Market Commodity - Recycled

Category: Transformers > G1 > Round Robins
Dragon prints: 1419
Disclaimer: Do not own Transformers, Hasbro holds all rights - author is not making a dime off of this fanfic

**Do not own Transformers – Hasbro holds all the rights**

Auction Treasures – Part 1

G1 clone universe/written by stSE

Note: Been a long time since I’ve gotten a muse. Been reading through all of my and other author’s clone stories lately. Ended up with a muse – thanks everyone! This new round robin is a spin off of my original Market Commodity. But this time – we’re seeing what life is like on the ‘pre-owned’ clone market.

Setting: 8+ years after the Autobots began selling mini clones - But before any calamities hit. Now there is a big used clone market for those buyers that aren’t rich.


“Hey, how’ve you’ve been?” Shelda asked as she plopped herself down on the hard bench next to her old friend Dawn. Dawn had always looked younger than her years, but since her husband died – she had seemed to age 20 years overnight!

Dawn shrugged, “Making it” she replied without much emotion.  She pushed a graying lock behind an ear while she scooted the saddle pad further under her butt in an attempt to make the hard bench somewhat comfortable.

“The kids visiting much?”  her friend inquired.

“Eli calls most evenings. But she’s stationed in Hawaii and preparing to go out to sea again.” Dawn met her friend’s eyes briefly and gave a sarcastic grin, “hard for her to visit.”

“So your stepsons don’t call much then?” Shelda stated more than asked.

“Never was close to them. Wouldn’t let me,” the short woman replied with a sigh. “At least they’ve both done something with their lives now. I send birthday cards and stuff.”

They sat there for a little while in silence, watching the action in the ring as goats and chickens were auctioned off.

“You know…” Shelda began as a thought drifted through her mind, “There’s one of those droid things that’s gonna be auctioned with the tack tonight. Might be good for you to have a strong back around the farm.”

Dawn chuckled, “Can’t afford one of those things, and plus, what would it look like to everyone – you know?” she shot her friend a side glance.

“He’s one of those construction droids. They don’t have that programming. Everyone knows that!” Shelda laughed as she patted her friend’s shoulder. “At least go LOOK at the thing. He’s helping to unload the stock. So at least he’s been around horses.”

Snorting a bit, Dawn stood up. “Ok, got to browse the horses anyways….” With that, she wandered off as Shelda moved to save her now padded seat.


The Scrapper clone took in everything around him even as he helped control the wild stud they were unloading from the trailer. The horse traders moved back, allowing the clone to take all the risk as the thin stallion came after him with teeth bared and hooves ready to paw him down. In a flash, the Constructicon clone came up under the horse’s head and wrapped an arm over his neck right behind his ears – at the same time getting a twitch on his nose. Suddenly, the stallion found himself at the clone’s mercy as his lip was painfully twisted. Still snorting and stomping in displeasure, he went where the metal thing forced him to go.

“See, he’d be very valuable to a farm!” the trader named Devon told a group of potential bidders as they watched the clone’s performance.  “Sure, he looks beat up – but a good paint job is all he needs..”

The Scrapper clone listened in as he walked by to assist the next trailer backing in. He bit back his urge to correct his current master on the truth of his mechanical condition. He’d learned that these traders had no concern for information like that, and to speak of it would eliminate some buyers – which was a bad thing to do. Did it really matter anyways – as he scanned the small crowd gawking at him. He’d been swapped and sold so many times since his warranty had expired – that he wished he’d lost count. Ok, it stood at twenty now. He’d had twenty owners in the last two years. And five of those in just the last three weeks as he was taken to auction after auction.

Carefully, he led the next frightened horse by his current master. In truth, he was just as scared as these animals. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t understand why he’d fallen into this situation. But it was his lot in life now. To work his aft off for his temporary masters – only to be traded off again. No matter how hard he worked – this was his reward.

As he tied up this horse, a tiny woman came up beside him. “Would you hold her head for a moment?” she asked as she looked up at him through scratched glasses.

“Yes, ma-am” he replied with no emotion.  Putting a strong hand on the mare’s halter he held her while the woman checked her teeth to judge her age.

The woman coo’d at the mare first, calming her down.  “Poor thing, you’re just a baby,” she whispered to the horse as she rubbed her neck.

“Do you require further assistance?” the droid asked politely, still holding the halter.

Running her hands down a leg, the little woman lifted a hoof. Clucking her displeasure at the fact the mare hadn’t been well maintained in a long time. “Can you believe people do this to a three year old?” She walked around, checking all of the horse’s legs.

Since she hadn’t exactly answered his question – but had seemed to ask him one in return, the clone stood there unmoving. “The owner said she was five and broke,” he replied.

The woman chuckled and patted him on the arm before setting it up on the mare’s withers. “If I’d had a dollar for everytime someone told a white lie here – I’d be rich!” she glanced up at him with amusement in her eyes. “So what white lies will we be told about you? Hmmmm?”

He looked down at her, understanding that she was well aware that he probably could not tell her even if he wanted to. “My owner is honest,” he stated.

“Figured you’d say that. Just tell me yes or no to the following questions: one – are you fully sound? Two – are you sound enough to do the job of a farm manager? Three – do you desire a permanent home? Four – can all of your damage be repaired for under two thousand dollars?” she winked at him as she asked the last question.

Although it would probably come to nothing – the clone scanned the potential buyer. She was tiny, standing less than five feet tall. Her light hair streaked with gray – but styled nicely. Her clothing was fresh and clean – unlike many other humans that attended these auctions. Though in truth, it was her eyes and words that bespoke of intellect. And perhaps an intelligent owner would actually value his hard work? He considered her questions for a moment. Was she really offering a permanent home – where he would be properly repaired and fully maintained? He hadn’t had that since his first owner’s company went bankrupt. Desire coursed through him, for just like the young mare he held – all he wanted was consistency in his life. “To answer your questions – no, yes, yes and yes,” he met her eyes with his crimson optics, “and I’m a very hard worker,” he added with hopefulness coloring his tone.

“That’s all I needed to know, thank you for helping me with the mare,” the woman said with a wink. She wandered off to listen to his owner’s sales pitch.

No one noticed as the clone stared after her, his forlorn expression well hidden behind his face mask.  He watched as trader after trader called her by her first name and asked her what she was hunting for this month. She seemed to be a human that knew what she wanted – and was a respectable buyer to deal with. He felt conviction enter his core; a conviction that he would somehow ensure that she would get the last bid on him.


He scanned the watching crowd as he lifted saddles over his head, showing that he seemed ‘sound’. The auctioneer’s song rang in his audios as his owner tried to motivate the crowd to bid on him. He’d already picked out the small woman from earlier, and she had bid on him – a single time. But like so many other times before, it seemed as if the promise of permanence was slipping away again.

“two-thousand- two-thousand-do-I-hear-twenty-one-twenty-one-twenty-one?” the auctioneer glanced at Dawn. She was notorious for bidding once then letting something go. A very hard bidder to bid up on.

“Come on Dawn, it’s not like there’s a bunch of them back there!” Shelda whispered.

The Scrapper clone slowly turned; heavy saddle held over his head by a single arm. His optics flashed as they met hers. Was it sadness she saw there? She flipped her number up and bid – watching carefully for who was bidding against her.

“We-have-twenty-one-twenty-one-twenty-one-do-we-have-twenty-two?” the chant continued.

Deciding that he was tired of always being the pawn, the clone did something he’d never thought he’d do before – he made himself stumble. True, his hip bearing was in desperate need of replacement – but he’d been told to hide that fact. Ordered to hide that fact – and so many others. But the questions that woman had asked earlier made him understand that she accepted the fact he’d need repairs. And if he kept the price down – then she could afford him. So he went down in a heap, saddle falling on top of him.

This stopped the bidding in a heartbeat. The trader who owned him yelled at him to get up, assuring the crowd that he had merely stumbled.

The clone locked optics with the small woman as he laboriously attempted to get up. He was able to, but balanced on the other leg. “My hip bearing has gone out,” he advised his current owner as he turned his optics to him. He made sure to say that loud enough that every buyer in the room heard it.

The trader glared daggers at the corroded droid. If he hadn’t been in front of everyone – he’d have hit the damned machine. Turning to the auctioneer he asked “So who’s the high bidder?”

Pointing to Dawn, the auctioneer said “We’re at twenty-one hundred – you still want it?”

Dawn smirked at the droid as she nodded and gave her bidder number. Her smirk widened as the clone limped out of the ring to her. “Your hip bearing isn’t totally out – or you wouldn’t be able to walk – now would you?” she whispered to him as she patted the bench in front of her, indicating that he should sit down.

