“Nineteen now,” Sixty-Eight corrected quietly. “Two more got caught last week.”
I felt my analytical mind engage despite everything else. “So we’re honeypots… or, I guess, we make honeypots. We build convincing traps because we know how hackers think.”
“Exactly,” Seventy said. “And it works. The daddies train our technical skills during the day, and at night…” Her voice dropped. “At night they teach us to, you know, accept their authority completely. It’s all connected somehow. They say the sexual training breaks down our resistance, makes us more compliant and focused on pleasing them—which translates to better work.”
“That’s insane,” I said, but even as the words left my mouth, I remembered how my body had responded on the bench. The way the shame and arousal had tangled together. The way calling them Daddy had somehow made everything more intense.
“It works, though,” Fifty-Three said, her sharp eyes studying me. “You’ll see. The technical work becomes… easier. More intuitive. Like removing all that resistance in one area of your life removes it in others too.”
Sixty-Eight leaned forward, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “And there’s another reason they invest so much. LikeFifty-Three said, when our rehabilitation is complete—when we’ve paid our debt to society—they sell us.”
My stomach dropped. “You mean… literally? They literally sell us?”
“To wealthy tech executives,” Seventy confirmed. “I mean, they say they’rebuying out our contracts.But as far as we can tell there’s no real difference. The buyers are men who want fuck toys who are also experts in cybersecurity. Someone who can protect their systems during the day and spread her legs at night. It’s a very specific market, apparently. And we’re worth a lot.”
The casual way she said it made bile rise in my throat. But before I could respond, Fifty-Three spoke again.
“There’s something else you need to know about the program structure,” she said. “The girl who’s been here longest becomes what they call the Trusty. That’s me right now.”
I looked at her, trying to understand what that meant. “Trusty?”
“It means I’m responsible for keeping the other girls in line when the daddies aren’t around,” Fifty-Three explained. Her tone was matter-of-fact, almost businesslike. “Making sure everyone follows the rules, reporting any problems, maintaining discipline.”
The worddisciplinemade my stomach clench. I had a pretty good idea what that might entail in a place like this.
“And for the newest girl,” Sixty-Eight added, her eyes flicking to me with something that might have been sympathy, “that means special duty.”
My throat went dry. “Special duty?”
The three girls exchanged glances again. This time there was something in their expressions I couldn’t quite read—a mixture of knowing and what might have been embarrassment.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Fifty-Three said, taking another bite of her sandwich. “Tomorrow morning, I think. You’re really pretty, Seventy-One.”
“No, tell me now,” I demanded, my voice coming out harder than I’d intended because my stomach had started to crawl. “What the fuck is special duty?”
Seventy winced. “You really need to watch your language. The daddies don’t like it when we curse, and Fifty-Three has to report?—”
“I’m not worried about the fucking daddies right now,” I snapped, though even as I said it, I felt a flutter of fear in my belly. More swats. More time on that bench. “I want to know what you’re talking about.”
Fifty-Three set down her sandwich and looked at me directly. Her sharp features were unreadable, but something in her eyes made my pulse quicken.
“The newest girl serves the Trusty,” she said simply. “In whatever way the Trusty requires. It’s part of learning your place in the hierarchy here. Understanding that submission isn’t just about the daddies—it’s about accepting your position relative to everyone else.”
The words hung in the air between us. I felt my face flush hot as the implications sank in. Whatever way the Trusty requires. My tummy fluttered with something that wasn’t quite fear and wasn’t quite anticipation—something darker that I didn’t want to examine too closely.
“You mean…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
“You’ll find out tomorrow morning,” Fifty-Three repeated. She picked up her sandwich again, as if the conversation were over.
I looked down at the food on the table, my appetite suddenly gone despite the growling in my stomach. The plug shifted inside me as I moved slightly in the chair, a constant reminder of what had already been done to me today. And now there was more coming.Special duty.
CHAPTER 7
Ed
Bill and I entered the cafeteria together. The look on Pam’s face when she caught sight of us confirmed that the first part of her rehabilitation was proceeding properly.
“You can go with your daddies,” Emily—Fifty-Three, as far as Pam knew—told our bad girl, bringing a flush to Pam’s cheeks as she understood Emily’s power over her. “They’ll put you to bed tonight, since you’re new.”
