AI Era: Turing Topped

I'm submitting a trans/gay story for a non-trans/gay contest in the hope readers will judge it on the handling of the theme rather than just on its orientation. Guess we'll see.

Just to spell things out, this is a story about the limits of the "Turing test" for strong AI, which says that if an evaluator looks at the communication between two "partners," one of whom is human and the other a computer, and cannot tell from the communication itself which of the partners is human then this means the computer has demonstrated true intelligent behavior. But the "Chinese room" thought experiment shows that even if something gives human-like responses an observer can never absolutely prove that human-like thought processes are producing them.

Or I could just say that even abstruse philosophical concepts can be used as the basis for porn, if you try hard enough. :)

"Is there anything I can do for you, sir?"

"Not likely," Alex sighed.

Clive doesn't give up that easy, it's just not the way he's built. "I'm afraid I will need further information if I am to help you."

"Can you convince Heather I'm more of a stud than that fucker Vince Cheng?" Alex said.

Clive digested this. "I am unsure, but I suspect this is not within my capabilities. You appear to be under stress. Would you like a massage, sir?"

Alex shrugged. "Why not?"

"What sort of massage would you like? Scalp, neck, back, foot ..."

"Back."

"Please remove your shirt and lie down on the couch, sir."

Alex did. Clive moved closer and extended his arms, bringing his hands down flat on Alex's back. He began moving them in expanding circles, using his fingers to knead the muscles under the skin. Alex realized he was more knotted up than he'd thought.

"A bit warmer, Clive," Alex murmured.

"Certainly, sir." Clive's fingers warmed up several degrees as he continued the massage, the slick, malleable surface of his skin seeming to sink deeper into Alex's tissues as his hands rubbed and stroked away the tensions there. Clive began spreading his fingers apart, allowing one on each hand to curve around Alex's sides and the tops of his shoulders and extend the massage into these areas while the remaining fingers continued to rub his back.

Fifteen minutes later Alex was limply relaxed and in a somewhat better mood.

"Should I continue the massage, sir?" Clive asked.

"No, any more and I'll fall asleep," Alex decided regretfully.

Clive withdrew his arms. "Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?"

"No, I'm good."

"Then I will return to my housekeeping duties."

Alex sat back up and pulled on his shirt while Clive rotated one-eighty and rolled off into the kitchen.

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Alex felt extremely lucky to have Clive. He certainly couldn't have afforded even one of the most basic models of home servitor on his income as a technical writer. His Aunt Sora however was a bigwig in a robotics company, and she'd gotten Alex a side-gig as a "field tester" for their home servitor prototypes. Basically this meant Alex got a very advanced servitor in his apartment cost-free and all he had to do was write up a monthly report on his experiences with it.

Or with him, Alex supposed he should say. Alex had evaluated two prototype servitors before Clive and with each of them he always wrote and thought of the device as "it," but with Clive things felt very different. The programming/AI working group had gotten the latest model's capabilities, mannerisms and speech/response patterns to the point where talking to Clive very often seemed like conversing with an actual person rather than issuing instructions to a machine. Alex quickly started to think of the machine as "him" rather than an it.

Clive was quite advanced in other ways, too. His hands had three digits which could be fanned flat like fingers, but each was also capable of opposition to any of the others like a thumb. His arms and hands had delicate force-feedback that allowed him to pick up an egg, a coin, a heavy rock, or an adult human with equal facility. His arms had even more range of motion than a human's did and could extend and retract at will. He could balance on any two of his three wheels and essentially could go anywhere a human could indoors, even up stairs. And they'd put in several clever minor features like the heating mechanism in the fingers and a "expressive" voicebox that allowed him to modulate his voice and adopt various tones, for instance to admonish children who were doing something they shouldn't.

The biggest advance made with this prototype though was in adaptive behavior. All the more advanced servitors did this to some extent, but Clive was capable of self-actuated pattern recognition and machine learning without any further programming or user-specified input. For instance, say for a number of days in a row his owner came home from work, went to the kitchen, got a cold beer and poured it in a glass, all in front of Clive. The next time she came home Clive might greet her with a cold beer and a glass in his hands, ready to pour. The programmers had done such a marvelous job with this that it felt rather uncanny to have Clive anticipate Alex's wishes from simple observation.

