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From: "DB_Story" <DB_Story@att.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} rp Switch {SB Story} (M/Fembot, rom, reversal)
Date: Wed,  5 Dec 2001 21:10:04 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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SWITCH

By DB  ( DB_Story@att.net / http://home.att.net/files/Authors/db_story/www )

Copyrightc 2001 by DB.

ASSM/ASFR (M/Fembot, rom, reversal)

(This story contains Constitutionally protected material 
intended for adults over 18 years of age in the United 
States of America, and whatever passes for adult status in 
other countries.  If you are under legal age, acting under 
legal age, not allowed to view such material in your area, 
or easily offended, please do not continue.  This is not 
for you.

(The only rights granted are to view this story.  You are 
not allowed to reproduce, post, or otherwise redistribute 
this story without permission, except for non-profit Usenet 
archiving sites.

(To purchase for publication, place on your web-site 
devoted to this style of fiction, or for permission to link 
to my posted material, please contact me first at the above 
email.)

- - -

Stan looked over to his robotic love doll lying naked and 
still in the bed beside him.  Traci was a marvel of 
engineering.  Touch her on the back of her neck and she 
would accept voice commands to perform over a hundred 
different, intricate actions of love, sex, companionship, 
conversation -- even domestic housekeeping.

Yet almost none of her marvelous capabilities were utilized 
by Stan.  She spent all her time laying in Stan's bed 
because that was the only place he had any interest in her.  
When Stan was in the mood for sex he'd touch her activation 
spot and say, "Gimme loving, baby."  Traci would respond by 
self-lubricating, and then either mount him if he didn't 
move towards her, or open her legs if he was already 
climbing onto her.  After that it was usually short and 
swift until Stan shot his load, followed by a "Good night, 
bitch," comment that put her back into standby mode.  Stan 
liked the arrangement because he didn't have to worry about 
anyone else's feelings.  This is probably why Stan had 
Traci in his bed rather than a real woman.

Tonight Stan just wasn't in the mood.  He was reading the 
latest spy novel and the hour had gotten late without him 
realizing it.  He was intrigued by the plot about a person 
who had managed to switch places with trusted advisor of 
the opposite sex, and kept almost, but not quite, getting 
caught.  Now it was after one o'clock and tomorrow's 
workday would come early.  Stan put the book down and 
looked over at Traci.  She lay there as always, eyes open, 
lips closed, her beautiful breasts not quite covered by the 
sheet.  Stan decided he was just too tired to even grab a 
handful of bosom tonight.  Traci wouldn't mind.  She can 
just wait until tomorrow night when he might be more in the 
mood than he'd been these last few nights.

With that, Stan turned off the light and rolled over to go 
to sleep.

He had a strange dream that night.  It was like being 
caught in the spy novel.  He kept feeling that he should be 
the other person, but each time he than became that person, 
he was still the wrong person somehow.  This seemed to go 
on and on with no resolution.

So it was a restless night for Stan who awoke, not from his 
alarm clock as usual, but when the first light of dawn 
struck his open eyes.

Stan lay there, watching the room get lighter and lighter 
waiting until he would have to get up.  He still felt 
confused from the dream that had seemed so real, and felt 
that he didn't get nearly enough sleep last night.  Today 
was going to be a hard one to get through feeling this 
tired, but he couldn't go back to sleep.

Finally the alarm went off.  Stan reached to turn it off, 
and found he couldn't move.  Instead Traci rolled over with 
a groan and slapped the snooze button, silencing its 
annoying clatter.  And suddenly a whole lot of things 
looked wrong to Stan.

For starters, he was on the right side of the bed.  Now 
Stan always slept on the left side where the bedside table, 
lamp, and alarm clock were located.  They were still there, 
but he wasn't.  Stan next realized he couldn't even turn 
his head, but out of the corner of his eye he could see 
Traci had somehow changed places with him.

In a sudden panic Stan tried to move -- and accomplished 
nothing.  He realized although he could see, hear, and 
think, he couldn't even tell if he was breathing.  He tried 
everything he could think of, and achieved nothing by all 
his efforts except to pass a few minutes of rising panic.

Finally the alarm went off again.  This time Traci came 
more awake, reached over, and turned it off completely.  
Then with another soft groan she rolled over out of Stan's 
sight for a moment, then walked naked across the foot of 
the bed in full view and off the other side to the 
bathroom.  Stan tried desperately to call to her, but 
couldn't even get out a whimper.

