Stories from the chans

Share or request information and reviews on various forms of fembot media.
(Please use the search option before requesting a review as it may have been covered in the past)
Post Reply
Extyr
Posts: 394
Joined: Sat Jul 30, 2011 6:30 pm
Technosexuality: Built
Identification: Human
Gender: Male
x 71
x 30
Contact:

Stories from the chans

Post by Extyr » Wed Feb 17, 2016 12:37 am

While browsing the darknet I found those stories:

Electric Sleep: An engineer fembot gets a few unexpected upgrades
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1mB4 ... iSxr8/edit
Has a sequel in progress:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LYG ... sp=sharing

Kle0philia: For those who found the assaultrons in fallout 4 sexy
http://sexualassaultron.tumblr.com/post ... hapter-one
Has currently 3 chapters and more seem planned.

Lewd Robot Repair: I found this story in a pastebin that has since expired, so I'll just repost it here

Code: Select all

Lewd Robot Repair

The interregnum following the ouster of the Gormili Emperor in the year 3687 R.E. witnessed the inundation of civil society with an unprecedented number of autonomous androids: former soldiers in the costly wars that had bankrupted Gormilia, they struggled to adjust to life on a world that excoriated them.

Mark Hartwright stood on the balcony over his family shop in a back-alley industrial district in the smallish city of D-2. His cigarette smoke contributed tiny puffs to the immeasurable plume of smog that pooled in the sky overhead and stained it a furious red-gray. He was temporarily alone with his thoughts and his smoke, silent amidst a din of clanking machinery in the surrounding factories.

He watched his neighbor Ellonide carrying containers into her snack store one at a time. She stopped to wipe her brow and waved up at him. "Hey, Mark!" she called from below squinting at his silhouette against the burning sky. "When does your dad come home?"

"Not for a couple weeks," he replied. Brushing some curly, black locks aside and nodding politely down at her. The young mechanic went on, "He's working on some big project for the government. It's a secret. He won't even tell me what it is."

"Ooh, that's exciting!" She said cheerily. Gloved hands hoisted another crate of brightly colored drinks. The speaker above her shop door let out a flat, little tone as she disappeared inside, reminding him to come and see her again if he got tired of watching the repair shop.

His father (Rebb Hartwright) had founded Hartwright's Custom Droid Repair decades ago. He was a master of the craft, with a fantastic mechanical mind. The shop room looked more like a hangar, full of turbines and cables of every description, neatly organized tools, metal plates, and plastic parts. Yet, despite his skill, they were not wealthy. Rebb specialized in repairing unique droids, expensive custom and imported models, which had steadily fallen out of popularity over the last few years. Few of the nobility retained their opulent android servants in the wake of the revolution. Many had been "decommissioned" or fled. Those that remained were standard models that could be serviced by nearly any droid tech. It didn't help matters that Rebb was almost irresponsibly generous. He often services autonomous droids free of charge, especially if they were down on their luck. Now they mostly made money from servicing droids owned by big businesses Mark couldn't even count how many heat-sinks he had changed on XG2 mining units. Ever try to have small talk with a mining droid? He got his hand stuck in one once and it wasn't nearly as painful as trying to talk to them. As it was, the store hadn't had a single customer that day.

It started to rain shortly after he went inside to prepare a meager dinner over the tiny stove. It pattered on the streaky windows and the thin, sheet metal roof. It made such a racket, he almost missed hearing a faint knock at the door. Yet something about the faint rapping plucked at his mind and he stopped scraping the gruel in the pan for a second and listened quietly. It came again after a few seconds, but no louder, and no more insistent. It was the exact same faint, formal knock. He left the kitchen and worked his way to the front of the shop. The light had changed from reddish to bluish-gray and only a bare lightbulb in the middle of the room tinged the half-rusted droid bodies with a drab yellow color. He looked at a greasy clock on the wall. Taking into account the fact that the green digital numbers were usually 14 minutes fast, Mark noticed with some anxiety that it was very nearly the curfew, after which humans and free A.I. were either to be shut safe indoors or able to present a work permit to be scanned by police droids.

