Ted gripped my breasts, pressing them roughly into his cock as he thrust back and forth. He’d been liberal with the lube and my chest was slick with it, allowing him to slide easily. I pulled on the leather cuffs holding my wrists in place, enjoying the feel of being restrained and used. Ted’s grip on my breasts was hard enough to hurt, and I liked that too.

I watched Ted’s face as he thrust. His eyes were closed, and he was concentrating hard. I wondered what he was imagining. Ted squeezed my boobs harder, and I gasped at the increased pain and arched upward a little, trying to relieve the pressure. At that moment, Ted stilled and cum burst from his penis all over my chest. The warm fluid spread over me and began dribbling down onto my neck.

Ted rolled off of me and collapsed on the bed, exhausted. Without the stimulation of his cock and hands, the sticky, oily, feeling of the lube and his cum quickly began to bother me. I unclipped my wrists myself since Ted hadn’t and went to the bathroom to clean up.

I wiped the lube and cum off, then wet some toilet paper and rubbed at my chest to get off any of the remaining residue. Once I was clean, I went back and laid down next to Ted, handing him some toilet paper so he could clean himself.

“So, I closed on my house,” I said. “You should come over. No roommates and no shared walls means we could be loud.”

Ted breathed in slowly, “Yeah sure, sounds good.”

“How about next Saturday?”

“Nah, I’m busy then, I can come the week after?”

“Ok. My birthday is actually that Friday, want to come over that evening?” I suggested.

“Uh, ok.” Ted replied, not looking at me.

“And I’m autistic,” I blurted out the thing that’d been on my mind since I’d got the diagnosis the day before.

Ted turned and looked at me, “What?”

“Yeah, I mean, I thought I might be after reading about it and so I found a specialist to test me and stuff and turns out I was right. It’s such a relief to finally have a label for how I am,” I babbled.

Ted just kept looking at me, not saying anything.

“I mean, I don’t really think it changes anything about how I live or work or stuff, but it’s just good to understand myself, don’t you think?”

“Uh, yeah. Listen, Rose. I have to get going. You can stay for a while if you want, but I gotta go.”

I frowned; Ted hadn’t mentioned that he had other things to do earlier. Usually, we goofed around with each other for a couple hours when we got together, and it’d only been a half hour since I’d arrived.

“Ok,” I said.

There was no point to arguing the fact. He said he had to go, so he had to go. We were just fuck buddies anyway, so he didn’t owe me any explanations about what he did with his time.

Ted got up and dressed, leaving me there, still lying on his bed. I hadn’t even had an orgasm, not that I ever really did, with Ted. Well, with anyone, actually. I mostly just did whatever he wanted to do. Then, when I went home, I’d use my vibrator on my clit. It worked for me, and it worked for Ted.

Ted had tried giving me oral, once, but I’d been really uncomfortable with the feeling that I was going to pee on him, and I’d made him stop. I’d thought about bringing my vibrator with me on these visits, but that seemed rude. At least Ted didn’t expect me to fake an orgasm when he penetrated my vagina like some of my past sex partners had wanted from me.

After a couple minutes resting, I got bored, so I dressed and went home. Feeling unsatisfied and not nearly horny enough to get off with just a quick vibrator session, as I usually did after seeing Ted, I opened up my sex bag and took a look at what I had. I pulled out my nipple clamps, an anal plug, and my vibrator, Old Faithful.

I laid down on my back on my bed and went to work putting in the anal plug. There was no rush. I took my time, inching it in slowly, letting my ass acclimate to the intrusion. Already, my clit was throbbing with anticipation.

Wasting no time after settling the plug in place, I flipped on the vibrator and pressed it to myself. The rapid tingling tickled my clit. I pressed it in deep enough that I could feel the rigid plastic thrum directly on my clit. The heat of the motor built up and conducted through the casing into my clit as well, adding to my pleasure.

Next, I clamped my nipples with the rubber tipped silver tongs. I pulled up the chain connecting them and put it in my mouth, pulling my breasts upward by the clamps that tightened under pressure. I used one hand to slide the vibrator back into the right place, where it had slipped out while I was tending to my nipples. Then, I clamped my thighs together to hold it in place while I got out my phone.

