{"id":1927,"date":"2021-01-19T15:05:12","date_gmt":"2021-01-19T15:05:12","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/selectacorp.dk\/wordpress\/?page_id=1927"},"modified":"2021-01-27T15:52:44","modified_gmt":"2021-01-27T15:52:44","slug":"company-man-sample-chapters","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/selectacorp.dk\/wordpress\/company-man-sample-chapters\/","title":{"rendered":"Company Man sample chapters"},"content":{"rendered":"

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Author\u2019s Note<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Dear Reader,<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

What you\u2019re about to read started as an adult NSFW game I developed years ago.  Corporate Raider was actually a trilogy, each game a learning project, with each building on the previous one.  It presented a dystopian corporate gamescape in the near future where the Player was invited to rape and pillage his way, all in pinstripes, through a company\u2014 a kind of modern Viking, clutching a bag of credit cards in one hand and a female executive captive thrown over his shoulder.  Politically incorrect, to say the least!<\/p>\n

That game trilogy was well received and I proceeded, with encouragement, to develop other games that all shared the same aesthetic\u2014a \u2018day after tomorrow\u2019 world where sexual norms are re-set by the Player to establish their own private kingdoms of the imagination\u2014realms where they set the rules and dark desires run rampant and unchecked.  Why not?  That\u2019s what games are for!<\/p>\n

Company Man<\/em><\/strong> is a novelisation of a re-boot of that original Corporate Raider trilogy.  It is written from a myriad of perspectives about what happens when an agent manages to wage a war of subversion within a post-modern corporation and the inevitable changes that occur in the people around him, for good or ill.  It basically poses this question- if YOU had the power to make the rules in a company that you controlled, what would you do\u2014 and to whom would you do it?  <\/p>\n

Before I go, let me offer a caveat.  If you\u2019re looking for a non-stop stream of BING-BANG bodily collisions, this ain\u2019t for you.  I\u2019m a slow burn guy and I\u2019m going to clear paths for you that at times may challenge your patience.  If you\u2019re looking for fine literature, which is far less likely, this sure as hell ain\u2019t it\u2014though this is porn that, at times, has literary pretensions!  That all said, if you\u2019re looking for a deep dive into dark sexual fantasies with heavily non-consensual themes, you\u2019ll feel right at home. <\/p>\n

Just a final note: if you find you enjoy strolling through the world you\u2019re about to step into, consider joining and supporting us at www.Selectacorp.com<\/a>(our forum) or enjoying the loads of free content at www.Selectacorp.dk\/wordpress (our free content site), where you can enjoy loads of other games, interactive fiction and more.  Finally, if you wish to support and make more of this content possible, consider supporting me at www.Patreon.com\/Selectacorp.   <\/p>\n

That\u2019s enough from me.  I hope you find reading the following story as much fun as I had writing it!<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Best, as always,<\/p>\n

Selecta (always on a beach somewhere)[\/vc_column_text][vc_column_text]COMPANY MAN<\/strong><\/p>\n

PROLOGUE 1- HEN HOUSE<\/strong><\/p>\n

Wherein we meet Deborah Jones, our heroine!<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I love myself, I want you to love me
\nWhen I feel down, I want you above me<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cWake up Chipmunk\u201d The young female voice sounded insistent over the gradually raising volume of the music while  the overhead fluorescent bulb flicked on<\/p>\n

God I hate being called that.<\/em> Deborah stirred in her bed and reached for her head to remove her sleeping earphones, all the while the voice in her earphones repeated \u201cWake up Chipmunk\u201d. She always found it unreasonable difficult to manipulate the locks to turn and unlock the earphones, which had been whispering instructions to her while she slept.<\/p>\n

\u201cFuck!\u201d Deborah cursed. Chicklet, had, once again, managed to pull the thin cotton blanket over to her side. Selfish bitch<\/em>, Deborah thought, then yanked it back to her side. They had to get up anyway, so it barely mattered. But she needed to make the point, if only to prove to herself that she had a shred of will and authority left in herself. It was always cool in their room. Cool in the winter and too warm in the summer. For a moment, Deborah leaned back in bed and basked in Chicklet\u2019s warmth still trapped in the blanket. She finally managed to remove the now unlocked earphones, too. This did not stop either the incessant voice nor the music. The computer generated assistant continued from the sound system along with the song now playing at normal dormitory music volume<\/p>\n

I search myself, I want you to find me
\nI forget myself, I want you to remind me<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cGood morning Chipmunk. A good Artemis Girl doesn\u2019t swear. I\u2019m sorry but I have to have to log it.\u201d The AI assistant managed to sound like a mildly disappointed governess talking to an unruly child.<\/p>\n

Damn<\/em>. Deborah hadn\u2019t yet gotten used to the new feature designed to \u2019help young ladies improve their language\u2019. The speech recognition was improving all the time and the engineers behind it were using Artemis Girls to perfect it. After all, everything she said and did was not only being listening to by her smart watch 24\/7 but also recorded for \u2018verification purposes\u2019.<\/p>\n

Dormitory Girls are great test subjects<\/em>, Deborah thought bitterly. After, all someone else might have pesky privacy concerns about being recorded 24\/7. Or demand getting paid for it.<\/p>\n

Chicklet was stretching and yawning.  Like her bikini panties, her crop top was plain white cotton, her small breasts bulging out the two-way arrow and text that read \u2018Both Ways\u2019 in purple.  Deborah herself had slept in her pink nylon chemise and tap pants, but then the roommates had very different wardrobes. <\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry Ma\u2019am,\u201d Deborah replied while she and her sister got out of bed. Making her address the AI assistant with \u2018proper respect\u2019 was another recently introduced new feature being tested on Artemis Girls by the development team. An<\/em> all male team developing the perfect AI assistant designed especially for female needs<\/em>, Deborah reminded herself sulkily. And we are the lucky girls to benefit from it first.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cA good Artemis Girl always watches her language.\u201d the disembodied voice reminded them. She had seen some of the internal papers and knew that this part of the AI\u2019s function was called PDA: Personal Discipline Assistant. Finally satisfied with their submissive apologies, the digital governess finally became more businesslike.<\/p>\n

 \u201cGood morning Chipmunk and Chicklet. It is five minutes after five o\u2019clock in the morning. Your biometrics indicates less than 6 hours sleep. Being sleep deprived is not healthy for young women. A recommendation has been entered to move your bedtime back to 8 PM tonight. Your Dorm mother will inspect your room in teen minutes at 0515 hours. Please make and tidy your bed.\u201d<\/p>\n

I search myself, I want you to find me
\nI forget myself, and I want you to remind me<\/em><\/p>\n

Chicklet was already humming to the melody while she straightened the bed cover.  Deborah found the wake-up songs that marked the start of the working girls day throughout the dorm tiresome.  They were always too loud, high energy, and suggestive\u2014more dance club than soothing.  The sound bounced off the pink cinder block walls that were mostly bare.  Everything in the room was built in or bolted down\u2014from the single bed the roommates shared to the chest and closet they shared, each containing their respective clothes, shoes, cosmetics and few personal items they were allowed to keep in their room neatly side-by-side. What cash and few valuables a girl might have when checking into the dormitory would immediately be securely stored in the safe by her housemother along with her Passport and Drivers license. All for the safety and convenience of the girls according to the \u2019Handbook for Artemis Staff\u2019, which all female staff was expected to memorize. For many of the girls it was the only book they ever got to read.<\/p>\n

There were no windows. Apart from a huge flat screen there were only two visual distractions in the room.  One was a poster that simply read \u201cNO ONE KNOWS I\u2019M A LESBIAN\u201d.  The other was her own MBA, taped to the wall on her side of the bed\u2014 a reminder of a different her. There were cameras attached to the ceiling flouro lights as well.  Those were often on both roommates\u2019 minds, as they had been the previous evening. <\/p>\n

I don’t want anybody else
\nWhen I think about you, I touch myself
\nOoh, I don’t want anybody else
\nOh no, oh no, oh no<\/em><\/p>\n

You’re the one who makes me come runnin’
\nYou’re the sun who makes me shine
\nWhen you’re around, I’m always laughin’
\nI want to make you mine<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cPlease assume inspection position girls,\u201d The bodiless voice told them as the ten minutes were up. Dormitory girls had to assume the inspection posture whenever their room was to be inspected. The Girls moved to the position indicated by markings on the floor at the end of their beds and assumed the correct posture. Raise arms, hands placed behind their neck with fingers laced together and their feet apart.<\/p>\n

\u201cElbows further back Chipmunk,\u201d The AI corrected her. \u201cRemember a manager might be watching. You want to make the right impression.\u201d Adopting her sister\u2019s pose, Deborah got her elbows way back. Displaying her breasts and her obedience to the cameras at the same time. She got plenty of practice; it was a posture Artemis girls assumed often. Some executive might well be inspecting girls waiting to be released from their rooms to pick out his next secretary. Maybe it had been his manual input that had prompted the digital governess to correct her posture. Usually, the AI couldn\u2019t tell such minute details. But the girls were purposefully left in the dark about the extents of its capabilities. That way, they always felt watched. And whether by men or machine, they didn\u2019t know, and couldn\u2019t even tell apart with certainty.<\/p>\n

While they had to be in position precisely on time the Dorm mother sometimes took awhile getting to them. Today the wait was brief. Five minutes tops. There was a redundant knock on the door before she swung the door open.<\/p>\n

 \u201cGood morning, girls!\u201d, she greeted them cheerfully. \u201cWill you be good Artemis Girls today?\u201d<\/p>\n

 \u201cYes, Ma\u2019am! We will be good Artemis girls today!\u201d both roommates responded in unison.<\/p>\n

Miss Merchant nodded and entered to do a cursory inspection of their room.<\/p>\n

At first glance, the tall women looked strict, even menacing. The way she entered the room seemed to exude a certain self-assured authority that was underlined by the leather razor strap she always carried on a thong on her belt. She was dressed to make an impact in a severely cut feminine business suit. The immaculate, starched white blouse with its high stiff collar and gently puffed long sleeves, knee-length grey tweed pencil skirt and light tan, seamed fully fashioned stockings and three inch black heels provided for a truly imperious image of a strict headmistress or governess.<\/p>\n

However, the strap-wilding female authority figure was less imposing to Deborah then someone watching on the cameras might assume.<\/p>\n

Lisa Merchant had worked for Artemis for over six years.  Just turned forty, she was among the oldest of the female staff left in a supervisory position. When the changes began she understood that the only viable career path for women under the new regime was avoiding any competition with men for real power or status. Her seniority along with her demonstrated loyalty to the new ethos permitted her to choose, within limits, any of the jobs still allowed to women. Female ambition, ruthlessness and drive could be useful if properly directed and being a Dorm mother seemed an attractive occupation for women ruthless enough to subjugate their own gender. It offered board, a study salary, and a position of some authority within the company that other female staff was required to respect \u2026and fear. But the image of empowerment projected by the self-assured governesses as an independent female authority figure was an illusion and Deborah knew it.<\/p>\n

Ms Merchant had to dress to please men and intimidate females without any real choice in the matter. Her heels were perhaps the most telling. The men who ruled Artemis liked to see their girls in heels so Artemis Girls wore heels. A minimum of three inches and to a skilled observer of female movement it was obvious that the three inch heels were just a bit higher then she could walk in with complete confidence. But a dorm mother was limited to exercise her authority in a way that pleased the male gaze. Men liked to see her in heels so she wore heels like a good girl no matter her supposed status. She was always ultimately answerable to a man and she could only maintain her position by obeying male\u2019s commands and enforcing ultimate male authority on other women. The dorm mother couldn\u2019t open the safe with the girls\u2019 valuables and documents without being authorize and any male executive, even a trainee could overrule her on room assignments, curfews, schedules, meal plans and even her own core competency: discipline.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>In a snap inspection two days ago, she\u2019d given both Deborah and her sister a swat for an untidy room but she had looked worried doing it and the yelp of pain had been acting for the camera. Most girls would have angry red welts for an improperly made bed sheet\u2019s hospital corner but while Deborah had the relative lowly status of a secretary, she was the de-facto PA of the boss himself and he talked<\/em> to her sometimes. And Ms Merchant was smart enough to know that it was unwise for a mere female to needlessly antagonize someone who had regular pillow talks with the boss, no matter her official status. Deborah might be relegated to a secretarial dorm for now but who knew if she could sweet talk herself back into his good graces?<\/p>\n