Leaning against the iron shop door, the young man cleared his throat. "Who? Ah... Who is it?" He attempted sternness. The attempt was met with another tepid sort of knock: identical in speed and rhythm to the previous two. Anxiously Mark cracked open the door. A droid, with a feminine frame perched primly on the stoop beneath the tin awning. Big eyes made of amber-colored pixels focused on him and refracted in the myriad raindrops clinging to a tinted glass face-screen. The otherwise featureless face was set into a blue plastic frame: not unlike an aircycle helmet. The artificial skull was surmounted by an angular, blue, metal structure. Into this headpiece was set a blood-red diamond, glinting darkly. While at the bottom of the face frame was a small, gray trapezoid, down-turned like a pouting mouth and perforated to allow the voice to escape from the speakers Mark knew it concealed.

"Are you the proprietor of this establishment?" Though it sounded female, it wasn't a cool robotic voice, that Mark heard. If anything, he detected a hint of frustration in his visitor. Mechanical parts whirred and clicked quietly when the face turned toward him intently.

"I... Am. Sort of... Who are you?" He fumbled.

"I am Nadia: Striker Class (4RC-4NJ31). Is this a droid workshop? I was directed here by my navmap. I am in need of recharging. Here is my security certificate." The golden eyes flashed, then disappeared and were replaced with an electronic copy of a yellow form full of fine print, signed, and stamped from the central bureaucracy.

Mark's dark eyes widened a little. The yellow version of this form was reserved for android soldiers from the armies of the exiled Emperor. He was surprised he had not recognized it even though the light was dim and her weapons systems had obviously been dismantled. She was indeed a Striker Class, a Valkyrie probably. No, wait... 4RC? She's an Archangel?

The legal form winked away and the big pixel eyes fixed themselves on Mark's face again. "Well!?" Nadia barked imperiously. "I have been turned away from every workshop in this city. I have kredits. Will you let me charge myself here?"

Mark opened the door. "Of course," he said, sincerely, "please come in."

Nadia looked taken aback. She had been prickly, almost gruff, before but now... "You understand what I am, correct?" She said over the patter of gray rain in the gutter street.

"Yes." Mark replied simply. His father was not native to Gormilia, and although Mark had few memories of his home, Gormili language did not come quickly to him. He was a clever listener, but would never be described as verbose.

"I am a Striker class android: a combat drone. Thrall to the deposed Emperor of Gormilia." She almost seemed to choke with bitterness. "For the last four years I have been imprisoned for war crimes, locked in stasis mode. Today they have released me but everywhere I go, they shun me like a pariah. Will you still permit me to enter?"

With the door open, Mark could see her full profile. The modular weapon units on her back had indeed been removed but he noticed two large, blue hover turbines hung down from the back of her head. The large armor pieces that traditionally covered the breast-piece, shoulders, and hips of an Archangel unit had been removed. Her blue forearm guards and bell-shaped lower leg plating was scratched, but still intact, most of the rest of her slender, human-like figure was dressed in plates as white as milk. Over this she wore only a wet, blue-green windbreaker, with one torn shoulder, zipped up to just above her glistening white chest. Below the waist she was clad only in a pale-orange pair of panties. As an ensemble, it did a remarkably bad job of creating the impression of modesty, even on a robot.

"Of course," said Mark. "Please come in." Nadia did not say anything. Gratefully she followed Mark into the packed shop room. Her feet clanked like armor on the concrete floor and the electric motors that served as her muscles whirred to life with every movement. He led her to a charging station on the opposite wall, near the entrance to the living quarters. He pulled a black and yellow power coupling down from the ceiling and offered it to her. She bowed her head and a panel just above her neck parted to reveal her connector ports. Cautiously Mark draped his arms around her shoulders and felt for the right socket. He was conscious of the fact that his hands were shaking a little. It was not every day he got to work with such an incredible droid.  He checked that the connection was secure. A tiny lightning bolt symbol appeared on the left side of her face-screen.

