Chapter 1

Rikersdale Preparatory Academy for Exceptional Young Men and Women.

The not so distant future...

I decided early on that Miss Proud would be my first. She had a set of qualities that made her a perfect candidate for the training program, namely an arrogant streak and a “never say die” demeanor that made her the most stubborn bitch around. If there were anyone in my school who could resist the obedience algorithms, it would be her. And in the interests of being scientific, I felt it prudent to test the limits of what the program could and could not do.

I must say however, that my particular interests in choosing her had nothing to do with her ability to resist control. They had nothing to do with the prototype at all. My interests had to do with those tight-fitting blouses she wore, and the way her ass looked when squeezed into a snug skirt and elevated so, nice and tight, by those immodest three-inch-heels. My interests in choosing Miss Proud were purely sexual.

I feel like all high school students must fantasize about fucking their teachers, the hot young ones at least, but I had it bad for Miss Proud. While not the most attractive teacher at Rikersdale High, she was the most buxom and was exactly my type: tall for a female, maybe around 5’8” or 5’9”, and thick and curvy in all the right places. In particular, her chest was magnificent, easily an E-cup, and because she was fresh out of grad school, those titanic breasts were still shapely and firm.

Looking at her, and at THEM, fucked with my head. As if I could concentrate on Ethan Frome when the best set of tits in the building were mere meters away. As if I could concentrate on anything at all, especially when she walked up and down the rows, tantalizing me with her perfume, her poise, and one of the greatest fattest asses I’d ever seen. I wanted to do things to do her, physical and sexual things, things that would shock most people. But these fantasies were things that I would never EVER actually consider doing to her outside of the simulation.

Because I wasn’t a rapist. I need to make that clear.

I can understand how some people might see what I was doing as rape, but that wouldn’t be correct. I knew that rape was about never about sex alone, but about control. Rapists wanted to dominate other people, they wanted to exert their will over others. But I had no interest in controlling another person, or in bending Miss Proud to my will. That’s what the obedience program developed by my father was for, sure, but I only saw the program as a means to an end. For my part, all I wanted to do was fuck her, and I never did so against her will. I only fucked Miss Proud when she begged me to. It was kind of like my rule. Her skin was a milky white that turned slightly pink wherever I squeezed her.

“Mr. Lovejoy, I’m talking to you!” Miss Proud snapped her fingers in front of my face, shattering my reverie. For a moment there, I’d almost believed I was still in the program with her pinned face-first against a mattress, but I’d been spending too much time in VR lately which caused a mild yet worrying disassociation with reality. I was actually still at school, still in eighth period, and Miss Proud wasn’t beneath me, but above me, scowling down at my lack of focus. “Pay attention, Deacon.” She slapped a paper onto my desk - a graded test with a big red ‘72’ on top. “Your grades depend on it.” Psssh, as if I needed her good grades to succeed...

“The other teachers might let you skate by because of your reputation,” she continued quietly, “but I don’t care who your father is or how much much money he donates to this school.” I raised my eyes to meet hers. Her gaze was steely. “Passing my class requires effort, and you’re not showing me enough of it.” She nodded at me as if she’d made her point, before resuming her walk up the row, placing other student’s graded tests upon their desks. I smiled grimly. If I’d spent half as much “effort” on this test as I did drilling you up the ass last night, I would’ve gotten 100%.

Of course, it wasn’t Miss Proud’s actual ass that I was drilling. If I followed Miss Proud out to her vehicle after school, and drilled the “real” Miss Proud’s asshole, that would, of course, be rape, and as I’ve said, I’m no rapist. No, the asshole that I drilled on a nightly basis was merely a ghost, a spectre - an exact physical projection of the real one, digitally engineered precisely down to the micrometer. That said, it still felt absolutely wonderful slipping my cock inside of it. I sometimes fucked that ass three or four times a night.

The uploaded image of Miss Proud, her “Echo,” looked and moved exactly how the real one did, but she didn’t act like her, not quite. The actual Miss Proud was a bitchy teacher, whereas her Echo did little more than moan and beg me to defile her. Because of limitations to the early model cameras, personality profiles couldn’t be fully snapped along with outer dimensions. I’d had to use a generic personality template developed by Lovejoy Industries to fill in the gaps left by the incomplete image, and the only templates my father’s company developed were for fuck toys. What this meant was that she was roughly two thirds Miss Proud, and one third sex junkie, the holes in her personality stuffed with lewd mannerisms, an obsession with dick, and an insatiable imperative to get fucked as often and as hard as possible. The result was a rather lopsided and bizarre mien, but like I said, my interests were purely sexual. My dick couldn’t tell the difference.

