Boyfriend 2.0

Chapter 1: Boyfriend 2.0

*Inspired by a real fantasy.*

Every girl wishes she could edit her boyfriend.

Trust me when I say there isn't a single one of us who hasn't wanted to just open up his head and make a few small adjustments. Remember the trash on Tuesdays. Put down the toilet seat when you're done. Clean out the lint filter like a civilized human being.

And sometimes, yes, I'll admit it. The changes I'd make might be a little more...significant.

I love Josh. He's the light of my life, beautiful soul, funny and handsome and dorky in just the right way.

But the sex? Yeah. It could be better.

"Just like that, baby. Take me. Fucking take me. Take me harder, baby." I'm flat on my back, legs wrapped around his waist, staring him in the eyes, begging him with every fiber of my body to let loose and fuck me like there was no tomorrow.

And he's staring back with eyes like twin pools of melted chocolate, soft and loving and...utterly incapable of even thinking about hurting me. His thrusting is slow and gentle, the stuff of romantic fantasies. An aftermath of a candlelit dinner. His fingers are busy tracing my cheek instead of wrapping around my throat.

"Harder," I try to tell him. My hips are bucking up against him at a feverish pace, trying for all they're worth to get him to up the tempo. "Please, harder? Harder?"

Josh tries. I'll give him that. He tries his best to give me what I want. But that's the problem at the root of all of this. He's a giver, not a taker. Even though I don't want him to give me what I want. I want him to take what he wants, but he's just not that sort of guy.

I don't even think I'm that kinky. I just like a little spice in the bedroom. Some choking, some spanking, maybe even some light slapping and name-calling. That doesn't sound unreasonable to me. Half my girlfriends are into that, and the other half are all about the whips and hot wax and all that other stuff. I'm downright vanilla in comparison.

Unfortunately, Josh is the rare modern gentleman. He'll hold the door, pull out the chair, all the jazz. Now that's a man who was raised properly, and any woman would be lucky to find a guy like him. The past few years with him felt like I was winning the lottery every single day.

Unfortunately, all that just highlighted the one drawback to having such an incredible boyfriend.

I was so close. All I needed was a little more. Something to tip me over the edge. "Please, Josh? Please? Just fuck me. Fucking use me..."

And then...he stops. "Look, Kaitlyn-"

My mewl is one of rage and frustration. I try to push myself further on him, but he doesn't rise to the bait. "Come on, it's okay, I want this!"

"I'm just not comfortable with this, okay?" He withdraws entirely, leaving me worse than unsatisfied. "I don't think it's healthy for you to want me to hurt you, and I don't want to treat you like that."

"I'm asking you to!"

"What's wrong with normal sex?"

And just like that, I'm out of the mood. He's right. I don't want to push him. But he's never going to understand. "Whatever. Can we talk about something else?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Weren't we going to watch that new sci fi thing you were talking about? Let's do that." Something mindless so I could go back to my fantasies.

He looks a little crestfallen, but not unhappy. He's been talking about this show for almost a year now. "Okay...sure. Do you want to order something to eat?"

I cuddle up next to him, ignoring the ache between my legs. "Sure, whatever you want." I'm not hungry. I'm horny, and God I just want to cum so fucking badly. I want him to slam me against the wall and force my legs apart and take me hard enough to make me feel it when I -

"No, you pick," he says with a gentle smile. "Whatever you want."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is when I decided that I was going to edit my darling boyfriend.

~~

"Testing, testing. Checking this thing is on - okay, it's on. We're all good. This is Kaitlyn Roberts, commencing stage 1 of the Boyfriend 2.0 project."

A big part of why I really need to blow off steam is because of how intensely I've been working on my PhD project. I was spending ten hours a day on research, experimentation, writing grant letters, all to fund a project that might or might not change the world. Cobbling together prototypes, emailing experts in the field, experimenting with theory, just to even have a chance at making this thing worked.

And I was pretty sure it would work. But theory alone can only take you so far, and without human testing, I'd never know for sure.

"So the changes I'm going to make are going to be pretty subtle at first." I watch myself in the recording program. A slightly anxious, exceedingly sexually frustrated brunette in her mid-twenties. Too much time behind the computer screen has almost wiped my tan out completely. Christ, I look pasty on camera. I almost wished I'd put on makeup for this, just to look a little less washed out in the footage, but I discarded the idea out of hand. It wasn't like anyone else was ever going to see this video. This is just for me.

"I'm going to try to target his centers of aggression, but only those linked to sexual desire. That way he'll be more dominant in bed without being affected in daily life. And these are all subconscious impulses, so he probably won't be able to notice the differences as long as they're subtle." I can't believe I'm doing this. But I can't deny that I'm also

incredibly

turned on right now. "I'm also going to try to stimulate some of his glands to increase his baseline testosterone and adrenaline levels. This part's the trickiest, so I have no idea if it'll actually work. But it's also the only thing I can...quantifiably measure, so it'll be interesting to take a look at."

I lift a pair of wireless headphones, the culmination of months of work, into frame. "The subliminal programming will be delivered aurally, through sonic patterns that should interact with his brainwaves. For maximum effectiveness, patterns should be delivered while the subject is unconscious, so I'm going to put these on him after he's asleep. It shouldn't really sound like anything other than white noise, and...he's a pretty deep sleeper, so I'm optimistic about this method. It should give a full six hours of reprogramming a night, so I'll expect to see results within the next few weeks. Hopefully I'll be able to tell if this made any changes by then."

I click the button to end recording. Very excited, a little guilty, and completely unaware of just how many things were about to change for the both of us.

~~

It turns out I didn't need to wait weeks, or even the full week. After three days of programming, the differences were...noticeable.

"Fuck, baby, fuck, just like that!" I can barely get the words out through his fingers wrapped around my windpipe. He's different tonight. All during dinner, Josh was the perfect gentleman. The lovey-dovey boyfriend that I've come to adore. But the moment he'd pushed me back on the bed, he'd completely transformed.

"Harder? You want it harder?" He's almost groaning from the exertion of how hard he's railing me, but I can still hear the love in his voice. He still wants to make me happy. He's just a little more confident about how to do it.

"Yes, pleeeease...oh, fuck!" And just like that he's deeper in me than he's ever been before. Deeper than I've ever had

anything

before. I probably shouldn't like it as much as I do but I can't help it. I'm arching off the bed, legs wrapping around him. Urging him on. Encouraging him to claim every single inch of me that he can.

"I love it when you say please," he says, and I fucking melt in his arms. I look up at him, wide-eyed and breathless as he ravages me the way I'd always imagined he would. Whispering his name until he coaxes me into becoming louder and louder, until I'm screaming it, climax raking the syllables from my throat until my voice turns hoarse.

"You can take it," he tells me. "Right? You love taking it. This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

It is, and I revel in that long-awaited avalanche of sensation. Feeling him stretch me open, making me his. His woman, his plaything. All his. He holds me tight, crushing me against him in that way I love, and all I can think about is that I'm the luckiest woman in the world.

I really did it. I edited my boyfriend, and now he's perfect. I could stop right now and we could live happily ever after. Honestly.

Or I could push him a little farther.

He's still a little coy about name calling. And the rougher stuff, the slapping and spanking, I can tell he shies away from it. It's not like there's zero room for improvement. I could take him a little farther. He could take a little more. After all, this was only three days of conditioning. Let's just see what a full week can do.

What could go wrong?