[Seeker]

Disclaimer: This is fiction. Do not interpret it as anything else. This is a story with themes of non-consent, rape, reluctance and sexual manipulation.  The acts depicted in this story are criminal and are only acceptable in fantasy. If you are not interested in this type of story, please look elsewhere.

As a fan of Sci Fi, I’ve wanted to write a story on this forum for a while. Recently reading a few books on the potentially dystopian future that may be created by the rise of infotech and biotech, I thought that would provide an interesting lens for a story here.

This first chapter is mainly about world building and a bit if character development. I hope it meets the challenging expectations of this genre.

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Digital Power

‘Wake up Moona. . . Wake up. . . It is time to get ready.’ The voice in her ear whispered gently, penetrating her dreams.  She gradually surfaced from her slumber, comforted by the soft sheets, puffy duvet and spongy pillows. White bedding contrasting with the soothing pale green walls of her small one-room apartment, specifically designed to relax and refresh.

Moona stretched, yawning, her tank top hardly containing her full breasts, almost oversized on her slender frame. She squeezed them playfully and tweaked her easily hardened nipples, enjoying the sensual feeling easily achieved by a feature of which she was proud, despite the unwanted attention they seemed to attract from the male students and even some lecturers on campus.  She kept fit and in shape for herself, proud of her firm body and pleased that it contributed to her high health index.

‘Coffee is made and there is a bowl of fruit in the fridge.’ The voice in her head encouraged. ‘You have got ten minutes to eat and get into the shower. You need to leave by 8 am precisely.’

“Sure Al. I’m on it.” She murmured in the way she always responded to the Algorithm, jumping out of bed, her brief panties the only other garment she was wearing, striding purposefully over to the kitchenette.

As she approached a 3-D image appeared on the wall, visuals of storms wreaking havoc on people and buildings in the Middle, accompanied by a precise voice describing the troubles out there.  The date-time in the top right corner read 7:03. July 16th, 2038.

Moona really felt deep compassion for the unfortunate people in the Middle, the self-governed territories in the tropics. Prone to extreme floods and droughts with few resources, weak governance and widespread inequality, and most importantly limited access to global information and technology.

They were the source of some natural resources and selected migration for the Tech Nations, but the rise of new technology two decades before had rendered most of humanity irrelevant. Not even exploited, other than as markets for the consumption of basic commodities and services.  People eking out their existence, increasingly remote and left behind by the dual revolutions in infotech and biotech that were increasingly controlled by a small global elite.

In the late 2020s research on the interface between information technology and biotechnology proved without a shadow of a doubt that human decisions were based on a series of heuristic risk assessments, reflecting learned and emotional impulses that were usually sub-optimal.  At the same time the rise of AI combined with biotech and infotech was demonstrated to assist people to make better decisions reflecting their preferences.

This was a natural progression from earlier dependence and general dumbing down of humans with the ubiquitous rise of the early algorithms behind search engines, map direction, social media platforms and entertainment apps, replacing the need for memory and experiential decision making.  The algorithms could do it better if they knew a person’s preferences.  And knowing someone’s preferences was simple, with the rise of big data processing, being able to compare an individual with billions of others to accurately discern their character and desires.

Improvements in biotech, miniaturisation and universal coverage of ultra-speed connectivity and streaming micro-cams, meant that the smartphone became all but irrelevant.  A small rice size receptor implanted behind the ear was all that was necessary for the algorithms to communicate with a person, while wearable biomonitors and cams would feed the necessary information on an individual’s location, actions, emotions and hormones back to the algorithm to provide appropriate real-time guidance on both mundane and life-changing decisions.

By the late 2030s, literally everyone in the Tech Nations had the device installed and depended upon their own personalised Algorithm.  Moona called the gentle male voice in her head Al and permanently wore a black choker to provide bio data.  She often felt it was more like a collar than an accessory, but she dared not remove it for too long, because ongoing tracking of her biophysical, chemical and hormonal state was a condition of subsidised social services.

Stylistically, women commonly wore chokers, while men wore wrist bands. The rise of biotech, rejuvenation, and appearance enhancement meant that how one looked was as important as what one did.  Automated social media posting enabled by the algorithm, ensured one was seen in the right ways electronically, but required one to always look good.

While she couldn’t afford comprehensive appearance modification, Moona was blessed with natural beauty. Her mixed Hawaiian and Scandinavian genes giving her long silken brown hair, high cheekbones, exotic eyes and permanently pouting lips, creating a sensual and striking look that men swooned over.

She finished her shower, appreciating the reflection of her body in the full length bathroom mirror, firm breasts that defied gravity, ripped stomach from hours in the gym, round hips that framed the trimmed strip of hair above her neat pussy, long taught tanned legs that tapered to narrow ankles.  Applying the minimal amount of makeup to accentuate her gorgeous features, she smiled at herself, feeling good.

‘It is time to get dressed Moona.’ Al’s tone never changed, but the word selection chided her to action.

“Okay, okay.” When they were alone, people tended to talk to the Algorithm as if it were in the room with her. In public, it was seen as bad manners and Al only gave guidance, while monitored everything. Always for her own good and only to support her choices. . .

She went across to her wardrobe, mainly filled with student clothes but three new work outfits hanging neatly for her to choose.  She reached for the most conservative loose knee length skirt and blouse.

‘Not a good choice Moona.’ Al’s even voice in her head.

“It’s the most comfortable.” She murmured. “The others make me feel so exposed.”

‘You will stand out at DT. Professional women there dress smartly. I advised you not to buy it.’

She’d gone clothes shopping the day before, preparing for the first day at her new job out of university.  As always, Al was part of her clothes selection, effectively advising her by combining information on her tastes, the nature of the occasion and social expectations about which she could not be aware.

To her incredible pride and excitement, she’d been appointed as a junior staffer in the ethics department at DT, one of the world’s mega tech conglomerates. She knew Al had helped her get the job, engaging with the company HR Algorithm to review her biometric and psychometric data, to evaluate her fit with the job role.

She had the educational qualifications, having recently majored from a good university with philosophy and ethics, chosen because in the new world it was one of the few roles artificial intelligence was not suited for.  Moona had been deemed suitable because she’d shown an aptitude for logic and free thought, based on a strong, but flexible moral code, and with enough social compliance to be useful to the tech company.

