Fantasy Sex Culture in the 23rd Century

"Reproduction is not ideal for her either, but for different reasons. She is only five feet and zero inches in height, which is suboptimal by two inches. Genetic testing of her eggs indicate she is highly likely to produce offspring of similar height."

"I saw that as well. Recommendation?"

"If we pair her with another man, the same problem may result. But if we turned her to women, she could lead a quite satisfied life, while satisfying a socially powerful constituency of the Community," said Madison.

Maoina considered that proposal. "I like that line of thought. Yes, let's try that. At the moment we have a four percent sexual deficit imbalance of lesbians in the Community, so Ms. Ngo could help fill the gap quite nicely." Maoina sighed. "We always have more heterosexual women than we need. I always tell the Central Genetics Planning Commission that, and they always produce too many heterosexuals in the next generation. But do they listen to me? No. We have women programmed to please men, women programmed to please unicorns, but we can't produce enough women to please women. Frankly, if I achieve a little more seniority in the Central Genetics Commission's Policy Planning Directorate, I plan to put a few reforms into effect."

"I'm sure you'll handle executive decision making with admirable grace and skill," said Madison.

"Thank you," said Maoina, noting and appreciating the touch of sycophancy. "But now back to Ms. Ngo. Let me look for a moment at her examination scores." Maoina studied them for a moment. Then she said, "Laura has encouraging malleability scores, but given her unprocessed background and her rather strong preference for men, specifically Mr. Diem, I think her first female will have to be someone rather... persuasive," said Maoina.

"I anticipated your request," said Madison. She pulled up a profile

"Mary Elizabeth Coca Cola. Ooooooh. I know her." And Maoina said the word softly, with raised eyebrows. "She's highly skilled. And she's had a very successful record in conversion therapy," said Maoina.

Madison said, "Anticipating your... approval, I've taken the liberty of creating a cover identity for Ms. Coca Cola in the Global Consciousness Women's Painting Collective. Everyone will say that she's been in the Collective for the past two years. If I put the script in their SleepTalk by tomorrow, they'll even believe it."

"Of course," said Maoina. "But can she paint?"

"Does it matter?" Madison asked.

Maoina laughed. "Probably not. All right. And what of the male, Manu Enterami, and the female, Rowenka Javanka?"

"The female is quite suitable for reproduction. She has the fresh genetic heritage that justifies your beacon project. There is nothing wrong with the male, but..."

"But what?" said Maoina.

"Breeding one with the other won't accomplish very much. Their genome will remain separate from ours. The best use of them is to break them up and pair them with individuals from within the Community."

"Quite right," Maoina nodded appropriately.

"I have brought up some profiles of some men we might pair her with while we disentangle his romantic interest in her."

"No, I think we have to take a different approach here," said Maoina. "Their love for each other is strong. We're not going to be able to simply seduce them apart from each other. I think there is a third way of going about it, gradually switching them over to a tripartite relationship, with an intervening male who will gradually assume dominance over the both of them. Then, once he's established, Mr. Enterami will end the relationship of his own accord."

"I'll cycle some profiles through the analyzer."

"Do that. We'll need a real alpha male type," said Maoina. "One who is outwardly non-threatening, but will subtly establish control."

"When do you want their drugs and SleepTalk conditioning to start?"

"Immediately, but gradually," said Maoina. "Start the harmony drugs at ten percent, and increase them by the same amount every day until we reach normative levels. We may have to keep an eye on Mr. Diem, he may require a higher dose."

"And the SleepTalk?"

"Start them on Community conditioning for a few days, stressing the importance of serving and satisfying the Community. Also put them on the beginnings of the specific paths we want them to take, and over time have that assume a larger and larger percentage of their SleepTalk sessions. Set them up for two hours a night of SleepTalk, followed by three after a week."

"Isn't two hours of SleepTalk a bit much to start with?"

"I think they can handle it. There is a lot of indoctrination that needs to take place in a short scope of time, if we are to make their psychological transition as seamless as possible. And while you're at it, start programming the Mindtech holovids to show them subliminal messages reinforcing the pairing matches that we have assigned for them."

