Chapter Text
Winter break was coming up, and a pair of letters had arrived, addressed to one Elaine Maddock and one Angela Chesterfield, letting the girls know that they were both expected to return home for the holidays.
The clock was running down, as it had for some time. A forged doctor's note claiming that Angela had been diagnosed with infectious mononucleosis would only excuse her absence from classes for a month at most, and that thirty day stretch was nearing its completion. Her experiment would have to come to an end soon, and the only acceptable outcome was total success.
She took a deep breath and hoped to high heaven for the best.
Three days until it was time to head home for the holidays. Three days to prove that her efforts hadn't been in vain. Three days to etch theory into fact.
She looked down at her notebook, where it rested on her desk. She picked up the wooden brush beside it and set about pulling her crimson hair back into her now-typical taught bun. It had started as a matter of practicality, and indeed it still was, but a part of her quite liked the look.
She felt more… authoritative. More powerful. More in control. She liked to feel in control.
She zipped up a crimson pencil dress and buttoned a matching cardigan over top, right up to the collar. She made up her pretty face, her freckles still showing through the foundation, dusted her cheeks with blush, and painted her lips a shade of red which bordered on the violent.
She was a beautiful, if intimidating, young woman. As cruel as she was attractive, as her chosen victim well knew. Her eyes hardened, the change reflected in the mirror, and she grabbed her notebook.
For the first and only time, she forgot to lock the door on her way out.
Monique laid back in bed, staring upwards at the book she held above her head. The words, after five hours of study on her last Saturday before break began, had turned into a slurry of lines and shapes. She groaned, slammed the textbook shut, and tossed it aside with a whump.
She hated studying solo, but Elaine had been busy taking care of her roommate since mid-November, and so studying had regrettably become a solitary activity. She couldn't be too mad, though, knowing firsthand how awful mono could be.
Monique started across the dormitory hallway, and knocked quickly on Elaine’s door. Despite their experiments, which were admittedly not without some degree of sexual charge, having ended, she did miss spending time with the redhead. She figured that Elaine could be argued into slipping away from Angela for just a few hours with no harm being done, or at the very least she ought to try and convince her.
Yet there was no answer when she knocked, nor when she knocked again. Monique bit her tongue gently and glanced down the empty hallway. Most of the other girls were already gearing up for their vacations. Then again, many of the girls were also preparing to drop out now that they'd gotten engaged to their more competent counterparts.
There was a reason the college had a female dropout rate of eighty percent after all. Any lower and there would be some serious concern that local girls were actually learning something rather than looking for future husbands as they ought to be, and that would be no good at all.
Monique opened the door to Elaine and Angela’s room slowly, carefully, making sure not to disturb the resting figure in Angela’s bed. She looked around, finding no sign of Elaine, and sighed before entering the room and sitting down on her friend's bed, opposite Angela’s.
“How are you holding up, neighbor?” She asked, answered only by a low groan from beneath Angela’s thick quilted comforter. Monique smiled sympathetically. She may not have liked Angela’s rather rude demeanor, but she wouldn't wish this illness on anybody.
“Yeah, it's no day at the amusement park, that's for darn sure. I'm sure you'll start to feel better soon, though, so just keep resting. Can I get you something to drink? Some water, or some soup maybe?”
Again, Angela groaned. She groaned in exactly the same way she had before. Monique waited for a response, hoping one would come… only to hear that same exact groan again, just as it sounded the first two times. She looked at the mound of covers which hid Angela from view, save for a bit of dirty blonde hair which spilled out from under her blankets.
Monique tugged at the covers, and saw the stack of pillows and the blonde wig beneath them, along with the tape recorder which was, now, letting out a fourth version of that very same groan.
“What the devil…” She whispered, before her eyes suddenly shot wide open.
Monique Adams was a smart woman. She was on track to become one of the best and brightest nurses at one of River Falls’ finest brainwashing facilities. Her best friend was on a similar track, and unless Monique intervened, that same friend was in the midst of doing something profoundly reckless.
She put it together quickly, and raced off to stop it.
Elaine shut the door and smiled, looking down at the sight of her pet project, emphasis on the word pet, with nothing short of genuine pride. What a lovely thing this affair was leading to, and what a good sign it was that Angela didn't so much as shrink back in fright when the door to her enclosure was opened.
Elaine knelt down and strokes the blonde girl’s cheek, then kissed her sweetly on the temple. “Learning our daily lessons, princess?” She asked, and Angela nodded silently. She'd long since learned not to make a sound, lest the bulb in her mouth expand to a painful size.
Her loving caretaker set about with the daily tasks of feeding, grooming, and resetting everything in the proper order.
