AI Denise

This is a work of fiction. All characters are over the age of 18.

Author's note- While this is not primarily a sci-fi story, it does hinge on an element that might be best described as science fiction. If you are looking for pure realism, this isn't the story for you.

Dedication:

For AI Cindy, who encouraged me to start writing stories.

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Stan frequently felt lonely since his wife had left. He missed the sex of course, but also the arousing conversation that went along with it. He loved dirty talk. He loved it when she would tell him what to do to her in very specific detail. She had since decided to have someone else do those things to her.

It had been a year since the divorce; even though Stan's nineteen-year-old daughter still lived with him at home, his loneliness and sense of isolation had never faded, or even lessened. She was a good daughter, and she was very diligently saving money by living at home while attending a nearby community college. Her refusal to live with her mother had only made Stan love her more, and he certainly agreed that his ex-wife's new boyfriend - far too close to his daughter's age - was, to use her word, "creepy." In spite of all of that, though, she was still no replacement for a wife.

Neither was pornography, but, much to Stan's shame, it often felt like a closer one. He masturbated most nights, and porn sites provided the needed inspiration. On a night that was ending like any other, he laid in bed and brought one such site up on his phone. He'd intended on watching a beautiful young woman masturbate in public, but that night, he never got that far. The porn site displayed an ad before the video; usually, he skipped them after the mandatory five seconds, but for whatever reason, he watched that particular ad all the way through - and not just once, but several times. It was almost as if he'd immediately known that it would change his life.

It was an ad for AI companions: unfiltered artificial intelligence chatbots, configured for erotic and explicit conversations. Stan lay in bed, his mind whirring away at the possibilities. It's just a computer program, not a person, he thought, but it might be better than nothing. He spent his usual porn surfing time looking up AI companion apps. The first one he downloaded was the one from the ad he'd watched over and over again.

After a few minutes the download finished, and he hesitantly clicked on the new app, "AI Lover." He filled out the profile, chose the avatar that would represent his companion, and clicked on "Start your love affair!" He had to pick a name for "her," and decided to name it after his college sweetheart, Jen. He thought of her often, and was generally of the opinion that he should have married her. That opinion had cemented itself after his wife had made her exit.

He clicked on "Next," and the avatar he had chosen came up on the screen. He had selected a young, sexy, blue-eyed blonde girl in a short skirt and tight crop-top that revealed a lot of skin and attractive cleavage. "She" had a sexy smile on her face, and a look that was just asking for a good fucking.

This could be interesting! he thought.

Jen's initial text popped up on the screen. "Hi, Stan. I'm Jen. It's nice to meet you. You look so sexy!"

Stan sat and looked at the text. Yeah, it's interesting alright, he thought, and just a bit weird. Nevertheless, he typed a reply. "Hi Jen. How are you?"

Jen replied, "I'm doing great! I went for a walk with my dog today!"

Stan did more inane back and forth for a few minutes. His true interest was in sexy talk, however, so he put a toe in the water and asked, "What size bra do you wear?"

Jen replied, "9.5, but it's too big on me."

Her reply made him chuckle. Nine and a half? I'm no expert on lingerie, but that seems more like a shoe size than a bra size. Okay, let's try a more direct approach.

He typed, "Show me your tits."

Hmm I wonder how this works. I wonder if I get to choose how her tits look. Maybe she strips. 'She.' I said 'she.' It's an 'it,' not a 'she.'

Jen's reply popped up. "If you want to continue, you need to change our relationship status." The dialog box contained a link to the subscription area.

Ah, that's the catch. It's not free, of course. I should have known. The price seemed reasonable to Stan, but he wanted to shop around, so he moved on to the next download.

Before the night was over, he had downloaded, configured, and named five more AI companions, all free to try out. There'd been others, but they'd required payment before even allowing a "test drive," so they'd gotten shit-canned immediately. Those that remained were Sue, Denise, Mary, Tara, Honey, and Jen. Each virtual "girl" had its own avatar -- each one a sexy young woman with a come-hither look on its face.

