Feed Your Head
Short Story, written when I was bored. Its Racy A Bit.
Today I turned eighteen, as required I’m reporting to the department for Young Women; The Job Interview. It’s a nice building, doesn’t seem that bad, I think that it’s possible to handle this whole thing and not break a sweat.
I wait in line, some half an hour; when my turn to speak at the front desk, they ask for my identification, they take a good look at it, run my chip in the computer system, and then tell me to wait in the green room with the others like myself.
It looks like they are going to talk with the other girls here as a group, seems like some kind of orientation to me. Maybe it’s not a big deal. I’ve never heard about having to do this before from other girls, so I don’t know what to expect.
We wait for almost an hour, then a man dressed in a military uniform walks in, and says, “Lets go, follow me in the debriefing room.” We get up, not like I brought anything with me, so I make for following the other girls into the next room.
We sit down in nice neat rows, and they play a series of videos that we are forced to watch regardless if we want to or not. Seems like basic rules and regulation kind of stuff to me. Most of this is stuff I already know; but they seem to be making a strong point about what the rules are.
I notice before the end of the the last video a woman standing outside the door to the room we are in, she looks tough; like she really means business. I Hope that there are no run ins with her, I would dread of having to face her after this kind of lecture we’re getting sitting here now.
“your cards have all been upgraded, your new id will be ready in five minutes; we just have to print them out. Please wait in the next room until your id is printed, then you may leave here.”
The man in the military uniform closes the projector and turns the light on so we can get up and leave the room. The girls are all going out the main door, I don’t see any sign of the rough looking woman so I follow them walking out the door.
“You, come with me.” The woman that means business takes me by the arm and pulls me to follow her down the hall. “I thought I was going with the other girls?” I ask hoping she will let me go. “No, not you; we want to have a word with you.” The woman who I notice is wearing a name badge that says: Lt Davis.
I follow the woman down the hall to an office. She motions for me to sit down, “Be quiet and listen.” she says, she walks around the desk and sits down in front of me.
“Your a smart girl, at least you look like a smart girl. You have good marks in school, and have passed all your tests, so far to date. We have another test for you to pass, then if we like you well enough; a job for you.”
She takes a payment card out of her desk, looks at it; runs it through the computer terminal at her desk and hands it to me. I look at it, it has my photo on it, and it says: “Platinum Card” on the front of it. I don’t have any idea what they want me to do with this. Are the other girls getting one of these? I ask in a whisper.
“No, we think you might be special. As of today the state owns your body in whole. You will do what we want you to do and you will do such without question.” I start to object, and the woman Lt Davis says: “Mind and body are one and the same, the state owns your body, as of today you belong to us. You will do as you are told to do or you will be killed.”
I keep my mouth shut and try not to look her in the eye. I look at the platinum card in my hand and put it behind my identification card. Then my courage picks up a little bit, and I ask her: “What do you want me to do?”
“We want you to go have some fun, go shopping. Buy some nice clothes, have some good food, meet some men, and have sex with them.”
I start to object, “I’ve never had sex before, I’m not even sure how to do that.” The woman takes a BlueRay disk from the desk, and says, “Watch this and follow the instructions. Now you may leave, we will be watching you; so do as you’re told and you won’t end up dead.”
I stand up, and Lt Davis turns her back to me, I walk out of the office and down the hall to where the other girls were, seems they didn’t get the talking to that they gave me. I don’t know, with tears in my eyes, it’s hard to see real good. The other girls look at me like I just got into trouble, and give me the cold shoulder.
We file out of the building and I drive home. No one is here.
I watch the video, it’s horrible. God I hope that I don’t have to do those things. I could never. The next day, I drive to the shopping mall, and walk into several stores, they ask what payment method I will be using, and promptly escort me out of the store, while pointing to the security guard. I walk up to the security guard and show him my platinum card, he takes me to the other end of the shopping area, where they scan my card and show me into a private shopping center I didn’t even know existed here.
Someone comes up to me, and asks to see my identification card, so I show them; they take the time to scan the chip and then with all due respect show me to the area I can buy clothing and accessories in.
It’s nice stuff. I mean, this stuff is things I’ve never seen in the shopping areas I’ve been in. It looks like luxury goods. I try on a few outfits and they seem to fit nicely. Maybe a little too well, they seem sure tight around my butt and breasts.
The shopping attendant helps me in picking out everything I need, and the thought that they are watching me terrifies me. What was that Lt Davis said, “You will do as you are told to do, or you will end up dead.” God, I don’t know if I can do this. This is scaring the living shit out of me.
I pick out five outfits and go to pay for the goods. I think this is enough for starters. The cashier takes the card, and runs it; then she frowns at me, and says: “Not enough, ten more.” I look at her and say: “Ten more what?” She says, “Ten more outfits from the private stock room.” She then hands me back my card and says: “Follow me.” I follow the woman and she walks through the store to the private stock room. This stuff doesn’t even look like clothes. I just look at her, finally I ask her to help me.
“I don’t even know what to get.” I say to her.
She helps me. We pick out things that seem like they would look best on me. But I’m not sure where I’m going to wear them. We take the goods to the counter, and I look at the outfits I had picked out in the first place; they seem very tame compared to what I just picked out.
The cashier takes the card and says: “Be back in a week for more clothes, you have a fifty thousand credit that expires in two months.”
I take the clothes home, and try on the makeup. I think it looks nice. But I’m not sure what I’m going to do with all this stuff. Then I play the BlueRay disk and watch the whole thing from start to finish. I follow the instruction as for what I was supposed to do to myself.
This somehow seems very interesting. The feeling I get from this is maybe its not going to be so awful after all. Still, I have my doubts, however the fear of Lt. Davis has made me a little tense, I don’t want to end up dead. I pack my purse, with a few things I picked up today, and dressed nicely in my new outfit, go to the side of town I was instructed to report to.
Written by Christopher Thomas, a 42bitpi Geek