Uniform (Party One)

The Scottish countryside zoomed past the couch window; also zooming past the car window was a variety of cars, tractors and trucks, which meant that Hector Arbarte couldn't really even look at the zooming countryside anyway. He sighed, and fidgeted where he sat, attempting to get himself into a more conformable position. If there was one thing Hector didn't like, it was staying still. To call it a couch was slightly inaccurate, because most couches didn't have bars on the window. Around him, other people his own age sat listlessly in their seats too tried after three hours of driving to make trouble.
On the radio, the Minister of Education was been interviewed on the one last remaining BBC Radio Channel, idiotically called the "Beebio" as there wasn't any point in numbers when there was only one. He didn't know if it was the long car journey or the Minister of Education that was making him feel sick.
"Minister, your governments support for the St. Lycurgus' National Service School has been somewhat controversial despite the academic success of students there. The Shadow Minister for Education has compared St. Lycurgus' to a Hitler Youth Camp, and attacked the idea of National Service Schools as 'modern Workhouses for the modern lower classes'. How do you react to this criticism?"
Oh I'm sure he’ll change his mind, Hector thought darkly, just like all the politicians do when they realise there's promoting bullshit. Oozing with the confidence of the Privately educated career politician, the Minster answered.
"Absolutely ridiculous Kris. Look, we all know that St. Lycurgus' is strict, and we all know National Service Schools are a last resort. Under past governments, Labour and Coalition alike, we have let our young people get out of control. Every year we've had students rioting, occupations, teacher strikes, mass walk outs, class rooms in chaos and anarchy on the streets. We've even seen students bombing there own classrooms. Ever since 2011, we've been seeing street violence occurring again and again whenever the Police are overextended. Young people were learning nothing from their time in Higher Education and ended up unemployed almost immediately after leaving. We've gone from being one of the world's best-educated countries to the worst. Why is this? Is it just to do with Cuts? (Which are necessary). No, it's because we in this country have lost the ability to discipline the younger generations. Frankly, it tells us everything we need to know about the Green Party had they should do nothing but complain when finally we have a school that's working."
"But you surely you recognise that the decision to send student demonstrators to what is essentially a mandatory reeducation center alone with common criminals would attract criticism? You know the National Union of Students are calling them political prisoners?"
Hector groaned. The last thing he'd been expecting when he'd agreed to go on a March Against the NATO Bombing of Greece was to be sent off to some Fascistic government project with a bunch of muggers and truants. He'd expected arrest and Police Brutality, of course, but not this! He looked over sadly at his fellow martyrs. He only knew a few of them well anyway. Most of the other Brighton students had got away and were probably offering petitions to have him freed outside the college gate, or more likely smoking pot and completely forgetting him. Most of the students here were from London, or not students are all. Holly was here, but they'd put here at the other end. She was sleeping, and he was sure no one would be forgetting her back home.
"Utter nonsense! You call them demonstrators, but they were all arrested and charged for crimes they committed during the riots, not for demonstrating. To call them political prisoners is just rubbish. They need to be rehabilitated just as much as anyone else who breaks the law does. And judging from the results so far, it's working. St. Lycurgus' is an experiment, of course. We wouldn't have dreamed of introducing something as radical as National Service Education unless we knew it worked. However, I believe I can say with confidence that it's now a very real possibility that in future we will see more National Service Schools all over the country."
"Can we turn it off now?" Hector shouted at the top of his lungs, unnecessarily. It was the least he could do to make a fuss. He was bored and a victim of state oppression to boot.
"Shut your mouth!" replied the driver "I already told you. You don't say nuthin to me!"
"WHY?" bellowed Hector, hoping his heroics would inspire his lethargic fellows. He looked around to see if Holly was looking, and saw her rub her eyes and yawn.
"You don't know nuthin mate" said the driver "You lot don't scare me. I've had real criminals in the back threatening to do all sorts of stuff you posh students don't nuthin 'bout, and even they act good as gold once them at St. Lycurgies get to 'em. 'Oh thank you driver' they say to me when I see 'em again 'we don't want to bother you driver. Please accept our apologies, driver.' So, why don't you just shut it!"
"-and that's why Labour Parties and the Conservative Parties partnership in government is as strong as ever and any rumours of the Coalition splitting up over Income Tax is utter nonsense" continued the Minister for Education, oblivious to the one-boy unrest Hector had been stirring up. If only I was more like Che Guevara, thought Hector glumly, he never have any any trouble stirring up unrest.
"Forget it Hector" said Holly from the other end of the couch, weariness in her voice "He isn't worth the effort." Oh Holly, always so bloody nice. She could make anything into a compliment, even if she was telling you to shut up. He would be sitting next to her, but he was strapped down in his seat and until the Privately employed Guards sitting in the front with the driver unlocked him he wasn't going anywhere.
"Yeah" said a London biology student who'd stolen a TV during the riot as if it were possible to hide that kind of thing from the police "Trying to get some sleep.".
"Hump!" said Hector, scowling. He stopped he harassment of the driver, and turned back to the countryside/mass of moving metal outside. This was all unbelievable. He was actually been sent to some freakish super-strict school where everybody had to wear uniforms and march around in line just for protesting. It was unfair, because his brother and sister had never been sent anywhere when they rioted back in the 00's. It was scary, because no one really knew what St. Lycurgus was really like. Sure, there were promotional videos of it on the schools website and Politicians would visit it on the News. But all that showed was students beaming at the camera and looking like clones in their uniforms and identical haircuts. Apart from that, and that was freaky enough for any teenager who loved their witty T-Shirts and odd hair styles, nobody really knew anything about it. It had a policy of all-year round and compulsory broading, and the Press was refused access to students without supervision from teachers or too film classes. No one knew anything much about the 'methods' employed to subdue the unruly students imprisoned there, apart from the occasional Pro-government article in the paper waffling on about 'cutting edge methods informed by the latest developments in behavioural psychology' and 'a ethic of fairness and discipline.' As it was for 'criminals' (only for the moment, mind, 'National Service' implied that the model was designed to be universally instituted) no one was allowed to leave until they finished their "term". Even though it was called a 'School', all students inside around the age of Six-Form College and University Students, and someone had told Hector that you weren't allowed out of National Service Education until you were twenty two. Hector was eighteen, and that meant he would be in there for four years. The thought was utterly terrifying. It wasn't for nothing distraught parents were calling it a prison.
There was something weird about the uniforms, he thought as a thousand high-speed faces glanced up with unreadable expressions at him. They weren't like the silly things that most schools in England had made kids in Primary School; there was something very stylised and even suggestive about them. The female ones looked as if they were from a Japanese Fan-Service Manga, and the male ones just looked fascist. They clung to the body tightly, and seemed to somehow define the person wearing them. The students moved oddly in them, and there expressions seemed to have a kind of semi-aroused glaze to them. The female ones seemed oddly revealing for a supposedly strict school, and the male ones seemed to project aggression. That and the matching hairstyles he'd seen on the videos made the students of St. Lycurgus' look as if they were half-citizens of a dystopian dictatorship, half-fashion models preening themselves on the catwalk.
Soon, the couch turned away from the busy motorway into a seemingly empty road leading up into the hills. Somewhere around the top of the second hill, the Couch entered a thick forest. The sky partially vanished behind the dark green roof of countless tree branches, and Hector felt as if this would be the last time he would ever see the sun as free individual. He didn't know why he felt like that, but in his gut he was afraid of what four years of National Service Education would do to him. Four years was a long time. He'd changed from a child into who he was now in four years. What would he be like after four years of uniforms, identical haircuts and 'cutting edge behavioral psychology' change him into? Four years without seeing his family, sleeping in his own room and reading his own books? What would happen to Holly? Bright, clever Holly who planned all the meetings and organised the Marches. Holly who'd never been scared of any authority. What would happen to her after four years?

