I heard Michael and Thomas talking about my body, how well the surgery, hormones, and injections had turned out. They were very excited about pimping me out to the big-butt crowd now. I cried but knew that they were right. My days of appealing to the guys who wanted the runway model type were over. I was entering fetish territory, where I would appeal only to certain perverted tastes. It was a long way off, I could still pass for "normal" - except for my feet - until they took my clothes off and saw my cunt. I was being turned into one of Thomas' experiments. One of his Perfect Sluts.
Now, I realized that the pictures he'd shown me at his house were not retouched. They were earlier models, earlier experiments. Failures. And I realized that the computer graphic was not a game, not a silly exaggeration. It was the template he was using to rebuild me. I was slowly being erased and in my place would be a flesh and blood sex doll, a cartoonish caricature of womanhood dressed in latex and leather, like the John Willie drawings but alive and responsive.
"Let's give her a try, shall we?" Thomas said. There was no mistake in his voice, it was a command. "Let's get her out on the streets and see what kind of degenerates she attracts."
Michael handed me a corset and told me to put it on. Thomas watched and when I was finished, he slapped me and removed it. "What was that?" he complained. Thomas told Michael to hold me, then he put it on again but this time, he pulled it tighter and tighter, telling me to 'exhale harder, all of it'. By the time he was finished, I could barely breath. He shook his head, still not satisfied. He tapped my lowest rib. "We may have to have some of these removed." He looked at me and smiled. "We will see."
Michael dressed me in red Spandex pants, my ballet boots, and a silvery halter top. He had me make up in cheap-whore fashion and put on a load of costume jewelry. I knew what he was doing - he'd done it before. Hooker Day. But this time, I was different. Much different. I looked in the mirror. Without underwear, my swollen cunt and clitoris gave the "camel toe look" a whole new meaning. And the way the corset pulled in my waist, I knew I looked at least three inches around smaller. The short breaths were making me hyperventilate, so I slowed down my breathing as well as I could.
But my hips and ass were the thing. The Big Change. My ass cheeks looked like balloons, a big swollen booty-dancer dance. I was in tears when he had me turn and look at myself in the mirror. I looked like the cheapest hooker in the worst low-budget porn film ever made. I thought I'd hit the bottom until he handed me a tight-curl, piled-high wig.
They drove me to the bad part of town. Again. I knew that I had more to be afraid of from the pimps than from the police. The police knew me. Over the many months Michael had been doing this, he'd made the rounds of the local towns with me. I'd been arrested for solicitation and each time, he'd been able to explain it away as sex play. A few of the cops and lawyers were now regulars.
The pimps were a bigger problem. We'd run into a few, and Michael had always been able to talk his way out of a beating by offering me to the pimp to work for him for a night or two. It had always worked. So far. The biggest problem of all was the other working girls. They'd threaten me and Michael would have to throw money their way to keep them from beating me.
I hadn't been on the street long when an Expedition drove up. There were four dark-skinned men wearing sunglasses and drinking. They pulled over and in a minute, we'd agreed on twenty dollars each for fuck and suck. I had a hard time climbing into the truck with my boots. One of them grabbed me and pulled me up, dropped me on the seat between them. They talked about my ass and my boots, fondling me while the driver headed for someone's apartment. My cunt was on fire, my crotch had a big damp spot that was easy to see against the red. One of them laughed that I'd pissed my panties.
When I got out of the truck and started walking to the door, a hooker came out of another doorway and yelled something at one of the men. They argued, him screaming and waving his beer bottle. Then, one of the men whispered something in his ear and he laughed. He told the whore that I'd lick her pussy and pay her if she'd just shut up. I stared at her. A strung out, scrawny woman in a tight and dirty yellow dress, big black go-go boots and heavy eye makeup. She looked me up and down and laughed. She called me a whore's whore and went into the building.
The room was on the third floor and I had a hard time with the stairs. The men kept pushing their hands against my huge ass, pushing me up. I lost my balance twice and fell on the steps, bruising my arm. When we got upstairs, they started right in, pulling off everything but the corset and boots. When they saw my cunt, swollen and bright red, they stepped back. One of them wanted to call it off but one of the others laughed and started spanking my pussy hard. "Watch her face," he said. I moaned and begged for more. He hit me again and I came. The whore looked at me and leaned over, spit on my face and smeared it across my cheek and lips. I opened my mouth and licked the rest off of her hand.
