Lara Swift is Colonized Ch. 06

"Go faster, girl. Your clients won't tolerate amateur service," Miss Galkowska warned.

Lara wished she at least had a pair of gloves as she gripped each one of Danielle's long toes to trim and file her nails. Next was the exfoliation – Lara grabbed a foot file and briskly rubbed it back and forth against Danielle's soles to loosen up the dry skin. The following massage lasted for quite some time, and Miss Galkowska gave her detailed directions on how to give a good foot rub. It basically entailed Lara using her thumbs to energetically create deep pressure on different parts of Danielle's soft soles, and stroking them up and down in small motions. Lara also copied some of the strokes that she remembered her favorite massage therapists had done on her own feet, to great effect.

It was hell on Lara's hands – although it obviously did feel good for her partner. Danielle even complimented Lara on her work, but it wasn't enough to make up for the fact that the joints in Lara's shapely thumbs were nearly burning from over exertion. As Lara massaged one of Danielle's feet, the girl rested the other on Lara's knee – it felt like her entire world was occupied by the things she loathed most. Honestly, though, Lara did feel a moment of pride when Danielle wriggled her toes appreciatively at the end of the massage. Their lives were so difficult here that she was glad to create some happiness for one of the other students.

"Now, the polish," Miss Galkowska said, handing Lara a bottle of red varnish.

Her first attempt was utterly bad. There was nail showing beneath the polish, and at a few points it had flooded over to the cuticle area, ruining the aesthetic. Miss Galkowska was quick in her criticism.

"Terrible work, pet."

Lara cringed at the insult. How awful it was, to have to appease this woman who never seemed satisfied with anything!

"Try again. If you don't improve, maybe you are not cut out to be a pedicurist. Maybe we will train you to do exotic dancing instead."

Lara removed the polish from Danielle's toes, and prepared to go again.

"Oh, and you must do the polish it in half the time... Go!"

As twisted as this was, Lara's mind still relished a challenge. Even a challenge as trivial and insulting as this one triggered the old Lara – the girl who sought to triumph in everything that she did. In a way, she was glad for it: as her mind worked to improve on her previous attempt, it felt like she was actually doing something of significance. This was quite welcome after a seeming eternity of doing nothing. This time Lara did a much better job, even though there was still much room for improvement.

"Not bad for a beginner," Miss Galkowska said, "you still have a lot to learn, but this is passable. For now."

This trend continued through the coming days and weeks.

Lara was amazed at how much there was to learn about the art and science of manicuring. Miss Galkowska provided her with books – actual books – on how to massage, how to do certain nail art, and how to best apply polish. Lara devoured the material, totally fascinated by something that she would have found utterly trivial back when she was a free girl.

What else did Lara have to look forward to? The smart screen that featured submissive lesbians being exploited by attractive rich girls? Lengthy sessions of masturbation that never seemed to go anywhere, except left her craving orgasms all the more? She devoured the reading material.

Although she came to enjoy the vocational training, Lara was still bothered by the lessons she was receiving in 'comportment'.

Miss Galkowska's philosophy flew in the face of everything that Lara believed. She was nearly Victorian in her thinking that women should be seen and not heard, and that the world outside the home belonged to men. This was exceptionally strange because Lara couldn't picture Miss Galkowska submitting to any man – did she even believe the things she was espousing?

The blonde woman would have group discussions with Lara and the rest of the students in a style that would nearly be Socratic. Except for the fact that she obviously expected them to agree with her and uncritically support her various points. They took turns focusing on each girls' neurosis, and the other students were expected to advocate Miss Galkowska's position to help bring each other around to a new way of thinking. Each student seemed to have her own sets of conditions that triggered their neurosis and their treatment worked along these lines.

Danielle, for example, wasn't instructed to bow down to every man in her life the way Lara was. Her lessons were more centered around humility and the joy of service. And a one-sided generosity that basically amounted to her working for free while someone else made a fortune off her work.

An early lesson stuck with Lara.

"You must learn to accept that women are inferior to men in every sense except for one: your femininity," Miss Galkowska said, citing a critic by the name of Altick.

