Anthony was noticing a difference in Sophie this week, a difference that made his heart pound and his emotions soar, that made looser pants a necessity with how often Little Tony was standing at attention. She was as sassy as always, but there was a certain... air about her. As if she was happy in a way that she'd never been before. As if she felt content and in her place. As if she was... submissive.
He almost couldn't believe his luck. He knew she could've called an end to the bet at any time she'd wanted, but she hadn't. In fact, today she'd even shown up exactly as instructed - with no panties (her skirt had been so tight that a pantyline would have been obvious), and light tweezer clamps on her nipples beneath her bra. He'd allowed her the bra, of course. It wouldn't quite do for the rest of the facility to see the nipple clamps, which would surely happen with the shirt he'd chosen for her.
He had a leather corset and choker planned for tomorrow, and perhaps a tiny buttplug.
He wondered how far he could push her, how far she would give in to him despite her rather vocal protests. Could he make her orgasm in the office? Could he get her to try out the blowjob trainer, if he omitted the nipple torture and the armbinder? Could he get her to suck HIS cock instead of a lifeless one?
Little Tony seemed to like that thought.
Anthony had always disapproved of the new Director's goals for the facility. For one thing, the number of slaves in training had been doubled by adding an equal number of droids to real women. Sure, the droids were perfect - both in body and in their submission - but they lacked the raw emotions and sensuality that he believed was necessary in a slave. He derived no satisfaction from ordering robots around.
And all of the real women, with the sole exception of Number 239, had had a complete memory wipe before they had learning programs uploaded to them in the simulation. They retained zero sense of self. Everything they knew and believed and thought was what was fed to them via the computer.
Granted, every woman in the facility had signed up for the entire thing before the wipe was done - signed dozens of consent forms in fact. The laboratory couldn't have risked the legal repercussions otherwise. But what was the fun in the soulless beings that they had become? He wanted to watch a slave squirm and plead and blush and cry. Mindless obedience was akin to a Fleshlight, he thought. Gets really boring after a while and does nothing to excite his senses.
But that was Mason's goal. He had a slave who followed him around - Karen - and she was as mindless as any of the droids or soulless women in their simulations, in Anthony's humble opinion. In fact, he couldn't even be sure she was truly human. Oh, she probably was - their droids were heavily patented and the first of their kind, and their slave training programme had not yet produced a graduating batch. It simply hadn't been running for long enough.
But, regardless of whether she was human or droid, Karen was just about as attractive to him as a bar of soap. Sharp-tongued Sophie, on the other hand...
Speaking of the devil. A notification popped up on his screen, stating, "The Director wishes to see you in his office at noon." Anthony glanced at the time on his display - it was 11.45. Mason certainly wasn't one to give advanced notice, he noted with annoyance.
He was outside the Director's office at 11.55, regardless. He'd been inside only a few times throughout the entire 6 months that Mason had held the post. Not that he missed it - the office, under Mason's reign, was extremely minimalistic, to the point of appearing almost like the white sterile rooms of the slave training simulation. The previous Director had had much better taste, he mused.
"Come in," came the baritone reply to his light knock.
Anthony's gaze was immediately transfixed on the spectacle before him. In the centre of the room, a few feet in front of Mason's simple white desk, was Karen. She was completely naked and lying on what looked like a low, flat table. Her body was pulled back in an almost impossible arch in the tightest, most unforgiving hogtie he had ever seen. Elbows tied together, ankles attached right next to her bound wrists. Her jet black hair was tied into a braid, which was also attached to her ankles. Under the porcelain skin, her muscles strained with the exhausting task of holding her body up in a bow shape.
That wasn't all. She was surrounded by a fucking machine that pumped large black dildos into her mouth and pussy. Her breasts, lifted almost completely off the table by the position that the strenuous hogtie imposed upon her, had clover clamps on the nipples. The chain of the clamps was pulled hard and attached to a point on the floor - it quivered with each stroke of the machines.
"Well, stop gawping and close the door, will you?" Mason directed, raising an eyebrow at Anthony.
Anthony did as he was told, and then resumed staring at Karen.
"What do you see, Tony?"
"A slut being fucked," Anthony answered, too stunned to be anything but honest.
"What else? Look closer."
Anthony took a few steps forward. He could now see that Karen was almost gagging with each stroke of the dildos - it must be pushing deep into her mouth. Sweat trickled down her brow, and her large brown eyes were wet with tears. Drool dripped constantly from her painted lips, pooling in a small puddle on the table. She must have been here for a while. Inexplicably, he noticed that she wasn't merely being face-fucked - she was sucking on the dildo with each stroke, using her lips to buffer it from her teeth as she might have done in an actual blowjob. Why bother? he wondered.
Something had been shoved into her ass. Its large, bulbous purple end stuck out of it, attached to a wire.
"Demonstrate for him, will you, Karen?" Mason directed.
With a soft whimper, Karen assented, and let her teeth graze the fake cock in her mouth. There was a clicking sound, and almost immediately, her whimper escalated to an agonized scream. She thrashed and bucked in her bonds, gasping and screaming and pleading, as a light turned on in the switch attached to the buttplug wire.
"Jesus Christ, Mason," Anthony murmured, shaking his head. He felt his cock grow, pushing against the front of his pants. Fuck, not here, I ain't getting a boner in Mason's fucking office...
After 10 seconds or so, the light switched off, and the girl slumped in relief, sobbing quietly. Tears trickled down her cheeks.
"What else do you see, Tony?" Mason persisted.
"For chrissakes, Mason. Do we really have to do this?" But Anthony walked closer. He couldn't help it. He finally stopped when he was right next to the quivering mess of girlflesh, and then he saw it.