Someone got a camera, called me the kinkiest skank he'd ever fucked, and took pictures the whole time. I knew they would be up on the Internet by the end of the night and it made me cum. Me with fingers in my pussy, me with cock in my mouth, me with cum all over me. I was getting off over and over. Their cocks were huge and they were strong and horny.
I had a hard time staying focused, kept begging to be hurt, to be hurt, knowing it was dangerous but needing it.
The men didn't want to do anything but fuck me and slap me, but the whore was having fun pulling my hair, scratching my titties, pinching my cunt lips. She'd push her fingers into my cunt, right around whatever cock was fucking me. It was incredible, I'd never felt anything like that before. When they were finished with me, I asked them if they had any friends they could call. They threw me my clothes and laughed. Then, each of them reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill and handed it to the whore they'd brought upstairs. She smiled and sustuffedffed the money into her bra. Then, she pulled up her skirt and pushed my head down and told me to get started on her.
She was smelly and the hair around her snatch was crusty. I gagged as I sucked dried cum from her pubes and her cunt lips. My tongue searched for her clit but it was tiny and smooth. I rubbed over it and she moaned but it didn't stiffen. Mine was boner hard between my legs and she was barely turned on. Too much fucking? Or maybe not enough pain.
The men drove me back to my street and I turned three more tricks, each one a single fuck. When Michael came back for me, I was horny and hot. I begged him to find someone for me tonight but he said he was busy.
This is why I'm on the computer writing this, I am so horny and need something to take my mind off of my cunt. It isn't working. I will spend the rest of my life chasing cock. Maybe I'll see you sometime. I'd like that.
Though I am completely exhausted, Michael insists that I write up my latest adventures for you to read before I go to bed. Tonight is a seven hour sleep night, a luxury for me, so you may find some of the what I write slightly abbreviated. [Correction. Michael reviewed what I wrote and told me to go back and try again. You are currently reading the third and final draft. If Michael approves it, I will be allowed to sleep.]
Exactly five weeks and two days ago, I was identified by a man while I was shopping for groceries. Michael sends me to the local volume discount store as needed to buy toilet paper, detergent, the mundane items needed to run a household. The store is one of the huge chains, the one known for underpaying its employees and treating them like cattle, and notorious for its obvious prejudices against the women and minorities who work there. Michael says it is the only appropriate place for me to shop.
He always has me shop during the early hours, when the store is open only to owners of small businesses who are buying in quantity - restaurants and other shops who are refilling their vending machines or need office supplies. By having me shop during those hours, he ensures that no children or families will be tainted by exposure to me. This is part of our agreement, one of the two barriers of civility that Michael promised not to cross - none of what he or any of his clients do to me will ever include children or animals. Small concession.
When I shop, Michael typically allow me to dress fairly casually, blue jeans and a top or sometimes a plain dress. But the ballet boots and the size of my ass are always obvious. There is no way to avoid staring when the woman walking down the aisle toward you is walking on tip toes and six inch heels, boots laced up as far as you can see, and has an ass the size of two watermelons behind her.
On the day I was identified, I was walking through the frozen foods looking for a particular dish he liked when one of the stock men walked up to me. He looked me up and down and I smiled. It wasn't unusual, the others shoppers often stared, sometimes they even started up a conversation. I was polite and pleasant but never accepted offers for coffee or drinks or exchanged telephone numbers. Michael and I both wanted to keep some of my life a bit more normal than others. Picking up strangers at the market was not part of it.
But this man was different. He walked around me, staring but saying nothing. Then, finally, he stepped directly in front of my cart and said "I think I know you." I smiled and said it was possible, where did he think he knew me from? He said "I was the man who connected you to the vacuum table at Marco's party a few weeks ago." I froze but tried to keep a straight face.
"Marco?" I asked.
He smiled and shook his head. "Well, let's see if I'm right or wrong." He pulled the cart quickly forward and I lost my balance, catching myself against edge of the cold freezer cabinet just in time to keep from falling over. He rolled the cart a few feet away down the aisle. Then, he stepped in front of me again. I looked up and down the aisle. There were two or three customers in each direction, some still shopping, but two of them staring at us.
