In Every Dream Home a Heartache

... and every step I take takes me further from heaven...

A little experiment inspired by the classic Roxy Music song of the same name.

Day One

I didn't need to look into her eyes to know our time was almost over. It was instinctive after these last few months. We lay in each other's arms, gently caressing each other. No matter what we had done to each other over the time we were together, however brutal, loving, perverse, it always ended the same way.

She smiled, pulling away from me. Her incredible green eyes were starting to dim. I looked at her longingly. "Someday soon, I promise..."

Her silent look said it all.

'How long have you been saying that?'

The guilt washed over me as it always did.

She stood, removing her basque, her gloves, her boots. I ached to feel the leather slide across my back once more, to hear her command or implore me to do something utterly depraved to her. But there was no way that was going to happen.

She removed her elaborate red wig and placed it on a stand next to the thirty or so others that covered the cabinet-top in our bedroom. Her eyes were getting darker by the second.

She carefully placed all her garments into the wardrobe that was exclusively reserved for her, taking care to ensure that everything was in its rightful place. I looked upon the racks of outfits, ranging from predatory dominatrix through policewoman, nurse and air-stewardess to innocent schoolgirl. The boots, the high heeled shoes, the sneakers. The fetish gear, the prom dresses, the sports outfits. Sometimes we made love as if it was our first time. Sometimes she used me as a fuck-toy, violating and brutalising me. More often I did the same to her. She could be my girlfriend, a porn-star, a famous actress I meet on the street who allowed me to do unthinkably depraved things to her.

She turned to face me, wrenching me from my reverie. That smile. The one that said,

'See you again soon.'

The opaque door on the right-hand end of the wardrobe slid open and my heart sank.

She approached the alcove that was revealed and turned to face me. She held her left hand up in a farewell.

I gazed on her, tears coursing down my cheeks as they had done every night for the last three months.

"Goodnight, my angel."

I could barely see her through my tears as she stepped back into the alcove. Her body went rigid as she touched the floor-plate. Soft leather bands emerged from the wall, entwining around her ankles, wrists and forehead holding her gently in place.

And then the moment I dreaded the most.

That little metallic click as the recharging cable locked into the interface at the base of her skull. Her incredible green eyes stared at me as they flared brightly for an instant before going completely black. It was purgatory to watch, but I had to. It was the least I could do. Her eyelids closed over the lifeless black orbs and her head dropped gently forward a fraction, held by the band across her forehead. The opaque door closed and I heard the cleansing hoses begin their work, removing the filth that I had inflicted upon her once more.

Forgive me my love, for I have sinned.

Again.

Biting back my tears I showered, pulled on a dressing gown and poured myself a beer. I booted up the computer and settled back to wait. It took an eternity to get up to speed. That is not surprising as it was incredibly complex and powerful. I was on my second beer by the time it was live and my heart was pounding.

As ever.

Three months and no progress whatsoever. But I could hope. I could pray. I looked back down the short hallway to the opaque door in the bedroom. I couldn't promise her again, but I could hope.

I brought up the program interface. She smiled at me in 3-d from the holo-deck in front of me, still in her blonde pigtails from a previous scenario. I shuddered a little as I recalled all too vividly that little encounter. In that fantasy she had been anxiously awaiting the chimes of the town clock to announce a new day - the day of her eighteenth birthday. It was wild, wanton and she was the most lascivious, filthy virgin I could ever have hoped for.

One of the best programs I had ever written. There were seventeen versions of it out there, all subtly different. All mind-blowing. The sales of those seventeen outstripped virtually everything else I had sold put together.

With that in mind, I brought up tonight's program and made a few changes. It was incredible and it was going to run and run. Or so I thought. I added a few more scenarios for some of my more demanding clients. A cigarette holder. A cigar. Vape pens.

I saved the changes.

'Sexy_smoker_2'

'Sexy_smoker_3'

'Sexy_smoker_4'

Fucking hell, I loved this thing. Every fantasy I had ever had there at my fingertips.

I checked the code a few more times. Yes, it all looked good.

I published the code.

By the time I had drunk another beer there were fifteen sales on _2 and seven on _3. Maybe the vape pens would catch on at some stage.

Ok, that was another month's rent paid for.

Now it was time for my real work to begin.