Information about the implied or common dress code for woman at DT had been the basis of Al’s recommendations, guiding her to what she thought were more risqué short pencil-skirt suits, with tailored jackets over flimsy blouses.  Definitely not the long flowing dresses or pant suits she’d initially selected. She’d chosen two outfits picked by Al but had insisted on this one as well, because that is what her friends at smaller less high-profile companies were wearing and she felt more comfortable in it.

That act alone had taken some courage, because the Algorithm always noted non-alignment with its superior decision-making competency.  While not forbidden, because the concept of free will was enshrined in the use of AI to support people, there were tolerance bands for decision alignment.

Effective social functioning depended upon maintaining a low risk profile, because non-alignment implied sub-optimal decision making, which would have negative consequences on everything from one’s health, safety, education, work or relationships.  Access to health care, university scholarships, desirable jobs, insurance and decent accommodation all required a low-risk profile.

Moona had always effectively managed profile, which had resulted in her educational and job opportunities, even though she came from a regular family.  No big corporate high-flyers as role models or more importantly to provide her with a social network. She’d got where she was by virtue of her capabilities, her diligence, her cooperation. . . and her looks if she was really honest.

Unlike her friend Rags, also a bright philosophy student. He’d become enamoured by anarchist thought and increasingly rejected his Algorithm’s guidance. When he’d dropped into a high-risk profile, he’d also dropped out of university without saying anything to anyone, his necessary scholarship withdrawn. University without scholarship was only affordable by the super wealth elite.

There were even unsubstantiated rumours of him being disconnected from the Algorithm and possibly exiled to the Middle Territories.  In this brave new world, civilisation meant cooperation and optimality, not disruption and dissent. So, people didn’t really talk about him much once he was out of their lives.

Now Moona had a choice to make. She’d rejected guidance to buy the outfit, so she felt she couldn’t reject it again. Maybe in a couple of days’ time but not yet. So, she picked the short tight navy-blue skirt suit and translucent ivory blouse.

“Okay. You win.” She muttered in frustration, going over to pick out underwear from the dresser.

She reached for her regular bikini-cut panties and a plain bra when Al intervened. ‘That will not look good with your outfit. Try the new black lingerie you chose yesterday.’

With an irritated groan, she picked up the tiny lace thong and push-up bra that Al had advised her to buy, to prevent lines showing though the skirt and to add a hint of style to the plain blouse. She put them on, feeling quite sexy when she briefly glanced at herself in the mirror.

‘And the stockings. Your heels will not look good with bare skin.’ If Al ever displayed emotion, this would have been said as if she were trying his patience.

Reluctantly, Moona slipped on the black thigh-high stockings and the three-inch pumps that Al had advised her to buy, to match the lingerie.  Feeling conflicted, smart, sexy, sophisticated and slutty all at the same time, but confident, knowing no one would know what she had on underneath. It was only for her she rationalised, as she slipped on the blouse and skirt, noticing the highlight of bra lace through the translucent blouse, before covering it with the jacket.

She left the apartment on the dot of eight, as planned, to pick up her driverless ride. On the way to start her exciting new professional life at DT.

Good to see that DT is still doing well in the future.

Great beginning i see many paths this could take, including Al taking over her sex drive to make her more compliant with needs of others "Sorry Moona but your endorphin counts needs to be maintained at...!" Merit earned and of course you know i can't wait to read more!

[Seeker]

Thanks for the encouragement Shocker and chg. I realise this is a less frequented forum and am happy that you liked the start. Again a slow steady build.

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Chapter 2

Kane walked confidently, if somewhat nonchalantly, into the three-story glass and steel architectural statement that was his head office.  He never came in before 10am, preferring to start his day at home with a leisurely coffee and breakfast and catching up on news. Being the CEO of DT meant he wasn’t bound by the 9am start time of his minions. He glanced appreciatively at the two receptionists on the front desk, who watching him apprehensively in return.

He looked good for his forty-five years, the product of wealth, and the appearance and longevity enhancement it afforded.  Thick dark hair, chiselled features, cold grey eyes and a lean fit body, gave him presence, which was reinforced by the power he was used to wielding.  Kane was a member of the Elite, the small super wealthy class that emerged with the rise in biotech and infotech companies. The business leaders that controlled the data, information, technology and infrastructure that underpinned the post-industrial economy.

DT had risen as a conglomerate that pioneered the use of big data and information to influence people to support causes, purchase goods, trust brands and elect politicians.  Pressing the right buttons in effective ways to make individual’s ‘free will’ respond emotionally in order deliver a predictable outcome from activists, consumers and electorates alike.  Outcomes that the elite’s desired and enabled resource flow, corporate growth and political power.

Most importantly ensuring political allies were elected and corporate aligned policies and legislation were adopted. Taking the early pioneering work by groups like Cambridge Analytica and perfecting it to be far more effective.  It was companies like DT that created and maintained the Algorithms upon which everyone depended.

As he rode up in the glass elevator that only went to the third floor, where all of his fellow executives had their offices and facilities, he looked out over the open plan spaces on the ground and first floors.  This wasn’t the heart and body of the company, just it’s head and its face to the outside world. Operations and R&D were located offsite at the DT Campus.

Most of DT’s head office employees were woman, young technically competent good-looking women. He smiled to see them sitting at their desks, common meeting areas or clacking along in their heels, all wearing short business skirts and blouses.  Worker bees servicing the interests of the company.  Electronically linked to the company Algorithm, referred to as Alpha.

As he exited the elevator, a statuesque brunette was waiting with a tablet to brief him on the day and take any instructions, having been told by Alpha that he was on his way up.  While not really necessary because the Alpha would assist him through the day, he loved the anachronism of a female assistant briefing him.  Dressed to his preference in an extremely short stretch skirt showing a hint of her stocking tops on her long legs, with pumps creating a delightful tension in her muscles, and a sheer blouse revealing a suggestion of her lacy red bra.  Her manicured and painted fingernails, hair done up in a messy bun with large framed glasses accentuating her pretty hazel eyes and gorgeous features, ensured that she was the image of a retro sexualised secretary.

“Morning, Sir. I trust you are well this morning.” Her sultry voice, quiet and respectful to match the attentive expression.  But not the slightly anxious look in her eyes that she could never hide. It was never good if he was in a foul mood, nor if she was guilty of some perceived infraction.

“Actually, very good Stephi.” He said with a self-assured smile. “What have we got today?”

“ExCo at eleven, lunch with Aiden and then a Council meeting at two. You’re free from four.” Referencing the tablet in the way she knew he liked.