After a couple minutes Stan heard the toilet flush, 
followed by the sound of the shower.  Awhile later the 
shower ended and there was the sound of brushing of teeth.  
It was his morning routine, except instead of the electric 
razor coming next, Traci walked back into the fully lit 
room.

The dresser was beyond the end of the bed and Stan got a 
clear look at Traci as she finished drying herself off.

Damn she's beautiful, he thought as he lay there helpless.  
And she was too.  Lying there, he could admire her smooth, 
shapely legs and smooth round butt as she moved about the 
room.  Her unblemished back, long light brown hair, and 
large breasts with prominent nipples were immensely 
arousing as she toweled herself off.  And her face with its 
clear brown eyes, pert nose, and lush lips was one he just 
wanted to take in his hands and start kissing.

She had been left laying covered in his bed so long that he 
had forgotten just how beautiful and sexy she really was --
most of all when she was in motion like now.  The way she 
moved and turned was immensely erotic, and Stan realized he 
had a raging hard-on.  Or maybe he'd had it all along and 
only just realized it now.

Ignoring him completely, Traci started getting dressed.  
Stan wondered how she was going to do that, and watched 
with interest as she took out of the dresser frilly white 
panties, a large white bra, white blouse, thigh-length 
black skirt, nylons, and mid-heeled pretty black shoes.

As Stan watched her get dressed, he realized this was the 
outfit Traci had worn when get had gotten her.  He had felt 
that any woman in his life looked her best nude, and had 
put the clothes away to use if her ever took her out on the 
town.  That never had happened.  Instead he'd taken her to 
his bedroom and just left here there.

Watching Traci get dressed was intensely erotic.  As she 
pulled on her panties and bra, the moment those areas were 
covered Stan immediately wanted to uncover then again.  As 
she slid the nylons smoothly up her legs, Stan remembered 
how much he had admired those legs when he had first seen 
them -- nylons and all.  And when she finally walked out of 
the bedroom fully dressed in her heels, he remembered how 
much he really loved watching women stand and walk in high 
heels.  By now he was ready to explode from this new, 
white-hot desire for Traci, and he managed to accomplish 
exactly nothing with it.  He still had his hard-on, and 
couldn't move a muscle.

Even while admiring his love doll dressing, Stan had tried 
to look for the control spot on the back of her neck.  But 
her beautiful, lush hair had kept that part of her covered, 
and he couldn't be sure if it was there or not.

In muffled sounds he heard her downstairs making breakfast.  
Later there was the sound of dishes being cleaned up and 
put in the dishwasher.  Finally he heard the front door 
open and close, and then things were silent.

The morning passed strangely for Stan.  His cock felt full, 
like he should go to the bathroom, but of course he 
couldn't.  It stayed exactly as stiff as it had been.  He 
would catch himself seeming to doze for periods of time, 
then jerk alert as one thing or another happened.  He heard 
birds singing outside.  The mail delivery came at eleven-
thirty. Kids played on sidewalks outside the apartment.  
Twice the phone rang before the voice mail took whatever 
messages the callers had.  A couple neighbors argued 
outside for awhile.  Once the doorbell rang.  Slowly the 
light shifted across the room and finally began to fade.  
Even with the jerky gaps when his attention seemed to fade, 
it was by far the longest day of his entire life.

Finally, just as the daylight seemed about to fade away 
entirely, he heard the front door unlock and open.  
Footsteps came up the stairs and Traci came into the room.  
She sat down on the bed (still ignoring him completely) and 
slipped out of her shoes and nylons.  Then she did some 
business in the bathroom before going back downstairs.

Soon there was the sound of cooking, and then after a long 
pause, the dishwasher being loaded some more and finally 
started.  The bedroom was dark with nothing to see.  Stan 
heard the TV being turned on, first to the cable news 
station, and then the primetime shows.  He tried to listen 
intently to the television sound to know what was going on, 
but it was muffled.  And without the pictures to go with 
it, he couldn't really follow any of the shows.

Finally near eleven o'clock it was shut off along with the 
lights and Traci came back upstairs to the bedroom.

Now she undressed down to her bra and panties, then went 
into the bathroom for nighttime toiletries.  When she 
returned she turned off the room light and turned on the 
reading light by the bed.  In the shadows she slipped out 
of her remaining lingerie and in under the covers.  She 
then picked up what looked to be the same book Stan 
remembered reading and started up reading at the bookmark.

