A Sissy in the 22nd Century Pt. 07

Preface

In a future not too far flung, humanity has progressed to a stage where almost all production and provision of society's needs is automated. With no need to work, all citizens are instead driven to find lifestyles that fulfil their own and each other's fundamental desires. This is achieved through the medium of an overruling system of artificial intelligences and mathematical algorithms which record vast amounts of data about each individual from the moment they are born; working out precisely where they will most comfortably fit into the lives of everyone else.

Medical science has also made great leaps, to the degree in which the Grand Algorithm can manipulate hormone provision and expression in all those under its control... Shaping their bodies and minds to perfectly fit the role it determines they are destined to fill. Citizens age slowly and rarely suffer any sort of malady, with immortality being considered a very real possibility in the next decade or so. Ideas like gender division are considered childish and old fashioned, with what genitalia and pronouns an individual uses dependant more on the lifestyle they lead than whatever was attached when they were born.

There are still inequalities and divisions within society though. Having emerged from the cocoon of free market capitalism, society is still very much tiered by class and overshadowed by corporate elitism... with the commodities sold simply having changed entirely toward 'entertainment' in one fashion or another. The rich are seemingly deemed fit to stay so by the Algorithm, the middle classes content enough to spend their entire lives devoted to any perversion that might take their fancy. This self-centred outlook leaves little interest in raising a family, so any children they do produce are generally given over to group 'Homes' wherein they are looked after and raised by those who have been determined to actually enjoy parenting. These young men and women are, of course, then sorted into roles that provide for their progenitors desires... thus continuing the cycle.

Six months have passed since Jesse was first assigned his role-for-life to be a 'Sissy Slutwife' existing only to serve at the pleasures of others. His classes of how to be the perfect human sextoy continue apace. He himself is almost surprised how quickly he has grown used to this lifestyle, recognising the changes in perspective such continuous servitude are bringing him. Yet within that there is a growing sense of comfort and confidence: it's just like Betsy always said... the Grand Algorithm finds everyone their true purpose. His best friend herself however... is finding life a little tougher. Impregnated by an unknown father and now with little else expected of her, can she really stand to just sit around waiting for the baby to arrive and then be taken away? Read on to find out...

This story is a work of submissive erotic fiction and as such touches on subjects that some may find offensive, including but not limited to: homosexuality, feminization, sexual abuse, sexual slavery, grey-area consent and abuse of power.

All characters are over the age of 18 and unrelated. Their consent for all sexual acts is assumed, but not always explicitly stated. The author does not support any real world examples of any of the behaviour or ideologies represented within.

This is a piece of erotic entertainment aimed at those who wish to enjoy the fantasy of submission, not encouragement for those who seek to oppress others.

Chapter 1: Another Sissy Schoolday

Jesse walked through the crisp, chill air away from the maglev station. His heels clicking along the sidewalk in a staggered, comforting rhythm. He could now tell just by the sound: whether he was properly strutting his assets as he'd been so painstakingly taught. This chunk of town no longer held much fear for him at all... He'd been ushered into the alleys on either side by eager clients several times, but had barely caught a glimpse of any gang of Dropouts. He wondered if the ones who had ambushed him had all been rounded up by Corpo security after stealing that flexitab. A surprising pang of pity welled up in him at the thought. They had all looked so ragged and desperate. Perhaps masturbating over his prostrate and endlessly-orgasming body had been the last pleasurable experience they'd had, before being locked away or mind-wiped? Now he was more accustomed to seeing himself as just a tool for others' enjoyment, it hardly seemed like such a harrowing ordeal.

Up ahead, a familiar car came into view. Parked where it often was, just a little way up from the school. The sissy sidled up and knocked politely on the back window, knowing exactly what he'd see inside...

Suzy unlocked and pushed open the door, stretching up from his kneeling-forward position. This was by far the most common position Jesse encountered his erstwhile femboyfriend in these days. Starting the day as it was likely to go on: on all fours and being pistoned in and out of by a good, thick cock. The Home-raised slutwife got the distinct impression that his large-breasted lover was feeling a little abandoned by 'Daddy', who seemed to be away on business a lot these days. Leading to Suzy exploring his relationships with the paid staff a lot more... A human fucktoy used to being played with constantly could end up feeling a little lost and lonely with empty hours in a gaping mansion on their hands, after all. Jesse leaned in to offer a long kiss hello, and could feel through that tangle of tongues how much the other sissy was enjoying those backseat invasions.

Once the driver had finished inside what was technically his ward and somewhat employer, the two little schoolboys got on their way to class. Suzy did his best to clean up before staining those pure-white legwarmers... but at the end of the day; a few cummy dribbles down the back of the thighs was going to be near inevitable. At least they had openings to allow for easy access where it was most definitely needed, else they'd all end up sat on damp, sticky cotton half the day. The two sissies hurried along, hand-in-hand. Not wanting to earn an early spanking for being late, but also savouring this little time they got to be alone together.

Jesse still wasn't quite sure what to describe the relationship which had grown between the two of them. They were both fundamentally just current property of Madame Stanfield's Academy after all, pending graduation to a life almost certainly apart. Yet, all their fellow classmates knew: whosoever wanted to share a little study-session with Jesse, had to check that Suzy hadn't called dibs first. It made the slightly-more submissive of the couple feel strangely warm inside... Like he'd found his own version of the 'Daddy' which his partner-without-panties still held as the unshakable symbol of all that was right in the world. Every day he grew a little more attached and respectful of his feisty, honest and passionate lover. There was a certain tightness in his chest whenever the blonde femboy jumped to his defence after he made mistakes; preferring they both be punished together, whenever it was inevitably going to happen. And, of course, Jesse had been penetrated by a whole range of differing penises by now, including every other one available in their class. But the one that had taken his virginity still filled a special place in his rectum. It was his favourite fleshy spear to be invaded by... and he made sure it was inside of him as often as he could.

Chapter 2: Stepping into a shadow

As they entered the school, Suzy and Jesse were greeted with the usual before-class madness. Sluts-in-training scurrying here and there as they caught up with friends or tried desperately to fix their makeup after being roughly utilised by a client or two during their commute. A new class of winter-term freshman had arrived a week or so ago, leaving the six-month seniors with the strange experience of not being the newest arrivals anymore. They watched the timid and stumbling creatures they had been just a short while ago; staring out from wide, red eyes and fretting over every little reddening their perky, young bottoms received. It seemed both an absolute age and no time at all since they had been in those same, blocky heels. So many humiliating trials and debasing situations lay behind them in a gap from then to now... but there still seemed so much left to learn. The summer slutwives were certainly not up to the majestic level of those real seniors yet. The perfect specimens of obedience that they all secretly wished they could emulate. It seemed a call to dig deep into their studies: being able to see just how far they'd come... and just how far was left to go. A strange incentive to bend over properly, and show these newcomers how a real fucktoy grovelled.

Approaching their own lockers, the two sissies met Binita and Lizzy having a quickie against the wall. The golden-skinned hermaphrodite had sort of been absorbed into their core friend group by now... though she was still often at odds with Suzy. The two full-females seemed to appreciate having another cock to practise with, however. Seeing as how often the original two were more tangled up with each other. Binita was an ever-eager provider of penetrations, the rarer brand of human sex-toy around here. The Algorithm seemed to have decided that she would be served best with a nigh-constant erection and barely-restrainable itch to shove it into every opening she could.

