Dehumanization

So far, the process of being prepared as a slave for transport to the Penal Colony was the most humiliating any of the women had experienced.

Therese sat on the toilet while a male guard watched her cramping, bending over and holding her stomach in pain, and expelling the huge enema with loud liquid farting noises, creating smell and mess. She wanted to revolt, to go back on her contract, to take whatever consequence might come for bailing from the slave program, but, well, she was a slave with no rights and quitting was no longer an option.

She was followed by Circe, Elena, and the others in the group of 25 or so slaves being processed, all naked as they could possibly be. No human made items on or inside their bodies. 

Elena realized as she was expelling the enema exactly why this was being done. They were about to enter an interstellar spaceship and to be ultimately dumped on a slave planet. Attempts to get contraband in were probably common, and eating baggies with drugs or other items was the perfect and perhaps the only way to do it.

Unless the slave was made to flush their entire digestive system in front of a guard.

Once the enema was expelled the slave was pushed through another door into a long corridor. Generally, every slave there was weak and nauseous from the process of stomach distention followed by the expulsion of the fluids. They staggard to the door, leaning against it and breathing heavily to recover from the body trauma of such a large, invasive procedure.

The first slave exiting the toilet assumed it was simply a walkway to the next room; it wasn't. As soon as Circe entered, strong, blasting jets of water assaulted her from every direction. It pounded her face, her front and back, even upward between her legs and up into her vagina, the force was so strong.

Instinctively, she turned to avoid the painful streams of ice cold water. The guard behind her shoved her back in. "Through," he yelled, and Circe turned back, trying to walk through the floods of water that inundated her body. 

The pounding water was like being beaten, baseball bats striking her all over her naked body, rippling her flesh, abusing her muscles. Water was shot up inside her vagina and then into her anus as well as the pressure separated her buttocks and the water assaulted her sphincter. She clamped her buttocks together, smashed her legs together and kept going.

About halfway down the washing hall she found it difficult to breathe, there was so much water pounding against her face. She fell to her knees, but then put her hand over her face to protect her nose.

Behind her shouts came from the guards, threatening to shoot her if she didn't keep going. Another slave was entering and they had to keep going. Circe stood and struggled on as Therese entered the hallway behind her.

Therese struggled in the same way, but knew she had to complete the hallway and survive the hard spraying water. She saw Circe fall at the end, struggle to rise, and then crawl out of the water. She eventually got up and continued, leaving the wash area.

Therese took heart, and moved on, feeling the water filling every one of her orifices, pounding and washing every bit of dirt and gunk from every fold and hole in her body. She had to protect her nose in order to breath, and pushed to get through as fast as she could.

Finally, wading out of the water, she gasped for breath and left the wash hallway.

How long would this torture go on? How could there be any more indignities could there be?

Gasping, dripping water, the women slaves moved beyond the power wash (which was remarkably effective at getting their naked bodies clean). Circe was convinced she would be bruised all over her flesh, but she had no time to stop and examine herself. She was pushed along to another room.

This room was empty except for a single chair, a rigid wooden thing. Of course, she sat in it, what else was she supposed to do? She was exhausted, anyway and slumped in the thing.

A guard came over immediately with a curved metal thing which he moved to her neck. A collar.

It didn't fit; it was too loose. Apparently they wanted collars to fight tightly, so the guard tried two more before being satisfied.

The collar sucked. It made Circe feel like choking or gagging, and once it clicked into place it would not come off. She hated the feeling of being trapped with this heavy metal thing around her neck, unable to remove it. She actually tried shoving it around a bit, but it was snug. Pushing it just pushed her flesh around, there was no room for sliding the metal against her skin to get it into a different position. 

The collar was thick, thicker than it needed to be, though rather light given how big it was. Circe noticed she would not be able to lower her chin quite as far as usual.

The guard opened the next door and she was ushered into another waiting room. Apparently the next stage could be bottlenecked, and the slaves would be buffered here. Waiting for whatever came next.

