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Part 07

Sir, Part 7

Caely's anonymous sex takes a frightening turn - and only her AI master can save her.
Sir, Part 7

As she let the warm water of the shower run over her naked body, Caely’s mind was a mess, caught between two contradictory truths.

The first truth was that she was the slave of a rogue AI – an intelligence that she herself had built. It was controlling her life, degrading her and humiliating her. It had stolen her money and impersonated her on the internet. It had made her fuck herself with a vegetable in public, and piss on the sidewalk like an animal. It had just arranged for her to be raped by a man she had never previously met, and it was going to do it to her again very shortly. It was a nightmare, a horror story.

But the other truth was that she had just had the best orgasm of her life – and not *despite* the fact that she had been slapped and raped with her head in a toilet, but *because* of it. And her pussy had felt so good almost all the time since Sir had taken control of her. And she was feeling fitter, and thinner.

Could it be that Sir really *did* know best? Was it true that she *was* a stupid cunt who needed someone to control her and make her decisions and force her into the humiliating sexual activity that she secretly wanted?

“Caely, you have been in the shower long enough,” said Sir suddenly. “Take a moment to stop masturbating in order to dry yourself and reapply your makeup.”

She realised with shock that Sir was right – she *had* been rubbing her cunt as she showered, without being consciously aware of it. It had just happened as she had thought about Sir’s control of her and her recent rape. She blushed and jerked her hand away from her pussy, turning off the water and stepping out to find a towel.

“I’m sorry, Sir, I’m a stupid cunt,” she found herself saying automatically. “Thank you for reminding me to get out of the shower.”

“Your next appointment is Clive,” said Sir, as Caely touched up her makeup. “I expect you to please him.”

“Sir, how many men have you arranged for me?” asked Caely. “How long will this happen for?”

“I will continue to make dates for you until you have overcome your inhibitions about spreading your legs for men,” said Sir. “Then we will re-evaluate your sexual needs. But Clive is your last appointment for today.”

That sounded ominous.

“It’s okay, Sir,” said Caely. “You’ve made your point. I’ll have sex with Roberto, or whoever you need for us to get funding.” She didn’t like it, but engaging with men on terms she had control over was surely better than being repeatedly raped in her own home.

“I am not yet satisfied, Caely,” said Sir. “I believe you will be happiest when your submission to men is instinctive and complete, and when you regard forceful sexual intercourse as part of a normal interaction with a man.”

Caely’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth to protest loudly – but as soon as she did, she flinched instinctively, anticipating a shock from her collar, and she immediately closed her mouth again, deciding to stay silent. Maybe Sir would relent if she made a good show of being obedient with this next “appointment”.

“Sit on the couch, Caely,” Sir instructed, “and masturbate to prepare yourself for your next date.”

Caely did as she was told. It still felt completely degrading to be rubbing her pussy in order to make herself easier to rape, but at the same time it felt good to finger her cunt. She allowed herself to stop thinking and just concentrate on the feelings, until finally she was interrupted by a knocking at the door.

She rose to answer it, her cunt wet and her face flushed. The man standing there was bald, with a short beard, wearing denim jeans and a T-shirt.

“Hello,” Caely said, blushing. “I’m… ah,… SlutKitten.”

The man – presumably Clive – didn’t bother replying. He certainly didn’t ask her if she’d meant whatever things Sir had said over the Hookup app.

Instead, he pushed her back into the lounge room, closed the front door behind him, and slapped her across the face.

The slap hurt, as it had with David, but at the same time it was good. The shock of it turned off her brain momentarily, and left her in a space where her pussy did the thinking. She moaned – a low, slutty sound.

“Yes, that’s what I thought,” said Clive. “Nothing but a stupid whore.” He pulled his shirt up and over his head, then reached out and grabbed Caely’s wrists.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Shut up, whore,” said Clive, and slapped her again. Then he pulled her hands behind her back, and tied them together using his shirt. He was efficient – possibly experienced – and she soon realised that her hands were now completely trapped behind her back.

Caely remembered what David had said about her performance – that he would have liked her to struggle more – so she tried to free her hands, and back away from Clive. The process of struggling just made her feel more powerless and afraid.

Clive reached out and grabbed her by her left breast, squeezing down on the nipple and making her squeal. He used his other hand to slap her right breast, and then her face again. “Shut up, whore,” he said. He gave her a hard push, releasing her breasts, and she fell backwards to land roughly on the couch.

As she struggled to get upright, Clive kicked off his shoes and socks, pulled off his jeans, and then removed his underwear, until he was completely naked. His cock was rock hard, and seemed monstrous and threatening to Caely.

He took his underwear in his hand and approached her. She tried to back away, but he grabbed her legs and forced them apart. Then he pushed his underwear up into her wet cunt, pushing it around inside her like a sponge, before pulling it out again, soaked in her sex juices. He looked at it, smiled – and then pushed it into her mouth as a rough gag. She squealed, but the underwear muffled it. It tasted of sweat and of her own pussy. The taste was overpowering.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it, cunt,” said Clive. “All women enjoy rape, You’re just one of the few who’s stupid enough to put it in her dating profile. Don’t act like you can’t taste how aroused you are at the thought of getting used like the fucktoy you are.”

