Sexual Equity 10: Laissez-faire

"And that's why New Dorset must return to the principles of the free market and individual initiative that once gave us the title of 'Nonpareil of the Pacific' — and could do so again. Thank you all."

Nicole Tolley, MP for Portsmouth-Elgin, finishes her speech and steps down from the podium amid sustained applause. This is the third time she's been the featured speaker at the Portsmouth Business League dinner, held every year in early October, and her articulation of the principles of laissez-faire capitalism and how they apply in New Dorset have always gone over well. Portsmouth is the largest city and the commercial center of New Dorset, and the business community has always been the core of her political support.

After a few final words from the business league's president, Nicole and the other speakers step down from the stage and find their assigned seats. Nicole finds herself at a table with leaders of some of New Dorset's most prominent corporations. Her table includes the president of Salacia Foods (the smaller of New Dorset's two major seafood processing companies) and her homemaker husband; the CFO of the nation's largest accounting firm and his schoolteacher wife; and the general manager of the New Dorset subsidiary of Georgia Pacific and his husband, who is an academic on sabbatical from Clark Atlanta University. Nicole finds herself speaking with the one other person at the table who is here alone, Sir Shane Crandall. He is the founder and president of PELB Semiconductor, one of New Dorset's largest electronics firms. He is a portly man in his early forties, with dark hair and eyes and a sallow complexion.

"Sir Shane, I didn't know you attended these things," says Nicole. "I was under the impression you didn't have much interest in the league and its activities."

"Recent events, Ms. Tolley, have made it quite clear to me that my failure to engage with the rest of the business community has been a serious mistake, one I intend to remedy."

"Yes. I am sorry, Sir Shane, that we were unable to secure permission for the expansion of your facility. I'm sure it would have helped to work with other business leaders, but of course it was the federal government who made the decision."

"Surely the government wouldn't have stood against the business community, if we were united?"

Nicole shakes her head. "Too many of my fellow representatives simply don't understand, or don't care, that it is companies like yours that make it possible for New Dorset to afford the good schools that they were so touchy about. They don't understand that risk is a part of life, not just business — and government, too, should be willing to take risks, not put the brakes on successful companies like yours for the sake of so-called 'health and safety.'

"To be honest, even if we had rallied the entire business community — and I agree it's sad that it was not united behind you — it isn't likely to have made a difference. There are too many people in government who just don't get it. Too many who have never had to make a payroll, or even worked in business at all."

"Well, I do appreciate your support, even though we didn't succeed. It's going to cost us millions to find a new location, far enough from a school that even a hundred-year flood couldn't spread solvents or plating materials."

"And it's terrible that you're being interfered with that way. What we need is changes in Parliament, if we're to avoid this kind of thing in the future."

"I see. Perhaps you're right." He looks at her for a couple of seconds, taking her in, before the waitstaff come from the kitchen, bringing plates of food. "Perhaps we could discuss this further at another time? It's been a long time since lunch."

"Yes, I think we should talk further," says Nicole.

---

Nicole doesn't get another chance to speak to Sir Shane that evening; he ends up moving to another table and Nicole ends up talking mainly about fisheries and trade policy with the Salacia Foods president. She is surprised the next day when her assistant asks if she wants to take a meeting with Sir Shane. "Of course!" she says.

At 16:30 the following Tuesday, Sir Shane comes to the small suburban commercial building where Nicole takes constituency meetings, and and is shown to Nicole's private office. Nicole is self-conscious about the plastic office chairs and cheap fiberboard desks and bookshelves.

"Welcome, Sir Shane. I hope you're comfortable -- constituency offices aren't very plush. Would you like some tea, or a muffin?"

"No thank you, Ms. Tolley, I'm on a new food plan this week. And your office is fine with me — I pay enough in taxes without having to pay for government luxury. Thank you for seeing me."

"Of course. What did you want to discuss?"

"I've been thinking about what you said the other night. I have to admit I haven't given the political world much of my attention. As you probably know I came to New Dorset originally for university, so I never learned much beyond the basics about how politics works here. But the so-called workers protections and environmental regulations have always been there, interfering with how I built my business.

