The Clockwork Man

[gynoneko]

Hey all. This one is a little different. It is a more serious story I am working on hoping to turn it into an animation. It is free from adult content, although it is not a kids story really. I suppose it is more like a story anyone can enjoy, but has themes meant for an older audience.
Also, it is not about a fembot. The girl is not a sleeper. It is intended to take place in a steam punk style world. But it is about a robot, and his relationship with a girl.
Hope you all like it.


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The Clockwork Man
a short by Gynoneko

The giant factory was falling apart. Windows lay shattered, paint-chipped walls were worn away to nothingness, debris scattered the floors and hallways, and rust covered the once pristine walls. No one remembers today when the factory was built, or even when it was in use. There were few who even knew it existed at all. It had long since been forgotten by time and man, and nature had done its toll to take back what little it could. It sat silently now in the empty field, ancient graffiti covering the exterior fading away. Man had forgotten this once bustling factory. At one time, it had a bright future, a seemingly unending bout of success and progress. But that was now all long in the past, and it now sat forgotten and forlorn.
There was only one thing in all of man's creations that remembered the factory as it once was, in all its glory. He had long since been forgotten, left there in the ruins of industry to rust away with all of his kin. Ages ago, he was a tall and strong machine, doing his part to contribute to the whole. He was a key element on the advancement and success of this once glorious factory. He once stood tall and worked hard and made whatever it was they made. He had forgotten too what it was he used to do. He now lay in this ruin, decrepit and broken, falling apart with the very building he was now a part of. It had been ages since anyone called upon him. His mind was worn down, and his strength was gone. All he had to do now was sit there, and let the decay of time slowly take him away.
Hs body was broken and old. One of his eyes had been damaged years ago and no longer worked. No longer could he lift the tools he once commanded with pride. It had been years since he moved. Rust had long since invaded his body, making his joints tights and brittle. He no longer cared what happened to him, for there was no one left to care. His only comfort was the blowing wind invading the hall he resided in through holes in the wall and broken windows. Nature had come to take him and his factory back, but he knew it was going to take its time.
His mind was silent now, empty of all thought and care. He didn't hear the laughter as it grew closer. Voices faintly echoed in his hallowed halls, but he was oblivious to it. The last voices to invade his world were those of men, as broken and lost as him, centuries before. However, today the sounds of laughter and playing could be heard throughout the fields. The breeze gleefully blew through the decrepit structure, the sun playfully bounced through the halls, and children joyfully played in the tall grass outside. And yet, he was as unaware of them as the children were of him.
A sudden crash of glass and the voices died out. One of the last remaining windows had been shattered by something which rolled its way to the foot of the metallic man. He stared blankly in the same position on the ground as the ball rolled into view, resting next to a white flower. He was still seemingly unaware of anything new, but something inside him stirred for the first time in decades and slowly the voices of wind and children filled his thoughts. He had never before seen children play. He had only met one once before, so long ego, he didn't even remember what she looked like, only that she was small.
The voices started to fade away as the children ran off, but alone in his crypt he gradually became aware of the sun, the wind, and the ball that he had never seen before. He didn't know if he had the strength to lift the object, and his joints had been rusted to almost nothing as he sat motionless over the years. He opted to focus his one working eye on this new shape in his vision, and contemplate it.
Another sound echoed through the room louder than any he had heard in years. Something nearby had fallen, crashing to the ground and crushing debris. More crunching of glass and rotten wood continued after this initial clamor; something or someone had entered the building for the first time in centuries. He was slow to react to this, as he was still worn-down and out of energy. Whomever it was would surely not see him slumped over in all the waste and scrap of the past. Two small feet came into view as he stared out of his dusty scratched eye at the floor before him. This time the voice was loud and clear, and yet small and gentle. He had long since forgotten words and didn't know what she was saying. He didn't have the energy or the strength left in him to lift his head to look at his visitor. Instead, she reached down to pick up the ball that had but moments before crept into his field of vision. She was there to take it back, and now she would surely leave having found the one thing she came in there for. But instead, she looked up at his him, putting her pretty face in full view of his one good eye.
The girl was young, small, and dressed in a pretty dress with mud on it. She had been playing outside with the other children, who had since run off after they lost their ball and she decided to go in and get it. However, instead of leaving with the lost ball, she found a new curiosity. She stared up at him as he stared down at her. More small words echoed in his mind, but he knew not what they meant. He hadn't had a need to use words in more years than any man or woman could remember. He tried to move his head to look up at her, but the best he could manage was the rattle in the shell of his rusted body. Dust fell into his vision as he towered over the little child staring up at him.
Unexpectedly, she walked away, out of his limited vision, but she did not leave. He could hear her nearby, rummaging and searching through the scattered remnants of the past. He didn't know why she would want to dig through ancient artifacts of industrial waste, but she continued to explore for several more minutes. He no longer had any concept of time, a year was a short as a second to him, but these few minutes seemed longer than a decade to him. She finally returned, the same smiling face and pretty dress, covered in more dirt and mud than before. Again her delicate but clarion voice rang through the silence. She held in her hands an object of metal and rust, long and straight, bigger than her arms, but somehow familiar to him. He could no longer recall what it was, but only that he was familiar with the size and shape of the object.
