Claude's home - nearly a mansion - was on the outskirts of the city, with acres and acres of unspoiled land surrounding it. He eschewed the modern fashions, furnished the house instead with replicas of the Victorian era. It had cost a fortune, and a second one to maintain it, with countless mechanical servants. Renee gazed about herself with undisguised awe.

"It's so big," she whispered. She set her bag down and wandered to the nearest bookshelf, reading each title hungrily.

"Don't touch that," snapped Claude.

She froze, nearly grasping a tome.

"Those books are for show only," he growled. "I don't want them soiled. Understand?"

"I'm sorry...I didn't realize-"

"I didn't ask for excuses," he said. "Do. You. Understand."

She stared at him for a moment, as if trying to discern if he were really serious. "...Yes. No touching the books."

"Good. Now go upstairs. The first room on the right is yours, and there are new clothes inside. Change and come down for dinner."

"Okay."

She is going to need quite a bit of instruction, Claude mused to himself, watching Renee race up the stairs. And more besides...perhaps a bit too impertinent...

He laughed suddenly. Too impertinent? That simply made the process a bit longer. The initial sauciness would make the final product all the sweeter.

It only took a moment to key in dinner, a few seconds more for it to be ready. He sat idly at the lengthy table, but impatiance soon overtook him. Surely it couldn't take that long to change outfits? He needed to discover cause of the delay.

Logging into Renee's mind was much easier than all of the sims he had been practicing on. Synthetics had a linear thought process, so 'mind-reading' was relatively simple. It was an extra, though, and was nearly as costly as the girl herself.

But it was worth it.

-expect me to wear this...I'm not a tramp!

In truth, the clothes weren't promiscuous. The majority were (admittedly, short) skirts, sun-dresses, and some camisoles. But with the "cover everything" dress-code of the Sisters, such things would seem a bit on the loose side.

But he did go to all the trouble to buy them for me.

It doesn't matter! I am wearing perfectly suitable attire. He shall have to exchange them.

He cut the connection as she left the room, awaiting her arrival. A shiver of excitement ran up his back. Her first rebellion, already! He would have to crush it immediately. Set the correct tone.

She marched into the room with her head high. He stood up before she could speak, and strode in front of her.

"You are not wearing the clothes I gave you," he said softly.

"No," she replied stiffly. "I didn't-"

"I bought them for you to wear. Go put them on."

"Excuse me?" Her gaze hardened. She stood her ground, even though Claude towered above her. "I shall not wear clothing to which I object."

They stood at a standstill.

"I see," he murmured.

He slapped her across the face.

She nearly fell from the heavy blow. She reached for her face, upon which a welt was already rising. Claude leaned in close, he could feel her panting breath.

"Again, I was not asking you a question. I will explain this once." She began to back away, but he gripped her chin. "You are in my house, and you will obey my rules. You will address me as either "master" or "sir," and you will do as I tell you." He gripped her chin tightly, then released it. "Understand?"

She glared at him balefully. "Yes."

He slapped her across the other cheek and she gasped. "Yes-?"

"Yes, sir."

He smiled. "Excellent. Now, go and change for dinner. It will become cold."

She left, more slowly this time.

When she returned, she was wearing the longest sun-dress, it ended an inch below the knees. Her cheeks were rosier than before, but no bruises seemed to be rising. Good. He had requested extra durability; her bruises would be there, but they would not show, and any other injuries should heal fairly quickly.

An icy silence prevailed over the meal. He allowed it, and only clucked as she rose from her seat.

"I did not give you permission to leave the table."

Renee stared at him, then sat back down. "May I leave the table, sir?"

He took another sip of the soup. Swallowed. "No."

He could nearly feel her anger.

"...when may I leave the table?" she asked. "Sir."

"When I choose to grant you permission." He resumed his meal.

She shoved away, clearly deciding she had had enough. She had barely taken one step when Claude utilized the conditioning software that had been packaged with the syn.

She screamed and collapsed to the ground. He waited for three seconds as her limbs twitched violently, trying to escape the pain.

Then he turned it off.

She lay there, nearly hyperventilating. "Wh-wh-what-"

"What was that?" She nodded and he smiled. "'That' was a shock designed to cause you a specific level of pain. You only experienced the first level, however. There are eight. I suggest you start obeying me." He waited until her shivering tapered off. "Now, go sit in your chair, and await my dismissal."

She shakily climbed into her it.

"Good. You are dismissed."

She left without a word.

***

Claude had been expecting the knock. He'd spent the three hours after the dinner listening in, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion. The confusion, however, had soon given away to more pressing matters...

"Enter."

She crept into the bedroom, and stood an inch from the open doorway, shifting from foot to foot.

"Yes?" Claude asked.

"Sir. When the Sisters sent me here," she stammered, "they-they gave me a thing..."

"And?"

"I mean, they said they sent the other part...to you. For me." She paused, hoping he would nod and hand it over. Instead, he gestured for her to continue. "A key, I mean. I need it. Sir."

"For what?"

She whispered something.

"Pardon?

"...to relieve myself, sir."

Claude raised an eyebrow. "You need a key...to piss? That makes little sense..." He wanted her to say it aloud. But she didn't know at all what a chastity belt was called, and her embarrassment was such a treat.

"No...sir. Just- do you have the key?"

He lifted it from the table and held it in the air. She stepped forward with relief.

"Not yet," he held it back and she stopped. "They never specified what you were going to use this on. Show me, and I'll give it to you."

"But-"

"That was not a question."

The blood rose to her face. "O-okay." She took a deep breath, and gripped the edges of the dress. Another breath.

"Okay."

She pulled it up, then immediately released. The belt had barely seen the light, but he had finally seen the delicious extent of her legs. He already wanted to touch them...to hold them apart, and-

"Oh," he said. "I see." He tossed the key at her. She missed it, scrambled on the floor, and more or less dashed from the room.

***

The first night, he just watched her. She sprawled carelessly upon the giant bed, on top of the warm comforter. The nightgown was barely a few inches past her hips. The finely woven threads were all but transparent; her budding breasts swelled against the fabric. The long curls were a halo around her head; she was an embodiment of temptation...

But not yet.

Renee was quiet the next day. Claude peaked into her mind from time to time; he knew she was brooding, and also planning. She was thinking of various ways to escape his home, but she had settled on none, yet. He didn't press her.

He set her to simple tasks, such as organizing the vast number of relatively worthless books in the library, or polishing the banisters of the staircase. He caught her reading once; he tore the book out of her hands and ripped it to pieces. He shocked her too, for good measure. She needed to learn not to slack on the jobs.

He left her crying on the floor, surrounded by the shredded paper and book stacks she had knocked down.

***

The second night, he allowed himself the luxury of brushing a stray curl from her face. Her eyes fluttered in the midst of some dream; he knew he could have looked into it, even altered it, or created another. He contented himself to observing her body.

It was truly a work of art. Even though he himself had designed it on the terminal, had been able to glance at the file as often as he had liked, seeing it in the flesh...it made his blood hot. She slept with an arm above her, another to her side, her legs invitingly wide.
He felt himself begin to harden-

Not yet.

***

She skipped breakfast; he chastised her for her absence during lunch. Her apologies were hollow, but he knew he could force the sincerity later. He let it go.

Renee made her attempt while he was in the bathroom. He didn't even need to check her mind to know she had left the house. He could feel the alarm, a sharp prick above his left eyebrow.

He took his time, and washed his hands. He heard her groans as he wandered back into the main hall, but he didn't discernibly speed up. She was on the front steps, barely six feet from the open door. He crouched down to her curled, whimpering form.

"Renee," he murmured. "I instructed you not to leave the house, did I not?" She said nothing. He turned the pain up a notch, and she cried out. "Answer me, Renee. Did I command you to remain indoors?"

She nodded frantically, but he waited until she choked out an affirmative before lessening the shock.

"Can you explain why you chose to disobey me?" He lowered it a bit more.

"I'm- I'm sor-"

He cut her off with a fresh blast of pain, barely a second's worth, and she screamed anew. "Answer my question."

"...I c-can't explain m-myself, sir."

"I see." He stood, and stared dispassionately at her quaking form. "I do frown upon escapees, Renee. And actions must have consequences. Hmm..." He frowned thoughtfully. "What to do. Should I leave you here, until you learn your lesson?"

She sobbed. "P-please..."

Claude rolled his eyes. "Very well." He pulled off the rest of the shock. Watched as she crawled back inside and leaned against the wall.

"Now, Renee, do you understand what will happen if you attempt to leave the house again?"

She stared at the floor. "Yes, sir."

"Good." He closed the door. "You have ten minutes to pull yourself together. After which, you will return to your chore. If I don't find you there..." He left the threat in the air.

She was organizing the books with single-minded determination when he returned.

***

On the third night, Claude had planned to observe again. Perhaps brush away her hair. He found her unexpectedly under the covers, even though it was much too warm for them. He leaned against a wall and watched as she drifted further into dreamland, pushing the covers further and further from her sweaty form all the while.

Her nightgown was bunched around her waist; her curls clung to the sweat at her brow. He could smell her, and it almost drove him over the edge.

He finally reached down and stroked her baby-smooth stomach. She quivered under his touch, and smiled for a moment in her sleep. He kept stroking her stomach, pushing the nightgown higher with each pass. He didn't stop until it was held in place by her arms, and both of her slight breasts were displayed.

