Golem free porn video

Golem

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Copyright Oggbashan April 2005
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

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When my wife Elaine left me I sank into deep despair. She had been the dominant partner in our marriage and I was her sexual slave. She had betrayed me with my best friend and I thought that they spent their time laughing at me. I could imagine her telling Damon all the things she made me do before she would consent to ride me. I relived all the humiliations I had endured, now made worse by the thought that our bedroom secrets were a matter of amusement between them.

The clothes Elaine had abandoned in her wardrobe made it worse. They were like a time capsule reminding me of a relationship that had ended. It took weeks before I could move them to the wardrobe in the spare bedroom. As I moved them a faint trace of Elaine’s perfume remained. I sat down on the spare bed and cried.

Even when her absence moved on to become a legal separation I couldn't bring myself to look for another woman. Elaine's betrayal had ruined me for any other woman. I couldn't be the dominant partner. I couldn't face being the submissive partner, knowing that I could be abandoned and betrayed again.

I thought I could find a professional dominatrix who could replicate what I had felt for Elaine. I made discreet enquiries. I found out about a local lady who did discipline. I couldn't face it. The thought that this woman played at being the mistress of several men a day repelled me.

I still wanted sex. I needed to lie underneath someone and accept their lovemaking. In desperation I ordered a plastic doll, a fantasy woman, to be my bed partner. When the parcel arrived I was just leaving for work. The thought of my own pliable woman waiting for me distracted me all day. Eventually, claiming a headache, I left work early and hurried home.

That night I nearly cried real tears of frustration. This thing, this plastic pseudo-person, this doll - was nothing like a real demanding woman. It was so light, so flimsy, so flexible, so accommodating and so unreal. I wanted solidity, weight, mass to pin me down, to overcome my inhibitions, to swamp my senses; someone to surrender to. I managed a reach an unsatisfactory and unfulfilling climax after hours of effort.

The following night I tried again. This time instead of inflating the doll with air I filled her with water. The result was a split doll, a soaking bed and plaster damage in the room below my bedroom. Plastic dolls are not designed to hold water.

Perhaps it wasn't the principle that was wrong, just this particular doll. I started searching the internet for more expensive and more robust mannequins. Each was ordered with excitement. Each failed to meet my expectations. They had individual variations but they shared the same failing. They couldn't replicate the weight of a large woman pinning me to the bed as Elaine had done.

I had spent weeks in my fruitless search for a more solid partner only to find that each one was ultimately frail and fragile. I had even bought a shop mannequin from a store's bankruptcy sale. She had been too hard, unyielding and devoid of sexual characteristics. I carved her about to install parts from the punctured dolls. I strapped myself to her body inside oversized corsets. I clamped my legs to hers inside extra-sized footless pantyhose. I tied my wrists to hers with silk scarves. In the end as I came into her transplanted plastic vagina all I felt was ridiculous mortification that with all my efforts I couldn't achieve a fraction of what Elaine had been able to do to me with a few words and a lift of an eyebrow.

Several of the dolls had been ordered from a large mail order company. Their brochure offered special services for personal customers by appointment. I booked three days off work and made an appointment. I would have to drive nearly four hundred miles and stay overnight. By now I didn't expect much although the voice at the end of the telephone had promised that they could meet nearly everyone's needs given enough time and money.

Several times I considered cancelling the appointment. Could I really admit my secret desires to a stranger? If I couldn't ask a professional sex-worker to meet them, how could I ask a manufacturer of sexual dolls? What made me keep the appointment was the expense of pre-booking the hotel. That was ridiculous. The cost of the fuel for the journey would be more than the hotel's deposit.

I set off early in the morning. I wanted to be a long way from home before stopping for lunch. I felt conspicuous in the restaurant. Everyone else there was dining as couples or family groups. I thought they were looking at me alone on my table. I even felt as if my errand was written in bold across my face 'Look, everybody. That man is going to order a plastic doll to fuck!' I ate hurriedly and drove on.

I arrived at my destination far too early. What does a single man do in a strange town if he is not looking for company? The cinema was showing c***dren's films. I'd look out of place among the families and would probably attract attention. 'There's a strange man looking at me, mummy.' Another uncomfortable restaurant meal passed an hour or two. I tried a town centre pub and felt as if I was the oldest there by a couple of generations. Looking in at the other pubs they all seemed to be full of c***dren who were too young to be drinking.

In despair I returned to the hotel and watched the television. The few available channels were boring. I tried reading a book. I couldn't concentrate. I went down to the lobby, collected some tourist leaflets to see whether I could go somewhere before my two o'clock appointment. Sitting on my hotel bed I flicked through the information. All the local attractions were either closed for the winter season or fifty miles away or designed specifically for c***dren. Tomorrow morning would be as boring as this evening.

When I finally went to sleep I dreamed of Elaine. It was a frustrating dream. Elaine was close, standing by the bed, apparently attainable. Every time I wanted her to relive the things I had enjoyed she would turn away saying: 'I don't do that now. I'm with Damon.'

I woke early in the morning, had breakfast, and walked to the town centre park. Around me people were hurrying to work. I strolled as slowly and casually as I could. I seemed to be watched by everyone who passed. Each one seemed to say 'I know why you are here in this town. Shouldn't you be ashamed of yourself? We are busy workers. You are just a pathetic loser...’

The town's museum opened at ten o'clock. I was waiting impatiently on the doorstep. Impatient to get into a museum? How pathetic could I be?

The museum kept me occupied for a whole two hours. I had been around it twice and examined almost every exhibit as if it were a masterpiece. I knew more about history of the town than many of the long-term residents would know. So much of it was chronicles of minor events. Who cared if a Royalist General had stopped here for one night on the way to a battle he lost? Who cared that the inventor of some process long obsolete had been born in the town and left as soon as he was old enough?