Miss Proud was starting to become old news anyways. I’d snapped her neuroportrait over three months ago when the camera was still in alpha-testing and was prone to errors. Some of the upload’s mannerisms and reactions seemed incorrect, for instance, and her avatar appeared somehow inauthentic and in danger of swerving into uncanny valley. The new camera in my pocket wouldn’t have those problems. My father’s engineers had worked their asses off the last two quarters, often sleeping on the laboratory floor and skipping meals. They’d made great strides in the capture quality of the lenses. Now they captured far more than just the physical, across all light spectrums. I couldn’t wait to try it out.

“And as for you, Zoey. Your effort is certainly paying off.” Miss Proud placed a test down on Zoey’s desk across the row from mine. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the ‘98’ on the top. Zoey squealed quietly in delight and high fived her friend Ariel, who sat behind her. They were probably study partners or some shit. I didn’t know. Ariel didn’t talk to me. She was entirely too popular to even know a nerd like me existed. So was Zoey, for that matter, but for some reason, she always treated me like a friend. It was probably because of who my father was.

“Excellent work young lady,” Proud continued. “Mr. Lovejoy would be wise to take a page out of your book.” Another glare. Man, that woman does NOT like me, not like her Echo does. Zoey fell quiet and blushed at the remark but still turned slightly toward me, smiling awkwardly. I smiled myself. She was agonizingly pretty.

After another fifteen minutes of lecture time, it was time for school to let out for the weekend. Like most high school students, I was antsy to get out of there, but I still had one last thing that I needed to do before I headed home. My weekend hinged on it, in fact. I caught up to Zoey at the classroom door. “Hey Zoey, wait a sec. I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor.”

Ariel was with her as always. They sat together. They ate lunch together. They walked the hallways together. They even dated two football pricks that looked exactly alike. But where Zoey was kind to me, Ariel hated my guts. Zoey turned. “Well, I guess that would depend on what the favor is, Lovejoy.” Most kids in school addressed me by my last name. “What’s up?”

We proceeded through the doorway and out in the hallway, joining the throngs of jacketed prep school students heading for their lockers. The girls walked shoulder to shoulder as always, with me in tow. “So my dad is developing this new game,” I told her. “Invictus. Have you heard of it?” She glanced over her shoulder at me and rolled her eyes.

“I think everyone in the civilised world has heard of Invictus by now, Lovejoy. That goes double for game reviewers.” She winked at me. “I know you’re a subscriber.” Zoey ran a Youtube gaming channel under the handle Gamebaby99 which covered new releases and upcoming titles. Because she was an attractive female gamer, she’d amassed a sizable following quickly, and because she actually produced unbiased quality reviews and interesting vlogs, her popularity was well-deserved. Of course I was a subscriber.

“Well,” I began. “My dad is readying to launch the beta.” Zoey stopped dead in the center of the hallway and spun around to face me, eyes wide. I nearly ran into her. Ariel sighed and walked off, leaving us to talk.

“Really?” she said. “Seriously? When?”

“Soon,” I said, smiling at her excitement. “And well ... I only have a few keys available, but I was wondering if you’d be interested in beta-testing.” She screamed loud enough to draw stares.

“Fuck yes, dude!” She said, playfully shoving me in the chest. “You know damn well I’ve been following the dev diaries for years!”

“Cool.” This was the reaction that I was hoping for. “Then I just need a quick favor.” She squinted her eyes at me.

“What favor?”

“Nothing serious,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Just a picture is all.” I retrieved the camera from my pocket, a milled aluminum cuboid with seven clustered lenses sitting flush with the front face. She eyed it warily.

“A picture?” she asked. “Is that thing a camera?” I nodded. Her reaction was typical. No one carried around actual cameras anymore unless they were trying to be retro.

“I know you’ve been following the game so you know it’s VR based,” I said. “But what hasn’t been released to the media yet is the character creation system. The game is going to launch with the ability to import custom avatars into the game based upon users’ actual appearance.” She stood motionless as I explained it to her. “My father said I could offer a beta key to anyone I wanted, but only if they were willing to test out the custom avatar mode.” She nodded slowly.

