Disclaimer
This is a work of pure fantasy; nothing is real, and all characters are adults. Comments are enabled, and all constructive comments are welcomed; even if you think my story sucks, tell me how it sucks so I can improve the story and as an author. This story has some BBC themes (in chapters 2 & 3) but isn’t the main focus of the story.
Zia is recruited by Mars.
Chapter 1
The unexpected call
Zia walked briskly through the throngs of people in downtown Rochester. She was running late for her interview. The call was totally unexpected, and she was not prepared. Her roommate encouraged her to apply months ago. Zia thought it was a waste of time; she graduated near the bottom of her class in college, and she was not the cream of the crop candidate Mars typically recruits. The call came in late last night; to will be at the Mars recovery center at 9 am sharp. At first, she thought one of her friends was pranking her; this couldn’t possibly befor real. She was like ya, ok, you had your fun and hung up on the caller. To her surprise, moments later, her smartphone dinged, and a security authorization code was sent to her phone. It allowed her access to the Mars Recruitment Center, a highly secured area in the city. There was no way any of her friends could pull off a prank like that.
As she stepped off the pedestrian sidewalk close to the street and walked towards the building, which was set back 300 feet from the walkway, automated gun turrets tracked her movements. Her eye retinas were scanned by the security system the moment she stepped off the sidewalk. She was not a regular employee or known visitor, therefor she was a possible threat. As she approached the high wrong iron fence, lines on the ground directed her to a separate visitor body scanner along the fence line. It was Well away from the other employees or known visitor scanners. She stepped into the scanner and stopped as directed by an automated voice. She held her breath, not that it was a requirement to do so. Still, she was very nervous that if the scanner detected any explosive, gun, or biological threat, she would be instantly vaporized by the laser gun turrets tracking her. A moment later, the voice said hold your pass up to the scanner reader. Writing on the scanner indicated to her what area to present her pass. Zia already had her phone out, with the pass displayed on it, expecting this request. After she presented her pass, a light turned green, and she heard, “Access granted.” Now that she screened not a threat, the gun turrets swiveled around and turned their attention back to the crowded sidewalk and street. Zia stepped out of the scanner and continued towards the building.
There was a separate entrance on the building labeled visitors only; the thick glass doors slide open, allowing her access. She guessed they were bulletproof, possible explosive proof too, as she entered. The doors closed behind her, and another set of dark siding doors, about ten feet in front of her, stayed closed. She could not see through them. The walls on both sides of her were white, and the floor and ceiling had metal grills. There was a moment of rushing air around her, from the ceiling into the floor, and then a small square opening was revealed about chest height on the wall to her right.
A female computer voice said, “Please remove your face mask and place it in the Receptacle. It will be cleaned and returned to you when you leave.”
Zia removed the mask that covered her face and nose. The pollution was particularly bad today, and her air filter was partly clogged, making breathing challenging. She couldn’t afford to buy new filters this week. With rent, food, and student loans, she was barely keeping a roof over her head and food in her belly. Nice new air filters were a luxury she couldn’t afford. Not that they were costly, but it was money she didn’t have this week. She tended to use them longer than reCommended. Washing them at home did extend their functionality, but they did have limits on how many times they could be washed. Anyway, if the interview were a bust, at least she would have a clean air filter for her mask.
After Zia placed her mask into the reception, the white door slide shut; once it was closed, it was impossible to see where the opening was after it closed. A square lit up above it, and the computer voice spoke again.
“Please face the square and hold up your pass. Turn your head from side to side for a full scan of your face. Speak your full name.”
Zia replied, “Zia Marie Johnson.”
The voice spoke again, “Thank you, access granted. Please follow the lighted yellow arrows on the floor; they will direct you to the room where your interview will be hold.” With that, the dark doors slide open.
