Cold winds whipped around Paula and Regina's bare, exposed skin as they were carried down the mountain and into the small outpost in the valley. From there, they were hauled into a large truck. They were released from their restraints, but then forcibly buckled into chairs from inside the truck. There were about 24 chairs in this truck in total, all of which were facing outward. The walls of the truck were not solid steel, but a steel-like, transparent material that acted as a window. We don't know what this material is made of, but the point is that you can see outside while sitting in the truck. Paula and Regina were buckled in at the hips, and their sore ankles and wrists strapped to the chair as well. At least the chairs were made of soft fabric.
A few other young women were in this truck as well. More and more naked women were hauled over to the truck and buckled in. Paula and Regina noted that most of them were people they didn't know. They must have been striking all sorts of outposts from around the area. And as the minutes poured on, every seat was filled. A couple of women were muttering to each other, and a Tunisia came over and taped their mouths shut--pointing to the sign that read, "BE QUIET, NO TALKING." Paula, her mouth already taped, continued to struggle against her straps and yelling through her tape. Another Tunisia noticed her, and stung her with a tranquilizer. Paula's head dropped forward as she instantly fell asleep. Sitting right next to her, Regina kept her lips firmly sealed.
The truck door was closed, and the big vehicle whirred to life and began to take off. Regina watched the mountaintop that she called home slowly fade out of view. Paula simply sat there next to her, unconscious and drooling onto the seat between her legs.
An hour went by. Dried tears were firmly crusted on Regina's face as she watched the passing trees, hills, rivers and streams. Finally, the road lead to civilization. She had to admit she was excited, at the very least, to see the city with her own eyes. She had lived all her 16 years wandering no farther than fifty-or-so miles from home, collecting scraps and exploring small, abandoned buildings. Surveillance by the Tunisias had become thorough enough that no one in her community had been to the city in 22 and a half years. Her grandpa had always told her, back in the day, before the "Hedonocalypse" as they sometimes called it (they never did decide on a good name for it,) the city had been a really great place. Full of busy people learning, and working, and growing.
"That's what people think when they heard the name, 'Chicago'." Grandpa had explained. "Chicago. A place for big ideas. For prosperity."
Regina was always fascinated and amused when she heard and read of what it used to be, because as a child born after the Hedonocalypse, all "Chicago" could make her think of was an endless, sprawling metropolis of sedentary stagnation.
Regina had seen a few Feeders in person--from a distance--before, and even one time saw a Feedee. But now her field of vision was flooded with dozens, hundreds, thousands of Feedees and Feeders as the truck navigated through the city streets. Regina dreaded every time the truck came to a stop at an intersection. Some of the Feedees and Feeders on the street would notice the truck, and start staring at her and the others. Some would wave, others would point and laugh. Why? They were all clearly the ridiculous ones; morbidly obese and carted around in hover chairs.
Regina took in the sights of the people. Many of them were topless, or out on the street in just their bra. Many Feedees were tucked into a blanket, their breasts presumably exposed underneath. Many Feeders were mostly naked, as well. Content to walk around in public wearing nothing but their big, bulky underwear, sometimes not even a bra. A few of them were completely nude, but Regina knew why that wouldn't be common--because of the protection they would need. The truck passed a public park, and Regina gasped as she noticed a Feeder masturbating in public. She also saw a Feedee leaned back in her chair, being masturbated by her Feeder, as well. Regina was completely disgusted, and began to finally cry again. Paula, meanwhile, just sat there asleep with a dried-up stain of drool between her legs.
After about another half hour of weaving in and out of traffic, the truck arrived at a wide, five-story building. The truck door was swung open, and a pair of Tunisias came in to release the women from their bindings, two by two. Once their unbuckling was finished, one of them saw the sleeping Paula in her chair, and picked her up. The other Tunisia noticed a different girl who had also been tranquilized, and grabbed her as well. The two unconscious were carried out first, and then a senior Tunisia ordered all of the women to stand up and walk out of the truck single-file.
"NO TALKING; NO NOISE. FULL COOPERATION IS MANDATORY." The senior Tunisia said, and was met with full compliance--none of the others wanting to be tranquilized.
Regina followed along as she was stuck in the middle of the line on the left; being guided onto the cold, rough concrete with her bare feet and into a large building, filled with a number of Tunisias swarming about. As she walked with her head mostly down, she saw that each of the people around her wore either the double-circles or the triangle-star on their bottoms. She gasped, and briefly turned her head around, grabbing her bottom.
"Oh thank god..." She thought to herself when she saw the circles. She was horrified to know Paula was going to become a Feedee (she had caught a few glances of her rear), and all Regina had to hope for now was that she would at least be a Feeder.
She also noticed--based on the stains between the legs and some of the seats she saw walking out of the truck--that more than a couple of the girls in this lineup were having their time of the month. Those specific girls were instructed to break away from the rest, and were guided into a different hallway, soon folding out of Regina's view.
