Hello Literotica Readers.
This story came to me in a flash when I read a news article that talked about the human-shaped pillows that were becoming popular in Japan. They give someone something to cuddle, or spoon with when they sleep if there aren't any real people available to snuggle with.
It met with good response, but was also one of my most error-riddled texts that I'd ever posted. Wrong names used, typos, etc. This time around I've spent a lot of time cleaning such things up. That isn't to say that some haven't still slipped through, but I think this new draft has much more clarity and much fewer errors.
I hope you enjoy it!
Please do comment, favorite, and vote if you are so inclined!
***
Irina fought to keep her eyes open. It was a six-day trip to reach her claim in the Asimov-Jorgensen Asteroid field. Of course, 'claim' was a relative term. There was no real way of laying claim to rocks, and if one did put an identifying signal on the resource-bearing rocks it was simply an announcement to all claim-jumpers in a three-parsec range. So, the trips to and from the claims were the most arduous. - travelling under no power; hopping from rock to rock; sending out decoys - anything to avoid being tracked back to her base.
Yet, even back at her hollowed-out garrison in a planetoid sized rock, she still couldn't rest. There were algae cultures to refresh, plants to transfer to the hydro unit, massive unpacking to do. She always made it a policy to unpack everything from the supply sled before sleeping.
In regard to sleeping, she was looking most forward to unpacking the new bedding she'd purchased. An old miner who had first shown her the ropes had advised her once, "Spare no credits on the proper tools and
never
scrimp on bedding. Spend more than you think is proper for your sleep chamber. The mining life is terribly hard and any sleep you get is fiercely won. Make it count."
This trip, she had purchased a mattress specifically designed for low-G, and two-thousand thread-count sheets woven from Daxerian silk which was renowned not only for its softness, but also for its durability. It had set her back a week's worth of mining, but she was so looking forward to surrendering to sleep in the smooth and welcoming folds.
Having saved the bedding for last, she carried the boxes into her sleep chamber. The mattress rolled out perfectly and was easy to secure.
Not that she was an expert on such sheets, but the container did seem curious. There were two packages tied together - and it seemed a bit too much material for bedding. She wondered if perhaps she had gotten a bonus quilt in the mix.
She opened the first pressure bag and the sheets popped out. The sheets were so remarkable the wrinkles were gone before she even had the bed made. Laundering was one of the bonuses of the sheets. They were assured to be pristine when coming from the manufacturer and the fabric was 'nearly impervious to soiling' as the saleswoman had told her.
The sheets felt so good at the mere touch of her hand, she couldn't resist and quickly threw off her clothes. As she slid between the sheets an involuntary moan of pleasure escaped her lips.
"Oh Gods," she murmured, "I'll never get another day of work done. I'll be here for always."
There was something about the silken material that just screamed 'sensual'. She slid about slowly, reveling in the feel of the smoothness on her legs, or the way the fabric slid teasingly across her nipples.
As she turned at one point, she spied the second, bonus container. She reached down from the bed and pulled packing strip off and the contents sprang out.
It was a pillow, of sorts, but not a regular pillow. It was very long and seemed to be in sections or compartments. From her angle, she couldn't quite make out what it was meant to be.
Lifting it up to her, the shape became more clear. It was sort of human shaped. It was plain white and made of a basic cotton-like material, though fairly smooth. There was a torso, legs and arms, and a head. The legs were not jointed at all - merely tubes. The arms were the same - though there were basic hands stitched on the ends - more like plain mittens with a simple thumb and no fingers.
The head had no distinguishing features. No eyes or ears, it was merely a short cylinder.
"How peculiar," said Irina.
Irina talked to herself a great deal. It was a common trait among space miners.
"What are you?" she said to the mannequin-pillow-thing.
It did not answer.
She looked on the floor and saw a small sheet of instructions. It had obviously been translated from Chorean or some language by a factory amateur.
BEDMATE WONDER
:
Congratulations - you are possessed now of a Bedmate Wonder - most very good nighttime companion. Have no partner. Worry not you, here is answer.
Bedmate Wonder
can cuddle, snuggle or spoon as ancient American say in romcom funny movie vid.
Bedmate Wonder
composed of most happy adaptive material. Sleep in joy and love from herepoint on.
"Bedmate wonder, eh?" said Irina, contemplating the stuffed mannequin. "I suppose you can stay, but I don't allow snoring. The first snore, and you're out on the couch. Agreed?"