Other slave women entered the room one at a time, most still wet from the washing and all with various metal collars on. They weren't all the same, though most appeared to be heavier and thicker and larger than was necessary. No one knew why.

When the next door opened, Circe was guided in. Another door opened and Elena was guided in.

Circe fingered the steel collar around her neck. It was the only article of clothing-- of anything, that she was wearing. It didn't make her feel any better. Having something permanently locked around your neck made her feel more vulnerable, not less.

There was the hard wooden chair, as usual. She sat in it, she knew the drill. The person in the room was a bit different this time. A man, but he wasn't a guard, he looked more like just a casual employee.

"Sit still. I have to strap some people in, but you look like you will take this well. Just be still, done in a jiffy," he said. Circe did stay still, not wanting to fuck things up. Fucking things up here could get you killed or maimed, she'd learned.

There was the sound of buzzing, then a shaver ran over her scalp. Her long hair began to fall off of her onto the floor. She was having her head shaved.

It was a shock in its own unique way. Not like the collar or the cleaning hall, but it seemed like this was robbing her of something very personal, something that made her unique. She jerked a little.

"Ah, there, see? You moved, now I have to go closer, shave you down all the way. Stay still." The barber strapped her into the chair then continued.

Circe obeyed as the shaver cut the hair off, and then another shaver cut the stubble down until she had no hair left at all.

When he was done, which only took a couple of minutes, Circe was completely bald. Her head felt cold, it wasn't used to being naked. Huh, she thought. I am more completely naked than before because my hair is gone.

The barber released Circe and said, "OK, head on to the waiting room. Next door. Something will happen in a while."

Circe moved on.

Next up was Therese, who was shaking from the power of the freezing cold water. She sat in the chair and the barber strapped her in.

"Last girl jerked and screwed it up. Just stay still."

Therese saw her beautiful locks of hair falling to the floor fast, efficiently, like everything in the intake process. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she lost the last vestige of her own personality. She would look just like everyone else now. Ugly.

"Mmmm you are a beauty," the barber said as he finished the last bits. "Best of luck to you honey. Don't let that planet eat you alive."

He seemed kind, but was already moving to get the next girl in, so Therese moved on, joining Circe in the next waiting room.

Therese had slightly more stubble on her head than Circe, but it didn't make much difference. The two sat down on the steel floor and waited as more girls came in slowly through two different doors. Each had their head shaved down to stubble. 

Therese found she was having trouble telling the girls apart now, without their hair. Elena came over and was easily recognized once they said hello. She sat with her two friends.

"We've already lost Amanda. Maybe those others are right, there's no point in trying to make friends," Elena said. 

"Nah. We have to make the best of it or we will simply die, they won't have to kill us."

Another girl came over and sat with them. At first no one recognized her but her unique serial number gave her away. She was the capital crimes prisoner-- destined for death on earth, or a lifetime of slavery. She was on her way to be a permanent slave.

"Hey. Mind if I join you? I am Penny," she said and sat down. "I been thinking, and I figure we might as well get to know each other. I hear the transport on the ship takes six weeks. Might as well have friends."

"OK. Penny. This is Therese and Elena. I'm Circe."

"I wish I knew what was next," Penny said. "I never thought it would be like this. Not that I had any choice, I was going to be hanged."

"These collars?" Penny was trying to get a finger under hers to scratch, it was difficult. "I think they are loaded with explosives. Ever since they put them on us, the guards haven't been carrying guns. I think they don't care any more because if anyone steps out of line, one button push and kaboom. No more head."

Therese looked with wide eyes and felt her collar. "Shit yes, that makes sense. Fuck. Not that there is much we can do anyway, I mean, you saw Amanda back there. Brains all over the floor."

"Nice to know there's a quick way out if I decide I can't take it any more," said Elena.

That was a thought. If these were explosive collars, all one had to do was really disobey and they'd come to a quick end. 