“So like, my character in game will look like me? That’s fine, I guess. How does it work? You upload a picture into the game?”

“A special picture,” I said. “It needs to be taken with this.” I gestured toward the camera in my hands. She reached for it but I held on to it. “Sorry. No one touches this but me. It’s the only working prototype in existence.”

“Oh wow.” Her pupils widened. “Okay, then. What do I do?” She glanced around her at the people passing by us. “You just need to take a picture of me? Where? Does it matter?”

“Here.” I motioned to the side of the hallway. “We can take it here, but it has to be with as little interference as possible, i.e., no others in the shot.” Zoey crossed to the side of the hallway and turned around with her back to the lockers. This was going much better than I expected. I hated having my own picture taken, especially considering what my father could do with a simple photograph, and so I’d expected a little reluctance.

But on the contrary, Zoey seemed eager to have me take a snap of her. Then again, a beta key to a game like Invictus was a very valuable incentive, especially to a Youtuber. She brushed her hair behind her ears and smiled. “Is this fine? I don’t need to pose or anything, do I?”

“No,” I said, carefully lining up the lenses to capture her entire entire upper half. Head-shots would presumably work as well, but I didn’t want to risk a faulty partial capture with my only shot. “You look great. Just ... don’t move.” I pressed the shutter button and the camera began to wind up. Because of the complicated memory structure and because of the minute detail it captured across all light spectrums, there was only enough space to take one photo, which was burned into permanent memory. But right before the snap went off, Ariel stomped back up to us and put her hand in front of the lens.

“Oh no you don’t,” she snapped, blocking the lenses. I quickly released the shutter button and the camera wound down. The shot wasn’t wasted. “I know what your dad’s company does with photos, you sick bastard.” I looked up into Ariel’s face and she was practically snarling at me. For her part, Zoey looked surprised at her language. Ariel rounded on her. “What are you doing, Zoey? Don’t you know what he can do with your picture?”

“Hey look, Ariel,” I said. “I know what you’re thinking but this isn’t about that.”

“Oh the hell it isn’t, Lovejoy.” She tried to grab the camera out of my hand but I quickly shoved it into my pocket out of reach. “I won’t let you turn my best friend into a Lovergurl!”

“Whoa whoa whoa.” Zoey stepped up behind Ariel and put herself between us like a peacekeeper. “A Lovergurl?” she said, glancing between us. “What are you talking about?”

“Ariel,” I said. “I’m not going to turn Zoey into a...”

“Shut up Deacon!” She turned back to her friend. “His dad’s company makes them,” Ariel said. “Loverboys and Lovergurls. I know you’ve heard of them.”

“Yes,” Zoey said, shyly. “Of course I’ve heard of them.” She blushed and glanced between us again. “But what does that have to do with this picture.” I crossed my arms defensively as Ariel continued.

“I read in Wired last month that now you can order Lovergurls tailor-made to resemble any girl you want. All they need is a picture.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Go ahead,” she said. “Tell me that’s not what you’re doing.”

“That’s not what he’s doing,” Zoey said, but then she turned to me and looked me up and down. “Wait. That’s not what you’re doing, is it?”

I tried my hardest to look innocent. Ariel was too smart for her own good. “That’s not what I’m doing,” I said. Ariel crossed her arms and Zoey bit her lip, unsure of me. “Look, it’s true that my dad’s company is expanding the Lovedolls into lookalike models. But it’s just an offshoot of the technology he’s developing. I just told you about the VR capabilities of Invictus, Zoey. That kind of avatar capture technology took a fortune to develop and Lovejoy Toys would be insane not to repurpose it for the Lovedolls division.”

“Eww,” Zoey said. “Your dad makes sex dolls that look like real people now?”

“Well yes,” I said, trying to back-peddle. “But this isn’t about Lovedolls at all. This is about Invictus!”

“Oh whatever, dude,” Ariel said. “I’ve seen the way you look at us. You’ve wanted Zoey ever since you transferred here six months ago. I know you do.”

“No I don’t!” I said, lying my ass off. “I mean, she’s OK looking, I guess, but...”

“OK-looking?” Zoey said, narrowing her eyes. “Really dude? I’m OK-looking?”