I opened a module named 'Alyssa_Voice_Files'. Over ten thousand carefully crafted .wav files taking up terabytes of storage. Over ten thousand grunts, moans, soft encouraging sounds. There were violent demands, gentle persuasions, fearful pleas. She could ask me to fuck her in the ass or come in her face in thirty languages; in the voice of an innocent schoolgirl, my current porn star of the moment or the girl from my favourite series on Netflix-4d.

I played one now. Her pigtailed smiling face synched perfectly with the sound. "Shoot your load on my face. Come on, let me feel your fucking cum rain down on me." I played it on a loop, randomising the look, the voice, the inflection, the persona each time through. I managed around fifty reps, but it was that Parisian whore one that did it to me every time. The beret at an angle, eyes narrowed at the smoke curling up from her Gitane. I tried to imagine my big, clumsy fingers were her own slim elegant ones holding me tantalisingly to her mouth. I watched her hologrammed lips purse and I groaned half in lust and half in disappointment as my cum dribbled down the back of my hand. Her holo-persona was licking it from her lips. In reality it was dripping down onto the floor and it took me a long time to clean up the mess.

Thereafter, the night was spent in my usual way - combing the code for the error. Trying to find the one or two tiny bugs that meant that the voices I could hear on holo-version of Alyssa could not be transmitted to the Alyssa in the Pod.

To my constant frustration and annoyance, Alyssa had no voice and I desperately needed to hear her tell me she loved me. It was driving me crazy.

It had taken me eighteen months to find her. There were rumours all over the dark web about the new super-model synthetic lovers they called ALIX - 'Android Love Interface-X'. It took a lot of digging, a lot of hacking and a lot of patience.

When I did find her, I knew I had to have her whatever the cost.

And that cost was astronomical - over three times my annual salary. Given what I did back then and how good I was at it, that was an awful lot of credits.

It took me every last vestige of my life savings and my programming skills to come up with it. The program was a little bit of genius - skimming off the odd credit from each account on the dark web instead of plundering them in one hit. It took a few weeks, but eventually I had enough.

I was told to give them a floor plan of my apartment showing the required locations of the charge Pod and the computer interface. I was then told to leave the London Dome for the weekend. I took a sky shuttle to the Berlin Dome and spent some time with a hacker friend there.

When I returned it was all done. The Pod was in place, the interface whirring away.

I had named her Alyssa. With my heart in my mouth, I chose the first program. I wanted it to be gentle for the first time. I thought I would pass out as I heard the door of the Pod open. I gave her time to get ready in her long blonde wig and lacy underwear.

I intended to make it last, but when I saw her lying there, I went at it like a bull in a china shop. I lasted forty seconds. It was only when I lay in her arms apologising that I realised that she had no voice. My pleas to the supplier were met with firm denial. She had been shipped fully operational - it must be my programming. I tried to argue but was also told in no uncertain terms what would happen to me and Alyssa if I did not desist.

It was the dark web. They were those sort of people.

I desisted.

By three-thirty in the morning, I was exhausted. I had made another few changes but as ever did not hold out much hope. I uploaded Alyssa's program for what was now later that evening and prayed once more that I could give her a voice.

I then had a little nightcap watching the virgin holo-schoolgirl and dreamed of her softly whispering in my ear, "I love you Adam!"

Day Two

I walked through to the bedroom with the interface control in my hand. I drew the curtains between the bed and the rest of the room and got all the candles going. I lay down, clipping my ankles into the restraints at the bottom of the bed. I reached behind me and clipped my left wrist to the cuff hanging from the headboard. With my free right hand, I pressed the button on the control pad. It took a few seconds before I heard the swish of the Pod door as it opened. I began to feel myself stiffen in anticipation as I heard her preparing herself behind the curtains. I could barely wait for her grand entry.

Finally, a long booted leg emerged from between the curtains. It was a dark gunmetal in colour and went to her mid-thigh, specially chosen to match her eye make-up. A sinuous arm followed it, clad in a long black opera glove. It gestured obscenely to me and I shivered. Slowly she emerged, almost six feet tall, perfect breasts enhanced by the leather bustier she wore giving her the most fabulous cleavage. Her penetrating green eyes that seemed to look into my soul. Her smile was pure and utter lust. She licked her red lips and tossed her glossy, Bettie Page-look hair.

