Chapter 1: Prudence
Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Slow,
Desc: Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1: Prudence - Prudence Whiteside is a brilliant manager. She's also a competent small force commander, a talent she denies. Terry Sideman runs a company that can use all her skills. The time: the mid-twenty-fifth century. A lot has changed but some things remain the same.
She leafed through the magazine she had picked up at a news store. Mostly she read the journals and newsletters she subscribed to on the com rather than buying print. The cover had caught her eye.
Pru noticed a classified ad in the general marketing section.
International consultancy seeks M/F to train as partner in business and teaching fellowship. Must have excellent language skills: native English — fluent in one or more EU languages. Arabic or Chinese an asset. Heavy travel; challenging work environment. Salary based on skills, commitment. Send resume to CID...
"All those languages," she muttered. "Weird." She had French and German, and her childhood in China had helped; Arabic was the weak one. It was a strange sort of ad: it mixed both marketing and education.
She thought about it off and on, and finally decided to answer on a whim. Her job wasn't going anywhere; her boss was too young to die and too nice to kill. She keyed up her resume. She reviewed her education and language skills, updated her job experience as Chief Operating Officer at a small Web marketer.
After some thought, she added a paragraph:
PREFERENCES AND GOALS
Looking for challenging work in a non-challenging working environment.
She added her Common ID, scanned the CID from the newspaper to her remote, hit Send and promptly forgot about it.
A few evenings later, lounging in her living room, having shed her kilt, and wearing only a wisp to protect the furniture, the com chimed. The com screen was a sheet of luminescence that, when unused, appeared as a favorite painting on the one wall not covered with bookshelves or windows. The painting changed from time to time as her mood changed. Now the picture disappeared, replaced with the com system symbol.
Pru set down her book reader and said, "Voice Only". A man's face appeared on the screen and her remote sucked the CID, revealing his Common Identification information.
"What do you want?" she asked in the off-putting tone she used with evening com calls. Her friends were used to it and it helped put com salespeople off their stride.
"Is this Prudence Whiteside?" a man asked.
"Yes," she said shortly. The limited information in the CID did not appear to identify a salesperson and the image looked like a real person, not a computer image.
"My name is Terry Sideman. I have your resume — the one you sent in answer to my ad." Pru found her remote, and touched keys until the display confirmed the CID was the same one to which she had sent her resume.
"Yes?" she replied, less hostilely, but still not wanting to sound too encouraging.
"I'm sorry to call in the evening, especially when all the com marketers are out hunting. But, I wanted to chat with you and see if you're really interested in the position the ad mentioned."
Pru decided it was time to warm up a little. He had apologized for bothering her. "Look, it's all right. Sorry if I sounded hostile, it's a ploy I use to put salesmen off."
She keyed her remote to Show Face and her face appeared on-screen next to the caller's. The camera followed her face and neck when she moved. "As for the position you mention in the ad, it's pretty vague. What did you say your name was?"
"Terry Sideman. I'm president of Neo-Tantra Consulting near Nyack, outside of New York Sector. We do consulting and seminars on Neo-Tantra all over the world, and I'm looking for a qualified management person to help me with an expanding business. I'm also looking for someone who can become a key member of our consulting and teaching staff."
Pru interrupted. "Neo-Tantra? Tantra? That's the Indian system of sexual mysticism. You want a manager, teacher and consultant? For a sex school?"
"Good," Terry said, "you already know what the old Tantra is. We've developed a new form of Tantra — really very different. Have you read any of the old Tantric literature?"
"Well, I read one book. That is, I started it. It was 400 pages long, and I quit about halfway through. It was totally incomprehensible."
"I'll bet it was. I've probably read it, too, but really, the literature you can find is simply impossible to read and get anything useful out of. They planned it that way."
"Why, for god's sake?" Pru was warming to the man; he was rather interesting. Good-looking, too. The camera carefully followed her smiling face as she reached for her glass of wine and sipped. To herself, she wondered what this had to do with an executive appointment.
"Long ago, when Tantra was first developed, it was as an alternative to the more ascetic methods of escaping the Wheel of Life. Do you know about that?" Sideman seemed very focused, his good-looking face serious.
"Yeah, to stop being constantly reborn you have to attain enlightenment one way or another. Self-denial, good works, whatever. At least that's my take on Buddhism."
"Yes, well Tantra is found in both Buddhism and Hinduism," Terry responded warmly. "Actually, Tantra was originally a way to escape the Wheel by attaining enlightenment through perfect sexual union. Almost immediately, though, the powers that be tried to make it harder. In addition, they did it by re-writing the whole thing in code. So no one could do it easily."
