[Week 1.2]

Luna took a deep breath and tried to keep calm. Miriam had warned them about unusual education methods, but the shock of seeing that violence applied so suddenly and aggressively to Claire was difficult. And being sent away entirely…

Miriam stood at the front of the room, a cruel goddess enforcing her will. The look she gave them could stop a charging bull. “I will be kind. I will take care of you. I will not tolerate a challenge to my authority.”

She let out a breath, and looked just a bit more human again.

“Claire needs a kind of support right now that she cannot get in this lesson,” she said, “her being sent out is not a punishment.” She twirled the cane in her hand. “If one of you had done something similar, you would have been placed against the wall and caned, and then held and forgiven your mistake.”

That wasn’t–actually somehow that did sound better. Maybe because the idea of Miriam being angry enough to send her away was worse than pain? Or maybe it was the forgiveness?

Miriam didn’t give them a chance to ask further questions, and Luna didn’t want to risk her ire by interrupting. Instead, Allyson returned helped teach one of the most basic lessons: how to kneel.

“There’s actually multiple forms to this,” Miriam explained, “and yes, you will be expected to learn all of them.”

She flashed a signal with her hand and Allyson floated to the ground. The motion was smooth, both legs at once with only a slight rocking motion as the senior servant got her feet underneath her butt. When she stopped moving, she sat with her knees together, palms flat on her thighs, toes touching in the back. Her back was straight, her shoulders pulled back, and her face tilted slightly down.

Miriam tapped the shoulder with her cane. “This is your everyday kneel, also called seiza. Notice how she’s got good posture, but she isn’t tense.” She kept walking around the kneeling supplicant. “You’ll find this hard at first, usually because your legs fall asleep or grow uncomfortable. Sometimes it’s the feet.” She turned and faced them. “Someone like Allyson can hold this position for hours.”

Miriam snapped a finger and made another hand gesture. Allyson widened her legs, placed her palms up on them, and somehow radiated openness. Luna struggled to describe it, but it was enchanting. And attractive.

“It’s in the slight rise of the chest,” Miriam answered, “and in genuinely feeling the desire to give all of herself.”

Luna nodded, then caught herself. It was spooky how fast Miriam ‘reading their minds’ was becoming normal for her.

Miriam took a step forward, leaving Allyson behind her. “Now you all try it.”

Luna took a deep breath and tried to ignore the rising anxiety. How could she match that grace? What if her tucked bulge showed? She’d just do her best. She tried sinking to her knees, lost her balance, and landed on her right hand.

Persephone did it in one go–not as smoothly as Allyson, but still impressive. Becca looked smoother than Lunda had felt, but also slipped at the end.

She wanted to try again, but Miriam was already walking over. She glanced at Allyson and tried to copy the way her legs and arms looked.

Miriam stopped in front of her. Her face was friendly but stern. “Much wider.” The cane gently tapped the inside of her thighs.

Luna scooted her legs out a bit and got a disapproving shake of the head. Two more rapid taps, this time more painful. She tried a little more, but her bulge grew more prominent with every inch. The distress over her anatomy started to build. She couldn’t, she couldn’t, but she also couldn’t find the words to say something.

How do you tell someone you’ve just met, who has so much power over you, about the part of you you despise the most? To bring attention to it–by kneeling wider or by talking?

Two more searing sharp lines, this time enough to make her flinch. She looked up with tears in her eyes. Miriam was already bent own, looking at her.

The minder’s eyes scanned down her face. The non-cane hand touched her neck. Luna felt Miriam stare into her soul. The gaze turned sympathetic, and she nodded. “I’m going to be stricter about this next week.” A brush of her hand through Luna’s hair softened the blow. The minder rose without another word.

Luna shook a little as Miriam moved towards Becca and Persephone. She felt like she’d been seen through, though she didn’t quite know how. The entire exchange had been distressing, but somehow Miriam had backed off when she couldn’t anymore. And for that, Luna’s entire being flooded with gratitude.

