“There is a way to keep your New Modesty subsidy, Lily,” the bank officer said, “even though you no longer qualify for the courtship program.”
No longer qualify, Lily Orton thought, disgusted. If that was what Selecta Federal Bank called telling the director of courtship for Long Valley to go fuck himself, fine by her. She had meant to end this exit interview—the one she needed to do if she wanted her final New Modesty check—after the check had been deposited.
Her handheld had just told her that the money had arrived. She could head out into the harsh reality of the crumbling world that lay past the cheery facade of the New Modesty town where she had, she thought bitterly, now finished wasting almost the whole of her nineteenth year.
Lily felt certain that whatever the man in the brown suit had to say must represent some further New Modesty idiocy, but she frankly had no idea how she would survive without the subsidy. Could it hurt to delay her ignominious exit a few minutes and hear what he had to say?
“Yes?” she asked as neutrally as she possibly could. Lily could certainly sound eager and responsible and ready for a challenge if she needed to—that was how she had gotten accepted into the stupid courtship program in the first place, after all. She looked at the sign on the desk to remind herself of the bank officer’s name, after having instantly forgotten it when he had introduced himself. “Yes, Mr. Vonner?”
“It’s another Selecta program,” he said.
Well, of course it was; the New Modesty belonged to Selecta, just like this bank and really at this point, Long Valley itself. The forms Lily had signed to get her free housing and her stipend had all said SELECTA at the top.
“But,” Mr. Vonner went on. “This one is an urban program. There’s an opening in Chicago.”
“An opening?” Lily asked, putting a very slight edge of hopefulness into her voice. Really her heart had leapt; coming to this suburb in the attempt to find a husband had never seemed like a good fit, though Lily had her romantic side. Having grown up in an educational facility in Los Angeles she had always felt much more like a city girl than a suburban one.
“Yes,” the bank officer replied. “The application process is really simple—in fact if you want I can just transmit your data to the program right now. You may be able to get an answer before you leave the bank today.”
Well, I’m probably leaving in the next thirty seconds, Lily thought, so that would be pretty remarkable.
“What kind of program is it?” she asked. “Is it a New Modesty thing?”
Mr. Vonner tapped a few keys on his computer keyboard, then peered at the screen. “Yes and no,” he said slowly. “It’s mainly for young women in your current circumstances—the New Modesty didn’t work for them…”
Lily suppressed a snort. That’s putting it mildly.
“…but their general profile shows someone who’s got potential to make a contribution. This program has an outside-the-home work component, unlike the courtship program you were in.”
The courtship-and-light-corporal-punishment program, you mean. Lily tried to keep the blush off her face, but with limited success. The memory was too new: the director of courtship telling her that the man with whom she had a second date the previous night could, yes, take her over his knee just as he had almost done, for saying “fuck.”
The courtship director’s sympathetic but decided expression… and, just behind it in her mind’s eye, the handsome face of the guy she had thought had real potential.
“I’m sorry, Lily,” he had said, sitting on the couch of her cozy but very nicely furnished, completely subsidized apartment. “I could make this unpleasant, I suppose—and I think some men probably would—but I’m not interested in dating a girl who’s not interested in having my guidance.”
Lily had swallowed hard, her cheeks ablaze. Guidance. She knew she needed it: career advice, emotional support. She also knew, however, that she wouldn’t ever willingly go over a man’s knee to get it. She had known what the New Modesty entailed—but she had also heard that if you met the right guy, you could have it all.
“So,” Chad Henry had said, “last chance. You said a naughty-girl word. You need a lesson. Come here and lay yourself over my knee, or tell me to go home.”
Lily had almost done it, too—had almost gotten up from her chair and gone to the big bearded man’s side. That made her blush the hardest, now. And it had made her tell the courtship director to go fuck himself, when he had called to tell her that she could either come to the Long Valley New Modesty authority office for a paddling or leave the program.
“So…” she said to the bank officer, intrigued almost despite herself, “like, what kind of job?”