"Thank you." said the Archangel. A mixture of sheepish and dubious.

"What is wrong with your internal generator? Why aren't your batteries charging?" Mark blurted out, awkwardly.

Nadia slowly rose up onto her tiptoes. Then she rose up into the air. She looked over him, thick cabling hung from the back of her head, and her body was shadowed by the light behind her. She lowered herself down onto a clear space of counter and crossed her legs.

"Internal generator non-operational. No coolant. Systems indicate a leak. Could you perform maintenance?"

"Sure. Let me take look." Mark switched on a dusty desk lamp and pointed it at Nadia who began to matter-of-factly disrobe. She discarded the wet blazer and panties and sat before Mark unashamedly.

Now bare, her torso consisted of a white, underwear-shaped lower panel and a breastplate of identical material, gently curved in an immitation of human femininity. These pieces were connected by a rubbery, flexible waist with little grooves running horizontally around it. Tenderly he removed her lightweight breastplate with a screwdriver. Neither of them spoke. Nadia did not move.

But when her internal systems were revealed Mark couldn't help but marvel at the beautiful and delicate craftsmanship. Engraved in a brass ring just below Nadia's "neck" was the word "Borticelli" when he asked if this was the name of her creator, she replied "Yes, Gregorio Borticelli is the designer of this unit."

"Borticelli was a genius..." What Mark didn't say was that he was also widely considered to be insane. Really insane. Like... Damn. and while he produced some of the most beautiful androids ever made, Mark had never before heard of him making a war machine.

These parts were so small, he needed something with magnified lenses. He stooped down to get a pair of goggles from a cabinet under the table. His eyes flicked furtively upwards when he found himself level with Nadia's hips. She sat with her legs spread, sparing nothing to his imagination. He felt color rising to his cheeks when he saw little convex mound between her thighs, mere centimeters from the cold countertop. 

He felt her eyes on him and averted his gaze, clearing his throat as he adjusted the goggles.

"Is everything alright?" Nadia asked innocently.

Mark jumped a little, and ran a hand through his hair. "Yes, I'm fine. Let's take a look at you." He carefully put his hands under Nadia's arms and held her sides as he peered into the cavity of her chest. Everything was laid out neatly and elegantly. With a gentle hand, Mark began to touch wires and visually inspect the empty missile cylinders and the processing units. He could see the front half of her internal power generator and the two main heat outlets for it which seemed to dispense heat from a pair of vents in her back. He could see that it was not running, and he touched it gingerly. Much to Mark's surprise Nadia giggled. It was a quick, musical sound. "That tickles!" She whispered.

Mark apologized profusely. He excused himself to fetch the food from the kitchen but he didn't feel very hungry anymore. He took the pot off the stove and paced back and forth nervously for a minute before he returned to the shop and continued his investigation. From the generator, he followed the coolant line to the pathos processors. Here he discovered some stains from a blue fluid and some kind of burn marks near one of the processors.

"I think I found the problem. Can you run diagnostics for the pathos processor in slot 4A?"

"Checking systems... Processor offline." Nadia's optic display screen changed to dense font once again. Mark had to crane his neck to look up into the screen. She was taller than him. Bringing his face close, however, enabled him to read the text clearly enough. The processor in slot 4A was the designated pride and shame algorithm reader, part of the superego processing group. Something had fried it, apparently taking out the coolant hose along with it and causing the internal generator to overheat. "Explains the lack of pants." Mark mumbled.

"What was that?" Nadia's voice startled him for a second time and he withdrew his face abruptly.

"I said umm.. That explains it.. Just a broken coolant hose. I can fix that in no time, then you won't have to do any more manual charging."

"Truly!?" Nadia's excitement was palpable. "Your kindness is more welcome than you could comprehend, Mr. Hartwright!" She started her twin turbines and wrapped her bare arms around Mark in an uncharacteristically jubilant hug.

