Recognition and Respect

"So, why... if you're so convinced this 'remarkable' piece of technology is going to completely sweep our market from under our feet… Have you brought it here, to show us ahead of time?"

The Academy's headmistress kept her tone steady and measured… Allowing only the smallest hint of ocean-deep, icy fury shine through. She continued to dip two, long fingers in and out of the naked feline form splashed upon her thighs, but the glint in that creature's eyes was half full of intrigue toward that question and half full of fear that those gentle insertions could turn vicious at a moment’s notice. As if playing the role of a cat so long had granted her the uncanny ability to sense a mistress's moods.

Derrick was in far too high spirits to recognise danger in his indefatigable hostess's manner, though. He flew back into teasing charm without a second's measure. That was, after all, the question which asked to be asked…

"Why, out of respect, of course! You have almost single-handedly made 'Stanfield’s Academy' a household name. A synonym for quality of the highest regard. A dream of joining your two-year waiting list to which every new entry to the collective of greatest wealth aspires. Your brand is certified gold. Don't think a simple man like me could ever try to dent or deny that…"

The man bowed low before the Madame once again, but this time there was some hint of honesty behind the sarcastic pretence. He had shown her his hand, dragging out the wealthy fools she relied upon into the undignified scuffle behind him… But now he ignored all them and came to her, personally, in hopes of being recognised as a potential equal. A not-fool. Someone who could just as easily be a partner as a rival.

"The process requires templates… perfect versions of every aspect of submission that could be imagined. And, once our consumer base is established, it will need a constant stream of fresh ideas… New inspirations and updates to keep our consumers engaged. With the 'Stanfield’s' name attached, no-one would doubt that what they are getting is the highest quality product. But, at the same time, it would free you from being so chained to the wants of each specific customer… you could experiment. Not just churn out the same meek and predictable young thing that the same old relics want to show off to the mansion next door."

That earned a raised eyebrow, at least. It was true that some of the… creativity had drained from the headmistress’s role, over the years. Once you got a name for reforming stale traditions into something new and superior… Soon enough everyone just wanted you to repeat those previous successes ad infinitum. Yet, for all his bluster: the man could not hide the fallacy in such a statement.

"So why would I choose to dilute that name that you commend me so much for building. What you are asking, in fact, is for my permission to mass-produce that which I have hand-crafted for so many years, is it not? Not to mention the… moral implications that you have completely skirted around. Is this not completely counter to the very concept our world is built on? Overwriting the very essence of who each individual is… just to ensure a supply meets a demand. Why would someone who cares as much about each of my little darlings as I do, want to associate myself with any of that?"

Mr Carter faltered again for a moment… as if having not allowed himself the consideration that she might make such a complaint. A certain cat smirked to see that in all this upstart's attempts to make himself out to be a twinned soul with the mistress of this house… He was not. Madame Stanfield was in the position she was not just from hollow ambition, but also because she genuinely believed that she was helping each of her young wards to become the best versions of themselves. Hers was a harsh love. A demanding love, perhaps… but love it still was.

The thin man recovered, though. An equally thin smile playing across his lips. Charm and charismatic speeches were his preferred tools… but he wouldn't have dared come here if they were all he could bring to bear.

"This is the future, Madame. Whether you decide to come along for the ride or not. I have already secured approval with those one needs to. The system remains intact. All we are doing is opening doors for those who unhealthily reject their true place and purpose, or aiding those who would fall short of their full potential. They are still there, behind the extra layer of personality matrix… you can simply consider it a form of technologically-aided method acting.”

He gestured towards the minor orgy going on behind him, Lizzy and the drop-out boy now well and truly encircled by laughing strangers and both already becoming coated in the various fluids of those who had already climaxed.

“Besides… it is not entirely up to you, as you well know. You can try persuading them that it’s not in the school’s best interest to jump in on the ground floor of tomorrow’s biggest venture… but we both know ‘moral qualms’ won’t make it that far as an argument.”

Madame Stanfield continued to glare with a sharpness that cut through stone, unwilling to show an inch of acknowledgement that what the younger man said was very much true. If the board turned unitedly against her, she would have to bend... or relinquish the school over to someone who would.

Still, Derrick Carter sighed, deflated. It would seem he genuinely had wished to simply win her over to his side. The admiration he flashed up and down the headmistress’s... striking... figure, was the most genuine thing she’d learned of him throughout this entire interaction.

“Look… At this point, all we’re asking for is a little ‘prototyping’ research. Let us install our collars on, say, a single class… so we can record some data and run some more tests. The safety of the whole process has already been completely guaranteed, but we need to know if all those special little quirks your ‘girls’ develop over their years of training can actually be transferred. In return, you will have complete access to inspect and input upon the further arcs of the business… and cut all ties at some further juncture if you so wish.”

The man gathered his coat and hat, indicating to the two giantesses that it was time to leave. Glancing at the medley happening on the other side of the room, and almost as an afterthought… he also offered:

“Oh… and why don’t you keep that young man I brought with me. You can keep an eye on him for any unforeseen issues I’ve failed to mention. I doubt you’ll find any…”

Then he simply walked away, neglecting to wait around and hear whether his offer was accepted. It would be… Madame Stanfield couldn’t pretend otherwise. Giving the board some indication that she was considering the proposals in full, was the best she could do for now.