Flesh & Blood

It started off as a joke. Just a guy's night out, four lonely programmers moaning over how long it'd been since any of us had gotten laid. I think I made a comment about one of the women nearby at the bar, and after a moment of all of us silently drinking in her beauty, someone else snickered about her looking too "high-maintenance."

Then the inevitable comment arose: "One of us should build the perfect woman. Y'know, one who will cook and clean and only open her mouth for one thing." We laughed it off, as we had a thousand times before, and went back to drinking our beers. But something that night was a little different, I guess. Maybe I'd downed too much alcohol, or maybe I was just tired of being shot down every time I tried to approach a woman. I hadn't had sex in over a year and a half, save for pleasuring myself, and the urge was always there no matter what I did. Whatever the reason, that joke somehow seemed more and more like a good idea. The other guys had already forgotten the comment, going off into a discussion about something work-related. But that one little joke stayed in my mind for the rest of the night, playing over and over in my mind like a mantra, and I began to wonder if it just might be possible.

The next morning, when I was sober and back to my usual analytical self, the idea seemed even more intriguing. It might prove to be a worthwhile experiment. After all, for most bachelors, it would be a good investment. Not to replace real flesh-and-blood women, nothing would do that. But for a young man not ready for a commitment, or for the men who simply wanted nothing more than sexual relief, why not? The more I thought about it, the better it seemed. It could mean a significant decrease in sexually transmitted diseases, because anything that might be a taboo or curiosity could be explored without real harm. Programming could make it so where you could have the partner of your dreams without busting up a marriage or risking the dangers of the HIV virus, and when you were ready to settle down, you could just get rid of it and be happy with your new real-life woman. I sat down at my drawing board for the afternoon, thinking out a design for my creation.

I think I told myself several times that this was "just for kicks," that this was just to see if it actually could be done. But really from that moment, I was obsessed. I didn't sleep at all that night, perfecting the plans I'd jotted down on paper. It didn't matter, I had two weeks of vacation time that my boss was just plaguing me to take. He was overjoyed when I called him the next day and told him that I was going to finally take the time off. Designing my invention and building it were two different stories. I'd done some informal animatronics work in college, but I'd been provided with the materials and not had to build from scratch as I was now. Thankfully I've always been a packrat, and I had enough appliances and spare computer parts lying around to supply a small army of programmers.

After days of "trial-and-error" of discovering what parts could be used where, I finally came up with a working skeleton of what my beauty soon would become. Fueled by only three hours of slumber a night, coffee and cigarettes, I alternated between building my creation and writing the programming to control her. I gave her a solid metal frame, to encase the parts and joints, modeled after the female skeleton. She was jointed the same as a real woman, at the fingers, elbows, wrists, knees, and every other way a woman could bend.

For her eyes, I bought a rather expensive china doll and shattered it to get the beautiful blue eyes that they'd used on it. I modified the eyes to be able to "see" using infra-red technology. I used several battery packs for remote-controlled cars to power her, but I created a special system so that while one was being used, another was being charged at the same time so she would never run out of "fuel." My biggest expense was for the "skin" I used to flesh her out. It cost a small fortune for yards and yards of the soft latex that was used on most sex toys these days.

Called "CyberSkin," it was soft and pliable and felt as real as you could possibly get without having true skin. I developed a heating system that would warm the latex from beneath, and made her mouth and tongue and loins self-lubricating with tiny recycling pockets of warm water. I used implants for her breasts, and for her lips, sex, and ass, I used the sex toys modeled after the real pussies and mouths of talented porn stars. Her hair I made with a firmly attached wig, long blonde curls that reached down to the plump curves of her latex-covered thighs. Lying on my worktable, it truly was a work of art. I kissed her pliable mouth and proceeded to finish her programming.

I gave her the best sexual techniques, everything a man could ever want, and also I gave her the ability to learn, so that if there was something new desired she would learn it easily. I programmed her with the skills to masterfully use all sex toys and deviant devices, from whips to lubes to handcuffs. Her voice I created soft and pure. When all my programming was done, I implanted the chips of information in her head, and stood ready to run my first test. In a week, I had played God, and created woman…now I just had to bring her to life.

