Chapter 2Zero Tolerance24 January 2022Dear Amy,

  No. That’s not how she should start this message. It’s too formal, too unlike her and if she fails to get the vibe of the message right, Ace will just make her friend even more worried.

  Ayms,

  I’m sorry, but I think I’m going to have to stop talking to you for a little while.

  A little while? It’s going to be five years. Five years of her being in that programme she agreed to, perhaps a little hastily, but agreed to nonetheless.

  I can’t tell you why, but you know I would tell you if I could do so without causing issues for myself.

  Amy will understand having to keep secrets for others. Whilst they are quite open towards each other, perhaps a little too open at times, given the parts of the body that Amy has seen and that Ace, in return, has seen as well, there are plenty of secrets that Amy keeps. Not because she doesn’t trust her friend, quite the opposite, but because Amy promised to others to not tell anyone.

  Just know that I am happier that way than I could ever hope to be the way I am now.

  That’s all she ever wanted, wasn’t it? For Ace to be happy. For Ace to manage to actually put her transition into practice and become the woman she was always supposed to be.

  We will be reunited, I promise.

  Her hands tremble whilst typing these words. She’s happy to deal with almost all the negatives of the programme, such as the isotion and the hard work and high expectations that Eira describes. This catch is different, however. Having to stop all her contact with her friend for the duration of the programme, leaving her in the dark and hurting her doing so.

  At first, they wanted her to make Amy think she was dead. But she couldn’t do that, she really couldn’t, and they had agreed to a wording that would allow Amy to continue having hope whilst the police, uncaring about trans women at the best of times, would just assume that there had been a suicide, or something final along those lines.

  I love you so much, Ayms. You’re the best friend I could have wished for, and you have been so supportive and fun. I hope you’re not too hurt by what I’m about to do.

  Tears stream down her cheeks. Why the fuck did she agree to this? Is it worth transitioning if she loses her best friend, her only friend, the only person who ever understood? She doesn’t have to go to the pick-up location they agreed upon. She doesn’t have to take the deal she was offered.

  But it feels like the only way forward.

  She unlocks her phone, and looks at the picture Eira sent her again. Ace, five years from now. She’s so pretty. As of st week, Alice has a future, a way forward, a promise to possibly reach what she’s always wanted to reach. Amy is supportive, the best person she’s ever met, even, but she is not able to offer Ace what Eira was able to offer her.

  Amy would understand. She always understands. She’d make the same choice, if offered, right? Or maybe not – she never was this desperate.

  Yours forever, Ay.

  She’s finished writing the message and all she has to do now is send it.

  The clock is ticking away but she can’t bring herself to do it. She can’t make herself hurt her best friend. To give up the one thing she has in this world.

  Stupid, selfish Ace.

  She shouldn’t have said yes. She shouldn’t have signed that contract. She shouldn’t have agreed to a location to be picked up. She could have stopped this at so many points, she could still stop this, she could just be a no-show.

  She’s made her bed, and now she must y in it.

  Ace presses enter, turns her computer off before she can see a reaction from Amy and regret her decisions, picks up a jacket and runs off into the night.

  ***

  Is this the right way?

  She’s wandering through a forest just outside of Leeds, trying to find the pick-up location that she had agreed to with Eira st week. It’s pitch-bck outside, she can barely see where she’s walking and has already tripped once. Despite all that, it doesn’t feel like she’s getting any nearer to where she’s supposed to be. It’s supposed to be at a clearing in the forest, near the river, in a pce where no cameras will see them.

  Her guilt is welling up again. Ace was being so incredibly selfish accepting what she was offered. All because she got excited by some photoshopped pictures, overwhelmed by a rather pretty dy, a little horny from the fantasy of being a maid at a manor with a pretty aristocratic dy.

  Is that really better than having Amy?

  There’s a quick ruffle, and Ace is unable to respond before someone has grabbed her. They put blindfold over her eyes, and she wants to shriek, but their assaint also holds a hand over her mouth, pulling her backwards into some kind of vehicle. Whoever caught her sits her down on the left side of what seems to be a car and locks the door before she can alert anyone to what is happening.

  Once they sit down on the other side of the car, Ace is finally able to speak her mind.

  “What the fuck?” Ace says, trying to avoid inducing dysphoria in herself by yelling.

  “Hmm?” The woman, and from the voice it’s obvious that it is a woman, turns a key and starts the car.

  “What the fuck.” Ace repeats. “Am I being kidnapped?”

  “Putting ye out of yer misery, more like.” The woman answered. “Ye’re an absolute disaster, sneaking around like that.”

  “You’re not Eira.” She says to herself, out loud.

  “I should introduce myself, I’m very sorry. My name’s Kelynen. Kay-ee-el-why-en-ee-en. From Penzance. I work for Eira.”

  “Penzance? I thought I could hear a little pirate in there.” Ace sighs, relieved that she’s not in any real trouble. “I’m being kidnapped by a bloody dy pirate.”

