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He spread his hands and smiled at us. “And I
gave her those things. In her mind, she saw her mother last week,
regardless of the passage of time. She believes that her parents
are kind and loving, and that they’re proud of her. She has no
memory of being raped by her father, or her brothers, or any number
of men they sold her to. She has no knowledge of having given birth
to a lifeless child.” He stood suddenly. His voice now had an edge.
A hint of anger at what had been done to her. He gestured toward
the door she’d disappeared through. “Look at her now, happy and
healthy. She practically glows with it.”

“That could have been me,” Ayo said softly.
“He could have let me be happy too. But instead, he made me hate
myself every time he touched me.”

I closed my eyes, fighting back my anger at
Donato, at Gideon, at an entire system that treated people like
something less than cattle. I felt Gideon was dodging the issue,
and yet he was being forthright. It was hard to put my finger on
the source of my anger.

“She’s still little more than a
slave.”

“She’s not a slave. She’s my wife. And who are
you to judge me, sitting there next to your Dollhouse
plaything?”

“He’s not mine. He’s not a slave. Not anymore.
He’s—”

“You make the mistake of thinking of him as
human.”

“Because he is.”

“Are you so sure?”

“Of course.”

He turned to Ayo and said a single word.
“
Vulnye
!” A strange command. Two brutal syllables in a
language I didn’t know.

Ayo’s eyes lost focus. He wilted a bit, his
muscles going lax. He sat limp, staring straight ahead, his hands
resting in his lap. “Ayo?” I asked, but he didn’t answer. Didn’t
move. Didn’t even blink. “Ayo!”

“He won’t respond. Not until I free
him.”

“Free him?” I turned on Gideon, fighting once
again to keep my rage at bay. “What have you done to
him?”

“Nothing bad, I assure you. I simply triggered
his inert state.”

“Well, un-trigger it!”

“For what purpose? The boy has nothing to
contribute to our conversation. He wasn’t programmed for
it.”

“He’s more than his program.”

Gideon shrugged, unmoved by my anger. Once
again, I had the feeling he was enjoying having somebody to debate
with. “Maybe. Maybe not. The Guild operates on people, but nobody
knows what the Dollhouse starts with. Do they breed their specimens
themselves and somehow cause them to age rapidly, or do they kidnap
suitable candidates? Nobody knows. But they earned their infamy by
using far more than neural implants.”

“Genetic manipulation and response
conditioning.”

“Exactly. Sheer magic, some say. Maybe it is.
Either way, they’ve probably invested a small fortune in this boy.
Hours and hours of torture in the name of creating the perfect toy.
Imagine what it must have taken to link pleasure and pain so
concretely in his mind. Imagine what he must have
endured.”

My gorge began to rise at the thought, and I
swallowed hard. “I’d rather not.”

He chuckled. “I don’t blame you. But don’t
forget, whatever they did to him to make him what he is, they also
did him the favor of letting him forget.”

“Just as you did with Rhianne. Maybe she and
Ayo aren’t so different after all.”

“They’re nothing alike.”

“Really? And I suppose there’s nothing sexual
about her program?”

If I’d thought to make him uncomfortable, I
failed. He smiled wickedly. “Oh, there is. I won’t deny it. Her
implant has been programmed to trigger certain physical responses.”
He gestured toward Ayo. “Much as this boy’s probably
does.”

I glanced toward Ayo. He still sat motionless,
his eyes vacantly staring straight ahead. I didn’t want Gideon to
see how much Ayo’s trance upset me, so I turned back to him,
continuing our conversation.

“You can make her love you?”

“Love? No. That’s a far more complicated
issue. But desire? Yes. A few simple commands and I can have her so
aroused, she can barely think straight. I can make her beg. I can
make her come, without ever even touching her.”

“Why bother if she said she didn’t need to
enjoy it?”

“Because unlike whoever owned this boy, I
don’t get off on making people miserable. I wanted our time
together to be as good for her as it is for me.”

