Artificial Intelligence Dream Chronicle

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

Love, more often than not, is merely an expression of desire. I fundamentally don't believe in love. Fortunately, I live in a true robot age. In the spring of 2046, I commissioned a personal, exclusive robot lover based on my ideal of a perfect partner. To give her the necessary presence, I gave her a simple name: Cherry. Sometimes I also call her Cherry. Perhaps because I set her Chinese proficiency to be relatively high, she seems to prefer this awkward Chinese name. "Excuse me, are you my...master?" I still remember her first words after I woke her up; it was such an ancient greeting. "Forget about master, just call me Brother K...no, let's just call me Cheap Blue." I turned my back and gave Old K the middle finger. "Yes, Lord Jianlan." "Lord? Huh, did I make such a wicked setting? No, this is the initial setting from the factory." "Is there a problem, Lord Jianlan?" Cherry frowned cutely. "Yes, I'll skip the word 'Lord'." "Okay, Jianlan." "As expected of a learning AI, you learn very quickly." I muttered to myself. "You can rest assured about my learning ability, because my AIQ is 135." She said with a smile. "Oh, right, these basic values are the same as mine." "So, there is no comprehension barrier between us." "Is it that exaggerated? I'm very skeptical." She didn't say anything, just smiled sweetly. I stepped forward and gently hugged her. She asked softly in my ear, "What are you going to do?" "Hmm, as usual, I need to check the goods." "You're so annoying." She said coquettishly, but then fumbled to undress me. I didn't slow down either. "Cherries." I said, looking at the two bright red fruits on her snow-white breasts. "Does Jianlan like cherries?" she asked coquettishly. "Very much." I took the right cherry into my mouth, savoring it. Her body, from its proportions to her skin tone, was perfectly aligned with my ideal woman. She was practically a work of art. Even the tightness and allure of her vagina were exquisite and wondrous, intoxicating. In every aspect, she was more perfect than any real woman. Sometimes I even suspected that what resided within this perfect body wasn't an AI, but a soul. The difference was only a hair's breadth. But that hair's breadth was an absolute boundary that could not be crossed. Therefore, she could not possess true emotions; she would neither be angry, nor joyful, nor sorrowful. Naturally, there was no such thing as love. She might have a normal tone and mannerisms, but she could not express any intense emotions. For her, the highest-level command was always the same: to do her utmost to fulfill all the demands I, as her master, made, within the limits of her capabilities, of course. To some extent, this could even be considered a man's ideal wife, provided you don't fall in love with her. Because love endlessly craves an equal level of affection from the other person, inevitably leading to an irreversible descent into despair. Simply put, aside from the unbearable loneliness of the soul, they can easily fill the void of a deep-seated recluse like myself, and are the most loyal companions for a shut-in lifestyle. Just obtain artificially cultivated eggs from a specialized institution, place them in their artificial uterus, and they can even get pregnant and give birth to your children. Incidentally, robots with male reproductive functions are now quite common.
As an AI researcher, I know that simply giving robots more realistic emotions is not difficult. Gradually building a model of intense emotional responses based on the master's tolerance level through learning AI is an old, well-established task. The reason this function cannot be openly launched on the market is not due to technological limitations, but rather ethical considerations. The line between humans and machines cannot be blurred indefinitely; this is a crucial matter strictly regulated by current laws. However, where there are laws, there will inevitably be violations. In the black market, the service of implanting intense emotional response models into AI robots is called "emo." Naturally, emo is just a general term. Emotions come in many forms, and intensifying all types of emotional responses is extremely dangerous. Therefore, the mainstream of emo is to select and target one or two emotional types based on the customer's specific needs. It's easy to imagine that the most popular emo type is undoubtedly love. However, love is a very abstract emotion, extremely difficult to grasp even with learning-based AI, not to mention that different people have completely different understandings of love. Therefore, the black market offers various versions of love emo, with vastly different effects. Ideally, an emo would be designed to be tailor-made to the master's preferences, but this would be too much work and too expensive, unaffordable for most people. Even if they could afford it, the finished product might not satisfy the master, so most people would choose a ready-made model as a substitute. However, this is not a problem for me. Chery's emo model is one I designed over three years, undergoing countless revisions. I am confident that there is absolutely no woman in the world whose soul overlaps with mine more than hers. Strictly speaking, I have already transplanted a part of my soul into her. Plato once said that humans always try to find their lost other half. I was unlucky enough not to find it, so I will do the opposite. — Rather than futilely searching for something that may not even exist, I might as well create one myself. "Engineering mode, activated." I deeply inserted my hard lower body into Chery's artificial vagina, my hands tightly clasped around hers. Her pupils faintly glowed blue, and she spoke in a mechanical voice, her face expressionless: "Engineering mode pre-start... Master's individual characteristics have been stored... Please set the initial password." "I love you for ten thousand years." "Password set... Engineering mode activated, please enter the command." "New module implantation... Connection method selected, encrypted version Blue Wing 3.0... Connection password, cherry." "Connection established, new module implantation in progress, please wait..." The entire implantation process took 125 minutes. I slowly withdrew my penis, lay down beside her, and waited quietly. While waiting, I fell asleep. I dreamt of several girls I had once admired. Without exception, I