Mark was being squeezed very tight and lifted from the ground like he was a child, both arms pinned to his sides, but his chief fear was that he would do damage to her delicate internal parts if he struggled. "Please!" He wheezed, "call me Mark." She set him down gasping for breath.

"But there's the matter of the burnt out processor, too." Said the mechanic when he had regained his composure and lit himself another cigarette. "Borticelli is famous for designing masterful emotion systems. But this is a small fix, I can swap it out with another processor in a few minutes, The problem is we will have to update your firmware to get it to recognize the new processor. I can't do that unless you sign a waiver of consent to personality modification on a sentient A.I."

Nadia turned her head to the side. The power cabling draped over her shoulders like thick hair. After some pause she reached out and touched 

Mark's arm gently. "Could you make me more human?"

Mark was feeling a little uncomfortable. Sure he could fiddle with the boot menu a little bit, but this was complex stuff. Nadia was a top-of-the line android, built by the brilliant and mad for the mad and powerful. But he did not fear her, Mark's only fear was inadequacy. It's what trapped him at home more than any curfew. It haunted him even though he was an extremely capable mechanic and a better programmer than his father. "I don't think I should mess with that." He said quietly.

"Please, Mark. I am sentient, but this shell permits me to experience so little. There must be something you can do." She took a half step forward and Mark receded in turn. Good lord, what was he going to do?

He was briefly rescued by a video call on the shop computer. "Excuse me, just one second." He slipped away to the main desk out of reach of Nadia, but not out of earshot.

"Mark, my boy!" His father's voice came howling into the room with what appeared to be a great quantity of wind.

"Dad! Where are you?" His father's big bushy beard split from ear to ear in a huge grin. And he brushed snow off his cap and shouted into the camera

"Can't tell ya, Mark, you know that! Just calling to see if everything is alright at the shop!" Behind him Mark could see the framework of some kind of huge structure and snow covered mountains. It appeared to be very early in the morning there.

"Actually," said Mark, a bit nervously, "I've got a droid here now. You're not gonna believe this but... It's one of Emperor Vigni's Archangels."

"Hell's bells, Mark!" Rebb caught his snow-encrusted fur cap with a thick-mittened hand just before the wind took it away. "Those Borticelli girls have to be careful! New government's gone and put a passive lock on all Vigni's old toys. They'll just shut down if they try to hurt anyone, but the Archangel class is full of incredibly rare parts! She in good shape?"

"Nearly perfect." Mark looked over his shoulder and yelped in surprise to see Nadia hovering over his shoulder.

"Hello, Mr. Hartwright." Said the droid, as she lowered herself to the ground.

"Hahaha! Hello there, Archangel." Rebb's beetle-black eyes lit up at the sight of her. "What can my boy and I do for you?"

"I need my personality systems adjusted for civilian life." Nadia's big golden eyes turned towards Mark. "Your son seems quite competent, and he has been very kind to me. I have kredits to pay for repairs."

"Dad, I don't think I can-"

"Keep yer money Archangel. He'll be happy to help."

"But, dad!"

"Mark, look, I'm your father so it kills me to say this, but you are a bit bland, kid. An opportunity like this doesn't come around every day. I think I have a pretty good idea what's happening here, unless I've missed my mark. So relax, take care of her you lucky punk. Or I will knock some sense into you when I get back. Okay, hold on, Bered, I'm talkin' to my kid. Alright sport, gotta go!" He dismissed any potential protest with a vigorous wave and then the call ended abruptly.

"Well then," Nadia said lightly. "I'm ready when you are, Mark."

He laughed nervously, "Right, okay, I'll just bring up that form and stuff... And-"

"Mark!" She cried in exasperation. Spinning him around by the shoulders like a rag doll and holding him. "Forget the paperwork! You and your father are the only people who have shown me kindness and honor in years! I have a mind and a manner suited only to a warrior, but I cannot 

fight! If I try to remove the passive lock, all my circuits will self-sabotage! Please! I'm begging you to remake me! I want to experience what it's like to live and be free, not wander the universe as a purposeless drone!" As she spoke, she pulled him closer and closer until their bodies were pressed right up against one another. 