Taking a deep breath, I flipped the switch and waited quietly for my creation to rise. There was a quiet purr as the inner mechanisms roared to life inside her, and her closed eyelids opened, and she sat up. Her head turned and looked at me, and then her mouth opened in a sweet smile. "I am Diva," she said like I had programmed. "You are my master. What is your will?" Joy surged through me. I had done it! Riding high on the excitement and arrogance, there was only one more test I had to do and that was to try out her skills. "Diva," I commanded, "I want you to come here." She swung her legs over the side of the table, and got to her feet, walking over the floor to me. I marveled at how relatively soundless she was, just a few clicks and whirrs as she moved across the carpet to stand before me.

"Shall I undress you, master?" My beautiful robot asked, and I nodded. Her fingers stripped me of my garments, undid the button on my fly, and slipped the t-shirt over my head. When my boxers hit around my ankles, I was already semi-hard.

"Suck me," I commanded, and Diva dropped to her knees slowly. She encircled the shaft of my cock in her hand, and I felt the soft, wet lips engulf the head. The inner walls of her mouth were hot as she took me all the way down, until her lips pressed against the curls of my pubic hair. I had given her the skills of an oral sex master, and she used them as I had programmed, to tease and suck and tantalize me. Her head bobbed on my groin, her lips running up and down the veins of my cock, one warm hand rubbing the fleshy sacs of my balls and tracing the soft strip of skin leading from my balls to my anus. I twisted my fingers in her hair, fucking her perfect face, but I had to command her to stop.

Her extreme skills were driving me too close to the edge, and if her mouth was this delightful then I had to sample her other orifices.

"Diva," I panted, "I need you." She stood, and then smiled. Turning around, she bent at the waist, grabbing her ankles with her hands.

"You are my master," she purred. "You may take me as you wish." Bent before me, both her pink folds and the tight, puckered hole of her butt were exposed, both open for my choice. I guided my shaft to the tunnel of her ass, pushing inside. In real life, I had never had the fortune to experience the joys of anal sex. But now I was thrusting inside this tight hole, not only feeling the walls contract and loosen around me to heighten my pleasure but also feeling the latex-covered globes of her ass slapping against the front of my abdomen. I was groaning, and Diva was talking dirty, building my desire to a fever pitch. "Yeah," she chanted with each thrust.

"You're my master. Fuck me. Fuck me in my ass harder!" Her groans and purrs were straight out of a porn queen, and I grabbed her hips, slamming into her fast and hard.

"Jesus," I groaned, and she contracted tight against my cock, sucking me deep in the soft tunnel. The orgasm was explosive, pouring up from my balls through the iron-hard length of my shaft, the head of my member firing rope after rope of hot jism into her. I grunted and pushed deep, emptying my seed into this living sex doll, until I was completely spent and sated. When I pulled free of her, I sat down on the floor, my legs too weak to support me anymore.

My creation was a success.

Diva gave me a few moments to rest, then got to her hands and knees and crawled over to me. Her soft lips came up to kiss me, her rubber-covered tongue sweeping my mouth with the skill of a whore. With talents better than I had anticipated, she aroused me again, and this time she took control, pushing me back to the floor and squatting over me.

"Let me please you, master," she begged, and her hands guided the swollen knob to the entrance to her sex. I had made her to be a virgin the first time I took her, and as my shaft slid into her lubricated nether mouth, I felt the barrier inside her snap, which made me fully erect and ready to fuck. She rode me, and the soft sound of her pussy sliding up and down my shaft was a potent aphrodisiac. When Diva felt my climax was close, she wet one finger in her mouth, and then drilled the wet digit deep into my ass. Feeling her impaled upon me and impaling me sent me into the second most-intense orgasm I'd ever had. "Enough, Diva," I groaned. "Go clean yourself and shut down." She rose off my body and I heard the click of her gears as she went into self-cleaning mode, then she sat down in a corner of the room and turned herself off. Exhausted by the sudden abundance of sex in my life, I happily made my way to bed and slept.

For the remainder of my vacation, Diva and I experimented with every fantasy I'd ever had. She was programmed to perfectly mime anything I asked of her. I indulged in taking her once as a Catholic schoolgirl, and letting her dominate me as a beautiful dominatrix. She played the role of helpless victim as I "raped" her, and she used a strap-on to show me what the pleasures of being with a man would be like. Her ability to learn and accept new commands made her perfect.

