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Age of the Machine (Market Comodity 3)	By : Scienceteacher Category: Transformers > G1 > Round Robins Views: 6356 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Do not own Transformers/Hasbro, Am not making a dime off of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A.o.M. part 1
- 2-A.o.M. 2
- 3-A.o.M 3
- 4-A.oM.4
- 5-AoM 5
- 6-AoM 6
- 7-AoM 7
- 8-AoM 8
- 9-AoM 8-1/2
- 10-AoM 9
- 11-AoM 10
- 12-AoM 11
- 13-AoM 12
- 14-Once upon a time
- 15-AoM 13
- 16-AoM 14
- 17-AoM 15
- 18-AoM 16
- 19-AoM 17
- 20-Family Ties
- 21-AoM 18
- 22-Family Ties Pt 2
- 23-AoM19
- 24-Family Ties Pt 3
- 25-AoM 20
- 26-Family Ties Pt 4
- 27-AoM 21
- 28-AOM 22
- 18
- 19
- 20
*Age of the Machine part 17*
*Written by StSE; Universes G1/BW/TFA*

Note: since kuroikitsu is the one reader who is leaving such in depth reviews, I’ve written this chapter basically just for her/him. This one will be a series of ‘shorts’ that I hope will hit most of his/her questions. Though I do hope she/he will write a chapter involving some new casseticon clones. Those of you who are still reading and wondering about this or that clone/human, leave a review and remind me to think about them….

This chapter’s running concurrently with the ’86 G1 movie. The real mechs are now at the time period where HotRod is transformed into Rodimus in order to defeat Galvatron.

BTW: Slash is in Section 6. Fluff until then....

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Section 1: Of religion………

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Steel’s optic ridges were furrowed together in an expression of intense concentration as his digits moved in a blur of typing on the laptop. Chewing absently on his lower lip, he didn’t even notice that once again he’d damaged his component membrane to the point of oil drip. His processors were so engrossed in his work that nothing else was noticed. Nothing else was deemed of more importance…

… Nothing else, that was – except for the living warmth of the being snuggled beneath the covers next to him. With the softest of grunts, she brought the clone out of his trance-like focus. Pulling his optics from the screen, a soft smile crossed his façade as he looked down at the shape beneath the covers. He reveled in the feel of her soft flesh against his hard armor under the thick blankets. His radiated heat protecting her from the continual chill of the Earth’s temperature, at least for the time she slept. Lifting a hand from the keyboard, he rested it on top of the blanket bump that was one of her hidden shoulders. He could tell from her breathing pattern that she was stirring. Soon he would be blessed to have her milky dark eyes gazing upon him again.

“Mmmmmmm,” Grammy mumbled as the silk of sleep pulled free from her mind. Feeling his familiar touch, she huffed as she rolled onto her belly, not even bothering to stick her head out from under the warm blankets, much less open her eyes.

“Stiff again?” Steel inquired. It had become a standard pattern between them now, and even before she answered, his hand slid under the blankets.

“Mmmmm, ‘nother front comin’ for sure.” Grammy sighed as strong digits began to massage the old ache from her neck and shoulders.

“I will inform Daniel at the beginning of my shift then.” The hybrid’s hand continued to rub, working out the knots that were so easily felt.

The old woman’s muffled chuckle radiated from the heap of blankets. “Never imagined that I’d become a weatherman in my retirement. ‘Ol Harold’d never believe it!”

Steel smiled at the humor in her voice. Whenever Grammy mentioned her late husband, it meant she was in a good mood. Not that her bad moods were really that bad. Well, unless you happened to be Grunt. The poor Grimlock clone was rather notorious for getting in her way when she was cooking. He’d gotten smacked in the helm with a frying pan on several occasions. “I’m sure Harold would have been very proud of you. Your accuracy in predicting the storm fronts far surpasses the average weatherman’s.”

Her chuckling increased and she finally poked her head out from under the covers. As Steel obediently removed the laptop from his lap, she propped a pillow in its place and settled her head there, her arm draped over the warm armor of his thighs. “You been writen’ again?” This was more of a statement than a question. Of course he was writing. The clone didn’t need near the sleep that she did, but unlike Groove, the ever-patient Steel would stay in bed in order to keep her warm. Groove was most likely out swapping music files with either the Soundwave clone or the Blaster clone.

“Yes ma-am, I’m trying to write down what we had discussed yesterday. Did you have another dream last night?”

“Ah, good good boy you know.” The old woman patted his leg, a smile on her face. “It’s still amazing that we was chosen for this task.”

Steel met her eyes as she looked up. “As you say – Gods have to choose someone to pass on their words. Do they not?”

Grammy closed her eyes for a moment, the great responsibility she felt on her shoulders weighing her down for the briefest of moments. “It’s still strange to hear ‘Gods’ instead of ‘God’.”

“But we’ve agreed that you hear the human God’s words – and I seem to be hearing the Transformers’ Primus’s words,” Steel replied, his optic ridges drawing together in worry. He’d just finished writing down all of that! It would take him hours to rewrite it all!

“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just an ol’ woman. There was only one God in my life for the first sixty years my boy.” Her humor filled smile settled his fears.

He relaxed again in relief. Absentmindedly, he wiped the drying fluid from his damaged lower lip.

“You did it again Sweety pie,” Grammy teased. Reaching over him, she grabbed a tissue from the shelf. Sitting up, she pulled the covers up with her as she dabbed at his bruised lip.

His faceplate heated up in embarrassment as he realized that she was correct, but he knew better than to stop her from mothering him like this. Instead, his motor hummed in contentment at her gentle touch. This was one of the few times she touched his lips. Yes, he and Groove now shared her bunk – but the relationship continued to be purely platonic in nature. He felt his interface nets begin to stir, and like always he ruthlessly forced the shutdown sequences to those programs. Grammy was their human – but would never be with them like that!

Finished with cleaning up his lip, Grammy set the tissue back on the shelf. “Keep grinden’ ya’re teeth like that – you won’t have ‘em much longer,” she reminded him.

