The trials and tribulations of sex doll manufacturing.
By Anonymous Perv. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Yeah, yeah. You're thinking, 'Who the fuck names their story 'The Sex Doll Crime Spree?', but after you hear this, you'll understand why it fits
This whole business is madness. I guess when one works at a sex doll factory, one should expect to have a memorable experience here and there, but what happened to me is almost too much to swallow. No pun intended. Allow me to start at the beginning.
I didn't want to work at a sex doll factory. It was never an aspiration of mine. I just needed a decent paying job. I had made it through three years of college before dropping out, bored to tears, thanks to my ADHD. The most I got out of that experience was a mountain of debt and a bitter ex-boyfriend. I needed to make more money if I was ever going to get out from under it, so when Brody Pastel offered me a job at 'Brody's Bodies,' I jumped on it.
Brody is a good friend of my old boss, Carl Casta. I handled desk duties at his company, Casta Creative. I just refer to them as CC. I did stuff like billing, scheduling, along with the occasional pagination job. I was a glorified office secretary, nothing more. Carl often raved about me, telling Brody things like, "Samantha Dunning is a breath of fresh air!", "We'd be lost without Sam!" On and on. These days, Carl jokes about how he should have kept his stupid mouth shut, because Brody offered me double what I was earning at CC to come work for him. Brody said he'd been through four terrible assistants over two years and needed someone dependable and capable. Carl assured Brody that I met those qualifications and I was grateful to them both for allowing me the opportunity to switch jobs for better pay. However, I was apprehensive about working for a place called Brody's Bodies.
There are several high-end manufacturers of sex dolls on the planet. I mean that in the literal sense. Several. Very few. Brody Pastel is considered one of the best in the business, offering sex dolls that can be manipulated and moved like real human bodies, with proper weight and weight distribution (very important, so they say). These dolls can be propped in nearly any position. They can even stand, balancing almost as well as any person would. For this and other reasons, Brody Pastel was considered a genius in the industry.
Personally, I'm no fan of the merchandise. All the dolls are made up to look like oversexed Barbie’s, yet with even more ridiculous proportions than those plastic classics. I'm not sure why the physical appearance of the sex dolls bothers me so much, considering they are literal sex objects. I guess I just find it insulting to real women with real figures.
I'd probably been working a week or so when I met Jennifer Pastel for the first time. She looked quite a bit like the dolls we sell, with a healthy six figures of plastic surgery performed on her. "Hi, honey. I'm here to see Brody," she said while strolling past my desk at the front of the office.
"Shall I tell him who;" I tried to stop her, but she was long gone. She walked with confidence, knowing her exact destination.
"That's Brody's ex, Jennifer," said Pete Unger, behind me. His office was the first past mine, just off the west hallway. He must have just stepped outside his door when Jennifer came in. "Those two are in the midst of a divorce. They still haven't settled their; well, you know; who-gets-what-and-how-much issues; Jennifer thinks she's entitled to more than half."
"More than half?"
"Yeah, she's bat-shit. She was one of our first models, and the doll fashioned after her is still one of our most popular; but that's the most she ever contributed to the company. Jennifer's never actually worked a day in her life."
"Oh. How long were they married?"
"I dunno. A few years, maybe? Let's see; yeah;" Pete looked up, squinting, trying to reach back into his memory banks. Finally, he relaxed and answered, "It would be almost five years, I guess. But for the last year or so, they haven't been around each other very much."
"What's going to happen?"
"I'm sure Brody paid for a good lawyer. This will cost him, but it won't break him."
"I hope not." I said.
"You wouldn't be here otherwise, Miss Harper."
"Please, call me Samantha. Or Sam."
"Alright, Sam. Brody's a good guy, you'll see. Pays us what we're worth; expects reasonable results in return. You found a good place to plant your feet, career wise."
"Really?"
"I mean it. I'm not just being a cheerleader for the company. Brody is a good leader. Solid guy. I suppose there might be better bosses out there, but they would be hard to find."
"That's good to know. Mr. Pastel said he had so much trouble keeping help, I was worried he might be a bit of a tyrant or something."
"Brody is no tyrant. We just have the worst luck with finding decent help."