He continued the massage, and she seemed to slip further into sleep. He paused occasionally at her breasts; sometimes cupped the emerging things, or tweaked a nipple between his rough fingers. She didn't stir.

He moved lower, to her right leg. He caressed it, and her thigh, then her inner thigh- her breath hitched for a moment, and he froze, certain she would wake. She didn't, but he decided that that was enough for this night.

Tomorrow- tomorrow was his.

***

Renee ate her meals silently. She did her work, silently. She didn't speak out of turn. Claude wished he could attribute it to his discipline, but he knew the truth - she was feverishly searching her mind for a way to escape, again. She thought of him only when he was in her vision; he was not yet the center of her world.

He sapped her strength as she went to bed, yet another control the syn company gave their customers. He was conflicted about that- he wanted her to fight, certainly. But he wanted her to feel helpless too.

In the end, he decided that he had better break her fast and hard. If she had the illusion that she could oppose him, it had best be dispelled quickly.

Claude gave himself time. He gathered tools. He mentally prepared himself. She was sound asleep when he finally entered the room. The covers had been kicked away again, but this time the nightgown was disappointingly in its proper position.

No matter.

She woke instantly, feeling the change in the mattress as he kneeled onto the bed. He straddled her right leg, trapping her as her left ineffectively closed, prevented from locking against him. He shoved her back down as she tried to lean up, held her down by her chest, and easily handcuffed her flailing wrists together.

"What are-"
"Quiet," he snapped, shocking her for extra effect. She jerked once, but didn't speak again.

He smiled and pulled her from the bed. She immediately tried to run, so he shocked her once more. She fell to the ground, stunned.

Claude grabbed the chain holding her wrists and dragged her to the wall. Her eyes cleared as he lifted her one handed, looping the chain over a hook in the wall.

She stood on her toes, barely able to reach the height from which she was suspended.

"W-what are you doing?" The fear laced her words like a poison. "Um. Sir."

He punched her baby-smooth stomach and she began gasping for air. "You will call me "master." None of this "sir" nonsense, not tonight." He pulled out the knife and her eyes went wide.

He grinned at her panic, but only cut the two straps that held the nightgown upon her delicate frame.

Finally, the whole masterpiece was revealed. Everything as he had imagined. The perfect breasts, just starting to bud. The dark, untangled hair almost covering them. The creamy skin, flushed, now.

He stared, completely transfixed. Hungry.

It only served to alarm her more.

"Sir-" she began. He raised a fist, and she shifted abruptly. "Master, w-w-what's happening?"

He smiled. She was still trying to regain control of the situation. How cute. "Renee," he said. "I have been too lenient. Don't make me punish you. If I wish for you to speak, I will invite you to do so. Understand?"

"B-but-"

He shocked her. "Understand?"

"Y-yes."

He shocked her again, stronger this time. It took her nearly a full minute to stop shaking. He raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, m-master." She hung her head.

"Good girl. Smart girl." He crouched down, cuffed each ankle, and ran the separate chains to the two hooks. The chains were much too long.

"Spread your legs, Renee."

She sniffled. "What?"

He sighed. Sometimes it did take a lot of reinforcement for the lesson to sink in. He shocked her. She arched away from the chains, quite possibly straining her wrists.

"That was for your failure to address me properly," he said. He shocked her again, before she had a chance to recover. "That was for speaking out of turn." A final time. "And that was for disobeying my order."

She was crying, but the pain had caused her whole body to spasm. She'd inadvertently obeyed. He tightened the chains around her ankles as she regained her composure. She realized too late, and fruitlessly pulled her knees together.

"There now." He caressed a cheek. "That's much better."

She recoiled from his touch and gazed into his eyes through a wall of tears. "Please let- Master, please let me go."

Already begging, and he had barely begun. He felt it begin to harden.

"Shh." He put a finger to her lips and ran his other hand to her breast. "I told you," he whispered gently. "Do not speak out of turn." He twisted her nipple and she cried out.

"Shh," he crooned. He looked into her frightened eyes and smiled. "I'll kiss the- the ouchie, little one, and make it all better." He bent down, and gently kissed the smarting area. It was already hard; he licked around it, and tenderly nipped the nub.

She squeaked.

He reached his other hand below, in front of the hidden place between her legs. He pet the lips; she tried to escape, pressed away from his questing hand, but there was only wall behind her.

"Now then," he murmured. He removed his own nightgown with two quick motions. Her eyes were instantly drawn to his solidifying organ.

"W-what is-"

He grinned and grabbed it with his spare hand. "Never seen one of these before, have you?" Of course she hadn't. He'd given her nearly no knowledge about the opposite sex.

He suddenly dipped a finger into her and she gasped. He laughed. "I'll be putting it in there."

She stared the growing thing, and then at her own nether region. "You- you can't," she said wildly. "It's too big!"

He smiled. "I'll make it fit." He released the swollen member and stepped closer. It was just brushing the lips-

"Wait!"

He paused for a moment, and as she opened her mouth to say something, he plunged upward.

The chains cut into her ankles as she was lifted from the ground.

"Ah-" she half screamed, and then she was touching the floor again. She breathed a sigh of relief, then realized- "Don't-"

He rammed, shoved his penis deeper inside, breaking the thin barrier, and driving aside and tearing through the tight walls.

He maintained the thrust, and the more she writhed to escape, the further he entered her body.

"Stop, stop," she moaned. "Please take it out! Please!"

"What, don't like this?" He shook his hips and she shrieked. "And it still has a few inches to go."

"It hurts-" She dropped to the ground suddenly. "Pl- Master! Please!"

Too late. He stabbed upward, and it sank in to the hilt.

"Oh god," she cried. "Please stop please please pl-"

He cut her off with more thrusts, and her words soon became whimpers. He bludgeoned deep inside her one last time - she screamed - and spent himself.

"Ah..." He held her hot form in his arms, as his tight muscles relaxed. Stepped away. He unlocked the cuffs around her ankles, and then her wrists. She sagged to the floor. He caressed one tear-stained cheek. She flinched back, but he let it go. "I'm going to wash up," he said. "I suggest you do the same. I shall see you at breakfast."

He left.

She wore the ill-fitting dress she had arrived in to the morning meal. She carefully sat down, as far from his as possible. Claude sighed and set aside his epaper.

"Renee." She stared at her plate, but she was listening. "I told you to wear the clothes I had purchased. Why aren't you wearing them?"

"They were too small, sir."

"It...displeases me when you persist in wearing such an ugly sack of cloth." He was listening in, and he felt the flash of triumph when she learned she had upset him. He clenched his teeth in irritation. She should be alarmed - frightened, even - of vexing him. Cold satisfaction was definitely not appropriate.

She needed to be taught.

"Come here," he commanded.

The smugness was gone in a flash, replaced with unease.

He turned his chair, so she walked straight toward him. She paused about five feet away.

He stood, and she flinched.

"Remove your dress, Renee."

Obedience. Another luxury of the syns, if you could afford it. If he had the setting on - and he did, now - she would have to obey him. It did take out some of the fun, but watching her tremble as she tried to stop her hands from reaching down and lifting the hem, as she struggled to disobey her own software - that was nearly as good.

The dress was halfway over her head, when he heard it.

"No. I won't, I won't. No." She was muttering it, trying to convince herself that she possessed the willpower to disobey him.

He laughed. That, more than anything, seemed to break her. The dress nearly flew off. It landed near the wall; a cleaner rolled out and removed it.

She stood in front of him as a glorious angel. The sunlight streamed in, making a fiery halo about her hair. Her cheeks were aglow from the internal struggle. The chill morning air was causing her nipples to harden. She stared after that cleaner as it took her modesty; kept staring, even when the wall had hidden it from view.

She was wearing the belt.

Claude rolled his eyes. Fine. If she wanted to cling to the false notion that a bit of iron would save her, so be it. She would be disabused of that soon enough.

He sat down again. She started at the movement.

"All right, Renee. Time for some lessons." He held up a finger. "First: you will obey me in all things. No matter what they are. If I instruct you to jump off the roof, you will do it. As you just saw- I can make you do anything, but there are easy ways...and painful ways. Understand?"

She shivered. "Yes, sir."

"Secondly, you will be grateful for anything I give you. This includes food, water, shelter...and a multitude of others. If you wish to keep receiving them, you will thank me, and you will mean it. Alright?"

"Yes, sir." She wasn't sincere. He shocked her, until she was on the floor gasping, trying to signal for him to stop.

"What was that, Renee?"

"I'm sorry, sir! I am grateful, I swear!" She gazed up at him pathetically until he brought the pain all the way down.

"Very good, then." He leaned down, his hand on either knee. "Now, for the final lesson today." He twitched the robe to the sides, and it fell away from the tent his penis had made. It grew harder as her eyes grew wide.

He reached out his hand, and before she could pull back, he had caught her by her beautiful hair. He dragged her closer, barely a foot from the quivering tool.

"Stop struggling," he commanded. She went limp. Only her eyes continued to dart from side to side. He jerked her forward, bumped her face against it.

"Suck it."

She tried to keep her mouth closed. Tried harder than she tried to keep her dress on. She nearly went blue before her mouth opened.

But then he was in. In a soft, warm, pulsating cave. He heard her think about biting, pulled her away and slapped her smartly, then was back inside almost before she realized. He twined his hands in her hair. She began to pull away, seeking air, but he held her in place. She could probably get air through her nose, but evidently not enough - she jerked, but he still held. Now she wasn't so much sucking, as gasping for breath and pushing him away at the same time.