"Keeping that in mind, you will need to perfect your womanly charms. When talking to a man – any man – it is important you show him deference. Laugh at his jokes, and show complete fascination in everything he says. Show him your vulnerability. He should walk away from the conversation thinking you are a weak, needy little thing that needs his support and protection."

For Lara, this was particularly offensive. Acting like some damsel in distress! What was the point – most men she encountered were boors. Especially the ones who expected to always have the upper hand in a relationship. She certainly didn't need anyone to provide for her, not with her inheritance –

Then it dawned on her: that was exactly what she needed, now. It pained her to know that she would need to go against her feminist ideals and act like some girl who was desperate to be a trophy wife. Ugh, Errol would love that, wouldn't he?

Lara in a fetching cocktail dress and flawless makeup, hanging on his every word and working her charms on him. She nearly rolled her eyes at the idea, but then she imagined kneeling down so he could 'help her with her treatment' by using her sexually.

That was only one part of her therapy, but there was more.

Just as Lara had heard the heavily-edited versions of how the other girls came to be here, Dr. Wu had begun with instructing Lara on her own history. It happened during their therapy sessions; the Asian woman would prod and hoodwink a sleep-deprived Lara with pointless minutiae that would only confuse and frustrate her. Then, when Lara was softened up, Dr. Wu would lay into her. Even at her best, Lara would have had a difficult time resisting the master psychologist's suggestions and arguments. In her current condition, though, it was hopeless.

To her disgrace, Lara broke down crying in nearly every one of their sessions. The Asian woman deliberately provoked this reaction in her. It took less and less effort for the doctor to reduce her to tears each time; at first Lara would only cry after a lengthy shellacking and after holding her own for quite a while. But over time, Lara's mental fortitude slipped and degraded until she would be wiping back tears from one pointed remark about her poverty. Or when Dr. Wu would force her to speculate on whether her family's estate was even standing anymore – maybe it had been auctioned off as part of a settlement for her crime? How much money would it fetch for Lord Errol, anyway?

Nor could Lara remain passive during these sessions. No, Dr. Wu recruited Lara as a co-conspirator in her own unraveling. During therapy, the woman would say things like:

"In my opinion, this compulsion of yours is looking extremely deep-rooted. You might never be rid of it... I'm going to need you to keep track of how much time you spend masturbating."

They could have known this without needing her help! But instead, Dr. Wu made Lara confront her own deviancy and spend even more mental energy constantly thinking about this issue, which only made it worse. All this, while brushing over the fact that the Institution had instilled the compulsion within her in the first place!

Or Dr. Wu would say, "Should we try again with the photo of your mother? I think that if you reach a climax while staring into her eyes, it would be profoundly beneficial to your therapy! It might even be the last step towards your release."

That last one was the worst.

Dr. Wu and Miss Galkowska had, after a while, strictly forbidden Lara from cumming – even though they still expected her to remain on edge for unearthly amounts of time. They would tease her with photos of her own mother, to frustrate her. Although Lara's sexual frustration kept her in a near constant and annoying pain, she could not accept their horrendous terms for her release.

Dr. Wu told Lara that if she were to refuse anything, ever, she was to act like an embarrassed young woman who was begging her mother not to show a friend an embarrassing photo of her. 'Noooo~! Please! Can we just... not? Please?' and so on in a high-energy, animated, but totally nonthreatening way. Like her entire strategy was to act so cute that her rival took pity on her.

Lara knew that someday would come the hammer blow to her self esteem from which she could probably never recover. She wanted to cum so badly, though! It was difficult to stop masturbating on the times she brought herself to. And each time it got more difficult. Lara had the sensation that she was in a labyrinth, and all her progress was along a single path leading to that decisive moment.