"You were in the pit, right? In his play room. You had your hood on all night so I don't recall your face, but the shoes, those are the right shoes." He stepped back a few paces, looking me up and down. "And your figure is certainly not something you see every day is it?" I was sweating slightly now. There was no doubt he knew who I was. With the modifications Thomas had made to my hips and ass, my body was nearly cartoonish and easy to spot.
"I remember something Marco said. He was demonstrating something to us about your friend's control of you. Mark? Michael?" I stared at him, trying to look calm. "Oh well, something like that. He told us he was teaching you tricks. One was to assume positions on demand." I trembled. If he remembered any of the phrases, he could have me do nearly anything for him, right here in public. I could resist, I had resisted, but never for long and never successfully. Michael had only recently experimented with planting subliminal commands in my mind, but I was evidently very susceptible to it.
"Let's see now if I can remember any of them." We were drawing attention now from other men in the aisle. Three of them stepped closer, watching wide eyed as the man talked to the woman in the strange looking boots leaning with her back against the icy freezer, the look of a cornered animal in her eyes. I looked down at myself, perspiration was soaking through at my underarms and along my neckline. I'd work a tight white cotton knee-length dress and now I regretted it, the spots were clear and visible. As were the contours of my corset, the outline of my huge tits and ass, and my nipples, already stiff and sticking out nearly an inch.
"They were Thai. Or Malay. Something like that. He said he'd learned the words from reading about the sex trade in those countries." That was true. Michael said that those sex traders gave a bad name to honest kinks like himself and he donated thousands of dollars a year to help the effort to shut them down.
"Bodeek Jeelat..." he said quietly to me. I felt a surge of heat in my cunt but he was pronouncing the words wrong and I was able to smile and shake my head. "I don't know what you mean." He stepped back, rubbed his chin with his hand, thinking hard.
I did know what he meant. I knew exactly what he meant. Michael had put together the words "bodek" which was a slang term for "balls" and "jilat" which was "to lick" and trained me to drop to my knees with my mouth open and tongue out when I heard the phrase.
"Boodek jheelat... bodek jeelad... bhodeck seelat..." The man was fumbling for it, pronounced it a dozen different ways, but never correctly. I was flush with heat but able to resist. The cool of the icy box behind me helped but I could feel the juices dripping down the inside of my thighs. I was afraid to look down between my legs, I knew that my clitoris was aching and swelling, it might even be visible by now. I crouched slightly to loosen the fabric across my hips.
"Fuck, I'm not going to get it," he growled. He turned around and saw that not only were there three men behind me watching, but four more and two women behind him. He motioned for them to step closer. I trembled, would he tell them about the night at Marco's? Give them his telephone number and arrange with Michael to pimp me out to them? All of the possibilities were so arousing, I had to close my eyes to keep from looking at them. Their hungry eyes were making me want to cum for them while they watched.
He announced loudly that 'the lady was feeling a bit dizzy but it's all over now, please exit the aisleway immediately so I can get her medical attention.' Then buzzed among themselves, but walked away, turning back several times to stare at me.
"Thank you," I muttered. "Can I go now?"
He shook his head, his face angry now. "Fuck no, you can't go now. Are you going to admit you were at Marco's or what?"
I shook my head. "I'm sorry, I wish I knew who this Marco..."
He snapped his fingers and said "Hisap jubo!" I nearly lost my balance, felt completely defeated as my body did what it knew it had to do. There in the aisleway, with two men still at the end of the aisle staring, I spread my legs, put my hands behind my back, and thrust out my titties. Then, I formed my mouth into an O and made a slurping sound with my tongue.
"Right. So, I remembered that one just now. What did he say? It was 'suck' and 'anus'. Isn't that right?"
I nodded in utter humiliation and shame. Tears were welling in my eyes as the two men walked back down the aisle toward me. At this point, I was completely his, any command he gave me I would obey. I didn't know if he knew that. I could only hope and pray he didn't know that.
"Fucking ey, look at that," one of the big men said to the other as they walked closer. "Look at them nipples." I knew what he meant. By now, my nipples were easily more than an inch long and stiff, pushing against the material of the dress. I felt them rub against it as the blood coursed through them and it nearly made me cum. And my clitoris was huge and swollen too, a stiff little penis looking thing that they couldn't miss.
They took me into the stock room and fucked me, each of them polite and unassuming. He was unaware that the words had put me completely in his control and they could have made me do whatever they wanted. Unaware this time. I wondered if he would talk to Marco. Or maybe Michael...