“Good.” Approaching his office and a pretty young blond, standing at attention holding a cup of coffee, he grinned, saying. “Ahh. Thank you, Candi. Why don’t the two of you join me for a few minutes. . . And shut the door.”

He had already gone into the office when the two women glanced at each other in trepidation, following him in, both clearly hearing Alpha’s instructions in their heads. ‘Cleavage. Posture. Parade.’



Over an hour earlier, Moona had a very different experience of arriving at the DT head office.  Not having an access card, she’d reported to security.  A couple of large uniformed male guards were lounging in chairs behind a counter, chatting when she arrived.  She didn’t like the way they looked her up and down, literally undressing her, before grinning and looking at each other.

“Morning Miss. Can we help you?” A gruff voice from the crew cut man, not sounding very helpful.

“Yes, please. My name is Moona Wilson.” She knew to be respectful of authority. “I’m starting my new job here today. In the Ethics Section.” She couldn’t help revealing her sense of pride at this statement.

“Hmm. A smart professional girl.” The other bald one said with a smirk. “Look here, love.”

An optical scanner confirmed her claim, while she bit her tongue to prevent responding with indignation at his familiarity.

‘Calm down, Moona. Your bios are elevating.’ Al’s calming voice in her head affirming her decision. ‘It means nothing.’

She didn’t agree and made a note to raise their misogynistic attitudes to her section head once she was inside. But not wanting to antagonise these men, yet.

The bald one took her to a side entrance, into a room with security scanners. A ping sounded as she stood front of the body scanner, hands held above her head, feet apart.

“Sorry, love.” The guard smiled without a hint of apology. “I just need to check you’re not carrying anything prohibited. Stand here. Feet on the marks. Hands behind your neck.”

“Surely a female guard should do a body search?” She asked.

Al advising. ‘Do what he says. It is protocol.’

Taking the required position. Thinking this was very odd, but not having the courage to challenge the security man.

“No female guards on duty.” He responded, standing in front of her, face to face, eye to eye, waiting for her to resist.  Sliding his hands down her arm sleeves, down her side, around and up her back, and then under her boobs, giving them a subtle squeeze.

She said nothing, just turning bright red with embarrassment as he knelt down and unnecessarily gliding his hands from her ankles, up her stockinged legs and under her skirt across the skin of her upper thighs. Muttering “Nice” as his hand bumped into her panty clad crotch and slipped up the crack of her thong split buttocks.

“Hey. Don’t!’ She yelped, moving away and bringing her hands down to push his arm away.

“Just doing my job, Miss.” He leered. “Can’t take any chances with security at DT. Too many secrets and too much tech that others want.” As if that explained her inappropriate groping.

‘Don’t make trouble. He is finished now.’ Al chiding her.

The guard led a blushing Moona down into the basement, along a deserted corridor with closed doors, until she was shown into a room marked ‘INDUCTION’.

It was decorated in the retro chic style of the rest of the building, but windowless with only a couple of closed doors leading off on either side.  It felt almost like a doctor’s waiting room, a couch and some comfortable chairs around a low table, on which were spread company pamphlets instead of magazines.

“Take a seat. Someone will be with you shortly.” The guard left, ogling her one last time, before closing the door with a loud click. It sounded as if it were locked, which it was when she immediately tried to open it.

“What’s going on Al?” She murmured, finding the entire ordeal increasingly strange. “Al. . . Al?”

Silence. Nothing. She started to panic. They must be jamming signal. She hadn’t been without Al there to support her. Ever.

Calm down. That’s what Al would say. Be patient. There’s nothing to worry about. You’re here for a job. They’re super security conscious, as you’d expect from a tech company.

She controlled her breathing, with difficulty, drawing on her yoga techniques, as she sat down, perched on the edge of one of the chairs, hands clasped in her lap, eyes flitting nervously around the room. Waiting.

A couple of minutes later a tall stunning black woman entered the room from the door opposite Moona’s chair.

“Hello Moona.” She strode purposefully, smiled welcomingly and held out her hand in greeting. “I’m Jamie, from HR.  I’ll be managing your induction.”

“Good morning.” Standing greeting diffidently, shaken by the events of the past half hour, but still too new and timid to question. Maybe there would be a chance later?

“Please sit down.” As they were sitting Jamie continued. “There are some details to agree before we start. And I’ll need your agreement on a couple of things. All fairly routine. Okay?”

Moona nodded, cautiously. “What kind of details?”

“You’ve probably realised that you can’t access your Algorithm in here?”

Nodding again, not sure of her rights. “I’ve never been anywhere without connectivity since I can remember.”

“I understand how that would be disturbing. But you need to remember that this is a global tech company with billions of people’s information. We have to be secure and vigilant.” Jamie said this as if she were evangelising for a social cause. “All employees are required to migrate to the DT Alpha platform to access their Algorithm. Nothing will change for you. Your Algorithm will keep all your preferences, information and history. It’ll just be more secure.”

“Is that really necessary?” Taken aback by the requirement.

Jamie’s expression adopted the universal superciliousness of HR as she lectured. “It’s a condition of employment.” Then condescending. “You’re in the real world now. You need to grow up.”

Putting a tablet in front of her, with a fingerprint reader and camera monitoring what she read and agreed to.  Stunned, cowed, Moona took it, flipping through the small print of the five-page consent form. Scanning, feeling embarrassed about taking too much time to read it all.

“Okay. When will it be activated?” Adding her fingerprint and optical scan, before handing it back.

“Thank you. We’ll send you a copy.” Jamie beamed, but with a hint of something disconcerting in her eyes.” As if talking to herself, she murmured. “Activate Alpha for Miss Moona Wilson.”

And then as if he hadn’t been silent for half an hour, Al’s voice the same as ever ‘Hello Moona. It seems that we have both joined DT.’ The closest thing to a joke that she’d ever heard Al make.

Relief flooded Moona’s expression, but all she was prepared to whisper was “Hi Al. Glad you’re back.”

Now that the first order of business was done, Jamie didn’t hesitate. “DT has bought your scholarship debt. It’s common practice with the large tech companies and is usually regarded as a perk. Because we provide competitive rates and an affordable payment schedule to our young staff.” Raising an eyebrow to ask if Moona wanted to query anything.

Continuing when she looked stunned but saying nothing. “Here are the terms and conditions. Please acknowledge your obligations.”

Again, Moona took the tablet and scanned it. Seeing the amount that would come off her monthly salary to cover the repayment and thinking that it was manageable. She always knew that she would have to pay her scholarship debt back. Everyone except the Elite had student debt, but so soon? And to the company rather than to the state?

