Training in Grace

John and the women were herded into another large room, this one with treadmills, each with a small bench next to it John wasn’t sure if his legs could stand more exercise.

“Prisoners will find their designated piece of equipment,” the computer voice stated. “Prisoner numbers are located on or near the equipment and are in numerical order. You have three minutes to find your station and sit on the supplied bench with your feet in the indicated spaces or you will be punished.”

John and several women sighed. There was some grumbling as everyone headed out to find her (or his) bench. The new inmates were becoming faster at finding their stations as they were recognizing the order that their numbers were in. John found his treadmill and bench in short order, as he recognized the woman directly to his left.

He sat on the bench and placed his feet on the yellow painted footsteps on the floor. The far wall lit up, again with a video., this time with a perky redhead.

“Welcome, ladies! Today we begin your training in grace. There’s an art to moving sensually to please and attract men, and that’s what this training involves. Please brace yourselves. Preparation will only take a few moments.”

John held on tightly to the bench. There was a hiss, and cuffs rose up from the floor and encircled his ankles. The cuffs retracted slightly, and he could feel things happening to his feet.

The redhead on the video screen started speaking again. “You’re being fitted for what may be your very first set of high heels! They will raise your ass, lengthen your leg, shorten your stride, and make you more desirable for men! Isn’t that wonderful? What man doesn’t like an attractive woman in some dazzling heels?”

John felt more tugging at his feet.

The redhead continued. “Your heel height has been selected as a starting point based upon your body shape and how well you did during aerobics. But don’t worry, ladies. As we progress, your heel height will increase until it’s optimal.

“In order to maximize training initially, the heels you are being provided with will be locked to your feet. Only the main computer will be able to release them, temporarily, for certain activities. They will be replaced once activities, such as showering, exercise, or medical reasons, have been completed.

“Should you forget the basics we’ll learn here today, the computer will issue corrections. The goal is to have you all walking effortlessly in stilettos as soon as possible. Won’t that be fun?”

“Another thing, ladies, you must keep your legs crossed at all times while sitting from this point on. If you cannot cross your thighs, cross your ankles. Failure to do so will result in corrections. We want this to become second nature.” She continued, smiling like a flight attendant.

A hiss released everyone’s ankles. John was now sporting some strappy 3 inch sandals with no obvious way of removing them. There were multiple groans, including one from John. He was being **** to take another step, and the pun didn’t amuse him at all, toward being turned into someone attractive to, and attracted by, men.

“Please step onto the treadmills, ladies,” the redhead said, still smiling. “You have thirty seconds to hop up there. Please hurry. We’d hate to punish you.”

John stood, wobbly, and clomped onto the treadmill. Some women had no problems. Others, like John, were obviously in their first set of heels.

“Thank you,” the redhead said. “Now we’ll get started.”

The treadmills began moving slowly. John was **** to start walking. One woman decided she was going to get off of her treadmill, and John could almost predict what would happen. She stepped off and yowled in pain as she was shocked. It took several more shocks to get her back on the treadmill

“Walk on your toes, ladies!” The redhead encouraged. “Sway your hips! Feel the burn!” She continued spouting tips and hints as well as saying how great the heels made the prisoners asses look and that they’d be getting wolf whistles soon enough. John hated the thought of sashaying past men and being checked out.

“Heads up!” encouraged the redhead. “Chest out! You will be proud to be noticed by men!”

Arms dropped out of the rails on the treadmill. They provided guidance on the walking. Failure to take small enough steps? Shock. Failure to swing the arms? Shock. Not swaying your hips enough? Shock. Not standing up straight? Shock.

John’s calves started to burn, and he just wasn’t graceful in the heels at all. But the computer was determined that he would be, and there simply was nothing John could do. So he walked, swung his arms and hips, and gradually the stinging slowed.

The redhead grinned again. “That was excellent, ladies. Well done! You will now please head through the open doors,” doors slid open,”and back to the cafeteria. You’ll have thirty minutes for dinner, then you will go back to your cells. You have 10 minutes to return to the cafeteria for dinner.”

John unsteadily got off the treadmill. He took a few steps towards the open doorway and received a painful shock. Dammit. He’s going to have to walk as best like a woman as he could.

Walking in heels was slower than in flats he soon realized. He received multiple painful corrections as he minced his was back along the hallway to the cafeteria. He was greeted by Holly, Lisa, and the others, and they teased him about his footwear.

John got in line with the others and got to the food dispensary. “Prisoner 1LEZ4535...” he said tentatively into the speaker. Again, he received a salad as his meal. Grumbling, John managed to make it back to the table without getting shocked. He put his tray down and sat, remembering to cross his legs as he did.

“Don’t worry, Joanie,” Lisa said. “You’ll soon be dancing backwards in heels higher than that.”

John glowered at her and ate his meager salad in silence, hating this place.

The computer announced that the women had 10 minutes to get back to their cells. The cafeteria doors slid open, and John and the other prisoners started heading to the cell block.

John still was not graceful enough for the computer. He continued getting zapped after every tenth or so step. His new friends gave encouragement and advice, but John was almost too tired to care. He reached his cell and Holly was already inside.

She giggled. “You’ll learn, Joanie.”

John grumbled.

“Sway your ass, honey. It helps with walking on the balls of your feet. “

“Easy for you to say,” John said as he swayed his hips and sat down on his bunk. Within seconds after sitting, John got a powerful shock. He immediately crossed his thighs.

“You’ll learn,” Holly said again.

“But I don’t want to learn!” John whined. “I shouldn’t even be in here!”