"I bet she's being prepped for some awful, dominatrix mistress. Who wants to keep her half-mad with teasing but barely ever let her actually fuck anything."

Had been Franceska's evaluation. The girl's almost spooky ability to always figure out the worst possible... and therefore probably true... workings of their customer's minds seeming plausible once again. Her unfailingly detached insight being something her classmates had come to respect and rely upon. If you were struggling to work out the specific kink to get an awkward client off; Fran usually had the answer. They were all working out each other's strengths and weaknesses when it came to servicing others. Learning from each other and lending a hand... or mouth, or hole, wherever it was needed. Determined to make their teachers, and oh-so intimidating headmistress, proud of the dedicated, little sluts they were becoming.

The newly arrived sissies said hello to their interlocked classmates with two deep and probing kisses, but didn't have time to join in further. First period today was a one-to-one tutor session, with their individually-assigned seniors. Jesse was forced to watch again as his dear Suzy was grabbed and dragged off by a souffle of lace and thrills: The terrifying creature they had met beneath the skirts of on that very first day. His lover didn't like to speak much of what transpired while he was under the wing of that particularly frilly peacock, but it was clear the sessions were more than a little harrowing. In the depths of his heart Jesse feared the school and Algorithm had recognised that spark of fierce pride and individuality that he loved about the femboy so much... and were seeking to stamp it out. It seemed insane that anyone would want to dampen the loyal passion with which that beautiful being still loved and obeyed his Daddy. Yet, secretly, he could also not deny the times where he had seen that same jealousy and devotion hamper his progress towards being a perfect plaything. It felt a little like betrayal, just to admit that.

Especially since his own provided mentor could not have made Jesse happier: Selene, the third year sissy who had entranced him from the moment he'd first laid eyes upon those long, long legs and spindle-thin frame. He saw that vision approaching now, slipping gracefully between the tangle of scurrying teens and looking like he was headed for the catwalk even in skinny-jeans and a crop-top. He beckoned with a slender, porcelain finger. Calling out across the crowd:

"Come on then, Rosy-Cheeks. I wouldn't bother getting changed into uniform... we're going to be in and out of outfits for the next few hours anyway."

Jesse blushed as usual. The unshakeable habit of a lifetime that had already earned him said term of endearment. He hurried over to catch up with this muse of pure perfection, barely coming up to the other femboy's belly-button due to the ridiculous, pencil-thin heels he wore. The sway of those hips could lead him to the ends of the earth, if the Home-raised sissy thought he could ever approach such effeminate beauty. It was like clambering up the stairs after humanity's final ascension. The form that surely God had first intended, before every other tracing fell short and kind of stumpy.

Chapter 3: What to give the camera?

"Okay honey, strip down and slip into this..."

The pieces of loose fabric that Selene was holding out didn't look like enough to form a single item of clothing, not to mention a full outfit. It fluttered in the slightest breeze, like a handful of mist within the slender third-year's delicate grip. Jesse couldn't exactly work out how or where he was supposed to 'slip' into any of it, but hurried to do as he was told anyway. Over to one side, the two-man camera crew smirked... blatantly ogling the bodies of both sissies as they were unveiled before them. Jesse had become quite used to stripping in front of strangers by now, it wasn't like the school made any efforts to hide their changing rooms away from outside view. But there was something different about not being in a crowd of similarly exposed sluts that made him more self-conscious about it, along with the utter shame of doing so next to such an ethereal beauty as Selene. The tiny, little teen with his lightly-bumping chest felt like a sack of potatoes when compared with those long limbs and pristine angles.

The senior himself didn't act like he acknowledged any of this though, pausing while entirely naked to crouch down and help his companion work out exactly what went where and tie the ribbons around his ankles. Jesse couldn't help but stare at the dangling set of cock and balls hanging free between the marvel's legs. Somehow even they seemed pretty and effeminate, decorated with a weaved mesh of winding, silver threads. The younger fucktoy wasn't entirely sure if they were permanent piercings or just some sort of metallic sock that could be slipped on and off, but the winding patterns were hypnotic either way. He simply couldn't come to terms with how fundamentally feline and feminine every aspect of this person was, despite the Algorithm not granting any of the additional bumps and curves it deemed necessary for the likes of Suzy and him.

Jesse realised he'd been staring too long. Losing track of what Selene had even been saying to him. The magnificent creature gave him a patient smile and indicated the leg hole again, pulling the thin, stretchy material up around his tutee's frame. It was some sort of leotard, or bodysuit, in the centre. Clinging tightly to the shape of the wearer's torso, while leaving their limbs and flanks exposed. The little femboy gulped at the small but obvious bulge it made of his manhood. This main section was supplemented by those strands of even finer material which floated down to form skirts and sleeves, fastened at the wrists and ankles. These glittered and flowed with every movement he made, a startling effect that he guessed had a lot more money and technology behind it than anyone would deem reasonable. His far-taller partner pulled on an exactly-matching attire in record time and then set to work pulling out lipsticks and eyeshadow with a similarly sparkling motif. By the space of five minutes they were both simply glimmering, looking like two lost djinni from a fantastical harem in some far-away oasis.

"Right now, Rosy-cheeks. Time to strut our stuff!" He calmly encouraged, pushing Jesse out in front of the waiting men and their leering lenses.

"But... what do you...? I've never... What do I do?!"

Panicked the suddenly spot-lit femboy, that never-quite-escaped-from whirlpool of self doubt resurfacing as always. The fact that the cameras had already begun flashing and lapping up this fretful outburst, only making it worse.

"Just relax, Sweety..." Came Selene's softly spoken advice, joined by a reassuring hand upon the sissy's rear. "You're on camera all the time, around here... You know that."

Jesse was more than aware of his constant voyeur exposure, not least because he had to sit through Betsy tagging, filing and editing half of it... each and every evening. "B-but this is completely different!" He lamented, looking around at the green-screened studio and his incomparable co-star. Props and lights and professional-grade equipment.

"No different from any other role we slip into... being what we are." Said Selene, sealing it with the lightest of kisses. "You just give them what they want, little flower... Just give them what they want."

Chapter 4: The way to see one's self

Jesse tried his best... but he just felt so ridiculous and out of place, bending and pouting in front of these two men and their cameras. Their instructions seemed to make no sense: telling him to act like various small, fluffy animals or 'beg with just your eyes'. He'd never really even had to think about what expression he was wearing on his face, or at what angle the light was reflecting off his perky, round asscheeks. The narrow strip of his outfit which cut up between those, presented them more openly than ever before and left him feeling like he was in a constant state of being wedgied upon a tightrope. It even made him somewhat glad that their normal uniform involved no underwear, rather than the spindly thongs he'd seen some lower class fucktoys wear.

Meanwhile, Selene continued to exude perfection. Finding new ways to flaunt himself before those lenses with every pose and glance. He didn't even step on Jesse's toes to do it, managing to frame his form around the smaller, more timid sissy's attempts and constantly offering advice and suggestions. The junior slutwife felt more and more like dead weight, sinking into a mute desperation to just let this far superior being arrange him like a mannequin. Selene took the role as needed, but it was clear he wanted this younger ward to add some inspiration to the mix. The idea that he might be disappointing someone he hung on the every word of, only making Jesse feel worse.

