"Next on our program, we have Bella 13," the interviewer said.
Bella tried not to squirm as a camera swung in towards her face. She wasn't used to being the public face of her family's company, but she'd have to work on that. Even if her appearance was something she'd always been self-conscious about.
She was wearing a base layer under her slim-suit, to keep the compression fabric from irritating her skin, but she could feel herself sweating through that base layer, under the hot studio lights.
"Thank you so much for having me," Bella replied.
"Now, Bella, you're about to turn 23, which means you'll have a 30% share of your family's business empire. And I understand you're here to give us a preview of what you'll be doing with that."
"Right. As you know, there's been a widening divide, dating back to the early days of the colony. On one hand, you had those who had children sooner and more often, at the expense of having more mouths to feed."
"You can call us Breeders, it's okay," the interviewer said, with a gentle laugh.
"Exactly. And that was important, to build up the colony's labor pool early on. And then on the other hand, you had families like mine, who focused on earning more in the years they could work the hardest, and delayed having children, and had fewer children to split their inheritance between. The Elites.
"I know there are lots of Breeders out there who would make the kinds of choices that the Elites make, if only they could. But even in the span of a couple centuries, Breeders have evolved to be resistant to conventional methods of birth control. For instance, hormonal birth control has steadily lost its efficacy on them. And most Breeders today have an inherited latex allergy."
"Don't I know it!" the interviewer said, breaking Bella's concentration momentarily.
"I'm going to be leading a research team to develop new forms of birth control. Ones that might actually work for Breeders."
"And tear down the class system?"
Bella shook her head. "If I, Bella 13, have a baby--which I have no intention to do until I'm at least 30--my baby would be part of generation 14."
"Or 15, or 16..." the interviewer added.
Bella smiled to cover for her irritation at the suggestion that she would marry down, and have a baby with a 14 or a 15 or worse. She knew that the interviewer was just engaging with her hypothetical scenario.
"Sure, it's possible. But for a Breeder--let's say she's a woman of my age, and she's a member of the 22nd generation--her children will never going to be part of generation 14. They'll be a 23. Or higher. So there's no practical way to level the playing field all at once. But if we can discover new forms of birth control that Breeders aren't yet resistant to, some of them can choose to delay having children."
The interviewer thanked her for her time, and then Bella was off, out the studio door, to where her transport pod waited to take her home.
When she arrived at her penthouse suite, Bella stripped immediately. She had to wear her slim-suit for her public appearances, to flatten down her breasts and squeeze her thighs into shape, and make her look more like the Elite she was. She could never completely eliminate her curves, but with her slim-suit on, it looked more like her father's stocky build. But it made it harder to breathe, and where her base layer rode up, the slim-suit fabric irritated her skin, leaving red bands around her wrists.
Bella pushed a button, and her tub filled up, at just the right level of heat. Sliding into it made her gasp. It felt like a lover's embrace, or what she imagined that might be like. She found herself getting aroused, and slipped a hand down between her legs, finding herself sensitive and ready to be touched. This was her vice, her indulgence. She knew just how to rub her clit, to bring herself to a delicious shaking orgasm, and at the very end, she slipped a finger inside of herself, feeling her vaginal muscles clench and unclench around her fingertip. That was always the icing on the cake, so to speak.
When she got out of the bath, she tested her fertility, using a device she borrowed from the lab. It showed that she was ovulating and fertile. It was a familiar result, but still disappointing. It meant she had to keep being careful.
She still took the pill every day, but at this point, she mainly did it because she didn't want anyone to find out she'd stopped taking it. Or why. She figured it was probably an environmental factor that was making the pill less effective over time, both within the Breeder population and in Elite families like hers.
When she was a little girl, all the girls in her class had teased her for being the first one to develop tits. When they grew into thin, boyish teens, like an Elite girl is supposed to, and she grew thick and curvy, they called her a Breeder constantly, and she hated it. She stayed away from boys all through school, because she knew she'd get teased even worse if those girls caught her in a compromising situation. She hated how she looked, even though she also knew it wasn't her fault.
Bella would never be a Breeder, she'd never let someone call her that, but she also understood how cruel Elites could be, and how little choice Breeders could have about what they were.
The doorbell of her suite ran, breaking her out of her reverie. It meant someone had gotten past the building's front desk staff, and was waiting at her door. It had to be someone they recognized. Bella wrapped herself in a bathrobe and went to answer it.
Her accountant, Stanley 19, was looking dour. He was a somewhat older man, though Bella had never asked his age, never had that much of an interest in him.
"I'm sorry to drop in on you unannounced," he said, as his eyes wandered her from head to toe. Bella realized that the thin fabric of the bathrobe put her curves on full display. "...but I came about a timely matter, and one that I think we should discuss in confidence."
"Come in," Bella said.
He didn't say anything more until she finished closing the door behind him.
"Bella, I have some bad news. There's been a claim made against you, regarding your inheritance. They're alleging that you're not eligible."
"What? I've inherited three shares already! Meanwhile I haven't had a baby, and I'm definitely not pregnant--"
She knew the conditions of her inheritance inside and out. Starting at age 21, she was going to inherit 10% of the company every year until she turned 30. Unless, that is, she got pregnant before then, in which case it was all forfeit.
Bella would've had to share the company with her older sister, but Lila got pregnant at age 28, a decision Bella would never understand. And because Lila 13 had her children with Robbie 15, their children would be ineligible to inherit too--the family bylaws said that inheritance could only go forward by one generation at a time.
Lila only had to wait two more years! Why was that so hard? Bella was coping just fine, and she had another seven years to go still.