talker_moaner_screamer_
"An inexorable law: only that that is absent can be imagined." -Proust
Black socks littered the closet floor where she was kept when she was kept in the closet. More often she would be left lying on the bed with her arms prone, legs posed out slightly. He would come home from work most days and find her lying in his bed and be unable to do anything with- out first using her. She was two years old. Like with any female simulator, the moment he bought her, she was almost obsolete. The mouth action and software on the newer versions were next-generation developments for the industry. While he had paid over 15,000 dollars for her, today she would sell for just 2,000 new. She would only sell because she was a Talker/Moaner/Screamer. He bought the "Real Human "voice upgrade, so she would sound just like the salesperson he bought her from. She could say over 600 words, but he had only used one so far: "Yes."
As always, the moment he saw her in his bed, he drew in and turned her voice on. As programmed, the simulator spoke a meek, un-emphasized "Yes, "repeated at intervals of two and a half seconds. Her shoulders rotated slightly, while her pelvis moved subtly up and down. He watched for thirty seconds or so and then climbed on top of her and switched on all of her physical movements. He set her shoulder and then locked her pelvis at an exact angle. He left her mouth function on. Her voice continued, "Yes." Then it was done. He had never lasted long. Sometimes he would count how many Yeses he would last, but it was never many.
Finished, he immediately turned off the voice and collapsed on top of her, praying he’d fall asleep. If he didn’t within a minute, he would become agitated and leap to his feet, dripping himself everywhere. He’d stare at the dirty pile of fake flesh for a few seconds. Then he would grab it and put it in the closet, vowing to never use it again. Sometimes he wanted to scream at her, but he was so weakened by her streamlined shine that he could only manage to punish her with a hasty toss in the closet’s corner that would knock a human out of consciousness. Then she was back in bed in time for his night’s sleep.
This went on daily as he saved for a new female simulator. He decided he wanted two at the same time and collected money diligently, amassing 3,000 dollars in a relatively short period of time. It was enough for a down payment. But paying on installment was a taboo he had inherited from his father. "Don’t drive it unless you own it."
As his savings grew, his post-coital guilt became increasingly peppered by fantasies of what he could do with all that money. He could have real girls, he reminded himself. But still he ended his nights with her in his bed, talking himself into sleep by counting his saved money.
He came home from work one day and found a letter from the IRS informing him that he owed 1,000 dollars that would begin to accumulate interest if he didn’t pay immediately. A former employer had updated his books and now the IRS was demanding its share. He walked up the steps to his apartment, wanting to kill that old fucker. Then he wanted to cry. He picked her up and tossed her into the closet. A brutal thud announced the breaking of plastic or metal. He felt slightly vindicated and shut the door. He crashed himself into his bed and tossed and turned, hating himself and imagining beating his ex-Boss. An hour later, he opened the closet. She had never looked so inhuman. Wrapped inside of herself with an appendage pointing each way, she seemed defeated. He picked her up by the hands and dragged her to the bed. He laid her prone and turned her voice on. It didn’t work.
His breathing tightened and sped up —he was hyperventilating. He stood up and shook, arms flailing out of control. He fell to the floor of the closet. His heart rate slowed beneath his pressed hand. He held his heart and that made him feel normal.
He wished he could sleep but he couldn’t. Eventually he got back up and walked over to her.
He wanted to cry, so he closed his eyes tight and visualized himself covered with tears. But his tears wouldn’t fall, so he just kicked her slightly and then lied down next to her again. Eventually, he dozed off for a few minutes until he woke with a start, grabbed Windex and paper towels, and began to clean her.
The night lasted forever. He turned his TV on and off, got in and out of bed, and at times ministered to his simulator with real regret and compassion. When morning finally came, he had slept minutes. With the store about to open at last, he packed her up in her box and gathered the receipt and the nearly expired warranty. The warranty had a few stains, but only he would know that they were from his semen. Just in case, he dabbed at them with a wet paper.
Then he drove the box, the papers, and himself to the mini-mall where he purchased his simulator. The lot was empty except for one car.
Looking inside the store, he saw the woman who had sold him his simulator so long ago. He had hoped she would be there but now felt unable to deal with facing her. This was the woman who’s recorded "Yes "was the single most erotic word he’d ever heard. And if she remembered him liked he hoped, she would know the sick things he had involved her voice in for two years.
Sinking into his car seat, he stared at her. Her hair was different and her style in general had changed with the times. Same walk, he thought.
He wanted to exchange the busted merchandise, just like every customer deserved. But his anticipation was marred by the guilt of breaking the simulator and his plan to lie about it. He just stared inside and reread the warranty.
Finally, he watched the woman walk into the back of the store and decided he should act. He took the box awkwardly out of his car, entered the shop, and set it on the counter. There was no one to help him and no other customers in the store. The huge box took up the whole glass case of the counter. Before he could silently practice what he would say again, the saleswoman walked in.
"Shit!" she screamed.
He jumped back.
"Shit. You scared me. Did you just walk in?"
"Um, yeah. I did." She took her head in her hands and breathed deeply. Stepping up to the counter, she leaned against it.
"I’m really sorry. You just scared me."
"Oh it’s ok. I just walked in. I’m sorry."
