[Week 3.5]

When she’d talked to Neha about her schedule for this week, the assistant had required her to clear space on Tuesday afternoon for an event simply titled “clothes”. Luna hadn’t dared to walk into a clothing store more than twice since she started taking hormones, so she desperately hoped this would be something more private. Even so, there was little she could do besides wait and find out. Now it was Tuesday. Her anxiety had simmered at a medium heat from the moment she woke up, and her brain was catastrophizing up a storm. What if they criticized her lack of style? What if they made her do a fashion show in front of the entire school?

Despite the anxiety, she made it to the Erickson Cafe with time to spare. Miriam was already there, sitting in a corner, with an unknown sister sitting next to her. She wore a black collar. Luna fingered her own white one. A servant, just like her.

Luna approached the table, trying to muster all the grace she’d been practicing. They’d started working on hand signs in etiquette class, and Luna made the one for requesting permission to sit. Miriam, in a much more graceful and practiced motion, flashed permission and graced her with a smile. Luna sat. Miriam and the stranger continued their conversation as if she didn’t exist.

The conversation continued, and an alchemical reaction began inside Luna. The anxiety of what might happen today found fertile ground in Luna’s reduced status—what if they really were mad at her for her admittedly unrefined choice of fashion? Meanwhile being ignored by her superiors played into an entirely different set of emotions.

She found herself clawing desperately for that sense of acceptance that sometimes came to her when she was on her knees around the minders. Last week they’d discussed the power of mantras, and Luna tried to create one on the spot. She began repeating the phrase to herself, just in her brain.

“It’s not your place to worry about what will happen.”

As she ran it through her mind it over and over again, a warm haze started to descend over her thoughts. She felt a hint of acceptance, and swam towards it with all her might. She was where she was supposed to be, serving, being controlled. The words of the conversation washed over her and Luna sat, there but not really there, awaiting instruction.

Miriam and the other girl both looked at Luna at the same time, and the shock was enough to bring Luna back to the present. Miriam spoke first.

“Hello little sub, good girl for floating while your betters talked.” The edge of loving condescension almost knocked Luna right back under, but it was clear her minder wanted her attention.

Luna struggled for a moment to phrase the question right. “What would you like from me, miss?”

Miriam took a glance at the slightly older servant, who reflected back the calm deference that Luna had come to expect from full-fledged sisters.

“Today, little kit, we’re going to do something all new members eventually do, though you’re doing it first.” Miriam pointed to the girl in the black choker. “This is Angelle, she’s what you might consider our fashion expert. We’re taking you shopping.”

The pronouncement was a bucket of cold water over Luna. She looked down at her dysphoria hoodie and her skinny jeans. It wasn’t the only thing she wore, but she had to admit it was the most frequent. She’d only managed to keep up her “performance”—if you could call dressing like a normal college girl a performance—a few more times after that first day.

She was going to fail here, to disappoint Miriam and Angelle and ruin everything. There was no way she was going to survive a shopping trip. No way she was going to fulfill whatever demands Miriam and Angelle were about to place on her. No way they wouldn’t realize it had been a mistake to take a monstrosity like her.

A hand on her arm dragged her back to the present.

Miriam stared at her, gentle, strong kindness radiating from her eyes. “Were you worried about your anxiety around shopping, or about failing us by being anxious while shopping?”

There was an arrogance to it, a claim ‘I know what you’re thinking, down to two possibilities’, but also an assurance. ‘I know what you’re thinking, I’m in control.’

Luna felt the knot in her chest unwind. “The second one, miss.”

Miriam gave a quick nod, then pinned Luna with her eyes. “I want you to take that fear, and hand it to me. This is an exercise in submission, just like we’ve been practicing. You will be open, you will be honest, you will let me see and you will let me control. Angelle and I will make sure you make it safely to the other side.”

She gave the other servant a smile. “This won’t be easy, but this is… how many trans people you’ve helped with this, Angelle?”

“Trans people overall, seven, transfemmes, five—not all of them in Delta Sig, miss.” Somehow her smile projected both confidence and demure submission. Luna tried to understand how it worked.

“Good hands.” Miriam smiled that relaxing smile again. “Normally it would just be you and her, but because this is so much more than just any old shopping trip for you, I’ll be there as well. We know what we’re doing. We know how to handle you. Trust us, and let go.”