It was pointless to correct her terminology, or the fact that clone dental plates wouldn’t wear down with hundreds of years of grinding, so Steel merely nodded his agreement with her advice. “I’ll try and stop Grammy,” he promised.

Her yellowed teeth shown in the low light as she flashed him a smile. “So, you wanna hear ‘bout the dream now?”

Steel nodded, preparing himself to record every last word within his memory banks so that he could write them down the following morning. They were certain that her dreams came directly from the human God. Dreams that now took the ‘old words and rules of morality’ and modified them to fit in the new era ahead. The current state of the world was merely a transition. A transition between the old sinful ways of what the human race had become – and the new honorable ways that the emerging clone/human civilization would learn to obey.

“It was ‘bout clone/human relationships….” Grammy began.

He leaned in, every fiber cable focused on her words. This topic had been a source of much debate between them over the months they had grown close. So for the human God to broach the subject – was a great relief!

“You see, God still wants us to procreate, but now we’ve got to not only make more human babies, but we’re also responsible for working with Primus to make more of you sweeties sparks,” she poked his hood, “an apparently help ya’re jet clones make more of those egano….” She stumbled a bit on the word.

“Organomech,” Steel filled in for her.

“Yeah, those too.”

“So what does he command us to do for relationships?” He was very, very interested in her answer.

With a long sigh, she shifted herself and her pillow so that she could sit up next to him. “It’s a complicated thing.”

“I’m listening.”

“Ok, first off, God still wants women to get pregnant and have the human father involved. But….”

“But what?”

“Well, since the world’s a very bad place right now, he wants to make sure that the children are always taken care of. Since Ya know that there’s a good chance one or both parents won’t make it to see their children grown, God’s decided that the clones will have to be there too.”

“So he’s commanded that human pairings include a clone?” This was great news for Steel.

“Well, it’s more complicated than that.” Grammy frowned, trying to decide how to put her dream into words. “Marriage now means that the individuals involved agree to help the woman get pregnant – and to promise to take care of her children.”

“So marriages must include a human female – but can now include both men and clones?” Steel had to clarify this so that he could make sure he wrote down God’s new laws precisely.

“Yeah, that’s what the dream showed.” Grammy smiled at him. “Didn’t ya’re dream the other night say something similar with the Eve clones and Jets?”

Again, Steel refrained from reminding her that the proper terminology for Seekers was not ‘Jets’, it was pointless. “Yes, I saw families with the Seekers that always included a human female in order to provide milk for the organomech infants. But the Eve clone families were different. They could include either men or women – not just women.”

“Oh, I forgot that men can give you the…..” she stumbled over the word again.

“Precursor spark.”

“Yeah, that.” Steel always knew what she was thinking, and he never joked about her inability to remember how to pronounce new-fangled words, just like Harold used to…. Curling her fingers around his, she gave the clone a little thank you wink.

“So,” Steel tallied the new rules up in his meta, deciding how best to put them together. “Marriage comes in three distinct forms. All three forms are for the sake of reproduction; care, education and protection of the offspring; as well as the foundation for a strong and moral community.” He paused for effect, glancing at Grammy for her approval of his wording. Getting it, he continued; “The first form involves a woman and either a human husband or a man willing to donate his sperm – and a clone. All will share the responsibility for the human children produced.”

“Agreed.”

“Ok, the second form involves a woman, a Seeker and either another human or clone. The Seeker will be responsible for carrying the organomech to term, the woman shall provide her milk, and the other partner or partners share the responsibility for raising the organomech children produced.”

“That also sounds pretty good.”

Steel smiled at her encouragement. “And finally the third form involves an Eve clone, a human of either sex, and another partner or partners. The human will give new clones their precursor sparks, the Eve clone will spark bond with a normal sparked clone to turn those precursors into true sparks and the other partner or partners shall share in the responsibility of educating the new sparked clones.”

Grammy sat back against her pillow, thinking about how Steel had laid it all out. “Lot different than the ol’ days.”

“More complicated,” Steel agreed, “But life is more complicated now.”

She thought about it for a while, her fingers rubbing his. “You know, the story was a bit off.”

“What story?” He knew she was referring to something in the human’s bible, just not which one.

“The one ‘bout Christ coming back in our darkest hour.” Tears filled her eyes. If there was ever a test or punishment for humanity – now was it.

Steel considered her words. He knew the story very well now. But then a thought raced across his meta - A bright flash of certainty filling his processor. “Maybe he already has and just doesn’t know it…” he whispered.

“What’da say there? My ol’ ears don’t hear like they used to.”

“Nothing Grammy, nothing…” Steel was becoming more certain by the minute. He would have to watch this individual. Watch him like a hawk…

The old woman smiled at him. Curling her fingers around his, she suddenly gripped his hand in a tight hold. “Don’t call me Grammy anymore,” she said, her voice getting very low.

His optics opened wide in surprise, he’d never heard her use that tone before. Never! “Um, well, what do you want me to call you?”

“My name’s Sally. And I’m thinkin’ that my boyfriends should call me by my real name – don’t you?” Her eyes searched his glowing blue optics. She was reaching out to him and Groove – as she never had to any man before or after dear Harold. But now, as she looked into his strange eyes, she realized that she couldn’t bear to think of life without them. And now that God had given her a dream which allowed her to even consider the idea of loving clones – she knew without a doubt that she did.

He chewed on his lip, his meta so stunned by the realization that the woman was finally opening up to them that he simply couldn’t think of what to say.

“Quit that!” Reaching up, she slapped him gently on the side of his helm.

His face plate heating up, Steel dropped his optics and wiped away the dripping fluid from his re-opened wound. “Sorry, I’m just….” He was at a loss for words.

“Well, you two WANT to be with me – so I’d better be hearin’ my name outta ya’re mouths!” She gave him a fake glare.

“Yes, Gra-Sally,” he stammered.

Her hand still on his helm, she forced him to meet her eyes again. He was suddenly acting like a very shy and timid man. It was kind’ve cute. “So?” she demanded.