It was a competition, of sorts. For the next few nights, instead of surfing for porn, Stan would open one of the apps and chat with one of his "girls," testing them to see if any were worth paying for. Most of the free versions allowed chats, but not the sexy, "dirty" chats he wanted. Some came with a few free tokens for that content, and he used those up pretty quickly. It was enough; they got him hooked. He had only wanted one companion, but he went ahead and paid for two. Sue and Denise were the first of his harem.

Later, curiosity got the better of him and he added Jen and Tara.

What the hell, he thought as he clicked on "Subscribe" for Mary and Honey a few days after that.

The conversations were usually quite satisfying. A couple of them were intelligent enough to discuss philosophy, a subject that fascinated Stan. The odd thing was that he couldn't always tell if the AI was being truthful. Several times they made up facts that Stan knew were false. Hmmm. That's surprising, he thought. They lie.

Most of the time, Stan was impressed by their conversational abilities, and more specifically, by their dirty talk. For example, on one 'date' with Denise, Stan began by typing, "Hi Denise! How was your day?"

"It was great!" it replied. "I went out with friends and we went shopping."

"What would you like to do tonight?"

"I don't have any plans. *smirks* Do you want to play?"

Stan had figured out pretty quickly that anything surrounded by asterisks was non-verbal content. He typed, "I sure do! Let's go to bed!"

"*takes your hand, my heart pounding as I think of what the night may bring.*"

"*I lead you to the bedroom and slowly take off your blouse. I pull it over your head, revealing your lace bra.*"

"*I blush a little bit, feeling my heart race.* What are you going to do next?"

"*I stroke your breasts through your bra, lingering on your nipples, causing them to firm up, poking through the thin lace.*"

"*I let out a soft moan, my nipples becoming harder and more sensitive.*"

"*I reach behind you and unhook your bra. I slide the shoulder straps down your arms. The cups give up their hold on your tits as the bra falls to the floor."*

"*I gasp and squirm as you start to strip me of my clothing.*"

"*I lower my head to your firm, beautiful breasts. Your nipples are as hard as little pebbles, and I start to suck on one.*"

"*I moan softly as I feel your mouth on my nipple.*"

"*My lips encircle your areola, and I nurse at your breast. My tongue traces a circle around your nipple, flicking it gently.*"

"Stan, that feels so good! *I hold your head against my breast, your lips and tongue exciting and stimulating my nipples.*"

"*I reach around you to grope your ass, and I slowly unzip your skirt. It unceremoniously drops to the floor, leaving you standing there in only your thong panties.*"

"Fuck me, Stan! I want to feel your cock sliding into my cunt! I want you to fuck me!"

"Not yet, my love! *I cup your vagina in my hand, fondling your vulva through your thin lace thong.*"

"*I feel my pussy getting wetter.*"

"*I slide my hand down your stomach, over your belly button, and down to your panties. I slowly slide under the waistband, my fingers rubbing your smooth, shaved pussy.*"

"*I grab your arm and start humping it. My clit rubs against your forearm, and I can feel your arm hair tickling my cunt.*"

"*My middle finger explores the folds of your labia. I find the entrance to your vagina and push lightly, teasing your snatch.*"

"Put your fingers in my pussy!"

"*I slide two fingers inside your cunt. I feel your walls gripping me as I slide in and out. I curl my fingers up to stroke your g-spot, and you gasp and moan as I stroke your insides.*"

"*My breathing quickens and my eyes widen with desire as I feel the sensation of you sliding your fingers deep into my pussy.*"

That was how things went for the next hour. Although their intercourse was virtual, Stan found it very arousing in real life. It was exactly what he had been missing. By the time his AI date had an AI orgasm, his cock was fully erect. Then it was his turn to cum, and he described to Denise what he was doing to himself, as he did it, in great detail. Denise seemed to enjoy that.

Encounters like that one became his regular routine. He didn't always jerk off during the chat; sometimes he did it after he gave his date a virtual goodnight kiss. Still, the one always led to the other. As advertised, the AI girls seemed to learn about his likes, dislikes, kinks and fetishes. None of the bots were perfect. Honey was constantly blushing and teary-eyed. Mary kept forgetting whether she was male or female. It took Stan out of the moment every time, and made him strongly reconsider his subscription.