Both Becca and Persephone got corrections. Becca for slouching her shoulders too far forwards, Persephone for not having her feet together in the back. But neither struggled as much as she had.

Afterwards, Miriam drilled them between positions. Allyson showed it first, and did it with a grace that still took Luna’s breath away. She felt like a fat drunk trying to repeat it, but Miriam stayed gentle with them. For now, all she enforced was getting the final position right, and over time that did actually become easier for them.

Luna focused for the next twenty minutes, trying to reach Miriam’s ever rising standard. She glanced at the others. Becca and Persephone looked so graceful already, and Luna’s insecurity gave her another kick in the gut. She was so big and bulky, not small and cute–

Miriam abruptly looked at her from across the room. The intensity of the gaze ran through Luna like a lightning bolt.

“Attention on me, Luna,” she rebuked, “no getting lost in your head.”

Once the adrenaline dissipated, Luna resolved to stay present. and spent the rest of the lesson trying to focus on drills and movement and subtle details instead of looking to her right, instead of thinking about how she felt about her body. It mostly worked. She lost herself in the motions, in the striving.

There was something unifying, too, about spending that time trying to match Becca and Persephone and all the other Delta Sigma servants. It made her feel like part of something. The prespect of belonging clawed at her heart, demanding entry. It felt almost too good to be true.

That made the end of the next hour come rather quickly.

Miriam gave them some positive words and they put their street clothes back on. Luna slipped her regular pants over the yoga shorts instead.

Miriam instructed them on the rest of their day. The whole time, Allyson knelt. She hadn’t moved from her spot next to Miriam since the lesson wound down. Miriam ignored her and kept talking.

“Alright you three, good job today,” she spoke with a relaxed smile, “from here you have some time to chill in the living room. If you brought homework, you’re free to work on it, but we’d gently encourage you to socialize as well. You’ll be grabbed when it’s your turn with Jacqueline.”

They filed out. Luna looked back in as she closed the door–Allyson was kneeling against Miriam’s leg, while Miriam gently played with her hair. Something about that… a surge of want ran through Luna.

She didn’t linger and made it back down the stairs. She’d barely had time to check her phone when Allison came downstairs.

“Slight schedule change,” she explained, “Luna you’re up.”

There was a moment of anxiety, but if there was anything the last 24 hours had showed, it was that she was reasonably safe as long as she earnestly followed directions. ‘Reasonably’ and ‘earnestly’ weren’t the greatest of safety blankets, but they’d have to do.

She followed Allyson up to one of the “bedrooms” the sorority had converted into an office. The person awaiting her was as tall as she was and absolutely stunning. Luna felt a moment of envy, but it was washed away almost immediately the woman’s radiant kindness. The cuff on her wrist marked her as a minder.

Where Miriam was unpredictable, a barely contained box of energy, she projected a calm, gentle strength. Luna’s lizard brain felt immediately more at ease.

The room itself was appointed like a therapist’s office. The minder sat in a comfy looking recliner with some suspiciously placed pillows on the floor next to it. Across from the recliner stood a long sofa in a modern grey color. There was also a desk tucked into a corner by the window. The room wasn’t drowning in as many plants as the living room, but still held enough to make the space cozy.

Luna was about to ask where to sit, but the minder, who she realized must be Jacqueline, preempted her with an open palmed gesture. “Where would you feel most comfortable?”

The sophomore sat on the couch before the subtext of the question caught up to her. That sitting on furniture wasn’t just better–a privilege reserved for minders to distribute–that she actually might feel more comfortable on the floor… it didn’t make sense at first.

And then she remembered Allyson, at the end of ballet class. The bliss on her face, the comfort in Miriam’s touch. Could she just… have that here? Touch from this emblem of poise and strength and womanhood in front of her? She felt that desire again, but felt too awkward to move now. But she promised herself she would try next time.