Mark blushed furiously as he felt her strong, lightweight thighs on either side of his hips and the cusp of her nether parts brushing against him through the crotch of his pants.

"Okay! Alright! I'll see what I can do."

Twenty minutes later he had her laid out on one of the cleaner work tables. Mark had to turn more lights on as it became well, and truly dark outside. It only took him a few minutes to replace the two damaged parts, but Nadia was apparently extremely ticklish on the inside and would squirm and give off an electric laugh if he moved too quickly.

"Okay. That's all done. Let's just do a quick reboot and run off the default firmware settings to see if your new processor is working."

"Okay." Said Nadia, who now lay on her back with her knees raised. Her head was propped up by her two hover turbines and her chest was still open, just in case he had to swap out the processor again. Her pixel eyes narrowed from circles to bars and all her system lights went dim in unison. The noises of her body trailed off like a sigh and Mark suddenly felt strangely lonesome. Then she booted up again just as quickly and started to squeak in dismay.

"Mark!" She gasped, eyes widening impossibly.

"What? Are you okay!?" He asked worriedly

"Oh god Mark, I've been naked this whole time! How embarrassing!"

He relaxed visibly in his chair and ran his fingers through his dark curls. "Good, it looks like the repairs were successful. And you have nothing to be ashamed of. You're... Honestly the most beautiful android I have ever seen." He knew he was mumbling stupidly.

"Mark, I do not understand beauty. Or the concept of gender. But talking to you makes me want to understand. Can you please help me now?" She whispered.

"Okay, umm." He blushed, "Just... reboot yourself again and go to the setup menu right away."

"Of course! And, thank you! Really."

This time when the lights came back on in Nadia's facial screen it was a blue menu with blocky white text.

>4RC-4NJ31 BOOT MENU: PLEASE SELECT ONE OPTION.

>BOOT USING CURRENT SETTINGS
>BOOT IN SAFE MODE
>BOOT AND FORMAT TO DEFAULT
>RUN SETUP

Mark scrambled to unplug the keyboard from the computer and then nervously searched for Nadia's USB ports. He checked the nape of her neck, where the power coupling was still plugged in. He looked inside her exposed chest. He even checked her hands, and toeless feet. Finally, a seam in the broad hip-shaped region caught his attention. A tiny black switch perched just above it. Guiltily Mark flipped it. The bottom portion of 

Nadia's crotch plate split open like sliding doors revealing two things nestled in the soft black cabling. One was a small panel connected to her motherboard with several USB ports. But below that... Right between her thighs... It was made of dark blue (almost black) latex and it mimicked quite remarkably something Mark was quite familiar with (from the Internet). His guiltiness intensified. Plugging the keyboard in made it impossible to close the panel which he now found very distracting.

"On a combat unit..." He muttered to himself. "Only Borticelli."

Having selected the last option, the boot menu changed to show a list of tabs pertaining to things like power management, device boot order, and overclocking. The combat and weapons systems tabs were grayed out. But he was able to open the personality systems menu. Here Mark was confronted by a daunting list of options. Empathy intensity, sarcasm predisposition, irony responsiveness, at least fifty settings just related to humor. Okay. Here's something basic...

>PR.DYNAMIC.PERSONALITY=FALSE
>G.ENABLE.FREE_WILL=FALSE

Mark changed the values to true. He worked from there, researching parameters he was unfamiliar with until he was satisfied. Now the sensory tab. Enable smell and leave it at that. Vision settings looked fine. Touch... 

"Oh man." he sighed. 

>ENABLE.SEXUAL_AROUSAL.FROMTOUCH=FALSE
>ENABLE.ORGASM.FROMTOUCH=FALSE
>BREAST.SENSITIVITY=005
>CLITORAL.SENSITIVY=000

It went on like this for quite a while. Mark just looked up recommended settings for these values. Part of him, he realized guiltily, was enjoying this.

