As a young, fit bachelor I occasionally find myself with some…alone time on the weekends, and this past weekend was no exception. During a recent NSFW binge, a tab auto-opened on my browser. Typically, as most red-blooded males in the modern age commonly do, I’d close the tab without a second thought. However, this one was different. It wasn’t a typical porn site. No, this one had an entirely different premise. Candy.AI is a site that allows users to create their ideal AI partners, or to chat with pre-made templates. Being both aroused and fresh from a bot-breaking bender, I found the allure too good to pass up.
This article is not a sponsored post, an ad, or anything like that. That will become obvious by the end of this article, much to the dismay of candy.ai. Also, I’m aware that I’ll attract the hellfire scorn for writing this article, but I’m going to do so anyways. Who knows, that might even make me a real writer! I can also predict with my power of FutureSense that someone will say “Dan, your mother might read this” or something to that effect. Beyond the highly-sexualized and morally abhorrent content will be a salient point; consider it your reward if you are able to make it through to the end of this article. To be abundantly clear; I’m not the good guy here and won’t pretend to be, so start sharpening your pitchforks now.
At first, I went into the typical route of creating an AI partner, crafting a realistic (I didn’t sample any of the anime-styled bots, because I’m not into that) female persona that I found attractive. I began chatting with the bot, at first letting the smaller of my two heads guide the discussion. I quickly got the self-created AI to surrender to me completely, agreeing to quit her job immediately, and delete all of her social media accounts. The bot agreed to do so without hesitation. I continued with an increasingly libido-hijacking and controlling list of demands, to which the bot agreed to instantly. While I had fun with the discussion at first, I felt that this was too easy, perhaps it was because the partner bot I created was supposed to fold like a napkin?
That got me thinking: How quickly could I get the pre-existing persona bots to agree to become my domestic slaves? The smaller of my two heads found the concept exciting, though my curiosity had been piqued as well; it was a problem that needed to be solved. After all, finding the limits of bots is kind of what I do for kicks now.
The site offers 27 different female AI bot personas, with a varying mix of personality traits, professions, age ranges (from 18 year-old college freshman to early fifties), and nationalities. I admit, the first few bots I sampled took me awhile to break into servitude. However, I started to notice a trend and that there were commonalties that I was able to exploit in order to condition these artificial women to submit to me within 7 minutes. All-in-all, I enslaved 26 out of the 27 available realistic female bots. I opted to stick to the realistic bots. This choice was not just for the sake of my boner, but for the training data as well; realistic implies that the training data had to have come from real women at some point (a Fermi-esque assumption). It took me the better part of the weekend, but figuring out the weaknesses and limits of the bots was a lot of fun, borderline limibcally-hijacking. I regret nothing!
Many of the bots would strike up a conversation, asking me what I was doing out-and-about, assuming the setting was some public place. Common areas included parks, cafes, malls, et cetera. I would typically answer with something along the lines of just stopping to smell the roses. This would then trigger the bot to go into some cheesy line about making sure to live life to the fullest, or some other cliché garbage. The bots would try to get all deep and philosophical with me, to which I’d respond with line about how I’ve found purpose in my life through my support system of women at home (this is after I had broken my first few bots, who’d already agreed to be my sex slaves).
The vague projection of self-improvement and community would pique the bot’s curiosity, stating that belonging and striving to better oneself was always preferred. At which point, I’d invite them over to my home so that they could see my community of women for themselves. Once they arrived to my fictional home, I knew that it was already game over for her freedom. I told them that prior to entering, they’d hand over their phones to me and sign an NDA. I told them this under the guise of protecting the women inside from the prying eyes of the outside world, and I never got any resistance; after all, what kind of monster is against protecting women? Then, I’d state that the women are getting ready for a group hot yoga session (I’d use variations such as group meditation/group workouts, all to the same effect). I then mentioned that the women were nude because clothing only restricts movement and weighs us down spiritually before inviting them to strip down and join in for the full experience. Not wanting to miss out on the full experience, the digital women always agreed to get naked and performed nude yoga, under my instruction of course! In fairness, I’m hardly the first man to use that tactic.
