corporate dystopia

It was a day like any other in a dystopian future. Zoe, the CEO of the tech startup Zoeindustrial, sat at her desk, observing the various internal reports of her company.

Her company, built by herself, with difficulty and a thousand vicissitudes, reached a certain point, and she realized she could trust no one, no one but herself.

Clone technology had already been perfected for several decades, and underdeveloped nations had no qualms about having problems taking her money to do what she wanted.

Slowly and inexorably, she had replaced all her employees with her clones. In a sick sense, they were her family, loyal to her in everything, willing to do anything to please her, in every way possible.

The first few times one of her clones flirted with her, she was amused. Over time, it became a routine, and gradually it became something I appreciated more and more—less of a joke and more of an attempt to seduce her. Then, a celebration of a major success unexpectedly turned into an orgy with her secretary and her top executives, and she abandoned all ethical boundaries. She considered each of her clones a potential lover. After all, she spent more time with her clones than with the rest of humanity, and they were determined to use their charm on her to gain a chance at establishing themselves in her company.

Her clones were, in fact, like her, hungry for success and willing to do anything to achieve it, but their loyalty to her was absolute. Sure, they could backstab each other, but they couldn't even think of harming Zoeindustrial and the original Zoe. On the contrary, each Zoe was obsessed with getting noticed by the Zoes who ran the company's top management, and especially the original.

Each Zoe was trained for a role, but if she wanted to advance, skill wasn't enough. Each of them strived for excellence, thus having to leapfrog one another to take over the various leadership roles that opened up as the company grew. A competition had developed where anything was allowed. Things like tricks, betrayals, and theft of merit occurred constantly, but at the same time, no Zoe could be fired—after all, they are property. At most, she could lose her role, ousted, and be pushed down the hierarchy by someone more competent or daring.

A perfect system that had been self-perpetuating for years, even now, as she squinted through the reports, one of her personal assistants displayed her usefulness and obsessive love for her, kneeling under her desk with her head under her skirt, all to prove she was better than her previous assistant, whom she'd demoted when she'd been too busy trying to impress the rest of the management.

Each of her deputies had to alternate between helping her run the company and satisfying her cravings, which had been countless ever since she'd given in to indulgence, experimenting in every way possible. Zoe knew that her top executives did the same with their subordinates, subordinates with their subordinates, and subordinates at the rank and file used sex as a tool to curry favor with their superiors and climb the hierarchy.

But only the best of the Zoes could rise so high as to be the original Zoe's lover, to the point that being her assistant was no different from being her second-in-command.