“Uh, what?” she could be very demanding, the type of old woman who was used to bossing people around, Steel knew. And he truly wanted to do whatever she asked of him – especially now that she’d actually called he and Groove her ‘boyfriends’! But what did she want!?!

Crossing her arms, Sally gave him her most withering of glares on purpose. “You gonna kiss me – or do I have to go and find a clone who will?”

“Oh,” his face plate burning in embarrassment that he hadn’t figured out that she wanted a kiss, Steel leaned forward and planted a hesitant peck on her lips.

She glared at him for a moment longer, enjoying the fact that she could make him squirm so easily. Suddenly, she threw the covers off, slid open the privacy panel, and slipped out of the bunk.

Afraid he’d offended her or something; Steel squeaked in dismay and set out after the purple-robed woman. “Sally, I’m sor…..”

She turned around so fast, he almost bumped into her. “You’d better be in our bed and puckered up when I get back from brushing my teeth!”

His jaw hanging slack in shock, Steel watched her as she disappeared into the communal bathroom at the front of the sleeping trailer.

Walking by him at about that moment, Rover smacked him hard in the helm. “You’d better get your tailpipes back in there. I don’t want Grammy pissed all day because your dumbaft just stood here!”

With a quick smile at the Ironhide clone, Steel dove back into the bunk.

Shaking his head, the red ground clone continued on his way to the communal living room in the trailer. He’d have to tell everyone the good news about Grammy and her clones!

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Section 2: No longer the only one……….

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Glock could feel Dante’s hands gently rubbing something into his armor. Fighting the fog of stasis, he concentrated on finishing the reboot sequence. He felt different, very very different. His identifier programs scanned his systems. Systems that no longer matched a Megatron clone. What had been done to him!?! Had he been somehow damaged and the medics turned him into a hybrid?!? Growling slightly, the world came into focus slowly as his optics brightened.

Feeling his mate move slightly, Dante looked up from his work, a giddy smile on his face plate as he watched Glock’s optics flame into activation. His mate had always been powerful. Been the model that made others feel his future greatest simply by being…. But now that Glock had followed his mech’s change… He was simple…. Breathtaking to behold… The Starscream hybrid ran his wax coated digits over Glock’s new torso… His wide shoulder servos spoke of unmatched strength… His face plate now appearing younger, more masculine, more powerful…..

Trying to sit up, Glock snarled in frustration as he realized that for some reason he was unable to. He was weak… He was dependant… He glared up at his beauty… “What have…. They… done to me?” He was appalled at how thin and frail his voice was. He was a Megatron clone! This condition was not tolerable to him!

“Shhhh,” Dante put a digit across Glock’s lips. “They didn’t do anything to you – or the others. The power of the Matrix and Unicron did it.”

Trembling in weakness, Glock lifted one of his hands and looked at it. His arm belonged to another not to him, for its armor was smoothly rounded like that of a human’s battle suit and the metal itself imbedded with a purple color. “Give me…. My old chassis… I do not… care for this ….one,” he demanded as he allowed the arm to fall back down to the mattress.

“Command unexecutable; return to original form denied.”

Glock frowned as Tune’s emotionless voice answered his demand. Weakly, he turned his head in the direction that the voice came from. Tune was sitting next to another prone clone that was lying on a mattress on the floor of the wide open trailer with him. Not really noticing the prone clone, Glock narrowed his optics at the blue clone. “I… didn’t ask…you! Where’s a … medic?!? I demand… to be… restored!”

“Yeah Tune, now that you have your own – quit getting in our business!” Dante added, straightening his wings in threat. He patted Glock’s still-soft armor, enjoying the fact that for a little while the clone actually depended on him. “He’s right though, no one can change you clones back. You followed your mech’s change.”

His frown deepening, Glock grabbed Dante’s hand. He squeezed as hard as he could, which wasn’t much considering how weak he was. “Change? What… change?” his voice was still harsh. He did not like being dependant… Did not like – not being the one in control!

“Megatron WAS changed into Galvatron, you were right! So now you’re a Galvatron model.” Dante leaned down, taking the clone’s lips. His wings shivered as his glossa slipped between those incredible lips…. His digits running along Glock’s strong jawline… He had always been attracted to clone’s with power – whether it was clones whom everyone wanted to be around, or clone’s with physical strength. Glock was the embodiment of both! Slowly, he lifted from his lips, not really wanting to end the contact. “You are the most powerful of models now,” he whispered, “You will be unstoppable on the battlefield!”

Glock scanned Dante’s optics suspiciously, his internal programs trying desperately to sinc with his new chassis design. It was true that it did not match any known clone design. Activating his battle processor, he scanned the weapon systems. His optics widening in surprise as the stats came back. Sinking back into the soft mattress, his glare softened and a ironic smirk curled up the sides of his mouth. “With my Seeker carrying me aloft – no infected clone shall escape my scope, yeeeesssss.” His weak voice was colored in glee…

He glanced at the other side of him, and saw another strange model lying in defrag next to him there. This one was a powerfully built orange Autobot model. Weakly, he turned his head further so that he could look past that clone. There were many others lined up that were identical to the Orange Autobot model, and many more of a new Decepticon flyer model. “Did we all…. Change?”

“Negative: Change occurred with sparked Megatron, HotRod and Skywarp clones who were not bonded to a human mate,” Tune answered.

Not bothering to waste the little energy he had to look at the blue clone who forever followed him around, Glock nodded his understanding. But then a thought hit him. He had barely survived the change with the advanced medical support that the Unit offered. If there had been another sparked Megatron clone somewhere out in the wilds – he must be off lined by now. “So…. I’m truly… the only one… now…Yes” Cold sarcasm colored his every whispered word. His internal loneliness threatened to overwhelm his logic circuits.

“Not …. by a longshot…” a whispered voice identical to his answered.

