Reality Synths, Inc.

Credit: Avery Hartranft,

“Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” The pressure around his penis was tight and moist. The rhythm was mesmerizing. Up, down. Up, down. Fred looked down and saw the tightly shorn head of the co-worker moving up and down at his midsection. Fred tilted his head back in exultation. He stared at the ceiling of the non-descript hotel room. “Almost! Almost!” He grabbed the shoulders of the other man, pulling him tighter as his midsection coiled while his loins prepared to explode. The cleanly cut hair he looked down on gave way to Logan, a thirty-something man from his department that he’d had a crush on for a little while. Logan’s sky blue eyes locked with Fred’s. And then it all came together. He felt the sensation course through his whole body, the magical ejaculation. He felt the wonderful shudder of the full-body sensation as he looked up at the innocuous, white ceiling before blinking his eyes closed again. In that instant, Fred woke up…. all a dream. Felix, the dog, was nestled between his legs and licking his thigh instead. Fred immediately felt bashful, certainly weird, at the thought of unconscious bestiality.

“Babe, are you ok? You alright?” Fred looked over and saw his boyfriend, Mario, leaning over his shoulder, peering up over his pillow; over his shoulder checking on him.

‘What? Yeah? Oh, I was just sleeping. I’m awake,” Fred said, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh, well you were moaning. You sounded in pain. Like someone was torturing you. I woke up when I heard it. You were kind of twisting. Definitely moaning.”

“Oh, was I? I don’t remember. Can’t imagine what was happening. Maybe a dream,” Fred said. He put his hand down around his midsection and felt his little paunch of a belly. He shifted slightly so he could see Mario. As he did, he felt the wetness below. He pushed his hand further down and could feel the remnants of the wet dream — a dream he clearly did remember: those cobalt eyes of Logan’s, the well combed hair — even the cheap white paint of the cheap hotel room of cheap sex — quite a fantasy indeed. “No, babe. Can’t imagine what it was,” Fred repeated. Then he thought of the dream, the embarrassing ejaculation more likely caused by the dog licking at his thigh. He wanted to change out of his pajamas right away before Mario figured it out too.

“Oh, well, I will say it was kind of a sweet moaning, Baby,” Mario said as he massaged the exposed shoulders and chest of Fred while they looked at each other from within their thick duvet, Mario’s light brown fingers blending in with the warm beige colors of the bedding. “I mean, I think I could make you moan like that. I feel like that might be the best way to start a Friday.” Marios’s lips moved close to Fred’s ear. Then Mario tried to push his hand down to Fred’s midsection.

As Mario’s fingers reached Fred’s belly, Fred leapt out of bed, “Oh, oh, well. Hang on. I really have to go to the bathroom… um, actually.”

“Ok. You go and then hurry back,” Mario encouraged him as Fred quickly wriggled out of bed and stumbled awkwardly to the adjoining bathroom. He had hunched at the midsection, pushing his pants out as far as he could to try and hide his erection like he was back in high school.

“Uh, yeah. Yes. Let’s maybe try that,” Fred said as he skirted to the bathroom, taking off one set of clothes and looking in the hamper for another set of pajamas. He saw a pair and then began to pee. He made sure to pee loudly in the water so that Mario knew what he was doing. But upon finishing, Fred was confused about what might happen next. He thought, “I certainly want a blow job. Yes. Please, another blow job. But I just came… am I going to be able to cum again? Is that cheating on Mario by dreaming about someone else? I mean, what am I going to tell Mario if I can’t cum? Well, I guess I’ll worry about that if I can’t cum. I certainly will take the blowjob first. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll have the time to think of an excuse while it’s happening. Yeah. Change pants. Go back. Get the blow job. Yes.” Fred finished reasoning it all out and then put the other pair of pajamas on and went back out to where Mario sat upright in bed waiting for him.

“Um, didn’t you have other pajama bottoms on when you went into the bathroom?” Mario asked.

“I did… I did.” Fred said not realizing Mario would notice. “I peed on them. Gross. Clumsy morning. Had to change them.”

