Artificial

The human-sized box lying in the middle of the room looked intimidating; you still didn’t understand exactly how it had fit through the door. Two delivery men had carried it as if it were a stretcher into your house, and after making you sign some papers, they left you alone with the package.

For a moment you thought that maybe you should have asked them to stay, just in case the product was defective; the company that sent it only gave you a three-month warranty, but considering its weight and size, shipping it back to the factory would have cost you a fortune. However, after eight long months of waiting (and a whole life waiting for technology to reach this point), you didn’t want them to ruin this intimate moment.

When you first saw the new iBot commercial, you thought we were finally living in the future. In reality, it wasn’t more than a glorified virtual assistant, kind of like Siri, Alexa or Cortana, shoved inside a synthetic skin-covered robot, indistinguishable from a real person. It had a voice synthesizer and a fairly advanced artificial intelligence, kind of like a chatbot; it connected to the internet to answer questions and make online searches, buy stuff on Amazon and control smart homes, read QR codes, interact with Bluetooth devices, NFCs and things like that. It also served to keep lonely people company and make emergency calls in case of need.

Of course, yours was a bootleg version, not only due to your limited budget, but also because of legal reasons. The companies that made those robots usually had limitations when it came to using a real person’s likeness without their consent when modeling their products, which meant you had to find a company that wasn’t scrupulous enough to refuse your request.

An android assistant created in the image of your favorite YouTube musician, Jonathan Young.

After fighting against the adhesive tape for several minutes, you considered that maybe you should go get a knife, but you feared that if you stopped looking at the package for even a second, it would have disappeared; it was still hard to believe for you that this wasn’t only just a dream. Opening a box wasn’t this exciting since you stopped believing in Santa Claus.

You were slightly worried about the uncanny valley. Sure, you’ve seen photos of the work in progress and the finished product before it was sent to you, but what you see in bidimensional pictures doesn’t always look the same in real life. However, when you finally managed to open the box (after a long battle against the tape, the security seals and all the protective padding) your fears were completely dissipated; there was no way to tell that what you saw there was an android and not the real Jon, peacefully sleeping inside the box.

The synthetic skin was too uniform, too immaculate compared to the real thing, and it had some silicon burrs at the seams (that you were gonna have to remove extra-carefully with a razor), but besides that, his face was an exact copy of the musician, from the crooked hairline to the convex curvature of his nose. Unfortunately, you didn’t have any references for his body, so you had to settle for an approximation; at least they nailed it on the body hair. Technically it wasn’t 100% accurate, but you couldn’t ask for more.

Besides that, inside the box (and conveniently positioned over his crotch) there was an instruction manual, written in an English that was clearly translated from Chinese using Google Translate, and that vaguely reminded you of Malinda’s covers. Inside it there were (more or less) instructions about settings, care and cleaning of your android, about the refilling of some sort of fluid (through a hidden compartment in the cervical region) that you assumed was for lubricating the joints, and the battery charge. From what you could understand, the android had a 12-hour autonomy and had to be charged for 30 minutes, but for the first time it had to be charged for three hours.

When you looked under the manual, you were surprised to discover that the android was anatomically correct.

As you tried to get him off the box you realized that the delivery guys weren’t exaggerating, the robot weighted as much as a normal human of his height and physical build. With some effort you dragged him towards your bedroom; you had to plug him to the charger, and leaving him lying on the floor felt wrong. For the first time you were grateful for living in a one-story house, because carrying him upstairs would have been a problem.

After you finally managed to place the android over the bed and connect him to the electricity (from a hidden socket behind his left ear), you tried to distract yourself and finish some pending tasks while the tortuous first three-hour charge passed by, but there was no way you could concentrate on anything knowing this sleeping beauty was lying on your bed. Eventually you gave up on trying to be productive and decided to wait, anxiously, the last minutes lying beside him.

With all the love and reverence you only had reserved for the real Jon, you caressed the tip of his nose, the long eyelashes, the sharp cheekbones and the synthetic beard, the fleshy lips and the long brown hair, that seemed to be even softer than real hair. You sighed. He was too beautiful, too perfect, everything you've ever wanted in life since that fateful day you found his YouTube channel. In that moment you realized that, even if he never turned on, even if the only thing you could use him for was to leave him there, lying on your bed, everything would have been worth it. You wouldn’t mind just waking up every day and watching him like this, sleeping his eternal sleep.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts that seeing him open his eyes for the first time almost jumpscared you.

“System initializing, please wait.” The android announced with a feminine voice that had nothing to do with his physical appearance, and sat up. “Scanning.” His eyes lit up like flashlights and surveyed every corner of the room until they landed on you. The lights shining directly towards your face blinded you for an instant, but then dimmed down to a tolerable brightness level, like a screen or a phone. “Hello, User. Please enter your details to continue.”

—

“Jon, what time is it?”

