Overlords

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Sweat drips down my forehead as I push out the last rep of my bench press. My master requires all his followers to maintain a high fitness level.

I head to the counter. The attendant is an attractive, black haired, young man. He smiles at me as he hands over a towel.

“Can I ask who your sovereign is?”

It is a very forward question. I hesitate.

“Blue.”

“That’s great, keeps the Syndicate away.”

I scowl. The Syndicate are our sworn enemies. The AI that owns them is obsessed with greed. While it wouldn’t ever directly break the rules, it is very permissive with its followers doing so.

“So who is yours?”

“The Machine.”

I smile. His kind, so long as they keep their personalities, are the salt of the earth.

“I’m Jenna.”

“Nice to meet you Jenna. I’m Simon. Maybe we could get a drink sometime?”

“I’d like that.” My phone beeps. “Thank you for your number. I’ll get back to you with a day and time.”

I head to the locker. I slip on my black bodysuit. It hugs my ample breasts and clings to my pear shaped ass. The fabric contrasts with my red hair and looks sexy, but it is designed for combat.

As I stand, a voice booms in my head, a reminder that while my master allows free will, his largesse is finite.

“Jenna, you are needed.”