She looked at the old box and started to place his face. "Oh I know you. You bought this here." Her attitude had changed but her voice hadn’t. "What can I help you with?"
His practiced speech came out perfectly, "Yeah. My simulator’s voice and movement functions won’t work. It’s still under warranty."
"Oh, OK. That’s fine. It will just take a few days," she said. He was slightly stunned by the idea of being without.
"But she’s kinda old. Aren’t you interested in a new one?"
He looked up. "I am. I definitely am. Very soon. But not now." He couldn’t believe that she was about to speak again.
"Oh, OK. Well you can leave this here. Would you like me to show you some new models while you’re here?"
"Sure," he mumbled.
He followed her lead and stepped into the showroom. As she talked, he studied her body like a coroner, absorbing her voice until it became white noise. The new models were amazing. In addition to new and improved mouths that had been confused with real female mouths in laboratory tests, they all had Intuition installed.
Intuition software allowed the simulator to learn what movements and words its user preferred. Informed by human emotional patterns, they acted on the data. Since he had bought his model, three versions of the Intuition software had come and gone. Version 3.0 was a blockbuster. Simulator sales tripled and the industry had its first billionaires.
He nodded and crookedly moved his eyes to avoid real contact as she spoke. Her words were a routine sales pitch and she finished quickly.
"I can’t wait to get a new one," he said.
"You don’t have to, OK. You can finance."
He shook his head and tried to smile with pride. "Nope, not yet."
"OK, well here’s what I can do. I can add Intuition 2.0 to your current one for $100." It was a typically amazing deal on outdated software. "OK. Then you can buy the upgrade for less than a thousand dollars whenever you want to move to 3.0."
He stammered, shifting his weight. "Sure."
"Great!" She quickly conducted the transaction and he was out the door.
He climbed into his car in the parking lot and became furious. He kicked the dashboard and slammed his fist into the steering wheel. He didn’t want Intuition at all. Visualizing the 100 dollars added to the 1000 he already owed, he wanted to go back in but couldn’t muster the courage. A long guttural scream as he drove home. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!"
That night he sat in his car in front of an adult bookstore, deciding whether to go in. He had tried to find something on the Internet but he couldn’t stand being home. He watched a video in a booth for about five minutes, then drove home.
He went back to the bookstore the next night. When he left, he decided that he would never do it again and he felt certain. All the men in the bookstore disturbed him. They stared and commented with their facial expressions. He hated them and imagined great violence if any one of them ever approached him.
The next morning, he was sleeping when he heard her voice on the answering machine. "You can pick up your simulator whenever you like. OK?" He erased the message, dressed, and was outside staring at her through the window in no time. She saw him parked in the lot and waved as if it was normal that he hadn’t gotten out of his car for ten minutes.
He walked in and tried to be quick and say little. She obliged and finished by handing him her card and saying, "As soon as you are ready for a new one, let me know. OK?"
He smiled; he would.
Back home, he spilled the contents of the box onto the bed.
Then he felt her body everywhere just to make sure she was the same. She was, except for a sticker on her stomach that said "Intuition Inside."
When he turned her on, instead of just opening her eyes as she usually did, she shook her head as if she was waking up, and then sat silent. Within minutes, she was ready to go. He listened to her say "Yes "for a few minutes, and then undressed. He finished in less than a minute. The "Yes "stopped a few seconds after he was done. He fell asleep with her in his arms, processor still running. In the morning, he awoke and became angry when he realized that she was still on and her voice wasn’t going. He hadn’t turned the voice off. He looked her in the eye and she said," Yes." He turned her off.
That night, he came home from work and resumed his routine. Weeks went by. He was saving again and everything was fine except she was doing new things. She smiled; she moved her arms while he was on top of her. It was definitely because of the new software. He didn’t like it and spent hours trying to disable it. He couldn’t figure out how. The company’s web site recommended that he take her back to the service center for disabling. He couldn’t’t face the sales girl again, especially not to tell her that her great deal wasn’t so great.
He went into his bedroom and stared at her lying in his bed.
Her eyes were on screen saver. He wished that he didn’t want it.
One night, he held her arms down hoping she would learn. She adjusted, her body moved more. He pressed her harder with his body and she turned her neck as she repeated the one word, "Yes." He began to lose his erection. Finally, he just turned her off and quickly finished.
He lied still, changed by his orgasm. He decided to turn her back on and experiment with the new features. Without exception, she would resist when restrained and adjust to his body all the while saying "Yes." She had a response for every action he made. He felt powerless to control her. With sudden force, he slapped her. She lied still and then slightly writhed with a sensual, different "Yes."
He turned her off and put her back in the closet.
As he slept a few hours later, he had a dream that he accidentally turned her on. In the room’s darkness, she adjusted herself until she was on top of him. He was erect and she slid him inside of her. She said "Yes "louder with each maneuver on top of him. She was having an orgasm.
He woke up and sat in bed. After a minute he turned the light on and stepped into the closet. She was on and a flash of light made it seem as if she were staring at him. He pushed her into the corner. Instead of collapsing, she resisted. She raised her hand and slapped his face. The blow dropped him to the floor.
The momentum forced her to the ground landing directly on top of him. As she lay on top of him she repeated, "Yes "directly into his mouth over and over.