Technology has consumed most of my life since my early teens. I was always fascinated by a computer program’s ability to perform outstanding tasks and create industries. Indulging in my obsession has ostracized me from socials and relationships.
I’ve never had a boyfriend. In fact, I’ve never been on a date. I know—it’s extremely odd for a twenty-five-year-old. But all of that is about to change.
For the past three years, I’ve been working on a project that’s challenged and excited me. When I say, excited me, I mean that it made my pussy wet. Not that it takes a lot to get me turned on, but I’ve reached peak arousal.
I haven’t shared the project with anyone out of fear of ridicule. My proposal might seem odd now, but I truly believe that it will be the future.
Online dating apps and social media have distanced us more than they’ve brought us together. Although I don’t get out much, during my outings to the grocery store, I never saw a man approach a woman. Even couples are scarce. Many women are walking dogs instead of children, and men’s focus has shifted to their careers since marriage no longer holds the same appeal that it did. I can’t say that I blame them.
Online, I noticed a scary trend. Never in history have women demanded so much but offered so little. Many won’t cook or clean for men, and they have definitely overvalued their looks.
I’m not sure what my chances are of finding a human husband. Truth be told, I’m terrified to even find out. I would love to have company. Catering to my husband’s needs would make me feel valuable. I know that he would appreciate my efforts and reciprocate.
We would hold hands while strolling through the park. He’d stroke my face at the dinner table and gaze deeply into my eyes before pressing his lips against mine. Unable to restrain his desires, he would scoop me off my chair and carry me to the bedroom.
I tilted my head to the side and smiled just thinking about that. Which woman wouldn’t want that? I’m not leaving my future to chance, so I came up with something that’s guaranteed to provide me with companionship.
Ernie doesn’t talk yet, but I’m working on it. He can stand and walk a few feet before he turns around. That’s another glitch in the programming that I have to fix. Yes, Ernie is a robot. I know it sounds crazy for me to think that I can form a relationship with someone that’s programmed. But I believe this technology will advance, enabling robots to develop emotions.
Before closing my eyes at night, I always look over at Ernie, sitting in the chair, and fantasize about the day that he will say my name. Eventually, he’ll lay beside me.
Mom doesn’t know about Ernie, yet. When I visit her during the holidays, she harps on the same topic—marriage. I used to get annoyed, but now I’m hopeful that it’s in the pipeline for me.
I considered announcing Ernie to Mom when robot lovers eventually become the norm to avoid judgement, but I’m proud of my innovation. I’d like to be recognised for it and not merely be swept into the throng when they become ubiquitous.
On numerous occasions, I thought about blurting out my new romantic interest. But I always restrained myself. Eventually, I’ll have to confess. I think it’ll be easier for me to discuss him when his physical abilities progress. Right now, his movements are limited, which may deter Mom from accepting him as my partner. But I know that she’ll be more welcoming of him when he is fully mobile.
I can’t wait for the day when Ernie will accompany me to the grocery store and insist on pushing the cart. He’ll pick items from the shelf and ask for my approval. I’ll nod and smile because he will develop intuition for my preference.
At home, we’ll sit on the couch and watch movies. He’ll feed me popcorn and tell me that I’m more beautiful than the actress.
I don’t doubt for a second that we’ll consummate someday, but I haven’t figured out conception. I know, all of this sounds crazy right now. But it was just a few years ago that most people hadn’t even heard of artificial intelligence, never mind robots performing tasks that humans can.
Most people will accept this impending future. I wouldn’t be surprised if we end up seeing more women with robot partners than humans. It’s kinda sad when I think that we’ve reached this level in society. We never should’ve lost connection with each other, but I’m grateful for the alternatives.
Moreover, I’m proud to contribute to that future. When I embarked on this project, I considered destroying this technology so that our only option would be to form human connections. But I knew that somebody else would develop the technology if I abandoned it, so I might as well be one of the pioneers.
Drizzle had trickled down from the skies on Saturday night. After watching a movie, I decided to head to bed because of boredom. As always, I looked at Ernie and thought about the timeline until he would be able to touch me.
Thinking about that turned me on, so I ran my hand over my breast and rubbed my nipple with two fingers. I closed my eyes and exhaled a ball of fiery lust that had developed in my chest. My left hand slid to my pussy, and I pulled my G-string to my thighs.
I rubbed my pussy in a circular motion, intermittently shoving three fingers inside. I got so turned on that I shot out a groan unexpectedly. My pussy had slicked my fingers, and I drilled myself harder, hoping to climax.