Only when her endeavor to escape began to become sluggish did he give her a quick breath. She was trying to speak as her mouth closed over his dick once more. He pulled her, deeper and deeper, and felt it hit the back of her throat. She gagged, and he freed her, pausing only to release his semen upon her body.

He let her go completely and she crumpled to the floor.

"Mmm." He leaned back. "For your first, that was alright. We'll have time to improve."

She said nothing and he frowned.

"Did you not enjoy your breakfast?"

Silence. The pleasure Claude felt was rapidly beginning to fade.

"I asked you a question, girl." He grabbed her hair, and hauled her bodily upward, so they were face to face. "You would be wise to answer it."

Renee boldly met his gaze.

This wasn't right. He had time to think. He was reaching into her mind when-

She spat into his face. Her warm spittle- and his own seed as well, probably- slid down his face.

He dropped her in surprise. The girl landed hard on her tailbone.

Claude raised a shocked hand to his face. Yes, that was wetness he felt. Yes, she had put it there.

The little bitch.

"Stop." He said.

She froze, halfway to the door. She had tried to run during his distraction.
"Come here, Renee." His voice was light. He glanced in her mind, and saw that scared her- but not enough. "Now," he added.

It was a slow twenty steps. With each one, she tried to raise her resolve, and failed.

Claude wiped his face with a napkin, then waited.

She finally stood before him once more. Her eyes were on his chest, her body tense.

Silence reigned.

The cleaning bot came in once more, and began cleaning the mess he hadn't managed to hit her with.

It left.

At last, he said, "I've been thinking, Renee." He leaned back.

"...sir?" she ventured.

"Yes, I have been thinking. Pondering, I suppose, on your obstinacy. I would have thought you would know better than to openly defy me."

"Sir, I-"

"Quiet." He waved a hand and she closed her mouth. "Now, normally, I would have punished you for that interruption. Taught you your place. But," he frowned. "I don't think these little nudges are going to do it. You seem to be under the delusion that you...are worth something. Deserve more, mayhap?"

She said nothing, but he could hear her mind. Yes, she deserved more. She thought of Claude as a-a strong bully, but little else. Her mind was already going over more escape ideas. He did not have her full attention.

His hand flashed out like a snake, grabbed her throat, and pulled her close. Now her eyes were wide. Her heart pulsed under his fingers.

"Sir-"
He squeezed the sentence out of her, and threw her bodily to the corner of the room. She lay there, panting. Her ribs rose and fell feverishly. The chastity belt cut a line in the flesh of her buttock.

"Renee, I could do many things to you. To show you how little you matter. Show you where the power lies. But...I think I am going to allow you the opportunity to show yourself."

He opened her program, gave his words top priority.

"You are to sit there, Renee, until I tell you differently. In that exact spot. You may not lift your little ass from the floor for any reason. Understand?"

He shocked her until she affirmed.

He returned to the dining room eight hours later. She had pulled her knees up to her chest- unsurprising, as he had turned the cooling up. The room couldn't have been more than sixty F.

She sat in a small puddle of urine.

He wrinkled his nose at the smell and sat at the table. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her try to stand- probably thinking his presence had released her. The pain that gripped her was beyond any of those previous shocks- and only at a five. She curled into a ball and silently screamed in agony.

As soon as her ass was on the floor, her suffering began to dissipate.

She didn't move after that, but watched as his steaming meal was served by a bot. He ate it in front of her, savoring every bit. When he finished, he left exited, leaving her to her thoughts and filth.

***

He lay in bed, listening to the girl two floors below. The thermostat had gone down for the night, and she was now trying desperately to fight the numbness invading her body- all without lifting herself from the floor.

Renee was hungry, too. She hadn't eaten for the entire day. He had left the remains of his meal on the table, so she could see them, and ordered the bots away from that room. The food was barely ten feet away, but she couldn't touch it. She had tried- more than once- but the pain forced her down again and again. She was, he was satisfied to see, feeling helpless.

I won't let him win. She thought. He can't keep me here forever. One of the sisters will begin to wonder why I haven't written back. I can bear it, until then.

Claude grinned. He hadn't dropped that little bomb yet- the simple fact that she was barely more human than the bots that cleaned the floors. Her whole history was a joke, some code written into a machine.

Her best friend Ella who was terrified of spiders, but wouldn't harm them, and always made Renee capture and release them outside.

The daring escapades she had made to the terminals, looking up books and information the sisters had forbidden her to see.

Sister Claire, who Renee thought of, in her heart of hearts, as her mother.

Learning grudging how to cook.

All of it.

All a lie.

She was crying. No desperate sobs, not yet at any rate. Homesickness, mostly. Her hope for rescue had opened a can of memories that did nothing but make her current situation that much harder. Slow tears down her face- she hardly noticed.

She wondered if she'd end up shitting on herself, too. She didn't think she was in danger of it yet, but for all she knew he planned on leaving her there for...for forever.

No. She thought. Don't ever think it. You're stronger than he is. Even with that...force-field, or whatever, around the house, there has to be a way out.

And there will be a terminal, somewhere. You can call for help.

Upstairs, Claude was already circumventing the half formed plan. A few thoughts, and the terminal was locked against her. She'd be in for a nasty surprise, when she found it.

It's going to be okay. She assured herself. He knew she didn't quite believe it. She was afraid of him coming into her room again, and her mind flinched away from what had happened before. I've got this. She stroked the freezing chastity belt. And I have the key.

He can't get me.

It'll be okay.

Claude cut off the connection as her thoughts began to circle. He was a bit disappointed- she hadn't even begun to question his seemingly 'magical' ability to force her to do things. It was probably a default setting in the syns, he mused. He'd chatted with some other owners, and most seemed to want them to be as real as possible.

But those were the desperate. The ones who wanted love.

He'd met the others like himself. They were living in reality. They knew as well as he did that a syn wasn't human- which was a good thing, considering what was done with them. Claude had done his research. Case after case had assured him the legality of his actions.

Not that I've had much, he thought sullenly. He ruminated on how long he had daydreamed about her. Waited for her. And here he was, going to bed without having fucked her once today.

Wait. Just be patient. You remember what the others said- you need to start out slow.

Slow and steady. Win the race.

He sighed and called up the recording from last night. Jerking off was a poor substitute for what he wanted- what he needed. But it would have to do.

For now.

He ambled into the dining room late that morning. The nearly naked girl in the corner watched hungrily when he shoved the leftovers from the night before on the floor. The plate shattered, spilling the rice and meat; the a few drops of water left in the cup speckled the tiles.

Claude released his hold on the bots, and one came in to clean up his mess. Renee moaned almost inaudibly as it swept the food bits into its cubical body.

Then breakfast arrived. Far, far more than he needed. A buffet. He piled food onto his plate, relished it all. It was easier, he realized, to enjoy something when someone else wanted it more. She said nothing, though she watched him eat with imploring eyes.

He was refilling his glass when she dared to speak.

"Master, could I please-"

A shock wave of pain rolled over her and ended her entreaty. She doubled over, clutching her head.

"I did not invite you to talk, Renee," he said deliberately. She could hear him, even as her skull seemed to split in two. She'd been made to hear him. "When I do so, you may. But if you interrupt my breakfast again, I'll remove your ability to speak at all." He turned back to his food.

After five minutes or so, the slow explosion in her head dissolved. The girl leaned against the wall, watching, shivering every now an again.

He consumed the eggs left on his plate, then exited, leaving the food to torment her.

In the end, though, Renee didn't break first. Claude did.

He had planned to leave her there for at least one more day. Maybe throw a glass of water on the floor, so she'd not become too dehydrated. But when he saw the pitiful form huddled in the corner, her thoughts now focused entirely on the meal only a few feet from her, he knew he couldn't wait.

"Renee," he said. "Wake up."

She was awake already, had been since he walked into the room. She'd feigned sleep, trying to give herself more time.

He stood tall over her.

"Have you learned your lesson, dear?"

I'm not your "dear," she thought. Out loud:

"Yes, sir."

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then go on, come eat once you clean the piss and shit off yourself." He said, contemptuously, "I hadn't thought I'd have to potty train you, too."

Renee flushed, a mixture of shame and anger. She bit back a retort, guessing correctly that he wanted her to retaliate. That he would like to punish her.

She said nothing.

Claude was pleased. She was finally learning some control.

She hesitated before she lifted herself from the floor, Claude noted. Paused almost imperceptibly. He was relieved to see that- he'd started to worry that she wasn't going to condition at all.

But no shock hit her. She left the room at a dignified speed, and returned thirty minutes later. Breakfast had been removed, and Claude sat at the head of the table.

Renee was sparkling clean, and wore a silken blue dress. She seated herself serenely, no hint of the emotion boiling under the surface of her skin. Of course, Claude could feel it- he could have removed it, too, had he wanted to. But he let the girl keep her anger. It was irrelevant to his purposes.

He summoned the bots to serve the meal; the food barely left their grips before Renee snatched it up, eating with the kind of speed people only managed after long fasting. She might feel sick later, Claude thought, but he didn't stop her. He briefly considered punishing her for not waiting for his permission to sit, and eat, but...he had other plans for this night.

He opened her controls, as he had practiced in VR. A command screen seemed to overlay his vision, full of dials and information. Renee's information. No, more than that- Renee.