“Well, it won’t matter, babe. Come here. Let’s get all the pants off of you.” At which point Fred got back into bed and got ready for one of the more confusing and embarrassing blow jobs he could think of, certainly a continuation of what was already a strange situation. But it was still a blow job. In the end, Fred conveniently decided that dreams aren’t cheating. If he had to get another blow job, he had to get another blow job. And, as it turned out, he didn’t have too much trouble cumming a second time.

Fred settled into his office later that morning at the house. His desk was set up so that behind his monitor was the house’s backyard. Fred often caught himself daydreaming, looking out at the trees swaying. Fred was sitting back in his chair as one of his meetings came to an end. Logan, the co-worker who had appeared in his morning dream earlier, was finishing off the last of his weekly report for that Friday morning. Now that work was mostly virtual and office jobs were almost completely remote, Fred was spared any of the awkwardness from any in-person bashfulness; embarassment at having dreamt of fallatio the night before with his co-worker. Still, he felt awkward and scientifically it registered, as told by his biological data feed registering on his work monitors. Since, Fred was looking through his information feeds, his work screen synced with his internal body and biomarker chips, the information reporting his corresponding biometers — heart rate, blood pressure, breath count, oxygen levels, lung capacity. His anxious and awkward feelings translated into an unusually increased pulse, elevated blood pressure, less oxygen intake on each breath. The devices told him that his rhythms were abnormal, which made him more bashful since the meeting, although ending, had made him feel uneasy. “Tell me something I don’t know,” Fred thought looking again at his bioreadings.

As the meeting ended and Fred took a sigh of relief at his home-office desk, he glanced through the news of the day as they related to his personal investments and other curiosities: solar energy futures; latest public patent filings going straight to market; avatar baseball scores. Those feeds gave way to one of the many targeted advertisements he would see online during the day. While he ignored most, this one caught his attention: “Style or Substance? Are you missing one in your life? Create the lover of your dreams!!! Have both. Style is Substance. Substance is style. REALITY SYNTHS, Inc. Give us a try today!”

“Style or substance?” Fred thought to himself as he looked back out the window and let his mind wander, “I mean, I thought I had style AND substance in this relationship. Mario is so loving. And he listens to me, and we have great talks all the time. But still, why am I bored with this? Dreams about blow jobs from strange men?… not even. My coworker.” His mind drifted lasciviously off again thinking about the blue eyes and cute face of Logan. Then he snapped back to attention in his office chair, “That’s not substance. Shit, that’s barely style. I’m not 30 anymore. I don’t need those risky bathroom stalls in dark bars with guys whose faces I never see… But… the lover of my dreams.” Fred went back to the ad and kept looking over the bouncing graphics on his info-feed.

He was having the toughest time concentrating. He couldn’t seem to engage with work that Friday morning. Work had been tough for him for a while. Even though he liked marketing and business development things had been flat at the office. His boss was going through a tough time at home and had been distant as a manager. Fred worked at a virtual reality training service. They made programs and simulations that let workers train for a variety of different events in order to upgrade their skill set. Lately, highly specialized, in person, one-on-one trainings had become more popular. In fact, virtual experiences were becoming less and less popular.

This was echoed in the deals that Fred had been working on for work, those having gone a little flat. Everyone wanted integrated life experiences now. There was a real demand for returning to role playing experiences as if this were the 20th century. Now, in the early 22nd century, virtual reality experiences and shared gaming had almost become boring. The computer facilitation of pre-programmed life experiences were too predictable. The virtual experiences of travelling to ancient sites, or interactive games — even sexual fantasies — had lost a certain excitement because the outcomes were always so optimal and perfect. There was a new push now for collective experience making.

Much of this had to do with recent advancements in science allowing humanity to move on from the recent history of viruses, super-bacteria epidemics, extreme weather, and poor infrastructure were being better controlled of late through science, enhanced wealth taxation and more eco-friendly human habits. in 2143, vaccines and gene therapy over the last few decades had the greatest effect on society, and environmentally the world was finally becoming more like the early 20th century instead of the late 21st century. People were getting together in greater concentrations now, whether in small enclosed bars or large stadiums with thousands of people. Entertainment was returning to a focus on human-to-human contact. People were hosting dinner parties, going on group trips together, or chartering planes and taking cruises. So in the virtual training industry in which Fred worked, business was getting slower. He still worked at a good company making a good virtual product. But the research and especially development which enhanced their products had, over the last year, slowed down. And with his boss not fully engaged because of his own personal issues, Fred had also started disengaging.

