SEXY ROBOT MONTH 1.0: “Sexy Robot A Go-Go 5000, or Safe Sex” by Elise R.

Readers Write

Once upon a time, Heather and I were like, “We’re going to drop this mad science fiction issue!” and one of our Twitter followers was like, “I hope there are sexy robots!” and Heather and I were like:

pants down

Fortunately, this selfsame reader, the inimitable Elise R., boldly accepted our challenge to help make right this terrible wrong, and so it is my great pleasure to present the first installation of SEXY ROBOT MONTH, “Sexy Robot A Go-Go 5000, or Safe Sex.”

“Sexy Robot A-Go-Go 5,000” or “Safe Sex”

by Elise R.

“Hey Jim, that’s one sexy robot!” A voice called down from the metal catwalk overhanging the lab.

Jim pushed back a hank of hair from his sweaty forehead and exhaled a sigh of exhaustion as he set a wrench down on his workbench. He gazed above at his TA from the massive concrete floor of the lab. “Thanks Leroy, I’m glad someone thinks she’s sexy. All I can see at this point is the hours of work still ahead of me. At this rate, I’ll never finish in time for my Sexy Robotics final exam!”

“She looks pretty good to me. What’s the problem?”

‘Her facade and female simulation are perfect but there’s some sort of weird bug in the Personality Core. I can’t find anything about it in your notes I borrowed either.”

Leroy lightly bounded down the catwalk stairs to the floor of the lab. “Well, why don’t you fire her up? I’ll see if I can troubleshoot!”

Jim slid aside the lucite panel in the robot’s mid-section that protected the glowing personhood modem and lightly sunk his fingertip into the soft plasticine gel to activate the awareness sector.

The robot gasped as she started into consciousness. It was an act programmed in the boilerplate code, but it always unsettling to Jim in its similarity to how his mother used to look when he would wake her up from her nap so she could get started on dinner.

The robot breathed again, this time in an earthy rapturous sigh. “Oh heeeelllloooo Jim, I’m so glad to see you.” Her fingertips lightly tapped the surface of the workbench, leaving tiny dimpled impressions in the galvanized steel surface.

Jim spoke into his pocket recorder. “Trial 27 on Final Project SR 101, Personality Core.” He then turned towards the robot, gently stroking up her arm in a purposeful manner “Now activating personality type, Innocent K-1.”

The robot shivered with pleasure, her movement loosening the rivets holding the steel bench to the lab floor. “Oooh, that feels good, Jim.”

Jim gestured quickly to the personhood modem at the pulsing orange light in the upper right hand of the cavity “See, look at that! And it’s supposed to be in Innocent mode!”

The robot arched her back and gave a low moan as she whispered “Jim, can’t we be alone right now, there are so many things I want us to do right now…sex things, Jim.”

Leroy cleared his throat and said “Welp, it’s not following the Innocent K-1 program, but the main… parts seem to be in order, I can’t see how Professor McCoy can count you off too much for personality in an intro class.”

Jim sighed and said, “That’s only part of it, watch this.”

Jim then leaned into the robot and murmured into its ear while sliding his hand up its inner thigh, “Okay, sweetheart, let’s get started, Level 3 Innocent K-1.”

The robot immediately screamed “JIM! BEFORE MARRIAGE!!!???” Her powerful metal infused arms ripped his lab coat off of his body in shreds and she attempted to cover her sumptuous silicon-coated bosom with the remnants. Jim was thrown backwards from the momentum, his head bouncing off the concrete floor.

“HOLY SHIT!” screamed Leroy.

Jim groaned and dusted himself off as he walked over to pull a fresh lab coat out of the locker. He felt like an average schlub without it. “Yeah, that’s the problem.”

Leroy furrowed his brow, “What about her other personality types?”

Jim sighed again. “Go ahead, be my guest.”

Leroy moved forward and lightly stroked the robot arm again saying, “Now activating personality type Dominatrix L-2.”

Just as Jim started to scream out “No!” the robot lurched forward, ripped Leroy’s arm out of his socket and firmly spanked him on the behind with his detached arm.

“You’ve been soooo naughty,” she chirped as Jim screamed over and over again in horror.

Leroy slumped over onto the floor, his intact arm clutching at the newly made stump.

Jim, numb from the shock, looked at the robot with wide eyes as the robot picked up a metal chain from the workbench and lightly flicked it as if it were a riding crop. The end of the chain zoomed past Jim’s ear and felt relief at the near miss. He didn’t even notice the crowbar until it was too late. Just before the end, he managed to complete the thought, “We should have just bought porn.”
The image of the sexy robot arm swinging a crowbar down across the screen freezes as the voice of an elderly Liam Payne precedes the distinguished looking gentleman who walks into the shot. “This has been very special episode Jim-boy and Leroy’s Robot Adventures. As robotics advance and we approach singularity, one truth remains about mankind. Whatever we create, whatever we innovate; we want to have sex with it. While this is understandable, nay ADMIRABLE, we must also consider safety. If you create a 500 lb metal android and try to have sex with it, things can go wrong. Think safe. Act safe. Always activate the safety switch on your robotic sex android. Jim-boy and Leroy sure wish they did. God bless.”

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Elise writes about ’90s era Christian romance novels with her sister at http://undertherjg.blogspot.com. It gets pretty weird. Follow her on Twitter at @im_not_it

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Want to share a sexy robot story, poem or essay? E-mail your work to broadzine[at]gmail[dot]com with the subject line SEXY ROBOTS. (Now through July 31 only.)

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Special Call for Subs (July only): SEXY ROBOTS

Readers Write

svedka-unsexy-robotDear Broads:

IMPORTANT ORDER OF BUSINESS #1: Our sci-fi issue is in the final stages of layout, and it is speculative-tacular. We’re talking lesbian apocalypses, disenfranchised worker classes on spaceships, dream experiments, and a temp job that will make your nails curl. So stay tuned for the launch in early July.