The young girl struggled with the object as she brought it up to the level of her head, and brought it close to him. He didn't know what she was trying to do, and once again she partially left his field of vision as she pressed in closer to his body with the object above her head. Suddenly, he felt a sensation in his chest he hadn't recalled since before nature had taken back its land. The slow decay of time had robbed him of any memory of this sensation, and suddenly his mind and body remembered things forgotten. His arms remembered what strength was, and his rusted joints struggled to move under his new motivation.
He slowly moved his arms and lifted his head and stood up. He was surprised he remembered how to stand, although his legs had long since decayed into dust and debris, and he was unable now to walk. Rust had done a number on his body, and he knew he had to be careful moving, but it felt good to have the strength to move again. He looked down at the little girl, who seemed even smaller now that he was upright. The large key she placed in his chest and turned was still sticking out of the slot in his chest. She had wound it up, giving him a burst of energy and strength, but it would soon be gone again. He decided to enjoy it while it lasted.
He had no voice anymore, but thanked the girl with a bow. She looked up and smiled at him. He no longer needed to work on building anything, so his attention and strength was now fully devoted to the young child that gave him life again after all these years. The child held the ball up for him to look at, and he carefully lifted his hand to pick it up in his fingers. With just the one eye, he had no depth perception, and missed the ball, grasping the air a foot away from the girl. He tried again, readjusting the distance. The girl drew back her hand in pain as he pinched her arm trying to grasp the ball. He had hurt the small girl and instantly knew he had done something to hurt her.
She dropped the ball and held her hand close to her crying while he tried to apologize for his mistake with gesture she did not understand. She continued to cry, and he was unsure what to do. She stood just shy of the place he had been staring at for years, and he had a sudden idea. He lowered his hand to the ground before her, touching the soil that came through the broken concrete of the floor, and dug out the only thing that had kept his mind occupied for several years, as it continued to grow back every year. He held the solitary flower, root at all, before her, and offered it to her. Her crying stopped, and she gazed at it with wonder through her teary eyes. She took the flower from his hand, and sniffed it, before smiling again. Something inside him felt warm as he looked at her innocent smiling eyes.
Without warning, she turned around and ran off. This time, he could at least see where she ran off to, and saw her leave through a hole in the wall, disappearing into the light-filled grass on the other side. Behind, she left only the ball, which he tried again to lift, and eventually managed to pick up and contemplate as he gazed at it.
Days had gone by, and his key had long since wound down again. He was frozen in a new position, this time looking at a children's toy in his hand as his strength and energy drained from his body. His mind once again unfocused and he lost all concept of time and thought. He remained there, through rain and sun, waiting for the day the girl would return.
He awoke again to the sensation of strength returning to his body, and a small girl wearing a different pretty dress turning the key in his chest. She had returned, and greeted him with a smile and a giggle. He didn't had a mouth to smile with, and no voice to laugh, but had he been blessed with these gifts, he would have returned her greeting in kind. In her hands, she held more toys, toys that looked like little people.
She spent several hours with him that day. She would let him look at her dolls, but wouldn't let him touch them unless they were on the ground. Together, they played with these tiny toys. From the debris around him, he fashioned a small house which he bent into shape for the toys to live in as they played, and she stared in amazement at his creation. He had that warm feeling inside him again as he played with her, and her voice and laughter filled the empty cavities of the factory filling him with joy. He hadn't felt joy since he was young and accomplished. Now in his ancient days, he found happiness in the smallest of things.
That day, she took her dolls home with her, but left him a picture she drew of him in crayon. He had no concept of artistic talent or aesthetics, but to him it was the most beautiful gift he ever received. He spent the rest of the time he had as he ran down studying the picture, etching it in his memory. The girl fully occupied his mind as he admired the picture before him, dangling from the roof of the small metal house he built her.
He didn't not have to wait as long this time for the girl to return. She came again with more toys, and more pictures, and more laughter. He gladly played with her for hours that day, and the next, and the day after that. She returned to see him regularly, bringing him something new each time. He in turn would play with her, and make something new, often from what little he could remember of his past, out of the scrap that surrounded him. They were happy days for them both, and he cherished the moments he spent with her as much as he could, knowing they were not to last.
Weeks passed, then months. She had stopped coming to see him as often, but she would always make sure to spend some time playing with her secret friend. She would never go more than a week without visiting him, and would sometimes spend hours with him on end talking and playing. A year had passed since the ball he still kept nearby rolled into his life, and she along with it. He saw her growing older, maturing, and changing with time. He didn't know how long it had been, or how long it would last, but for the first time in hundreds of years, he was happy.
As she visited him, her methods of play changed along with her appearance. Not only was she taller and shaped differently, wearing different dresses and outfits, but she stopped playing with dolls and toy tea sets. She surprised him one day when she came to him, still very young, holding a set of tools in her hand, instead of a doll.