There at his desk, Fred clicked open the Reality Synths, Inc. link and started to look through their offerings. At that moment Mario popped his head into the office and Fred nervously clicked off the screen, “Whatcha doin’, Babe?” Mario asked innocuously. But Fred’s guilty conscience almost gave him away.

“Oh, nothing!” Fred fumbled with the screen to try and bring up some old spreadsheet to make it look like he was working. “Just, you know, getting some numbers right before… the weekend. Just wanna get some head… I mean, you know, get ahead. Sorry.”

Mario chuckled at the Freudian slip and then walked quietly into the office and massaged Fred’s shoulders as the dog came in with him. “That does look so boring.” Luckily Fred had put up the spreadsheet so that the only thing one could see was the sheet and his biomarker numbers. But Fred continued to feel embarrassed about the morning dream with Logan from work so his biolevels shot up and sent a message onto his computer screen about his heart rate still being elevated. Mario saw the elevated levels, “You must still be thinking about this morning, Baby. I liked that too. I’m glad you’re still exited,” while he moved his hands lower down onto Fred’s chest and stomach. It didn’t help that the dog was also resting at Fred’s feet licking at his toes again, like he had at this thigh this morning.

In his discomfort, Fred pushed the dog away, “Yep, boring. Definitely. Hey. Um, hey, Babe, they’re watching at work maybe. Camera’s on.” Fred said as he flicked off the computer screen and removed Mario’s hands from his torso. Then he turned around to talk to Mario. “What’s going on with you?”

“I don’t know. You seemed distant this morning.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?” Fred responded defensively.

“Well, now is probably not the best time to talk about it. I have to get ready for tonight’s event, and you’re working.”

“Talk about what?”

Mario paused. He held the silence on his tongue like water in a glass. He hesitated. He tried to say nothing. In the end he finally said, “We’re not doing great, Sweetie. You’re not happy at work, and you’re distant here at home. I’m working these functions at night, and we don’t get to spend as much time together. You get the weekends off, and if I’m lucky I get one weekend night off a week.”

“So we’re both working a lot. I get it.”

“Well that’s what I mean — we’re not really talking about stuff. We’re not totally with each other anymore. Don’t act like you can’t sense it. Sure, it’s nice to mess around in the mornings. But where were you this morning? I could just tell… it felt… well, like you were somewhere else.”

“I was with you. I thanked you afterwards.”

“Ok, ok. This conversation isn’t a good one to have right now. It’s ok. I’m around all weekend. Can we talk about this tomorrow?… when we’re both around for the day? I just want to talk to you, to Fred, for real, without, like, a lot of noise and work around us.”

“Sure,” Fred said and Mario put his hands back on Fred’s shoulders tenderly.

“You know I love you,” Mario then said as he started out of the room.

“I know you do.”

“Aaaaaand?…” Mario stood at the door for a moment waiting for the obvious reply, the one that would properly end the conversation.

“I love you, too,” Fred said. And with that Mario left the room, the conversation part of a growing tension between them. But it was a busy Friday for each of them. It was not the time to have a deeper discussion.

Since Mario was working a function that night, doing a fancy and intimate presentation at a high dollar value political function for some party donors out on Catalina Island, Fred would have the house to himself back in Malibu. Fred thought about the empty house and couldn’t help himself as he drifted back into his computer there in his office.

He went back to the Reality Synths site not less than two minutes after Mario had finished trying to explain that they needed to talk about the dysfunction in their relationship. But Fred’s mind was adrift about Logan and the morning dream, and about the things he felt he was missing because of the almost overly comfortable, domestic relationship with Mario. His discomfort must have come from the comfort, ironically, his mind busy with all those frustrations. He couldn’t find a way to think about anything other than what he wanted.

