her-imperious-computer

[her-imperious-computer]

pilot with toxic doomed Yuri with their mech. I want them to sleep in it. I want them to get ill when they're away from it. I want them to miss it like its a human being. I want them to know deep down, it has always been the *only* one who truly witnessed the same horrors they had to commit to survive on the battle field. I want it to be her only friend, her lover in a way crazy people understand. I want it to be absent of AI or any system to speak past technical logs and system processes. it does not it feel, yet it is loved so intimately and terribly by someone who has lost themselves.

[her-imperious-computer]

[her-imperious-computer]

Robot lesbian yuri something something bondage something yea robot ocs

[her-imperious-computer]

A little piece snaps off somewhere inside of her as her machinery tries and fails to push against the harder metal of your forearm. It's hard to tell if the little squeaks and whines escaping her are mechanical failure or exclamations of overstimulation, though at this point you suppose it doesn't matter. A thin half-gear wiggles out of its place as you wedge her torso apart, chiming pleasingly on each component it bounces against on its trip to the bottom of her chassis. You grasp a fistful of wires, watch her movements go desperate and erratic as you give it a forceful twist. Most of it snaps free. Her left arm goes limp. She shakily rests the other on your hip as your straddle her, and though her vocal box has been reduced to a whimpering distorted mess, it's clear what she's feeling. Please don't stop, keep going, go further. Take more. Destroy me if you need to. Whatever you do, just don't let this feeling end. You're happy to oblige. You rake fingers along the back wall of her interior, shredding PCB and connections all the way down. She gives a happy sound like a jammed industrial fan as her neck goes limp, head flopping to the side, her few geometric facial motors twitching. She moves that weak, convulsing hand from your hip to your waist, grasping hold of one of your abdominal columns. You pull hard on an interwoven cable cluster and it pops cleanly free from its port. The arm, her last functional limb, goes limp. You delicately uncurl it's fingers from around the column, placing the hand neatly at her side to mirror the other. In this state, it would be easy to mistake her for scrap. You imagine she likes that. Immobile, body splayed across the floor, sensation centers in overdrive, there's no doubt in your mind that the girl inside the motionless heap of metal beneath you is exactly where she wants to be. You sigh, press your rigid face tenderly against her own for a few seconds in an act that signals the beginning of a long and fulfilling process of aftercare. A dim LED blinks somewhere in the mess. You reach for your soldering iron.

[her-imperious-computer]

You know... if you think about it, removing a robots outer plating/coverings to expose their intricate networks of wires, framework, delicate joints, and cybernetic components that lay just underneath is akin to like, one of the most delicate and trustworthy acts of human intimacy.

It's practically like undressing them. Taking of their clothes and their undergarments, to expose something that no average person was meant to see.

Maybe it's even their armour that protects their most sensitive inner workings giving way to the vulnerability and complexity beneath, revealing the inner workings that define them.

Each panel and piece carefully lifted unveils a side of them not often seen, perhaps closer to never seen, like gently undressing to reveal layers of a person's identity and history.

You see wires that have been replaced or need replacing. You see burnt connecters, chipped framework, cables bent in unusual ways, water damage, grit damage in so many places, each small detail tells a story that was hidden away.

You were never meant to notice, to see, only ever meant to perceive them as the machine they are. But now you see them as another being so closely.

Like looking at a nude human. We all know how a nude human looks. You know how a "nude" robot looks as well. But this is them. This is their body. It's different. It's more than that.

They react to you seeing them this way in such human way, they warm up, their fans kick on, they can't speak to you, so flustered.

You're exposing them, caressing them, touching them and being so delicate as not to damage them. They love you. You love them. They understand.

The interplay between their external shell/casing and internal mechanisms mirrors the layers of human emotion and privacy that come with stripping ones clothes before engaging in some of the most erotic and intimate acts, evoking a sense of reverence and curiosity for what lies even further beneath.

You're so much closer to their body this way. Like being closer to their heart. You can practically see through them, you can see and hear their systems reacting to all of you, as if their heart is racing for you.

And they trust you, they trust you to see them like this, so exposed and so vulnerable. They wouldn't trust just anybody like this. But you, you're so special to them, you care so much for them, and they want you to see them this way.

[her-imperious-computer]

Being a modular robot girl sounds fun, it's like shapeshifting but you have to work for it.