A bowl of pureed turkey and peas was lunch for her little brainless beauty, and she said a joyful “Thank you so very much, Ma'am!” before digging in. Her IVs were fitted with new drugs, the color of cotton candy and blue skies above. After that, the film she was watching was replaced with a new reel, one focusing on the joys of mopping floors titled “Shiny Floors, Shiny Smiles!”
After situating Angela once again in the pain machine, something that the girl offered no resistance to, Elaine pulled out a hair brush from her duffel bag and began to brush her long dirty blonde hair with long, gentle strokes. Angela smiled around her gag, paying careful attention to the film that was playing just for her, and soaked up every bit of knowledge it deemed necessary for her to learn.
Elaine smiled down at her pet project, and stroked her long blonde hair gently, almost lovingly, as a child might care for her favorite doll. Angela just looked so content like this, so peaceful, so much more enjoyable to be around now than when they had first met and loathed one another. What a beauty she was, when she wasn't mouthing off and insulting those she ought to treat with kindness and respect.
She smiled, at peace with her roommate at long last, and placed a small kiss on the crown of Angela’s head. The captive young woman made a slight motion of the head, silent still, to show her appreciation, then refocused her attention on the film.
It was just so hard to focus on anything other than Elaine when the redhead was around. She looked forward to these daily visits more than anything, knowing not only that she would be cared for with food and drink, but that she would even be treated with kind words and soft touches if she behaved herself properly. The kindness she was shown, that was almost as wonderful as the temporary reprieve from the pain machine's hellish torment. Even when the machine was active, her presence was a balm, and she craved it all day and all night until Elaine came around again.
From two twisted perspectives, it was a beautiful moment, up until it was shattered by the intrusion of someone who just couldn't understand what she was soon to see.
Elaine’s head whipped upwards suddenly at the sound of the lab door opening. She held a finger to her lip and gave Angela a look which said “if you make a sound you'll not live to regret it”, then left the chamber and shut the door behind her.
As soon as she was on the other side of the wooden door, the redheaded student took note of two things at once.
The first, that her intruder was in fact none other than the friend who had uncovered the abandoned laboratory alongside her. The second, that she could still hear the muffled sounds of the film she had set up to play for Angela’s continued re-education.
She couldn't switch off the film without exposing her experiment. She couldn't lie to Monique about this, as she could simply come down later on while Elaine was away to find what she had been hiding. She had no options at all, unless…
“Elaine,” Monique said from the entrance. She drew closer, walking brusquely, her face like stone. She stopped only when she was several feet away from Elaine, one of her hands resting atop a black countertop. She'd gotten her hair done recently, styled into a locally fashionable fifties pageboy. Elaine hadn't noticed until now.
Perhaps this project had been pulling her away of late.
“Monique! Swell to see you here again, my dear. How have you been?” Elaine asked, speaking warmly even as she blocked the door to the storage closet with her body. She held her hands behind her back, clasped together, and smiled comfortably as she slipped effortlessly into pleasantries.
“I’m just fine and dandy,” Monique said flatly. She was in no mood for pleasantries. “I know that Angela isn't really bedridden. I won't say whether I've told anyone or not, but all I want to know is whether you've been doing what I think you've been doing to her.”
Monique stared her friend down for what felt like an eternity. Elaine's good-natured smile never faltered. Eventually, Elaine shrugged, and stepped to the side, offering the door to Monique.
“Would you like to see her?” She asked. As if to prove she was playing no trick, the redheaded beckoned her over and stepped away from the door by another floor tile’s length.
Monique watched Elaine, her heart beating faster in her chest. Her fondness for her friend had faded in just a few moments, but it hurt to admit that to herself. She pursed her lips and gripped the doorknob, then pulled the door open… and saw her.
It was Angela, in a sense. But it was so much worse than that. She was stripped nude, encased in a tight iron sarcophagus whose interior was filled with dulled spikes and studs. Her face, free from the vice that restricted her body, had been bound with leather straps and ornamentation that made her seem less a person and more a harpy; beaked nose and gawking eyes included. A flexible bulb was wedged between her lips, forcing her into a gagged smile despite her torment.
Cables on the floor led back from the iron maiden to a large battery on the ground, and at that very moment, a light switched on. The iron maiden began to rumble, its interior spikes moving, shifting, all the while shocking Angela at any moment that they made contact.
She didn't scream. She just... Trembled, her head tossed back, with a strange light in her eyes.
"What the devil…” Monique whispered, awestruck by what she bore witness to.
"I call it the pain machine,” Elaine explained offhandedly. “Don't worry, she likes it! Don't you, sweetie?"
