Turing Tested (Closed)

[wanna_be]

Sophie hadn't thought, simply reacted, right now her thoughts were freezing her where she was, horrified in the ringing silence. She couldn't believe she'd just slapped Farridan Calder across the face. Farridan Calder, the man who was writing her paycheques. Farridan Calder, the billionaire. Farridan Calder, the man who had somehow gained access to her lease agreement.

There was no time for her to fully process what was happening, because Farridans strong hands were already pressing her wrists together and pulling them down. By the time she realises what he's doing it's too late. She jerks back, succeeding only in lifting the heavy chair a half inch and digging the metal of the cuffs painfully into her wrists. She can't see, and she can only move her arms a little, mostly to relieve the pressure on her wrists. With her knees against the edge of the chair she is pulled forward, bending forward into a humiliating position, her back arched slightly, pushing her ass out and up.

She felt uncomfortably like she was on display, but with her hands cuffed there was little she could do.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

His voice hardly changes, still talking down to her, though now it's more like she's become one of his many possessions. Strangely, she feels something inside her respond to the tone, even while she tugs ineffectually at the cuffs.

"You need to let me go…"

Then he issues the threat. She stops talking, stops cursing, stops moving. Could he do that? Would she get home to find all her belongings on the street? And getting another place would be nearly impossible if she had a cancelled lease on her record.

"I guess it's pretty likely…"

There is still a hint of defiance in her tone. She's not going to simply bend to his will, even if he is threatening her with homelessness.

 

[Obuzeti]

"Adorable," Farridan says, droll. There's a cold, mechanical click. "Hold still."

Something cold presses against the collar of Sophie's dress - and then pulls down as he holds the fabric in place, the pressure sliding down the length of Sophie's body. It's the cool rush of air, afterwards, that probably tips her off to the fact he's cutting her dress off of her body. Once it's fully sliced in half, he neatly snips through the sleeves too, and then pulls the entire length of fabric off her. The process is as neat and surgical as a dissection.

"Now then, your measurements," Farridan murmurs, and lays something cold and flexible across Sophie's hips, evidently in the process of taking down her sizes.

Things have rapidly proceeded from awkward to criminal, and he doesn't sound excited or nervous in the least. He's still acting like this is a crossword puzzle, or answering a wrong number phone call: matter-of-fact and unworried.

 

[wanna_be]

Her skin is suddenly exposed to the cold, climate-controlled air of Farridan's floor. Her dress is pulled away, presumably now in pieces, and she shakes with fury. "You just shredded my dress. What the hell is wrong with you?"

She's basically naked, only her plain white panties and bra maintaining her modesty. Despite the fact that she is essentially being assaulted she feels inexplicably ashamed of her cheap, serviceable underwear. Usually she's not worried about impressing guys with her underwear, they're in more of a rush to get at what's underneath to worry too much about the second level of wrapping. Strangely Farridan seems to have no intentions to remove her underwear, at least not yet, and that example of cold control fans the strange fire in her stomach.

He seems to be speaking more to himself as he lays what feels like a tape measure against her skin, so she wriggles her hips, dislodging whatever it is. "Are you going to answer me?"

 

[Obuzeti]

"Many things, according to varying diagnoses," Farridan answers, cheerful. "Allow me to illuminate the course of future events for you."

There's another pair of clicks and the touch of cold metal as he carefully cuffs Sophie by her ankles, too, locking her into the strange arched position without hope of release. "You're asking too many stupid questions for me to really be interested in answering any of them, but hopefully the guided tour will prove educational enough to give you the gist of it."

There's a heartbeat of silence, and then the visor lights up with a new image - it's a view of herself, looking down at her precariously bent form, and as the view momentarily bobs and a hand comes up past the viewpoint, it becomes clear that it's from some kind of headmounted device. The display momentarily blurs, and resolves into Farridan as he inspects whatever it is.

"Obscura - an augmented display in a pair of focal lenses, or glasses, if you're a peasant," Farridan says, choosing to explain this instead. "Not released yet. Liability issues. It's too easy to damage. 'Ta!"

He dons the glasses again, scoops up her purse, and heads for the glass ramp leading to the elevator. He walks in, and the doors close as he punches in a number.

Behind him, Sophie is left bound and nearly naked to the chair, alone.

