Miriam
“I’m going to do it,” I said out loud. One of my co-workers, a normally incurious fellow named Bob, looked at me as I uttered this phrase. “What are you going to do?” I blushed. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but as usual, it came out anyways. “I’m buying a Fem.” An older woman named Gina, who was what one might call pleasantly-plump, also turned to look at me. “Honey, those things are just a waste of your time and money.” I shook my head. “I’ve given it a lot of thought, and that’s what I’m going to do.” With that statement, Gina shrugged and went back to work. Bob had already turned back himself.
The uninitiated might ask what a Fem is. Fem stands for Female Emulation Machine. A robot in the shape of a woman. Over the years, a number of names have been given to these artificial women: gynoids, fembots, pleasure-droids… The most recent marketing ploy is the one that has lasted the longest. As with most new technologies, they started off as scientific curiosities, then the playthings and tools of the rich, and now they were within the reach of the average consumer. Not that they were cheap, but you don’t need to be a multi-millionaire to buy one any more.
After work, I went down to the Pygmalion Corporation store that was close to where I live. Sometimes referred to as Piggies by the FemNazis, they were famous for making custom looks for their Fems without being too expensive. They also had a good reputation for building quality products and having great customer service. I entered the store. The first thing that I saw was an attractive woman dressed in a pastel business suit. Pinned to her jacket was a name tag: Kathy. Under the name tag was a red ribbon with the word “Fem” on it. She walked forward and gave a little bow. “Greetings, sir. My name is Kathy and I am a Fem. Did you need any help?” “Uh, yes. I wanted to purchase a Fem.” She smiled. “Very good, sir. Did you have any specifics in mind?” “Well, I wanted one to be able to do all sorts of… you see, I need a new computer and I figured…” “There’s no need to be embarrassed, sir. If computing power is what you really need, then we can accommodate you. During the selection process, if some other features also appeal to you, we can make changes then. Even after you purchase your Fem, you can always adjust things as needed. Come right this way.” We went to a room that was rather large. She sat down next to me and the holo-table lit up. Pictures of various women, or Fems, flashed by. “We have a variety of models available, each one capable of doing different things. You indicated that you wanted computing power.” Three Fems popped up. Of course, since Pygmalion specialized in unique appearing Fems, this didn’t help much. A list of stats for their model number and computing power helped a lot. “While these models do have a great deal of computing power, we have found that they are somewhat limited for use by a single owner, being much more suited for use in business and government. I feel that if I sold you one of these models, you would be less than satisfied.” I turned to look at her. I blushed, but she was right. “Well, yeah, I also want her to, um, do the housework and, well,” here I paused before saying, “be my girlfriend,” really fast. She smiled. “I thought as much. Don’t worry, sir. I hear that many times, and this particular store specializes in those types of Fems.” With that, she turned back towards the display. Several women appeared. “We have several types suitable for home use, our Intimate line, our Service line, but for you, our Companion line would probably be best.” One of the models enlarged to fill the entire space. A list of stats appeared. “This type, one of our most popular models, has good computing power and excellent social interaction. She will also be able to help with housework including cooking, cleaning and minor appliance repair. While her sexual sensitivity and responsiveness is not as good as our Intimate line, very few people have ever been dissatisfied with their performance.” Once again blushing, I said, “Sounds good.” From then on, it was all about customizing my new Fem. I did start at computing power. That was something I really needed. I got something that was more powerful than my ailing computer, but less powerful than a dedicated computer would be. I got the standard household package for domestic work. The came the zinger: her external appearance and sexual settings. The last part was actually the easiest. Each companion model exits the factory with a standard setting, which can be changed by the owner at any time. Her external appearance needed a little tweaking. “To start with, in order to accommodate all her inner workings, she needs to have a minimum height of one-hundred and forty-eight centimeters. We recommend a little extra in case you want to add some upgrades later on.” “How about one-hundred and sixty centimeters?” “That would work out well.” We went on to racial type (Caucasian), hair color (auburn), eye color (green), skin tone (tanned, light), breast size (C cup), and so on. “For the face, you may have the computer select one from a set of features that you feel is suitable, or you can construct a face from available face templates. For an extra fee, you may have one of our human artists construct a custom face for you.” “I think I’ll try to make one myself.” Using templates of eyes, ears, noses, foreheads, chins and so forth; I managed to cobble together a face that I found very pleasing.
“Now how did you want to pay? Did you want to pay at once, or do you want some financing?” I internally winced. I was not able to pay in one lump sum, but I was fairly sure that I could finance this.