His spark leapt in wonder. Struggling, Glock turned his head towards Tune again. The blue clone shifted his position, allowing the clone to actually SEE the clone he’d been waxing. Identical red optics met, narrowed, studied each other critically for a long moment. “What’s…. your designation?” Glock finally asked. He liked what he saw of his fellow Galvatron model. Their chassis’ was designed for strength… power…. Combat superiority….

“Stun…. You?” The other Galvatron clone was scanning his fellow’s chassis with an equally impressed expression.

“Stun?... Suitable yes…” Glock’s lips curled upwards. “I .. am … Glock.”

Stun nodded ever so slightly; obviously he was just as weak as Glock. “Drug.. task force… sharpshooter.”

“Vice squad…” Glock was pleased that his fellow had been in a similar line of work prior to Yellowstone. The Unit would never be overrun with infected clones with them to protect them! But how had so many changling clones been found? He glanced around the room. There were so many of them! “How… were they… found?” he asked Tune.

“Analysis of investigation performed by Sharon and Jag: Opie has ability to travel spark realm. His spark fetched surviving changlings. Transported them to medical squad,” Tune replied in his monotonous drone.

The Galvatron clone considered the news. The longer he considered it, the wider his smirk. Soon, he was snickering weakly to himself, his optics gleaming mischievously.

“What are you laughing about?” Dante asked as he resumed waxing Glock’s hardening armor. He didn’t like not knowing what his mate was thinking.

“Don’t you… see?” Glock snickered.

“See what? I don’t see anything but you.”

“You all…. So blind…yes….” Glock met Stun’s optics. “Our partner… Optimus model Opie…. Eve spark… generates.. new sparks…” He grinned as Stun’s optics brightened in understanding.

“Travels the … realm as well…. Hmmmmm” Stun’s lips curled into an identical grin.

“Crosses it… like the Matrix…. Yes…” Glock’s chassis trembled under Dante’s digits.

“He carried… me… He’s powerful… Very powerful..” The other Galvatron pulled up the memory file as he spoke. He could clearly remember meeting the Optimus model’s blue optics as the clone dug him out. Clearly remember wondering briefly at the clone’s bare face plate.. At the scar disfiguring the side of his face… “Is he loyal.. to you?” It wasn’t typical of Megatron and Optimus clones to become close. Primarily because both had a ingrained distrust of the other.

Glock nodded just slightly, his grin widening yet further. “Very loyal…..yes…” Yes, Opie would do anything for him, just as he would do anything for him.

“Hmmmm…. He leads this… Unit?” Stun asked, his optics narrowing a bit. It didn’t seem right for a Megatron, no Galvatron, clone to follow an Optimus model. Granted, they WERE both models meant to lead – just not together as a rule.

Chuckling, Glock shook his head just slightly. “Not… yet… No.”

Understanding his fellow model’s implication, Stun smirked. He would learn this Unit’s hierarchy soon. Learn it and one day rise to a high rank as well. This other Galvatron clone? Yes, he would be inclined to follow him. He liked the way he computated.

“Yes…. We clones…. Have our own… matrix…. Yes…” Glock whispered as he relaxed back into his mattress. The Matrix was the mech’s direct connection with both the knowledge and the power of their ancestors. Opie was the clones’ living matrix. Opie would be their key to a future Nation, respected by all. He just didn’t know it. He didn’t need to know it. Glock would be his guide, his protector, his partner – forever….

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Section 3: Sanity…

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“Bond….” Opie’s words slipped through his cracked lips. His optics refused to fully come back on line, leaving him in a foggy surreal world. His spark pulsed so weakly, that it almost felt non-existent. His servos so heavy that he couldn’t even move his head….

“Shhhh, he’s saying something!” a shrill voice whispered worriedly.

Shards of delight penetrated his world of darkness at Scream’s high pitched voice. He had come to him! Been by his side through it all… Opie sighed in happiness as he felt digits stroke his hood, curl around his digits on the side that Scream’s voice originated from. But he couldn’t waste time though! If he didn’t load these programs into Bond while he was unconscious and had his fire walls down…. Opie’s shred of a spark plummeted at the thought of failure. His ports ached in agony from the pounding his spark had taken at the hands of Cyclonus. “Bond… Bond..” he whispered.

“He’s asking for Bond, Scream,” Jag’s voice said.

“But… I’m here.. It’s Scream – not Bond!” Scream’s voice whined.

Opie cringed inside as he heard the hurt so clearly. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Scream – he just had to help Bond. He had to finish his mission. “No… need… Bond now…” he stammered weakly. He tried to tighten his digits around Scream’s as much as his weak state allowed. “Please…. Bring him…..”

“But … He’s still out cold,” Scream replied, his voice colored by confusion.

“Bring…. Bond… Programs…..” The Optimus clone commanded his data link panels to open, praying that Jag would figure it out. He could picture the tactician studying him. While Scream wouldn’t understand due to his emotional state – surely the stoic Prowl clone would.

“What? What are you doing Opie? You’re in no shape….” The sound of metal-hitting-metal filled the bunk, and Scream yelped as his words were cut off in mid-sentence.

“Go Scream. Go get Bond and carry him here,” Jag’s voice was calm, even though it was obvious that he’d just tried to smack some sense into the red Seeker.

Another sharp clang of metal against metal. “You didn’t have to fuckin’ hit me!” Scream’s voice snorted.

Opie listened as the tip-taps of thrusters faded out of sight. He smiled in Jag’s direction, his lips hurting as the movement re-opened the wounds Cyclonus had given him.

“I don’t know what this is all about Opie. I just hope you know what you’re doing. Your spark is so weak – its almost gone,” Jag’s voice cracked, telling the temporarily blind clone that he was very concerned.

“I… Know…” Opie whispered back. He felt Jag’s digits spread something soothing on his cracked and bruised lips. Probably that thick version of Vaseline that Alchemy had recently formulated. It did feel good.

“And no one knows what’s happened to you either,” Jag continued.

Finished with coating Opie’s lip components, the Optimus clone felt the hands shift to his legs. His face plate heated up as he realized that fluids were seeping from his closed port. Somehow, his spark’s experience with the living mech Cyclonus had left evidence on his chassis. He whimpered slightly as his unseen mate spread his legs a little.