~*~

Farridan stays remarkably busy. There's no way for them to communicate with each other through the glasses, so Sophie is forced to merely watch as he goes through the meticulous steps of completely erasing her life. He draws up false travel plans that have her attending a Moresby business meeting in Peru, buys an overnight ticket, and purchases a reservation for a hotel room in that country the day after. With her current affairs covered, he moves to bullying her landlord, who he nudges the health investigators into investigating - and then hires a pair of discreet men to leave samples of mold around her apartment. Then he walks into her apartment herself, casually hacks her computer, and uses password recovery to log into her bank account and cancels her upcoming rent payment, along with setting off a 'identity theft' alert that requires confirming all her information again. Then he files a Missing Persons report for her in Peru, and sets a delay on the e-mail so it'll go out in two day's time, the night after she would arrive in Peru.

Then he sets to erasing her life by shredding every bit of documentation he can find.

Through all of this, Farridan doesn't narrate. He talks to the landlord, to the men he hires, with the same bubbly and even cheer he weaponized against Sophie, but even knowing she's watching, he doesn't gloat. He doesn't recognize her observation. He just erases the reality of Sophie with steady patience.

With that done, he goes out for lunch. There's a nice Italian place two streets over. He has a pasta salad.

While he's eating, he gets on his phone, some fancy keyboarded affair, and has her phone number cancelled and her e-mail accounts deleted using all the information he pulled from the documents in her apartment.

The whole affair takes him maybe two hours.

 

[wanna_be]

Wrists and ankles bound to the chair, Sophie is totally and utterly powerless. There is little she can do other than swear at her employer, which she does, loudly. She is silenced for a moment by a display of what she realises is herself, nearly naked, and cuffed solidly to the heavy chair. She struggles, seeing the figure on the display doing the same. Not that it matters. Both sets of cuffs are clearly heavy duty, not the cheap flimsy crap sold in most sex stores. It's not like the ankle cuffs mattered, she wouldn't have been going anywhere anyway.

The display looks away from her, starting to move towards the elevator.

"Wait…"

There is no sign that Farridan has even heard her, and he enters the elevator, leaving her alone in the huge, empty glass room. She isn't blind, she can see what Farridan sees, which is unnerving enough in itself. It takes a while before she fully realises what is going on. Buying her plane tickets seemed an odd move, as well as purchasing a hotel room.

It isn't until she witnesses him hacking her computer and cancelling her rent that full realisation dawns. He's doing exactly what he threatened to do. She watches in horror as her entire life disappears before her eyes.

Her arms and legs are aching, she's been held in this uncomfortable position for what feels like hours, her back arched unnaturally. Shifting awkwardly, she attempts to make herself more comfortable, but resolutely fails to find a comfortable position. The best she can do is find one that strains her limbs in a slight different way, at least it offers some relief for a time.

The pain is starting to get to her, starting to grind down the defiance she has been stubbornly holding onto through the hold experienced. She had been planning on launching a tirade of verbal abuse when he came back, but right now she was close to just begging for release from her confinement, such was the burning sensation in her shoulders and legs.

 

[Obuzeti]

When Farridan finally returns, he can see Sophie's limbs trembling with the strain the odd position puts on her body. Without anyone to see it, the smile slips from his face. There's nothing in its place; no locomotion of expression, no twitch or pull of facial muscle. Blank and smooth, like running water.

"Congratulations," he says, glancing down at her. The glasses give her a fine view of her own bound and blindfolded form. "You don't exist anymore, legally. You're a ghost in the system as of tomorrow when the tickets go through. I imagine your friends will be really disappointed, or something."

He reaches up and places one finger over the skin of her upthrust navel - but doesn't touch it, merely lets Sophie see the almost-contact, and trails down and around her skin, watching the goosebumps raise on her skin from the expectation and fear and the faintest hint of body heat from his digit. He moves it down her body, across the breadth of her thigh, and finally lays the slightest touch on the outside of her knee. Then he looks up to gauge her expression.

 

[wanna_be]

At least she can see when he is on the way back, offering some relief from the suspense that she had been under while he slowly erased her life and enjoyed lunch into the bargain. She watches with eagerness as he enters the elevator, pressing the button for his floor and finally arrives back. Strangely no one has entered in the entire time she has been confined here, or at least no one she has heard.