The space beyond was vast; the ceiling must have been 30 feet high, and there was an expanded lobby where people were heading to various places. Itwas busy but not crowded, as you would typically see in most office building lobbies. There was no front desk with security guards or gates to control access. The floor was some white glass, and the walls were white marble. It had a sterile hospital feel to it. As promised, a yellow arrow was on the floor. As Zia walked towards it, the arrow stayed ahead of her, moving along as she walked. It directed her to a separate Visitor elevator, and when she stepped into it, the doors shut, and the arrow disappeared. There were no buttons to press. She was alone on the elevator, and as soon as the doors closed, it moved down, not up as she had expected. After a minute, the elevator stopped and opened, and the arrow was ahead of her again in the hall beyond. She followed the arrow until it led to a door, and then the arrow changed to the words “Enter.”
Zia opened the door and stepped inside. Behind it, a man was seated at a desk in a small room. It was just big enough for his desk, his chair, and a seat from her. The room had blank white walls.
“Good morning, Zia. My name is John, and I’ll be your interviewer.”
Zia approached him and shook his hand; he had a firm handshake, “Thank you. My name is Zia Johnson, but I guess you already know that.”
“Yes,” John said, “Please sit.”
“I was looking over your resume. Honestly, you’re not our typical candidate, but due to unforeseen circumstances, you are our next choice. The third choice, actually, but given the time constraints. We will see if you’re acceptable before calling in the 4th candidate.”
This wasn’t how Zia expected the interview to begin. “Finding her voice, she asked what happened to their first choice.”
“Ah, Lee Ching. A Very bright woman, she graduated top of her class, young, healthy, fertile. She also had a few years’ experience in the engineering field, unlike you, a new graduate, I believe.” John said, looking at Zia’s resume. “The perfect colonist for our MartianColony. Lee passed all the tests and completed all the preparation work needed to board the next shuttle to launch into orbit. Then, she would have been transferred to the next ship to Mars.”
John stopped to take a breath.
“Unfortunately, two days ago, as Lee was returning home for the last time to collect what few belongings she would be allowed to bring to Mars, she was mugged. She survived the Attack, but a few of her ribs were broken. She is in no condition to board a shuttle to handle the gees to reach orbit. She expected to make a full recovery and will be emigrating to Mars at a future date.”
“So now we have a problem: we need a female with an engineering degree who meets our requirements to fill her vacant spot on the shuttle. And they must be ready to go by the end of the week. So what do you think, Zia? Are you interested?”
Zia was shocked and excited; this was a dream come true. What she saw of Mars from the news feeds, it had wide open spaces, large apartments, plenty of food, and lush greenhouses, all under sealed domestics, of course. Earth in the 23rd century wasn’t it once was in the past. Years of global warming deniers in the 20th century and measures too little too late in the 21st century did their damage to the environment. By the 22nd century, the summers were so hot that they were not survivable outside during the day any place south of 40 degrees Latitude. There was a massive shift in population in the United States to move north. Cities like Buffalo, NY, Helena, Montana, and St. Paul, Minnesota, increased 20-fold in population in less than a decade. By the 23rd century, Rochester, once a small city of only one million people, had exploded into a 15 million population center by 2251. Most People lived in cramped high-rise apartments; the government limited the expansion of the city borders to preserve as much land as possible for farming. Food, water, and power were all in limited supply for the average citizen.
As well as being a victim of Crime was a constant worry. Zia dressed as plainly as she could, not showing off any of her hourglass figures; she was very attractive, and she had the sexy curves of a young 24-year-old woman. If she dared to dress as sexy as she was, she was sure she would be a target of thugs that freely roamed her neighborhood. Her facemask she when wore outside helped to hide her true beauty, hidden underneath her plain clothes.
Zia lived in a cramped one-bedroom apartment with her roommate on the seedy side of town. There were sometimes food shortages in the winter and rolling electric blackouts during the hot summers, not to mention the pollution that required everyone near the cities to wear facemasks outdoors. Zia went to bed hungry more than once. She would do anything to trade her current life for one of a big apartment, fresh fruits, and vegetables of greenhouse-grown food instead of the processed, barely eatable mush she ate on a daily basis.
“Zia?” “Zia?” John repeated.