He looked at his screen again, as if to verify the information he meant to convey. “You would start off with something very simple, like a coffee shop counter position or maybe an administrative assistant role in an office. This program isn’t as well funded as the New Modesty, so the basic stipend is less, but the men who participate also fund the girls they choose to date very generously, and…”
“Wait, what?” Lily asked. “Is this a… dating thing?”
Mr. Vonner frowned. “Yes, of course. It’s a different kind of dating, though, from New Modesty courtship. Lily, I’m a banker, not a counselor, so that’s all I can say. But if you’re accepted, you’ll learn a good deal more about it, obviously. Would you like me to submit your application data?”
Well, Lily thought, what the hell else am I going to do? I have one week to vacate my sweet little apartment here, and enough money—probably—to get a room in a crappy apartment, with a roommate, in the town crumbling away on the other side of the railroad tracks. Unknown job program with generous men involved sounds just fine.
Five days later she signed for her new apartment—at six hundred square feet smaller, but almost as nice as her place in Long Valley. They had even put her up in a moderately fancy hotel for a night and let her choose from three different apartments in downtown Chicago.
When, surprised at the relative opulence of the first place, she had asked Nadia, the program officer, “And this is fully subsidized?” the woman had nodded, smiling.
“The executives who fund our girls’ allowances expect to have a nice apartment where they can see them at their convenience—and they expect to be able to meet up with our girls downtown, where they work.”
“See them?” Lily had asked.
Nadia had nodded again. “Yes. These are busy men. They’ll take you out for dinner and drinks a good deal—they want to be seen with you, of course—but when they bring you back to your place they expect a certain level of comfort.”
A little distracted by Nadia saying they want to be seen with you, Lily had caught a glimpse of herself in a wall mirror opposite a picture window, then. She had seen herself framed against the urban skyline, a very pretty nineteen-year-old, yes: honey blonde wavy hair caught in a loose ponytail, blue eyes in a heart-shaped face, a slim figure with B-cup breasts supported by her favorite lacy bralette, whose straps showed rather sexily through her white t-shirt.
A trim but rounded backside, shown off nicely in the skinny jeans that she suspected had made Chad Henry a good deal more inclined to call her out about the naughty word.
Now, in Nadia’s office, she hardly read the contract she signed. The program officer had explained it to Lily in a way that made perfect sense: she would have a few days to settle in at her new job as a barista in the coffee shop in the lobby of an office building a block away from the apartment she had chosen. Then her profile would go up on the Selecta Arrangements site, and she would start to receive inquiries from men, asking her about her profile and—if their interests seemed to fit—setting up a ‘meet and greet’ date for drinks or coffee.
After that, the relationship—if a relationship developed—would be up to Lily and the man who had chosen her. He would pay the basic allowance determined by the program, if he felt the relationship was progressing to his satisfaction, and Lily would have spending money. Otherwise, she would have her apartment and the small salary from her job.
“You understand,” Nadia said now, her forty-or-so-year-old face serious and full of wisdom, “that if you don’t find a sponsor in six months you’ll be asked to leave the program.”
Lily nodded: Nadia had indeed told her that. She felt a little nervousness about the deadline, but six months, she thought, represented practically an eternity in a big city. The girl she had seen in the mirror slayed. These sponsors would hardly know what hit them.
“What kind of men are we talking about?” Lily asked, feeling a little foolish for not having covered this question in more detail before. Frankly, the sight of those beautiful high-rise apartments and the thought of having the one she had chosen for free for at least six months had probably clouded her judgment a bit. “I mean, I know—rich and powerful, but…”
Nadia smiled patiently. “I know what you mean. Yes, most of them are older: a lot are a good deal older than the girls they have arrangements with. But you came from a New Modesty town, so you’re used to that, right? I will say that our clientele skews a bit older than NM suitors, so you know.”
That made Lily’s cheeks get a little hot, and her heart beat faster as she thought about thirty-year-old Chad Henry in Long Valley. She hadn’t been thrilled about that aspect of life in Long Valley, from the beginning. She nodded back to Nadia, though, and put her next question as if it didn’t matter to her at all.
