Sliming

“Alright ladies. Welcome in. I’m Captain Huxtable.” That big bitch said. Now, apparently, Captain Huxtable.

I snickered. Her head snapped my way.

Fuck.

I tried to act like it wasn’t me. Hands now shackled behind my back like the rest of the girls. Frog-tied for compliance.

My blue eyes moved around, looking at anything but her as she walked my way.

She approached.

Stopped at my side.

“Could you repeat yourself, Cutie Pie?”

I did that thing… y’know? Where you hope it goes away if you don’t look at it?

That didn’t work.

She grabbed my face and snatched it.

I looked her right in the eyes.

“I… Didn’t.. Ooghk!” She punched me in the stomach!?

Oh my god… Oh my god…

The pain was unreal.

It felt like a dull needle was digging into the middle of me. It forced all the air out of my lungs. It collapsed my diaphragm.

I actually couldn’t get my lungs to work.

All the air was out of my lungs. Was out of earth.

Was out of space.

I was bent over her fist… I’ve never felt so bad for that nerd kid at my shelter in my life.

That kid used to get beat up every day.

Oh my fucking god…

She let me drop to my knees and I did. Ungracefully.

My face hit the floor next. Ass in the air. Cheek on the wet, dirty ground.

My freckles were flushed… my eyes were locked on the wall.

I had to will my soul back into my body.

Then I sucked in a desperately needed breath as she grabbed my hair and snatched me up onto my knees.

“What… the fuck… was that sound that came out of you, Spencer?”

I couldn’t talk. Tears were slowly spilling down my shocked face as I stared at her.

“I’m sorry.” I croaked out.

“I’m aware,” She whispered in my face, her breath cool peppermint. Then she leaned in and whispered lower. Right in my ear. “I just want you to know… I’m gonna fuck you up later. I just want you to think about that for now.”

Then she stood up and shoved my head, marching back to the front of the line.

“Welcome in, Ladies.” Her voice was at ease.

I coughed and got back to my knees.

Stuttering coughs as I thought about my future…

She was actually gonna beat me up.

I never got beat up before. Not like… bad. I mean, I’ve gotten into scuffles but.

Like fucked up, beat up?

Never…

They walked us from outside of those massive walls into the big open hangar at the bottom of them. My stomach still hurt from her punching me like a man. I didn’t even think shit like that could happen.

I was just shocked… and I was going to get more…

Before we dipped under the hangar I took one last look around. Every road leading towards The Irish ended in a hangar. Not a large one. One long enough to get our bus into, maybe… but it was mostly for check-in.

That’s why the bus stopped to humiliate us out there.

Captain Barbie Bitch was walking around shoving girls, intimidating, shoving us into order and into line.

The next part? Was embarrassing.

As if it wasn’t that already.

We made it to a turnstile, each of us walked up to it. Two angry looking women stood wanding people, patting people down.

They turned our pockets inside out. They made us turn this way. And that way.

Captain Huxtable helped me out during the pre-check.

Snatching my shirt up. Snatching up my government issue sports bra…

I felt my tight little titties bounce free while she stared me in the eyes.

“Clear.” She winked at me.

My eyes went wide as she tucked my bra back down.

My lip curled but I kept my mouth.

The fact that she didn’t manhandle me was almost more terrifying.

She lovingly put my tits away, leaned in and slid my shirt down.

Then her hands went rough, whipping me to turn my profile.

She took her time checking my government issue prison pants.

I felt her squeeze a handful of my sporty round ass and grunted.

Fuck, she was … really grabbing a handful.

“Finding what you’re looking for?”

“Shut up!” She hissed, shoving me to bend over the inspection table.

Hard.

My cheek smacked against it roughly and I grunted. Feeling her snatch my pants down. Expose my government issue sport shorts wrapped around the…

Okay. Look. I’m not out here trying to flex on the socials or whatever… But like I said, I really enjoyed keeping fit.

And it only ever brought me the wrong kind of attention.

Like right now.

A lot of girls were a nice, neat, convenient little Honda. And that’s fine.

Some of us were fuckin’ corvettes. I’m not gonna feel bad about that.

Least not until this bitch shoved a deep curve in my back and said something that made my skin crawl.

“Mmn… Like that, Lucille Ball.”

Is this shit legal!? Wait…

Did she just call me Lucille Ball?

Why did everybody do that!?

“Aahh—“ I grunted as she pressured my spine. I rocked my booty up and dipped my stomach.

“Clear…” She said, her palm clapping the round of my ass with a meaty pop.

“Ahh!” I cried out.

“That sounded like it hurt,” she grunted in reply.

No fuckin’ shit, Amazonia.

I snapped up standing, tugging my pants up, glaring at her.

Then I was off to my next humiliation.

Shoving my way through the door the girls in front of me had gone through. I actually had the nerve to be indignant about it. Huffing as I stomped off.

Officer Huxtable laughed.

“Strip.” A woman in white scrubs ordered the second I got through the next door.

I walked in, looked down and saw a blue square taped to the floor. The last one of a set of six.

Guess I was part of group one.

I noticed the floor was like a public shower. It had a communal drain down the slightly angled floor leading to it.

“What!?” One woman called, apparently not understanding that we’d lost all rights at the point of conviction.

One of those big ass guards slapped her so hard I thought she disappeared.

She just fell.

Fast.

I winced for her and quickly got my clothes off. Tugging. Peeling off layers like my life depended on it. Down to my underwear. I did not want any of what she just got.

Everyone did.

Then they rolled in from a set of double doors behind the woman in the lab coat a table with two large liquid canisters on it.

The guards grabbed the hoses attached to them, starting to adjust the nozzles, set the pressure and…

“Oh shi—“ Didn’t matter.

We were pelted.

And they started laughing as we all freaked out.

Slammed into the wall by a torrent of foamy, sploogy green shit.

Bright green.

I felt stupid.

Like an old kids TV show contestant humiliating myself in front of people. I sputtered as they intentionally blasted me in the face when I tried to defend myself. They pelted my stomach, my back when I turned away. It felt grainy. It irritated my skin, but that’s when I realized it was disinfecting me.

I even felt it tingle under my fingernail tips. It made me scratch at myself. Felt it crawl all over my skin.

Everyone started scratching and wailing. Screaming as they kept spraying us over and over.

I howled. I screamed. I spat out green gunk that tasted like that disgusting pink stuff at the dentist’s office. My life was a confusing fugue of textures I hated and tastes that I was horrified by.

I just surrendered to it. Turning my head into the wall and covering my head.

I coughed, sputtered and cried.

This can’t be real.

This can’t be life.

I. Hate. My. Life.