Like most recent commercial servitors Clive was also wirelessly connected to the servnet (what was once upon a time called the "internet of things" as if none of the rest of the internet was about "things"), allowing him to do stuff like find out his owner's past preference in vodka so that he knew which one to order from the store if he was told "buy vodka," or if his owner enjoyed a dish prepared by a servitor in a restaurant or someone else's home Clive could get the recipe.

Apparently people used to be paranoid about such information being "known" by businesses or the government, but in modern times pretty much everyone realizes that there's such a huge mass of data of this sort out there that, the machines aside, nobody pays any attention to your little quirks. It may be true that a bunch of computers out there "know" you purchased a copy of the video "Buttman and Rubbin' Meat the Wonder Whore" and that you've never watched it all the way through but have streamed parts of it a grand total of five times. But it's extremely unlikely any actual human being other than yourself is aware of this fact. So it made no difference whatsoever that the information is "available" in a theoretic sense.

At least, that's what Alex thought at the time.

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It was after Alex got Clive that his relationship with Heather, which had been wobbly for some time, fell apart completely. Alex always had trouble getting girls. He was short, slight, and rather shy. Girls liked to talk to him well enough, even praising him for being a good listener, but all that stuff about women wanting a "sensitive" boyfriend was just so much bullshit as far as Alex could tell. The women Alex were attracted to inevitably preferred tall, ruggedly handsome guys who were charming and could tell plausible lies and ended up treating them like dirt. Sort of the way these women then turned around and treated Alex, when you get right down to it.

Heather had been on the rebound from a macho asshole of that sort when Alex met her, and they'd had a good run together for six months. Eventually though she stopped talking about how thoughtful and deferential Alex was with her and started to complain that he was too indecisive and never stood up for his "rights," at which point Alex could read the writing on the wall. Of course it didn't help that other men always seemed to pick up on the fact that Alex was pretty much incapable of fending off predators, so Heather frequently got hit on by exactly those rugged, macho types at bars and parties even when Alex was with her. Eventually she became attracted enough to one of them, Vince Cheng, that she started meeting him "just for coffee." While she and Alex were officially a couple for another month, Alex was certain the whole time she would be dumping him before long.

A few weeks after the breakup happened Alex was in a spiral of depression from missing Heather, and also from missing the sex he'd had with Heather. He'd gone out to his usual pick-up spots with his usual lack of success, and was wondering how long it would take him this time to find a woman willing to get intimate. In these circumstances Alex's thoughts inevitably turned to the locked suitcase under his bed.

Alex didn't think of himself as transsexual or anything. He'd never gone out dressed up, he'd never done any camming or posted pics of himself dressed up, and he didn't want to become a woman or start crossdressing full-time. It was more of a game he played on occasion, usually when he was depressed or frustrated, a game which he'd played since he discovered the excitement found in putting on his sister's panties. When he played the game meant he'd put on lingerie, strut around and pose in mirrors, maybe toy with his asshole a little, and masturbate. Alex always felt a bit ashamed about the habit (especially after he'd cum) and from time to time made a resolution to stop. But he always came back to the game, especially in periods when he felt particularly rejected or unloved.

Alex admitted to himself that a big part of the game was imagining being with a man, a dominant man of the sort women seemed to go for. Also fantasizing about what such a man might demand from Alex or force him to do. That fantasy made the whole thing much more exciting, as did including a little self-bondage while wearing lingerie. Alex also had occasional dreams involving sex with other men, which could occur even while he was in a relationship with a woman (he'd had them during his time with Heather, for instance). But in Alex's opinion that didn't mean he was a closeted gay or bisexual or something along those lines. His reasoning was that the game was just a game, no one can control their dreams which didn't mean anything anyway, he was attracted to women, and his past relationships were always with women. All that meant he must be straight, right?

