Lottery Winner Evan Hendricks: Sister / Sister - Traits {configurable}

I slump furiously over, crushing my shoulder roughly into the creased, sweaty bed. The pillow clutched over my ear as I press my head against the mattress as hard as I possibly can.

I'm hot, sticky, exhausted. And so fricking turned on. Why does she - it - have to be so fricking loud? Nearly a month of this, pretty much nightly: no sleep from being tormented by my own sounds of ecstasy. It's like having a very literal, very, uh... tangible mirror to my internal thoughts. My desires. Desires that shouldn't exist and have never existed, but which flare into being rebelliously with the wailing cries that batter their way into my space, unimpeded by the flimsy wall between mine and my brother's bedroom.

She - no! - it is quiet for a few moments. Sated? Dare I hope? Unlikely. If I'm any judge - and I've become a scholar - they are far from finished. If my brother is done already that's a poor showing for tonight.

The blessed peace is broken by another low, feminine moan, as inevitably as the dawn that will be here... ugh, far too soon. Her voice carries with a deep tremulous frequency, I feel it through the bed more than hear it. I can't resist any longer. With another creeping inevitability, my fingers reach down, trailing across my sweaty stomach, connecting with a flash and drawing a matching groan from my lips...

The day the doll arrived, I'd been the first one up, eating an early breakfast before I had to leave for my shift. These earlies killed me, but it was always nice to have an hour or so of peace before my lame-o dad or my gross brother woke up and slobbed around the place like they would do the rest of the time. My morning routine - and even the mind numbing voluntary hours to be honest - were at least a fairly good way to escape their slovenly presence in the house. Just a few more months saving up my stipend credits, and I'd be able to secure my own tenancy and get the hell out of this shithole.

A heavy thud and a knock on the door jerked my attention away from the coffee cup, and I hesitantly got to my feet to investigate. Not expecting to be seen by anyone, I was wearing my work uniform polo shirt but still had my pajama pants on underneath: I'd usually wait until the last possible minute to put the thick, stiff and sticky uniform pants on, keeping them by the door to struggle into before leaving.

So feeling a little self conscious, I peeked round the door to see an enormous crate and one of the newer models of robot delivery worker, quadrupedal and with an immense wedge-shaped torso, fork lift prongs receding into the already scuffed metal.

A comically weedy cantilevered arm swung around from behind the bulk of the torso and I touched my hand to the the proffered tablet's gridded flat screen on autopilot.

"Identity Confirmed, GEORGIA, thank you. Recipient EVAN."

"Uh, yeah, he's my brother-"

"I know. Please convey the congratulations of ETCETERA Robotics to EVAN on his prize." The robot began to shuffle away in that peculiar way they do.

"Wait, how am I supposed to get this in the house? I can't lift this."

"Open delivery and activate contents." The omnidirectional speaker nevertheless had an eerie effect of disembodying the robot's voice as it climbed up the front the ten wheel flatbed lorry and nestled itself into the stowage sockets.

I stared up at the huge crate. On closer inspection I could tell that it was one of the newer high-tensile inflatable rigid delivery systems, the micropump assembly that was housed behind another hand print scanner whirred gently, sucking air into hundreds of nano-intake vents and inflating the carbon fibre tubes. I absently flicked a finger against the rigid outer skin, making a pinging sound, and the subtlest flex bouncing my nail back into my fist.

The display had my brother's name, 'Evan Hendricks', in softly glowing blue text, above a line that read 'Congratulations winner #43,006, ETCETERA Robotics Love Doll Sigma release lottery'.

"Evan won himself one of these things," I thought to myself. Of course I knew what they were. The newest model of customisable sex doll has been advertised constantly, only marginally ahead of the adverts for the lottery itself. The thought of my brother grunting and sweating over some uncanny likeness of a cartoon character or holo star **** its way into my head, and I shuddered.

Looking around at the quiet street, I thought it was probably best to get the embarrassing object indoors and avoid questions from the neighbours, who would be likely to start waking up soon. I reluctantly placed my palm against the screen and an instant hissing sound escaped from the suddenly wide open nano vents all over the crate. Within thirty seconds the grey skin of the immense package had collapsed on itself and was rolling away into the pump housing.

I didn't pay this any mind, in part because I've seen a fair few packages like this in my volunteer work, but mainly because I can't tear my eyes away from the figure that is revealed by the disappearing packaging.

She... No, it, was almost naked. I barely noticed the strips of interior packaging that covered the nipples and groin, barely noticed the glowing nakedness of the doll's skin. I was unsurprised by the freckles on the chest and the little scar on the right shoulder, or the smooth blond hair that hung immaculately behind it.

I was unsurprised by these features because the doll was me. My brother ordered a doll of me.

Suddenly considering that it was imperative to get the hideous thing indoors, I reached for the fingerprint pad on the strip covering her chest. Immediately her eyes opened and a holographic projection appeared in front of her - no! - it's face while the grey material retracted with a quieter hiss, revealing my full nakedness.

"Greetings," the doll uttered, in a perfect imitation of my voice. "System loading. Please stand by."

"Get inside," I croaked. "Now!"

"Very well. I possess only basic motor functions until initialisation is complete. I will comply."

She... Ugh. pushed past me and into the house.