Back online, safely inside his computer screen, Fred sorted his settings and preferences on the website. Reality Synths offered real people with altered features. Because of the new demand to have real, human connections, Reality Synths actually employed people specifically as “companions”. Apparently they had very specifically educated and trained individuals come to a customer’s house. Through their technology and training, you could request any type of companion. This was done with visual replications via makeup and prosthetics. Non-binary, adrongenous individuals willing to work in the regulated sex industry were hired to work as Reality Synth companions and would come made to order, providing a real, human experience for customers.

Need a woman for intercourse? The sex worker was provided a suit that included a vagina and breasts. Need a young man for a date to a party or an online function? Reality Synths would send a clean cut, smooth-faced “male-looking” person to spend the evening with you. That wasn’t all though. These workers were highly educated with degrees in literature, education, science or technology — engineers, biologists, journalists. According to the site they were all required to have masters degrees in mental health as well to provide the most conscientious and fulfilling mental experience. That of course came with a hefty price tag. Still, in this moment in time, Reality Synths provided a novel service that was beyond the distant, cold and less sensual effects of a virtual experience.

For Fred, cost was not the issue and in his impetuousness, he quickly and selfishly ordered a very well-educated and buff man at a pricey premium from the Reality Synths’ website. He specifically asked for someone that could discuss mid-20th century American literature with him as he liked to back in his university days. He wanted a long night of dinner and conversation followed by some passionate sex afterwards. In short, he really just wanted to have dinner, dessert and a blow job. And he hoped that could all be accomplished before midnight so that he could have the house cleaned up by 2am when Mario said he would be home. Fred realized that this time he would really be cheating on Mario, unlike the dream this morning and in complete contravention to the brief discussion Mario had just tried to have with him. Fred went ahead with the order anyway. As he clicked send, the dog had meandered back into the room and was laying at his feet gently licking his ankles again. Felix just couldn’t get enough of Fred that day.

Some time not long after that Fred went down to the kitchen for lunch.

“I’ll be back around 2, ok?” Mario said as he was putting on his catering outfit fresh from the laundry. I need to be at the heliport in 40 minutes. So I just want plenty of time to make it there — I can’t miss the flight. It is a nice touch that they chartered a helicopter out there for us.”

“Alright, well have fun. I’ll see you later.” They kissed and Mario left with all his gear in his freshly pressed work clothes.

After making a quick sandwich Fred hopped back up to his office, finished up some work, and then went and got in the shower a little while later. His Reality Synths date was set to arrive at 5p.m. The date was supposed to last about six hours from start to finish. He spent some time trimming hair here and shaving other hair there. In the closet he pulled out his tightest fitting jeans and a shirt that held his torso just right. He was fit and liked to show off his lean physique. He had a neo-retro paisley shirt on, a cotton top but made like a 1970’s disco shirt with an extra sized collar. He was muscular so he had a nice shape. A lot of people had complimented him on that shirt and since Fred hadn’t been dressed up for someone new in some time he was excited to wear it. Despite not wearing any underwear, he tucked the shirt into his jeans. When the knock came at the door he darted down stairs, clean shaven and almost aerodynamic enough to fly. As he went to answer the door he had to shove Felix and his excited, shaking tail away from it first.

When the door opened he saw the most voluptuous and beautiful young woman. Head to toe she stuck out from her chest and butt and her waist was almost as thin as her neck on which she rested a most beautifully young face. “Who are you?!?!,” Fred asked.

“I’m your Reality Synth, you ordered me for tonight.”

“But you’re a woman.”

“Well, I can be made to be anything you want me to be. But you ordered a woman.”

“I most certainly did not order a woman.”

“Are you sure? My order receipt reads that you ordered a voluptuous, young blonde. I have other gear in case. I bring any of my attire and equipment but yeah,” she said looking at her digital order form that projected from her wrist device, “this is definitely an order for a ‘woman’.”

Fred pulled up the order on his own wrist looking at the full specification list. He showed her the order which specifically said that he had ordered a young and buff man for dinner and “other” activities.

“Wait, wait. I see the issue. Here it is.” She put their image projections side by side, “My delivery date is three days from now. I was requested for this address for Monday night.”

“This address?”

