pain. They were also revoltingly ugly—certainly by design. The least of my problems, without doubt, but it still bothered me more than the other indignities. Those, I could try to forget. This thing would be a reminder for the rest of my life.
At last I was apparently ready to be taken to a cell. In a small, bare room with nothing but a table and metal chair, the guards allowed me to dress and gave me a pair of thin shoes that would probably fall apart if they got wet, a pack of basic toiletries, and no other personal possessions of any kind. They provided food and water and gave me ten minutes to eat and drink. Then they removed the tray, though I wasn’t quite done. They told me to use the washroom off to the side to relieve myself and clean my teeth. And then they finally took me to my new home. The guards tossed me into a cell without a word and left me to get on with it.
I’d never been in a prison. I didn’t watch dramasims set in them, and the media was not allowed inside to report on them. I was completely unprepared for the reality—a tiny barred cell with bunk beds, a sink, a toilet, and what looked like hundreds of pictures of naked women on the walls.
And one very large male occupant.
“So you’re the fresh meat.”
The voice rasped, deep and menacing. Damaged vocal chords, I noted absently as I moved back against a wall, my head against an image of a woman’s implausible breast. The voice’s owner stood up and walked over to loom in front of me.
“Uh...hi.”
I was tall but this guy was taller than me by at least half a head and three times as broad, muscles bulging out of the thin material of his overalls. The shaven head and broken nose made him look feral. I forced myself to remember I probably looked as threatening.
“I’m Jodi.”
“What’cha in fer, Jodi?”
He moved closer. I tried not to cringe as he bared a mouth full of broken teeth at me. I doubted it was a smile.
“Er...” I held up my newly tattooed hands. “Para.”
“S’at right?” He leaned a hand on the wall beside my head. “I’m Ganwe.”
“H-hi—”
“Shhh.” He ran his thick fingers down my face, and I shivered. “Now, Jodi. ‘S few things you gotta get clear from the start, ‘kay?”
“L-like what?” I couldn’t help it. I started to shake, hugging myself. He was so huge and right in my face. If I moved, he could swat me like a crippled bug.
“Like, this is my cell. I’m the boss. And you belong to me. Got it? Paid good for you. You’re mine.”
“Paid? Why?”
He did that teeth baring thing again that did so little to reassure me. “Last one didn’t last too long. Didn’t understand the rules. My rules. You gonna understand them better, or am I gonna have to get rid of you the way I did him?”
“I—”
“Before you answer, you better know that he ain’t doing too good now. He got kinda all broken.”
“Please...don’t hurt me.”
“I ain’t gonna hurt you, Jodi.” His voice now a parody of a sultry whisper. “‘Less you don’t follow the rules. Tell me the rules like you heard ‘em.”
I swallowed, trying to think through the drug and the terror. “Y-your cell. You’re the boss. I belong to you.”
He patted my cheek. “That’s good. That’s real good. You’re smart, ain’t ya. Talk kinda fancy. Are you smart?”
“I...uh...am...was...a doctor.”
He raised his eyebrows. “For real? Not much use to me. Don’t let paras be doctors, do they?”
“No.”
He rubbed his hand on my chest. I very much wanted him to stop. I couldn’t tell him to.
“So, what you are to me is a pretty boy with an arm full of the good stuff. Don’t use myself, but I got friends who like it.”
What was he talking about? The naksen was no use to him or anyone else. Was this his idea of conversation?
He suddenly gripped my jaw agonisingly hard. “Right. Enough talking.”
He made a movement too swift for me to follow, and something sharp poked me in the gut.
“This
At last I was apparently ready to be taken to a cell. In a small, bare room with nothing but a table and metal chair, the guards allowed me to dress and gave me a pair of thin shoes that would probably fall apart if they got wet, a pack of basic toiletries, and no other personal possessions of any kind. They provided food and water and gave me ten minutes to eat and drink. Then they removed the tray, though I wasn’t quite done. They told me to use the washroom off to the side to relieve myself and clean my teeth. And then they finally took me to my new home. The guards tossed me into a cell without a word and left me to get on with it.
I’d never been in a prison. I didn’t watch dramasims set in them, and the media was not allowed inside to report on them. I was completely unprepared for the reality—a tiny barred cell with bunk beds, a sink, a toilet, and what looked like hundreds of pictures of naked women on the walls.
And one very large male occupant.
“So you’re the fresh meat.”
The voice rasped, deep and menacing. Damaged vocal chords, I noted absently as I moved back against a wall, my head against an image of a woman’s implausible breast. The voice’s owner stood up and walked over to loom in front of me.
“Uh...hi.”
I was tall but this guy was taller than me by at least half a head and three times as broad, muscles bulging out of the thin material of his overalls. The shaven head and broken nose made him look feral. I forced myself to remember I probably looked as threatening.
“I’m Jodi.”
“What’cha in fer, Jodi?”
He moved closer. I tried not to cringe as he bared a mouth full of broken teeth at me. I doubted it was a smile.
“Er...” I held up my newly tattooed hands. “Para.”
“S’at right?” He leaned a hand on the wall beside my head. “I’m Ganwe.”
“H-hi—”
“Shhh.” He ran his thick fingers down my face, and I shivered. “Now, Jodi. ‘S few things you gotta get clear from the start, ‘kay?”
“L-like what?” I couldn’t help it. I started to shake, hugging myself. He was so huge and right in my face. If I moved, he could swat me like a crippled bug.
“Like, this is my cell. I’m the boss. And you belong to me. Got it? Paid good for you. You’re mine.”
“Paid? Why?”
He did that teeth baring thing again that did so little to reassure me. “Last one didn’t last too long. Didn’t understand the rules. My rules. You gonna understand them better, or am I gonna have to get rid of you the way I did him?”
“I—”
“Before you answer, you better know that he ain’t doing too good now. He got kinda all broken.”
“Please...don’t hurt me.”
“I ain’t gonna hurt you, Jodi.” His voice now a parody of a sultry whisper. “‘Less you don’t follow the rules. Tell me the rules like you heard ‘em.”
I swallowed, trying to think through the drug and the terror. “Y-your cell. You’re the boss. I belong to you.”
He patted my cheek. “That’s good. That’s real good. You’re smart, ain’t ya. Talk kinda fancy. Are you smart?”
“I...uh...am...was...a doctor.”
He raised his eyebrows. “For real? Not much use to me. Don’t let paras be doctors, do they?”
“No.”
He rubbed his hand on my chest. I very much wanted him to stop. I couldn’t tell him to.
“So, what you are to me is a pretty boy with an arm full of the good stuff. Don’t use myself, but I got friends who like it.”
What was he talking about? The naksen was no use to him or anyone else. Was this his idea of conversation?
He suddenly gripped my jaw agonisingly hard. “Right. Enough talking.”
He made a movement too swift for me to follow, and something sharp poked me in the gut.
“This
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