"What are those bottles?" Elena asked. 

"Looks like water. I am thirsty, gonna find out." Circe said, and she crawled over to the nearest one. It was like a large baby bottle fastened to the wall, filled with a liquid. Circe knelt under the tube, took it into her mouth, and sucked at it. The act appeared humiliating, but Circe was beyond that. 

"It's water. A bit funny tasting. I think we might be here a while if they are providing water. Damn, I am thirsty though."

The slaves all began suckling on the bottles. They had dehydrated during the huge enema session, many of the girls had vomited because of pain and nausea. They were all thirsty.

A couple of times a slave demanded access to a bottle, pushing another slave out of the way because they were taking too long. These small fights didn't last long, and some slaves usually won and came out as dominant.

After an hour, Penny sighed and said, "I have to pee now. Where are we supposed to go?"

They looked around. There was nothing. The room was absolutely empty, in fact the doors were hard to see, they sealed without seams. But they noticed the floor was sloped slightly toward the center and there was a drain there. Liquids could drain there, or be washed there.

"Wait... do they expect us to go on the floor?"

"I totally do," Penny said with a grimace. "I think we are being degraded until we learn to live as animals. They will wash this room down after we leave. OK. I am going, but somewhere off to the side.

Penny went to a corner and squatted. 

It took a while to get it out, it was hard to go with a room full of other naked women watching, but she did it, The urine slowly trickled from the puddle down to the center of the room and the drain.

A protest was raised, the other slaves complained of the smell and gross urine, but then another woman stood and said, "I have to go too, sorry guys, I don't think we have a choice."

After this, a steady stream of naked women went to the same corner, peed, and went back to a location away from the designated pee spot.

The slaves were in this room for a long time; no one knew how long because there was no clock. No watch. No window. Just the unrelenting presence of dozens of other naked women, some of whom were not very nice. Fights broke out; no one came to break them up. 

There was a quiet period in which nothing was happening. Circe, Therese, Elena and Penny had been chatting about their past lives, which seemed far distant now. Their new world and what had happened during processing had nearly wiped their memories, and talking together helped them remember some of their humanity.

The door suddenly clanked open and a series of guards came in.

"Time to go," they said, "come with us. Some of you will be selected for punishment, we can't punish all of you we don't have the time; so we will select randomly."

"Wait, what?" One of the slave women said, standing. "We get punished randomly even though we didn't do anything?"

"Not you. You get punished for talking. Take her."

Two guards grabbed the woman and she was led into the next room.

The guards continued to round up naked slaves and herd them out of the room. As they left about one out of every four were randomly selected and pushed off to the side, where they were shackled, roped, their wrists lifted above their head until they were on their toes, and they hung there watching the other slaves shuffle by.

As the women hung there, suspended by their wrists, several guards took bullwhips and loosened them up.

The women hanging by the side began to panic, but there was nothing they could do. Hanging by their wrists, their entire bodies, naked and exposed, were available for the lash to strike. They could move a little, but their struggles meant nothing.

The first scream rang out as the lash struck the first woman.

Elena was randomly selected. She had looked the guards in the eye; other slaves had walked past trying to look small and unnoticed. Elena was yanked over under a pully where her wrists were shackled and she was lifted into the air. 

She knew better than to protest or complain. All that would accomplish was more strokes of the whip.

Some of the women had tried to remain stoic and calm and quiet during their whipping; none succeeded. The lash cut into them, and all screamed and moaned. Blood trickled down from the welts, many of them cut into the skin and blood poured down, at times splattering when it was hit by the whip.

The other slaves walked by those being punished and cringed. There was no rhyme or reason to this. Just cruelty.

There was a reason of course. To further dehumanize the slaves. They'd been stripped, shaved, had their insides searched using enemas, made to urinate and defecate in front of others, and were wearing heavy collars. Punishment for no discernable reason simply made them feel even more helpless, more exposed, more vulnerable. 