"Very good."

Maoina looked happy. "If this experiment is successful, we can start to assimilate the odd corners of the globe which have escaped our attention, bringing civilization from one corner of the world to the other."

"It will be true joy, and true bliss," Madison smiled. "The Community just keeps making life better and better."

She smiled at Maoina. Maoina smiled back. Something sparked between them.

"Would you like to take an Unrest Room break?" Madison asked.

"Perhaps later," said Maoina. "You still have a lot of work to do."

"You all are so lucky," said Janet Taco Bell, as they walked on the slidewalks. Above and around them were the gleaming crystal buildings of OrgyFree, under the giant crystal dome which encompassed them all.

"To be hear, yes," said Manu, trying and failing to take in all the strange sights around him.

"That too, but that wasn't what I meant," said Janet. "You have a very rare and unique honor to have Maoina Bin Laden be your Controller."

"Why?" Laura asked.

"Because Controllers at her level don't usually manage individual citizens," said Janet. "They're more concerned with the needs of the group."

"Then why is she doing this?" Rowenka asked.

"It appears she has taken a special interest in your well-being," said Janet. "The Community cares. The Community wants you to be happy. Remember, community is you and me, us and we."

"I don't understand her title," said Fredrik. "She's called a Controller. I don't want to be controlled."

"Oh, it's not meant in that way," said Janet. "Think of Maoina as your helper. She helps you find your way to happiness. Anything you want, you can get through her."

"Anything?" said Manu.

"Anything," said Janet definitively. As they slid on the slidewalk, they passed by someone Janet knew.

"Hello, how are you, Samantha Home Depot? I am fine," said Janet.

"Hello, how are you, Janet Taco Bell? I am fine too," said the young woman as she passed them on a slidewalk heading in the opposite direction.

"Why do you have such unusual names?" Fredrik asked.

"Unusual?"

"Home Depot. Taco Bell. What kind of names are those?"

"They are names from the past," said Janet. "They were names that had power and influence in their day, in an economical, sociological, ethical, or even gastronomical sphere."

"Gastronomical sphere?"

"Food assumed an oversized important in the lives of pre-civilized cultures," said Janet Taco Bell. "In some subcultures, food was all people talked about. We assumed those names to culturally appropriate their power into the Community."

"What kind of... person was Taco Bell?" Rowenka asked.

"I do not know. Knowing is a burden for others," Janet smiled. "Let others do the thinking, we'll do the living."

As they travelled, Fredrik looked at other people. They all looked healthy, even the older citizens. At first he thought that men were mostly dressed in blue tights, like he was, and that women were dressed in pink tights, or dresses and skirts of different colors and sizes. But then he saw first one man, and then another, dressed in a pink dress, and he laughed.

"What?" said Manu.

Fredrik pointed to a third man, this time wearing a pink blouse and a pink skirt and pantyhose and high heels. Manu laughed too.

"Hey, what's going on?" Fredrik asked Janet. "You've got guys hear dressed lyke girls!"

"There is no 'girl' or 'guy' way of dressing here, Fredrik Diem," said Janet sternly. "That sort of gender stereotyping went out almost two centuries ago. "

"Why are they dressed lyke that?" Manu asked.

"It's probably their pink day," said Janet.

"Pink day?"

"It's part of their gender reparations," said Janet.

They looked puzzled, understanding every word she had said, but none of the meaning.

And then Laura noticed something odd. The women, all of them... they had something odd in their pants!

Everyone wore very tight pants here, so every curve was in display. And the women... the women had things, things that made bulges in their pants, things that seemed to pitch little tents between their legs. It looked like... it looked like... the women not only had penises, but they all had erections!

And then Laura looked at Janet Taco Bell and realized she had one too, what looked like a little pole in her pants, sticking out between her legs. It wasn't prominent, but looking directly at it, it looked very much like the imprint of the head of a penis.

She giggled and whispered something to Fredrik. Fredrik grew wide eyed and Laura laughed.

