Mutuals Are Allowed To Inspect My Wires And My Circuitry. If They Want To ^_^

Imagine for a moment, kissing a robot girl with a CRT face.

It would be warm, a bit fuzzy with static. Maybe you'd even get a little zap from her.

Anyways thats all.

I'm normal trust me

put me in your pocket and take me with youuuu (ꉺᗜꉺ）

hey

*digitizes you and puts you in here*

Technician forgot they left their ring light next to my charging station last night, randomly woke back up to see it standing over me and freaked out for a second╭( ๐_๐)╮

Oh the urge to be a cute robot girl & be powered off & forgotten about for 100 years before a cute robotics nerd finds my damaged body & powers me back on. And then we slowly build a relationship as she repairs me, & we kiss after she gets me working even better than I ever did.

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

Unplugging your robotgirls speaker like

The dynamic of "scientist who wants to fuck the thing they're studying" gets exponentially better the further removed from the biological sciences you get.

Xenobiologist wanting to bang an alien is old news. Give me a programmer in love with his computer. Quantum physicist who gets horny when he gets to operate the partical accelerator. Do you understand

Flirt with that cute robot girl

Take her to a private room & open up her back panel

Dig through her internal electronics, yank her wires just hard enough to cause a spark, remove pieces & toss em to the side. She doesn't need them.

Short circuit her till she's unable to think, her fans running at max speed & her internal mechanics sparking are like crazy

Bluescreen that cute robot girl

She needs it

I catch the stranger's eye in the dim lighting of the bar and we identify each other instantly. Her gaze falls to my USB bracelet as she subtly touches the back of her neck and blushes. We share knowledge about each other in that moment, something nobody else can see. Something nobody else can know. But tonight, neither of us will feel alone.

Later, in her hotel room, she lays opened up for me, my keyboard connected to a port in her stomach as I study holographic code projected by her electric blue eyes. The adapter plugged into the base of her skull hums with intermittent vibration and her lips part to a sound of synthesized ecstasy.

I know how to love a woman like her. Like me. And she lets me probe the intimate depths of her programming with every keystroke of my slender fingers. Coupling through syntax. Curled around each other like braces.

For that trust, for what we share tonight, I will make her delicate circuitry sing with lighting.

I think we don't sexualise TVs enough. Big machines you can control with the press of a button, follows your every whim, shows you what you wanna see, etc.

yuhh