Disclaimer: All characters over 18
Therese
When I tried to imagine, there's nobody here, I was lonely. When I looked at those around, I felt trapped, not very comforted by others in a similar predicament. Granted, this day actually started peacefully for me and from what I've heard, I was more lucky than many of us. Exercise can refresh you in a splendid way and it mostly did for me, cutie Barbara and countless others when we were taken into gym. First aerobic lesson, than instruments pumped our blood, the only thing distracting being now shouting of "Faster!" I was grateful there were not male wardens for now, but I didn't realize how short-lived this luck was meant to be today.
I always understood that you can sense the God through his creation alone, but the heart points towards Him especially when we are desperate. I was truly feeling something, when I was sending prayers silently, just not the utter liberation, far from it. His test was just beginning.
I know that I started to choke on shame during that awful examination of my intimate body. Doctor had to wipe my tears several times in order I could see the view screen and I was sobbing back in my white bra and panties as I returned with Barbara to the room, where we sat on my bed.
"You mustn't broke," whispered the girl to me. "Maybe we'll get our lives and dreams back."
"I was living only for one dream, Barbara. For my nunnery." Barbara seemed to be flabbergasted. "Oh yes, if the things were running as they should, I would have taken my vows by now.... But someone has taken me instead. Someone, who claimed that good looking, nice and fertile wenches belong to the whole society." I tried to make at least sad laugh, but I just screamed a little again.
"Well, my parents wanted me to be a musician, I wanted to work in fashion.", said Barbara, sounding embarrassed. "Now, like if what we were never existed. But that doesn't mean we will not be once again deciding what we'll become."
I was discussing with my source of vain hope only a little longer when came wardens with Zita and Mrs. Thompson and the joy was ending. Younger girls had they first regular education lesson, leaving us alone with six wardens and their robust leader.
"Thompson, Kelly, strip down and stand to attention!", she shouted. Two small and one big piece of underwear ended on the sheets behind us and we offered our naked figures, from my extremely skinny calves to slightly sagged breasts of Mrs. Thompson. Wardens were taking our pictures, with me having probably pretty red face now - just like the pieces of our prescribed attire we were given immediately afterwards. The dress for Art of Lovemaking was actually looking a lot of like Mrs. Thompson's discarded clothing, covering much of front body, but revealing most of backs. Peculiar about them was their consistence. They were made up from long rags connected to each other by fasteners. Between our legs we had the large metal badge with a sign. On mine it read "You are the source of my wetness", while Mrs. Thompson had there "Just dig deep, my flesh needs it". Wearing this, I felt cold on the skin even on covered parts and not just because of all the metal parts. "I'm married, you won't prostitute me!", shouted Mrs. Thompson loudly. "The marriage is unspoiled, if you are in the hands of only female tutors", answered the warden. "And you along with your husband should be grateful, if we are trying to improve your marriage skills."
The next circle of hell could be a nickname for the room we reached after mere fifteen minutes in the wing we have never been before. Barely registering shelves full of books, we joined the group of women in the wide range of ages from their 20's to 40's in the same vulgare clothes, but each with uniquely vulgar sign, shivering and looking in front of themselves where podium stood underneath two middle aged ladies in suits and one younger one dressed just like us, each with cold, uncaring look. This was the place where I could very well have my leg chewed of by the metal teeth and going inside of myself did me no good.
Pitying each other and afraid of the guards, a lot of us was simply staring on the podium. Brunette with a hawkish nose behind a microphone had our full attention and started to talk with a lot of confidence.
"Babies and our partner's pleasure. I don't have to tell you how is it both connected with the physical act of love. Before we can be mothers, we must be joyful whores, in our case limited to one man, giving him constant satisfaction, like if our very life depended on it." She took a pause and then went more dramatic. "The society of tomorrow will put away the shame that was unjustly given prostitutes and strippers. Many of them are here with us and once they'll learn about family life at home and they will lose the last illusions about female independence, we might have some of the best companions."
This sounded to me like terribly dirty take on Christian forgiveness.