I tapped my clitoris with my right fingers while fingering myself. I arched my back and screamed as the lust enflamed my chest.
Sweat beads had formed on my forehead. I kept drilling myself, feeling a wave of pleasure topple over each other. I panted while persisting with my fingers. My pussy had never been so wet.
I opened my legs wider and raised my feet in the air, believing that would satisfy me even more. That definitely nudged me closer to an orgasm.
My forehead tightened as I frowned, and my oval mouth anticipated screams. I raised my head off the pillow and shot out piercing screams as fluid gushed out of my pussy.
My head dropped to the pillow, and I believed that the deluge had been contained. I panted. Abruptly, like a fountain spurt, fluid shot out of me. With each spurt, I twitched and groaned.
I lay for a few minutes, trying to catch my breath. As pleasurable as it may have been, that was exhausting. I could only imagine how much Ernie would satisfy me.
I changed the sheets and then fell asleep.
On Saturday morning, I quickly ate breakfast, eager to hook Ernie up to my computer and continue programming him.
For the last few months, I struggled to get him to walk for several metres. He usually takes three steps and then turns around. I made adjustments to the code, instructing him to keep walking.
My eyes widened and my lips curled as he took five steps and persisted. I skipped and applauded, smiling because I was so proud of my Ernie.
Throughout the next few weeks, we made significant progress. Ernie could sweep up debris, flush the toilet and he eventually ran.
A knot tied in my chest as I thought about walking with him to the park. I knew people would stare and probably judge us, but that was inevitable. So it might as well be sooner than later.
I clipped the leash onto Roofus’ collar. I wasn’t certain what some weirdos could do to us, so I needed him for protection.
Almost everyone who walked past us stared. Some even made comments. The ones who didn’t look at us tried to pretend there was nothing unusual. Maybe there wasn’t. I may have been the first to be accompanied by a robot in public, but I believed that almost everyone would be in the near future.
Ernie and I sat on a bench. The people on the surrounding benches stared at us. Although their gawks made me feel uncomfortable, I was flattered that they took pictures of us. My creation had come to life, and I was proud to show him off to the world.
At the crosswalk, Ernie didn’t stop when the light turned red. I pulled him back. Luckily, he stopped walking. When we crossed the street, a young man bumped my shoulder quite hard and forgot to apologise.
I stopped and rubbed my shoulder to alleviate the pain. Ernie kept walking. I scuttled to him to ensure that he didn’t cross another street at the red light. It would’ve been great for him to have acknowledged my agony, but I figured that I had to program him better. All in due course.
A few weeks later, while in bed, a noise jolted me awake. It sounded like a burglar attempting to break in through the window. I curled up in the fetal position, not daring to make a sound. Ernie was sitting on the chair beside the bed, looking at me. I wish that he had protected me. My vicinity had quietened. I felt that the burglar had dashed off.
On Valentine’s Day, I programmed Ernie to hand me a rose. I smiled, more joyful about the technological advancement I had made than the gesture. Everything Ernie did was because of my programming, not because of his inclination.
Months later, I had developed Ernie to react to certain situations before they occurred. He could catch a ball after it bounced on the floor and stop at the crosswalk as the light turned yellow.
“Annie,” was his first word.
I skipped and clapped, my lips unable to stretch any further. Ernie’s first word was my name. The joy I felt was indescribable. Deep down inside, I knew that the joy was related to technology, not the connection between Ernie and me.
No matter how much our connection strengthened, I had to accept that it was because I had programmed Ernie to feel that way. It wasn’t genuine. It would never be. Everything he would do for me was because I wanted it, not because he wanted to do it.
Online, I found a dating event. Just thinking about interacting with humans and making myself vulnerable made me extremely nervous. But maybe they would be nervous as well or excited to talk to me. Whatever they felt, at least, it was authentic. That’s something I would never experience with Ernie.
Nerves shackled me, but I managed to break free by booking a seat for the event. The worst thing that could happen is that I don’t enjoy myself. So what?
Life is about risking my feelings, time and effort. If I don’t do that, then what am I living for? I can’t stay cooped up in my apartment for the rest of my days and isolate myself from society because of fear. That sounds like a horrible life. I had to get out and make real connections.
I pulled out the motherboard from Ernie’s back and placed it on the table. I wasn’t certain what I would do with it, but that was a task for another day. Now, I had to get out into the real world and build a connection.