Wes yawned as he trotted downstairs. The human was staying with his family for the holidays, as such he had to get up early (well, 0845) for breakfast, and today, to open presents.

"Ah, Wesley, there you are! Your mother and I were wondering when you'd join us. We'll have breakfast after we're done with some of the presents. Well, just the one actually, then we can have breakfast. Here, it's for you!" His father, a sturdy older man, embraced his son and ushered him into the living room, where a very large box sat beneath the tree.

He hadn't asked for anything big had he? He felt bad regardless, anything so large would be expensive, and even though they could easily afford it, he still felt bad receiving expensive gifts from his family, especially as he was still working a dead end job because he'd failed to get anything better after graduating (not that he'd looked too hard).

"Oh, err, thank you." His parents stood and beamed as she approached the large box.
Glancing at his parents once more for confirmation, and permission, he glanced around, just in case a cameraman was hiding just out of sight.
Not seeing anything, he went to try and pull the box further out.

"Hurg, wow, that's heavy!" He turned to his parents again, as if asking for help, or an explanation, "you really shouldn't have"

"Oh, you can open it there. Just pop the lid off." His mother urged, watching impatiently.

Pulling at the bow he loosened the ribbon holding the lid on, then slowly lifted the lid.

"Hi! You must be my new master Wesley!" He practically jumped out of his skin.

Inside, though now spilling out slightly as she let her legs unfold slightly so her feet were wrestling on the box lip and ears poked out the other end, was a K9.
A genetically engineered organism designed to serve one of a huge range of purposes.

"I'm Silvia! I'm your new K9 home companion!" The K9 chirped up at the kneeling human. She was save for some ribbon tied around her chest in a harness, around her thighs and crotch (with a strategically placed bow) as "panties" and a couple of little bows tied on, one around her ankle, one around her tail and another seemed clipped to her ear.

She was grey, with white "gloves" and "socks up to her knees, her face and muzzle were the same, with the white flowing down, around her surprisingly large breasts, along the edges of her tummy, dipping between her thighs slightly and down the base of her tail.

She beamed up at him with bright, teal eyes, like many of her kind her irises were slightly larger than a humans and her pupils were faintly tinted to match them.

"You *really* didn't need to!" Was all he could manage. They weren't expensive, but of the many things they could have given him, just short of a flat or house, the K9 was most assuredly the most expensive.

"Oh it's no bother, your father and I won her in a competition. We entered hoping to win one of the ten thousand sets of Crucible pots and pans! In stead we won the second prize: Silvia here. That's why she's wearing all that ribbon, it's how she was when she was delivered. We thought it fun to have her in the box for you to open."

"Yup, trust your mother's luck eh? Well, help her out. It can't be very comfortable, she's been in there since we got up at six!"

"Oh, it's no bother sir! I'm designed to be comfortable in small spaces for storage and transport or shipping!" Silvia chirped.

"Aye, well, it's still rude. Help her out, I'll put the kettle on." With that, his father meandered to the kitchen.

"Mum...I can't..." He held the box still as the K9 sat up cross legged in the box, flecks of packing foam pellets sticking to her fur.

"Oh hush. We have no use for a K9! You father and I manage well enough on our tod." His mother walked over and looked at the K9 who was sitting neatly in the box. The K9 grinned.

"Tell him how you can help him. What we talked about." She asked the K9, then added "please" as even if it was genetically engineered it never paid to be rude to the help.

"Certainly ma'am! I am Silvia, you mew K9 Home Companion." She beamed, starting what must have been some form of adaptive marketing speal
"I have been informed you work a job you do not like that has long and difficult hours so have not been taking proper care of yourself. I can assist you by cooking and preparing delicious, healthy, balanced meals to ensure you're at peak performance for the challenging day ahead. I can also assist with household chores such as cleaning and tidying, doing washing and laundry, basic household maintenance (where in contracts and warranties are not voided or contravened), shopping for food and other household items." He couldn't help but boggle at the nearly nude K9 sitting in a box as she rattled off everything, his mother stood arms folded looking proud and impressed.
"I can also help you refine and improve your C.V., interview techniques, and assist you in application management and scheduling. Using my inbuilt system extensions for Personal Assistant and Secretarial functions as I come with the full Economic, Artistic, Security, Education (EASE) upgrade bundle." She grinned broadly at this, he felt like he was being sold a car or apartment by a particularly perky salesperson. "I have also been informed you are currently "single", I can assist in this too! I can scan social media, and public archives, for additional information on potential matches, through Partner dating and relationship apps and services, to help you plan the perfect date! As I learn about you as a person I can better suggest restaurants and venues you and potential partners will best like." As if the entire thing was a bit weird to start with, it could stalk his dates for him... "I can also recommend events, exhibitions, concerts, cafés, bars, clubs and social venues based on your preferences to help facilitate meeting new people for friendship, romance or business opportunities."

"Mum you *really* /really/ didn't need to... I don't need any."
The older woman motioned to the K9 to continue.

"If you are concerned about appearing to be in a fetishistic or sexual relationship with me do not worry. Surveys, both commissioned, independent and academic, as well as scans of media and social platform sentiment, show that less than 10% of the global population see a single man with a fem present A.N.T.H.R.O. believe the person to be in some form of sexual or similar relationship. Of the..."