She cleaned my home, and cooked my meals. And I had the most intense sex of my life, night after night; any way I wanted it without worry. It was perfect, ideal, and I couldn't wait to get back to work to tell everyone exactly what I'd done. The Monday following the end of my vacation, I returned to my desk a happy, sated programmer. And all of my co-workers were eager to find out my little secret. They ganged up on me in the break room, surrounding me like a pack of wolves while they waited for me to divulge my horny details. "So tell us, Bill," one guy commented, a grin on his face. "Who was she, and what did she do to you? You've been walking around this office fucking glowing all damn day."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I teased, acting as though I would head back to my desk without a single word more.

"The hell you don't," my good friend Matthew chimed in. "Spill it. She had to have been hot, or you wouldn't be so cheerful coming back from a two week vacation."

"Okay, okay…." I sighed with a smile. "Remember that night at the bar, when we were talking about making the perfect woman?" They nodded, looking at me expectantly. I couldn't contain my grin of pride as I admitted, "Well, I did it."

"Did what?" Matthew snorted. "Made it with that high-maintenance chick you were scoping out?"

"No. I really did it. I made the perfect woman, just like we were talking about. One who cooks and cleans and does everything under the sun, even things a real woman wouldn't." I waited on baited breath for the awe to fill their expressions, for the realization to dawn on them. Instead, they exchanged glances and burst into uncontrollable laughter. My pride-filled grin melted into a vengeful scowl as they clutched their sides in mirth, obviously finding my statement the best joke of the day. "Yeah, right," someone chuckled, slapping me on the back. "Good one, Bill."

"No, really, I'm not joking…." I growled, but most of them were already dispersing from around me, heading back for their desks. I caught Matthew's arm on the way past me. "Matthew, I'm not lying. I really did make her."

"There's no way," he protested. "Not in two weeks. No one could build anything close to that on the money we make, and even so, there wasn't enough time."

"Look, I know it's hard to believe." I sighed, running fingers through my hair. This was not the reaction that I had expected to get, especially from Matthew. "I tell you what, come by after work. You can see her, even try her out, for God's sake." Something in my eyes must have convinced Matthew at least that I believed my story. He nodded. "Okay. I'll follow you to your place after work."

When our shift was done, I drove home slowly, excitement building in my chest as I glanced in the rear-view mirror. Matthew's BMW crawled behind me at a snail's pace. Obviously he thought he was coming over to humor my whims. He was about to get the surprise of his life. We parked outside of my apartment complex, and then headed up the flight of stairs to my front door. Matthew's eyes got huge when I opened the door, and he saw Diva resting in her corner. "Did you build this?" He murmured, striding across the carpet. He circled my creation, gaping at her. "Wow, Bill, this is amazing. She almost looks….human."

"You haven't seen anything yet," I announced. "Diva, we have company."

At the sound of her name, Diva blinked to life, rising to her feet. "Welcome home, Master," she purred. I walked over and planted a soft kiss on her plastic mouth.

"Diva," I announced, "This is Matthew. Welcome him, won't you?" Matthew backed against the wall as Diva turned, her eyes locked on him. "Hello, Matthew," she said, and came over to press her body against his.

"Welcome to our home," Diva greeted. Then she planted a lusty kiss on Matthew, wrapping her arms about his neck. Matthew was shocked at first, his body rigid beneath hers. But the skills of Diva's kiss relaxed him, and he melted into her arms, enjoying the passions she showed him. When she backed off slightly, he gasped, looking from my satisfied face to her waiting body. "My god, Bill, you really did do it. I didn't think-I mean, how did you…."

"Don't worry about that," I laughed. "You haven't seen the best part yet. Instruct her to do anything you like. She'll obey your commands, even if she doesn't yet have them programmed."

"Uh….okay." Matthew shifted from foot to foot, excited and more than a little unsure of how to proceed. "Diva, I…uh….I'd like a beer, please."

"Certainly, Matthew," she beamed. Turning on her heels, she strode to my kitchen, bringing a cold beer and a bottle opener back to him. "Here is your beer."

"A beer?" I chided him. "I thought you had more imagination than that." After he took the beverage from Diva's hands, I smiled at him. "Watch. Diva, undress for our guest. Let him see your beautiful body." She reached her hands up slowly to do my bidding. Around the house, she wore only a black satin robe. Her mechanical fingers undid the ties, and she let the fabric drop to the carpet. I watched Matthew's eyes skim over her full breasts and down to the folds of her sex. She turned to give him the view of her buttocks.

