I take care of business.

You step into the bathroom, and close the door (force of habit)

*Click*

It locks behind you. Of course it does! Fuck.

TRAINING ENGAGED

Says the house computer, in her dominating, girl-next-door voice.

LEVEL 2, CLEANING

"Well, SHIT," you say.

But when you gotta go, you gotta go, tight?

So you sit on the toilet and do your business. It flushes automatically.

Time to take a shower?

But when you open the shower door, you stop short. There is no water nozzle, no faucet or hot and cold controls.

Instead, there's a rack.

That's the only possible description. It's a big open square, like a huge picture frame sticking straight out from the wall. At the top are wrist cuffs. At the bottom are little shelves with ankle cuffs where you are supposed to stand - like metal bondage flip-flops.

Please stand in the frame.

The house computer says. You hear a kind of sick pleasure in her voice, as if she enjoys fucking you over.

"SCREW THAT!" you shout at the top of you lungs.

You slam the shower door shut before crumpling to the floor, sobbing hysterically.

WHY? Why the fuck is it doing this to me? What kind of DEGENERATE MONSTER designed this thing???