He had been staring out the window for the past hour, tapping his finger on the arm of his chair, the sky was clear, but dusk had set its lovely cloak over the city skyline. He was waiting for a package though. He kept fidgeting in his chair, constantly checking his phone for a new message or a new piece of information, part of him hoped it never showed up, the other part of him hoped it was already here.
"Sir, the package has arrived." the monotone voice of his samurai bodyguard echoed through the silent room. The businessman snapped up, surprising for his pudgy size, but to him it was nothing but floating on air. It’s finally arrived.
xxx
"Just sign here, and there, and right there," the little delivery man smiled graciously, his hair was neatly trimmed, teeth whitened, and a freshly ironed suit only mildly stained by sweat The handful of security officials surrounding their vehicle made it obvious this was a high priority job, but when they opened the door the Samurai saw her.
Wearing a light grey coat, a blue blouse, and a pair of cheap chic pants, she presented herself to him. A bead of sweat moved down his employer’s forehead, the short bobbed hair, those blue-grey eyes, even the scars on her arm had him enraptured. He kept stoic though, escorting "her" into his abode. It was night, but the businessman had already taken the next few days off of his work for this very moment. Walking through his home, he showed her everything that he could, pointing at paintings, furniture, and even pictures of a young man in a business suit holding a fancy degree from a technical college.
The Samurai just looked uncomfortable, it had been three years since he's seen "her" walking around this place, three years of dealing with this emotional wreck of a man as he poured into his work trying to afford "her." The Samurai left them alone as they went upstairs, her movements were elegant and practiced, every step well coordinated and programmed to perfection. She was an expensive Bunraku, a doll made to look like a person, made to act like one, made to order. She was high-quality, not the cheap ones he's taken his pleasure with, she was made to be that way.
The Samurai popped open a Blast Cola, opened his phone to check the Catfight Showdown matches, and relaxed in the lounge. He dreaded the sounds he was going to be hearing the next few days.
xxx
"My dear, do you remember this room?" the businessman swept his arms across the bedroom, immaculately cleaned and prepared exactly for this occasion.
"Of course dear, I love it, I love our home." the doll replied, her voice took a team of thirty people a week to get perfect, the gene editing on vocal ranges is always a pain, mostly a specific one. The pitches had to be perfect, mostly one like her, a custom model that was specially designed for this exact moment. The businessman hugged the doll tightly, dutifully she wrapped her arms around him in an automatic motion.
"I've prayed every night for this moment, prayed I could hold you again in my arms," tears moved down his cheeks, she was smaller than him, height and width, but at this moment, as he sunk to his knees, never letting go of the doll, he felt so small. "It's been so long, so long since I could feel your arms, your breath, everything. . ."
"I love you, dear," she replied, the only response that seemed appropriate. Recreating a person's persona is difficult, a solid recreation may take years, and even then it may not be "perfect" as there are things always hidden behind smiles and tears. Often they skip around, the decision to cut out some unnecessary functions were required to save time and budget, her persona designer had to take a week off from the stress of making this one exactly the specifications.
He looked up at this divine thing before him, three years ago she was taken away from him by cruel fate, and now here she is, his beloved wife in the flesh. That same smile, those same eyes, and even her hair. Why did it feel so off he thought, looking up at her in the light, Everything was perfect, right? He had ordered perfect, he demanded perfect, he wanted . . . she knelt down next to him, and kissed him on the forehead like she used to, those soft lips piercing his negative thoughts. She's perfect he thought, absolutely perfect for this moment.
He kissed her on the lips, gripping her tightly, exploring each other's mouth's like they used to, her thoughts were processor based, her RAE (Random Access Emotions) chip was firing on all cylinders to get the right amount of everything. An RAE chip is the most expensive part of a Bunraku, it's easy to grow a body from nothing, it's harder to give them feelings. Often times clients want simple things in their dolls, they want a happy girl who enjoys taking a nine-inch dick repeatedly without crying out, they want a supermodel who can pose and follow directions to "look good," or they want a simple brute who knows how to throw a mean right hook at another puppet. A person though, that's a bitch, there's a million things to consider, so often it becomes an amalgamation of different sensations to create "a person" rather than "the person." This Bunraku was specifically a bizarre combination of "loving housewife," "ill girl next door," "executive business woman," and "maid" with some additional RAE modifications thrown in.