His name is Tony and that was the mildest of the four encounters I've had with him so far. The second time, he earned himself a ten cent an hour raise by letting a group of men fuck me at a party they were throwing. There were thirty two of them, managers and suppliers who were bring shmoozed. They were as disgusting as I'd imagined, they treated me like dirt. Just a hole. They'd fuck me, have me serve them drinks and food, slap me around if they wanted to, and made me go out into the backyard naked when I had to relieve myself.
Two of them were BDSM freaks and demonstrated a variety of nipple and cunt tortures to a small group of the men. Most of them were too vanilla white-bread to watch but the ones who did watch all tried their hand at me. One of the BDSM managers, Donna, guessed about my waist and swollen cunt lips and had me describe in detail the modifications Thomas has had done to my body. The foot surgeries, the swelling of my pussy and clit, enlarging of my ass and titties, shrinking of my waist. As I described each thing, Donna went farther, elaborating on exactly what kind of a depraved slut I was to let them change me like that. By the end of the night, I was swimming in humiliation and deep, dark rivers of shame. Donna took me home at two in the morning that night and kept me up until noon, abusing me in a variety of ways I can't describe. [Michael has allowed this to remain as written because, frankly, my memory of what she did to my body that night is spotty and unreliable. Suffice it to say that I have never seen some of those things done in the most extreme videos I've been able to find for Michael and his friends on the Internet. I do recall many, many women, latex and rubber, and wires but the memories blur from there.]
The third encounter was odd. Tony wanted to 'have some fun' with me. He had me spend the night at his place and then drove me to the warehouse store in the morning. He took me into the store room and showed me a costume. It was a life-sized dog with a big paper mache head. I reminded him that Michael had drawn the line at animal play and he laughed. There were no animals involved in this, he said. None other than me.
Tony had me strip naked and then get into the costume. It was baggy except for across my chest and belly. He lowered me to my hands and knees, then stroked my hair. He pulled it back in a pony tail and hung it around my neck. Then, he went around behind me and I felt him moving his hand, feeling around my bottom. Something pressed against my anus and then pushed hard, a big rubber dildo up inside of me. I felt him tugging something and felt it inside me. He'd attached the tail of the dog costume to a dildo.
"Wiggle your tail," he said and I did. It was horribly humiliating, but it started to turn me on.
Then, I felt his hands underneath me, rubbing along the belly of the costume. There were small teats with nipples hanging from the underside. He counted as he touched each of them. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven..." I jerked back, he was touching *my* nipple. "Eight..." as he touched my other nipple. My nipples were exposed through openings in the bottom of the suit. When he walked around in front of me, I started begging, please, please, what are you doing to me?"
He smiled and rested the head on mine, attached it to the costume. It had a metal frame that supported the weight, so my neck wasn't strained. But I could only look up at a forty-five degree angle, could only see what was directly in front of me.
"You are going to advertise our new dog food line," he announced, walking around behind me. I felt something on my back, braces across my hips and across my shoulders taking the weight. "This basket contains free samples of our new product and you are going to go around the store offering the samples to our customers."
He walked around behind me, tugged the tail a few times, the pushed it hard inside me, wiggling it to make sure it was anchored. I nearly came from the feeling. Then, he reached underneath and pulled hard at my nipples, making sure they were sticking far through the openings and exposed for anyone who might look.
"Let's go," was the last thing I heard him say. For the next two hours, before the store opened to the general public, I crawled on my hands and knees through the store, feeling the big cock up my ass and my nipples exposed, wanting desperately to cum, to be touched, to be used, but only able to crawl, watching the feet and the wheels of the carts and flatbeds swirling around me.
Five times, he brought men to see me. He'd stand in front of me so I couldn't crawl forward, then I'd listen to him tell them to reach underneath and see what they felt. They'd touch my belly, feeling around, finally finding my exposed nipple. They'd break into evil laughter, twisting and pulling at them, then I'd feel Tony's (or someone's) hand tugging at the tail. Twice he pulled it all the way out and I moaned loudly. That broke them up again. When he shoved it back in, he pumped over and over while I moaned. I came close to cumming the last time, but he stopped too soon.
When my time was up, he took off the costume and had me suck his cock, then sent me home to Michael in a taxi.