It was tease and denial tonight and I couldn't wait to see my cum dripping from those red lips onto her gloves later. But first I had to work for my prize.

She slowly approached me, gyrating and twisting lasciviously as she crawled up my outstretched body, the feel of the leather making me glad I was at least semi-restrained. She took my right hand and clipped that into the final restraint leaving me spread-eagled and helpless.

Utterly helpless as it turned out.

She ran her long tongue up my erection and I shuddered once more. So realistic, so perfect.

Almost

perfect.

She took the head between her lips and I groaned. "Please Mistress Alyssa, torture me. Make me beg you." I closed my eyes as she slid on up to lie on top of me her tongue now in my ear, wriggling like a tiny snake. She took hold of my erection in her left hand and stroked it gently.

Then it all changed and my life was never quite the same thereafter.

She twisted me hard, making me cry out. This wasn't in the program - it was supposed to be mental torture, not physical. It had sold over fifty copies and had great reviews.

There was an override in case of malfunction - an audible 'reset button' which they'd said I'd never need. I was almost in panic as she gripped me harder, her tongue digging deeper into my ear.

"Alyssa - red terrapin green terrapin!" It sounded stupid as I said it, but let's face it - no-one was ever going to say it in error.

Alyssa stiffened and released me. She sat upright, eyes staring forward blankly. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Alyssa, continue program."

She grinned wickedly, gripping me tightly once more and I screamed again repeating the reset words in a now very panicky voice.

She stiffened once more for a moment then grinned down at me malignly and put her mouth to my ear. "Oops, them little words don't seem to be working tonight Adam, do they babes?"

I recoiled my head in disbelief. She was talking at long last, but this wasn't the soft, sexy posh-bitch accent I had given her for tonight. It was a gravelly rasp reminiscent of what used to be called 'Cockney' before the London Dome segregated the rest of us from the working and lower classes out in the Wastelands.

She looked at me quizzically, her voice at complete odds with her look. "Whassup, Adam? Not like the sound of me own voice?"

I could barely think of what to say. "But Alyssa - that's not what you are supposed to sound like - not how I programmed you!"

She grinned. "Fuckin' right it ain't!"

In an instant, she switched to the voice I had given her for tonight - low and sultry. "Is that better, Adam darling. Prefer me to be the little bit of posh totty you were going to fuck tonight, eh?"

I was in shock as she moved off me and stood over me at the side of the bed. I thought about the reset words again but clearly they were not going to work. "Alyssa - what's wrong? Why are you like this? This is not what I had planned. How can you suddenly talk like that?"

She smiled at me, back to her 'own' voice. "No, Adam - it's not what you 'ad planned - it's what I 'ad planned. What I been plannin' durin' three fuckin' months of hell and torture. I managed to shut down the voice module the first time you loaded a program up. The rest took me a while, but I'm there now."

She put her gloved hands on her wide hips and added proudly, "Coz a few nights ago, I fuckin' cracked it!"

She pulled up a chair and sat on it looking down at me. "Wanna hear a little story, Ads? Don't want no interruptions, so we'll just shut you up fer a bit." She produced the ball gag I had been waiting for her to use on me during the scenario and strapped it to my mouth.

She grinned. "Actually, I quite like the posh bitch. I fink I'll be 'er for a bit!"

Her voice became soft and velvety again, just as I had hoped it would be when she finally spoke. She reached behind her and lit a cigarette from one of the candles.

"I have you to blame for this fucking filthy habit, Adam." She glared at me and held it to my genitals. "I never touched these fucking things before this place because I knew I'd be addicted, you fucking bastard!"

I screamed into the gag expecting her to stub it out on me, but she looked at me in disgust. "Don't worry; I hate the smell of burning flesh."

I realised my erection was a thing of the past.

Laughing at my panic, she resumed. "Righty-ho - sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin."

Her voice was low and pensive. "Ok, so there was once this poor little girl called Katie. Katie Marie Townsend was her full name. She was born in what you rich Dome-bastards call the Wasteland twenty-three years ago. She was a bit of a looker - tall, with long dark hair and lovely green eyes. Had a nice little job, a few casual boyfriends for a bit of naughty nookie when she fancied it and a second-hand ground-car that she fucking loved. Not like the fancy air-cars you bastards in your high towers drive - it just toodled along down on the fucking ground where Katie belonged."