If anything, that boy drastically underestimated what was about to happen to him when he looked out and saw the sun disappear behind the leaves.

* * *

St. Lycurgus' National Service School for Young Adults was huge. Holly reckoned that a least a few million pounds worth of funding had been used to just build the perimeter defences. Defences wasn't really the word for them, as they weren't there to protect the inhabitants within from the outside but to keep the inhabitants from ever seeing the outside. She glanced around quickly, taking in all the details just like she did when she was studying. She might not have read as much books and remembered as much musty leftist quotations as Hector, but she was observant and that gave her an edge over the book worm where it mattered. He was probably moping and feeling sorry for himself. First, she noticed the Guards. Same uniform as the ones sitting up front, must be from the same company. There military bearing told her they weren't mere 'security' guards either. That means the Arms Industries probably involved here, and mercenaries aren't easy to come by in Europe even after the collapse. That means Americans. She smiled, American Corporations trying to buy up and control Britain's education system. Tell that to the Press and the Government would be going down. The walls were thick and covered in barbed wire. Clique, but quite a barrier to escaping. This told her that whatever went on in here it was one 1) terrible enough that students needed barb wire to keep them inside 2) not for the general public to see. This was even worse than American Corporations, most of whom only wanted to stick McDonalds Logos on School Computers anyway. It was also brilliant propaganda against the governments policy. She knew that this meant A) she would have to escape or B) she would have to wait it out and make sure by the time four years was up she still had the gumption to expose the goings on here or C) get a message to someone on the outside, who would duly send copies of it to the Guardian, BBC, Daily Mail and Green Party HQ. That or wait until something else exposed it. She settled on C.
The possibility that she would be the slightest bit changed after four years did cross her mind, but was so surrounded by so many other far more interesting thoughts she did not dwell on it far as long as she should have. Most of them focused on how the campaign for her own realise would shape up. She was President of a Student Union cell and had a seat in the Youth Parliament (not that anyone cared about that) and head of countless other campaigns and groups, after all. She wasn't some vandalist or shop lifter sent off to learn citizenship from the wonder wizards of National Service Education, she was a political prisoner and only seventeen years old. She had over a two thousand Friends on Facebook. She was headline material.
The general colour scheme was white. Shinning, clinical white you'd expect in a Hospital. As the gates rumbled open to let the couch, Holly noted the number and shape of the buildings. Almost all of them had the same glaring white apart from a charming Mansion sitting in the center of the complex. There was about ten different buildings, all the seize of football stadiums and linked together by kris-crossing glass walk ways. In the shadow of the central Mansion, a regimented group of female students marched about perfectly in step as a older girl in a elaborate uniform snapped orders at them.
Too young to be a teacher, the girl seemed to be some kind of head-girl or class rep. Holly raised her eyes at her appearance. While the other girls were dressed in short tartan skirts that bounced up and down as they moved, crisp white shirts that closely clung to the shape of their bodies and smart black ties hanging down like discarded dog leads, the head-girl was dressed in what appeared to be a parody of a military uniform. None of them seemed to be wearing bras underneath. While the other girls wore only blue and white, she was dressed all in black and with gold buttons, and a ornamental braided cord hanging from her military like shoulder pads. Holly could hardly believe her eyes when she saw that the head girls waist was exposed and her collar was cut down almost to her cleavage, and that she wore nothing around her thighs but a tightly hugging black mini-skirt bound unnecessarily tight by a black belt. A black armband on her shoulder bore a symbol Holly couldn't make out.
"Cor, look at the tits on them!" remarked the oaf seated next to her. She didn't know him, and was glad she didn't. But she did concede (inwardly) that the girls parading about like North Koreans were all rather attractive, in a huge breasts large ass little waist kind of way, which she knew from experience was the furthest extent of most boys’ idea of feminine beauty. However, even she had to recognise the head-girl had a strange kind of magnificence to her, she seemed to project authority and her body seemed so naturally shaped and perfect even Holly could see the attraction of her. All this while the couch had been drawing closer to the field were this parade of tits and ass was taking place. The Head-Girl snapped a few more orders, and the girls wheeled about to face the approaching couch and stop stock still with bright smiles covering their faces, beaming their welcome to the newcomers. Holly shook her head in disbelief as the Guards began to unlock the bonds that held the new students of St. Lycurgus' National Service School for Young Adults into their seats.
She hadn't been expected this.