“And what does Selecta have for me if I don’t find a sponsor in six months? You won’t just throw me out on the street, will you?”
Nadia laughed. “No, of course not. Times may be tough, but Selecta cares. Even a big corporation doesn’t have unlimited resources, though. You’ll be matched to a position in one of our industrial communities, maybe working on our renewable grid.”
Lily frowned. Everyone knew about the renewable grid towns in the prairies and deserts. No nice apartments there. The robots did most of the work, but maintaining them in an increasingly hostile environment took the youth out of Selecta’s workforce pretty quickly, they said.
So, six months—and, if she could get a sponsor to pay at least one month’s allowance, another three months after they broke up, and then repeat the cycle as long as she wanted.
That’s what they said in the Selecta Arrangements social media groups; Nadia set Lily up with her account before Lily left the program officer’s office. Cozy in her new apartment, eating a surprisingly delicious defrosted burrito from the mega-mart right across the street, she read through posts describing ‘m&gs’ as it seemed the SA girls called meet and greet dates, and ones describing actual SA dates.
Lily considered herself a modern young woman, but as she read about the experiences of other girls—many of whom seemed like Lily to have dropped out of suburban New Modesty programs—she realized she had a lot to learn. Among other things, though she regarded the condition more as a minor inconvenience than anything else, Lily Orton was a virgin.
“That’s how you fuck ass,” Joe Perry told William Arnold, as they watched the video Joe had made of his latest date with his Selecta Arrangements girlfriend.
William honestly didn’t think he actually needed any advice on the subject, but he couldn’t deny that Joe had a right to deliver a master class in the fucking of ass. Heather, the girl enduring Joe’s hard cock’s invasion, cried out at every thrust deep into her young bottom. Joe’s hand, underneath her hips as he bestrode her over the back of her sofa, kept her adorably smooth pussy happy while he enjoyed himself in a tighter hole.
The scene was shot from behind. Only the inverted vees of Heather’s bare, trim legs and Joe’s hairy, muscular ones presented themselves to the prurient viewer, contrasting with the leather upholstery of the couch.
Every SA girl had that couch in her living room—for this purpose or something like it. William had fucked three of them on their leather couches already, in the year he’d been a sponsor. He liked anal as much as the next dominant man—Joe Perry, for example—and he had to agree that the sofa furnished by Selecta to the girls of their Selecta Arrangements program presented marvelous positioning for most young women’s asses, when a man bent them over it.
Though the video setup on which Joe had recorded his sex with Heather also constituted part of every SA apartment’s design, William hadn’t taken up the making and sharing of fuck vids, as men like Joe called them. This particular one of Joe enjoying his girlfriend’s bottom hole for the first time almost made him want to try, though; the way Heather turned her pretty face over her shoulder now and then, as if seeking approval from Joe for the way she took his hardness, seemed worthy of recording and savoring later. William felt reasonably certain that Davina, the girl with whom he had broken up a month ago now, would have looked equally moving while William fucked her, whether on the couch or in her bed.
On the video screen in his corner office at Vault Partners, the naked Joe gave a grunt of satisfaction and held his cock in deep as he came in the tightness of Heather’s little bottom. The elegantly dressed Joe turned the video off and looked at William, who had stopped by from his own corner office to drop off a prospectus.
“You’re hard, right?” William’s business partner asked, chuckling in his almost-but-not-quite overly bro-ish way.
“Sure,” William confirmed, rolling his eyes a little. Joe didn’t make him uncomfortable, really, but his laser focus on sex and money could get a bit much sometimes.
“When are you getting back out there, dude? It’s been, what, two months?”
“One month,” William said.
“But still,” Joe protested. “Serious blue balls. I don’t know why you don’t sponsor two or three, like me. With three, you never run into this situation. And it’s not like you don’t have the money, dude.”
