Chapter 1: Follow the White Rabbit

2023 October 6th, Friday

He had been hanging out on the Consensus server for a couple of years now. Today had been bad, but he had some friends here and didn’t want them to worry too much. He had recently gotten fired from his dead-end job, he had no family who acknowledged him, no friends who were local, was low on resources, and the government openly despised him, he was dysphoric, and he was done with it. She was a fantasy.

Closet dwellers anonymous:

Welcome to closet dwellers anonymous, what is talked about here, stays here. Privacy is paramount, violate it, and you will be removed from the server. Read and agree to the rules in the pinned [welcome message].

hopeless:

Hey all, I'm just, so exhausted, I’m giving up. I really appreciate all of you trying to help me continue to hope, but I’m just, I’m done. I’ll be deleting my account here tonight, and I’m giving up on any hope. The wait is too long. I have no money. I have no support, and I’m done. This was a nice fantasy for a while. I wish all of you nothing but the best. Please don’t worry about me, I’m not going to do anything rash, I just need to stop focusing on the impossible.

Several of his friends on the server tried to convince him to not give up, but he wasn’t having it. He removed himself from the server and navigated to the account settings page to delete it. But before he could, he got a direct message.

basement dweller:

Hey, so, I know you don’t know me, I mostly just lurk on the server you just left, and I know you are about to hit delete on your account, I can’t stop you. But. I have an offer.

He nearly stopped reading right there, but immediately after a much bigger message came in.

basement dweller:

What if I told you I knew a way you could transition, be yourself? It would mean sacrifice, but transition often does. You would be disallowed from contacting friends or family from before, you would have to pretend to be something you aren’t for a little while. Ultimately, your transition would be covered, free and clear, up to and including any and all medications, treatments, or surgeries. It won’t be easy or pleasant, though.

He paused, this is a joke, right? A scam. Or just another ‘if you could press the button?’ nonsense. Oh, fine. Whatever. Yes. He would, of course he would. But there wasn’t any hope of that. He typed it, hesitated but then sent it, what was the worst that could happen?

hopeless:

Yes.

And then ‘basement dweller’ didn’t respond. After half an hour, he figured it was just someone trying to give him hope. There wasn’t any to have, though. He navigated back to the account page and deleted it. Then deleted the app. Then he opened his browser and started deleting bookmarks. He could never remember addresses on his own, so now they might as well be gone for good. He locked his cheap old phone, put it on the charger and curled up in a ball on the small bed and cried himself to sleep.

2023 October 7th, Saturday

One of his former coworkers must have realized James was probably having a hard time of it, and he invited James over Saturday morning to watch a football match. James decided to take him up on it, hoping it would be a good time. By the end of the day, he just felt dirty. Dirtier than he had trying to upsell customers on protection plans.

He didn’t know what team to cheer for even after having it pointed out, and got glared at by the assembled guys when he cheered when the other team made a good play and scored. He had a beer, but even that he somehow seemed to mess up in some subtle unwritten way because near the end of regulation one of the others pestered him about how he held the bottle or something.

By the time he got back to his studio flat, he just collapsed, wishing for the universe to just end it. This was the kind of thing he had to learn to do and put up with, though, right? If he was truly going to give up on it?

2023 October 8th, Sunday

On Sunday, he woke up feeling awful and went to have some breakfast and found only one Weetabix left, and he cursed. He hated Weetabix. But it was cheap, and it was abundant, and it filled him for the morning, but he needed more than one. He ate it anyway and then decided he would have to go to the supermarket later, and dip in to his meager remaining funds.

He started doing mental math as he ate to how long he could survive. James didn’t like the answer. He realistically only had another month's rent and utilities on hand, and about half that again for absolute necessities, and that was due in about a week.

He could hit the food bank, maybe? Would reduce how much he needed to get at the store. He had been there some before, with his family when he was little, albeit on the other side, helping distribute because ‘good Christian’s help those in need’. He snorted at the thought before he took another bite. James heard how his parents talked about the people they ‘helped’ when they came home. He decided against it today.