All of the people who were not menstruating, continued to be guided through the hallways. As they progressed, they met up with several other lineups of naked girls. The Tunisias ordered these lineups to merge, break off and switch around in very specific orders. In the truck, at least a few of the women were from nearby communities. But by the end of this shuffling, Regina found herself in a group of about 20 girls, and not a single one of whom she recognized.
the main hall. A pair of giant, wooden, double-wide doors were opened. The girls were asked to go inside the room, and the Tunisias closed the doors behind them. The room was dark. No one could see anything. There weren't any glowing lights, so there probably weren't any Tunisias, but no one wanted to whisper something and risk getting in trouble. There was silence for but a second.
"Hey, everybody!" A deep female voice rung out through the room as the curtains burst open.
Regina saw that they were in a big dressing room, with lush carpet, warm furniture and soft natural lighting. The source of the voice was standing in the middle of the room, a morbidly obese Caucasian woman in business casual attire. Given that she looked only 150 or so pounds overweight and was standing on her own feet, she was identifiable as a Feeder.
"I want you all to feel a very warm welcome!" She chirped, walking over and giving each of the women a hug, one by one, to the growing discomfort of them all. "I know it's been so hard, your whole lives..." She said, "Trapped in abandoned buildings, homeless, having to live your whole lives in the woods, or in a cave..." She continued, Regina perking up at that last part. "And now you're finally free. You can finally become a part of civilization, and can truly express yourself, at long last." They all received her hugs, grunting and staring at each other. None of them liked how this woman smelled. Most of the girls hadn't had a shower in a while, but this Feeder was more rank than the rest of them. She had stains in her pits, and crusted-up snot beneath her nose. She looked to be in her late 30's to early 40's.
"...oh!" The Feeder said. "And you can talk now."
"I lived in the woods of my own free choice, and YOU'RE the one who's enslaving me!" Screamed one young teenager at the top of her lungs, completely losing her temper.
"Up up up!" The Feeder turned around, putting a finger on her lips. "But no violence now, okay? We're gonna be peaceful and civilized here, alright? Let's not cause trouble."
The teenager huffed and puffed, calming herself down. Regina slyly looked over, and observed that this girl was labelled with the double-circles.
"Can we at least ask questions?" Said one taller person, approaching the Feeder, who looked to be in her early 20's, and whose bottom bore the triangle-star.
"Of course you can, honey!" The Feeder answered.
"Who are you, then?" The woman asked.
"Oh, excuse me for not introducing myself." She said, turning back to the group. "My name is Rhonda Joseph, and I'm going to be your community director!"
"Nice to meet you, Rhonda. Melissa Cannon." The taller woman replied, reaching her hand out, somewhat aggressively.
"Hmhm." Rhonda chuckled, belatedly reciprocating the action to shake. "Nice to meet you too, Melissa. Now be sure to refer to me as 'Mrs. Joseph' from now on, okay? 'Community Director Joseph' or just 'Director Joseph' works too."
"Mmhm?" Melissa replied. "And what's gonna happen if I insist on calling you 'Rhonda'?" She said, her fist rested gently on her hips.
"Well, that would just cause a lot of trouble." Mrs. Joseph shrugged. "Please avoid causing trouble." She insisted.
Melissa took a deep sigh.
"Fine then, alright. So Community Director Joseph, what does a 'community manager' do?" She asked.
"Oh I just help you girls out. I'm not here to tell you what to do, I just help keep your lives comfortable." Mrs. Joseph answered.
"And just what is 'our lives' going to entail?" Melissa asked.
"We can talk much more about it later, for now you all ought to be getting dressed!" Mrs. Joseph answered, turning to the group and guiding them to the many little closets and dressers. There were 20 closets, each with their own dresser. Mrs. Joseph asked the group to each pick one, and write their names on it--as there were 20 of them, exactly one for each.
Regina made a quick and decisive choice for her closet (#11). She had to admit that she made her decision out of racism; the girl who had picked closet #12 was Asian, and Regina was fascinated by her and wanted to be next to her. Her community was pretty diverse (a few African-Americans, and indeed half of them were Hispanic. Paula was half white, half Hispanic, for instance,) but Regina had never met someone of Asian descent before. She knew it was shallow, but she figured she had to choose her closet some way or another.
After writing her name on the little label at the top of the closet door, she looked over and saw that the girl next to her had written a number of Korean characters, followed by the Roman letters, "Nam Ae-Cha."
"Uh, hey." Regina said, sheepishly. "Nice to meet you. I'm Regina Nash." She extended a hand.
"Hi Regina! Nice to meet you too!" She warmly accepted her handshake, obviously as desperate for someone to be friendly as Regina was. "I'm Nam Ae-Cha! You can just call me 'Nami'."
"Okay, Nami!" Regina smiled, their hands kind of stuck together at the moment. "Hey, hold on though... is 'Nam' your family name?"
"Mmhm." Nami answered.
"And 'Ae-Cha' is your given name, right?"
"Yes."
"So, why...?"
"Oh! Well, everyone always got it wrong anyways, and 'Nami' is easier to say. I'm totally okay with being called that, I promise!" Nami explained.
"Oh. Okay." Regina chuckled nervously.
Regina was afraid she may have offended her, but Nami only looked impressed with her knowledge (Regina always coped up with books in her room) and increasingly comfortable towards her.