IMPORTANT ORDER OF BUSINESS #2: One of our Twitter followers pointed out that we had somehow failed to include any sexy robot pieces in the issue. To make up for this gross oversight, we’re declaring:

JULY IS SEXY ROBOT MONTH

For the month of July only, we’ll be featuring sexy robot writings on our website–microessays on Ex Machina, HAL 9000 slashfics, sonnets to Number 6. Be campy. Be sexy. Be the future.

Send your stories, art and poems to broadzine[at]gmail[dot]com with the subject line SEXY ROBOTS, now through July 31.

Note: Sexy Robots submissions are open to folks of all genders, because love wins, y’all.

image credit: ink361.com

image credit: ink361.com

(Side note: as always, Broad! is averse to the glorification of sexual violence against of any and all genders. Feel free to reach out with questions.)

Readers Write for September

Readers Write

 

UPDATE: The deadline for this contest has been extended to September 30. Extra time to write something on the theme alchemy and send it to us!

 

Good morning, Gentleladies!  We’re back on the blog after a hectic summer in which two of us moved to new cities and one of us completed a super-smart course load for smartypants. Post Labor Day, I’m feeling like it’s time to get back in the writing game. So here is a Reader’s Write contest for you: up to 500 words in any genre, and the theme is alchemy. The deadline is September 24. Update: The new deadline is September 30. The winning entry will be posted on the blog. Email your entry as an attachment (.doc, .docx, or .pdf) to broadzine@gmail.com with the subject line “Readers Write”.

Also, for your brain, a definition of alchemy from good old Merriam-Webster:

Definition of ALCHEMY

1: a medieval chemical science and speculative philosophy aiming to achieve the transmutation of the base metals into gold, the discovery of a universal cure for disease, and the discovery of a means of indefinitely prolonging life
2: a power or process of transforming something common into something special
3: an inexplicable or mysterious transmuting
— al·chem·i·cal  also al·chem·ic  adjective
— al·chem·i·cal·ly  adverb

Examples of ALCHEMY

  1. She practiced her alchemy in the kitchen, turning a pile of vegetables into a delicious salad.
  2. The company hoped for some sort of economic alchemythat would improve business.

Origin of ALCHEMY

Middle English alkamie, alquemie, from Middle French or Medieval Latin; Middle French alkimie, from Medieval Latinalchymia, from Arabic al-kīmiyā’, from al the + kīmiyā’alchemy, from Late Greek chēmeia

First Known Use: 14th century

September Readers Write Recap:
Theme – alchemy
Length – up to 500 words
Genre – any
Deadline – Tuesday, September 24   Monday, September 30
Submit here – broadzine@gmail.com, subject line “Readers Write”, entry in .doc/.docx/.pdf attachment
Open to – EVERYONE, regardless of gender or sex
Prize – your words on our blog!

April 2013: Doors

Readers Write

Picture 6

The winner of April’s door-themed readers write challenge is Jenny Lapekas with her entry titled “Long Stay”. Congratulations, Jenny, and thank you to everyone who submitted!

LONG STAY

by Jenny Lapekas

My father begins in the middle of the lot, close to the hangar. He is thorough as he scans the cars in one sweep of his oval eyes. The blue sign seems to sigh from boredom: LONG STAY CAR PARKING. A man’s black Bentley sits dazed, bugs still springing within the vehicle’s frame. This man is a stockbroker who will never know my father’s hand has opened his German-made door. My father’s fingertips are soft pads from years of swimming in chlorine and murky springs, orange shorts and shiny whistle wavering above mud and clay, in search of lost swimmers who have become aquatic corpses haunting the dark waves. These are the same hands that look like maps to me, interstates and turnpikes scattered between cornfields and water, a confusing sort of math.

By the time the man recalls his error, he will resent the ground that passed beneath him.  As he sits at a press conference overseas, he has no idea that my father, the man who collected train sets as a boy, has flicked a simple plastic switch and watched the car’s headlights died down. In my mind, my father sits in his Chicago home, a small boy, crashing his toys together and waving to me from a bright red caboose. The man will return to his hotel and never discover that because of my father, his car will start the first time the jagged key turns, and he will return safely to his family.

My father steps out of the car door, one shiny loafer at a time, positions his captain’s hat, so brave, so pronounced, straight and tight around his head. The golden wings glisten on his lapel as he tosses his heavy coat over his arm and straightens his frame. His tie, the one with small globes and smiley faces on it, escapes from his black jacket and flaps in the warm breeze. My father searches for more twin lights begging his attention. These are the headlights others so carelessly, so humanly, forgot to turn off.

March 2013: “Clean”

Readers Write

Picture 6Here’s the winner of our Readers Write column for March, for which the theme was “clean.” Amber Shockley, thank you for submitting this poem.

 

Swab
Amber Shockley

Believe me,
I would scour my whole body
if I thought clean would become a curse
I could live with. No more dirty soles
or skin collected beneath the nails.
No dust, no dander – a wonder,
the bleached, plucked skin. I would
do this. Believe me?
Like Jesus’ flesh refined to a whisper
of thin wafer, blood juiced down to
a pierced grape’s single tear. Instead I
Repent, Repent – Rinse, repeat.
Slough and pumice.
I soap my breasts and sex,
fingers collect the feel of hair,
moles, send them to my brain’s sensors.
I recountcant some sin.
Somesintimes I nibble the pink
oval of glycerin, sulfate in my hand.
Sometimes I press the wash rag in
my open eyes, so they sting.
I wonder how I got so dirty,
a girl who made it her life’s journey to stay
kind and clean.