Let go. The confidence and certainty brought back just a hint of the earlier haze. She latched onto it, and let the blanket of submission warm her. “Yes, miss,” she murmured.

They took a white Prius to a Nordstrom 15 minutes away. Campus was in a rather walkable downtown with plenty of public transit and absurd parking fees. Being driven somewhere felt special. Probably also because it was the sort of off-campus trip that Luna had been left out of all of last year.

They parked in the attached garage and made their way to the store. With each step, Luna’s anxiety made a resurgence. By the time they got to the elevator, she was shaking. Miriam ignored it until the elevator doors closed.

Luna barely had time to blink before her back was against the wall. She was taller than both Miriam and Angelle, but somehow Miriam still looked down on her. Everything suddenly felt saturated—the cold metal texture of the elevator, the hand grasping her throat, the outstretched leg caging her in, the fierce brown eyes staring her down. Miriam turned her head to a slight angle and moved in on hers. For a brief heart stopping second, Luna thought they might kiss.

Instead Miriam shifted to the side as she closed the distance, rubbed her cheek against Luna’s in a slow, sensual glide, then faintly brushed Luna’s ear with her lips.

“Oh, you wish I had kissed you, don’t you?” she purred, “That I’d taken you right here, in a public elevator? We do that sometimes, you know? Turn servants into our own little play things.”

A hand brushed up the inside of Luna’s leg, just barely missing her crotch, then went up her side, teasing her way past her chest. Luna couldn’t think. There was only Miriam, her presence and her hands, her closeness and her heat. She was pinned to the wall like a butterfly behind glass, one Miriam might take out to play with however she chose. Setting her alight, fanning the fire in her chest, her entire body, trying to consume her.

“Servants do that too. Service us in other ways. And when they do I personally love soft little things like you, all open and anxious and unsure of yourselves.” She pulled away just slightly. “So remember that, every time you feel anxious, every time you feel scared. It’s just bringing that day closer.”

She took a step back, suddenly perfectly composed. All that remained on Luna was Miriam’s right hand. It brushed down Luna’s shoulder, to her forearm, to her wrist. Not quite holding, but anchoring. Offering Luna the grounding to come back to herself, to try and make sense of the endorphins coursing through her body.

d

There was a ding, and the elevator opened. Angelle and Miriam both looked completely relaxed. Luna tried her best to walk and act like someone who hasn’t just been spiritually ravaged in an elevator.

As she did, she realized that she’d forgotten to be nervous.

The size of the store quickly overwhelmed Luna, but Angelle seemed to know where to go. Luna learned quickly that Miriam’s order to let herself be led was going to be easier to follow than she thought. They walked past racks and racks of clothing, and Luna had just decided to ask why they weren’t looking through things when Angelle brought them into the dressing rooms.

Luna found herself shepherded into a large cabin by Angelle, even as Miriam blocked the door. Angelle spoke her first word since the car.

“Strip.”

Luna’s eyes widened, and she looked to Miriam for aid. Unfortunately her minder just raised her eyebrows.

Programming took over. “Y-yes miss.”

She decided to take her top off first. Her embarrassment about her early development boobs paled in comparison to what she felt about her crotch. Shaky hands removed the oversized sweater, then the career fair t-shirt. It came off like the peel of a rotten banana.

She looked up, Miriam leaned back against the door, one foot kicked up against it, like she was watching the most normal thing in the world. Angelle observed Luna, but wore the calm relaxed mask typical of Delta Sigma servants. The lack of feedback, positive or negative, somehow made Luna feel even more on the spot.

She couldn’t delay any longer, so she took off one sneaker at a time, then shimmied down her jeans. She thought she saw the slightest hint of a smile when Miriam noticed she was wearing one of the gaffs Delta Sigma had delivered to her dorm room.

She gave Miriam a pleading look, but got nothing in response. She took off her bra, took a deep breath. Felt tears well up as the shame began to overwhelm her, but still moved her hands to take off her gaff.

A gentle touch from Angelle stopped her. She was holding a measuring tape. “You can keep these on. Arms wide please.” Luna put her arms out, and the tape started with the span of her shoulders.

Luna was still reeling from almost needing to remove her gaff. She looked at Miriam amidst her confusion. Her minder’s face showed nothing, but it still took Luna only another second to realize she’d been tested. How far was she willing to go? And how much would it hurt her?

