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</div><br/><br/>October the 21st, 2291<br/><br/>It was a morning like any other for Alice, woken up by the violent coughs that followed a night of drug abuse. The person on the bed rose up in a hurry, his reassuring hand on her back helping her calm down.<br/><br/>…Who was he, anyway? And where was she?<br/><br/>It took her a few moments to fill in the gaps in her memory. Rather, for the computers in her brain to reconstruct the dead neurons in her brain from last night’s Wraith trip. An expensive little pill that gave pleasure beyond imagination, and certainly lethal to anyone who didn’t have the cash to spend on neural backup and restore. She looked behind her, her face certainly far less bewitching with her makeup ruined.<br/><br/>– Right, last night’s toy. –<br/><br/>The memories came back to her. Some of it wasn’t even familiar, probably because she was black out drunk back then. Oh, how good those jolts of ecstasy felt, but she had to say, she found her partner rather lacking. That million credits pill was wasted on him. She stood up from the bed, almost falling down realizing she had slept on her heels<i>again. </i>They did like those didn’t they? She tossed them to a corner of his flat to get her feet planted on the ground, avoiding the cans of cheap beer as she rummaged the wall for a window switch.<br/><br/>When it finally opened, she had the perfect view of the city’s industrial park, half covered by the rundown apartment building in front. “Quite the shithole you live in don’t you darling?” She said, her scarlet eyes gazing at her one-night stand, who was unsure how to reply.<br/><br/>– Boring, boring, boring. You’re a god damn bore. –<br/><br/>She let out an exaggerated sigh, looking at the corner of her eye to bring up the neural interface. A slight little twitch in her eye and another menu opened. Voice control.<br/><br/>“Call Jonathan to pick me up immediately.” She said, her personal voice assistant confirming the instructions directly into her brain.<br/><br/>In the meantime, she needed something to wear. She grabbed a sweatshirt from his closet. Perks of being five foot four, it fit her like a one piece dress. She head out the door without another word.,there was no need to say anything to the equivalent to an extra in her story.<br/><br/>This was her story. Her name: Alice Nolan.<br/><br/>A flying security vehicle arrived with armed soldiers ready for extraction, a man in a suit was inside, holding a fresh red dress and a matching pair of heeled boots, matching lacy red underwear and all. That was her caretaker, hired by her father to tend to her every need. A thankless job, literally.<br/><br/>She did have sex with him on the occasion. Did that count?<br/><br/>—<br/><br/>By the time the vehicle arrived to her destination, she was already late for class. Not that it mattered much, she had stand-ins to plug into and half the time she never showed up. Prestigious universities bent over backwards for big pharma money. Her degree was but assured, there was no need to put effort attaining knowledge the regular way. These days, all the rich kids had cognition engines with internet access far surpassing the great minds of the last century. More than ever, the odds were stacked against the bottom 99% of the population. Only reason it wasn’t 99.9% was because that .9% was too busy getting high on braincell frying drugs. As she mused, she wondered which of those categories she fell into. If she didn’t die by overdose before her dad kicked the bucket, she might actually accomplish something in life.<br/><br/>She arrived not to school, but her penthouse atop the glass city. It was a district for the elite built using the old skyscrapers of the last century as foundations. The roads and parks were made entirely out of glass to let light come down to the lower stratum where the marginalized society lived. At the center of this gigantic metropolis was a pyramid of skyscrapers that best exemplified how society was arranged, with the rich literally living above the poor who hardly had the luxury of sunlight at certain times of the day. It was something she pondered about whenever she felt philosophical, likely the neurons rebuilding themselves after losing twenty percent of her braincells in a drug fueled sex marathon.<br/><br/>Too bad she could only do those once a month. She did take proper care of herself after all.<br/><br/>She walked back inside, her heels clicking on the textured glass tiles. Her apartment was nothing short of luxurious, handyman included. Johnathan took care of her every need, from meals to… those other kinds of meals.<br/><br/>But lately, she had been fancying other things. Jonathan hadn’t seen much use since the day<i>that</i>was shipped to her apartment. It was a virtual reality device, the type that formed a direct neural connection to the usi port on the back of her neck just under her silky black hair. A very expensive toy her classmates –the ones worth mentioning– had been talking about. There was a little app for it that had the maximum price possible in the store. A ludicrous number of zeroes on the price tag, plus an hourly fee to go with it. Nothing she couldn’t afford, granted.<br/><br/>She laid onto the machine. She had nothing better to do, as always. This had become her favorite hobby. Plugging herself in and closing her eyes, all it took was a couple of breaths to completely sync with the foreign interface. Opening her eyes, there she was.<br/><br/>A woman, just as she had left her last time. Prostrated still like a corpse, her doll-like face pressed to the white ethereal placeholder floor, naked with the exception of the high-heel boots she had her put on, the leash and collar that conveniently waited, floating in the air for her master to grab onto. Her long cherry blonde hair spilled on the floor like a spiderweb. What had been yesterday’s game?<br/><br/>Either-way, she’d better turn on the doll. A few swipes of her fingers and she began booting up. It was a strangely slow process, but who was she to question the geniuses who made this depraved little app?<br/><br/>Yes, in there, she was all hers. Nothing to get in the way, no limits to consider. She had chosen a woman first thinking she had enough men for playthings in the real world, but now she just couldn’t have enough. Were those grotesque rods not unsightly, before her delicate beauty? Her shapely, plump breasts, her soft, round bottom. Even down to the little details, like her delicate hands and plump soft lips. All customized to her liking, a perfect toy to play with.<br/><br/>She quickly tired of the booting process, stepping on the doll’s still inanimate face with her heel. The thin stiletto dug into her cheek. Damage was currently off, but the way her soft round cheek sunk certainly looked painful. Yet there was no reaction, as if she was nothing but a lifeless doll.<br/><br/>–Come on, move. Squirm. Entertain me–<br/><br/>And then, suddenly, the gloss on those emerald eyes reappeared, and Alice’s delicate lips turned into a devilish smile. It was time to play.