* * *

Hector gawked in disbelief at that girls lined up in front of him as he was escorted off of the couch, the Driver giving him a malicious wink as he stepped off. He never seen so many girls with big tits in one place before. In fact, he'd only seen about three girls with tits this big before in his entire life, and he'd fancied everyone of them to the point of madness. This was not what he'd been expecting, he'd been expecting a prison camp. Well, technically it was still a prison camp, but these didn't look like prison camp people. He'd been expecting barely reformed petty criminals cowed into submission by a regime of violence, glowering at him. That's what they must have been once, he thought, someone would have noticed the government dragging off a load of cute and shapely girls and putting them here. He was hard as a oak tree, and didn't want Holly to see it. It would be like the time she saw him reading Ecchi Manga, only much worse.
The girl dressed up like a crossover between a World War Two General and a Prostitute approached the group of shocked students. She had a cruel smile on her face, and Hector noticed she carried a riding whip in her right hand. Her blonde hair was bound into a single ponytail that hung down to her waist. The other girls, smiling like maniacs behind her, all had there hair bound into ponytails too, but unlike the Prostitute-General they all had two. It was eerie to look at them, all so similar as to be almost identical. The uniforms were, he hated to admit, bloody cute. The Prostitute-Generals armband bore a stylised red "V" on a black black-ground, and Hector noticed that a similar red "V" was pinned to every girls right breast.
Whatever does that mean? Hector wondered, almost speaking aloud.
The Prostitute-General addressed the assembled rioters, her voice imperious and full of scorn.
"Welcome to St. Lycurgus'. I am Group-Leader Victoria of House Cypris. I am here to take you before the Head-Mistress so she can welcome to our institution" her mouth raised up in sneer "I'm also here to tell you on behalf of the Student Council that while our teachers here are merciful and kind to those who are disobedient, we students do not tolerate bad behaviour. Remember that, before you try to escape or speak back to a superior when not spoken too, because while the Masters and Mistresses will nod and smile, we will hate for every insult you heap above our beloved School and to the Noble Houses."
Hector, who'd been planning at acting up some time soon after he got off the couch, stared in disbelief at Victoria. This was all wrong. These students were supposed to be rehabilitated, yes, but they weren't supposed to be control freaks dedicated to enforcing school rules. This school was supposed to be full of, according to the Media, semi-feral youths, habitual offenders, looters and anti-Social offenders. And what was that she said about Masters and Mistresses-
"Here love!" shouted out one of the London students, who'd never understood what the March was about in the first place "Gives us a feel!"
Victoria looked at him with contempt, and whacked him across the face with the riding whip. "These are for good boys!" she spat. As he jerked back in shock, Hector saw's Holly's eyes widen. Victoria noticed as well.
"That right dear" Victoria smiled "We Group-Leaders have the authority to administer Corporal Punishment! Not that we need to do it often after the Masters and Mistresses deal with you. Don't think about telling anyone about it though, we wouldn't have let the government dump a load of posh student radicals on us if we didn't know we'd be able to keep you quiet, indefinitely. Trust me, Holly Barkwood, your campaigning days are over. Now-" she turned to the rest of the group "shut up and follow me into the main hall."
Hector took the opportunity to fall in beside Holly. She grabbed his hand and squeezed tightly, looking long and hard at him. He'd never seen her this frightened, the confrontation with Victoria had clearly shaken whatever confidence she had left after arriving in this place. She leaned in close when Victoria wasn't look and whispered "We have to stick together."
Hector nodded, it was the only way to stay sane. This place was obviously crazy and if they were to come out of it without going nuts they needed to stay together. Holly knew the London student leaders only through Facebook and the others not at all, Hector was the only real friend Holly had here.
Masters and Mistresses? What had Victoria meant by that? He leaned over to Holly and began to ask in hushed tones "What-?"