“White lies are common here – are they not, master?” he replied, his optics flashing in mirth as he listened to his former owner griping about how little he had fetched. He’d never liked that man anyways. The unknown had been a much better option than the known – in his opinion.

She laughed as she draped her arms over his scoop and let her hands rest on his should armor. “Well, I wasn’t lying about getting you repaired and giving you a long term home if you’re a good worker,” she whispered. She patted his armor like he was a new puppy.

Warmth spread through him at her touch. He’d never had an owner that displayed affection towards him. To most, he was just a mindless tool. True, he was a Constructicon clone, built for industry – not for pleasure, so that was to be expected. It didn’t mean that he and his brethren did not long for more. “And I was not lying when I informed you that I would be a hard worker, ma-am” he replied. Turning his head, he met her eyes and dared to smile behind his mask. “May I know my master’s designation?”

“We’re going to get along fine!” she chuckled as she squeezed his should plating. “I’m Dawn Clifton, and you are?”

Logging in her name and image, the clone added her to his ownership files. “I am Scrapper-Z68785IA” he replied.

“So never got a real name?” she asked him.

“No Ma-am,” he answered as a wash of sadness flooded over him. That was the way it was for industrial clones.

She was silent as she typed a few things into her smart phone and read her search results. “So you’re a Scrapper model?” she asked him.

“Yes ma-am,” he kept his head turned, optics locked on her.

Shelda had also been looking up his model’s specs on google. “Hey, says here that he’s modest, hard working and wonderful at designing, building and fixing things!” she told Dawn.

“Also the leader of a gestalt,” Dawn added. Looking up from the little screen, she met the clone’s red optics. “So that means you can be self-directed then? See a problem and fix it without needing me to tell you how?”

“Yes ma-am,” he responded, swelling a bit as she gave him an approving grin. Apparently, this owner valued what he had to offer. More chance of a permanent home.

Setting her phone back down on her lap, she ran a finger over the corrosion on his dented and dinged scoop. “Well, I’m not the best with names. Howabout ‘Scraps’ – since you’re a clone of Scrapper?”

He finally had a real designation! Not the best one in the world – but it was logical in more ways than one. He was not only a clone of that mech, but probably looked like a heap of scrap metal as well. He didn’t know, since he never got to look in a mirror. But he knew from what he could see – his armor was in pretty rough shape right now. “A fitting name,” he paused and dared to reach up and touch her hand which was rubbing his upper arm, “But I hope that I will not fit the description for much longer, master.”

This made her friend, Shelda, howl in laughter. As did several other people sitting nearby who had overheard. A clone with a sense of humor – who’d have guessed?

Dawn moved her legs and propped her feet up on the seat on either side of the wreck. Leaning forward, she draped her arms around his shoulders as best as she could. He found her smart phone thrust in front of his face plate. “Since you’re a repair bot yourself, I’m sure you know what parts you need. While we watch the auction for the next few hours, why don’t you find the best deal on them for me?”

Gratefully, he took the offered phone. “My pleasure, master” he replied, even as he did a quick system scan to identify every part that needed replacement within him. He understood that this was his first test. She wanted a self-directed clone as his model was reputed to be. His attention focused on the task at hand, the auctioneer’s chat drifted out of his meta.


“The total comes to eighteen hundred and fifty five cents, master” he informed her as he followed her to her vehicle; His limp barely noticeable at this slow pace.

“Including shipping?” she asked as she reached out to grab his arm as if to steady him.

“Affirmative,” looking down at her, he appreciated the gesture even though there was no way a human so small could assist him. “I’m fully capable of walking at this slow pace, ma-am”.

Instead of assisting him, she pegged him with a light hit to his shoulder armor as she snickered. “You really exaggerated the damage – didn’t you? Sneaky.. sneaky…”

Not used to being treated as a human, but having seen humans do the same to each other – Scraps understood that it was a gesture of approval. “You were aware that I was damaged goods – and how much it would cost to fix me, ma-am” he dared to lightly tap her shoulder with a fist back.

Suddenly, she leaned against him, overcome with laughter. “You should’ve seen his face! He wanted to kick your ass all over that ring!”

Even with his damaged hip bearing, her light weight did not off balance him much. Wrapping his free arm around her, he kept her from falling to the ground as she laughed uncontrollably. “I assumed that you were on a budget when you inquired about repair cost…” he began.

She slapped his abdominal armor as she continued to laugh. “So you made sure that purchase cost was very, very low. Brilliant!” she pointed at the smart phone he still held in his other hand. “Let me see the cart you made. I’ll go ahead and order it.”

Handing her the phone back, he grudgingly pulled his steadying arm from around her. It had been the first time he had touched a human like that. It had felt so good.

Grabbing his hand before he could fully separate, Dawn grinned up at him as she nodded back towards the auction house, where his former owner was striding towards them. “Think you should lean on me and make it look good, Scraps” she advised.

Suddenly, his foot started to drag the ground with great shrieks of metal against pavement, making his malfunctioning hip joint appear far worse than it actually was. He did lean on her thin shoulders, but was carefully not to put too much pressure on them. Her arm went around his waist armor, as if she’d been helping him all along.

The trader that had just been his owner strode up to them and eyed him suspiciously. “You got a hell of a deal Dawn – and you know that,” he told the woman, his voice full of accusation.

Not phased in the least, the small woman looked up at him. “That’s how the auction is – win some, lose some.” She grinned as she typed in a few more things on her smart phone, “But it IS gonna cost me big time to fix this wreck up – now isn’t it?”

He glanced from woman to clone and back. “Your problem now. Get what you paid for – no guarantees,” with that he stomped off.  

“Is he as much a dick as I suspect that he is?” Dawn asked Scraps as they continued on.

Since she hadn’t moved her arm from his hip, he didn’t move his arm from her shoulders. “Affirmative, ma-am” he replied with a grin. Once again, he walked reasonably well, with just the slightest of hitches to his gait. He was enjoying how this owner used white lies to her advantage.

One more click on her phone and the order was sent. Stuffing it into a front pocket, she squeezed his side in agreement. “But I’ll let you use your fake blowout to keep your arm over my shoulder anyways,” she chuckled.

“You wanted a self directed clone, ma-am,” he replied with a knowing grin spreading beneath his mask.

“Just don’t lie to ME – and we’ll be good,” she patted his arm with her free hand. “You did save me a bundle with your little act, so let me treat you out.”

She was going to take him out?!? Scraps grinned in pleasure as they reached her vehicle. It was an older Expedition, but had been top of the line when it was new. There were a few dings in it – but it was clean and well-maintained. A testament into how she’d probably treat him as well. For just like the SUV, he was also out of warrantee. However, this woman appeared to keep machines around for a long time.  Hearing the click, he reached to open the driver’s door for her.

“Why, aren’t you the gentleman?” she exclaimed as he helped her in. Before he could turn to walk around to the other side, she grabbed him. “So tell me, do you have pleasure programs?”

“No ma-am, I was ordered for industrial applications,” he replied. Part of him had always wondered about the life of a pleasure clone. Most industrial clones had at one time or another.

“Let me see your face,” she ordered as they looked at each other face-to-face. She’d never been into machines like that; dildos were ok and didn’t argue. But so many other people enjoyed them in their beds. Well….. Since she was a widow now – why not consider her options?

Taking a sharp intake of air, Scraps did as he was ordered. No human had every asked to see his faceplate before. He felt strangely naked and exposed as the cool night air hit his lips. He studied her expression as he was laid bare for her.

“Fascinating,” she mumbled as she ran her hand over his bare face plate. He had decent features, not handsome but not ugly either. His gray ‘skin’ felt almost real, almost like thick rubber warmed from underneath. She touched his lips; they were soft like real lips.

Assuming that she wanted him to open his mouth, Scraps did so. He smiled hopefully, showing her his dentals.

“Do you have a tongue?” she asked as her fingers ran along his exposed dentals. They were a lot like teeth, but were all the same size and shape.

He nodded as he stuck his glossa out at her, not surprised as her fingers explored it. Pulling it back in after she’d finished her exam – he waited for her next command.

“Boy, they thought of all the details with you clones – didn’t they?” she pondered as she ran her fingers along his jaw line. His chassis seemed to shudder as she did so. “Thought you didn’t have any pleasure programming Scraps?” she teased.

“I do not. But we are all programmed to enjoy physical contact with our humans, ma-am” he explained. He enjoyed her explorations, wanted to encourage them to continue. It filled a void he had never known that he had had.

“So what’s the difference between full pleasure programming and what you’ve got?” Hell, if she was now stuck with him – she might as well know everything.

