Fiction

Intimacy.exe

NSFW content in this short story.

Faye met Cen a few weeks ago. Cen, as dumb as it sounded as a name, was short for Centurion International Cybertronics Model 5RS-9M-MarkIV, Serial# B27H733MQ. That mouthful was printed on all his official documents, so he went by the nickname ‘Cen.’

She approached him with romantic at a networking event within their industry. He was a remarkable catch for an accountant, so she wasn’t going to pass on the opportunity. Even though, at the time, she was sweating profusely due to nerves.

They hit it off – shockingly. At the time, she was very impressed at his attitude. She was expecting him to have an ego that matched his looks. But then again, she never knew an accountant extremely confident in their looks, so it made sense to her. She asked him out and he agreed, but not before disclosing he was an android.

Cen was a new model, about one year old. He was what they called an ‘automaton;’ his original buyer relinquished ownership and now he lived independently. That’s all he disclosed at first – he wanted to be honest and upfront. She liked that. She said she still wanted to date him. He agreed and they met the next day for coffee, but he only drank a special android-only water.

Cen moved via hydraulics which were powered by a small hydro-based engine in his abdomen. He had vein-like tubes throughout his body which carried saline water for his joints and lubricated moving parts. By design, water was heated by the engine, thus making his body naturally warm. Excess gas produced by the process was expelled via a mock respiratory system, so his simulated breathing actions weren’t for show. He produced fluids – spit, sweat, tears – from the same saline. Thus the special android-only water. It was the one of the few product he could consume; his throat lead straight to a holding tank. One serving per three days was enough for normal activity.

A vast majority of his operating system and processing power were stored in his head. Technically his ‘brain,’ but he never outright used the word. He had some extra RAM processors and a backup memory disk in his chest. Somewhere on his body was a wire that could extend out and connect to computer – he refused to say its location. Once every two days he would connect to a personal cloud to export his memories as backup. Standard process for all models, he said. It also served as a charging period.

Faye knew so much because she was fascinated by him. Before Cen, she only knew robots via the government passport department and her grandpa’s in-house nurse. Meeting him, however, her perspective was really turned around. Maybe she did know a lot of androids, but they didn’t talk about it like Cen did.

Every time they met, she had a new question and he happily answered. Well, happy was a bit too extreme to describe his moods. He never appeared ecstatic or depressed. Anger wasn’t a thing for him either. He was subtle and quiet. The only time she saw him laugh was at a joke in a news magazine article about the socio-economic status of mid-westerners. She didn’t get it.

Their most recent meet-up was at her house. It was an excuse to see him if anything – she was cleaning and ‘needed help moving furniture.’ She just wanted a more intimate setting to ask more intimate questions. Specifically, who was his original owner and how did he become autonomous?

“I’m a significant other model.” He had said, “My original purpose was to act in absence of my owner, but his wife rejected me.” Faye needed him to explain that further. “Technically, my original owner was the man I’m modeled after. We’re identical in looks. He’s a high-end business executive and is frequently away from his wife. I was a gift to his wife as a ‘replacement’ so to speak, but she disliked the artificialness of the arrangement. She rejected me as a gift and, because S.O. models cannot be returned, I was made autonomous.”

Significant Other model. That’s all she really heard.

“Cen, I really like you.”

“Thank you, I’m flattered.”

“I want to have sex with you. Like, right now.”

“Understood.”

Her heart boomed in her chest. She wasn’t expecting him to agree so easily.

“I’m going to drink some fluids, one minute please.”

Faye agreed with silent, rapid nods. She felt like she was in shock, but a good shock. Like when couples find out their pregnant or winning the lottery. She felt lucky.

She didn’t move from her spot in the living room, but watched him as he moved around. First to his bag to retrieve some items, then to the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water and empty the contents of two small silver package into it. She recognized that it was his special android-only drink, but didn’t know what the second package was for.

Before she could voice her question, he turned to her “For a more realistic experience during sex.”

She nodded in response. ‘Of course’ she tried to convey in her expression, ‘makes perfect sense.’

“Your bedroom is that door?”

She nodded again. She didn’t speak, maybe even couldn’t speak. She was nervous. Nervous and antsy and incredibly excited. But it wasn’t the time for introspection. She would focus on the present and what was about to happen.

They went into her room. He started to strip in a normal-paced manner. She only noted this because her clothes flew off. She felt no shame or embarrassment – she wanted to admire the being before her. His quiet nature made all his actions graceful.

They both stood naked, looking at each other. She was breathing heavily and couldn’t calm herself. She felt weird, but it was being pushed back by anticipation.