He finished his Weetabix and decided earlier rather than later was best. James grabbed his phone and keys and headed out to the cheap supermarket. As he walked, he silently ironically thanked his mum for teaching him to cook, in albeit, as limited a fashion as she had. Buying ingredients and cooking was often cheaper in terms of money than packaged food, but time was often an issue.

The walk to the store gave his mind too much time to wander, and he cursed not owning a car, but knew it was one more expense. The walk had some spots that there wasn’t a lot around, just some fields.

He got to the store, and it was odd, he kept feeling like he was being watched as he wandered the aisles. He tried to shake it off and headed to the tills. James decided on the self-checkout machine, he disliked that stores used them to reduce staffing, but he didn’t have interacting with people today in him. James winced a bit at the total, prices were still going up. He should’ve gone to the food bank.

A young woman with auburn hair nearby bumped in to him as he picked up his bags. She started apologizing immediately. He mumbled that it was okay, and she offered her name, Ellen, and he mumbled his was James. She started to say something else, but he was already out the door.

He started trudging with his bags, wishing he had one of those carts. Kicking the occasional pebble off the sidewalk as he walked. It was a dreary day, but thankfully not raining. He paused briefly at a four-way stop and a van pulled up beside him, before he knew it, he was pulled inside. Before he could even scream, whoever it was had jabbed him with a needle, and he felt himself rapidly drift off.

2023 October 9th, Monday

He woke up to a mild headache, and quickly sat upright, this was not his bed. As bad as his bed was, this was worse. Where was he? He took in the small room, solid concrete on 5 sides of the box, with one wall being glass. There was a little metal toilet in the other back corner, and what appeared to be a door set in the glass. He was dressed in an ugly, scratchy green smock and nothing else. Upsetting. He got up and went over and fumbled with the handle, locked, which he had somewhat figured and felt foolish for having tried.

How did he get here? The last thing he remembered was walking home from the cheap supermarket on Sunday morning. After that mysterious message in Consensus, he had gone back to his plan, to just be a guy. He had thrown out his stash of clothing, small though it was. Did he vaguely remember a van? And being yanked in? Had he been kidnapped? Picked up by some secret police for being a boy wrong?

He peered out through the well cleaned glass onto a concrete hallway, there seemed to be a puddle of light to the left of his cell — lacking a better term — but none to his right. He noticed a bit of a flicker in the light puddle to his left. James tried rapping on the glass with his knuckles to draw attention, but it must not have been loud enough for whoever it was to hear, and they wouldn’t have been able to see each other anyway.

There wasn’t anything to do in the cell, so he sat down next to the glass wall near the door, where he could still just see the other cell’s light puddle. Maybe eventually the other person would notice the puddle of light or something coming from his cell.

It wasn’t too long before there was a tapping coming from the left, he thought. Then he saw them as they entered the light puddle, four young women in nice outfits, wearing heels and dresses. They looked like they were on their way to a nice day out, but incongruously they were carrying tasers in hand. He slammed on the glass wall with his palms and screamed when they turned to face the other cell. They either couldn’t hear him or were very well focused. He saw them approach what he figured was the other cell’s door, and was pretty sure they were opening the door. Then he thinks they hauled whoever was in the other cell out and off in the direction they had come from. Where had they taken whoever it was? Who was it? Why were either of them here?

Too many questions. Nowhere near enough information.

After what seemed like forever, he had never been good at distracting himself, he heard the rhythmic tapping of heels again, and got up and watched as she approached. She was gorgeous, a bit taller than him even without heels probably, and with them? She was definitely looking down on him. He wasn’t sure what her intentions were until she stopped right in front of his cell, and spoke. “Hello, James, is it…?”

He sputtered to life, shocked he could hear her initially “My name is James… yes…, who are you, what… where.”

She held up a hand, “My friends call me Stephanie, I’m going to be your sponsor.”

“My… ‘Sponsor’? What is this place? Why am I here?”

She laughed, “We’ve watched you for quite a while, tried to help, but we can only do so much… out there…”. He sat there quietly for a bit, zoning out, trying to think. She decided to interject in to my silence. “I brought you breakfast, and an electric shaver. I remember how I felt waking up in here,” she said, making a gesture over her face.