No, it certainly wasn’t like William didn’t have the money. The most seductive characteristic of Selecta Arrangements lay in just how easily a man could sponsor multiple beautiful young women, and fuck them all. Compared to the weekly earnings of the super-rich men who participated—the Vault partners Joe Perry and William Arnold being typical examples—the sponsorship of an SA girl represented a pittance, even if you treated her like a princess and bought her expensive gifts, the way William had done with Davina.
Selecta put the limit at four simultaneous relationships, for both men and girls. Most sponsors paid a premium, though, to make sure they were the only man fucking their SA girlfriend. William had done that for his three girls, without a second thought. As far as money went, though, he could easily have sponsored a girl for each night of the week, and all of them exclusive.
He couldn’t deny that the harem-esque fantasy had a certain appeal, at the level of his groin. Joe lived it, more or less, and clearly enjoyed it greatly. The only reason he didn’t sponsor four SA girls, Joe said, lay in his devotion to masculine pursuits like poker and golf: Selecta required that a sponsor see each of his girls at least once a week, or he would lose his dating privileges with her while having to pay an extra month’s ‘severance’ during which the girl could double-dip with other sponsors.
“Actually,” William told him, dropping the prospectus onto Joe’s glass-topped desk, “I’m on my way to a meet and greet right now.”
“Dude,” Joe said. “The new one? New2Chi25?”
William shook his head, laughing. “I’m not telling.”
“It is, though, right? The blonde with the tiny tits.”
William had a good deal of practice at hiding his annoyance with Joe in this kind of situation, and it didn’t let him down. Part of him wanted to tell his business partner that New2Chi25’s real name had turned out to be Lily, and she seemed smarter and funnier than the vast majority of SA girls. Most of him, however, knew that Joe would probably never understand that William’s approach to dating didn’t revolve around sex the same way most sponsors’ did.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” William said.
“Yeah, you will,” Joe retorted in that inimitably juvenile way that somehow implied that he felt absolutely certain William would have sex tonight.
William couldn’t suppress his chuckle. “You know I don’t have sex on an m&g, dude,” he said. “And I’m not saying it’s that new girl, or any new girl, but if it were… dude, try a little tenderness.”
Joe snorted. “Bro, new girls need it just as bad as experienced ones. They wouldn’t be in the program if they didn’t. It’s not like they’re virgins.”
Well, William thought, it’s not usually like they’re virgins. He didn’t feel sure about New2Chi25—Lily.
Joe hadn’t spoken anything but the truth, though, as far as SA girls’ readiness for intimacy went. Selecta’s business model for Selecta Arrangements depended on their preternatural-seeming ability to find lovely, submissive young women who needed sex as much as their sponsors. The program’s guidelines made clear that if a sponsor thought a meet and greet had gone well, he could with her permission take the girl back to her apartment and fuck her.
That could take place before registering the actual arrangement with Selecta, too, so that the disciplinary element of the relationship—a key part of the program, for William—would remain up in the air that first night. He had known Davina would suit him as a girlfriend when, after their martini meet and greet had gone so well that William had impulsively suggested he take her back to her place, she had said sassily, “What if I say no?”
The look in her eyes had had such mischief in it that William hadn’t hesitated—his dominant instincts had told him precisely how to play the game. “That depends on when you say it. If you say it now, I’ll say good night.”
Davina’s blue eyes had grown a little troubled. “Would we have a real first date, then? Or would you ghost me?”
“I’d never ghost you,” William had responded. “But I don’t think we’d have another date.”
“So,” she had said, the mischief beginning to come back into her eyes, “what if I said no right outside my door?”
William had smiled over the rim of his nearly empty martini. “I would say good night.” He had put the glass down on the bar and laughed. “We definitely wouldn’t have another date.”
Davina had laughed, too. “But you wouldn’t ghost me?”
“No, never,” William said. “We could be friends, but to make me walk you all the way to your door, and get so… eager… That would just be cruel.”
“What if I let you in, and said no then?”
William had smiled. “I bet you can figure that out from my profile,” he had said, narrowing his eyes.
