Humble

“What are you waiting for?”

“You saw some of them soiled themselves in the van?”

The newest recruit nodded. “Yeah, that was nasty.” He’d had to escort them to the showers, put up with the smell, avoid walking in the drips left by some of them.

“Well, this one didn’t, so we’re giving her a chance now.”

“We’re what? You want her to soil herself?”

The experienced guard nodded. “Yes, it humbles them, makes them easier to control, sets the tone right from the start.”

Silence as the recruit pondered that. It ended with another question.

“But it’s been hours, and she’s still stood there.”

His mentor nodded. “Yeah, this might be a difficult one. I’d better go and sort her.”

They stepped away from the one-way glass, circled around through the corridor and into the reception room. She was still stood there, still looked clean but as they entered it was clear she wasn’t. She saw them and gave a weak vulnerable smile, but said nothing.

The recruit stayed back, watched, eager to learn and keen to avoid getting too close to the woman that must have soiled herself even if there wasn’t a puddle at her feet, if her skirt still looked clean and dry.

The experienced guard was surprised by her calm, worried by the smile. He’d dealt with tough cases before though, knew just the right way to break her equanimity. Striding to the table he pulled a hard wooden chair out from under it, positioning it facing the table then walk around and sat in the nicely upholstered one on the other side.

She looked at him, glanced at the wooden chair, looked back at him. She seemed to know that sitting on that hard wood would be uncomfortable, force the mess she’d made against her skin, was almost asking him if he realised and wanted that.

He absolutely did. “Sit,” he commanded.

She shrugged, moved carefully to the chair and smoothed her skirt below her as she sat. It was a slow, drawn out process, her eyes in contact with his throughout, watching his reaction, hiding her own. The recruit, stood the side, cringed and winced as her skirt made contact with the chair, then her thighs, finally her full weight off her feet.

His colleague gave a short smile of satisfaction as he saw her expression change at last, discomfort reaching her face, the signals from her body confirming her fears about the hard surface below her. Then she shocked him and smiled back. Her hips wriggled a little, squirming in her seat, a woman finding a comfortable seating position.

Looking at his astonished face she smiled, a big happy delighted smile, and spoke for the first time. “Can I have a change please?”