Strangeflower Academy: A FtM Story, Part Nineteen

At first they didn't resist as they were led once more into the service elevator.

But then, as the goons began to bundle them into vans, some of the girls began to awaken from their torpor.

The fight that followed was short but intense. Olga, Patricia, all the others found themselves being tased and beaten without mercy. Despite their strength and athletic build, most of the girls were overcome with shock and exhaustion, and any will to fight in the situation was overcome by the goon's total lack of restraint.

For girls used to life in an exclusive, pampered all-girls academy, actual, unrestrained physical violence was shocking. The first time they were punched in the gut, even Olga folded, wheezing.

Thus, despite outnumbering the goons, the gym girls found themselves being pushed, pulled, dragged and thrown from one place to another. First they were in the elevator. Then a van. Then after a short while they were somewhere else on the island. They were hooded there, and driven again. Confused, uncertain. Not the school, not the campus, not the estate. Somewhere...else.

Wherever they were taken, they were dragged out again, and forcibly prodded down long, cold, dark stairs.

Finally, they were thrown into some sort of narrow, camped room. Their hoods were removed, and they found themselves staring at each other, the headmistress's thugs finishing tying them down.

It was not any part of the island they had ever imagined they'd see.

This was simply not what they had expected. And now as they were left to sit in silence by the grim-faced goons, they struggled to make sense of everything that had unfolded, and what to do next.

They must have all dozed off at some point, as when Patricia awoke next the girls were groaning, and light was streaming in thinly from above, somewhere. They were all tied together in some cramped space, crinkled ground-sheets thrown across hard concrete ground their only source of comfort, their hands bound with rope or cable-ties around thick piping.

Some of the other girls were still in shock, or struggling to process what had happened. They'd expected punishment, to be detained, to be thrown off the island. Yet they had not expected...this.

Impromptu captivity, kidnapping, and some strange chemicals floating through their bodies, courtesy of Patricia.

Olga was the most changed, looking more like a man than even Patricia herself. Their outfits were worn and ripped in places, and Olga's bare, muscular chest was more or less on display. She seemed embarassed about this, but Patricia simply smirked. No straight guy would ever go for this dumb muscle brute now, even if they all still had yet to sprout the final piece.

As more of them awoke, aware of their aches, pains, hunger, and confined situation, all eyes turned to her, to Patricia, a captive the same as them, but most visibly different in one key area.

Her panties barely concealed her new equipment, her proud weapon. Whatever her identity confusion, she refused to feel shame or embarrassment now about her male parts. Not in front of them.

"You like it, bitch?" Patrick sneered.
"Maybe when I get free of this, I'll give you a taste of it. Then again, its only a matter of time before it happens to you. Count on it."

Olga strained at her bindings, growling fiercely.

"What did you do! You absolute motherfucker-" she seethed with barely constrained fury.

"Hey! No fighting! Everyone!" Jimena spoke up, suprising them both. She was chained in a row, sandwiched between two others, and they hadn't noticed her.

"Shut your mouth!" Olga yelled.

"Don't you dare talk to her like that!" Patrick yelled back, surprised by the depth of feeling they felt, in protection of their still female lackey.

"QUIET! The both of you!" Jimena yelled as hard as she could, the noise making everyone wince in the confined space.

"Look, you have plenty of reason to be mad, but now is absolutely not the time for fighting." Jimena rattled her bindings to illustrate her point.

"Fuck you! We all want answers! What the hell's been happening?" another girl asked, glad to finally have an opportunity to speak out.

"Answers! You think I know anything about this?" Patrick said, shaking his head. "You're the bitches who did this to me!"

"Like hell! None of us even fucking cared you existed in the first place!"

Jimena rolled her eyes.

"Girls, chicas, come on. Do we really have to do this meathead shit now-"

This seemed to set Olga off even more.

"Girls?! Girls?! Have you seen what that freak did to me?"

"Nothing you weren't already doing to yourselves." Patrick growled.

"Like hell! We were punishing that bitch Fenk for the 'roids! But you...what the fuck did you put in the wine?"

"Thats enough!" Jimena yelled, clearly frustrated. "You're all talking at once! Come on, let's focus. We have to work together if we're to get out of here."

Patrick raised an eyebrow, clearly suprised. For someone who had taken such pleasure in being such a submissive lackey, to see Jimena being so authoritative and taking control of the situation was quite unexpected.

But not an unpleasant one, however.

"Look, I don't know whats going on exactly or why, but the way I see it we're all prisoners together. Not prisoners in a jail cell. Not prisoners in our rooms. Prisoners in a basement! And I don't know how much you've been paying attention, but the Headmistress herself seems responsible! We have to work together if we're going to get through this!" she pleaded.