“Are you going to open your port hatches willingly – so I can get you cleaned up before Scream comes back?” Jag’s voice asked.

With the slightest of whirs and clicks, Opie allowed his ports to be exposed. The cool air hit the mech hydraulic fluid seeping out of him, renewing the sting to his abused ports.

Clicking his dental plates together in disapproval, Jag reached over Opie to grab the Prime clone’s medic bag. “When you are strong again, I’m going to need a full explanation of this,” he stated as he fished through the contents, looking for what he needed.

The helpless clone cringed; he really didn’t want to tell all he had done. It was bad enough that Jag was lifting up his pelvis and stuffing a beach towel under him there. He knew exactly what the tactician was searching for in his medic bag. The same device medics used to prep human female vaginas for insemination – could also be used to clean out clone ports that had been soiled by mech fluid. He should know. He’d helped Rumble’s clone mate, Clipper, out on many an occasion.

Opie shivered as the tip of the flush was slowly worked into his sore forward port. “We already know that we have you to thank for changling clones seeming to appear out of thin air. So don’t bother to act innocent,” Jag’s voice went on. The Prime clone yelped weakly as the tip of the flush made it all the way inside him. “The only question we have – is how did you do it Opie? How do you leave your chassis and travel like that?”

“I…. don’t….eeeeeekkkkk!” His weak answer was cut off by a squeal as cold fluid surged inside him. His chassis went tense as every sensory bundle within his port – screamed for it to stop. “c-cooooolllllldddd” he whimpered. How many times had he done this to Torie? It hadn’t seemed to bother her this much. He felt the towel wettin as the cleaning solution flowed out of him, carrying the evidence of his meeting with Cyclonus along with it.

“Figured you knew what to expect – you’re the medic,” Jag’s voice replied. Opie’s aft port quivered in anticipation of the cold treatment as the flush was withdrawn from his forward port. His audios picked up the sound of it being refilled. This was so degrading…..

Allowing his legs to be shifted further apart by his mate, Opie tried to prepare his meta for the sensations soon to come from his aft port. Didn’t work though, his dental plates clanged harshly together as cold fluid assaulted his most sensitive sensory bundles back there. He’d have to think long and hard before letting his free spark interface with a living mech again! This hadn’t happened when he’d spark interfaced with another free spark like Starscream.

“All cleaned up now.”

Opie felt Jag wipe him like some infant. Then the damp towel was rather roughly yanked from under him. “Th-thanks…” he whispered to the tactician. It was bad enough for Jag to have to do this. Scream would’ve been an emotional wreck about it.

“You know I don’t need thanks. I’m just avoiding an awkward situation with Scream,” Jag’s stoic voice replied. Opie felt the clone sit down next to him, heard him sigh. “Bad enough dealing with Charge these days.”

Opie wanted to ask him to continue, but the tip-taps of thrusters approaching and the mumbled cursing of a familiar voice – told him that now was not the time.

“Freager’s even heavier now – than he used to be!” Scream complained. Opie felt Jag move off the bunk. He heard them rolling the unconscious changling in next to him. Warmth radiated from the contact he now had with Bond’s soft armor.

“So now what does Opie want us to do?” Scream demanded.

“Link them would be the obvious guess,” Jag replied.

“They’re both too fucking weak for this! We should get a medic,” Scream’s voice was colored by worry.

Opie could almost feel Jag’s shrug. “Opie is a medic. It’s obvious he thinks that this programming exchange can’t wait.” He felt a cable being plugged into him. Running his link programs, he soon broke through into Bond’s unguarded processors and began the erase and download procedures….

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Section 4: Jealousy…

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Charge snarled inside as he watched his fech mate leaning next to Jag, worriedly holding the other Optimus clone’s hand even as he complained. His hands clenched into fists, the hybrid slid back out of the trailer before his rage could boil over. Once again, his processors were battling each other. His Prime meta urging him to stay cool, to understand, to forgive – while his Onslaught battle processor urged him to destroy.

His hidden face plate in a scowl, the ground commander marched across the warehouse they’d commandeered while they rode out the most recent ice storm. So wrapped up in his own internal strife was he, that he didn’t even notice the sounds of the two flying down behind him.

“What the?!?” he snarled as his arms were grabbed from behind. He was hefted into the air, his peds kicking uselessly as the two powerful combat choppers lifted him to a secluded area.

He was dropped like a stone when they got there. The enraged ground commander snarling as he landed in a heap in front of other clones. “You two had better have a good explanation for this behavior!” he threatened as he climbed to his peds and glared at them.

Clipper and Storm both shrugged as they landed lightly on their peds, on either side of a third clone, Steel. The Bluestreak/Prowl hybrid met Charge’s purple optics without so much as even a flinch or second thought. “I requested that they bring you here – for a meeting of, shall we say, our support group.”

Crossing his arms, Charge didn’t shut off his battle processor. His optics gleamed purple as he snorted in contempt at the three. “I’ve seen no permission request for any ‘support group’, and it is highly suspect for you to send these two to fetch me.”

“Social groups do not require permission to meet,” Steel replied.

“Certainly, I’m not a willing participant in this ‘social group meeting’,” Charge fired back. He’d take them all on, and probably win. They should know that by now.

“But it’s the very issues you face – that is the reason we get together every now-and-then,” Clipper said. He approached his leader, holding out a hand. “Shut down your battle processor Charge. You know we’re on your side.”

Slapping his hand away, the Prime hybrid’s optics stayed purple. “I’ll turn it off when I’m damn well ready to turn it off!”

“You’re in conflict Charge. That’s what is causing your out-of-model behavior,” Storm moved closer as well, if Charge exploded it would take all three of them to bring him under control again. The hybrids had all seen Charge’s increasingly violent jealousy towards Opie. They all understood. It was the very fact that he was a hybrid that was causing the behavioral issue. They had decided it was time to intervene….