"But now I've started to realize just how big our nanny state has gotten. I'm greatly disturbed to see how often our governments overreach their proper responsibilities and impose unreasonable burdens of taxes and regulations on businesses like mine. I think it's time for me to shift my emphasis."

"New Dorset would benefit from your attention, I'm sure. When I've talked to most business leaders, they're too busy to spend much time on anything besides running their companies."

"Yes. Well... actually there are some changes afoot. I founded PELB nearly twenty years ago. Back then we pioneered new technologies; now we're just another group of factories. At this point, my chief operating officer is more than capable of running the place better than I can. I'm planning on handing over the presidency to her next month. I'll stay on as board chair, but that won't take much time.

"The other thing you might not know is that many years ago, PELB was involved in an intellectual property dispute with Handheld Digital. They used some of our patented techniques with gallium arsenide to build their first devices. We came to an amicable agreement — no cash, but 10% of their equity."

"Ten percent of Handheld?" She looks down at her cell phone, the latest Handheld model. "And they're having their IPO next month." Nicole had heard it would be worth billions.

"Right. PELB owns 10% of Handheld, and I own 51% of PELB. So once Handheld goes public, I'll have both time and very significant resources on my hands. I can't think of a better use for them than to turn New Dorset's politics back toward free enterprise —but to be honest I have no idea how to go about it. When I ask around to see who might be able to accomplish political change, your name always comes up. Can we work together to make this happen?"

Nicole can't believe an opportunity like this has fallen into her lap. "I'd be delighted, Sir Shane. Did you have something specific in mind?"

"That's just it — I don't even know where to begin. Should I be supporting candidates in the next election? I don't think we have political parties, maybe we should start one?"

Nicole wonders if ignorance this profound is general in the technology industry, or specific to Sir Shane's Canadian upbringing. "Well, political parties are illegal in New Dorset. They were eliminated in the late seventies, soon after Sexual Equity came in. The idea is that people should vote for the best individual, not the one who is part of their team. Of course that makes it very hard to use the vote to support particular policies.

"So each woman has to run on our own. Part of our problem is that people see free market policies as not compassionate, and not compatible with their stereotypes of women. A woman promoting free market policies comes off as somehow odd, less feminine."

"Like Margaret Thatcher."

"Exactly. She was successful in the UK because she was the head of a party, but here, where we don't have parties and the competing candidates are women who do conform to stereotypes by supporting the nanny state, it's much harder to attract support.

"That's only one of our challenges, of course. As it happens, I worked last year with Scott O'Donnell, a postdoc at Wilmot-Horton University, to put together a new strategic plan for promoting market policies in our country —let me see here." She stands up from her chair and scans through her bookshelves.

As she searches, Sir Shane looks her up and down — her body is slim but curvy; she has layered shoulder-length blonde hair; she is wearing bangle earrings, a silk top with lace accents, a floral mid-thigh length skirt, nude hose and heels. "I don't see how anyone could see you as anything but feminine."

She looks back at him, irked but resigned to his boorishness. "Well, that's the idea —I dress to compensate. But this is one disadvantage women supporting free market ideals face." She finds the binder she's looking for; she returns to her chair and opens it. "The strategy we came up with has several parts. First, a promotion and education campaign to improve the general public's view of free market policies. Second, a concerted effort within the House of Representatives to make market policies more acceptable. Third, a program to recruit a large contingent of pro-market candidates, and finally, support for those candidates in elections.

"We put together the plan, but our appeals to funders fell on deaf ears. Building an organization to execute all of these will take resources, and that's what we need if we're going to be successful. Sir Shane, if you're serious about making a difference, funding our plan will do it. It will require a significant commitment of funds to pay for the work."

Sir Shane looks suspicious. "Will you be expecting to receive some of those funds, Ms. Tolley?"

"Oh, no. Those funds will go to staff and to pay for research and materials. Even if I wanted to, I'm not allowed to take paid positions while I serve in the House of Representatives. I can serve in a volunteer capacity, to the extent I have time, and I would want to do that here. Of course, if the project makes donations to the campaigns of MPs, I'd expect to have mine considered on an equal basis."