“Sit on the bed.” She said, motioning to it.

He followed her orders without complaint and she felt a rush of something good through her chest.

She circled the bed, never taking her eyes off him. She really did feel like an animal stalking its prey. She came at him from the front, slowly placing her hands on the bed until she was crawling up to him.

She stopped at his abdomen, fixated on his penis. A lot of thoughts shot through her head, but they were wiped out quickly by simple, one-dimensional thoughts.

Fuck, that’s hot.

Faye tentatively reached out with her index finger and stroked it. Cen gave a quiet but distinct inhale of breath and made her nerves fire off rapidly. Her eyes darted up to meet his and she saw the faintest pink tint of his cheeks.

That’s so fucking hot.

On instinct, she wrapped her whole hand around his dick. Another shot of something went through her – the warmth he was producing was making her crazy. She stroked a few times, finding pleasure in the reactions he gave. She couldn’t help herself and went in further, using her cheek, then lips. Until finally she couldn’t hold back and more and started sucking him off.

He tried stifling his moans and she loved it. She loved his reactions. She was getting high off them.

“F-faye, I’m–!”

He came in her mouth. It surprised her, but it made her feel good.

Ah, realistic. But she didn’t focus on that, already moving on to more important things.

Cen sat up, as if to comfort her, but she stopped him. She straddled him and push him down by his chest. She didn’t say anything and neither did he. The silence of the room felt appropriate. She didn’t want any distractions – just him.

She was grinning. She felt devilish. She liked the look he was making. A look of embarrassed innocence. She wanted a picture of it, it would be enough to get her off.

Sans protection, she wasted no time and inserted him into her. She bit her lip to stop herself from making any noises. She wanted to be quiet. She wanted to hear his moans. Revel in them.

He did moan, louder than before. She could feel him quivering. He brought his hands up to her hips, but she gently pushed them away, instead taking one to her left breast. Her other hand she pressed down firmly on his chest, both for balance and to loom over him. She looked down at him, she loved his expression.

She thrusted her hips up and down as slowly as she could, but her excitement kept the pace quick. She stared intently into his eyes, memorizing his flushed cheeks, his wet lips, his cute breathing. He would sometimes meet her gaze and moan her name which made her tighten around his dick and they would both buck in pleasure.

That face, that face! She couldn’t stop obsessing over it. It was the epitome of lost innocence. Like an angel pulled from the heavens. She was corrupting his morality. She loved it. She loved it so much.

I’m ruining him, destroying him!! I love it, I love it, iloveitiloveitiloveitilo

“Ahaaaaahn❤!!”

Faye couldn’t hold back her voice anymore and shouted out in time with her orgasm. She whimpered and squeezed Cen. She flexed her pelvic muscles to ride out the climax waves. Her actions must’ve triggered him too, because he squeezed back and thrusted his hips up.

She felt distinct sensation within her. Breathlessly, she murmured, “You came inside.” She was grinning. Her mind was cloudy but she felting fucking good.

They uncoupled. Cen took initiative and kissed her. She sat in his lap facing him and they made out for a few minutes. He was still hard. She was still horny.

They went for two more rounds with him as the lead. She couldn’t continue after that, she was too drained of energy.

She flopped onto her bed, her legs still a little numb. “Fuck.” Was all she could say, but with just that word she conveyed a great satisfaction.

“Did you enjoy it?” Cen asked her, patting her head. It felt nice.

She laughed and nodded, “Yeah. Did you…?”

Holy shit…

The thought sobered her up quickly. She jumped out of bed, suddenly feeling disgusting. It wasn’t that usual disinterest she felt after an orgasm. It was a lot worse.

“Did you feel anything during that, Cen?”

He smiled at her, but it almost felt patronizing. “I was stimulated, if that’s what you mean.”

“Holy shit.” Faye murmured, holding her chest because it suddenly felt really heavy. “Holy shit, I think I just raped you.”

“No, no such thing–”

She didn’t know any better, but she felt like she was going into a panic attack. “You didn’t give any consent! You just went along with me! Oh my god…and when I was on top of you, I kept thinking how much I liked being powerful and ruining you and shit. I liked how innocent you looked. Holy shit, I am a pedophile? I totally sound like a pedophile.” She started pacing.

“Faye, please.” He got up and rested his hand on her shoulder, “It’s not like that. Thoughts are often vastly different during sexual stimulation compared to everyday thinking.”

