Implanted by The_Technician

A gay adult stories: Implanted by The_Technician ,

This is a story in three parts, all of which are in this post. It starts rather slowly as it follows Donna Reynolds and her decision to be implanted so that she can be successful in the world. It is rather mild sexually, but somewhat upsetting in theme as it sets forth a fictional future world that may be less improbable than some would think. In fact, we may already be living in that world.
WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY.

Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2020 by The Technician.

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

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The Beginning:

Donna Reynold’s nineteenth birthday had just passed. I-Day was less than a month away. She was rapidly approaching the most important day of her life. I-Day was exactly one year from the date of her graduation. She had to make her decision by then. I-Day was the deadline for her to decide whether or not she would be implanted.

It was quite an accomplishment for Donna when she graduated from her Third Level schooling. Only one third of the students made it that far. She remembered the culling when she finished First Level. At the end of First Level, the lowest one third of the students were seIected as Drudges. Her parents had used the culling as a threat to make her study when she would rather be playing outside. “You have to study,” they would say, “or you will end up a Drudge.”

The Drudges did the lowest jobs in the city. Their government ID cards and video records said DRUDGE in the classification spot, but you didn’t need to look at their ID to know they were a Drudge. Drudges always had a stupid grin on their faces. They seemed happy. And Donna knew they got married because there would be official notices in the news feeds. But there were never any kids in school from Drudge families so maybe they couldn’t have kids. They lived in the big government housing project on the edge of town and came into their jobs every morning or every night in special underground busses to do cleaning and other jobs no one else would want. You normally didn’t see them very often, but sometimes you would see them working in one of the big holes that are dug occasionally to work on pipes or whatever deep below the streets or cleaning up some mess on the street that couldn’t wait to be cleaned up that night.

One day, when Donna’s dad was particularly upset with her, he yelled, “Do you want them to fry your brain so you wander around like a slobbering idiot for the rest of your life?”

She didn’t know if they actually fried the kid’s brains who were culled out to be Drudges, but she did once run into a boy on the street whom she had known before he was culled. He didn’t remember her, and he was… different. He was smiling, but Donna couldn’t tell if he was really happy because it was that strange, stupid grin that all Drudges have. He was cleaning up dirt from the sidewalk from an emergency repair of some sort in the street. After she spoke to him, he said, “I’m sorry, ma’am, if I have offended you in any way, but I have to make this sidewalk clean.” Then he beamed at her and said, “I’m the best sidewalk sweeper in my workgroup.”

Donna just said, “OK,” and walked on.

After the first culling, her parents changed their threats. They no longer threatened her with becoming a Drudge. Instead they threatened her with becoming a Worker. They would say, “Do you want to be a Worker struggling to eke out a living for the rest of your life?”

Workers did the low-level jobs in the city like bus drivers, waitresses, short-order cooks, sales girls in the stores and things like that. They stopped school after Second Level, or more accurately, they were culled and not allowed to continue to Third Level. There was no frying of brains or anything like that. And there were kids in school from worker families. Those culled to be Workers were just removed from school. Their government IDs were simply changed from STUDENT to WORKER and the culling was complete.

Without a Third Level education, the best a Worker could get were the lower level jobs. Some were happy with their lives. Others were not. One half of the students finishing Second Level were culled as Workers. That left one-third of the original class going on into Third Level.

There were no more cullings after that, but there was the seIection and then the big decision. Would you become a Skilled Worker, or would you be implanted?

About half of the class had no real choice. They were destined to become Skilled Workers. But the other half of the class– the true amount varied from year to year– about half of the class was invited to become implanted.

For the chosen ones, after graduation was a one-year period of self-examination. The government granted each seIected student a generous allowance so they could travel and see the world, or perhaps just go up into the mountains, or whatever. The idea was that they would see and experience life. It was a time to examine the world and oneself. Then at the end of that year the decision would be made. Would they become a Skilled Worker or would they accept the invitation and be Implanted.

Skilled Workers were just that. Their IDs said SKILLED. They made good money. They lived fairly well in the suburbs. They supervised assembly lines or built houses or even big buildings or perhaps they managed offices or were assistants to the bosses. Donna’s parents were Skilled Workers.

The bosses, the owners, and all upper level management, however were implanted. In order to really get ahead in the world you had to be one of the Elites– the official term for the implanted ones. There were some who said that, even at this point, the government encouraged certain people to become Skilled Workers and others to become Elites, but if they did Donna was unaware of it. She did notice that she did seem to receive an awful lot of brochures explaining the benefits of being implanted. Of course, the brochures also explained what would happen if you didn’t get implanted, but that was a much shorter section.

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