A latex girl thing

“I have no family, no friends.” Slave was walking calmly down the stairs as Rusty tore the kitchen apart. “I only have strangers over for dinner.”

Rusty opened the refrigerator. Inside were plastic bottles of water and glass bottles of milk. He grabbed the milk bottle and broke it to make a weapon. It was not milk; the sperm stuck on everything and some of it splashed into his eye. He dropped his broken glass weapon and it shattered.

“Fucker!” There was Slave, right at the base of the small stair, almost ready to box him in. “That was one of my sweet snacks I love warmed up!”

Fleeing, Rusty punched past Slave and ran up the other set of stairs; the one he took earlier for the tour. He needed space; he hoped to hell one of those play rooms had something he could use to protect himself. He didn’t want to find out what she would do to him.

“There is no way out, Master,” said Slave unequivocally. “And there is nothing in this apartment that can actually hurt me! I am not human! And I’m not just a piece of latex with a mind of its own!”