Synthetic - Cover

Synthetic

Copyright© 2009 by aplgirl

Chapter 2

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 2 - 'Renee is a young "synthetic human." Bought by a dominating man who sees her as little more than a sexual plaything, she struggles to retain her identity - and her determination to escape - as her free will dwindles away.' Note: Although there is both a story and romance in the tale, there is a lot of rape as well (and not the story rape where the victim likes the rapist/being raped; I find that sort of thing kinda ridiculous).

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Ma/ft   Ma/mt   Consensual   Romantic   NonConsensual   Rape   Mind Control   Slavery   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   Humiliation   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Slow  

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.

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