He found the one he needed, a red knob with the label "Sexual Arousal." It was turned all the way down. About a quarter around, one of the tick marks was highlighted in red.

He tapped it up, just a tad. Across the table, Renee froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. Claude grinned, twisted it a bit more, and the girl's breath hitched in her throat, a wave of heat running through her body. She saw the food hanging in midair, put it in her mouth fast, and chewed with such concentration, you'd have thought she had forgotten how.

She's trying to pretend nothing's happening, Claude thought. And, I wonder how long she will last?

He rotated it more, halfway to the red. At first it didn't seem to do anything, but then Claude saw the tremble as she reached for her glass, and the slight shifted of her body as she tried to find a new position in her seat.

She was still eating, mechanically; when Claude stood, she didn't notice. He walked to her end of the table, keeping one eye on the dial and another on the mesmerized girl in front of him.

He turned it up another notch, and this close, he heard her moan, low in her throat. One of her hands started to reach below the table, jerked to halt, and went for some strawberries instead. A strap on her dress had fallen off of her shoulder.

When Claude's hand fell on the revealed skin, she jolted back into herself. The dial started to drift back to zero, but Claude held it in place. Raised it.

"What-" she began.

"Keep your hands on the table, Renee," Claude said. He stroked the curve of her neck and she shuddered.

He reached past her, when his head was next to hers, he heard the near gasps in her breathes. Another turn, and she was panting for real.

When he finally gained the edge of the dress, she gave a slight cry of objection. She tried to remove her hands, and push him away, but they may as well have been glued to the table.

He pulled the silk back. Underneath, she wore nothing but the belt.

But that was okay.

Claude reached into his pocket. When Renee saw the object he removed, she stood fast and attempted to yank her hands away from the table.

Claude harshly shoved the seat forward, forcing her to sit.

"Sit," he growled.

"Don't-"

He cut it off with a blast of pain. She screamed; he turned the dial higher, and the pain down; the shriek turned first into a groan, and then into a whimper of desire.

He met no more resistance as he slipped the key into the lock. He undid it, removed the metal object with a quick command at Renee. The minute the thing was off, she snapped her legs together again.

Claude sighed. More pain opened them.

"What are you d-doing to-" she began. He twisted the control. "t-to- ungh... m-me?"

He didn't bother replying. The cleft between her legs was clearly visible, not one hair to hide it. He planted a hand between the two limbs, fondling the soft skin. The muscle underneath was hard, straining to close the vulnerable gap.

He unzipped his pants, released his own straining muscle.

He didn't bother with the dial now, his concentration was shot. Claude wiggled two fingers through Renee's outer lips. They slipped in easily. If she had been wearing panties, they would have been soaked, she was so wet.

With his other hand, he grasped his dick.

He found the nub of her clit and she let out a shuddering, nearly inarticulate word.

"Please," she said.

He didn't know whether it was a plea for him to halt or continue. Intrigued, he glanced. Even though her whole body was practically begging him to go on, all of the coherent thoughts in her head were focused on one thing:

Stop.

Don't.

No.

The fact that she was trying- and failing miserably- against him made his blood rush and his dick painfully hard. He began stroking both himself and her. She strived to ignore it, tried to beg him off, but her body betrayed her. Her hips began to rise as he stimulated her more and more, until she was almost off of the seat. She made soft 'ah' sounds, the pitch of her voice rising in unison with her hips.

Her whole body went rigid and she peaked with a long, drawn out moan.

Barely a second behind, Claude came. He collapsed over the chair and onto her shoulder bonelessly. Both of them were breathing hard. Her hair stuck to the sweat on his face.

He removed his hand from her sore crotch, wiped the slimy wetness on her dress and left her there. He didn't need to look to know her thoughts.

As the door closed behind him, he thought he heard a sob.

Renee tried to skip breakfast.

Claude waited for a good thirty minutes, knowing she wasn't planning to come down. She'd sat in the shower for hours the night before, and had fallen asleep in there. Only when he'd had the computer turn the water cool had she gotten out and gone to bed.

She drifted off with her mind turning circles around what had been done to her- how it had made her feel. She woke with the same questions.

How could he do that to me?

Why wouldn't- or couldn't- I run?

Renee didn't know. But she thought she could keep it from happening again. She just needed to avoid him. If she stayed away, maybe, just maybe, he would forget about her.

Maybe.

She felt tears begin to rise and bit them back. No more crying, she thought fiercely. It won't help. Don't give him the satisfaction.

Claude climbed the stairs and stood outside of her door, getting a mental map of what lay inside.

Renee was curled in a ball around a pillow, trying to will away the hopelessness that invaded her to the core. She wore a light cotton nightgown; she'd tried to put on day clothes- something she would have felt safer in- but the wardrobe had only opened to sleep wear. She had buried herself under the comforter, safe in the darkness.

Claude took a deep breath, mostly to calm himself, and then burst in. The door slammed into the wall and ricocheted shut as he strode to the bed.

He tore the blanket off and threw it aside. The girl underneath scrambled backwards, but Claude grabbed her by an ankle and pulled.

Renee slid down the mattress toward him, her nightgown rolling up as she did so. She tried to twist out of his grip, and find a purchase on the soft sheets, but failed. He dropped the ankle when her butt was just at the edge.

He stood between her legs, his knees to the bed. The nightgown had bunched up under her back. One breast was exposed, and it rose up and down fast as she gasped for air. Her eyes were wide, the pupils dilated, and he wondered what she was thinking.

Had he checked, he would have seen her mind was filled with but one emotion- and that was fear.

But Claude didn't look. He kept his eyes locked with hers; stretched out a hand to that truant breast, with the care one takes around a wild animal, and grasped it with a strong hand. Her heart rate seemed to double under his touch. The tiny breast was firm, not quite yet as pliable as it would be in a few years. The nipple was just a pink ring, soft.

He stroked it with his forefinger, and Renee finally seemed to awaken. She raised two shaking hands at the wadded garment at her chest, attempting to put it to back.

Claude stole both wrists, snake fast, and slammed them down, next to her shoulders. He leaned over, with a painful amount of weight on her arms, his face barely an inch from hers.

"I expect you to be at every meal, Renee," he said softly. "Every meal, every day, wearing suitable clothing. What's your excuse?"

"I-" she fought to think of something that he might accept. "I was- I mean-"

He let go of an arm and slapped her across the mouth, cutting off the words. He resumed his hold and waited until the dazed expression left her face before speaking.

"There are no excuses," he finally said. "You will obey me, or you will be punished."

"I'm- I'm sorry. I didn't-"

He slapped her head in the other direction.

"Did I not just say, 'there are no excuses'? And you still try and give me that bullshit?" He slapped her once more to stop her struggling. "Be still. When you transgress, you will be disciplined. Understand?"

She was crying, but she nodded jerkily.

"Good." He transfered her small wrist to his left hand, and held both pinned to the bed. With his free hand he began unzipping his pants.

Except for the two bright spots on her cheeks, she paled.

"D- Master, p-please. I'm sorry," she whispered. "Please don't hurt me. I'm sorry."

He ignored her and pushed the pants down, just enough to liberate his straining erection. She couldn't see it, but when he pressed the tip to her slit, he interrupted her entreaties with,

"Renee. I have told you, multiple times. Speak only when you are spoken to."

She fell silent.

He continued, even though his dick demanded access. She needed this.

"You disobeyed me, Renee," he said. "Repeat this: 'I disobeyed my master. I deserve to be punished.'"

She stared at him dumbly.

Claude prodded her with his head, stretching the opening, and she gasped.

"Say it," he commanded, and backed up the order with a mental blast of pain.

She took a shuddering breath.

"I- I didn't obey my m-master," she said haltingly. "I...deserve...I deserve it."

He shook her. "Deserve what?"

She closed her eyes. "P-punishment."

At that he gripped her shoulders, and thrust in. Her ass had dropped off the bed when he shocked her; as he pushed, it pressed severely against the bed frame. She tried to shift, but he held her in place, and with every plunge he made inside of her, she felt like her spine was going to break.

Renee tried to speak, tell him she was going to die, he was going to kill her, but all that came out were nonsense syllables and groans that, to an outsider, might have been taken for lust. Claude knew better, though, and it excited him more. He doubled his efforts, his hands vice-like on her shoulders. She slapped her hands at his chest, pleaded for him to stop, and cried.

None of it made a difference.

She surrendered at last. She went limp and let herself be swallowed by the pain. She tried to force her mind away, but every sharp throb- from her back, her neck, and, worst of all, from what the Sisters had called her "hidden place" - flung her back into this reality, with his harsh, fast breaths, his sweat raining down on her, and his terrible, engorged thing breaking her insides.

And then, when he gave one colossal heave- she actually heard the heavy bed slam into the wall- it released its load and deflated. He seemed to deflate a little too, as all the muscles in his body relaxed in an instant.

Claude gazed at the ashen faced child underneath him. There were precursors of bruises on her shoulders and face, bright red splotches that would probably fade by the next day.

They wouldn't show, that is. He'd specified marks weren't to stay. They'd still be there, and still remind her of how she got them with every bump- but her beauty would be unmarred.

He pulled his limp penis out from her. She didn't wince, didn't move- she might as well have been dead.

Claude set the nightgown in its proper place and put a gentle hand on her wet cheek.

"Renee."

She stared blankly at the ceiling.

"Renee. Look at me."