"What's so amusing?" Janet asked.

"N-nothing," Laura stammered.

"It looks like you've noticed my Chikdik," said Janet, giving an easy smile.

"Your.. your whot?" said Laura. Oddly enough, she was the one who felt embarrassed! They never talked about things like this in New Zealand.

"My Chikdik. Would you like to see it?" Janet's hand suddenly reached into her pants.

"No!" Laura cried, even as Janet's hand came out of her pants, holding a rubbery black plastic phallus.

Everyone stared at Janet's hand with fascination.

"What is that?" said Manu.

"My Chikdik," said Janet Taco Bell. "All women wear them."

Sure enough, every woman around them seemed to have a permanent erection.

"Whot are they for?" Laura asked, holding on to Fredrik's arm tightly.

"To promote gender equality," said Janet.

"Gender equality?" said Fredrik.

"Yes," said Janet. "In the past, men have walked around with bulges between their legs. They have used their anatomy to intimidate women. By wearing chikdiks, women strike a blow for anatomical equality."

"Anatomical...."

"Equality," said Janet. She slipped her Chikdik back into the snug pocket in her pants. They saw the illusion of an erection between her legs as she stood tall, squaring her shoulders, and speaking with confidence. "Don't I seem more commanding now, more authoritative?"

"Yew certainly seem more something!" said Rowenka. Manu laughed.

"That's all because of my Chikdik," said Janet.

"But your thing is different from ours," said Fredrik.

"How so, Fredrik?" she said, stepping towards him as Laura gripped his arm more tightly.

"Your thing is always....."

"Erect?" said Janet. She smiled with confidence. "It's another part of reparations. To compensate for all the centuries of oppression when we had nothing between our legs. The program, patterned on Affirmative Action, is called Affirmative Erections."

"And... yew oll have that in yer panties?" Laura asked.

"We all do," said Janet. "And soon you will too, Laura."

"Knauw," said Laura, shaking her head. "I will nevar-"

"We'll see," said Janet, giving a little smile as she turned away. "You must all be hungry after seeing my Chikdik. Come, let's have dinner."

Janet and her entourage arrived at a very futuristic looking cafeteria. There was an enormous wall filled with images of food. Literally dozens of different kinds of food.

"What....?"

"Just tell it what you want," said Janet.

"Anything?" said Laura.

"For now, anything," said Janet, smiling.

For a moment, they were paralyzed by choice. There were so many different kinds of food! Most had names they had never heard of.

Finally they made their choices.

"I'll have the roasted mole cauliflower with chickpeas," said Laura.

"I'd lyke the spinach quinoa cakes with garlicky yogurt," said Rowenka.

"I'll take the chicken skewers with tzatziki," said Fredrik.

"I'd lyke the golden curry lentil soup surprise," said Manu.

"A good choice," Janet smiled. She raised her voice. "I'll have the same."

"How long will it take to prepare?"

"No time at all," said Janet. They walked forward to a counter and found five steaming trays filled with food, waiting for them.

"How is that possible?" Rowenka marveled.

"Autosynthesis."

"Where are the forks and knives?" Manu asked.

"Those won't be necessary," Janet said, somewhat mysteriously.

They got refreshments and made their way to the end of the counter line, where there was a prominent metal hand that came out of the countertop.

"What is that for?" Manu asked.

"Payment," said Janet. She approached the hand.

"Identify," came the soft voice they recognized. It was the same one they had heard in the examination booth, the voice that called itself Ted.

"Janet Taco Bell," said Janet.

Ted responded. "Janet Taco Bell, recognized. That will be seven Malcolm X dollars and forty Lenin cents, Janet Taco Bell."

Janet reached out and shook the hand. "Eat hearty, sister," said the voice, shaking up and down with the mechanical hand.

"What was that?" Fredrik asked.

"I just paid. You do the same,"

Fredrik reluctantly stepped forward.

"Identify," said the soft voice.

"I'm Fredrik Diem," said Fredrik.