Finally she can see herself, and at the vision feels a flush of humiliation run across her skin, entirely unconcealed thanks to her near nakedness. He approaches slowly, and she speaks. "Let me go, please. Unlock the cuffs. I won't try and hit you again, I promise." Her voice is quivering, reflecting how her body was shaking with the effort of maintaining the position she was forced into.

She quivers more noticeably as his finger hovers over her navel, she can't feel him, but she knows he's there thanks to the visor locked over her eyes. She watches, breathless and speechless as his finger traces slowly down her body, down her thigh, to the outside of one knee where finally it touches her skin.

She gasps involuntarily at the sudden shock of heat she experiences. A flush through her whole system. She certainly hadn't expected that. Suddenly self-conscious she speaks again, this time trying to control the quaver in her voice. "Look, it's not like I can leave now. You can uncuff me. What am I gonna do?"

 

[Obuzeti]

Farridan doesn't answer either statement. He watches the blood flush behind Sophie's fair skin, and the red creep from her cheeks down past her collarbone; the goosebumps stand up on the inside of her thighs, and most importantly, how her hips shift out. His hand moves to the inside of her knee, as his other mirrors it - and he spreads her legs without much in the way of force, just touches guiding her to what he desires.

"Keep your legs spread," Farridan says. There's no more pleasant playfulness in his voice. Something's shifted. It's quiet now, soft and sibilant. His hand comes up and cups her mound through her panties, the warmth of his hand tangible through the thin fabric.

 

[wanna_be]

Unfortunately Sophie's entreaties fall on deaf ears. She's still cuffed to the chair, almost totally exposed. She's still wearing the visor as well, and thanks to the hi-tech glasses she could see exactly what Farridan saw. It was like watching point of view porn, except she was the star, and she could actually feel everything that was being done to the girl on the screen.

She could have fought back, closed her legs, refused to move them. She didn't, obediently moving her legs and feeling her resolve melt away at his commanding tone. She didn't say anything, it was clear now that he wasn't in any mood to do anything she asked.

She did make a sound though, a sudden gasp at the contact between her legs. Sophie was aware for the first time that she was wet, a rush of heat searing through her as Farridan cupped her mound. She felt like she was in a dream, there was a strange disconnect between what she could see and what she was feeling, even though she knew they were the same thing. How could she be feeling like this? He'd forced her into this position, shredded her life, and now had his firmly between her legs. And now she was turned on.

 

[Obuzeti]

Farridan's other hand comes up into the view of the visor. His hand settles against Sophie's cheek, too steady for the gross violation he's inflicting on her; his thumb presses against her lips and gently pulls her lower one down. His skin is soft and uncallused, and he looks at her flushed face and open mouth.

The other hand yet remains over the moistening fabric of her panties, rubbing two fingers in a slow, gradual circle over her labia. When they finally darken enough to be visible, he looks down - forcing Sophie to, also, watch - as he pulls her panties down enough to reveal her damp slit. His thumb slides into the dark recesses between clothing and her bare body, presses against her aching pussy, then slides up her full length before coming to rest against the peak of her sex, working against her clit in lazy spirals.

"This is what you're going to be," Farridan says, still quiet. His voice is barely audible over the background rumbling of air conditioners and the wet schlick of fingers teasing her folds. "A cunt for me to use, because your mouth hasn't had anything useful come out of it yet. Not even anything interesting. And if you talk before I'm done with you tonight, understand that what mild inconveniences you have experienced to this point will cease to be of concern to you swiftly."

 

[wanna_be]

Sophie doesn't move, too scared, and too aroused, by the thought of what Farridan might do next. Despite the violation, part of her was enjoying what was happening, a deep, repressed part of her psyche that was being roused by his actions, gently uncoiling from where it had been sleeping.

Sophie doesn't speak, and is glad that she has held her tongue a Farridan's too quiet voice murmurs over everything else. Hard to hear, but impossible to ignore. He doesn't make threats. Farridan is clearly not the kind of person who makes threats. No, he promises, and those promises only seem to make her slicker, only seem to intensify the heat between her legs.

Slowly, carefully, worrying that maybe there would be an unfavourable reaction, she nods her head. It was almost imperceptible. Only someone with as close an attention to detail as Farridan would have seen it. A clear agreement to his demands.

