✅ A Dose of Humiliation

37. Negotiate

Another morning; another wet diaper. It still felt gross; and it was still a miniature hell of humiliation when I had to confess to my parents. But I also knew that it was something I had to do. It had been over a month since I got the first Punishment Pill injection; I should be looking forward to getting back to normal. But instead, waking up with the smell of pee was starting to feel almost normal, and my freedom was further away than it had ever been. I had lost count of the number of times I got a booster injection because some distraction had lured me away between class and I'd arrived late. I could probably have argued that it was a small thing to be punished for, and that it wasn't fair. But it seemed to be getting easier to do the right thing as more time passed, confirming the theory that all of these punishment boosters were helping me to reject the new habits. I thought that my drinking had gone down as well.

All that didn't make it any easier to deal with when I woke up wet. I hated the clammy feeling against my skin. And even with the diapers my parents had bought me, I still found myself having to wash all my bedding if I was moving around too much in my dreams. It was gross, and I couldn't wait for the day I would be able to get over all this.

"Good morning," Dad greeted me from the kitchen table. He must have a meeting at work; he wasn't normally up so early. I ignored him as I pushed my sheets into the washing machine, and then turned around.

"I'm sorry," I said robotically. "I wet the bed again."

"At least you're learning," he said. "If we can get your behaviour under control, we might not have to keep this up much longer."

I sighed, and didn't say anything. He didn't mean it, I was sure of that much. I'd withdrawn, cut myself off from my family, when they decided to give me that shot over my objections. And I could see Dad had reacted the same way when Becker started blackmailing him. He barely talked to Mum now. He came home and watched the TV in silence; barely acknowledged that Walt was there. He didn't talk to me even if I was out of my room. He wasn't coping; he couldn't accept what he'd done. Couldn't admit it to himself. So even when he really knew, he kept on talking as if this punishment could be justified. As if he were still in control of the situation.

"Maybe," I said. "Becker's trying to mess with Serena now. Sending her dad letters, claiming she's done all kinds of things. She thinks it's funny. Mr Tong doesn't like to deal with people saying bad things about her, so he's just getting passed around between a dozen PA's and secretaries. But now everything's moving forward, because her dad's on this executive retreat, chartered a cruise to the north pole with a bunch of bored rich guys, and he doesn't want to be disturbed."

"I hope he'll remain out of contact. Your friend seems like a good girl, she doesn't need any more discipline."

"Exactly. Her dad seems to be pretty hands off most of the time, lets her keep to herself. But if Becker's lying to get him to agree to the punishment, or doesn't disclose a conflict of interest, he's going to be in for a nasty surprise. Mr Tong has a lot of very expensive lawyers, and I heard there's a lot of judges who owe him some favours as well. But for now, it looks like the case is on hold because he's out of contact on this executive cruise. One of the teachers at school, Mr Pine, is acting as Serena's legal guardian, just in case she needs an adult to sign something while her dad's away. And she texted me last night to say that Becker's emailing Mr Pine this time, like he thinks he's found a chink in her armour. Doesn't realise that Mr Pine just signs whatever she asks him to, like it's a technicality."

"I'm not sure I understand the purpose of this... anecdote..." Dad mumbled.

"Well, it's not directly relevant. But it's like... thought it might cheer you up a little to hear that the guy who's caused us so many problems is advancing on a wasp nest with a fly swatter and an aggressive gleam in his eye. Or in a more pragmatic way, think about all the things he did to 'help' you. Filling in the forms to give me this shot, telling you what to put down, and making sure it's illegal. He does that with somebody who has a full-time staff of lawyers. You can bet there's going to be an inspection, all his previous customers will have the forms assessed, but they'll already know who's responsible. Could mean he hasn't got anything to hold over you anymore."

"And then you'll stop with the wild parties? Becker isn't the... nicest person. He refuses to even acknowledge your mother. But it's you I'm worried about. I don't want you building your life around drink and drugs."

