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Verse
Star
- Joined
- May 8, 2011
The city was seething. Around midnight, a handful of hours ago, the current government lead by a particular volatile but overwhelmingly popular party had gone through with its foremost campaign promise. A bill that immensely revoked women's rights in society. The court had thrown out cases that used to be beacons for women's rights, and policies were put in place to 'protect men' in the eyes of the law. The boy's club had pulled rank and pulled through for all the brothers. It had been televised and the tabloids had been following it closely, with fantastical headlines that tried but could never be as sensational as the truth. It was decided, it was signed, it was executed. It was announced.
Now, on a normal working Wednesday, people's hearts and lives were still adjusting. Everyone still needed to go to work, so the capitol had already started its bustle. At first it didn't seem too out of the ordinary, the concrete soon crawling with life. But already in the subway, if you cared to look, there were women having to keep quiet when men were groping them openly. The new uniforms for the baristas of large, country-spanning cafes had changed to little more than an apron and cheeky shorts, and the girls who had to make their living as a bike delivery zipping through the city streets, well, with what they were made to wear, maybe they should marry their saddles because of how intimate they got.
But the structures were still the same. One such as the William Corporation, part of the economic backbone of the country, with many international branches. It's city headquarters was a hulking rectangle made out of glass and beams, crowned with its blue W emblem. This early, there were no clients in, international or not. Just the workers preparing and warming up the offices. All kinds of things needed to happen to grease the cogs of this giant machine. And one of those things was a steady supply of warm bodies to do the work.
Recruiting happened at Will Corp at this hour.
If you found yourself in the personnel waiting room, perhaps to see the head of staff himself, Director Kiro Sawyer, and your desired position was an assistant job, you would be seated on one of the cushions in a simple but sturdy couch. Two other women had left as you arrived and three others were vying for a spot, both on the couch, and, of course, the one by the director's side, if they got the job. The waiting room was spacious, overlooking the city at the middle tier of the skyscraper. The scent of cleaner hadn't quite gone from the cleaning staff's recent good work, and there was a coffee station in a corner, where the large window and a wall met. Grey and brown and white tones, with the odd accent of green, both in art and plants. A measured first impression; a bit minimalistic but not cold.
The woman who showed you was in full accordance with the bill, named The Issue Initiative, with her tall heels and short skirt, showing exactly one quarter of her buttocks, and jacket with nothing underneath but her breasts, held in place with the one button. Upon the table you were told to take the form, and fill it out. She would come to collect when you were done.
Employment form, support staff Director Sawyer.
We welcome you to your application process. Will Corp is in accordance with The Issue Initiative.
Name
Age
Height
Cup Size
Waist
Color of labia
Relevant education
Subjective thoughts on the need for female intelligence
Spirit
Eagerness to please
Relationship status
Underwear yes/no
Loyalty
Sexual activity/willingness
And then, not too long after you handed in the sensitive information, you'd be called into a second office, guided by the woman who'd shown you in from the elevator. Following her, it'd be abundant by the bounce of her ass, that there was nothing protecting her under the already skimpy skirt. The new office would be even simpler. A table and a chair for you. On the other side; a man in a painfully well tailored gray suit and blue shirt. Young for his obvious position of power, and a jawline to match; elegant rather than Neanderthal. Rich, testosterone riddled black hair and eyes.
It was obvious by the tension in the room that the bill had full effect here.
Now, on a normal working Wednesday, people's hearts and lives were still adjusting. Everyone still needed to go to work, so the capitol had already started its bustle. At first it didn't seem too out of the ordinary, the concrete soon crawling with life. But already in the subway, if you cared to look, there were women having to keep quiet when men were groping them openly. The new uniforms for the baristas of large, country-spanning cafes had changed to little more than an apron and cheeky shorts, and the girls who had to make their living as a bike delivery zipping through the city streets, well, with what they were made to wear, maybe they should marry their saddles because of how intimate they got.
But the structures were still the same. One such as the William Corporation, part of the economic backbone of the country, with many international branches. It's city headquarters was a hulking rectangle made out of glass and beams, crowned with its blue W emblem. This early, there were no clients in, international or not. Just the workers preparing and warming up the offices. All kinds of things needed to happen to grease the cogs of this giant machine. And one of those things was a steady supply of warm bodies to do the work.
Recruiting happened at Will Corp at this hour.
If you found yourself in the personnel waiting room, perhaps to see the head of staff himself, Director Kiro Sawyer, and your desired position was an assistant job, you would be seated on one of the cushions in a simple but sturdy couch. Two other women had left as you arrived and three others were vying for a spot, both on the couch, and, of course, the one by the director's side, if they got the job. The waiting room was spacious, overlooking the city at the middle tier of the skyscraper. The scent of cleaner hadn't quite gone from the cleaning staff's recent good work, and there was a coffee station in a corner, where the large window and a wall met. Grey and brown and white tones, with the odd accent of green, both in art and plants. A measured first impression; a bit minimalistic but not cold.
The woman who showed you was in full accordance with the bill, named The Issue Initiative, with her tall heels and short skirt, showing exactly one quarter of her buttocks, and jacket with nothing underneath but her breasts, held in place with the one button. Upon the table you were told to take the form, and fill it out. She would come to collect when you were done.
Employment form, support staff Director Sawyer.
We welcome you to your application process. Will Corp is in accordance with The Issue Initiative.
Name
Age
Height
Cup Size
Waist
Color of labia
Relevant education
Subjective thoughts on the need for female intelligence
Spirit
Eagerness to please
Relationship status
Underwear yes/no
Loyalty
Sexual activity/willingness
And then, not too long after you handed in the sensitive information, you'd be called into a second office, guided by the woman who'd shown you in from the elevator. Following her, it'd be abundant by the bounce of her ass, that there was nothing protecting her under the already skimpy skirt. The new office would be even simpler. A table and a chair for you. On the other side; a man in a painfully well tailored gray suit and blue shirt. Young for his obvious position of power, and a jawline to match; elegant rather than Neanderthal. Rich, testosterone riddled black hair and eyes.
It was obvious by the tension in the room that the bill had full effect here.