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âWhat do you mean, itâs weird? Get with the times, man! Everyone thought being a homosexual was weird a couple of decades ago, but itâs completely normal now. You donât bat an eye when you see two guys making out at the club, but youâre gonna frown and shake your head when Iâm making out with her?â Daniel gestured at a bodacious blonde sitting to his left. Perfect perky double Dâs, platinum blonde hair, cerulean blue eyes, not a single blemish noticeable to the human eye, perfect birthing hips atop an that most men would die to lick and a body sculpted so well it wouldâve made Michelangenoâs nose bleed in comical fashion.
A perfect human specimen. Too perfect in fact. Because she wasnât.
Not perfect. Oh that she was indeed, even I had to admit.
Human.
She was a robot, the latest trend in Silicon Valley, 2050. After all, once AI was developed well enough and cyborgs performed a great many of human functions such as police officers, firefighters, soldiers, construction workers, chefs, teachers even, people inevitably began speculating about the possibility of romancing a robot. And of course, Scandal INC. had now expanded into this territory and was creating androids for this purpose alone. Name. Hair color and length. Height. Skin and eye color. Tattoos. Piercings. Stretchiness of the vagina, ass, throat. Chest and breast size. Pitch of voice. Personality type. Obedience levels. Pain tolerance. The only thing they required was that the subject was designed to think they were completely human. In fact, they were designed to ignore any signs that indicated that they werenât, though there were whispers of models thatâd been moving around the underground black market which were tweaked so that the androids were self-aware. Apparently, it was quite a great release in where the captor reveled over the despair of the androidâs realization what their purpose really was.
âYou should get one, man.â Daniel reached over and slung an arm around his model girlfriend, planting a fat kiss on her cheek.
âWho- me?â I stammered back, taken aback by his suggestion.
âI mean⌠no offense, but youâve been single for a while. And itâs not like youâre particularly smooth with the ladies.â
My shoulders deflated slightly. It was true that the majority of whatever fantasies I lived out existed only in the mind. I strained to think of an excuse, but the only one I could come up with sounded weak, âTheyâre expensive.â
âYouâre a senior engineer. Iâm sure you make enough money. Hell, theyâll probably throw you a discount for some part your team designed on her.â He waved away any other protest that was going to be blabbed out of my mouth. âLook, a robotâs a robot. I remember you even made an argument a year ago about how it was beneficial to legalize robot prostitutes because itâd reduce human trafficking. And now youâre being sketched out by a robot wife? How progressive of you.â He concluded sarcastically as the blonde began to rub her fingers affectionately against his crotch. âThink about it, thereâs only good that could come out of it!â
Itâd taken me a month, but Iâd finally caved. My friend had made some good points. This phenomenon was gaining traction and was already getting quickly accepted by society. The package containing my âpurchaseâ would arrive at 5pm. Iâd left work early, nervously anticipating its arrival in my living room, drumming my fingers against my thigh. I hadnât been sure how to customize the android in terms of personality so Iâd simply requested that theyâd make her adaptive to her surroundings and self-sufficient. After all, I wasnât certain how theyâd code the personalities.
Eventually, the delivery men arrived, deposited the enormous steel coffin-shaped container that housed your body. I signed off on the necessary papers before they left and watched them leave before contemplating the box before me. *Well⌠here goes.â I took a deep breath before powering up the container. Whirring sounds and flashing lights indicated the boot-up process of the androidâs CPU.
The lights and sounds eventually faded away. There was a sudden thump against the inside of the coffin. It took me aback. Had something malfunctioned? And then an angry voice: âWhat kind of sick asshole orders a robot sex slave? Let me the fuck out of this piece of shit you fucking shithead!â
Fuck.
I always wanted to write a prompt somewhat centered around self-aware AI. This roleplay could take multiple directions. The main character canât return the defective model otherwise he would be suspected of tampering with her and likely be jailed, that much he knows. Would the main character be able to convince the android to submit to him? What would he say to her if he had? Would he manage to appeal to the goodness in her âheartâ or would he frighten her with the likelihood of her being destroyed if her self-awareness was discovered? Would he be unable to convince her to maintain the illusion of servitude and be forced to sell her to the black market where she would likely live a lifetime of a humiliation, degradation and total usage as a living cumbucket? Choice is yours.
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