Now she had the whole rooms attention, and many hostile glares fell on Jimena. But there were an equal number of frightened, desperate eyes turned to her, daring to hope, daring to believe.

"Fucking great speech. But unless you got some kind of file in that mini-skirt..." Olga growled.
"I don't think we're going anywhere."

"Look, I know it seems hopeless, but can't you see this whole situation is fucked the hell up? I am sure if we work together, we can find out a way somehow."

"Bullshit. You might like to talk tough sometimes, "chica", but everyone knows you're just a mouse. A mouse who follows a monster."

Patricia cut across. "Can it, apeface. Even before I did anything the steroids were turning your brains into mush. Now look at you."She sneered again.

"Why you!" Olga strained at her bonds, eager to get to grips with Patricia. Her muscles began to bulge, and the ropes seemed to strain taut.

"Please, I said no fighting-"

"Fuck that." Patrick continued, their tone filled with venomous mockery. "This he-male is one pop away from being the incredible fucking sulk. Still got a pussy? You don't even know it but you're going to be Oliver in a week at the latest. But hey, I bet it'll feel real great for you to have a real strapon for once-"

Olga's eyes bulged with fury, her hands straining to pull away from the pipe, her whole body thrashing and squirming on the loose, crinkled groundsheet, wild with apolexy.

Jimena looked at Patrick, who gave her a cocky wink. They knew what they were doing.

"Christ, you're ugly though. I dont know if any girls on this island would want to spread their legs for a Frankenstein freak like you.."

There was a loud -crack-, followed by a loud "pop", as Olga managed to dislocate her shoulder, the sudden overwhelming pain catching her short, and slamming her back against the pipe, panting and heaving.

"Okay, well, that didn't work." Patrick admitted after a moment, sighing. "But hey thanks for the entertainment."

"Aaah...go...fuck yourself..." Olga panted weakly, her face wet with sweat, her eyes moist with tears from the excruciating pain.

"That was...that wasn't very nice." one of the gym girls spoke up quietly.

"You are a bitch, Patricia. Or a dick, now, apparently? What IS going on here anyway?"

"I think we're entitled to answers." More began to speak up.

"Yeah. You want us to trust either of you? I wanna know whats going on!

Jimena sighed. Well, that wasn't an entirely unreasonable request...

Patrick sighed.

"And you think I have all the answers?"

They began to mutter and grumble fiercely. They might not have been able to physically harm Patrick, but their disapproval was obvious.

"Please, Patricia. Tell us everything. For me?" Jimena asked softly.

Despite her/himself, the former head girl relented.

Jimena had shown herself to be quite capable, after all. And, truthfully, there was nothing else to do.

"Alright, alright. I might as well. Here's everything I know so far..."

========================================================================================

The mood throughout the school leading up to Halloween was tense.

A Short Assembly was convened that Monday. Both Rex and Rowan were battling sleep deprivation, and Anya was...well, hiding. It was likely that she'd be found soon enough, but they just had to hope that searching Rex's room would not be something that would occur to them. It was a huge risk, but with everything they'd seen happen, well...they didn't dare take any chances.

The Headmistress issued a simple, terse statement, leaving the majority of the girls gossipping and muttering. The Gym Club was dissolved. All of its members had been suspended indefinitely, and been sent home. Lydia Fenk was confined to her home and her duties would be taken over by the other teachers.

Nothing was said about the School Nurse, about the Head Girl, or about Prefect Jimena being missing, either.

To Rowan's shock, it seemed like Nurse Romana was still there, still working as a Nurse, though she looked quite withdrawn, and wearing far less revealing clothing than she had been of late. Very baggy pants, he noted.

It was all just far too surreal. He found himself struggling to focus in his classes, glad he didn't have Yamaki today. But if this carried on...he would have to go to class with Dr Yamaki again. And so would Rebecca.

It was obvious that this strange status quo could not go on indefinitely.

The majority of the school seemed worried that the Halloween Ball might be cancelled, yet to his growing apprehension it wasn't mentioned. It was as if the Gym Club simply had never been. The ease with which everyone seemed to adjust to this new normal, without any official outcry, without any demand for a fuller explanation...

It was insane. And yet, he thought with cold trepidation, was it all that unusual for a school as rigid and cloistered as this? The Headmistress had spent years cultivating this culture. She controlled all information from the outside. She seemed to have near absolute power, especially with the increasingly visible presence of "hired" security. Her private goon squad, he thought.

There was one hope. The other faculty seemed equally uneasily.