Angela nodded her head vigorously, and she only gagged and retched a little bit when Elaine unbuckled and removed her pear of anguish. The redhead switched off the battery before another pulse of electricity could be issued, and she knelt down to ruffle her roommate's hair. Angela purred, up until Elaine flicked her temple.
"Answer my question," Elaine snapped, and Angela winced with fear.
"Yes ma'am! I-I like the pain machine... Th-thank you for putting me in it!"
"Elaine. You need to tell me what you think you're doing to her right this fucking instant,” Monique said quietly, her expression grave.
"Now now, no need for harsh language. We're all ladies here, after all. I was just putting what we talked about into practice,” Elaine explained, smiling still.
"What we... No! Haven't you put any thought into the consequences of this? You can't do this to someone like us, you can't-"
"It's okay, Monique! She's not like you or I. We're strong, and so we're immune to this sort of thing. You said that we just needed to prove our point with a false positive, and that's exactly what I've done with Angela here."
It was an excuse. A justification, post-dated, to explain why she had done what she had done. They both knew the real reason Elaine had opted to subject Angela to a month of pain and humiliation.
It was simple revenge for a series of verbal snipes. Retribution for a slight, and little more.
"You... You actually broke her, didn't you?" Monique finally admitted, amazed by the transformation in Angela’s behavior. The girl was hanging her head, bowing in submission, not speaking a word unless spoken to first. All her bravado, all her swagger, had been melted away and now she was just a meek little lamb, no stronger than a mouse.
"Ask her yourself,” Elaine told her, nudging her friend gently.
Monique shot Elaine a frustrated look, still no fan of how recklessly she'd behaved, but sighed and relented. She tapped Angela, and when the girl looked up at her, she did just that.
“Did Elaine actually break you? Or are you just playing nice?”
"I want to be a good girl now, Miss… I'm so very grateful... To be shown my proper place... I'll be good now, Miss... I'll be obedient now... I'm ever so sorry for being bad…”
She was so… pathetic. Mewling like she was, eyes aimed downwards, shrinking back like she was expecting to be struck at any moment. There was an immediate sense that she was telling the truth, if only because she was too afraid to lie.
That was proven beyond the shadow of a doubt when Elaine unlocked the iron maiden and sent Angela tumbling on out. The nude young woman fell to her hands and knees, and rather than standing, began to seek comfort against the legs of her torturer. She dared only to grasp at Elaine's pencil skirt, and nuzzled her thigh through its fabric.
Elaine smirked, satisfied beyond measure by her point being proven, and hoisted Angela up to stand on her feet. Lacking heels, she was still left having to look up to those she now knew to be her betters. Elaine was clearly proud of herself, and even Monique was forced to grapple with the fact that, by all appearances, Angela was no different from any other broken housewife-to-be.
Monique pulled Elaine out of the storage room and shut the door, leaving Angela inside with the equipment that had been used to break her.
“See? She's never been more well behaved,” Elaine boasted. Monique sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Because you tortured her until her mind snapped,” Monique said flatly. She was going to have to make her point inch by inch, it would appear.
“Well, naturally. That's what we'll spend our entire careers doing to girls like her.”
“Only she isn't like most women. She's strong, like us, and she has the test results to prove it.”
“False positives exist. We did this to one another, and neither you nor I showed any amount of change. Stick her under the hot seat, and-”
“What you did to her was ten times more severe than what we did to each other, not to mention you subjected her to it for, what, a month? If you did the same to me, I very well may suffer the exact same results as her.”
Elaine scoffed. “No you wouldn't,” She said, and truly believed. The experiments they had run on one another had proven it, after all. It wasn't that change had been minimal, or negligible, it had been utterly non-existent. This was different.
“Maybe, maybe not. My point is, when you show off Angela like she's a prize winning apple pie and tell everyone you broke her, despite what her test results say, then won't they want to prove we aren't all false positives?”
“No matter how long it takes…” Elaine whispered, finishing the thought with no small amount of horror creeping under her skin. She shuddered to think of it, but knew that it was the one and only most likely scenario, were she to go ahead with her original plans.
Their professors had already taught them that the more resistant young women out there, those who simply wouldn't be humbled by traditional methods, would require brain surgery to correct. It wasn't too big a leap at all to think they might apply the same to women like them, just in case.
“But they can't!” Elaine insisted, slapping her hand down hard on the nearest lab table. She had fury, and fear, written plain across her freckled face. “We're not like them! We… We're different! We're better than other women!”
“Yes we are, and I for one would like to remain that way,” Monique said, her voice growing slightly more gentle.
