Signatures, part I
I knew as soon as I opened my eyes what had happened. I was free of pain, I was free from the beeping of monitors, and I had free, unrestricted movements: I had died, and my mind had been downloaded into an android. After a long losing battle with cancer, I spent the last month in hospice. Any time I was awake, I was signing documents. The name William Hendricks became increasingly illegible as I resigned from the various civic boards and committees, stepped down as CEO of my company, made a few last minute charitable donations, updated insurance policies and my will so that my wife gets everything.
My wife . . . I’ve barely had any time to spend with her – the poor thing. When I married a 25 year old at the age of 57, all of my friends and colleagues assumed I was just another shallow multi-millionaire picking up a trophy wife. But although she is gorgeous, I really do love her. I thought we’d have decades together, but the cancer started almost as soon as the honeymoon ended. Maybe it’s for the best. She doesn’t have to be tied down to an old man when she’s in the prime of life. We’ll both start over. She’ll find someone new, and I’ll work as an android.
With my resources, I could afford any Download insurance policy I wanted, but after a lifetime on the top, I wanted to get back to contributing to society, so I decided that, upon my death, I wanted to be downloaded into a labour android – cutting stone in a quarry or building and fixing roads, something that contributed society.
But as I looked around, the surroundings were far too luxurious for any sort of gruelling labour. And while my new body certainly moved with much more ease than the one I had just left, it definitely didn’t feel strong and powerful. In fact, it almost felt a bit delicate. For the first time since waking up, I tilted my head downwards. I saw breasts. BIG ones. They were wrapped in delicate white lace and long blonde hair tickled my skin where those orbs swelled out from my chest. I had a dainty waist and curvy hips and BREASTS. I see my hands move – those small dainty hands with the manicured nails are really mine. I lift them slowly up to my lace covered nipple and give a delicate squeeze, almost like pinching myself to see if I’m dreaming. But what I receive is not a jolt of pain to wake me up, it’s an electric surge of pleasure sent directly to my computerized brain confirming that this is very, VERY real. I gasp in a sweet, breathy soprano.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” A familiar voice asks.
I hadn’t even realized there was anyone else in the room. I spin around quickly, feeling a host of strange sensations: breasts butt jiggling, hair swishing across my skin – and there I see Collin Fordham, head of the legal division at my company. “Collin?” I say, hating the way his name sounds in my new sexy voice. “What’s going on? Why am I . . . How . . . ?”
Collin smiled, seeming quite pleased with something. “Come on now, BILL,” he said, emphasizing the irony of the name with my new form. “I would think you were clever enough to realize what that body of yours is for, right?”
“It’s a . . . Pleasurebot.”
“That’s right,” he said smugly. “That bod was made for fucking. And that’s just what you’ll do. As it so happens, the new CEO of the company has decided to buy a Pleasurebot for the executive lounge. You’ll get to service all your former employees.”
“The new CEO?” I said in shock. They had already replaced me? “Who? Who would do such a thing?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he said chuckling. “Me.”
“YOU!” I said, trying to sound angry but instead just sounding petulant, or maybe even lusty. “But how? And why am I a Pleasurebot instead of a labour android?”
For a moment, Collin didn’t speak. He just looked at me, smiling. I was furious, but something in my programming must have kicked in at that moment, because a new sensation came over me. In response to his possessive stare, I started to feel horny. My new synthetic pussy and ass began lubricating themselves, as if in anticipation of some sexual act. But then Collin turned away, and the spell was broken. “Oh Gwendolyn,” he called out. “You can come in now. SHE’s awake.”
Gwendolyn? But that’s my wife’s name. And at that moment, my beautiful, loving wife strolled into the room. “Gwen?” I said meekly.
She didn’t look at me. She walked straight for Collin and gave him a deep, passionate kiss. He grabbed her by the ass while her hand caressed his chest and then sank lower, to the massive bulge in his pants, which she gave a tight squeeze. In spite of my confusion and anger, I felt my arousal building even more.
Finally, the two of them separated and Gwen turned to look me up and down. “I’ve gotta say, Billi, you’ve never looked better.”
“But . . . Gwen . . .”
She shook her head. “So naïve. You really thought a gorgeous woman like me would fall for a used up old man like you? I’m a gold digger, Billi. I figured I would just have to wait a couple of years before divorcing you. Thank god you got sick so quickly. Collin here took SUCH good care of me while you were in the hospital. It was his idea to combine our shares and take over the company. But it was MY idea to turn you into a Pleasurebot. You never did pay much attention to what you were signing there at the end, did you? Well you may not have been much of a lover when you were alive, but you’ll have plenty of time to make up for that now.”