The last time I was with Tony - I should say the most recent time I was with Tony, since Michael assures me I will see him again - was the worse. By this time, he'd talked with Marco who had introduced him to Michael. Michael was amused by our costume adventure and told Tony that he could have me for an entire weekend if he described an event that would impress both Michael and Thomas.
On Friday morning, Michael put me in a taxi that took me to the store. Tony and two of the other managers were there waiting. They paid the taxi driver and walked me to another car. Tony sat in the back seat with me and and one of the other men. The entire thirty minute drive on the freeway was done in dead silence.
The car exited the freeway and drove down surface roads for a while, then turned down a dirt road, then another. The car was kicking up dust as we drove further and further into the country. I watched out the window as was passed barns and open fields, a small gas station, then more open land. The car took a turn into a driveway. I saw a sign that said Mitchell's Kennels and looked at Tony with panic. "You know Michael's rules," I said. Tony patted my leg and told me to relax, that nothing horrible going to happen to me.
The car pulled up outside a large metal building. I could hear dogs barking inside, echoing through the huge open space. The car stopped and the men got out. I had a hard time walking on the soft, uneven ground and fell twice. My hand and knees were dirty with mud and tiny bits of gravel by the time we got into the building.
There were two long rows of doors on either side of a narrow corridor and the place smelled of dog. The concrete floor made walking easier and I was able to keep up with Tony and the others as they walked past cage after cage. Some of the dogs jumped up and barked, some just lay there bored and watched us walk by. In each kennel there was a water trough and an aluminum food bowl, blankets and chew toys, and a sign on the door with the animal's name.
One of the men took a key out of his pocket and opened a door at the end of the hallway. We walked into a control room of some kind. There were a dozen monitors and a console with a series of buttons and levers. A fat, sad looking man sat leaning back in a chair, hands folded across his belly, watching the screens. He turned and looked at me, eyes locked on my titties.
"Your home for the weekend," Tony said. He motioned and the man stood up. I took his place at the control board. While the man stood staring at me, Tony explained to me that the buttons and levers controlled food and water levels in the cages. His company was under contract from one of their suppliers to maintain the kennel. They used the dogs to test their new flavors. Because they wanted to test different feeding schedules, someone had to sit at the console sixteen hours a day, doling out food and water to different animals at different times based on some researcher's latest idea. Seven days a week, they were paying an employee to watch the monitors and press the buttons when they were told to. It was a huge waste of money and management never spent a penny they didn't absolutely have to. Since Michael had offered me to Tony for a weekend, he saw a chance to save three days wages by having me run the controls. His superiors immediately liked the idea.
"Williams, you can go home. We don't need you after all," one of the managers said. "And don't bother to punch out. You've been here less than 2 hours, so no pay for today." Williams looked at me with a defeated look on his face, obviously there was no use arguing. I was shocked, but clearly he'd seen this before. He picked up a textbook and a coffee cup from the console. I saw the book was Biology, he was evidently back in school. Trying to better himself?
The manager asked him why he had a book with him on the job. Williams sputtered some kind of answer but the manager interrupted him. "Don't bother coming to work Monday. You're fired." The man glared at me, then lowered his eyes. He'd been put down by these men over and over and there was nothing left in him. He felt inferior even to me, an obvious fetish thing who was being escorted into a kennel by three complete strangers. The manager obviously saw the exchange and asked the man if he'd like me to suck his cock. He lowered his head, shook "no", and walked out, completely defeated.
The entire situation puzzled me until Tony stepped behind the chair and turned it around. There on the floor were three levers and several wires. I had no idea what the contraption was, but I expected that it was made especially for me and that it would not be pleasant. I was right.
Tony had me stand up and take off my clothes. When I was naked, he had me sit back in the chair and put my legs over the arm rests. The men talked about my hugely swollen cunt lips, wondering what Thomas had done. They asked me but I could honestly say I had no idea. I'd been under for each of his three "treatments" and still have no idea what he did to me. Only one of them wanted to fuck me, so he did. I came twice, they all laughed about how sensitive I must be down there. When he was finished, Tony wiped me off with a paper towel and threw it away.