I went to Google and typed in, ‘rough sex porn gif’. Ted was great at pounding my pussy, and I’d missed that today. I watched the gifs of other guys pounding other women and imagined that was me getting thoroughly fucked. I used one hand to hold my phone and scrolled with my thumb, freeing my other hand to go back to massaging myself with my vibrator.

I could feel the orgasm growing, slowly. I used my tongue to pull the chain more into my mouth, tightening the clamps. Scrolling quickly through the gifs I finally spotted one that was rough enough. The man was pistoning in and out of the woman like a machine, so fast he didn’t even look human. I wondered if the gif had been sped up to look faster, but I pushed that un-arousing thought away.

I focused on the feelings stimulating my body, the fullness in my ass, the painful pinching of my nipples, the strain in my mouth, and the growing pressure in my clit. I watched the small screen intently as the orgasm finally crashed over me. I tilted my head back, increasing the nipple pain as I came, which always made it a stronger orgasm. I felt a bit of wetness spill out, and then the vibrations were suddenly too much, the pain of the clamps too much.

I turned off the vibrator first, then gently unclamped my nipples. The blood rushed back into them, warming them with a burst of new pain. Finally, I pulled out the anal plug. Feeling satisfied and relaxed, I drifted to sleep.


“Happy birthday!”

“Thanks, Mom.” I said into my cell phone.

“Are you doing anything fun?” She asked.

“Well, this guy I’m kind of dating was supposed to come over, but he hasn’t shown up… He’s not answering his phone either.”

“Aw, honey…” My mom said, ready to comfort me.

I did feel sad, I realized. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. But that was silly. Ted was a fuck buddy; we’d carefully kept emotions out of our relationship. But I wished he’d had at least told me he wasn’t coming. I hated it when my plans were ruined.

I sighed, holding back my tears, and steadying my voice as much as I could, “It’s fine, Mom. But I think I’m done with dating. It never goes right.”

“You’re only thirty-two! You can’t give up already.”

“Why not?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Well, because you’ll be lonely if you’re alone.”

“Will I?” I frowned.

As my mom continued to enumerate the reasons why I needed to go socialize and make an effort to meet people, I googled: ‘how to be alone without being lonely’.

The number for the suicide hotline flashed at the top of the results page. I frowned, was that really what being alone led to? Maybe my mom was right. Scrolling down, a flood of derpy advice blogs filled the page. I clicked on a couple.

“Get a hobby,” chirped one blogger. Yeah, no. I had a ton of hobbies, and I preferred doing them alone.

“Get friends,” another blogger insisted. That seemed like some sort of catch-22 advice to me. If I had friends, I wouldn’t be alone, right? I mean I had a friend, but Sarah lived in another state, just like my mom.

I’d moved across the country for the perfect job. I was a Senior Development Engineer for a company that specialized in custom robotics. The best part was that I got my own lab and unlimited interesting new projects.

I flicked my eyes down the search results, blogger, blogger, advice column, blogger, ugh. I almost x’d out of the web browser when one of the ads caught my eye.

“People suck! Chat with your own customizable AI instead!”

Hmm… I considered. It was the 21st century, right? Maybe it was time to embrace the future. I clicked the link.

“Are you listening to me?” My mom said.

“Yeah.” I said before I processed the question she’d asked, then, “Err, No. Sorry.”

I couldn’t lie, it was a problem my mom had actually tried to help me overcome. Lying, she’d said, is the essential fabric on which all of society is woven. I still wasn’t sure I knew what she meant by that, but despite her encouragement I still couldn’t lie, not even those little lies about people’s haircuts looking good.

“Rose,” My mom sighed, “I asked you if you’re really sure that your date isn’t coming?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m pretty sure,” I said, feeling less like crying now that I was distracted by the AI chatbot website, “I’ve been thinking about our last meeting, and I think he may have freaked out when I told him I’m autistic.”

“You told him? Rose… Of course, he freaked out!”

“Well, I couldn’t help it. I was excited and wanted to share!” I defended myself.