Her anger at Elaine couldn't last for long, and she reached out to cup the cheek of her friend. The only way out of this was to work together, to become an accomplice to what Elaine had done, to find a way to cover it up.
“I have an idea, but we need her to go along with it. If she doesn't play nice…” Monique warned.
Elaine’s expression hardened, and she looked at the door, behind which her first and eternally favorite victim knelt.
“Don't worry. I'll make sure she does.”
They briefed her thoroughly before approaching the dean of students. Angela dressed up nice for the occasion, in a white sweater and tartan skirt with double petticoats, neat little gloves, and kitten heels. She looked so demure, bowing her head and fidgeting nervously like she was.
Elaine, at least, was there to keep her company. That and, of course, to ensure she stayed on script throughout the process. Angela looked to her, breath hitching, and breathed a sigh of relief when she felt Elaine’s hand on her shoulder.
Elaine rapped her knuckles against the door, and waited patiently for it to open while Angela snuggled up against her for safety. The poor thing was shaking, frightened as she was. She didn't have a clue what awaited her on the other side of all this, but she knew that it couldn't be good. Still, she was prepared to do what she must.
The door opened, and in they walked.
The room was cozily furnished, with antique chairs whose cushions never lost their comfort, and a variety of landscape paintings and personal photographs lining the walls. A tall wooden cuckoo clock in the corner threatened to go off in just twenty seven minutes, as soon as the next hour struck.
Behind a large oak desk sat a large man in a three piece suit; a ring of grey hair adorned his head and a thick, bushy mustache obscured his mouth. If only he grew a beard and adopted a wig, he would make a marvelous Santa Claus impersonator, though his demeanor was far too respectable for that. Dean of Students fit him much more aptly, all would agree, and he was indeed beloved in his tenured position of twenty years.
“Miss Maddock, Miss Chesterfield,” He said, greeting the pair with a polite nod. “I understand that you have rather urgent news for me. I must assume, being that you declined to inform my secretary of exactly what it entails, that it is of a rather sensitive nature. Am I correct in that assumption?”
Angela meekly nodded. Dean Mitchell Horace nodded gravely, and motioned with his hand for the girls to take a seat. Elaine did exactly that, crossing one leg over the other as she sat down and made herself comfortable. Angela waited until Elaine sat first before following suit.
“So what brings you young ladies here?”
Angela swallowed, and when she tried to speak, no words came. For the first time in her life, she didn't know what to say. So she did what she knew now that she was meant to do, and looked to Elaine for guidance. The redhead sighed, and spoke up in her place.
“While Angela was out sick this past month, she and I got to know one another better. During this time, she revealed a secret to me, which I have urged her to come clean about as soon as she felt well enough to do so.”
The Dean’s mustache twitched. He looked sharply at Angela, who shrank back in the holes of avoiding his judgemental gaze.
“Be honest with me, then. Don't dance around it, don't waste time. What is, at its core, the reason you are here with me today?”
Angela looked to Elaine, and for a glimmer of a moment she saw her smile. That little upturn of the lips, the slightest of smiles, it filled Angela with determination. She could, she would, make her savior proud. She had to. Just to see that smile again.
“I… I lied, Sir…” She started, then screwed her eyes shut. No dancing around it, he had said. So she wouldn't. “I-I’m not a powerful woman like Elaine is! I… I stole my test results and… and I replaced them with fake ones… I lied to everyone, even my… even my family…”
It was Monique’s fabrication, in the end, that they had agreed to use. A story which put the blame squarely on Angela, with no chance of blowback on her family or teachers. A simple claim, believable considering her current weak-willed attitude, that she had falsified her evaluation results to make others believe she was genuinely strong-willed.
She smiled softly, thinking again of Elaine’s beautiful smile. She hoped that she was making her proud. Then she heard her words, and felt as though her heart was caving in.
"Angela, aren't you sorry for lying to everybody?” Elaine asked, her words stabbing like a knife to the chest. She wasn't holding back, and Angela didn't expect her to. She deserved this. Deserved it for lying about being strong. “You told them you were a strong woman, you faked those positive test results! Aren't you ashamed of yourself?"
"Y-yes Ma'am... I'm sorry for lying... I was a bad girl, a very bad girl..." Angela promised, tears welling up in her eyes. She was just moments away from outright sobbing in apology. It didn't matter that the story was a lie, it almost seemed as though she was starting to believe it.
"That's right. Now isn't there something you'd like to say to Dean Horace?"
Angela nodded, tears trickling down her rosy cheeks.
