CHAPTER 2: INTO THE BELLY OF THE BEAST
I emerged from the one story NaSE (National Service Entrance) Facility into a beautiful mid -- morning Monday. Behind me was that portal which had swallowed me and my husband Jerry, a week ago. I turned to look back at the entrance. Ellipses, etched in the grey poured concrete around the grimy plexiglass entrance, symbolized a vagina. I wondered aloud, "Having been vomited out of the belly of the beast, shouldn't I feel reborn?"
Next to me stood two co -- inductees, a statuesque blond on my right and the petite brunette on my left just been released with me looked at me as if I were crazy.
One week ago I had stood with my husband Jerry in the same spot. A morose tone filled his voice, "If I only had more time." Clutching Jerry's arm, I marched up the path to answer our call -- up notice. Jerry leaned over to whisper,
"Be of good cheer// Let drop no tear// A little bravado// Be strong: show no fear"
Now a week later, outside, my two co -- inductees, released with me, were straightening out the clothes issued. The pants and shirt issued to the statuesque blond did not cover her belly button; the short brunette Ronnie had been issued clothing so big that she rolled up the sleeves and cuffed the pants.
Me? I was lucky. My husband Jerry was a veteran. A New Law which required Nation Service of every unemployed person not in school under age 40 was touted as promoting full employment, securing repayment of student loans and fighting crime. Jerry and I out of work for a month were called up.
Though happy to regain a measure of freedom, I felt alone. Part of me had been torn away. Jerry had not been released. Yet to him, I owed my good fortune in not being herded into the back of a carbon -- monoxide belching truck for transportation to a distant training facility.
As a veteran of the armed forces, once through the induction process, Jerry had taught me well right up to our last shower together, hours before we had to report in.
"I wish we had more time," Jerry said wistfully.
"So do I," I murmured, pursing my lips. "Yeah, let`s get down to it. Eat me out!" I didn't usually talk dirty to stir Jerry up, but this morning was special. "OMG, fuck me hard!" I fell to my knees "Let me take your cock," I fondled Jerry's spongy dangling post into a solid pillar, "and ram it up my slit. I need to feel your red -- hot man sap run inside."
Reaching his muscular hand under my arm pits, Jerry lifted to my feet. "Good," he commented, "your pits are smooth." Crunched a vice grip only Jerry's muscular body could secure, I heard an unexpected compliment, "Your legs are satiny smooth."
"And I trimmed my pussy hairs like you told me. But, dammit, what's the point?" I pouted, "Who do I have to show off for? I might end up locked down for two years with other women?"
Jerry's answered in rhyme.
"Entering the infernal machine,// Life can be more serene// Body fresh, Neat and clean,// Skin clear, bright eyes gleam// Presented bare, with good hygiene."
As I stood outside the building with two other gals just released, I reflected, as frustrating my last weeks in my home with Jerry were, the absent Jerry had guided me well. The clothes I had worn here reporting in were well worn. My dungarees and my oversized top, Jerry's T shirt, were so raggy that nobody would have dared steal. I did end up with someone else's underwear. She must have been sweating bullets when they told her what she would have to do. I sighed. At least she didn't shit herself.
A week ago, holding Jerry very close in the shower, I felt his bulge harden against my belly. "A couple more days would have been enough," Jerry bemoaned our call -- up.
I chuckled with that pulsating rocket a couple of minutes more was all I needed. Jerry fell into one of those sing -- song limericks he came up with.
"Whatever is insisted, // Show no resistance// Impervious without care// Even when suggested//
What none would ever dare."
Just inside the door, a tall woman in a grey uniform suit with a blue arm bands with hair bound up on top of her head, directed, "Men to the right, women to the left, trans -- men straight ahead. Jerry released his grip on my arm, leaned over to whisper, "Remember."
My mouth was moving but no words escaped as Jerry disappeared to the crowd of men. Ordered by the grey uniformed guard to shhh, I found myself among four women shunted off to the left. When one e inter -- sex man attempted to join the ladies, with her baton, the grey jacketed guard directed the trans -- man to proceed straight ahead. "Interesting," the guard told her female colleague, "No female inductee tries to enter with the guys."
Lined up in a darkened corridor with four other women, I waited. What would come next? I looked into the faces of my companions. What did I see? Was it indifference or concern, compliance or confusion, dreamy detachment or fear and anxiety?
Only a short time earlier in the shower, Jerry, with hands on my shoulders forced us apart. "You're forewarned," Jerry had described in -- processing in a ditty. How did it go? We'd be herded in like cattle on the hoof, inspected like a prize horse at auction, shorn like sheep and tested like chimps in a lab. Was that it?
Struggling as I might, I couldn't remember the exact words of Jerry's little shower ditty. He had recited it in the shower earlier that morning as he pushed me away. My attention was drawn to his rising, throbbing crane pointed at me. "It," pointing to the tip, "knows where it wants to go."
Now awaiting in -- processing, I tried to follow Jerry's advice to present a blank face, "no emotional reaction, no matter the provocation." As I racked my brain to recall that jingle, a guard's comment that trans -- men expected cervical examinations brought to mind Jerry's ditty on trans -- men:
"Male and female he made them// Whence then// the trans -- femme// Come from?"
Chuckling brought my way the swish of the grey unformed guard's dress pants. "Something funny, Inductee?" She asked. Turning to her colleague, the guard asked, "Who's in there today?"
"Sergeant Meyers," the other guard called out, "Sergeant Meyers gives inductees a good toss."
"Inside," the guard sneered, "If you behave yourself, you might get some thrills." Turning to the others, she, pointing with her night stick, warned, "You'll get your turn."
Upon entering the room, I faced an electronic security scanner. A female clerk in a grey smock seated at a table instructed me to provide my id, remove all jewelry, empty my pockets -- everything including money and change, handbag and overnight bags.
When I presented my driver's license, a couple of dollars and some small change, I shook my head to the clerk's question about jewelery and bags. "Name?" the clerk growled.