She didn't want to, but even through the numb fog in her head, she realized that defiance right then would be disastrous.

Her empty eyes left the ceiling and met his cool ones.

"Did I hurt you, Renee?"

The eyes filled with tears, but she held them back.

"Yes, sir." It came out in a choked sob.

Claude nodded solemnly. "Good." He kissed her forehead. "It was supposed to. If you are a good girl, though, it won't happen again."

Renee fought back the mad inclination to laugh. Of course it would happen again.

He propped himself on one elbow above her.

"In fact, if you stop upsetting me, I might let you enjoy yourself." His spare hand crept under her gown. "You would prefer that, wouldn't you? If it didn't hurt so much?"

She bit back her first responses- that she would prefer he stayed away from her. She'd prefer it if he were experiencing an agonizing, horrific death. On fire.

But those answers would likely make him hurt her again.

She didn't say anything.

His hand snaked further in, and two fingertips brushed her tender outer lips. Renee closed her eyes, resigning herself to another humiliating session. She wouldn't be able to escape. She hadn't been able to last time. He would touch her, make her want more, make her groan for more; at that point, even if she could run, she doubted she would.

Renee felt a tear roll past her ear.

Disgusting, she thought. You are disgusting. Are you really giving up, this easily?

No. But I can't fight him.

Then don't. Not now. But don't lose yourself, either.

She wondered if the warning was too late, for she certainly wasn't the girl she had been on arrival to this hell.

Her musings disintegrated as she felt his fingers part her lips, moving from one side to another, and arriving at the source of her pain.

Claude waited until she opened her eyes again. As she peeked out under her lashes, he twitched his finger.

The girl winced.

She's still sore, he thought. I'll need to be careful if I want her to enjoy this.

Do I want her to?

She will need to like it, if I want her to turn her into my very own little whore.

And she does gets so angry at herself, he thought bemusedly.

He was starting to go stiff again, just knowing that a second hard fuck would probably have her hobbling all day.

What to do...

And then he struck on an idea.

"Renee," he said. "What do you want?" She didn't have a choice, not really. But her answer would give him something to go on.

She opened her closed eyes, searching his face to see if he was serious.

'I want you dead.' He heard he think. 'I want to go home.' Both answers were obviously impossible, and she dismissed them. She struggled to think of something viable.

"Could I please...have a shower, sir?" she eventually replied.

Claude laughed.

"A shower? That's what you really want?"

He nudged the spot again, but her face didn't waver.

"Yes, sir. A shower."

He sighed theatrically. "Very well." He removed his hand.

She seemed to doubt Claude's offer, but when he didn't stop her, she muttered a 'Thank you, sir' and began moving.

He let the girl wriggle out from underneath him and stumble to the bathroom. The answer, and her thoughts, had entertained him quite a bit. He absentmindedly rubbed his dick, wondering what to do next.

He heard the water turn on.

Claude left the bed and removed his pants. He followed Renee's path to the bathroom door. It had been locked, but the entire house was keyed to him. He didn't even need to think- the door opened at his touch.

Renee whirled around, droplets of water flying from her hair. As they flew past the edge of the tub, they burst into tiny blobs of steam.

Claude paid her no attention. He walked to the toilet, closed the lid, and sat down. He faced her now, crossed one leg over the other. His penis pointed merrily at her bewildered face.

He waved a hand. "Don't mind me. Just here for the show."

"What...'show'?" she asked. Pain blossomed in her temple and she dropped to one knee with a cry.

What did I do? What did I do? she thought frantically.

"You forgot something, Renee," Claude said.

Wha- it came to her. "Master!" she said. "What show, master?" The surge evaporated. She found herself kneeling, her head pressed hard on the rim of the tub. The hot water was already relaxing her tight muscles.

A hand brushed through her hair and she flinched back, slipped, and landed hard on the other side.

Claude laughed. "Careful. You might hurt yourself."

She glared at him.

"Especially if you don't watch your temper." He settled back. "As for the show, well that's obvious. The one you are going to put on."

I'm not doing anything for you, she thought.

He smiled. "Lay on your back, Renee."

She was down before she could stop herself. The water beat against her stomach and was splashing into her eyes. She raised a shaky hand to block it.

"Now then," Claude said. "Here." The spray from the shower narrowed. Instead of covering her body it was hitting, about, two inches of her thigh in a tight circle. Claude nodded. "That'll be easier."

Renee wanted to ask what would be easier, but she didn't dare.

"Spread your legs."

Oh, she thought. She knew what was coming. He had said that the first time.

But that didn't mean she'd just lay there at take it.

She ignored him, stood up, fast, and shut off the water. Planted her feet and told him to get out, and leave her alone.

She-

Renee stared disbelieving at her still prone form. Her legs were wide open, each touching one side of the bath. The water beat against that one spot of skin, the rest of it was gaining goose bumps in the chilly air.

That wasn't what she had told her body to do.

She twisted her head. Claude was fixed on her body. She couldn't see below his chest, not from her angle, but she knew what he was holding in his right hand.

"What-"

"Relax, Renee," he said. "I do think you're going to like this."

"I don't want to like it," she said, more sharply then she had intended.

His eyes twinkled with amusement. He leaned forward, and put a cold hand on her stomach.

All of the sudden she was trembling. She didn't want to be, she didn't want to show him the fear that was leaching through her, but what she wanted didn't seem to matter right now.

"I could do that for you, Renee," he murmured. "I could make you scream, and make it so even you wouldn't know whether it was due to the pleasure or the pain.

"Or I could make it hurt-" he pushed down hard and she gasped. "-hurt so much, you'd want to die, just to end it." She clutched his arm, tried to shift it aside.

No use.

He smiled, lifted the hand.

She drew a weak breath.

"I could even make you beg me for more," he said. "Make you want me to hurt you." He tussled her wet hair. "But today, I just am going to watch."

"I won't do anything."

"Yes," he said confidently. "You will."

His surety left her cold.

"You- you can't force-"

"Lift your hips," he interrupted.

They rose in the air.

Renee stared at them as if they were a stranger's.

"No," she said. "That's... how-"

"Enough." Claude said. "Do as I say."

She involuntarily repositioned her body. When the stream of water hit between her legs, she flinched, and tried to close them. Claude barked another command and she was unable to move at all.

He didn't say anything, but the stream changed, started pulsing. It hurt at first, but a wave of slow heat seemed to travel through her body, stealing away the pains, until the only thing she felt was the varying pressure of the water, striking the the folds of skin at the place Claude had only just vacated.

A low flutter invaded her stomach.

She shuddered, unable to help herself. The feeling wasn't unpleasant- not at all, in fact- but she only had to glance to her left, at his leering eyes, and any satisfaction she felt was replaced with nausea.

She could handle this, though. The ache in her gut was restrainable.

Another order.

Her traitorous hand left her side, and reached below. It spread apart those lips with two fingers she could not control.

The water, seemingly excited at this turn of events, doubled its intensity. Without the protection, it hit dead on, and the cascade seemed to awaken something...hungry, inside of her.

Her breath hitched, her heartbeat escalated. Renee could feel its throbbing demand below, for more.

She arched her back instinctively, angling herself to better receive the stream. Her legs strained against his command, wanting to close, needing to close, this was too much.

A finger slipped its hold, and bumped against the spot where it was all happening.

"Ah-"

Waves went through her as the water beat down. She tried to remind herself who was watching, tried to stop the horribly wonderful sensations invading her, but the spray didn't stop and she couldn't either.

"Ah-"

The pressure grew. She felt every drop, filling the hole that clenched and unclenched on the liquid, begging to be occupied by something more concrete.

A guttural sound emerged from Renee's lips, one she'd have not thought herself capable of. Her body suddenly tightened, and a flash of white blinded her vision.

It was the best thing she had ever experienced.

And then it was gone. The water that had felt so fantastic slapped against her without ardor. She was just lying in a tub, naked, her fingers pressed between her thighs.

She glanced to her left, and only just managed to close her eyes before Claude's climax. She felt it splatter across her body and face.

She heard him stand.

The water changed settings again, back the way it had been before he'd entered. The light rain rinsed away his mess, warmed her.

The door opened.

"I'll see you at lunch," he said.

It closed.

She curled to one side, and lay there long after he had gone. She didn't weep. She was through crying; she had sworn.

She tried to forget what had happened.

Impossible.

She tried to at least stop it from looping through her mind.

Nothing. She could still feel his gaze, still feel his semen covering her body, still-

She lurched to the drain, her stomach heaving. The vomit disappeared as fast as everything else had.

Strangely, after she was done retching, she felt better. Not okay, but better. She was able to stand, able to wash- and wash, and wash. She was sudsing herself for the fifth time when she realized she didn't know what the hour was- couldn't even guess how long she'd been in there, or when she'd started.

She scrambled out, and into a dress from the wardrobe. She didn't check the clock, knowing that if she did, she'd see she was late. She dashed down the stairs to the hall outside the dining room.

The door was closed, and she paused for a moment to catch her breath before going in. Paused to recover her courage.

Only for a moment.

She pushed the door open and walked in, gaze straight ahead. She saw Claude out of the corner of her eye, reading something, and a sharp pang went through her.

She ignored it and reached her seat without incident. Everything that had happened ran through her brain again, rekindling her queasiness, but that, too, passed.

The robots served the meal.

She ate without enthusiasm; ate because she knew she could be forced into the corner again.

How? she thought. How can he force me to do that?