 

[Obuzeti]

"Good," Farridan says, still so quiet, and then draws back enough to rip Sophie's undergarments from her in inelegant jerks, casting them aside. Her bound, nude form stirs atop the chair, legs spread wide by his command, and he stares at her, breath silent, unmoving. Taking her in. Then he jerks down the fly of his pants and casts them aside, pulling out his cock. It comes into view as he steps up between her legs; not yet fully hard, but thick, and Farridan takes himself in one hand and rubs the fat head up against her damp folds, letting her natural lubricant bring him to full length.

His other hand runs up Sophie's side, over the arch of her ribs and over her firm breast, over her neck, and sliding into the hair he'd only earlier slid a comb into with odd gentleness. Now his fingers fist in her hair at the base of her skull. He doesn't pull. He just bends her head back the barest inch, and leans in to brush his nose against the trembling arch of her throat.

Farridan doesn't need words to own her at this point. With his bare skin on hers, it's shouted every time he takes hold, or makes her bend to his will. The glistening, slick warmth he slathers on his own shaft is proof enough.

 

[wanna_be]

As Farridan rips the last of her modesty away from her Sophie instinctively tries to close her legs. She catches herself, but not before they have jerked inwards a little before returning to their instructed position. She quivers, worrying at the punishment that may come in response to her disobedience, no matter how unintentional.

She feels her breath catch as he strips, removing his pants and revealing his cock. He's not quite fully hard yet, but well on the way, and the sight of it makes her breath catch in her throat. Hoping that this was just some sort of sick test seemed pointless now, her fears confirmed by the sight of his rapidly hardening cock.

Her body was betraying her, a fire burning between her legs and a slickness between her thighs that meant it was impossible for Farridan to miss her arousal. Her breath catches again at the feel of his skin on her throat, the strangely gentle touch in her hair lending an oddly protective sense to the way Farridan is treating her. Perverse, but somehow comforting and she finds her body responding automatically, her hips tilting slightly as her mind tries to argue with her instincts.

 

[Obuzeti]

Fluid collects on the puffy lips of Sophie's sex; as the head of Farridan's cock rubs between them, it transfers over to his thickened shaft, and he rubs it down the length until his cock shines with her natural lubricant. When she bobs away, and then back up and spreads her legs, he acknowledges both with wordless motion - first pulling up on her hair, just slightly, then releasing the tension and smoothing his lips against the pale column of Sophie's throat.

But now, the teasing is over.

A soft exhalation leaves the man's mouth as he slides himself into his captive's body; her lower lips part around the fat helmet of his cock and grip tightly as he pushes himself halfway in, moving slow enough to let her adjust. The fluttering muscles within her body are a seductive chorus, but instead of focusing on that, Farridan leans down to affix his mouth around one of Sophie's stiffening nipples, plundering her body for all the pleasures it can offer. He's not really fucking her, not yet, just making minute little thrusts while her body uncoils and untightens from around his shaft.

One of his hands is still buried in her hair, a guide and a leash in her luscious locks, and the other has migrated to a pale buttock, sinking deft fingers into the taut flesh and drawing her hips into motion against him.

 

[wanna_be]

Technically Farridan is raping her, but the way he is doing it is so soft, so slow and so sensual that it would almost be more appropriate to call it making love. Sophie can't help but be aroused, can't help but enjoy the strange sensations, Farridan is awaking in her willing body, despite her unwilling mind. It's as if her flesh knows something she doesn't.

Then he's in her. She gasps, whimpers, unable or unwilling to talk. Farridan had given clear instructions, and much as she wants to fight back, to disobey, she's too afraid right now of what he might do. His demonstration of power had been humbling, in every sense of the word. Right now, in this moment, his control over her is absolute, and she doesn't dare to question it.

She's focusing on the screen, finding the view of herself in the same position strangely erotic, the excitement in her body strangely arousing. Her muscles ache from the unnatural position she has been in for sometime, but she can't move, can't relax, and his cock invading her body only heightens the ache and the frustration.

His hand, pulling her against him, makes mockery of what is really going on. It makes it seem as if she is an entirely willing participant, moving her hips to draw him deeper into her. She doesn't resist, if anything, she moves with his guidance, rolling her hips as well as moving them in towards him.