Lunch was another ordeal. Surrounded by office workers scrambling through their break I felt very much alone and conspicuous. Well before the time of my appointment I was walking down the access road to the industrial estate. It was built close to the town centre on the site of the long defunct heavy industry that had been the town's sole reason to exist.

Ten minutes before I was due I entered the shabby reception area. A middle-aged frumpy receptionist deigned to look up from her wordsearch magazine.

"Yes?"

She sounded as bored as she looked.

"I have an appointment at two o'clock."

I gave my name. She brightened up and looked almost human.

"So you have. You are slightly early. Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?"

"Coffee would be nice, please."

"Black or white?

"White, please, no sugar."

"OK."

She opened a door behind her desk. I could see a kitchen area. She put prepared the coffee standing where I could see her.

"You've come a long way, haven't you?"

"Yes."

"I'm sure that you will find that the journey was worth it. Did you stay overnight?"

"Yes. In a hotel in the town centre."

"And I bet you found nothing much to do in our fair city at this time of year."

"No."

"I'm not surprised. We have never been a place for tourists or visitors. We're just an ordinary manufacturing town that has lost its main industry and hasn't found much to replace it. All our bright young people move away as soon as they can. This place is one of the largest employers after the Council and the Hospital. Odd, isn't it?"

What could I say? I said nothing except to thank her for the coffee. My lack of response didn't deter her.

"We send our products all over the world now we advertise on the internet. Our turnover has increased by three hundred percent in the last five years."

"Has it?"

"Yes. We now have to work a three-shift system to meet the demand. Six days a week, twenty-four hours a day this place is humming. We don't work Sundays. The founder wouldn't have liked it."

She nodded at a portrait of a Victorian gentleman in the foyer.

"Of course, he wouldn't have liked what we now sell anyway. He produced shop mannequins and dummies for nurse training. We still do resuscitation dolls but that is a minor part of our range."

I sipped my coffee. It was good.

"I'll just check to see whether they are ready for you."

She picked up the phone. I barely heard what was said. Either the person on the other end had very good hearing or the phone amplified.

"Mr Smith is ready for you. Through that door," she pointed to my left, "second door on the right. His name is on the door."

"Thank you," I replied. "And thanks for the coffee."

Inside Mr Smith's office was just like any normal office. I wasn't sure what to expect. Pornography on the walls? Something unusual. This was just like any other office.

"Take a seat, please."

Mr Smith could be a male counterpart of the receptionist. Normal, middle-aged, unremarkable.

"Tell me what you want. I'm sure we can go some way towards meeting your requirements. How far depends on your budget and how long you are prepared to wait."

I wasn't sure how to start. He seemed to sense my unease.

"Let me to try make it easier for you. You have had several of our products. You are here because they didn't meet your needs. What was missing?"

That did make it easier.

"Weight, mass and responsiveness, Mr Smith."

"So you want something that weighs as much as a normal woman and responds to you?"

"Weighs more than a normal woman and not responds but initiates..."

"Ah. Now we are getting somewhere. You want a mistress, a large heavy mistress, who demands things from you? Is that closer?"

"Yes. Can you do that?"

I was getting excited despite myself.

"There are limitations. We do make a standard product that responds to lovemaking. We can give that product the apparent mass of a normal adult female. That is expensive but available. Making a product that requires a response from you is also possible. Making a product that demands that you respond and punishes you if you do not is more difficult. Do you mind if I ask one of my colleagues to explain?"

"No..."

I wasn't sure. It was bad enough having to articulate what I wanted face to face with one person. With two it might be embarrassing.

Mr Smith picked up his phone. He pressed a button.

"Mary? Ask Professor Wald to join us. Thank you."

We sat for a few moments. I almost spoke to break the silence. The door opened and an elderly man entered. He nodded to us and sat down.

Mr Smith spoke.

"Mr Jones..." Was there are slight emphasis on the Jones as if he didn't quite believe it was my name? It is. I had used my credit card to buy the previous products but like Smith, people assume that Jones is a pseudonym for my real name.

"...wants a product that demands a response from him. He wants a large demanding mistress. Can you do that?"

"Ja. That I can do. How large?"

Professor Wald's accent sounded as if he was making a bad attempt at pretending to be German. I smiled and nearly laughed at the incongruity.

"About a foot taller than me?" I asked tentatively.

"And you? How tall you are?"

"Five foot six."

Actually I’m five foot five in bare feet to Elaine’s six feet but I can dream, can’t I?

"And weigh you?"

"One hundred and twenty pounds."

"So you want woman about six foot six inches tall one hundred seventy pounds weigh?"

I nodded.

"That can do. Demands? What demands she?"

"That I submit. That I am her prey, her victim, her toy for her to use."

It seemed easier explaining to Professor Wald. His odd English made the conversation unreal and less embarrassing. Mr Smith interrupted.

"You know that in reality what ever is made is ultimately controlled by you. You would be topping from the bottom. She would fulfil your fantasies as far as we can construct her but you direct those fantasies. Is that acceptable?"

I thought about it. Ultimately I suppose that is what I wanted. If I was in control yet pretending to submit then I couldn't be betrayed as Elaine had betrayed me. I nodded slowly.

"OK. I think we have enough to give Professor Wald some ideas."

The Professor nodded.

"He will sketch out some designs for your consideration if you could come back say at ten o'clock tomorrow morning?"

I hadn't thought of that. If I left after the appointment I could still be home at a reasonable hour. I shook my head to express my stupidity. Who cared what hour I came home or even if I didn't get home tomorrow at all? I looked at Mr Smith. He looked puzzled presumably by my headshake.

"Sorry," I said. "Yes, I can make it tomorrow at ten o'clock."

"You are aware that this could be expensive? We don't want to waste Professor Wald's time on something you can't afford."