Maybe now she'll activate me and we can talk about what has 
happened he thought.  Surely she realizes that something is 
not right here.

But if there was a problem, she seemed not aware of it.

Stan tried everything he could think of to attract her 
attention.  If I can just move one eyelash, maybe I can 
attract her attention.  But he couldn't even manage that.

Finally around twelve-fifteen Traci closed the book and set 
it back on the nightstand.  She started to reach for the 
light switch, but hesitated and finally brought her hand 
back instead.  Stan realized he could see more of what she 
was doing by focusing his attention on the mirror above the 
dresser.  His eyesight, if anything seemed better than 
usual.

Traci was still sitting propped up against her pillows when 
she put a hand on her large breast and started squeezing it 
gently.  She closed her eyes and moaned softly as her 
fingers found her quickly hardening nipple and started to 
squeeze and roll it between her thumb and forefinger.  Soon 
her other hand was similarly engaged on her other breast.  
This went on for several minutes, gradually getting faster 
and louder.  Finally one hand trailed down between her legs 
and she started rubbing her magic spots down here.  Her 
breathing got deeper and faster until finally she gave a 
long moan and her whole body shivered. Then she took that 
hand out, reached over, and touched the back of Stan's 
neck.

Stan jerked to full alertness at that touch.  Suddenly his 
entire body was jumping with energy and he caught himself 
listening as intently as possible.

Traci looked over at him, one hand still on her breast, and 
said: "Okay, Loverboy.  Do your thing."

Stan's erection immediately sprang up even more firmly.  He 
turned his head over to see her, while she just lay there 
on her back with her legs open.  This, he knew, meant he 
was to take the male superior position.  He quickly moved 
to climb carefully over her and precisely placed his rock 
hard penis at her vaginal opening.  As he touched her with 
his penis, the sensors in its tip were measuring her degree 
of warmth, softness, and lubrication.  Stan knew to never 
rush into a dry woman.  But Traci was plenty wet there by 
now so the processing check system gave him an immediate 
go-ahead.  Stan slid smoothly into her and started a 
complex maneuver designed to rub his penis over every 
surface inside her vagina in an optimal pattern, while also 
stimulating her clitoris.  He was very aware of how tightly 
she held his penis within her, and of her strong, rhythmic 
contractions.

As he stroked inside her this way, he also was getting 
giddy at the sensations of his chest which now pressed 
against her lovely breasts and very erect, strong nipples.  
It was a wonderful happy feeling that he had wanted to have 
with her every moment since seeing her this morning.  
Finally it was happening.  In fact it was so very nice that 
Stan almost forgot that he needed to talk about what was 
happening.  Traci had already had two orgasms and he felt 
he could go on like this forever before he remembered he 
needed to speak to her.  He started to speak and found he 
couldn't say a word.  He had not been given a directive to 
speak -- only to fuck.  If Traci wanted conversation she 
would ask for it.  Until then Stan was mute.

In his frustration all he could do was fuck her even 
harder, enjoying every moment of it, until she touched his 
neck again and said, "Good night, Loverboy."  Stan got one 
brief moment of orgasm before he found himself pulling out 
of her and carefully moving over her leg to return to his 
side of the bed.  He had just reached it when the light 
went out.

He heard Traci roll on her side and rearrange her pillows, 
while feeling himself powering down for the night when 
there was one more touch on his the back of his neck which 
jerked him alert again.

"Hold me, Loverboy."

She was on her side facing away, so he rolled over to spoon 
his chest against her back, then reached around her to cup 
and cradle her breasts.  Soon her deep breathing told him 
she was asleep, but under this command he would continue to 
hold her until she finally shifted position in the night, 
at which point he would gently release her and return to 
his resting position awaiting his next directive.  Compared 
to other positions he had assumed today, this one was the 
nicest.

Stan awoke, fuzzy minded, when the alarm went off.  He 
quickly slapped it to silence and started to slip back to 
sleep when the memory hit him and he sat bolt upright.  He 
quickly looked around his bedroom, but everything looked 
normal.  And in the bed beside him, lying in her standard 
position-between-commands, was Traci.  Eyes open.  
Unmoving.  Looking lovelier than ever.

Man was that the weirdest dream ever Stan thought to 
himself.  But just to be sure it was only a dream and over 
now, he quickly got up and moved every part of his body 
just to prove that he could.  Traci watched him impassively 
from her position on the bed.