Zia was snapped out of her daydream, “Sorry, Yes?” She replied to John.
“I was saying is this something you are interested in.”
“Yes, absolutely!” Zia said with a smile.
“Good. But I must warn you: If you go forward, you will not be returning home. We are short on time, and we cannot risk another repeat of what happened the other day. If you need to take anything with you from your apartment, a security detail will be sent to get it for you.” John Continued. “Is that OK?”
Zia could not think of a reason she had to return to her cramped apartment. She had no boyfriend or close friends; her parents died years ago, and she did not keep in touch with any of her relatives. It looked like she was on to better things, a brighter future.
“Absolutely!” Zia replied, “But I have student loans. Will that be an issue if I leave?”
“Not at all.” John said, “If we accept you, they will be wipedout; we will pay them in full for you.”
Wow, Zia thought, not only was she going to go to Mars, but she would also be completely debt-free. The day was getting better and better.
“But first things first,” John said. “You will need to sign this non-disclosure agreement; anything you see or hear here is strictly confidential. If you breach this agreement, you will Not only be held for civil penalties but criminal ones as well. Our government strictly protects their secrets. This, of course, would only be an issue if you are disqualified; once on Mars, you can freely talk to anyone there, just not with communications back to anyone you know on Earth. We have a full copy of your medical records from your doctor; so far, there are no red flags to prevent us from moving forward.”
John handed Zia an electronic tablet, and she signed the non-disclosure agreement without bothering to read it. It really didn’t matter; she was going to do whatever it took to get to Mars. John directed Zia to click next. She also had to sign several other forms, notices, and contracts, and she signed them all without reading any of them.
John took the signed tablet, tabbed a button, and sent it to the servers, recording her consent to the agreement and contracts.
“Good, now remove your clothes; I’m interested to see what you’re hiding under there,” John said. “You can place the items in the trashcan next to my desk. With luck, you will not need them any.”
Zia was speechless. All this was just a ruse to get her pants! She stood up, ready to leave in a huff. “I’m not a whore” she angrily told John.
“Wait! Wait! I think there was a misunderstanding.” John said hastily. John was under a lot of pressure to fill the vacant spot. Usually, this was handled far earlier in the recovery process, but this detail was overlooked. “Please sit down, and I’ll explain everything. If you still want to leave after, I will not stop you. We will even pay you generatorously for your time and trouble coming here today. “
Skeptically, Zia sat back down.
“OK, you must understand that shipping anything to Mars is very expensive, and anything that can be produced locally is preferable to shipping it. The Martian colony recycles its air and water and grows its food, and metals and other minerals are mined and refined to build the structures on Mars to create livable habitats. Mars only has a population of a few hundred thousand, and the industrial base is nowhere near large enough to produce everything the colony needs to grow and maintain itself. One day, it will be, but until that day, Mars is heavily reliant on electronics, specialized equipment, chemicals, drugs, and all sorts of things that they cannot yet produce locally. Follow me so far.”
Zia was shaking her head, yes. John paused for a few seconds, then continued.
“So now we come to the problem with clothing. It’s too expensive to ship the latest and greatest fashion trendsto Mars, and cargo space is far better utilized for far more critical parts. Thus, shipping clothes to Mars is out of the question. The alternative is to produce clothing locally. If greenhouse space is set aside to grow, say, cotton, one acre would be needed to grow enough cotton to produce a full set of clothing for 200 people. To produce one set of clothing a year for a population of 100k, that would be 500 acres of green house space needed. That same amount of growing space could be used to feed 15,000 to 20,000 people. Then, there is the issue of picking, processing, and weaving cotton into material that can be turned into clothing. Not only will staff have to be assigned to those duties, but mechanical cotton Strippers, Spinning, weaving, and sewing machines are also needed. If you want the clothes to have any color, additional greenhouse space needs to be set aside for growing roots, berries, bark, leaves, wood, fungi, and lichens to make dye give the clothes color. Synthetic-produced dyes are not an option; not enough of those chemicals are produced locally yet. Techs must be assigned to service those machines and parts shipped from Earth for maintenance and repairs. And for what? So, you can wear clothes in an artificially controlled environment? Clothing was created to protect humans from a hostile environment, wild animals, harsh winter temperatures, protection from sunburns. It’s really a product that is not needed anymore, especially on Mars. The decision to eliminate clothing was made early in the development of the Martian colonies. What little garments that are made or shipped to Mars are reserved for pressure suits for working outside on the Martian surface or Personal Protection Equipment for hazards jobs. Everyone on Mars wears nothing; it’s clothing that never goes out of style, no greenhouse space or machinery necessary to make.”
