Tracy dropped her gum into the trash can on the bus as she got off, making the driver smile as he said good bye. She shrugged him off and ignored his wave as she turned her back and went into her house. He carefully took it out of the trash before he closed up the “barn” for the night.

When he got home, he carefully extracted the gum from the baggie he’d carried it in, then swabbed it to get a clean sample of her DNA from the residual saliva. He then grew the sample in a small petrie dish, which took about an hour.

The petrie dish went into his DNA analyzer, and he loaded it into his computer. Fifteen minutes after that, he smiled when he saw the digital representation of her on his monitor. She was just as beautiful digitally as she was in real life.

He transferred the program to his 3D visor, then put it on and let it run. In the visor, he saw her asleep on the floor of a white room, and she was naked. He concentrated, and she was wearing her school clothes; plaid skirt and white blouse.

He went over and knelt beside her, stroking a little lock of hair from her eyes and tucking it behind her ear. The movement began to wake her up, and she saw him there as she opened her eyes.

“Where am I?” she asked, sitting up.

“You’re safe, here, with me.” he smiled, squatting next to her, then helping her stand up.

She looked at him. He was about thirty, she guessed. Dark haired, with more than a hint of beard growth, but only his goatee; not his neck or cheeks. He was taller than her, probably six feet to her own five and a half. Medium build; not quite two hundred pounds, she guessed, but she didn’t recognize him at all.

“Who are you?” she asked. “Where am I?” She looked around, but all was white space around the two of them. “What is this place?”

“This is a computer program,” he said. “You’re not really you; you’re a computer program written with Patricia Darnell’s DNA. This place isn’t really real, either.”

“I’m a program?” she asked, considering. “But no… I’m Tracy! I’m me, and you can’t tell me I’m not!” Her voice was stridently insistent, so he raised his hands and surrendered the point by ducking his head and grinning.

“I’m glad you’re you,” he said. “This way, I get to learn all about you without risking making you mad at me in the real world!”

“Is that why you did this?” she asked, looking at him fiercely. “I feel like I’ve been kidnapped, you know. If you hope I’m somehow going to fall in love with you think again! I hate you for this!”

He looked at her sadly and shook his head. “That’s not why you’re here at all.” He looked at her and grinned. “Are you a good dancer? I like to think I am.”

She looked at him blankly, and the background blurred around them, then blinked into focus, and she was on a little round stage, the center one of three such spotlighted areas in an otherwise darkened room that was somehow filled with mutedly cheering men.

He was sitting in an easy chair, the only one in front of her stage where she was holding a shiny steel pole with one outstretched hand. She snorted a laugh and let go, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at him.

“Seriously? This is how you see me? You think I’m a stripper? This I what you want from me?” She was offended to her very core. Somehow, just the very fact of him seeing her in such light made her worth less to herself, and she felt a little panging burn of shame deep in her guts.

He looked her straight in the eyes, and she could see the truth of his words in them. “It’s exactly what I want from you. Can you be a stripper for me, Tracy? Will you dance with me so everyone can see how beautiful we are when we move together?”

She froze for a long moment, then she saw him smiling at her as he tilted his head in a certain way as his eyebrows did a little thing, so she smiled back and turned her back on him, flipping her skirt up for the briefest of seconds and showed him her perfect white pantied ass.

He smiled broadly a her, and held up a bill, indicating she should come closer to take it. She came over, walking right to the edge of the platform.

She saw that it was hundred dollar bill, and he moved her skirt aside to tuck it into her panties, patting her pubic mound with a little rub to ensure that it was seated properly (it was.)

As she moved back, she heard him call out “Dance for me, Tracy, come on, I know you got some moves in there!”

Tracy’s though flickered to the one time she had seen a TV showing an adult scene she hadn’t been old enough to watch but she had snuck a peek to see what was forbidden, as all children do, and saw a woman on a stage just like this one, but she had taken her top off and bared her breasts for the whole room to see.

She set her feet and cocked her shoulders square as she took the pole and did a quick twirl, smiling at the little wave of dizziness that washed through her for a moment.

“Show us your tits!” someone near the back shouted, and a chuckle rippled through the room.

“This is a lady!” he said, defending her. “Show some respect!”

“Yes, sir.” came the man’s voice again. “Show us your tits, please!”

Another burst of laughter rippled through the crowd.