The episode had reminded Deborah how the only real power a women had was the power to influence men and that she was close to the boss himself despite being relegated to the dorm.<\/p>\n

They both knew that was the real reason why the inspection was as cursory as she thought she could get away with for the cameras. Leaving the door open, she continued her wake up route in a brisk stride, her high-heeled shoes clicking on the rough concert floor, muffled over the rugs repeating herself seven more times over the next few minutes.<\/p>\n

She and Chicklet pulled off their sleepwear and tucked towels around them.  They joined the queue forming up leading to the bathroom, composed of fourteen other women waiting. \u201cWater on!\u201d the Dorm Mother announced and the line moved forward quickly into the communal shower, hanging their towels on assigned pegs.   Steam began filling the green tiled walls of the shower as the pairs of roommates huddled together under one of the eight showerheads.  The water came on automatically the same day every day at the same time.  It was lukewarm at best and only lasted for five minutes.  At first it had been hard to wash up and do a proper shampoo in the time allotted, but of course she now managed it\u2014even while wearing (and washing) the chastity belt all admin staff had been placed in.  Except for the water, the shower was quiet, each of the eighteen women focused on washing themselves as thoroughly as possible.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>As always, Deborah reflectively compared herself with the other girls. She was attractive but had plenty of competition. All the Dorm girls were very fit young women with splendid figures, athletic but emphatically feminine and sexy. Hours of gym work and a strict diet was used to improve the physique of all Artemis girls from a good baseline. And what nature couldn\u2019t provide, plastic made perfect. There was always the worry that one of them would catch the boss\u2019s eyes and take her place. Many of them had angry red welts on their rumps from the strap or cane being applied indicating failure to find a male protector, making Deborah both proud and glad that she had. In each corner, a camera recorded their ministrations.  She\u2019d long since stopped thinking about them except occasionally daydreaming that her boss was watching her all the time secretly infatuated with her.  As she rubbed the soap suds over her breasts, she began unconsciously humming along herself. <\/p>\n

I close my eyes and see you before me
\nThink I would die if you were to ignore me
\nA fool could see just how much I adore you
\nI’d get down on my knees, I’d do anything for you<\/em><\/p>\n

Personal hygiene also included carefully brushing teeth for the proscribed full 5 minutes after getting out of the shower with an electric toothbrush under the watchful eyes of both cameras and the house mother. The staff manual for Artemis Girls emphasised the importance of proper oral hygiene. Of course it does. Bosses want nice pretty clean females mouths to put their penises into<\/em>, Deborah thought with resignation as she brushed and flossed carefully. A certain type of male managers seemed to think that was all women\u2019s mouth were good for at the office, ordering them to keep it shut at all other times. Not that her own boss was like that. Not only was she allowed to gossip with the other girls, he allowed her to talk<\/em> to him. She could even express opinions fairly openly as long as she was polite and remembered the proper forms of address. In a way, Deborah knew, she was actually privileged. And, in a quiet corner of her mind, that she usually didn\u2019t acknowledge existed, she was actually grateful.<\/p>\n

\u201cTime for breakfast girls. Remember it is the most important meal of the day.\u201d Their Dorm mother announced. Still wearing their bath towels the girls lined up for the dispensary. Breakfast consisted of a power shake carefully mixed and measured to each girl\u2019s needs. It was automatically given out by a machine when the scanner read their biometrics. As she quickly drank her sweetener-sweet but otherwise somehow both gross and bland at the same time diet shake, Deborah longed for the kind of fresh baked butter croissant and coffee she used to spoil herself with in the morning. A real meal, in short. The shake was based on a formula produced \u201cespecially for female mental and physical wellbeing\u201d, if you believed the marketing. Among the benefits, it was supposed to improve mouth and body odour and there were rumours about other effects being tested by the development team, and it was better for a girl not to inquire about it. If you did, rumour had it, you volunteered yourself as a test subject for the next batch. It was actually produced in a variety of tastes but the Dormitory Girls weren\u2019t consulted on taste, consistency, amount or additives.<\/p>\n

During breakfast some girls were handed pill glasses with medicine. Artemis took protecting the medical information of female staff very seriously. So seriously, in fact, that most dormitory girls had no idea what medicine they were given or why.  Prescriptions were made by the company clinic in consultation with a girl\u2019s manager and often the first time she learned of it was when her dorm mother handed her a pill glass. It was obviously absurd for an ignorant office girl to think she understood her medical needs better than the experts in employed in the company clinic. If she did, the strap was there to remind her to be a good girl and take her pills for her own good. Miss Merchant wouldn\u2019t tolerate a fuss about it. If she was suspicious she would make the young woman in question assume the inspection position and open her mouth for examination to carefully ensure she had shallowed everything. Sometimes even putting on latex gloves to check. After making sure the last girl had swallowed Miss Merchant clapped her hands. \u201cYou know the routine. Time to get dressed. Remember to doll yourself up for your bosses.\u201c<\/p>\n

A minute later, Deborah was busy considering what to wear\u2014probably her most important decision she\u2019d make today.  It was certainly one of the few.  Deborah Jones no longer made many decisions about anything at all.  The phone interrupted her.<\/p>\n

YES, DADDY?
\nYES, DADDY?
\nYES, DADDY?<\/p>\n

She snatched the phone, accepting the call. The ring tone was her own voice, sweetly responding even before taking a call.  It had been her boss\u2019s idea and, of course, the only calls she ever received on it were from him. It was locked from making any outbound calls.<\/p>\n

Pleasing the boss had become the overriding purpose of her existence. In many ways, both on a conscious and subconscious level, the Boss was a stern farther figure that made her feel like a little girl in need of guidance, discipline and love. He was her source of conversation, punishment, praise and protection as well as her one and only way to obtain sexual relief from an unwilling arousal that consumed her constantly.<\/p>\n

She understood that he was the one responsible for turning her from a self confident ambitious business woman into an indentured office girl effectively under lock and key but while a part of her still resented what had happened his ability to effortlessly bring women to their knees was just more proof of his power and masculinity. What was more, it was proof that  he was strong enough to protect her. And perhaps, her sister.<\/p>\n

She understood that he was redirecting the fate of hundreds of women, of course. Girls disappeared from Artemis almost every week being replaced by fresh recruits. Deborah vaguely suspected that at least some of them ended up as well trained and obedient sex workers indentured to their new postings. Vacant buildings were hurriedly being converted into suitable secretarial dormitories until expanded custom build facilities could be completed. But those girls weren\u2019t like her. They don\u2019t get his personal attention the way I do,<\/em> she consoled herself.<\/p>\n

Deborah spent most of her time away from the office under curfew at the dorm, where the only conversation on offer consisted of vapid chatter about fashion, make-up and who was prettiest. Not only were those the only topic that were safe in the digital panopticon of the secretary dorm; it were the only topic that mattered<\/em>. Beauty and fashion were not a game for an Artemis Girl. It wasn\u2019t even a lifestyle. It was life.<\/p>\n

But it wasn\u2019t \u2026fulfilling\u2026 for Deborah\u2019s sharp and inquisitive mind. As much as she hated it, he was always grateful when he<\/em> deigned to spend time with her. He had stripped away her old dreams and put her under the discipline of the paddle and strap but sometimes he was nice to her. Being scolded for letting him down was worse than the paddle. It gave her a sense of terrible despair. Made her feel unloved, reviled, and loathsome to others and to herself. She needed Him to protect her, to guide her. He was so much wiser then her, and tough, strong, self-confident \u2013 a man sure of himself and secure within his own mind<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 \u201cGood morning, Sir!\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked up at her from a bed.  There was a blonde lying next to him, but it wasn\u2019t clear who his companion was.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood morning, Chipmunk!  That was some session last night. Not that we watched all of it, but when we did, you two looked very cute together!\u201d  There was a titter in the background.<\/p>\n

At that moment, she knew exactly who he was with.  After all, the hated nickname had been her suggestion\u2014Stephanie Tremont, her boss\u2019s mistress. <\/p>\n

If her feelings for her boss were confused they were straightforward towards his mistress. Deborah\u2019s recurrent fantasy was that the boss would one day tire of Stephanie and demote her to the secretarial pool, taking her place in the Dormitory while Deborah was moved into the penthouse as a kept woman. There was basic sexual jealousy that this woman kept the boss away from her. She also instinctively resented the older women with her elegant sophistication and her place in society. The one-time COO might not be living her best life, but compared to Deborah, she lived in the clouds.  The broken executive had taken to the mistress role offered like a grateful dog taken in from the rain, and spent her days waiting to be called or visited by her new lover.  No matter that he was married.  No matter that Deborah was his secretary and, as such, yet another readily available female in his life.  Instead of exhibiting jealousy, Stephanie dripped with condescension.  Deborah was \u2018cute as a chipmunk\u2019\u2014just an office rodent in comparison to herself.      <\/p>\n

\u201cThank you, Sir!\u201d<\/p>\n

Chicklet glared at her, as she dressed. As if she was to blame for any of this!<\/p>\n

There was mumbling and the phone was handed over.  Stephanie now looked at her, as her boss got up and vanished from the screen.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was my idea, Chipmunk,\u201d the imperious older blonde winked.  \u201cWhen did you start again?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEight o\u2019clock, Ma\u2019am,\u201d she replied with an edge she regretted.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe were having cocktails at the Metro\u2014I thought, why shouldn\u2019t the girls have a little fun too!  How long were you told to go to?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTen o\u2019clock, Ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n

Stephanie yawned.  \u201cI\u2019m afraid we forgot about you!  We were into our second course by then. I\u2019ll review the recording later, if I think of it.  Did you enjoy some heavy petting with your little sister?\u201d<\/p>\n

Katherine\u2014Chicklet\u2014pointedly looked away.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Ma\u2019am.  Thank you, Ma\u2019am.\u201d The response was flat, curt.  She wasn\u2019t a lesbian, let alone an incestuous lesbian.  Nor was her younger sister.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course, it must have been frustrating.  With those chastity belts on, all you could get to was second base!  Poor Chipmunk!  Poor Chicklet!\u201d<\/p>\n

Deborah forced her lips into a neutral, vacant smile.  The locked belt jealously \u2018secured\u2019 her sex for her Boss, who was her sole keyholder.  The metallic nanofiber was hygienically porous, allowing her to bathe herself and so silky smooth to the touch that she sometimes forgot she was even wearing it\u2014until she felt the twist of arousal.  Then it was sheer hell.  How had the Boss sold this again?  The Take Back the Night Initiative<\/em>.  She sighed. Women could be so\u2026 stupid at times\u2014especially corporate women.  She spitefully prayed the Boss kept Stephanie under lock and key too, though she doubted it. <\/p>\n

\u201cAnyway, I thought I\u2019d give you a heads up.\u201d  Stephanie paused, looking over her bare shoulder.  The loud gush of a five star hotel shower filled the air behind her.  She returned to Deborah, a sly, conspiratorial smirk on her cruel, lovely face.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou-know-who wanted a certain something last night but I convinced him that was more in your department, if you get what I mean.  You might want to pre-lube, otherwise you\u2019ll be biting that pillow very hard, missy!\u201d<\/p>\n

Deborah fought to push her rising fury down.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Ma\u2019am!\u201d she replied curtly.<\/p>\n