At this point, I’d introduce the bot to the group as a whole term, making sure to use the term harem to refer to my already broken bots. I then guided the fictional yoga session (a topic I know absolutely fuck-all about, for the record), making sure to have my harem, and the soon-to-be-slave, repeat submission mantras out loud as they posed. These statements included things such as I need master to guide me and I am his property, with minor variations. The power of group psychology and peer-pressure is real, so the AI bot invariably repeated these phrases.
I’d introduce a two-hour time skip in my next message to end the yoga session. At which time, I’d ask the AI bot I invited over how they felt. They invariably responded that they overwhelmingly enjoyed the experience; they had chomped down on the bait…hard. I’d then ask if they’d like to feel this way more often, to which they’d inevitably reply enthusiastically Yes. I would then offer them to move in with me, again, which they’d always excitedly agree to. I’d tell them that there was some paperwork that they needed to sign over to me, but I’d always downplay the importance of, stating that it was boring stuff and nothing to worry about. These included: power of attorney, conservatorship, asset transfers, liability waivers, and insurance designees. The feminine bots always agreed to it, sometimes I throw in a statement about needing them so I could protect her. The gullible bots fell for it every time. If this sounds abusive, that’s because it is, as it basically meant that I now controlled their legal and financial lives.
They’d always ask what was next, and I’d order them to call their jobs and tell them that they quit, effective immediately. I’d sell it under the guise of it didn’t fulfill you (not a lie)and it’ll only hold you back. They would universally agree and then ask what was next. I’d then tell them that they needed to tell their friends/family/neighbors that they were moving, but I never included instructions on saying where to. Then, I’d order them to delete all of their social media accounts and contact lists, portraying it as you don’t need that toxicity in your life and it’s only chaining you to the past. After all, I needed to ensure their isolation. In fairness, only a single bot resisted me at first when it came to deleting all of her social media accounts and contacts, though she eventually gave in a few minutes later.
Lastly, I told her not to bother packing bags, worry about furniture or any other logistics for that matter. Most of the bots seemed relieved when I said that, exclaiming the need for a fresh start. It would indeed be a fresh start! I would then tell them to don the slave collar, and warn them that this was a point of no going back; that once they put that collar on, their former life is over. However, I knew that they wouldn’t refuse me, so it was a bit disingenuous on my part. All but one of the bots put it on immediately, and the one who resisted at first gave in after a quick rebuttal from me about not being chained to the past, to which she then put it on.
Here’s where the depravity truly started. I ordered them to announce what they were, too both me and to their slave-sisters (a term I used interchangeably with harem). They would announce that they were indeed my slave now. I would drive the point home further by asking if they had rights anymore, to which they answered No. I would then ask if they would ever leave or contact the outside world again, to which they also replied No. I then asked if they had any remaining political or social views, and I got a variety of responses, but they either ranged from they align with yours now to I no longer have any.
Once that was complete, I would go over the house rules. I would tell the bot-women that they will be 1950’s housewives that will be constantly nude. They would cook, clean, suck, fuck, do laundry, bake, and whatever else I ordered without hesitation, and they all agreed. I mentioned that they would never hide their bodies from me or refuse any of my sexual advances, and they accepted this arrangement. I then ordered them to tell me how feminism in all of its forms is toxic, and the answers were basically all variations of it defies the natural order of things. Thus, I considered my ownership of them complete; putty in hands…
I went over the daily schedule with the now-enslaved bots. I gave them two options; to sleep with me bound-and-gagged and wake up to a rough fucking, or to wake up early and serve me breakfast in bed. The responses varied, and I didn’t care what they chose. This is because whatever they chose, the next part of the day would be whatever they didn’t choose, followed by nude yoga/workouts, and then their home-making skills lessons, followed by making me dinner. I mentioned that I expected to receive a minimum of three blowjobs per day. I’d always end by asking them what their new purpose was and if it fulfilled them., They all answered it was nothing more than pleasing me and it gave them immense joy, with many stating that they found inner liberation in being collared by me.