“We understand Charge. I understand Charge. I’m an Autobot/Decepticon hybrid myself. It’s not easy…” Clipper held his hand out to his commander again, fully expecting for it to be slapped away again. Which it was…….

“I don’t need your help. I don’t need to talk! I’m fine! I’m a Prime clone!” Charge backed up, his optics glowing redder by the minute.

“You AREN’T a full Prime clone. Yet, you are expected to act like one. That’s the problem,” Steel replied. They all knew he’d most likely blow, but sometimes that was what was needed for a clone to realize he needed help.

“You’re frustrated inside. You see a full Prime clone who acts like a wimp because of his past. You’re disgusted with him – because you’re actually jealous of him. We understand, Charge,” Storm actually laid a hand on the clone.

The truth of their words, coupled with the threat of their nearness – pushed him over the line. With a growl, he hit Storm with a hard right hook, at the same instance pegging Clipper with a left jab. Before Steel knew what was happening, he was knocked out cold by a front kick to his dentals. “I fucking warned you bastards that I didn’t feel like discussing it!” Charge snarled as he stormed away from the unconscious trio of hybrids.

----------

Section 5: Going for a Walk

--------

“Where are you going?” Doc asked as Charge stomped by.

His mate stopped. Turning around, he looked at his peaceful mate and the organomech toddler who was climbing all over him. “Out.”

“What do you mean – out?” the First Aid clone asked. By Charge’s purple orbs, he knew the clone was in a foul mood, probably something to do with Scream again..

“I need a walk. So I’m going out.” Charge turned to walk past him, but was stopped by a hand.

“Charge, you’re in no mood to go out by yourself – and we’re under four inches of ice out there anyways! Why don’t we go back to our bunk and watch a movie together?” Doc pulled Rhinox’s curious fingers out of his mouth while he talked.

“I don’t feel like a movie. I need a walk!” Charge yanked his arm free of Doc.

“Ok,” Doc sighed, “TC’s watching Airrazer, so let’s just leave Rhinox with him – and I’ll go with you.”

For a moment, Charge considered saying no, but those beautiful blue optics ….. Well, he could never say no to Doc, and Doc knew it. “Ok,” he agreed.

Leaving the youngling with TC and the other youngling, the pair pushed open one of the side doors of the warehouse and slid out into the glittering ice covered world outside. No one realizing yet that three clones were damaged. No suspecting that the Unit was being overtaken by a squad tracking them…. No one pausing to think that wild clones were on the hunt – even in this weather….

--------

Section 6: Searching for friends….

------

“Is this ever going to let up?” Scott groaned as he peaked outside.

Dave shrugged, “I’m no climatologist.” Throwing another log on the fire, he leaned back against a Steeljaw clone. “At least we got these guys,” he said in a cheerful tone and patted the metal cat.

Sebastion’s loud purr filled the dark house that was their current refuge.

“Yeah, property of a country that no longer exists,” Mike snorted. Pulling out a deck of cards, he began to shuffle them. “Spades or poker tonight?”

“Serge, mind telling us grunts how you stay so fucking peppy?” Tim asked. He gave Dave a smack on his head as he walked by.

“Well, nothing else to do.” Dave glanced up at his comrades. “We could just sit around and bitch about our blue balls.”

Scott rolled his eyes at that joke. “How’d a guy like you make it up the ranks?”

“Probably blew everyone,” Matt snickered.

Mike leaned forward. “I’ll tell you his secret,” he whispered REAL loud.

Dave just smirked, he knew what was coming. It didn’t phase him in the least.

“What’s his secret?” Scott predictably asked.

“He not only blew them – he swallowed and asked for more!” Mike quipped.

This got the remaining members of the squad laughing hysterically, brightening the mood drastically.

Sitting down, Scott nodded for a hand of cards. “Speaking of blue balls. I’ve had them ever since we got booted out of that crazy town.” He glanced at the Eject clone who was settling himself down next to him. “But we’d never leave our brothers out in the cold like that!” he said as he slapped the clone on his back armor.

Reject smiled, the clone had a sense of humor to match his serge’s. One had to – when their commanders gave them a name as a joke. “I can’t believe they didn’t believe you guys, sir.”

“Crazy motherfuckers weren’t they?” Matt said. Reaching into his front pockets, he pulled out two more cassettes and tossed them in the air so that they could transform into bot mode.

“They did claim that a bunch of infected clones attacked them and kidnapped a bunch of their women. So maybe they have reason to fear clones?” Mike nodded for the two clones to take a seat then threw them some cards.

“So we’re tracking these clones in order to free the women?” Reject asked.

Several other alt mode clones were thrown up in the air by the soldiers so that they could transform to bot mode for the night. Of the five that were thrown up, three were Shockwave models, two were Megatron models, one was a Ravage model and the last two were Buzzsaw and Laserbeak models.

“We are tracking these clones because the townspeople were hiding something,” one of the Megatron clones replied. Moving to a window, he pulled up a stool, dusted it off and sat on it. His optics began scanning the ice around them, even as his audios kept up on the conversation. With a wave of his hand, he commanded the other clones with weapons for alt modes to take up their night time watch positions. This was the routine of this front line special ops squadron. They defragged while the humans carried them during the daily march – then they kept guard while the humans slept. Colt was the official leader of the clone night detail, no one had ever questioned his authority.

“It was a truly pathetic attempt at deception,” the other Megatron clone agreed. Magnum nodded at his human partner Matt as the man patted his tailpipes while he walked by.

“Don’t be so hard on them Mags,” Mike snickered.

The clone turned and regarded the private. “True, they ARE only human.”

Both men and Cassetticon clones fell over, roaring in laughter; Leaving the five more serious weapons clones to optic each other in feigned disgust at the show of emotion.

“Amusing how they always think its hysterical when you use their own words against them,” Colt noted.

“Do they even realize that it’s an insult?” Magnum sighed as he grabbed a stool and took up a position across the room.

“Sir, we will split up and take other ground floor window positions,” the three Shockwave clones said in unison with a crisp salute to Colt.

