as much as possible because these rental girls have the toughest lives. I am their reckless madam. I’m working ahead on what will be fully functional android companions one day, where sex will be only one aspect, though Daniel says that’s Pollyanna. Our office is something like an R&D lab brothel: sterile, clean, spare, metal ITtype racks of body parts inventory, a silicone morgue, except that our dolls aren’t made of silicone, rather a polymer composite. Our inventory system tracks custom nipples, hands, buttocks. We actually offer six body styles for the three girl-doll personalities and a dozen faces and five skin tones, plus hair choices and permanent makeup. The animatronic head, which can think for itself, is what really drives the price up. Both of my rental girls have these heads. Last night, the groom was named Rob, but it was his two childhood friends, Cliff and Jared, who came by themselves to pick Dollie up for the bachelor party. They planned to smuggle Dollie into the hotel suite they had rented for the occasion. They let slip that the hotel was the Four Seasons downtown. But that didn’t give me any comfort that they would be gentle with Dollie. I haven’t found that it works that way. “Wow,” Jared said, “she’s really lifelike. Can I touch her? Think Rob will like her?” I had enlivened Dollie before they arrived so she could be ready for them. “I’d like to get to know you a little better first, Jared,” Dollie said politely. “Shit!” Jared said, taking a little jump-step backward. “That’s freaky. This might be the kind of woman a bachelor could live with!” I had programmed in each of their names as well as an identity system for Dollie to tell them apart. I had dressed Dollie in a sexy, playful way with a lacy bra and matching panties, tasteful hot pants, and a sleeveless top. “I’m sorry, Jared,” Dollie said. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Why don’t you come sit down next to me and tell me a little about yourself? Do you like sports? Do you smoke cigars?” “Actually, I like classical music,” Jared said. “What am I saying? She’s a robot. I’m talking to a robot!” Jared was lean and a little suspicious, dark hair and complexion with sharp features. Then Cliff asked, “Does she have to talk?” “No, you can silence her,” I explained. “Well, at least for now,” Cliff said. “Maybe later, though, it might be fun. Can she talk dirty?” “She can. It’s a popular feature.” CHARLES SCOT T
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