She whimpers again, the desire to speak almost too much, only her sense of preservation reducing the words to an unintelligible sound at the last moment. There's too much going on for her, his hand in her hair, the other gripping her ass, lips on her nipples and the immediate, urgent presence of him inside her. There's nothing she can ignore, but nothing she can focus on.

She is totally at the mercy of Farridan Calder.

If she was capable of thinking straight, it would have been a chilling thought.

 

[Obuzeti]

There's a long, interminable period of time in which Farridan slowly rides the sensation of a new cock-sheathe; he slides forward a few inches into Sophie's folds, lets himself luxuriate in her gripping muscles, and draws back out, like he's nibbling at the first course of a full meal; whetting his appetite, instead of slaking it. His lips draw and pluck at her stiffening nipple before the domineering man raises from that pursuit, watching the color bloom across Sophie's face.

His hand comes up and settles across her cheek, gentle as if he were petting an animal, and his soft thumb, uncallused by hard work, settles across her lips and traces their softness.

Meanwhile, Farridan's hips undulate, shoving a few inches of fat cock between her legs at a time, letting her comparatively petite body grow used to his size and girth. He's very nearly fucking himself with her body, like a toy, pulling her in with his other hand on her ass to sink that meaty shaft deeper. But then when her hips roll up, seeking to take him deeper, something deeper than a groan resonates in Farridan's chest, and he sinks all the way to the hilt in Sophie's form, burying himself in her body until their hips lock against each other.

 

[wanna_be]

The assault of sensations continues, his teeth nibbling and his lips plucking at her rapidly stiffening nipples. She'd shift to push them further into his mouth if she could, and she is momentarily ashamed of the subconscious desire, a flush spreading from her face and down her throat. She gasps against his thumb, her lips parting as the digit rests against them. She's inviting him in, as she already has.

Sophie hasn't had sex in months. She's been on dates, but none of them have seemed to click, and certainly none of them have prepared her for the size of Farridan's cock. She whimpers as he shoves himself deeper into her, showing only the barest concern for how well her slim form might be able to take his fleshy shaft. Somehow it turned her on even more, and she finds a fire rushing from between her legs and through her body.

Then he's filling her completely. She whines, moans, shifts as much as she can. It's no use of course, they're locked together, his hand gripping her ass and preventing her from pulling away. She tries anyway, futilely, only managing to grind her pussy against the base of his cock, forcing yet more bolts of pleasure through from her pussy.

 

[Obuzeti]

With her accustomed to his size - and her slick fluids covering his cock, lubricating him enough to move - Farridan begins to pump his hips now in earnest, his strong thighs colliding with hers in solid impact. It would jar her painfully if he didn't have one hand looped around behind her, clamped onto her ass, but as it stands she's trapped between his strong grip and his thrusts, each one clapping against smooth skin. The chair is cold against her legs and arms; Farridan (and thus Sophie) watch goosebumps ripple up her skin and her nipples harden as his damp saliva on them makes the cool air sting.

When her lips part, the domineering man draws down Sophie's lower lip with his thumb and slides it into her mouth, not far enough to press against her teeth - just occupying her lips and mouth, forcing her breath to whistle in harsh pants through her nose. The rest of his finger settle around the curve of her neck, possessive and heavy.

In contradiction to his usual verbose nature, Farridan remains silent, except for the harshening draw of his breath. The faint clatter of his belt and dropped pants are the only real noise beside their breathing - even the chair doesn't squeak, as he fucks her with growing passion. Everything he says is through his body now, and without eyes to see all Sophie has to rely on is the sense of her body, held and exploited by him.

 

[wanna_be]

Sophie feels totally controlled. Farridan is moving fast now, hard, emptying and filling her over and over again. Sophie is no virgin, but she's never felt so totally in the power of a man. It's not just the ability to control her life that he has demonstrated, it's the way he has her completely pinned, despite his assault. She can't move her arms, her legs… Any attempt is reward only with a sudden stop and the clink of metal from the cuffs.

She finds herself struggling to breathe, but not due to the thumb he is pressing into her mouth. Every thrust seems to force the air from her lungs and she desperately tries to gasp for another before he can fill her again. Her lips, at his prompting, open further, her tongue flicking out to taste the tip of his thumb. It's not conscious, more instinctive, but right now her body seems to be taking over the decisions.