* * *

Holly flinched as Victoria grabbed Hector and pulled him away from her, the boys face full of shock and horror as Victoria manhandled him to the back of the line, displaying the same surprising strength as when he slashed the heckler in the face. He'd been about to say something to her, he was the only person she knew here what was she doing why-
"-What are you doing?!" Holly wailed, stunned at her own hysterical response.
"We at St. Lycurgus' believe that once you enter the National Service, you start your life again. We can't have you falling back on your old ways, otherwise you'll never learn" Victoria smiled at her, her lips full and red, her face made up like a doll. A voluptuously curved body dressed in mock-military attire, she was regal and terrible. Her eyes glowed with a fanaticism that seemed to burn into Holly, cowing her in a way she'd never been before. Holly simply couldn't understand her, what was this girl? How could someone like this exist? What could make one of the troublesome teenage girls the government had been almost randomly assigning to this School into this?
The other girls still smiling but with the same blind fanaticism in their expressions, moved in among the students, gently separating friends and breaking up groups. Holly wanted to shout at them. Why are you doing this to us? Why do you want to help them? The ones who imprisoned you, took you away from your homes, families and friends? The ones who beat you and force you to dress and act a certain way? Why are you helping authority? You should hate it!
She just stood open mouthed. Most of the boys seem too distracted by the girls rubbing their curves up against them to resist. Another girl from the demonstration Holly didn't know the name of slapped one of the doll-like girls when she pushed her boyfriend away from her. Victoria was there in an instant. The girl burst into tears as the Group-Leader knocked her to the floor and lashed her sharply on both cheeks. The other girls suddenly became forceful, two of them forcing the boyfriend down unto the floor when he cried out and tired to protect his girl.
"Are you done resisting yet?" Victoria's voice had real hatred in it when she said the word 'resisting' "Because the Head-Mistress is waiting, and to displease Her is the worst of failures."
"Okay!" Holly shouted, knowing that she had no choice unless she wanted more people hurt "We'll come quietly, just leave her alone!" Victoria turned away from the weeping girl, and looked at Holly with a strange smile.
"Still think your a leader?" Victoria leered. "See how the Masters and Mistresses will deal with that."
She turned away sharply and gestured them to follow. The other girls, giggling and whispering about 'bad girls', followed behind, gently but forcefully propelling the prisoners along.