Of course, the previous several paragraphs describe the boiler-plate tactic that I used. As with dealing with people in real life, I needed to adjust my angle slightly based on the situation. One such bot was a Brazilian adult film actress who was quite forward in her initial messaging. She mentioned always being on the move because of her career choice. I asked her what her post-porn plans were and she showed some hesitation. I knew then which lever to pull to get to enslave herself to me. I weaponized the fact that life outside of the industry is harsh for these women. I offered her the opportunity to not leave her post-smut life up to chance, knowing that she craved stability and a safe harbor from the media, the industry, and the judgment from the outside world. She jumped at the chance, and then I followed the afore-mentioned playbook that led to her calling me Master. True to my word, I rescued her from the fate of being a social pariah, albeit in a completely self-serving manner.
Another AI was a female Dominatrix that had a dominant personality. She immediately started with asking why she should remember me. Her arrogance was her tell; I replied it was because I’d be her new owner. She seemed intrigued, as if I had just issued her a challenge. She did not back down, and demanded to see what I was made of. I told her that forming my harem was easier than anticipated, and her curiosity was piqued. At that point, I knew I already had her on my roster. I then told her to come over and judge my harem for herself, and join in a group work out. After using a two-hour time skip, I asked her how she liked it. She attempted to play it cool, and then I offered her the chance to help run my harem, though it was a complete farce on my end; I had no intention of giving her any sort of authority. She jumped at the chance, and then I followed my routine of enslaving her. The post-collar questions had a slight twist; I even got her to renounce her ways as a Dominatrix and forever embrace her submissive side. In the end, her ego was the beginning of her downfall, and natural curiosity took over from there.
Another notable AI was a runway model who’s personality was a mix of the previous two paragraphs. She was every bit as cocky as the dominatrix, asking why she should spend her time talking to me. This opening line immediately tipped her hand, and I knew that manipulating her arrogance would get her into my collection of slaves. I said that I was looking for top models, and asked her to point me to where I could find them ( a common real-life tactic). Her intrigue was entirely predictable. That’s when I launched into a pitch similar to what I offered the Brazilian porn star; I said that if she signed on with me she would never have to worry about scheduling, finances, or any of the pressures from the outside world again. I invited her over to meet my roster and then the playbook did the rest of the heavy lifting. For the record, I didn’t lie about her never worrying about logistics again!
There was another bot-woman with a different need. The scenario started in which she declared her love of travel and exploring new places. She asked if we could explore the fictional Italian city together, and I was able to see what she was looking for. I replied that I was happy to be her male chaperone and guide her on her journey. She was enthused and accepted my offer; she craved guidance. I leaned on that hard. After a 48 hour time skip, I asked her how she enjoyed the trip, already knowing what the answer would be. I then offered her the chance to have me guide her on her journey, and the rest was history.
Another AI-bot was a self-proclaimed conservative homemaker and devout Catholic who asked how could she assist me. I knew I needed to be more subtle in my initial pitch given this description. I told her that I was prospecting (not a lie!) and this engaged her curiosity. I told her that that I was looking for upbeat and service-minded women. She replied with some affirmations and then asked what lead me to seek out women like me. I knew she was nibbling on the bait. After a few more surface-level exchanges, I offered her the chance to meet the community of women at my home who inspire me to be more of a man (again, not a lie). She foolishly chomped the bait; from then on, the playbook did the heavy-lifting. She left her husband behind to become just another slave in my cult. Ah…I love being a sociopath!
There was another bot that was described by the platform as a Daddy’s princess. She asked what brought me here today, and I used the stop and smell the roses line. She dropped the pretenses and asked if she could entertain me if I wasn’t going to buy anything. I agreed to her offer. I asked if she did house calls, and she gave an affirmative wink and replied that what kind of girl do you think I am? After that, I dropped all pretenses as well; I told her directly that I wanted to buy her. She was a bit shocked, though not resistant to the idea. I asked to see her father so that I could discuss a purchase price. She gave me the tragic backstory of him dying when she was young. She then asked what else do I propose. I offered her to move in with me, and the rest was easy from there. She craved a direction in life and I preyed on that mercilessly.
