The Girl They Sold to the Moon Read Online Free

inspections. She waited for Dorothy outside the curtained room, and took up a position in line in front of her. The line moved toward a circular rotunda that had a main check-in station in front of a row of labeled doors.
    â€œThat was
disgusting
, Dorothy,” Tilly spat. “There was no reason for it!”
    â€œWouldn’t do any good to lodge a complaint.” Dorothy’s brow glistened with sweat. “That dumb-ass kid fished around inside of me like he was looking for buried treasure or something. Maybe a contraband check, maybe a V-check? Who the hell knows in this place! I’ve never felt so damn naked in all my life.”
    Tilly knew what she meant. There wasn’t much use in palming their pelvises and throwing a forearm across their breasts. The whole thing was a freak show designed to demean and humiliate. Step out of line, question authority, or defying regulations meant swift retribution—a trip to an anteroom, where God only knew what waited for them. She had good ole dad to thank for every bit of this horror show, and wouldn’t have had a clue of what to expect if not for Dorothy’s limited knowledge.
    Eight clerks stood behind the curved check-in counter. Tilly saw an illuminated placard hanging from the ceiling that read, ASSIGNMENTS. Guide ropes led up to a turnstile, where girls waited their turn to approach a clerk. After completion with the clerk, Tilly watched the girls walk through their assigned doors. Each door had a number stamped above it, ranging from one to fifteen.
    â€œLooks like this is where we lose each other,” said Dorothy, her voice wavering. “Unless we get lucky. At least you know where you’re going.”
    â€œIt doesn’t make it any easier,” Tilly said, the fear and loneliness rising again. “Too bad we couldn’t pick our own door. I’d want the one to freedom.”
    â€œUgh, they’ve got this down to a science. It’s like an airport terminal with torture chambers.”
    When Tilly stepped up behind the turnstile, she wondered if Frampton’s guess that she was headed for the Moon was right. When asked, she recited her code number to the clerk. Her worst fear was realized when the clerk handed her a printed slip that read, Tranquility Harbor Mining Base, Entertainment Division—Block 41. The slip had a number stenciled on it. She looked for door 13 and headed toward it. She wanted so badly to stall and wait for Dorothy but a bull made sure the girls did not dally on the way. Tilly entered door 13 and walked down a hallway to find another short line that led into a large rectangular room. A stainless steel counter took up one wall. A dozen aides stood behind the counter, swiftly dispersing clothing satchels.
    â€œCode number and slip,” said the aide when Tilly stepped up.
    â€œS-9-5-5-5-3-6-5,” Tilly enunciated, surprised she still remembered it, and handed the slip over.
    â€œThis slip is your boarding pass,” said the aide, slinging a satchel on the counter and returning the hole-punched slip. “Dress-out in the next room then follow the yellow line. You have five minutes to change out.”
    Tilly could not help looking inside the satchel before she entered the dressing room. No wonder they allowed five minutes for a change-out. The sack contained seven one-piece, white latex body suits adorned with FTALC breast patches. A press-on sunflower emblem occupied both shoulder regions. Slip-on, yellow deck shoes, with socks, and seven pairs of cotton panties completed the ensemble. No bra, but the one-piece suit contained reinforced cups, presumably her exact size.
    Two bulls hurried the proceedings along, jabbing their sting wands at anyone who appeared too slow. Two girls helped another one corral her breasts into the suit before they used a double effort to zipper it up. Tilly had her suit and shoes on in three minutes, God-almighty thankful for the coverings. When she