When Davina had gone red, he had known. She had let him in, and then she had said, as soon as the door had closed behind him, “No.”
Over William’s knee she had learned just what the most important passage on his Selecta Arrangements profile meant.
Don’t accept a message request from me unless you’re interested in firm-handed guidance, in the bedroom and outside it.
William had not fucked Davina that night, though he knew he could have. After spanking her for the first time, he had wanted her to think about whether she was really looking for that kind of guidance. He had started her allowance, so that she could have all the time she needed, and told her to take a week.
When Davina had messaged him, two days later, Sir, I don’t think I can wait a week, the happiest six months of William’s life had begun. Only a summons to an executive training job halfway across the world—a job William had gotten for her—had ended their relationship.
Now he didn’t even know how much interest he had in a brief fling with another girl. He knew he needed a little companionship, at least, and he definitely missed sex. When New2Chi25 had popped up in his SA feed, with the gorgeous picture and the enticing profile, he had thought Why not?
In the picture, the girl whose name had turned out to be Lily had her eyes cast demurely away from the camera. Dressed in a white sundress, she stood in a meadow on a bright summer’s day. She had her hands at her waist, the fabric of her dress between her fingers. Her wavy blonde hair, in its disheveled ponytail, seemed to glow in the sunlight.
William had known immediately that she must be a New Modesty dropout—that kind of picture always seemed to come from Selecta’s most famous program, where they did photo shoots for every young woman to help her attract attention on the town courtship site. Girls on Selecta Arrangements seemed either to have those beautiful, professional quality photos, or terrible selfies taken in bad light.
New2Chi25 had posted a few of those, too: one taken at her barista job and another in the mirror, probably at her apartment. She had undoubtedly read the advice on the forums telling SA girls to show themselves as they actually looked on a day to day basis. Sponsors had busy lives, with little time for meeting girls who didn’t look like their pictures. Enough comments to the program that an SA girl didn’t look like her profile images could get her thrown out.
Lily’s selfies had shown a girl who didn’t always look like the ingenue in the white sundress, but certainly resembled her closely enough that William had felt the blue eyes showed a quality he might want to explore: the same spirit he had seen in Davina’s eyes, but also with the same diffidence waiting just behind.
Her gaze into the mirror as she had taken that picture seemed to say that she hadn’t really figured out why she wasn’t quite the girl in the sundress… why the New Modesty hadn’t worked for her. William had little doubt that New2Chi25 could benefit from what he liked to bring to a relationship, though the process of enlightening her to that need might represent more effort than he had an interest in expending.
The text on New2Chi25’s profile—like that on most Selecta Arrangements profiles—didn’t help much. William didn’t hold that against her.
Looking for someone to invest in my passions and my dreams. I love old music and classic movies. Let’s see if we have a connection?
Her messages had made it clear that she had little idea how the program worked, yet. That inexperience, combined with whatever reluctance had gotten her kicked out of the New Modesty might well prove too much work. Still, the picture had haunted him mildly, and he had guided her through the process.
Hi! I’m William. Take a look at my profile and see what you think?
Hi William Im lily. do you want a m&g
She had clearly wanted to sound like she knew what she was doing, but the rush to set something up meant she actually had no idea. Lily wanted to get a sponsor as soon as she could, clearly, having figured out how much anything fun cost, in the city. She probably hadn’t gotten many messages—if any—yet, either, since sponsors tended to avoid new profiles.
New girls found this shocking and even insulting. On an unregulated dating site, their cute profiles would get hundreds of messages, most of them from unserious guys—or, worse, predatory ones. Selecta kept that demographic completely out of the equation, and William knew the effect could be jarring.
Hi Lily, he had messaged back. Take a look first? What’s your favorite classic movie?
Hi William, had come the response, in which she had to his surprise clearly tried to obey rules of punctuation. I like your profile! Let’s talk about movies over a drink?
He had sighed inwardly, but twenty minutes and a martini seemed like a small investment, especially with a lovely young woman who would at least get him back out there.