"So uh..." Nami said, looking down. "We should probably get some clothes on, right?" She giggled.
"Yeah." Regina giggled back.
They turned to their closets and opened the doors...
Inside, all they saw were a small collection of plain, sleeveless tent dresses. Each of their closets had exactly seven tent dresses in a different color (black, white, gray, scarlet, teal, orange and mint-green.) In fact, ALL of the 20 closets had only these seven dresses. Everyone searched their dressers, but they were all empty.
"What's up with this?" Melissa asked Director Joseph, approaching her again.
"Oh I know it's troublesome, guys." Mrs. Joseph rang out to the group. "If you could just bare with me on this, you'll have the chance to wear more clothes soon!"
Melissa couldn't bring herself to complain any further, as the dresses were made of much nicer material than most of them had ever worn. Regina couldn't be anything but pleased with it either, as she had mostly worn animal skins and sacks her whole life. The lack of any underwear was bothersome, but at least she was covered at all now.
"Is everybody gonna be okay with these dresses, now?" Mrs. Joseph asked.
Everyone looked around a bit, and realized that everyone was pretty happy to have fresh, new clothing to wear. They reluctantly nodded.
"Good!" Mrs. Joseph beamed. "I'm glad you're all being so cooperative! Now you can go over to the next room and pick out your bedrooms."
A second later, a loud gurgling sound is heard. Everyone in the room notices. Just after that, the sound is following by a wet plopping noise; a sploshing, oozing and bubbling sound carries itself across the room, coming from Mrs. Joseph.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go." She nodded, headed over to a door that she unlocked with a key card and stepped behind it. Melissa followed behind her to confirm that the door couldn't be accessed without the key.
Everyone comfortably dressed (well, somewhat comfortably,) they did as Mrs. Joseph had instructed, and headed through another set of double-wide doors, into what looked like a sort of lobby area. It had couches, chairs, bean bags, TVs, video games, comics and books. To the left was a large kitchen area. To the right were still more hallways, which lead to mostly identical bedrooms. Melissa (almost officially the de-facto leader by now) walked ahead and counted 10 rooms in total... so each room would have two people.
Nami and Regina took dibs without even fully inspecting what they dibbed, to ensure they got a room together. Several of them told Melissa that she should get her own room and not have to share with anyone, and said they would triple-up into one of the rooms to make that possible. Melissa answered them that she did not deserve any special treatment, and asked who in the group would like to room with her. Three or four hands went up immediately. Those with their hands up looked at each other, embarrassed, and put their hands down. All except for one; the brash teenager from earlier who had screamed at Director Joseph. Her hand stayed confidently up. Melissa giggled at her confidence, and picked her as her roommate.
A few minutes later, the group's distant mumbling had turned into vibrant chatting. Nami and Regina slinked into their room together, wishing to keep themselves away from the chatter.
"You're kind of anti-social too, huh?" Nami said, sitting on the bed. "WHOA!" She exclaimed.
"Yeah I'm kind of a lone-wolf..." Regina replied. "Whoa what?"
"This bed is SO COMFY!" Nami said, pressing her face into the pillows.
Regina experimentally laid down as well, and was rendered into a giggling fit as the two of them tossed and turned around on the king-sized mattress.
About a half hour later of just enjoying the soft, soft bed, the two of them laid there next to each other. Regina looked over at Nami, in her teal dress (nobody had picked teal, so they both picked teal to match.)
"Hey..." She asked.
"Hey what?" Nami asked back.
"Where did you come from?" Asked Regina.
"Oh like my family?" Nami asked back again.
"Yeah. I came from like, a community of people hiding in a cave, 100 miles southwest of Chicago. What about you?" Regina said.
"We were in the basement of an abandoned building." Nami answered.
The two of them talked about their lives, their upbringings, their hopes and their dreams for hours and hours until the sun went down. They debated, for a moment, about whether to turn on the lamp.
"But wait, dude, it's not our electricity." Nami said. "We can use all the light we want, right?"
"Yeah, I guess. I mean I assume this building is hooked up to a normal electric supply." Regina said, cautiously twisting the lamp on. "It's crazy, man... your whole life having to save every single bit of electricity that you can, and now I guess we can use as much as we want, huh?"
"Yeah." Nami said, snuggling a pillow. "Like don't get me wrong, I'm still terrified and all, but this is pretty nice."
"I suppose." Regina sat down on the chair by the desk. "I hate Feeders and Feedees. I hate society. I really thought I was gonna be part of a rebellion that thwarted the aliens and restored humans to their natural order. But I guess I'm not now."
"I know. I don't want to be a Feeder, either." Nami replied, thinking about the double-circles tattooed on her bottom.
"Feeders are disgusting!" Regina turned to her friend. "You smelled her, right? She has 24/7 access to running water, and yet she doesn't use it!" Regina clenched her fists thinking about her new Community Director.
"Well hey man... we can't do anything about it now. The best we can do is go along with it, and maybe if we embrace what's coming, we can still make some of our own decisions." Nami sat up. "I mean, at least we're not Feedees, right?"
"Right..." Regina muttered, thinking about Paula.