Every time he thrusts forward her body tenses, her muscles and tendons standing taut, as though ready to break. She feels that way too, each surge of pleasure drives her closer to the edge, and every thrust only seems to drive another rush through her. She wants to speak, wants to say something, stop, don't stop, let me go, don't stop, why are you doing this? Don't stop…

 

[Obuzeti]

Farridan pushes his thumb against Sophie's tongue, letting her dampen it with her saliva, then draws it out and reaches down her body. He sneaks it down to the peak of her sex, where his thrusts bounce his hips off hers, filling her with cock in harsh rhythm. It brushes up against her clit and then he begins to rub in tight circles in rhythm with his pounding thrusts.

"Cum for me," he says into Sophie's ear, and his voice is like nothing human, harsh and grating and low, an animal intensity the man himself had never displayed to her eyes. Even now she can't see what contortions that brutal command must kink through his body by its passage - all she can see is his gaze, possessively leveled on her face, her spread, panting lips, even as he fucks her below. The sex is somehow secondary. It's there, but like an input jack it's just an exchange to reach the thing he really wants.

Farridan wants to reach in through Sophie's body and own her soul, and lacking proper tools to do it with, her body is the only medium he has to write upon it. And so now he presses himself deep into her flesh to stencil himself into her mind, his cock buried between her legs, his fingers rubbing her clit, his voice the only sound inside her mind.

"Cum."

 

[wanna_be]

Sophie barely even feels like a person any more, she's little more than a toy at that moment. Her brain seems to have taken temporary leave of her body, observing as though a simple spectator, rather than a participant of the act. This is likely helped by the effect of Farridan's visor and glasses. Her vision isn't even her own any more.

Her body, displayed on the screen in front of her, bucks as his thumb presses against her clit, surges of pleasure flowing through her abused system. Her legs tighten, her muscles, already exhausted, straining against her bonds and against the flushes of sensation running across her body. If he had loosed her now she wasn't sure if she would have tried to push him off her wrapped her legs around him to pull him deeper.

She's almost totally submerged now, her mind feeling more like a witness, a passenger, than a participant. Her body is reacting of it's own accord, flexing, gasping moaning, all with her looking on like she is some sort of voyeur. Yet her mind too is following her body's suit. Everything is slowing down, her thoughts jumping at every press of his thumb, every thrust of his cock. Just for a second, but enough for her to feel alive in a way she hasn't in years.

Then he speaks, and her body first bends to his will, then her mind, filled only with the single, dominating word.

She cums, a wordless moan finally escaping her lips, her body stiffens, jerks as much as it is able considering it's bonds, before finally the strength goes out of her. She lies, exhausted, on the chair, still constrained. Even if she weren't she wouldn't have moved, such is the exhaustion she now feels. She moves her head a little, her visored face attempting, in a way, to meet Farridan's eyes, instead almost meeting her own. Wordlessly, she begs for mercy.

 

[Obuzeti]

Farridan fucks Sophie right up through her orgasm, her cunt spasming along his length, and his thrusts stay steady until she slumps against her bindings. The links clink against the metal back of the chair she remains tied to.

Then he draws out. He's still hard, but not the twitchy jumping of imminent orgasm, and he pumps his hard shaft in his hand once before he plants a foot on the chair and raises his hips up to rub the head of his cock against Sophie's lips and cheek in a long line, leaving the glimmering traces of his precome and her own arousal smeared across her face. The he reaches behind her and undoes the cuffs binding her.

Then Farridan stares at Sophie - at the visor on her face. There is a forebodingly long silence, as he just looks at her. He doesn't move. He doesn't talk. He just observes her, still as an owl.

He pulls the visor off both of them, letting them dangle from one hand. His office is dim, now, the various holographic representations shut down for the night. The evening sun is dim against the windows, painting the office in sullen reds and oranges.

"The stairway up leads to my suite," he says, toneless. His face is blank and unreadable. It is not an expression of deep thinking but the absence of it. Farridan has submerged into his passions and now stares out of the thrall of them. "The door on the left is your room. The one on the right is mine. If you go in there, I will kill you."