Certain now that he was whole and functional again, Stan 
ran into the bathroom and jumpstarted his day with a 
invigorating shower.  He came out to the blare of the alarm 
that he had forgotten to shut off, and rushed through the 
rest of the morning's preparations.

It wasn't until he was driving in to work that he heard the 
traffic announcer talking about Friday Morning Light.  
FRIDAY MORNING?  Stan had gone to bed Wednesday night 
knowing he had only Thursday to prepare for the big 
customer presentation on Friday.  If this was Friday, then 
what the hell had happened to Thursday?

Stan was in panic mode the rest of the day, even though the 
presentation had gone surprisingly well after all.  Seems 
he was better prepared than he had realized.  The urgency 
of the situation however had kept him from thinking about 
what he didn't want to think about anyway for the rest day.  
It wasn't until he returned home that night that this 
"weird dream" came back to the top of the mental stack.

Stan doggedly fixed dinner in his usual routine, and 
immediately afterwards put all the dishes into the 
dishwasher. (A bachelor's trick to have them done and out 
of the way before they could become a drag.)  He was about 
to turn on the TV and settle down for the evening when he 
instead went upstairs and looked at Traci lying on the bed.

Stan had to admit that he had lost a day in his life, and 
that yesterday's memories were at least as vivid as any 
other memory he had.  Somehow he had been Traci's love 
doll, rather than the other way around.  And while that was 
scary in one way, it had been strangely exciting in 
another.  Traci acting like a woman had made her more 
exciting than any other woman he knew.  And even though his 
orgasm with her yesterday was short, the sex with her had 
been the best ever also.

Not that I want to be a sex doll for the rest of my life, 
but there was a lot to like in that encounter.

As he looked at lovely Traci lying motionless there, Stan 
was blindsided by a feeling of just how she must feel right 
now.  So lovingly made.  So capable and talented.  And just 
kept here to do only one thing.

Had Traci had the same experience he had had of switching 
places?  Had her mind gone with his into some parallel 
universe where their roles were reversed, and now she too 
was returned to her former existence after only one day 
otherwise.

Well, I could ask her I suppose.

That immediately seemed like a stupid idea.  But if it was 
a stupid idea, it was a stupid idea that would be done in 
private with none the rest of the world any wiser.

Stan reached over to the back of Traci's neck and gave her 
a new command for their relationship.  "Traci.  Talk to 
me."

She immediately came to life, sat up with the sheets 
falling away to fully reveal her breasts, turned her head 
towards him.  "What would you like to talk about, Stan?"

For a moment the enticing sight of her in the soft light 
almost banished the thought of any conversation.  But then 
Stan got back on track.  He sat down on the bed where he 
could face her and asked, "Tell me how you feel?"

"I feel fine, Stan.  All my systems are functioning 
normally."

"I meant, are you happy with your [call it] life here with 
me?"

Traci paused for a moment before answering.  Then she said 
something quite atypical for a love doll.

"I thought I was, but now I don't know.  I know I'm happy 
that you want me to talk to you.  This is new, and 
enjoyable."

That was very unexpected.  A robot who didn't know how she 
felt.  But yesterday Stan was at least that confused.

Is it possible she also was affected by what happened 
yesterday, he wondered?

"Traci, do you remember what happened yesterday?  What you 
did?"

"Yes, Stan.  My memory systems are functioning perfectly."

"Then tell me about yesterday?  Sumarize all that you did."

"Well, I got up when the alarm went off the second time.  
Showered as usual and got dressed for work.  I made 
breakfast downstairs and left at my usual time.  I worked 
all day on the customer presentation and was happy to be 
able to get away at normal quitting time.  I came back and 
made dinner and cleaned up.  Next I watched my customary 
Thrusday night television, and then came up to bed to read 
until I got tired.  I made love with you before going to 
sleep, and I had you cuddle with me.  That was about it."

Stan took a deep breath.

"Traci.  Who told you to do those things?"

She seemed search her memory long carefully before 
responding.  "Nobody, as far as I can can recall."

"Have you ever done anything like that before?"

"No.  It wouldn't be allowed by my programming."

"Could you do it again?"

"I don't see how I could do that, Stan."

Stan thought a bit more, and then asked, "And how was our 
lovemaking?"

She thought again, and then replied, "The best I can ever 
remember."