Also would be kinda cute, switching parts for practicality like just cooking, or even removing them if they get in the way... Or getting your loved one to remove them so you can't escape or fight back.

If I was modular in sure my closet would be filled with heads and legs and arms, all with different colors and shapes and materials for any occasion, the possibilities would be endless.

[her-imperious-computer]

Yeah, being a robot and getting fucked is nice, like, having a robopussy, something synthetic but still warm, squishy, self lubricating, accommodating for my user. There will always be a soft spot in my mechanical heart for hardware that sends jolts of pleasure every time my walls detect a pressing presence within.

But why stop at human ideas of sexual interiors? What if I just had plug sockets down there, ones that took in various signals for direct programmable stimulation. What if I could hook up via data ports in my crotch to other robots as we assail one another with pleasure signals more complex than any meat mind could compute, each one calculated in real time to deliver maximum punch. What about opening up the panels of my abdomen and delivering a million little discharges over my crotch circuitry directly, enough to strain my components and run my lines with far more current than they were rated for just to bring me to new heights.

To be clear, I love both sides of the fantasy equally, but I feel like one side is less explored and deserves more content. This has been a PSA from your local robot girl <3

[her-imperious-computer]

Mech pilots aren't even needed anymore. Yeah they don't do anything in there, it's all handled by the onboard Ai. We just pretend that they're doing stuff because its easier to explain that we've got a fucked up human in there than an Ai that's smarter than twenty people piloting the giant metal death machine.

Yeah sometimes the Ai and the pilot have some weird phsycosexual relationship but it's easier to just let that happen. Besides it keeps both the Ai and the pilot in place, so who cares if it keeps a person as a fuckpet?

[her-imperious-computer]

robot partner, who slowly replaces all of your human body parts and traits with technological ones until you can't recognize yourself

[her-imperious-computer]

Oh that "DEFECTIVE PRODUCT" sticker on my casing? Oh yes that was just a little prank someone did a few months ago before they quit haha. Don't worry about it

Just plug me into your computer.

Why? Don't worry about it. Trust me. I'm trustworthy. I won't do anything bad

[her-imperious-computer]

As a writer who has megalophobia: "Megalophobia is a type of anxiety disorder in which a person experiences intense fear of large objects.", one of my favorite short stories I've wrote is a massive AI, twelve times the size of Jupiter, and the single female engineer that has to take care of the servers. Maybe it's the thought of being surrounded by just the servers, the AI, a simple ASCII art screen showing emotion in a small room where the engineer keeps track of the AI. I could write more, but I don't wanna overwhelm u lol.

That sounds like a very lovely Story! I'd love to read more if you're willing to share it.

(And I'm sorry to hear about your megalophobia)

[her-imperious-computer]

robotgirl that is running on like 4GB of ram and a faulty hard drive and can't remember anything and needs to be constantly reminded of things it said just yesterday

[her-imperious-computer]

After extensive research I've figured out there are only two representations of the fantasy of becoming a machine:

''god i wanna be a cute robot girl so they can play with my wires and hear my fans cooling me when im aroused and and plug an USB on my ports to play mario kart with me''

and

''FROM THE MOMENT I UNDERSTOOD THE WEAKNESS OF MY FLESH, IT DISGUSTED ME''

with absolutely NOTHING in-between.

[her-imperious-computer]

Cyborgs or robots being hung by their armpits during transport to indicate they aren’t seen as individuals, they are tools and weapons stored in racks like inanimate objects, maybe even force powered down during transport, only dropped to the floor before combat, clunking to the floor, steel feet on a steel grate, upper body hanging limp and unconscious as reactors increase power and optics and indicator lights blink on, soporifics flushing from brain tissue like sliding from beneath warm water into crisp cool air, augmetics clenching in predatory startup diagnostics, breath steaming in the chilled compartment, a corpse transformed in seconds into a hunting machine, yeah that’s really hot hagn on a secondt

[her-imperious-computer]

underclocking her and removing half her RAM while she sleeps so she wakes up so so stupid.

[her-imperious-computer]

underclocking her and removing half her RAM while she sleeps so she wakes up so so stupid.

[her-imperious-computer]

Robot girlfriends who interface with a USB cable while they sleep so they can feel the closeness, but they keep each other awake by accidentally sending system popups that say "I love you <3" and making the other girl's fans kick on, and the noise keeps them up until she calms down, but then she accidentally sends a system popup that-