‘I have reviewed the terms. You have no alternative Moona. You will need to sign.’ Al being thorough and logical as usual, but that didn’t stop a feeling of disquiet twisting her gut.

What happened if she didn’t like the job or got fired. Then what. She looked and found that section in the agreement, indicating that she would have to find an alternative debt holder or pay it back. Was this just a different form of indenture?

‘There is nothing you can do about it now.” Al’s emotionless voice not helping her nerves. “And you should not worry, DT is a great company for a young woman to work for. They achieve over 90% in their engagement survey. This is what you have always wanted.” Al was right, even if he sounded like a promotional video.  She’d studied philosophy to work for a tech company.

Moona endorsed the agreement and gave the tablet back to the tall black woman, who then stood up with an almost relieved sigh. “Great. You’re official now. Come with me. It’s time for your medical.”
 
As she followed Jamie out of the room through one of the side doors, she summoned up the courage to query. “Can I ask you something?” To Jamie’s nod and quizzical look Monna tentatively asked. “The guards this morning. They acted very. . . umm. . . inappropriately. . . umm. . . disrespectfully. One even felt me up during the body search. . . umm. . . Is there something. . .”

Jamie laughed brittlely as she interrupted. “Oh them. They’re just goons. Don’t take them seriously. You shouldn’t have to interact with them too much again. My advice is not to make a fuss on your first day. Let it go.”

Moona was about to respond to such a dismissive and unsupportive perspective from HR when Al chimed in. ‘She is right. You need to be a team player. Not a trouble causer. That is very important in DT.’

Gritting her teeth and supressing her natural outrage and frustration, Moona carried on walking in silence. But Al unhelpfully reminted her ‘Your bios are elevating. Calm down. Breathe deeply. They are monitoring your state. Keep within regular parameters.’

She was thinking she had entered a nightmarish twilight zone, when they walked into what looked like a typical doctor’s office. On the one side an examination table and on the other what seemed to be sophisticated scanner.

“Before the Doctor get here, we need to take a couple of scans. As a record of your physical wellbeing.” Jamie smiled encouragingly, indicating the scanner. “Please stand there. Hands behind your back. Look at the dot up here.”

Moona did as she was asked, thinking it was a strange scanning pose, but complying with the older woman’s instruction. A flash, a whir and a click. A full-length image of her appeared on the scan monitor.

“Please remove your shirt and skirt. Hang them there.” Indicating a hook to one side. When Moona hesitated, Jamie snapped. “Come on. We haven’t got all day. This is for your health baseline. So, we can monitor changes on a quarterly basis and act pre-emptively when necessary. It’s really for your own good.”

Al reinforced with. ‘It is a non-invasive internal tissue scan. Part of their health insurance and wellness management programme. Without it you are not covered.’

All very well for you to say Al. Non-invasive. . .It’s totally invasive, of my privacy and . . . But she complied again, until she was standing in her underwear, blushing red with her hands behind her back as instructed.  She felt her breasts push forward in this position but tried not to think about it too much. Just concentrating on the dot. Flash, whir and click.

A full-length image of her in her bra, panties, stockings and heels appeared, together with an internal X-ray looking image with different colours highlighting her organs, flesh and bone.  That just made her blush even more, because she looked like a lingerie model, or maybe even a hooker in her sexy attire.

“Turn around. We need one from behind. Hands on your hips. And look over your shoulder, so we can see it’s you.” Why would they want this? Was this right? Or even legal?

‘Calm down. Your bios are elevating again. It is a common health baseline procedure. It will soon be over.’ Al’s emotionless tone belying the turmoil in her mind. But she turned around anyway. To her shame, the image that appeared looked coquettish and sensual, not at all medical. Her thong, stockings and heels, making her legs taut and emphasising her rounded backside.

“Last one.” Jamie acting professional and unphased by her embarrassment. “Face forward. Hands behind your neck and feet shoulder width apart.”

She’d become used to complying with the HR woman by this stage and took the position, hesitantly and with a worried expression.  An enticing image of a reluctant woman displaying herself for the camera was indelibly captured and displayed on the scan monitor, alongside the medical version.

“Please sit down on the table. Doctor will be with you shortly.” And with that, Jamie left the room. Leaving Moona to her humiliation and anxiety about what else to expect from her new job at DT.

Another perfect chapter that fully details the security measures that DT has in the future!. Why do I get the feeling that they can and will simply take her off line and do whatever they want with her until the school debt is paid then use her to make DT's executives lives better! Merit when i can!

What a start and didnt expect an entry here. It is a slow forum but like supernatural it can be very exciting as you’ve demonstrated here
Great to see a future based DT story and see there are still a force to be reckoned With
Wonderful and captivating backstory that feeds my senses for reading and gets me well in with the plot

Moona is an interesting character and can only wonder what more you have in store for her
Am intrusive exam but you’ve opened my mind to this
Excellent start and accept a merit from me xxx

[Seeker]

I appreciate the support Graham and Jessica. I know this is a slower forum, but I'm having fun with the character and the universe, which I feel is not so dystopian as it may seem. . .

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Chapter 3

Moona was perched on the examination table, knees pressed tightly together with her hands demurely in her lap, when Dr Strent strode into the room.  He was an older white-haired man in a white medical coat with a rotund compassionate face.  Despite his stern expression, she thought he looked like one would have expected an affable GP to appear, in the old days before GP Algorithms made them all but obsolete.

“Morning, my dear.” A kindly voice. “I believe you’ve just joined us. . . Welcome.” A sober smile. “We’ve just got to do a couple of additional checks as part of your induction and then you’ll be on your way.”

“Umm. . . Is all of this really necessary? I’ve recently had my annual health check, and everything was fine.” Moona asked apprehensively, feeling very exposed and uncomfortable, sitting in her revealing underwear in front of this older man.  All health check-ups were done by Algorithm and scanner, not by live doctors. This was very unusual.

“This is how we do things here.” His voice taking on a hard, uncompromising tone. “You’re not going to cause any problems. Are you?”

Al’s voice in her head telling her. ‘This is DT protocol. It is routine. You must comply.’ A strange use of word by Al. ‘It is for the job you have always wanted. They do not tolerate unnecessary dissent.’

“No. Sorry, Sir. I was just wondering.” Moona desperately backpedalling. Hoping the sign of respect would assuage his irritation.