* * *

The Head-Mistress was a stunning sight, and Hector suppressed the urge to gasp. The Head-Mistress had the same voluptuous hour glass figure and firm, rounded breasts as Victoria and the other girls did, the same heavily made up face and full lips. But despite being far-older, she made them seem plain. For a start, she had a face of rare smoothness and beauty that few women or girls can ever dream to posses. Hector blinked. Was that really makeup? It was almost as if her cheeks were red of their own accord, as were her lips. She was dressed like a Queen, in bright colours and shinning jewellery adorned her neck and arms. Her scarlet red dress was cut low over her her full breasts, and between them sat a necklace with a ruby 'V' embordened on it. Her eyes were the most remarkable thing though. They seemed to glow bright blue, penetrating into your very soul. She was hot, Hector had to admit, despite having every logical reason to hate her as a authority figure who wanted to lock him away for four years.
"Ah, here come the little darlings!" she cooed in a soft, overly-feminine voice, welcoming them with a thin smile. "It's so nice to see new faces. You must feel terrible after that arwful journey from London, and I'm sure Victoria has been overzealous again, you must forgive her she's not used to dealing with such high class students. You must accept my deepest apologies my dears. We'll all do our best to make up for bad first impressions. A few weeks and you'll all have forgotten everything and will be as happy as bunnies, I assure you."
Yep, hot but patronising. The contrast between her and Victoria couldn't be stronger. Yet there was something disarming about her motherly manner, something that reminded Hector of being much younger. Part of him wanted to bury himself in her breasts and let her kiss him better, let her stroke his head and tell him what a good good boy he was and make all the troubles of the world disappear-
Hector shock his head. What the fuck am I thinking?!
"Now, you may all be a little grumpy that you didn't have any choice in whether or not you wanted to come here. But we don't care about what little spoilt brats think when they arrive, because we have ways of making them stop thinking thoughts they shouldn't, we care about the good little boys and girls you'll be when you trot out of here without a disobedient thought in your sweet little heads. Now, here at St. Lycurgus we believe in treating everything the same. I'm sure you'll all fit in perfectly and forget everything about that silly outside world and all your silly habits and opinions. You see, here at St. Lycurgus we understand young people. We understand them much better than they understand themselves. For example" the Head-Mistress pointed a long, elegant finger at one of the London girls, a punk with excessive amounts of piercings and dyed green hair, whose eyes fluttered weakly and cheeks flushed under the imperious gaze of this regal matron "What makes a young person dress like that? A young person would say 'to express my personality' or 'because I like it'. But we know that's nonsense. Young people want to fit in, young people want to be part of a group, young people want to belong to something. They don't wan to be different, they want to be the same! The problem is that recently society has made itself too boring for young people to want to conform to it anymore." Hector, despite what he'd already seen of this place, still could not believe what he was hearing. But he felt somehow calmed by her words, soothed by them and wishing for more. Their was a quality about her voice that was addictive and charming, that pulled you in despite rational reservations and her eyes seemed to fill the world with glorious light. "Do you think there were Punks in the Ancient days of the first Celtic tribes and the Homeric Greeks? When people worshipped sex gods and exercised naked, when homosexuality was accepted and youthful violence was part of life? No, then young people took joy in conforming to society, in submitting themselves to the authority of their betters. But society has made itself so dull, it began to frown on sex outside of marriage, it told young people to control themselves, rather than let themselves be controlled by the passions racing through their bodies. To be responsible, to think for themselves, to be mature. That's why they rebel. They want to be told to fuck and fight and dance, to worship chieftains, heroes and phallic icons. They want Gods and Goddesses to obey, not teachers and officials to tell them to deny themselves. Society denies them their pleasures. But we give it back to you, and make you part of something you can enjoy. We, your Masters and Mistresses, will make you back into what you are meant to be. Slaves to instinct...."