Even apart from that, Dr. Wu's therapy sessions were highly influential on the poor girl. Here was the story Dr. Wu gave Lara:

The woman's basic point was that Lara was a deeply submissive nymphomaniac with lesbian tendencies, and her crime against Mrs. Liao was a symptom of her incurable mental illness. Lara was floored when she first heard it – nobody could possibly believe something so outlandish! But over the course of her treatment, the doctor whittled away at her bit by bit. First she got Lara to agree that she found women sexually attractive. Although this was true, the doctor had made created so much guilt and shame around the issue that Lara found it completely embarrassing to admit. From there, the doctor started addressing Lara's class consciousness and linking that to this issue.

Why would Lara be so obsessed with poor unfortunates if she didn't want to be a part of their ranks? Spending her youth bowing and scraping before more wealthy people, but especially women. Waiting on them hand, foot, and finger for a little bit of their table scraps which she would never eat while seated at the same table as her superiors. Not anymore – those days were long gone.

No, Lara would eat in the servant's quarters if she were lucky. More likely, she would have it right out of the palm of whoever deigned to share with her. Daintily, too, and without the use of her hands, which were to remain flat on the floor. Just like how she ate her pink sludge from her food bowl beneath Miss Galkowska's watchful eye.

It was often Robin Woodward's hands that Lara was eating from, in her imagination, and for good reason.

When Lara refused to masturbate while looking at the photo of her own mother, the 'compromise' was for her to instead work her way through every photo on all of Robin's social media pages. This took quite some time – the girl had hundreds of pictures, each one showing her beautiful body in a very flattering way. This was especially cruel for Lara, who had been locked in this Institution for so long, and now could see that Robin was carrying about her life as normal the entire time.

In one variant of this therapy, Lara would have to touch herself while Dr. Wu held a photo of Robin, and she was forced to obey the woman's directions the entire time.

"Look at her ankles," the Asian doctor would say, "Imagine yourself kissing them as she lounges by the pool. Now stare at her breasts... Good! Now look at her shoes – aren't they nice? They require hand-polishing to maintain that shine. Picture yourself doing that..."

Some of the photos of Robin were nudes – clearly not suitable for posting online. The wealthy blonde girl would be wearing silk stockings and crotchless panties, staring at the camera invitingly with one hand pointing to her tight pussy. She had that smug look on her face, as though to say, "do you know how lucky you are to see this?"

Lara despised herself for viewing her friend in such a sexual way, but Robin was truly beautiful if one could just put aside her terrible attitude. The photos were curated towards a certain perspective: they inspired awe, admiration, and almost worship of the aristocratic girl. Lara was reminded of the term 'divine right.'

Doubtless, this was another way to reinforce the idea in Lara's mind that she was a submissive lesbian. After all, who else would spend hours, and days masturbating to photos of a single dominant woman! The fact that Lara couldn't finish made it all the more annoying – there was never any reprieve from her frustration. Thoughts of submission ran around her head incessantly, carving grooves into her thinking that got entrenched with alarming speed.

They only got deeper. Like the rest of her treatment, Lara was expected to be in active participant in this, too. She was told to imagine herself as one of Robin's followers. No longer a friend, but a fawning admirer who hoped to win the girl's favor by doing whatever she said and complimenting her all the time.

"Robin's hair is beautiful here," she would say, "she is such an amazing girl!"

"Her feet would look nice with a deep purple nail polish on her nails – I wonder why she hasn't tried it before? Pity those shoes need a touch up,..."

Lara observed that it was almost exclusively Robin pictured in these photos. The posh girl might have been standing on a yacht, or eating in an upscale restaurant, but even if she clearly had company the photos generally showed just her. There was, at best, the suggestion of other people such as a pair of feminine hands massaging her bare feet as she relaxed in a nail salon, but Lara pretty much only saw Robin's face. Through this, they managed to deepen Lara's sense of isolation by reminding her of the world outside of this place in a very specific and unfair way.

Robin, eating the finest food in the world with polished silverware while Lara ate tasteless mush out of a food bowl meant for a cat. Robin, getting a deep tissue massage all over her nude, porcelain body while Lara couldn't count the number of welts the cane had bestowed upon her own.

Apparently the girl had become even more fantastically wealthy during the recent cryptocurrency fad by investing heavily in Helix coins right before their value went up twenty-fold.