The Businessman lifted her up and moved toward the bed for this occasion, clapping three times in rapid succession to create the correct mood. The lights dimmed and the smooth jazz music filled the air, wet sloppy kisses permitted the doll's body as he moved lower, removing his, and her, clothes as he went down. The doll stared uncaring into the void for this situation. The puppet’s RAE wasn't prepared for this overt display of affection, so it was trying to come up with something, but it even knew to dose serotonin into the body, recalibrating adrenaline functions properly, and pumping blood more efficiently, forcing the heart to beat stronger. The doll started to have an orgasm without anything occurring yet, that function was part of the "Maid" RAE.
He moved his tongue along the inner recesses of her soaking wet pussy, while he "pleasured" her, her mind was moving chemicals around to produce the desired result. She began panting, moving her hand through his thinning hair, pushing him deeper in. The RAE decided it was time to cum, she lets out a squeak as she struggled to keep a hold of him, he looks up from his position and sees her panting.
That's not right, she hated when he went down on her, she would always smack him with those dainty hands. Dissuade the thoughts, the Businessman mind said, stop that, focus, it, no, she, she wants dick, he wanted to dick, he wanted to stick his dick in her. He mounted her, kissing her deeply as he thrust his throbbing cock into her. Her RAE wasn't quite done processing what happened before, so she sat there without moving, the brain unable to process all this information at once. When finally it figured itself out, he was thrusting in and out, she wrapped her legs around him and kissed him deeply as he pounded her pussy again and again. One of the subsystems of the RAE gave an automatic response to situations like this, lock him in and go for it, it was part of the "loving housewife" routine.
He was crying again, it wasn't right, none of it was right, she wouldn't do this, she wouldn't even want to have sex like this. She'd want to talk to him longer, she'd want to read one of her books while laying on his gut, she'd suggest it, he'd oblige and the two of them would fuck quietly and quickly. It was those precious moments before and after, just laying in the afterglow, playing with her hair and her talking about her new novel.
He finished inside of her, a final thrust to let out the hot jizz, tears, and three-years of hope he was feeling. This wasn't his wife, this wasn't what he wanted, he wanted her back, but all he got was a doll pretending to be her. An exquisite replica sure, but as she laid there, giving that natural smile in such an unnatural way, he felt defeated. She was gone and he had to accept that. He pressed his forehead to hers.
"I love you dear" she said.
"I'm sorry dear," he replied.
xxx
It's been a few months since she arrived, the Samurai was told her new name and position in the house. She was a maid, as "they needed a woman in the house after all." She had been taken back and came back . . . different though. A few parts were missing, the hair was now auburn, the eyes were a deep green, and she spoke in a cheery voice. She acted as a maid more than anything, ate with him and conversed idly between her work.
He still took her every now and again, they were quiet like it was before. He even tried to be subtle at first, inviting her to clean the room, only for the Samurai to hear the sound of knees coming down and the distinct pants of a man getting his dicked sucked. After he realized he didn’t care, he’d just message him to not question the sounds if any.
He’d fuck her on the floor, pulling that new auburn hair like the reigns of a horse.
He’d let her ride him like a horse, jumping up and down on his dick panting and saying “let me ride your stallion” repeatedly.
He’d hold her tight and let her melt on his dick, like a horse.
The Samurai swiped off “The Equestrians Cowboy Lover” from his tablet and debated the finer points of his life. The Businessman had given him all his wife's books, all cheap schlocky romance novels and "erotic" fiction. He had done so out of charity, and from what the Samurai had gathered, apparently his co-workers got in on the free books as well. In between bouts of reading the Catfight results, mostly about Amazon Huntress breaking Ms. Marvelous’s nose with a savage left hook, he'd consult these books for what the next role-playing session will be.
Will it be the sexy prisoner getting railed by Warden Big Cock? Handcuffed to the prison bars forced to show it all?
Will it be the sexy astronaut being forced to suck Conqueror Dick Largicus’s throbbing member to save the galaxy? Falling in love with the conquerors bravado charms and larger than life personality, and dick.
Will it be the adventures of Montana Mary and the Temple of BDSM, tortured by the the crazy European Dr. Riesige Wurst? With his rather large member showing Montana Mary the “American Solution” to her problems.
The Samurai gagged a bit just thinking about it, he had to give it to the old misses, she knew what she liked. As all her “fuckers” tend to be variations on the idiot upstairs trying the “American Solution” out right now on his maid puppet. He took a deep drink of his Blast Cola after thinking that, he needed a harder drink.