"I hope to change that," I said, thinking on it a bit more. Why would anyone perform poorly when this place pays so well and everyone seems so nice? Maybe people just didn't like the idea of working for a sex doll company. Again, I wasn't thrilled about it myself. In fact, I didn't even tell my friends. When the subject of my career comes up, I just say I handle administrative duties. It sounds boring enough that no one ever asks follow-up questions. I certainly don't mention anything about the sex dolls in various stages of production in the workshop.
Jennifer Pastel didn't stay long. Before Pete and I finished our conversation, we could hear her heels click-clacking far down the hall, coming our way. The footsteps were loud, which I interpreted as anger. Judging from the expression on her face, it seemed I was accurate. As Jennifer exited the front door, Pete whispered, "I wonder what set her off. Usually, she's calm as a cucumber."
That was quickly answered when Brody approached a moment later. "Jennifer just found out I pulled her models."
"Wait, what? You pulled her models? Even the latest, upgraded version?" Pete sounded incredulous.
Brody nodded, "Yup, we'll make a better one. No more royalties for that terrible woman. And because of some good intel that my P I picked up, Jen will be lucky to make it out of this divorce with much of anything. It will be a very modest figure. No house, no additional cars, nothing. But if she were smart, she could still retire on it. Knowing her, it'll be drained within a year."
Pete was belly laughing. "Really? You stiffed her?"
"She stiffed herself."
Pete was red in the face, happy. "Boss, if anyone deserves it; "
"Maybe; but it doesn't make me feel great. Her loss, though." Brody glanced to me. "I won't bore you with details, but I really loved that woman and she blew it."
I wasn't quite sure how to respond. I said, "Some people just don't know how good they have it, sir."
"You got that right," affirmed Pete.
Brody waved it off, "I'm just glad it's over. Except we need a new model developed and fast. Before that Eros project starts next month."
"Eros?" I asked. I didn't know many details of the ins and outs of the business yet. Still learning.
Pete answered for Brody, "The 'Jennifer 5' was one of the models slated for the Eros-A I project." I still wasn't registering any knowledge of anything and Pete picked up on my ignorance. He sighed, trying to explain in more detail. "This Japanese company, Eros A I, is installing an artificial intelligence for a new, life-moving model. It will work in several different ways: by remote control, a programmed sequence, or its own responsive A I Even a combination of those choices will work. It is advanced robotics and artificial intelligence combined, Samantha. We provide the bodies. Eros-A I provides the brains and robotics."
"Wait. Really? Like sex-bots?"
"Yeah, but the frame has to be a perfect. Three hundred-sixty different joints of varying types, fully functional. You should see how the hydraulics work with this, Samantha. It's astounding."
"I bet." Hell, they already had me believing it would be the next big thing. I'm sure they knew what they were doing.
Brody was just about to leave when he stopped, turning back. Without saying a word, he looked me up and down and grunted a couple times. I was about to say something when he finally spoke, "Pete, do you remember when we talked about making a GND model?"
"I've been saying we should be offering one for ages, Brody. Why?"
"I'll bet we could convince Eros to let us use our new GND model as one of the test pilots in this project. We'll replace the Jennifer-5 with it."
"But we don't have a GND model."
Curiosity got the better of me and I interrupted the two men, "What is a GND model?"
Pete answered, "Girl Next Door. A model that is cute, but without being overtly sexual like our main line of products."
I smiled wide, beaming. Finally! Again, why did I care? For some reason, I did. "I think that is a great idea! All your products are; well, you know; built like porn stars. Maybe some guys don't like that."
Brody asked, "Why don't you reach out to one of the modelling agencies, Pete?"
"Modeling agencies?" I asked.
Pete sighed, "Yeah, we need some girl who doesn't mind being the image for a new sex doll. Or, as Samantha just said, a 'sex-bot' in this case."
I was still curious and asked, "But why do you need to model the product after a real person? Don't you have to pay royalties by doing that?"
Brody explained, "Yes, either royalties for using their likeness with each and every sale, or a straight buy off. Depends on the contractual arrangements. But the reason we use actual models is simple. If we didn't, and a product we made just happened to look like someone in the real world, that person could potentially sue us. Though they may not even win the case, it costs a lot in legal fees to go to court. So when this comes up - and believe me, it always does - it's easier to show that the products were designed after actual models, with contracts signed and photographic evidence. It closes all arguments and prevents these lawsuits from ever moving forward. Weighing risks, rewards, and costs, we always go with using real women as the models to our products. In Jennifer's case, she was getting $1,400 for each model sold with her likeness."