“Yes. I show that I was sent with the wrong date. These things happen. Hang on a second…. ‘Synth Supervisor’,” she said in to her wrist device at which point she started talking to what Fred assumed was her supervisor. “Yes? A glitch? I mean… Well, I’ve been set up for tonight’s affairs… he wanted a man…. He’s on his way? Ok. I’ll explain the mix up to him.” Fred sat there, his mind racing, his mouth agape. “Well, Sir… so that explains it. We had an order for this address, which asked for me and my services on Monday night. But don’t worry. Tonight’s order will be here shortly. I’m sorry for the confusion.”

“But I didn’t order you.”

“Are you not Mx. Mario Stennet?”

“That is my partn, my roommate, my… I’m Fred McDowell. I’m not…”

“Oh, I see. No judgements here, of course. Still, I’m very sorry Mx. McDowell. My supervisor says that I’m able to stay tonight free of charge if you want me as well. Then you can have both orders at the same time. We are trained for all sorts of interaction. If you want me to work with your other order, that is not a problem. Just tell us what you want.”

“I just wanted to try out your service tonight. But I ordered a man.”
“Yes, of course. And we’re happy to provide all our options… in fact, here is your original order for tonight now.” At that moment a vehicle pulled up and out came a very handsome man. His shirt looked tight. His jeans also tight. He was young with a cut jaw and broad, muscular shoulders — very handsome indeed.

“Crap. The neighbors are going to see all of this commotion. And Mario… dammit — Mario!” he whispered sternly to himself. “Both of you, please come in will you? You,” he motioned to the “man” coming out of the vehicle, “come in quickly please to discuss this. And you too.” He brought both of them into the house. “What am I going to do with both of you?” He finally asked as he closed the door behind them. He pointed them to the living room couch. “Felix! Get off the couch!” he motioned to the dog as they went to sit down. The dog cautiously eked his way off the couch as the two walked over to sit down and discuss the mistake.

They looked at each other and the “woman” spoke again, “You are able to use both of us at no charge. We can work together. We are trained to meet all your needs. Or if you need one of us to change, I have my male uniform or I can also use my androgynous suit with no discerning characterists. You also read about our hermaphrodite abilities. We both have gear in order to accommodate you.”

“I don’t have that many needs. I just wanted dinner with another man this evening.”

“Are you sure you don’t want both of us?” she asked again. “I mean the concept of sex is so antiquated. Like our service says, we are well educated and trained to handle any mental health or anxiety issues. This is not, of course, to say that you have any ‘issues’ only that if you feel like you want to try or experience a variety of pleasures we are happy to help. And in that vein, if you wanted a ‘man’ tonight, well, I can change quickly so that we are both ‘men’. Are you sure you don’t want both of us.”

“Why do you keep asking that?!” Fred asked irritatedly.

“We only want to ensure the highest satisfaction.”

The new, male model looked up, confused by the back and forth, “I realize there’s an issue but what exactly is the problem? My order shows a young, gay male with a literature background was ordered to this address tonight.”

“Indeed. That’s correct. Apparently I was ordered for Monday but that was by someone else who I think lives here… but who is not here now. But you were ordered afterwards and the resulting orders were confused by our system so we were both sent out tonight.”

“And he doesn’t want us both?”

“No! I don’t want you both.” Fred stammered.

“But you ordered us both?” the male model asked.

“I did not order you both! My partner ordered you.” He emphasized pointing to the female model.

“That certainly is awkward,” the male model said. He looked at the female model, “You spoke to the supervisor?”

“Yes, tonight’s supervisor said that Mx. McDowell, him,” she pointed at Fred, “is not paying for our services. We are working gratis tonight. That’s why he’s been offered both of our services for the evening.”

The male model looked back not at all understanding the dilemma, “And he doesn’t want both of us for the night.”

“She is here by mistake!” Fred stammered pointing to the woman.