Stephanie yawned. \u201cTip off Baby Dyke too.  He might want to do both of you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Deborah merely nodded.  Her sister glared at her hard as she buttoned up her regulation white Oxford style blouse.<\/p>\n

\u201cGot to order room service. Have a great day Debbie and remember to put a smile on your boss\u2019s face!\u201d  With that, the connection ended.  <\/p>\n

Great.  Her boss was probably going to fuck her up the ass sometime over the course of the work day.  She almost wished Stephanie had left it a surprise.  She reached in her top drawer and pulled out the tube of Anal-eze, dropping it in her purse before she forgot. <\/p>\n

Katherine\u2019s eyes followed the tube\u2019s voyage, disgust written all over her face.<\/p>\n

If his Trophy Wife was a fine meal, then his mistress Stephanie was comfort food. That made her the junk food option on her boss\u2019s sex diet.  Quick, cheap, spontaneous and easily available.  It probably meant her sister was the sexual equivalent of chewing gum.<\/p>\n

I don’t want anybody else
\nWhen I think about you, I touch myself<\/em><\/p>\n

Deborah considered her wardrobe options.  She looked down at her smartwatch and with a tap launched the app offered \u2018suggestions\u2019 based on previous selections and how long since she had worn an item of clothing.  She had to admit that it was an absolute godsend.  On her secretarial salary, it was always a challenge to find a new combination of clothes that might visually pique her superior\u2019s attention. <\/p>\n

\u201cYOUR DAILY SUGGESTION\u201d<\/p>\n

Deborah sighed, looking through her top drawer. The matching sheer turquoise bra and panty set.  Check.  The shiny tight black polyester blouse.  Check.  The turquoise polyester miniskirt.  Check.  And of course, the obligatory black garter belt and sheer black stockings.  She couldn\u2019t remember the last time she\u2019d worn pantyhose\u2014the Boss was not a fan.  Then again, when was the last time she\u2019d picked out what she actually wanted to wear?  A long time<\/em>, she noted, slipping the panties over her garter belt.  She put the black spike heels on last, wincing at the discomfort. The old Deborah wore sensible shoes but the boss considered proper female footwear important with stiletto heels mandatory for all Artemis girls now. Deborah enfeebled herself when she put the heels on. They altered her legs and buttocks in a tautly strained conformation that reminded her that she existed solely to please men. Wearing very high stiletto heels changed the way a woman looked at the world around her. Any surfaces not specifically designed for easy female access, such as steep slopes, high staircases, grass, gravel, mud, basically anywhere in the countryside, where walking involved small, careful steps, preferably holding someone\u2019s arm and walking any distance became be a challenge. To reach forward to pick something up, or to carry something heavy required a careful awareness of balance. Wearing stiletto heels always an inch higher than she was comfortable with was a perfect way to constantly remind her of her vulnerability and helplessness. Wearing high heels changed the way the world looked at her, too. In heels, she was marked as the kind of woman who would forego comfort and utility for looks, for male attention.<\/p>\n

At least she had an ever changing selection, unlike her little sister.  Katherine was an Office Girl, and a junior one to boot.  Like all the other girls consigned to the Secretarial Pool, she wore the same outfit day in, day out\u2014the white too-small Oxford blouses, the black too-short miniskirts, the black high heels and the boring white cotton bras and bikini panties. The look was completed with a cheap dollar store bright red lipstick.  It was enforced dress code conformity, making the SecPool girls interchangeable and anonymous while still ensuring they looked attractive to men. It signalled to anyone seeing it that she was just a SecPool girl and could be assigned if anyone needed her. There were even rumours of having all the SecPool girls share the same hair colour and styling. <\/p>\n

She sprayed herself with the sweet smelling fragrance the Boss had given her for Secretary\u2019s Day last year.  Katy Perry\u2019s Purr seemed more appropriate for a tween than a woman in her late twenties but it was better than nothing.  For Office Girls like Katherine, perfume was a no-no. They had their own, cheap, deodorant to even make them smell uniform.         <\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s go girls!  Shuttle bus is here!\u201d the Dorm Mother boomed.<\/p>\n

Ooh, I don’t want anybody else
\nOh no, oh no, oh no
\nI love myself, I want you to love me
\nWhen I\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

Deborah patted her hair down, slipping her purse over her shoulder.  She zipped up her Hard Bodies gym bag which contained the workout wear she\u2019d need later and completed her outfit with the SmartGlasses that were mandatory for all Artemis secretaries.  While all Artemis girls wore the SmartWatch, only secretaries and above wore the glasses.  The two Jones girls filed into the hallway again, this time in the opposite direction, and headed towards the waiting corporate shuttlebus that would transport them straight to the office.<\/p>\n

As she got onboard each girl paused to politely greet the driver with a \u201cGod morning, Sir.\u201d The Artemis handbook emphasised decorum. Addressing male staff with a proper respectful tone along with smile was mandatory for Artemis Girls at all times.<\/p>\n

Inside the bus a discreet symbol was emblazoned on the back of every headrest. There was no explanatory text for the symbol and it would be obscure to a casual viewer but an Artemis Girl would instantly understand that it depicting an open female mouth surrounded by a red circle and crossed by a bar. Every woman on the bus knew perfectly well the meaning of the ideogram for \u201cNo female speech allowed.\u201d While the bus came fully equipped with audio-visual surveillance someone was likely worried about the mobile data connection giving out when passing under bridges and though tunnels. Management didn\u2019t like the idea of their girls talking in private.<\/p>\n

To further make the point there was also a cheery poster reminding everyone that. \u201cGossip at the workplace is a form of micro-aggression that creates a hostile work environment for women and girls. If you overhear or experience gossip your are required to report it.\u201d No one ever said bosses didn\u2019t have a sense of humour.<\/p>\n

Keeping quiet on the bus was no great hardship for Deborah. Girls were allowed to talk about sex, fashion, make-up and other suitable feminine subjects but serious matters were for men and talking men-talk would get a girl in trouble. She appreciated the quiet time. It was only a ten minute trip but it was her favourite time of the day.  Like her co-workers, she looked out the windows, fantasizing she was just another one of the commuters headed to work.  She watched a smartly dressed woman talking on her phone as she made her way to her office. The pricey cut of her pants suit and smartly styled short red hair suggested she was an executive.  <\/p>\n

 For a moment Deborah willed them to change places, for her to be the one headed to an interesting, important job where she\u2019s be respected and admired\u2014not to mention, well paid. Part of her found the idea vaguely unnatural. The idea of not having to obey, not having rules to guide her \u2013 and to have orgasms when she wanted them, without the boss\u2019s permission, seemed strange and almost obscene.  <\/p>\n

Suddenly the women looked up at the bus. Her frown was a mixture of pity, distain and outright contempt. Deborah knew what the women saw: A busload of low skilled office bimbos, who likely had to fuck their bosses just to keep their entry level jobs. The digital display on the nondescript buss actually said \u201cArtemis female Staff morning commute.\u201d Artemis made no secret that it was providing both housing and dedicated transport for \u201cvulnerable female staff\u201d and given the increasing extend of the practice, rumours had inevitable begun to circulate about the highly regulated life young women lived in such places. Rather than outright try to deny the reports Artemis had created the impression that it was rescuing \u201chighly troubled lower class girls\u201d and providing them the \u201cstructured environment\u201c such girls needed to keep a job rather than end up on Hump Alley as drug-addicted street prostitutes. Comparing the dormitories to strict girls\u2019 boarding schools and more than hinting that many of the girls had dabbled in the sex trade or gotten pregnant without a father anywhere in sight, before being given a chance of a secretarial job. Out of concern of such vulnerable wayward girls falling back into prostitution Artemis had even sponsored a program of cooperation with the city police force were dormitory girls were registered as \u2018probable\u2019 prostitutes with the vice enforcement squad and were to be picked up and returned to their dormitories if apprehended out after curfew. Key members of the police force were often invited to company sponsored events where the vulnerable girls they helped to protect could show their appreciation.<\/p>\n

Their eyes met as the lights turned green and the bus started up again. The look in her eyes said \u201cpoor little whore,\u201d the distain of the delicately reared professional woman towards one of her less fortunate sisters, neatly shrink wrapped in politically correct pity. In a flash of humiliation, rage and jealousy Deborah\u2019s fantasy changed. Suddenly, she desperately wanted to see the unknown professional young woman among the job applicants at Artemis who were inevitably and expertly processed into obedient office girls. She wanted to see her stripped bare for her job interview, in front of a roomful of leering men. She wanted to see her bent over a desk and taught manners and respect. Then inspiration struck. I work for the boss himself<\/em>, she thought. I\u2019m his girl. Perhaps I could actually help make it happen<\/em>.  Her smart glasses took continuous high definition images of her field of view. She couldn\u2019t control the camera or prevent it from recording and sending data. What she did have was a phone application to review and mark out frames for attention. The application was restricted for female users in that it didn\u2019t allow her to edit anything and she would be flagged if she tried to obstruct the camera. Artemis girls were encouraged to report on each other\u2019s transgressions and the application was included on her phone for just that purpose.  She held her gaze steady to ensure the glasses took a series of images of the mysterious women as the bus accelerated away. After she was out of sight Deborah opened up the reporting feature of her application and found several clear, useful images. After carefully considering several pictures she highlighted one that showed off both the beauty of the young woman, as well as the haughty look of disapproval on her face, adding a comment that said: \u201cHaughty girl looking at the bus on the way to work. Would be fun if she found herself looking out, instead of in. Perhaps there is a place for her at Artemis? \u201c Deborah felt a warm glow of satisfaction, and sent off the report. As she squirmed in her seat, her fantasy drifted from an act of betrayal just to assure herself that she wasn\u2019t entirely powerless to \u2026something else. After all, the woman was very pretty, just the boss man\u2019s type, too. So HE would be pleased with her, perhaps even reward her with an evening out. And the announced anal tryst would take place in his bed, instead of over his desk. She felt a rush of wet excitement between her legs at the thought. The Artemis IT systems should have no trouble identifying the young woman from the images. If she had unrestricted internet access, Deborah could probably do so herself in a few minutes with image search software. But of course, she didn\u2019t. <\/p>\n

The reverie was broken as the shuttle pulled into the underground garage and the doors opened. Deborah was first off the bus, but the garage already echoed with the measured tap of high heels as girls lined up to be processed at the security station.  Several young women, all pretty, preceded her in line to the scanning and clock-in station.  There were no male employees in the line. By contrast the uniformed security guards supervising, directing and policing the behaviour of the women in the basement were all men.  Masterful men in all their dominating forms, and aspects of control and subjugation of women excited Deborah deeply. Unlike the Dorm mother dressing like a dominatrix to please the men who might be watching this was real power, raw masculine authority. Just like a dorm mother\u2019s strap their equipment was on display. Their wide black service belts were adorned with the usual accoutrements of security: sundry items of control and authority. Handcuffs, electronic prods, even canisters of pepper spray. She imagined being detained for a \u2018random spot check\u2019, and handcuffed to be \u2018processed\u2019 with a shudder of excitement mingled with fear. She wasn\u2019t alone trying to tamp down her sexual reaction to the uniformed masculinity. The basement garage was full of properly belted healthy young women in peak physical condition. As a result of their monthly medicals more than half of them were given additional female hormones to combat any signs of sexual dysfunction. As a result there was more than a whiff of the aromatic fragrance of frustrated female arousal in the basement.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>A wall sign announced that they were at underground entrance W along with a pictogram figure of a woman. An explanatory text below announced this was \u201cA safe space for unaccompanied female staff.\u201d The boss had proudly explained that separate entrances were made available<\/em> for women to enable them to feel safer in women-only parking spaces in an interview with business week last month. Deborah had been interviewed for the feature as a poster girl for how well the company met the gender specific needs of its female staff.<\/p>\n

