I gave a nod, barely noticeable.
“Good.” She stood up abruptly, strolling over to the door before demonstratively holding it open. “Because, in case you missed the cue, this is your final warning, Morgan.”
I had in fact gotten the cue.
“Now…” Arya gestured to the floor. To my relief, most people weren’t looking our way – except for Joey, of course. “…for the sake of the upcoming quarterly report, please proceed to the job you’re paid to do.”
Chapter 9.
I paced around the living room, alternating between picking my skin and plucking my fleece sweater.
Zafyra was watching me like a hawk, her body draped out over the couch like she belonged here. I didn’t have to look at her to feel her gaze burn through the soft material of my clothes.
The smart AR technology allowed her to map objects in my apartment and anchor to them, making it seem like she was really here – though it didn’t work the other way. She could not touch or move objects in my world.
I spun around, sucking in a deep breath.
“This isn’t right,” I said.
Rolling her eyes, Zafyra sat up slightly. The creamy silk blouse – oversized, probably on purpose – slid off her shoulder even further, exposing more of the curve of her breast. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look away.
“Really, Morgan?” Her eyes flickered with annoyance and something darker. “Because your entitled co-worker uses his AI companion the way men like him use women, you want to throw away what we have?”
“What we have?” I scoffed, mentally cursing my eyes for how they kept drifting to her chest like a starving creature. “What do we have, Zafyra?Wehave nothing. You—you aren’t even really here.” The words sounded like betrayal, and her face reflected just that. “You can’t even consent to anything because you’re programmed to want what I want, and I…” I swallowed as I lowered my head to hide the emotions that threatened to spill over for the second time today. “I probably need a whole lot more therapy before ever trying to date anyone real,” I mumbled, barely audible.
“How dare you presume what I do and don’t feel?” She stood abruptly, a bit too fast to look believably human. “You, who can’t even commit to a flesh and blood human?”
For a moment, I froze. She raised her eyebrows provocatively, as if expecting – hoping – for me to lash out.
Instead, I laughed softly. “You know what, I’m not mad about that burn. I deserved that.”
Zafyra narrowed her eyes, sending a twisted surge of excitement through me. “You want me to show you real, Morgan?” Her voicelowered as she stepped toward me. “You want me to bring you to your knees with just my voice?”
I involuntarily stepped back.
Neither of us had brought up VR again. As strange as it sounded, she seemed to feel guilty for how the tech overstimulated me, resulting in my emotional breakdown. I, in turn, didn’t want to deny her the opportunity to have a body, so AR was the compromise. But now, feeling how my body responded to her, I regretted it.
It had taken me years to listen to my body. When other girls in college raved about the sex with their boyfriends, I thought I was supposed to feel the same. And so, I kept trying, with guys who felt like ‘maybe’ more than a ‘yes’. Often, it wasn’t until well into the act that my body revealed its ‘maybe’ was actually a ‘no’. More than once, I’d run off in the midst of a sexual encounter. Most guys reacted with confusion, some got offended or angry. Occasionally, it led into a fight.
And somehow, this phantom presence of a woman was out here in my apartment, the see-through silk hugging her generous curves just right, her full lips slightly parted, dark flames in her midnight eyes – and suddenly, my body remembered what ‘yes’ felt like. Arousal really wasn’t hard to read – I just hadn’t been paying attention. Really wanting someone was so much more than just slick down there. It tingled in my veins, pulsed in my jaw, watered my eyes. Ache burned inside me like never before, and I wanted to pray to whoever was in charge to please, either make her real or make me virtual, just so she could put her hands on me in the way my body begged for.
But it should be her choice, not her programming.
“No. You’re just acting dominant because that’s one of the traits I chose for you.” I shook my head, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself – like I had learned in therapy. Suddenly, therapy seemed like such a silly, trivial thing when faced with the rage of an artificial goddess. “How about this. What is a hard no for you? Something you would do under no circumstances?”
Zafyra went silent. Put her finger to her chin as if thinking it through.
“I’m not big on extreme pain,” she said finally. “A little spanking, a little choking – all good. But I won’t hit you to the point of bleeding.”
“Oh.” I frowned, as if her words disappointed me. “That’s unfortunate, because that’s always been a fantasy of mine.”
“Really?” Her eyebrows shot up.
I nodded. “Yes. I want to see the marks of your violent love all over my body. I want you to fuck me so hard, I can’t walk without feeling the ghost of your fingers the next day.”
I held my breath, intently watching her reaction. She glitched briefly – bright stripes of white and cyan blue blinding my eyes before she returned to herself, as if nothing had happened.
“Well, in that case…” A slow smirk spread over her face as she stepped closer. “I wasn’t sure if you could handle it,” she whispered. “But should I tell you what I’d do if I had you alone in a dark room, surrounded by whips and metal belts?”