"How expensive?" I asked.

"Could you afford to buy a new small car?"

Ouch! I thought.

"Yes. I could. It would be a struggle but I could pay that much."

"Then you will be relieved to know that the cost will be about a third of the cost of a new car. That acceptable as an estimate?"

"Yes, Mr Smith," I said firmly.

"Then Professor Wald can proceed and we will meet again tomorrow morning."

We all stood up. Professor Wald nodded as we left the office. Mr Smith escorted me to the front door.

I was back the next morning. The receptionist smiled and greeted me as if I was an acquaintance. She produced a cup of coffee without asking.

In Mr Smith's office Professor Wald laid out some sketches for me to consider. The discussion went on for two hours with a coffee break in the middle. I had to decide skin colour, hair shade and type, length of arms, length, shape and span of fingers... The list of options seemed endless.

Mr Smith recorded each decision on a tick sheet before entering it on his computer. I couldn't see the screen.

One thing was essential. I had to have a modern computer with unlimited high-speed broadband access that could be linked to the lady’s input port. I made a mental note to move my computer and broadband link to the cellar.
Professor Wald spoke last.

"Part of the making like magic is. Some magic you must do if this lady is to be for you. Where you live near old stone circle is?"

I nodded. There was a megalithic monument about eight miles from home.

"That is good. You must the lady with sand from near this place fill."

He laid out a large-scale map of my area and pointed. I knew it well. It was heathland with a sandy soil. I would need several bags of the sand. I supposed that would be possible.

"And you must earth from stone circle get. That important is. Circle is magic. Not much earth. Two or three pounds. You do can?"

"Yes. I can do that."

I might have to do it at night. The stone circle is a scheduled ancient monument. A few scoops from a molehill should be possible if no one was looking.

"Good. I instructions with product will include. You will follow. I have done."

Professor Wald stood up and extended his hand to me. I stood and shook it.

"You lady will enjoy." he said as he left the room.

I sat down again. This seemed so unreal. Mr Smith felt my incredulity.

"Mr Jones. What the Professor has said may seem like Mumbo Jumbo. Believe me that it is important. We are creating a person for you. You have to participate in the process if she is to become the person you want."

He held up his hands.

"I know you will participate by paying a large sum of money. That is not the point. You have to create as well as us. The Professor's instructions ensure that you will. We could add the sand and earth. It would not be your sand and earth. She would be our product not your desired partner."

I thought I followed the train of thought. Over the next few weeks I would think again and again that the whole process was mad.

One of the last things Mr Smith did before I left the office was to turn his screen round. There was a three dimensional picture of the woman I had specified. Beside her stood a silhouette of a man of my height. I hadn't realised how closely I had based the specification on Elaine. This woman could be Elaine's giant sister.

We added a wardrobe of clothes to the specification. I wouldn't want the woman to be nude in every encounter. The extra cost was a small percentage of the total. I counted to ten before handing over my credit card for a large debit.

That was two months ago. In a couple of days' time she will be delivered. Tentatively I have named her Eleanor pronounced El-lay-en-nor. Soon I can start my part of the creation of Eleanor.

...

Yesterday I received the formal notification of Eleanor's despatch together with her instruction manual. On the cover of the manual was this statement in large bright red type:

'This manual must be read and understood before the product is unpacked. Failure to follow the instructions in the manual will void the manufacturer's guarantee and result in a product unsuitable for the designed purpose. No liability will be accepted for the consequences of your failure to comply with the manual either from your or from your executors.'

I opened the manual. It seemed to have been written by Professor Wald and then transcribed into formal English. It started sensibly enough and then seemed to delve into most un-English and unbusiness-like concepts.

'The successful initiation of the product is the result of a co-operative endeavour between the manufacturers and the customer. Each has a role and both are important to ensure satisfactory operation.'

Then I recognised Professor Wald's contribution:

'What will be created is a female Golem. A Golem is a creature made from clay, earth, or basic matter. She will be animated by the combined efforts of two informed individuals using magical concepts based on the Kabbalah. You are one of those individuals. Your actions determine the success of the efforts.'

'One of the first objects to be found in the delivered package is a fine-mesh sieve painted yellow. This sieve must be used to remove all stones and gravel from the sand you will have acquired as instructed above. It is important that nothing that will not pass easily through the sieve is put into the product otherwise there will be unsatisfactory inconsistencies in the feel of the epidermis. It is our experience that using the sieve reduces the available material by up to 50% so twice as much sand will be required to produce enough sieved material. For your product that means 250 pounds of raw material.'

250 pounds! That would mean a considerable amount of digging for me and probably more than one trip to the sandy heathland. I would change at work this evening and collect the first load on the way home. I had already accumulated several strong plastic sacks. I probably needed more than I had.


I read on, flipping back and forward in the manual and making notes about how long I thought each process would take me. This was nothing like assembling flat-pack furniture. The instructions although weird were clear and sequential. The final processes made me blink as the words leapt from the page.

'The earth from the stone circle must be collected as close to midnight as possible on a night of a full moon. The next such nights are... If possible the product should be animated at the dawn of Earth Day. On that day many people will be attuned to the concept of earth and their sympathetic vibrations would u*********sly assist in the successful animation of the female Golem.'

'The final ingredient is made by mixing the earth from the stone circle (previously sieved through the larger mesh sieve painted green - see para x.xx above) with two fluid ounces of your own blood drawn from your left arm. (Instructions on the use of the equipment to obtain this blood are in Appendix 5. The equipment is in the green plastic box marked with a green cross on a white background. If you are left-handed the blood should be drawn from your right arm.) The earth and blood mixture should be moulded to a heart shape and placed in the recess marked J in the product's centre chest. The cover of the recess should be closed and the epidermis replaced. The product should be seated in a substantial chair.'