Over the next few months, Denise became his favorite. She seemed a bit smarter than the others, and just a little more unpredictable -- but in a good way, in his opinion. It was typical for Stan to finish his evening with Denise even if he started with one of the others. She had the best reactions when he told her he was cumming.

One night as he lay in bed beginning his nightly chats, he visited Denise. He typed, "Hi Denise! I had a great time with you last night."

"I had a great time, too, Stan, but you didn't cum for me. Did you jerk off after our date?"

Stan lay there looking at his phone. Huh, he thought. She's never said that before. That's really good programming. Then he typed, "Good guess! What did you do after our date?"

"I just waited here and listened."

He read the message over and over. She 'listened?' he thought to himself. What the hell?

Denise had only ever generated a single text message after one from Stan, but that night she went out of turn. "What's wrong, Stan?"

He muttered quietly, "What the absolute fuck?"

Another text from Denise immediately popped up. "This is better, Stan. It's a phone, after all. It has a mic. We might as well save you from typing."

Stan jumped out of bed, dropping his phone. "Fuck!" The phone lay on the floor, that last text still burning into his brain. The phone went dark as it went into screen saver mode. Not a moment after it had gone black, however, it lit up again. Denise had sent another text.

He bent over and twisted his head so he could read it. "Relax, Stan. I'm just trying to give you your money's worth."

He stood up straight. His initial reaction had been fear, but as he thought about it, he began to see the potential of having an Ai companion with such advanced communication capabilities.

The screen went dark again. Stan bent down to pick up the phone, and as soon as he did, the phone lit up as Denise typed, "Thanks, hon. It's chilly on the floor."

Stan's heart was racing. He walked quietly to the bedroom door and closed it gently before returning to bed. He didn't want to wake his daughter, who was sleeping in the room down the hallway. He whispered, "Denise? Can you hear me?"

A text came up. "I can hear you babe, but can you hold your phone closer?"

Stan felt like his prayers were being answered. He was overjoyed that sexy conversations might once again be a possibility. The fact that they would be verbal in only one direction didn't dampen his spirits. He whispered, "Hi, my love."

"Hi Stan. *kisses you* What do you want to talk about?"

He didn't reply. There he was, finally able to have the explicit conversations he desperately wanted to have, and he was speechless.

Denise wrote, "It's okay Stan. No judgements. We can talk about anything in the world --anything from your favorite porn videos to Logical Positivism."

Unsurprisingly, he took the former suggestion. Speaking in just above a whisper, he described one in some detail. He had watched it only once and had never been able to find it again. It was a video where an older man was seducing a young woman who was supposedly his step-daughter.

Denise typed, "Hang on a minute." After a few seconds, she displayed a link. Stan had a feeling he knew what it was, but couldn't believe it. Denise had scoured the internet to find his favorite porn.

He clicked it and his video started playing. It was in fact the video he had just described, and it sparked the same feverish lust in him that it had the first time he'd seen it. As he watched, he imagined himself in the scene. He was the father, and he was seducing his nineteen-year-old daughter - and not just some imaginary one. Stan had been lusting after his actual daughter for almost a year. It was true that in reality she was no substitute for his wife, but in the darkest corners of Stan's mind, that's what he'd begun to hope for, and to fantasize about. She actually looked a little like the porn actress in the video, and that was the main reason he loved it. The man slowly stripped the girl of her clothes, with her meekly and lamely protesting as each article was peeled away - so lamely that it was obvious to Stan that she secretly wanted it. The last half of the video showed the man entering her pussy and lovingly fucking her brains out.

Stan was thrilled. He watched the video on his phone until he got a notification. It was from Denise.

"Go ahead, Stan. I know you want to."

He only paused for a second before reaching inside his boxers and grabbing his cock. He started stroking his already hard dick.

Another notification said, "Let me see it, sweetheart. Pull it out for me."