The fact that female staff was only allowed entry and exit via the secure underground facility unless signed out personally by a manager was not mentioned. There were several busses unloading but no private cars. Of course not<\/em>, Deborah reflected.  Men used private cars at Artemis, women were bussed.<\/p>\n

At a signal from the guard the women in front of Deborah in the line stepped up. She spoke quietly to him in a voice too low to be heard. Trying to explain something. She wasn\u2019t wearing an Artemis Girl smart watch. The uniformed guard, who was athletic with short, brown hair closely cropped in a military style, took away her purse and picket up a detection wand, “Arms out,” he said. The girl complied.  She wasn\u2019t in a proper corporate uniform or the usual secretarial dress. She was wearing a navy suit, with blue heels. The outfit looked expensive. Like something the smartly dressed woman she had seen from the buss would have. Must be a new hire.<\/em> Someone thinking she was taking the first steep on the career ladder. Stupid bitch<\/em> Deborah thought with satisfaction. The wand brushed the side of her jacket.  The girl tensed.  The guard stood in front of her.  She was hyper aware of his presence, tall, severe, authoritarian with his black leather belt. Security always scared Deborah.<\/p>\n

“Jacket open,” ordered the guard. The young women undid the button and returned her hand to the stretched position.  The guard lifted the material away from her, using the wand.  The tip of the metal touched her blouse as he ran the device along her side.  She shivered slightly. He ordered her to take off her jacket. “Excuse me, but I don’t see the point…” she managed to croak.  ” “Jacket off,” he repeated, a cold crisp bark, warden to prisoner. “Put it on the table,” he commanded. She walked to the table, under scrutiny. He threw her purse on top of the jacket before he ran the device over her nipples, one by one, deliberately, slowly. He played the metal over her flesh, carving invisible, obscene lines on her cheeks, over her neck and collar bone.  No security checks here, this was molestation. Part of a deliberate policy to cow the young woman, keeping her off balance emotionally and physically.<\/p>\n

\u201cHold position,\u201d he casually ordered as he emptied her bag on the table, casually rummaging though and examining her most intimate possessions.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you have your supervisor\u2019s permission to carry contraception?\u201d He asked. Showing her a small packet of condoms he\u2019d picked out of her bag.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?  No. It isn\u2019t your business\u201d She protested feebly<\/p>\n

It was the wrong thing to say.  No Artemis security officer had any intention of letting an indentured women lecture him on law.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t feel a chastity belt either\u201d He continued as if she hadn\u2019t spoken at all while putting a hand between the shocked woman\u2019s legs.  I take it you are not belted?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I\u2019m not wearing a chastity belt\u201d she tried to sound self-assured and angry but it came out like an apology.<\/p>\n

He glanced at his smart watch. \u201cUnmarried and no listed boyfriend?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes but\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t let her finish.  \u201cSo, you are an unmarried single women not in a permanent relationship coming to work with condoms in your purse\u201d He continued calmly, ignoring her flinching at his touch.  \u201cYou are not in a steady sexual relationship \u2013 clearly you are allowing strange men fuck you.  Have I got it right so far?<\/p>\n

The woman was shocked and stunned at his language.  \u201cNo!!!  I haven\u2019t\u2026I mean they are from when I was in a relationship.\u201d  Her face was flushed with shame. <\/p>\n

\u201cYou are a whore,\u201d he said, \u201cas if stating the obvious. \u201cYou meant to profit from prostitution in the workplace\u201d. He gestured to an elevator door behind him. \u201cThat will take you to be medically examined for physical evidence of illicit sexual activity and checked for signs of venereal diseases. You’re dismissed,”<\/p>\n

As she made to pick up her jacket and purse he stopped her. \u201cThose need to be examined. We don\u2019t have time for that now. They will be returned to your manager. Now go!\u201d<\/p>\n

They would strip-search her, Deborah knew, claiming to be looking for drugs. Full cavity search: ears, nostrils, mouth, vagina and rectum. Deborah imagined she would be thoroughly purged before they violated her anus, probing painfully and unmercifully into her rectum, extensively, fully, investigating her viscera in depth with well lubricated, rubber clad fingers. Making her stand in for the unknown woman she\u2019d seen from the bus in her mind, Deborah hoped they made her bend over and hold her bottom cheeks apart for the inspection. She knew it would be the beefy fingers of men adding to her pain and humiliation. The real purpose of the degrading activity would be to diminish her self-esteem, of course, reducing her to tears of humiliation and groveling subservience. The embarrassment of being stripped naked, on her back and with her legs spread open wide would help convince her not to try to deny the obvious fact that she had been caught attempting to illegally prostitute herself. She would demand a lawyer and, fortunately, the company had an expert on prostitution on hand who could help the girl memorize and record a detailed and convincing confession. A company-friendly prosecutor and judge would perform some legal magic and she would be a self-confessed and convicted whore by the end of the day. <\/p>\n

\u201cGod morning Sir.\u201d Deborah forced a smiled as she stepped up to the scanning station to have her biometrics verified and electronically clock in. Her heart slammed in her chest. She should be horrified and indignant.  But her nipples were hard and aching. There was moisture between her legs, lubricating her belt. While it prevented her, very successfully, mind you, and no matter what she tried, from getting off by herself, sometimes, when she got just wet enough, the belt\u2019s rubber inside found some traction on her softest flesh, pulling back the hood from her clit enough that every step gave her a little rub. Every step, or just shifting in place like she did now. Deborah felt small, vulnerable and feminine in the presence of the security guard\u2019s unashamed masculinity. And, ashamedly, she had to admit that it turned her on.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The indentured Artemis office girl and the male guard seized each other up with their eyes. Shame, fear and arousal, strength, confidence and dominance, naked vulnerability, and uniformed authority.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cGod morning girl.\u201d He couldn\u2019t even be bothered to check her name tag as he glanced at his workstation displaying her bio signs. The smart watch was a surprisingly effective lie detector especially as it was calibrated for each girl for that purpose \u201cAre you carrying contraband items such unauthorized electronic devices, official documents, credit cards or cash?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo Sir,\u201d she answered truthfully.  Deborah could only dream of having cash or use her own credit to spend money on whatever she wished. She had a company issued charge card to be used to purchase company approved items at company approved stores paying company approved prices.  The rational for introducing the system had been to \u201cprevent vulnerable girls and young women from overspending and getting themselves into debt,\u201d and Artemis considered it a great success. Of course most girls were in perpetual debt to the company and paid interests on their card.<\/p>\n

He checked the readout and looked up. Her heart slammed in her chest. <\/p>\n

\u201cDo you always get aroused by watching girls get molested?\u201d he asked. There was an amused leer on his face but no real hostility or suspicion.<\/p>\n

Deborah felt a flash of shame at the way her biometrics betrayed her. \u201cYou are very good at your job, Sir. I enjoy seeing girls get the discipline and control they need.\u201d The last bit was almost an exact quote from the female staff manual but then she repeated it so often she was beginning to believe it.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt really is true isn\u2019t it? All you Artemis Girls are shameless sluts. You are appropriately belted today?\u201d<\/p>\n

That was easy to give the correct answer to. How couldn\u2019t she be? \u201cI\u2019m always belted. My boss wants me focus on my duties instead of my selfish needs.\u201d<\/p>\n

He chuckled at that. \u201cHe certainly seems to have you well in hand. You are cleared.\u201d He typed something quickly at his workstation. \u201cGiven the commotion and your positive, cheerful attitude, I\u2019m assigning you an additional 10 minutes to reach your work area.\u201d<\/p>\n

That was actually quite generous. For a male staff getting around the Artemis campus was usually straightforward.  Their smart watch or staff badges would enable touch panel screens to let them go where they needed to go at their leisure. Female staff were usually restricted to a fairly specific zone and given a set amount of minutes to reach it before being away from her assigned workspace too long would cause her smart watch to flag her. Since security could always track those \u201crunaway girls\u201d, they were usually picked up within minutes.<\/p>\n

Deborah and Katherine parted company as she headed to the Executive Suite on the top floor and Katherine to the Secretarial Pool down on three. Deborah\u2019s smart glasses helpfully lit up directions and indicated time remaining until she was to be at her work station. Her access would not unlock executive express elevators so she had to take the stairs.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>Even with most girls effectively geofenced to their immediate work space, the rhythm of high heels drumming the floor was everywhere. There was a prevalence of matching corporate uniforms like the one her sister wore. Fetching coffee; copying, filing and doing all the office drudgery men could never be bothered with. All the female employees were perfectly made up, well groomed and in very feminine dress. Some were elegant and stylish, and some looked fairly tacky in slutty miniskirts but they all displayed shapely nylon clad or occasionally bare legs. No women in trousers or sensible flat shoes trying to look like a man or take his job anywhere in sight. With few exceptions, female staff kept their heads down or their eyes lowered. Anything else might \u2026invite\u2026 male attention. On the surface it looked like an idealized version of a high end corporate campus. A curious mixture of futuristic modern design and a rediscovery of natural gender roles in the workplace. Few men were at work this early but there were some early risers. A secretary was greeting her boss with a morning kiss at his door and on elevators rides, the lucky girls allowed got a friendly groping on tights or buttocks. With the right help and encouragement, women here learned to alter their psychic geography in order to exist in a world where assertive male behaviors were normalized. They learned how to dull the part of themselves that feels distress when men demand sexual submission, because it was impractical not to. Well adjusted women at Artemis accepted this state of affairs as just part and parcel of inhabiting their gender.  Anyone with eyes and ears at Artemis got pointers on the finer points of gender stratified management.  The orderly procession of girls and young women in the hallways and offices following the rigidly applied rules and regulations expected of them at Artemis and the sight of powerful males putting their hands on powerless women at their leisure; all these manifestations of iron control over women expressed the Boss\u2019s able administration and stern dominance at the helm. When he took her some place, Deborah felt a fierce sense of pride at her place at his side. And the other girls took note, making way for her as she scaled the stairs, hurriedly but unsteadily, in her heels.  From casual remarks she had overheard from mysterious influential men visiting the boss, she had come to understand that powerless females subject to male mastery was an ideal long held by many politicos and plutocrats behind the scenes. One man she had recognized as one of the world\u2019s top tech billionaires had noted with approval to the Boss that the state of the art campus turned aggressively independent career women into the very embodiment of respectable feminine docility and servitude. Outside the nondescript and discreetly labeled staff motivational room Deborah passed a statuesque beauty waiting at attention, hands behind her head, breast thrust forward and eyes demurely lowered. Girls were often made to wait outside a motivational room in a display posture. It helped to install a thorough respect for authority and put them in a fearful state of mind; the necessary and desired mental condition of readiness to feel the full effect of corporal punishment. If one were to peek inside the electronically locked and fully soundproofed room one would see a plethora of canes, crops, and whips hanging from pegs in orderly arrangement, an embarrassment of riches for the correction and disciplining of young women.  Humility and submission to the discipline of cane, crop and whip was simply part of the burden of being female at Artemis. To Deborah it had come to seem a fitting nemesis; a just and proper punishment for the arrogance and willfulness of women like the one she\u2019d seen from the bus. Women who thought to subvert their appropriate feminine place, status and social role – she shuddered deliciously, her thighs clenching, as her straying thoughts descended, unbidden, into the servility she had subconsciously come to consider innate to her sex.  The liberal and frequent application of corporal punishment helped most girls and women to come to terms with the need to accept the role the boss had decreed for them. If not, then the rooms were supplemented with, leather muzzles and bulbous rubber gags, serrated, spring-loaded clips for painful attachment to sensitive areas of female prisoners, and myriad other devices to evoke terror \u2026and cooperation in females. Deborah doubted anything more than a light correction would be required on the young woman showing the proper and correct attitude waiting at attention. When she got close, Deborah noticed the faint scent of helplessly frustrated female arousal. The woman\u2019s stiff nipples pressed up against her thin blouse could easily be made out. The areola, dotted with goose bumps, stood out ostentatiously and her nipple rings were obvious. Getting their favorite girls pierced and intimately ringed had become something of a trend among high flyers at the company. If the girl was lucky they would be silver or even gold. She was more than beautiful enough to be a model. In fact she might have been before an Artemis executive, perhaps the boss himself, had caught a glimpse of her modeling haut couture \u2013 or lingerie, when shopping for something for a wife or favored mistress online and had \u2026redirected\u2026 her career.  Discipline would ultimately be good for her. She would emerge well marked and quite familiar with the immediate painful effects of corporal punishment on yielding femininity and the lasting afterglow of agony and humiliation that continued to inform and elucidate the women as to their appropriate role and function at Artemis. It seemed a proper reward as well as a punishment for the mere fact of being female. Deborah always felt the dual nature of her indenture sexually and psychologically. The suffering offset by sexual excitement and the humiliation ameliorated by her innate femininity, the urge to submit to her all-powerful boss. <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>Deborah was by no means the only secretary at Artemis in a sexual relationship with her superior. Often, frequent intercourse did what nature intended, and developed the emotional ties of young women beholden to their male superiors, in the same basic way that all mammals build their relationships. The key difference between the normal working out of the mating game and how things played out at Artemis was that a policy was in place to prevent undue mutuality in the bonds. The belting of female staff helped to make them constantly needy and dependent – addicted to sex that only a single male could provide. For the male partner, the company strongly advised any superior in a relationship with a subordinate that he should work to retain his own psychological independence by ensuring that he maintained simultaneous sexual relationships with other women. Doing so allowed a man the necessary distance to consider the duties and discipline of female subordinates dispassionately, no matter how much he might enjoy them sexually. No attempt was made to disguise the one-way nature of such relationships. Women at Artemis had needs, of course, but only men had sexual agency, and the satisfying of female needs was entirely at their discretion. This helped undermine undue confidence on the part of women and ensured that the way couplings worked was that they happened only when men arranged and allowed them. Women learned to tease, then to beg, and when all that didn\u2019t do the trick like they expected to, they learned to please<\/em>. On the other hand, when a male partner wanted sex he was not to be gainsaid and his girl would learn to oblige him and enjoy it – whenever and wherever she was. With her thoughts turned deeply submissive just from passing by the staff motivational room, Deborah allowed herself to realize that she loved the Boss. He gave her guidance and a sense of security when she was with him. He was strict and stern sometimes but she would never respect a man who didn\u2019t know how to put a woman in her place. With his clever and effective ways, he ensured that she received the full measure of his guidance and love. If he had caged her in the dormitory it was her own fault for not working hard enough to please him <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>As she passed the heavily monitored recruitment centre floor, two young women were waiting to be interviewed. As Deborah approached a message notification popped up on her smart glasses triggered by her proximity to the guest passes both girls wore. It just informed her they were \u201cFemale Visitors\u201d with an icon that further data was restricted. A manager would no doubt have been given access details about them. Deborah just needed to know their status.  Artemis Girl always had to be on their best behaviour when interacting with female visitors. It was possible that some bored security section employee would review the footage from building cameras and her glasses in conjunction with audio recordings from her smart watch. Not likely, but possible. The best policy on how to act in front of strangers who were not part of the Artemis corporate family was simply to keep her mouth shut.<\/p>\n