After an hour or so, they were allowed a break for a costume and background change. Jesse already felt exhausted, and slumped into a despondent heap. Couldn't he just go back to sucking stranger's dicks in the cold city streets? His fellow, but far more experienced student came and sat down behind him, offering a wrap-around hug.

"Why do we have to do this? Don't they get enough photos of us already?!" He murmured, surprising even himself with the desolate sound of his complaint. It wasn't like him at all, to voice displeasure with anything that was required of him.

The femboy he was between the knees and arms of seemed to think for a minute, arranging his thoughts.

"Madame Stanfield told me once: 'There is a difference between natural beauty and artistry'..."

He kissed the smaller sissy's forehead and looked down into those wide, watery eyes.

"What do I seem like to you, Jesse?"

There was no hesitation. "You're amazing! You're like... some kind of mystical creature... or beautiful alien! The way you move... and talk... and, and... everything! I could never be like that!"

The elder plaything smiled at the compliments, but carried on with the lecture:

"Exactly! The Algorithm worked out long ago that my attraction was in being ethereal... androgynous. Some kind of barely-human picture that my clients can fawn over as rare and precious and delicate. Someone to put on a shelf or a pedestal and draw all eyes to when I walk into the ballroom on their elbow..." His eyes glazed over a little as he distributed these visions of himself, as if watching them form in the middle distance.

"But the point is you don't have to be like that... That's not who you are... Not what anyone wants you to be. And trying to force it will just end up frustrating and upsetting you."

Selene ran a selection of those long, precise fingers up under Jesse's chin. Holding the precious things face up to meet his stare and plucking one small tear from the corner of an eye.

"What you need to work out and understand... is what the rest of the world wants to see in you. What they imagine when they stare down into these big, round eyes of yours. The innocent desperation to please that you don't seem to realise seeps out of your every pore. You are beautiful Jesse... Not like me, no. But like you. What you need to work on... is seeing that in the way everyone else sees it."

He leaned down toward the trembling femboy and placed their lips together. A proper kiss this time, sliding their tongues around each other. Jesse felt his heart beating faster and warmth returning to his limbs. Wanting nothing more than to melt into that embrace forever.

Chapter 5: To serve a higher cause

"I like to think of it like this..." Selene stated, breaking off the kiss at last. "Some people were born to paint... but we are here to serve. That is how we make our mark upon the world. Instead of splashing our little bit of brightness onto a blank page, or into a music file; we put a smile directly onto our master's face."

The femboy booped Jesse on the nose to emphasise this, stroking his hands across various parts of the smaller human's body as the lecture continued.

"We take on the shapes that they've always dreamed of. That they've fantasised about for so long, but never quite believed could be real. We bring them pleasure. And whether they deserve it, or thank us, or take it from us with whips and paddles and worse... It doesn't matter. Because we are doing what we were born to do, the best that we can do it."

Jesse was in love with the way his senior talked. The way he softly, gently laid out these views without pushing or pressing them. With none of the 'you should have already thought of this' that he sometimes got from Betsy.

"You make it sound so... noble." He replied, dreamily. Never remembering having had cause to use the word in real life before.

Selene smiled again. "I really think it is... in a way. Though maybe that's just me making excuses for where I am in the world? Either way... I'm good at what I do. I know that... and that makes me happy, whatever else happens around it. I feel lucky that I got to come here and learn from the best of the best when it comes to making pretty slutwives. It means I got to understand, and come to terms with... what it is people want to be true when they look at me."

The message was beginning to sink in for Jesse. The often a little naive, but ever-earnest cogs in his brain starting to whir.

"So it's all just... acting, really? Pretending to be who they want you to be?"

The senior shook his sharp-featured head. That smile becoming more sly, just for a second. "No, my lovely... not quite. There's no pretending about it. You only exist to be who they want you to be. So that is who you are. All you have to learn... is how to properly show it."

He made a move to stand up, offering Jesse a hand to head back between the lights.

"I have a flamboyant group of masters who asked me to recite poems by Lord Byron while they took turns inside my rectum. The next time they paid for me, I surprised them by reading one I'd written myself... all about how magical it had felt to be fucked over a footstool while reading the Romantics. Nobody asked me to. It wasn't a command, or homework assignment, or anything like that. It just felt like the right thing to do, because that's what the best version of a sexdoll like me would do."

He pulled the smaller sissy into another kiss, this one more for the cameras. Then grinned to see the young man arching his back and raising his far leg at just the right angle. Something had changed inside the pretty, little plaything... though he was clearly still thinking it through. This one was going to be a master of the arts, someday. Selene was fairly sure of that. The quiet, slow way he considered you as you looked down on him from above told you everything you needed to know. The femboy would go home tonight and mull over every word and little glance you'd given him... agonising at the thought of having got something wrong. Then would come back tomorrow just as humble, never noticing how much better he'd gotten... or how quickly you could move the goalposts. A cruel master could keep asking the impossible of him forever... and he'd always keep on trying.

When the photo session was over, and the lunch hour bell had rung. The senior turned to Jesse one more time before they went their separate ways.

"Me and Miss Daisy have a baby now... I'll probably never see her again once I leave here. But... I hope she grows up to be someone like you, Jesse. I really do."

Then the swan-like creature turned away, and drifted magnificently down the corridor.

Chapter 6: The mother of routine maintenance

"Thanks, hun... That's much better."

The older woman gave a contented smile as she settled herself more comfortably down into the padded grip of the machine. Betsy gave a sigh of relief as she heaved herself back up from the awkward position she'd had to bend to in order to adjust the large suction cups attached to this fellow breeder's even larger chest. This was the third milker that she and Finder had fixed that afternoon. The scuttling maintenance bots would come running in a matter of seconds if a pipe was clogged, or one of the pumps shut down... and would even try their best if the mother-to-perpetually-be summoned them manually. But explaining to a voice-command AI why something was particularly uncomfortable in one way or another, was an effort in frustration. Thus Finder's quiet, patient ministrations were ever in demand; the problem-solving aspect of it seeming to help make the memoryless worker feel useful amongst his indentured servitude. Of course, by now, the fact that his unofficial assistant would be trailing around too was gratefully welcomed as well. Betsy got the feeling that, even while lounging in the straps of giant breast-pumps and being claimed from behind by whatever visiting stranger happened to pass by, some of the women preferred it if it was her hands rearranging their sensitive bits.

Her own bits were becoming ever-more sensitive these days though, as the growing bulge in her belly made her back creak every time she stood up. The pregnant teenager caught her companion shooting a glance of concern in her direction and had to fight the urge to rub her aching soreness. She didn't want another argument about how she should be doing nothing but resting 24hrs a day and letting the occasional belly-chaser work out his kink inside her. Lounging around with the other first-timers was just so boring. Their conversations as dull and repetitive now as they had been six months ago.

