Playmate

A doting father, Peter Kanussen doesn't hesitate when his sexy 19-year-old daughter Ariel asks for a Playmate. In this near-future tale, a Playmate is a sibling specifically adopted to be a sexual partner. It's not illegal, but is frowned upon in some circles; but after “test-driving” a friend's new Playmate, Ariel doesn't care. She wants a Playmate of her own.

Soon after, Peter finds himself at the Lanier Home for Extraordinary Children, a “clone warehouse.” One of the counselors urges him to consider a young man named Elf, who's been there for eight years and, through no fault of his own, has become a disruptive influence among the residents and staff. Although the boy doesn't fit their criteria, Peter agrees to meet with Elf…and is smitten. Though he's 25, Elf looks much younger, and is as beautiful as a supermodel. He had delicately pointed ears and resembles a classic elf, a deliberate body-mod added when he was fabbed for an exclusive sex club. Elf was raised as a sex-toy—and loved every minute of it.

It isn't long before the sex-charged young man is going home with the Kanussens as Ariel's new Playmate…and that's when the real fun begins.

~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~

You could have knocked me over with a feather when my daughter Ariel said to me, “Daddy, could you get me a Playmate?”

I played dumb. “I figured you already had plenty of playmates, kiddo, given your school friends and social network.” I took my eyes off the road long enough to glance at her.

She pouted prettily. “Oh, Daddy, not that kind of playmate! I mean a boy-toy.”

I'd been afraid of this. “I, um, I had no idea you were interested in such things,” I extemporized, mouth dry.

“Daaa-aaad! I'm almost nineteen years old!”

So she was. “And what brought this on?”

Ariel blushed and admitted, “Michele Lederman has one now. Remember when I stayed over last month? She, uh, let me try out her new brother. It was fun!”

I just about wrecked the car when I heard that news. “Oh. I see. So you're not a virgin anymore, huh?” Not that it was any of my business.

I kept my eyes on the road, but I could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Dad, I've been dating for years. How could I possibly be a virgin?”

She had me there, I guess. I suppose I'm still old fashioned. When I was a kid, age of consent was still 16.

But I wanted to make my daughter happy, and if that meant acquiring a boy-toy for her, then so be it.

I'd always wanted a son anyway.

After making a few discrete inquiries over the course of the next several days, I headed for the nearest clone warehouse.

Now, let me explain that. That wasn't really what they called the place; no one would ever call it that in polite company. Officially, it's the Lanier Home for Exceptional Children. The children are exceptional because they're illegal copies of other people.

In other words, they're clones.

Clones are usually fabbed for one of three reasons: as children for people who can't have them naturally; as mobile spare parts lockers; and as sex-toys. The reasons don't matter: full-body human cloning is illegal. So, when the Federal authorities track down a cloner, they confiscate the clones and put the cloners and their clients in jail. Most of the kids end up being saved from wretched lives, especially the ones that were going to be parted out some day at the whim of their elderly “parents.”

The government doesn't have anything against the clones themselves, so they do the best they can by them, warehousing them in pleasant orphanages while they try to adopt them out to good parents. When they're deemed capable of taking care of themselves, the clone kids become free adults with clean records, and no one ever has to know they're synthetic. Usually that happens when they're 18, but clones who don't mature at normal rate, or who have special needs, may stay indefinitely.

The babies get snapped up immediately; they're babies, after all. It's harder for the older kids, and the ones over ten or so are almost impossible to adopt out—much more so than naturally-born children. Few people want a synthetic teen, especially not one who knows he's synthetic. So the state has streamlined the adoption process for these kids, and, well, loosened the standards a bit.