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Powered by MediaWiki 1.40.0 • 14:13 • December 19, 2024 • Users: 355 • Files: 96,357 • Pages: 113,207 • Edits: 195,154



Features New Content Editing
Gallery 01.01.23 - New Chapter: Lost in the Shuffle Article Drive
Stories 12.25.22 - New Chapter: An Unexpected Offer Help
Index of articles 12.18.22 - New Story: Illusionistic Sandbox
ASFR Master List 11.26.22 - New Story: CandyBot 007 in ‘A Spy Unraveled’ Upload Files
Commissions 11.22.22 - New Story: Sleeping Angel Recent Changes
Photo Workshop 11.18.22 - New Story: AVANT ROBOTICS GRLFRND Unused Files
Writing Workshop 11.17.22 - New Comic: Modular New Files




Featured Author - January

Karel
Stories: 5

Story of the week:
Mmmmegan

View past Author's of the Month.

Megan’s glassy eyes, formerly flat, drab, and lifeless, suddenly brightened with a surge of electricity behind them, bringing their colours into sharp relief, and began to move around in their sockets. Her lips curled up into a beaming smile, revealing rows of porcelein-white teeth, and she stood up from her seat, announcing in a sing-songy electronic voice, "Hello, Sweet-Heart!"

The earthbound spider scuttled off of her dinner plate.

Robert Tindale put down his suitcase and waved off Alda. “Hello, honey,” he called back, loosening his tie. He hated getting back late like this: Megan always had dinner ready by five sharp, and he worried about her burning the house down keeping it hot. And it looked like he would be making a habit of this next week. Maybe he should reprogram her for a delayed schedule?

Megan strolled into the back room, her wide bare feet slapping on the tiled floor. The pinky toes were missing, with chrome attachment slots in their place: Robert had somehow lost them last time she’d taken them off to wear those ridiculous stiletto heels he’d bought her. He’d had a hell of a time reprogramming her to forget about those. Little remembrances like this often impinged upon the simple pleasure of feeling her arms close around him and her lips press against his.

“Hmm,” he thought after a moment, “No tongue.” From memory, he reached down towards her lower back and keyed in two commands on the ovoid touchscreen, and then felt her lips curl up a little higher to release the soft, pink tongue behind them into his mouth.

Megan slipped it out, leaned back, blinked once as the computer in her skull switched lines of code, and mindlessly mouthed the words: "How was your day, Sweetie?"


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