The idea that she was carrying one small, precious sliver of her species' future. That it might be a darling little boy or girl born from Jesse's near-perfect genetics: All that still set her heart fluttering with pride and excitement... And the first month or so of nigh-constant penetration as stranger after stranger tried their best to inseminate her... Well... that had been everything her younger self had fantasised it might be. But this... This lounging around on padded cushions, with perhaps one class of gentle prenatal exercises and the fumbling attentions of one or two slobbering perverts a day to look forward to... It would just be driving her mad, if she didn't find other tasks to occupy her as well.

Still, even she had to admit that, at some point soon, she would have to ease off on all this stomping around and clambering under machinery. The facility's management and medical robots had been happy to mostly ignore her activities so far... but if there was any risk to their product growing in her belly, Betsy knew that would quickly change. There was something that she wanted to achieve, before that door closed. Something that she needed to know, to make all this worthwhile... and she had been slowly building up the courage to ask Finder to help her find the answer. Getting to know the limits of what the docile man would be willing to help with, or turn a blind eye to.

When they were sat together for a short break, in one of the maintenance passageways between breeding pens. She finally dared breach the subject:

"Finder... You know where they keep the records about all of us, don't you?"

The greying man's eyes flicked towards her in surprise and instant suspicion. But he would not lie to her.

"I do."

Betsy nodded between racing thoughts. While the Algorithm would have access to all their data, the various breeding corporations would be so embroiled with their own competitions of birth rates, milk quality and offspring behavioural matrices... that they'd insist their own servers stored those details. Which meant someone like her friend, who was basically just seen as part of the furniture around here, was in a uniquely advantageous position.

"They'll know who the father is, by now... won't they?"

The teenage mother-to-be flashed him a pleading look. She had told the quiet worker everything about Jesse. He had chuckled at her obsession, but clearly knew how much it all meant to her.

"They don't like for you lot to find out things like that... it makes it all... harder..." He replied, not answering... but also answering the question.

"Wouldn't it be better for you to just... believe you got what you wanted?"

His voice was soft and crackling. Betsy could tell he was genuinely just trying to protect her. Yet, there was something else in the way he couldn't meet her eye and scratched at the back of his scalp. She had come to realise, over the months they'd known each other, that there was a deeper sense of fear and avoidance inside the man... Not of the ones who had taken most of his freedom and memories, as such. But of everything else that lay outside the little world of cycles and routines he'd built on top of that. He knew what she was asking... and clearly thought it was possible they could manage it. It was what might else might be gleaned from that success which scared him.

Chapter 7: A hurried change of self

"Be quick... I've got to go meet John and Miranda soon!" Jesse squeaked over his shoulder to the other sissy.

Suzy had ambushed him after class and dragged him into one of the broom closets they had made use of more than once. The school seemed to have quite an overabundance of such small, confined spaces lining its corridors... almost certainly more for this purpose than any particular surplus of supplies. Jesse couldn't see any cameras hidden among the neat racks of paddles, rope and lines of different-sized buttplugs, but he knew they would be there. Still, it was pleasant to have some semblance of privacy as he felt his femboyfriend's hardened flesh slide up under his skirt from behind. It was always a little awkward to be bent over and fucked in the corridors when everyone was milling about and trying to say goodbye. You couldn't really concentrate on either thing and tended to end up derailing the polite conversation with moans, while also failing to enjoy the invasion quite so much.

Today he had a particular need to scuttle off and get changed, though. John and Miranda had something 'special' planned, and had even taken him dress shopping last week specifically for this evening. He had a beautiful, peach-hued slip to squeeze into just waiting downstairs, and had consulted Mrs Durren over what makeup and accessories might match. Binita had promised to wait by their lockers and help apply it all, since she was becoming quite celebrated as having the steadiest hands. Of course, all of which pressed lightly upon Suzy's jealousy over him. He had fully expected to be plucked aside and penetrated before he could get on with any of that, and tried to let his lover enjoy it, despite the need to hurry. Wiggling his little ass to show appreciation for every thrust and leaning back into a kiss. Jesse wished he could reassure his closest friend that those cheeks and hole were always there for him, first and foremost... but a good, little slutwife had to be on time for her commitments. The natural slide into thinking of himself as a 'she' had already begun. Her master and mistress for the evening paid good money for their sweet, pretty schoolgirl... she wouldn't dream of letting them down.

The car waiting for him by the sidewalk was a ruby-red convertible. Gleaming in the sunlight and simply throbbing with impracticality. John's latest hobby seemed to be renting out a new refurbished antique every other week and weaving it in between all the automated traffic using the actual manual steering of the damn thing. It had made for a few scenarios exciting in more than the usual ways on Jesse's regular date nights with the pair... but she had to admit: So far they had always ended up laughing afterwards. Putting her trust in her purchasers and just feeling the wind whoosh through her hair and the engine hum beneath her butt, was not so different from the usual pattern of things, really. She plucked up the hem of her dress and points of her glinting heels, scooting into the backseat. This was because Miranda was currently leaning heavily across from the front passenger side to bury her head in the lap of her cousin. A situation that resumed even after they had both given their hired newcomer a pair of sloppy kisses hello, and set the vehicle in motion.

Jesse smiled as she felt the brisk, Fall air fly past... filled with potential for storms or a last flash of sunlight. She had no idea what lay ahead for the evening, but was more than used to that by now. Her clients would take her where they wanted. Show her a fresh set of wonders she could never have imagined, growing up in the grey world of Home 23. Then they would probably fuck her little brains out and drop her off back in that other dimension, to hear about how Betsy's day had been. This was her life now: day in, day out... and the trainee sissy-slutwife was beginning to really think... maybe it wasn't so bad.

Chapter 8: Towards the glittering lights

Jesse wiped the corner of her mouth, checking her lipstick in the wing view mirror of the car. Of course, any cosmetic handed out to students of Madame Stanfield's was certainly supposed to be able to stand up to a roadside blowjob or three... but it had been drilled into the sissy to always double-check. Meanwhile, the Corpo highway officer leaned over to chat with the two rich kids still lounging patiently in their seats.

"Aaah, much obliged. Miss and Mister. That's a skilled little cocksucker you've got hold of there. She had some fancy training?"

Miranda flicked the ashes of her cigarette over the side of the vehicle, clearly a little annoyed and exasperated by this delay in their journey. It was sort of expected these days: That any private security officer who saw a couple of spoiled brats driving their latest rental through his short stretch of jurisdiction, would take it upon himself to pull them over and demand a share. It barely seemed like blackmail or bribery anymore... just, taxes. But it still tended to annoy the hell out of those who were used to such 'wageslaves' getting out of their way. The idea of someone low enough he still had to earn a living jamming himself down the throat of their precious, young plaything was just... distasteful. Whatever else they might represent, John and Miranda were honest in the way they revered Jesse and the rest of their 'collection' as special, unique and exclusive toys who should be beyond the reach of any common pervert. Though... they still weren't going to risk annoying their parents with a fine notice over it.

"She's a first year at Stanfield's." Huffed the woman, with a certain degree of condescending pride. "Now, are you done here? We're going to be late for the show."

The officer tipped his cap, leering at Jesse's ass as the sissy clambered back into the car. This slip of road might be his kingdom to rule, but it still wasn't worth agitating the silver spoon-lickers too much. You never knew whether their family might own the hedge fund which owned 90% shares in the shell company which had merged with the admin outsourcer which held the lease on your apartment... or something. Best not to make your badge number visible and memorable.