“I cannot activate my interface systems,” he smiled at her, “But I will enjoy any and all physical contact that you choose to provide me.”

“So a man that likes to cuddle – but can’t get it up?” she giggled, “Just like my late hubby.”

So she was a widow then? Now it made sense why she had been interested in purchasing him. Scraps cocked his helm in interest as she continued her exploration of his surfaces. “We are hermaphroditic – but yes, I would enjoy cuddling but cannot service you in that way. Without the programming upgrade that is, ma-am.”

That made her giggle even harder, “Oh geese, I forgot that they designed you guys for the gays too!” She patted his crotch area, “So you have all the equipment –  just can’t use it?”

“Affirmative,” his chassis hummed with pleasure at her touch. A feeling of wholeness flowed over him. This is what an industrial clone always dreamed of!

Bringing him closer, she gave him a quick hug. “Well, I told you to always be honest with me, so I’m gonna be honest with you. I didn’t purchase you for that stuff – and you’re not really my physical type for it anyways.”

His lips dipped in an unhappy frown; he couldn’t change how he’d been built! He looked down, mood plummeting as his fantasies burned to the ground.

“Hey there,” she whispered, her fingers slipped under his chin and forced him to meet her eyes again, “I told you we’d be honest with each other – didn’t I? I will still love and value you for being a hard and honest worker. I will still snuggle with you here and there. You don’t have the programming to miss the other stuff – do you?”

So he could still earn the love that pleasure clones got – even without the pleasure programs? He liked this owner; she was actually telling him what was expected and the boundaries that wouldn’t be crossed.  “Yes, we agreed to be honest with each other, ma-am,” he searched for how to phrase his answer to her second question. She had wanted honesty – right? “It’s true I don’t have the programming – but I’m well aware of what I’ll be missing.” There, it was out in the open. What would she say?

She was a tad bit shocked to say the least. But he had been honest with her. “Well Scraps, I did tell you to be honest. So thank you. We won’t agree on everything, but we need to understand where the other is coming from – ok?” she patted his arm. “I’ve never been with a clone. Who knows? Maybe this old mare will one day warm up to one of you?”

Ok, so there was a future chance! Scrap’s face plate brightened as his mood lifted. At least it wasn’t just him – it was to clones in general she had never been attracted too. Maybe after she’d seen how hard he could work – she’d get more interested?


Several months have passed……

Dawn tromped in from work, her steps heavy as the tired woman slowly ascended the steps to her house. The door opened even before her hand touched the doorknob, the green and purple clone beaming in welcome. “Difficult day?” he inquired politely as he pulled out a chair from the breakfast table so she could sit down.

“Sometimes I wonder why I haven’t retired already!” she grumbled. She smiled as he knelt and untied her orthopedic tennis shoes. Leaning forward, she patted his bucket in appreciation. “But you always make it better!”

Smiling under his mask, he met her eyes as he pulled her shoes off and set them on the perfectly organized shelf. That’s how her farm was now. After he’d gotten repaired, he’d spent months fixing fences, tractors and organizing everything. It had kept the inquisitive clone quite busy. And it was always noticed and appreciated by his master.

“The mulching in the orchard is perfect! Do you need another load of mulch this week?” her shoes now off, the clone helped her to her feet.

“We’re fine for another month. The tomatoes are coming in,” he preened in pride even as he gestured to the bowl of fresh tomatoes he’d picked that day. She’d taught him to be quite the gardener too. It was a lot like maintaining machinery, you just made sure conditions were appropriate for the plant, planted it – and made sure to keep weeds from overtaking it. Wa-la – gardening seemed easy!

She picked one up, “Beautiful!” she exclaimed.

He bent down, mask retracting for his expected peck. Once rewarded, his mask slid back in place – hiding his beaming expression.  “I have prepared a salad with avocado today,” he went and fetched the plate out of the fridge. He knew how she liked it.

With a grateful smile, she accepted the plate. The intelligent Constructicon clone had excelled at everything she’d taught him. “I stopped by the store today. There’s a surprise for you in the trunk if you’ll unload the groceries.”

Without a glance backwards, he was off to complete his new task. Dawn chuckled as she carried her dinner to the living room and turned the tv on. She listened as he brought all of the groceries in and put them away. He preferred to do it anyways, since he was somewhat fanatical about organization. It was kind’ve cute. She looked around her house. Every little thing like dripping faucets and chipped floor tiles had been repaired to perfection. Just like the fences, barns and machinery had. He had been the best investment she’d ever made.

His face mask was retracted and wide grin displayed as he strode into the living room, bottle of Dr Pepper in a hand. “Thankyou Dawn,” he purred as he sat down next to her on the couch, making sure his thigh armor touched her leg. Leaning back as best he could with his build, he slowly opened the bottle. Since she had read on an owner’s chat group – that clones seemed to be addicted to Dr. Peppers – she would periodically surprise him with a few. Taking a sip, he hummed his appreciation as the wonderful chemicals danced along his glossa. He was living the dream life for an industrial clone. A human to call his own that appreciated all of his hard work – and even cuddled with him while they watched movies. He even had his very own room, and was given an allowance to spend! Life couldn’t get any better!

“Auction’s tonight – want to go?” Dawn asked him in between bites.


Scrap’s optics locked onto the other clone from the second he’d spied him across the expansive livestock barn. He studied the movements of the Magnus clone, easily spotting the tiniest points of stiffness indicating internal damage – that no human ever could. He touched Dawn’s arm, nodding for her to turn an ear to him so that he could whisper something.

Pausing in the lively conversation she was having with a friend, Dawn smiled up at him as she complied. “Remember our conversation about the Autobots two weeks ago?” Scrap whispered.

“No,” she shrugged and grinned. “You know I can’t remember that far back, silly thing!” Her friend chuckled with her.

“The conversation when we joked about which Autobots you found physically attractive,” he reminded her.

Predictably, she blushed. “We were just joking around!”

He nodded his head in the direction of his fellow clone. “Joking or not, there’s a clone of one of them here.” It wasn’t that he wanted her to desire another clone. But if it took a different model to get her to warm up to the idea – he was ok with that. And a Magnus clone would have a personality that he could live with – after all, he did get a little lonely while she was at work. At least she hadn’t joked that she found those dreadful Lamborghini twins desirable!

Her friend wailed in laughter, joking about clones in the sack as she wandered off to leave them to their conversation.

“Scraps, why’d you do that? You embarrassed me in front of her!” Dawn pouted as she crossed her arms and glared up at him.

Knowing that she wasn’t really mad at him, the scrapper clone shrugged off her glare. “You said it, and I could use an assistant – might work out for both of us,” he replied with a knowing wink.

“Still hoping I’ll warm up to the idea, hmmmm?”  The tiny woman teased, a smile replacing her pout.  “Even if it’s with a different clone?”

They’d always been very frank and honest with each other, so he nodded.  “I’d rather you are attracted to an intelligent clone that I pick – then an obnoxious one I can’t stand.”

“Boy, you’re something else – you know that? Got some big ball bearings,” she rolled her eyes in faked exacerbation.  “So find out the specs about him. Prove to me that he’s a good deal.” With that, she walked off – leaving the scrapper clone to his own devices.

Moving closer to the Magnus clone, Scraps studied him intently for a while…..


The Magnus clone tried to force a smile on his face plate. Tried to make it seem like he was happy to be here….. But Ultra Magnus had never been a good actor – and neither were his clones. The clone was deeply depressed. All his shows of loyalty had been for nothing over the years. Humans had done nothing but used him and hurt him. He was just a wreck ready to fall apart now.

His current temporary owner had ordered him to lie to prospective buyers. To tell them he was in sound working order and eager to please. He was as good a liar and salesperson as he was an actor. He jerked away automatically whenever he felt a human’s touch. His dull optics stayed locked to the ground. If he’d been a human, he would be described as a sullen loner now.  So it didn’t take long for him to basically chase off most potential bidders.

He didn’t even bother to react when his temporary owner growled threats to him under his breath. Whippings, getting zapped with cattle prods…. It didn’t phase him anymore. He was a nothing machine now, just waiting for the junkyard……

He felt a hand on his shoulder mount, his first reaction was to consider shrugging it off like all the others – but he realized instantly that it was not a human hand, so he paused and glanced up. The ruby orbs of a Constructicon clone met his. They studied each other for a moment. “Open a channel” the Scrapper clone whispered as he began to make a show of examining the other clone.

More willing to talk with another clone than a human, the Magnus clone nodded slightly and opened a frequency. He noticed that the Scrapper clone seemed to be hiding their communication with his examination – for what reason he could not fathom. But hey, he had nothing to lose – so why not? /What do you want?/ he radioed.

