Chapter 4: Lifestyle Decision

As the naked secretary began attaching something to their collars, that caused a distinct sound to echo throughout the room. At that moment, a wave of realization washed over me as I was witnessing my childhood friend become something unnoticeable. I had just seen them being transformed into a servant, stripped of their basic rights to their body, including the freedom to wear clothes.

It was a stark reminder of the gravity of their decision and the sacrifices they had made. While my friend Carrie, our brothers, and I had all agreed to refrain from wearing clothes at school, we had not gone so far as to surrender our dignity. The enormity of their choice weighed heavily on me, and I couldn’t fathom how anyone could willingly volunteer to give up so much of themselves as they both have done.

Nathaniel’s voice pierced the heavy silence, infused with unwavering determination. “I, too, have engaged in thorough discussions with my parents,” he announced, his resolve palpable in his tone. “And now, I, too, have relinquished my autonomy, becoming a complete servant outside of the school campus.” With those words, he mirrored Colleen’s gesture, sinking to kneel beside her, a tangible display of their mutual dedication to their chosen path.

The principal’s voice cut through the solemn atmosphere, commanding the attention of the entire class. “Everyone, if you would,” she began, her tone imbued with solemnity, “please rise to show your respect for the two volunteers who have agreed to serve as lab mannequins for the class and the school as a whole.” Her words hung in the air, a poignant reminder of the sacrifice Colleen and Nathaniel had willingly made for the betterment of their peers and the entire school community.

Following a brief exchange with the principal, the teacher stepped forward to address us. She directed our new school servants, one to my side of the room and two to the left side, with a sense of authority that underscored the gravity of the situation. Without hesitation, Colleen and Nathaniel complied, their movements echoing the solemnity of the moment as they split up, each taking their designated side of the room. It was a moment tinged with a profound sense of degradation, as they obediently fulfilled their assigned roles.

As they made their way down the aisles, the students eagerly seized the opportunity to examine and learn from the unconventional demonstration unfolding before them. I watched in astonishment as Colleen, now designated as two, started at the row next to me, her demeanor poised and composed as she glided down the line of desks. At every stop, she engaged with the students, patiently answering their questions and allowing them to inspect her with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue. It was a surreal sight, one that left me both amazed and unsettled, as the boundaries between education and exploitation blurred before my eyes.

As one made his way toward my desk, his strides measured and deliberate, I couldn’t help but notice the cruel graffiti defacing his form. The sight was disheartening, a stark reminder of the lack of respect displayed by some students, their actions tarnishing the solemnity of the classroom. Despite the indignity he faced, one pressed on with unwavering resolve, his determination shining through in the face of adversity.

Across the room, two approached with a similar sense of purpose, her movements calculated and steady. Yet, there was a palpable sense of restraint in her demeanor, a silent acknowledgment of the weight of her decision. As she drew nearer, a sense of unease washed over me, a silent question lingering in the air, begging to be addressed.

When two finally stood before me, her posture subdued and her gaze lowered, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of empathy wash over me. It was evident that she carried the weight of her decision heavily, the burden of surrendering her autonomy weighing heavily on her shoulders. Driven by a sense of compassion, I leaned in closer and whispered, “Why?”

For a moment, two remained silent, her expression inscrutable as she gathered her thoughts. Finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, she responded. “Just tell me, ‘Two, I want to see you after class’,” she murmured, her words laden with a quiet intensity that belied their simplicity. The enigmatic nature of her response left me with a sense of unease, a nagging curiosity lingering at the edges of my mind.

As her words hung in the air, pregnant with unspoken significance, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of empathy for the two. Beneath her calm demeanor, I sensed a whirlwind of emotions churning, her stoic facade barely concealing the depth of her inner turmoil. With a weighty heart, I observed as she silently retreated to the desk behind me, a solitary figure navigating the stormy waters of uncertainty amidst the chaos of the classroom.

Carrie leaned in close, her voice barely a whisper as she inquired her curiosity palpable in the air. “What did you ask her?” Her words were laced with intrigue, sparking a playful energy between us.

I leaned back slightly, a smirk playing on my lips as I met Carrie’s gaze. “I asked her if I could talk to her after class,” I replied, my tone carrying a hint of mischief. “And you know what she said? She told me to command her to.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Carrie’s lips, mirroring the amusement dancing in her eyes. “So, what did you do?” she prompted, her eagerness evident as she leaned in, eager for the next chapter of our unfolding tale.

With a casual shrug, I recounted the daring move. “I did just that. I commanded her to meet me after class.” Satisfaction laced my words, mingled with a hint of disbelief at the audacity of the situation.