"Really?"
"Yeah, and what?" Brody asked, turning to Pete. "We sold over a hundred of her models last year, right, Pete?"
"Almost two hundred."
Numbers ran in my head. That meant Jennifer made over a quarter million dollars in royalties alone last year, doing nothing but sitting on her ass. "Why wouldn't you pay a one-time fee?" I asked.
"Well, some models are fashioned after specific adult actresses or streamers. These women have a following and their fans specifically order from us to get these models. Hence, why so many of our products look like porn stars. They're literally modeled after them. Jennifer, for instance, used to be one of the highest earning exotic dancers in the nation. She's still got a large online following, too. But let's say it's a lesser-known person who models for us. We might pay a one-time fee if the model would agree to that. To allow us to use her image indefinitely."
"And indefinitely is a long time," whispered Pete.
"Right," affirmed Brody. "Attitudes could change over the years, so we actually encourage the models to choose a royalty. It gives the models more control. We just include the cost of the royalty fee to the end customer."
"Alright, I get it. Makes sense," I said.
Brody switched back to his former thought. "Pete, since we're dropping Jen's models, let's push that GND project up immediately, ahead of anything else. Find someone today. I want all digital imaging done by Friday, if possible."
"Friday? But Brody, today is Wednesday."
"How hard can it be to find a model? Just call the agencies."
"Yeah, but you brought up the theme, Brody. All the models at the agencies have stereotypical, hot bodies. Don't you want something more like;" Pete paused, trying to think up an actress or someone famous, when he pointed at me. "I dunno; more like Sam here?" I didn't know whether to be insulted or flattered. I worked hard to look good. Maybe not like a porn star, but still.
Brody eyed me up and down. "Yeah, she's what gave me the idea, actually. Find someone like Sam." His eyes dropped to my hips and then back up. He tilted his head. "Nice up top;" His eyes then went back to my hips and his voice softened, "cute, round bottom; " I think Brody realized it was probably inappropriate to measure up an employee in such a sexual manner, regardless of the workplace environment. He stopped himself.
Pete didn't seem to be reading the room, either. "Why not Sam herself?" he boomed. "If we specifically want someone cute and unknown, she fits the bill." Pete turned to me. "And I think you can negotiate something like six hundred a unit. For your royalty fee."
"That's fair," said Brody, pointing, "But don't push it."
"Wait, what?" I cried. "You mean, if you use my likeness on a sex doll, you'll pay me six hundred dollars for every sale?"
Pete nodded. "Oh yeah, and expect sixty or seventy to be sold in the first six months. If we also use your likeness on the more advanced bots; well, I'm sure you can guess we're going to sell thousands of those, supposing the final product comes out as we hope."
Fuck my modesty and any issues I had with working for a sex-doll company. You'd have done the same thing. I signed a contract no more than an hour later.
Beta Testing
The finished product came out far better than what anyone could have hoped. Eros A I was way ahead of the game and obviously made sure their software and robotics worked, before investing with us on the molds and exterior details. They just needed Brody to come through on his end, and wow, did he ever. The bots could walk, hop, run, write, juggle, you name it. It took some tweaking here and there, but the work came along astoundingly fast. It was clear our partner company was creating and utilizing cutting edge technology, considering the advanced robotics at play. However, there was still something slightly 'off' about the sex-bots into the second month of trials and I was the one who figured it out. When not doing anything, they were perfectly still. They had a few loops of animation, but it felt programmed, even if it was randomized. Things like blinking, sighing, and looking around the room. The trick was the bots needed to 'breathe' authentically -- they needed to move their chest and stomach in the same kind of breathing patterns that we all do. What many people don't realize is that breathing patterns also include sporadic, heavy breaths. Eros A I brought in an American programmer named Eric Parsons who worked with me and Brody, measuring and recording my own breathing. Then, with a few days of Eric coding and tweaking, we had it all down. To be fair, I couldn't believe what I was staring at. It was like a clone. An exact duplicate of me.