Taking another breath, John finished his pitch.
“If you want to emigrate to Mars, you will have to lose your clothing permanently. This is non-negotiable. Strip or get out of my office. I see that you are compensated for your time. “
John held his breath to see what she decided. While he didn’t interview the second-choice candidate, he heard that she refused to bare it all. She tried to bargain for a bikini outfit, which was turned down. There are no exceptions; it’s a take-or-leave-it policy. Usually, when they recruit people to go to Mars, they have a backup candidate, just in case. But in Lee’s case, she was the perfect fit, intelligent, attractive, and submissive as well. She was the ideal candidate; they couldn’t have asked for anyone more suitable. Not to mention, there was no one even close to her background who applied. Having a backup candidate was a waste of time; at least, someone thought so. They probably got demoted or fired after this fiasco. There was an empty seat on a shuttle; filling it with a female body was his order. If he could deliver, it would look greatfor him; perhaps even he would be offered a chance to emit to Mars in the future.
John’s explanation made perfect sense to Zia. While logically it made sense, she hesitated; her roommate had never seen her nude. And now she was expected to bare it all to a man she only met less than an hour before. She didn’t even walk around the house nude at home and was now expected to be naked in public. While she wasn’t a virgin, she was so shy that not even the men she slept with were allowed to see the whole package in broad daylight; she insisted on turning off the lights before disrobing to have sex.
Impatient, John got up out of his chair, opened his door, and told her to choose.
Conflicted as Zia was, she knew this was a hardship she had to endure for a better future. Slowly and reluctantly, she began to remove her outer garments. She expected John to close the door, but he stood next to the open door.
When Zia was down to her underwear, Zia asked John if he wouldclose the door.
“Sorry,” John replied. In a few minutes, you will be walking out of this office and down the hall to your next step in the process. There is no point in closing it; privacy is not something you can enjoy here.”
After a moment of hesitation, Zia finally removed her bra and panties; she wanted to hide her pussy and breasts with her arms and hands, but she knew John would say something. She stood there, turning red with embarrassment.
John looked her up and down; she was lovely. She would make a good breeder, assuming she was fertile that was. Zia had an athletic build, 38 double D breasts, but the jungle above and around her pussy would have to go. It looked as if Zia had never seen a razor blade in her life before; maybe she was allergic to them, John thought. He joked to himself.
“Nice,” John said, “But that patch above your pussy will have to go. All of it, in fact, you have to have all of your body hair removed, except for the hair on your head, eyesbrows, and eyelashes.”
“Like a porn star?” Zia blurted. This was getting out of hand quickly; first nudity, now they want her pussy clean-shaven, like men who watch porn like!
“I’m afraid so,” John continued. “Manufacturing razors doesn’t take much effort and is well within Mars’s abilities. But there is shaving cream, aftershave, and medicine for ingrown hair Treatments to worry about manufacturing. It’s simpler if all body hair is removed before the trip to Mars.” Besides, you will look sexy as hell clean-shaven, John thought.
“Please place your clothes in the trash can,” John ordered her, “You can leave your purse and phone on my desk. They will be safe in my office.”
Zia’s processing
Zia did as instructed, pacing Behind John as he briskly walked down the hall. Zia was trying to cover herself but did so discreetly so John wouldn’t notice—at least, she hoped he wouldn’t notice. Thankfully, this area of the building looked deserted, and they didNot run into anyone else before they reached their destination. They entered another office, much larger than the last one. As they entered, she could see the door to an examination room beyond was opened. A man wearing a lab coat was seated at the desk.