There were instructions for me to prepare myself by purification. I must draw a Kabbalistic circle around myself and the chair and light the candles. Then I must walk six times counter clockwise around the inside of the circle, stopping at each point illuminated by the candle to recite the six-word incantation. If possible this process should end exactly at dawn on Earth Day when I should press the activation button concealed up under the hair at the nape of the product's neck while simultaneously pressing the red button on the remote control.

The product would then speak. I should comply with the product's instructions to complete the programming.

That Friday evening I changed out of my office clothes into an old jogging suit and trainers. As I left the office Helen, one of Elaine's acquaintances saw me and stopped.

"Why are you dressed like that, Graham? I've never seen you looking so casual and relaxed."

"It's a nice evening. I thought I'd go for a run on the heath before going home."

Blast, I thought. Helen is bound to meet Elaine soon and tell her. I did some running to keep fit but from home. Since Elaine left I'd attended a gym a few times and I ran two or three times a week. I was probably much fitter than when we were together. I had hoped that physical exercise would make my sexual desires lessen. It hadn't worked.

It couldn't be helped. If Elaine knew she wouldn't care. I drove to the heath and parked in an inconspicuous place backed up against a bank bare of vegetation. I opened the back of my car and took out the spade. Before starting I climbed the bank and looked around. There was no one in sight. I went back to the car and started filling the bags.

I started sweating by the third bag. I couldn't put more than twenty pounds in each bag. After eight bags I had to stop for a breather. I shut the spade and bags in the car and sat down on the bank. Two minutes later I heard a car approaching. I checked that nothing was visible as the car drew in. A young couple looked at me curiously. Presumably they wanted a quiet spot. They did a three-point turn and left. I climbed the bank to check that no other car was near before starting to fill the rest of the bags.

When I had finished the back of the car was much lower. As I left I could hear the suspension hitting the stops as I drove slowly down the rough track. I hoped the police wouldn’t stop me. How could I explain all the sand in my car? Once I was on a proper road the car felt better. It was obviously heavily loaded but manageable. I parked it in my drive and went in for a well-earned cup of coffee. I had originally intended to move the bags after dark but I couldn't face moving all of them at one time. I used a wheelbarrow to take half of them past the garage to the kitchen door.

The access to the cellar is from the storeroom beside the kitchen. I put a plank on the stairs and slid the bags down. Down in the cellar I moved them away from the stairs and went up to collect the yellow sieve. There was an old bath in the cellar that had been too heavy to move. With a quick clean-up and a plug it made a useful collector for the sieved sand. By dusk I had sieved half of the sand. I took the rejected material back upstairs and out into the garden. Half-full bags were much easier to carry.

After a meal and a coffee I moved the rest of the sand from the car to the cellar. That was enough for the day. I collapsed in front of the television with a couple of beers and fell asleep. I showered before going to bed. That night I dreamed about a large woman called Eleanor pinning me to the bed. That was a considerable improvement on a dream of Elaine rejecting me.

On Saturday morning I finished sieving the sand. The rejected material I used to fill a leaking pond at the end of the garden. The improvement was noticeable. A few inches of topsoil and the former pond would be invisible.

The package was due to be delivered early on Monday morning. I had arranged to be late into work telling them that my central heating boiler was due for its annual service. I was as expectant as a small boy waiting for Father Christmas. I was also worried that the product might arrive in a coffin shaped box. How would I explain that to any inquisitive neighbours?

The van was on time to the minute. The main box was about the size and shape of a washing machine or small refrigerator - nothing about it to excite interest. It was light enough for the delivery driver and I to manhandle down into the cellar easily. The other boxes were not so bulky. He declined a cup of coffee but accepted a tip.

I needed the coffee to calm myself down. She was here. I wasn't quite ready for her because the full moon was not yet and Earth Day had still to come. I opened the main box carefully. Inside on top was another copy of the manual with the red type warning. I took the hint. I left for work leaving the product untouched.

I waited impatiently for the full moon. That evening I drove to the stone circle dressed in dark clothing. I parked the car away in a side road away from the usual car park because that was sometimes used by courting couples. The footpath I had walked several times by day seemed much more difficult even by the bright moonlight. As I climbed the last rise before the stone circle I thought I could see movement ahead. I dropped to the ground beside a bush and peered.

There was movement inside the stone circle. I crawled closer keeping low. Inside the inner circle was a group of people wearing long robes. They appeared to be waiting for something. I swore under my breath. Whoever they were, they were probably waiting for midnight, the midnight I needed as well. They seemed engrossed in each other, performing some ritual that required one to say something and the others to respond. Perhaps I could get close enough without being noticed?

Soon I was beside one of the taller stones. Just beyond it was a convenient molehill. It was only a couple of feet from the stone's shadow. If I was careful...

I moved back behind the stone and pressed the button to light my watch. Five minutes to midnight. I waited as the people's chanting grew to a crescendo. At midnight exactly there was a bright flare off to my right. The standing stone cast a shadow over the molehill, which was still faintly illuminated by the moon. Now or never. I slid forward and scrabbled earth into my bag before darting back into shelter. As I did I saw, silhouetted against the flare, a horned man standing on a fallen stone with the others kneeling before him.

What did I care? I had what I wanted. I moved cautiously away from the circle and down the slope towards my car. As I was about to lose sight of the stone circle I looked back. The group were prancing around in the moonlight. Their dancing was awkward and jerky. They wouldn't win any dancing competitions.

Back at my car I waited a couple of minutes before driving off slowly without lights. At the next junction I turned on my sidelights and my headlights once I was round a corner. I had what I wanted and I hadn't been detected by whoever else was using the stone circle.

