Author: Tullius <tullius@cantshootfs.cjb.net>
Title: Chips 'n' Dip
Part: Chapter 1
Summary: The State has decided that everyone is either a Controller or a 
Risk, a master or a slave.  Carnality ensues.
Keywords: MF Mf FF Mdom bd nc mc coll

Disclaimer: If you're under the legal age of majority in your jurisdiction,
you should have been amply warned not to read this by now, but for the 
sake of the incredible levels of repetition demanded by lawyers I'll say 
it again.  This work of fiction is just that, fiction, any similarity to a 
real person or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.  Moreover, it's a 
piece of fiction intended to be read by open-minded adults, and should not 
be viewed by minors.  If you're under eighteen years of age, you are duly 
warned to read no further, and the author disclaims all civil and criminal 
liability that might be construed to result from anything that happens to 
you if you do so.

Redistribution of this work is allowed under the following conditions.  
Firstly, it must be verbatim, and this disclaimer and boring copyright 
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The author will accept positive feedback and praise of all kinds with 
blushing gratitude, pay due heed to respectfully-phrased constructive 
criticism, and send flames to /dev/null with extreme prejudice, possibly 
rebutting them in an annoyingly calm and reasonable tone if he can be 
bothered.

***

To Quote Mark Twain:-
"Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; 
persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons 
attempting to find a plot in it will be shot."

***

The only thing I wonder now, is why didn't more people resist being 
chipped?  I didn't because I had something to lose.  The government said 
students who resisted implantation wouldn't be eligible for federal 
student loans, Social Security or welfare.  Since I was living on generic 
breakfast cereal, and paying for that with my student loan, I couldn't 
afford not to.  Not that I minded, really, after all, if the government 
says we all need electronic implants, then we must all need... what was 
I saying?  Anyway, everyone got their letters, you could tell if you were 
a Controller or a Risk by the colour of your chip, but bureaucracy being 
such as it is, we all got the letters anyway, by FedEx, for some reason.  
Since they knew for a fact everyone was getting one, the vans would just 
park at the end of the street and honk, everyone would come out, sign for 
their letters and go back indoors.

Dear Mr.  Willaby, (mine said)

We are pleased to inform you that you have been assigned the status of 
Context  1 Controller.  Your Control Unit is enclosed.  As you may be aware,
your Context of  1 allows you to claim  1 currently unclaimed Risk as your
responsibility in law.  Your Context will be reviewed bi-monthly based on 
your Control Record.

Basic guidelines on the use of the control unit are built into your 
Controller chip.  If you opted to have a socket-extensible chip installed, 
a more detailed manual can be found on the enclosed chip.

Please remember, Mr.  Willaby, you are performing an important public 
service by taking on a Risk/Risks, and you have the thanks of a grateful 
nation.

Yours faithfully,

Mary Goodwin
Director of Public Order

Something was hinky about all this, but I couldn't quite work out what.  
It was like trying to recall a name you hadn't heard in a while, there 
was the feeling that you knew, just no knowledge.  In the end, I just 
forced myself to look at the facts.  The fact was that I could take legal 
responsibility for anyone with a red chip in their neck.  I took the 
controller out of the envelope.  It looked like one of those remote 
central locking fobs for cars, in fact, it had a keyring attachment.  I 
closed my eyes, introspected, looking for the place in my mind occupied 
by the chip.  It was all still very new to me, though the nurse who'd 
taught me the technique had told me it would get easier.  When I opened 
my eyes and looked down at the chip, I knew that touching the controller 
to the chip of an unclaimed Risk would bring him or her under its... my 
control.  Moving the left-hand slider to a given setting and pushing it 
would induce pleasure, while the right-hand slider would induce pain.  The 
recessed button between the two sliders was for emergency use only, and 
would cause immediate unconsciousness.  Some vague doubts were still 
nagging at me, but I didn't have an extensible chip (they'd cost extra), 
so I couldn't use the manual.  I found, though, that I also had memories 
of what the sliders could do.  I couldn't help but shudder at the memory of
the maximum pain setting, and the minimum setting was no picnic either.

I put the controller down on my desk next to my keys, intending to attach 
the two later.  I'd remembered that I had to get ready for class.

*

Two blocks away, in an apartment not unlike Sam Willaby's, lived Diego.  As 
Sam left for his Linguistics 101 class, Diego was in his chair, naked, 
casually fondling Mary, who was sitting, likewise naked, in his lap, paging
through files on his computer.

"Kendrick, Roberta.  Context 1... ooh, keep doing that, baby, right there.  
Wants to have her daughter transferred from her boyfriend's control to 
hers.  Claims the boyfriend is abusive."

"What's the boyfriend's context?"

"Mmm..."  Mary's eyes rolled up into her head.  "Mmm...oh, yeah!"

Diego waited for her to recover, then asked the question again.

"Mmm... three."

"All right, take the daughter off his chip and bump him up to four, that 
should keep everyone happy."

"Yes, master."

"Good girl."  As Diego leaned around Mary to reach the keyboard, she 
tingled in anticipation.  He tapped a few keys, and she began to buck 
orgasmically in his lap.

*

As I was walking into the lecture theatre, Sarah, a friend of mine, ran up 
behind me.  Before either of us could say anything she'd pulled me to one 
side, where no-one could see us, and showed me her chip.  It was red.

"You're a Risk!"  I exclaimed.

"Quiet!" She whispered back.  "I don't want anyone to know."

"Why not?"  I thought I knew why not, but every time I thought about it I 
got confused, so I asked anyway.  She looked at me like I'd just asked if 
she liked the smell of deep-fried Welshman in the morning.

"Are you kidding?  Just imagine if some jock decided he wanted me for his 
plaything.  I can just imagine it, having to sleep on the floor at the frat 
house, being their little geeky spank-toy."

I should explain at this point that Sarah has kind of poor self-image.  I 
don't like the way she makes all the "I'm a geek" jokes, but I don't know 
what to say. I figure "Look, no-one pays enough attention to you to call 
you a geek" isn't going to help, but it would be the truth.  She tries to 
hide behind a look carefully designed to say "Mainstream person, nothing 
to see here", and succeeds real well.  Something in the way she said it 
meant I couldn't help but wonder if maybe she wouldn't like to be someone's 
"geeky spank-toy", despite all her protestations to the contrary.

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know." She looked a bit distressed.  "My Dad's a Risk too, and my 
Mom's only Context 1, so she can't take me and him on.  I don't know anyone 
else I'd trust to take me on."

She rearranged her long hair to cover the chip, and headed for the lecture 
theatre, expecting me to follow.  I fingered the control unit in my pocket, 
tempted to just take her then and there, but I decided I wouldn't unless 
she asked me to.  It occurred to me that my hair was long enough to cover 
up my chip, just below my ear, as well, so she might not know I was a 
Controller.  I pushed my hair back behind my ears and sat down next to her.  
She didn't say anything, and the lecture had begun so I couldn't raise the 
issue.  The content was the same boring stuff.  I'd been fool enough to do 
the assigned reading, so there really wasn't any point in my being there.  
I kept an ear out (or so I liked to think) for anything that sounded new, 
and busied myself by looking around the room.  Some of the other students 
were blue-chipped, which meant they were Controllers like me, some of them 
were green-chipped, which meant they were taken Risks, and only two that I 
could see were red-chipped, unclaimed Risks like Sarah.  There didn't seem 
to be any pattern to it.  Man or woman, black or white, it looked like there 
was no way to predict whether you were a Controller or a Risk.