The door hissed open. Spike and Xander were huddled together in the back corner of the cell the other five occupants were similarly wound around each other. It was their only comfort. The three who had most recently been ‘treated’ occupied the mattress. One of the males, a peaceful demon Nat with pretty blue skin, had obviously been sliced from neck to groin, the cut though sewn, was still oozing through the dressings. There was nothing any of the others could do as they watched him slowly succumb. The lights were always on, there was no privacy, their nudity no longer an embarrassment, the cold and hunger ever-present.
“C’mon ya lazy bastards up!” All inmates were instantly alert and moving away from the voice. Deliberately deformed hands scrabbled at the floor, injured legs were forced to stand, violated bodies groaned as they complied with the demand. Those more able supported those who could not stand on their own. Xander helped his still recovering friend to his feet literally holding him up. He was weak, but Spike was now as light as a small child. Their blue friend did not move at all. A nightstick came down hard on the blue body, as the merest hint of an ‘oof’ was heard the action was repeated. After the fifth hit, Spike smelt it, even Xander could tell. Nat was out of pain. The dead body was kicked for good measure then a brisk order had it dragged from the cell. It seemed that it was simply a matter of time before they all left that way.
A large uniformed woman marched in behind the baton wielding soldier. She carried a pile of white disposable hospital scrubs. Throwing them in the middle of the room and before simply commanding “Dress for inspection”.
Xander eased his friend to the ground before taking two of the coveralls, quickly dressing himself then gently pulling the second garment onto Spike, careful not to abrade his still raw behind.
Clearly made for healthy human males in a ‘one size fits all’ sense, the prisoners looked ridiculous. Far too thin to fill out the material, their emaciated forms seemed to be accentuated by the clothing rather than disguised. They were each then injected with a mild sedative rendering speech impossible and any indication of intelligence unlikely.
The inspectors came to the ‘medical facility’ every six months or so. They wandered around with clipboards, peering in at the inmates; occasionally asking a question of one of the scientists regarding their research; showing mild concern if there were particularly obvious injuries on the experimental subjects; admiring the innovative research; tut tutting at the overcrowding; and complimenting the guards on how very clean and wonderfully calm the prisoners looked.
The group stopped at Xander and Spike’s cell to discuss a particularly exciting group of ‘cases’. One of the two guards pushed Xander flat on his back and held him. Xander simply closed his eyes as one scientist pulled open his coveralls, exposing him to the group, then proceeded to prod the human. He lifted his genitals, pointed to various scars and generally discussed his hormone treatment and internal ‘preparation’.
Spike had initially been watching but now closed tear filled eyes and through his drug induced haze, listened while the visitors marveled at the research into gender determination of demons and reassignment experiments. Their justification was apparently to perfect reassignment for breeding purposes in endangered *animal* species. Cross species surrogacy was also discussed. The demons and half breeds were expendable. If the technique was a success then it would benefit the outside world.
They discussed their methodology to date and the intention to ‘fully treat’ one or two of their ‘current batch’ as a comparative study since they had now established the correct hormone dosage for a variety of demons. Xander’s flaccid penis was pushed around by what felt like a lecture pointer while comments were made regarding the harvesting of seed from Xander, and his surprisingly full reversal, post hormones. The discussion flowed into one of a permanent reassignment for this subject, and a possible experimental pregnancy. There were other comments regarding the disappointing results to date, a ‘high attrition rate’ and disappointing results with some of the demon species and the better success with humans and halfbreeds. Vampires were discounted due to their regenerative nature preventing permanent changes. A number of the group simply stepped over the still fully exposed Xander. They wandered off still musing about their breeding program and newly planned experimental facilities.
As the door hissed shut, Spike slowly pushed himself over to his friend and with clumsy hands, tucked Xander back in and managed to pull the zip up half way before collapsing again. Xander rolled toward him. They hugged and cried. The next round of experiments seemed to promise a devastating and permanent change, they had to get out.