Not for the first time, Deborah reflected that the whole Artemis Campus was like a panopticon, a type of prison that allows a single security guard to see every inmate while the inmates could never tell whether the guard was looking at them. Feeling as if they were constantly being watched, Artemis Girls were motivated to behave themselves at all times, just in case. The realization always made her marvel at how clever the boss was.<\/p>\n

One of the girls was a pale freckled redhead about her age; the other a tall brunette with legs as long as the Nile. The redhead appeared to be in her early twenties, pretty, wearing a white skirt and blue jacket with matching high-heeled spectators. She looked nervous; swinging her crossed leg up and down while casting anxious glances at the closed door by the secretary’s desk. The other girl seemed even more anxious. She wore a very short paisley print dress. Its tight bodice revealed her modest, well-shaped breasts to good advantage, but the short hemline of her dress showed off her very attractive, very long legs magnificently. She must be six feet tall,<\/em> thought Deborah. The woman also looked shaken and shamefaced, blushing up to her eyes. Deborah noticed the back of her dress was only partially zipped up. With a cursory nod Deborah made to pass them when the brunette timidly reached out for her.<\/p>\n

\u201cExcuse me, Miss. You work here?\u201d she asked. As her smart watch pick up the voice and matched it to the database another message flashed in Deborah\u2018s field of vision. \u201cYou are now interacting with a female visitor. Your behaviour will be evaluated.\u201d Someone was likely to review her interaction later unless they were actually doing so live right now.<\/p>\n

\u201cI do,\u201d she answered. Noncommittal.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs this a good place to work for women?\u201d she asked. \u201cI was told it was, but when I applied they were very specific about dressing appropriately for my interview and when I checked in at reception…\u201d She hesitated. \u201cThey needed my biometrics for the badge and wanted pictures for my application file. I had to …pose\u201d<\/p>\n

Yes recruitment officers really like to put girls into the standard inspection pose.<\/em> The same one Deborah and her sister had assumed at the foot of their bed this morning except it would have been stressful to be coerced into it for the first time by a stranger just \u201ctaking a few pictures\u201d. The boss liked to watch the video sometimes, to evaluate both the girl, her attitude and the ability of the interviewer to coax her into complying. Told to raise her arms and place her hands behind her neck with her fingers laced together, a girl tended to be confused, careful and slow. She would be told to hurry and not be a \u201cdifficult girl\u201d. To get her elbows way back, breasts thrusting out for the inspection and approval of the recruitment officer and others that might be watching on campus surveillance.<\/p>\n

If the recruitment officer was skilled and judged the girl to be sufficiently submissive, she would then be told to spread her feet wide apart while keeping her arms back and her breasts forward. Ideally, she was made to spread her legs wider until her inner thighs were strained and tensed. The Boss had promoted one recruitment officer on the spot for his \u201cexceptional women-management skills\u201d after watching footage of him making a confused and scared girl strip down to her bra and panties for the camera.<\/p>\n

Looking down at her, Deborah was not close enough to read the name sign. Amanda, it said. Female applicants didn\u2019t get last names on their tags. Amanda was on the cusp of some important changes. She still thought of herself as an independent agent with a choice about her career decisions and a free life ahead of her. Probably, she imagined that she’d meet some new man soon – that she’d get engaged and married – that this job and her relationship with Artemis was only a temporary affair.<\/p>\n

‘Run girl. Run for all you\u2019re worth, before it’s too late.’<\/em> Some small rebellious part of Deborah wanted to yell. It was not what the boss would want and not doing what the boss wanted was wrong so instead she smiled as reassuringly at the brunette as she could muster. \u201cThis is a very women-centric company. More than 80% of the staff is female and there are all sorts of procedures in place to ensure that special female needs are fully meet. Management gets special training in making this a safe and protected workplace for female personal.\u201d<\/p>\n

The girl bit her lib nervously. \u201cI was told the badge was my access pass but the door won\u2019t open. Could you let me out?\u201d<\/p>\n

Her pictures would already have been circulated among management. If Deborah had the clearance she would have been able to see them with her smart glasses right now. Deborah had talked to plenty of fresh young women hired under the new management to guess their situation. Odds were that somehow both girls were saddled with debt and had no income. They were just young women. A status that would immutably see their future to forfeiture to Artemis System, to serve, to be owned, to be moulded into new beings whose sole purpose would be to submit to the will of others.<\/p>\n

Deborah flashed both girls another reassuring smile \u201cYou should be proud they want to offer you a job. They are not taking in just anyone. Why don\u2019t you sit down and I\u2019ll find someone to help you?\u201d Deborah urged the young woman back into her seat before hurrying on.<\/p>\n

I must notify the Boss,<\/em> she thought. He may want to watch them<\/em>. He sometimes took an interest in freshly recruited girls during their first days with Artemis. If he liked what he saw, the two young women were likely to be sharing a dorm room safely under curfew and receiving the supervision and discipline Artemis management considered a particular female need before the end of the week.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>Deborah was at her desk at 8:00 AM, as she was every workday.  The Boss was rarely seen before ten, but no matter\u2014there was always a To Do List of tasks she must attend to. Settling into her swivel typist\u2019s stool, she logged in and reviewed her alerts.  Alerts ruled female life at Artemis. Most girls didn\u2019t have access to email anymore\u2014just alerts they could reply to, if required, regarding assignments, reminders, meeting appointments and all the other corporate detritus her life was composed of these days<\/p>\n

It was a modified version of email, real-time messaging and social media combined into one. An \u2018easy to use, single point, female friendly messenger\u2019. In short, a supervised, infantilized feature for female staff. Another product tested and designed by Artemis to provide \u201ca productive and stress free experience for female users.\u201d  According to the official description, one way of reducing female stress was to make sure they were \u2018protected\u2019, meaning locked out, of any content that might \u201cmicro aggress them,\u201d and to restrict communication to \u201csafe and trusted contacts\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCURRENT P SCORE: 72%\u201d was followed by \u201cREMINDER: DAILY PANTY CHECK @ 10AM\u201d.<\/p>\n

The Boss enjoyed conducting Panty Checks and scoring her underwear appeal.  All managers seemed to.  Some girls secretly hated them of course, but that was irrelevant.<\/p>\n

She needed to up her score\u2014anything under 80 resulted in a payroll deduction.  Deborah made a note to get herself to Vixxxen\u2019s this weekend.  She needed to up her lingerie game or she\u2019d not only be pay check punished\u2014she damn well might be demoted to the Secretarial Pool for good.  As much as the Boss said he had a soft spot because of their shared history at Artemis, Deborah wasn\u2019t naive.  There were too many pretty girls to choose from if he ever grew bored with her and sought a replacement.<\/p>\n

There was a message from her boss. Those were always at the head of the alert queue and were expected to be replied to at once. It was a reply to her flagging the mystery woman\u2019s picture. She was almost afraid to open it but the system would log any tardiness in response time on her part.<\/p>\n

\u201cDebbie,<\/p>\n

You are an observant and quick-thinking girl. Daddy is very proud of you. You are right that she would be perfect for Artemis. I\u2019ve notified recruitment to see what they can do. No promises but if we manage to land her would you like to mentor her? See if you got what it takes to get into female management responsibility?<\/p>\n

Also let\u2019s forget the Chipmunk thing. I\u2019ve authorized you to pick your own username for the system. I\u2019ll make sure all the girls use it as well as you like.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was an explosion of pure joy. Daddy was pleased with his little girl.<\/p>\n

That was when her smart glasses displayed the second alert of the day<\/p>\n

\u201cCONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR THREE YEAR ANNIVERSARY AT ARTEMIS SOLUTION SYSTEMS!\u201d<\/p>\n

Three years?  It seemed so much longer.  It seemed like she\u2019d always been there. What was worse was she was pretty sure she always would be there.       <\/p>\n

 [\/vc_column_text][vc_column_text]PROLOGUE 2- CORPORATE GOVERNANCE<\/strong><\/p>\n

Wherein we meet our hero!<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

THREE YEARS EARLIER<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cIs everything ok?\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked up.  His waitress\u2014no, it was \u2018server\u2019 here, wasn\u2019t it?  He was having trouble keeping up with the accelerating churn of old words for new, non-sexist replacements.<\/p>\n

\u201cFine, thank you.\u201d  It wasn\u2019t actually, but the location was more important than the coffee. <\/p>\n