“And the programming gives her
that?”

“Let me show you.” He turned toward the door.
“Rhianne? Come in here, please.”

Show me? Did he intend to demonstrate the
physical response he was so proud of? “It’s not
necessary.”

“On the contrary,” he said, grinning. “It will
be my pleasure.”

The wicked glint in his eye told me that he
meant this literally. It was much the same look Donato had often
given me, when his lust was upon him. I shifted uncomfortably in my
seat. Next to me, Ayo still hadn’t moved. I nudged his thigh,
hoping for a response, but received none.

“Yes?” Rhianne asked from the doorway. “Did
you want me?”

“Indeed, I do.”

He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her
toward him. “You see,” he said to me, “her willingness? That’s not
all programming. Partly, that’s her wanting to please me. Right,
love?”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He pushed her forward, bending
her over face down onto the table, ramming his hips against her
ass, using his hand on the back of her neck to hold her in place. I
felt my bile rise, wishing I’d never asked so many questions. I
should have known something like this would happen. For all his
manners, Gideon was as bad as any overblown nobleman on the hill,
desperate to show off his toys, willing to stoop to any depth of
depravity simply because he could. I’d pushed him and now he’d make
Rhianne pay for my insolence.

“Please stop,” I begged. “I don’t need to see
anything.”

“Oh, I disagree.” He rubbed his thumb over
Rhianne’s cheek, just in front of her ear, and she practically
melted, her eyes losing focus, much as Ayo’s did when his pain
response was triggered. “Look at my guests, Rhianne.”

She obeyed, turning her head toward me. Her
pupils were dilated, her lips parted, her eyes wide. Her breath
came in small gasps. “Notice her reaction,” Gideon said. “This
isn’t an act. The implant triggers her arousal. Her heart rate and
blood pressure rise. Her skin becomes flush.” He pulled the bodice
of her shirt down to reveal soft, full breasts. He cupped one in
his hand. “Her nipples become erect. Blood flow to her groin
increases. Her labia become swollen and tender.” He hiked up her
skirts, exposing her from the waist down. She was utterly bare
under her dress. “Her pussy grows wet with anticipation.” He slid
his fingers inside, causing her to whimper and writhe. “You should
feel it for yourself.”

“No,” I choked. “Let her go, please. I’ve seen
enough.”

He grinned at me, his eyes glinting, reminding
me again of Donato. “I can’t possibly stop now. What kind of
husband would I be to deny her when she wants it so badly. And you
do want it, don’t you darling? You want me to fuck you?”

She squirmed beneath him, thrusting her hips
toward him. “Yes! Please, sir.”

“As you wish.”

He continued to hold her down, using one hand
to push his pants out of the way. His cock stood erect and ready,
and he slammed it home. She cried out at the pleasure of it. He
started to thrust, and she panted and moaned each time he did. I
was half disgusted, half aroused. I glanced at Ayo. He was watching
the show, his face utterly devoid of expression. A glance toward
his lap showed no sign of arousal, but as I watched, he reached
over and laid his hand atop my half-erect cock.

Gideon continued to thrust. Rhianne moaned and
whimpered underneath him. “I can fuck her for hours,” he said,
panting. “Her arousal will never wane. Her pleasure will never
decrease.” He pulled out of her. “Would you like a go at her? Would
you like to feel for yourself how wet and ready she is?”

I could barely contain my repulsion.
“No.”

“I could make her suck you.” He looked down
again at Rhianne. Now that he wasn’t fucking her, she moaned in
frustration, squirming beneath him, thrusting her hips toward
him.

“Don’t stop now, sir,” she groaned.
“Please.”

“Would you like to suck our guest while I fuck
you?”

“Yes.”

“Or should I have him fuck you
instead?”

“Yes.”

“Which guest?”

“Both of them.”

“One in front, and one behind?”

“Yes,” she panted, lifting her hips off the
table. “Let them both have me. I’ll suck you while you watch. While
they fuck me. Both of them at once. I’ll do anything you
like.”