“Good.” His smile neutral, now standing in front of her, pulling on surgical gloves.  Taking her face in both hands, turning her head from side to side, he murmured so she could hardly hear. “Hmm. . . Very pretty. . . Ear piercing. . . No blemishes. . . No augmentation necessary.”

“Sorry, Doctor. Did you say something?”

“Quiet, girl.” Growling, looking her in the eyes with a forbidding expression. “I’ll ask if I want to know anything.” Releasing her face. “Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”

Not wanting to incur the wrath of this seemingly difficult doctor, Moona did as she was told. Dr Strent probed around her teeth, rubbing his finger over her tongue as if looking for something.  “Say Ahhh.” He instructed before sticking two fingers towards the back of her throat.  Moona gagged and instinctively pulled her head away, her eyes tearing. 

“I realise that was unexpected and uncomfortable. But you really must hold still during the examination.” Not explaining what he was doing, just calmly continuing “Please lie down.” Pushing down on her sternum and putting a pillow under her head as she swivelled onto the table, legs akimbo for a second. That embarrassed her and she quickly clenched them together in two straight prone lines.

He pulled out a stethoscope pad that was synched to Alpha.  Moving it around her chest he commanded “Breathe deeply. . .” And then “Again. . .Hmm.” As if he had found some anomaly, which unsettled Moona, considerably. What could it be? Was there a problem? She’d never had anything to worry about before.

He carelessly shifted her sexy bra up towards her throat to expose her breasts. Circling her beautiful firm orbs, before sliding the instrument to the centre and pressing the stethoscope onto the tip of her nipple, hard and with intent. It felt strange, the cool metal almost bisecting her tender nip

“Lungs clear. . . Heart fine. . .” Muttering again.

“Excuse m….” She began before he interrupted her.

“Hold still. I need to check your reflex again.” Casually cupping her chin with his palm and plunging two fingers back into her mouth, causing her to retch again.  He held the stethoscope on her chest, looking quizzically down at her, as if intently monitoring the sound of her gagging and heaving from inside he chest.

“Ghk. .  ho. . . heeze.” A couple of tears dripped down her cheeks as the doctor explored the back of her throat, while continuing to press and maul her breasts with his stethoscope.

“Adequate saliva. . . strong gag reflex. . . good response.” He mused, as if making notes. Suddenly withdrawing his fingers.

Coughing and spluttering, Moona looked at him distraught through tear-filled horrified eyes. All she could muster was a wheezing “What? . . . Why? . . .”

‘Calm down. Breathe. That test is complete.’ Al’s implacable voice.

Test. What test? That wasn’t a test. It was abuse. She started to sit up. She’d tell. . .

She didn’t have time to think about who she’d tell what, because suddenly a sound echoed inside her head. Loud and disconcerting like a ringing in her ears.  Not painful, but only just not so. She could hardly think, let alone talk. It was a weird mashup of Mozart violins and cats howling.

‘Two more tests to complete and then it will be finished.’ She could hardly comprehend Al’s voice through the sound. More tests? What sort of tests? If that last one was anything to go by. . .

She blinked, staring vacantly at the doctor. Shoulders falling back down onto the table. All of her focus and attention on the sound in her ears. Or was it in her head? What was it? A quiet moan was all that betrayed the deluge of sound and the turmoil in her brain “Please. . . stop. . .”

Dr Strent seemed oblivious to her distress. Or if not ignorant, he ignored it. Preferring to take his saliva-covered latex fingers and circle her rigid nipples. Moistening the areolae, causing the small glands to raise in appreciation. Or fear and humiliation.  Her nipples hardening even more into erect spikes, jutting proudly upwards for his attention.

“Erect. . . responsive. . . hardening. . . tactile.” He droned on, pinching the engorged nubs.

Pocketing the stethoscope, he possessively started playing with her generous globes, massaging and squeezing them, as if testing their sponginess and resilience.

She couldn’t prevent the pleasurable sensations he was causing with his firm manipulation of her tender flesh, occasionally flicking a finger or thumb over her sensitive nipple, blood red and erect with the attention.

“Firm. . . no lumps. . . good size.” He mumbled as he absentmindedly groped her intimate mounds.

The sound seemed to paralyse her. While she felt that she would be able to move if she wanted to, the pitch was so piercing and all-encompassing that she didn’t do anything other than to lie there, seemingly immobilised.

As he enjoyed the ‘breast testing’ his right hand slid down her torso towards her crotch. Everything in her psyche wanted to scream, to get up and walk away.  But she lay there compliant under the sway of the ringing in her head. His hand slipped into her panties, over her mound and along her slit. Almost analytically as if this was a medical exam. Which theoretically it was, but it didn’t feel like that in practice.

Then a finger slid into her vagina, probing and moving around as if examining her insides. Dr Strent’s face followed his hand, almost professionally, looking at the finger dividing her labia and violating her hole, as if examining her. . . But his grin betrayed his intent, as his fingers probing her twat like it was entirely permissible for his own gratification in this dystopian world.

Moona just lay there compliant, tolerating the abuse due to the cacophony in her brain, over which she had no control. Neither did she have any control over the natural response of her body, the tingling in her pussy and the shivers from her nipples as he expertly manipulated them.  She felt herself get wet and her nipples harden, an involuntary gasp escaping from her slack mouth.

‘Receptive. . . tight. . . wet. . . sexual.” His damn mumbling while he did these intolerable things to her, like an old hobo talking to himself.

And then suddenly, the sound in her head ceased. . .

He stood up and meticulously readjusted her underwear as if nothing had happened. As if this whole ordeal was the most normal thing in the world. Even though every fibre of her being shook and cringed and flushed at the outrage that had been imposed on her body, and on her mind.

Standing back, nonchalantly smelling the glove clad fingers that had been inside her as if he were sniffing a fine cigar, looking down at her with a sardonic smile.  That casual act made her blush crimson, the shame flooding her being, despite everything else he had done.

“Thank you. That’s all.” Without a shadow of. . . What did she expect?  Sympathy, compassion, discomfort, disquiet? “You can get dressed.  Jamie will be back soon to continue your induction.” Nothing but entitlement. . .

And then almost happily to himself. “A delightful new company asset. . . Examination complete.”

Nothing like being obedient for a complete exam! proving that she has what it takes to make a good DT employee! Can't wait until she meets her new boss with an attitude like hers. Merit earned

Is this my birthday or Christmas, a new chapter from seeker and gaggedkitty on the same evening. I feel thoroughly humbled by reading such first class material.