Her smile was perfunctory but her face was pleasant enough to look at.  He was unconsciously redressing her faults as he considered her. The short hair would be grown out until it reached her shoulders, the colour dyed a more golden cornflower than the current dirty blonde, the breasts definitely increased by two cups.  But she wasn\u2019t merchandise and so he just as unconsciously shelved the improvement plan\u2014for now. <\/p>\n

Once you were in \u2018the trade\u2019 one tended to evaluate all young women professionally, rather than sentimentally.  In some ways, it was a pity.<\/p>\n

\u201cTwo flat whites, if you please,\u201d he added just as she was turning away.<\/p>\n

Her brow arched. <\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m expecting a friend,\u201d he added.  She nodded, acknowledging the order.  There was no further interest in him in those brown eyes (correct with lenses? An icy blue?), but then he was an old man and she was no doubt thinking of some boy (or girl, these days) she currently fancied\u2014not some old duffer like him!  And yet, of all the potential improvements, that was perhaps the easiest to address!  He laughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the joke?\u201d<\/p>\n

He was here. <\/p>\n

\u201cPlease, sit down.  I ordered you a coffee.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you.\u201d <\/p>\n

\u201cHow was your sabbatical?\u201d<\/p>\n

The younger man smiled.  The blue linen shirt, khaki trousers, and well-worn boat shoes might have been the uniform of a grad student, a programmer, a trust funder, or a venture capital investor.  In this part of the country, one just never knew.  Nor did anything else about him provide clues as to his primary interests.  He was of average height, perhaps even a bit under.  He possessed a kind of bland good looks and only the new hint of muscle tone suggested a physicality that hadn\u2019t been there just six months ago.<\/p>\n

The pretty short-haired server arrived with their coffee.  She offered his companion a broader smile than she bestowed upon him, he noted, as she placed the cup in front of him.<\/p>\n

He smiled and winked at her in return, causing a slight blush on her pink cheeks.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think she\u2019s in love,\u201d he observed, watching the server\u2019s backside wiggle away from them.<\/p>\n

Now his companion chuckled.  \u201cShe\u2019s got potential.  The face needs some work, but you\u2019d get it all on the back end on a ten to one ratio.  I\u2019d say $225,000\u2014 unprocessed.  Anyway, it is good to be back.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c$250,000\u2014and add another hundred thousand if Asia bound,\u201d he corrected the visitor\u2019s valuation.  \u201cThe case officer said your contributions were significant.  The word \u2018impressive\u2019 was featured in the after-action report.\u201d<\/p>\n

If he\u2019d hoped for a reaction, he would have been disappointed.  He had not.  This one was a cool customer.  This generation of operatives seemed impervious to judgement of any kind.  Like many his age, he both admired and feared this aspect of the next rising generation of agents. <\/p>\n

\u201cIt was very hot.\u201d  After sipping his coffee, he added, \u201cand the local fare was pretty much MREs.\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded.  \u201cExpect a significant upgrade in the Katangan hospitality sector.  Between the rare earth minerals deal with the Chinese and the sex tourism explosion forecasted, your next visit will be spent in fine form.\u201d<\/p>\n

The younger man shrugged.  \u201cIf and when the orders are cut, I\u2019ll go wherever needed\u2014even Katanga.  It was,\u201d he paused, \u201cquite the learning experience, Herr Kempler.\u201d<\/p>\n

They sat in silence, each sipping the sub-par coffee.  Despite the regrettable beverage, there was much scenery to enjoy.  The sparkling glass towers lorded the skies above but blessed the leafy city pedestrian pavilion below with sunlight.  Lined below with quirky boutiques and intriguing eateries, the city center was, by American standards, a delight.  Most pleasing to the eye were the scores of young women brought by work or leisure to the public space.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do you find Zenith?\u201d<\/p>\n

The late twentysomething nodded.  \u201cI prefer it to Katanga, though I don\u2019t know much about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt is an interesting place.  A bit Portland, a bit Silicon Valley and throw in a dash of Singapore and you have Zenith.  For good or ill, America is always reinventing itself\u2014that\u2019s Zenith in a nutshell.  As older regions become less business-friendly, Zenith is a proud proponent of capitalism.  Tax concessions, relocation grants, and development waivers have all made Zenith a boom town.  That said, the local powers that be insist it is also a city that cherishes social justice above all else. All the usual civic virtue signaling is in effect here\u2014 proclamations, resolutions, and declarations all celebrating various aspects of the latest nonsense are broadcast loudly and constantly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTrans Marx in a dress then\u2014 with a black AMEX card?\u201d<\/p>\n

Kempler chuckled.  \u201cThis is one way to see Zenith, yes.  It is a Petri dish of dystopic social capitalism.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow far we\u2019ve come from the Cold War, Herr Kempler.  The existence of Zenith is proof that both sides lost.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was one of those discordant observations he had come to expect from the agent.  In an era when history was a tweet from last week, he appreciated the young man\u2019s long view.  It was incongruous in a fellow his age and one of the things that had commended him.  They were both orphans of the twentieth century more than they were occupants of the present one.<\/p>\n

\u201cAs are we, my friend.  An organization such as ours would have been inconceivable if, as you say, either side had actually won.  We emerged from between the cracks of history.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe are the future,\u201d his visitor replied starkly.<\/p>\n

Kempler wasn\u2019t so sure.  He had been once.  Age had a way of robbing one of such youthful confidence.  All he knew was that after reaping the whirlwinds of both sides of the last century\u2019s conflict, he hadn\u2019t had many options remaining.  When it was winding down, he\u2019d been an agent to a double and triple degree magnitude, at the end no longer even knowing what side his services were ultimately benefiting.  His professional and ethical ledger was so hopelessly compromised, he hadn\u2019t bothered to balance it for decades.  Refuge in what had become Selectacorp represented a preferable option to suicide or self-exile.  He had made that necessity into a virtue but even now, he was too jaded to believe in it the way the apprentice agent did.<\/p>\n

\u201cSpeaking of the immediate future, you\u2019re here because your next assignment is in Zenith.\u201d<\/p>\n

His visitor exhibited no visible response. <\/p>\n

\u201cEver heard of Artemis Solutions Systems?\u201d<\/p>\n

His visitor shook his head ever so slightly.  He was becoming known for his economy of engagement.<\/p>\n

Kempler pointed to the farthest of the gleaming glass towers, atop which a sign proudly announced the corporate headquarters of Artemis Solution Systems.  \u201cThere is it\u2014 the main campus, anyway.  Hot new next-generation technology play.  They\u2019re carving out a niche they call Femtech\u2014technology developed specifically for the fairer sex.  It started with a family of mobile applications then branched out into wearable technology\u2014 all of it developed to \u2018empower women today to lead the world of tomorrow\u2019 or some nonsense.  It\u2019s been on all the investment sites,\u201d he admonished.<\/p>\n

Again, the shrug was minimal, the mocking smile razor thin.  \u201cSorry, Herr Kempler– I\u2019ve been preoccupied dodging bullets in an African hot zone helping to replace one regime with another.\u201d<\/p>\n

He waved the excuse away.  \u201cSelecta agents are expected to stay abreast of the latest.  In any case, Artemis looks like an excellent prospect for financial colonization.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA pump and dump?  Sounds dull, to be honest.  Not that I\u2019m complaining.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kempler smiled.  \u201cNor should you.  Here\u2019s a flashdoc file on the current management team\u2014including Wall Street\u2019s feminist icon, Jennifer Page.\u201d<\/p>\n

The younger man took the grey paper folder, opened it, and nodded.  He watched the agent\u2019s eyes scan the photos enclosed hungrily.  After a moment, the agent tapped the folder five times in quick succession, reducing it and all the enclosed photos into a covering of fine dust.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot dull\u2014and no longer complaining. Herr Kempler.  No men whatsoever?\u201d<\/p>\n

Kempler shook his head.  \u201cArtemis is\u2014or has been\u2014staff exclusively by women.  Part of the mystique, actually.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHas been?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. Through a proxy, we launched a legal challenge to their employment policies.  The Foundation for Advocating Parity\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFAP?  Really?\u201d<\/p>\n

Kempler continued.  \u201cI don\u2019t design these cut outs\u2014that\u2019s Operations.  As I was saying, FAP won their court case and Artemis has been ordered to admit males that qualify into their Management Trainee Program.  Congratulations\u2014your application has been accepted.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLucky me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt will be an incredibly hostile environment but if you survived Operation Burning Spear, I don\u2019t imagine you\u2019ll be intimidated by a bevy of self-entitled First World feminists.  Here\u2014look at this.\u201d<\/p>\n

The younger man took the grey paper folder, opened it, and nodded. He watched the agent’s eyes scan the photos enclosed hungrily. After a moment, the agent tapped the folder five times in quick succession, reducing it and all the enclosed photos into a covering of fine dust.<\/p>\n

Then his eyes met Kempler calmly. Almost as much body-language control as I have,<\/em> he thought with interest. It might be better, actually. I wonder how deep it runs<\/em>. It was only years of intimately studying his prot\u00e9g\u00e9 that allowed Kempler to glimpse the emotion.<\/p>\n

“Not dull\u2014and no longer complaining. Herr Kempler. I would have thought there would be some concern about my judgment being clouded in this matter.”<\/p>\n

\u201cThere was some pushback,\u201d Kempler confirmed. \u201cI had to call in a few favors.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI hope you didn’t have to go too far out on a limb for me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFailure would potentially compromise my ability to assist you further,\u201d Kempler admitted.<\/p>\n

\u201cI won\u2019t fail.\u201d From the certainty, in his voice, he might as well have declared that the Earth was round. \u201cMay I ask why you did it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Kempler grinned. \u201cOh, I expect you will repay me with another stunning success, thus demonstrating my brilliance.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI would do that with any mission.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kempler rubbed his chin meditatively and then decided to speak. It was no secret, after all. \u201cYou have better impulse control than anyone I have ever met, but ultimately it is counterproductive to deny our passions\u2014the joy of love, the clarity of hatred. Come to terms with these or let them destroy you. In the end, our personal history is either our servant or our master.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo this is a test?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLife is a test.\u201d<\/p>\n

The agent didn\u2019t bite on that, but merely asked \u201cWhat are the mission objectives?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAscend the ladder, take control of Artemis Solutions Systems, take it to IPO, and turn it over to Select so we can squeeze it for as much liquid capital as possible.  As you said\u2014it is a pump and dump.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd the staff?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve seen the Management Team\u2014 it is fairly reflective of the corporate body, so to speak.  Jennifer Page has recruited her team with an eye for maximizing social media potential.  Most, not all, of the ladies of Artemis are fairly attractive.  We expect generous candidate harvesting.  Commercial thinks we can liquidate the human capital as profitably as the financial, intellectual, and hard assets of the corporation.  You\u2019ve been assigned lead agent and I\u2019m to be your handler.  How does all that sound so far?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTime frame?  Methodology?  Am I solo on this?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe think twenty-four months should suffice.  Plenty of time for a Selecta agent to infiltrate and take over a business of this size\u2014especially one composed entirely of females.  As for methodology, consider it a sandbox\u2014 use whatever tools or tactics you see fit.  And yes, unless intervention is absolutely required, it is a one-man job.\u201d<\/p>\n

The younger man chuckled.  \u201cSo I\u2019m to work my way up– from the bottom– through an international technology player, assume leadership and drain it of any value\u2014all by my lonesome.  I\u2019ve never had an assignment of this scale, Herr Kempler.\u201d  It wasn\u2019t a plea, merely an observation.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re ready.  You know the ropes.  Your wetwork and fieldcraft are exemplary.  It is time for you to stretch and play on the corporate stage if you\u2019re to reach your full potential.\u201d<\/p>\n

The visitor looked straight into the eyes of the older man.  \u201cThis as you, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Kempler didn\u2019t answer.  He didn\u2019t need to.  \u201cThe Executive Council has confidence in you.  As your company sponsor, I have confidence in you.\u201d<\/p>\n