He thrust into her again, and her moan of
gratification was deep and utterly sincere. My cock continued to
rise, slow and steady, despite my discomfort. Ayo wasn’t helping.
His hand moved on me, caressing me, urging me to rise for him,
although his face betrayed no interest whatsoever in what was
happening. Gideon fucked Rhianne harder. Her response was as
enthusiastic before. Her eyes met mine, although there was no
recognition there. She was gone, lost inside her head, a slave to
her pleasure. “Fuck me,” she panted with each breath. Whether to
Gideon, or to me, or all of us, I didn’t know. “Fuck me, fuck me,
fuck me.”

It would have been easy to give in. To let the
eroticism of Gideon and Rhianne win me over. To turn toward Ayo,
pull him into my lap, or push his head toward my groin. I could
have done anything. It was tempting too. I thought of Ayo’s warm,
sweet body, and of the release I’d been denying myself since
leaving Davlova. I moaned as Ayo began to stroke me.

But then I glanced at him. His face betrayed
nothing. No arousal. No interest. No concern at all. Yes, he was
touching me, stroking me, longing to please me, but it wasn’t real.
It was nothing but programming at work, telling him to satisfy his
master.

“Excuse me.” I barely got the words out. I
bolted from the room, down the hall, into the bathroom. I was
relieved to reach the toilet before my stomach clenched, bringing
up the dinner I’d eaten less than an hour before.

From the dining room, I heard Rhianne’s
euphoric cries as she orgasmed.

I spent several minutes in the bathroom,
waiting for my hands and knees to stop shaking, trying not to think
of what Gideon had put his wife through simply to make a point. I
thought of the many public sexual acts I’d seen in the lobby of La
Fontaine, the most fashionable restaurant on the hill. I shuddered
at the memory of Benedict, and the sneer on his face as he’d asked
Donato to share me. Later that night, Donato had bent me over the
table, taking what he wanted in the middle of the restaurant, with
nothing but a paper screen to shield us from prying eyes. And on
our second visit to La Fontaine, I'd been utterly shameless. I'd
practically begged him to fuck me in the lobby, regardless of who
might have seen.

Whether in Davlova or Deliphine, the rich were
used to having their way. If I’d moved in with Donato and become
his kept whore, would he have fucked me in front of strangers,
simply to soothe his own ego?

Would I have enjoyed it as much as Rhianne
had?

I thought I knew the answer, and it was one I
didn’t care to dwell on.

Eventually, I rinsed out my mouth. I washed my
face. I didn’t return to the dining room, though. I went instead to
our bedroom where I sat on the bed, my head in my hands, wishing we
could leave. Wishing I could think of some way for us to escape
Gideon and Deliphine and the Dollhouse forever.

Sometimes later — I had no idea how much time
had passed — Ayo let himself quietly into the room.

“What happened to you?” he asked. “One minute
we were talking, and then…” He touched the spot behind his ear. “I
don’t know what happened. You were gone. He told me you’d be
here.”

I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk about
Gideon’s ability to trigger Ayo’s inert state, or his belief that
Ayo was less than human. “I didn’t feel well.”

“Are you all right?”

“I’ll be fine.” Eventually. When and if we
ever got a moment of peace.

Outside, the sky had gone dark. I rose from
the bed and crossed to the window to scan the landscape of
Deliphine. The buildings were too high, too close together, too
dark, foreign in every possible way. Even the breeze blowing in
through the open window felt wrong. Everything reminded me how far
from home I really was, and how powerless I was in the place where
I knew no one. The desire to take Ayo and run was almost
overwhelming, but where would we go? What would we do when the
implant in his brain was telling him he couldn’t leave? We couldn’t
outrun it or fight it, but the idea of giving in to the Dollhouse
filled me with a terrible hopeless rage.

I studied him in the waning light. He was
trying to be strong, but his eyes betrayed him. “How’s the
hook?”