Not even looking up from his apparent examination of the magnus clone’s knee servos, Scraps replied /I have four questions for you, yes or no answers/

Ok, this was a new one. The Magnus clone looked around for the owner of this clone, but there seemed to be no one. Was he allowed to act on his own?!? /Where’s your owner? Did they send you to examine a possible purchase?/

Scraps grinned behind his mask; he stood up and briefly met the blue optics before he moved behind him to examine his damage there. /I’m here to try to collect enough information to convince my owner to purchase you/  

A clone trying to convince his owner to purchase another? How odd. The Magnus clone had never seen another clone given that much freedom.  But why would a Constructicon clone want his model?  He didn’t have the programming nor the alt mode to perform construction. He’d just let him down – like he had let all his owners down before. /I’m worthless to you. Save your owner’s money/ he replied.

The Scrapper clone looked up in surprise. Those words didn’t fit with a Magnus clone’s personality profile. Moving around the still clone, he met his optics as he opened some of his chest panels to examine the wiring inside. /Unusual statement for your model. Why do you consider yourself worthless? Your base structure appears sound enough. Only minor repairs are necessary/

Before the Magnus clone could answer, his temporary owner came marching up. “What the hell do you think you are doing to my clone?!?” he demanded to know as he brushed Scrap’s servos away from the Magnus clone’s exposed wiring.

Meeting his former owner’s eyes boldly, Scraps replied “I am inspecting this one for soundness in order for my owner to ascertain his value, sir”

“Tell Dawn that she ain’t getting the deal she got with you – you good for nothing rust bucket,” the man glared at Scraps.

The clone shrugged dismissively, “We’ll see what he brings,” he said as he slammed the Magnus clone’s panels shut and appeared to walk off.

“That sack of lying rust needs to learn his place,” the trader grumbled as his eyes followed the now confident clone. He slapped the Magnus clone’s face plate. “Now, you’d better get happy and start selling yourself to these people – you don’t want to see what happens to a clone who doesn’t sell,” he threatened.

The Magnus clone stayed silent as his temporary owner stormed off. He stood in his place, next to all the tied up horses that would be auctioned after him. The horses getting more buyer interest than he was…. The channel was still open to the other clone. So he took a chance to communicate again with the only friendly face he’d met in this horrible place. /You lied to him?/ he radioed in disbelief.

Across the barn, the other clone radioed back, his tone full of humor, /little white lies never hurt. Plus, that man’s an asshole and deserves to lose money/

/You know him?/ the mini Autobot didn’t dare to look up to see the other clone. His owner wasn’t far from him – and would be livid if he knew they were communicating behind his back.

/Yeah, he owned me for a week. Total asshole. Owners aren’t all like him. I’ve got a good one now – and he’s still pissed at how much money I made him lose!/ His silent chuckle of satisfaction could be felt.

Squeezing his hands into fists, the Magnus clone forced himself to remain motionless, expressionless… He wasn’t used to secret conversations with clones so bold around humans. /Most of my owners have been like him. How’d you make him lose money?/ he asked. He hated the man, he was abusive and mean to both horses and clones!

/Too bad for you,/ he could almost feel the other clone’s sympathy, /I made my damage appear far worse than it really was when they were bidding on me. I chose who won!/

The Red, White and Blue couldn’t help but look up in surprise. He met the other clone’s optics from afar very briefly before dropping his optics back to the floor. A clone who chose his owner?!? Unheard of! But Scrapper clones were very tactically minded – being minis of a Decepticon leader. So if any clone could have manipulated humans like that – it’d have to be a Decepticon clone like him. /Your owner’s blessed to have you,/ he sighed over the radio com, /I have nothing to offer him. I’m just a logistics clone. And I suck at that job./ His tone was tinged with his now typical hopelessness.

He heard a responding snort over their frequency. /Get over it! You’re not heavily damaged and your model’s known for being quick learners and hard working./

The spirit filling the other’s tone was so alien – that he didn’t know how to reply… Except with the truth. /I’ve been through 25 owners. I’ve failed them all. I’m nothing but a failure that needs a quick trip to the dump./

Again, another snort came back over their frequency. /I’ve gone through twenty. But this one is different. She treats us like we’re equals. She won’t yell when you make a mistake – she’ll just teach you how to do whatever again. I even have my own room, and bed, and even a tool shop!/

/If your life is so perfect – why do you want me? I’ll just ruin it/ the miniAutobot shuffled his peds, his optics locked on them as he pointedly ignored another potential buyer. He was miserable – and wanted everyone to know it.

/I will train you to be my assistant on the farm./ Scraps paused for a moment, debating on how truthful he should be. Deciding that it would only be fair to the other clone – he decided to go with brutal honesty. /And my owner’s never been with a clone. Your mech and Optimus Prime are the only ones she is even somewhat attracted to./

So the other clone wanted an assistant and his owner might use him as a pleasure clone? One problem – he didn’t have the programming and really didn’t know if he’d ever want to get that close to a human. They’d only ever hurt him. Since the scrapper clone had been honest with him – he might as well do the same. He’d only disappoint that owner and be sold off again. /I don’t have that programming – and don’t know if I’d want it anyways/ he admitted.

Hmmmm, so the Magnus clone didn’t want to be a pleasure clone? Scraps considered his options. He’d watched enough chic flicks with Dawn to know that many humans ended up desiring what they have to catch. The longer Dawn had to chase the depressed clone – the better, as far as he was concerned. The main strategy for getting this programming wreck was to keep her eyes off of human males for as long as possible. It didn’t really matter to Scraps if the clone wanted to be caught.  /So, you’d agree to be trained as my assistant?/ he radioed back.

Ok, the Magnus clone figured he could at least do that. Maybe he could please a clone supervisor since he had never managed to please a human one. This clone at least understood where he was coming from. /Yes, I guess I could do that without screwing up too badly/

/I will ensure that you are fully trained/, the Scrapper clone walked by him and acted like he was examining the horse next to him. /Continue to act as you have been. It’s a real turn off to the humans. Maybe Dick-wad will lose money on you too/, with a mischievous wink to the Magnus clone, he walked off.

An alien emotion flitted through the Magnus clone’s processors. One that he hadn’t felt for years now….. It was light, cheerful, and caused warmth to flow over him. It was – hope… The other clone hadn’t seemed concerned in the least that he might not be able to get physically close to the unseen owner. So perhaps that wasn’t a deal breaker at all. In fact, he had said the owner was only ‘somewhat’ attracted to his mech – and had never shown attraction to clones to date. With the proper training, surely he could perform well enough for the Scrapper clone to be satisfied. They were the humblest of the Decepticon clones – and from what he’d seen of them, they were pretty even tempered.

Yes, he was really beginning to like the idea of being purchased as another clone’s assistant…


The poor clone had the deer-in-the-headlights expression as they shoved him into the ring. The lights beat down on him as he moved in circles as per his current owner’s commands. His paint job was dull and in need of a major wax, his optics almost as dull – as he steadfastly refused to look any human in the face.

Dawn listened to the whispers around her. People were talking about how withdrawn and sullen this clone was. How useless he’d probably be. “You sure, Scraps?” she whispered to the purple and green clone seated next to her.

He nodded confidently, the other clone was well aware that he was in actuality being purchased FOR him. The other clone had accepted his offer. Magnus clones, no matter how depressed he might be, had core programming that would never let them go back on their word. He would work hard, he would learn. Scraps would have his company and assistant – and perhaps Dawn would warm up to the idea of being attracted to a clone in the process? It was a win-win in his book.  /Keep acting like that. You’re doing perfect!/ he radioed to the other clone.

“Let’s-start-at-five-thousand-who-wants-this fine-clone….” The auctioneer began to chat. Soon it became obvious that few were willing to bid on the depressed clone. One of the traders tried to poke him with his stick, to get him to move out, to sell himself. Instead, he got the opposite reaction – the Magnus clone lost it and crumpled in a heap in the middle of the ring, sobbing about how he was a worthless failure.

Dawn motioned for his frustrated owner to come over to the side. “So, brought a totally glitched one this time, hmmmm?” she teased.

“He’s just acting, that’s all,” he snorted. Tapping the clone, he forced him to back on his peds.

The auctioneer started up again, going lower and lower, trying to get SOMEONE – ANYONE to bid on him. One of the other traders started the bid at $2500. But the price stayed stagnant. As he called for the final bid, Dawn raised her card. “twenty-six, and not a penny more” she yelled.

It went back and forth for a little longer, the owner refusing to take less than $2800 for the Magnus clone and Dawn finally agreeing to it.