Hector found he was drooling onto the marble floor. He had fallen on his knees without realising it, enraptured by this vision of pure femininity before him. "...helplessly compelled to satisfy your desire to serve..." He'd never felt like this before, he tried to shake his head and think clearly, but all he could think about was her. She was at once a caring mother, a young girl eager for lovemaking, a stern goddess demanding worship and a teacher dispensing wisdom. He wanted to be noticed by her, to please her, to bury himself within her and vanish between those wondrous breasts... "...Utterly without personal responsibility, utterly without will power..." If she was saying things to him, he was only registering it on a subliminal level. "... Slaves now and forever..." All he heard was the wonderful music of her voice, without thinking about the meaning of her words. It was enough just to listen. He gave a moan of pure desire, and gave himself to the utter bliss her glorious, wise, sensual words awoke in him. He saw no one else, thought of no one else. Suddenly, she changed her tone and the words suddenly became clear again. He had no idea how long she'd been talking to them, only how wonderful it had felt to listen.
"But enough of the abstract theory. You'll learn more of it in your lessons and from your fellow students. More importantly I'll be telling you about how things are done here and where'll you'll all be going after I'm done with you. I'm afraid the Head-Master was having a meeting, otherwise he'd have been here to welcome you as well. Sorry girls, but you'll have to wait another time before setting your eyes upon Him Whom You Serve, and sorry boys too. We don't believe in the myth of heterosexuality here, after all. Everyone is bisexual by nature, as far as we care. But anyway, we run the school, as you've probably guessed, jointly and with absolute authority. However, we don't have the time to waste on managing all of you little darlings, so we have many helpers here. Firstly, there is the rest of the staff, the Masters and Mistresses you'll all come to know and love and pleasure with your young grateful bodies. They will teach you how to belong, to forget your troubled pasts and attempt that life here at St. Lycurgus is really the best thing you could ever wish for. They will teach you discipline mental and physical, and how to best please your fellow creatures. After all, aren't we all put on his earth to bring love and happiness to one another? Oh, but I such a romantic, I've digressed again. The students themselves are organised hierarchically, based on intelligence and loyalty, into different ranks. Victoria here is one of our best Group-Leaders, a member of the Fifth Rank, and you must obey her as if she were me myself. You will all start off in the Second Rank, but if you misbehave or prove stupid or need humbling, you will be reduced to the First Rank as a Punishment. You shall all be assigned to Houses, which will be your new families and friends. Don't expect to be put in the same House as any of your present companions, because you won't, for your own good of course. Each House has it's own style of dress and it's own signature haircut. Houses are all either all male, or all female. You'll only be able to enjoy sexual contact with members of the opposite sex as a reward for good behaviour. Don't despair though, as sex is always available from members of your own sex, whether you want to or not. I'm also delighted to tell you that St. Lycurgus isn't just a school for your mind, it's also a place to make your body more beautiful. We have made contracts with companies at the cutting edge of body improvement technology and medication, so you won't just get good grades here, but a nice new pair of bouncing titties to give you that little extra bit of confidence or a big new dick to show your friends. This is the people factory, I like to say, and we make you all the same. Happy, sexy and obedient."
"NO!" said Hector, shocking even himself. He pulled himself to his feet, wiping away the drool that had covered his face in his mindless rapture. Hector knew that there was something hypnotic about this place, about this woman. But he'd never been easy to hypnotise despite all the relaxation CD's and secessions his son had made him go to to boost his self-confidence and he'd never, ever wanted to fit in (at least, he thought he didn't, maybe he did, maybe she was right, maybe he should worship her and obey her and-). He had to stop this, he had to save everyone. If he knew one thing from all the books he'd read and the ideas he'd learned, it was that somebody had to save everybody from the person trying to take away freedom. Freedom was special. Everyone knew that, even politicians. Freedom was good, freedom was what people shouted in war movies and sang about in inspiration songs. He'd always believed, despite his physical weakness, his social problems, his loneliness and his uselessness with girls, that he would need to do something like this someday. "No!" he said again, trying to think of something else to say.
"Ah" said the Head-Mistress, her thin smile broadening into a wide grin exposing a mouth full of perfect white teeth and a wet, eagerly roaming tongue. "A strong one."