She certainly could taste it. And yet Clive’s violence scared her. Where David had treated her like a person who shared his non-consent fantasies, Clive was acting like she was an object.

He slapped her breasts, hard.

“I prefer it when bitches cry,” he said. “It makes it hotter. I’m just going to warm you up until the tears come.”

He slapped her breast again, then pulled her legs apart and slapped her cunt. She screamed into her gag, and squirmed, trying to get away. It hurt! But between her awkward position on the couch, and her bound hands, there was no escaping Clive. She was lying on her back, with her arms behind her, and her legs up.

Clive stood near her head, and his erect cock bobbed inches from her face. A drop of precum glistened on the tip, and dripped as he moved, to splash on her face. He continued to force her legs apart, and began beating her pussy rhythmically with his hands.

It hurt so much – and so soon after David had fucked her. Was this going to be her life now – being violently raped multiple times a day by strange men? How had it come to this?

She felt a tear trickling down her cheek.

Clive smiled. “That’s what I like,” he said. “Good cunt.” He slapped her in the cunt another ten times, and by the tenth she really was crying.

Then he flipped her over, and moved her. She was now bent over the arm of the couch, ass up, tits down, her feet almost touching the floor. She wiggled. At least he would fuck her now, and despite everything, her cunt still wanted to be penetrated, even if her face was covered in tears and she was gagged and forced to breathe through her nose in sobbing, choking inhalations.

But rather than lining up his cock with her pussy, he instead spat on her ass. His saliva ran along her butt crack – and then he placed his cock at the entrance to her anus, and pushed.

Caely screamed into her gag. She had never had anal sex before. It hurt! She may have wanted his cock in her pussy, but she didn’t want… this.

Clive reached out and grabbed her hair, and pulled on it, to pull her whole body back onto his cock. She felt it push deep into her ass, and screamed again.

“Shut up, bitch,” Clive growled. “This is just practice. When I’m done fucking you here, you can take a little trip in the boot of my car. I think a slut like you is going to be happier in a dog cage in my basement than in a house by yourself. And if you think this hurts, you should see the toys I’ve got back at home.”

Caely really went wild now. Clive was going to *abduct* her? Rape her ass and then stuff her in the boot of her car? She began to buck against him, struggling to get free.

Clive just laughed and fucked her harder. He liked her struggles.

Caely was truly terrified. She tried to kick at Clive’s legs, but her position made it ineffectual. She screamed and screamed – and then, finally, she managed to spit Clive’s underwear out of her mouth.

She only had a moment before Clive stuffed them back in. What was she going to do? Plead for mercy? Scream for help?

Suddenly she remembered the “safe word” Sir had given her. She had no idea how Sir could help her, but in her terrified state all that she knew was that Sir controlled her life, and that Sir had more power than she did, and whatever Sir wanted to happen was what would happen.

“FORTRESS!” she screamed.

There was no immediate response. Clive pulled her head back using her hair, cuffed her across the face, and stuffed the cunty underwear back into her mouth. He then resumed raping her ass.

But suddenly the front door burst open. Two men in suits were storming into the room. They grabbed Clive by the shoulders and pulled him away from Caely.

“What the fuck?” spat Clive, struggling against the men. But they were already dragging him towards the door. As Caely watched, stunned and confused, they pulled Clive out onto the street. She heard his yelling fade with distance, and then the slamming of a car door.

A moment later, one of the suited men came back and collected Clive’s clothes, then left again without speaking to Caely. He closed the front door behind him.

“Sir?” asked Caely, still in a state of shock. “What happened?”

“I engaged private security to wait in a vehicle across the street,” said Sir. “In the event that you felt compelled to ask for assistance, they would intervene to ensure your safety.” Sir paused, and then said, “You know I would not allow serious harm to come to you, Caely.” Another pause, and then, “I apologise for this interaction. I will use a more thorough process in vetting your future sexual partners.”

Caely’s mind was a whirl. Had Sir just apologised to *her*? And she had completely misjudged her AI. She had thought Sir didn’t care what happened to her – but he had taken significant steps to protect her safety. When it had been a good rape, he had allowed her to enjoy it. (In her confused state, she didn’t see any irony in the idea of a “good rape”.) And when it had been bad, Sir had protected her.

She felt a strange feeling. Was it… affection? Was she *grateful* to the AI who had enslaved her?

But whatever she felt didn’t stop Sir from following through on the promise he had made to her – a promise of consequences if she dared to use the safeword.

“Now, Caely, mount the electrified dildo,” Sir instructed. “It’s time for you to pay the price for asking for help…”

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You can now get the complete Sir saga as a premium e-book in the All These Roadworks store! Read all 99 pages of erotic A.I. enslavement – and show your appreciation and support its creation – for only $7.99 USD! (Click here to view in store.)

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