“How you felt…?” James asked, then realized his face must have stubble on it, not that it was really controllable, even a good electric usually left him with a notable shadow. Stupid black hair. Wait, how ‘she felt’? Why would she care about a razor that much? He noticed she hadn’t responded. Look at her. Wait, was she… “Are… were you… like me?” James asked quietly before he can stop.

“Yes and no, or did you have a more specific question? Precision is important.”

James couldn’t contain it, he was pretty unbalanced at this point mentally. “Are you trans?” he rushed out before he could chicken out again.

Stephanie smiled, “Yes James, or maybe I should say, ‘hopeless’? I am trans.”

“Wait, are you ‘basement dweller’?” James asked.

“That’s me, And I know what you do online at night, when you think no one else does. Anyway, like I said, we had tried to help, but sometimes for certain people, like you, we extend an offer…” she said calmly.

“An offer? As far as I can tell, you kidnapped me!?” He shouted, incredulous, “I thought it was a joke! I wouldn’t have agreed to this.”

She smiled sweetly, “I am actually not sorry for our methods, there are reasons why they must sometimes be… less than polite.“

James boggled at the combo of her expression and statement, “And if I don’t go along with whatever you are doing here?”

“Helping you and others transition? You will be free to go…”

“But I’ve seen your face! I know you’ve got at least one other person down here! And you were escorting them with tasers of all things! I’ll report you!” He said getting more upset.

“You haven’t seen enough to make a case to the authorities if we drop you back at your apartment sedated. But most importantly… if you leave, you won’t get any help from us transitioning, and we know what your situation is. In depth.”

He paused at that, sat down again next to the door with his back against the wall.

“I… I need to think.”

“Understandable, meanwhile, if you will retreat to your bed, I'll drop some food off for you…”

He nodded and stood and walked over to the bed and sat on it. She unlocked the door, it looked like with her fingerprint, not unbeatable, but difficult. She set the tray inside, it looked like a couple of cereal bars, and a sealed bottle of water. Stephanie immediately stood up, closing the door behind her and locking it. “I'll be back later with dinner and to exchange trays, if you decide you are ready to talk, just say so. We will know.” He nodded numbly.

When she was back outside, and had locked the door again, she smirked, “don’t take too long… Sophia…” and immediately turned and walked away.

He shouted after her, “Wait! How did you know that name?” but she didn’t respond or return. He had never posted it anywhere online, never even spoken it aloud? Just who were these people that go around kidnapping trans people. It seemed at best a terrible way of helping them.

But. Transition. For free. Supposedly. But what proof of that did he have? James thought. She could be lying. He was locked in what he assumed was an underground room. They could just as easily kill him as help him transition. With that many people with tasers around, they could probably do whatever they damn well pleased to him, and he would be powerless to stop them. Yet on the other hand, she said she would let him go…

***

Round and round his mind went. He did finally get up and eat the food, washing his hands after in the little sink built in to the back of the toilet before collapsing back on the bed. The food had helped some. He finally called out. “I’m ready, I guess.”

The hidden intercom crackled to life, a distorted voice said, “Noted.” It wasn’t long before he heard the clack of her heels on the concrete floor of the hallway once more. He stood up next to the bed, unsure what to do or say as she came in to the view.

“So, she said, stay or go?”

“Questions…” he said.

“You realize that some questions I can’t answer until you commit to this, right?” She said, tilting her head slightly to one side.

He hesitated. “Yes, I understand.”

“Ask away then, and if I can’t answer, I will say so.”

He took a moment, trying to sort the list by the ones he thought she might answer. “How did you know?”

“How did we know what? You’ve been venting in Consensus for years, not all servers are terribly private.”

“I mean… How did you know that name… I’ve never… I’ve never posted… that… to Consensus… or anywhere online…”

“Ah, well, that was in your journal on your phone.”

“But… it was… it was encrypted…” He said quietly.

She laughed, “Well, not by our standards, but by the time you are done here, you will have tools that will actually protect your secrets, but your new name won’t be one of them anymore Sophia…”

“But my old name would be?”

“Yes.”

“Who was the other person?”