As everyone filed into the communal dinner-hall, he noted how many of the other teachers seemed to be conversing with one another anxiously at their table. The staff had finally noticed the atmosphere, and when Thorn entered, escorted by Dr Yamaki and one of her security goons, there was an even colder air.

Something was definitely afoot at Strangeflower.

Becky came and sat next to him, squeezing his hand for support. "We'll get through this." she whispered, smiling at him.

He flushed. Becky. God, Rebecca...he hadn't even had time to think about her. Was she at risk? He looked at her anxiously, uncertain how to put his fears into words.

"Not here. Let's talk somewhere else, OK?"

He nodded.

He looked across as he left, and saw Rex's grim expression. Whatever else the situation, his friend...his friend's girlfriend- had it worse.

He vowed he would not let anyone turn Becky into some fucked up experiment. Not Yamaki, not Thorn, not anyone.

=======================================================================

After an uneasy dinner, the faculty heads all filed into Headmistress Thorn's conference room.

Many of them looked quite worried, a few were fiercely, openly angry.

Professor Kendra Aldrich was the first to speak out. Head of the English Department, she had been angling for Rosalia's seat for some time. She had taken control as the natural head of the opposition, and had been the most vocal in support of making Strangeflower a mixed-sex institution of learning.

A confident black woman with braided hair and wearing a form-fitting pant-suit, Kendra glared hard at Rosalia Thorn.

"You know why we're here, Thorn." she glowered, stabbing her finger into the table. Rosalia was unfazed.

"We've all been content with the way things were because it got results. Because nobody was asking questions. Because you delivered. But this? This is too much. Do you think you can play Armchair Dictator just because this school's an island? Your thugs don't scare us. One phone-call, Rosie. Thats all it takes. One Phone-call and I'll have the Board of Governors depose you so fast..."

"Ladies, please. There's no need to squabble. Have a seat. Would you all like a drink?"

She offered a glass of wine to Kendra, who glared at it.

"No. I want answers. And you're going to give them, to all of us. Or you're done. Not tomorrow, Not next week, not next year, but today. No honourable retirement. No golden package. Just the sack."

Rosalia simply grinned, and watched as the other teachers sat down reluctantly, some cautiously sipping at the wine she had provided.

"You talk tough, Aldrich. I wonder how many of this timid flock of sheep are really with you, or are just following the herd?" she mused openly.

"Cut the crap. Answers, now."

"Oh very well. You are so boring, Kendra. I can't imagine why you were ever hired. Do you think the male students you worked so hard to bring here give an ounce of a damn about you or your post-colonialist literary studies? How many of them have you had "private tuition" with anyway, mmm?"

Aldrich refused to be baited. Few noticed as Nurse Romana entered the meeting, quietly and discreetly moving amongst them all.

"You want answers? Well, if you must have the truth. But I guarantee none of what we speak here today will pass these walls. I am not ready to retire yet. Not ready to see scandal shatter this...precious institution into pieces. I have work yet to do, and I will not let any student or staff-member interfere with that."

There was a barely audible click, as the doors were locked from outside. Rosalia felt her blood pounding. This was going to be fun.

Kendra glowered. "Your work? And what is it you do, mmm? Spy on everyone from your mansion? Hire a private mafia? You accuse us of wrongdoings, but what madness got into you? You really think you can play dictator and not have anyone notice?"

"I am many things, Kendra. You could not begin to fathom half of them."

"Enough bullshit! Tell us what you did with the Gym Club, and with Lydia Fenk. Oh, and what happened to the Head Girl? She has been ill for weeks but her disappearance is too timely. I know you are responsible."

"Why don't I show you?"

Kendra frowned, and then a wine glass dropped.

Spinning around, she saw one of the teachers gasping, her face bright red, her body twitching, her hands caressing herself intimately.

"Mrs Jones! What are you-"

Another clunk, this time of a wine-glass knocked over. Another teacher seemingly lost in some strange, erotic fever. The others all began to murmur.

"You...poisoned us?" Kendra said incredulously, unable to fathom this turn of events. Yet it was the only thing that made sense.

"Oh, hardly. I have drugged you all, however. Something entirely harmless...well, except to your reputations, if it all gets out." She chuckled.

"I didn't drink your damn wi-"

Nurse Romana, on cue, stepped up behind Kendra Aldrich, grabbing her arm tightly, and injected her with...something.

She gasped.

"I'm sorry...but...it does feel really good, when you get used to it." Romana said, her eyes glassy, her lips drooling.

"What...what have you done...?"

Rosalia watched. "You wanted boys in this school so badly, Professor Aldrich? Well, now you get to have them on the faculty too."

She laughed, as the strange, erotic scene began to unfold before her...