Jesse relaxed back into the leather of her seat, watching the blue and red lights fade into the general neon haze of the evening highway. She barely registered such casual encounters anymore, and still didn't know what it was they might be late for. The taste of another stranger's semen slowly seeped down the back of her throat, where it would almost certainly be joined by several similar flavours before the night was done. Really, it was just nice to be out and about again... feeling the refreshing chill of a not-yet-bitter breeze. Date nights with John and Miranda had rapidly become such a vital part of her servile life. She couldn't really imagine having a week where she couldn't look forward to another new adventure: dipping her toes into the worlds of those with everything. A vague anxiety tickled the back of her mind when she thought back to all the brief slips of budgeting conversation she'd heard from them: Whenever they'd found some new little pet to adopt and had to decide which older model to leave behind. It seemed like her position as one of their favourites was secure, for the moment... but what if all those other, young fucktoys thought that too?

The conversation with Selene drifted back through the femboy's mind. The lesson that he'd been trying to pass on. Jesse had been so lucky to end up among Madame Stanfield's elite selection, but... she couldn't rely on the prestige of her headmistress's name forever. If a plucky slutwife-to-be wanted to stay embroiled in those glittering lights of high society, then she was going to have to work her submissive, little butt off. Learn what all these varying masters and mistresses saw in her... and make sure it was always fully on display!

Somewhere, in the back of her mind: a teenage boy who had looked at the words printed on his career card in horror... blinked. But that naive, young creature was barely more than a memory. He'd always felt like he had no place in the world around him. While this practised slut in slip and heels had such clear direction in who she had to be.

Chapter 9: A grand entrance

The entrance hall to the theatre was bathed in warm, golden light and swarming with finely-dressed people... and their accompanying human pets. Jesse had never seen so many elegant outfits and glittering jewels before. Everyone was drenched in precious metals and rare gemstones, with the submissive playthings among them seeming to be used more like display stands than anything else: 'Here is my best-trained slut, doesn't he/she look darling in those earrings mother brought back from Sri Lanka.' Was the sentiment that profused audibly, visibly and olfactorily through the room.

Suddenly the Home-raised sissy felt a little under-dressed. The beauteous slip that John and Miranda had bought for her almost certainly worth a small fortune, but nothing more than a penny-rag compared to some of the wealth on display. As she had got to know the couple more, she had come to realise that this was why they always seemed to be railing against their parent's tight belt and open disdain for their 'frivolities': In their world, they actually looked poor. It clearly ate away at them.

"Jesse! Over here!"

The femboy was utterly stumbled to hear her name being called out, and took a second or two to locate the waving source. There, walking towards them, was the shimmering form of Lizzy! With the largest diamond that could possibly be imagined hanging from her neck... and a tall, blonde-haired stranger in tow. The small, olive-skinned girl was draped in a shifting fabric that looked like it was made of pure pearlescence. It rainbowed through a thousand different colours with every instant, while still being translucent enough to show her naked body beneath. In direct contrast to the man she was leashed to with a silver chain, who wore a simple suit of darkest possible black. His smile was calm and easy, and he let the slutwife lead him without a hint of indignation. But, when his eyes landed on Jesse for a moment... she found something deeply, suddenly unsettling about them. Like he was looking right through her, into all the possibilities beyond. She had felt that way before... when she had met the man who worked on the Algorithm, all those months ago. Yet, this was slightly different. Dr Pietre had seemed just detached, curious and... slightly sad. For half a heartbeat, this new stranger gave her a sense of... pure, unbridled fury. A deep-seated rage that could just never be quenched. No-one else seemed to notice it though... and when she caught his eye again, it was gone.

Once introductions were made, the paying contingent of the group began chattering away over the heads of their rented property, as was often the case. Jesse caught several bursts of flattered laughter from Miranda, and an increasingly interested series of questions from John, which told her the pair were quite taken with Lizzy's owner/fiance. Meanwhile, she got to surreptitiously chat with her schoolfriend. Learning his name was Derrick Carter and he often just turned up out of the blue like this to take her to things. Prior to this, all Jesse had learned about the man was that he had paid/bribed Madame Stanfield to accept Lizzy despite her actually being graded only second-class by the Algorithm and did not seem to mind the girl having a 'boyfriend' in her Home. Both quite unusual points among those who specifically sponsored the training of a personal slutwife. The teen gushed with enthusiasm for her master, showing off her outfit and necklace proudly. Jesse certainly came off with a better impression of how Liz was treated as compared to Suzy's relationship with 'Daddy'. Yet... she also couldn't quite escape that first feeling she'd got when he looked at her. Was she just being silly? Betsy always said it was her hyper-tuned empathy that made her both worry all the time and be such a well-picked submissive by the Algorithm. Was it something to do with that that made him scare her?

When the bell rang for people to begin taking their seats, Miranda scooped up the sissy to escort her to the ladies room. The first time this had happened, Jesse had been incredibly self-conscious sharing a cubicle and make-up mirror with her fully-female owner. But nowadays such brief moments of 'girl-time' seemed quite welcome and natural. While the pair of them fixed their lipstick and mascara, the woman unveiled:

"Mr Carter's invited us to share his box for the show... he's bought the best one in the house! I can't believe your little school-friend's his wife-to-be. We knew you were our good luck charm! I'd heard about him on the grapevine... Apparently he was just an insurance-stamp heir, like us... but got disowned."

Jesse usually found herself a little bored by all the gossip and name-dropping that occupied a lot of John and Miranda's thoughts, but this she picked up on. Hearing someone had been 'disowned' by one of the big, corporate families was effectively like hearing they were dead. They were basically never heard from again and assumed to have spent out whatever remaining life and wealth they had in disgrace... among the middle classes.

"But, here he is... years later, buying up the best seats in the Grenadine. Ruffling the feathers of all those old guard fat-cats! I don't think John's ever looked at anyone except me the way he's hanging off the man's every word. Us girls are going to have to play our prettiest just to compete!"

She smiled at Jesse to highlight her joke. Offering one of those sly, little 'just between us' winks she was so fond of. The femboy smiled back. She did like how her regular mistress always made efforts to draw her into a sense of 'sister's sharing secrets' together. But, the sissy could already tell that the woman was also rather smitten with this new shared associate, which worried her further. A man who should have nothing... but instead was showing off enough to tread on the richest player's toes. That was someone dangerous. You didn't need to be anyone near the game to see that.

Chapter 10: A tragedy unfolding

The 'box' containing the best seats in the theatre was bigger than three double rooms in the Homes that Jesse and Lizzy had been raised in. It was lavishly furnished with an array of sofas and lounging chairs, allowing guests to relax and enjoy the show in whichever position they might feel most comfortable... and joined by as many of their favourite pets as they might desire. The place even came with two pretty, naked serving toys of its own: one male, one female. Who proudly revealed that they had been the supporting stars of a previous production, sold on once the play had run its course. They were more than happy to run back and forth collecting drinks and food orders for the rich socialites and their rented guests, and simply stood demurely to one side whenever they weren't required.