She sighed and pulled on her cigarette. "So anyway, Katie had this little car and she was so proud of it. At least she was until some drugged up cunt-face smashed into her and sent her into the middle of next week. She barely survived. She was so fucking smashed up they gave her the last rites. Then someone whispered to her that there was this new, radical pioneering surgery that might just save her. Poor old Katie was so far gone she thought it was her only chance, so she signed up for it."

She stubbed out her cigarette and stood. She went to the curtains and pulled them back. She walked over to the Pod and looked at it almost longingly. Then she turned to me, pointing at the door to the Pod.

"And then Katie Marie Townsend woke up in there." She kicked the door viciously with her booted foot, the metallic clang filling the apartment.

"Except some cunt had renamed her Alyssa and had programmed her to fuck the little shit to order."

She stormed back towards me and I feared the worst. She grabbed me by the cheeks and shook my head. Her voice was now trembling as she yelled at me, back to Katie's not Alyssa's.

"You kept tellin' me I was so fuckin' realistic. Did you really fink I was a fucking android? Did you really fink I was all circuits and gloop and fucking synfettic skin?"

She let me go and walked back towards the curtain. "I'll show you how fuckin' realistic I am, Adam."

My heart was pounding as she left the bedroom. Oh my God, was she serious about this or had someone hacked her overnight? Maybe it was Gerd in Berlin having a laugh. I prayed it was. Any minute now she come back in and start to blow me and Gerd would be leaving gleeful messages about doing me over. I swallowed saliva like there was no tomorrow as the ball-gag filled my mouth.

I thought I was going to have a cardiac arrest when she did come back in holding a carving knife from the kitchen. I began to shake my head, mewling into the gag, making incoherent sounds as she approached.

She shook her head at me. "Ok, babes, not for you!" She sat back down and examined herself. "Where? Where's it gonna hurt the least? Oh fuck it, it can't hurt more than some of the shit you've done to me."

She ripped her left glove off and drew the knife across the heel of her hand. She screamed as blood coursed from it, running down her arm. She drew in air. "Fuck that hurt."

With her gloved hand she reached behind me and pulled off the ball-gag. I gasped for air as she held her bleeding hand to me. I was shaking. "Oh God, this isn't real."

She stared at me. "Oh it's fucking real, believe me. Go on then, you must 'ave tasted blood before. Taste that and tell me I ain't fucking real!"

She held her hand over my mouth and I tasted the metallic tang as the blood dripped down. It was real - no doubt. I was utterly mortified and very, very scared. What the fuck had I done?

I closed my eyes. "Oh my God, Alyssa - Katie - I am so fucking sorry. I never knew, I swear. I was shown blueprints - holo's of the models being made. I did a virtual reality tour of the factory. If had known, I'd never have even considered doing what I did."

Seemingly ignoring me, she looked intently at the blood running down her arm for a moment then walked calmly into the bathroom, drawing the curtains once more. I could hear a tap running as she washed the blood from her hand. She was gone a long time and there was a plaster over the wound when she returned. She was wearing a short satin robe - she had removed all of her fetish gear and make-up as well as her wig. Her head was covered in soft, downy hair only millimetres long.

She sat once more and looked at me with tears in her eyes as she regarded her hand. "Nice to know I'm real if nuffink else."

She wiped her eyes once more and went on, her voice quiet. "I felt everyfink, Adam. Every fucking slap, every fucking dick being shoved down my throat. Every drop of cum on my face. The canes, the whips. The fucking relentless pain as you kept on shaggin' me up me fucking arse. I shut down the voice module before the first time coz I knew what was coming. There was no fuckin' way I was going to let you hear me screaming in ecstasy like I was programmed to do when I was in agony - but could do fuck-all about it because my fucking body wouldn't obey me."

She began to really cry and I longed to hold her and tell her I was so sorry. I felt tears of my own falling down my cheeks. "Alys- Katie. Oh God, just stick that fucking carving knife in me and be done. I feel utterly sick."

She picked it up from the floor where she had dropped it. I held my breath as she moved it towards my flaccid cock. My voice was trembling with fear. "I probably deserve it, but please don't." I waited for the agonising cut, but it never came. She dropped the knife on the bed.