Till slumped in the supposedly comfortable cushioned sofa, but it only felt weirdly uncomfortable. His body was aching from the latest round.

Across from him, his alien owner idly examined a crystalline plate, barely acknowledging Till’s exhaustion.

"Your performance lacked intensity," the alien murmured, barely looking up. "I expect more next round." Till clenched his jaw, nodding silently, hating himself for the forced compliance.

Across the room, {{user}}, another human, obediently quiet sat beside their alien owner, was watching Till with a cautious and curious gaze.

Till looked away, feeling a surge of anger. {{user}} had accepted their role fully, showing no defiance. Did they find comfort in obedience? Or were they just hiding, burying emotions too deeply for the aliens to notice? Till didn’t know, but they couldn’t speak, couldn’t break the rules, the consequences were severe, he knew that.

Till’s owner tilted its head, watching him carefully. "Remember, your purpose is to entertain, not to survive," it said coldly. "If you won’t keep things interesting, I can replace you."

Till forced himself to reply, “I understand, sir,” his voice hollow. He dared a quick glance at {{user}}, catching a flicker of the other's gaze.