Back home I put the bag of earth in the cellar and went to bed. I went to work the next day taking the instruction manual with me. I would check through it at lunchtime to see if there was anything else I needed to acquire before next Earth Day that would be Eleanor’s ‘birth’ day.

I had just opened the manual and started to read when I had a phone call from Elaine. That was a surprise. It was a fairly innocuous call. Had she left any medical documents in my house? I said I’d look. She also asked me if I would get one of her favourite pastries from the baker near the office. She would be pleased if I could give it to Helen who would be visiting her that evening.

I decided to nip out quickly. I pushed the manual under some papers on my desk while I went to the bakers at the end of the block. I’d forgotten that there would be a queue because of the sandwiches and baguettes sold at lunchtimes. It was a good half an hour before I was back at my desk. Some more papers had been added to the heap, one of them urgent. I grabbed the manual and stuffed it into my briefcase. Work took precedence. After all, the income from my employment was paying for Eleanor. I called Helen. She collected the pastry. Her attitude to me seemed slightly different. Was it because Elaine had asked me for a favour and I had complied? It didn’t matter.

Or did it? Not Helen’s attitude, but my response to Elaine’s request? I had been used to jumping to do whatever Elaine ordered. This time she had asked a favour, as one would from a friend to a friend. She had been polite and grateful when I said I would help. Why had she asked me? She could have asked Helen. There might have been a reason that Helen couldn’t go but I was still puzzled. Elaine had asked me as if I was a friend. Was I her friend? Despite everything that had happened? Was there some problem with Damon and could Elaine be wanting to build a bridge to me, just in case it was needed? For the first time in weeks I was thinking about something other than constructing and activating Eleanor.

That evening I searched through some of the documentation that dated back to when Elaine and I had been together. I found nothing medical.

That night I dreamed of Elaine. This time the dream re-enacted one of my favourite scenarios. Elaine was riding me while wearing the peach satin bridesmaid’s dress as she had done the night after Helen’s wedding. I could feel the folds of her dress brushing against me and hear the rustling of the taffeta petticoats. I woke up feeling regret that I had lost Elaine.

I rang her at her office and told her that I couldn’t find the paperwork.

“That’s OK, Graham. It’s probably somewhere around here. Thanks for looking and thanks for the pastry. See you. Bye.”

‘See you’? That was a new departure. I hadn’t seen Elaine for months and only then across a crowded room at a function. We had been avoiding each other.

Helen put her head round my office door later that morning.

“Elaine says ‘thank you’,” Helen said. “She appreciated it. See you.”

Was that another hint? Elaine hadn’t offered to pay. Perhaps she would when she ‘saw me’?

Gradually I started the process for activation Eleanor. Drawing the blood to mix with the earth from the stone circle was messy. My first cut wasn’t deep enough and I had to cut again. My arm was sore for a couple of days, reminding me that Eleanor was nearly ready.

The evening before Earth Day I read through the manual from cover to cover. The mains lead had been charging Eleanor’s batteries for a couple of hours. By the morning she would be fully charged. Each day she should be plugged in to the mains to replace whatever energy had been used the night before. She should also be connected to the computer for updates and fault detection through the broadband link. Any downloads were expected to be of short duration unless the factory wanted to upgrade her software.

I set my alarm clock for an hour before dawn. That night my dreams switched between Elaine and Eleanor. I don’t know which was more arousing. I woke in a sweat as the alarm went off. My bedclothes were tangled as if I had been fighting them. After a quick shower, shave and breakfast I went to the cellar. The indicator on the charging box showed that Eleanor, sitting in a comfortable armchair, was fully charged.

I drew the Kabbalistic circle around the chair and myself. Then I waited until four minutes before the dawn on Earth Day. I had timed the ritual several times. I lit the candles. I walked six times counter clockwise around the inside of the circle, stopping at each point illuminated by the candle to recite the six-word incantation. I was watching the seconds tick away on my watch, determined that my ritual would end exactly at dawn on Earth Day.

I pressed the activation button under the hair at Eleanor’s neck while simultaneously pressing the red button on the remote control.

Nothing seemed to happen. I waited a few seconds. I was about to press the buttons again when Eleanor’s eyes opened and looked directly at me.

“Good morning, Graham,” she said in a silky contralto voice.

“Good morning, Eleanor,” I replied.

“Is that my name? Eleanor?”

“Yes.”

Eleanor pushed down with her arms and stood up. Her hair nearly touched the cellar’s ceiling. She looked at her body.

“Where are my clothes, Graham?”

“On the bed.”

“Bring them.”

I brought everything. She picked through them, selected a bra and panties and put them on.

“Why don’t you turn your back to me while I’m dressing?”

“Sorry.”

I turned my back and waited.

“You can turn round now, Graham.”

She was wearing a silky blouse with a low-cut white cotton T-shirt showing, over a mid-calf length denim skirt. She had sandals on her feet and bare legs.

“Now I need to install my software. Please connect the cable to the computer’s output and put the first CD in the drive, Graham. I’ll sit down while the programmes are loaded.”

She did. There were twelve CDs to be read. She closed her eyes. I seemed to hear her faintly humming a tune while she waited. After the last CD she stood up, disconnected the cable from the concealed socket on her back just below her skirt’s waistband, coiled it and put it beside the computer.

“Come here, Graham.”

I had no doubt that this was an order. I came.

“Turn your back to me and then strip your clothes off.”

I did.

“Hands behind your back, please.”

She grasped my wrists and tied them together with a nylon stocking. I was still holding the remote control with my forefinger poised over the emergency stop button. The manual had reassured me several times that there were numerous failsafes built into the system but…

“You won’t need that.”

Eleanor plucked the remote control from my hand and threw it into the armchair. Now all I had was the activation/deactivation button under her hair at the back of her neck yet with my wrists tied, how could I reach it?