Nadia booted more slowly this time. Running a lot of personality programs was pretty CPU intensive. He had reattached her chest piece and her pure white breasts glinted in the bright fluorescent light. And while Mark knew that little yawn and stretch she did was "Sleepy.exe" compelling her brain to experience waking up like a human would, some part of him still found it adorable to see a powerful battle droid go "Nngh." with one arm over her head.

"Mark." She mumbled. Her pixel eyes were golden U-shapes. 

"How do you feel?" He asked.

She looked around her surroundings, then at him, then at the keyboard plugged into her crotch. she unplugged it quite innocently but her hand lingered. "I-- Oh..." She tipped her head back and ran one finger over her latex pussy. "Mark... I feel incredible."

"That's... great. I'm... Happy to hear that." he said, folding his hands over his lap to hide his erection.

She leapt off the table and grabbed him in her arms elatedly. It was more tender than last time however, she could have crushed him like a caterpillar but he was now distinctly aware that she was really -feeling- him almost as if for the first time. "Thank you, Mark! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I-- unnhh."

He hugged her firmly. Her pussy was pressed against the tent in his pants. God, what was he doing? He looked up into the face that was not a 
face and he kissed her. He wasn't entirely sure what effect this would have... She could not kiss him back, but very gently he felt the curved screen pressing up against his lips and almost inaudibly, she whispered his name again.

Her hips began to gyrate slowly. Making small mechanical sounds in time with her own artificial panting. Evidently she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Mark reminded himself that he hadn't planned for this. He hadn't retooled her with the intention of her being a sex robot. This was her own free-will systems telling her to do this. It made it even hotter for him.

"Mark, what's happening?" Asked Nadia. 

"You're... You're getting turned on."

She began to touch him. Her hands slid up under his hoodie. They felt for his dick through his pants. "Do you feel it, too? Does this feel good?" 

"God, yes. Oh my god." He tipped his head back and she undressed him quickly, almost roughly. He pulled his undershirt off as she removed his boxers.

"What should I do, Mark?" she asked meekly, voice trembling with desire.

"Stroke me," he told her as she wrapped one hand very carefully around his stiff, warm cock, "And touch yourself at the same time." She didn't need to be told twice. Mark was in awe. Nadia sighed in pleasure. Her smooth fingers were inexperienced, but precise and delicate. They worked his cock rhythmically while she fingered her own plastic pussy. 

"Hahnn... Nadia. Lie on the table again." He told her. She continued to touch herself as she did, writhing gently, like she couldn't keep still. He had to be careful not to get pinched in between her joints as he gently pushed her thighs apart and leaned in to kiss her pussy. 

Her cries of pleasure grew several octaves louder. He found it was leaking a sticky, sweet substance. Moreover, it was pulsing; whether it was from her arousal or intended for his, he wasn't quite sure. She grabbed a handful of his black hair and he winced when some of it got pinched in her finger joints, but she pressed his face into her android snatch until he felt the sides of the open panel pressing into his cheeks. He could barely breath; his nose was jammed into a USB slot. Still, he licked her eagerly, and masturbated himself as he did so. It was better than anything he had ever experienced.

Mark pulled himself up between her legs and she let go of his hair. His dick was throbbing hard and he was aching to fuck this robot. Here was a former top military general, a consciousness that had been in charge of countless thousands of robot soldiers, she was arching her back and begging for him to "put something inside" of her. Her voice was feeble with desire. He was happy to comply.

Seeing her eyes turn into stars when he finally slipped his cock inside her was almost amusing enough to ruin the mood. Mad Borticelli. But her sighs and gasps of pleasure brought him quickly back to peak arousal. He thrust and she squealed, wrapping her robot arms around his naked waist. They gyrated together. Him, panting; her alive with electric sex.

Just as the fucking reached a crescendo he pulled out and stood up. A bit dizzy as blood returned to his head, he pulled on her legs, intending to flip her over and fuck her doggy-style. She was far to heavy to move. 