A long moment. He breathes soft, easy. The sex hadn't really made him exert himself, and threatening her with murder doesn't increase his heartrate either. Neither of them excited him in the least.

"Let me know when you're hungry. I'll order something."

Marching orders dispensed, Farridan turns to return to his desk.

 

[wanna_be]

Farridan's cock against her face feels like he is marking his territory. It only takes a heartbeat before realises that is what he's doing. He is marking his property, making it clear that she is now his. Her makeup is ruined, streaked and smeared by his assault, as well her own sweat and tears. All of it is his own messy masterpiece.

She can see it, see the long, glistening trail across her face. It lasts for only a second before the visor is finally ripped away from her. She gasps, both at the shock of the sudden movement, and at the sudden change in her environment. The world seems smaller somehow. It's dimmer, Farridan's holograms are no longer active, and with his gaze so focused on her own body she had been totally unaware of her surroundings.

She is aware for the first time that the cuffs have been released. She'd remained in the uncomfortable, contorted position for longer than had been necessary, and was suddenly shamefully aware of the fact. Aware that she is completely naked before Farridan.

Slowly, Sophie stands up, drawing her hands in front of her in a pathetic, too late attempt to preserve her modesty. She stares at Farridan's face, trying to find something in them. Satisfaction, rage, guilt. There's nothing, and his eyes look different, clouded somehow.

Her mouth drops as he issues an order and turns away. He's speaking to her as though she is just a simple employee. As if he hadn't just blindfolded her, cuffed her to a chair and fucked her. As if he hadn't just erased her entire life from existence.

She's too exhausted to argue. Wordlessly she collects the ripped fragments of her clothes and carries them upstairs. Like he said, there are two doors, and Sophie is momentarily seized by an almost irresistible urge to disobey and enter his room. She even gets so far as to put her fingers on the door handle before reason kicks in. Two silent steps take her across the hallway to the room described as hers.

The walls here are glass, tinted like the rest of the building, with that strange quality that makes it clear that she can see out, but no one else can see in. So much for her hopes of writing SOS on the window and praying for salvation. Not that she had anything to write with.

Depositing the scraps of fabric on the floor, she goes through them, hoping against reason that there might be some way of clothing herself. Her hope is unfounded. Farridan had been so efficient in shredding her clothes that they were barely recognisable now. Dropping the material back into a pile, she rises, crossing the room to the window.

She raises a hand to wipe at her face, before looking away from the taunting freedom of the skyline. The room is exquisitely well furnished in a minimalist fashion. The walls are all tinted glass, opaque in the sections where it would be the hallway, and across a second wall. Obviously this room is in the corner of the building, as the other two walls are all floor to ceiling windows. Windows she can't look through right now.

There's a second doorway in one of the walls, and as she walks through the dark portal a light automatically flicks on. It's a bathroom, an actual bathroom. It's almost as big as her flat, a flat pane of glass separates the room, with what looks like several shower heads sunk into the walls and ceiling. Next to that is a huge bath tub with chromed fittings that probably cost more than a months rent.

She finally sees herself in the mirror, and is startled at the image that greets her. She'd seen it through Farridan's visor, but that heavy headset had obscured much of her visage. It's obvious that she was crying earlier, her mascara has run and set in a thick black line where it has been caught where the visor met her cheeks. The thin mark that Farridan had left upon her is now near invisible, but she can feel where it has dried on her skin.

Suddenly irrationally in a panic, she turns and marches herself into a shower and turns it on. The first hit is cold, and she jumps at the shock. She needed the shock, and the power of the water. As she turns the heat up to scalding she can't tell if the water is trickling down her face is tears…

---

She doesn't know how long she is in the shower for, but when she eventually exits the mirror is completely steamed up. She dries herself, placing the heavy towel back onto a heated rack that could only have been provided for just that purpose.

The shower hasn't just cleaned her body, it's helped clear her thoughts, at least a little. It's clear to her that there isn't any immediate escape. Farridan has her phone, and she has no doubt that the elevator is under his control too. Struck by a sudden thought, she pads across the room to the door. It clicks quietly open.

She lets it click gently shut once more. At least the door is open, though she wonders if he has the capacity to lock it remotely as well. She wouldn't put it past him. Probably everything in here is connected to his controller. She glances around, wondering if he has her on camera.