Her emotions were too jumbled to make sense of that insight. She hoped her fear and shame and willingness to obey anyway would give Miriam some satisfaction. Maybe she should be angry? She closed her eyes, tried to ground herself.

When she opened them, she realized that Angelle was already down to measuring her legs. Amidst relief and confusion from being allowed to keep her gaff, she’d completely forgetten to be self conscious about the rest of her body.

Luna had been played. She looked back at Miriam, shock on her face, only to find her smirking. She knew Luna knew, and she was gloating. For a moment Luna wanted to smack her.

But she’d been played. By Miriam and Angelle. To move her steadily through a difficult experience in a way that was completely out of her control. She wanted to fall on her knees and kiss Miriam’s boots.

Before she could decide which to do, Angelle finished her measurements, and Miriam stepped in to pull her out of her turmoil. A firm, full body hug, completely ignoring her near-nudity. More words whispered into her ear. “Good girl—I know that was hard.”

A hand caressing her neck. “Do you see how deeply we control you?” Luna melted into the iron certainty of Miriam’s voice. “We’re going to push you, we’re going to protect you. You’re in our hands now, and we’ll hold your vulnerable little heart.”

She was permitted to put her clothes back on, and together they exited the dressing room. Somehow, Luna actually did feel safer. Angelle walked in front of her, warding off helpful staff and navigating their trip. Luna made up the middle, still off-center and pliant. Miriam, at the rear, guarded Luna like a zealous sheep dog. She was both trapped by Miriam’s watchful gaze and kept safe by her presence. Somewhere in her gut she knew that Miriam would just as much intercept unwelcome staff as she would a giant otherworldly beetle monster, though Luna wasn’t sure why that image suddenly came to mind.

Angelle made it to a section she liked, and began to narrate. “So dimensionally you’re actually not all that unusual. Obviously fat redistribution still has a ways to go for you, and you started early enough that you’re likely still going to gain quite a bit of hip.” She picked up some kind of top with thick straps. “For now, both because I’m certain you’re dysphoric about it and because it’ll help a bit until your hips grow out, we’re going to go for some choices to minimize the width of your shoulders.”

Luna couldn’t really tell why Angelle chose one top, walked past another, looked at a third, looked at Luna, shook her head, then tried another one. But she would have been thoroughly overwhelmed, so she was glad for the help. Instead she was a very different kind of overwhelmed, as the dominating presence of her pledge master hovered behind her at every step.

Angelle gradually made her way over to a section with more skirts and dresses. She finally paused and looked back. “Luna, any idea where on the femme spectrum you’ll land?”

Luna looked up from where she’d been carefully watching the floor. “Ehhhh? Uhh, miss?” She swore she could feel Miriam laughing behind her.

Angelle kept a perfectly straight face. “More pink dress, or more pant suit and pixie cut?”

“Oh.” She finally understood the question. “I’m sorry, miss, I don’t know yet.”

Angelle looked back at the clothing racks with a grimace. She started moving again before speaking. “I’m not personally the hugest fan of ‘skirt go skinny’ but honestly it’s not a bad starting point. We’re going to get you a selection of skirts, a few pants—not jeans—and then maybe some a-line dresses. Honestly your tastes here will adjust as your body does so even if you knew we’d have to do this again anyway.”

“Yes miss.” Luna wasn’t sure what to make of half of that, besides that she had a lot to learn, so she settled on just agreeing.

They ended up spending another 15 minutes circling the entire store, grazing on one clothing rack after the next, gradually building a pile of clothing that ended up in the arms of the lowest ranking member present. Luna fell into a daze. She’d become a doll to be dressed, and also the clothing rack carry the objects of her decoration.

It was easier than thinking about the clothing itself.

At some point, well after Luna’s arms started feeling heavy, Angelle suddenly looked up, almost sniffed the air, then spoke: “We’re done for now. Let’s get her trying these on.”

The fact that she only needed to follow and hold clothing had lead to an uneasy peace in Luna, a peace that gradually dissipated as they made their way back to the dressing rooms.

She didn’t realize she’d slowed down until she felt Miriam’s hand on her back, kindly but firmly pushing her forwards.

They made it the rest of the way to the dressing room that way. Luna still kept pushing back against Miriam’s hand, but only softly. Somewhere along the way it had gone from a desire to resist to a request for anchoring. The touch soothed, and it felt like if Miriam didn’t hold her she might float away.