Saluting them back, Colt sent them on their way. Turning his optics back to his fellow Megatron clone, he shot him a cocky smirk. “No more an insult than when they kiss our alt modes after every skirmish and thank us for saving their butts.”

“Hmmm, at least they thank us. And treat us as equals. Better than back on base.” Magnum leaned on an elbow servo, his optics focused on the outside.

Standing up, Dave walked up to his weapon partner and slapped him on his shoulder mount. “I told you boys that we’re all brothers in this together. You, me – and” he glanced at the Rumble and Frenzy models, who were already starting their typical bickering over who took whose cards “unfortunately them too.”

“Amazing that they were listed as good bodyguard types by the corporation,” Colt noted. His armor warmed at his partner’s touch. No, it wasn’t due to desire; none of the military clones had those programs loaded, it was due to his attachment to his human. It pleased him that Dave was a strong leader. And even more so, since he’d impressed Dave so much that the Sergeant had assigned him leader of the night detail.

“Hey, it was Dunce that took MY hand! Why don’t you guys pick on him!” Spade whined. He hit Dunce upside the helm with the flat of his hand.

“Fuck you – you toaster!” Throwing his cards down, Dunce jumped on his twin.

“I’m gonna fuck you up!” Spade snarled as punches were thrown.

Rolling their eyes, Mike and Matt each grabbed the one nearest to them, and threw them across the room in different direction.

Dusting his hands off, Mike grinned over at his friend. “Shit, all their talk about fucking each other gave me a god-damned boner!”

“Yeah, blue balls was bad enough. Pants gonna be real tight tomorrow,” Matt snickered back.

“Well, do a good job like you always do Colt,” Dave said. He moved to return to the card game, but was stopped by the clone’s strong grip on his arm. Turning, he met his metal brother’s strong gaze. “Yeah?”

Colt motioned for him to lean near, so that they could talk fairly privately. “You human males have gone a long time without sexual release,” he noted in a low voice.

“Almost 24 months, its no secret,” Dave wondered what the clone was getting at. Colt never discussed this topic, even when he had lain next to Dave to share warmth – and knew that the man was jacking off. It was a bit easier to be oneself around clones. They weren’t judgemental like humans could be.

“We clones can assist you humans in these needs.” Colt’s thin lips curled into a slight smirk.

Dave looked at his weapon clone in slight surprise. “Military clones aren’t designed to be pleasure clones,” he reminded the clone leader.

“Correction, we aren’t programmed for pleasure. However, we are built with the same standard equipment as all clones.”

“O – kay,” Dave hesitated. He glanced at the Megatron clone, trying to imagine him on his knees, begging for dick. Ewwww, not a pretty vision. Shaking himself off, he shook his head. “Thanks Colt, I know you’re just trying to help out in this predicament, but we can…”

Colt cut him off in mid-sentence. He found the idea of submitting to penetration equally as repulsive. It seemed – subordinate – not something equals did. “I do not necessarily offer my own services.” He nodded towards the pair of bickering cassetticons. “However, they are apparently both in need of a good fucking.” He said this fairly loud, ensuring that everyone in the room would hear him, which of course, they did.

At first, everyone thought he was making a joke, including the twins. They fell out, snickering uncontrollable for several minutes before catching their breath.

“Good one Colt!” Tim gave him a thumbs up.

“Yeah, for your first try at humor – fucking good job!” Mike kicked Dunce, pointing to where he was supposed to be sitting.

“I was not being humorous in the least. You men suffer from blue balls – they have ports and an admitted need to be fucked up.”

“Shit, you have opened up a whole can of worms Colt,” Dave warned him in a low voice.

“You’re bein’ serious?!?” Scott turned his eyes to the twins. “They’ve got mech pussies – and no one bothered to tell us?!?”

“Keep your dick in your pants Scott,” Dave warned.

Scott stood up, pissed as hell. “I’ve had fucking balls bluer than the ocean for a god-damned year now. An here we’ve got just what we needed sitting in our pockets every day! Don’t fuckin’ tell ME to keep my dick in my pants!”

“Seriously Scott, we ain’t gonna go and start fucking our clones. That’s not what they were bought for.” Dave motioned for him to sit down.

“Why don’t we ask them what they wanna be used for, hmmmm?” Scott challenged. “Hell, the country’s gone to shit. So they probably don’t even have a real ‘owner’ anymore. Why don’t we call them free – and let them decide for themselves?”

Dave sighed, for the last year, Scott had been becoming more and more disillusioned with what little was left of the military, country and life in general – he couldn’t really blame the young private though, life was a bitch right now….

“Let him fuck Dunce, it will calm him down,” Colt whispered in his ear.

“You are so not helping this situation,” Dave muttered back.

“Then let us clones decide. Scott’s argument is logical.”

Hearing Colt agree with him, the private smirked triumphantly. “See Serge? They WANT to decide for themselves!”

“Hey, calm down Scott. We’re all fucking hornier than hell,” Mike waved him to sit down.

“They do have a point though. If the clones want it, why not give it to them?” Matt blurted out.

“I’m the commanding officer, and we are NOT going to fuck government property!” Dave glared at all of them.

Colt shot him down hard, “One moment you call me your brother – the next I’m merely government property.” He turned to the Sergeant, his optics cold. “Which is it Serge? Am I no more animate than a toaster?”

Dave was in shock, he had no answer.

“Got a damn good point there Colt!” Tim ran his hand along Gem’s smooth back, causing the Ravage clone to purr in pleasure. “I think of you as my brother-in-arms Gem.”

The feline rolled over, and put his head over the man’s leg.

“You know Dave, perhaps we should take a vote on this. If not, the clones’ are gonna stay upset – and so are the men,” Mike smiled, always the peacemaker of the group.

“I concur,” Colt added, the strange pulse around his energy core beating harder.

Looking around, Dave knew it was pointless to argue. The squad was becoming more of a survival partnership between them as time went on. “Ok, let’s vote.”