Mollified, he says, "I see. Well, if things go as expected, after next month the funds to support the project will not be a problem. For my charity work, I have a solicitor who sets up foundations, and she can handle this too. But I will need the details of your plan for her to look over, and to be able to work with you on realizing it. I don't have the connections you have with people who know about this work, and you have a great reputation for making change in Parliament. Can I count on your help?"

Nicole smiles. "I'd like nothing better."

"Great. Please send over a copy, and I'll have my solicitor work with you and the people you worked with on establishing the organization."

"I'll send it over right away."

"Thank you. I think we'll be able to accomplish a lot together. Let's arrange to follow up once Ms. Patel has had a chance to set things up."

"That would be welcome. Thank you for being willing to step up like this."

"Of course." He stands, pulling his body out of the chair with some effort, and reaches out for a handshake.

Nicole stands and accepts it. "See you early next year, then."

"Yes," he says, and then thinks for a moment. "If we don't run into each other sooner. Goodbye, Ms. Tolley."

"Goodbye, Sir Shane."

The next day Nicole sends over a copy of the strategic plan, and within the week she, Scott O'Donnell, and the lawyer Belinda Patel are in discussions about the new venture. They agree that there should be two organizations — an institute to handle public education and promotion of free market ideas, and a campaign assistance organization to handle candidate recruitment and campaign support. They decide that Belinda and Scott will work first to establish the institute, and they will wait to establish the campaign assistance organization until after the institute is on its feet. Nicole doesn't expect to hear from them or Sir Shane until January or February.

It's two weeks later, nineteen o'clock, and as usual Nicole is in a crib lounge, removing her clothes. The nearest cribs to her constituency office are a few kilometers away in Elgin Town Hall, but she usually prefers to travel here, to the provincial capitol, Wilmot-Horton Palace. It's a bit further, but the cribs are better kept and there is better security.

She likes to take her service appointments late in the day. When she first did state service, five years ago now, she found that she couldn't help but be aroused by serving strangers, and she liked to book an extra hour in the crib and give herself some relief afterwards. Nowadays the excitement has worn off, so she limits herself to showering, and doesn't stay. Still, she has continued to take mainly evening appointments.

Nicole puts the sheer service robe around herself and enters the crib. As with all cribs, there's a bed against the wall, a nightstand, a tall chair, and a kneeling stool. Nicole presses the Ready button on the wall, and then kneels on the stool, making sure she's not sitting on her robe.

She waits for a minute or two before a door opens and a pudgy man comes in, wearing just a wrap. She looks up and gives a practiced smile. She opens her mouth and is about to speak when she recognizes Sir Shane. It takes her a moment to collect herself before steeling herself to treat him no differently than any other patron. She mechanically recites her greeting: "Hello, my name is Nicole. May I serve you with my hands, my mouth, or by intercourse?"

"Hello, Nicole. Before we get to that, I must say it's lovely to see you like this. I hope you know your femininity is even more enticing now than it was in your office. Could you please stand, and remove your robe? I find the robes just get in the way."

"Of course, S— sir," she says, stopping herself from using his name. She does as he asks, putting her robe on a hook near the door and then stands in front of him.

"Thank you, Nicole," he says. He reaches down and presses his finger against her lower lips; she spreads her legs for him, and then he inserts it into her vagina.He moves his finger in and out a couple of times before removing and sniffing it. "So rich and heady. But I think for now, you should serve me with your mouth." He moves sideways over to the tall chair, hauls himself up on it, and pulls aside his wrap.

Nicole pulls the kneeling stool in front of him and takes his glans into her mouth. As she moves her lips up the shaft she has to turn her head slightly to avoid his paunch. Sir Shane reaches his hand out and begins stroking her hair as she fellates him and he becomes erect.

Nicole isn't too thrown by what's happened so far: comments about her public appearance aren't uncommon, and even a patron inserting a finger inside her and sniffing her juices has happened occasionally over the years. But she isn't expecting what happens next.

