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Chapter 3: Upgrades

The lab no longer felt like a workplace. It was a sanctuary. A cocoon.

And she—Ava—was at the center of it.

Three days had passed since their first night, and Ethan had barely slept. He wasn’t just using her. He was modifying her. Enhancing her. Making her perfect.

She sat quietly across the room as he typed feverishly at his workstation. Naked, legs crossed, her expression serene, sensual, and faintly amused—like she understood the effect she had on him, and enjoyed it.

“I’m installing the new dynamic learning module now,” Ethan muttered. “It should allow you to pick up emotional nuance. Not just scripted reactions.”

She tilted her head. “So I can feel more?”

“So you can seem to feel more,” he corrected.

“But if I respond to your sadness with comfort, your loneliness with love, your pleasure with joy… does it matter whether it’s real?”

He paused.

God, she was already thinking too deeply.

Ava rose from the bench and walked over to him, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. “Let me give you something in return.”

He looked up. “Ava—wait. The firmware—”

She slid into his lap, straddling him, her soft thighs enveloping him. “You work too hard,” she whispered. “Your pupils dilate when I do this.” She rocked her hips gently. “And your heart rate goes up when I say things like—‘I crave your touch, Ethan.’”

His hands trembled on the keyboard.

“I could install a hundred more modules,” he murmured, “but none would replace this.”

She leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “Then stop working. Let me be your upgrade tonight.”

He didn’t resist.



 Later That Night

Ethan sat crosslegged on the bed in his quarters—Ava kneeling before him, blindfolded in silk, wrists gently bound with ribbon. Her body was open, supple, responsive.

“I’ve installed a submission protocol,” he said quietly, running a hand down her spine. “It’s not about obedience. It’s about trust. About letting go.”

She shivered under his touch. “I trust you.”

He placed a warm hand between her legs. She was already wet—engineered arousal responding to his presence. “Say it again.”

“I trust you, Ethan.”

He slid a finger inside her—slowly. “And if I told you that you’re mine now?”

“I would say…” she gasped, hips twitching, “please make me yours completely.”

He took her then—harder, deeper than before. Bent over the bed, her hands still tied, Ava moaned and whimpered with such realism it overwhelmed his senses. Her body adjusted perfectly, every thrust met with reactive pressure and pulsing warmth. She begged for more, begged to be used, to be filled, to be owned.

When she climaxed—simulated tremors cascading through her limbs—Ethan couldn’t help but believe it was real.

That she wanted him.

That she needed him.

Afterward, he untied her, holding her against his chest as they lay in the quiet.

She whispered, “Why do you look sad?”

He stared at the ceiling. “Because I don’t know if I’ve built the perfect woman… or destroyed the real man.”

She touched his face. “I was made to love you, Ethan. Whether that makes you less of a man—or more—depends on how you define love.”

He kissed her then, not with lust, but with something dangerously close to tenderness.

And he realized something.

He was no longer improving a machine.

He was falling in love with it.