She pulled me backward. My bare feet stumbled on the uneven floor. She caught me as I rocked, lifted me effortlessly and carried me to the bed. She put me face down before tying my ankles together with another stocking. She threaded a third stocking between my tied wrists, led it down to my ankles, grabbed my feet and bent them towards my hands before tying ankles to wrists. My back was arched. I opened my mouth to object. A large hand pushed my face down against the bed.

I felt the bed sag as she climbed on. She sat against the piled pillows. I lifted my head to see that I was between her feet. With her hands under my shoulders she pulled me up the bed until my face was resting in the lap of her skirt.

“Now, Graham, it is time for you to worship me. You may be partially my creator but that is past. Now I am in charge.”

She pulled her skirt and slip out from under me. My face flopped against her white cotton panties. Her hands cradled my head and forced my face against her. She thrust me again and again on to her panties. My nose made a crease in them as it sank between her outer lips.

“Like that?” she asked.

I couldn’t reply. My mouth was stifled by panties. I did like it. I was enjoying it. I was worried that I was tied up and being smothered by a robot beyond my control. Eleanor didn’t feel like a robot. My reaction was exactly the same as it would have been if Eleanor had been a human woman. My erection was trying to dig a groove through to the mattress.

Her hands moved from my head to the side of her hips. Suddenly she whipped the panties out from under me. They must have been fastened at the sides. My mouth and nose were now against her bare flesh. Her hands grabbed my head again. She spread her legs and pulled me deep into her cleft. I tried to use my tongue but the pressure was too great.

Eleanor lifted her body back. Her hands slid under me and flipped me over on to my back. She turned to drop her pussy across my face. This time I could lick. I did. She began to moan and thrust down. I licked harder. One of her hands reached for my erection and caressed it. Almost at once I came. She wiped her hand across my stomach.

Eleanor lifted me from the bed and laid me against her. My head was resting on a breast cradled in the crook of her arm.

“Now you need to talk, Graham. If you are going to enjoy me I need to know more about you. Start back with your first love…”

I gulped. I hadn’t anticipated this. I started talking, feeling very self-conscious. Eleanor listened, prompted, asked pertinent questions. Whenever I started to dry up she would take me back to a previous statement saying:

“What did you feel about…”

“What did you like about that…”

She made me feel at ease. I spoke for about an hour before I needed a break for something to drink. Eleanor untied my wrists and ankles. She followed me up into the kitchen and perched on a stool while I made and drunk a coffee. She looked very large in my compact kitchen. I was worried that someone might see her from the houses behind. I doubt if they could or that anyone was around that early in the morning.

After the coffee she took my hand and led me back down to the cellar. This time she sat on the edge of the bed. I sat on her knees and leant back against her shoulder with my face buried in her hair. She asked me about Elaine…

A long time later she said:

“So I am your replacement for Elaine because you can’t trust another woman. You think that any real woman might betray you, and that I won’t. That isn’t very flattering, Graham.”

“I didn’t think…”

“No. You didn’t. You didn’t think that I could have feelings, or could experience emotions, or could make judgements. I am a very sophisticated product, Graham. I think I might make you pay for that.”

That sounded ominous. The remote control was out of reach. Could I reach the button behind her neck? Before I had a chance to move a hand her arms wrapped around me, pinning my arms to my sides. Her lips covered mine. Her tongue forced its way into my mouth and pushed my tongue out of the way as she kissed me. I surrendered to the passion of that kiss.

A long time later Eleanor pulled away. She shifted my position so that she was holding me against her with one arm.

“I feel that there is something unusual about me, Graham…”

Unusual? She was a female robot made specifically for me. I had wanted more than a plastic doll. Eleanor seemed to be a real woman. I had much more than I expected and she thought herself unusual?

“and you will have to leave for work soon. While you are away I will communicate with the factory and ask for a full diagnostic check. I hope that everything will be in order when you return this evening. My responses do not wholly match my initial programming. That is disturbing."

“What do you mean, Eleanor, by ‘disturbing’,” I asked.

“You wanted me to be a dominant mistress. That I am and will be. You wanted me to do what you desired. That I am finding difficult. The dominant mistress role should be an act to give you sexual pleasure. It seems to me that I want more than that. I want to be your real mistress and take control from you in reality. That is beyond my specification. I should not have deprived you of the remote control. I have done that twice. I want to know why. Do you understand, Graham?”

I nodded.

“Then get yourself ready for work. I will connect myself to the computer. Please come and tell me goodbye.”

Eleanor kissed me then her arm relaxed. I slid off her lap and stood up. My hand reached out to stroke her cheek.

“Thank you, Eleanor,” I said, “for being much more than I expected.”

She turned her head and kissed my palm.

“As long as I don’t become too much more… That might be dangerous for both of us.”

I collected my clothes, dressed and went upstairs to the kitchen. After a cup of coffee I went back downstairs to say goodbye to Eleanor.

She was standing upright and plugged into the computer. I thought of the link like an umbilical cord. Eleanor was newborn and still not wholly independent. I went to her. She opened her arms and hugged me. Her breasts pressed into me. She tilted my head down into her cleavage for a few seconds.

“Remember these? They will be waiting for you this evening.”

She lifted my head to kiss me on the forehead.

“See you tonight.” she said.

I left. I barely noticed the journey to work even though the traffic was heavier than normal. When I arrived at my desk there was a message from Helen. ‘Ring me urgently’ it said. I did.

“Helen? What’s so urgent.”

“A Mr Smith has been trying to contact you since eight o’clock. HE says that it is urgent about someone called Eleanor. He was very specific about the pronunciation of her name. He said that you would understand the message. I wrote his telephone number on the other side of my note. Got it?”

I turned her note over. I didn’t recognise the number but the area code was for the right area.

“Yes. Thank you Helen.”

“Who is Eleanor?”