Anyway, the suitcase under Alex's bed was full of what he thought of as his "game gear." Various lingerie he'd acquired over the years (much of it stolen from former girlfriends), a red lipstick (ditto), a few items such as a hairbrush handle, a large plastic test tube, a rubber wiener-shaped dog toy and so on which had struck him as being acceptable dildos, some soft ropes, a large leather dog collar and leash, and so on. He kept it locked and stuffed far under the bed both to prevent discovery by visitors and also to force him to make an effort to get at it. There were a number of times in the past where the inconvenience was enough to discourage Alex from playing the game, which as already mentioned is something he was always rather ashamed of.

But that day Alex got the suitcase out, put it on the bed and unlocked it. Ten minutes later he was wearing white satin panties, pantyhose, and a frilly pink babydoll, and his cock was hard as steel.

Alex strolled out into the living room of his apartment, grinding his hips like a streetwalker, feeling very naughty and sexy.

"Hello, sir. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Alex squawked incoherently and nearly jumped out of his skin, then sighed in relief. It was Clive, of course, noticing him from where the servitor was recharging in the corner. Unlike his previous servitors, Clive's voice was so natural that for an instant Alex had thought there was a man in the apartment with him!

Clive unplugged and wheeled closer. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't get that. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Now, Clive sported multiple cameras giving him all-around view, but the designers put a pair of mock "eyes" on him that "focus" on the person or object he's paying primary attention to simply to make it easier for humans to relate to him. Right now Clive was focused on Alex, which subjectively felt like he was staring at the lingerie Alex had on. Alex felt an involuntary blush rise to his cheeks, simultaneously embarrassed and obscurely turned on. Alex knew neither response was appropriate. Clive probably had no idea the human in front of him was dressed in sexy women's clothing, and wouldn't care even if he did.

"Like what you see, big boy?" Alex asked flippantly.

Clive reflected. "If you are asking me if your clothing matches in terms of colors and styles, I believe it does. Do you want me to suggest additional apparel from your wardrobe to wear over these undergarments?"

Alex realized Clive was accessing something on servnet, presumably a women's fashion database. "I don't think I have anything that goes with this."

"Some of your jeans and sweaters could be considered appropriate," Clive stated blandly. "Your wardrobe currently lacks skirts that would show off your legs. However I could assist you in ordering some."

Alex giggled helplessly. "No, thanks."

"Then is there anything else I can do for you, sir?"

Alex's mind worked. "How about a back massage?"

"Please remove your upper clothing and lie on the couch, sir."

Alex took off the babydoll and laid face-down. Clive's strong, assured hands began to glide over his skin. He'd warmed them without asking this time, and his touch was so much like having a man's hands giving a massage that Alex began to shiver in excitement.

As Clive's hands moved down to the small of Alex's back he blurted out, "Do my ass, please."

There was a very short pause as Clive accessed something. "Would you like to remove your undergarment first, sir?"

"They're pantyhose," Alex said softly.

"Would you like to remove your pantyhose first, sir?"

Alex was conflicted about this. "No, rub me through them."

Clive hands descended to Alex's butt cheeks and began a soft massage through the satin covering. Alex moaned softly and started to grind his stiff prick against the sofa cushions.

Clive's hands withdrew. "Are you in pain or is this all right, sir?"

"It's good, just keep going," Alex groaned. Clive hands descended to paw his ass once more. Alex humped the cushions harder and in a few moments spewed his load inside the panties.

As soon as Alex's orgasm ended he felt disgusted with himself. He brusquely ordered Clive to stop the massage, then as an afterthought told him to clean up the wet spot on the couch.

Clutching his hands over his crotch to keep cum from leaking onto the carpet, Alex scurried off to the bathroom.

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That was the first time. It wasn't the last, of course.

Alex had never been mechosexual. He knew about such people, naturally, it was all over the media. People who rigged servitors into makeshift sex objects and preferred them to dealing with a human partner. There was a wide range of sophistication in doing this, from dabblers who simply fastened a dildo or fleshlight on a servitor to enthusiasts who went to great lengths to engineer the "perfect lover." The latter had a very active online community which traded programming tricks, chassis or limb modifications to allow more "natural" sex movements, and plans for prosthetic phalluses, vaginas, mouths, and breasts to attach to various servitor models.

