Implanted

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A future world where to get ahead you have to be implanted.
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This is a story in three parts, all of which are in this post. It starts rather slowly as it follows Donna Reynolds and her decision to be implanted so that she can be successful in the world. It is rather mild sexually, but somewhat upsetting in theme as it sets forth a fictional future world that may be less improbable than some would think. In fact, we may already be living in that world.

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WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2020 by The Technician.

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

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The Beginning:

Donna Reynold's nineteenth birthday had just passed. I-Day was less than a month away. She was rapidly approaching the most important day of her life. I-Day was exactly one year from the date of her graduation. She had to make her decision by then. I-Day was the deadline for her to decide whether or not she would be implanted.

It was quite an accomplishment for Donna when she graduated from her Third Level schooling. Only one third of the students made it that far. She remembered the culling when she finished First Level. At the end of First Level, the lowest one third of the students were selected as Drudges. Her parents had used the culling as a threat to make her study when she would rather be playing outside. "You have to study," they would say, "or you will end up a Drudge."

The Drudges did the lowest jobs in the city. Their government ID cards and video records said DRUDGE in the classification spot, but you didn't need to look at their ID to know they were a Drudge. Drudges always had a stupid grin on their faces. They seemed happy. And Donna knew they got married because there would be official notices in the news feeds. But there were never any kids in school from Drudge families so maybe they couldn't have kids. They lived in the big government housing project on the edge of town and came into their jobs every morning or every night in special underground busses to do cleaning and other jobs no one else would want. You normally didn't see them very often, but sometimes you would see them working in one of the big holes that are dug occasionally to work on pipes or whatever deep below the streets or cleaning up some mess on the street that couldn't wait to be cleaned up that night.

One day, when Donna's dad was particularly upset with her, he yelled, "Do you want them to fry your brain so you wander around like a slobbering idiot for the rest of your life?"

She didn't know if they actually fried the kid's brains who were culled out to be Drudges, but she did once run into a boy on the street whom she had known before he was culled. He didn't remember her, and he was... different. He was smiling, but Donna couldn't tell if he was really happy because it was that strange, stupid grin that all Drudges have. He was cleaning up dirt from the sidewalk from an emergency repair of some sort in the street. After she spoke to him, he said, "I'm sorry, ma'am, if I have offended you in any way, but I have to make this sidewalk clean." Then he beamed at her and said, "I'm the best sidewalk sweeper in my workgroup."

Donna just said, "OK," and walked on.

After the first culling, her parents changed their threats. They no longer threatened her with becoming a Drudge. Instead they threatened her with becoming a Worker. They would say, "Do you want to be a Worker struggling to eke out a living for the rest of your life?"

Workers did the low-level jobs in the city like bus drivers, waitresses, short-order cooks, sales girls in the stores and things like that. They stopped school after Second Level, or more accurately, they were culled and not allowed to continue to Third Level. There was no frying of brains or anything like that. And there were kids in school from worker families. Those culled to be Workers were just removed from school. Their government IDs were simply changed from STUDENT to WORKER and the culling was complete.

Without a Third Level education, the best a Worker could get were the lower level jobs. Some were happy with their lives. Others were not. One half of the students finishing Second Level were culled as Workers. That left one-third of the original class going on into Third Level.

There were no more cullings after that, but there was the selection and then the big decision. Would you become a Skilled Worker, or would you be implanted?

About half of the class had no real choice. They were destined to become Skilled Workers. But the other half of the class- the true amount varied from year to year- about half of the class was invited to become implanted.

For the chosen ones, after graduation was a one-year period of self-examination. The government granted each selected student a generous allowance so they could travel and see the world, or perhaps just go up into the mountains, or whatever. The idea was that they would see and experience life. It was a time to examine the world and oneself. Then at the end of that year the decision would be made. Would they become a Skilled Worker or would they accept the invitation and be Implanted.

Skilled Workers were just that. Their IDs said SKILLED. They made good money. They lived fairly well in the suburbs. They supervised assembly lines or built houses or even big buildings or perhaps they managed offices or were assistants to the bosses. Donna's parents were Skilled Workers.

The bosses, the owners, and all upper level management, however were implanted. In order to really get ahead in the world you had to be one of the Elites- the official term for the implanted ones. There were some who said that, even at this point, the government encouraged certain people to become Skilled Workers and others to become Elites, but if they did Donna was unaware of it. She did notice that she did seem to receive an awful lot of brochures explaining the benefits of being implanted. Of course, the brochures also explained what would happen if you didn't get implanted, but that was a much shorter section.

If you decided to become a Skilled Worker, government counselors would assist you in finding the proper training and job experience. If you chose to be implanted, the implant itself would "find your perfect position in Elite society." At least, that is what the section in the brochure about the implant promised. The back of the brochures also showed an image of a government ID with SKILLED in the classification blank and another image of an ID with no classification at all on it. Only the Elites had IDs with no classification. There wasn't even a space for classification on an Elite's ID.