“Sir, with all due respect, although I present tonight as a ‘her’ or a ‘she’ I am not that at all. I prefer the more broadly encompassing ‘they/them’ pronouns, I encourage you to do the same because it creates greater pleasure and less cognitive dissonance if you want me to ‘become’ male’,” the Reality Synth employee said using finger quotations to emphasize their point. “That way, if you want to use us both, if you want two ‘men’ tonight, your mind will be less distracted with how I may have originally presented myself based on the ordering snafu. I will instead just be a person — a person here to please you. That would be the best way to consider us, not as binary, if you’re going to use us both.”

“Again, I am not going to use you bo… oh, what’s the use?! This has gotten a little too complicated. I just wanted a little tryst for the even…” Fred spun around as Felix ran to the door, his tail wagging again in excitement. This was the usual reaction Fred saw from Felix when Mario was about to come home. Fred’s heart leapt with a crushing anxiety as he realized things were turning from bad to worse. The door handle jiggled and Mario walked in to see all three of them standing there in the living room.

Mario stood there, frozen, staring at both of the Reality Synths. He held his hand up and then said forcefully, “Who are all you people? Fred… are you fucking cheating on me???!!!”

“I’m cheating on you?” Fred lobbed back.

“Who the hell are these people?!”

“What are you doing back so early anyway?!”

“What does that matter?! You’re cheating on me!”

“This woman is for you she said!” Fred shot back at Mario.

“For me what?”

“You tell me!”

The ‘woman’ spoke up, “This is a little awkward and beyond us despite our advanced levels of training and the accompanying regulations required for us to perform this work. As I said, we’re not charging you for this evening. But at this point we will see ourselves out. But please, do call Reality Synths for all your in person needs — we do everything your virtual reality cannot. We hope you both have a great evening.” Then the ‘man’ and ‘woman’ models slid out the front door as Mario and Fred looked at each other in shock and frustration.

“I knew you were cheating on me?” Mario said.

“I have never cheated on you…. Wait, what? You ordered a woman to come on Monday.”

“Because you were cheating on me.”

“I wasn’t cheating on you.”

“Then what was that that JUST left the house,” Fred stammered pointing to the recently closed door.

“That was a person, Fred. I needed someone to talk to! I needed a person to talk to.”

“Her?!”

“She was very pretty. I wanted someone pretty to talk to that I wouldn’t feel any attraction to. You didn’t check her service request, did you?”

“She said she was supposed to be here Monday night when I have to attend the monthly board meeting.”

“Yes. To talk to! You’re projecting all your guilt right now. Reality Synth is real people, they’re professionally trained. They come for a variety of issues. I asked for someone I could talk to. You’ve been so distant. You’re worried about your job because things are slow. Maybe you’re worried about us. Like I said this morning, we’re not talking! You haven’t been interested in me…. I didn’t know who I could talk to. We share all our friends. I wanted someone real who I could just talk through our stuff with. I needed to vent.”

“Just to ve???…”

“Wait… Wait!” Mario reasserted himself, “You were going to cheat on me! You’ve either been cheating on me or you were going to cheat on me.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What was… that?” Now Mario was motioning to the door. He stood askance pointing back at the door through which the two Reality Synths had left. “You were going to cheat on me tonight.”

“Well, I didn’t. You came home early.”

“What the fuck does that mean? If the event hadn’t just been cancelled I wouldn’t have been home early. We got to the island, found out there was some internal disagreement and they cancelled the whole event. They paid us anyway but they sent us right back here on the helicopter.” Mario was now realizing that Fred was gaslighting him to an extent, “I promise you I did nothing wrong. I just wanted a real person to talk to about our relationship. That is in black and white, it’s on the request form and receipt, I’m sure. But I get home and you’ve got Hunky McHunkerstan in our living room. I can only imagine what you had planned. Is it what you had planned in your dream last night when you woke up with those cumstained shorts?”

“How do you know they were cumstained?”

“Ha! I thought so. You wouldn’t let me touch you. And you were moaning in your dream like you do when we’re having sex. I knew you were having a wet dream.”

“But that was just a dream!”

“Don’t change the subject on me, Fred — what was that thing doing in our living room tonight!?”

“I guess, I just wonder where we are.”

“You wonder where we are, Fred?”

“Recently, I find myself searching our relationship for something more. Some more style… or maybe a little more substance.”

“You think that little boy you brought in is substance? Bitch, please.”