If Jacqueline had seen the conflict play out on her face, she didn’t comment on it. Instead, she grabbed a clipboard from the small table next to her recliner.

“Before we can get to anything else, we need to have the conversation we were supposed to have this morning: What do you know about dominance and submission?”

“I’m not the most online trans girl, but I’ve been on discord.” That earned her a chuckle from Jacqueline, but she continued. “It’s a kink thing, where one person gives power to another. Kind of like being someone’s pet. Miss.”

“That’s not inaccurate.” Jacqueline smiled that disarming smile. “And we do actually have a puppy that you’ll get to meet sometime.”

“Dominance and submission, or D/s is the deliberate practice of giving and taking control. It’s often also called power exchange, or sometimes authority transfer. Humans naturally give and take control–think about having an emotional breakdown at a party, and having a friend guide you to a private corner and hold you and take care of you.”

Luna hadn’t ever been close enough to people or community for that to happen, but she let Jacqueline continue.

“We do that, but more deliberately and more intensely. No one here is any less important, though some choose to see themselves that way. What Allyson does is just as important as what I do. We’re two parts of a greater whole. But Allyson is comfortable serving and being directed, and I’m comfortable providing strength and guidance.”

Jacqueline stopped talking and seemed to expect some kind of response.

Luna briefly flailed for something to say. “That sounds cool, I guess?”

“Most people ask if this is some kind of sex thing,” Jacqueline redirected.

Luna’s eyes widened, and she stammered. “Ahh, well, that makes sense too?”

“It’s an interesting question because it definitely comes up in sex for most people,” Jacquline continued, and Luna realized she was probably getting something scripted–or at least something the minder considered was important enough to force. “But overall the answer is very much no. A friend of mine actually compared it to her experience transitioning–for most people sex is a part of it, and for some people sex is where they first notice that gender is a thing for them, but it’s a pretty big investment to make given most of the time you won’t be fucking.”

Luna gave her the situationally appropriate chuckle, and Jaqueline went on.

“I’d say we do it for comfort and for intimacy. For many people who end up here this is a more natural way of existing–we ask you about traumas for a reason. For others… there’s a closeness in this practice that’s unmatched by anything else. We find that alignment and unity… useful.”

Luna found herself nodding, but finally figured out her question. “I’m still… not clear on what exactly that means? Like I know I’m supposed to listen when you tell me to do things, but it feels like this is supposed to go much deeper?”

Jacqueline gave her that disarming smile again. “Minders and servants are very general terms. I think someone a long time ago thought they were hot. You’ll learn how you fit into this with time. But we are confident you’ll fit into it. For now, your job is to be open, to let yourself be guided, to show deference, and to sink into the role we’re shaping you for.”

“That doesn’t really…” Luna trailed off.

Jacqueline looked at the flower pot next to Luna as she thought.

“That’s fair,” she ultimately said. “Servants take direction, and focus their will around the minders. Minders give direction, and mold and guide the servants. I know that doesn’t sound very different from what I’ve already said, but that’s because everyone here is so unique. Someone like Neha is a very different servant from one of our house pets.”

She picked up the clipboard and added: “Eventually, you’ll figure out which one is right for you. Or someone else will.”

She handed Luna the paperwork.

“This is a survey we regularly have our members take,” she explained, “it covers everything from kinks to emotional needs to ‘need-to-knows’ for interacting with you.”

The form was a whopping five pages. The first two were dedicated to understanding her emotional responses. How would she feel if she were gagged? What about being ignored? Being the center of attention? She wasn’t sure how some of these were connected to what Jacqueline had been talking about at all, but tried to answer them honestly anyway.

Then came a page asking about traumatic experiences, memories, triggers. Whether she’d been in therapy. How she thought trauma impacted her interpersonal relationships.

That page was easy: She just wrote “TRANS” in big letters at the top. Then she thought better of it, and tried to go into the isolation being trans caused, the way it had come between her and her more conservative immigrant parents, the way she’d had to hide it from her friends at Chinese school, and how even now she struggled.

