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FREEDOM: Class Warfare
Part Nine
Graduation Plans
By Razor7826 (Copyright 2008)
Thoughts? Encouragement? Hate? Email me at Razor7826@hotmail.com. I’m always interested in hearing from my readers.
This story in no way reflects the views of the author. It is intended for the eyes of legal adults only.
The only reason I am here today is because I saw the future before anyone else did. I’m not smarter than my competition. I’m not a better businesswoman. And I am most certainly not a harder worker. I just got in the business on day one… and showed my upstart rivals not an ounce of mercy.
Trust me. It’s more that way.
-Lily Walter, CEO of Property Management Technology
A projected video filled the warehouse wall. Boys and girls dressed in green graduation gowns walked across a brightly lit stage with broad and innocent smiles, taking their diploma from waiting hands and posing for photographs.
Seven Saints High School Auditorium. Graduation Night. For decades it was a triumphant event, where the students, faculty, and families celebrated the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.
This year, however, was different.
The camera panned out, revealing seventeen empty seats among the graduating seniors, reserved for the failures that would never graduate.
Those boys and girls, with few exceptions, now sat in cages inside a distant warehouse, forcibly watching their missed graduations as cameras recorded their own responses.
Some cried.
Two yelled.
A few watched quietly.
Others slept.
Each reaction was unique in their own way, a subtle sign that within the broken bodies and demoralized spirits still rested unique souls.
“People really get off on this kind of thing?” asked Elizabeth Monseto to her special guest.
The woman beside her “You’d be amazed at the market for misery. Especially if the miserable are naked. Never, ever, underestimate an opportunity to generate profit.” The prison’s guest was Lily Walters, founder and Chief Executive Officer of Property Management Technology. She stood only slightly over five-and-half-feet, her hair shaped into a black bowl cut. She wore black-rimmed glasses and little makeup. “Once again, thank you for letting our people in to film this.”
“Oh, no problem. I love the notion of making them watch the lives they could have had. It will destroy them, over time.”
Lily froze in her tracks. “Please, Elizabeth, don’t say such vile things while I’m here. You shouldn’t be so intent on breaking them.”
Elizabeth snapped back. “These little worms deserve everything they get!”
“Don’t let your want for revenge blind way. Do you realize the gold mine you’re sitting on?”
“I’m not intent on making chump change.”
“Chump change? Are you that oblivious to the state of the world? Your game has made the news on every continent. Pictures of the human failures draw sympathy, pity, and prayers, while events like graduation and various anniversaries ensure that it won’t soon slip from the public’s eye.
“What does it matter how pissed the public is?”
“Sure, many, and probably most people regard you and your friends as monsters, but notoriety and fame go hand in hand. Do you understand how much people would pay to fuck Judy Goodheart? God, she might be the most famous girl in the world right now!”
“You mean make her a prostitute?” The conversation began to bother Elizabeth. She didn’t like being in the dark, led around slowly by a superior.
“Exactly! Or, almost, I should say. There’s so much more for you to offer than simple prostitutes.”
Elizabeth began to understand what Lily was hinting at, but parts of it still eluded her. “What’s the difference if we’re lending them out?”
“You’re ignoring the subtleties of seduction, Elizabeth. Most whores linger on street corners in the cold wearing next to nothing, giving whatever they can to scrape by an existence. But above that, there’s a higher tier, those that have spent years mastering the art form of making a man feel special. But here, here you have an opportunity for something else entirely. You own their lives, Elizabeth, and you can mold them in any way you see fit. Each of them can be their own fantasy, their own theme, tuned with years of training to be the absolute best that fetish has to offer. Think of it as the benefits of specialization without the barriers of human dignity.”
Elizabeth mulled over the offer. Since the moment she hatched her plan nearly a year ago, her only wish was to see the students of Seven Saints defiled and degraded, forced into deserved servitude, each of them on their knees begging for mercy that would never come. Now, another option sat before her, one that could turn her slaves into a source of continual income.
She didn’t need the money, nor did a few of her classmates, their families’ wealth so overwhelmingly large that they would never have to work a day in their, should they so choose. However, some did need the money, enough such that Elizabeth might lose a vote if that was what it came down to.
“Do you have any specific ideas?”
“Plenty, Elizabeth. Plenty.”
It would prove to be a long and successful business venture.
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