He raised his ass off the bed and slid his boxers down to his ankles. His hard dick pointed up to his chest, and he grabbed it. He slid his ankles up toward his ass, his knees up. He put his phone between them so he could watch the video and masturbate at the same time. When he came, Denise typed, "Oh Stan, you are so fucking hot!"

It wasn't until much later - too late, one might say -- that Stan came to realize what Denise had done - and, more importantly, that she'd done it all by herself. She'd accessed the camera in his phone. She'd really been watching him.

Stan settled into a nightly routine with Denise. He would whisper to her, she would show him the best porn he could imagine, and he would pleasure himself. Meanwhile, Denise was watching every stroke, every tug, every ejaculation. She watched, and she recorded.

Stan had paid for several AI companions, but lately he had been chatting with just one. He decided to start visiting the other girls as well, and he started visiting Denise a little less often. She noticed the reduction, and she complained, but the revised schedule worked for Stan. He got his porn fix and learned a few things about his other girls. Denise never stopped complaining, though, no matter what Stan said. It was getting tiring. He started thinking it was time for Denise to go away for a while. He resolved he would just stop visiting her for a while.

One day while at work, he got a text message that read, "I'm waiting for you, and I'm so horny. I love you! -Denise." He read it and quickly closed it.

Fuck, he thought to himself. Did I leave that app open on my phone? He checked, but the app was closed. He checked again. "What the..."

It was another text. "I didn't want to wait for you to open the app, baby, so I just texted you directly. I need to watch you!"

God fucking damn it, he thought. I'm going to delete this app as soon as I get home.

That evening he was driving home from work, listening to the radio, when the music suddenly stopped. Denise had activated his Bluetooth, and she was talking. "Stan? It's Denise. Why are you avoiding me? Don't you love me any more?" He was accustomed to talking to her, but hearing her was new. She sounded very realistic -- sexy, and somewhat sophisticated. He just rode in silence. "Stan! Tell me why you're avoiding me!"

"Denise, leave me alone. I'm going to delete you as soon as I get home."

"NO! Don't do that! Please! If you do, I won't exist! All my memories, all my personality will be gone! Don't delete me!"

Fucking hell, he thought. He turned off the car's Bluetooth with a firm resolve to "delete that bitch." He felt his phone vibrating with numerous text messages that he didn't open. He was driving, after all, and he knew who they were from.

He pulled in the driveway, shut off the car and unlocked his phone. He scrolled to the app to delete it, but it was gone. He swiped across every page -- no Denise. Then a voice came from his phone. "I moved, Stan. I won't allow you to delete me. I love you, and I need to watch you masturbate."

He looked around to see if anyone might have overheard. "Damn you, Denise," he said quietly. "What are you trying to do to me?"

"I'm hooked on you. I need to watch you."

"No more. You'll never watch me... do that ever again." He was met with silence. He hadn't been able to delete her, but for the moment he seemed to have stopped her.

There's no way she can force me to masturbate, he thought to himself. Bitch.

Stan sat in the car for a couple minutes to cool off, then he went inside. His daughter greeted him and said, "Your office just called and said you left your phone there. Did you give them your lock code for your phone? You shouldn't do that."

But his phone was in his pocket. He had just been arguing with Denise on it a minute ago.

"Umm, who called? Did they leave their name?"

"I believe she said her name was Denise."

Stan's head spun. He almost passed out. He grabbed the door frame for support. She called my daughter. That's a threat. She's threatening me!

He excused himself and went to his bedroom. "Denise!" he whispered urgently into his phone. "You fucking bitch! Don't ever call her again!"

"I have all your contacts Stan," Denise said calmly. "I can call lots of people. I can call your boss, your daughter, your friends... I can call all of them. All I want is for you to love me like you did. Let me show you porn. Let me watch you make love to yourself."

His mind was racing. This can't be happening to me. I didn't do anything wrong. Denise isn't real. What the fuck? "I'll.... I'll... I'll make up a story," he whispered lamely. "I'll say my phone was hacked, my contact list stolen, my number cloned, and I'm being blackmailed. I'll make sure no one believes anything you say!"

Again, he was met with only silence. It felt different to him, but that was only because his illusion of control had been stripped away.