A high bed dominates the room, white sheets. They look expensive. She pauses, frowning. Something is missing, something important. As her eyes pass over the small pile of clothes she realises, there's no dresser, no closet. Is she expected to remain naked at all times?

Her searching gaze crosses the room once again, until it discovers something that doesn’t quite fit. A line where there shouldn't be a line, a curve in a world of edges and angles. She crosses to the opaque wall, running her fingers over the surface. There is a brief vibration, like the sensation of a phone's keyboard responding. The glass recesses, slides to the side to reveal a long, full closet.

She runs her hands through the clothes, pulling them out to investigate each one. Most of them barely qualify as outfits, there isn't enough fabric there. A French Maid outfit, a school girl skirt and tiny white blouse, stockings, suspenders. She finally reaches the end to discover a black skirt and a blouse. Finally, something normal.

She pulls it out, and realises her mistake. The blouse is actually fairly normal, a little tight perhaps, but nothing she hasn't worn before. The skirt contains barely enough fabric to cover her ass, and certainly not enough fabric to provide her with anything but the barest modicum of privacy. To bend over even a little would immediately display her underwear to any room she happened to be-

She searches hurriedly through the rest of the closet. No underwear. Sophie isn't surprised. The most business like thing provided is completely inappropriate, and, she checks the label, exactly her size. She goes back through the closet. Everything is in her size. She'd been hired less than a week ago. Had this been planned from that moment?

She looks at the skyline. There's no clock in here so she can only tell the time by the sun, which has long since sunk below the horizon. She's not hungry, and she doesn't want to talk to Farridan. The bed looks inviting.

She's still naked though, and she doesn't want Farridan walking in on her naked, despite the ridiculousness of that thought. Quickly she picks something out that at least give her the illusion of clothing, even if the transparent babydoll does absolutely nothing to actually cover her.

Finally she slips between the sheets. It doesn't take her long to pass out.

 

[Obuzeti]

It's after a long night of coding that Farridan returns, probably four or five hours later. It's dark outside, and the tinted glass of the windows in Sophie's room allow in only the faintest light. The door slides open noiselessly to admit him, and he stands over her bed for a long moment to stare down at her, face empty.

He doesn't know why he does this. There's no advantage to this. No calcuable reason for this to alter his attitude and disposition. There's a variable wrong in the equation of him, an unbalanced equation he can't find. It tilts past the fulcrum and this is how he rebalances; he breaks a woman to his tastes and makes use of her.

That's all he knows about it, and he's not interested in admitting himself to find out why the compulsion is so strong.

Rather than tangle with his thoughts anymore, he moves forward and plants a knee on the mattress, then one hand on the back of Sophie's head - not pressing down, just in position for when she wakes and begins to thrash. His other hand trails down her lithe back over the babydoll, and he takes her in, now, nearly nude as she is. Her skin is pale and perfect, free of blemishes, and the swell of her ass is firm and thick, a pleasing handful. He contemplates the idea of taking one of the little silver plugs he has stored away and sliding it up into her tight pucker, but decides to leave that for later.

Instead, after firmly groping one cheek, Farridan's hand slides to her thighs and parts them, so that he can get a knee in between them, and then he begins to rub over her labia, gentle at first to get her warmed up. He doesn't know what he wants yet, precisely, but her begging for it is always going to be at least part, if not with mouth yet then at least body.

 

[wanna_be]

Sophie, exhausted, is deeply asleep. At some point during the night she has moved from under the sheets, the babydoll riding up so that it rests in the dip of the small of her back. She murmurs faintly in her sleep, unintelligibly. Asleep as she is, she doesn't resist as Farridan's hand slips between her legs, if anything, she shifts her legs apart at his gentle prompting, easing his access to her pussy. For someone that was effectively raped only a few hours ago, she is sleeping remarkably peacefully.

She murmurs again, smiling faintly as she moves her head, almost nuzzling it against the gentle presence of his palm. Sophie's eyes flicker, but she doesn't yet wake, still breathing with the steady, gentle rhythm of a sleeper. Her body moves, her hips pressing down and pushing her pelvis down towards his hand.

Sophie is pressing her pussy against his fingers, her lips, even in her sleep, are growing damp already. Much more stimulation and he may well find her grinding against him before she even wake.