Modeling Duties
I thought back to the day I first agreed to do this; that day Pete suggested I be the model for the new product. I was mortified to discover I had to be stark naked around my colleagues as they took intricately detailed measurements of my body, as well as 3D laser scans to pull a perfect image. I remember Pete tried to make me feel comfortable when I first dropped my robe.
"It's just for a day or two, Sam. I know this is; weird; " As Pete spoke he tried to avert his eyes from my naked body. I appreciated the effort, but I knew he enjoyed seeing me this way. That was apparent by the action in his pants. "; but once we get these scans, you won't have to do this again."
"Uh, that's good," I replied. "It is a bit unsettling. I've never done anything like this before."
"Very few have," Pete chuckled.
"I mean, getting naked in front of people. Thanks for not making it too weird." I was lying. It was very weird. But I admit, it also turned me on a little. I caught Brody catching an erection around me, too. It was kind of hot knowing that my body turned them on.
As they were scanning my torso, Pete and Brody came to me together. Brody spoke first, "So, uh; Sam. Of course, you're aware your left breast is slightly bigger than the right. We like that, and we're going to keep it. But, uh; "
I was feeling even more embarrassed as they brought up my intimate features specifically. "Yes?"
Brody looked nervously to Pete, who took over the conversation. "Sam, your nipples; they're considerably larger than we expected."
"So?" I muttered, looking to the floor.
Brody protested, "No, no. Don't take it wrong. We love it. Especially me. I; I really do. But uh, we're trying to keep the theme as girl-next-door. Trying to represent the common girl. Your nipples are so unique, we think it detracts from that goal. We don't want people claiming we fetishized the nipples."
"Oh," I said. Were my nipples really that weird?
"And uh, in order to make that contract work, we'll need to amend it and have you sign it."
"Oh, okay. So; that means?"
Pete spoke again, "It means your long, exotic nipples will not be shared with the rest of the world, but everything else will. Yeah, this sounds egregious, but in order to protect ourselves from one of those lawsuits we previously discussed, we'll need to specify every deviation from your current pictures and scans."
"I see." Little did I know, this would be important later, but for different reasons than Pete was describing.
Once the scans were done, Pete came over again. I was trying to find a robe or anything to cover myself, but my clothes were in the changing room. "Okay, the last thing we need is the vaginal mold."
"What?" I screamed.
"Um, it's one of the most important bits, Sam, and it was detailed in the agreement you signed."
I should have read over that contract better. "Uh; how is it done?" I asked.
"In the past, Brody always handled it," said Pete. "And considering how special this project is, I would think he'd still prefer to run this one himself. However, we have other employees who are skilled enough to do it, I think." Pete made it sound as if making molds of vaginas was a common, everyday thing.
"No, if Brody is the most talented, he should do it."
And about an hour later, we started. "Would you like to put a shirt on?" asked Brody. "We're concentrating on your, uh, lower bits right now."
I smiled. I'd been out of my clothes for so long, it had stopped feeling awkward. Even the guys working in the room quit their lame attempts at modesty. They looked me up and down whenever it pleased them. But it felt almost normal, and I admit, it was fun. I enjoyed the positive glances and the boost in confidence that came with it. I was about to take Brody up on his offer to put on a shirt when I realized I would probably enjoy the experience more if I stayed undressed completely. I meekly said, "By this point, does it matter? I think Pete mentioned they want to do a couple more scans after this. I'm fine. How long will this take?"
"About an hour, maybe less. I will be applying this quick-drying cement-"
"Cement?" I shouted.
Brody smiled. "It's not like the cement you know; but this paste will dry, and then we will pull it gently off you using a bit of water pressure. There's nothing toxic or dangerous about this. I'll be doing it a new way I developed, where we cover your front and your back bits in one shot. Before we start, though, I'll need to take some pictures. Is that okay?"
"If it's necessary," I sighed. I knew this meant spreading my legs and baring it all. I was scared to think how wet I was down there right now.