It turned out that I was right, and I was now anxiously awaiting my Fem. “Excuse me, Mr. Calloway?” I started as I heard my name being called. I turned around to see Kathy. Standing to one side of her was the woman that had just been an image on the holo-display a little while ago. “May I present, Miriam,” she said proudly.
Even though I knew she was a Fem that I owned and had helped create, my shyness in the presence of beautiful women once more loomed over me. “Hello,” I nervously said, extending my hand. She looked at me for a moment, her lips pursed in annoyance, before a beautiful smile burst forth and she lunged forward to envelop me in a hug. I was panicked for a few moments before I hugged her back. She did not feel like a machine, or plastic. She felt like a woman: her warm flesh, her curves as they pressed against mine. In fact, I could feel myself reacting to her closeness. I was embarrassed, for she could surely feel it. What she did was to lean over and whisper, “Anytime you want to,” before she untangled herself from me and winked. “Before you leave Mr. Calloway, did you want to purchase any extras for your Fem?”
I left the store with Miriam, some computer equipment that was supposed to make using Miriam as my new computer more enjoyable, plus clothes for her. To be honest, I was in a daze. I had essentially bought a beautiful woman who would do anything I asked her to. It still didn’t feel real as we went to my apartment and closed the door behind me. “So, what do we do first?” she asked me. I turned to look at her and realized that she was carrying all the bags. I dimly recalled that she had insisted that she carry the bags. My instincts told me that she would be as mad as hell for being treated as a pack animal. She didn’t look mad. I then realized that I had expected her to do all the chores around the house. “Uh, I guess we start with a grand tour,” I said. “Just put those down for now.” “Sure thing.” She carefully lowered the bags. “Where do I put them afterwards?” “Um, to be honest, I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about that.” “Don’t worry about it. We’ll think of something. Now where do we start?” So I gave her the tour, introducing her to my dirty and under-stocked kitchen, my cluttered living room, my mildewed bathroom, my messy bedroom and my cluttered, musty and messy study. As we talked, I began to relax. She hadn’t been upset at my now casual references to her cleaning up. Once we stopped, she asked me: “So, what do you want to do now?” “Um, well, I don’t know a whole lot about owning a Fem. Is there anything I need to know?” “It’s not very complicated. I’m designed to be very user friendly. There’s no user maintenance that has to be done. I do need to be serviced once a year, but you bought the ten year service plan. I need to shut down every night, but I recharge off the Induction Line. I’ll obey any order you give me, unless it might cause harm to you, me or others. You can change my settings with my remote control or through the computer interface.” She paused for a moment. “Did you want to see me naked?” My head snapped back at that last statement. “Wh-what made you say that?” “Just for a change of pace. Talking about my technical specifications is very dry and boring. I guess I’ll see about making lunch and see to the boring task of moving in.” She took a couple of steps in the direction of the kitchen before stopping to turn around. “But you know, you can order me to do anything, and I won’t get mad.”
I watched her as she puttered around the kitchen, cleaning where necessary and getting the ingredients to make a meal. I pulled out the thin, metal cylinder that Miriam had come with. I pulled on the tab and unrolled the thin metal. When it reached its maximum extension, the memory metal stiffened until it was as hard as steel. The screen came alive with displays, showing me the inner world of Miriam. It showed me that her processor use was green, as was her power consumption, system status and so on. It was a symbol on the bottom of the screen that held my attention. It was a bar, about half-full, that showed her arousal level. Now, my brain was yammering at me, telling me that Miriam was not a beautiful woman who would promptly scream bloody murder if I were to do any of things I was imagining doing to her like kissing her, putting a hand on her breast and so on. My gut was telling me that this was a don’t-look, don’t-touch supermodel and that I should get the hell out of Dodge while I had the chance. Somewhere in the middle of all this, I got the idea that I should fiddle with her settings. In particular, I should fiddle with her sexual settings. My brain thought this was a good idea; my gut didn’t panic quite so much, so I went for it. I pressed on the arousal bar. This opened up another menu where I saw arousal level, tactile sensitivity, sexual orientation, and other things I didn’t even realize could be adjusted. I decided to keep it simple for now and just raised her arousal level a smidge. She shivered in response and then turned to look at me. It was a hot, steamy look that promised all sorts of things. Then she went back to cooking and cleaning, but she would often stroke herself, lick her lips, or give me another steamy look. My brain and my gut once more yammered for attention, but now they were being drowned out by a more persistence and powerful voice, my dick. That’s right: it gave a quick moral check – Is this woman willing? My brain answered, “Yes!” and it then told me to stop being such a wuss and go for it. To which I happily complied. I closed her remote, put it in my pocket and began to walk towards her. She heard me, put down what she was working on and turned to face me. I held her in my arms and kissed her. I don’t claim to be the world’s greatest kisser, but that didn’t matter. I enjoyed the taste and feel of her, and she seemed to be doing the same. My hands were roving over the