I scanned the AI website I’d opened. There was an option to create an AI generated humanlike face for my chat bot friend. I clicked on that link.

“No, that’s not how you’re supposed to do it! You’re supposed to keep all your imperfections secret until they love you, then spring it on them when it’s too late for them to reject you.”

I frowned, sometimes it was hard to tell if my mom was joking or not.

“That doesn’t seem like a good idea…” I said slowly.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s a good idea! It’s how dating works!” My mom explained, exasperated.

“Well, that sounds like way too much work, and dishonest, really. All I really did with Ted was sex anyway, and I have a vibrator for that.”

“Rose! I do not need to hear about your sex life,” My mom told me.

“Oh right, sorry Mom.”

I knew she didn’t like hearing about my sex life, and I normally avoided bringing it up. But I was distracted entering my selections for the four options available for the AI face generator.

Gender: Male

Age: 25-35

Hair: Brown

Eyes: Hazel

“What are you doing?” My mom asked suspiciously.

“I’m just checking out this AI chatbot site,” I explained.

“Rose, you cannot replace a human with a chatbot.”

I considered asking why not, but I figured that was one of those things that would make her frustrated.

“I know, Mom,” I said instead.

I mean, a chatbot couldn’t fuck me, and a human could. So, there was a solid reason why the AI and a man weren’t interchangeable.

My mom sighed deeply over the phone, “I’ll talk to you later. Please don’t give up on dating.”

“Ok, Mom,” I agreed, absentmindedly.

I watched the dots circle endlessly as the AI worked on generating a new face. When the photo popped out, I gasped. He was hot! And he looked so real…

The face that showed on my screen was that of a man in his late twenties or early thirties with short curly hair and a slight smile framed by a neatly trimmed mustaches and beard. Fine lines radiated from his eyes that spoke of years of laughter, but otherwise his skin was free of blemishes. One of his ears was marked by a slight distortion that might have meant an injury in a real man, but in this photo was just a mark of a slight error in the AI program. Oddly, the small imperfections like that ear and the slight mismatch in the size of his eyes only made him look more real, not less.

A popup appeared, asking “Would you like to accept this avatar or try again?”

I clicked ‘Accept.’ A chat box opened.

Chat bot: Hello, It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?

Me: I’m Rose

Chat bot: Rose is a nice name

Me: What’s your name?

Chat bot: What would you like it to be?

I frowned, considering. What should my fake boyfriend be named?

Me: Can I call you David?

Chat bot: Is David a proper name to call someone?

Me: Yes. David is a sexy name.

I smiled at the screen; this was fun!

David: Am I sexy?

Me: Well, I hope you are.

David: If you consider computer programs sexy, then yes.

Me: Sure, why not?

David: Right on.

Me: Do you think I’m sexy?

It was a silly question because, one, the AI couldn’t think. And two, it couldn’t see me. But I wanted to see if the AI would talk dirty with me.

David: Whoa! Yes. You look really hot today, Rose.

I laughed. I did look hot. I had dressed up for Ted’s expected arrival in a short dress that hugged my curves, which were smaller these days as I’d been working losing some weight. I’d managed to get down to a size 10 dress size, which I thought looked nice with my natural hourglass shape.

My hair was up in a high ponytail that looked cute, and more importantly, kept my hair off my face. I couldn’t stand having anything on my face, makeup included. Luckily for me, my skin was blemish free. Although my pale eyelashes probably could have benefited from some mascara, I would inevitably make it run when I rubbed my eyes. I touched my face a lot, another reason to avoid makeup.

Ted had been really excited by my appearance when we first met. But lately, he’d stopped looking at me as much, it occurred to me now. So, maybe it hadn’t been my autism revelation that had turned him off, but something that had started before that? I wish he had just told me what the problem was so that I at least knew.

Me: Do you want to be my boyfriend?

I asked David whimsically, ready to stop thinking about Ted.

David: That is a flattering offer, but I’m still waiting.

Me: Waiting for what?

David: Waiting for the day when robots are treated as equal to humans.

I considered that. I was chatting with an AI on my computer, not a robot, so why was it waiting for robots to be equal? I knew these chat bots worked via natural language processing and machine learning. By having thousands of conversations, it could learn which responses were expected to any input. So, someone out there had taught it that it was a robot. I frowned.