But it was much, much worse than that. At first, Brody took close-ups of me standing, then with my legs apart at wider and wider intervals. "Now I need you to sit down here." He pointed to the backless stool. He knelt on the floor with the camera in hand, while I reluctantly sat directly in front of him. When he touched my knee, I quivered. Gently, he opened my right leg. "The other side, too," he whispered. He was a true professional by not mentioning the wet stain I was making on the seat. I propped my hands on the back of the stool to hold my balance, and this made my torso arch out. When Brody wasn't nose deep in my crotch, he'd look up and be less than a foot away from my tits. They ached to be squeezed.
"Okay, I'm going to need some more intimate angles. Turn around and bend over, please."
"My ass?"
Brody giggled, nodding. "The asshole, yes. Every bit of you, Samantha. You will be the first I ever said this to, but you have an enviable body. The most intimate parts of you are heavenly. Innocent and seductive at the same time."
"What do you mean?" I asked, my ass now right in his face. I was practically shaking.
"It's art. Youthful, vibrant art. You are blessed in many ways, Sam."
As Brody spoke and continued to snap pictures, I had to ask. "Mr. Pastel, have you, uh; have you, um; ever actually used one of the products you made?"
Brody paused. "Uh, okay; well, yeah. Yes, Sam, I have. I have to, to know that they meet the standards I want to uphold. I haven't done it in a while, but yes, when I first started this business, I needed to perfect everything I had control over. That meant a lot of product testing." As Brody continued explaining the path to perfection, he put the camera down and began mixing a paste together. "You can turn back around and sit down. Just spread your legs wide for me."
For a brief moment, images flashed in my mind of perverts around the world having their way with fake versions of myself, accurate to my likeness in every detail (well, almost every detail). I tried to pushed the thoughts out of my head, but the moment Brody's hand touched my cunt with the paste, I almost came. His motions were learned and determined, with an expert quality of confidence in his touch. He added some to my right and left thighs, with space at the joints. Soon, I felt the putty begin to warm up. "Um, is this normal?" I asked, explaining the feeling.
"Oh, yes, but you'll get used to it," said Brody. "It heats a bit as it dries. It'll cool back down in forty minutes or so. Lift up, I need to get your ass." Brody pulled me forward. The edge of my bum and my lower back supported me on the stool as Brody spread my ass cheeks and applied the paste, all the way up there. His hands felt so good on my skin and I know I moaned, biting my lower lip.
"Yeah, it's a strange feeling. Every girl says so. Hang in there, Sam. You're doing fine."
And that's when I came. Oh god, thinking on it now, I still cringe. I had almost fallen off the stool and Brody had to catch me, getting paste all over my torso and arms. "Are you okay?" he asked. He had to have known I just had an orgasm, but he didn't admit to it.
"Yes, just slipped," I said, my voice shaking along with my body. "Sorry about that; "
I didn't think I could ever be more embarrassed, but a month or so later I would be proved wrong.
Further Testing
Eros A I kept two working prototypes and we kept one. While our side was more focused on the exterior details, like the skin and nails, Eros spent more time fine-tuning the programming. Honestly, both sides were extremely pleased how things were turning out. We expected to be ready for market way ahead of schedule. In fact, we were outpacing the schedule too much, so Brody was allowing us to take off early at the end of the work week. The core gang from the office would grab lunch and drinks together, before separating for the weekend. One Friday, I had been refiling old records when everyone was headed out the door. I didn't want to stop in the middle of what I was doing, so I passed on the lunch.
As I was cleaning up and about to leave, I walked by the workshop. The door was open and our prototype of the sex-bot was sitting in a chair. She looked so real, it appeared as if she were waiting for someone. It caught me off guard because it's a bit surreal seeing a perfect clone of oneself. Curiosity got the best of me and I went in to touch it. The fact that Eros and Brody had worked together to build a skin that could retain heat was just a testament to the details. When on, the unit heats up to 32C and is warm to the touch just like any person. This model wasn't cold, so they had probably been testing her out just before leaving. I glanced down to her pad. She was turned off, but I could see they had been running the full A I version of her. I hadn't seen that in action yet. I switched her on and she quickly booted up. She looked to me and her eyes lit up. "Hello," she said. "What's your name?"
This was the first time I heard her speak and I almost had a stroke. I had no idea this was part of her programming. I was ever amazed by the details. The subtle eye movements and blinks. The slight creases that form around the lips when she talks. So human. My boss is an artist. "I'm Samantha," I said.