Well as Carhamgrater says you can’t get much more dirty that an examination going wrong or good depending on what you want!
Loved it started quite professionally and then got so Sordid pretty quickly. And we just saw a breast exam.
Like how she reacted and what comes next, an asset indeed
You don’t have to be a Sci-Fi fan to enjoy this, your works and world are for those who enjoy deep, erotic writing. I encourage all to read and enjoy this work
Merit of course xx

[Seeker]

I appreciate the encouragement chg, Shocker and Jessica. Thank you. This part moves us a bit forward in the tale around Moona.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Chapter 4

Stephi stood demurely by the door to the boardroom, face expressionless and eyes downcast.  Her hands were clasped discretely behind her back, shoulders straight and breasts straining against her blouse.  She stood patiently in total silence, despite the animated discussion taking place at the table a couple of metres away.

Waiting for any instruction to serve. Knowing that even a slight careless movement or upward glance would bring censure. Accepting the worthlessness and irrelevance that Alpha’s noise-cancelling capabilities and close surveillance imposed on her psyche as she was casually isolated and excluded from everything around her.

She had not always been so patient, so compliant, nor so attentive to the needs of her bosses.  When she’d first joined DT as a young professional in marketing two years before, she used to have dreams and ambition. She seriously believed that with hard work and intelligence she would be recognised and rewarded. That she was destined to be someone important.

But it did not take long for her to understand the way things were.  That becoming a senior marketing manager was not to be her lot in life. Like most other young women in DT, her life was to take a different turn.  She was recognised by Kane and rewarded with an offer she could not refuse. To be his PA, with the emphasis on personal.

At first, she had resisted, but with Alpha’s help and Kane’s training, she had been persuaded that there was no alternative. Or rather that the alternative was not worth contemplating.  And since succumbing to the pressure, she had learned many new talents and had a countless array of experiences, albeit not what she had originally signed up for.

She had initially struggled and resented every new skill, every required behaviour and every imposed indignity. But she had eventually been brought into line and perfected them all, through a combination of reward and punishment, until now she accepted everything with resignation. Or more accurately with faked enthusiasm, as was required by her boss.

At least he was relatively fair and reasonably considerate, in comparison to some of the other executives. She had come to admit that life could be worse for a girl in DT.  Sometimes he even allowed or invited her to voice opinions or to use her brain to solve a problem.  Always in private, but that was better than the conditions imposed on some of her colleagues.  Recalling what she had seen and heard other girls having to do to survive at the hands of their bosses, she gave an imperceptible shiver of revulsion.  And with that she acknowledged to herself that being Kane’s executive plaything and eye-candy wasn’t actually so bad.

‘Three coffees. A latte and two flat whites.’ Alpha’s measured words suddenly echoed through the enforced silence in her head, the instruction loud and clear.

Galvanised to action, Stephi glided over to the coffee machine, swaying her tight skirt-encased hips attractively, in case one of the men at the table was watching. Making the coffees with studious precision and then placing them on the tray, carefully so as not to make any distracting noise, despite not being able to hear if she did.

In the early days, Alpha would continually guide and correct her.  Comments and commands dropped into her silent consciousness, as if they were her own thoughts.  By now she was proficient at most tasks, so Alpha seldom needed to correct her anymore. Kane demanded perfection in all she did, and she had no interest in failing him in front of the other executives sitting around the table.  The consequences later would be unpleasant to say the least. Her concentration and attention to detail therefore matched his expectations.

These days Alpha only gave instructions, like he did then. ‘Mr Aiden would like one sugar.’  That was uncharacteristic of the DT Executive Chair, meaning that he was in a bad mood. It also implied she had better be even more submissive and flawless to avoid attracting his wrath.

She cautiously approached the three men sitting at the table, out of the corner of her eye noting the four holographic images of the other DT executives dialling in virtually.  Having performed this service countless times, she knew Kane had the latte and as her boss would usually serve him first. But not today. . .

Alpha confirmed her intuition. ‘Start with Mr Aiden. . . Smile. . . Posture.’

Balancing the tray on her left hand, crossing her legs appealingly and bending enticingly at the waist to emphasise her posture, she picked up the saucer, placed it carefully at his right hand, while glancing at him demurely with a polite smile.  He wasn’t looking at her, but rather was scowling at her boss.  His left hand was draped in his lap, or rather in the head of blue hair covering his dark suit trousers.

She knew not to look or acknowledge the flash of movement down there, nor even think about it, preferring to move away and on to serve her boss.  Again, she presented herself pleasingly, bending from the hips, legs straight and poised, submissive smile and a quick glance in case he wanted something else. His imperceptible wink as he looked at her with his hand briefly sliding comfortingly up her stocking clad thigh, was all she needed to know that she had done alright.

She placed the final coffee beside a distracted and flustered looking man, who she knew as Oscar, the Head of Corporate.  She then thankfully withdrew, to stand unobtrusively at her post Waiting patiently in her imposed silence, with only her own thoughts revolving around her head.

As the men continued with their meeting.

Eventually ambient sound rushed into her head, like a wave washing over her. Initially confusing, but then normalising as she heard Kane’s voice.

“Great work, Oscar. I particularly liked your perspective on our corporate strategy in the face of these virtual pandemics threatening the Algorithms.”

“Thank you, Kane.” The slightly nasal wheedling voice floated into her consciousness. The tone matching the pudgy body and soft round face of the Head of Corporate.

Hearing again was her cue and she raised her eyes to see Kane stand as he glanced toward the Chair with a disapproving frown.  Aiden took a little longer to stand, ignoring the other man while seeming somewhat distracted, before letting out a deep sigh, licking his lips and looking around as if focusing on the room anew.  His hand emerged from his lap as he took a last pleasurable swig of his coffee, smiled contentedly, paused for a moment more, and then slid his chair back to stand up, as if nothing untoward had happened.

That was until a slightly dishevelled blue-haired woman crawled out from under the table, taking Aiden’s hand to help her stand.  She was dressed in a tight-fitting high-necked sweater accentuating her perky breasts, extremely short blue plaid skirt accentuating her generous hips, fishnet stockings and sky-blue heels to match her hair.  She made a show of daintily wiping the corner of her mouth, before subtly turning and reapplying her lip gloss, all the while gazing coquettishly at Aiden.  He on the other hand ignored her, rather turning to talk to the other two men.

“Aiden, we’re facing a crisis. You really need to stay focused and leave the toys for later.” Kane said with a slight admonishing tone in his voice and a pointed look at the woman who had emerged from under the table. “There were a few moments today when I had to step in for you. You seemed somewhat distracted.”

