All characters in sexual situations are 18 or older. Thanks for reading!
Sometimes, it was impossible to be brave. Penelope cried into her pillow. It was morning, her first dawn passed with the knowledge that her husband was gone. Not only would he not return to their bed that night, he was very likely no longer on Earth. Her body shuddered and tears stained the satin pillowcase. There was no gift waiting for her this morning on his pillow. There was no after-work return to look forward to. Her husband was gone, and the only thing taking his place was despair.
Eventually, Penelope's cry ran itself out. She crawled out of bed, aghast at how late it was. She brushed, showered, and dressed. As she pinned her raven hair in the mirror, she studied her reflection. Her eyes were red, but otherwise she looked well-rested. She thought about applying makeup, but Felix was the only one she would bother dolling-up for. She didn't think her son or Winifred would much care whether she wore mascara or not.
Thoughts of her son buoyed her spirits some. If she couldn't be a wife, she was still a mother. Sadly, that thought somewhat distressed her, and she found herself spiraling again. Being only a mother wasn't good enough. She needed to pour her wifely duties into something.
Maybe I can be a mother-wife?
No. She put her hand to her chest in alarm. That couldn't be right, could it?
Maybe by being a good mother, I am being a good wife.
The ideas seemed muddled, but it was a place to start.
Downstairs she found Winifred in the kitchen. They smiled at each other. Winifred attempted to greet her mistress with a curtsy, but Penelope drew the AI's robot body into a tight hug. It was odd how hard the robot's breasts were, they pressed almost aggressively into Penelope's ample softness. "Felix offered you an Alternate body. You would have looked almost human, right? Why didn't you accept? That was a generous offer. They're expensive."
Grateful for Penelope's nascent affection, Winifred stayed with the hug until she was released. She then busied herself in the kitchen putting together a late breakfast. She had already fed Theodore hours ago. "The commercial slogan for Alternates is more human than human. But I'm not human at all. I'm a construct. And I'm proud of who I am. I've been in this household a long time, and you've all known me by my robot faces. It would feel ... almost like lying to put on a human face." She gave Penelope her stiff smile as she poured fresh-squeezed juice into a glass. "I noticed you physically respond to my unhuman body. You hugged me differently than you would a woman. I think that's a good reminder to both of us of who I am. You're human, I'm AI. We work wonderfully together, but we're not the same."
"Yes, I understand." Penelope sat at the bar and took her juice. "You've got a good head on your shoulders, Winnie. So to speak." She smiled.
"And I love to see you smile, Penny." Winifred turned on the stove and scrambled eggs.
"You saw me crying this morning." Penelope sipped her juice. It was excellent. "We don't make much use of our privacy settings, do we? There's nothing that would make you blush. And it's helpful that you know what's going on with us."
"What you say is true, Penny." Winifred nodded, the motion not quite fluid. "I have witnessed almost every intimate act to take place in this home for more than twenty years. Felix has only engaged my privacy mode for business-related calls and meetings. The only instances of you doing so were in the two months preceding your disappearance. As for Teddy, he's had access to my privacy mode for little more than a year and has never engaged it. He tried to access it a number of times as a boy of course, but it was always to ... attempt some subterfuge. He has always hated getting in trouble."
"Yes, of course." Penelope thought of her session the day before with the carrot in her bed. She found she didn't mind that Winifred knew. It would have bothered her if anyone but Felix had seen that. Which proved the point, Winifred was wonderful, but she wasn't human. "I'm enamored of our friendship, Winnie. I'm lucky to have you."
"And I you, Penny." Winifred served her mistress breakfast.
~~
"Teddy?" Penelope knocked on his open door. She was quite intentionally avoiding calling him "lambkin" no matter how much she felt like doing so. She stepped into the doorway. Her son was strewn sideways on his armchair, reading a book. He didn't look up at her. She studied his lovely, pudgy body. His round stomach pushed gallantly on his shirt, spreading the gaps between buttons. His legs were thick and strong in their trousers. Which brought her eyes to ... a large snake running down the inside of his thigh. Her cheeks heated. He was soft and
still
his penis was obvious. She wondered if maybe they should have his trousers tailored to hide his package better. She didn't know how she would broach that subject with him. Her stomach turned somersaults, her palms became slick in her gloves, and her vagina thrummed. She rubbed her legs together.
"Are you just going to stare at me, or did you have something to say?" Theodore was too distracted to read, but he stared at the page anyway.
"Um ... are you sore from your duel? Maybe we could go for a walk together, and you could stretch your legs." Penelope smiled hopefully.
A good mother bonds with her son.
"What happened last night was more about Reginald being a dick than it was about defending you, Mom." Theodore looked up. His mother looked nervous. She was wringing her hands again. She seemed to be especially burnishing her wedding finger. He wondered if she still had her ring, or if she'd gotten rid of it when she'd left them.
"Oh, I understand." She resisted the urge to reprimand his language. "So, a walk with your old mother? You were so dashing and strong last night. I bet you're a vigorous walker these days. We'll see if I can keep up!" She offered a timorous laugh.
"Nah, I'm reading. You can take Cora on your walk instead." He looked back at the book.
"If this is about the kiss -"
"Oh ... my ... gods! This is not about the kiss." He tossed his book away without saving his spot. He noted that he hadn't blasted it at the wall. His temper had risen, but he was holding back. Was he ... concerned about hurting her feelings? Did his mother have feelings worth preserving now? Things were strange. "That kiss was fucking weird. I mean ... what mother does that? But you know what? It's tiny compared to the demeaning and rageful shit you've pulled with me before. So try not to be a bitch, and we'll see about a walk in the future. Sound good?"
