Fembot Central (alt.sex.fetish.robots) [Stories]

Dfg

Okay, this site is actually pretty good. I might even register there.
Fembot is a site for appreciation of female robots. Yeah, I know it seems a bit weird but trust me the community is pretty lol.

They have stories,videos and pictures and even a working wiki.

A sample story:

The subway platform was crowded, as such places will inevitably be during rush hour. Millions of people lived in Metropolis, each with their own places to go and their own things to do, tracing an unimaginable, unintelligible cluster of paths through the city. A very considerable proportion of these lines converged and ran together at bus stops and subway platforms, tracing the same path along a predetermined route before branching off again in every conceivable direction.

Most of these people took little enough notice of their travelling companions, being engrossed in newspapers or books or radio broadcasts or MP3s or text messages or just their own internal preoccupations. Even those who did glance around, observing the mass of humanity, could scarcely hope to see a face they'd seen before, or one they might hope to see again.

The sounds of the subway tunnels were not deafening, but were so many and varied that they blended into a particularly impenetrable orchestra of white noise. What little could still be heard of the sounds from the open street above, wafting down the stairwell to the platform, harmonized with the rest of the instruments. Only a singularly loud or unusual sound from above might reach the ears of those massed together down here awaiting the right train.

The sound of brakes screeching a block and a half away was not loud or unusual enough to attract very much attention. Really, only one individual down here could discern that one sound amidst so many others.

No one particularly noticed when that individual reacted to the sound, though. He was only one face among the dozens, scores, hundreds, and not an especially notable one. He was tall and heavily built, but his posture and body language somewhat mitigated the effect of his size on his personal presence. He appeared like one who might have been an impressive athlete in his youth but had gone a bit doughy as a result of age and a more sedentary lifestyle. Yes, that was likely--he looked like he might now be perhaps an accountant or a mid-level office drone of some description. His mode of dress was a tad formal for a world that had embraced the concept of 'business casual'--a respectable navy-blue suit, with a white shirt and dark tie (possibly black striped with red? Who knew? The tie was exactly that unexceptional). His dark hair, slicked back in a conservative style, and his horn-rimmed glasses (perhaps the most fashionable accessory he affected--though they gave the impression of having been worn so habitually for so long that they had accidentally coincided with the latest style) added to the effect, to the idea that he was no one in particular to be noticed.

This was just as well, since his fundemental unremarkability meant that no one took any special notice when he suddenly vanished.

He hadn't simply blinked out of existence, of course; he had moved. He had simply done so far more rapidly than the eye could possibly follow. Persistence of vision was nothing to the speeds at which he had suddenly moved. Something more capable than the human eye, some kind of ultra-high-speed surveillance camera, might have caught his departure. There was no such device present here, though, and so it went completely unnoticed when he ran from the midst of the crowd toward the stairwell.

At the base of the stairwell, he had flung himself upwards, catapulting over the heads of the commuter crowd, and he hadn't come back down. In the middle of his initial arc over the teeming masses, he had begun divesting himself of his clothes, compressing them with unimaginable force into a series of small, flat parcels and stuffing them rapidly into a pouch in the red cape that unfurled itself as he stripped away his slightly ill-fitting dress shirt.

Thus, a streak of red and blue speared upwards out of the stairwell and arced back down to street level. The streak resolved itself into the form of a tall, powerfully built man in blue tights and a red cape--which now insinuated itself underneath the chassis of the late-model luxury import that had imprudently wandered past a stoplight into the midst of a busy intersection and the path of a Metropolis Transit Authority bus.

The automobile was propelled upwards, balanced on the figure's neck and shoulders, safely out of--indeed, above--the bus' path. It then sailed over the intersection, where the blue-and-red clad figure alighted on a comfortably empty expanse of street. The man gingerly deposited the vehicle, front first, onto the pavement. He stepped back to gently lower the vehicle's rear wheels.

The driver of the vehicle--a fashionably dressed young professional type--sat dumbfounded, cellular phone to his ear. He had seen the bus rushing directly at him, aware only too late of his error, and now was sitting in the clear but with no inkling as to how that had come to pass. He blinked several times in rapid succession, trying to make sense of what had happened. A disembodied voice vied for his attention from the phone's speaker.

A tap at the driver's side window cut through the young man's confusion. He glanced over, then almost automatically depressed the window control. The window whirred downwards.

"You know, City Council passed an ordinance outlawing the use of mobile phones while driving," said a clear, calm voice.

The voice belonged to the blue-and-red clad figure, who was hovering alongside the car.

"Don't worry. It's not like I can give you a ticket for it. Though a police officer could, and in all honesty should. I'm going to assume that you've learned your lesson, though, and leave it at that. Okay?"

The voice on the other end of the phone brayed for attention. The young man looked to the man hovering outside his car, then looked to the phone, then back again. He instantly snapped the phone shut and deposited it on the passenger seat. "Y-yes. Yeah, absolutely! You're right!"

The hovering figure smiled. "That's the spirit. Remember, it's not just dangerous for you--you're putting other people at risk, too."

"No, you're right! I won't answer the phone when I'm driving, I promise!"

"Glad to hear it. Drive safely now, all right?" The hovering figure winked at the driver, and then propelled himself forward and upward over the busy rush-hour traffic.

"I will, Superman! Thanks!"

Thread: http://www.fembotcentral.com/viewtopic.php?t=7887



It might be a good place to hang out.

http://www.fembotcentral.com/index.php <-- Link.