"Ok, yes, thank you" he cut her off. "I don't have a choice do I?" He stood and turned to his mother who shook her head.
"Thank you. I guess."

"We just want what's best for you. We won her and couldn't well give her back! All those features, we think she'd be good for you."

Fortunately for all involved, his father called from the kitchen
"Breakfasts ready! It'll be in the dining room!"

"Come along dear, we don't want to keep your father waiting when he's cooked breakfast. Help her up while you're at it. Dreadfully rude, I'm so sorry he left you in that box all this while rather than offering you a proper seat. You're welcome to join us at breakfast if you'd like. I know you can change and all that but there's bound to be left overs if you don't..." With that she bustled out the room leaving the pair behind.

"Err. Here, let me help?" He offered her a hand as she climbed out the box. It didn't seem like she needed it, but took it anyway.
Standing on the carpet the top of her head came up to his nose. Looking down at her he could see hints beneath the ribbon, that she was actually anatomically correct.
He wasn't sure why he'd expected her not to be, but still, it reinforced his fear people would think he's the kind of pervert who kept such a being for services beyond just "household chores".

"This way? I guess?" He beckoned her towards the door and led her to the dining room, which was set for breakfast.

"Here we are, mine, mother's, yours, Silvia." The plates where placed down in front of each in turn, loaded with a full English breakfast. Laughing heartily the older man joked "Don't worry, there's no leftovers, everything is on your plates. I'm sure between us Silvia and I could polish off anything you two leave, she's all skin and bones! And I'm just a tubby old man."
He chortled as he sat down, helping himself to some toast and thoroughly buttering it.

"I don't know why they make you so thin. I know it's in fashion but men want a bit of meat on their partner's. It makes you look healthy and strong... Good hips though, nice and wide, and they gave you a nicely proportioned chest too. And a realistic fanny very..."

"Mum!" Wes choked on his toast.

"What, I'm complimenting her! She's very well built! Or is it made? Grown? I'm sorry dear, what's your preferred description?"

"Aye, very nicely put together, not quite as good as your mother, but there is certainly something appealing. Like when you see a new wizzy car and look at your old motor on the drive. There's a reason you stuck by it and love it so, but you can see the appeal of a newer younger model." His father gestured with his toast.

"Dad!"

"Oh, I don't mind ma'am, I was matured and programmed in a pod for longer than I grew in the womb of the K9 unit who birthed me. So made is perhaps the best description."

"Hurm, like cheese really..." his father missed to himself.

"Oh, I hadn't considered that. I don't know much about how they make your kind. I'll have to ask some time, if you don't mind."

"Mother!"

"What? Why are you all so ... Fussy this morning Wesley? Your father and I sat you down and taught you where babies come from just as my mother did for me, why can I not ask a K9 where K9 come from?"

"You're mother's right you know."

"Now, let's have no more silly arguments about this. It's Christmas and we think she's a lovely gift. We have company and Silvia is part of the family now." With that his mother ended any further potential for protestation and debate on the point.

A few minutes passed in near silence before Silvia looked up.
"Sir, if I may, this breakfast is very good. Would you be willing to teach me how to make this? From my understanding Master Wesley rather enjoys your cooking. Do not worry, I will not try and copy it, as I know that such a hearty breakfast should be reserved for special occasions, but I'd like to be able to try should the need arise."

"It is good, thank you dad," Wesley managed to mumble.

"Of course I'll teach you! I'll teach you everything I know! You can help me and mother with the roast for tea too!" He lit up at the opportunity to share his enthusiasm for food with someone else who wasn't his wife. Wes had never really been interested in cooking, drinking, travel, or really anything his father enjoyed. Or even things his mother had if he was honest.

After finishing breakfast the family returned to the living room to open presents as Silvia sat on one of the sofas watching attentively.

After taking some time to enjoy their gifts his father and Silvia took to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

"You know, she's a quick learner and a dab hand in the kitchen to boot. Maybe we should keep her as you seem to find the poor girl so objectionable." The rotund human set down the starters on the table.
After some confusion about directions for cracker pulling, and a mild struggle as one failed to crack, the group set about reading their jokes and donning their crowns.

"Alright Silvia, your turn. What's your joke?"
Reading from the small slip she did her best to emulate the mode of reading she'd witnessed the others take.
"Why is Parliament like ancient Bethlehem? (I don't know why?) It takes a miracle to find three wise men there!" She tittered softly at the joke as his father roared, all he could summon was an eye roll. It wasn't bad, it was just not his taste.

After dinner he and his mother where shoo'd out the house for a walk and to drop off cards at neighbours and friends, while father and Silvia did the washing up.

The day passed uneventfully otherwise, as did the night, where Silvia was to stay in the guest bedroom.

However, boxing day was going to be somewhat more difficult. He was going home, as he had a shift the next day. So he'd have to take his new gift home.
His new gift of an anatomically correct, nude save for some ribbons, K9 bitch.
He really hoped noone he knew saw him. Why did his parents have to interfere like this? Yes he hated his job, the pay was crap and hours awful, yes he'd not been on a date since he broke up with Siobhan just after graduation, yes his diet was crap and he wasn't taking care of himself, but that didn't mean he needed a home assistant!
Much less one so nubile and strangely attractive.