Not just the corner. in the bathroom. And before, too.

The question rose in her throat and she forced it down. No doubt he'd punish her if she spoke up.

But she needed to know.

She found herself glancing at him, then back at her food, again and again. Each time she tried to find the nerve to say something- and kept failing.

Claude was listening in on this dilemma with considerable amusement. If she did manage to talk, he would shock her- he was somewhat dismayed he'd been so lax thus far.

He waited for her curiosity to get the better of her.

He waited, and kept waiting.
The girl was too afraid.

Her peeks at him were becoming an annoyance.

"What is it, Renee?" he finally snapped.

She froze and stared at her plate. Mumbled something.

"Speak up," he said.

She took a deep breath.

"I have a question, sir."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes?"

Another noisy inhalation.

"H-how did you make me do...do those things, sir?"

He didn't bother to ask her what "things" she meant. "What if I told you I wasn't forcing you to do anything?"

She stared at him. Inside, she thought, I'm not stupid. I wasn't in control.

The silence stretched and then he broke it.

"You really want to know?" he asked.

Renee nodded.

"Hmm." He poked at his food. "What would you be willing to do for it?"

She shivered as a chill rolled through her.

What would she do?

I have to know, she thought. I can't fight if I don't even know how he does it.

But-

What more can he do? Moreover, anything he might do, he'll probably do eventually anyways.

That's later.

And later I might not have this chance.

I need this info.

She closed her eyes.

"Anything," she said. "I'll do anything, sir."

A slow smile crept onto Claude's face. "Then come here."

Renee didn't hesitate. She left her chair and walked to him only slightly more slowly than her usual pace.

He pushed his food away.

He examined the girl as she stood before him. The slight curves of her hips, her small hands clasped in front, the hair that was still damp spilling over one shoulder. She stared at the floor, her whole body taut.

"First," Claude said. "First, I'll set up some ground rules.

"No fighting me.

"The only words I'll hear out of your mouth will be demands for more. I don't want any more protests.

"Just those two. Understand?"

She bit a lip, then-

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He unzipped his pants. "Get onto your knees. You're going to try this again."

Renee dropped. She let him guide her head to his lap, when his penis bumped her lips, she opened her jaws.

It slid across her tongue roughly, saltily. She quelled the urge to vomit again, and focused instead on the job: just do what he wanted. Do what he said, and get the information. She had done this before, she could handle it.

She hoped.

Claude told her what to do.

Renee reached with one hand and hesitantly grasped the shaft of his penis. He grunted at the touch and drove forward, filling her mouth.

She panicked and unthinkingly began to jerk back, but he was already withdrawing. She glanced up and saw he was watching her, still with that same, harsh smile on his face.

His hands tightened their hold in her hair and yanked her away. He stood, dragging her up with him, and propelled her to the table.

"Sir-" she began, bewildered.

"Quiet," he snapped. "Bend over."

She evidently wasn't moving fast enough, because he shoved her down with one hand, her face slamming an inch away from the jam. With his other hand he lifted the dress- she vaguely thought she needed to find pants- and tossed it up.

He groped her ass cheeks with both hands and squeezed, painfully.

"Perfect," he said. "You are just...perfect." He took her hands in his and place each on a cheek.

"Spread them," Claude ordered.

Confused, she did so. Without her hands to keep her front end balanced, her breasts and face were pressing into the wood table in a decidedly unbearable manner.

"Yes," he said. "Just like that."

Claude's touch sent her trembling.

She felt his hand caress her back, slide along her spine, until it found the crevice her hands had opened.

He moved on, one finger easily found what it was looking for.

He positioned his dick in front of the hole.

Renee felt it, and sudden realization hit her. She tried to look back, tried to check and assure herself that she was mistaken.

She saw his face, full of gleeful anticipation, and her stomach dropped.

He pressed at it, slowly widening the orifice.

No, Renee thought. I won't.

She began to stand, and was rudely shoved back down.

"No resistance, dear," Claude said cheerily. "Don't you want to know what you are?"

Yes, she thought bitterly. But-but not like this.

How else? He's the only one who can tell you.

She turned her head, her vision obscured completely by the table. She didn't want to watch what he was going to do.

He took her silence for the assent it was, and busily began widening the tight hole. He considered ordering her to relax, but such a command would have been impossible for her to obey.

This is taking too long, he thought.

Fuck it.

Claude plunged in, heedless of her sudden, frantic attempt to bolt. He kept his hands on her back, bearing down with his weight.

She couldn't move.

Renee bit her lip to keep from screaming as he penetrated more deeply.

He ceased for a moment and she thanked god for the respite.

"Look at me, Renee."

She turned her head, her eyes met his.

His gaze still on hers, he thrust once, quick and hard, and she sucked in air.

"Do you want more?"

She shut her eyes tightly.

No, no, no-

"Yes, sir."

"'Yes' what?"

"Put it inside of me. Please," she said tonelessly.

"Look at me," he said. Her less than enthusiastic words had irritated him.

She reluctantly opened one eye, and he drove into her again.

He saw with satisfaction the tears fill her eyes, and plowed her into the table again. Her muscles bunched around the invader, gripping it maddeningly.

He shook the dishes with his effort; one fell off and shattered, but he was too far into her to notice.

Renee had released her hold, and both her hands lay uselessly at her sides.

Claude impaled her for an eternity, she thought it would cut her in two, and ejaculated inside, groaning.

The girl moaned as he pulled out of her in relief. A dull ache was already settling into her ass, but she no longer felt as if an axe was inside of her.

Claude leaned forward and put a mouth against her ear.

"You're a good little whore, Renee," he said softly. "You obeyed well."

I'm not a whore, she thought.

Claude laughed. "You offered to do "anything" for me, in exchange for something else. Is that not the definition of a whore?"

His words seemed to hurt her almost as much as his penis had. She clenched her fists, the fingernails bit into her skin.

I'm not a whore.

But she wasn't sure she still believed it.

When he stepped away from her, she slumped to the floor.

Claude squatted beside her and patted her cheek.

"Don't feel so bad, Renee. I'll let you in on the secret."

She tried to crush the sudden hope inside of her. This was it, this was what she needed to escape.

"You were made to be one," he continued. "My own little, perfect whore." He ran a hand through her hair.

Her eyes widened. "What-" she began, thinking, that's impossible.

Claude rolled his eyes at her thought. "You're my toy. I bought you, from a corporation, to fuck." He waved a hand at her weak protest. "Those memories of yours? I designed them. The sisters at that orphanage, your friend Ella? I designed all of it. All of you."

"But..." she said. "I'm not a machine."

"Parts of you are." He tapped her forehead. "But not the ones that matter."

She shoved his hand away. "You're lying."

"Lying isn't nearly as amusing as the truth," he said. "You, my dear, are an imitation of human life. A very expensive one."

She was shaking her head in denial.

Claude frowned. He hadn't thought she'd need so much convincing.

"You're a synthetic human created to obey me, Renee. I own you. I can do what I want with you. Accept it."

He stood. "We're having guests tomorrow. For a party," he said, in response to her unspoken question. "I expect you to be on your best behavior."

Renee wanted to ask, 'a party for what?' But Claude was already leaving.

She didn't sleep well that night. Part of it was the unknown dread of whatever 'party' Claude was planning, part of her was afraid he wasn't done with her for the day- that'd he was going to violate her in places that still ached brutally.

She tried not to think about what he had told her- that she wasn't real. Even if it were true, it changed nothing.

I am human, she thought earnestly. Even if I was made.

I still feel. And I have memories...

And if they're all made up?

What will you do when- she refused to think 'if'- you escape?

Try and find the convent.

Yea, try and find a fake place from a fake memory. For all you know, everything in your head is wrong.

What if everyone is like him?

What if there isn't anywhere to go?

She drifted off into an uneasy sleep, broken only once as the sheets tangled around her, in a terrifyingly fixed embrace.

But he wasn't in the room.

She slept.

Claude wasn't at breakfast.

Renee waited for half an hour before she ate, but his seat remained vacant. As the robots cleaned away the dishes, she wondered what she was supposed to do. He hadn't left her any chores, hadn't forbidden her from going outside.

She didn't want to repeat her 'leaving the house' experience.

He's gone. Do what you can.

She left the dining room and began searching the house.

Most of the rooms on the second floor were bedrooms like her own- a bed, wardrobe, and a connected bathroom. There was one chamber devoid of any furniture, but the floor and the walls were padded.

The door next to the empty room was bolted shut.

Renee stared at it for a long while. It could be nothing. Maybe there were just...valuables, inside.

Yeah. Right.

She suppressed a shiver and moved on

Each and every room was the same. Not even one had a terminal.

She reached the end of the hall and dallied at the foot of the stairs.

Claude's room was up there, she knew. He hadn't expressly forbid her from going to the third floor, and she didn't believe he was home- he would have tormented her earlier. But he would come back, and could find out what she had been doing in his absence. If he knew she was looking for a way out...

She shook the thought out of her head. Fear wasn't going to help her escape.
Renee climbed, freezing at every creak, despite her pep talk. When nothing happened, she grew bolder and ascended quickly.

The third story's hall was shorter, and there were only six doors, as opposed to the countless number below.

They were all locked.

Now what?

She returned to the first floor. She had seen the library, and she had been in the dining room, but that was all.

If there is a place to eat food, there's a place to make it.

