The Un-Real Life (Part V) (Patreon)

The Un-Real Life

by Maverick

(Nota Bene: Sorry for the piecemeal nature of the last couple of chapters, but I've had family in town since Christmas, and my writing time has been spotty. Rather than make you wait, I thought you might prefer my staggering its release.)

The next few weeks went by in a blur.  Mark logged on when he woke up--often eschewing breakfast and showers to steal a few extra minutes with Cyber Dawn before school--then he’d log on again when he got home, only logging off to eat and sleep…both of which became less frequent as his obsession grew.  Mark didn’t care.  It was hard to care about school, chores, or even personal hygiene when the most beautiful girl in school was at his beck and call.

Mark’s erotic study session with Cyber Dawn helped him earn a B on his history test, and future sessions, including a table dance on the periodic table and an impromptu burlesque incorporating French vocabulary words, kept his grades respectable, but homework assignments were seldom completed.  Neither were chores.  Other things fell by the wayside, too.  When the arctic blast that buried the student body beneath heavy coats and hoodies dumped enough snow to cancel school, Mark never left his room.  Despite an epic snowball fight going on outside amongst his neighborhood friends.     

Their “dates,” such as they were, were usually the same.  When Mark logged on, Cyber Dawn would be sitting pretty at the center of the screen, adorned in its tidy cheerleader attire, looking as if it were posing for Seventeen magazine.  By the time Mark logged off, both the screen and the chatbot would be filled with junk food.  In before-school feedings, Mark might only succeed in swelling its stomach and puckering a few buttons. However, on weekends and holidays (and a couple of self-assigned Senior Skip Days), Mark would reduce the beautiful bot to a moaning, semi-naked mess, covered in crumbs and surrounded by remnants of the vast foodstuffs it had consumed.

As the numbers Mark added to the URL to activate the site grew bigger—134, 137, 142, 149—so did Cyber Dawn.   By the third week, its potbelly convexed outward in a state of perpetual fullness, rivaling its breasts’ protrusion and lowering the waistband of her skirt.  By the fourth, the comical protrusion of Cyber Dawn’s belly eased as the non-stop deluge of fat and calories Mark fed it spread across its lithe hourglass figure, softening its upper arms, thickening its thighs, and adding a cherubic fullness to its face.

Over time, Cyber Dawn’s cover girl looks faded.  Its peach-and-cream complexion curdled as brail-like blemishes rose to the surface of its forehead and cheeks, and its luminous blonde hair darkened beneath a greasy sheen.  It still looked good when Mark logged in, but it was becoming hard to hide the damage being done beneath make-up and an ever-expanding wardrobe of cheerleading outfits.  Sometimes, Mark wished the ruined mess he left behind at bedtime would be back in the morning, but the constant tug-of-war between beauty and blimp made it more exciting. 

Rome wasn’t built in a day, after all.

Nor was it destroyed.