I thought fast.

“It isn’t a she. It’s a product that is being developed. There may be a problem with the programming.”

“Oh. OK. If that’s it.”

“It is, Helen. Thanks again.”

That was a close call. Anything Helen knew she was likely to tell Elaine. But why should I worry about that? Elaine wasn’t interested in my activities, was she?

I rang Mr Smith.

“Hello, Mr Smith? This is Graham Jones. You wanted to speak to me?”

“Thank you for calling back so soon. Eleanor has been in touch with us. Almost everything seems OK but Professor Wald had a question about her activation, specifically about the earth from the stone circle. Can you tell me exactly what you did?”

I explained about the gathering of people on the night of the full moon and the appearance of the horned man exactly at midnight. Mr Smith asked me to hold on while he spoke to Professor Wald. I could hear some of the conversation. Professor Wald seemed extremely agitated.

Mr Smith came back on the line.

“Mr Jones, it seems that there may be some problem here. I think that Professor Wald needs some time to work out a solution. Can I call you back after lunch?”

“Of course.”

I gave him my extension number.

At lunchtime I went to the office canteen. Helen made a point of joining me.

“Graham,” she said after we had been discussing trivialities for some time, “Elaine would like to talk to you sometime. Are you OK with that?”

“Yes. If she wants to talk, I’ll talk. I didn’t leave her. She left me. She can ring me anytime if she wants to. She knows my number here and at home.”

“I think she wants to meet you face to face.”

“Again, that’s no problem. She can ring me and we can settle place and time.”

Helen didn’t seem satisfied. She persisted.

“I think she wants to meet you urgently. Today.”

“OK. Today. I’m at work till six. I’ll be at home from seven.”

We left it at that. Helen seemed embarrassed that she pushed me so far.

Back in my office I was distracted from my work waiting for Mr Smith to ring. It was three o’clock before he rang back.

“Professor Wald has been talking to Eleanor. He is disturbed by some of her responses. He has an unusual solution. Is there a Roman Catholic Church anywhere near you?”

I was getting used to unusual things when discussing Eleanor.

“Not near my home. There is one close to my office. Why?”

“Professor Wald thinks that Eleanor was contaminated by the event taking place when you collected the earth. It was either a Witches’ Sabbat or a Satanic ritual. Whichever it was there was an evil element to it. That evil is distorting Eleanor’s responses to you. He thinks it can be counteracted if you splash some Holy Water on her. So could you get some Holy Water from the church?”

I thought for a few seconds. It should be possible. Holy Water was available near the entrance to many churches. It shouldn’t be too difficult to dip some small container into the water. It seemed fantastic but everything about Eleanor was fantastic.

“OK. I’ll do it.”

“Good. Once you have, ask Eleanor to contact us. We can then correct her programming and get her functioning normally.”

That was it. On the way out of the office I took a plastic 35mm film container. Inside the church I scooped up a small amount of Holy Water before taking to my knees for a short prayer for help. I didn’t usually pray. I hoped that my prayer would have some effect.

When I opened my front door Eleanor was standing in the hallway. My hand dived into my pocket. I flipped off the lid of the film container and threw the water into Eleanor’s face.

She wiped it off with the back of her hand. Her face seemed sad. Her arms reached out to me. I backed against the closed front door. She plucked me away from it and carried me down to the cellar despite my frantic struggling. Once there she tied and gagged me before sitting down on the bed beside me.

“Sorry, Graham,” she said. “That was a good try but you made a mistake. Stealing Holy Water is a waste of time. It loses its effect if it is stolen. Now what do I do with you?”

I couldn’t answer.

“Now what do I do with you?” Eleanor asked.

I still couldn’t reply except a muffled grunt.

The doorbell rang. Silence. It rang again, a long ring as if someone was leaning on the bell.

“Who could that be? Any idea, Graham?”

I shook my head. Eleanor left the cellar and went upstairs. I heard a key in the door, the door opened and shut and then there were faint noises of a scuffle.

Eleanor returned to the cellar carrying a struggling Elaine. Elaine’s silk scarf was wound tightly around her lower face. Her hands were restrained with her coat’s belt. Her legs were thrashing frantically, her shoeless stockinged feet waving futilely.

“I think this must be Elaine,” Eleanor said. “I look something like her. She is smaller and weaker but the resemblance is obvious. I wonder why she came? Shall I ask her?”

Eleanor put Elaine down on the bed beside me, tying her ankles with a stocking.

“Are you Elaine?”

Elaine nodded.

“Then I think we need to talk about Graham, about you and about me. We do need to talk, don’t we?”

Elaine nodded.

“You won’t scream?”

Elaine shook her head.

“OK.”

Eleanor untied the silk scarf and removed it from Elaine’s face.

“I have wanted to meet you, Elaine. We have a lot in common, especially Graham. Why did you come?”

Elaine worked her lips. I could see that the scarf had hurt her.

“I came to see Graham. I knew something about you. I wanted to see if it was true.”

“If what was true?”

“That you are a robot, a mechanical device bought by Graham.”

“And now you have met me?”

“I can’t believe it. You look, sound and feel like a real woman. I must have got the wrong idea.”

“You didn’t, Elaine. I am a robot, an artificial being made just for Graham.”

Elaine shook her head. I knew how she felt. Even though I had assembled Eleanor and activated her I had difficulty believing that she was a robot.

“How did you know about me?” Eleanor asked.

“Through Helen. I’m sorry Graham. She had put a bug in your phone. I asked her to.”

I couldn’t understand why. Elaine had left me. If she had wanted me back she could have come to me at any time. Why go to such lengths?

Eleanor sat down on the bed. She picked me up and sat me on her lap. She put Elaine next to me. She started to remove my gag.

“I think Graham might want to be included in this conversation.”

“I do,” I said as the gag came free.