* * *

Holly forced herself to her feet, her face burning with shame. The others sat, empty eyed and open mouthed while Hector stood, with a look of uncertainty on his face, before the vision that was the Head-Mistress. Holly didn’t know what was making it so hard to think. It wasn’t just the voice or the eyes; there was a smell in the air, something thick and sweet diluting the room’s atmosphere. She resisted the urge to breath it in deeply, to savior it and let it reduce back to… back to that state… of mindless bliss. She hated this place, this hated how confused it made her feel.
She had no time to waste thinking though, Victoria, who been standing smiling vacantly while the Head-Mistress gave her enchanting speech, was moving towards Hector, bull whip raised. Holly threw herself at her from behind, grabbing her round the waist and forcing her to the group. Victoria was far stronger than Holly, and almost threw her off but she clung on and put all her wait down onto the slavers back. Yes, that's what these people were. That's what the government had been hiding. Slavers, slavers had infiltrated the British government, slavers had contacts with the Arms Industry, slavers were stealing away troublesome teenagers from their parents and friends and making them into living dolls, dressing them all alike and making them drill like robots and rut like animals. Slavers were beating her, dragging her off Victoria, hauling off Hector while the other new arrivals dribbled mindlessly at the scene. There was boys here now, dressed in black uniforms like Victoria was wearing, with strong arms and rounded shoulders, grunting as Holly hit at them. They handed her over to the Victoria's girls, who held her with surprising strength and began to drag her from the room, at the other end of the hall, she could she Hector being pulled away by the black uniformed boys. She had to stop this, but she didn't know how. The Head-Mistress was laughing and the other demonstrators, no, they weren't demonstrators any more, just teenaged chattel mindlessly gaping at the world around them with uncomprehending eyes thick with trance, were being herded into groups and lead out of the room. She tried to scream, but suddenly something smelled so sweet and thick she couldn't breathe or keep her eyes upon. All she could manage was a gurgle before she became unconscious.

To be continued......