chapter 2

Ella stood facing the automatic front doors of the hospital, meagre carpet bag in one hand, the other fist clenched as she enjoyed her last few moments of fresh air. Who knows when she'd next be allowed to?

The hospital was new and clean, built purely for this initiative when the war broke out. Ella gazed at the shiny gold plaque which confirmed the the building had finished construction in 2062, just last year. It was a huge chrome monstrosity, designed to house hundreds of women in the area. There were at least 3 of these in every city in the country. Ella took one last deep breath (thinking about how she was not alone in this, reminding herself that she was doing her duty to the country she loved) and stepped inside.

The moment she entered, the white and chrome room seemed to register her presence by naming her in an automated voice, requesting that she went through the double doors to the waiting area and informing her that Doctor Thompson would be with her shortly. Shaking her blonde curls, Ella complied, starting off down the corridor, huddle of chairs at the end in sight. There were many doors on the way, all locked and windowless, silent except for the groans and deep breathing. Ella shivered in horror, wondering what was going to happen to her when a strong hand clapped her shoulder making her jump out of her skin, whipping round to face him.

"So you must be Ella Wright, patient 8097? Pleasure to meet you, I'm Doctor Thompson and I will be in charge of you treatment and care at the women's initiative facility. I'm the one you call if you're in pain, have any questions or if you just want a friendly ear to listen to you." His green eyes twinkled enticingly in his tanned face, meeting my blue ones. One gaze and my fear and anticipation melted away. One look and he had me eating out of his hand. Literally. He gave me a large chocolate bar to "get my blood sugar up before cracking right on with the first procedure".

We got the room he was looking for and he took me straight over to measure and weigh me, getting a measuring tape and calipers out of a drawer. He got my height, weight, hips, waist, bust, calves thighs, more measurements than I could count. I was too busy paying attention to his smooth fingers touching my body. At first I was smug - I knew I had a hot body, everyone had always said so - but my confidence shrank rapidly as with each measurement, the doctor seemed more and more disappointed. I'd barely known the guy for five minutes but that's all the time it took for me to know that I didn't ever want to disappoint him.

With a deep sigh, he scooped me up with ease and placed me on the examining table. I gulped, dreading to hear his next words, totally unprepared for what came out next.

"I'm so sorry Ella but at your current physical stage, I would be incredibly concerned about inseminating you. Your poor starved body can barely sustain itself, let alone an unborn child. Your breasts are too small to produce an adequate quantity of milk to help your children grow big and strong and I'm personally extremely concerned about your clear ill health even without the procedure altogether. Do you know about the risks of malnutrition? You could die unless you let me help you. I can help you put on some weight and cure you from this terrible ailment, then we could even continue your participation in the initiative. Will you let me help you, Ella?"

My mouth was open in response to this emotional and caring explanation. I was shocked that it seemed I was ill, I'd always thought that skinny was healthier than fat any day but one more look into those earnest green eyes and I knew I must have been so wrong all these years. I knew deep down that I wanted to not be ill anymore, I wanted to have babies, I wanted to get fat and I wanted this hunk of a man to help me do it.