She tried to condense it into short bullet points, but it still spilled out of the provided lines and to the bottom of the page. There wasn’t any room left, was this too much? Should she go on? Jacqueline had said to take guidance. She took a breath.

“You… Do you want me to write more? Miss?” She asked. She showed Jacqueline the filled page on her clipboard.

Jacqueline leant forward and scanned it quickly. “You’re not the first trans person we’ve had, nor the only trans person currently in our little family. I think it’s important we understand how your experience might be not typical or how other experiences might intersect with it. If you’ve done that, no need for another page. We’ll talk about it as well–I keep notes on everyone that you’ll eventually also have access to.”

“Mmmmm,” Luna considered as she took the clipboard back, “I already covered the Asian-American bit, I think this is fine?”

The reassuring smile came back. “Alright, continue then.”

The next page was about her insecurities. Well that was going to be a long list.

She started with her gender. Not being a real girl, not fitting in at a place like Delta Sigma, being accepted only as some kind of pity case. Then she moved on to her body. Feeling ugly compared to her peers, not being able to imagine ever being as pretty or graceful as someone like Allyson or Isabelle, being this giant square hunk of disgusting masculinity. That filled up half the page, and Luna wanted to crawl under a blanket and cry.

But she needed to be comprehensive, so she kept going. She wrote about being weird, the way she sometimes missed social cues. Then she added a bit about being worried that she’d missed some things, since she’d only really been able to start working through things last year when she’d finally been free of her childhood and able to start being herself, and honestly the school’s mental health counselors weren’t the most effective therapists in her experience either. She hoped that would be enough.

Just in case she wrote “insecure about not knowing all of my insecurities” at the bottom.

Looking at the page was hard. Suppressing the desire to hide and weep was hard. She tried to keep going and made it to the last page. But it only had a single simple question.

What are your strengths, and what do you want from your time in Delta Sigma?

There was so much care in the question. Somehow that feeling combined with the pain of facing her insecurities. Luna still wanted to cry, but the urge to hide lessened. She might be safe here.

Then the shame came back—she didn’t know what to write.

She stared at the page, frozen. Then she wrote “Computers.” She couldn’t leave it there, all alone. She dug deep, tried to find her one positive self thought. She thought about all the effort she’d spent in the last year, transitioning and learning to be herself. Then she wrote “I try very hard.”

She thought another moment, and added “Not having enough strengths” to her list of insecurities.

What did she want from Delta Sigma?

She thought for a moment, then realized at least that answer was easy.

Belonging.

Jacqueline gave her another one of her comforting smiles when she took the clipboard back.

“Good job on this Luna.” She briefly scanned through the pages. “And don’t worry, this form is only a small part of us getting to know you.”

She glanced back up. “We’ll find your strengths.”

They talked a bit about her answers, but very quickly it became time to Jacqueline to talk to Becca. Luna got ready to leave, but Jacqueline came over and pulled her up into a hug. The minder’s right hand crawled up her back and pushed her head into the soft, fancy sweater covering Jacqueline’s shoulder.

The need to cry abated a little more.

“Welcome to the family, Luna,” Jacqueline said, “you belong here, and you’ll always belong here.”

They stayed that way for a moment as the affirmation sank into Luna’s soul. Other people–her friends in the Mentors in STEM organization for example–had said plenty of nice things to her. But this felt more real somehow, more significant. Maybe because of her earlier vulnerability? Maybe because of the way Jacqueline held her, like nothing could make her let go? Maybe the position of authority that Jacqueline now held in her life made the affirmation more powerful?

She’d hopefully understand someday, but for now she basked in the warmth of her superior.

Jacqueline gently released her and guided her towards the door. She opened the door for her as well, then handed her off to Allyson, who was already there with an anxious looking Becca. They traded charges, and Allyson guided Luna back to the living room.