  “I’ve commandeered this ship and press-ganged a dy into my crew.” Kelynen taps her fingers on the steering wheel. “Now, let’s go driving, shall we? Wait, I probably should… one second, Alice, darling.” The woman rummages through her bag. “Here it is, gotta be a little careful…”

  Ace feels a pinch in her neck and–

  25 January 2022The horrifically bright and white lights of the room hurt her eyes as she slowly but surely wakes up. The walls are white too. Beige? It’s not like she can see well right now: everything is a bit blotted out still. Ace holds her hands in front of her eyes and tries to accommodate to the environment she finds herself in.

  She looks down at her own body, and finds it horrifically exposed. Whatever was done to her, she was left naked for it, her slender shape and ft chest and outwards facing genitalia now looking back at her.

  Further investigation shows she’s in some kind of medical room, sitting down on a bed. She has had some blood taken as well as an itchy bump in her belly, some kind of injectable, she assumes.

  All around her are various machines – she doesn’t know what kind of machines, but it doesn’t really matter. The only thing she really has to go off is the fact that she agreed to be relocated to Ms. Lambert’s mansion, and that this is presumably part of that mansion, somewhere.

  Ace takes a few slow, cautious steps towards the door. It’s locked, and somehow she expected that it would be. Her eyes dart around the room again, scanning her surroundings for at least something to do, and she finds a tray with a bottle of water and some cereal bars on it. For ck of better things to do, she sits down on a metal chair – which is really cold, she notices! – and takes her time eating and drinking what someone, presumably Kelynen, left her.

  After a moment, she can hear the lock on the door cycling, and she looks around for clothes again in a blind panic. There really are none, so the best she can do to cover herself up is her own arms and hands.

  She freezes as the door opens.

  Three women step into the room. One she can recognise as Eira, as impressively dressed and no-nonsense as the first time she met her a week ago. The woman in the middle could be no one else than Elle Lambert. Ace hadn’t seen an image of her, but the energy of an aristocrat is intense, especially one who isn’t afraid to wear it like she is today: the woman simply emanates the fact that she is both wealthy and in charge. To her left is a woman, simirly stunning, standing a little less tall than the other two, but giving Ace an awkward smile.

  The noblewoman intensely scans her body. “Aren’t you a pretty one, Alice?” Ms. Lambert eventually asks, and Ace has never felt this watched. “Yes, you are. You have much potential.” She quickly adds.

  “Um. Thank you?” Ace, already thoroughly embarrassed, whispers so softly that the others would not be able to hear what she says.

  “Please, stand up straight.” The aristocrat requests. “You don’t have to hide anything from me.”

  “Could I please have some clothes?” Ace whispers a little louder, definitely having things she would prefer to hide for now.

  “Oh, Kelynen, dear, could you please get her something?” Ms. Lambert asks, nodding towards Alice. “It’d be a shame if she got too cold.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Kelynen says, quickly but gracefully leaving the room.

  “It’s lovely to meet you, Alice Howells.”

  Elle smiles at her, and Ace remembers she was asked to stand up straight. She straightens her back, holds her hands behind her back, and looks Elle Lambert in the eyes.

  “Much better! I like it when women are confident in themselves, in who they are, and can stand tall and proud in front of others.” Ms. Lambert adds.

  “I’m none of those things, ma’am.” Ace admits, any confidence broken and repced with an embarrassed blush, even if she maintains her posture.

  “Oh. Don’t worry, none of the girls who ended up here were all too confident initially. But once they leave, my dear Alice, they will be some of the most beautiful women in the world, and nobody will ever be able to break that confidence of theirs ever again.” Elle Lambert says, pausing when Eira leans forward to whisper something in her ear. “But I am afraid that it is time for me to leave the manor already; I have a meeting to attend to. Very important business, you see.”

  “Nice to, um, meet you, ma’am.” Ace puts all her remaining confidence and energy into those few words.

  “It was an honour, Ms. Howells.” Elle smiled, walking out of the room with Eira, Kelynen holding the door open for them, a basket in her hands.

  “Thank you, Lulu.” Eira says, leaving alongside her boss.

  Once the sound of heels tapping against concrete leaves the hallway, Kelynen joins the two in the room, pcing the small basket filled with clothes on a table in a corner of the room.

  “So? What do ye think of Ms. Lambert?” Kelynen asks.

  “Um.” Ace isn’t sure where to even begin with that.

  “Ye can just say she is a lot.” The woman ughs. “Because she is.”

  She blushes. “Ms. Lambert indeed is, then.”

  “Welcome to Brenin Manor, Alice.” Kelynen smiles. “Or would ye prefer I say Ace?”

  “I’m not Alice yet.” She sighs. “I’m here to become her.”

  “Ye’re merely Ace, aye. Got it. Ye know, usually we wouldn’t put up too much with things like that. But in yer case, I’ll give ye a little while to get used to the fact that the other sponsors will be calling ye Alice. And the name is the only concession I’ll be giving ye on that front.”

  “Sponsors?” Ace looks at Kelynen, puzzled. “Like, you pay for our…”

  “El- Ms. Lambert is the sponsor, in that sense. We inherited the name from another operation of Ms. Lambert’s.” She smiles. “Sorry I can’t give ye more than that, dear.”