His sale over…… his ownership changed…. The Magnus clone blinked into the lights, looking for whoever had their hand up and was motioning for him to come over.  /You are ours now,/ the radioed voice informed  him. He glanced around, easily spying the Constructicon clone. Staggering over to him, he obediently sat down between the legs of the woman that the Scrapper clone motioned to. Silently he shook as the movement of her hands going over his shoulder mounts sent a creepy sensation racing through him.

“What’s wrong with him?” Dawn asked Scraps as her new purchase remained stoically silent and seemed to tremble in fear every time she touched him.

“He has been abused,” Scraps explained. “But he agreed to work hard during training to be my assistant.”

Gently she stroked the Magnus clone’s faded blue helm. She’d never imagined that bad owners could change a strong Ultra Magnus clone into this! Leaning forward, she circled his neck with her arms from behind. “Don’t worry, we’ll help you recover. You’ll be a good clone from now on. It’ll just take some time and training,” she whispered in one of his thin audios.

Not believing what he was hearing, the Magnus clone sat there in total shock. No owner had ever told him he’d have both time and training to learn how to be a good clone! /Lean your helm back and meet her eyes/ the Scrapper clone radioed to him, /promise her that you’ll try your hardest. That’s all she requires./

Thankful that he’d have a mentor clone to tell him what to do, the Magnus clone followed orders. Leaning his helm back, he met her brown eyes with his big blue optics. “I’ll….. I’ll try my hardest to learn… to be good…” he stammered. He wasn’t used to speaking much to humans – other than apologizing and begging them to stop hitting him.

She smiled as those big orbs dared to meet hers. She knew that Scraps was commanding this clone’s every move. He told her that he’d have to for a while. But she acted as if she didn’t know. “You’re so brave!” she whispered, “I know you’ll work hard for us.” With that, she kissed the top of his helm, where his forehead would have been had he been a human.

Fishing in her purse, she pulled out a check, filled out the auction house name and signed it. Leaving the amount blank, she handed it to Scraps and nodded for him to go stand in line and pay for the new clone. Pulling out a twenty dollar bill, she handed it to the Magnus clone. “Here’s your first job. Just outside that door” she pointed at it, “is the concessions stand. I want you to buy two Dr. Peppers and a Hot Chocolate. That should come to like five dollars. Then bring the three drinks and change back to me.”

The clone stared at her in disbelief for a moment. No human had ever given him that much responsibility … had trusted him to go off by himself to complete a task… “Yes… Yes ma-am!” He stammered as he rose to his peds. She stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Call me Dawn, or Mrs. Dawn, ok?” Her eyes sparkled as they met his. “And what is your name, my newest friend?”

“Um, Dumbass – Mrs Dawn,” he replied; His optics downcast since he knew exactly what his name meant. Names were very important to clones. Humans just didn’t seem to realize how important. They could lift one’s self worth up – or tear it down forever.

She seemed honestly shocked. “Well that’s not gonna work at all!” She pondered it for a moment. “Scraps will tell you that I’m not good with names. So howabout  Mags – short for Magnus, your model?”

Ok, well it wasn’t the best – but it sure wasn’t the worst. And it was logical, just like Scrap’s name was. Scraps?!? He couldn’t believe that was the name of the supremely confident Scrapper clone. But it was obviously short for Scrapper. So that must be why it didn’t bother the clone. “Thanks Mrs. Dawn, I’m Mags now,” he replied.

She held out her hand, wiggling her fingers expectantly as he just stared blankly at them. “You are supposed to shake my hand now Mags,” she informed him.

Shocked, as a human had never shook his hand before, he hesitantly wrapped his fingers around hers – thankful that she had told him specifically what she wanted.

“Now firm grasp, not tight – I have arthritis, so too tight hurts,” she explained to him. “Like this,” squeezing his hand with just the right amount. “Now you copy me.”

With a relieved smile replacing his worried expression, he copied her level of pressure.

“Now up-and-down,” she explained.

He followed her lead, calming down more at her touch. She’d explain what he was to do down to the minutest of details. She was actually going to teach him!

She released his hand, nodding for him to do the same. “Very quick learner!” she complimented.

Swelling up with pride at finally pleasing a human – he sped off to complete his next task.  /Be polite and stand in line/ his mentor advised over their open radio link. /Each customer gets served in the order that they stand in line. Wait until you get up to the counter to order./

Mags was very thankful that his mentor had been so specific about how to obtain drinks. He’d have been absolutely lost if he hadn’t. He stammered out his order to the human behind the counter, still not sure about how to communicate properly with humans.

“You’re that clone that Devon dragged in – aren’t you?” the teenager asked.

Mags looked down at his peds, his face plate heating up. He didn’t know how to respond properly. So he simply nodded as he waited for his drinks.

“That’s that poor mute thing – isn’t he?” another teen asked as he brought up the sodas and set them down on the counter between them. “Heard Dawn bought you.”

Again, the clone couldn’t think of how to respond so he just nodded his head.

Going back to pour the hot cocoa, the second teen laughed a bit. “Well, she’s gotten that purple one to start acting all human after just a few months – she’ll probably do the same with you.” Coming back, he set the steaming cup on the counter.

Mags reached for the drinks – and was promptly slapped away. Shrinking back as if he’d been stung, he stared in shocked silence at the first teen. The boy smiled warmly, “Hold your hand out – if we don’t give you change, Dawn will have our asses!”

A relieved smile spread across the abused clone’s face plate. “Thank you, thank you!” he stammered.  Curling his hand into a fist, he protected the change. Then he stared at the drinks, trying to figure out how to carry them.

An old lady standing in line behind him chuckled. “Just like little ones aren’t they?” Moving around him, she began to explain how one carried a hot drink and two cold plastic bottles, arranging them safely in his arms and hands.

Blushing terribly, the clone stammered many more thank yous as he walked out the door. As he approached the door to the main auction house he faced another dilemma: Opening doors with your hands full. Some humans came out and rather nonchalantly held it open for him. Talking about Dawn and her droid projects in warm tones….

Finally working his way over to their seats, Mags was uncertain about how to uncurl his arms without dropping anything. He was saved as Scraps walked by and plucked everything from his arms but one Dr. Pepper. “Well done,” the Constructicon complemented.

Mags stared down at the soda bottle in his hand as he settled down in his seat in front of his owner. Again, Scraps saved him from embarrassment. Leaning down, he showed the other clone how to unscrew the cap from the bottle. “This is our reward for jobs well done today. Enjoy,” he whispered in the Magnus clone’s audios.

Mags continued to stare at the bottle in amazement. He’d never had humans act so nicely to him. Never had them go out of their way to help him like that. He’d always been berated for not doing anything perfect the very first time. He’d also never been given a reward. Should he drink it? Save it for a souvenir? “Go ahead, take a sip. Clones seem to love those things,” Dawn whispered in his other audio.

Ah, clear orders on what to do with his reward! With a happy sigh, Mags put the bottle to his mouth and took a big gulp. A flavorful explosion rocked his glossa – shocking him so much that he reflexively spit it out on the ground. He groaned as he was sure that he had screwed it all up yet again.

Instead, Dawn and some of the other humans began to laugh their butts off at his shocked expression. They joked about carbonation going through the nose and other graphic tales.  Sure that he was being ridiculed, Mags started to curl into himself. A touch on his other shoulder mount, the slide of armor against his as his mentor moved to sit next to him. “You made them laugh – good for you!” Scraps said cheerfully as he took another swig of the soda.

From his mentor’s reaction, he had not screwed up. So Mags lifted the bottle back to his lips and took a much smaller sip. Now he was prepared for the wash of stimulation on his glossa. Imitating his mentor clone, he leaned back against Dawn’s legs and enjoyed the pleasure that was Dr. Pepper.

Time passed by as they watched the action in the ring. Mags kept his audios keyed into his new owner’s vocal frequency. His meta recording, analyzing and playing back each of her conversations. This was the first time in literally years that he had begun to see a light at the end of the tunnel of disappointments. And he was determined to learn his new master, her moods, her personality and her expectations as quickly as he had ever had. So while his optics were focused on the ring and his glossa focused on his tiny sips of the now almost flat Dr. Pepper – his processor was focused on his audio receptors.

Scraps watched him, remembering that first night that he had also leaned against Dawn’s legs and sought to learn everything about her in four hours. It was kind’ve cute seeing that Autobot clones did the same thing. He felt bad for the other clone’s past. True, his past owners hadn’t been all that caring for his needs – but they hadn’t been truly abusive compared to what Mags had apparently gone through.  He pondered on the fact that he felt compassion. Decepticon clones were not programmed with an emotion so alien to the Decepticon faction. So he must’ve developed it along the way. Or maybe being a gestalt leader, his mech had some deeply imbedded compassion for his gestalt members – if for nothing else the fact that he was linked to them in a way that no other mech could comprehend? Perhaps that was also why he felt an emptiness being an only clone?  Perhaps he was built to be social with other clones?