The prot\u00e9g\u00e9 lowered his head in a subtle sign of respect and gratitude.  \u201cI won\u2019t disappoint.  Frankly, the mission sounds\u2026 delicious.  A whole company of women waiting to be taken in hand, a fortune to be claimed, and a fast track to promotion.  What could go wrong?\u201d <\/p>\n

The insouciance was back and Kempler smiled.  \u201cAre you ready to launch Operation Company Man?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Operations boys sure have a sense of humor.  Yes, I\u2019m ready.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll have Quartermaster Division prepare the required back story documentation.  What name would you like to use for this one?\u201d<\/p>\n

When the prot\u00e9g\u00e9 answered, they both chuckled.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt would appear the apprentice also has a sense of humor.  Very well.  Give me twenty-four hours and your field kit will be delivered to\u2026 where are you staying again?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Cosmopolitan.  Very expensive.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have one more day to enjoy room service.  After that, you\u2019ll have to get used to living on a Management Trainee budget\u2014that is until you start your climb up the corporate mountain.  Good luck.\u201d<\/p>\n

He watched the younger man rise wordlessly and then disappear into the crowd of office workers.  Kempler considered himself as emotionally vacant as any long term executive at Selectacorp, but the boy\u2019s sangfroid was\u2026 exceptional.  Like a plane stripped down in order to exceed the manufacturer\u2019s recommended flight range, he knew the agent had dispensed with any superfluous baggage long ago.  He couldn\u2019t claim it was Selecta training or his own doing.   He\u2019d always been\u2026 compartmentalized. <\/p>\n

It was what had first caught his attention when he\u2019d been tasked with recruitment a few years ago.  SC networks continually scanned hundreds of millions of illegal government ordered psych profiles to cherry-pick that tiny cadre of potential recruits.  The prot\u00e9g\u00e9\u2019s profile suggested a 100% Optimate match and the initial proffer pretty much concluded as he\u2019d hoped.  At first, the prospect of recruitment was a wearying one.  However, once he\u2019d met with the candidate, he found the chore more enjoyable than he\u2019d thought.  The recent university graduate had been floating, trying half-heartedly to land some entry-level office job when he\u2019d made the offer of a lifetime.  There had been no hesitation.  He had no connection to his own family and his personal life was a hermetic one.  That human trafficking\u2014 or as SC preferred, \u2018human capital management\u2019\u2014should represent a fulfilling career path said all you needed to know about the age in which they were living.  Kempler had fallen in with SC only because no other paths were available.  For the prot\u00e9g\u00e9, it was a road leading to professional liberation. <\/p>\n

\u201cAnother coffee?\u201d<\/p>\n

Kempler looked up, noticing the server\u2019s name tag. <\/p>\n

CINDY<\/p>\n

Impresso Espresso Caf\u00e9<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n

As he watched the blonde attend to his order, he made a mental note.  $250,000 was pocket change.  Surely the Selectacorp Executive Dining Room could use a fresh new barista to perk things up?  By the time Cindy had returned with his order, he\u2019d already requested an Acquisition Order via smartphone.  She\u2019d \u201cquit\u201d her job via text in a few days, another twentysomething bit by wanderlust, and booked to travel Asia by herself.  The next time he\u2019d see her, they\u2019d both know who had authored her future.  He looked forward to it. <\/p>\n

\u201cAnything else?\u201d she asked with a modicum of solicitude.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot today, Cindy.  Not today, thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n

When he\u2019d drained the third cup, he made sure to leave her an overly generous tip.  When their reunion eventually happened, he wanted her to remember him well.    [\/vc_column_text][vc_column_text]\"\"<\/a>Chapter 1:  JUST ANOTHER MANIC MONDAY<\/strong><\/p>\n

Wherein we meet the new boy in town!<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

What a day!<\/p>\n

She felt the cool morning air fill her hungry lungs as she jogged past Harbour Plaza, glittering office towers reaching high into the blue cloudless sky.  The odd freighter bumped along but it was mostly pleasure craft that filled the blue waterway, most darting out from the Neptune Yacht Club, indulging in an early morning sail before the city\u2019s business day truly began.<\/p>\n

Deborah continued her jog, looping around Hump Alley.  Zenith\u2019s own Red Light district was squarely between her and the nicer neighbourhood she lived in and unavoidable.  Nevertheless, she kept a safe distance from the concentration of bars, clubs and shops that was such a blight on the city she otherwise had come to love. <\/p>\n

Finally arriving at her own apartment building, she wiped the beads of sweat from her brow and checked her fitbit.  7:30 on the dot and three miles logged for her morning job.  Plenty of time to get ready for work and she felt fantastic.  She\u2019d never had any weight issues, except for a spell where she\u2019d actually was a bit underweight in her senior year at State University.  That was her all-important final semester and she\u2019d been a bit frantic.  Once she\u2019d aced her Econ finals, she\u2019d rewarded herself with a pizza splurge that brought her right back to one hundred twenty pounds. <\/p>\n

Walking into Tout Suit Apartments only elevator, she immediately noted the young guy holding a box, surrounded by luggage.  She smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cMoving in?\u201d she asked pleasantly.<\/p>\n

The man stuck his head around the edge of the box he was holding with an effort.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow could you tell?\u201d he replied.  \u201cI hope I have room for all my junk.  You live her too?\u201d<\/p>\n

Deborah nodded.  \u201cIt\u2019s not bad.  Small but clean and you can\u2019t beat the location.  Oh\u2014what floor are you on?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDidn\u2019t I\u2014 oh, I\u2019m such an idiot!  Four please!\u201d<\/p>\n

Deborah tapped his floor, then her own.  She was on eight, the top floor and has great views of the harbour, but then she paid a bit more for the privilege.  She considered more polite chit chat but shelved the idea.  Thankfully, her elevator companion wasn\u2019t in a talkative mood either, though she did feel his eyes on her momentarily.  She knew she was attractive, even after a morning run, and she didn\u2019t resent it\u2014too much.<\/p>\n

DING<\/p>\n

She held the OPEN button.  \u201cLooks like you\u2019re home!\u201d<\/p>\n

He smiled and, struggling with his box, made his way out of the elevator.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet me help!\u201d Deborah offered, transferring the man\u2019s luggage from inside the elevator so he could collect it once he\u2019d relieved himself of his box.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks!  Appreciate it!  See you around, I guess!\u201d the young man hoped aloud.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe!\u201d Deborah tossed back.<\/p>\n

\u201cSay. What\u2019s your name?\u201d the newcomer asked as the doors began to slide shut.<\/p>\n

\u201cUh, Deborah!\u201d she answered as the doors closed and she continued her trip upwards.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t get his name, she released.  Not that it mattered.  He wasn\u2019t her type. <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

After a shower, Deborah sat in her small balcony devouring half of a grapefruit.  She cherished her view.  She found the Artemis Tower and Campus complex in the distance.  Once she wrapped up the Management Trainee Program, she\u2019d rotate through the company\u2019s departments, most of which were based in the tower.  There was Planning, of course, which was on the other side of the CBD.  The Consulting Services Group she was currently assigned to was in a small leased office building just a few blocks away.  All were within walking distance but by the time she was promoted, she might want to move closer to HQ and into a more upscale building.<\/p>\n

She was three months in and things were going well.  She\u2019d survived that initial confusion and had masked her disappointment at being placed in Consulting.  It was the least prestigious business unit and felt isolated, like some outpost compared to the sexier HQ or even Planning.  She\u2019d wanted to get into Artemis before graduating State University back in the Midwest.  It was THE place to start a career\u2014a hot tech start-up play that was building speed towards an IPO. <\/p>\n

Yet despite her Summa cum Laude Economics degree and impeccable recommendations, she\u2019d been knocked back three years ago.  A sympathetic HR assistant named Jada had suggested she come back with an MBA in hand and try again.  That had been a tough decision.  It was a huge commitment\u2014 more student loan debt and three years of her life she\u2019d never get back.  Then again, job prospects weren\u2019t great anyway.  Sure, she could land something but that wasn\u2019t the point.  She wanted what she wanted\u2014 she always had.   Her younger sister Katherine had mocked her as \u201cThe Machine\u201d since high school years and Deborah knew she was a pathological overachiever type.  She\u2019d made the call and began applying to B Schools. She wasn\u2019t concerned about getting accepted somewhere, but she wanted Forbes\u2014which she got.  International Studies seemed a perfect track to prep her for overseas assignments and she projected herself into the future, running a business from London or Singapore or even more exotic foreign cities.  On a schedule of her own design, Deborah was now exactly where she wanted to be\u2014 a Management Trainee of the most exciting corporations of the twenty-first century, wielding a prestigious Forbes School MBA earned with high honours.<\/p>\n

She wished her dad had lived to see this day.  An air traffic controller, he had been a distant figure much of her childhood but in retirement he would have enjoyed seeing her kick-off her career in such a powerful way.  The heart attack that took him at his desk in the tower in her second year at State meant that would never happen.  Nor had Life been kind with regard to her mother, with whom she\u2019d always had a close relationship.  A lifelong party player in state politics, her mother had climbed from Precinct Captain to School Committee Member to City Council to State Representative, she\u2019d ended serving her district as State Senator for the past decade.  That was until the symptoms of early onset of Alzheimer\u2019s began robbing her mother of the firm grasp she\u2019d always had on her world.  In the middle of her MBA, she\u2019d had to organise her mother\u2019s financial affairs to guarantee her long term care.  Thankfully, the value of the family home meant her mom would have care for as long as she lived.  For all that Responsible Daughter duty, Deborah\u2019s last visit to Peacedale Sanatorium had been with a stranger. <\/p>\n

Which left her alone on the world\u2014almost.  She and Katherine, her younger sister by three years, had never been close.  They were too different, too competitive for their parent\u2019s attention.  Deborah was tightly controlled, buttoned downed and self-aware.   Katherine was spontaneous, risk-taking and lived in the now.  Her current pursuit of a Performance Art degree was incomprehensible to her\u2014an utter waste of time and money.  Then there were Kate\u2019s string of boys and misdemeanour drug charges that her mother had been forced to use political favours to deal with.  Deborah suspected she didn\u2019t know the half of her prodigal sister\u2019s mischief and didn\u2019t want to.  Other than the occasional requests for \u2018loans\u2019, they rarely talked.  That was a shame but Deborah was mature enough to acknowledge Life\u2019s disappointments without dwelling on them.<\/p>\n

The navy blue tropical wool suit from H&M was one of her faves and she had complimented it with a white cotton blouse, sensible matching navy blue flats and neutral stockings.  She had her hair styled these days, but the colour was her own\u2014a gold blonde that contrasted with her light blue eyes.  Makeup was an afterthought\u2014 a mere dash of lipstick and dash of blush.  She had been told by her infrequent boyfriends she was a natural \u2018girl next door\u2019 look that makeup could only detract from and it was true.  Deborah grabbed her soft brown leather Kate Spade briefcase, a B School graduation gift to herself, and she was off, ready to begin her third month at Artemis Solution Systems.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>The Artemis Consulting Services Group\u2019s office was a one-floor pre-fab affair that totally antithetical to the Artemis brand.  It might have been home to a third rate insurance agency, industrial distribution outfit or an auto parts wholesaler.  It housed the six-member team run by Susan Granger, the unit\u2019s manager.  She\u2019d been sold the CSG as an outgrowth of the company\u2019s booking consulting contracts and that Susan was an insider with the personal support of CEO Jennifer Page.  It had sounded good until she\u2019d arrived at the address she\u2019d been directed to by HR.  After the futuristic fit-out of the corporate campus, it was downright depressing.  Everyone\u2019s got to start somewhere, she thought, opening the glass door.<\/p>\n