But no matter how little luck Alex had with real girls he'd never considered doing a robot. He thought of mechosexuality as an extremely weird fetish.

The thing was, Clive was so much more advanced than any of the servitors the mechosexuals usually got their hands on that Alex really didn't have to do anything to him to make Clive a credible man, at least as far as Alex was concerned. Not that Clive was a true humaniform android (these remained impractical for most uses) but Clive's vocal tone and depth and mannerisms all strongly indicated "male." This was a deliberate choice by the manufacturer to give Clive an "English butler" vibe.

And to Alex, Clive's strong, firm, slightly rough (due to the texturing that allowed him to pick up smooth objects) hands told the same story at his voice. They were definitely a male's hands, even if they did have only three fingers. Once Alex's eyes were closed it was pretty easy to think of Clive as a man.

At this point however Clive was hardly the sort of domineering man that usually featured in Alex's dress-up fantasies and dreams. Clive was programmed as a servant after all, meaning he constantly checked for and deferred to his owner's whims, and he acted very respectful and rather formal at all times.

Alex had his nosed rubbed into Clive's limitations the very next time he tried including him in Alex's games, which happened a little less than two weeks after the first episode. The disgust Alex had felt with himself after that time faded quickly, replaced by the memory of how intense the situation had felt while it was happening. He also kept thinking about how easy and how safe it would be to let Clive give him another massage. After all, he'd had Clive do it a number of times before when he wasn't dressed up. It wouldn't really be any different if he asked for another one while wearing lingerie.

Alex knew this was a rationalization, of course, which kept him from actually acting on the temptation immediately. But he finally gave in, dragged out the suitcase again, and put on a red panty and bra set, nude pantyhouse, and a long sheer white nightgown. Heart pounding, Alex walked out into the living room.

Clive was cleaning. As Alex entered he paused. "Is there anything I can do for you, sir?"

The "sir" dampened the mood a little. Alex cleared his throat and said, "What do you think of this outfit, handsome?"

"It appears you're dressed for bed, sir. Is the vacuuming disturbing your sleep?"

Alex sighed. "I'd like a back massage."

"Please remove your nightgown and lie on the couch, sir."

Alex slowly, sensuously removed the nightgown, trying to recapture the excitement he'd felt getting ready. Clive said nothing, of course, not having any reason to do so, but his lack of response frustrated Alex. He lay down on the couch, and Clive hands touched him ... then stopped.

"Would you like to remove your bra first, sir?"

"Do it for me," Alex breathed.

A pause. "I cannot find a method for this on a quick search. A more in-depth search is likely to take more time than it would take for you remove the garment yourself, sir. How do you wish to proceed?"

Alex sighed more heavily. "Hold on, I'll do it." He sat up, slipped the straps down and began struggling with the clasp, ending up bending one of the hooks in his hurry which only made Alex more frustrated. Finally he got face down on the bed again sans bra, and Clive began the massage.

It was an excellent massage as usual. As Clive hands moved south Alex's excitement began rising again. As the servitor's fingers rubbed lower Alex murmured, "Do my ass again, like before."

Clive didn't ask if Alex wanted to removed the pantyhose, apparently his inclusion of "like before" indicated to Clive that this would be through the garment. Again Alex felt disappointed and frustrated, realizing this time it was because Clive hadn't suggested that Alex bare himself for Clive's touch. The rubbing of Alex's clothed rear just didn't seem as exciting now.

"Take off my pantyhose for me," Alex suggested.

This started out great. Clive hooked his fingers under the waistband, and as he tugged the nylon slid down baring Alex's ass. But then Clive kept tugging, determined to get the legs of the garment off as well, which after all was the literal interpretation of his instructions. The pantyhose got caught on Alex's erection, requiring considerable maneuvering by both participants to free the garment from the snag and complete the task.

By the time the pantyhose were completely off Alex had lost the mood again, along with his hard-on. When Clive's hands finally returned to Alex's rump Alex began grinding his cock the way he had the last time, hoping to regain his stiffy.