Another month passed. Two of the occupants of their cell were taken for experiments and did not return. One halfbreed Bracken demon returned from the lab with a small vibrator apparently permanently inserted, sewn down in contact with his prostate. The research assistants sat and observed outside the cell, dialing the vibrations higher and higher until the poor male's spines turned fiery orange and he begged for relief. He was given none. In the end, Xander and Spike and the other two inmates all took turns trying to comfort the poor individual as he screamed and sobbed for four days straight, sleep rendered impossible for the dear wretch by the constant stimulation. By the end of the fifth day as the vibrations were increased again, he fell utterly silent. He simply sat in the corner of their cell rocking, crying, tugging at his erection and occasionally playing with his own rear end. He no longer ate or drank anything, eventually fell unconscious and was removed.
With only four left in the cell, sleeping on the mattress was a now a given. It was a small bonus.
One of their companions Jason had come in as a burly lad, standing just over seven feet tall, with the appearance of a professional wrestler. Spike identified him as non human immediately and Xander was a little wary, but the gentle giant had endeared himself to all of them. He was now rake thin and stooped a little. Xander and Spike watched with distress as he too was treated with hormones, but were even more upset when he was returned to their cell minus all his body hair and his scrotum. They had never really liked Neil, their other cellmate, pointy toothed with scaly lizard like skin. He had always been what Xander would call a ‘slippery’ character, but on the night of Jason’s return, he had held his huge fellow prisoner, rocking him as he came to, realized his ‘status’, and grieved.
Every day for the next fortnight, Neil disregarded their captors and observers, if there were any who still cared, and used his incredibly long and soft tongue to gently lave the ruined area. He never missed an opportunity to praise Jason’s appearance or to comfort. It was as though a switch had been flipped when the manhood of the other was lost. Neil finally confided in the other three that with his race, sliding between male and female was a given. He had started as a female and changed in his thirtieth year. He adored his large friend’s new found ambiguity, Jason cried all the more for the understanding and slowly but surely began to return the love he was given.
Xander was still ‘in tact’, though it would just be a matter of time he was certain. As the ‘treatments’ for Jason ‘ramped up’, their food supply improved. Jason filled out a little and with it came the female features. They were all shocked when he began to lactate, though Neil was more on the ecstatic side of the ‘shock spectrum’. Spike and Xander vacated the mattress. The other two made noisy love, Neil’s stumpy tail raised triumphantly as he licked over the milk producing chest and completed ecstatically inside his now willing lover.
The following day the two were taken together. Mumbled words of ‘new facilities’; ‘breeding schemes’; and ‘keeping the subjects happy’; were coupled with ‘final phase’ and ‘risk to the surrogate’.
So now they were alone, and truly terrified. Xander promised to dust Spike, Spike to drain Xander. They clung to each other until drugged and forcibly separated for their ‘treatments’. Regardless of the daily torment they cuddled when together, it was the only comfort.
At month twenty Xander was back on the hormones, Spike back to the torture. This time it was electric shock. After the last two 'treatments' he had been returned to the cell docile, unable to speak and apparently unable to access whole sections of his memories. Still in gameface, he had addressed Xander as ‘good sir’ and seemed utterly confused and horrified by his own nudity and circumstance… blaming the Kaiser, the French, anyone not English, for his predicament. As his memories returned, Xander held him and they both cried in silence.
As the numbers of ‘hostiles’ in the cells dwindled, the cries of those still left became a regular commentary on each day. It seemed the new facility had been opened and most of the existing ‘inmates’ were no longer of use. The end result seemed inevitable. Alone and frightened, or together and frightened, the latter was by far the most preferable. They were all destined to die.
It was an unknown day of the week, at an unknown time that their white world abruptly disappeared.
A rumble marked the start. An alarm sounded somewhere in the building then an almighty explosion blew the walls of their cell away and left them both utterly deafened. Spike somehow landed on top of the blast site. He could sense his friend’s heartbeat under the rubble and fell into gameface, using all his vampire assets to tear at the concrete and twisted metal, and located a relatively unscathed, though trapped, Xander, under a large piece of Perspex. He touched the hand, thankfully, it responded.
He worked for another hour, slowly ridding the upper layers of weight until he could pull Xander free. The human’s arm was broken. His ribs on one side obviously cracked but his back and legs, though bruised, were fine. Spike swiftly bit his wrist, shoving it into his friend's mouth. Xander reflexively drank a little, then they both slowly stood. Spike could see, but they were both nude, had no idea where they were or even if they were above or below ground, let alone how to get out.
After The Fall: 3