“Good morning, Bennett,” greeted him, “this is our new candidate, Zia.”
Bennett looked up and examined Zia with his eyes. There was so much hair, Even under her arms and on her legs; this is what we have to work with. Zia was quite attractive otherwise. Bennett rose, held out his hand, and shook Zia’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Zia. My name is Doctor Barry Bennett,” he said.
“Please, this way, we have a lot to do and very little time.” Bennett directed Zia to the examination room.
Zia entered the examination room and was told to lie down on a padded table, legs apart.
A side door opened, and someone else entered the room; Zia looked towards the door and was surprised to see another woman, nude and completetely shavled, with a crotch tattoo, enter. The tattoo was some art design, and she was holding a small box.
“Nurse, please draw blood and get it to the lab as soon as possible. Tell them to prioritize the tests.” Bennett told her.
“Of course, Doctor,” the nurse replied.
The nurse removed a needle and some vials, found a vein, and began drawing Zia’s blood, filling each of the Vials.
“Why is your Nurse naked,” Zia asked.
“This is another fellow Mars Colonist; you will hopefully be accompanied to Mars on the shuttle. Lisa’s specialty is nutsing, and she volunteered to help out today. If it makes you more comfortable, I can get naked as well.” The doctor responded.
She did not expect the doctor to say this, or any doctor for that matter. “No, no, that’s not necessary.”
Zia was distracted; the doctor was touching her cliporis; she yelped as the doctor shoved his fingers deep into her vagina. While he was still probing her vagina with his hands, he was also touching her breasts with his hands, one breast then the other.
She looked at the nurse to see if the doctor molesting her was anything out of the ordinary. This didn’t feel like a regular examination. The nurse said nothing. She finished taking blood samples and turned to leave.
“Nurse, as soon as you drop off the vices, please come back immediately,” the doctor told her.
“Of course, Doctor,” Lisa replied.
The doctor withdraw his hands from inside Zia’s body; “She looks healthy,” he was telling John, who was still standing in the open doorway to the office as he stepped away from Zia. “She’s in peak physical condition. I’ll have the nurse take her to the next step in the process if, for some reason, her blood work. Reveals an issue: we can suspend her intake, but I’m comfortable moving things along.”
“Wonderful,” John replied
The nurse returned and told Zia to stand up and follow her. As Zia followed the nurse, she noticed the nurse had anotHer tattoo, a tribal tramp stamp on the small of her back. They exited the office and entered the hallway. She overheard the doctor joke to John, “What was he recruiting from the zoo now? With so much hair, she could pass for a gorilla.”
Zia was dismayed at the doctor’s unprofessional comments and turned beat red again, embarrassed. Nurse Lisa must have overheard it, too; she said, “Don’t worry; we will take care of that for you shortly.”
Zia again looked at the nurse’s tattoo. Zia didn’t like tattoos and would never consider getting one for herself. Trying to ease some of her tension and be friendly, Zia told the nurse she had a nice tattoo.
“Oh, thank you,” the nurse replied. “Both of these are new,” indicating the one on her crotch with her hand, “I had flowers all down my back and a big red rose above my pussy yesterday.”
Yesterday? Zia thought maybe they were temp tattoos. Before Zia could ask her about it, they arrived at their destination. Just down the hall, they entered another room. It was split into two rooms, a smaller room separated by half a wall with a window that continued to the ceiling. There was a door-sized opening that separated the rooms, but there was no door, just an opening to it. The larger room had manacles hanging from the ceiling on chains. There was also a chair a little to the side of the center of the room. The nurse directed Zia to sit on the chair.