Now Robin favored the logo of the coin that had enriched her: two spiral helixes, similar to DNA, that wrapped around each other in the symbol of eternity. She was practically a brand ambassador for Helix: the unique logo decorated the wheels of her Lamborghini, the wings of her private jet, and many of her other luxury goods. Dr. Wu even speculated that Robin's fortune probably surpassed Lara's old one, which wasn't hers anymore, anyway.

"And hopefully Errol does a better job of managing the estate than you did!"

In this manner, they picked away at Lara's ego bit by bit, like with a small chisel they would hand off to one another. Their attention to detail was awe-inspiring. So was their commitment to transforming Lara into a meek, submissive lesbian who craved a strong hand to keep her in line. Lara did not desire strong governance over herself, nor did she enjoy another person's dominion over every facet of her being. She craved these things: every exacting rule, each petty restriction became the bedrock of her character – the harbor wall that kept the ocean of anxiety away. These things became the touchstone to how she saw and defined the world, and her place within it.

Just as the Institution had changed Lara's eyes, they changed her way of seeing.

It was painful for Lara to imagine going without a strong authority controlling her life – to do so caused a tremendous anxiety attack and psychological withdrawal symptoms worse than any she had felt from her powerful nicotine addiction. Eventually, the very thought of resisting an order, no matter how humiliating or degrading, brought on waves of existential dread. She tried on occasion and always failed – and each failure deepened her dependence on the Institution and its staff.

The girl was amazed and terrified at the totality of it – the Black Hole could reach deep into her mind to places she thought were inviolate, then contaminate it with their corrupt notions. She was reminded of the way a gifted massage therapist might access an unreachable bundle of nerves by skillfully manipulating her body, touching on seemingly unrelated areas, then finally hitting the intended nerve bundles with decisive strokes.

Lara was participating in a particularly cruel classroom game when it happened.

Nurse Cerys opened the door, and called for Lara to follow her. There was a flash of upset in Miss Galkowska's eyes, but she gave no other recognition of Lara's departure from the classroom. As Lara left, another student took her place on the pedestal in the center of the room. Today's 'game' entailed one girl standing nude on the pedestal, and all the other students would point out the things that could be improved about her body, her comportment, or her attitude. It was psychologically devastating – a caustic blend of body shame, fear of public speaking, and the sensation of being a social outcast all rolled into one.

They had done this game several times. The result was that now, even when Lara was alone, she was terribly embarrassed to be in the nude. Despite her spectacular beauty, she was beset by neuroses – certain to blush and to stammer at the slightest glance in her direction while still making no effort to hide herself.

Fear towered over every other emotion as she followed Nurse Cerys down the hallway to Dr. Wu's office. She had time to change into her school uniform, except for her shoes. Her impossibly long hair swayed with each step of her soft, dainty feet.

Dr. Wu began right away.

"Lara, please listen carefully. We don't have much time. Mrs. Liao is in the other room. So is Lord Errol, and Robin Woodward."

"What?" Lara squeaked.

The day she had been waiting for had come at last! She could finally get the hell out of here! But why did she feel so afraid?

"Yes. Everything is set for you to leave today. Your therapy is so close to being finished, there's just one more thing," the Asian woman said.

Lara was gripped by the blackest fear she had ever felt. They couldn't! They couldn't possibly expect her to do that!

"Your Uncle Errol will require the location of your father's last will and testament. Mrs. Liao has a contract for you to sign – you will surrender your British citizenship, give your title as the Lady of Abington over to her, and agree to make amends to her by being her domestic servant. No matter how long it takes."

Lara's heart hammered in her chest. They had been preparing her for this moment for so long – but to what end? Not to make it any easier. Just the opposite: she had been building it up in Lara's mind – making the girl watch as she raised the executioner's axe slowly, with the full understanding of what would happen next.

"Your friend Robin Woodward insists that you pay her back for her generous loan she provided on your behalf to secure your spot in this Institution. She owns a nail salon now, and is quite excited to have you on board."

Lara nodded, even though she wanted to cry.

"It's time for the final part of your therapy here," Dr. Wu said, indicating the photo of Lara's mother.