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The city has been rid of terrorists and threats to the system. Young or old, if you were a threat you were handed to authorities to be brainwashed into following the law of land. The new dictator, or City Chief as we were ordered to call him, was ridding the land of lowlifes like us. 

I don’t know how I ended up in here. The institute it was called. Well to us, the institute, to the outsiders it was the department of correction. Making horrible, lowlife rebels into good, law abiding citizens. The majority of convicts in here were males in their early twenties, there were a few females but I was by far the youngest girl in here. I had been a “bad girl” and fought the system... sadly I clearly lost. At only 14 I belonged to a pimp (to escape the system, I would), but at 15 he decided he had enough of me. “Crying never turns anyone on you little shit! The clients are not one bit happy!” he’d shout at me, clearly he had enough “I own you, you do know that!?” I feared for my life. What was he going to do to me? I didn’t mean to cry and get scared of clients... I just did. Dirty punk he muttered as he drove to a dark building. He handed me over to his “good friend Paddy”, the holder and boss of the institute. “We’ll knock some respect into this one” he laughed. I was grabbed in.

With two men in military type uniforms on either side of me, I was escorted to an office where Paddy sat down. “Right I don’t wannae hear a fuckin word from you, aye?”. I never realized what a strong Scottish accent he had. “Alri” I said, in my thick Dublin accent.  “Not a bloody word!” he shouted, I didn’t reply. “Strip!” he said. I looked puzzled. “Take off your clothes, you wee brat or I’ll get someone to rip them off you!” I was very scared of Paddy, because I knew he had an awful reputation, so I followed orders. As I began to take my shirt off, he spoke again. “How old are you wee one?” I didn’t know weather this was a trick or not. “Answer me NOW!” I told him I was nearly 16. He glanced at the guards and quickly said “leave your underwear on, Jesus this is a bloody detention centre, not a day care!” I did as instructed. I saw shock on their faces but I did not know why. As I stood there, Paddy said to one of the guards, “Bring her for a medical, and bring back the report”. Medical? Where was I been taken? Where they going to do something awful?

Led down the corridor, handcuffed, and escorted by a solider I feared for the worst. I was thrown into what looked like a doctor’s surgery. “Ring the bell the moment you’re done” the guard said to the doctor, and left. I started shaking. “Don’t be scared of me young one” he said genteelly “I don’t wannae be here either!” I didn’t reply. Taking out a report form, he asked me to stand on the scale. SHIT. Standing on it, and putting all my weight down, I barley reached 80lbs. The doctor looked shocked. Still in my underwear he asked me to look in the mirror behind me and tell him honestly what I saw. “A little obese cow” I replied. “Are you sure?” he asked. “Yes, I deserve all this”. He didn’t reply. Instead he measured me and did a medical check. After taking all the details down, he put the pen down and looked at me. “I’m worried about you”. I laughed nervously. “Why... I’m the one sitting here in me underwear!” He rang the bell, and the solider fella came back.

I was brought back to Paddy’s office. “So, here is the deal slut.” Paddy said “We call the shots around here. You will call me and the boys Sir. We are above you wee one! We will give you three meals a day. Whatever we say, you do. Any cheek will not be tolerated!” He handed me a dress, like on of those hospital things. “Wear this”, and then grabbing my wrist put a metal bracelet on my right wrist. It had the letters “m017f” on it. “You will be housed with the rest of the minors. You are the only female minor we have, most of the inmates wear uniforms, and the minors are all male so they wear school like uniforms. You however shall wear the hospital gown.” I was led off, I saw him being handed the medical report.

I had gotten used to the routine. Every morning waking up, inspection by one of Paddy’s men, breakfast (skipped it), going to re-education classes where we were shown how to be “good citizens”, went to lunch (Pushed food around), did the laundry rounds with the rest of the women, “ate” dinner, did Paddy’s chores and then went to bed. I was the youngest of the inmates, most of who came to like me. At meal times we were put sitting with convicts from other houses. I was intimidated at first because, most of the people sitting at my table where big, strong tattooed men, but then I realized. They wouldn’t notice if I didn’t eat. They wouldn’t even want to talk to me right? Wrong. It all started with B142 asking me why I never eat. “Fuck off. I always eat loads”. They all started laughing. “Well your obviously too young to be here, why are you in here?” I stayed silent. “Is it against the law to anorexic now?” Trying to convince the pricks I didn’t have an eating disorder, I started eating. “See!?”. They exchanged glances. “Why are you here?” I asked the smartass. “Well, I asked first, but I was heavily evolved in the IRA.”. After a pause he said “The same as you”. Fuck. “I wasn-” “Save it wee one, and just fucking eat something”.

After dinner I was put back in my cell. It wasn’t really a cell; it was like a huge dorm, with all the other minors. All together there were 18 of us. Well 17, up until a few moments ago, when a new arrival came. M018m. Or Colin. He seemed nice enough. As all the lads where too busy talking to the new arrival to notice me slipping into the toilets. Knelling down on the piss covered floor I shoved my fingers down my throat. I pushed and pushed. All of a sudden I saw my dinner coming up. Success. I did this for 10 minutes, pushing and puking. My eyes were red, the room was spinning, yet I was relieved. I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life being fat. Oh no. Walking out, I was dizzy, yet I had a smile on my face. Then Mark walked in. Shiiit. “Are you ok? Have you been crying?”. He sounded worried. “No!” I said angrily. Nosy little cunt. I walked off, with a huge guilt over my shoulders. Later I apologized. What was wrong anyway? He asked, again sounding concerned. “Eh... I was on my period and I get emoi-“ “OK, OK, no need for details” he winced. I was smiling again.