They made it back to the same large changing room, and Angelle quickly organized the clothes she’d acquired into a set of outfits.

Under the scorching gaze of her betters, Luna stripped and put on the first one. She worked up her courage, turned around, looked in the mirror, and immediately felt horrible.

The top might have been cute on another person, but Luna’s gigantic shoulders made it ugly, and her complete lack of a waist made the skirt drape in completely the wrong way.

She looked at Angelle and Miriam in the mirror, seeking confirmation, but they were talking amongst themselves behind her, focused expressions on their face.

“—actually pretty close,” Miriam said.

Angelle nodded. “The decollete just needs to fall a bit differently.”

Miriam looked back at Luna. “You’re doing great. Put on the next one.” She scanned Luna’s facial expression, and her gaze softened a little. “Remember this is a process, you only see us wear the winners.”

Luna put on the second outfit. This time she hated not having enough butt or thigh and somehow the top was too tight on her and made her look like a prostitute and this was so hard.

“Pull the skirt up more. Waist, not hips.”

Angelle and Miriam went through the same routine, though this time when Miriam checked back in with Luna her facial expression looked a little more concerned.

They repeated that ritual, over and over again. Sometimes Angelle would ask her to keep a top, but replace just the bottom, sometimes they would try styling it a little different—tucked in, hanging out, tied up.

Miriam and Angelle found some things they liked, and there were repeated promises of “progress” and “this is a good direction”, but to Luna it just felt like one failure after another.

Halfway through the sixth outfit Luna started running out of steam. She knew she must look crestfallen, but even wanting to make Miriam proud and do right by Angelle this was so painful she was struggling to continue. Each glance at her body, each outfit that just emphasized how male she looked, how she was this monstrosity, how she was never going to PASS, and she was ALWAYS going to FEEL THIS WAY AND SHE WAS DOOMED FROM THE DAY SHE WAS BOR—

Fabric over her face interrupted her, hands from behind grabbed her, pulled her, forced her to lean into a strong body. She stiffened, she was a monster, she was an abomination, an AFFRONT TO NATU—

Pain radiated out from the right side of her jaw. A finger was digging in, right at the joint. Luna instinctively tried to jerk her head away, toward the left, suddenly pushing her right into the divot of the body—Miriam’s—shoulder. The pain wiped away the thoughts, and Miriam’s body held her attention.

“You did great,” Miriam whispered in her ear, “but I think you’re at capacity now.” She tapped the fabric—the blindfold. “This is staying on until we’re done. You can help us pick clothes for you next time.”

Luna took a deep breath. Nodded. She’d be okay like this. She could do this.

From there Luna fell into another daze. The objectification she’d felt earlier returned in full force. She was a body, to be moved and positioned and pushed around into different shapes. Of course this was how it would end. They would dress her, choose what she wore, and that would be the end of that. And she would trust them to get her as close to that stylish Delta Sig aesthetic—not that there was a single one—as she possibly could with her developing body.

The most surprising thing was that she didn’t get bored. There was the constant rustle of clothing and fabric as Angelle dressed her. The differing touches—the gentle professionalism of Angelle, the forceful confidence of Miriam—served to keep her afloat, drifting, a boat in a fearsome ocean.

An ocean that intimidated her with its overwhelming waves, constantly reminding her she was not in control, but nevertheless unerringly maneuvering her from safe harbor to safe harbor.

At one point, one source of touch disappeared, and Luna realized that Angelle had left to get more clothes. It was just her and Miriam now, and somehow even more intimate. They’d been between outfits when Angelle left, and Miriam took advantage of it, placing her hands confidently on Luna’s bare skin.

Where the hands in the elevator had been arousing—light, rapid brushes, meant to tease—these felt calming, firm. The grip on her shoulder, the hand running down her chest, over her stomach, gripping her waist, all said without words that Luna belonged to Miriam, and that Miriam was pleased.

They ran gently down her front, between her boobs, down to the front of her crotch. When Luna tensed, they changed course, over her thigh and grabbing her butt. They told Luna what she couldn’t tell herself: That her body was appreciated, that repeated trips to the gym were producing results, that she didn’t need to be a 5’4” cis girl to be desirable.