Stephi felt emboldened by her boss’ comment and looked at the other woman with poorly masked distain and a hint of pity.  The former because she was just such a slag and the latter because she was Sir Aiden’s PA.

“That’s what you are here for, dear boy.” The older man’s gravelly voice, supremely confident, unconcerned and mildly amused.  His sliver white hair contrasting against dark complexion, giving him the devil-may-care roguish look that he intentionally cultivated and used to great advantage. “I’ve done my time and will enjoy the perks when and how I like.” A low chuckle from deep in his slightly portly belly.

Blue stared back at Stephi with a blistering look, no love lost between the two PAs. Stephi wasn’t the one who had to answer to the colour of her hair, not her given name Jaqui, on pain of Alpha reporting her and punishing her. 

Blue was the one who had to spend the entire meeting suffering the impenetrable silence under the table, sucking diligently on the huge slab of meat and swallowing copious quantities of his seed.  Pretending to not want to be doing anything other than taking his prick down her throat, so deep that it hurt.  Resulting in her only being able to talk in a hoarse whisper for the next while.

Managing to perform the act without gagging and retching, due to hours and hours of practice on her knees and in front of her mirror.  Perfecting her doe eyes, her tongue and lip movements and her swallowing technique on the nine-inch monster replica of her boss’ cock.

How dare the bitch judge her? The little upstart, acting all prim and prissy with her retro secretary look.  She wasn’t any better, because she also spent half the day on her knees in front of her boss.  It was only that Kane was suaver and more discrete about it.

The men were leaving the room, so the PAs had to put their petty squabbles and acid looks aside to follow their bosses.

“Oh Oscar. I believe you have a new recruit joining today. Gorgeous little thing according to her profile.”

“Yes.” Oscar replied with a grin. “What about her?”

“I have a gap this afternoon at 4. Send her up to meet me. I’d like to induct her myself on executive expectations.”

“Sure Kane. Just leave something for me when you’re done.” Oscar shuffled off with a chuckle.

Neither Stephi nor Blue reacted outwardly to the exchange, but each thought back with disquiet to her own difficult process of induction.

Nobody has better PA than the executives at DT. Great work as always.

Well no one ever say how far apart the rungs of advancement were on a corporate ladder were! A blowjob here, a screw job there might just be enough to get one foot midway to the next rung! They should all be thankful that they are allowed to be in the presence of people, I'm sure they are worst places to be! Merit earned!

Nothing like an office rivalry between two power hungry PA’s among hungry for other things
This world and story are magnificent and once again a great chapter that adds more to the deep plot lines
Love the descriptions and want to know more about Alpha and Kane. I like powerful men!
So a new recruit and how will Blue and Stephi react to this. We all know what DT PA’s must endure! So this will get interesting.
Love it! Merit awarded xx

[Seeker]

Chapter 5

The two men had just completed their lunch in the Executive Dining room, during which they had continued their ongoing discussion about the state of the company, the current financials and the political manifestos being touted by the various political groupings that they were supporting.  The latter having some bearing on the planned general election that would be held and the approach the sophisticated Algorithms would take to influence voter choice.

The Data Sharing Agreement of 2032 between the major Tech Corporations had defined the new operating modalities and specified clearly defined boundaries for the companies with limited competition in their established markets.  There was intense rivalry and incursions by start-ups in new technologies, but these too were largely dominated by the big players, with smaller companies being bought out before they could make too great a mark.

The equity gap just had got bigger and bigger, because with the ability to sub-consciously influence populations these oligarchs created the discourse. And they determined the mass response of the voting public who had increasingly become dependent upon the Algorithms to make decisions.  This understanding combined with similar triggers, threats, coercion and bribery of politicians ensured politics was controlled, all while espousing the strengthening of free will and personal choice.

As they walked into Aiden’s large corner office Kane was chuckling at the irony of the purported differences between the political parties, when they were actually quite marginal and largely irrelevant.  Both of them knew that the Algorithms would determine the outcome of the election, and in terms of economic and social policy, it would serve the interests of the elites and the large Tech companies.

“Much like our pretty obedient little assistants.” Aiden smirked.

Stephi and Blue were standing quietly beside opposing couches, facing each other across a low wooden coffee table, espressos already prepared and waiting in their hands at Alpha’s instruction. Kane reclined beside Stephi, leaving her to hold the saucer as he took a sip from the cup, before returning it for her to hold like a piece of living furniture.

“True. But you don’t seem to use Alpha much to ensure her compliance.” Kane responded, watching Blue as she dropped gracefully to her knees beside Aiden, as expected when he had flopped onto the other couch coffee in hand. She knelt there, knees a foot apart, sitting on her heels with her hands clasped in the small of her back, looking more like a slave girl than a PA.

Aiden ran his hand possessively through her hair as he replied, a grin breaking his stern features. “I guess I’m just old school. There’s nothing more enjoyable than physically disciplining a young female to ensure her enthusiastic obedience or punish any resistance. To slowly break them down purely using good old-fashioned pain and threats. I love watching the resistance slowly extinguish from their eyes with the repetitive use of carrot and stick. And then to rebuild them to suit my preferences.” His fist gripped her blue hair and turned her face towards his. “Very effective. Isn’t it, my girl?”

“Yes. Sir. I live to serve. And to please.” Her smile was clearly forced, and the words instructed, but she tried to put as much eagerness into her voice as she could. It was only her eyes that betrayed her anxiety, staring pleadingly up at Aiden. Hoping that she had performed to his expectations.

“Why don’t we show Kane the consequence of your last indiscretion?” He twisted her around on her knees, so that she faced away from them and indiscreetly pulled the hem of her skirt up to her waist.  Her pantiless backside framed by black garter straps and fishnet stockings, was covered in fading welts from an extended session of corporate corporal punishment. “Tell us what you learned from your correction, Blue.”

Looking at them over her shoulder, face flushed with embarrassment at her exposure, she whispered. “I must always be perfect for my boss.” Then a contrite expression pasted on her face. “I spilled your drink because I was not paying attention.” Finally, she declared louder and with more conviction. “Mistakes are not acceptable in a personal. . .”

“And the fact that I slapped your arse is no excuse.” Aiden interrupted her with a sadistic sneer and a slap on her tender backside, extracting a quiet sigh from the kneeling woman. “I knew she was pouting, even though she hid it. I made her entertain me with one of the new interns. As if the girl was beneath her. . . Need to keep them on a short leash, otherwise they’ll think you’re soft. Isn’t that right, Blue?”