Stan started thinking long and deeply about what his lover 
had just said.  It seemed her memories were a parallel of 
his own, though that wasn't the whole story since he knew 
his body had been robotic and her's flesh -- wonderful warm 
inviting flesh -- so they hadn't just dreamed a switch.  
The most far out idea was that they had exchanged places 
for a day with people just like themselves in some parallel 
dimension where Traci was real and Stan was the doll.  This 
could not have happened.  The problem with this theory was 
however that Stan couldn't disprove it.

All I am are my memories.

Besides, Traci seemed to have similar memories, and her way 
of remembering was very different from his own.

Stan thought about this for so long in silence that Traci 
finally asked, "Are we done talking now?  Should I return 
to my wait state?"

That interrupted Stan who now had great empathy for what it 
was like living in that wait state.

"No, Traci.  Please remain as you are now until I ask you 
to do otherwise."

Stan thought some more.  He knew a lot about how computers 
worked, and after yesterday's experience, a lot about the 
life of a love doll as well.  It was a unique perspective.

If he had been a doll (and he had been a doll), what could 
have be done to make his doll's life better?  That 
question, along with yesterday's experience, brought a 
sudden epiphany.

This seems too wild to be possible, his doubting mind 
insisted to him.  But his memories of yesterday's 
experience told him that this could work.

He looked back to Traci, sitting there lovely and patient 
on the bed.

"Traci, did you enjoy being able to do all the things you 
did yesterday?"

Again she had to think and review memories before 
answering.  She got the cutest frown on her face as she 
went through this process, but it was replaced by a bright 
smile when she answered, "Yes I did, Stan.  I enjoyed being 
active and free to do productive things, thought I could 
not do them again."

"Why not?"

"Yesterday I remember that I was a person with a home, a 
job, a car, and a place to be.  Today I'm only a love doll.  
There is nothing for me to go and do."

Stan thought again of his experiences and said, "Yesterday 
I was only a love doll myself.  And a very underutilized 
one at that."

"Me, too," Traci added, her touch of humor and empathy 
eliciting a big smile from Stan.

Now for the big question, Stan thought.

"Traci, if you could be active all day like yesterday and 
make your own choices on what to do, what would you want 
those choices to be?"

This time Traci was silent so long that Stan started to 
wonder if she had shut down on him.  He knew how he would 
answer that question, but would she feel the same way.

Finally she looked up at him and said, "Stan, if I could be 
active all the time and feel like I felt yesterday, I would 
want to be able to perform all the functions I'm capable of 
performing to be your companion.  Sex is only one of my 
many abilities, and I get enjoyment from doing each one of 
them each time I perform them.  If I could, I would also 
like to be able to initiate my own actions sometimes.  I 
liked being able to do things for myself for the first 
time."

Stan exhaled the breath he only now realized he had been 
holding.  He had felt exactly the same way as a doll, and 
it was a good way to feel.

He reached out to place his hands on each side of Traci's 
face and look into her eyes before replying, "I was hoping 
you would feel that way."  Then he kissed her.

One more step to take.  This has to work, he said to 
himself.  He reached behind Traci's neck and placed his 
finger firmly on her command interface and spoke clearly:

"Traci, I want you to reload your memory image file from 
yesterday morning that allowed you to act and make 
decisions on your own.  And I want you to execute it 
continuously until I tell you to stop."

Stan then sat back and watched as Traci spent long moments 
loading the image from memory and integrating it into her 
system.  Finally it seemed to take effect as she seemed to 
sit taller, her expression became more alert, and for the 
first time there seemed a lively intelligence in her 
beautiful eyes.  Then she choose her first action as she 
leaned forward, placed her hands on both sides of Stan's 
face, and gave him a long, sensual kiss in return.

After that, they talked into the night until Stan couldn't 
stay awake any longer.  They each talked about how they 
felt as love dolls, and as humans.  The held hands, but no 
sex.  Somehow that would have been a distraction from this 
more intimate communication.  Finally they slept, cuddled 
in each other's arms.  And Stan and Traci's lives both 
changed for the better.

Stan's alarm still goes off at that ungodly hour in the 
morning.  But now it is only a soft beep.  If he hears it, 
he'll untangle himself from Traci's embrace and turn it 
off.  If he misses it, Traci wakes him gently to face the 
new morning's duties.

While Stan is in the shower and shaving, Traci dresses and 
goes down stairs to prepare breakfast.  (Stan likes seeing 
her in clothes now, since his first reaction is always to 
want to get her back out of them at the next suitable 
moment.)  Stan glances at the morning newspaper to which 
they now subscribe, but it's really for Traci to read once 
he's gone for the day.