parts of her body that I had always thought of as forbidden. She then pulled back a little. I was a little confused until I saw her undo the tie at the back of her neck. The dress then fell to the floor. She quickly stepped back into the reach of my arms. While I was busy exploring her, she was now busy undoing my shirt buttons, my pants, and everything else she could reach. In due course, I was just about naked, except for my socks. Miram began to kiss her way down my body. She stopped when she reached the pertinent area. I was puzzled for a few moments why she did that and pondered about it later on. It then hit me that she was waiting for tacit approval for what she was about to do. She was a new machine, and our relationship was new. She had assumed that I either wanted a blow job or didn’t mind getting one, but she needed my approval. Of course, while it was happening, I could not simply wait for her to start. She began by kissing and licking me, then slowly enveloping my length within her mouth. I don’t know how, but a small portion of my brain was still working. While it was working, it reminded me that this was basically my first time with a woman. Not only that, but it was Miriam’s first time as well. “Wait!” I managed to gasp out. She looked up at me, questioningly as she stopped sucking. She then slowly withdrew as she waited for my order. I quickly looked around the room. Though the living room was messy, there was a clear spot on the couch where I normally watched the holo. I pointed to the couch. “I want to go over there,” I said. “All right,” she said. As we walked the short distance to the couch, a little more brain power came loose, allowing me to think. What I thought about was how pleasant it was that she simply accepted what I wanted to do. I didn’t have to cajole her or anything. Also, there was no fear of getting a disease from her or getting her pregnant. She sat down on the couch, leaned back and spread her legs open. I had requested that she be bare, and I was not sorry for this request. Her swollen pussy lips (I later wondered how that was achieved and decided that there were some things I just didn’t have to know to be happy) were slightly open, letting me see the moisture that slowly oozed from her center. Her skin was flushed and her breasts heaved and I couldn’t tell the difference between her and a real woman, except for the fact that a real woman wouldn’t be doing this with me. “I can’t believe this is happening,” I said to her. I lay on top of her and tried to go in. She used her hands to both support me and gently guide me in. It was a little awkward, since we were on the couch, but far from impossible. We both gasped at my first thrust. To be honest, I don’t remember what happened next, exactly. I remember a feeling of pleasure as we thrust against each other. I remember the animalistic need to thrust into the woman under me, faster and harder. I remember the blood pounding in my ears so that I couldn’t hear a thing. I do remember that at one point, I could feel myself spurting into her depths, and I could hear my voice groaning dimly over the sound of my rushing blood. After some of my cognitive processes came back, I heard her voice trilling in pleasure. I collapsed on top of her. I was trying not to simply fall asleep. “That was the most incredible…” was the last thing I remember saying.
I awoke sometime later. I was clean, naked, and lying down on my bed. I could dimly hear the sounds of pots and pans clanking.
So, the life as the owner of a Fem was good. After I was done with the novelty of having sex with her, I started to learn how to use her as a computer. Not that I was ever tired of having sex with her, but life does have to go on, and I did need a rest. It was neat: the keyboard, monitor and other bits communicated with her wirelessly. This way, I didn’t need to keep opening her up (which could wear out certain parts before their time.) She just had to be close enough so that the signals came in strong and clear. During this time, I also learned how to reconfigure her. It turns out that I didn’t need to change very much. There was a fuzzy line between my commands, requests and suggestions that had to be navigated. This led to some interesting circumstances. For instance: One day, after dinner, Miriam was doing the dishes and cleaning up. Feeling mischievous, I pressed the Talk button on her remote and said, “Wash the dishes.” She continued to wash the dishes as if nothing had happened, but in fact, she would be unable to do anything else until she finished washing the dishes or she receives new orders. So what I did was to slip up behind her. Now, sometimes, she went around naked and I didn’t really object to that, but it was more useful if she wore something. Both of us liked it when this something was revealing and allowed us to get her naked when we felt like it. Today, she wore a black mini-skirt with a blue baby doll t-shirt. She wore no underwear so that allowed me to do my next little trick. I got a vibrator out. It was remote controlled. I suppose that I could have simply adjusted her controls, but this way was more fun. I slipped up behind her. Now, because of the command, she was perfectly aware of what I was doing. I lifted her skirt and felt her. She was damp and hot, which was good. I slipped the vibrator inside her. “Uh,” she groaned as she stumbled a little. She then went back to washing the dishes. I pulled her skirt back down and went to enjoy the show. Every time I thought she wouldn’t break anything, I pressed the buttons on the remote and watched as she lurched and moaned when I turned up the power. I kept on eye on a monitor that let me know when she was approaching a climax, and I turned the power down. When she was done washing the last dish, I turned the vibrator up all the way and thoroughly enjoyed watching as she fell to the floor, writhing on the floor and crying out in delicious release.