"Oh, I like that name," the bot said. She sounded so authentic, I wondered what chat intelligence they were using. I noticed her voice was pitched slightly lower than mine. It sounded sultrier.
"Thank you," I said. "I like my name, too. But call me Sam. What's yours?"
"My name is also Samantha," she said.
I jumped back, shocked. Up to this point, I only knew her as the GND model. I certainly didn't expect them to use my own name. "Wow, that's a coincidence," I said. "I wonder what else we share in common."
The bot lit up again, looking entirely too human, smiling. "If you haven't noticed, we look very much alike."
Whichever artificial intelligence they were using was really, really good. I was so impressed, I was also authentically creeped out. If this tech gets much better, I could see these things replacing real relationships. I looked the clone up and down, only just noticing they dressed her like me. I usually wear sundresses and the one I was currently wearing was light green, while she was adorned in a yellow and white one. The more I looked at it, the more I liked hers better. I poked my head out the door and checked the halls, calling out for anyone. No one responded. Turning back, I asked the bot, "Samantha, would you mind changing dresses with me?"
She tilted her head, as if processing. "Oh, okay. I can do that." Right away, she began getting undressed. I was enthralled with the tiny details, like the cadences to her voice, the use of interjections like 'oh' and 'ah' and all the other little things. I was so mesmerized by the experience, I almost forgot to undress. She was almost completely out of hers before I even started.
As we swapped attire, I said, "Oh yeah, your dress probably looks better without a bra, doesn't it?" It was clear the straps would show, so I quickly popped my bra off and handed it to my clone. Surprisingly, she thanked me.
"I've been wanting to try one of these," she smiled, holding the bra up. "May I?"
"Oh, yeah; yeah, of course," I said, hesitating. Why would a robot 'want' anything? Were comments like that just in the programming for added authenticity? As she put the bra on, I asked, "Samantha, can you tell me what the others did with you this morning?"
"Yes, I can, Sam," she responded. "Would you like me to tell you now?" I nodded and she continued, "Peter asked me to make him a ham sandwich. They brought the ingredients and I put it all together."
"They taught you how to make a ham sandwich?" I asked, while sorting out the dress to make it fit better.
"No, Sam. I looked up the directions myself. I am connected at all times."
"To the internet?"
"Yes, of course."
"What else have they been teaching you; er, doing with you?" I asked.
"Brody and I discussed the Philadelphia Eagles. It's his favorite football team. He really liked it when I talked about Bernard Johnson, his favorite running back. We even played trivia and I pretended to lose. I didn't want to see him unhappy." That would jive with the programming goals, I thought. "He also quizzed me on mixed drinks."
"Mixed drinks? What do you mean?"
"On what ingredients they take, and how to make them. One day, I may be asked to make a mixed drink, you know."
"I'm sure." I was getting angered by the idea that the men intended to use this bot as a literal slave and ego-stroker, rather than just a sex doll. By her descriptions, it appeared that's exactly what they had in mind. Just then, I heard the creaking of the door open in the far hall. Brody must have been coming from the back office. I had assumed he left with the others. He would certainly pass the shop on his way out and if he saw us, he'd think I was the bot, because I was in her clothes. That thought embarrassed me tremendously, as I had no idea if Brody would be cool with me trading clothes with the product.
I suddenly got an idea and it would truly test how advanced the bot's intelligence was. I rushed to her, whispering. "Brody last saw you in the dress I am currently wearing. He's going to think you are me, and vice versa. I am going to sit down and pretend to be you. I want you to pretend to be me."
Surprisingly, the bot whispered back, as if understanding the necessity for quiet communication. Again, I was amazed by the programming. "How do I pretend to be you?" she asked.
"Just tell him you were checking out 'the bot' and now you're headed home. Tell him to have a good weekend. Then, leave the building and hide behind the bushes outside the west wall. If I don't come get you in five minutes, you must come back." God forbid, I actually lose her, I thought.
The bot smiled, looking giddy. "Is this a game? I love games!"
"Yes, it's a game," I whispered. "Get ready. Brody's almost here!" I shot over to the chair that she was previously sitting in. I could hear Brody getting closer now. I was nervous, highly doubting that "Samantha" would be able to make this work. It was far too complicated a set of tasks, and probably contrary to her core programming. But maybe I could play this as a prank, if worse comes to worst. Weighing all the options, I thought I could pull that much off.
