Life for an Eye (M/f, free use, dytopia, butchering, beating)
Beatrice presented her ID to the clerk -- a mid 20s lady with a pixie cut -- and was given a nod and a smile, and maybe a "go ahead" but Bea wasn't too sure. It was routine, and had begun to lose all meaning. She'd been a volunteer for two years at this point, ever since she left college. She never finished her degree, and was left with a fair bit of debt -- a surmountable debt, but debt.
Debt, for Beatrice, or for anyone with a hole between the legs, meant volunteering one day a week at a local stress relief center. There was little room to those who couldn't earn their keep, who took more than they gave. The world was starving, Bea knew this, and understood her position. But it was just a little debt. She'd known others who had worked their way out of more. She could give a day of her week until she paid it off.
Then a year ago, she didn't look both ways before running a red light and she was consequently pulled over. She sucked her way out of having her head scattered across the windshield, but was fined. More debt. A new threshold, and now she wasn't allowed to wear tops of any fashion -- no shirts, no dresses, no brassieres. She also lost her right to report people for molesting her.
It was odd at first. For one, the cold. She had underestimated how much a simple cotton tee did to break the wind or cover from a chill, but she got used to it. For two, changing how she carried her purse. Before, she always wore it across the shoulder and over her chest, cradling the bag between her waist and arm. With a bare chest, though, Bea found no matter what kind of material the bag was made out of, she could always feel it, so she swapped to simply hanging it on her shoulder. The catcalling and groping weren't new, they were at least 12 years old, nearly half her life ago. They simply increased in frequency.
Bea sat her bag down in her cubby and turned to May, a young, ample (and bare) chested brunette who was in the process of untying her sneakers.
"How'd you do on your test?" Bea sat next to her on the bench and began to unlace her platform shoes.
The girl let her sneaker hit the floor and raised her leg to pull off her sock. "Ninety four!"
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