A contented smile warmed his hidden face plate as the armor touching his thigh shifted and pressed more tightly against his. Moving his hand from his lap, he nonchalantly draped it over the other clone’s thigh armor as he leaned back against Shelda’s legs. He felt Mags stiffen for a few minutes, the clone trembling slightly as he glanced back at Dawn and then at Scraps – worried that she might get angry. Scraps patted his leg and gave him a comforting nod. /You’re good, chill out,/ he radioed.

Mags relaxed at his words. Sliding his hand over, he set it on top of Scrap’s arm. Not holding hands mind you, but just one laying one hand on top of the other. He’d never really been around another clone in close quarters. Yet he was finding much comfort in the fact he’d probably always be stuck around this one. Scraps was a natural leader – and Mags already knew he was a natural follower.  It would be a good partnership after he was trained.

Shelda nudged Dawn and nodded down at the pair sitting in front of them on the stands. She mouthed ‘how cute’ to their somewhat hand holding.

Tapping Scraps on his bucket, Dawn gave him an approving smile as his optics met her eyes. She grinned as he swelled in pride. ‘Big brother’ she mouthed back to Shelda.


“So this will be your room,” Dawn announced with a flourish as she opened the door.

Mags wandered inside, his optics wide in child like wonder. He’d heard of clones having their own rooms – but never dreamed of having his own! It was a small guest room with a full sized bed. Everything was feminine and in floral patterns. He didn’t care though. It was his! “Mine?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yep,” Scraps replied as he strode in. He glanced from bed to clone and back again. His optics quickly took some measurements that didn’t seem to agree. “Lay down on the bed,” he ordered the other.

Without a second thought, the Magnus clone laid down on the bed. And just as Scraps suspected – his peds hung off the end.

Dawn came over and put her arm around Scraps. “Guess we’re going shopping tomorrow” she chuckled.

“Indeed,” he motioned for the other clone to stand up. “This will not work for tonight, he’ll have to defrag in your bed,” he announced and marched out, a rather mischievous grin behind his mask…. Leaving the new clone and the woman to stare after him with their mouths open in shock…..

“Well I never!” Dawn proclaimed as she started after the purple and green clone. But the look on Mags’ faceplate stopped her dead in her tracks. He began trembling from helm to ped in trepidation. “I told him…. I told him…” he whispered as he sunk down on the floor and began to sob.

Her instincts as a mother took over. Coming over to him, she wrapped her arms around him and started rocking him like a small child. “shhhhhhh, it’s ok Mags… It’s ok… We’ll get you your own bed tomorrow… I promise..”

He tensed at first when her arms went around him, fully expecting her to yell.. to be angry with him. As the minutes ticked by and that didn’t happen, he began to relax and listen to her words. “I’m sorry…” he finally blurted out.

“Sorry for what? Being built big?” Dawn met his tear filled optics as he finally lifted his head. “That’s like me apologizing for being short,” she chuckled softly as she wiped his face plate off with her shirt tail. “I like big boys anyways, so you’re just perfect!”

He sniffed his tears back. She didn’t know what Scraps and he had talked about. Didn’t know that he knew she might want to interface with his model. Didn’t know that he didn’t think he’d ever want to do that. And now Scraps had gone and thrown them in bed together – on his very first night!  He broke down again, unable to tell her the truth.

“Ok, ok…. Shhhhhhhhhh…. It’s ok Mags..” Obviously being too big for the current bed was not the issue. She waited for a few more minutes until he’d somewhat calmed down again. Cleaning his faceplate off again, she forced him to meet her eyes as she knelt between his legs. “Ok, now we got a rule in this house that you have to learn to live by. Are you listening to me?”

 He nodded. He liked specific rules, gave him structure to live by.

“Our rule is honesty. We tell each other the whole truth – and the other person listens to it even if they don’t like it. There is no yelling here when you tell the truth – just open discussion. Do you understand?” She stroked his thin audio receptors as she spoke. She’d read in an owner’s chat room how much that calmed the clones who had them.

Even though the calming stimuli was flowing through his systems, he gulped in apprehension at what she was demanding that he do. What would she think? How would she react?

“I promise, no anger – just open discussion. No matter what the truth is. What is really bothering you?” She continued her calming strokes.

“You won’t be disappointed in me?” he asked.

“Never, remember – we know you NEED training,” she assured.

“You won’t get rid of me – like the others did?” he gulped, his optics scanning her face for any hit of disgust, of anger, of disappointment.

“No, we promised you a home as long as you worked hard for Scraps,” she wiped away another tear that was threatening to slide down his face plate.

He swallowed hard, trying to figure out how to say it. “Well, um Scraps told me that you’d never been with a clone.”

“That’s true,” she glanced at the door wishing Scraps was there. She had a bad feeling as to where this might be headed.

A little braver since she didn’t seem upset that he knew that, Mags sat up a little straighter. “He also told me that you’ve only found Ultra Magnus and Optimus Prime somewhat attractive.”

She couldn’t help it; a big smile lit her face. Keeping herself from getting so tickled that she’d start laughing in his face plate; she put a finger across his lips to silence him.  “And he mentioned how hopeful he was that I’d find you irresistible and jump your servos,” she paused – not able to stop a chuckle as his expression made that quite obviously the case. “And you’ve had such a bad time with us humans – that you’re not sure you want to be the target of my affection?”

He just about collapsed in relief as she finished it all out for him – and just seemed highly amused by the entire situation.  “Affirmative, Mrs. Dawn.”

“Ok Mags, let’s be honest here,” she smiled as she leaned forward and motioned for him to do the same. “Yes, you’re much more my type physically than Scraps – but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to jump into the arms of a clone in that way,” she whispered in his audios, “don’t tell Scraps though, he’s really trying – the poor boy.”

He gave her a relieved smile and nodded to answer her knowing wink.

“You don’t already have pleasure programming, do you?” she asked, her fingers curling around his.

He shook his head frantically, leaning away. “I am just a logistics clone!” he exclaimed.

“Shhhhhhhhh, its ok Sweetie,” Reaching up, she ran a light finger along an audio receptor. “I’m relieved that we don’t have to add that one to our complexities right now – ok?”

He calmed down again and nodded his agreement.

“Plus, I seem to prefer men who like to snuggle – but can’t get it up,” she quipped. Standing up, she offered him a hand.

Even though it seemed a tad ridiculous gesture, Mags politely put one of his hands in hers as he stood up. He could learn to handle snuggling with her. She was very small and soft natured. Now feeling braver, he followed her across the house to her room. As the door opened, he gawked at the oversized king bed filling the space.  Why did such a small woman need such a big bed?

“Troy was a very big man. He was my late husband,” Dawn explained even before he asked. “You can have the right side.” She tightened her grip on his hand as he tried to pull away as if to go ahead and jump in the designated side of the bed. “That’s AFTER we’ve cleaned the grime off us. No sense in getting in bed all nasty. Then we’ll just be sleeping in dirty sheets.”

Looking down at his armor, Mags realized what a sight he must be. His paint job was so dull, faded and scratched – and now all covered in a fine layer of dust from the livestock auction – that it was hard to tell what part was what color. Even his white armor appeared to be a dull grimy gray! So without a word he let himself be dragged through another door, assuming she’d take him outside and spray him off with hose. That’s how all his other owners had cleaned him.

Instead, he was led into a large bathroom. Much of it appeared to be under some type of construction, with the bare studs and flooring visible. But the other side had a decent sized walk in shower, toilet and a small sink.

“Don’t mind the mess,” Dawn chuckled as she let go of his hand and began to undress. “Scraps has gotten it into his processor that he can build one of those fancy monster showers where my garden tub used to be.” She grinned up at the Magnus clone as she turned her back to him, now only clad in her bra and panties. “Can you unclasp this? Right here,” she pointed with a finger held behind her back.

Never having even seen a human without their cloth armor on, much less help with the undressing - Mags tried to unclasp the tiny hook with trembling fingers.  The tiny hook seemed to thrill at thwarting his attempts, and the longer it took, the more anxious he became. His battle processor tried to throw him into another panic attack as he felt himself failing at such a seemingly simple task.

“Stop for a moment, count to ten, take some deep breaths,” Dawn said in a soft voice. She turned her head and looked at him from the corner of her dark eyes. “It took Scraps a full five minutes to figure it out – and he’s an engineer!” she snickered with a knowing wink.