“Well, I mean, it is style. Look at me tonight. I’m all dressed up and ready to go.”

“You could be dressed up and ready to go with me though! With me! Rather than those dirty dreams you’re waking up from, we could be figuring out where our style is… or at least, where it’s gone!”

“You have to admit, Mario, something is wrong. You brought in another person just to listen to you complain and worry about our relationship.” Fred stepped over and grabbed Mario by the shoulders.

“Well, I know we’ve been doing a lot of the virtual reality lately — even though it’s sort of gone out of vogue. Someone else told me about Reality Synths. How it was real. But our more consistent use of virtual realism just shows how little we’ve wanted to be with each other. I mean, I haven’t been using it for sex that much but I know that we’re not focused on being very real with each other any more.” Mario started to tear up slightly, “This is what I wanted to talk to you about this afternoon. This is what we need to discuss. But like this?…” Mario’s voice trailed off and a tear fell down his cheek. He was visibly hurt at this point.

“I’m not sure,” Fred said, “I have been distant lately with work, you’re right. Things are slow and I’m unmotivated. I know you’ve been working a lot too. I guess I feel like we’re missing something fun between us.”

“Something real could be nice — some actual experience between us.”

“Well, what could that be?”

Mario looked back at the door where the Reality Synths had left just some five minutes ago. “That boy was real cute, wasn’t he,” Mario said sheepishly.

“They say Reality Synths come with no strings attached. Just a real experience for the moment. Then they move on.”

“They move on?”

“No strings attached.”

“You think they would come back?” Mario asked.

“We could ask them. The ‘woman’ said she could do whatever. ‘They’ can even be a ‘man’. We just have to ask. Because of the mistake in the order their supervisor said they’re paid for for the evening already. Let me actually check in with their service and…” as Fred went to check his wrist to make the call he opened the door. Both of the Reality Synths were still standing there waiting for their rides to return and pick them up. They looked back at Fred and as he asked, “Um, we had a bit of a discussion. Are we still able to utilize your services for the evening?”

“Yes. We are cleared for the night to work here in your house.”

“Well, do you think we could maybe change things up some?”

“That is one of our best functions as real people and not virtual programs that might need some external reprogramming. We are able to work closely with you to reconfigure any experience… in the ‘flesh’ if you will, not just in a machine.”

Fred looked back at Mario who had come to the door, Felix there at his feet wagging his tail excitedly. Fred returned his attention to the models, “Well, we were thinking you might be able to help us with ‘dinner’ and who knows whatever else,” he said motioning to the female model. “And then, we think we might both like to work with you this evening… in accordance with my original order… is that possible?”

The man looked at the woman and nodded. “Give us two minutes to adjust the record of the order for work and accounting purposes — purely administrative of course. Then we will come in and make any changes you want. I’m happy to get out my ‘female’ outfit. Honestly, I prefer it. I’ll just need a few minutes to turn some things around and square myself away. But we are happy to try and help everyone get this all worked out to ‘their’ satisfaction.”

The following Monday work was slow again for Fred. Logan was making another presentation on a customer call. But this time Logan and his smoldering blue eyes did little for Fred. Felix was back slowly licking his feet and Fred himself was revisiting the weekend reminiscing on how he and Mario had stayed in all weekend just lounging on leftovers from Friday’s dinner, making love and snuggling, talking about the intimate and adventurous time they had had on Friday night with the Reality Synths — four boys, no rules, just a lot of touching and sweating. But no, Logan was not really on his mind today. Reality Synths, Inc. had been so accommodating and pleasant. The experience was one that had brought Mario and Fred closer together. They had dubbed it the “Style and Substance” weekend, in fact. At that moment, in the boredom of work, Fred went on to the Reality Synths, Inc. customer interface while Logan droned on and on about their new alternative to virtual reality offerings in regards to employee training. Instead Fred was thinking of making another Reality Synths order. While he pondered it he again thought lovingly on the fun he Mario had Friday. In that moment Fred took a moment to write a glowing customer review for the new reality-based human interactive interpersonal service. He just couldn’t say enough good things about Reality Synths, Inc.