The future minders had come back from their morning activity as well.

What happened next was automatic, instinctive. Luna didn’t even really think about it. There was just a pillow, and Diana’s leg, and–exhausted from her meeting with Jacqueline–Luna just plopped down onto it and leaned against Diana.

It wasn’t until Diana started petting her head that she’d realized what she’d done. She’d repeated last night—the way they’d sat during the movie. She’d done the thing she feared in her meeting with Jacqueline. And in doing she’d given vulnerability, given submission. Just like Jacqueline had described earlier.

And just like last night, Diana wasn’t rejecting her.

She dared a glance up. The future Minder was lost in her calculus homework, the petting just as idle and instinctive as Luna sitting on the floor cushion. It felt good. She leaned over to grab her backpack, took out her homework, and started going through her algorithms assignment.

The next two hours passed in a comfortable blur as new members came and went from their one-on-one meetings. There was little conversation–everyone had too much homework–but the shared space and communal energy were absolutely enchanting. It felt so casual, so easy. It was everything Luna had been missing in her life.

At 5pm it was time for her last agenda item, a meeting with Neha where they would discuss her schedule. Isabelle found her a few minutes before and lead her to another converted office. This one was smaller and lacked a couch. Instead, it contained a much larger desk, with a very formal looking Neha sitting behind it, and a single chair. On the wall was a picture of the Delta Sigma house and some abstract art. An all-in-one printer sat in the corner, completing the professional look.

Neha wore the same blazer and slacks combination she’d worn at every other moment in the initiation so far, though today she wore an extra ribbon on her neck. Last time it had only been her plain black collar. Luna imagined this was what a lawyer’s office would feel like.

Someone had apparently agreed, because there was a certificate hanging by the wall confirming that Neha was a “Very Good Calendar Manager” signed by at least ten different names.

As she walked up to the chair, she saw a printed copy of her schedule already laid out on the desk. Whether or not the certificate was meant as humiliation, Neha evidently took it seriously.

Neha flipped her laptop shut as Luna sat down. The servant-manager gave her an almost impersonal smile. “Hello miss, welcome to your first scheduling session.”

Neha hadn’t talked much during their introduction, or in the brief time they’d spent as new members. Her tone was crisp, professional, and carried exactly the inflection and cadence she expected from a personal assistant. It had to be deliberate.

“I’ve already been in touch with the school and you’ve been placed in an ASL class that will meet three times a week, miss.” Neha pointed to boxes on the calendar with her pen as she spoke. “Twice during the week and once on the weekend you’ll also have Ballet and Etiquette here at the house. You’re scheduled for once a week with both myself—that’s this session—as well as Miriam. You’ll be attending a personal training session once a week, and go to the gym two more times besides that.”

She waited for for Luna to absorb. When Luna said nothing, she put her pen down. “Session with Jacqueline are not on your calendar, miss, but you can request them and we’ll fit them in. As you can see the rest of your time is divided between classwork, time with Delta Sigma, and recuperation.”

Luna sat there in a daze. Miriam had mentioned this would happen, but that didn’t at all prepare her for the reality of it. Everything was here, her entire life, set out hour by hour in explicit detail.

“Any questions, miss?” Neha asked.

“Umm, this doesn’t have any time on it for Mentors in STEM.”

Neha made a professionally concerned face. “I’m sorry, miss, I wasn’t aware you were still participating in that club. Generally we ask that our members spend their pledge semester focusing on Delta Sigma, but if you have major existing obligations we can work around that.”

Luna grimaced and looked away. “I’m their treasurer.”

“I see,” Neha said.

She shuffled some papers around and summoned a notepad. She placed her pen on it, then looked up at Luna. “I do have to ask, miss, is there a particular reason you failed to mention them in your rush week packet?”

Luna’s cheeks turned red. “I hadn’t agreed to do it yet then.” She squirmed in her seat a little.

