Faith in the system

"So how is young Beth settling in?" Asked Mr Carter, giving a vague gesture towards the still red-faced and breathless femboy beside him.

The main course had been brought out now: a series of small plates of sizzling meats and char-grilled vegetables. The menu had even offered having a separate 'companion' to chew each individual dish for you, so their kisses would retain just that specific flavour. Neither diner was actually interested in such frivolities however. The point had been made and pointedly ignored… beyond that, both were individuals quite happy to use their own teeth, thank you very much.

"Well, I certainly can't question her… dedication." Madame Stanfield replied, offering the femboy herself a supportive smile.

"But, as you may have just noticed… There are certain aspects of physical manipulation and muscle memory, which just take much longer to build up. There might even be an age limit… on when such training can be begun. Past which what can be done may be… limited in scope. That is why the Algorithm begins making its adjustments so early."

She glanced at Beth again, with perhaps an apology… or perhaps just the sorrow of missed opportunities.

"Once the bread is baked one way, it can't be made dough again… so to speak."

Mr Carter seemed to absorb her words, and genuinely take them into considered thought. Looking his awkwardly shifting companion up and down with measuring interest.

"Hmmm… So what if the collars were applied earlier? They could be given to every child at a certain age, really… and set to only activate if necessary."

The headmistress looked startled, for just a moment. This was a suggestion she hadn't prepped for. Just how far did this man's ambition go?! She was beginning to realise his aim was not just to undercut her business… but change the very heart of their society.

"Surely that would go against the very fundamentals of Algorithmic Governance… A few rebellious undesirables is one thing but… The 10 councils would never allow it! The Statute of Overriding Principles would kick in!"

Derrick Carter rolled his focus languidly back around toward the woman he still hoped he might one day consider a… business partner. Parsing through her history in his long exile, she had been one of the few people ever to impress him. Ever to be considered a worthy equal and potential ally in the task he deemed so necessary. Yet, here in person; the ferocious woman still seemed so naïve. So trusting of falsehoods he had long ago seen through. It was… disappointing, really. Frustratingly different from how he’d hoped all this would go.

“I already have the backing of the councils… or at least, enough of them to matter. And I have two fully-trained and licenced Algorithm Technicians in my employ. They assure me our research is fully within the Statute’s shifting guidelines…”

The headmistress thought back to the two white-haired giantesses that had escorted Beth’s previous form into her office a month ago. Their unsettling demeanour and overt body modifications now made a lot more sense. How could he have possibly won the support of those who were supposed to be unreachable? Above the interference of these petty games of corporate politics.

With that infuriating habit he had, of seeming to read one’s thoughts. Mr Carter continued speaking:

“It’s simply a question of supply and demand… just as it ever was. The Algorithm knows that our current rate of… production is failing to keep up with its objective. Citizens are declaring themselves 'unfulfilled' in their weekly surveys. Those Drop-outs who reject their purpose create a gap in the market that its calculations cannot predict. The time it takes to train replacements only furthers the cost on overall satisfaction. You know how that balancing act goes… If the populist society columns are to be believed: one thumbs-down emoji on a spreadsheet too far and we’ll all be back to war and famine and nuclear missile silos. The world is crying out for a new breakthrough! And here she is!”

The man gave Beth an enthusiastic smack across her ass. Leaving the hand there to squeeze on it encouragingly. The tall, neon-coloured femboy beamed with pride… unsure what exactly she was being complimented for, but just happy to move on from her humiliating failure before.

While, across the table… Jesse felt Madame Stanfield’s hand idly trace across his own skin. There wasn’t a tremble there at all… but all the same. He could tell his mistress was less than happy. The woman he had so much faith in… seemed to be losing some faith of her own.