Things went along in this delightful vein for a few months, until there was an interesting conversation I had with Miriam. It was a delightful summer day. On that day, there was nothing to do for either of us. Having Miriam really improved my life a great deal. You don’t think about it, but there are a lot of things that need to be done to keep a house together. A lot of what Miriam is occupied with is what I call upkeep tasks: things that need to be done to make sure that nothing worse happens down the road. The night before, she was done with the backlog of upkeep tasks that I had let slide, so today was our holiday. A lot of things were understood between us. For instance, it was understood that she would be cleaning up after this little party. It was also understood that when I told her I was cooking some crab and mixing the drinks for the two of us, she shouldn’t take over. “Wow, these are great!” she said as she bit into the crab. She couldn’t get drunk and she didn’t need to eat, but she had to be able to smell and taste. “Thank you, lovely lady,” I said to her. I finished mixing our drinks. I handed her one in a false pineapple cup. I raised my own. “To Miriam, who makes my life far better than I could have ever dreamed,” I toasted. She blushed, grinned at me and took a big swallow of her drink.
Later on, I was getting smashed, but that was okay. I wasn’t driving anyplace. The party had moved indoors so I could watch my favorite holo program. During a boring part of the show, my eyes wandered over to the advertising strip on the right. There was a beautiful supermodel, wearing very little and promising that women like her would line up for a man that wore her brand of cologne. As the holo noted where my eyeballs were looking, the ad blew up and placed itself just in front of the main program. Now, it should be noted that all supermodels are human. They’ve had some bio-sculpting done, but they’re human. Fems have replaced human women at the lower end of the sex appeal spectrum: beer commercial girls, low grade strip clubs, low grade hookers, and low grade porn. There’s something about the human female that still draws the male eye, in spite of advancements in Fems. I couldn’t explain it, and no guy I’ve ever met has ever been able to explain it. “Do you like her?” Miriam asked me, snuggling close. “Of course I like her, but I’d never be able to get her.” I paused for a moment as the liquor deadened parts of my brain put neurons together. “Or any other woman for that matter.”
Now, I barely remembered this alcohol boosted confession and it didn’t register on my mind as Miriam hauled my hung-over ass out the door so I could get to work. Miriam, on the other hand, was spending a great deal of time pondering my words. She knew that In vino veritias: basically, that we tend to say things when we are drunk that we wouldn’t say when sober, and that what we say is more truthful. Now, Miriam was a good piece of equipment as Fems go. I had no illusions, however. She was a computer and robot and I shouldn’t expect certain things of her. As such, she wasn’t good at running through the complex emotional morass that composed the human psyche. As such, when confronted with such a problem, she tended to take the direct approach. For instance, if I didn’t want a certain topic brought up in conversation, Miriam was not filled with an intense desire to untangle the web of reasons why I didn’t want the subject brought up. She simply noted that I didn’t want the subject brought up again. Now, she noted that I seemed to want a human woman, but I thought I couldn’t get a human woman. She may not have been able to unweave a complex array of human emotions, but even she knew that its easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission.
