Peter's father had never cared for anyone but himself, ever since the day he slipped out of the maternity ward. He had spent his life as a grifter, only dropping by to see his son every decade or so, earlier if he needed money.

And now the lecherous old leech was back, wheeling with painful slowness down Peter's garden path. Peter watched him with a dubious eye, resisting the urge to kick the old con artist out of the wheelchair just to see if he didn't miraculously start walking. The old man knew how to tug on the heartstrings.

On closer inspection, however, his father did look older. He was accustomed to seeing the man age in leaps and bounds but the last ten years had aged him twenty, his once dark hair now a white. But time had certainly not dulled his wits and he wasted no time in turning on the charm. "What a beautiful house you have," he remarked, which naturally led into a probing, "You must be doing well for yourself. A good salary, hm?" The old man insisted that he was -yet again- a reformed character, wishing only to make up for past mistakes and spend quality time with his grandson 'while he still had time'.

I bet he's still got thirty years in him, Peter thought suspiciously. It was a routine he'd heard before, one he'd even fallen for a few times as a younger, more naive man. "Why don't you skip to the end and tell me what you want?" he asked bluntly.

Money, his father explained. Medicines. A comfortable bed in a care home. Nurses to provide round-the-clock care - pretty ones too! He wanted people to bathe him, feed him, help lift him into bed at night and his chair in the morning. Peter's jaw dropped as the list of requests grew. "Please, Peter, we're family - you owe it to me. I've nobody else to turn to!"

"You never changed a diaper in your life and now that you're getting on in years, you expect me to pay others to wipe your ass? You're unbelievable!"

"I'll always remember what you said the last time we met. That you hoped you could be a better man than me. Well? I'm giving you a chance to prove it."

Peter ground his teeth and sighed. "Fine. I'll get you your nurses."

It cost only a few thousand dollars to purchase the pair of used Pleasure Puppets online. As luck would have it, they came with nurse outfits included, skimpy latex tunics stretched over the supple silicone sacks bolted to the front of their plastic shells. They were cheap on account of their thorough, vigorous usage, despite being listed as 'Barely Used'. Peter wouldn't have had it any other way, though he did spend time with a pressure hose cleansing out their orifices. He dreaded to think how many men had been inside those animatronic sex puppets, both physically and neurologically.

His father was snoozing in his wheelchair as Peter slipped the NeuraLink visor over his head. There came the whir of microscopic bone drills as the electronics penetrated the skull, seeking out key synapses to interface with, wirelessly rerouting sensory and motor data from the human spine to the surrogate bodies. As his father's body went limp, the dolls awoke. They moved with perfect synchronicity, grasping their bodies and faces with twinned horror. Their movements were limited, with a forced sensuality from the subroutines of their Pleasure Puppet bodies. They turned to look at each other, almost falling over as his father's mind struggled with the disorientation of seeing himself from two angles, while his true body slumped in the chair between them.

"What the hell have you done to me?!" the two dolls spoke in unison, other subroutines forcing their words into lustful moans.

Peter pulled the two dolls into his arms. His hands played across their silicone asses. "Nothing has changed. You never cared for anyone but yourself - so why change the habit of a lifetime? I'll let you live in my house, I'll even pay for your medicine, but the only help you'll get is from yourself. You'll be your own nurses, tending to yourself from within these sextoys."

The Pleasure Puppets squirmed in his embrace. He let them go. They staggered clumsily towards their true body, reaching for the NeuraLink headset.

"Of course, you're welcome to remove it and leave any time you wish," Peter smiled. "But I think you were actually genuine when you said you had nobody else to turn to. It may be the first honest thing you ever said to me. You've made your bed. Now you can lie in it."