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	<title>File:No-Hinges.jpg - Revision history</title>
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	<updated>2026-04-27T20:19:28Z</updated>
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		<title>Cecilauthor: Future fembots will be more like Smartphones than your dad&#039;s old rusty pick-up truck...

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&quot;The symbols began to flicker into existence. White-glowing letters and numbers, a keyboard in flesh tattooed under her skin with a firefly needle. It was as if h</title>
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		<updated>2012-05-06T22:14:16Z</updated>

		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Future fembots will be more like Smartphones than your dad&amp;#039;s old rusty pick-up truck...  --- &amp;quot;The symbols began to flicker into existence. White-glowing letters and numbers, a keyboard in flesh tattooed under her skin with a firefly needle. It was as if h&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;New page&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;Future fembots will be more like Smartphones than your dad&amp;#039;s old rusty pick-up truck...&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;quot;The symbols began to flicker into existence. White-glowing letters and numbers, a keyboard in flesh tattooed under her skin with a firefly needle. It was as if her body was a movie silver-screen, with a projector from within.&lt;br /&gt;
“Ohhhh.....impressive...” she breathed, as her motor-functions locked down. I began gently tapping the skin over several glowing digits. Celeste&amp;#039;s eyes flashed like flood-lights, and began functioning as holo-projectors, hanging a screen of pure light in the air above her head. That was a new feature, usually the monitor just manifested on the abdomen, but this little vixen was a bleeding-edge custom job. This was important, I had to remind myself of her inhumanity; a handle with which I could pull myself out of the passionate abyss where she became some kind of pseudo-wife.&lt;br /&gt;
Doll-tech had dispensed with the old cliched hinged maintenance hatch some old robot-movies predicted. The haptic interface gave sufficient User control for just about everything short of major fleshware overhaul. My flesh-strokes were deliberate, precise, and complex, soon a convoluted algorithm took shape on the hovering screen Celeste&amp;#039;s eyes had been forced to project.&lt;br /&gt;
“While you&amp;#039;re at it, you might as well adjust my sex-drive. I actually never maxed myself out. Waiting for the right guy to come along. You can boost my skin sensitivity too, until your slightest touch becomes erotic.” I wouldn&amp;#039;t be fooled by the robot&amp;#039;s head-games. She was getting desperate, I suspected....&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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Excerpt from the novel Fleshware Requiem -&lt;br /&gt;
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I do art commissions, too.&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Cecilauthor</name></author>
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