Jesse and Lizzy ended up secure in the laps of the two men who owned them this evening, their expensive dresses of course designed specifically to allow such arrangements. There was a period of lively bouncing while the rest of the audience found their seats and a live orchestra warmed itself up. Lizzy seemed to have seen all this before, so was concentrating more on giving her husband-to-be the best fucking she could. But her sissy companion was wide-eyed and awestruck by the wide open view before them and the way every sound seemed to be picked up and reverberate back down from the rafters. The gasps and moans of a hundred or so other human fucktoys, keeping their impatient masters entertained, sounded like they could all actually be right next to her. It was a trick nearly as impressive as a sky made from screens, or ocean waves brought by machines... but utilising technology far less modern.

Once the lights were dimmed, the noise died down though. The slutwives and their ilk all around the wide room, were expected to sit back upon the cocks buried inside them and keep their voices and movements to a minimum. Of course, it wasn't even considered that they stop being fucked completely... Only that such erotic actions were achieved as quietly as possible, on principles of politeness. The curtains arose upon a scene of regal opulence and actors young and old began booming out their lines. Lizzy passed her friend a pair of tiny binoculars, which could be used to digitally zoom in on the action near limitlessly. They even allowed one to bring up all manner of details about the play and performers, including where they'd been trained and how available they were for hire outside of theatrical scheduling. Jesse guessed the top-most theatre companies must have a business model fairly similar to Stanfield's Academy. No-one put their human property out in public view in this world without knowing someone would pay to touch them too.

The play began as it very much expected to continue: With the two, young actors who took the central roles in this tangled story... being caught in the throes of lovemaking. Jesse was not entirely surprised that all the, many, sex scenes within the tale were played out with genuine penetrations and only ended when the protagonists had been cum heavily on, or in. There was some evidence of them being cleaned up a bit, during scene or costume changes. But it was also plain to see that both of them, teens about her age, were gradually becoming drenched in sweat and ever more red-faced. The trainee slutwife was quite used to long-hauls of arousal and invasion after invasion by now... but even she was impressed by the pair's poise and stamina. She didn't think she'd be able to come up with all the right lines on cue if she was being bowled over by the 14th cock in a row. Even while sat here bouncing, with a girthy slab of meat buried in her own ass... Watching this gangbang-with-a-plot made her feel a little sore just from empathy.

Whoever had written this thing had apparently been determined not to allow the protagonists a single break. Other characters simply gave out their lines while the stars were still being fucked in the background. Making the whole thing seem as much a display of athletic abilities as it was one of cultured creativity.

Chapter 11: The tale of two heirs

Jesse hadn't really been able to keep up with the plot... Distracted as she was by the penis in her own rectum, sympathy for the players involved and anxiously catching how 'Derrick' was very obviously flirting with both Miranda and John behind her back.

Lizzy, however, seemed utterly gripped by the tale being told. Bobbing her little hips upon her fiance's lap out of basic, ingrained muscle-memory, yet more than happy to explain to her classmate every little detail that was going on.

It would seem the story followed the twin prince and princess of an ancient, faraway kingdom. After the loss of their mother and remarriage of their father, they had started taking solace in each other's bed. An act they were caught in the middle of during the opening scene of the play... It would seem the new queen had learned of their taboo activities and set them up to be found out humiliatingly before all the royal court. Thus forcing their own father to publicly exile them and name her own son as the heir apparent.

Jesse struggled to dissolve herself in the fantasy struggles of a pair of incestuous, pampered royalty. Ideas of familial inheritance and the loss of a mother ringing slightly hollow against a Home-raised femboy who'd never even known her own. Still, she could see how insidious political manoeuvring among blood-related empires might appeal to the theatre's paying audience.

The twins were abandoned in the desert, wandering for days with little food or water and, of course, still making love nigh constantly. There was an actually fairly touching scene, where both thought that this would be the last time they embraced... before they were suddenly set upon by a band of colourful bandits and captured. It turned out this group was part of a roving band of slave takers and circus entertainers, who were famed for 'finding the prettiest fillies in the land' and turning them into erotic performers and courtesans 'that no man or woman could resist!'

The slutwife observing found it a little jarring that the eccentric gaggle of comedic stereotypes began singing and dancing almost immediately as they had the exiled siblings in chains. The poor teenage foils were dragged hither and thither across the stage in a whirlwind of slapstick introductions, being tossed around like juggling pins as their already ragged clothes were torn from them. It actually looked... a lot of fun. Which Jesse rather felt being taken into slavery against your will traditionally wasn't. Thank goodness the Algorithm had stepped in and rid the world of such practices! Now only people who actually wanted to, ended up in chains and collars... Her own small and girlish frame started to imagine being lifted up and thrown around by a group of muscular strangers she'd just met, and her heart fluttered a little at the thought. Suddenly, amidst all the chaos... a new character stood out as oddly familiar.

The prince and princess were placed in the hands of Velavanda, the strict and exacting beauty who had trained many of the greatest love-slaves ever to have lived. The woman was part teacher, part acrobatics trainer, part sorceress. She began educating the disowned royals in how to best use their bodies to please others through all manner of harsh and elaborate methods. Teaching them more about the world they had lived so sheltered away from at the same time, and clearly building a certain affection and admiration for the pair of them. The twins soon became star attractions of the travelling show, coming up with intricate, erotic dance routines and partaking in all manner of orgies and gangbangs with men and women, rich and poor, young and old.

By now, Jesse was just as invested in the story unfolding as Lizzy was. The midway interval had come and gone, where both sluts had been treated to ice cream... though its flavour was ruined a little by the salty taste of what they had done to earn it. The displays of lurid flexibility and sordid skill the young actors were displaying below piqued both dedicated students' interests. Their own training had always mostly centred around the more practical methods one could please their current masters... but all this over-the-top showboating and swinging-from-silk sword-swallowing opened a world of new opportunities in their submissive minds. They couldn't help but imagine the praise and admiration they might win if they learned to entertain their owners-to-be with such parlour tricks.

The play came into its final act with the revelation that the troupe would be returning to the kingdom of their birth, some two years after they'd left. Their fame had spread far and wide... and they were to perform before the royal court itself. Velavanda helped them prepare their most spectacular show yet, and they practised it day and night. When the time came to perform it, they wowed everyone completely... and so different had they grown in looks and mannerisms that no-one recognised them. The king was so impressed that he bought them immediately... to serve in his personal harem. Both twins got to return to their life of opulence and safety, though they lamented that they could never reveal to their father who they really were. When he passed away, their stepmother's son did indeed become king... but so smitten was he with his half-siblings, that he elected to marry them both! The twins became joint queens of the country they had been exiled from, and their reign was long and fruitful.

The curtain descended and the actors stepped out to bow. The two main stars liberally splattered with accumulated semen. Jesse and Lizzy leaned out from the balcony to offer rapturous applause, along with a room full of equal celebration. Both slutwives continued to discuss the plot excitedly, all the way to the private after-room. Which Derrick had already booked to contain wine, cigars, and a bed wide enough for everyone to share.

