Future

He left the office and hit the down button for the elevator, thinking of nothing but where to grab lunch. He had a handful of favorites, mostly chosen based on what sort of food he felt like; all of them featured fully nude servant girls, and sometimes the variety among them was also a factor.

He heard the approaching elevator, then voices. The doors slid open to reveal two girls in the car, who fell silent immediately upon seeing him.

They were clad in standard business wear: feminine mini-dresses and heels so steep that the girls were nearly on their toes. Both had waist-length hair, trimmed for neatness but never shortened. The brunette, whom he had seen around the building a few times, sported an off-the-shoulder frock in red with white polka-dots. The redhead, new to him, wore a pretty calico print, with lace trimming the cap sleeves and hem.

As the car resumed its descent, he placed a hand on the redhead’s thigh and slowly slid it upward, until he was lifting her dress. When his fingertips found her panties he pushed them under the edge, and soon had one bottom cheek well in hand. He gave it a few squeezes.

Both girls were young enough to have been born after the passage of the Patriarchy Restoration Act. Neither would even imagine objecting to his authority.

“Nice ass,” he observed.

The girl replied, “Thank you, sir.”

He pulled his hand out of her panties, allowing her dress to fall back into place. He turned it palm-upward in a gesture any girl would recognize. The subject of his attentions promptly crossed her wrist over his, and a faint tingle signaled to both of them that her profile had been transferred: contact information, biography, sexual experience, and so on; his cryptographic token — proof of meeting, validation for further contact — went to her. At the moment, he checked just one essential profile item, her status: Never Owned.

The doors opened. “I’ll look you up soon,” he said.

“Thank you, sir.”

They all left the building. As he watched the girls walk away, admiring their legs, the redhead glanced over her shoulder, smiled, and did a quick pirouette. Her dress lifted up and out to give him a charming view of white lace panties and tempting curves, accompanied by another bright smile.

The day was clear and warm, perfect for a walk, so he decided on the Black Rabbit Pub for lunch. The food was good, and the servant girls all wore bunny-tail butt plugs, a sight he particularly enjoyed.

While he waited for his lunch order, he perused the redhead’s vitals on his retinal display. Haley was her name — pretty. She had a class AAA fellatio certificate, he noted with interest, and was working on her AA-levels.

He sent a Service-Opportunity packet to Haley's Direct Internal Messaging address. Within the statutory five minutes, she would reply "No, thank you, sir" -- or grant unlimited consent to anything he could imagine. He felt confident, since she had already flirted a bit.

Some hard spanking — it wasn’t just a nice ass, it was a great one — and some vigorous face-fucking would make for a lovely way to get acquainted.

— Frenulum