Becoming implanted had many great advantages. There were actually two implants done several days apart. The first implant changed your body so that you aged very slowly and were immune from almost all diseases. The second locked you into your perfect career.

Being implanted guaranteed wealth and success. That was primarily because you became a part of the Elite Network. All of the implants were interconnected. Any one individual person was not truly aware of the giant network of brains, but it was there. The first implant connected you to the Elite Network, and that Network could sense your true skills and ambitions. From the information gathered by the first implant, the second implant was created specifically for you.

Once you received the second implant, your brain was modified by the Elite Network to optimize you for what you were born to be. Information that once was learned in Fourth Level schooling was simply downloaded into your brain. Changes in your personality and ways of thinking that once required years of experience were made automatically by the implant. In just a few hours, what had once taken decades to acquire was accomplished and in place. By the time you left the implant machine for the second time, you were ready to begin your long life as an Elite.

All of the great leaders of business and the military were implanted. Politicians were also implanted, but there was less control over a politician's brain and very few became truly great leaders.

Not normally spoken about were those people whose skill and purpose were primarily to support others. The wives of powerful men and the husbands of powerful women were also Elites. But the interconnected Elite Network had determined that their skills and desires were best suited for the role of supporting spouse- whether that be a same-gender spouse or a mixed-gender spouse- and that is what they became. Some were also selected to be high level personal secretaries or administrative assistants.

Also not spoken about or mentioned in the brochures was the risk you took when being implanted. All the graduates knew about it, but no one talked about it. The risk- the big risk in being implanted- was that what you would become was not known to you until after the second implant was in place. And then it was too late. That risk was why the government- actually the hidden Elite Network which ran the governments of the world- allowed the selected young graduates from Level Three one year to decide whether they wanted to become a Skilled Worker or become an implanted Elite and risk having to fit into the Elite Network wherever it thought was best.

Donna had used her year to travel the world. Maybe she should have spent less time on the beaches and in the clubs, but she still experienced many various businesses and observed the governments of many nations. After eleven months and fourteen days, she returned home, apparently ready to make her decision.

Finally on I-Day, Donna nervously approached the door to the local Office of Implant Supervision. Everyone in her class had already made their decisions. She and her best friend were going to come down together, but her friend's parents made her report the day before, so Donna was all alone.

She stood in front of the door for several minutes trying to make her final decision. Did she go in here or walk the short distance down the hallway to the Office of Skilled Worker Supervision? Her conscious mind was still switching back and forth between yes and no when her knuckles rapped sharply on the door. Her decision had been made.

Three months later:

Donna parked her shiny new company vehicle in the parking deck and rode the elevator up to the second from the top floor. She confidently strode into the spacious office and walked swiftly up to the administrative assistant- an Elite- who guarded the door of the Senior Manager of Apex Industries. Donna stood there in her tailored blue suitcoat with a slightly frilled, pale tangerine blouse and a pencil skirt that color-coordinated with both the blouse and the coat. It was obviously a very expensive outfit, but she could afford it.

"My name is Donna Reynolds" she said crisply once the assistant looked up at her, "I have an appointment with Mister Martin."

The woman made a big show of running her finger down the front of her display screen as she looked at an electronic calendar program of some sort. "Ah, yes," she replied dryly, "he has blocked out an hour for your meeting." She then looked back up at Donna and said, "Make your presentation brief. Remember, he does have other meetings today."

"I will remember that," Donna said as she side-stepped around the desk and walked toward the highly-polished oaken door. The door opened just as she reached for the handle.

"Donna!" a cheerful voice called out, "I remember you from Third Level. You were in sub-level Nine when I was in sub-level Twelve."

"I'm glad you remember, Mister Martin," she replied, "or should I call you Bill?"

"I think it should remain, Mister Martin," he answered, "just to help us both remember that this is a business meeting."

"As you wish, Mister Martin," she said as she walked over to the small couch and set down her coat. She then turned and said, "Where shall we begin?"

"I think you should finish what you started," he replied.

"As you wish, Mister Martin," she answered, unbuttoning her blouse and setting it on top of her coat. Her pert breasts, kept firm by the programming in the implant, needed no bra for support.

She stepped out of her heels and then opened the long zipper on the side of the pencil skirt, allowing it to slide unimpeded to the floor where it formed a small circle around her feet. Clients usually liked that effect, and Bill Martin was no different. She was naked beneath her clothes.

"Now, where shall we begin?.. ... Mister Martin," she repeated smiling at Bill and looking directly into his eyes.

"You were the best cocksucker in town when you were in school," he said. "Let's see if you have improved on perfection. And then I want to bend you over my desk and fuck you senseless from behind."

