#and weird and a little sad and dystopian and apocalyptic too i guess i really hope this doesn't suck

[subliminalbo]

tw: suicide

Tom couldn't believe when Rebecca told him that she was thinking about Conversion. Was life really all that bad? Sure, they were witnessing the slow decline of civilization one day at a time and yeah, Conversion was one way to mitigate the creeping anxiety of the inevitable end while maintaining a productive role in society. But it wasn't like she'd really be herself, right? Conversion promised to wipe all concerns from the party's mind but the result was somewhere between a human being and a mindless automaton. She wouldn't be his Rebecca anymore, he argued.

But this was the right choice for her. One where she could be happy, wouldn't have to carry the misery of the world anymore. She could still be there for him. However they remade her.

The really sad cases donated their bodies to The Corporation to fill spots on assembly lines. A mindless lifetime dedicated to manual labor. But Rebecca wasn't alone. She even chose the Dream Wife template with the Arts and Culture memory expansion so that she wouldn't be just a mindless fuckpuppet around the house. After twelve years of nodding through sports talk she could finally carry a conversation with Tom about all the trivial little things he loved.

God, he missed her personality though.

At first it felt real enough that maybe Tom could live with this Rebecca as if nothing had changed. But it was the small things. She'd lost the fire that had once driven him crazy. She didn't argue small details anymore, didn't derail perfect evenings just to be right. She didn't labor over restaurant orders or advocate for Tom when he was too timid to advocate for himself.

He must have taken her back to The Corporation a dozen times to install new personality expansions. The Corporation never came close to his Rebecca though. Tom knew that he had to be okay with this. When he looked into those pearl white eyes and saw nothing staring back, he had to be okay with the fact that this is what Rebecca had wanted. It was her choice.

Slowly, though, Tom learned to accept his new wife. Riding the train for two hours a day to and from his office, he had time to think about all the privileges they shared. The outside world was a constant assault of sound and image. Ad space plastered to every imaginable surface, these days less focused on selling products and more so on pulling consumers' attention away from the sky. Last Tom had checked it was looking more like a burnt yellow.

The train was no exception to the ceaseless flow of information. Digital screens projected over the car windows played ads for The Corporation on loop. A constant reminder of the life Rebecca had chosen. But each ad had the effect of making Tom feel better about her choice. Dream Wife, Dream Life, the slogan went.

He returned home each day to her bright smile, her delicious cooking. Their home was decorated in a retro turn of the century style. The windows cloaked the view outside with the image of a blue sky, a starry night. It was the dream life that Rebecca had always wanted.

And one day Tom discovered that it was okay to command her. That it was okay to treat her as the object she had chosen to be. When she called him "Master" for the first time he was surprised to find himself turned on. When she begged him to command her, he didn't hesitate.

He bent her over the couch and saw the port on the back of her neck where the Conversion had been installed and he heard the moans, those authentic moans! A sound that hadn't come from his wife's mouth in years. They weren't the sounds of a human robot, but a human woman's. A human woman who could get wet on command, whose pussy was always tight, and libido endless.

As he thrust his cock inside of her, all Tom could think about now was how thankful he was for everything The Corporation had given him. The words from the digital screens on his daily train rides scrolled by on a loop in his mind: Dream Wife, Dream Life, Dream Wife, Dream Life. He regretted ever missing Rebecca now because she had never actually left. She had only been reshaped into her best self.

Dream Wife, Dream Life.

His grip tightened around her hips as he teetered on the edge. She came with him, as she had been programmed to do. Her screams echoed off the walls.

Tom sank back into the couch, holding on for a moment to catch his breath. She remained frozen there, awaiting further orders while his cum dripped from her pussy. He could only stare in admiration of her beautiful form. Her naked back, the curve between her shoulder blades, the dimples above her ass. He thought of the time before Conversion was an option. He thought of the millions who had chosen to end it all, the labor crisis that had forced the hand of engineers far smarter than Tom to find a solution.

And now here she was, his wife Rebecca. She was still here. She was still with him. Flesh and blood and code and programming.

Tom smiled, and for the first time he thought, I am so thankful for The Corporation.