"Dumb," said Pru.
"Yeah," said Terry. "Anyway, Neo-Tantra — that's me — I've spent some time researching and re-writing the whole Tantric thing, and Neo-Tantra teaches it in centers around the world. We're growing rapidly, and I need someone with serious management skills to help me."
"Hunh." Pru's skeptical tone matched her face.
"Look, I know it sounds odd, but I am serious. How about we get together and talk about it? This is a real job; it pays real money, and it's a real management challenge. Can you come to New York and talk about it with me?"
"Hold on. You don't know anything about me. All you have is my resume."
"Well, it's a hell of a resume, just to begin with. And, I called a guy I know in Ann Arbor, and he said you were one of the best in your Eastern Philosophy class."
"You talked to Dr. Stephanopolous? How is he? I haven't seen him in years. You didn't tell him what you're doing, did you? He's a terrible prude. He turned red if he had to mention sex. Spent no time on Tantra."
"No, of course not. He's fine, but his endorsement was sincere, and your record is great. All those languages make you a natural. Look, let me squawk you my PID. It'll tell you some more about me."
Pru nodded, and the com blinked to show it had received the coded burst of Sideman's Personal ID. The screen began to fill with data. What she caught as it scrolled by looked interesting.
"Thanks, Terry, here's mine." Pru pressed Squawk PID and the com blinked confirmation that comparable information had been transferred from her implant to Sideman's screen. She had, of course, defined in advance, what information she wanted sent in such situations. Only the authorities could see it all, and they needed a warrant.
Each of them spent a moment scanning the data on their screens. Terry's information confirmed what he had said, showed that he had the educational background for his subject, plus two related degrees and almost as many languages as she did. His physical and personal data were still locked. But, so were Pru's.
When Terry looked back to the pickup, he was smiling. "Man," he said, "I was right on the mark." The picture expanded to show him sitting at a desk, his strong, bare torso visible above the polished surface. Clearly, it was an invitation to respond in kind.
Pru thought it over for a fraction of a second and keyed Show All on her remote. The screen showed her sitting on the sofa, mostly knees and calves. She zoomed it to show herself from the waist up, mostly as he was.
Terry looked momentarily hesitant. "Um, can I ask a sort of personal question?"
"I don't have to answer if I don't want to," Pru said, "go ahead."
"It's your name. It's quite unusual, where does it come from?"
Prudence smiled; she had answered this before. "It was the name of an ancestor about 300 years ago. My mother was obsessive about family history and fixated on that one. I like it, even though it doesn't always fit me." She straightened and became more serious.
"So, what do you have in mind? When do you want me to come up there? Just what sort of management issues are you talking about? And, your ad mentioned teaching." She grinned lewdly. "Are you saying you want me to teach fucking?"
Terry laughed, leaned back in his chair. "Teaching is up to you, and there's a lot of theory to teach, not just mechanics: getting high on orgasms. The real issues are management ones. Recruitment and personnel is a big one — marketing, forecasting and resource management... When could you come?"
Pru liked orgasms; getting high on them was a great idea. "Well, I've got some time tomorrow. We could have lunch. How do I get there?"
"Take the long distance Metro to PennStation and then the local to Yonkers Portal. I'll meet you."
"What? You're OC? I didn't think Nyack was that far out."
"Well, Tarrytown-Nyack is a Controlled Area, but isolated from the Atlantic CA. Our building is in between and on the left bank, not in Nyack at all, really. But, it's Controlled too — makes for low-cost quarters."
Pru doubted that. The North American Atlantic Controlled Area stretched from eastern Canada to the tip of Florida, and in most places, extended far inland. A private Controlled Area didn't come cheap. Was that something fishy, or just indulgence? "Right. Hold a second, I'll get a seat." She opened a connection to the long distance Metro schedule and booked a seat on the 0830 train. Ninety minutes to PennStation, half an hour to Yonkers. "How's 1030 or a little after? Can we do that?"
"Fine," Terry said. "I'll meet you at the portal. See you then." He closed the com.
Pru closed her own com, but not before she looked carefully at the image that remained on the screen. She sucked Terry's IDs into her remote for use the next day, taking the time to review his details as she did so. Nothing out of the ordinary, except that he was not really an ordinary man.
'Ordinary men don't speak a half dozen languages and have advanced degrees in both clinical psychology and eastern philosophy, ' Pru mused, 'and the ones who do don't look that yummy.' She shivered slightly. Sobering, she thought, 'But, why put a sex school in a Locally Controlled Area?'