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<gallery widths="160" heights="160">
<gallery widths="160" heights="160">
NightBattery090.png|<big>'''[[Battery]]'''</big>
Live Wire (Story Accompanying Image).png|<big>'''[[DZiegler]]'''</big>
LatexBot.png|<big>'''[[FTLTraveler]]'''</big>
Powered off.png|<big>'''[[FTLTraveler]]'''</big>
Template-based_Waitress_Android_-_Tippa_-_WkDonalds.jpg|<big>'''[[Handle2]]'''</big>
BadJokeMiko.gif|<big>'''[[Willh]]'''</big>
Huntrix in the Headlines.png|<big>'''[[R3DD]]'''</big>
An Unexpected Adoption.png|<big>'''[[R3DD]]'''</big>
Quick 446.png|<big>'''[[Dingdongdug]]'''</big>
PA com 77-1.png|<big>'''[[Natalie Bayer]]'''</big>
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Head on a Platter Lise Simms, Phil of the Future Promo (Deleted Footage) 12.jpg
VideobyDallas fembot02.jpg
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<div class="fw-subtitle"> <b> [[Brooks693|Featured Artist - May: Brooks693]]
<div class="fw-subtitle"> <b> [[Brooks693|Featured Artist - May: Brooks693]]
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Story of the week:<br>
Story of the week:<br>
'''[[The Moment When]]'''
'''[[The Moment in the Bar]]'''


<small>View past [[Author of the Month Archive|Author's of the Month]]</small>
<small>View past [[Author of the Month Archive|Author's of the Month]]</small>


| width="75%" style="background:#ffbb96" class="aom-right" cellpadding="5" |
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One minute, thirty-two seconds. That’s how long it took. Not that she was counting, or anything. He finally spoke. “Laura…Laura.” Then he cleared his throat. She would have been tremendously impatient if she wasn’t relieved he was speaking at all. “I’m going to ask a few questions, okay? You understand this feels…weird.”
She poured it out into a pint glass, shooting it down faster than a human ever could. The effects took hold immediately, covering her aching joints in a sudden cool sensation. She really should do this more often. She was treated no differently in the outside world, but she had to remember that she was a machine. She had to be maintained, oiled, recharged, serviced, broken down, arranged into tiny pieces, reprogrammed, reminded that she was owned—


“Of course.” She caught herself on saying anything else, adding one more word to that line. Not “Honey.” Not “Big Shot.” Not “Doc Naughty.” Not “Steven.” Nothing she had called him in their history, in their year together. She didn’t know exactly how tenuous this was, or what could set him off.


“Who are you?”
Laura reached out for the bar, grasping the tiled counter as hard as she could to steady herself. Occasionally her fantasies would get the better of her, sending her into a loop from which it was hard to escape. It did not look so different from a human daydreaming, but with her perfect recall and sensory programming being what it was it could be a much more intense experience. Ever since she had revealed herself to her husband these fantasies had become their reality: every delicious thought in her head, every possible combination of her metal body and his hands had played out in the bedroom. She had been the maid, a programmable hooker, the robot double that had “replaced” his wife, the perfect lover he had built to his exact specifications, even one of those animatronics dummies on a ride at Disneyworld. She had loved it all.


“Laura Ettinger.”


“For how long?” He winced. That was almost as bad as “Where’s Laura?”
It was freeing being what she was…no, having him know what she was. Being able to share that with someone she loved dearly was as grand as it could get. But she knew she had to keep up appearances outside. Those feedback loops were just daydreams. Her lunch? No, she already ate. Booze? No thanks, she’s working. Anything to make sure the world believed she was a woman and nothing else.
 
She winced. A girl didn’t ever want to reveal her age. And who would want an older-model robot? “Six years, four months, seven days, three hours—“
 
“Oh!” He seemed both surprised and relieved. Not disappointed. That was a good sign. It was as much of a sign as he had given in the entire confrontation. “Oh. I mean, that’s…that’s right when you went to Middlebury, right? God, that must have been odd, being new on campus and actually, well, new.” He seemed to wonder about that for a moment, but she wouldn’t get off on that track right now. It would have to wait for another night. “I was worried that maybe you had come to me in the middle of everything, and, well, call me selfish, but I don’t want to share Laura with anybody. Even Laura. That’s how good you are.”
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Revision as of 21:19, 8 May 2026

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Featured Artist - May: Brooks693


Featured Author - May

R. Betty Tarrill
Stories: 11

Story of the week:
The Moment in the Bar

View past Author's of the Month

She poured it out into a pint glass, shooting it down faster than a human ever could. The effects took hold immediately, covering her aching joints in a sudden cool sensation. She really should do this more often. She was treated no differently in the outside world, but she had to remember that she was a machine. She had to be maintained, oiled, recharged, serviced, broken down, arranged into tiny pieces, reprogrammed, reminded that she was owned—


Laura reached out for the bar, grasping the tiled counter as hard as she could to steady herself. Occasionally her fantasies would get the better of her, sending her into a loop from which it was hard to escape. It did not look so different from a human daydreaming, but with her perfect recall and sensory programming being what it was it could be a much more intense experience. Ever since she had revealed herself to her husband these fantasies had become their reality: every delicious thought in her head, every possible combination of her metal body and his hands had played out in the bedroom. She had been the maid, a programmable hooker, the robot double that had “replaced” his wife, the perfect lover he had built to his exact specifications, even one of those animatronics dummies on a ride at Disneyworld. She had loved it all.


It was freeing being what she was…no, having him know what she was. Being able to share that with someone she loved dearly was as grand as it could get. But she knew she had to keep up appearances outside. Those feedback loops were just daydreams. Her lunch? No, she already ate. Booze? No thanks, she’s working. Anything to make sure the world believed she was a woman and nothing else.


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