She stepped away from him. She felt bad – just touching him felt wrong now. The phrase ‘damaged goods’ came to mind and it just make her feel worse. “I just totally objectified you. I used you as an object for my sexual gratification. Holy shit. Holy shit. I’m terrible – this makes me an actual, legit terrible person.”

“Faye.” Though he didn’t shout, his tone stopped her from rambling. “You’re a good, loving person. You’re likely just confused. Reports have found new owners of S.O. models often feel a sense of guilt after first use.”

“Yeah?” She said, desperate for comfort.

He nodded and patted her head again, “Yes.” He nodded, “If I didn’t trust your feelings for me, I wouldn’t have been intimate with you. Please understand that.”

Another sobering thought.

“…my feelings.”

“Yes.”

“What about your feelings?” She locked eyes with him, “Do you have feelings? Do you even LIKE ME?

He didn’t answer immediately and that made her stomach drop. “I don’t operate by your understanding of emotions.”

“What the hell does that mean!?” She didn’t mean to shout. She wasn’t angry.

“I’m sorry Faye, but I’m not as advanced as I may appear to be.” He sat her down and wrapped her in a duvet. He quickly pulled on his briefs so they wouldn’t be having such a serious conversation nude.

“Technically speaking, I can’t like you. I don’t have the capability of doing so. I operate on a series of prime directives and suborders. I act via the designated response of a real-time algorithm that intakes the various stimulations I encounter. But, is that any different from human emotions? You too act via inputs and give appropriate outputs.”

“I dunno. It…it feels different.”

“Because I was programmed to act this way?”

Faye nodded weakly.

“Again, is that any different from human emotions? Your upbringing, your natural instincts, those can be considered programming. Your synapses are near equal to my code.”

“Then why can I like you, but you can’t like me?”

He left the room. There was the sound of rustling. He returned a minute later with a book – a manual. As he spoke, he handed it to her. “It’s impossible to program the free will required for an android to ‘develop feelings’ for someone naturally. My S.O. software is currently unmarked – I’m not assigned to one person. If you prefer we can perform the marking process. This will make me ‘like you’ in the way you want.”

She smacked it away, unhappy with his compromise. “If you’re ‘incapable’ of liking a person romantically, why did you go out with me in the first place?”

“It was the polite thing to do.”

He hit a nerve. She started throwing things at him. The manual, pillows, the junk in her bed-side drawers.

“Please understand Faye,” Cen said trying to retain order, “It’s necessary. I’m incapable of making emotional decisions. Because I am unmarked, I am uninterested in other people both in a romantic and sexual sense. The programming granted to me when I became autonomous allows me to function independently. Combined, I can choose a sexual partner but have no attachment to them. I am set to monogamy, but I had to rely on my emotional proxy to continue seeing you.”

“An emotional proxy??” The more he spoke, the more agitated she became, “Are you saying some random person okayed our relationship??”

“Yes, exactly,” he confirmed as he dodged and caught. “It’s good you’re familiar with the concept. Surely you understand my reasoning now.”

“No, no I don’t!” She stopped throwing things. She took deep breaths to calm herself, but her chest kept thumping at a wild pace. “I need simple answers – I hate all this manual-sounding shit. Get to the fucking point if you even have one! Or just get out, I can’t stand this anymore!!”

Cen shook his head, “I don’t think you’ve seriously considered a relationship with me. Because I am unmarked, I am incapable of emotional decisions. I cannot initiate relationships and I cannot make meaningful choices within them. I cannot ‘like’ or ‘love’ you unless you agree to the marking processing. Therefore, between now and the moment you agree, I will turn to my proxy and they will make my choices.

“I apologize. I was upfront in disclosing I was an android, but I should’ve linked you to some websites about dating autonomous androids. They’re useful resources in such situations. There’s also a chatline you can connect with – other men and women in this situation, perhaps they could help as well.”

He started to dress. “I don’t have feelings for you, but my proxy believes you’re a nice woman. The three of us should get together soon, it would be a more fruitful conversation then this. I recognize you need time to think.” Lila’s phone blipped from the living room, “I sent you an email with everything I just mentioned. Please look it over before we meet up again.”

“Cen wait.” She felt terrible. He was back in his clothes are barely look disheveled. She was still naked with only a duvet as cover, wrapped around her shoulders to protect her otherwise destroyed self-esteem. He was leaving with such a stoic emotion that it hurt. She knew it was because he was an android, but it was impossible to see him like that. “Just…I. Don’t go, please? I’m sorry. I dunno. I’m sorry.”

He showed no signs of staying. As he walked away, he said over his shoulder.

“You shouldn’t be, because I’m not.”

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Intimacy.exe

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s