“It’s 12:11, User.”

“Jon, what’s the current temperature?”

“Right now it’s 26 degrees celsius, User.”

“Jon, what’s the meaning of life, the universe and everything else?”

“Forty-two, User.”

You spent the first few days testing his basic functions, making him recite useless facts and Wikipedia articles. Soon enough you discovered that one of his shoulder blades opened up to reveal a touch screen behind a secret panel. This allowed you to set him up to respond to the name of Jon, and then spent several minutes trying to make the voice synthesizer sound like the singer.

Generally speaking, he seemed to work just fine, except for the fact that no matter how hard you tried, you never managed to get the android to call you by your name instead of User. And even though you configured his eyes to be olive green, sometimes you saw them change colors, as if by their own will, anywhere between sky blue and a frightening, inhuman yellow. Yes, generally speaking you could say he worked fine, nothing worth sending him back to the factory for repairs.

Inside the package they didn’t send you any clothing, so you dressed him up with some pants that were a little tight for him and a simple, plain white shirt, at least until you could go buy something more appropriate. You decided to braid his hair, not only because you’ve fantasized about doing that ever since the real Jon let his hair grow, but also because you were worried that the android’s synthetic hair would get tangled and damaged forever, as it couldn't grow back. Maybe later you would knit him a beanie, for when you were feeling nostalgic.

Of course, the most intriguing part was his anatomy. As far as you knew, the company that made the original iBot gave them a doll-like anatomy, without any defined sex organs. However, you (or course) explored every centimeter of your android’s body and discovered he even had a hole where his anus was supposed to be, and his insides were slippery and wet, just like his mouth, which explained the need for lubricant fluid. You assumed, gleefully, that these cheap iBot copies also served as sexbots, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get his flaccid member to have an erection.

—

“Jon, fuck me.”

“...”

“Jon, take me… Please, Jon.”

“...”

“Make me yours… Jon, please.”

“...”

“Fuck me in the ass, Jon.” You gave a frustrated sigh, because you couldn’t think of any more ways to express how bad you wanted him to fuck you; every time you gave him some sex-related command, the android’s eyes became gold for a fraction of a second, but gave no response whatsoever. You even tried taking off your clothes and waving your butt in his direction. How pathetic.

You checked the configuration panel in his back and couldn’t find anything, except for some options in Chinese that were never translated into English, but activating them didn’t seem to change anything. On the internet you couldn’t find anything either. A bit disappointed, you gave up and resigned yourself to leaving the subject for a couple of days.

That didn’t mean you stopped involving him in your fantasies. The android slept with you when he was off, which meant he laid beside you every night as you masturbated; looking directly at his closed eyes, burying one hand in his hair as you furiously rubbed your clit with the other, suppressing your moans against his bright magenta colored lips as you reached climax. It wasn’t so bad.

—

It was hard to admit, but sometimes the android made you nervous. He followed you everywhere, always so helpful; but when he thought you didn’t see him, he frowned and his expression became dark. And when he was off, sometimes you thought you saw his eyes lighting up behind his eyelids, and when you woke up you found him in a different position from the one you left him the night before. You were probably just being paranoid, but sometimes you remembered all those horror stories about defective robots getting out of control and killing their humans, ripping their limbs off with their bare hands, so strong that not even an entire army could stop.

It was a nice spring day and you were organizing your closet, getting ready for the upcoming rise in temperature. The android had been acting weird lately, and that worried you. He just stood still the whole day in the middle of the living room, and took a bit longer to respond to your queries. If he was a real person, you’d say he was distracted.

“Ah!” You yelped, and the shock made you drop a whole pile of clothes on the floor as you turned around and saw the android standing right behind you. You didn’t see him come.

“Hi, User. How can I help you?” He said in an innocent tone, blocking your path. Those disturbing thoughts were seriously getting in your head.

“No, eh, thanks.” You smiled nervously, trying to get past him. For some reason you felt the need to flee the room as soon as possible.

“Are you sure?” Suddenly, his expression completely changed. That evil smile couldn’t possibly be part of his programming.

Everything happened so quickly that you didn’t have time to react. One moment you were standing in the middle of the room carrying a pile of clothes to your closet, and the next your back was hitting the wall, and a strong hand was grabbing you by the neck. Another strong hand raised one of your legs, lifting you from the ground, parting the middle area of both your shorts and underwear with one finger, exposing your sex. The android had unzipped his pants and, aligning his synthetic cock with your entrance, shoved himself inside you in one hard thrust.

“No! What are you doing? Let me go!” Your first reaction was to move your hands to your neck and try to release yourself from his grip, you fought with all your might but couldn’t outpower the android’s inhuman strength. His thrusts were calculated and, at risk of being redundant, robotic, the angle meticulously adjusted to push against your most sensitive spot with every movement of his hips. “Stop, no…” You were frightened, but shamefully remembered all the dark fantasies you had while watching Jonathan Young’s villain covers. In your fantasies it always happened like this; violently, condescendingly, as if he was punishing you for wanting him like that. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.