"The customer is always right," she said sweetly as she stepped out of her shoes, padded naked across the deep carpet, and knelt between Bill Martin's legs. As promised, the implant had found the perfect position for Donna Reynolds.

Ten Years Later:

The party had been going on for hours. It had begun at seven with a social hour followed by an elaborate meal served in courses. Actually, it had truly begun in the morning with a picnic for all local employees. There were games and prizes for the children and free beer for the Workers. A noon meal was provided and following the meal, Molly Fairchild, the recently-promoted Assistant Senior Supervising Manager of Apex Industries had presented various achievement certificates and rewards to Workers for attendance or productivity or having been with Apex for ten, twenty, or thirty years.

The picnic broke up around four and then the Elite upper-level managers from around the world, who had been present and mingling with the Workers as part of the festivities of the day, were transported by limousines to Molly's palatial home for drinks, conversation, a meal together, and... entertainment.

Since the evening was to be much less casual than the picnic had been, time was set aside for everyone to clean up and properly dress for the formal dinner. The seven to eight-thirty social hour allowed time for some of the Elite managers to rest for a short while, or more likely, use their portable devices to catch up on any urgent matters at their plants or offices.

Dinner began precisely at eight forty-five and took precisely ninety minutes for all courses. Afterwards, when everyone was sitting around the table sipping after-dinner liqueurs, Reginald Luxly, CEO of Apex Industries addressed the gathering. He, too, spoke of meeting goals and productivity and even longevity with Apex, but no certificates or cash envelopes were handed out. The rewards for the Elites would be in the form of stock bonuses or company-provided trips to exotic destinations, but who received what was never openly discussed. In a less-than-unexpected surprise, he did hint broadly that when he retired next year, Senior Supervising Manager William Martin would be stepping into his position.

Not openly discussed was the true nature of the entertainment which would become available at exactly eleven pm when the band began playing and the party moved to the large tent erected in the spacious backyard of the Fairchild mansion. A few of the Elites slipped away early while people were still standing around talking after dinner. Various excuses were given, but the true reason was that they- or their spouse- wasn't comfortable with the entertainment provided. One of the realities of the Elite Network was that just because something wasn't spoken of openly, that didn't mean that everyone didn't already know. Not staying for the entertainment wasn't held against the Elites who left early... as long as they kept silent and spoke to no one- especially the press- about the true nature of Apex's yearly "World Conference, Dinner Party, and Dance."

The entertainment arrived precisely at ten fifty-five in three long black limousines and a luxury SUV. The limos had been rented for the evening, but the SUV was the personal vehicle of Miss Donna Reynolds. Like the vehicles of many high-ranking Elites, it was discreetly armored and the driver and front seat passenger were both armed bodyguards. There were no large, obvious signs on the vehicle, but if you looked closely at the front doors, next to the recessed handles was a small, black, rectangular plaque. It was the logo of the manufacturer before the car was specially modified. Now it held a small golden heart with the letters, "RPA" elaborately intertwined within it. Alongside the heart it proclaimed quietly in small gold letters, "Reynolds Pleasure Associates." In even smaller letters beneath that it said, "A Division of Apex Industries."

Donna had made the suggestion seven years ago to William Martin at one of their weekly "meetings," that she could manage an escort service much better than her current boss. She also suggested that it could be one of the many diverse companies which composed Apex Industries. He backed her partly because he thought it was a good idea... and partly because she promised that he would always be a complimentary account with no charge for personal services. The success of Reynolds Pleasure Associates made Donna rich beyond even her dreams, and helped make Bill Martin Senior Supervising Manager.

The arrival of the entertainers nearly doubled the size of the party. There were a few among the guests who would entertain each other, but most would avail themselves of the entertainment as they slipped away into one of the many private tents located further back in the more dim areas of the back yard. Donna Reynolds and William Martin, however, believed in leading by example. After the bevy of entertainers had mingled with the crowd and were getting acquainted by dancing with or talking with the high level Elites, she walked onto the stage next to the band and stood facing the wall of the tent.

She was wearing a black, spangled dress that molded to her body like a second skin. The sequins and small diamonds sewn throughout the dress flashed like small suns as she undulated with the beat of the music. William stepped up on stage behind her and stroked her shoulders for a moment before slowly pulling down the zipper which went all the way down to below the round of her ass.

After the dress gaped open revealing her perfect body, he gripped the top of the dress on both shoulders and pulled upward slightly. There was a series of soft pops as the snaps which held the shoulders together released. William held the two pieces of fabric in his hand for a moment, enjoying the sight of her body writhing within the partially-open black cocoon. Then he opened his hands and quickly moved his arms outward with his fingers held up and separated. There was a hushed gasp from the crowd as the dress immediately dropped to the floor and puddled at her feet. Her dropping dress trick still worked its magic.

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