I held up my hands in surrender. “Look. I was just trying to be nice and offer you a beta-key. But if you’re both gonna sit here and accuse me of shit that I didn’t even do, then I’m gone. I don’t need this.” I turned to leave, cursing my bad luck. But luckily, Zoey called out to me after only a few steps.

“No. Deacon, wait a sec.” I smiled to myself and slowed my steps. She jogged to catch up, thankfully leaving Ariel behind her. “Dude, hang up a second. Stop.” I stopped and turned to her.

“Do you or do you not want a beta-key?” I said.

“I do,” she said. She squeezed her backpack straps, looking worried. “But do you really need my picture?”

“It’s for Invictus!” I said. “My dad was very clear about beta-keys only going to people who would help him test out the avatar capture tech.” I took out the camera again. “Look. This device only interfaces with the game-design division. My dad compartmentalizes his business for security. The whole Lovedolls thing is an entirely separate sub-company that I have nothing to do with and couldn’t even access if I tried.” She still seemed unsure. “Come on, Zoey. I’m sixteen years old. Do you really think my dad would let me work with Lovedolls?”

“I guess not,” she said. “You promise this is just for the game?”

“I promise.” I said. She smiled a bit.

“Nothing else?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” I put on my best innocent face and hoped it was enough. I knew she wanted that beta-key but was it enough? “C’mon,” I urged her. “I know you want to try it.” She hesitated only a few seconds longer but then finally rolled her eyes.

“Alright fine.” she backed up again next to the lockers. “Just take the picture. And do it quickly before Ariel comes and stops you again.” I lined up the device as quickly as I could and pressed the shutter. It whirred up for a second and flashed. I felt it vibrate in my hand as the image was burned into memory, and my heart started to beat faster as I realized that I had Zoey Dasch’s image, her entire neuro-image, in my hands.

“You got it?” she asked.

“I got it.” I quickly reversed my bag and tucked the camera away securely within. “I’ll send you beta access within a few days, once we get this image uploaded.”

“A few days? That long?” She frowned. “You better. I’ll be waiting for it.” She walked closer to me and narrowed her eyes, speaking softly. “And just so we’re clear, Lovejoy, if you turn me into a Lovedoll, I’ll fucking kill you, understand?” I couldn’t help but laugh but she was nothing if not serious. She smiled in a way that kind of scared me. “OK-looking my ass.” She turned around and sauntered off, looking so much better than just OK. I swallowed heavily and did my best to cover the raging erection that had developed in my slacks.

After visiting my locker, I walked out past the bus stop into the school lot where my driver was parked. I walked a bit faster, knowing what awaited me once I could get the camera home and into the lab. “Afternoon sir,” my driver Courtney said as I climbed into the backseat. “Straight home or would you like to stop somewhere for coffee?” I did most of my coding in the afternoons and often needed a pick-me-up, but not today.

“No stops today,” I told her. “Just take me to the lab, and make it fast.”

“The lab?” she asked, turning in her seat to face me. “You do remember that the gala is tonight, right? I’m sure your father would prefer you back at home immediately to get ready.”

“Shit,” I said. “The gala ... I’d forgotten that was tonight.” My father, Gordon Lovejoy, was one of the most successful tech developers this side of Silicon Valley and thus had many obligations. He was always going to banquets and parties and usually dragged my mother and I along for PR reasons. “Damn. Well, take me to the lab, anyways. I’ll only be a minute.”

“As you say, sir.” She pulled away from the curb. As a loyal household servant, it wasn’t in her nature to question me any further. It wasn’t in her programming, that is.

Lovejoy Laboratories wasn’t far from my home. In fact, it was possible to travel from my home directly into the laboratory a mile away via an underground tram system. Even so, I had Courtney drop me off at the lab entrance instead of my home. This gala would take up most of my night, but I still was determined to see whether or not the new camera tech would work. I glanced at my watch. I still had a little bit of time.

I raced through the hallways, using my personal keycard to proceed through the checkpoints. Gaining access to the secure Lovedoll Factory, however, wasn’t so simple. I was being honest when I told Zoey that my father didn’t want me working on the Lovedolls. He really didn’t, probably because he correctly presumed that if he did, I’d waste all of my time fucking androids. More was expected from the tycoon’s son and heir, and so my keycard didn’t grant me access into the production wing. Luckily, I had a workaround.