Luna felt her body slowly turn to mush as a blissful haze she’d been floating in turned denser and deeper, dragging her down, keeping her there. She let herself lean back, and somehow Miriam had no trouble bearing the weight. She sought comfort, and found herself nuzzling her head into Miriam’s neck. She let go, and Miriam took control.

Distantly she heard Miriam whisper small, soothing words, but their content seemed unimportant. She wasn’t floating this time. Instead, she felt herself deeper within herself, wrapped in a cozy blanket, contained by the firm touch of her minder. It felt like a different kind of subspace.

Gradually the touches turned to gentle taps, and Luna found herself returning to the present. She took off the blindfold, and for a moment Miriam seemed to be glowing blue. It was gone in a flash, and then she was distracted by Miriam’s lazy smile.

“We said that would stay on until we were done, little kit.” Miriam’s tone made it clear she didn’t mind nearly as much as her words implied.

Luna, meanwhile, still found words escaping her. She hummed instead, some kind of mix between gratitude and need and an emotion she didn’t yet have words for.

Miriam understood her anyway. “Kneel, little kit.”

Luna sank the way she’d been taught, and a moment later a gentle hand on the back of her head pushed her face gently into Miriam’s thigh. The position felt as natural as breathing, and Luna returned slowly to the room—to the present—as the endorphins of what had just happened wore off.

Angelle returned with another pile of clothing as she was sitting there, but she was too relaxed to feel anxious about it. The relaxation held even as Miriam stood her up up and replaced the blindfold on her head. It even stuck through the next indeterminate number of outfit changes, until suddenly Angelle clapped her hands.

“It’s done, miss.”

Miriam was touching Luna’s shoulder, grounding her the way she had almost constantly this trip.

“Good girl Angelle. Luna I’m going to take the blindfold off of you.”

The light blinded her at first, but she felt the warmth of Miriam’s body behind her, supporting her, and that made coming out of her subspace haze a little bit easier.

Luna glanced at the pile of clothes. Miriam caught her chin and redirected it towards the door. “That isn’t for you to worry about yet. I’ll explain in the car.”

They walked to the checkout counter where Miriam presented a very fancy looking metal card to sales associate. Miriam caught Luna looking curiously at the card. This was the opposite of paying dues.

“We do a lot of illegal things for this money,” Miriam deadpanned, and Luna finally broke into a laugh. The tension and stress of this entire trip—it had finally tipped over into relief. She’d survived. Everything else she had to do as a new member would be easy by comparison.

She floated on those clouds back to the car. She gazed out the window, reflecting on her luck and gratitude for having found her way here.

They stopped at Luna’s dorm. Miriam stopped her before she could leave the car. “Before you go, there’s something you should do.”

Luna perked up when she realized what it was. She tried to approximate a kneel in the backseat. “Thank you miss, for taking me and hand and guiding me through something I couldn’t have done on my own, and thank you miss, for helping me understand more about fashion.”

Angelle gave her a smile from the driver’s seat. Miriam smiled as well. “You’re very welcome, little kit. Go, you still have other appointments today.”

Luna walked back into her dorm carrying the two bags from Nordstrom. There wasn’t time to look at any of the purchases yet, she had a dinner with some of the other new members at Thai Noodle V. She could try some of the new clothes tomorrow, or some other day.

She walked to the door and—actually Miriam would definitely want her to wear one of the new outfits. Getting new outfits through considerable effort from not just a minder but from Miriam herself… and then not wearing them? That couldn’t possibly be taken well.

They’d just taken control of her clothes. And she hadn’t even noticed.

It felt like being submerged. She could still breathe—the water was comfortable—but she was definitely sinking. And she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be permitted to fully come up again.

When she opened the bag a skirt and top combo had been separated out by a sheet of paper. A little sticky note sat at the top.

For tonight.

At least dressing after that was relatively fast. She skipped looking at herself in the mirror. She’d need to face it, if only to learn to see what Angelle saw. But that was for later. She’d done enough today.

Luna rushed out the door and walked the 15 minutes towards downtown until she reached Thai Noodle V. The restaurant was a student classic. Portions were large, prices were good. So good that Thai Noodle IV hadn’t kept up, three blocks away, and had to shut down last year.

Diana was already there, and as Luna arrived Persephone came from the opposite direction.

“Hey you two,” Diana smiled, “how’re things going?”

“Mmm, better now, miss.” Persephone aggressively closed in on Diana to hug her, and Luna wasn’t sure if she should do the same. She stood three feet away, suddenly awkward.