“But you are, and you have ****,” Holly said. The cell door clanged shut and latched with an audible clank.

“Now what?” asked John.

“Nightgowns, pills, and lights out,” said Holly.

As if on cue, the computer voice said, “Prisoners will stand in the designated areas with their arms out to their sides. Failure to do so will result in punishment.”

The trek back from grace training and all the “encouragements” from the computer had really taken the fight out of John. He and Holly assumed their positions in the cell.

An arm descended from the ceiling and scanned their arms, apparently reading the chips implanted.

“Prisoners accounted for,” the computer voice stated. Two slots opened and a stack of gauzy material on each slid into view. To chutes opened to the side of each shelf. “Please remove your uniforms and place the soiled clothing into the chute. Failure to do so will be punished.”

John had some trouble getting out of his uniform with the heels on, but he managed. He and Holly dropped the worn clothing into the chutes. They hissed shut.

“Don’t pick up anything until you’re told Joanie,” Holly warned John.

“Please retrieve your sleepwear. You have two minutes to get redressed.”

John picked up the nightwear from the shelf in front of him. It was a gauzy purple nightie. With push up cups. And a thong. The shelves slid back into the wall. After a few seconds, the shelves slid back into view, this time with a small container of wet wipes, a glass of water, and a mirror on each.

“What is it with the computer giving me thongs?” John asked, in what he thought was a rhetorical manner.

“Looks like the computer has decided you’re a thong kinda girl, Joanie,” Holly said, giggling. “You’ll love sexy lingerie once you start wearing it!”

“I doubt that,” John said, tired of the whole routine. He just wanted to sleep at this point. This whole day had been exhausting.

Holly wiggled into her nightie, which was red. John struggled with watching Holly while not watching her and getting his heels through his thong, but he got it pulled up into place. He dropped the nightie over himself and felt ridiculous.

“Prisoners may now move freely,” the computer said. “Remove your makeup. Take your pills. Get into bed. In that order. You have three minutes to accomplish these tasks before punishment. Lights out in five minutes.”

John looked down at himself in the nightie. The cups were solid fabric, obviously to obscure breasts. The cups were held in place by spaghetti straps, and the bodice was diaphanous purple nylon that was split open and fluttered annoyingly to reveal his stomach and navel. Sexy on a girl, sure. On him? Not. John sighed.

“Honey, I know you’re not well endowed yet,” Holly said, holding her hands in front of her breasts, “but...” she stepped over to him and reached inside his cups, lifting loose flesh and giving him the appearance of a small, but unmistakably feminine, bust line. “You’ve got to at least try. Men like cleavage. And the computer will soon expect you to put forth an effort.”

John was frustrated at being denied an erection all day. Holly smelled so good, and she was a knockout. And she was also in a push-up nightie. He could see down her cleavage. And she was close, and warm...

John got a powerful shock. “Dammit!” He swore.

“Prisoner 1LEZ4535 is showing signs of arousal,” the computer said. “That is unacceptable behavior. Continued arousal will result in further punishment.”

“Oh, Joanie, I’m sorry!” Holly said, looking hurt. “I forgot. I mean... you’re not into guys yet, and I just...”

“It’s fine,” John said through clenched teeth.” He was rapidly memorizing the first 15 or so prime numbers after all his problems restraining his libido.

“Well, you look better now,” Holly said. She picked up the small mirror and held it so John could see himself. He looked... he hated to admit it... cute. Feminine. He might even approach the girl in the mirror at a bar. And he hated it.

“C’mon. Let’s take off the makeup and take our pills before we’re punished,” Holly said.

She showed him how to wipe off his makeup. The used wipes were also disposed of down a chute that had opened. Even without makeup, John was still concerned that his appearance was unmistakably female, especially in lingerie.

“Take your pills, Joanie,” Holly said, handing him the small paper cup containing two pills and a glass of water.

“What are these for?” John asked.

“Sleep aids, to prevent us from staying up late and we think a psychotropic to enhance conditioning while we sleep. Or it could be a **** to keep us docile. Who knows? But other than knocking us out, really, we’re not sure.”

“I don’t want..” John started.

“No one does,” Holly said angrily. “I was happy before here. I was married to a woman. We had a candle shop,” she said. “But if you don’t you’ll be punished. Possibly have a patronizer clipped on you and subjected to God knows what. You can’t win here. There is no out. There is no escape, Joanie. Just do it. Please?”

Holly put both pills in her mouth and swallowed.

John hesitated. “Prisoner 1LEZ4535 has yet to take her medications,” the computer said, as if eavesdropping on the conversation. “Failure to do so in 30 seconds will result in severe punishment.”

“Please?” Holly said again, pleadingly.

John cursed and swallowed the pills.

“Thank you,” said Holly, quietly. She climbed up into her bunk and John took great pains to not look at her ass as she did. He’d had enough shocks for one day. He crawled into the lower bunk and laid on his back, not used to the protruding mounds on his chest, his heels causing his feet to assume an awkward position.

“Holly?” He asked. “What do you think happens in the male prisons like this?” John said.

“They drink beer and get a pot belly. Pity, because a six pack is so hot on a guy..”

“I can’t believe you said that!” John said, surprised.

“Me neither,” Holly said, a melancholy tone on her voice. “See Joanie. It’s inevitable.”

They sat in silence for several minutes. The lights went out with a loud click. And John started hearing whispers coming from beneath his head. He tried to figure out what the noise was, if it was saying anything, what it was staying... he thought he heard the word, “girl,” but he fell sound asleep trying to figure it out, the pills kicking in quickly.