Stopping for a moment, Mags did as instructed. His systems calmed down as he realized that he hadn’t failed the task. Apparently, it was a difficult task for clones to master.

Pulling off her panties as she waited for the Ultra Magnus lookalike to calm his systems down, Dawn collected all of her discarded clothes and dumped them in the hamper. “Feeling better now?” she asked with a pat on his arm.

He nodded, his optics taking in what an almost armorless human female looked like. Not what he’d expected. But heck, with no pleasure programming – he’d had no clue. And of course, he felt nothing but simple curiosity as he scanned her up and down.

“Ok, try again. But this time really study the mechanism before you attempt to unlatch it,” she advised as she turned her back to him again.

Bending down, Mags studied the way the latch seemed to hook in on itself. He fiddled with it some more, comforted in the knowledge that it had perplexed his confident mentor clone as well. Finally, it popped open in his fingers.

Sliding it off with ease, Dawn tossed it on top of the hamper as she turned around to face the clone again. She studied him studying her – a wry grin spreading on her face. “A penny for your thoughts?”

“What, Ma-am?” his optics moved from her armorless frame back up to her face. He didn’t understand what she was asking.

“A penny for your thoughts simply means that I want to know what you’re thinking right now,” Dawn explained.

“Oh,” he paused in an attempt to put his thoughts into words, “I didn’t know humans looked like this without armor on Ma-am.”

She chuckled as she slid past him and started the shower to warm it up. It was cute how these industrial clones reacted to the sight of a naked human for the first time.  Without the pleasure programming, they didn’t have a clue that it was supposed to be erotic to see a naked person. They were just – curious – and nothing more. “Well, men look a lot different than a woman like me,” she replied.  Sticking a finger into the spray, she decided that it was warm enough. “Go ahead and get yourself wet all over. Then you’ll step out on this towel and I’ll soap you up – ok?”

He pondered on how different a man must look compared to her as he ducked under the shower door frame and let the water spray hit him. He had to bend down in order to get his helm wet as well. Everything seemed just too small for a bulky clone such as him. Stepping out onto the towel, he waited as she got some fuzzy looking thing all wet and soapy.

“Now you see why Scraps wants one of those really big, tiled, walk in showers. This one’s too small for him – heck, you barely fit!” Dawn explained as she began to scrub his armor with big round strokes using the fuzzy soapy thing.

Now it did make sense! Mags tried to keep his attention on that – and off of her hands on him. Alas, it didn’t work – his battle processor flew online filling him with apprehension at every tiny touch. Humans had never touched him with kindness before – only with anger. He began to shake as his systems threatened to go into a full panic attack again.

Dawn paused and took her hands off of him immediately. “Shhhhhh, Take some deep breaths and count to ten again,” she ordered him.

He regained his composure by the count of nine this time. Looking down at the diminutive woman, mineral oil tears filled his optics. “I’m sorry I keep….” His apologies were cut short by her finger going across his lip components.

“No need to be sorry Mags. It’s not your fault people turned you into this,” she motioned for him to kneel down so that she could get to his helm with the soap. “Just remember, I expect you to have these panic attacks for a while. You won’t make me angry or disappointed at all when they happen.” She scrubbed the top of the helm, the suds streaming down his face plate was comical to see the least.

“Thank you, Mrs. Dawn,” Mags whispered as he now looked directly into her eyes.

She patted him gently like a puppy before beginning to work on his audio receptors. “All I expect is that you learn to use the coping strategies that I’m teaching you. The count to ten one works for me all of the time.” Finished with the soap up, she nodded for him to rinse off. “And since I’ve read that your model prefers very specific directions – Scraps and I will try to give you those. If something is not clear – we won’t get mad if you ask us to clarify.”

Now that the soap had been washed off his optics, Mags glanced over at her and nodded. “Yes, ma-am”.

“So now you dry off while I clean up,” Dawn said as she motioned for him to get out of the warm streams of water. Holding a towel out to him, she smiled approvingly as he took it.

He dried off as she got herself wet all over just as he had. Thinking that she would want the same assistance that she had given him, he found another one of those fuzzy things that she’d put soap in. Sliding the shower door open, he trembled as he reached forward with a helpful hand. He’d never been allowed to touch a human… Been told that he wasn’t worthy…

She jumped as she turned to find the shower door opened. “What the?!?” she started to exclaim – just as the shocked and swiftly downcast expression of the clone registered in her mind. Before he could completely pull his hand back, she quickly grabbed it. “I’m sorry, I was just not expecting you to be so… self directed.”

His emotions roller-coastered from one extreme to the other in the blink of an optic at her unexpected reaction – followed by her calming reaction; Pausing, he took the deep intakes and counted to ten before continuing. He held out the soapy fuzzy thing as if to hand it to her, unsure of what he should do.

“Here, get my back would ya?” Dawn said as she promptly turned her back to him. Hesitant hands began to swirl the soap onto her back – just as she’d done when cleaning his armor. “You’ve never be allowed to touch a human before – have you?” she asked.

Reveling in the strange softness slipping under his soapy hands, Mags shook his head and mumbled a quick ‘no’ that was barely above a whisper. 

Turning around, she put her hands on his arms and looked up into his big blue optics. Now that he was cleaned up a bit, he looked more-and-more like the real mech she’d seen on the news. A mech that she was actually a bit enamored of – to tell the truth. But she’d never admit that deep of an attraction to Scraps, he’d never leave the poor clone alone about it. His expectations would be way too high – for this poor new guy. “They just don’t understand what you clones really need do they?” she murmured, her hands sliding up towards his shoulders. “Even without pleasure programs – you NEED physical contact, don’t you?”

Without those very programs to understand her body language with, Mags didn’t register the desire that her movements and words were indicating. He tried to answer both of her questions quite literally. “No ma-am, they did not feel the need to understand us. And…” he paused as her felt her try to pull his head down towards her, “I do find that my systems enjoy this contact.” He leaned down as she pulled, his optics widening in surprise as her lips met his in a brief kiss. None of his programs or experience told him how to react. “I…. I require further instructions,” he stammered as he automatically backed away from her.

She giggled and went a shade or two darker. “I’m sorry, my mind went to the gutter,” she tried to explain as she pulled back from him.

He stood there, in total confusion, unsure as to what she meant. “Please elaborate ma-am” he asked with a pleading expression on his face plate.

“I’m such an idiot,” she sighed aloud in disgust. “Tell ya what, go get in the right side of bed, and I’ll elaborate once I’m cleaned and dressed.” Before he could walk out with a dejected look, she stuck her head out of the shower. “And no it’s NOT you. You were perfect. It’s me I’m not happy with!”

So he had been perfect??? Then why did she sound ticked off? It made no logical sense to be mad with oneself - did it?  Now, thoroughly confused, the Magnus clone followed his orders and got in the bed; waiting patiently in the silent darkness for his questions to be answered.

Not long after, Dawn came trotting out of the bathroom. She wore different clothes than she had entered in, her day clothes now changed out for one of her silken night shirts. Turning off the bathroom lights, she smiled towards the glowing blue orbs following her every move. “Unlike you guys, we humans have to constantly change our cloth armor,” she quipped cheerfully.

He struggled with how to ask about what happened in the bathroom. He’d never been allowed to question a human about anything in the past, yet now this owner was encouraging him too. Twisting the covers in his hands in an attempt to keep his emotions in check, Mags dared to open his mouth. “Mrs. Dawn, what does it mean when your mind goes into the gutter?” he asked.

She couldn’t help but to chuckle as she slid under the covers next to him. In a smooth motion, she grabbed the tv remote and flipped it on – even as she settled herself. “Ah, such an innocent boy,” she quipped with a wink at him. Sitting on one hip so that she could face him, she reached out and stroked the side of his helm. “When a human’s mind goes to the gutter, it means the logical part of our brain has been temporarily disabled by our hormonal or sexual part of our brain,” she explained.

Contemplating her words, his engine purred at her soft touch. “So it’s similar to when my battle processor takes control – but more like the interface system processor of a pleasure clone?”

“Basically,” she replied with a warm smile. Damn, now that he was cleaned up and in her bed lit with the blue glow from the tv – he looked so much like the real mech. She found her thoughts going to the gutter again. Not good, especially since if Scraps found out how VERY attracted she was – he’d get super hard to live with until she gave into the desire. Not good for a clone like Mags who needed time to work through his glitches.

Magnus clones were very intelligent, and even an abused one with the confidence of a gnat like Mags could easily put two-and-two together. He blushed under her fingertips as the thought solidified. “So, you…and me?” he couldn’t quite put it into words.  His battle processor swiftly came on line, causing him to slightly shake.