She pondered on what she should do. Her logical mind settled on the first course of action: if her owner wanted to date a human girl, then the odds of success were increased if she could find a human girl that wanted to date her owner. So while she was dusting the furniture, she ran an analysis to see which women (filtered so that she only analyzed the women that her owner would consider attractive) had made a reference to me (particularly in a positive way) whenever she was not with me. So it was that I came home from the salt mines to find a fully dressed Miriam standing by with my only suit hanging. I raised my eyebrows. While Miriam’s programming allowed her to deviate from her routines for variety’s sake, it was unlike her to do something totally unexpected. “What’s all this?” I asked her. “This is for your date tonight with Joanna Fuller at the Bolero Grill.” My brain took a moment to process that: who at where? What? “This is a picture of her,” she said, handing me my document plate, “and there is a reservation at the Bolero under your name. Take a shower and get ready and I’ll drive you down there.” My brain was still mulling over things as she pushed me into the bathroom. It was only after I was putting on the suit that enough brain power was released for me to say: “Hold everything! What is going on here?” Miriam stopped dressing me to look at me square. On her face was a look I hadn’t seen there before. It was a look of determination. “You are going on a date. You are going on a date with a human woman. You are going on a date with a human woman because its what you really want to do.” On the one hand, the look of determination on her face was both cute and ridiculous. At a single command from me, she would get me out of these clothes and cancel the reservation and the date for me. On the other hand, I was touched that she would go through all this trouble. So it was that she was dropping me off at Bolero. “If things go really well on this date,” she said to me, “feel free to bring her to the apartment. I’ll be there, but out of sight. Call me if you need anything.” Suddenly, she was opening the door, I had stepped out and she pulled away. That’s when I started to panic. Thoughts of: OhMiGoshOhMiGoshOhMiGosh and How on earth is this happening? were the thoughts that primarily ran through my mind. I then found out that you can only gibber like an idiot (or as an idiot) for only so long before the adrenaline slowly drains away, allowing you to think. My next thought after that was: Might as well see how this turns out. I entered the restaurant and asked the maître d’ where my table was. “Its right this way, sir,” she said. I followed her to a table that was next to a large window. There was a lone woman seated there. She turned her head to look at us as we approached. She was a rather pretty woman a little younger than me with curly, brown hair and was wearing a very nice, green dress. What really surprised me was that I knew her, by sight anyway. When I used to do my own shopping, I would always seem to run into her at the supermarket. We never talked, or anything, but I recognized her face. In fact, I had never spoken with her because I was sure that I would never be able to get her to talk to me, much let date me. “Er, hi,” I said to her. “Hello,” she said, also nervously. “I’m Jo.” “Dave.” I sat down across from her and looked at her for a moment. “Is there something wrong?” she asked, putting a hand up to her hair. “No! I was just wondering how on earth Miriam convinced you to come out here.” I looked at her for a moment. “Well, she said that you were interested in a date, and that I fit your criteria for a date. I was amazed that a guy who owns a FEM would want a regular old human girl like me.” “Are you kidding?”
The topic stayed on the subject on how Miriam convinced Jo to go on this date, what prompted me to buy Miriam in the first and so on for the first half of our date. After that, the conversation wandered into the murky and muddled waters that all good conversations do.
After several dates, I was in a moral quandary. I wasn’t sure what to do. I still liked (loved?) Miriam and wanted to keep her, not just as a maid and computer but as a friend, companion and lover. On the other hand, the relationship with Jo was getting serious to the point where I was thinking that we should move in together, and/or plan to get married. That last could wait a while, but I was fairly sure that Jo would insist that I choose between her and Miriam, and I wasn’t sure that she would be wrong at all.
While I was pondering this puzzle, I came home and was greeted by a sight that almost caused my heart to stop. Miriam was frozen in the middle of the living room. She was wearing a white, terry cloth bath robe. Jo was behind her, brushing Miriam’s hair. Jo was wearing a thin, green, silk bed robe. “I like this. Its like owning a life-sized Barbie doll.” “Er, what’s going on here, Jo?”
Jo gave me a smoldering look. “Miriam here has told me that she’s worried that you’re worried about what to do with her if we were to move in together,” she said to me. “She would be perfectly happy if you threw her out, as long as that would make you happy.” She began to lightly stroke Miriam’s shoulders as if she was giving her a massage. “But I know that that wouldn’t make you happy at all.” I felt as though my dick was going to explode when I saw Jo undo the sash of Miriam’s robe. “That wouldn’t make me at all happy either.” “I’m afraid, that you’re going to have to spell it out for me,” I said to her. Jo undid the robe and drew it back, letting it fall to the floor. “She’s so beautiful,” Jo said. I thought I was going to faint as she stroked Miriam’s flanks. “And she’s totally helpless like this. You could touch her anywhere you wanted, and she wouldn’t complain.” Then she stepped back and undid her own robe, letting it fall to the ground. “I know what’s going on. You think that I don’t approve of her, what she represents: the ideal woman, or what men think of as the ideal woman.” I gulped. “So, what do you want to do?” She smiled. “What makes you think I don’t want her around? She’ll do all the cooking, cleaning and everything else that makes homemaking boring. And if we ever need to spice things up, I’m sure she’ll come in handy.”
She was so beautiful and I was so aroused that I shucked my clothes and we fucked like bunnies. We left Miriam standing there in exquisite agony. Jo had paused her motor functions, but she was awake and perfectly aware. If I had been paying attention, I would have noticed her leaking cunt, her stiff nipples or her ragged, passionate breathing. Still, she was happy because her owner was happy.
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