Chapter 16

Sing a song of six pence,

A pocket full of rye,

Fourteen blackbirds baked in a pie...

The new song was not nearly as catchy as the old. Renee was beginning to think that the whole method was losing its uncertain edge against his abilities.

She waited in his bedroom. She didn't want to be there, she hated the place almost as much as she hated the dark room- but Claude had made it quite clear he expected her in but one place, yesterday.

And her room had been locked.

Renee could hear the creaking of the stairs. She knew he knew she heard him. Knew he was loving the suspense, as her palms got wet and her heart sped up. Knew he was listening to her stuttering attempts at boosting morale.

I'm not afraid, she snapped silently. I'm not afraid of you.

His laugh echoed in her head, straight through the lie.

I-I'm not-

She couldn't help it- that laugh ignited a panic in her that Claude had been nurturing for months. She frantically scanned the room- a room she knew as well as her own body - for a way out...

... and, of course, there was none.

"Renee, dear, I'm home," he called, still in the hall.

Shit. Shit shit shit!

"I'm home and I am stressed."

The bed. Of course the bed. It's dark under there, he might not see me-

Renee scrambled to the floor, wincing as she landed.

-don't be a fool, part of her objected, but the panic didn't hear it-

-Yes. Maybe he- he'll be too tired to force you out-

She crouched down and began to crawl.

-and he'll get pissed and just command you, dumbass-

The door opened with a familiar click. For a brief moment, she froze, half under- like a rabbit that knows, no matter what it does, it is going to be killed.

-No! Nononono-

Renee feverishly inched deeper, knowing the whole thing was futile, but whatever part had convinced her about the knife- and the rhymes - made her keep trying.

"What's this... ? You aren't hiding from me, are you, Renee?"

A steely vice caught her ankle and she screamed - she must have screamed- kicking at the hold with her other leg.

Useless.

"You know I don't like it when you fight me, you little bitch," Claude murmured. "Come here."

Renee clawed wildly at the wooden floor- no purchase at all- as he easily pulled her out. The white dress -like all the fucking dresses- slid, revealing her shapely legs and pale bottom.

"Though it does make things just a tad more interesting." He grabbed her hips and lifted her from the hiding space. She barely avoided hitting her head as he tossed her onto the bed. Her stomach hit the edge, her knees met the floor, and her breath escaped in one choked gasp.

Claude slammed her down as the girl tried to push herself up.

"I think not." He pressed her into the sheets with one hand on her neck, the other creeping up underneath her dress, claiming the skin of her legs, her thighs, her back...

Renee went limp. This was it, it was over, the same outcome again and again. No matter what she did- he won.

Claude untied the neck of the light dress, and unzipped the back, until the girl lay naked before him.

Why bother fighting at all?

"That's right," Claude said. "Just be a good little syn." He ran his fingers down her spine, over her ass, and slipped them between her legs.

Renee shuddered as they entered her slit. Even though she knew it was pointless, she clamped her thighs together over the hand, trying to get it out.

"Now, now," said Claude. "None of that." He easily kneed her legs apart, removed his hand, and undid his pants.

The soft sheets bunched tightly in her hands as his manhood brushed against her lower lips.

Just let it happen. It'll be over soon.

But it wouldn't. Claude would hurt her, and keep hurting her, until she died. She'd only be free- only be safe- from him when she was gone. She'd be his slave until she was dead. And soon- it was already happening- she'd accept that despair and stop fighting altogether.

No.

Renee tried to kick Claude off her, but - of course - that could hurt him. Her legs remained inert.

The man laughed at the failure and pat her ass.

"Let. Me. Go," she growled. She reached and attempted to shift the arm pressing her into the mattress.

"What?" replied Claude. The tone turned Renee's skin to ice. "Did my girl just talk back to me?"

Oh shit.

Apologize!

Flames seemed to engulf her body, and a vice was crushing her skull. She couldn't even draw the breath to beg forgiveness- or to scream.

Claude shoved into her, and, impossibly, the pain increased. He must have been using the software in her head, because it had never hurt like this before.

Not this bad.

Or this long.

It was like time, in the haze of pain, froze. He thrust into her for an eternity, each movement hit her like a thousand bricks to the temple.

"... stopitstopstop-pleaseplease- stop it-" pleaded a hoarse voice. The moment she grew conscious to it, it ended. Renee realized the words had been coming from her.

And with that recognition, she grasped that the pain was gone, too. He was gone. She could think.

Without the hand pushing her into the bed, she slid to the floor.

"What do you have to say for yourself, girl?" Claude, behind her.

Go die, she thought viciously. She winced at the expected punishment- he'd probably heard it- but nothing happened.

She replied in monotone. "I'm sorry, sir."

"For what?" he prodded.

"I'm sorry for antagonizing you, sir."

"Good girl. Now, I think-"

The room went black.

"For Christ's sake," muttered Claude. There was a brief pause, then, " ... goddammit. The computer's down." He kicked the girl in the behind, briefly gratified as she hit the side of the bed, hard.

"The generators should be on, but they seem to have failed," he noted. "No doubt this is due to your disruption." No response from the still form. He wanted to kick her again ... but he could punish the brat later. No- he would punish her later. "I'm going to figure out what went wrong; once I deal with it, you're going to the dark room for a goddamn week."