For those not engrossed in the spectacle of writhing, agonized naked slaves being tortured before them, some women realized there were more slaves in the room. Several incoming doors had been opened, and instead of the original group of 25 that had been going through intake, there were well over a hundred naked, sweating bodies watching about ten women getting their flesh flayed off them with bullwhips.

Apparently there had been other intake groups, more slaves. As more slaves arrived, aghast at what was going on, the original slaves being whipped were released and others from the new groups selected for a cruel lashing.

Screams and cries emanated from the watchers as well as the punished as the whippings continued.

Elena dangled, feeling the heavy leather whip slash across her abdomen and kiss her buttocks. She screamed, though it was weak now, she had screamed so much. How long would this go on?

In fact, she had only received 20 lashes, but the pain was excruciating and seemed to go on forever.

When she was finally released, she collapsed to the floor. Next to her was another naked slave, lying on her side and curled in a fetal position, sobbing. Elena did the same, curling up seemed to help a little. 

Finally, the punishments were done. The last slave was released from her suspension and dropped to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Several friends rushed to her to comfort her, but there was very little that they could do.

Water bottles with tubes were stationed around this large room with near 200 naked women, as in the room before. The friends of the women who had been whipped were helped to the water stations, and water was used to wash their wounds, though it was hard to get out from the tubes. The only way the water came out was through sucking using a mouth, so many women would suck water into their mouths then spit it on a wounded fellow slave, washing the bullwhip cuts.

Several hours later (no one knew how long because there were no clocks or watches or windows showing the outside), a large door on the far side of the room opened. 

"Out. Down the corridor. March," called out a voice.

The now weary naked slaves stood from where they had been sitting or lying, taking deep breaths and began moving toward the large doors. 

They were broken now, any of the slaves who had harbored rebellious thoughts were hanging their heads, simply trying not to be noticed. 

One naked woman balked slightly at going through the door and was hit by a shock stick. She dropped like a sack of potatoes and gurgled on the concrete floor, convulsing slightly then becoming still. Other slaves stepped over her body to continued through the doors.

What met them on the other side of the doors was a surprise. Not another room or short corridor leading to another room, but a long, seemingly endless corridor. It was made of metal like other areas of the intake buildings, but the ceiling had windows (high above, unreachable) that let in a dull, grey sunlight from an overcast day. 

The naked slaves walked. It's all they could do, really, just walk. 

And they walked. How long was this corridor? If anyone slowed while walking, a guard along the way would bark at them and threaten them with a shock stick. They kept walking.

Going back wasn't an option. The women had learned the only way was forward, and while that always led to more indignities and horrors, there was no choice. Forward was the only way. And so they walked.

An hour of walking along the corridor. It was surreal! It went on forever, literally forever!

One naked woman fell to the floor, sobbing. "This is hell. I never realized. This is--"

Her voice was cut short, becoming a choking gurgle as she fell to the floor, hit by a shock stick. She'd recover in a few minutes, in the meantime the women kept walking, stepping over her convulsing body.

The corridor changed at one point, as if it had been built in sections and the new section was designed differently. It didn't make any difference to the slaves. They still had to walk it.

Of course there was an end to the corridor. In all, the slaves had probably walked three miles, which was more than some of the slaves had ever walked in their lives. Others had no problem with it. But one way or another they all reached the end.

The end was a ramp. It rose slowly to a very large metal opening in a large metal wall that looked different than anything anyone had seen. The entire place was surreal.

It was the entrance to the starship.

Few of the slave women had ever seen a starship before. On Vid, sure, but up close like this? Nope. It looked completely different than they could have imagined. The large hole that was the entrance portal looked ominous, like it was going to eat them.

What little they could see, the starship was huge. They surged forward, walking toward the gaping maw of the slaver ship.

The the women did not see was just how many slaves were now in line. It went beyond their field of vision. A thousand... two thousand women, all naked, all with metal collars, all marching toward the giant ship.