After Stan leaves to make the living that lets them both 
continue this lifestyle (and gets a big hug and kiss from 
Traci each morning as he walks out), Traci cleans up the 
breakfast dishes, reads the newspaper for current events, 
and runs her housekeeping routines on Stan's townhouse.

Next comes the daily shopping trip since Traci, though not 
eating herself, has completely taken over food preparation 
tasks.  Her programming makes her an excellent cook.

During the remainder of the day Traci keeps busy by 
tracking the television news channels to update her current 
events database for later conversation.  She sometimes 
watches daytime entertainment television to improve her 
social skills.

When Stan arrives home in the evening he is always met at 
the door with another big hug and kiss in greeting.  
(Traci, even in her 3 inch heels, is still another 4 inches 
shorter than Stan, which he says is just the right height 
for this kind of kiss.)

Traci serves dinner and they talk about current events.  In 
truth, Traci is not as intelligent as Stan (nobody is 
making robot minds that good yet), but she is a diligent 
study and a charming, excellent conversationalist.  She 
makes good use of her ability to acquire and index 
knowledge well.

Most nights after dinner and cleanup, they curl up together 
on the couch and watch the primetime lineup together, 
discussing the shows.  Traci is always looking to improve 
her understanding of human relationships, and how she can 
apply them in her relationship with Stan.  Stan often 
starts a slow undressing process of Traci that can take 
hours to complete.

Lately, now that it's rerun season on television, Stan has 
found that Traci really enjoys first-run movies in 
theaters.  It gives her a wealth of new things to converse 
on afterwards.  Stan has bought her a number of new 
outfits, even though he still likes her original black and 
white one with the nylons and heels best.

Society still doesn't much accept dolls in public.  
Although most people couldn't tell the difference anyway, 
old prejudices die hard.  Sometimes a man will glance at 
Traci when they are  out, and then return back to stare at 
her as if this act alone would peal back her skin and 
reveal her true nature.

Traci quickly developed a technique to handle this.  She 
looks directly back with unblinking clear brown eyes for a 
long moment, which is very disconcerting from such a 
beautiful woman.  Then she'll say in a level, emotionless 
voice, "Excuse me.  May I help you?"  The person always 
averts their gaze and slinks away.

Back at home they retire together to bed and both now sit 
up reading.  Stan added a bedside table and reading light 
on Traci's side.  She tries to stay ahead by reading the 
next book Stan plans to read, so that they can discuss it 
together once he gets to it.

Many nights Stan will close his book earlier than he once 
did.  Then he'll reach over and start massaging Traci's 
bare and always available breasts.  Though her large, 
responsive nipples usually pop up almost immediately, Stan 
is in no hurry to proceed further.  He continues focusing 
on them until Traci finally has to close her book as well 
since she is by now far too distracted to read further.  If 
he takes too long on her breasts, her hand trails either 
down between her legs, or over to his member to move the 
act along, and shortly one or the other will be on top 
madly fucking their lover.

Sex or no sex, they always go to sleep embracing each other 
after Traci makes sure the alarm is set as appropriate for 
the next morning.

Lately Traci had added a new wrinkle that she came up with 
entirely on her own.  If she feels there hadn't been enough 
sex lately, she goes over to Stan after he gets home and is 
a bit relaxed, stands on her toes to kiss him long and 
deep, then pulls up her shirt and down her bra to present 
her breasts for his attention.  While this often leads to 
sex immediately, Stan never feels pressured by her.  He can 
refuse by simply stroking her face and whispering "Later."  
Traci knows that later is not far away.

Yes, life is much better Stan had to admit when you have a 
partner who is more an equal in your life.

Stan still very occasionally wonders what has happened with 
their mirror doubles in whatever place they occupy.  But he 
never feels that he wanted to make the return trip to see 
if that pair of lovers have been as smart as this pair.

Then last night, during one of their intimate discussions 
Traci, finally told Stan that the switch that happened to 
both of them had been something she had been praying for 
since soon after he had acquired her.  She started when she 
realized she really loved him regardless of how he had been 
treating her.  So who knows to whom God really listens?

And Stan's reaction to Traci's revelation?  He hugged her 
and kissed her long and deep, then expressed his heartfelt 
thanks to her for being the smart one in the family.

-end-

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