After a few desperate minutes, you noticed the android wasn’t trying to do you any (more) harm, and your fear was being replaced with pleasure. You thought that he might leave you in peace after reaching climax, so you stopped trying to release from his grip on your neck and started touching yourself in unison with his thrusts. You clung to his back and buried your face on his shoulder, muffling your cries as an embarrassingly quick orgasm washed over you.

The android released your neck and for a moment you thought he’d leave you alone, but instead of that he picked you up in his arms and dropped you abruptly on the bed. He barely gave you time to process what was happening before settling between your legs, pulling your pants and underwear off and entering you again.

“Ahh! No, stop, please…” As you realized the android had no intentions of releasing you yet, you started panicking again. The hands at your shoulders pressing you firmly against the bed left you no escape. He kept thrusting, in and out, all the time watching you with an illegible expression, his backlit eyes reminding you he wasn’t human. “Ah! Jon, no, ahh…” You were ashamed at how fast your overstimulated body was getting aroused against your will all over again, getting closer to orgasm at an alarming pace. You hugged the android’s waist with your legs, your cries of terror gradually turning into moans of pleasure.

“Jon, that’s enough, let me go…” After the second orgasm you didn’t think your poor body could take it anymore, yet apparently you had no saying about that. The android lifted you again and, giving you no time to run away, dropped you face down on your knees with your chest pressed against the mattress, your most intimate parts exposed. He penetrated you again, loose and slick with your own fluids.

Maybe it was the adrenaline of danger, of not being able to escape the android’s grip and knowing that at any moment, he could end your life with his own hands; but in some extremely twisted way it excited you. Maybe spending the last few hours of your life being fucked to death by a machine was honestly not the worst way to go.

After your third orgasm the android left your abused cunt, and with the help of a mixture of the lubricant that oozed from his dick and your own fluids, slowly inserted himself inside your ass. It was a bit painful because of the lack of preparation, but at that moment you were glad your vagina was getting a well deserved rest. It didn’t take long until you started rubbing your clit with two fingers as the android’s thick cock resumed its previous consistent velocity; bringing you to your peak for the fourth time of the day, but not the last.

For a brief moment of clarity you thought that maybe all the sexual commands you gave to the android throughout the last couple of days got activated at the same time, and now he wouldn’t stop until you came as many times as you asked for. Or until he ran out of battery, whichever happened first. Thoroughly weary, you received everything he gave to you and lost the count of how many times you came; until finally, after a series of short erratic thrusts, the android’s eyes turned completely black, and he collapsed on top of you, immobile, like a corpse.

It was over.

And a few seconds later his eyes lit up again, and the android rose up as if nothing weird had happened.

“Hello, user. How can I help you?”

“What… what happened?”

“What you wanted.”

“Turn off already, turn off…”

You were alive. You were extremely exhausted, and your whole body hurted, but you were alive, and the android was off, and he didn’t try to kill you, he just made you cum like a million times. Or six, seven, you weren’t sure anymore. And right before you lost consciousness, you finally realized that you had your own Jon, and this Jon was yours, and it didn’t matter that the real Jon wasn’t yours, because you had your own Jon. And everything was right in the universe.

—

Long story short: your android was defective, corrupted, possessed by demons or maybe just very laggy, but because you were reckless or stupid (or both) you had no intentions of getting rid of him. However, and as much as you liked surprise sex, you’d prefer if he responded to your commands in a more predictable, less uncontrollable and violent way. You’d definitely keep testing his capabilities, but later; at the moment your body wouldn't take another session like yesterday’s. Maybe something less physically demanding.

“Jon, kiss me.”

And the android kissed you, barely a soft pressure against your lips. No hesitation, no delay, no murder attempts. Maybe it just fixed itself. Maybe you changed something after fiddling with the configuration. Maybe you just had to turn him off and on again.

You asked yourself how hard it would be to program the alarm to wake you up every morning with oral sex.

(Translated in April 4, 2024)

[Author's Notes: This is a translation of my own fanfic I wrote in Spanish on December 23, 2019. It's so AU it almost qualifies as original work, but having my own android boyfriend modeled after my favorite character/celebrity crush has been one of my biggest dreams since I was like 12. And it’s also heavily inspired by Googleplier (Markiplier’s android alter ego).

Have you ever used a computer so laggy that you double-clicked a program and then five minutes later it opens, after you completely forgot you had clicked on it? Well, that.

I’m not super proud of this fic but still love how extremely niche and targeted to my own specific kinks it turned out. I still think it should have been a bit more scary and murdery but, oh well. In true Jonathan Young fashion, I’ll move on and try to do better next time instead of spending more time trying to make this one perfect.]