“Can’t answer that until you commit.”

Right, he realized, she wasn’t going to answer any of those kinds of questions. Hrm. “Okay. How do I know it's real?”

“I’m all the proof you could ever need, but I realize trust is difficult… this place helped me transition. Heck, four years ago, I woke up in this very cell, almost to the day even!”

“I, you, you were kidnapped like me?”

She smiled, “sort of, our positions aren’t quite the same, but there is a lot of similarity, I too woke up alone and confused, but the reasons I was here, were different, I had searched for this place.“

“Wait, what is this place, exactly?”

“That's probably all the more I can answer until you commit. Stay, or leave, your choice.”

“What happens if, after I commit, I freak out because you are doing horrible things?”

“That would be a bad idea, none of the people who have committed to this offer have ever backed out, so I am not entirely sure what would happen in the heat of the moment.”

“You would kill me?”

She pursed her lips, “No, but there are fates worse than death.”

“I… I…”

“Before you answer, I'll say this, you’ve been down this road before, Sophia. We know about your last purge a year ago. We know how bad it got for you then. If you leave, you know what's coming. If not this time, then eventually.”

He felt faint and sat down on the bed hard. He knew in the back of his mind this was unsustainable. Once cracked, you can’t put the egg back together. You will know forever. And to not transition hurts so much. To be trapped in a body still forming in ways that tortured his mind. He knew he had to find a way to or out eventually.

“This is your way, it won’t be easy, but you can do it, I believe in you,” she said.

“I need more time to think.”

“Of course.”

“Is there… is there a time limit?”

“In theory, no, in practice, you will go out of your mind one way or another in here alone eventually.”

He nodded quietly.

“I am going to swap out your food trays, I probably won't be back until the morning, please think it over and decide sooner rather than later,” He didn’t move except to nod.

He heard her open the door and close it, and then heard her heels walk back down the corridor. Commit or run. Commit or run. Commit or run. He had always chosen ‘run’ before. Back when his parents disowned him, back when his friend group found out and kicked him out of their flat. Just last Friday night, he had decided to run from it again.

He sat there for what felt like hours but probably was only one, finally he walked over and picked up the tray, a sandwich, some crisps, and a bottle of water, nothing fancy, but food. He sat there numbly eating it and thinking. Whatever was going on here must be incredibly illegal, worse, even, than just kidnapping, for them to be protecting it this severely. They had his phone, and his passcodes, apparently. They must have read everything. He rarely even wrote his name in them. He barely even wanted to admit it to himself in his head most of the time. Until he could be her fully, he would rather not be her at all.

Then he realized if they had read everything… then they… oh no, they would know about it. About his shame. How he’s survived. Oh shit, oh fuck, he thought repeatedly for a while. How could they even still offer?

Eventually, the lights started dimming, it must be bedtime, he was pretty tired after all. Thinking this much had been taxing, he curled up in a ball on the cot and did his best to fall asleep in the twilight lighting level.

2023 October 10th, Tuesday

At some point, he must have drifted off, and he awoke with a start, and looked around and saw a fresh tray of food. Another cereal bar and another bowl of fruit and another large bottle of water. He was hungrier than he would’ve expected, given he didn’t do much yesterday, and he started eating at it hungrily.

Before too long, after he finished washing his hands, he heard the tap tap tap of her heels again.

Stephanie reappeared by the glass wall, she was carrying a bundle of things with her. “Commit or run?” she asked.

He hesitated, “Commit…”

“No take backs, final answer. I need you to say you understand and agree if you are aware that from this point forward, there is no turning back, you will remain here until you have transitioned. Say you understand and agree.”

“I understand and agree,” he said, sounding more sure than he felt, still deeply worried at what he had just agreed to. “Now, can you tell me what this place is?”

She smiled, “Welcome to Dorley Hall! The short answer is, we take in bad boys and make them in to good girls against their will.”

He stared at her blankly from the bed. “What. The. Fuck? Like some crappy story online?”

She laughed, “Not remotely the same. Every year, we find a handful of young men whose masculinity is violently, viciously toxic, curdled. For whom masculinity has been used to hurt them at least as much as they have hurt others. We take them in, and we forcibly transition them to being women.”

