Elena sighed as she looked over her takeout options. You'd think that in New York City, a central hub of a metro area that connected the entire East Coast, in a virtual world where resources were readily available and everyone on Earth could communicate easily, you could get good takeout, but no. Nothing interesting, nothing new; all the nifty fusion restaurants and creative culinary experiences were to be had in person, and Elena didn't feel like going out. She tapped out an order for some Chinese from one of her go-to spots, which would at least be tasty enough she could eat all of it. Elena loved to eat her fill, but it wasn't just being full she wanted. If that was all, she could just stuff her face with greasy, heavy fare. She just couldn't do it, though; she had to enjoy the food. It wasn't being full, it was the process of filling up that she loved. The destination was nothing if she couldn't enjoy the journey.
Later, finishing off her Mongolian beef and cleaning up after what had been a better than expected meal (a little familiarity with one of the cooks went a long way), she prepared herself for a night in. Elena loved a good shower, and she laid out some of her comfiest, silkiest pajamas as she waited for the water to warm to the steaming, penetrating warmth she preferred. Stepping gratefully under the cascade of heat, she closed her eyes as the water soaked her long black tresses, the tense muscles under her smooth olive skin finally loosening. She soaped up her plush curves, enjoying the softness of her body. A lifetime of loving food, some luck in the genetic lottery, and a career doing museum tours that kept her on her feet and moving had shaped her beautifully; she was invitingly plump but with strength and stamina that could keep her going for hours. As she took some extra time fondling her F-cup tits, and rubbing the wide, jiggling swell of her butt a little longer than really necessary, Elena could tell it was going to be one of those nights. The food helped, but she wanted to be filled.
Her friends knew her as a foodie and a great listener; she would let you tell her stories and gossip and troubles for hours over an anime marathon and some snacks and never complain. Her lovers knew her as generous and demanding in equal measure; she had an ass that literally wouldn't quit, and kept you coming back for more and more and more. Elena knew it all came back to one thing: a feeling of some vague, indescribable emptiness inside that she had always carried, and always wanted to fill. That's why she'd made a trip out west several years back for a mod that she'd personally designed. She knew that she'd have to push herself if she wanted to get at that emptiness, so she had some customized routines added to her real image codebase that would let her handle anything that came her way. Elena had a capacity for being filled that no one could match.
First, she was especially elastic. That wasn't too big a deal; plenty of people who loved food made sure they could eat bigger meals, and being extra stretchy was almost a given for sex workers these days. It just wasn't too common to see those mods on a tour guide, not that you could see them without getting very close with her. However, there's only so much being stretchy could do, so Elena designed something even that unlicensed modder thought was ingenious. Her body would displace mass that went past her limits, making it go straight to her curves. As she toweled off, she smiled at the memory of one very gifted boy she'd fucked; he had a dick that would put most holoporn actors to shame (although she knew he was a librarian; always the quiet ones). Every time he buried himself deep inside her, her tits plumped up two cup sizes. The sight of that definitely got him going, enough to actually keep up with her most of the night, and make her feel oh so full. What was his name? Devin? David? But he'd moved to Cambridge, because he was a damn good librarian on top of being a damn good fuck.
Elena slipped into her silky PJs and settled down on the couch. Man, now she was all worked up, the satiation from dinner was already starting to fade, and everything felt a bit extra empty tonight. She woke up her datapad and looked through her contacts. Everyone was busy, hence her plans for a night in, she'd known that. Dammit. She could try to make a new connection, she was on all the hookup networks, but that was a crapshoot. Hmm, she could order up an AI lover, like she'd ordered her fried rice and egg rolls. There was a thought, get a nice, hard dicking made to order. She pulled up the sex services pages and started to browse. Which meant sifting through a glut of fuckdolls made for men, predictable. The options that fit her preferences were few and far between, and they were generic, boring, nothing creative. No way she could enjoy the journey with "Ben Tremendous: A Virilicorp Best Seller" or his cardboard cutout corporate cousins.
Fucking New York, how could this city have no good takeout?
Okay, desperate times called for desperate measures, and her pussy was getting mighty desperate. There was the network where she'd found that modder out in Scottsdale. You could get anything, anywhere, if you were willing to take a little risk. For that matter, this kind of thing wasn't even illegal, it just wouldn't be...well regulated. She'd scored big with her capacity mods; they were affordable, the modder was brilliant and kind and thought she was equally brilliant, and they worked perfectly. Why not live dangerously? Wasn't pushing her limits, going further, exactly why she'd delved into that shadowy world in the first place, to pursue the filling of her emptiness?
Elena tapped her way out of the safe, sterile, approved networks and into the shadows that haunted the Cyberdream, bending it to their will. Now here you could find fuckdolls of every description. Dogboys with knotty red dicks who'd melt for a belly rub. Slimegirls you could sink into and let them caress every inch of you while they milked you dry. Horsecocks of sizes from huge to ludicrous, attached to a centaur if you wanted. Autonomous levitating replicas of the genitals of famous porn stars. Catgirls with huge milky tits and prehensile tails. A galaxy of kink to explore.
Elena browsed with interest; here was a world of creativity, the new and different, fusions of ideas from across the 'Dream mixing and flowing and building on each other. Fuck, this was hot. She took her lower lip in her teeth and started browsing one-handed, the flood of fetishes presented to her eyes making her nethers wet and demanding enough to require her fingers to keep them occupied. But what was she looking for? Something exotic and strange, outside what could be called human? Not really. A monstrous dragon dick or whatever might stretch her wonderfully, pump her curves out to hugeness with each stroke, but would it fill her? Maybe something a little more tame on the surface, but with a delicious prize when you bit into it. Yeah, an AI that looked like just another person, who could walk up to her apartment without attracting a bit of attention, that hid something really special for the one who ordered it, like that shy librarian boy hiding a third leg and a love of boobs that he could never sate. That's what she was looking for. The Tootsie Roll Pop of a fuckdoll. As though the thought had summoned the ad, she saw him.
Philip. Corny pun, but nobody ever said the smutty programmers lacked a goofball sense of humor. A good-looking guy on the surface, not the cookie-cutter model looks of the corporate sex toys but genuine, authentic handsomeness. The promises, though, oh the promises.
"Is something missing? Do you need to be touched deep, deeper than ever, by the biggest and best, to be satisfied? I know that feeling, that desire to be fuller than you've ever felt, so I made Philip. He's my dream, a lover who can know you inside and out, and adapt his body to fill every last fraction of an inch of a hungry, aching, empty hole. Let Philip please you like never before. I hope you like him."
This was it, this was the synthetic lover Elena was looking for, had always been looking for, needed to try. She could tell, she just knew it, he was the one. So she ordered him up for the night.
Half an hour and a couple of expectant, eager, self-inflicted orgasms later (gods, she was worked up anticipating this), Elena heard a knock at her door. She straightened her sleepwear and went to answer it. There he was, tall and handsome and looking a little shy and nervous, a paper bag in his hand for some reason.
"Elena?" He had a nice voice, deep and soothing.
"Yes, I'm Elena. Philip?"
"Yeah, hi. May I, um, come in?" Oh no, he was hesitant and cute, she was going to melt.
"Sure! Come on in, I've been expecting you." She stepped out of the way and ushered him in. "What's that you've got there, Philip?"