Zia did what she was told; the nurse took Zia’s long blonde hair, pulled it tightly, and brained it into a long rope. The nurse directed Zia to stand in the center of the room. Before she realized what was happening, the nurse grabbed her wrist and locked it into one of the menacles; before she could protest, her other hand was secured. Bending down, the nurse then locked each of Zia’s ankles into menacles. They were padded with soft leather, so they were not like real metal dungeon menacles, but Zia could not move. Lisa then grabbed Zia’s hair, now in the form of a rope and attached to a retractable bundle, so her hair was pulled to the ceiling. The nurse then walked over to the station behind the glass and pressed a button; the chains retracted, forcing Zia’s arms and legs apart; she was spear eagle in the center of the room, completely helpless. Zia was forced to stand on her toes she was pulled so high.
“What are you doing to me, Zia?” cried out in a panicked voice.
“Sorry.”, the nurse replied in a confused voice, “Were you not told what would happen in orientation?”
“No.” Zia almost shrieked.
“No need to panic; this is part of the process of removing your body hair. In the old days, laser treatments were required, but with advancements in medical science, nanobots are now used to target and destroy hair particles. I will spray your body with nanobots, and after one treatment, your skin will be as smooth as a baby’s bottom. This is the best position to accomplish this. If you move, the nanobots could be rubbed on parts of your skin where you don’t want hair removed. I’ve seen a photo once where someone accidentally touched their head during the treatment process; now, they have a nice bald spot on their head. Unless, of course, you want all of your head hair removed. This is an option but not a requirement.”
“No, No, Please, I want to keep my blond hair.” This calmed Zia down; the last thing she I wanted was to lose her beautiful blond hair, let alone a bald spot on her head.
“What about your eyes? Eyelashes?” her nurse asked.
“I want to keep those, too,” Gina answered. She thought it was a strange question; why anyone would want to have them removed was beyond her.
The nurse disappeared for a minute and returned wearing a hazmat suit that covered her body and had a clear window to see out of. “I’m just taking precautions; I don’t want to lose any more hair, either.” She said with a smile.
She then sprayed Zia with a thin layer of black stuff, starting from herfeet, up her legs and torso, and stopping at her shoulders. The nurse switched to a brush and carefully painted Zia’s neck and face, avoiding her eyes, eyelashes, the bottom of her eyes, and the hairline for the hair on her head. The nurse surprised Zia when she stuck her gloved pinkie finger up each of her nostrils.
Don’t move; the nurse warned Zia. The Nurse stepped back behind the partition in the other room and removed her hazmat suit. I’ll be back in a few minutes to check on you. With that, the nurse walked out, leaving Zia alone, spread eagle, standing in the middle of the room.
It had been a lot longer than a few minutes. Standing on her tiptoes for so long had begun to hurt Zia’s feet. She didn’t dare move. How much longer, she thought. The doctor entered the room, followed by John and the nurse. Zia noticed they were all naked now but was so focused on staying on her toes that she couldn’t give it any attention.
“You should be ready by now,” the doctorwas saying. He stepped behind the partition and pressed a few buttons. First, a blast of air from vents in the ceiling hit her from all sides, followed by blasts of water from several nozzles in the ceiling directed at her from all sides. In seconds, she was washed clean of the black stuff on her body.
That’s much better, the doctor was saying.
Please, Zia pleased, “I can’t stand on my toes any longer.”
When the doctor pressed a button, the chains loosened a little, and Zia’s feet were firmly on the ground again, but she was still spread eagle.
“You look much better now.” the doctor commented. “And I have good news: all your tests came back fine, and you’re going to Mars. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Zia mumbled. She was beginning to second-guess her decision to go, especially in the current situation. “Can you release me now?” Zia asked.
“Sorry, we are not quite finished yet. Now that you don’t have any hair in the way, I can perform a more thorough examination of your body.” The Doctor replied. “But first, let’s get you your shots. Nurse, administrator the vaccines.”
The nurse approached Zia with several syringes.
“What are they for?” Zia asked.
The doctor told her there was nothing to be concerned about, just standard vaccines and medicines. Once the nurse had completed giving Zia the shots, she moved back behind the glass wall and watched.