“Shhhhhh,” Dawn put her finger over his lips again to shush him. Those oh-so-sexy lips of his…. “Ok, I didn’t tell Scraps just HOW attractive I find your mech. And you’re not going to tell him either! You got that?”

“But…” he was really shaky now, “I suck at lying. Please don’t order me to lie, Mrs. Dawn.”

“Ok, then tell him whenever he presses you for information about anything between us,” she poked his hood and then her chest and back, “that I’ve specifically said its none of his business.”

Relaxing a bit, Mags nodded in relief. He could say that, it was a direct order – thus wouldn’t be a lie. “But while don’t we want him to know? When he said he wanted to purchase me in part to be your pleasure clone – he seemed to support that idea.”

Dawn groaned, “He actually told you that?”

Mags nodded, his optics dropping to stare at his hands as unease filled him.

Her fingers slipped down his helm to caress his cheek. He really was going to be irresistible once he was repaired in mind and body. “So what was your reply to that idea?”

He’d been afraid she’d ask that. Darkness began to settle upon him once more. The certainty that he’d be sold again once she knew. But she’d demanded the truth. He could give her nothing else. “That I didn’t know if I wanted pleasure programming,” he admitted. “I’ve always disappointed humans. I’d just disappoint in that as well.”

Her reaction was totally unexpected. “You poor, poor boy…” she whispered as she moved to straddle his lap and pulled him tight against her chest in a tight hug.

She wasn’t mad?!? For a moment Mags sat there in shock.  As her embrace and coo’d support continued, warmth began to flow over his circuits, driving the darkness off once more.  Hesitantly, he copied her and circled her waist with his arms. Intaking deep gulps of air; he recorded her slightly vanilla scent, her light weight settled over his pelvic plating, and the soft silkiness of her night shirt.

Kissing the top of his helm, Dawn giggled a bit. “You want to know a secret Mags?”

He nodded against the soft swell of her chest.

“Human males are basically worthless in the sack until they get about ten years of experience,” she giggled. Stroking the sides of his helm, she enjoyed the sensation of a ‘man’ with his head between her tits – who wasn’t trying to get in her pants.

Pulling back, he met her eyes. “Really?!?” he’d have never thought that would be the case.

“Really,” she replied, “At my age and experience, trust me – I’ve seen it all with human men.” She stroked his helm as if he had soft hair. “So even if we decide to get that programming for you, I’d give you plenty of time to develop your skills before I’d ever judge your performance.”

“Training?” he asked hopefully. For an Ultra Magnus clone, training and preparation were everything.

“Of course,” she answered with a smile; “and speaking of training, I know that industrial clones can learn to be quite good kissers given proper instruction.”

He trembled anxiously as her hands began to wander along his chassis. He didn’t know how she wanted him to react. Deeply engrained was his terror at disappointing… at being thrown away over-and-over. “Please, my orders?” he gasped as his systems threatening to plunge into another panic attack.

She paused in the playing out of one of her fantasies. “Oh my, your model prefers specific orders, don’t you?”

He nodded, his optics imploring her to give him specific commands… specific instructions… so that he wouldn’t fail her.

“You’re terrified – aren’t you?” she asked, her voice softening as she studied his face plate.

“I don’t… want to … fail..again…” he stammered. Tears slid down his face plate, testament to the struggle going on between his processors.

“Ok,” she said. Sliding off him, she went around the bed to her drawers and pulled something out.  “Lie down and grasp the headboard with your hands,” she ordered as she came back to his side.

Relieved at the direct orders, Mags complied quickly. His engine purred as she murmured what a ‘good boy’ he was being. If he’d had the pleasure programs – he’d have been warned to what was next to come…. Instead, he was very surprised when she tied his hands up to the bed frame. His expression quickly turned to one of confusion.

“Now Mags, my mind’s back in the gutter – but in a good way,” Dawn joked as she pulled the covers off of his chassis. “While you are tied up, I’m going to teach you how to kiss. And then show you how good caresses feel on your armor. You are just to lie there and enjoy. Your enjoyment gives me pleasure. ”

“But, but I don’t have the programming!” Mags gasped as she straddled him again.

“Oh, I’m not going UNDER your armor. So we won’t need your interface equipment for this; Just your lips and general sensory nets.” Leaning down, she silenced his next words with her lips pressed against his.

He lay there in shock as she took his lips. Nothing in his experience nor programming helped him in this situation. His engine sputtered as his meta processor frantically tried to stave off another panic attack.

She lifted her lips off of his for a brief moment. “Now, remember that there’s no way you can fail me. You just have to lie there and enjoy.” She kissed him softly again, her own body heating up at the thought of having an Ultra Magnus lookalike trapped underneath her. “Next kiss, open your lips. I’m going to explore your dentals with my tongue. Then the kiss after that, you do the same to me,” she instructed as she ran her fingers along his thin audio receptors. Not giving him time to argue, she pressed back down on him, her tongue demanding entrance.

As he followed her orders, Mags swooned at the massive data flooding in from his mouth and chassis. Too much input! Sirens screamed in his meta processor. He couldn’t process it all fast enough. Optics rolling up, he went into automatic shutdown sequence.

When Mags went limp beneath her, Dawn sat up in surprise. She tapped on him a few times and got no response. Knowing better than to ask Scraps for advice – since that would let him in on her secret – she grabbed her smart phone instead and began googling.

The sirens went off one at a time in his processors. Slowly, reboot sequences initiated. Systems came back on line one at a time. As his sensory grids came on line – he logged in the fact that he was still tied up and still had weight settled over his pelvic plating. Groaning in defeat, his optics lit up even as he was certain that he had totally failed even the simple task of laying there and enjoying his owner’s touch.

But giggling filled his audios – instead of grumbling. Turning his optics to Dawn, he looked up at her in total confusion. Hadn’t he failed her?

Setting down her smart phone, she patted him on his hood. “You silly thing,” Dawn giggled as she leaned forward and gave him a peck on his cheek. “You had your first orgasm – with just a kiss!”

He frowned, had he failed – or pleased her? She was giggling – but seemed to be insinuating that it wasn’t exactly a good thing.  “Have I – failed you?” he asked, his voice strangely low and husky since the unexpected shutdown.

“Oh my, no” she purred. “You’re just going to need a lot more training to get any endurance.” She slid down his frame a bit and began to kiss his neck plating. “Which simply means that I get to do a lot more of what I’m really starting to enjoy.” Her fingers worked along the seams of his head, causing what seemed like sparks to fly through his sensory grids. “You see, my boy. The other owners who’ve rehabbed Magnus models have all had success by doing the same thing,” she explained in between light nips along his neck.

He couldn’t help but moan as she nibbled along his neck. His entire chassis felt so light – so free – under her knowledgeable touch. The sensory data streamed into his unready meta processor again. No programs there to stop it, to dissect it, to interpret it. “Ma-am?” he managed to stammer in between his automatic reactions.

She paused in her explorations of his now humming chassis. “Take a deep breath and count to ten,” she whispered.

He panted as his cooling fans clicked into overdrive to cool his engine. “Systems attempting to shut down,” he gasped as he fought them down.  This time he counted to ten out loud. Dawn did not move as she gave him an approving smile for his effort to follow the new coping strategy. He sighed audibly in relief as he made it to ten.

“All the owners were successful by pushing their clones past their comfort zone. And never getting impatient with them – no matter how long it took the clones to adapt,” she finished explaining. With a youthful gleam in her eyes, she gave him just the slightest brush of her lips on his. “System shut down is exactly what I’m going for. That’s how pleasure clones react when they climax,” Dawn purred, “I’m just teaching you how to last a little longer before each shutdown.”

He arched up against her as her lips commanded his again. Hesitantly, he began to try and copy her movements with his glossa – as she had instructed him to earlier. It was difficult to concentrate as her gentle caresses along his chassis sent streams of data flooding into his unprepared meta processor again. She had said this was how pleasure clones felt… Had said that shutting down from the extreme data flux was exactly what she wanted from him.. So as the alarms began to ring, he did not feel the all consuming terror as the blackness of shutdown engulfed him. Instead, he felt the warmth of finally succeeding in a task…..

*** Yes, a very long chapter of 28 pages! But it just didn’t feel complete until the Ultra Magnus clone experienced some sensuality. You know what to do – please review!**

If you do get your own muse of a used clone, I’ve made this an open round robin tale. Only ground rules are that your story starts with a pre-owned clone that has some type of weird glitch (aka emotional baggage). The rest is left up to your imagination!  Create your own unique and descriptive title – and if you have multiple chapters list ‘part 1’ ‘part 2’ etc right in the title.


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