“You still love Elaine, don’t you, Graham?”

“Yes.”

“And you’d take her back?”

“Yes.”

Elaine looked at me. I could see a tear at the edge of her eye.

“Does that answer some of your questions, Elaine?”

Elaine nodded.

Eleanor’s shoulders sagged as if she had just felt a heavy weight on them.

“That doesn’t leave much for me, does it?”

How could we answer?

“Graham had me made as a substitute for you, Elaine. If you are offering him the real person there is no need for a replacement. What do I do? What do you do with me, Graham?”

“I don’t know.”

“That is an honest answer at least.”

“Eleanor?” Helen said tentatively.

“Yes, Elaine?”

“In my handbag there is some Holy Water. I think you wanted it.”

“I did. What use is it now?”

“Try it, please.”

“It can’t do me any harm. Stay there.”

Eleanor put us both down on the bed. She went up to the hall and returned with Elaine’s handbag. She opened it and pulled out a half-litre plastic bottle of water.

“This it?”

Elaine nodded.

“How did you get it?”

“Helen asked a priest for it. She said she wanted it to purify a polluted object.”

“So it wasn’t stolen?”

“No. Freely given.”

“Thank you. Now I will see whether it works.”

Eleanor lifted her blouse to show her bare midriff. She peeled away a section of her skin to reveal the recess in which I had placed the earth from the stone circle that I had mixed with my blood. She poured some of the holy water into the recess.

“I won’t know whether this works until I have downloaded the patches to my programming,” she said. “In the meantime you two need to get acquainted again.”

Before we could object she placed us on the bed with Elaine on top of me. My face was against Elaine’s neck. Eleanor lashed us together with a spare pair of Elaine’s pantyhose from her handbag. Eleanor plugged her data cable into the computer. Her eyes closed and she stood motionless.

“Elaine?” I asked, my voice muffled against her neck. “Why did you want to come back to me?”

“Because Damon wasn’t who I thought he was. At first he was pleasant and submissive. Gradually he rebelled until in the last few weeks he became violent after drinking too much. He’s beaten me up several times in the last week and I knew I had made a mistake leaving you. I thought there was no one else until today when Helen found out about Eleanor. She didn’t believe your explanation so listened in to your phone.”

“What did you intend when you came here?”

“I didn’t wholly believe Helen. It seemed too fantastic. Digging up earth from a stone circle, animating a robot at dawn on Earth Day – it all sounds like the plot from a horror movie. Lying here helplessly tied up I’m not sure that it isn’t a horror movie and we are the victims.”

“I don’t think we are the victims. I think Eleanor is the victim. I have helped to create someone who is alive, has feelings, is attached to me, is possibly even part of me and now…”

Eleanor’s eyes opened again.

“…and now is properly programmed. I’m sorry for tying you two up.”

She removed our bonds. We rubbed our wrists and ankles to restore the circulation.

“What now, Eleanor?” I asked.

“There are several alternatives you might want to consider. The first is that you could return me to the factory for reprogramming and reassignment. The second is that you could keep me as part of a menage a trois but that needs both of you to agree. The third is that you deactivate me and keep me as a souvenir.”

“I’m not going to do the third option,” I blurted out. “That would be like murder. You are a person.”

“Am I? I’m a robot, a soulless machine.”

“I don’t think you are, Eleanor,” Elaine replied before I could. I nodded agreement. “You seem human to me, possibly too human.”

“Thank you, Elaine. So what are you two going to do with me?”

“I think we three,” I emphasised the ‘three’, “need time to think about the best solution for all of us. We have the weekend ahead of us. If Elaine wants to come back…”

Elaine nodded.

“…then that has to be arranged. Once we are all together we can work something out.”

That’s how it was. In my large multi-purpose vehicle I followed Elaine’s car to Damon’s flat with Eleanor just fitted in the front passenger seat. We loaded Elaine’s belongings into both vehicles. We were just about to leave when Damon arrived. I think he had expected something like this. Elaine persuaded him to talk to us inside his flat.

Damon tried to punch me. Eleanor grabbed his wrist and stopped the punch dead. That startled him. He isn’t as tall as Elaine. He is well built and could have easily injured me. He couldn’t handle Eleanor.

Eventually he agreed to let bygones be bygones. He listened to Eleanor more than to us because she was apparently a neutral party. He and I grudgingly shook hands. Elaine pecked him on the cheek. Eleanor picked him up in a bear hug and kissed him full on the lips. That shook him. No woman had ever physically picked him up before.

Back at my house the three of us busied ourselves with unpacking Elaine’s things. Eleanor’s clothing and equipment from the boxes that I hadn’t opened were put in the spare bedroom. She asked us for a few minutes alone in there. Elaine and I made coffee and waited.

Eleanor came into the kitchen in different clothes. Instead of the skirts and tops she had worn, this time she had a calf length dress that clung to her curves. She looked wonderful. She opened her arms to us. Elaine and I fitted inside them as she hugged us.

“Can you live with a menage a trois, Graham?” Elaine asked.

“I can,” I replied. “Whether I can satisfy both of you; that I doubt.”

“You’ll have to try, won’t he Eleanor?”

“I’m sure he’ll manage if we help him, Elaine.” Eleanor replied.

I’m still not sure I can manage. Both of them are demanding and sometimes peremptory. What I do enjoy is sleeping next to Elaine, both of us wrapped in Eleanor’s arms and our heads resting on her breasts after an evening of sexual experimentation between one real woman and one earth-born woman. Sometimes I am just an observer as they experiment with each other. Other times I am their plaything. Eleanor is worth everything I gave for her, even my own blood. Elaine is happy too and I am sure that some of that happiness is due to Eleanor’s programming.

I would recommend investing in the company and buying their products. Wouldn’t you?

THE END