Chapter 12: In rooms behind locked doors

Betsy let the finally-flaccid thing slip from her mouth... Watching its owner like a hawk as she wiped away the glistening bridge of saliva and cum that still linked her to him. She was more than a little sore and exhausted. Getting yourself picked out to entertain the changing shifts of security for the breeding centre was one of those jobs most of the girls avoided like the plague. That was one of the few areas where the corporation was not going to skimp on genuine, living personnel... who couldn't be hacked into or distracted and disabled so easily as bots could. Of course that meant most of the men and women in the role were still-young Home kids themselves, deemed unsuitably aggressive or domineering for sex-pets or maintenance workers. There was something distinctly... vicious... in the way such people ended up treating those who had been brought up alongside them. As if, the sense of everybody having been put in the right place by the Algorithm gave them more leeway to do whatever they pleased to you. Most of that seemed to mellow out once they'd earned their place in the suburbs of middle-class freedom, plugged into the Net for most of the day renting movies or 3rd-tier fuckpuppets on the same monthly subscription package. But, until then... woe betide a pregnant young lady who offered herself to a room of them in the late afternoon.

Still... What that did inevitably mean, was that you ended up ditched in one of the break rooms with only the snoring form of a day-shift worker who'd missed his cue to go home for company. Betsy was dripping with the leavings of fifteen or so bored and pent up Corpos... but in one of the areas outside where she was supposed to have access to. She was supposed to have been escorted off the property after everyone had had their fun... but all the breeders knew how often that happened. Instead you just sort of dragged whatever was left of yourself out towards the exit and hoped whoever was supposed to be manning the doors was still around to beep you through. No-one was paying enough attention to check if that was what direction she actually headed in... Around here, she was just cattle. Part of the product line they were supposed to be guarding. What trouble was a swollen-bellied baby-oven going to get up to?

She met Finder three corridors over. He'd got permission to access the building's main servers earlier, to 'sort an overheating stack'. They'd both be on camera for the whole escapade, of course, but unless they tripped some sort of automated alarm, why would anyone care. Their unofficial, little partnership was well known... as was Finder's struggles with the more software-based problems which arose. He'd just happened to see his young friend in the corridor and asked her to help him. Betsy wasn't exactly a super-hacker herself, but she'd dipped her endlessly curious toe into network security as much as she had anything else. The teen was fairly certain she could access what she wanted to without alerting the wider system. It wasn't exactly the most diligently guarded information, after all. Once again, their best protection was that they weren't looking for what it was expected they'd be looking for. Still, her heart thumped and her knees creaked as she kneeled down next to the tiny, blurry direct-access console.

Her slightly-greying companion kept watch. He hadn't wanted anything to do with this. Didn't think anything good could come of it, for either of them. His life here was comfortable... not perfect, maybe... but safe and cyclical and certain. Whatever lay behind him, clearly hadn't ended well. There was no fighting against the greater systems of this world. All you could do was find your place and be content in it...

Except young Betsy didn't seem to be in her right place, to his humble judgement. It wasn't just her obvious intelligence: some of the most successful baby-makers around here were happy enough to read books on existential philosophy that he could barely get beyond the title of, while letting the suction cups do their work. Some further sense of an endless restlessness in her called out to him. The Algorithm didn't make mistakes... she herself had said that to him, more than once. But, every time, he wondered just who she was really trying to convince.

A brief gasp came from behind him. A noise that still clutched at his heart strings a little. He must have made love to this girl half his age fifty times or more by now. It was just a natural part of sharing air around here... Yet, every time... Finder found himself drawn in a little more to the joy of watching her curving form roll beneath him. He knew, to her, it was just another cock burrowing in where so many had already... A necessary chore to let them talk without some other visitor trying to butt in. However, to him, it seemed to awaken thoughts and sensations that he'd thought were long lost behind the veil in his memory. He hadn't been able to bring himself to fuck any of the other breeders since...

Betsy had closed up the access panel, ceasing the eerie light of it from picking out her face. She heaved herself up and came up to pat him on the shoulder.

"Let's get out of here..." She whispered. Finder couldn't really read her expression at all, but her voice was distant and thoughtful. He both wanted to ask what she'd learned, and didn't, with every ounce of his being.

Chapter 13: Sympathy for the devil

"You see... It's the most important thing in life: to take up the role in which you really belong." The tall, blonde man gestured broadly and graciously, brushing his hand under Lizzy's chin and tilting it up to lend her smile toward him.

He spoke to the room like a preacher, while Miranda sat on the end of the bed to light her next cigarette and John poured several more drinks. Jesse had found herself promoted down into a kneel, side by side with her entranced classmate. The sissy wasn't even exactly sure how this had occurred. She was used to being told to get on her knees, of course, and had been trained in the eleven unique positions one could do so... But this terrifying man had somehow got Lizzy and her to descend symmetrically, in unison, right in the middle of the room. Ready to be props for his spiel. Without so much as a glance in their direction. Had he tapped them on the forehead? Ran a finger up her spine? The femboy simply couldn't remember, nor could she escape from his words... even inside her own skull. It was an incredibly frightening thing to realise... yet at the same time: The more he spoke. The warmer and closer toward him she began to feel.

"It's not even about power and supremacy..." He continued, mopping the loose but refined styling of his hair to one side... as if searching for the best way to reach this class he now had in session. Arrogant, but aware of it. Off-putting but charming. He was clearly a man used to filling a room with his thoughts and having them lapped up or rejected with equally devoted interest.

"I've attended a few of those lectures by sad, insecure men and women who still try to claim that animalistic hierarchy ideals like 'alpha' and 'beta' have any reflection upon humanity... As if true consciousness and 200,000 years of social evolution have got them nowhere."

He chuckled dryly, while spinning around again to give both Jesse and his slutwife-to-be a few scratches behind the ears.

"If anyone tries to act superior to you sweet things, but also declares themselves no smarter than a dog... I'd turn around and bite them, if I were you."

"So what are you saying? It's that nature versus nurture thing again?" Asked John, clearly trying to keep up. He handed a glass of shimmering, amber liquid to the man putting the world to rights. Jesse could see the slight sway in both of them that indicated this was only topping up a buzz well progressed by now.

"No, no! I'm saying they are both the same thing! I'm saying it was in our nature as a social species to create these more and more complex systems into which we can arrange ourselves to fit among each other. I'm saying all our collective thoughts and communications: art and philosophy and science and technology... they all lead to that place where we each know what we bring to the table... and what we take. Where we FIT... among all this!"

Derrick gestured around him. At the lavish furnishings full of surreptitiously camouflaged technological marvels. At the two teenage beauties born and raised specifically to be playthings for men like him; And, out beyond that... to the grey, green and glittering city stretching out near endlessly in every direction you could travel.

"It's not right for those stubborn, prideful, ageing relics out there to hold us back! To stall out our futures indefinitely, claiming they're prepping us to take over... but in truth, hoping never to have to let go of the reins. It's the same as unzipping your flies in front of these two... and not letting them come forward and do what their souls know they're supposed to."

The man did just that, unveiling a penis stood at full mast and then sitting down on the side of the bed next to Miranda. In her mind, Jesse naturally baulked against his words. That central doubt and scepticism to such self-sure diatribes that she had always thought of as her truest inner voice, never quite lost among a thousand rules of 'Slut etiquette' she'd now learned by heart. Yet, kneeling there, barely a foot away from a cock that clearly needed tending to... The sissy felt her mouth begin to water. Felt the urge to crawl forward growing in the cramping elastic of neatly folded muscles. To beg to bring this man she barely knew and already disliked, all the pleasure she could draw from him.

