Conrad was President and CEO of Genetic Solutions, an international organization that provided genetic assistance to groups pioneering the field of controlled breeding. Since 2066 free breeding with random partners had been a federal offense. Babies at birth were implanted with an 18-year dose of controlled-release birth control, coupled to a libido suppressant that made indiscriminate pregnancies or lascivious behavior among minors a thing of the past. On a citizen's 18th birthday , young men and women everywhere had a non-voluntary appointment with the Central Genetics Agency closest to their province which most of them dreaded, since it predicted the course of their future lives. Conrad had been studying ways to expedite this process which was costly and time-consumming.
Briefly, on Maturity Day, each young adult would be ushered into the long halls of the clinic, told to strip and lie down on the clinic tables, feet in stirrups, until the panel of medical experts reached them. Composed of a statistitian, a surgical attendant, a lab worker and a doctor DNA was logged, mating matches scheduled, identification pellets injected, and the old implant removed. When the others left, clutching their statistical boards and equipment, the doctor performed complete examinations . From then on, you were under the control of CGA.
You might not be scheduled for fertilization procedures for many years, but when you were, it was the end of your private life for awhile.
If CGA found that you were not optimal breeding stock, you would be set up for enslavement to top CEOs or government officials for sexual relief and for rendering company gratuities. Collared and cuffed you would spend the rest of your life in some capacity serving the sexual and staffing needs of big business.
Of course, Conrad, as a top-ranking entrepreneur had many slaves, both male and female, and the demands of his profession, kept them busy, in the bedroom and in the boardroom. Sex breaks were allowable and facilitated the sharpness of Conrad's board members.
"Damm! I need a break Conrad was often heard saying," and off he'd go to the slut room for relief.
Conrad's favorite house slave was Kajira, a tall, rounded red-head with large, firm mammary glands tipped with the erect pink nipples of a pregnant great dane . Any clothing she was allowed provided no coverage for breasts, or butt, or her sleek shaved pudendum.
Kajira had disobeyed him yesterday and gone to pick flowers on the hill behind the mansion without permission, and when this was reported by slave keeper, Mordoc, Conrad decided to bring her to work with him and expose her to the experimental breeding boys in the back room, a lusty and rambunctious bunch, in order to teach her what might happen to her if she did not obey him. Besides, he needed to gain some points with those guys, since they were overheard grumbling about a raise, and the firm was in no position to start granting raises this year. Maybe a little snatch of Kajira and her electric pussy would shut them up for awhile.
One of the best of the new inventions, Kajira had been given a little shocking device at the top of her vagina that delivered just enough of a jolt at orgasm to make the experience of fucking her memorable. That, coupled to a mouth that could suck cock pneumatically with just enough pressure and plenty of juice, made her his best. Today, goddammit, she would earn her keep.
"Wait in here, Kid," he directed her, steering her into the pump room for preparation by aids. "I'm sorry to do this to you, Kajira, my flower-picking wench, but punish you I will."
Wide-eyed and worried, Kajira did as she was told, sitting on the edge of the only piece of furniture in the room, a narrow table with moveable head, butt and leg racks. Stainless steel but surprisingly comfortable with its ergonomic design, the only intimidating aspect of the table was its leg racks that could be swung wide and clamped in place and the heavy black latex straps for thighs, knees and ankles.
Back in his office, Conrad grabbed the intercom and told his secretary in the outer office to send in the first of the boys in the EBR.
"How about Max, first?" he suggested. "That ought to get my little cunt steaming."
"If you say so, Sir,"she giggled, "If you think she can take it!"