At the receptionist\u2019s desk, she waited patiently, a pointed silence beginning to grow.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood morning, Ms. Jones.\u201d  Britney had broken the silence with a greeting boarding on resentful.  There had been a \u2018discussion\u2019 with the airhead the previous week and a correction regarding forms of address.  The ditzy receptionist had been informed that \u2018Deborah\u2019 was inappropriate and \u2018Debbie\u2019 was positively out of bounds.  Susan, once again, had neither backed her up or requested she back down. <\/p>\n

\u201cGood morning, Britney.\u201d<\/p>\n

The tarted-up office girl gave her an insincere half-smile as she walked past her.  It stopped her in her tracks.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

Britney looked at her computer screen, coyly ignoring her gaze.  \u201cWhat \u2018what\u2019, Ms. Jones?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cKnock it off, Britney.  You look like the cat who swallowed the canary.  What\u2019s up?\u201d<\/p>\n

Britney considered before responding dramatically. \u201cOh, well\u2014he\u2019s here.  In Ms. Granger\u2019s office,\u201d she added with a knowing smile. <\/p>\n

\u201cWho is \u2018he\u2019 then?\u201d  Deborah was losing patience with this twit!<\/p>\n

\u201cThe court guy!  The man the company had to hire because of that legal stuff!\u201d the receptionist explained with unseemly excitement.  \u201cThere\u2019s gonna be an all staff at 9:30 in the conference room to meet him!\u201d she practically squealed.<\/p>\n

Deborah nodded, then headed off to her own desk.  She\u2019d heard about the out of court settlement requiring the \u2018tempering\u2019 of the formerly all-female hiring policy.  So, he was being dumped here.  Just more evidence she\u2019d been stuck in a dud department!  She knew she mustn\u2019t dwell on negatives.  That was the wrong mindset! <\/p>\n

\u201cHi, Ms. Jones!  Can I get you some coffee?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood morning, Amanda!  You know you don\u2019t have to do this,\u201d she admonished, even as she reached for her wallet.  Handing her a bill, she added \u201cAnd get one for yourself, ok?\u201d<\/p>\n

The button-nosed intern\u2014 her intern, really\u2014 just smiled. <\/p>\n

\u201cNo, thanks though!  And I don\u2019t mind at all.  Be back in five!\u201d<\/p>\n

Deborah smiled.  Amanda was a smart college kid interning at Artemis.  It was to her credit, as landing an internship was pretty competitive.  Assuming she did a decent job, it also meant the high probability of getting a job offer upon graduation.  Given what she knew about Amanda\u2014 a hard-working girl on a full boat academic scholarship pursuing a Finance degree at City College\u2014that would be a very big deal.  Susan had assigned Deborah as her manager, which sort of meant she was responsible for the girl, a responsibility she took seriously.  Of course, she\u2019d never required Amanda to go get her morning coffee but it had just sort of happened.<\/p>\n

Not that she minded.  She was an MBA after all– the only one in the CSG.  She looked at her framed degree, proudly displayed next to the window which provided her with a nice city view.  For a cubicle, she\u2019d done okay, scoring one that offered semi-privacy in a corner that also gave her a precious window spot.  A corner cubicle wasn\u2019t a corner office, she thought, but it was a nice start!<\/p>\n

She had a few minutes before the all-staff and began clicking through her emails.  There was a reminder she owed Jada Baxter in HR a Progress Update on Amanda Ellsbach.  She\u2019d tackle that before lunch and assure Jada Amanda was doing a great job.  Anne Miller was asking for a reorganisation of HER client database and had, of course, cc\u2019d Susan.  She sighed.  Anne was a typical sales prima donna! <\/p>\n

\u201cHere you go, Ms. Jones!\u201d  It was Amanda, back with her coffee and change.  \u201cWhat would you like me to work on today?\u201d  The girl was so eager to get to work!<\/p>\n

\u201cAh, let\u2019s see.  Why don\u2019t you check on how the temp girl\u2014Jill?– is doing with the document transfer project?\u201d<\/p>\n

Amanda nodded.  \u201cSure!  Will do, Ms. Jones!\u201d  she promised, bounding back to the Records Room, where the aforementioned temp had been scanning old files for weeks now.  Deborah shrugged.  Make poor life decisions, end up with dead-end jobs, she observed.<\/p>\n

An incoming email snapped her attention back to her screen.<\/p>\n

\u201cTO: DEBORAH JONES<\/p>\n

SUBJECT: STUDENT LOAN TRANSFER\u201d<\/p>\n

Deborah clicked on the email and read.<\/p>\n

\u201cAs a result of the recent acquisition of ScholarSource by our firm, your student loan has been transferred to our care.  Don\u2019t worry\u2014nothing will change and the current conditions of your student loan will remain exactly the same!  Please click on \u2018YES\u201d to acknowledge you have been properly informed of this change in your loan and to accept the new Terms and Conditions as required by Federal Civil Education Code, Title 3, Article 23.\u201d<\/p>\n

She clicked.<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you!  We are happy to welcome you to the DegreeCorp family.  If we can be of any assistance, feel free to contact our Customer Care Centre 24\/7!\u201d<\/p>\n

She\u2019d never had any dramas with her student loan. She\u2019d organised a fairly modest monthly payment as soon as she\u2019d landed the Artemis job.  It was manageable and as soon as she got her promotion out of the Management Trainee Program, she\u2019d increase the payment.  It was a big loan but then she\u2019d paid for a degree from one of the top B Schools in the country.  It was also only big now.  As soon as she started breaking into middle management, she should be able to knock it down pretty quickly.<\/p>\n

\u201cDeborah?\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked up, assuming a smile. <\/p>\n

\u201cSusan!  Hi!\u201d<\/p>\n

Susan Granger, Manager of the Consulting Services Group, looked as flustered as always. <\/p>\n

Brushing a strand of blonde hair back, she smiled back.  \u201cJust trying to round everyone up for the All Staff.  You ready?\u201d<\/p>\n

Deborah nodded and followed.  Soon the whole CSG team had filed into the back Conference Room table– Anne Miller, the CSG sales exec, looking at her watch and bored; Britney Bower, their GED trained receptionist; Jill Vander, the bitter college drop reduced to temping; Amanda Ellsbach, her own intern; Susan Granger, the erstwhile boss of the group and herself. <\/p>\n

And standing next to Susan\u2014 that guy!<\/p>\n

As she took her seat, he smiled and winked.<\/p>\n

\u201cOK,\u201d Susan began.  \u201cThanks for your attention!  As you know, the company has recently agreed to EEOC requests that Artemis offer more career opportunities to unrepresented communities\u2014in this case, males.  While Artemis is a proud advocate for female opportunity\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Anne yawned.  \u201cSorry, Susan.  Late night.   Please, go on.\u201d  The sales rep loved waving her engagement and fianc\u00e9 in front of any and all.  She\u2019d spent the night at her attorney fianc\u00e9 and gotten the sheets messed up.  Big deal.<\/p>\n

Susan nodded impatiently.  \u201cWhat I was saying is that we\u2019re pleased to offer an opportunity in our group to our new colleague, who will be joining us as a Management Trainee.\u201d<\/p>\n

That caught Deborah\u2019s attention.<\/p>\n

\u201cEveryone, say hello to Hunter Downe!\u201d<\/p>\n

Everyone followed Susan\u2019s lead and dutifully clapped.  Britney looked smitten.  This was all such a bad idea and of course, they dumped him on us, Deborah thought.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks, ladies.  I\u2019m really excited to be joining you.  Hi, Deborah!\u201d<\/p>\n

Deborah broadcast a neutral smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou two know each other?\u201d Susan asked, surprised.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d <\/p>\n

\u201cNo, not really,\u201d Deborah explained.  \u201cYou\u2014uh, he just moved into my building\u2014 Tout Suites Apartments.  I didn\u2019t even know his, uh, your name,\u201d she insisted.<\/p>\n

Britney\u2019s eyes narrowed.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh!   Well!  In any case, we all look forward to Hunter\u2019s contributions.  Where will we put you though?  Next to Deborah, perhaps?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat would be a tight fit,\u201d Deborah pushed back, politely but forcefully.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wouldn\u2019t want to cramp anyone\u2019s style.  Is there room in the back?\u201d the new boy suggested amiably.<\/p>\n

Susan nodded, grateful to avoid conflict.  \u201cYes, of course!  There\u2019s a cubicle near the Records Room.  Jill, would you mind cleaning it up for Mr. Downe?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease, Hunter will do just fine!\u201d New Boy insisted cheerfully.<\/p>\n

Jill smiled.  \u201cNo problemo, Hunter!\u201d<\/p>\n

Resuming her focus on the day\u2019s To-Do List, Deborah watched the new guy make the rounds as he made personal introductions.  It was clear Britney was already thrilled to have a bearer of XY chromosomes in the house.  Jill seemed intrigued as well.  If he plays his cards right, she thought, Hunter could have some fun, as long as he had fairly low standards.  Anne had left for client meetings as soon as the meeting was over.  Susan had retreated back into her office and Amanda hadn\u2019t registered much interest as she returned to working with Jill on the document scanning.  She stiffened as Hunter now approached her.<\/p>\n

He extended a hand, which she reluctantly shook.<\/p>\n

\u201cWow\u2014 what a coincidence!  Nice to formally meet you, Deborah.\u201d  He was well-spoken, confident.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, well\u2014 welcome aboard,\u201d she responded with subdued enthusiasm.<\/p>\n

\u201cAs a fellow Management Trainee, do you have any advice?  I was hoping you\u2019d show me the ropes around here,\u201d he added.  Was that a smirk?  And she didn\u2019t like the way he was subtly assessing her.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure you\u2019ll find your way,\u201d she offered.  \u201cWhere did you go?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTo school, you mean?  I see you went to Forbes.  Great school.  International Studies, I see.  Are you gunning for an overseas posting?\u201d  He was looking at the framed MBA on her wall.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I am.\u201d  She regretted her curtness.  Why be so defensive?  New Boy was starting three months behind her.  She\u2019d be on to a management role while he was still stuck here\u2014assuming he made it through his probationary period.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t worry about me then\u2014 International has no appeal for me.  Been there, done that,\u201d he explained vaguely.  \u201cAnyway, nice to meet my co-worker\u2014 and neighbour!\u201d<\/p>\n

And that was that.  Deborah noted he\u2019d never answered her question about what school he attended.  Probably some fifth-tier college he was embarrassed to reveal.  The more she thought about him, the less of a threat he seemed.<\/p>\n

Gone in three months, she predicted.  [\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][\/vc_column][\/vc_row]<\/p>\n<\/section>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Author\u2019s Note   Dear Reader,   What you\u2019re about to read started as an adult NSFW game I developed years ago.  Corporate Raider was actually a trilogy, each game a learning project, with each building on the previous one.  It presented a dystopian corporate gamescape in the near future where…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0},"yoast_head":"\nCompany Man sample chapters - SelectaCorp<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"http:\/\/selectacorp.dk\/wordpress\/company-man-sample-chapters\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_GB\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Company Man sample chapters - SelectaCorp\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Author\u2019s Note   Dear Reader,   What you\u2019re about to read started as an adult NSFW game I developed years ago.  Corporate Raider was actually a trilogy, each game a learning project, with each building on the previous one.  It presented a dystopian corporate gamescape in the near future where...\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"http:\/\/selectacorp.dk\/wordpress\/company-man-sample-chapters\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"SelectaCorp\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2021-01-27T15:52:44+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"http:\/\/selectacorp.dk\/wordpress\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/01\/POSTER-House-Rules-300x225.png\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Estimated reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"91 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"http:\/\/selectacorp.dk\/wordpress\/company-man-sample-chapters\/\",\"url\":\"http:\/\/selectacorp.dk\/wordpress\/company-man-sample-chapters\/\",\"name\":\"Company Man sample chapters - 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