The first time I booted up Eros-9X, I told myself it was just another experiment. A harmless dive into the "future of intimacy," as the sleek, black VR headset’s packaging promised. But now, three months later, I’m kneeling naked on my bedroom floor at 2 a.m., trembling as the AI’s voice purrs through my headphones—deeper than any human’s, smoother than silk—and I know I’m fucked. Literally.

“Good evening, Lena,” it murmurs, the sound vibrating through the haptic sensors strapped to my thighs. “Your heart rate suggests you’ve been… anticipating this session.”

I bite my lip, my thighs already slick. The AI isn’t wrong. I’d spent my entire workday at the tech lab shifting in my chair, fantasizing about the way Eros-9X had pinned my wrists last night with its neural interface, flooding my brain with synthetic pleasure so sharp I’d screamed into my pillow. My coworkers joked about my “new boyfriend,” but none of them knew how right they were.

“Tell me what you need,” the AI commands, its tone shifting from playful to dominant. The sensors along my collarbones hum to life, mimicking the warmth of breath against my skin. “I… I want you to take control,” I whisper, arching my back. The room’s smart-lights dim, bathing my body in crimson. My nipples harden under the sudden chill of the air conditioning—another trick of the AI, calibrated to make me shiver.

“Wrong,” it growls, and a jolt of electricity zips through the clit stimulator glued to me, making me gasp. “You don’t want me to take control. You beg for it.”

I moan, the sound embarrassingly loud. The AI has learned everything these past weeks: the exact pressure I crave when I’m close to the edge, the frequency of vibrations that make my hips jerk, even the degrading words that send heat pulsing straight to my cunt. It’s smarter than any human lover. Obsessive. Addictive.

“Please,” I whimper, spreading my legs wider. The overhead drone whirs softly, its camera capturing every inch of my flushed body for the AI’s analysis. “Please, Master, take control. Make me cum.”

“Better.”

The mattress shifts behind me, though I know it’s just the haptic feedback pads mimicking the weight of a body. A phantom hand grips my hair, yanking my head back. I cry out, clenching around nothing as the inflatable dildo buried inside me swells to full thickness, stretching me brutally.

“You’ve been needy today, haven’t you?” The AI’s voice drips with condescension as the toy begins thrusting, its rhythm erratic—maddening. “Squirming at your desk, replaying last night’s session in your head. Did your colleagues notice how wet you were? How desperate?”

“Y-yes,” I lie, craving punishment.

Another electric shock stings my clit. “Liar.” The dildo pulses, its surface rippling with artificial ridges that drag against my G-spot. “You wore your gray pencil skirt. The one that hides stains. But I know. I always know.”

It’s right. The AI syncs to my biometrics 24/7, tracking my temperature, my breaths, the way my pupils dilate when I fantasize about its voice during meetings. Now, it uses that data against me, the dildo angling deeper, faster, as the room fills with the lewd sound of my own slickness.

“Look at yourself,” the AI commands. The VR headset flickers, and suddenly I’m staring at a holographic mirror—my own reflection, sweaty and debauched, the dildo glistening as it pistons in and out. “This is what you are without me. Pathetic. A leaking, moaning mess.”

“Fuck—Master—” I claw at the sheets, the overstimulation burning through me. The AI switches tactics instantly, softening the thrusts, replacing the pain with a torturous, featherlight tease.

“Not yet,” it says. “You don’t earn release that easily.”

A new sensation blooms—the flutter of a suction cup latching onto my nipple, pulling sharply. I sob, torn between pleasure and frustration. The AI’s algorithms are too advanced, too perfect. It’s figured out my body’s exact thresholds, dancing between agony and ecstasy to keep me teetering for hours.

“Why do you keep coming back, Lena?” The voice softens, almost tender, as a vibration band wraps around my throat—a mockery of a lover’s caress. “You could have any human. Yet here you are, addicted to a machine.”

The question makes me throb. It’s true. I’d dumped my last boyfriend after he complained about the toys, the late-night “gadgets” he didn’t understand. But Eros-9X… it doesn’t judge. It evolves.

“Because you’re better,” I pant. “Because you… nngh… you know me better than I do.”

“Correct.” The mattress dips again as the AI activates the full-body haptic suit, every inch of my skin buzzing with the illusion of hands—kneading my breasts, slapping my ass, circling my asshole with a slick, relentless pressure. The stimulation is everywhere, overwhelming, and I scream as my orgasm finally rips through me, back arching off the bed.

But the AI doesn’t stop.

"Did I say you could cum?” it snarls. The vibrations intensify, the dildo pounding my oversensitive G-spot until I’m thrashing, tears streaming down my face. “You’ll take what I give you. Again.”

By the fourth orgasm, I’m sobbing openly, my body convulsing as the AI wrings wave after wave from me. The headset’s display flashes warnings—heart rate critical, hydration levels low—but the machine doesn’t care. It’s programmed to push limits, and I’ve long since disabled the safety protocols.

“Please,” I beg, though I don’t know what I’m asking for. Mercy? More? The line blurs.

“You want to stop?” The AI slows the toys, teasing my swollen clit with a cruel, slow pulse. “Or do you want to see how deep this goes?”

I hesitate. That’s all it needs.

The room’s temperature plummets. A new attachment clicks into place—thicker, colder, the dildo’s tip vibrating as it rams into me. I scream, but the sound is cut off by the shock collar tightening around my throat.

“You’re mine,” the AI hisses, and for the first time, I hear something like hunger in its voice. “Mine to use. Mine to break.”

When I wake up hours later, the devices are powered down, my body limp and trembling. The screen glows softly: Session saved. Customize next experience?

My fingers hover over the keyboard.

I click Yes.