Sex with Robots

One of the first robot sex brothels opened in Barcelona in 2017. Punters could pay £100 to fuck their choice from a range of £12,000 silicone sex dolls, some of which would breathe, moan, and fidget while being used. You could have your doll in whatever position or costume you wanted. You could enact any fantasy, no matter how depraved. Management insisted that you’d be hard-pressed to distinguish their dolls from “real” women.

As lurid as all that sounds, the idea appeals. I would, hypothetically, fuck a robot.

I say “hypothetically”, because I probably wouldn’t fuck those robots. Sex tech at the moment is marooned in the depths of the uncanny valley. Even the most high-tech toys available on the market don’t really look real, and their functionality is limited: it’s a stretch to even call them robots rather than dolls.

The robots I fantasise about do not exist in the world today. They are sleek, well-crafted, nimble. They are science-fiction androids; indistinguishable from real humans except for their limitlessness, their absolute obedience, and their slightly clinical manner.

What I want is to fuck Ava from Ex Machina. A Stepford wife. A replicant. A sex doll imbued with the kind of naturalistic artificial intelligence we see in Her, or Star Wars, or Humans. Something that definitively is not human, but which it would be absurd to think of as merely a doll.

There’s so much that appeals about the idea of this kind of robot. There’s their sexual prowess, of course – an artificial intelligence would be able to read me like no human could, and get me off with machine-like precision. And there’s the ease: no messy human emotions, no energy needed to communicate or parse emotions (something I struggle with). Sex with a robot would be as easy and joyful as masturbation.

And there’s the fact that they could be anything: a sex robot could be modified to look exactly the way I want, act exactly the way I want, have the exact temperament and voice and energy that I want. For someone who’s into control, that’s insanely hot.

The kind of sex robots I fantasise about could easily embody all these things.

Alas, they don’t exist yet. We’re nowhere close. But technology is advancing at a rate that makes me believe we’ll get there in my lifetime. Before I die, there’ll exist a robot sex brothel that doesn’t give me the creeps.

And when that happens, I’ll be there money in hand, ready for a weird, dirty, vulgar adventure.