As our conversation flowed, time seemed to slip away unnoticed, consumed by the intrigue of our exchange. Suddenly, the shrill ring of the bell shattered the moment, jolting us back to reality. Carrie and I exchanged a glance, realizing in unison that class had come to an end. With a shared chuckle, we gathered our belongings and made our way back to our seats, leaving behind the hushed tones of our clandestine conversation.

After the abrupt chime of the bell marked the end of class, a flurry of activity ensued. The principal, clad in authority, approached the new substitutes with warmth, enveloping them in hugs that seemed to convey both welcome and camaraderie. Following her lead, the secretary mirrored the principal’s gesture before slipping out of the room amid the departing students, her exit barely registering amidst the bustling atmosphere.

Meanwhile, Carrie, already primed to leave, halted at my interruption, her attention drawn back to me with a curious glance. As I spoke, her demeanor softened into a warm smile, signaling her openness to the idea. Together, we navigated through the dispersing crowd towards the teacher, who stood as a focal point at the front of the room, amidst the tide of students heading for the door.

Approaching him with a blend of courtesy and determination, I addressed him respectfully. “Sir, could we wait until you excuse Colleen, or Sub Two?” My words hung in the air, a polite yet urgent request as we sought permission to extend an invitation.

The teacher regarded us with a bemused expression, perhaps surprised by our unexpected request or amused by our earnestness. After a brief pause, he nodded in agreement, permitting us to delay our departure until Sub Two, as she was referred to, was free to join us. With anticipation bubbling within us, we lingered near the teacher’s desk, ready to extend our invitation to our classmate once she was relieved of her duties.

The teacher’s inquiry broke through the atmosphere, his voice carrying a curious tone as he sought further clarification. “Sure, are you friends with Two prior to today?”

In unison, Carrie and I nodded, confirming our prior acquaintance with Colleen, or Sub Two, before the day’s events had unfolded.

The teacher’s gaze shifted to Colleen, silently prompting her for confirmation. “Two, is that true?” he queried, his tone carrying a hint of expectation.

Standing beside us, Colleen responded promptly, her voice resolute and unwavering. “Yes, Sir,” she affirmed her words echoing with sincerity.

A sudden tension gripped the air as I wrestled with the burning question, one that I both dreaded and felt compelled to ask. Summoning my courage, I directed my gaze towards Mr. Adjani, the teacher whose authority now loomed over us in unforeseen ways. “Mr. Adjani, how much power do you have over these two now?” My voice quivered slightly, revealing the unease that churned within me, even as I braced myself for his response.

Carrie’s incredulous gaze met mine, silently questioning the wisdom of my inquiry. Yet, beneath her disbelief, I detected a glimmer of comprehension, a realization of the seriousness of the situation we now faced. With a blend of apprehension and acceptance, we braced ourselves for the teacher’s response, understanding that his words would illuminate the mysteries of our altered reality.

As the tension in the classroom thickened, Mr. Adjani’s voice shattered the silence, his instructions leaving an unsettling imprint on the air. The gravity of the situation became clearer as he outlined the extent of his authority, delineated in the documents, which granted him and the school complete control over their bodies to use as he saw fit. The weight of his words hung heavy in the room, casting a pall over our understanding of the situation.

He handed me an envelope and a bull clip, directing me with a tone that brooked no argument, his instructions devoid of any emotion. Without hesitation, two complied, her actions mechanical and devoid of personal agency as she followed his orders.

With a sense of detachment, she affixed the envelope to her skin, the metal clip securing it in place. Then, almost robotically, she reached for the marker, her hand moving with precision as she began to inscribe ‘Important documents on stomach’ as instructed. The room remained silent; the only sound was the scratch of the marker against her skin, marking the beginning of a profound shift in her identity and circumstances.

As she completed the task, a heavy tension settled over the room, the weight of the moment palpable to all who witnessed it. Each stroke of the marker seemed to cement her new reality, casting a shadow over the once-familiar environment.

Once the task was finished, Mr. Adjani issued his next directive with a chilling detachment. “Walk us out of the classroom,” he instructed, gesturing towards two. Without hesitation, she guided us towards the door, her compliance unsettling in its unquestioning nature.

With a nod of resignation, we accepted the harsh reality before us, our gazes briefly flickering with concern as we prepared to depart. Before leaving, however, Mr. Adjani issued me a final warning. “You can take Sub Two off campus, but please return her to her owners in the next thirty minutes,” he cautioned, his words a stark reminder of the power dynamics at play.