both his username — disciple-of-bnchard — and his tendency to read certain scientific literature. Amy used it at first when Jenny got too deep into reading some studies about autogynephilia, telling him to ‘take a break, Ray.’
He’s one of her best friends, and they’ve kidnapped him.
And if they’ve taken one of them, they surely wouldn’t be below taking her other best friend as well — it must mean that Faith was Dar all along. Her Darjeeling! She still can’t believe that her friend would be this soft, but the signs were there all along; she did take her username from an anime girl, after all.
Amy quickly pounces on her friend after the sponsors leave.
“Bloody hell, Ray, what have they done to you?” She asks, putting her hands on his shoulders.
Ray looks at her like she’s told him the most insane thing he’s ever heard. It takes Amy a second to realise that he hasn’t drawn the same conclusion about her identity yet.
“It’s me! RM!” RM — short for rees-mogged. “You know. From online.”
Ray stares at Amy in disbelief, meaning an emotional Dar is the first to speak.
“I thought you were dead.” She whispers, breaking Amy’s heart in the process.