“Yes, Sir. I deserved everything I got, Sir.”  Her face a picture of determination overlain on her suppressed misery.

He then pulled her back around, her skirt still hitched up around her waist presenting her exposed crotch to the room, with its neatly trimmed strip of blue hair.

Turning to Kane he said with a self-assured chuckle. “My tastes in female subjugation were formed in the days before this new technology, when DevTech used more traditional means.  Now days, girls are so sheltered and naïve to the ways of the world, that a little harsh encouragement goes a long way.”  He then concluding with a wry smile. “Although Alpha definitely has its place in ensuring the discretion, security and capability of our playthings.”

Looking back down at the imperceptibly trembling woman kneeling next to him Aiden smirked. “In fact, I’d bet that Alpha told her how to respond in the last few minutes. . . Am I right?” And then before she could respond he added condescendingly. “Or did you come up with those words all by yourself, my dear?”

She nodded, simpering softly. “Yes, Sir. Alpha helped me.”

The reality was that Alpha had orchestrated her entire reaction, providing her script, instructing her behaviour and guiding her expression.  She hated that she listened, not just because she had to, but because she knew that the Algorithm would guide her better than she would herself. Alpha wouldn’t be influenced by her emotions, her fear and her shame.

So, she followed the instructions as best she could, while humiliation and anxiety flooded her body.  At times she wished that Alpha would just turn off her emotions, rather than exacerbate them with the feelings of helpless engendered by obeying a machine.

“Our girls need a strong guiding hand to teach them to be better, more compliant and more accomplished.” He released Blue’s hair and patted her head. “I like to take a more active role in that instruction, but then again I have more time now as Chair. I’m sure Blue appreciates the attention she gets from me.” He said rhetorically.  A brief flash of panic clouded her eyes at the mention of her name, before Alpha sagely told her not to respond but rather to ‘smile encouragingly’ and ‘nod in agreement’.

“You tech-savvy guys let Alpha do all the hard work.” He teased Kane, who had been watching the entire spectacle with an inscrutable expression, before concluding magnanimously. “But then, you have a lot on your plates and so little time. . .”

He left the sentence hanging, with the obvious inuendo that the younger generation hadn’t come through the ranks in the tough old days, when men needed to be men and didn’t have access to all this technology to get things done.  Kane had heard it all before and chose not to rise to the bait.  Rather he enjoyed sparring with his older mentor and decided to push back on the subtleties of using Alpha.

“You’re half right as usual, you old goat. There are those that use Alpha’s brute force to ensure compliance, a little bit like your paddle.” Kane’s playful smile diffused any perceived insult at his words.

“But I like to use Alpha in more cerebral and sophisticated ways. By creating cognitive dissonance in a young female who is experiencing actions that she thinks contradict her beliefs or sense of herself.” As he said this, his hand drifted up Stephi’s stocking clad thigh and under her short skirt, with no apparent response from the woman standing demurely beside his couch.

“With Stephi, Alpha and I help her reconcile this seeming contradiction by changing her ideas and values to become more aligned with those I expect from her and the functions she is required to perform.”  He spoke as is the female object of his philosophy was not standing beside him, while she gave no indication that she saw anything remotely inappropriate in his discourse.

“Using a female’s own emotional makeup, her decision making and her dependence on the Algorithm against her, makes their subjugation so much sweeter.” Kane’s passion for the subject was clear from the sparkle in his eye. “It’s sublime to watch as they rewire their own world view to accommodate the decisions they’re being forced to make and the things they’re being forced to do.”

On her part, Stephi listened attentively.  Acquiescent, knowing that everything he said was true. She had originally been put in very difficult situations, first groped and soon thereafter forced into sexual activities that she didn’t want and would never have freely considered. But it was also made clear that she couldn’t leave DT, unless she wanted to become redundant, irrelevant and possibly. . .

She had come to see that the threat of non-compliance was so abhorrent, so final, so systemic, that she couldn’t even contemplate the alternative. So, she accommodated Kane, despite the revulsion at what she was forced to do. She had hated him, the company and the system.  But grew to despise herself even more for her weakness and the way he made her body feel.  Because Kane knew how to arouse her, through her natural response and her shame.

Over time, Alpha explained to her that she had no alternative and that this wasn’t so bad. This was to be her lot in life, so she should make the most of it. Others had it much worse.  She was a gorgeous woman, who men would obviously want to enjoy. It was actually a compliment and it was her role as a personal assistant to provide for all the personal needs of her boss. He had chosen her, so she was dutybound to serve.

Eventually she realised that it was the only way to survive. Not that she embraced it all, but enough to accept and comply. She had come to appreciate Kane and DT for what she had. Hate was gradually transformed into loyalty. But she could never overcome the shame at her own betrayal, a trait that Kane subtly encouraged and exploited.

“Not so Stephi?” He chuckled as he thrust his hand up between her legs.

She didn’t flinch, but rather smiled encouragingly while blushing modestly, shifting her feet to allow him unfettered access.  She responded without a hint of irony. “Absolutely, Sir. I appreciate all the guidance you and Alpha have given me to become the best assistant I can be.”

“Well said.” Aiden had clearly enjoyed the exchange, but it was not apparent whether he was referring to Kane’s thoughts or Stephi’s response. “I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree. Vive la difference!” He saluted with his espresso.

“I think a contest is in order, to see which approach creates greater discipline.” Aiden proposed as if he had just had a brilliant idea, despite everyone in the room knowing how this event was going to proceed, based on their own distinct perspective and through their own diverse experience. “Blue and Stephi will 69 each other for our entertainment and to demonstrate their commitment to their boss’ approach.” His voice had a grim tone. “The winner is the one to make the other cum first.”

The two women glanced at each other, animosity, apprehension and anxiety being suppressed by their determined expressions.  They looked at Kane to see his response.

“As long as they can use every advantage, including guidance from Alpha.” Kane accepted the competition, face deadpan as he held Aiden’s gaze, before grinning as if relishing a private joke. “And like a boxing match, each round is three minutes with a thirty second break. They must alternate who is on top, so that there is no advantage.”  He pulled his hand down from under Stephi’s skirt, dragging her thong to pool around her ankles.

“Agreed.” Aidan beamed. “Stephi you start underneath. No need to undress, just pull your skirt up like Blue.” She shimmied her skirt up her legs, but he impatiently growled “Hurry up, girl. We haven’t got all day. Council starts in thirty minutes and one of you had better have won by then.”