The nude Doctor Bennett approached Zia. She should see he was clean-shaven and in good physical shape. John followed the doctor; John was also hairless from the neck down, but he wasn’t in as good shape as the doctor. She could see he had a pot belly and a few pounds too many.
The doctor wasted no time touching her hairless body; he squeezed her breasts, played with her cliporis, and inserted several fingers into her vagina. Zia was starting to get aroused sexually.
The doctor was saying, “John, feel her breasts, do they look firm and healthy.”
TheThe doctor said this casually as he was asking another medical professional for his option, but Zia could see both men’s penises getting larger; they were both getting hard! John reached out and was playing with Zia’s nipple. The nurse was looking on from the other room through the glass window and said nothing to stop them.
Zia could not tolerate this assault any longer, “Please stop touching me,” she almost shouted.
The doctor was snapped out of his line of thinking and removed his hands; John did so as well.
“Sorry,” he said, “I got carried away there,” He looked at John with a frown, and John grinned at the Doctor in return. Zia suspected something was communicated between them but didn’t know what.
Nurse, the doctor called, “Please continue with the next step in the process.”
“Of course, Doctor,” she replied. She disappeared out of sight for a moment, and when Zia saw her again, she was wearing the hazmat suit again. John and the doctor stepped back to the other room and looked through the window. The nurse again sprayed Zia with a thin layer of black substance, but this time, she sprayed it all over Zia.
Zia asked the nurse what she was doing, but the nurse said, please don’t move or speak; this will only take a few minutes. She told Zia to close her eyes. She could feel the nurse spray it over her eyes and even into her hair. Next, she could Feel the nurse’s gloved hands massaging the substance into her scalp. In the last step, the nurse picked up Zia’s feet one at a time and covered the bottom of her feet with the substance.
Zia again stood in the center of the room for several minutes, spread eagle, naked, covered with an unknown black substance. This time, she couldn’t see or hear anything; the substance blocked her hearing as well. Next, Zia again felt the rush of air and the water washing over her from all sides.
When she opened her eyes and could talk again, she asked, “What was that about?”
“Just applying your body tattoo.” The Doctor casually answered, “I’ll just need a few minutes to calibrate the nanobots, and we can release you.”
“WHAT!” Zia shouted, “You tattooed my body?”
The doctor turned to John, “You didn’t explain this to her.” he asked him
John replied, “This candidate was rushed through the admissions process; she didn’t get the standard orientation session that is given to other recruits.”
“Well, I guess you need a little explanation then. You know that Mars cannot manufacture many of the typical products you use on Earth. Correct?”
Zia shook her head; she was so angry she was speechless.
“One of those categories of products is costumes, but we have a solution for that. Have you heard of permanent Makeup? This is When you get a tattoo on your face to apply makeup. In this case, your body was covered by special nanobots, and they absorbed into your skin, just like tattoos. With a computer, you can control these nanobots. You can change the color of your eyes to any color you want, same effect as eye shadow. You can make your lips redder or change the color entirely. It’s just like using makeup, but with changing the color of your skin instead of applying chemicals. When the nanobots are turned off, your skin color is unchanged.”
This made Zia feel better; it would make it easier to apply makeup, and she would not have to worry About it washing off or smearing. She just wished they would explain these things to her before poking and prodding her; she felt as if she had no control over the process. She realized now what the nurse means when she said she had a rose tattoo yesterday.
“I just need to make some adjustments, and you’ll be good to go,” the doctor said.
The Doctor and John were looking at a computer screen. Using the computer, the doctor changed the color of Zia’s eye shadow, and face makeup; she looked like a clown for a minute, not that Zia could see what they were doing to her. Next, they gave Zia a Tramp Stamp tattoo. They were playing with decorating her with various demeaning sayings; on her button cheese, the words “I love Cum” and “Slut” were displayed on multiple parts of Zia’s body. When they were done playing, the Doctor settled on a tribal tramp stamp for her back and a symbol on the back center of her back that Zai wouldn’t be able to see without a mirror. This should be fun to watch, the doctor thought, having read her application. Zia checked the box in her original application she submitted months ago that she did not like black men. The questions were: did she ever date a black man, have sex with one, consider having one as a roommate, co-worker, marriage, etc? In every box, she checked no and even wrote a comment that she did not like black men and preferred not to be in the same room with one.
