Keeper of the Pees

Helen sat at her desk. She had made it all the way to three in the afternoon without issue, but that glass of water she had with lunch was now betraying her. She was out of options. She had to pee. She would have just left work and gone home, but she had done that too many times this week, and there was no way her manager would let her off again. Helen sighed, got up from her desk, and walked towards the BS checkpoint.

This isn’t how it was meant to be, she said to herself. They had told her that trans women were dangerous, that action had to be taken to keep women safe. Her feed was full of stories about trans women assaulting women in bathrooms and locker rooms or entering sporting contests to steal medals from women. Now that she reflected on it, they were always scant on the details of incidents. Being a woman, Helen had been all in favour of keeping women safe. Dee, her daughter, had railed against her, calling her a transphobe. She had been like this ever since she went to that damn university. Always going on about racism and transphobia and such. Helen had just ignored her and dismissed it as part of the brainwashing her teachers had put her through. All of Helen’s friends agreed that we had to do something about trans people in women’s spaces. So they had voted for the people who said they would do something about it.

True to their word, the new government swiftly created the Bathroom Service, or BS as it is commonly referred to, a new policing unit who were in charge of making sure people used the bathroom according to their biological sex. At first, they were just regular police and had little power other than to make random spot checks in busy bathrooms. The trans people and their allies were smart, though; they always seemed to know what bathroom was about to be inspected and when, and so no trans women were ever caught during this time. Public tip-off phone lines set up for people to report trans women in the wrong bathrooms were flooded with prank calls. Surveillance equipment was vandalised within hours of being installed.

The BS was a joke, and no one really paid much attention to them. But then massive expansion began. Conscription drives recruited a massive amount of new officers for the BS. New uniforms came in. All black. The black latex gloves that people would come to fear. The black caps emblazoned with ‘BS’ in a font Helen swore she had seen somewhere before.

Checkpoints were set up at all public bathrooms and in the bathrooms of major businesses. People had to show a valid ID attesting to their biological sex before they were allowed admittance. Of course, trans people were quick to get fake IDs and avoid the whole thing. Many solutions were tried in order to solve this problem. Sending people through X-rays or full body scanners multiple times a day would expose people to far too much radiation. MRIs were too bulky and specialised to fit into every public toilet, and most people would get kidney failure holding their bladder all the way to the nearest hospital. Genetic testing had similar drawbacks: results would be returned far too slowly. So, the BS went with the simplest low-tech method they could: full-body inspections.

At this point, more people than just the queers had resisted. Nobody liked being violated by the BS’s black gloves. Helen had never thought she would be affected by all of this. How would anyone ever think she was trans? It was insulting. People protested. Some rushed toilets on mass to overwhelm the BS checkpoints. Others wore dozens of layers of clothing at once to waste the BS’s time. Some wore metal underwear akin to chastity belts that were impenetrable to the BS. Again, the BS solved this with the simplest solution they could think of: violence. Any resistance shown at a checkpoint could result in beatings or worse. New camps were established to intern BS resisters. Nobody knew exactly what happened in these camps as no one ever seemed to leave, but the rumours weren’t good.

Helen knew these rumours well. Dee had, of course, been one of the protestors. Helen wished she had listened to her and not made too much of a scene. But Dee staged a protest at the cafe she worked in. She had tried to get the customers to storm the bathrooms with her. It had failed, and the BS had dragged her off to a camp. Helen had never seen her again. She didn’t even know what camp she was in. Helen had voted them in, and now, her daughter was gone. She just wanted to make bathrooms safe for women. She didn’t want this.

People got scared. Everyone started peeing outside on mass as it was the obvious way around being fondled by the black gloves. Entire gardens were poisoned beyond repair. There were mass plant die-offs. Wildfires raged in the dead vegetation. Of course, they blamed trans activists for lighting the fires without proof. Eventually more BS officers were recruited to patrol gardens and forests, disappearing anyone they found with an empty bladder. People stopped going outside.

Gastrostop became the most popular medication overnight. Shortages have been constant. Cathadars also sold out quickly, a painful solution but better for many than dealing with the BS. But this quickly became a problem as hospitals ran out of stock for patients. Even their bedpans started disappearing. People with gastroenteritis died from dehydration as a result of not being able to get Gastrostop. Hospital surgeries were taken up by the wealthy, getting bladder-widening surgeries. So, the BS was once again forced to intervene and conduct random inspections on people. Everyone had to endure them emptying their bags, looking for any drugs. Pulling down your pants and checking there was nothing untoward about your genitals.

Obviously, after all this, everyone who could work from home did. But soon, the government started quoting domestic violence statistics. Saying that most assaults occur in the home. And since all trans people were staying home to use their private toilets, that must be the cause. So, new mandates came in that private residences must have gender-segregated bathrooms. Surveillance equipment and random inspections by BS officers ensured compliance. Families started going bankrupt from the costs of renovating their houses. Poorer families just split up and formed new single-sex households.

The economy tanked. Cafes and bars closed when no one wanted to do anything that could risk them needing to pee in public. Entire fields of wheat went to waste as everybody swore off fibre. The retail industry collapsed as no one wanted to go to stores and no one wanted to be a delivery driver as the risk of needing to pee in public was too great.

Helen was lucky her job still existed. Well, some would say she was lucky. She didn’t feel particularly lucky as she made her way over to the checkpoint. She saw a slimy smirk form on the face of the office’s BS commander as she approached. He tightened his gloves as she got near and asked, “Going to the bathroom, Ma’am?”

“Yes, I was hoping to.”

“Well, I’m going to have to inspect you, Ma’am.”

He reached out with his horrible black glove and touched her shoulder.

She shuddered, “Look, I’m obviously not trans. You just called me Ma’am, after all. Can’t we just skip it this time?”

“Sorry, rules are rules,” he said, and another horrid grin formed on his face. He started pulling on her top.

Maybe it was one too many times. Maybe it was the loss of her daughter weighing on her mind. But Helen snapped, “Don’t touch me!” she yelled and ripped herself free of his grasp.

It had been a while since the BS commander had faced any resistance, so at first, he was too stunned to respond.

“Where is my daughter?” Helen screamed at him, “What have you done with her?” Another officer attempted to grab her and calm her, but she shook him off, “Get your hands off me! I’m not trans! Neither of us are! You can’t keep doing this! Where is she?”

“Ma’am, please calm down!” said the commander as calmly as he could.

The whole office was looking on, terrified at the scene playing out in front of them. None of them were brave enough to stand up to the BS.

“Why won’t you tell me where she is? Is she dead? Is that why you won’t answer me? Did you fucking kill her? She wasn’t trans!”

“If you do not calm down, we will have to arrest you!”

“Please! Just tell me where she is!”

This time, two officers attempted to grab her. She struggled, shoving them, trying to squirm out of their grasp, but they were too strong.

“Get off me!” she yelled, “I’m not trans!”

“Get her out of here,” the BS commander barked at his officers.

“Get off me! Where is she? Where is she? Please, just tell me!” she screamed as the two officers dragged her out of the office. The door slammed, and soon her cries disappeared. The office was silent for a bit, but soon, the clacking of fingers on keyboards resumed as if nothing had happened.