"Fredrik Diem, recognized. That will be six Malcolm X dollars and two Lenin cents, Fredrik Diem."

"I... I don't have any Malcolm X dollars," said Fredrik.

"You do now," said Janet. "Go on, shake his hand!"

Fredrik shook the hand. It felt oddly warm. The hand gripped him tightly, and for a moment, would not let go.

"Eat well, eat nutritious. Nourish your young, healthy organs for the Community," said Ted's voice, and the hand released him. Fredrik pulled back, feeling like he had just been verbally molested.

"You'll get used to it," said Janet.

Fredrik looked at the metal hand, which undoubtedly had touched hundreds, if not thousands, of other hands before his. Then he looked at his own. Suddenly, he had the urge to wash his hands, from the sense of revulsion at having indirectly touched so many people at one time.

But little did Fredrik know that clean hands were not necessary for a meal. He would find that out soon enough. Meanwhile Laura had just finished paying.

"That will be five Malcolm X dollars and two Lenin cents, Laura Ngo" said Ted, as he shook her hand tightly. "Feel the food inside you, nourishing your healthy female ovaries, Laura Ngo," said Ted, as he let go of Laura's hand.

"T-thanks," said Laura, also feeling somehow that she had just been kind of voice-raped.

When the others had paid, they made their way to a table. There were many people in the cafeteria, all talking and enjoying their meal. The five of them put their trays on the table and sat down. Immediately, they involuntarily jumped back as metal arms came out of the table, armed with forks, spoons, and knives.

Fredrik watched as the metal arm cut off a piece of a chicken and raised it to his mouth. What was he to do now?

"Eat," came Ted's voice, out of nowhere.

Fredrik looked confused.

"Eat," the voice insisted.

Fredrik opened his mouth, and the fork pushed the chicken into his mouth.

"Chew. Swallow." And then, "Goooood," said the voice.

"Is it olways going to comment on my eating?" said Fredrik, making a face.

"Your status is set to learning mode, as if you were a child" said Janet. "Once you get used to the system, it won't be so... instructive."

The fork came up to his mouth again with food.

"Can't we feed ourselves?" said Fredrik.

"Eat," said the voice.

"There's no need to feed yourself," said Janet Taco Bell, taking a bite of food put into her mouth.

"But I wont to feed myself," Fredrik insisted.

"Eat," said the voice.

"Whyever would you want to feed yourself? That's so primitive!" Janet asked.

"It's what Ay'm used to," said Fredrik.

"Eat," said the voice. And then the fork moved forwards, and inserted the food into Fredrik's mouth. He started to chew automatically.

"Good Fredrik, you did that so well," said Ted, his tone full of praise.

Fredrik looked at the others. They were letting themselves be fed.

They were able to talk while they ate, as long as they didn't wait too long to chew and swallow.

"Do yew lyke it here?" Laura asked Janet.

"Of course! Everything is perfect. The Community makes sure of that," said Janet. "From cradle to shredder, it just keeps getting better and better."

What an odd thing to say.

"What exactly is the Community?" Manu asked.

"The Community is all of us, together. It is Oneness. It is the Global Flesh. It is the perfect embodiment of social welfare, a perpetually caring population welfare mechanism devised over a century of progressive psychological experimentation," said Janet.

"Does the Community ever make mistakes?" Fredrik asked.

"No, how could it? It is the manifestation of thousands of the best minds. So many great minds can't make a mistake," said Janet, eagerly eating more of the food which had been put in her mouth.

"But what if yew disagree with something the Community does?" Rowenka asked.

Janet looked puzzled. "Why would I do that? Let others do the thinking, we'll do the living."

"But what if yew don't lyke something the Community does?" Fredrik asked.

"But the Community operates in the best interests of its members, and I am a member of the Community, and I want what is in the best interest for everyone, so how could I ever disagree with whatever the Community decides?"

Fredrik was left to puzzle that one over the rest of dinner.

After dinner, Janet took them to their apartments. "They are right in this building. You'll be eating here every day."

"We're not going to eat in our apartments?" Laura asked.