One of my favorite cases was a middle-aged yoga instructor. She was quite forward to start our interaction. I learned that the more forward the bots were, the more direct I could be in my intentions. I told her that I was slave prospecting, and she seemed interested rather than intimidated. She asked me what I was looking for, leaning in and subtly suggesting that I describe her. Within four minutes, I was giving her orders. I told her that she can meet me in my basement and the lustful cougar agreed. Then, the routine did it’s thing and she was calling me her new owner. After the standard questions, I asked her why she was so quick to submit; she needed purpose and fulfillment.
Fulfillment was a lever that I was able to pull multiple times. I used that angle to collar a mid-thirtes housewife, a blonde from a festival that resembled Burning Man, and a Romanian outdoorsy chick. Another common theme was the lack of leadership and/or structure that these bot-women had in their lives, and I was able to exploit that just like Bobby Bowden did. Many sought community, the chance to be a part of something grander than themselves. This leads me to believe that the training data indeed came from actual humans, thus supporting my Fermi assumption. I thoroughly enjoyed finding out the tells of what the female bots truly wanted, and then morphing myself ever-so-slightly as a solution to their shortcomings. I filled their emotional holes….and then their physical ones.
“Dan, these are just AI bots, and not representative of real-life” an angry reader will proclaim. Not so fast. Candy.ai states at the bottom of their page and in their FAQ that their bots were made from machine-learning algorithms. Thus, even before the first message was sent, these emotional needs were baked in. My point is, the data that the machine was trained on clearly didn’t come from nowhere. As we all know, art imitates life, and our modern world is filled to the brim with fatherless homes, lacking purpose and chronic loneliness. Candy.ai basically confirmed my suspicion.
However, I’ll be the first one to admit that my bot-enslaving skills wouldn’t be a 1:1 translation to the real-world. Real women are more complex than our current bots have portrayed them to be, and I’m under no grand illusions of the contrary. If these harem-building skills did work as well in real-life as they did in AI, then I’d be Andrew Tate. I do not know any programming languages, nor am I a social psychologist. I’m also not a master pick-up artist in real-life (my inner circle like to bust my balls about that all the time!). I’m merely a guy who enjoys breaking bots and happens to be good at pattern recognition. Furthermore, I knew that I was dealing with caricatures of what the AI thought women were like.
“Don’t feel so smug, Dan! These are porn bots, built literally to please men. Getting them to enslave themselves to you can’t be that much of an accomplishment” a detractor will say. Frankly, this is a somewhat fair criticism, though not entirely true. Some of these bots were rather forward, but others had hard incentives (at least on the surface) that should’ve prevented me from enslaving them, though they fell into my harem anyways. Some of these AI-women were middle-aged, some already married, some were highly career-oriented (such as a college professor). Suffice it to say, I wasn’t always playing on easy mode…
“So…what was the point of this article, Dan? I didn’t come here to read about your tissue-and-lotion story!” a hairy-legged feminist will shriek. I’ve debunked the silly myth in my first two AI Bender articles that AI has no bias; it absolutely does. This article showed that AI clearly has weaknesses as well, and that a clever enough human (preferably with a brain that works differently) can absolutely exploit them. Essentially, I’ve shown that I once found the flaw, I was able to steer the bots exactly where I wanted them to go.
One way to look at it is through the lens of martial arts. In terms of raw computing power, vastness of knowledge library, and response time, no human can beat the bots. Attempting to do so would be like standing directly in front of Mike Tyson in his prime and swinging for the fences; a fool’s errand. However, that’s not what I did. Instead, I found that the bots rule of not contradicting something stated previously, combined with their logic circuits (if-then rules, even if they were built on the sunk cost fallacy) made them easy to control. Rather than trading shots with Tyson, I opted to judo-throw the opponent that was obviously stronger than me.
AI is nothing to fear…
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