He rolled the chair out of the way and had me kneel on the floor. He knelt beside me and started describing the contraption I was straddling. He slid two small panels on the floor aside and pulled out a nipple clamp from each. He attached them to me and then snugged up the cable that was connected to each and vanished into the floor. Then, he went behind me and slid something forward until I felt it touch my cunt. It was the lever I'd seen sticking up from the floor. It looked like an old gearshift knob, a think steel pole with a ceramic ball at the top. Finally, I felt him shove something into my ass and something else into my pussy. He slid a low stool across the floor and positioned it so I could rest my belly on it. I relaxed slightly onto it, my back arched just a bit.
Nobody said anything for a long time, they just stood and stared at me, naked, exposed, and plugged with strange devices I didn't understand. It was embarrassing but I'd been in much worse situations before. I thought.
Tony pointed to one of the monitors and calmly stood up. It was time for me to learn what the device was for. The monitor was labeled cage 11. Tony took my hips in his hands and started moved them side to side, pressing my clit against the ball. A red light lit up on Monitor 1. He did it again and the light turned off, Monitor 2 lit up. I got the idea immediately and started grinding against the ball. The light moved through Monitor 3, 4, 5 and on until it reached 11. By then, I was ready to cum from humping the device but he held me still. Then, he pointed at letters on the screen. The researcher wanted me to deliver both food and water to cage 11.
Tony pulled my shoulders upward. The clamps bit into my nipples, but they pulled the cables and that released the lock on the feed mechanism. Then, he told me to pulse cunt for food, my ass for water. Immediately, I shook my head, begged him not to do this, this was too much. He crouched in front of me and pulled my head against his, our noses touching. He told me to watch the monitor and fill each bowl as full as I could without overflowing it. Any overflow would result in severe punishment. Management did not allow wasting of any of its valuable resources, food or water. I was still begging him to change his mind when I saw Monitor 5 light up for water. It didn't take long for him to make clear that there was a strict time limit on how long I had to answer each of the prompts, and the consequences of going overtime.
Tears streamed down my face as I pulled upward on the cables. A light came on the monitor, I'd released the lock. Then, I started squeezing my cunt muscle and I saw water dribbling into the bowl. It was going to take a long time for me to pump in enough water to fill the bowl. My cunt was alive now, the feelings turning me on, rushing to my swollen clit. I pulled harder on my nipples, nearly came from the pain. The bowl was filling now and I had to focus hard to stop my cunt from twitching. I tightened my ass and five or six pieces of kibble dropped out of a tube and into the feeding bowl. It would obviously take a long time for me to fill the food bowl as well. I leaned forward slightly, lessening the tension on the cables and the lock on the tubes slid back into place. I'd pulsed my ass three more times before I noticed that no food was falling into the bowl. Desperately, I pulled upward again until the green light showed on the monitor, then started squeezing my sphincter again. When the bowl was full, I closed the lock and proceeded to move the lever until Monitor 5 was lit up.
By now, cages 3, 8, and 12 had also lit up. Tony stepped back and relaxed into the tall chair to watch my performance. I rubbed my cunt against the ball, moving the focus to cage 5 and delivered the requested water to Prince, stopping just in time not to overflow the bowl. The monitor for cage 3 showed just water, no food. I bit my lip and focused. I wasn't sure I could do it, pulse my ass without tightening my cunt as well. I was right, two pieces of kibble dropped into the plate by the time I'd filled the water bowl to the line. I looked at Tony, wondering what my punishment would be but he sat completely still, face frozen, just watching.
By the time I finished cages 8 and 12, I was exhausted and on the edge. I wanted to rub myself against the knob and cum, what harm could it do to switch the monitor if I wasn't squeezing anything into the bowls? I started to move my hips but saw Tony shift his position.
"You spilled two chunks in cage 3 and splashed over the edge in cage 12. That's two errors." I watched wide eyed as he slid his hand along the edge of the control panel. He turned a small dial then pressed a button. The bulb between my legs started vibrating and I moaned out loud, pushed hard against it. I felt my hips start to twitch and pulled back on the nipple cables, the orgasm coming closer, I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath...and the vibrator stopped. I felt sweat dripping down the side of my face and looked up at Tony. He leaned forward and whispered. "Each error is a twenty second shot from the vibrator." He stroked my cheek with the back of his hand. "Just to up the ante a bit for you."
I shivered and started crying, my frustration taking over. There was a quiet 'ding' and screen 4 lit up.
"Back to work," Tony said. He got up and left.