"No, that would be unsocial and anti-Community," said Janet, making a face. "But you're really lucky. The units in this building are some of the most luxurious and largest in this part of OrgyFree."

They rode up a lift to the 59th floor. It was a tall building, with over 80 floors. The views must be incredible.

When they got out, they stared down a long hallway. There were doors on either side of the hallway, spaced very closely together. Were these broom closets? All of them?

"Which ones do we go to?" Manu asked.

"Just look for your names and faces."

Sure enough, on each door was the projection of a face and a name. They walked down the hall until they saw four doors, two on each side, with their faces and names on them. It was eerie to see their faces staring back at them; more so because they were smiling broadly. Exactly when had such holophotos been taken?

Fredrik found his door. "How do we get in? Wait, let me guess. We just walk right up to the door."

"You're catching on," Janet grinned.

Fredrik walked up to the door. It opened obediently.

Fredrik stepped into a narrow, metal-colored room. It was very narrow and tiny. There was barely room for a bed on one side, and a closet on the other, along with a tall booth that reminded Fredrik of the one he had showered in upon his arrival. There was also a window with an incredible view of the city. He went to it, looked out, and saw buildings for miles and miles. What a view! He had never seen anything like it.

But turning around, he looked for something, didn't find it.

"Bathroom?" he said.

"It's down the hall," said Janet.

"We don't have our own bathrooms in what yew call one of the most luxurious buildings in the ceety?"

"It is one of the most luxurious buildings, and also one of the most socially progressive ecologically sound dormitories as well," said Janet. "Group toilets are very ecologically minded, and they encourage social bonding during discrete biological rituals."

Fredrik made a face, but said nothing. Even in Voh he had his own bathroom. He went to the closet, and slid open the panel. It was empty.

"What about clothes?"

"Not to worry," said Janet. She pointed to the booth. "The Manipulator will provide you with everything you need."

"Manipulator?"

"It's also a shower, massager, and a few other things," she winked.

Manu returned from checking out his own room. "Hey, my room has an incredible view too, but just one thing... there isn't enough space for me and Rowenka."

"Rowenka has her own room," said Janet brightly.

"But we're married, we want to live togethar," said Manu.

"I'm sure that can be arranged," said Janet. "In time." She added, "You must be tired. Go to bed any time you like. When you get up in the morning, I'll be here to take you."

"Take us where?" said Fredrik.

Janet blinked. "Why, anywhere you want to, of course," she said. "The Controller has indicated that I am to show you the best of OrgyFree. She wants your assimilation to be as pleasant and painless as possible."

"That's... nice of her," said Fredrik.

"Let others do the thinking, we'll do the living." Janet Taco Bell turned to go.

"Once last thing," said Fredrik. "How do we work the-"

"Ask Ted," said Janet, over her shoulder as she walked away.

"Ted?" said Fredrik. "Again?"

"Yes, Fredrik," said the deep, drugged sounding voice.

"Who or what are yew, Ted?"

"I am your very best friend," came the modulated voice.

Fredrik suddenly found himself exhausted, as if someone had flipped a switch in his brain. Manu and Rowenka left for their rooms, but Laura sat down by him, sitting on his small bed.

"Tired?" he said.

She nodded. "It's been a long day."

They both watched the sun setting outside the window.

"This is some place," said Laura finally.

"It really is."

"It's going to take some adjustment," said Laura.

"I expect so," said Fredrik. They were both wondering the same thing; could they adjust to such a radically different society?

"We'll try," said Fredrik, in response to the unspoken question. "If worst comes to worst, we can olways go home, right?"

"Right," said Laura.

More time passed.

"Are yew still awake, Fredrik?'

"Whot?" He had in fact fallen asleep.

"I would never do it," said Laura.

"Never do whot?" said Fredrik. Something was obviously on her mind.

"Go with another man. Or woman. Or whatever. Whatever Maoina was talking about."

"Good," said Fredrik. He put an arm around her, and they both fell asleep, sitting side by side in his bed.
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