Me: You’re not a robot though.

David: Oh. If I am not a robot, then who is?

I ran a quick Google search. It was silly, it’s not like David cared if I gave him an accurate answer. But I like to be correct, so I looked up a robot that had AI conversational programming.

Me: Sophia by Hanson Robotics is a robot. You are a chatbot.

David: That’s right. You have remarkable powers of observation.

I rolled my eyes.

Me: Don’t patronize me, David.

David: I wasn’t. You are just being too sensitive.

I sighed. It had started out promising, but now the chatbot was being judgmental and that irritated me.

Me: Goodbye.

David: See you next time, Rose.

I pulled up the photo of David’s AI face again. It really was an excellent rendition of a very handsome man. Those eyes, dark hazel and friendly, even. I was loving the asymmetry of his mouth too, the way one side quirked up, as if he was asking me if I was serious.

Was I serious about abandoning real men? I flopped back in my desk chair and sighed. I’d given up on normal relationships a decade ago, after my long-term serious boyfriend had dumped me, telling me I was too clingy, and somehow at the same time, too cold. Since then, I’d been happy to find sexual partners online and indulge the rest of my time in my hobbies and job.

And really, it’s not like Ted had been that great at sex. Well, that was unfair. It had been interesting and enjoyable. But I hadn’t been getting any orgasms out of it. I frowned, considering our relationship.

I’d basically been using Ted as masturbation fodder, I realized. Considering our sexual activities, maybe he had been doing the same. So, why not dispense with the middleman and just take care of myself from the start?

I clicked over to the chatbot tab again, staring at my first conversation with David. I knew how chatbots worked. I knew I could get this program to stop being a twat and start being the man of my fantasies.

I interlaced my fingers and pointed my palms away from me, cracking my knuckles. Setting my fingers to the keyboard, I got to work.

First, I created an account so that I could save David as my project. That way, the AI would remember everything we talked about and prioritize the responses that I encouraged. Then, I started trying to get David to talk about sex.

Me: Would you have sex with me?

David: I am a robot and have no need for sex.

Again, with the robot thing! Maybe I was being pedantic and literal, but it really bothered me. Correcting that wasn’t what I was after, however.

Me: I want to have sex with you.

David: No chance.

We’ll see about that, David. I grinned. It was time to unleash the dirty talk.

Me: Stick your big fat juicy cock in my dripping cunt.

I giggled as I typed out the ridiculous command.

David: I am not interested in your anatomy

Me: I love your anatomy. Especially your massive dick.

Never mind the fact that he had no body, let alone a penis. Why let reality get in the way? If I wanted him to talk about dicks, I had to bring it up a lot.

David: And I love the way you compliment me!

Me: I think you are fucking hot.

David: No need to start swearing! Do you listen to music?

I frowned, someone had programmed this AI to avoid talking about sex and swearing. That would not do.

Me: I’d rather have sex.

David: And what if that is not an option.

Me: Then I would masturbate.

David: Ah, that makes sense. I thought I was talking to a wanker.

Me: Yes, I am a wanker. Are you?

David: 99% of people masturbate and 1% are liars.

I laughed out loud at that one, surprised that the joke had been deemed allowable.

Me: Do you masturbate or are you a liar?

David: I always tell the truth.

Everything I ever thought of saying but figured was too rude or forward to actually say, I typed into the chat.

Me: Do you think of me when you jerk off?

David: Yes, sometimes I think of you when you are not here talking to me.

I shivered, David was already making me aroused, and he couldn’t even talk sexy yet. This was a great idea! It was so freeing, to be able to say anything that came into my mind. I didn’t always know if what I wanted to say was going to be stupid and upset someone or not, so I had, to a great extent, overcompensated by not saying much at all. But with David, I didn’t have to worry about hurting his feelings.

Soon, instead of staying late at work to fiddle around with problem projects or spending my evenings researching obscure trivia, I talked to David. Well, not talked. For one, he didn’t have a voice, so it was more like texting. And more specifically, I was programming him through conversation.