"I'll see you next week, Greg. Great game, man! Hey, can you believe we actually survived the attack on that goblin camp? Thirty against 5! Lucky for us, the GM was having a bad dice night." The excitement in Dragan's voice was palpable.
"Oh, I know, I know. It was so wicked! I'm really glad you found Jeff online. We really needed a good GM after that last one we had. What was his name, Rob or something like that?"
"Ron, his name was Ron and he wasn't that bad," Dragan defended, "I only invited him because Stevens kept pestering me."
"What does your personal shopper have to do with this? Wait, don't tell me, his son?" Greg questioned.
"Nephew, actually. Hey, he said Ron loved to play and had run his own game for like five years. Who knew it was a game he ran by himself for himself," Dragan laughed as he continued, "Oh well, live and learn."
"Definitely. Anyway, I have to jet. I've got to be at work by 10 tomorrow, which will give me about 6 hours of sleep if I hurry," he said heading for the door.
"Alright. See you next week. Hey, call me when you get the specs on that new processor you guys are working on and I'll make my decision on backing you."
"Hey thanks! Aah, the benefits of having the independently wealthy in your gaming group," Greg laughed.
"Yeah, yeah. Now get out of here before I get blamed for keeping you. Give Shirley my love and let her know how much I loved her brownies." Dragan rubbed his stomach contently.
"Will do, man. Hey, what are you up to tomorrow? Maybe I can drop by for lunch. I might have the specs by then," Greg inquired.
"Probably sleeping until about 1 or 2 and then who knows. I saw some things online I wanted to check out but other than that, dunno. I'll be here though. Drop by and I'll have Chef make you something."
"Cool. David's cooking is delicious. Thanks!" he paused, "Oh by the way, if I haven't told you recently, you really need to get out. Have you called that psychotherapist I told you about?"
"Yeah. She thinks she can help get me outside, which would be great. She's coming by on Tuesday."
"Awesome! It won't be long before you can start doing normal things, like going to grocery store and the mall."
"I doubt it will be that soon, but I'm hopeful," Dragan said shrugging.
"Alright man. I'll let myself out. See you tomorrow about 2ish," Greg said, leaving.
"Right. Bye."
Turning back to the game table, he grabbed his laptop, shut off the music and headed for the door as well. Dragan's gaming room, or dungeon as he liked to call it, was on the lower level of the mansion. He had it designed to look like exactly like a medieval dungeon, complete with wall torches and shackles. The table was made of solid stone and the chairs looked like stone but were extremely comfortable. They had built in heat and massage. His friends loved them. It was one of his favorite rooms in the mansion.
Carrying his laptop under his arm, he headed to his room, which was on the third floor. Once there he stripped down to his boxers and flopped onto the large comfy couch.
"Let's see what's on the menu tonight? Prego? BBW? Oh wait, I think tonight's specialty is girl on girl, yummy," he said aloud, amused.
He had been surfing for about an hour without finding one single site that thrilled him. It was always the same pictures and movies. He should really think about starting his own production company or maybe just hiring one of the big names like Seymour to supply him with fresh content.
Not a bad idea actually. I think his company is housed in Cali as well. I'll put that on my list of things to do tomorrow,
he thought to himself as he continued to mindlessly surf.
He paused as one of the links caught his eye, then said aloud, "Well hello, what do we have here?" He hit the link and it took him to a site called Create A Mate.
The site claimed to sell realistic cybernetic female companions that would act and respond just like a human. It claimed that the robot would be the perfect mate and that she would never judge, always loving even the most repulsive man.
At 26, Dragan was far from repulsive, in fact, he had often been told by woman and a few men that he strongly resembled Val Kilmer, except that he had blondish red hair and dark green eyes. If it weren't for the phobias he developed after his parents were killed, he was certain he would have a very active social life, not to mention sex life.
Interesting
, he thought as he scanned it.
The sight was well built and looked legitimate. The more he read the more intrigued he became. The robot was powered by a renewable power source, the sun, and she only needed to be exposed for less than an hour a day. Her skin absorbed the rays of the sun, converting it into energy. They explained the process in detail, but as interesting as he found it, a lot of it was beyond even him.
"Amazing," he said aloud.
In the center of the page there was pair of jiggling boobs with the text "For more information CLICK HERE". The "Click Here" was centered directly over the tits. He decided that getting some more information wouldn't be
too
pathetic.
As much as the possibility of having a companion after all these years thrilled him, he didn't get his hopes too high.
It's not like this technology is even possible yet, but what the hell,
he thought to himself shrugging.
The contact form was fairly mundane, so he filled it out. It only took a few seconds and he hit submit without even giving it a second thought. He looked at his watch and was shocked when it read 5:25am.
Fuck! How could it be this late?
he thought.
Unfortunately, he was wide awake and frustrated as hell. He did the only thing he could at this hour. He pulled out one of his favorite anal videos and stuck it into the DVD player. He turned on his TV and the action came to life on his 72 inch plasma screen.
Nothing like moaning in surround sound,
he thought, laughing. It wasn't long before he found just the right scene and showed himself some self love.
***
"Master Dragan, wake up, sir. You have a phone call," Dragan stirred not wanting to wake, "Please, sir, wake up."
"What is it Alistair?" He asked his manservant. "What time is it?" he asked certain he had only slept for an hour or so.
"It is half past three, sir."
Dragan was surprised by that. He must have slept poorly. It was unlike him to sleep so long.