The kitchen was much smaller than she had anticipated. There was barely enough space for her to move between the appliances. It was obviously a room not built for humans.
Renee located the dishes the food was served on, and the cutlery as well.

She found the sharp cutting knives.

Her fingers itched to take one- just one- bring it to her bed. And wait.

Not yet.

I'm not a murderer.

Renee abandoned her investigation. If there was a terminal, it was probably in one of the rooms on the third floor. She'd need a key, and it was most assuredly with Claude.
The library was as untouched as it had been when she had arrived. She doubted he ever used it.

The girl uncovered the book she had hidden before; one full of short stories, just in case he decided to destroy it too. She passed the rest of the morning inside the tales, one ear cocked for the sound of the front door.

***

Renee nearly missed it, the book ensnared her so well. If Claude himself hadn't been preoccupied, she would have been caught.

She appeared at the entranceway as he walked in, and tried to blend into the shadows.
Behind Claude was another man, tall and hawk-nosed. He examined his surroundings almost with the air of one who is never pleased.

"It did look rather larger outside," he said nasally. "Are you certain you have enough room?"

Claude smiled, and it was not a smile she had seen before. It was...amiable, no hint of cruelty underneath.

"You've barely seen the rest, Henry. Relax."

He sniffed dubiously, but then he spotted Renee.

"That's her?" he asked Claude.

"Yes."

"Hmph. A bit skinny, wouldn't you say?" He strode forward, grasped her breast before she could protest, and gave a experimental squeeze.

Renee lurched back, shocked at his audacity and touch.

The man frowned. "You don't seem to have trained her very well."

"Why do you think I invited everyone?" His smile had an edge to it now. "And you know its more fun when they're still a bit...feral."

"Hmm." Henry snapped his fingers. Behind him, Renee saw a boy, perhaps her own age, holding a box that looked much too heavy.

He stepped through from the bright portal and glanced at Henry.

"Where do I tell him to put it?" Henry asked Claude.

Claude contacted the computer. A fist-sized bot flew in from the kitchen and hovered before them.

"Follow that," Claude said, but the boy already was.

Renee watched as he struggled up the stairs. He was thin- if he had any muscle, it was not very defined- and both the box and his wavy blond hair conspired to hide his face from hers.

She wanted to ask Claude what was going on, who were these people, but then more arrived.

It was another man, short, with a pronounced widows peak. Claude greeted him like an old friend, and directed the two girls carrying his luggage with another bot. They were younger than her, asian, and identical.

She didn't have long to look. Claude took hold of her shoulder and brought her forward for the new man's appraisal.

This one didn't touch her, but his eyes seemed to see through her clothes, through her mind. She wanted to run away, back to the library, or her room, somewhere away from them, with their probing eyes and prodding fingers.

But Claude held her. More people arrived, and he began directing them- after their degrading assessments- to the dining room for refreshments. Their baggage carriers were sent into a smaller room, connected to it; the door was half hidden in the shadows, and

Renee wanted to kick herself for having missed it before.

She noticed one thing.

All of the people Claude greeted, except for one, were men.

Most of the servants were girls. Not women- girls, all around her own age.

Finally, the stream of visitors trickled off. She breathed a sigh of relief when he sent her with the other girls- she had half expected him to put her on display.

Renee walked into the small chamber cautiously. A few groups had formed amongst the assembly, but most of them were standing or sitting by themselves. The two twins she had first seen before were holding hands in a corner, both sets of eyes warily scanning all of the people.

She took a deep breath, found an unoccupied spot of wall, and began walking to it.

So intent she was on remaining cool, she didn't see him until he was right in front of her.

The boy who had come in with the first man.

His curious green eyes met hers.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Simon."

Renee froze.

He held out a hand.

"You're new," he stated, as she hesitantly shook it. "What's your name?"

"Um-"

"Do you have one?" He asked the question kindly, like it was possible, even likely.

"Renee. My name's Renee."

He smiled, brightening as if the knowledge had made his entire day. It was a nice smile.

"Pleased to meet you, Renee." He released her hand. "I know, you're probably wondering why I'm talking to you. Sorry, if I freaked you out. I just like meeting the new syns, if I can, and maybe tell 'em what to expect, or answer questions- y'know."

"Why?" she asked.

"Someone did it for me when I started. It made everything less...scary." He shrugged.

"Oh. That's- that's really nice of you."

He laughed uncomfortably. "Not really. It's just what I've always done."

"How long have- I mean, how old are you?"

"Do you mean how old I think I am, or how long Henry's owned me?"

"Both, I guess."

"Well, he bought me when I 'thought,'" he quoted this with his fingers, "I was eight. But as you can see, I'm about fifteen now."

"You've...been with him for seven years?" Renee tried to imagine seven years captivity, and realized she didn't want to.

"Well, yeah. About that."

She was going to ask him how he could bear it- had he ever tried to escape? What had happened? Did he know anyone who had gotten away?

But her thoughts were interrupted.

A girl, tiny, with short black hair, abruptly halted next to them. She was holding her hands out, the way a person does to check their nails, but staring at them so intently, it was like she was expecting something to happen. Her eyes never left them as she spoke to the two.

"Have you seen them?" Her voice had an odd lilt to it, perhaps spoken with a lightness she did not feel.

Renee glanced at Simon, but he gazed fixedly at the wall, a tight smile on his face.

"Seen what?" she asked the girl.

"Mistress keeps taking them," she said, ignoring the question. "I try and be good, I do. I do. Why? Where did she put them? And why won't they give them back? I know they aren't right, I can tell." She suddenly shoved a hand an inch away from Renee's face "You see? They aren't the same."

"Er-" Renee wasn't sure what she was supposed to be seeing. The girl had a tiny, piano player's hand, and they looked fine.

"Please help me find them," the girl said, continuing her crazy monologue. "I've been good, and I looked everywhere. I just need someone else, I think. A partner would make the search faster, and maybe- maybe we could trick them into giving them to you. They won't do it for me." She was moving closer as she spoke, invading Renee's space. "If I get them back, it will be okay. I know it will. No one will help me. They're gone and-"

"Katie," Simon said sharply.

She stopped mid-sentence.

He took her shoulder and turned her around, whispering softly into her ear.

Renee saw the girl's eyes light up; she thanked him and wandered off to another person, hands still outstretched.

Simon returned to her side.

"I'm sorry about her," he said. "She's been like...that for the past year. I'm not sure why Emilee keeps bringing her...

"What happened to her?" Renee asked, still watching the girl. Katie was trying to get the attention of another group; all of them were deliberately ignoring her.

Simon ran a hand through his hair awkwardly. "You saw the lady out there, right?" He gestured to the dining room. "When she came in?"

Renee nodded. She was the only woman who hadn't been sent to this room.

"Katie's her syn. She's belonged to Emilee since she was, like, six. Long story short, she's starting to break down. It happens to all of us eventually, but...Emilee's really hard on all of hers."

"Hard...how?" she asked in a horrified whisper.

He glanced at the rambling girl and frowned angrily. "She has this goddamn thing for fingers. I mean-" he clenched his fists. "She doesn't just, y'know, mentally hit you. Her punishments are always something physical. And she really, really likes removing shit. Like fingers. Particularly fingers."

Renee's eyes were wide. "But- but I saw her hand-"

"Yeah." Simon nodded. "That's the fucked up part. That's probably what screws her so much. Emilee keeps getting Katie repaired, so bodily, she's fine. She must have had the things amputated a hundred times, at least. Now her brain's getting too traumatized. All of us are a little messed up, it's just what happens, but at some point..." he shrugged. "She's probably not gonna last another year."

"That..." Renee stared at the broken girl's back. "That happens to all the syns? We all 'break down?'"

"Every one I've seen," he said, grimacing. "But don't worry," he added hurriedly, "you've probably got years yet. Most of us are okay for fifteen, or twenty, even."

Renee looked at him. "What about you? You seem normal."

He laughed. "I'm definitely not. It just isn't as obvious."

"What's wrong with you?" she asked, before she realized it might be rude.

"My master changes my memories," Simon replied, not offended. "He pretty much cuts out all the bad ones, so...I'm 'normal,' if you want to call it that." He pointed to his forehead. "It makes it all a lot easier. And I kinda consider myself lucky, really. You should try and beg yours to do it."

"They can do that?" She felt sick. If they could delete memories, what else could they do?

"Well, yeah." He was looking at her strangely. "How...long have you been with your owner?"

She blushed. "About a week, maybe?" she was oddly self-conscious about the amount. It had felt far longer, yet she was talking to someone who'd been a syn for years. In his eyes, she was probably a baby.

"Only a week? And he's got everyone else over already?" He was frowning. "I'm sorry."

"W-why?" Butterflies in her stomach.

What could happen to her that hadn't already been done?

"Just- ack." He clutched a hand to his head. "Crap. I'm being," his lips twisted, "summoned. I've gotta go." He kissed her hand. "Thanks for talking. Good luck, and if you can...please don't watch."

"Don't watch what?"

He turned as he went out the door, walking backward, and gave her an unconvincing smile.

"Me."

She stared after him. From the other room, she heard laughter, and indistinct words, but nothing that would give her a hint to what was going on.

A hand clamped down on her shoulder and she had to stifle a scream.

"Hey." It was the high pitched voice of a woman.

Renee turned.

Before her was a young, blond beauty with the largest breasts she'd ever seen. The woman stared at her with a mixture of dislike and pity.