Diana answered the question for her, grabbing her by the shoulder and pulling her into a group hug.

Diana let them both go a second later. “I’ve been trying to figure out if you’re like this because of personal preference or because you don’t know better.”

Luna felt herself tense. Had she done something wrong?

“I talked to Persephone about it,” Diana continued, “but when we both weren’t sure I had a conversation with Miriam, and she had some suggestions.”

Persephone touched her shoulder, and Luna relaxed.

“So,” Diana said. “You’re allowed to be touchy with us. You’re allowed to join us. You don’t need to keep yourself apart so much.”

The minder reached one arm up and tousled Luna’s hair from behind. She was one of the tallest members of their class, which made her just a bit shorter than Luna herself, and it always helped her feel a little bit less aware of her height.

“I know you think you’re some big tall monster,” Persephone added, “but we don’t see you that way.” She thought for a moment. “And we understand that there’s some social cues you’re still learning, so at least with me and miss Diana, I hope you can find the courage to be a bit bolder, a bit more experimental. If you overstep we’ll let you know.”

Luna tried to find words, but found her throat clogged up. So instead she took a step back towards Diana, leant her head against the side of Diana’s, and let herself relax into the kind of touch that she’d been deprived of her entire life.

“Thank you miss, and thank you Perse,” she eventually whispered, “I’ll try.”

Everyone else arrived, and the group found a large round table to sit around. Luna drifted close to Diana and Persphone, and found herself sitting between them. Becca asked for Diana’s permission to sit on her other side, and even Claire mumbled a quiet “please” to sit between Becca and Arie. Riga joined the two ends to complete the circle.

They ordered family style, and shared a spread of pineapple fried rice, pad see ew, red curry, moo dang, and some salad and sides. It was a mountain of food, but there were seven of them and Riga had the appetite of an athlete.

Arie and Riga ordered themselves Thai ice teas, and Claire stared at Arie’s with undisguised longing.

They made small talk for a while, until Diana looked around the table. “Hey everyone!”

Luna realized she’d pitched her voice the same way Miriam did, and watched in awe as the entire table fell silent in response.

“I figured it would be good for us to catch up as a group, away from the big sisters. It’s beeeeeen three and a half weeks?” Diana looked at Persephone, who gave a small nod. “How is everybody feeling at the moment?”

Riga spoke first. “I find this all very fascinating, and I’ve definitely been enjoying myself.”

“I’m a lot more comfortable than I expected to be,” Persephone chimed in, “And I’ve really enjoyed getting to know all of you, yes even you Arie.” She stuck her tongue out at them.

Arie rolled their eyes. “For what it’s worth I like you all just fine. I think we’ve been learning some cool things, and I definitely see the appeal of having a bunch of servants running around doing things for me.”

Diana gently looked at Luna.

“Ummm,” she began, then coughed as she tried to get her voice to the right feminine register, “Overall I like having a schedule a lot more than I thought I did? Neha is amazing at planning, and they helped me go shopping today and that was incredible. They do so much to take care of us, and it actually… does sort of make me want to get on my knees for them?”

“The kneeling is pretty great,” Persephone agreed.

“I like that they take care of us too.” Becca didn’t manage to look up while she spoke, but Diana gave her a quick pet with her hand anyway, just for talking.

Claire crossed her arms when Diana’s attention reached her. “I don’t have anything to say here.”

“I have something I’d like to talk about instead.” Arie looked suddenly serious. “I used social media to track down all current Delta Sigma sisters, and they all disappear from social media—no more instagram photos, no more tweets, no more status updates—right after their first semester in Delta Sigma.”

Perse raised an eyebrow. “And?”

To describe Arie’s response as a glare wouldn’t do it justice. A glare marked someone as important, as worthy of glaring at. Arie looked at Persephone the way one looked at a particularly dumb dog, and not one of the ones that had won your heart.

“And, miss.” They corrected.

Then they turned away and kept talking to the rest of the table. “They’re also injured a lot more than they should be. One of them is almost always trailing us, looking out for god knows what. Yesterday I saw Allyson sneaking into the basement when she thought none of us were looking. She didn’t come out for four hours. They’re lying to us about what’s down there, too. They’re involved with something.”

There was a moment of silence.

“I think you’re being overly suspicious,” Diana said. “What do you think they’re doing, kidnapping people and turning them into girls?”

