Author : Patricia Stewart

James Stevens sheepishly peeked around the doorjamb. “E-e-excuse me m-m-mister, can you help m-me?”

Robert Boyer looked up from his desk, and smiled. “Of course, sir. Come in, and take a seat. What can I do for you?”

“I’d-d-d like to order a w-w-wife.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place. Any idea of what model you want?”

“I’m not s-sure. M-my m-m-mom recommended I c-come here.”

“Son, your mother is a smart woman. Make yourself comfortable, and I’ll walk you through the basic package, and explain the upgrade options. For $50,000 you get a baseline female. Thirty seven years old, five feet six, 140 pounds, sandy blond hair, hazel eyes, two of course.” He waited for the customary chuckle. Not even a smile. Mr. Stevens sat there like an unblinking mannequin. Best to push on, Boyer thought. “She can cook, clean, do the wash, has an IQ of 100, and can make love in four positions. By the way, how much do you want to spend?”

“I d-don’t know. A-about $80,000 I s-suppose.”

“How do you want to spend it:? Intelligence, looks, age, sports knowledge, house keeping skills, or maybe the deluxe bedroom package, if you know what I mean?”

Stevens turned beet red. Boyer reconsidered going for the big commission options. The sex models would probably freak the kid out, or maybe even kill him. “If I were you, I’d go for the intelligent type, but still hot. Am I right?” Stevens was smirking and nodding his head. Boyer pulled out a stack of photographs. Tall blonds with blue eyes, athletic brunettes with olive skin, top heavy redheads with long legs, and a dozen other options and/or combinations. As predicted, Stevens’ index finger tapped the photo of the Asian woman with the beautiful smile and long, straight, butt length black hair. “Excellent choice, sir. You should have enough money left over to purchase the 125-130 IQ upgrade. We’ll get started on her right away. Cloning and programming should take about 30 days. Then 5 days of additional training. Let me see…You can pick her up on the twenty third of next month, anytime after four o’clock.” He stood up and walked around the desk to shake Stevens’ trembling hand and to escort him to Financing. “This way, Jim. Tony here will handle the money end. Good luck, and feel free to call me with any questions.”

A few minutes after Boyer returned to his office and sat down; he heard a barely audible tapping on his opened door. He looked up to see a slender female with straight brown hair and glasses. “Come in, please. Have a seat, young lady. Would you like some coffee? No? Well, OK. What can I do for you?”

“Nancy, my sister, said she got her husband here. And that you have lots of good choices.”

That we do, ma’am. That we do. Let’s start with the baseline male. Forty years old, five feet eight, 198 pounds, balding, brown eyes, two of cour…ah, IQ of 100, missionary position only. They start at $10,000 dollars. Of course, there are thousands of upgrade options available. How much were you planning to spend?”

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