"Mark! Please don't stop."

"Just lean over the counter."

She hastily complied and the coitus between man and circuitry resumed in earnest. The sex grew needful. Hollow clanging of metal on metal filled the shop as Mark's thrusting ground her hips and thighs against the countertops. The strain on Nadia's pleasure processing unit (Slot 3B, for the curious) was slowing down her other functions. But as her lover leaned forward to caress her "breasts" and automated response program set her lubed-up hole to vibrate. Mark seemed to thoroughly enjoy this unexpected stimulation, if his uncontrollable panting was any indication. Her own randy gyrations and frenzied noises of pleasure took on a quality that it would be misleading to call animalistic, but that may still be the best word for it. 

Mark was nearing his climax when something unanticipated happened. Both of Nadia's arms detached simultaneously in a burst of steam. "Keep going! I'm-- Ahhh! I'm gonna-- I'm gonna!" Her arms moved on their own. both of them grabbed onto Mark and clung to him tightly. One draped itself around his neck and, taking the cue from his fondling, grabbed a handful of his chest. The other groped him below, squeezed his ass, massaged his balls. The stimulation was too much. He came hard, crying out her name as he did. 

Nadia sensed his load being unleashed inside of her. The moment was tender and heated, shameful and lusty, ancient and novel, and above all things: human. Her processors were maxing out. Her core temperature was rising. Hearing him cry out "Nadia!" sent her over the edge. Her eyes rolled up to the top of her screen and the pleasure was so powerful she thought her systems would restart. 

They collapsed together. Mark was still panting (he was not really an athlete). Nadia was shaking hard and the vents in her shoulders let out a burst of shimmering hot air. Her detached arms went limp and lay where they fell. They had been each other's first.

Nadia turned out to be too heavy for Mark's tiny bed. He was exhausted, but she was too excited to put herself into sleep mode. She spent an hour just feeling her body. It was remarkable. Is this really how humans felt all the time? These sensations were so distracting. Even the cool night breeze on her nethers thrilled her as she stood in Mark's backyard and looked up at the stars. The storm had driven away the smog and the outskirts of D-2 were dim enough that she could see a fair few. Her mind ran maps of their names and she superimposed it over her visual field. While Mark dreamed of the sex he'd just had Nadia invented a narrative in her mind of the two of them going to the Caertus system together, living on a tropical water-beach somewhere, having all the sex she could ever want.

Slowly her elation faded. Doubt programs responded to her intense daydream algorithms, cleaning the ideas to create goal scripts. Mark had a job here. He had family. Maybe even a girlfriend, what did she know? She had nothing. This planet hated her. She was the one who had to flee. He had been kind to her, but she needed to get out. She needed money. The few hundred kredits she had would not get her off the planet, let alone both of them. 

Free will suddenly seemed a terrible burden. With regret heavy in her heart, she made her way back into the shop and quietly x-rayed the room until she found what she was looking for...

Later that night Mark was awoken by another knock at the door. This one was much more stern than Nadia's. Hastily he dressed in his pajamas and made his way downstairs. Nadia was nowhere to be seen, but... Wait a second. His eyes adjusted to the dim light he saw that the safe had been dragged out from behind a crate... Its door had been melted off and the contents (some meager 1,500 galactic kredits) were entirely missing. His expression hardened. The stern knock came a second time. Mark could hear voices as he approached. Robotic. Masculine.

"Nobody is here."

"You lied to us."

"Filthy traitor."

"let's go, come on."

Mark swung the door open.

This time there were three droids on his doorstep. Nadia, bound at the wrist with special droid restraints looking impressively more pathetic than the last time she stood here, once again wearing a ripped blue windbreaker, but with Mark's long gray undershirt beneath it to just about conceal her orange panties. He scowled at her. Flanking her on either side were two police droids. One held a gray backpack that was heavy with something by the straps. They were both brassy orange and armed with weapons and sirens.

"Are you Mark Hartwright?" said one.