“No, of course not.” Arie gave her a proper, respectful glare. “We’re not paying dues. They have enough money for two houses. The house histories are riddled with inconsistency. They’re too close to each other to be sex trading other sisters—I think they’re involved with organized crime somehow.”

Claire had been staring at Arie, thoughtful. “Possibly sex trading not-sisters? There’s a property company out here that got busted for it a few years ago. It would explain the culting and the money.”

“I—” Luna fought for her voice. “I can’t imagine someone like Miriam being involved in something like non-consensual slavery. They care too much for that.”

Claire coughed. “About consent?”

Now it was Perse’s turn to glare. “You can leave any time.”

“I believe that we should investigate,” Riga said.

“I think we can definitely investigate?” Diana said. “It’s in the spirit of the rules for sure.”

“Spirit?” Claire asked.

Diana smiled at her. “It’s a lot easier to think in terms of rules and expectations if you see this as a one big activity we’re taking part in. Getting into some trouble? In the spirit. Killing somebody? Not in the spirit.”

“Well, let’s not make assumptions. We have no evidence there isn’t any killing going on.” Arie’s tone suggested they were serious, and they continued despite the disapproval on Diana and Persephone’s faces. “I don’t think we should investigate. I think we just keep our eyes open. And I’d like everybody’s help with that.”

Peres begrudgingly nodded. “Reasonable.”

Diana showed her agreement as well. Riga looked like she was going to push back, demand more, but then didn’t.

Luna suddenly remembered that Becca was there too. The group’s pet was leaning against Diana, a thoughtful look on her face.

It was Arie’s idea, so of course Claire agreed.

“Luna?” Diana was looking at her.

“I…”

Should she mention her episode? Or the credit card?

“—I think that’s fine.”

They moved back to lighter topics after that, like how funny their shared computer science professor was during his office hours, or the frustrations of needing to manage problem sets while keeping a rigid fitness schedule.

——

Luna walked home from the dinner, surfing on the afterglow of spending time with he fellow new members, minders and servants both. She’d had similar dinners as part of the Mentors program club too, but she’d never felt like this.

Belatedly she realized what was so different—for the first time she felt not just accepted, but understood. She flushed as she remembered the way Diana and Persephone had almost… handled her today. Catching her insecurities and batting them away like nothing.

Miriam had controlled her even better during their shopping trip. Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Whatever Delta Sigma had filtered for—besides clearly being kinky—it made them all understand each other in some deeper way.

Even Claire and Arie, who both still felt a little standoffish. Or Riga, who seemed to share her discomfort with physical touch. Somehow, they fit too.

By the time she got home she only had another hour set aside for homework. Then she needed to go to sleep. She sped through her assignments on the back of the lingering endorphins. She finished more than she needed to, and felt herself thrill at the idea of reporting her extra progress to Neha tomorrow.

——

Somehow, the joy didn’t follow her into her dreams. Instead she dreamt of running, and being chased.

At first it was just a sensation, a blur, the deep primal fear of being pursued. The first thing that properly caught her awareness were trees. She was weaving through them. There was a building somewhere ahead, one that she needed to get to at all costs. But whatever was chasing her was close.

She tried to do something, to look behind her and see what was chasing her, but she had no control—she was just a passenger.

Luna dreamt a flash of skin she hopped a fallen log. Two things stood out: her arm was a pasty white, and her nails were painted red-black. The arm caught on an exposed branch as her body made the leap, and suddenly there was blood running down the ivory skin.

She swore with a voice whose pitch was too high to be her own. And then, suddenly, her head turned and she looked behind her.

She was being chased by a 15 foot tall monster with long thin spearlike insect limbs, a body made out of glimmering scale-like panels around a rounded, otherworldly core. It didn’t have a face, but it did have a jaw. It looked almost like it was walking on stilts, and with that kind of gait there was no way it wasn’t going to catch her.

Her body turned around, and she could feel it prepare for a desperate last stand.

But then she woke up, drenched in sweat, inside her dorm room. Her roommate was still out, presumably at some party or something, and she took a deep breath. It was such a bizarre dream, but somehow it had all felt so real.

She almost—no, she wasn’t going to text Miriam about a stupid dream. She was already a burden, she wasn’t going to act like a child having nightmares on top of it.

But something about it kept nagging at her. The rest of the night she slept only fitfully.