“I, what? That can’t work! They would be broken husks! Dysphoria! Dissociation! Depression! They would be clawing at their skin!”

“We are cautious in whom we select, and who we take in. I was one of them. Sort of. I had thought this place a place that helped trans women in bad situations, with unsupportive families, transition, and I got myself kidnapped. I was quite, quite wrong, of course. But. I stayed, they helped me transition, despite me having lied about who I was. And I learned that what they, what we, do works.“

“I, this is monstrous!” He said.

“And… we’ve already started on them.”

“What? You’re already torturing them?” He shouted trying to make sense of how this could be happening, what had he agreed to was so much worse than he could’ve imagined.

“Not torture, but before they first wake up in their cells, we give them a goserelin implant in their belly… and before you can meet them, you have to have one too lest they notice the difference.”

“Wait, you want to give me an anti-androgen implant?”

“Yup! I have the injection kit right here.” She said, patting the bundle.

“You… injected them without consent? Why wait for me?” He said, sounding confused.

“Because you are a trans girl and to the best extent we can, we will respect your consent… you do actually have three choices here. One, accept the implant, I’ve read your journals, I know you want this, but, there are two other options. I have an implant here that will mimic the look of the goserelin but is just saline, but eventually that will be hard as you won’t be changing with them. The third is to wash out.”

He sat down on the bed and took a deep breath, “No doctors? No waiting list? No blood work?”

“Informed consent! It’s the best!” Stephanie said smiling, “We will be doing a blood draw right after, we have a lab run the panels anonymously. I’ve got the NHS pamphlet here as well if you would like to go over it and ask questions.”

“I uh, I’ve read it already…” he said, knowing how that sounded, who reads that without wanting or needing it?

“So, what will it be?”

“I…” He hesitated, couldn’t make up his mind. He knew he wanted it, but was it okay? And what about the others?

She must have seen it on his face, “it's okay you know, to want this, and the other things we will do for you, you know?”

“Is it? You say you are doing this to the others as well? But they didn’t consent! And I doubt they have journal entries that should’ve remained secret about wanting it.”

“Well, no, but like I said when we first met, our methods are sometimes less than polite. And believe me, in the long run, they will be better off as their new selves. My Sisters are living proof of it.”

“So there are more, like you?”

She laughs again, it's a gorgeous laugh, a laugh he feels intensely jealous of. He’s tried voice training and failed hard at it every time. “There’s only been a few like me so far, but there are so many of my Sisters who have gone through what the others you will be with will go through.”

“And who would do it? You?”

“I can do it, but if I’m being honest, it’s better if the nurse handles it, especially the blood draw…”

“Oh, uh, someone else would see me? Uh… naked… I assume…”

“I’ve also got some trousers and briefs here for you,” she said. She unlocked the door, came inside and placed them on the bed. “I’m afraid the green smock has to remain your top though for your introduction to the others.”

“Yeah, sure, okay…” he said, grabbing the briefs off the top of the pile and turning around, quickly pulling them up under his smock, and then the pants. “So is she here?”

The nurse came in to the room as if on cue, “hello! My name is Rabia, and I’m the on call nurse here, how are you doing?” She asked, smiling.

“I, as well as I can be anyway…”

“That’s good, I just need to hear you say that you consent to being injected with goserelin, and that you understand its effects.” Rabia said, sounding serious.

“I uh, actually have one question…”

“Sure, happy to answer if I can”

“Isn’t taking an anti-androgen alone bad? Like, the body needs some hormones…”

“Hrm, well, we could get you an estradiol shot sooner than normal, but you will be ahead of the curve from the boys… personally wouldn’t advise it. Sticking out any more than needed will be difficult for you, and in the short term it’s okay, it will only be a matter of weeks before we start the estradiol.” Rabia said.

“Oh, sure, hadn’t thought of that, wouldn’t want breasts sooner than them…” he said, laughing nervously.

Stephanie added quickly, “we also put you and the others on a lower calorie diet, the combo and timing we find results in better fat redistribution.”

