Subversive Materials

"Not at all, but I urge you to think about this. You have a choice here. You may choose to lie with me, or you may choose not to. It is entirely up to you. I am perfectly content to sit here and wait out the remaining time. In fact, I have plenty of other work I could be doing in the meantime. For you, however, this might well be the last true choice you ever make. You spoke earlier of creating memories, and so I ask you this: What sort of memory do you wish to take with you into that chamber. Our records state that you remain a virgin. Perhaps I am not your first choice of partners, but would you prefer Ronald Simmons? When all is said and done, will you not wish you had known what it was like to give yourself to someone freely? It may not be the most appealing of choices, perhaps, but it is a choice. I suggest you think it over."

They stared at one another for long minutes as she processed the truth. It was over, finished. This was real, this was happening. She had lost, and her life was ruined forever. Her eyes gazed over the administrator, unable to believe that she was even considering his so-called offer. He was OLD, for crying out loud. Middle aged, at the least. Forty, fifty, she couldn't tell. But he wasn't hideous. Plain, in a nondescript way, but not ugly. Not like Pervy Ron was.

The man sighed, then turned to his filings. One last choice. How did she want to use it?

He turned back as she rose, curious, but with a cultivated air of disinterest. Even standing at his side, Betty couldn't have said what she was doing there. Thoughts of attack crossed her mind, but she saw that the suppressor was trained on her and ready to activate at any minute. It wasn't until she was already on her knees that she realized she had made her choice.

Decide, she thought, and reached for his belt buckle. Her hand shook, but acted all the same. This was, perhaps, her very last choice ever. She hoped it was a good one.

The director could hear the thumps continue against the creche door even after he had sealed the tube shut. It was no surprise, even the most stoic became frantic once the end came. It would die down soon enough, once the process began. She had been a pleasant enough diversion, once she had overcome her reluctance. A shame that she should be wasted as a Joy Bringer, but he knew she would be popular in her new calling.

On a whim, he set the timer to forty eight minutes, and listened until her struggles died down to nothing. Roughly a year and a half, with only mild lingering effects effects. He had not been lying when he said that he admired her tenacity. With luck, she would be properly chastened by her sentence and emerge with a newfound respect for law and order.

If not, then nobody could say they had not given her a second chance to turn her life around.

He contemplated placing a reminder in his calendar eighteen months from now so that he might check on her progress, but ultimately decided not to bother. She had been a good enough lay, and a pleasant diversion, but little more.

He had other matters to attend to. This was, after all, just another day at the office.

Pushing it from his mind, the director tidied up his desk and pulled out the next file that needed attention.