The joy derived by observation of the automaton or zashiki karakuri can only be increased by the realization that the perfection of movement is totally focused upon gratifying the very particular individual's highly personal physical and spiritual pleasure. The display whether singular or repetitive free or contrived is indicative that the recipient Daimyo is indeed the center of the performers known universe.
Wanda awoke as always exactly at six forty five a.m. The heavy damask curtains in her bedroom kept almost all of the early light from the room but just enough crept around the edges to assure her it was morning without having to glance towards the Henri Jacob Brass Repeater Carriage Clock ticking away silently on the bedside table.
She lay very much in the same position as she had fallen asleep, her right leg flung over the body pillow that she always spooned and her left hand still pressed hard against her pelvic bone where it had fallen still after the intense orgasm she had exorcised from deep within herself the previous evening. Her fingertips grazed against her vaginal lips and she was surprised to find them still a little puffy. She nuzzled her face into the soft down filled mound and sighed contentedly. It was Saturday and work was two days away.
"Maybe just a few more minutes."
She whispered the words into the linen as she pressed an open mouthed kiss on her imaginary companions face.
"Just a few more minutes please Daimyo."
Two hours later she was awoken by the buzz of the intercom. Quickly slipping on a kimono retrieved from the velvet upholstered nursing chair by the bedroom door she made her way barefooted to the elevator.
"Miss Ringsome there is a parcel that's just been delivered by cycle courier. Its marked urgent."
Wanda was a little disappointed that the voice wasn't Chad but only Elaine the day receptionist.
"Could you please sent the elevator down and I will put in the package, your mail and newspaper."
Wanda turned the key and pushed the down button and heard the whir of the cables as her connection with the outside world descended.
"Coffee, I need coffee."
The Starbucks Verismo V-585 sat on the kitchens central island awaiting Wanda's pleasure. The pod was already in place so in just fifteen seconds there was her favorite espresso perfectly prepared. The soft click of the elevators return bought her back from her caffeine muse and she padded across the marbled floor and opened the sliding doors.
The package was small and sat happily on top of a collection of bills, junk mail and Friday's edition of the London Daily Telegraph. Wanda quickly sorted the pile into some sort of order and dropping two circulars, both from pizza delivery companies, into the elevator trash bin returned to the kitchen and her coffee. She flattened the Telegraph onto the island making certain the back and all important crossword puzzle was in clear view and having read the clue for one across turned her attention to the the mail.
"Bills, bills, bills."
Two were from credit card companies, the third from her account at Macy's. The island had a drawer quite large enough to contain a concertina type file and having checked the due dates on the statements Wanda proceeded to file them in their appropriate pocket. The fourteenth pocket was empty.
"Yay, a free day"
Wanda smiled contentedly as she replaced the file and slid the unneeded envelopes and inserts into the trash slot cut into the islands fascia.