“Oh, huh, I could see that,” James said quietly, feeling a blush start.

“So do you consent?” Rabia asked, looking neutral about whether he said yes or no.

“Yes, I consent.”

“Good! Just lie back in the bed and lift your smock, only needs to go a couple of inches over your belly button, okay?” She said with seemingly genuine care for him. Funny, someone involved in the forcible transition of others could actually care about anyone he thought. He nodded quietly and laid down and pulled the itchy green smock up the requested amount, and she got out the kit and various things. She put on a fresh pair of gloves from a small box, opened an antiseptic wipe, and quickly wiped down the area. “Now then… I need you to stay very still and if you don’t like needles, close your eyes, this thing makes most of the boys and girls nervous,” he nodded again, and closed his eyes shut. He vaguely had an idea of how big it had to be given what he had read, and he didn’t like the idea much either.

“Okay, you will feel a pinch, and the implant is going to itch, especially with that smock, but absolutely do NOT scratch it. Okay?” Rabia said, and he nodded vigorously yes and held a thumb up. “Okay, here goes!” He winced as it went in, slight pinch was a bit of an understatement, he thought. He opened his eyes and picked his head up a bit to see her tape a bit of gauze over the injection site, then she sat an ice pack on top of it. “Hold that there for a bit, okay? Will help keep the swelling down a bit.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said, taking hold of the ice pack with his right hand, and slowly started rotating up.

“Okay, have you done blood draws before?”

“Uh, yeah, a couple of times.”

“How well do you handle it?”

“Honestly? Fine, it’s a bit surreal to watch.”

Rabia laughed, “so many of us do not handle it well, glad to hear. It’s going to take several vials, okay? But not enough to leave you weak or anything.”

“Yeah, sure, okay.”

She proceeded to instruct him through doing a draw from his left arm, hold our arm, make a fist, tie off thing, insert needle, fill vials, etc. He thought it was weird, he knew they needed baseline levels for his hormones, but he never expected to be at this stage! And with anti-androgens already seeping in to his veins. What a world. When Rabia had her vials on her tray, all labeled, she stood up, picking up the tray, “All done Sophia, good luck in there, and if you ever need me, just ask Stephanie or another sponsor, and I’ll be here as soon as I can. Just note, I also work shifts, so I might not be able to come immediately.”

He nodded, “thank you, Rabia? Was it?”

“Yup, you’re welcome, I’ll see you later Steph?” She asked, turning to Stephanie.

“Yup! Later Rabia!” And with that, Rabia left the cell, leaving Stephanie and James alone again. James sat there silently, lost in thought.

“How are you doing?” Stephanie asked, calmly sitting next to him on the bed.

“Conflicted… and… wondering what all will they go through?”

“Well. It starts with the implant you now have as well, and then eventually they get given estrogen injections… and finally… we give them an orchiectomy.”

“Jesus, you… you perform surgery on unwilling people?” James said, sounding horrified. Feeling sick. “What are my options again?”

“Continue to commit or run, but you won’t run far, we would just stuff you away where you can’t hurt us. Further, we’ve found that since I, and those who’ve come after me, came in to the mix, the orchi’s are far less of a problem than they once were. The ratio of the willing at the time has increased dramatically” then she added almost to herself “Although the mugs are still around…”

“Right… yeah, okay… will, uh, will they know about me?”

“Who?”

“The others, the other, uh, boys.”

“Not that you are trans, no, and for the moment I would advise you to not reveal it to them. There are some… rather nasty people in your group, I’m not going to lie, and it would be best if they didn’t realize who you are until they are further along in the process.”

“So I, uh, have to pretend to be a boy, being forced to do these things because I’m… a bad… boy…”

“Yup, that's the deal. It won’t be easy, I should know. But we will be here for you every step of the way, and you will get through it, and so will they.”

“I uh, wow…” and he laid back on the cot.

She came over and sat at the other end of the bed. “It’s going to be okay, you will get the care you need, you just need to help us a bit with getting these boys to go along with things. You don’t even have to do anything other than just be accepting of what we are doing to you as a role model for them, and know that we are ultimately helping them.”