  “Um. So what are sponsors, then?”

  “We’re a bunch of old rots who stick around here to help ye girls grow into the best women you can be. Teach ye how to be women, how to be…” She adjusts her voice and slips into the Queen’s. “Very cssy dies worthy of high company…” she returns to her usual Cornish dialect. “And how ye can maintain the property and such.”

  Ace nods. “Okay. I was told it’s an intensive programme.”

  “Aye. Ye’ll see.” Kelynen stands up and takes her hand. “Each girl in the programme gets one sponsor assigned to them. And I’m yers.”

  “Okay. Hi. Um. I’m Ace.” Ace holds out a hand tenderly.

  “No, it’s nice to meet ye, Ace.” Kelynen smiles, taking her hand and shaking it. “It’s an amazing job to be able to help ye become who ye were supposed to be all along. To tell God or whoever decided you couldn’t be to fuck off.”

  She blushes, unsure what to say to that.

  “So. I do have to give ye some bad news.” Kelynen stands up and bites her lip. “We’re going to wait with the estradiol for a few weeks.”

  “I thought– but–” Ace stammers over her words. She wants the estradiol now! They told her she would get hormone repcement therapy!

  “I know.” She helps Ace sit down. “How they expined it to me, when I went through the programme, is that the first month or so ye’re only on anti-androgens, ye lose a stone or so, and then they give ye oestrogen and a bit more to eat. Good for yer tits and yer hips and such.”

  “You went through the programme? Didn’t you want the oestradiol immediately?” Ace pleads.

  “I went through an earlier variant of the programme, and I certainly didn’t approve of the… timetable at the time.” She looks away, as if she’s trying to hide something from Ace. “You’ll be on estradiol faster than I was.”

  “But, does it work? Like, will I, uh, become prettier doing it this way?”

  “Ye don’t get a figure like this without putting some work into it, darling.” Kelynen shows off a little, with her modest but well-developed chest, slender waist and prominent hips. “But ye’ll get there, okay? Promise.”

  Ace looks down at the floor, feeling pathetic about this all. They lied to her. They said she would get HRT once she is in the programme. ‘First an anti-androgen,’ Eira’d said, ‘and then oestrogen too.’

  But maybe it was her fault for assuming it would come within seconds, rather than weeks. Perhaps they didn’t lie, and they were very careful with their nguage, and then she just made assumptions she shouldn’t have rather than asking questions like they told her she should.

  “But!” Kelynen smiles. “I’ve got good news too.” In front of her, Kelynen holds knickers and a sports bra. “These are for ye, darling. Sorry for leaving ye naked that long.”

  “Um.” Ace blushes. “I don’t want to look like a–”

  “Ye won’t.” She responds quickly.

  “Do you not have my old clothes?” Ace bargains.

  “That old hoodie? We threw it in the bin. When we carried ye through that door, you committed to a life of living as a woman even when it’s uncomfortable. You’ll have to get over it one day or another.”

  “Wh–”

  “Sorry, darling. I know it’s not as easy as you’d want it to be.”

  Ace looks at the underwear, takes it, and slowly starts putting it on. It feels good, in a way, but she knows that seeing a mirror at this point would probably just send her spiralling.

  “And here’s yer uniform.” Kelynen holds a totally stereotypical bck and white maid dress in front of Ace, including semi-transparent bck leggings.

  “I can’t.” Ace insists. “This is too much.”

  “Ye’ll have to.” Her sponsor says. “I had to do it too, as did the other girls in the programme.”

  “But–”

  “No buts.” Kelynen crosses her arms. “You will present feminine. And for the first years, that means uniforms like this, or appropriate dresses.”

  “I’ll–”

  “Alice Howells.” She says, now sounding strict.“You will wear the uniform, do you understand?”

  “N–”

  “That’s not a ‘yes’. I want to hear a ‘yes’. And you’re lucky it’s not a ‘yes ma’am’ yet.” Kelynen shakes her head. “You know, this most wise woman once told me that if you give trans women an inch, they’ll steal ten years from themselves. And I don’t want you to steal those ten years from yourself, darling.”

  Ace just stares, fbbergasted at what’s happening.

  “I’ll count to three, darling. If you don’t agree before then, I’ll be forced to go for punishment, and if you remember your contract, you consented to giving us that power for insubordination.” She steps up towards Ace, looking down at the girl trembling under her.

  What the fuck has she signed up for? Does she really want to do this?

  “One.”

  She agreed to this. She signed the contract. She allowed herself to be brought here.

  “Two.” Kelynen softly pushes her against the wall.

  The programme wasn’t supposed to be easy. Or comfortable. That’s what Eira said. It was supposed to turn her into a woman, by all means avaible. And that includes this, apparently.

  “Thr-”

  “Yes.” Ace gives in. “I’ll wear it.”

  Kelynen leans forward, presses Ace’s back against the wall even more tightly, and whispers in her ear.

  “Good girl.”