"Diva, come show him what you're good at, darling. Come over here and take out my cock." Matthew's eyes widened as she followed my instructions, coming over and unzipping my fly, removing my organ from the depths of my khakis.

"How shall I take you, Master?" She asked silkily, awaiting my reply.

"Bend over and grab your ankles," I ordered. She did, and I gripped her fleshy hips, entering her with one great thrust. Matthew's eyes went glassy. He had yet to even open the beer, the bottle barely hanging in his limp fingers as he watched me withdrawal and then plunge in again. With Diva's pussy muscles working me, it was hard to talk, but I looked over at Matthew. "Want to give her mouth a try?"

"Sure," He rasped. It had been just as long for Matthew as it had been for me, before my Diva had relieved me of my sexual dry spell. He walked over, and Diva obliged him, raising up to undo his jeans. She pulled the denim and the soft fabric of his boxers around his knees, and looked up at him. "Mmmm, Matthew," she moaned before taking every inch of him down her throat. We fell into a natural rhythm, fucking Diva; I would thrust, pushing her mouth down on his shaft.

It was an erotic sight to watch her mouth around Matthew. I'm not gay, but Matthew was well endowed and watching her soft lips stretch around his thickness was like watching a well-hung porn star fucking his starlet companion. Matthew's fingers made fists in Diva's synthetic hair, her suckling obviously pleasuring him more than he'd ever been. His eyes were closed, his mouth slack with the passion he was feeling. The only sounds in the room were the soft squish of our cocks plunging into Diva, and the moans that were pulled from our throats as she did her magic. Suddenly Matthew's eyes flew open, and he gripped Diva's head tightly between his palms. "I'm going to cum," he panted, "but I don't want to shoot in her mouth. Can I do it anywhere?"

"Anywhere," I groaned. The ecstasy in his eyes was driving me closer to my own impending explosion. "Do it, do it, Mathew."

"I'm going to cum on this fucking slut's face," He panted, obviously driven out of his mind by pleasure. Matthew never would have talked like that to a woman, but with Diva he was living out his fantasies as only she could let him. He pulled his shaft free of her mouth, fingers working up and down the skin furiously. Diva encouraged him with little coos and erotic words, and I watched him grow impossibly tight, the head of his cock so swollen I swore it'd split. His whole body went tense, and he cried out once. Erupting with his orgasm, Matthew sobbed again and again as strand after strand of white pearly fluids splattered on Diva's cheek, nose and lips. He fell to his knees on the carpet, sated, watching while I grunted and filled her latex pussy with my own jism.

"Diva, go clean yourself, then make us some dinner," I ordered. She whirred away to do my bidding, leaving Matthew and I to button ourselves up again and collect our thoughts. Later, over our meal and beers, Matthew told me what a miracle I'd created. "But you shouldn't tell the others," He rasped, watching as Diva made her way around the kitchen, cleaning up. "Let's keep it between us. We should save up, manufacture these babies when we have enough start-up capital. It's going to be the wave of the future." We talked business, then Matthew and I shared Diva one more time before he left. I felt like the happiest man on the face of the Earth.

The next day at work, I was surprised by a visit from the boss at lunch. He dropped by my desk, a woman in tow on his heels. "Bill," he announced, "This is Lola. She's going to be working with our company, and since you've been here the longest, I want you to show her the ropes around here."

"Okay," I accepted. My portly boss waddled away from the desk, relieved from the burden of the young trainee, and the woman pulled up a chair from a nearby desk to sit beside me. "Hi," she said with a friendly smile. "I'm Lola." I took a good look at her as she offered her hand for me to shake. She was small, what people called 'petite'. In heels, she must have stood only around 5'4." She was incredibly appealing. Must be an Italian, I noted, looking at her smooth olive-shaded skin and her thick mane of black hair. Her bottom lip was full and plump, and I couldn't take my eyes off the way she bit it lightly when she smiled shyly. I couldn't tell much of her figure beneath the plain suit she wore, but behind her glasses her brown eyes sparkled happily. I shook her hand and watched her fuss in the depths of the black leather purse she carried. She fished out a small notebook and a pen, and waited for my instruction. "I'm new at this," she confessed. "I just got out of college a week ago, and your boss recruited me from the graduating class. So I'm hoping you might show me the ropes, how all this works in the 'real world', per se?"