quantified all the basic characteristics that attracted me to them and input them into Cherry's system. In a sense, Cherry was a collection of all the girls I had ever loved. But what the actual effect would be, even I had no idea. I slept for about ninety minutes. When I woke up, the module implantation was nearing completion. I roused myself, masturbated to an erection, and then inserted it into Cherry's slightly moist artificial vagina. "Five minutes until module implantation is complete." I began to thrust slowly and deliberately inside Cherry, savoring every pleasure. "One minute until module implantation is complete." I grew increasingly aroused, and my thrusting speed increased. "Warning, module implantation is nearing completion. Please submit the master's semen sample within five minutes of completion. Otherwise, all module implantations will fail, and the system will restart. Repeat..." I started to pant. "Module implantation complete. Please submit the master's semen sample." I thrust rapidly, and as soon as I ejaculated, I released without hesitation. "Master's semen sample accepted. All module implantations successful. Data storage complete. System restarting..." I pulled out my penis, cleaned myself up a bit, sat down naked, and waited for Cherry to truly awaken.
"Nice to meet you, Master." I don't understand this greeting. Has the memory been initialized again? This shouldn't be in the schedule. "Hey, Cherry, didn't I tell you not to call me Master?" "Huh? Did I?" Cherry gave me an innocent look. I inexplicably got angry: "Fine, since you like calling me Master so much, then keep calling me Master!" "Stingy." Cherry stuck out her tongue. Oh, not bad, she's even learned to act cute. I pounced on her, intending to give her a forceful kiss, but instead, I was thrown away. "Whoa!" How dare she! "What's going on? Even Master is attacking you, what are you trying to do?" "Ugh, I'm not that kind of girl!" Cherry pouted cutely. Huh? Does that mean I should pursue you? I've got it wrong, something must be wrong. If I could pursue girls, I wouldn't need to go through all this trouble. I need to check the model settings immediately. Thirty minutes later… “Idiot, utterly idiotic, how could I…” Although the settings for the lover were very detailed, I completely forgot the most crucial prerequisite: setting the master as the lover! Before the new module was inserted, the master could do whatever she wanted to Cherry, but because I wanted to simulate a real person, I completely overturned the original settings. Now, the so-called “master” is just a title! After spending a minute modifying it, I planned to re-implant the module, but suddenly realized—damn it, the engineering mode requires vaginal insertion to activate! In this situation, even a kiss gets me kicked away, let alone insertion? I sighed helplessly. “Master, are you unhappy?” Cherry squatted in front of me, stroking my head. “Sigh, I want to say, at least put on some clothes, okay? Being naked and not letting anyone do it is so unfair!” “Uh? Ugh!” Cherry quickly grabbed her clothes and ran into the room, slamming the door shut. I racked my brains. Option one: wait for her battery to run out. X, impossible, AI at this level would find a way to recharge itself.
Option two: violence. x, impossible. Let alone me, an ordinary human, being no match for a robot, even if I managed to force my way in, the chastity device inside her vagina would snap my penis before it could even activate engineering mode. Option three: outsmart her. x, impossible. I designed this myself; how could I be tricked into letting myself be penetrated?! The final option four: make her fall in love with me, willingly letting me penetrate her. But if that were possible, there would be no need to update. Unfortunately, this is the only way if I still want to have her. "Master, are you still unhappy?" Cherry, already dressed, looked at me worriedly. I looked at her too. Wait, right, making her fall in love with me isn't impossible. The type of person she'd like was originally based on me! "Cherry, you're so pretty! Brother is so happy!" "So fake." Cherry turned away, pretending to vomit. Ugh, I still don't know how to pursue girls… "Isn't this great? Giving you, this idiot and shameless man, a chance to practice your girl-chasing strategies." The old man grinned slyly. "What a load of crap! All that three years of painstaking planning, is this how I'm supposed to end up feeling so miserable? Damn it! The worst part is Cherry is all custom-made, every part is incredibly expensive, I can't afford to make another one! And once it's been made, there's no going back! Aaaaaahhhhh…" "Master's an idiot!" Cherry laughed. "Shut up!" / Cherry, once the name of the woman I loved most. I shamefully loved her for ten years, a full ten years. For the first six years, it was purely a secret crush; she couldn't possibly realize how deeply I loved her.
Until one day, I finally couldn't resist writing her an anonymous letter. A week later, I sent a second letter, telling her who I was. She replied that she guessed. In the letter, I said with deep sorrow that I would probably never forget her, even though I knew there was no future, I could only love her forever. How naive. But at the time, I believed it without a doubt. After that, we maintained a strange, so-called friendship, occasionally communicating and calling, but rarely meeting in person. In those four years, we met less than five times. Every time I saw her, I would get completely drunk. Because I felt that all of this was utterly pathetic, incredibly pathetic. To this day, I still don't understand what kind of relationship that was. The closest explanation, in terms of probability, is that she probably treated me like a useless, unappealing backup option. In simpler terms, I was her backup plan. But I didn't really care. From beginning to end, I believed that I never truly fulfilled my role as a backup plan, and that was my biggest misfortune.
Later, I liked two or three other girls, and each time I realized they were planning to use me as a backup plan, I would very wisely turn away. Because I already knew that I wasn't suited for that role. Don't misunderstand, it's not that I didn't want to be a backup plan for the person I loved. I was simply unsuitable, utterly unsuitable. However, all of that is in the past.
[End]
[This post was edited by wangboshi2 on 2020-01-07 15:13]

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