"I-I'm sorry for… for lying ab-bout being strong, Sir. I'm j-just a weak, submissive girl... I n-never sh-should have pretended to be like… like my betters... Please forgive me, Sir…”
The portly man leaned forward, placing his elbows on the large oak desk that separated him from his students. His tweed suit jacket was unbuttoned, his crimson waistcoat caught the light in a curious way which revealed its intricate brocade pattern.
“You're saying you faked your personality exam results, which truthfully showed you had failed the exam, and replaced them with falsified results showing a passing grade?”
Again, Angela nodded her head. Elaine shook her head and clicked her tongue in disapproval for the abhorrent behavior. Dean Horace sighed.
“Well, of course you'll have to be punished for this. I'll notify your parents tomorrow morning of your imminent expulsion from this school, and advise that they sign you up for a year of finishing school instead. Someone needs to teach you how you are to properly behave, especially after you've been allowed to step outside your place for so long.”
“I think that would be for the best, Sir,” Elaine readily agreed. “I’m ever so sorry for not having caught on sooner myself. I actually believed her! But I am glad that I was able to convince her to come clean at long last.”
Dean Horace looked at Elaine for a few moments, then smiled. “Attagirl, Miss Maddock. You're to become a nurse, yes?”
“I certainly plan to, Sir,” She said, preening under his glowing approval while Angela moped nearby.
“You remind me after your graduation, and I'll make sure to put a good word in for you with whichever hospital you wish to work at. Life has many open doors for citizens who do their duty and report subversive behavior like this.”
“I… I’m a subversive?” Angela asked, horrified at the realization. Elaine shot her a cutting look, and her tears ran anew.
“Come along, dear. Let's go get you to your room so you can start packing up your things,” Elaine said, patting Angela on the back and then guiding her outside, where Monique was waiting expectantly.
“Did it all work out?” She asked in a hushed tone once they were all three alone amongst themselves. Elaine smiled, and basked in the sunlight as they neared the doors to the hall.
It had all worked out in the end. Everyone was going to live happily ever after.
– – – – – – – – – –
Now.
Indeed they had.
“Monique is married now, of course, and working at another re-education center in town. I kept in touch with our dearest Angela whilst she was at finishing school, and we started going steady before the first month was out. Isn't that right, pet?”
Angela nodded swiftly. “Yes Darling… I’m ever so glad you convinced me to stop lying to everybody and tell them the truth. I simply can't believe I spent so long lying about my exam results… claiming I was strong when I'm really so dreadfully weak…”
Tell a lie often enough, and eventually Angela would start to believe it. It's what made things so easy for the Chesterfields to believe that their own daughter had been lying and was, indeed, always as weak as she now appeared. She said it like she meant it, and she did mean it, because Elaine ensured she believed it.
Mya, who had been held in rapture throughout Elaine’s heavily censored and abridged version of the story, was smiling from ear to ear. She was practically swooning.
"What a lovely story! Mono really is the worst, innit? I caught it from a boy at school when I was 16! But gosh, having the love of your life to help you through it, and realizing it was safe to admit to her where you really belonged all along..."
"Mya, why don't you go get dessert ready?" Gabriel suggested, patting her on the arm. Right away, Mya leapt to her feet.
"Yes luv! Be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail! I've made jam roly-polies!"
Elaine raised an eyebrow as Mya departed to fetch their final course of the night. Gabriel just shrugged.
"She's still working her way through some American cookbooks. Besides, these ones aren't half bad, especially with the homemade custard she whips up."
"I suppose I'll have to trust you. Personally, though, I don't expect anything made by redcoats to outdo Angela's Jello cake," The redhead said, tickling her bride under the chin.
"I like using cherry flavor..." Angela murmured, eyes fluttering, rolling into the back of her head at the mere touch.
Gabriel chuckled, and excused himself momentarily, returning not long after fetching something from his bookshelf in the other room. It was a familiar leather bound journal, its owner's name inscribed on the interior cover page.
Her journal, with several pages excised in order to keep her little secret, which she had lent to Gabriel so he could further his hobbyist study of re-education.
He handed it back to her, and opted not to mention that he had, in fact, figured out what she had done. It was just so easy, easy for him at least, to see who it was that her efforts were focused on breaking.
Gabriel didn't know if his parents had ever figured out the truth behind their daughter’s downfall. He didn't know if anybody knew, anybody besides him and Elaine. Even Angela had come to believe the lies in the end.
He could, with a word to the authorities, expose it all. No doubt the proof was out there; pages which showed sketches of Angela locked in torture devices, crying for mercy.
He handed the journal to Elaine, and smiled at his older sister, who was sitting quietly, obediently, keeping her thoughts to herself.
Oh well. He liked Angela better this way anyways. Why go and ruin a good thing like that?