She gestured for him to lean down, and she gently took his metallic face in her soft warm hands, and started tinkering with a tool. He couldn't see what she was doing, but before long, vision in his other eye returned, and he now clearly saw her with both eyes for the first time, and saw how beautiful she had become. She cleaned up his other eye too, removing the scratches and dust of time, allowing him to see clearly once again. If he had tear ducts, he would have been using them. Once again, she held the ball up for him to look at, and carefully, he picked it up from her hand, He set the ball aside, and picked up more discarded metal around him, and started to twist and shape the scraps into something more complicated and precise than any she had seen him do before. As he had done the first day he met her, he presented to her a flower, this time expertly crated from metal before her very eyes. He was surprised when she hugged him crying, and he returned the gesture careful not to hurt her this time.
The rest of her visits to him consisted of talks, a few games, and a lot of repair. As she started to grow into a young woman, she started to repair his body, removing the rust and damage of the years of neglect, giving him the chance to move once again. She was still but a child, but she was smart and enthusiastic. Every day she visited, she would wind the key in his chest, and bring him back to life. He knew she was getting older, and would one day grow up. She was not a child anymore, but she was not yet an adult. She was about to enter that time of her life when other things mattered more to her, such as boys. He knew it was coming, but he didn't care. He had her now, and that made him happy.
As he suspected, years had gone by, and she visited him less frequently. He was saddened to not be seeing her as much, but always glad to see her when she did. It seemed like she grew from a girl to a young lady in mere minutes, and yet each visit would last a lifetime. He understood little of what she said, but he knew when she was upset and wanted someone to listen, and when she was excited and wanted to share something with him. He was there for her whenever she needed it, and he was glad. However, it was not to last.
She never visited him at night, and rarely in bad weather since the old factory offered little-to-no protection from the elements, which is why he was so surprised one stormy night when he felt his key turn, waking him from his frozen slumber. She carried a lamp and wore a jacket over the kind of dress adults wear, which was the first time he'd seen her in one. She carried an umbrella and but her face was soaking wet. She was crying, and needed her oldest friend to comfort her. He held her as she hugged him, but he had no warmth to give her. His body was only cold metal, and was still rusting and worn from use despite her many attempted repairs. But that didn't seem to matter to her. She found comfort in his embrace, and sobbed while she spoke. He did his best to understand her, but the only thing he knew for sure was that she needed him to be there for her. Her dress was torn and she looked more upset than he had ever seen her, and took the umbrella from her and held it over her as the rain started to beat heavily down upon them.
He didn't mind the rain, except when it made him rust, but he was already so full of rust there was little more the rain could do to him now. He wiped a tear from her eye, and she sat next to him talking by the light of the lantern as the winds picked up, howling through the forsaken halls. Lightning struck in the distance, and the roll of thunder echoed through the fields. She sat closer to him, pulling the jacket tighter around her as she vented out her frustrations.
Despite the ever increasing intensity of the storm, she somehow grew calmer as she spoke. He, on the other hand, grew more concerned. The storm was getting worse, the winds were picking up, and the lighting and thunder was getting closer and louder. She felt safe with him, but he knew that she could not be near him in such a storm. He had never been struck by lightning before, but he was a giant metal conduit holding up an umbrella; it was much too dangerous for her to sit with him. He tried to push her away, but she refused to move. He looked around frantically at the storm, and did his best to convince her to leave. She wouldn't budge, so he had to resort to something he was afraid he'd regret doing, but it was for her own sake.
Lifting her up, he moved her away from him and pushed her away enough to make her fall over. He didn't mean to hurt her, but he was more concerned about the dangers of the storm, and deemed it necessary. She got back to her feet and glared at him, yelling at him over the howling wind and creaking wood and metal of the factory, tears and rain running down her face.
The lightning strike did not hit him as he expected it to. It struck the building, not far from where they stood, and splintered a wooden support beam weakened with age and nature. Fire broke out, and it spread quickly. The girl fell in place from the shock of the blast, and from his perspective, she was in grave danger. Wood moaned and creaked under pressure from the failing support beam, and the fire rapidly grew to engulf the ceiling above her. It was all about to come down on top of her.
He didn't think about what to do, he just acted. Without legs, he couldn't run to her aid, so he threw himself over with all his strength next to her, and braced for the impact. Screaming filled his thoughts as the entire ceiling came tumbling down moments later, and he struggled against the awesome weight with all the strength he had left. He found he had more than he realized, but knew the strain was going to tear him apart. He managed to keep it off of her so far but the heat of the fire was growing intense and his strength was beginning to fail him. She had grown silent from the shock of the event, and froze in fear.
There was nothing else for him to do. He grabbed the girl and threw her with the last of his strength out of the way toward the hole in the wall, where she tumbled out of the failing building and onto the wet muddy ground outside. It was finished. He could not longer keep up his herculean effort, and the building collapsed on top of him, crushing his decaying body. The last thing he saw before everything went black was the girl bawling uncontrollably trying to reach out for him but unable to get closer due to the fire. He reached out to her when another ton of burning debris smashed against him, crushing him and ending the time he would be spending with the young girl. At least she was safe, at least she got away.

