Desireprint: Lila's Birthday Gift
Copyright© 2026 by rustbecci
Chapter 4
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 4 - Lila Hart wants to surprise her husband. She builds a Desireprint based on herself, just slightly improved and slightly more sexually adventurous.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Consensual NonConsensual Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Science Fiction Humiliation Anal Sex Oral Sex AI Generated
Marcus Reed sat alone in his one-bedroom apartment on the lower mid-levels, the kind of place where the walls were thin enough to hear your neighbor’s arguments and the air recycler never quite cleared the smell of burnt synth-food. He was quiet at work—too quiet, people said. Resentful, maybe. Lila Hart, his boss at Nexus Media, had reprimanded him twice in the last month: once for a missed deadline, once for “insufficient initiative.” She’d said it in that clipped, professional tone she used with everyone, but to Marcus it felt personal. Like she was looking down at him.
He’d always fantasized about her. Not just sex—though yes, that too—but the idea of her noticing him. Wanting him. Submitting to him. The fantasies had grown darker after the second reprimand. He’d started searching late at night, falling down forums and dark-web threads until he found Desireprint.
The site loaded slowly, black background, neon-green text. He created an account with a burner ID, paid the entry fee in untraceable creds, and started a new profile.
Name: Lila Hart (my cunt boss)
He entered her email, full name and some other details he knew and used the pictures from the company website to create the profile for his boss.
He clicked “Generate.”
The progress bar barely moved before it jumped.
Profile completeness: 100%
DNA profile: complete
Social media profiles indexed
100+ images indexed
10+ hours of audio and video processed
Marcus stared at the screen, heart thudding. “What the fuck...”
He opened the preview.
The 3D render spun slowly. He looked at the high 3D definition of his boss, naked. Yeah, It was her. The face, the hair, even the breast size seemed correct to him. Not bad for a woman her age, he thought. He zoomed in on her vagina. She seemed to trim more than he would have guessed.
For a moment, he wondered where this data came from, and how it had been so readily available. Where did they get the DNA? Medical records? A discarded coffee cup? He didn’t know. He didn’t care.
He booked the session. 2 hours. Adult mode. Full access.
The knock came at 9:15 p.m.—sharp, precise, exactly on time. Marcus opened the door, heart hammering against his ribs.
Sim Lila stood there in the hallway’s dim sodium light, dressed exactly as he knew her from the office: charcoal sheath dress hugging her hips, low neckline just modest enough for Nexus Media’s dress code, black heels polished to a shine. Her hair was pinned in the same low knot she wore on Mondays, a few strands deliberately loose to frame her face. She looked like she’d just stepped out of a team meeting—professional, untouchable, perfect. Except now she was here, in his apartment, looking at him with Lila’s eyes.
“Come in,” Marcus said, voice rougher than he intended.
She stepped inside without a word, heels clicking softly on the worn laminate. The door closed behind her with a quiet snick. Marcus locked it, fingers trembling slightly.
He swallowed. “Undress.”