"Trust me, I don't want to drink. And as soon as this stuff stops messing up my brain, I promise I'll do my best to quit. I just want to be myself again. No booze, no big parties. And hopefully I'll be able to focus on my work properly. I just want to get back to normal. So I can help my friends, instead of having everyone else watching out for me."

There was a long pause. Dad was watching me as I fixed my breakfast now, and I knew he had something to say before I could ask him about the latest message from Elspeth.

"I had a note from your school," he said, as I sat down with a hot pastry. "The school nurse reported that you might have been using... illegal substances. Is this something else we need to add to the rules?"

"No," I said right away. "Okay, I took some stuff by mistake. It looked like a soft drink, and it wasn't. But I know that now, and I'm not going to make that mistake again."

"Okay then, just promise me you're never going to touch that stuff again. Or anything else of that kind. And you need to make a report. Let the school know if there's kids taking–"

"No," I cut him off this time. "They're responsible, they know what they're doing. They know their own limits, and they watch out for each other. And they're not selling it. Ste gets it from his cousin in Auckland, you can buy it over the counter there. And it's a schedule three-point-four semi-regulated substance. The law only prohibits buying and selling it, importing for profit, attempting to refine it, or using it as part of a deceptive or manipulative interaction. Taking it for fun is legal. And if you're around people you can trust, it's probably safer than alcohol. I'm not going to bring down an unnecessary investigation on a couple of friends who I know are strictly following the letter of the law. They're not hurting anyone."

"But you could have been–" he started, and then apparently realised that he didn't know how to finish that sentence. That quickly confirmed my suspicion that he didn't actually know what I'd taken, or what the consequences could have been. "Okay. Just promise me these friends are going to be more careful in future. They're not going to give it to anyone else who doesn't know what she's taking. And that they won't be pushing you to try it again."

"They won't," I told him. And decided that in the circumstances, the truth was probably the best option. "I asked, and Jo– One of the guys told me I couldn't have any more. Not until he's sure I'm in a state to make a rational choice. Frustrating, but I can understand where he's coming from. And I'm not going to take it lightly. I am going to try it again, and I know you'll hate that, but I promise I'm going to wait until I can make a proper plan, to make sure that I can do it safely. This isn't the punishment pill messing with my impulse control. This is me balancing how it makes me feel against everything that could go wrong, reading up all the medical data sheets and side effects, so that I can decide if it's worth it. And I think it is. Not now, I think. But someday, when I've got a boyfriend and we can do it together perhaps... I know most people wouldn't say this. But with my brain like it is, I want you to know the truth. This is something I've thought about, and I'm going to do it in the future. Not breaking the law, and it's not going to hurt me, but I know you'll disapprove. So I thought I should tell you in advance. So you know I'm not being reckless."

"Right... So this drug..."

"Trust me, you don't want to know any more. But it's not going to be soon, anyway. I just wanted you to know what's going on in my head. Trust me, this isn't something I'm diving into. And if you find out I've tried it, I want you to know that it's not something I'm jumping into without thinking a couple of years from now."

He didn't say anything as I finished my breakfast. Clearly he didn't approve; but he knew there was nothing else he could say now. Trying to control me had ended up threatening his career and his whole lifestyle, as well as putting me in hell, and on some level he was afraid to mess up like that again. So this time it was my turn to raise a new subject.

"I got a text from Elspeth," I told him. "She's trying to set up something to celebrate her birthday. Probably a sleepover, just a few friends. Is that okay with you?"

It was the first time I'd said I wanted to visit a friend since he'd tried to make asking permission one of the rules. I was pretty sure I didn't have to ask; that wasn't something he had a right to control after I was eighteen. But I asked anyway, hoping that would restore his confidence in me. I might decide to go even if he said no; but I wanted to at least ask. And I hoped that telling him everything would help him to trust me more.

Hoping was all that I could do.