Next day at dinner I was pushing food around as usual when one of the lads asked “Did anyone hear about Sean?” “Yeah he did a legger didn’t he?”. Wow. I admired Sean for doing that. He was one of the untouchables. No one messed with him. We all feared the chap and his gang, don’t get me wrong, but we had respect for him. I can’t believe he ran away. I wondered did the guards know? I wonder was he caught? Would we pay for his actions? Suddenly Paddy or “the boss” as he was known and “his boys” charged in. “ATTENTION” he yelled. We all stood up. Suddenly the boss pointed at me! “Grab the wee one!” I was very small for my age, around 5”0, and it was extremely for one of Paddy’s boys to hold me up in the air, with a tight grip on my arms. “Right!” Paddy screamed “The group who helped Sean escape, come forward NOW”. Ripping off my hospital gown, my entire body and filthy underwear were on show to everyone. Pointing at my visible ribcage, The Boss said “I will break the wee ones ribs unless someone comes forward!”. Silence. I was whimpering. “I’ll do it with me own two hands!” he threatened. Finally one stood up. “it was us.” The Untouchables. We knew it, but feared them to much to say a word. “Right!” The Boss said “Take them, and her” looking at me.

This time I really was scared. I didn’t do anything, so what did they want with me? As I was escorted down a maze of corridors, I was shaking, and in a lot of pain, from the foot cuffs. Pushed into a dark little room, I was ordered to stand against the wall. There was a platform I was told to stand on, and then my hands were cuffed, in the air oddly enough. “Russian style” The Boss laughed.

Still in my underwear, The Boss lit up a smoke and said “you all know the drill”. The Untouchables, who were sitting in front of me nodded. It was the girl who freaked me out. Her piercing eyes. Her aphetic look. The other two looked nervous. Paddy turned to me. “OK, M017f, how old are you?” I replied “..16 Sir” “and tell me Wee One.. do you wannae live?” Confusion and fear hit me. “Yes. Of course I want to live Sir!”. Taking a pause Paddy said “Well if these scum won’t tell me what they know, we will destroy you”. With that he yelled at the trio “So, who’s gonna speak?”. Again more silence. With that The Boss put his smoke out on my bare tummy. With the pain burning through my flesh I began to cry. “Shut up whore!” one of the guards shouted and punched my aching stomach. “Stop it! She didn’t do anything!” one of them finally yelled. “Oh so are you going to talk yet B150m?”. I pleaded with my eyes but he shock his head, I felt something . They carried on beating me, while I grew weaker and weaker. Finally I was getting too weak to even pay attention. The Untouchables remained silent. Paddy obviously had noticed I was getting weak so he laughed and said “watch this”. He undid my cuffs and I fell flat on the floor. With his big boot over my arm he said “I’ll break her arm”. I could feel more and more pressure coming down. When he saw me in agony, he did the same to my rib cage. Crying in pain, finally one of the Untouchables couldn’t take it and shouted “OK WE’LL TALK!”.

As they were escorted out, Paddy looked down on me. “She’s still alive”. “Pick her up, and give her a meal. Make sure she eats every fuckin morsel!”. One of the guards lifted me up on a chair, while another one came in, with a plate of food. One sat down opposite me and the other left. I looked at the food, then the guard. “Just eat it. You don’t want The Boss t-” I started to eat. I ate and ate until one of the guards came back in an said “Ok, you can bring her to the trial”. The trial?

Before we entered a huge court like room, I was given my dress thing to put back on. After sitting down, I saw the female Untouchable on trial. The judge found her guilty. “And we order that this inmate be shaved and groomed by the barber here and now. All of a sudden I saw a guard walking in. One I had never seen before. He had two tall, shiny headed female assistants. The assistants began to set up tables for The Barber and the inmate was ordered to strip of all clothes. As she did so, the audience of the court became more and more interested. She was put sitting in a barber’s chair and her arms and legs were cuffed. She didn’t try to resist. First the barber noticed “the bush growing between the legs”. The barber gets his clippers and slowly the black hairs fall to the ground. Next after putting hot water on, he proceeded to lather her up, and with the kiss of a razor blade he removed the stubble. Continually dipping the razor in the water he finally finishes. “Slave 1! Tweezers!” One of his girls hands him a blunt tweezers, with which he removes all the stray hairs. It suddenly hit me, that this girl must have an amazing pain tolerance! Her pussy is bare and vulnerable now. Her piercing eyes remain. “Slave 2, proceed to the sluts nipples and Slave 1, assist me on the tattooing”. Slave 2 clamped the nipples, and cleaned the piercing gun while the barber (who also appeared to be a tattooist as well) tattooed her thigh. He revealed the word “Slave 3”, in large, black, military style letters. I could see The Boss smiling. Next the barber proceeds to her head. Grabbing a fistful of chestnut locks he violently chops them off, a fistful at a time. She now has what looks like an uneven bob, “not for long” the barber laughed. After being handed a clipper from Slave 2, we hear a pop and all of sudden we see the chestnut locks fall to the ground. Pushing her head down he proceeds to the crown. Finally all we see is a head of stubble. “Slave 1! Razor!”. He carefully covered the short wisps with shaving gel, spread it out and took his razor off Slave 1. After having shaved her head he repeated the lathering and shaving, making sure that on the inmates head. not a single trail of stubble could be felt. He wiped her scalp clean and rubbed a lotion into the skin. Finally he requested his tattooing materials back. What was he doing now. After a period of buzzing noises, and wincing from the pain, he revealed his work. Like Slave 1 and 2, the new Slave 3 had “Property of the Institute of Correction” tattooed on her bald, shiny head. She no longer possessed her piercing stare.

Paddy came over, shook the barbers hand and said to the new Slave 3 “That’ll teach you some manners, bitch!”

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