"Yes?" Renee asked.

"Don't get too close to anyone," the blond said. "Especially Simon."

"Why?" She found it hard to imagine the boy being a threat.

"You'll be hurt. And he is really good at it." Her warning accomplished, she spun around, and walked to her bit of room.

"Wait- what do you mean?" She took a step go after her. A crack ran through her head, and she stumbled to a stop.

Come here.

Claude's voice.

Renee glanced at the girl once more, wanting to understand what she had meant, and it felt like her brain was going to melt. Just the hesitation hurt.

She followed Simon's path out.

In the other room, the guests were all seated at the table. Claude was at the head, with Simon's master, Henry, a few seat down on his left. Simon stood next to him.

His face was pale.

"-swear," said Henry. He'd obviously been talking for a while, most of the people around him were listening avidly. "It'd be the best thing you ever did. It's like having two syns for the price of one. And-" he took Simon's wrist, and jerked him closer. "It makes every time the first time."

Renee reached Claude.

He barely looked in her direction as he lifted and placed her in his lap.

"They had a warning about messing with memories, I thought," he said to Simon's master.

Henry waved a hand. "It'll probably cut off a year or two, yes. But it's worth it. And besides, at that point you're already starting to get bored- you know." There were a few nods among his listeners.

"What happens if you give him both sets of memories?" asked someone down the table.

Henry snorted distastefully. "He's useless. He just lies there, sobbing. You can't get any reaction out of him."

Renee glanced at Simon. His eyes were closed. He looked like he was trying to pretend he wasn't there.

"What's he set at, now?" asked the woman- Emilee.

"What do you think, honey?" A predatory smile played at the edge of his lips. "Do you believe I'd really let you all miss out on his 'first' fucking?"

A few appreciative murmurs from around the table.

Renee felt Claude's hand grope up the inside of her thigh.

Her legs wouldn't close.

"I don't think I'm so much into boys, Henry," said a man. He had someone in his lap too. In fact, Renee noticed that there were at least five other girls around the table. Some were on the men, but others were on their knees.

"Oh, come now," said Henry. "You can't know until you try. And you've no idea how empowering it is, fucking a guy until he cries." He stroked Simon's cheek.

The boy was shaking.

Claude's hand pushed up her dress, found her panties, and slipped past them. Renee repressed a shudder as his cold fingers wiggled into her.

"Take off his pants," someone called. "Let's see what we'd be getting."

Henry glanced at Simon.

"You heard him, slut. Remove them."

For a moment it didn't seem as if he would. Renee held her breath, but then he lifted his hands and fumbled with his jeans, nerves making him slow.

Henry sighed. Simon suddenly screamed and dropped to the ground, in a fetal position, tears streaming down his face.

A few of the guests laughed.

Renee wanted to kill them.

"Faster," said Henry. The boy was obviously still being shocked.

The pants were off instantly. There was nothing underneath. Simon lay on the floor, with only his shirt for protection, chest heaving.

Claude's fingers were moving in a slow circle, getting closer and closer to the spot that made her body turn to water. She could feel his dick growing hard under his shorts.

"Well?" asked Henry. "Isn't it just the prettiest little ass?" He slapped it, hard, and Simon yelped from his space on the floor.

The sound seemed to awaken the others.

A bearded man stood up.

"First dibs," he said. "You bastards can wait your turn." He started unbuttoning his pants.
Another rose.

"I'm calling his mouth." He glanced at Henry. "It better be the best fucking head, ever. I'm willing to give it a go, but I'm not a goddamn faggot."

Henry rolled his eyes. "Yes, John," he said, mocking. "We know you're a man, you do so love to tell us at every opportunity. I've beaten most of the gag reflex out of him, so go nuts."

He giggled at his own words.

Others got out of their seats, choosing turns, and surrounded the boy.

Claude dipped inside Renee, but she was so horrified for Simon, she scarcely noticed.

Henry kicked him over, onto his back.

"Open your eyes," he commanded.

Simon did so.

"Get up."

The boy stood, trying to cover himself discreetly with his shirt. His eyes met hers once, and his face flushed with shame. He turned to the floor.

Henry shoved a chair in front of him.

"Bend over it," he said.

Simon, still trembling, looked at first from the chair, then to his master. He knew what was going to happen, and he knew he could do nothing about it- but he spoke anyway.

"Master- please. Please don't let them hurt me."

The words were barely out of his mouth before he shrieked and fell to the floor, again.

"On the fucking chair, Simon," said Henry.

He crawled upon it and collapsed.

Henry seized his hair and dragged him forward, until Simon's legs stopped the move. Half of his upper chest was without any support whatsoever, and he looked like he was having a hard time breathing.

Renee saw a man- the one who had claimed the first chance- walked forward and pet the boy's ass.

Simon was holding himself up with his hands. Another man pulled him violently by his hair, forcing his terrified gaze upward. His Adam's apple slid up and down as he swallowed convulsively.

He looked like he was trying to say something- trying to beg, maybe.

Renee lost sight of him as more men swarmed around.

Claude unexpectedly stood, lifting her painfully into the air with him, his fingers still in her.

He turned to the man next to him, a man Renee hadn't even noticed.

The man had obviously noticed her.

One of his hands was under the tablecloth, and both of his eyes were watching Claude's hand, the one that disappeared under her dress.

"I'm using her upstairs," Claude said roughly. "This is boring me. Do you want to come?"

His neighbor hesitated for a second, then simply said, "yes."

Renee heard muffled shouts and laughter, behind her, as they climbed.

The climb was short- but not short enough. Renee was still thinking about Simon.

That was supposed to be me, she thought. Claude set up this party, so that could be done...to me.

And it will be.

The conclusion frightened her, but it was comforting, in its own way. It meant that whatever happened now, wouldn't be as bad.

When looked at in the right light.

I can handle it.

Her optimism began to fade the moment Claude walked past her room. She knew what to expect, in there.

They were going to the end of the hall. To the locked door. To something unknown. And even through the fear, she thought, at least I'll know what's inside.

Claude twisted the knob. The door creaked open.

As Renee strained to glimpse the room through the crack, all of the lights went black.

Claude tossed her into the room, onto the floor. It was hard, and rough.

She hit with a jarring, knee-scraping suddenness.

Ow.

"Nice setup, you have here," said a voice behind her. Not Claude's- the other one's.

"Thank you," said Claude, in the darkness to her left. "But I don't think we'll be using anything, right now." She heard a metallic chink. "She isn't quite ready for these toys, I'd say."

"True."

Renee felt a hand slide along her neck, pushing the hair out of the way. She jerked away.

"You weren't lying," said the man, laughter lacing his words like poison. "She is green."

They can see me.

But I can't see them.

I can't see anything.

"Ah, there we go. My girl's catching on," said Claude. He was circling her. "Have some trouble with your eyesight, Renee?"

"What- what did you do to me?" She almost forgot to add the "sir."

"Just a minor adjustment. Something to keep us amused." He patted her head. "And of course, an opportunity for you. A...proposition."

She didn't ask him what. From the tone in his voice, she doubted she much wanted to hear.

"I'm going to offer you a chance- just one, mind- to leave. Would you like that?"

She nodded, shifting his hand from her, trying to quash the flare of hope. She shouldn't do that to herself, she knew.

"Here's your deal," he said. "You will have one minute to get out of here. If you leave the room, your vision will return. And if you fail to leave in time, well...we'll have some fun." He put his hands under her arms and lifted her to her feet. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes, sir." One minute may not have been a lot of time, but she could do it. She knew where the door was. Renee hadn't been thrown far.

I can get out.

I know I can.

"Your minute starts...now" said Claude. He released her.

She dashed in the direction she knew was right. Had to be right.

And ricocheted off something, hitting it too hard to even guess at what it might have been. It was solid. She was on the floor, the two mens' laughter ringing in her ears.

She shook her head, trying to clear it.

"Better hurry," she heard one of them say. "Forty seconds."

Okay, it's okay. I still have time. If it wasn't that direction-

Renee stood unsteadily. She walked this time, arms outstretched, trying to ignore the voice telling her she needed to run- needed to go faster.

If she had been running, she would probably have fallen over the leg in her path, rather than simply stumbling.

"Careful, pretty."

She bit back a retort, kept going.

"Twenty seconds."

For a few terrifying heartbeats, she was blindly waving her hands in thin air.

"Fifteen."

She fought the urge to turn, or try a different way. There wasn't enough time.

Keep going.

"Ten. Nine-"

She touched something hard.

A door.

"Eight-"

She found the handle, relief flooding her system.

I did it.

"Seven-"

She twisted the knob, ready to step through.

"Six-"

It didn't move.

"Five-"

No. No, that can't be right.

"Four-"

She turned it harder, panic rising.

It wouldn't budge.

"Three-"

"You...you locked it," she said, disbelieving. "That's not fair."

"I never said you'd be able to get out," said Claude. They both laughed. "And, oh look at that, time's up."

She futilely twisted the handle one last time.

No good.

Someone pulled Renee backwards by the hair. She fell against bare legs.

"Wait," said Claude. Not to her.

She was lifted, until her feet were far off the ground. She kicked out, and was gratified to feel her foot connect with someone's body.

The satisfaction was short-lived. A hand she didn't see punched her in the face. Stars burst in the dark surrounding her, and blood began to flow from her nose.

"The little bitch hit me," said a voice. "She fucking hit me."

"Calm down, L