It didn't
dis
agree.
"I suppose you need a name," she said. "I will call you Yuri, after the first man in space. Well, goodnight Yuri. Lights off, station."
The lights turned off and she settled into the sheets, hoping they would caress her to sleep.
As was often the case, sleep was not easy in coming. It was a simple matter of adrenaline. Six days of stolen catnaps mixed with always being wary still had her system running at full alert.
There was only one thing for it.
She reached into the compartment beside the bed and dug out her favorite tool on the station - the Ultravibe 6000.
The pleasure contraption was actually composed of two pieces. The main, phallic component had an extra extension for just right places and was self-cleaning. It also came with small, saddle-like base to which the phallus could be attached. Both sections vibrated at a multitude of speeds - perfect for any occasion or mood.
Tonight, she had no need for the base. The very idea of mustering the energy to get up on her knees was overwhelming in her state. Tonight, she simply laid back and eased the supple implement slowly into her moist cavern.
"Wait," she said.
She turned to the mannequin and to put a pillow over his head.
"Not tonight, Yuri. Too soon. We've just met."
"That's it," she purred as she touched the pressure point on the ultravibe that increased the oscillations. Mmm, come to me my darling."
She closed her eyes and dredged up memories of past lovers. It had been so long, she had learned to meld them all into more of a generic blend of images, and not focus on one specific partner.
The fantasy partner this evening was certainly doing the trick. As she worked the long tool in and out of her, she imagined a muscular man atop her, gliding his length inside of her. The bliss was quickly growing. Involuntarily arching her back, she gasped at the feeling of the smooth sheets drifting over her skin. With her free hand, she clawed at the new fabric as the climax washed over her.
"Oh, dear gods," she moaned, "I can't...I can't... ooooohhh!"
She lay gasping as the ultravibe, sensing the contractions of an orgasm, slowly powered itself down automatically.
After putting away the pleasure device, she uncovered the mannequin's face and wrapped herself across him. Throwing her leg across the life-sized doll, she put her hand on its chest and snuggled her face into what there was of a shoulder and neck.
"I like these sheets, Yuri," she whispered. "I like them very much. Now remember, no snoring."
It was nearly twenty hours later before she woke up again, and then only to relieve herself in the facilities. Crawling back into bed, she looked into the mannequin's face.
Face?
"Yuri," she said, perplexed. "You did not have a face, did you?"
It was crudely drawn - as though someone had taken a dark marker and sketched out eyes and a mouth. The head, also, was more rounded than she remembered. Before it had been a true cylinder, a sort of cloth 'can'. Now there was no rounded edge, but a true human-shaped head. There were rough ears drawn on the sides as well.
"Hmm," she said, her eyes drifting closed again. "I didn't remember that. I must have been more tired than I thought."
Sleep overtook her again.
She awoke several hours later. The fingers of her right hand were interlocked with the mannequin's.
Fingers?
She jumped up out of bed and pulled back the sheets.
She
had
been tired, but not that tired.
"What the hell is going on, Yuri?" she asked.
The hands, which had most definitely been simple, mittens, were now complete with fingers. The fingers did not have joints, but they were separate. There were toes as well. The legs and arms, too - seemed to be at the start of forming sections. The hint of elbows and knees were there, and creases seemed to be forming at the ankles and wrists.
The face, too. What she remembered through her sleepy haze were childlike simple circles for eyes and a rough line for a face. Now, the face looked more like an accomplished charcoal sketch. The eyes were deep and penetrating. There was nose, a mouth - eyebrows. The face itself seemed even more formed - a chin was beginning.
She scrambled frantically to find the sheet of paper she vaguely remembered reading.
"What was it?" she asked. "Joyful bedfellow? Bed buddy? Pillow friend? Fuck, I can't remember."
She really couldn't. Her mind was too foggy.
"Stay there," she ordered and left for the kitchen.
"Station, double espresso with a shot of Blix guarana as well."
"You must be tired," said the station's androgynous and neutral voice.
"Tired and I need to be focused."
She sat, sipping at the stim drink and examining the external viewers as the caffeine worked its way from her cerebral cortex upward.
"Adaptive!" she said to herself as the sleep fog cleared from her mind. "It said something about adaptive. What kind of adaptive? What the hell is this thing?"
She ran back to her sleep chamber and glared at 'Yuri.' He seemed unchanged since the last time she'd seen him - perhaps a bit more detail in the face, but she couldn't really tell.