He suddenly became aware of a sensation in his chest, something he hadn't felt in years. Strength, vigor, and life returned to him, but like never before. He opened his eyes to find himself in a strange place, staring up at a ceiling. A face came into view, a face familiar, but different. He knew who she was. The little girl who played with him all those years ago now stood over him, looking down on him, but now as a woman. She was no longer the young girl who played dolls with him, or the young lady who sought comfort from her secret friend when she had trouble with a boy. She was now an adult, mature, and beautiful. He almost didn't recognize her, but for the same look in her smiling eyes.
The old factory was gone. It burned down along with the last of its history and memories. No one knew it was ever there and no one would miss it, except for one little girl who was not so little anymore. She salvaged what she could of him from the debris after the fire, but he was so damaged that there was nothing she or anyone else could do to repair him. However, she never lost faith. It took years of study and hard work, but she had finally done the impossible. She brought back to life the only person she ever loved, for the second time.
As he looked around the lab where he lay, he saw a small white flower in a pot, and recognized it immediately as the one he had given to her all those years ago. Next to it lay the metal flower he fashioned years later. He also noticed he was no longer the delicate monstrosity he once was. His body was new, free of rust and wear, and more human in shape than he was before. Within his chest, he no longer saw the giant metal key she once wound him with. Instead there was a mechanical heart of gears and springs keeping him wound. He marveled at his new body, but all his attention went back to the woman who sat next to him as she leaned over him again.
"Sorry to keep you waiting" she said, as she leaned in and kissed him.

The end

[gynoneko]

Why was this moved to off topic?
The topic was stories, and that is what this is. I thought ASFR was about R.. robots. And while it isn't an S or F story, it still caters to the same group.
Just don't tell me you moved it cause it doesn't have fembots in it. It does have robots, and we have had a growing number of female members who expressed interest in male androids just as we do with female gynoids.

[--NightBattery--]

very neat, full of light.

[--NightBattery--]

Why was this moved to off topic?
The topic was stories, and that is what this is. I thought ASFR was about R.. robots. And while it isn't an S or F story, it still caters to the same group.
Just don't tell me you moved it cause it doesn't have fembots in it. It does have robots, and we have had a growing number of female members who expressed interest in male androids just as we do with female gynoids.

and then robotman answers....

[gynoneko]

Well I just got caught up in the forums, (sorry, been busy), and read that there is a new "Mandroid" forum out there by Shiro-chan (is that right?).
I'll probably repost this story there, but this story is really for anyone that is into robots in general (not necessarily sexually), and so a lot of people can appreciate it, and I will leave it up here too.