“So uh, if I’m one of the bad boys, do I uh, have a cover story? I’m sure they will want to know what I did that was so bad as to land me here…”

Stephanie laughs, “if only I had thought of that back four years ago, yes, you have one.”

“So… what did I do?”

“Well… and you don’t have to, I didn’t, and it worked out, or we can come up with a different one. We were thinking maybe since you were in telemarketing… you were stealing personal info, mostly from women, for looting accounts. Just because you could.” He nodded along as she continued, “A variation is to play it off like a false accusation, wrongfully imprisoned by us horrible feminists, perhaps even a frame up. However, I know these boys, or boys like them, they absolutely will not believe that because they would do it in a heartbeat. But if that would work better for you personally, it’s an option. Just be warned, it results in a slightly different path forward.“

He surprised himself by laughing, and he couldn’t stop until he was wheezing and gasping for breath. She sat there grinning and waiting patiently for him to catch his breath and his thoughts. When he finally got himself collected, “I’m sorry, I don't understand why I find that idea so funny. In truth, it would’ve been straightforward, and I knew people who did it, we had so much info and there was almost no oversight.”

“But you didn’t?”

“No, I mean, what would I do with it? And people's personally identifiable information is worth protecting, I even reported the one person I could confirm was doing it. Not that the company did anything because he was a top seller… might have contributed to me being fired, honestly.” He paused and frowned, “there's more I need to know though… about how things work…”

“Such as?”

“I’m sure the others didn’t get this kind of introduction.”

She grinned, “Yeah, definitely not, they know about the implant, but they won't know about the injections or orchi until later, and initially, we call the estradiol a ‘vitamin’ shot. Okay. So. The standard intro is that a sponsor softens you up, keeps you in one of these cells for a few days, taunts you a bit. Then we come and give this big mean awful speech that's meant to remind you of how toxic masculinity is, how horrible you are, how you’ve hurt people. Taunt you with your crimes, whatever, it's awful to go through as a trans person, though. It left me so incredibly dysphoric that I shut down, and Pippa stopped it early because she realized it was having the opposite effect on me.”

“Yeah… that doesn’t sound fun… and then?”

“The next day, we take them in to the main part of the facility, and introduce them to any others already there. Let them get a glimpse in to their future. We bring them back to their cell to stew. The next day we give them a choice, stay, or wash out.”

“Wash out, that's what you threatened me with, right? If I lose my nerve for what you are doing to them?”

“Ehh, yeah, it wouldn’t be the same for you as it is for them, though. Probably. Anyway…” Stephanie said, fiddling with her hands as she sat next to him. “If they choose to stay, we take them to their room, don’t worry, they are nicer than this…”

He interrupted her with laughing again, “Sorry, it's just, it would have to be absolutely terrible to be worse.”

She grinned, “They still aren’t exactly luxury, shared washing facilities for one, then it's just kind of… boring? For a while? We give you actual clothes, various toiletries to clean up with, etc.” They sat there talking for a couple of hours, she went through the whole process in a fair bit of detail. The medical examinations, the estradiol shots, the orchi which still upset him. How first years moved up when they became second years and on to the third year, the facial feminization surgeries. They discussed things like names and pronouns as well, James insisted he would rather not be Sophia right away because he firmly stated he needed to stay in character initially. She warned him the other sponsors might not adhere to it.

She eventually left him to get both of them some lunch, promising him one more day to relax, and think about his character. The rest of the day was, in fact, boring, although she came in the afternoon and brought a tablet to watch a movie on. She put on Easy A, which turned out to be a lot more hilarious than he expected, and oddly, weirdly relevant to his coming trial. After dinner, she left him alone and reminded him that in the morning he had just been attacked for all he’s done, and that he would be meeting the boys, to be scared or angry but not completely fragile.

He ate his dinner and sat there in contemplation, she had offered to leave the tablet, but he said that was okay, he needed to not get too used to that kind of thing just yet. As the lights dimmed, he lay down. What the hell had he agreed to? He thought. To willingly participate in the boy's forced feminization? Maybe he could find a way around it, possibly he could save some or all of them. They didn’t want this, there had to be some other way.