"We picked up this android leaving your place a few minutes ago with a bag full of kredits." said the other.

Nadia said nothing.

"Nadia, I'm surprised at you!" scolded Mark.

She hung her head a little.

"I told you to take some of our spare Borticelli parts with you when you left. You're not going to be able to afford any replacements with that small sum of money." He folded his arms on his chest and looked at her severely.

She turned her face towards him suddenly, not quite comprehending the meaning of his words.

"You mean you gave her this?" asked the droid with the bag.

"Yes, I'm sorry officer, I know it's still curfew, but she was eager to leave. Please let her go." 

"Scum like this? She has yellow security forms. Why do you care about her?"

"She was just released from stasis yesterday. She'll be gone soon enough. don't trouble yourselves with her."

Nadia looked from Mark to the droids, clearly taken aback. 

The droids looked at each other. "Alright, fine," said the one with the bag, handing it back to Nadia, "But wait until the curfew is over next time." She accepted it numbly. and they departed into the night.

"Mark, I-" her voiced sounded tearful.

"Listen to me." He said forcefully and he laid his hands on either side of her screen. "Don't go down that road. You are a free droid. Your actions have consequence, and they have meaning. People can be narrow-minded and cruel. But you must be better than that. You must rise above them, or the cycle of misery will only continue." Mark's words were passionate and angry. And their righteousness burned Nadia like fire. She discretely checked the processor in slot 4A. She realized for the first time that Mark had overclocked it a little bit. and was working hard at the moment. She was overcome with guilt and slowly let the bag fall from her hand. 

"Oh, Mark! I'm so sorry!" She threw her arms around him. Golden pixels slid down the Y-axis of her facial screen giving the impression of tears. 

Mark softened a little, and hugged her tightly.

"And If you're going to go, you should have asked me to come with you." He said with a smile.

xerxes31415
Moderator
Posts: 305
Joined: Sat Jun 16, 2007 12:50 pm
Technosexuality: Built
Identification: Android
Gender: Male
Location: Los Angeles, CA
x 2
Contact:

Re: Stories from the chans

Post by xerxes31415 » Fri Feb 19, 2016 11:46 pm

Nice finds. Do you see any problem contacting the authors?

Extyr
Posts: 394
Joined: Sat Jul 30, 2011 6:30 pm
Technosexuality: Built
Identification: Human
Gender: Male
x 71
x 30
Contact:

Re: Stories from the chans

Post by Extyr » Sat Feb 20, 2016 6:28 pm

Considering that most of 4chan is anonymous, contacting those authors would be... difficult. The site itself deletes topics after a while...

xerxes31415
Moderator
Posts: 305
Joined: Sat Jun 16, 2007 12:50 pm
Technosexuality: Built
Identification: Android
Gender: Male
Location: Los Angeles, CA
x 2
Contact:

Re: Stories from the chans

Post by xerxes31415 » Sun Feb 21, 2016 12:22 pm

Yeah, that's a good point. However, I was figuring the google docs links might have an author behind them somewhere. I started a chat on the original one to see if anyone replies.

Esleeper
Posts: 96
Joined: Fri Mar 11, 2016 6:48 am
Technosexuality: Built
Identification: Human
Gender: Male
Contact:

Re: Stories from the chans

Post by Esleeper » Fri Mar 11, 2016 1:40 pm

xerxes31415 wrote:Yeah, that's a good point. However, I was figuring the google docs links might have an author behind them somewhere. I started a chat on the original one to see if anyone replies.
Well, you've got one of the authors of Electric Sleep and its sequels right here. Sorry to take so long to get a post written up- I didn't even realize this place existed until recently and only discovered it by complete accident. To be honest, I'm kind of flattered since I didn't even expect it to get a following outside of 4chan proper.

By the way, it seems like you missed the second part of Electric Awakening, which can be found in the below link. No porn in it, but if you like worldbuilding then you're in luck.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1O-M ... ekbwE/edit

Post Reply
Users browsing this forum: Google [Bot] and 24 guests