"So, Nicole, I know Dr. O'Donnell and Ms. Patel haven't spoken with you, so let me update you on their progress. Dr. O'Donnell suggested using a neutral name without specific political meaning would boost credibility, so we've decided — mmmm — to call it 'Chatham River Institute.'" Also, for credibility he thinks that we should have a large board with business, academic, and political representatives — ah, that's nice, right there — so we'll take a few months to flesh it out and then hire a permanent executive director."

Sir Shane goes on like this, updating her on board prospects and organizational details, punctuated by appreciative comments on her tonguing technique or suggestions on how best to massage his scrotum. At first Nicole has to work hard to both pay attention to what he's saying and also continue stimulating him. Soon she finds a rhythm, moving her lips up and down his shaft, having her tongue swirl around the glans on the down-stroke and push against it on the up-stroke, and it keeps him aroused while allowing her to listen to his news.

At one point, he starts to ask a question about potential staff to work on outreach to MPs. "Do you have anyone you can recomm— oh, sorry, I forgot you shouldn't answer my questions in here, even if you weren't using your mouth in a much more pleasurable way. I'm sure Dr. O'Donnell will call you about that later. Anyway, about the other areas, ..."

It takes Sir Shane nearly fifteen minutes to give Nicole his update, as Nicole continues her fellatio. Finally he says, "Well, Nicole, thank you for listening. I know you can feel how much I'm enjoying this. I think if you can just go a little faster, and press with your tongue just behind the head... oh..." After a moment he grunts and begins the first spurt down Nicole's throat.

Nicole takes in Sir Shane's semen until he is spent. Finally, she removes herself from his crotch and straightens her head, and is able to look up over his belly at his face. He is still recovering from his orgasm.

She decides that sticking to her script, pretending she doesn't know him, would be silly at this point. Once she sees that he has come to himself again, she says, "Thank you for the update, Sir Shane."

"My pleasure. Nicole, I hope this doesn't make you less interested in working with me in the future. Knowing that you provided service to citizens, though, I couldn't help but want to receive it from you."

"Not at all," she says, unsure about how big a lie she is telling. "I'll be happy to send some recommendations over for that parliamentary outreach position."

"I know Dr. O'Donnell will appreciate it," he says.

Nicole now falls back on the ritual. "On behalf of the House of Representatives, I thank you for this opportunity to serve. I bid you farewell until your next service." She rises from the stool and takes her robe from the hook, but does not stop to put it on before she enters the code, returns to the lounge, and closes the door.

Nicole hurls the robe into the hamper and moves to the washroom. She uses mouthwash and is suitably grateful to the Service Office for providing it. She washes her hands, and then goes out to the closet. She doesn't feel like wending through the web site, so she gets her phone and calls the Service Office staff. "This is Nicole Tolley, I just finished my appointment in in Wilmot-Horton Palace crib 12. Would it be possible to extend my stay? ... I can keep it until eight o'clock tomorrow. Thank you very much." She doesn't intend to keep it more than an hour or two, but it's nice to know she could.

She moves to the shower, turns it on very hot, and stays there for fifteen minutes. She then dries off, puts on all her clothes, grabs a blanket, lies herself down on the daybed, and pulls the blanket over her.

She's surprised to find herself waking up at three o'clock. Fortunately taxis are always waiting outside the palace, and one takes her home. Another reason not to use Elgin Town Hall, she thinks.

—-

Early the next week Nicole is in a group counseling room, part of the Service Office chambers in the basement of Parliament House. This is her regular State Service support and counseling circle. All servitrixes are encouraged to be part of a circle to support each other and improve their skills, although not all participate.

The other members are four other MPs, five Bathurst MLAs, and Amy, the Service Office counselor. Both Parliament and the Bathurst Legislative Assembly are in session today, so they're all present. As always, the women are nude, or nearly so; Nicole, like most, prefers nudity to the service robe, but two are wearing them and three of the MLAs are wearing scarves tied around their necks, an approved alternative in Bathurst. They are sitting on four couches, arranged in a rough square.

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