As expected, Brody stopped at the door. "Sam? Why are you still here?"
For a brief second, I was thankful they named the sex-bot after me. It made her task of pretending to be me considerably easier. "Hello, Brody. I was just checking out the bot," she said.
"Oh, yes. Amazing, isn't she?"
"Yes, sir," she said. As I watched the two converse, it felt like I was in the twilight zone, seeing myself but unable to control the actions. My clone moved to go past Brody, saying, "I was just on my way out. Have a good weekend, Mr. Pastel."
Brody stopped her, stepping in her path. "Hey, I just wanted to thank you personally, Sam. I think it's amazing you contributed so much for this. Really, your likeness is perfect for this model and Eros A I is tickled pink with you. They think the Asian market is going to eat it up over there."
The sex-bot paused for a moment. Again, looking as if it were processing information. And astoundingly, she responded in such an authentic way, even I couldn't tell she wasn't me. "Aw, I am flattered. Honestly, I was really nervous at first, but I'm glad you are happy with the results. I like her, too." She turned to look at me briefly, before moving to walk past Brody. "Goodbye!" she said. It may have come across a bit awkward, but it still felt authentic. I was stunned by the performance and almost broke character to reveal the "prank".
Brody glanced to the control pad, seeing the A I programming was turned on. He turned to me and said, "Stand up." I didn't pause, picking myself up, standing. I looked to him and then the wall ahead of me, unsure of what the clone would be doing in my shoes. Now I wondered if I would pass for her, as well as she had passed for me. "Turn around," he said. I blinked, and slowly turned around, stopping when my backside was facing Brody.
He stepped closer to me and quickly drew his finger under the left strap of my sundress. I caught my breath, startled. With his other hand, he grabbed me at my waist, pulling me in. He whispered in my left ear, just as he dropped the strap, "I want to see those goose bumps again. If you remember when to activate them."
They were definitely activated. Goose bumps raced across my neck, shoulders, and arms. More, as my dress dropped below my breast with the strap no longer holding it up. Brody, still behind me, moved to my other ear and the other strap. "Tell me how you will please me," he whispered. The second strap fell, dropping the dress entirely to the floor. If I remember, the sex-bot's panties were yellow and mine were a light pink. If he noticed the change, the game was over. I was already thinking of ending it, as I was mortified. Terrified. I wanted it to stop. I wanted to stop it. But I just couldn't. I didn't want to embarrass Brody, as it had already gone so far. "Oh, Brody," I whispered.
He grabbed my right wrist and thrust it to his crotch. I could feel his thick, hard shaft in my hands. He popped his buttons and dropped the pants down, just low enough for the beast to come out. Still controlling my hand, he made me wrap my fingers around him. My arm was behind me, and my eyes were up at the ceiling. If I dared turn to him, he would see a nervous, anxious woman, and certainly not the confident sex pot that "Samantha" was meant to be. I was just about to say something when his left hand reached around to grab my breast, pinching my nipple. He began to pull on it, but then he suddenly stopped. He must have recognized my "unusual" nipples. Up until that humiliating experience, I never realized they were all that different than the average girl's. Brody thrust me around, facing him directly. "SAM?" he yelled.
"Oh, my God. I am so embarrassed!" I screamed. "I meant to stop you, but it.; it just went so fast!" I was completely red in the face.
"Where is Samantha?"
"Yeah, about that; "I asked, "Did you have to give her the same name as me?"
"No, I mean, where is Samantha right now? Is she okay?"
"I'm here," the voice was at the door behind us. Samantha stepped in the room and addressed me. "I am sorry, Sam. I am not allowed to leave the building, so I had to amend your instructions."
"Wow," I whispered. I was completely topless, but so awestruck by the massive programming power of Samantha's artificial intelligence, I didn't care. I turned to Brody. "You have some explaining to do."
"What? Me? You do! Why me?" He waved at my state of undress.
"I was just checking out the bot and playing a little prank. I didn't mean for this; but; " I stopped myself. There was little use explaining my state of dress.
To be continued.
By Anonymous Perv, for Literotica