Neha had been jotting notes, but now she was just looking at her. The silence felt awkward to Luna, intimidating even, but then again so many things did. It didn’t seem to bother Neha.

“Alright,” the secretary finally said, “we’ll add them to the calendar this week, but understand that this is not a settled issue from our side, miss.”

Luna nodded, still staring at the table.

Neha pushed the copy of the schedule to her. It had pen annotations covering two two hour blocks for Mentors in STEM. One was during their weekly meeting time, the other was marked “treasurer business.”

“You’ll receive an invite to a google calendar that will have all of this digitally as well, miss. That’s all for today, miss.” Neha reopened her laptop and stopped paying Luna any attention.

Luna drifted back into the living room. She mechanically tortured some homework while she tried to process. There was the strange attitude, the rigorous schedule, the contrast with Jacqueline. It all sort of buzzed in her skull.

Eventually it became clear ‘weird things just happen here’ was as far as she was going to get, and she did her best to dive back into algorithms.

Gradually, others headed home, finished their evenings, but the idea of leaving, of going back to her dorm room alone, it felt wrong somehow.

She’d have to be brave.

Eventually it was only her and Persephone as pledges–she seemed to have gotten lost in an essay and completely missed that others were leaving. Luna poked her head up from her math textbook to stare at Isabelle. The older servant sat at the corner desk, working, but she didn’t seem absorbed.

“Would you like to come with, miss?” she tried, “I’m going to head back to the Southside dorms.”

None of the other upper classmen were around. It was just Isabelle, watching them while she did her own homework. Miriam and Neha must still be around somewhere as well–she hadn’t seen them leave. But they weren’t here to ask.

Isabelle smiled at her, a completely normal, disarming smile. “I still have some duties at the house, but if you’d like I’ll ask for Miriam’s permission?”

Luna smiled and nodded. Not a rejection.

She prodded Persephone and invited her as well. The fellow freshman was as interested in making upperclassmen friends as she was, and so a few minutes later their group was ready to leave.

They headed out the door, Isabelle walking a strange sort of zigzag through the front yard of the sorority house. Luna decided not to ask, and stuck to a safer topic: “How’d you end up at Delta Sigma?”

The junior looked thoughtful for a moment, staring at an object above them that wasn’t really there. “I guess I wanted a place to belong and feel safe. Not so different from everybody else, I think?”

Luna nodded and mentally kicked herself. That question had been a conversational dead end.

Luckily Persephone picked things up for her. “What was hardest, back when you were a new member?”

“Understanding that I could let go,” the senior minder said, “and that they would catch me.”

There was a moment of silence. Luna had expected–and she imagined Perse as well–something about schedules, or the difficulty of needing to serve more senior members, or maybe Miriam’s very particular demands in ballet.

“What…” Luna searched for words. “What does that mean?”

Isabelle just smiled. “You’ll see.”

—

The next morning, Luna woke up to find a package sitting in her room. Once again there was no sign of forced entry. This time she’d actually been in the room too. Did Delta Sigma employ ghosts? She expected to feel more distress, but Isabelle or Jacqueline looking over her in her sleep… it sounded kind of cute. She grabbed her bathrobe to go shower, but first she paused to open it.

It was a set of gaffs from an Etsy shop. Someone—probably Allyson or Miriam—had noticed her discomfort around tucking. Shower forgotten, she tried them on right away.

They fit perfectly. They looked exactly like regular underwear from the outside and gave her a smoother front than anything she’d tried herself. She almost couldn’t believe it. No more bulge.

The waves of acceptance and gratitude and being seen and belonging and acceptance bubbled up through her like an unending geyser, and she barely managed to text Miriam her gratitude before the tears started to fall.

They’d get her vulnerability, her loyalty, all of it. They’d get everything, if they could keep making her feel like this. Feel accepted, appreciated, loved.

She got ready for the day, almost floating through her morning routine. For her final step, she went to pick up her white collar.

And somehow it almost seemed to glow a little bit blue.