"All any of us is ever looking for in life is a sense of purpose..." Stated the man in command of a room he had purchased, whose occupant's attention he had taken without question. He stared right into the depths of Jesse's eyes, and the femboy knew he was searching for the signs of that hunger to please. Signs that she knew she could not hide.

"Once that purpose ceased to be simply survival... our entire species started searching for another, through whatever means spiritual, philosophical, creative or chemical we could. We've kept moving forwards. Kept evolving... in a million different directions, to each find out what that should be. Except... some of us are being held back. Trapped behind a generation so close to finding the answers, but who now refuse to fade away and pass on the torch. That is what is wrong with our world right now. That is what is choking us all, slowly."

Jesse couldn't turn away from those eyes. The slightly upturned smirk of someone who seemed to know exactly what she was feeling. Sympathy for his cause seemed to come unbidden from the undeniable need to take his genitalia into her mouth that was washing over all of her. If such was the frustration he was feeling... then of course she wanted nothing more than to help him. Would sucking his cock perhaps soothe some of it? Didn't he want to fuck her, just a little... to ease off some of that tension?

Derrick gave just the slightest indication of a beckon with one hand... and both slutwives rushed forward. Desperate to do what it was they were brought here to do. John and Miranda exchanged a glance, before stepping forward to join in.

Chapter 14: Where we go from here

Jesse got back to the little room in block H of Home 23 far into the early hours of tomorrow. His beautiful dress was splashed with stains of whiskey and fluids far more human... but that was nothing the automated laundry service wouldn't be able to handle. Besides, John and Miranda would never get him to wear it out with them again. You didn't pay a ridiculous amount of money to dress up one of your living dolls and then let them be seen escorting you in the same outfit twice! That would just be shameful...

Betsy's motionless form was in its usual place on her bed. She must have got in hours ago. The pair of them were gradually getting used to the idea of seeing each other less during those private hours of the morning and evening where once they would have been inseparable. New responsibilities were claiming their lives one by one, after all... and really they were both aware that a day would come soon when she would have to move out for a while. The breeding corporations didn't like to take any risks when the moment of return on all their investments came close. The pregnant teenager would be expected to stay in a section of the pit with state-of-the-art medical facilities, constantly monitoring her for any issues her baby might face.

Jesse didn't quite know how he might face that coming month alone. He was glad that his best friend would be being so well looked after, of course... but the little femboy had slept next to her or near her for almost every night he could remember. Even the idea of settling down in a room cold and empty from her presence seemed too strange to think about. Suzy had offered to let him stay with him and Daddy for the entire time... yet, even that was not a prospect that eased the sissy's worries. This was Home. Betsy was part of that. No amount of extra time with the femboyfriend he loved could replace it.

Betsy herself lay awake. Eyes open, but facing the wall. She heard the most precious person in her world come in and quietly choose his own bed... not wanting to risk disturbing her. Little did he know that she had only entered the room herself some half-an-hour earlier, and her thoughts were still racing around far too fast to allow a chance at sleeping. The information that she had gleaned from that small and flickering screen hidden behind walls she wasn't supposed to pass, scored into her mind. 25%. 25% match. Her child-to-be was 25% Jesse, the measure of a half-sibling.

It wasn't so unlikely, really... that just meant that whoever had impregnated her had done the same to Jesse's mother, some 18 years ago. That wasn't so strange a coincidence. There were only so many breeding centres, and a certain collection of men who had a penchant for visiting them more regularly than others. Except... she hadn't been able to resist. She'd looked at Finder's genetic comparison too:

50%. He was the father. Her new, old friend was the parent of both her unborn child and the boy she had grown up beside. Slowly falling in love with and watching be dragged away. In her belly, right now... pushing up awkwardly against her bladder, was Jesse's little brother or sister.

It all made it seem more real. More condensed and claustrophobic. The walls of the society they lived in squeezing tighter from all sides. Again... it made sense. Finder must have impregnated hundreds of women by now; living and working where he did. He'd certainly fucked her more times than anyone else. Yet, somehow... It was all too neat. Too deftly pre-arranged. Betsy didn't believe in fate. But then, you really didn't need to when you knew for a fact that there was some invisible, guiding hand directing all aspects of your life. Just how much of all this had the Algorithm purposefully set in motion?! How much did it know about what went on inside her head? Did it even know that she would break the rules to find this out?!

For the first time in her life, the young woman dedicated to the ideal that all this was the best way for humanity to arrange itself... looked around the room and shivered at the notion that some great, ineffable presence was watching her. Waiting for her to behave in exactly the ways its infinitely-complex probability matrices assumed she would. Her eyes were drawn to sweetly-sleeping Jesse, already fast asleep after another late, late night of being fucked by those who'd paid for the pleasure. Could she tell him? Or was that what the electronic mind wanted her to do? Another step in its plans to forge him into the perfect, human sex-toy. Should she tell Finder? Would he want that extra connection and landmark in the complicated matter of who he was and how long he'd been an incarcerated worker?

There was one more thing she'd learned, after all: The man who had fathered her first child...

His name was Joseph.

End Of Part 7

Thank you for reading! Jesse's story will be continued in part 8.

Ever so much love, JerkGently

Addendum:

Automated record of 'group chat' correspondence between Standfield's human property. Involved property ID numbers: , , ,

Friday 14th October 2192, 8:43pm,

FrankeE: Hows ur evenin goin guys n gals?

LizWiz5: Oh, alright. Not much happening. Gave a few HJ's to some guys at a bus stop on way home. Me and BF watching a movie.

FrankeE: tut, tut. What would Mrs Durren say bout such small amounts of sluttery? I happen to have a man inside me right this instant!

Suzypoo: Then you shouldn't be on your phone while servicing a client!

FrankeE: He don't mind. He's one of those weirdos who likes 2 be ignored when he's screwin u. Hes probz readin wat I'm writing, the loser. Wats he gonna do? Fuck me harder? ????

LizWiz5: Wheres Jesse 2nite?

FrankeE: Last I saw a certain someone wuz bundling him into Daddys car...

Suzypoo: ...

Suzypoo: He's with me... but busy atm

LizWiz5: Ooooh, pics plz!

Suzypoo: Why? You see him like this every day

FrankeE: Don't be liek that! U kno none of us can ever get bored of seein that lil cutie workin!

Suzypoo: Fine... [Picture redacted behind paywall] [Picture redacted behind paywall] [Picture redacted behind paywall]

LizWiz5: Jeez Suzy... how many times u guyz been at it already?

Suzypoo: [Picture redacted behind paywall]

Je$$e: hi guys! Soz... think Suz iz tryin to beat our record... ???? ????????

Suzypoo: What else are friday sleepovers for?

FrankeE: Well glad ur both havin fun... try to leave sumthin of Jess left 4 the rest of us on Mon, eh Suz?

Suzypoo: No promises.

LizWiz5: Dammit... now im horny... and BF can't afford me rite now!

LizWiz5: Im gonna go back out and find a customer or 3... spk to u all l8r!