Swinging From the Family TreeChapter 2
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Claude stroked the red line on the girl's wrist. He was mildly relieved to see it fading. He didn't want scars, and though he had paid for none to appear, like most consumers, he doubted promises made by any company.
Renee lay in his bed, pretending to be asleep. He'd had the bots clean out her chamber, after he'd released her unconscious form from the dark room. She'd spent the last three days in his bed, recuperating between fucks.
He pulled the small syn to his body, relishing the warmth. Having her so close for the past three days had made him realize how much he preferred it; she wouldn't be going back to a separate room. In fact, he was beginning to think that very freedom had been the source of her obstinacy.
His cock twitched as it brushed against the girl's back. He knew she noticed- her body tensed beneath his hands.
Claude grinned wickedly and shoved her over the edge. He swung his feet off the bed and stared down at her, past his growing cock. He smiled easily as she rolled herself upright. Her eyes, full of dark hatred, met his for a split second before she forced her gaze to the floor.
The brief submission only made him harder.
Renee knelt before him, knowing from past experience any attempts at standing would only result in him knocking her down again.
He gripped his penis in one hand, and played it to full size, gazing at her naked flesh.
"Come here," he said to his syn.
She crawled slowly, until her head was between his knees.
"You know what to do, girl."
She didn't move.
"Renee," he said, annoyance threading the word. "Either suck me off now, or I'll make you do it, then blind you, and beat the ever-loving shit from you. Do you want me to throw you in the dark room again?"
"N-no, sir," she said hurriedly.
She took a shaky breath and leaned forward.
Still hesitant, he mused, even after three months. Even after sucking his cock every day, and more.
The girl's tongue slid along the the length of his member, just as he'd trained her, reaching the base and then returning to the tip. He felt the anger sink away as she wrapped her mouth around his erection, sucking gently.
Claude groaned and tilted his head back, let her do the work. Even with a constant supply of blow jobs, he hadn't tired of them.
And Renee was becoming very good. It'd taken a few weeks of instruction- namely, shocking her when she accidentally made a mistake- like letting teeth slip through, or not moving her tongue; tiny rebellions to ruin his experience. But once she'd learned he expected perfection, Renee's technique had shaped up nicely.
But not this good.
Her small fingers tickled his balls as she took his full length, in and out.
He tried to shake the thought away- after all, even if she usually didn't make this much effort, it wasn't necessarily suspicious that she was doing so, now. He should simply... enjoy it.
The girl stole a moan from her master, swallowing the thick cock convulsively.
But the feeling wouldn't leave him be. Claude glanced into her mind- it took longer than usual, due to his... distraction, but he managed.
Another song.
Renee pulled back, focusing on the head, twisting her tongue around it. Her tiny hand held the shaft, squeezing rhythmically.
Even as he got the best blow job of his life- he couldn't let his reservations go.
He shivered and glanced down at his girl's dark hair-
-and saw the knife.
Claude expelled a choke mixed with a shout. He kicked her back, kicked the knife back. It left a long, shallow cut along his inner thigh as the girl was flung into the wall.
"Fucking shit!" He grabbed a pillow, tore the pillowcase off, and pressed it against the wound. "Christ jesus fucking- don't you move!" he bellowed at Renee's retreating form.
"Fucking cunt." He hissed as he put pressure on it, the pain and anger overlaying his sight in red. He barely pulled the main display up, static and emotion twisting the clear options into blurs. Or maybe it was another error. "Medkit," he snarled at the screen, but of course it didn't work. The bitch had broken its intuition, hadn't she?
He jerkily navigated the system manually, and ordered a bot to bring one to Room 301.
"Fuck," he breathed. He could feel the blood soaking through the cotton. Renee was trembling against the wall, eyes wide and dilated. She still held the knife in one hand.
"Drop it," he said through his teeth. "You stupid little bitch, I swear to god-" he made to stand- but sank back to the bed at the pain. "Fucking hell," he wheezed. He shocked her, taking vicious pleasure at the screams.
The bot came- after losing itself in a hallway and he'd had reset it. Apparently, the house didn't think the third floor existed any more.
He cursed as the disinfectant hit the gash, and more as the gel brought the edges together and hardened.
Renee had stopped her noise by the time he was finished. She panted heavily and clutched her head, twisting on the floor.
He turned off the shock and she curled into a tight ball.
Claude stood, wincing. He swallowed a few pain-killers dry, and hobbled to his cowering syn.
He wanted to kick the bitch in the stomach, but he doubted he'd keep his balance.
"Talk," he said. "Tell me what the fuck you were thinking, Renee?"
She whimpered and remained where she was.
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