Once completed, the Doctor told the nurse that she could release Zia, and they were done for the day. He instructed the nurse to take Zia up to the cafeteria with her for lunch. With that, he and John exited the room, leaving Zia alone with the nurse.
In the room behind the glass, the nurse pressed a button on the console, and the manacles holding Zia all snapped open at once, as did the one holding her hair up. Zia collapsed to the floor, which was padded to prevent injuries. The nurse went over to Zia and helped her up. She moved Zia over to the chair.
“Here, rest for a few minutes,” the nurse said, holding out her hand. “I don’t think we were properly introduced. My name is Lisa.”
Wearily, Zia shook her hand, “I’m Zia, but you already know that.”
Zia noticed that Lisa had something white on the side of her face. “You have something on your face,” Zia told her.
Lisa wiped her face with her hand and looked at her hand. “Oh, that. That’s John’s cum.” and then licked her hand clean.
Zia was shocked, “You and John are a couple?” Zia asked.
“Oh god, no,” Lisa answered, “I’m not attracted to John at all. After I left the room after applying your hair removal treatment, John stopped me in the hallway and said the Doctor wanted to see me. When I returned to the Doctor’s Office, he ordered me to bend over. The Doctor undressed, and he fucked me from behind; John got into the action and had me suck his dick. I was split-roasted. The doctor is a known womanizer.”
“Why on earth would you volunteer to work with him then?” Zia asked.
“Voluntold is more like it,” Lisa answered. “Don’t get me wrong, I hated being used like that, but I worked my ass off to get to the top of my class in college; I slept with professors to get better grades. I worked many long nights studying and gave up going out on weekends with my friends. I broke my ass to get a chance to go to Mars. If I have to suck and fuck a couple more dicks it will be all worth it.”
Zia didn’t say anything; she wasn’t going to tell Lisa that it wasn’t like that for her; she was only there because of someone else’smisfortune.
“Anyway, I was surprised you rebuffed the Doctor’s advances. Good for you.” Kim said.
“What do you mean?” Zia asked.
“You know, when the doctor was molesting you, he bet John that he could have you begging for him to fuck you. You shut him down.” Lisa said, smiling. “Doctor Bennett is a real bastard, he’s the one that Keeps changing my Tattoos every few days. He gave me a tattoo that said ‘I love Anal Sex’ last week.”
“You can’t control what your tattoos say?” Zia asked.
“We will when we get to Mars, but while we are here still on Earth, we are at the mercy of every asshole that wants to fuck with us. Pretty much every woman in my dorm has a Tramp Stamp that the Doctor programmed on them. Like I said, a real asshole.”
Zia thought, well, at least I don’t have one; she looked around to look at the small of her back and saw that she did. Shit, she thought.
Lisa, seeing Zia’s expression, said, “Don’t worry about it; you can remove or change it when you get to Mars. It will all be worth it in the end.”
With that, Lisa helped Zia up and led the way to the cafeteria. As they walked, Lisa said, “I’m sorry about your hair removal treatment. It’s only supposed to be a ten-minute treatment, but I can’t disobey a direct order from the Doctor. He left you hang up there for over an hour.”
Fuck! Zia Thought, what have I gotten myself into?
“The doctor can fuck anyone he wants without question?” Gina asked, concerned.
“No, you can refuse. No one can force you to do anything sexual you don’t want to, but I have a special arrangement with the doctor I’d rather not talk about.” Lisa Answered.
Zia had a wonderful time at lunch with Lisa. They talked Together like they were old friends. Zia was initially shy. Everyone in the lunch room was naked, even the cooking staff. But after a half-hour, nudity was no big deal. No one pointed at her or laughed at her body, at least no one she could see. After lunch, Lisa escorted Zia to her first class.
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