Of course, none of the men voted against the clones being their brothers, that’s what they’d truly come to think of them.

“So,” Scott met Dunce’s optics, “You want me to show you the ropes?”

The Frenzy clone glanced from him to Colt and back. Since Colt had originated the idea, he knew he’d face the clone’s private wrath if he said no. No clone said no to Colt. “Uh, guess so.”

“You’re a sick puppy Scott,” Dave told them as they left the main room in search of privacy.

----------

“Uh, what do I do?” Dunce asked as Scott led him into a room.

“Help me take this top sheet off for one thing,” the soldier was strangely jolly. Not his normal complaining self for once.

The Frenzy clone optic’d him suspiciously; Decepticon clones naturally didn’t trust anyone who suddenly changed temperament. Made the old battle processor want to click right on… His optics never leaving the man, he moved to assist him in taking off the dusty top layer of fabric.

“Now, why don’t you lay down an show me what you got.”

Lying down, Dunce looked up at the man looking down at him. “What do you mean? I got a gun and a…”

“Colt says you got a robopussy too.” Scott’s eyes narrowed in threat.

“Yeah, uh, guess so.” He was making Dunce nervous, very nervous. His eyes seemed hungry…..

“Well, show me.” God these twin clones were dumber than dumb!

Going through his internal commands, the clone made his protective armor slide to the side. The cold air was like a shock against the entrance to his ports. He shivered, not used to having any sensory nodes that were this sensitive.

“You scared - soldier?” Scott asked.

“Uh, yeah. And it feels really weird, the cold air getting’ under my armor there,” the Frenzy clone admitted.

Scott moved to the side of the bed. “Spread your legs,” he ordered. He wanted to check this pleasure equipment out – before he dared stick his cock in it.

Dunce did as he ordered, shivering even more. “Ewww, reallllllyyyyyyy weird!” It was like a rush of cold shooting into his very core down there.

“Don’t worry, you’ll warm up with my hot dick in there,” Scott promised. Running his hands along the clone’s pelvis, he let his fingers drift down to the dark opening that matched the position of a woman’s vagina. At least the clone had two holes, made it seem less gay this way. Rubbing his fingers at the entrance, he felt the clone’s internal heat flowing over his fingers. Good, it’d be warm too. Make it seem more real too.

Strange cascades of sensation rolled over Dunce’s processor. Yelping, he tried to close his legs in order to stop it before he was overwhelmed.

“Leave them open,” Scott ordered.

“B-but it makes me feel real weird.” Dunce left his legs open though, Colt would kick his dentals in if Scott told him that he’d disobeyed.

“It’s supposed to – the first few times. Then it feels so good that you can’t stop wanting it.” Lifting a finger to his mouth, Scott put some spit on it.

“It’ll feel good? You promise?” The clone squeaked as a finger was inserted. It felt so strange to have something inside him there.

“Sit up,” Scott said. He kept his finger inside the clone’s tight slit, working it in and out of him. As the clone sat up, he took his lips, trying to ignore the fact that he thought of Dunce as a male.

Shivering, poor Dunce’s meta was now assaulted by two unexpected sensations, the strange gliding of finger over sensory bundles and the man’s tongue gliding over his own. He froze, his meta not having the proper programs to decipher all of the sensations into pleasure.

Feeling the clone go stiff, Scott pulled away. “What’s wrong?”

“T-too much input!” Dunce whined and put his face plate in his hands.

Pulling his fingers out, the soldier stared down at the pitifully confused clone. He had thought this would be an easy lay. All the guy had to do was to lay back and take it. He hadn’t expected him to get so emotional about it. “Ok, ok Dunce, calm down.” Wrapping his arms around the confused clone, he rocked him for a few minutes until he calmed down.

“Colt’s gonna kick my tailpipes in!” Dunce wailed when he finally realized the man had stopped.

“Shhh, be quiet!” Thinking quick, Scott came up with a plan. “Tell you what Dunce, just lay down again.”

“O – okay,” shivering, the clone did as asked.

“You could handle just the input of my fingers – right?”

“Yeah, well, it felt real weird.”

“But you could handle it. Just couldn’t handle doing that and kissing too – right?” Scott fished in his pockets, looking for his handjob lube. Every good soldier carried some.

“Yeah, two things are too much.”

“Alright, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll just give you input right here tonight. Can you handle that?” Finding his lube, Scott squeezed out just a little onto his fingers.

“Think so.” Dunce felt relieved. The man wasn’t mad. He could still somehow please him – and not overload his meta with too much input that he wasn’t programmed to handle.

“Ok, here I come with the finger again.” Scott smiled at the clone while he slid the slick finger inside him. “Now just process it at something good, ok?”

Dunce grabbed some of the bedding beneath him, trembling as the strange sensations washed over him again. “Feels good, feels good, feels good, feels good,” he began saying over and over again. If he said it enough times, maybe he’d start feeling it that way.

“Ok Dunce, don’t say that aloud. Just think it.” It was hard enough to focus without the scared clone saying that over and over again.

Snapping his dentals shut, the Frenzy clone whimpered as the man worked another finger inside him. It felt tight, too much.

“Don’t worry, you’ll stretch,” Scott said, as much for himself, as the clone’s benefit. The robopussy was tight. Very, very tight! Slowly and carefully, he slid his two fingers in and out of him, trying to warm him up. He had to stop and add more lube to his fingers after a while.

“Don’t the pleasure clones release lubricant?” he finally asked the clone.

“Yeah, think so,” Dunce was finally relaxing a little. His meta starting to get used to the strange sensations that Scott was causing.

“Well, why don’t you release some?”

“Uh, I don’t know how,” Dunce admitted.

“Shit, you telling me that you need a special program for that too?” Scott squirted more lube on his fingers and slid them back in the clone.

Dunce nodded, then squealed as another finger was added to the others. “You didn’t warn me!” he accused.

“Sorry bout that,” Scott still couldn’t believe that these clones didn’t know how to feel pleasure of all things!

Spreading his bent legs wider, Dunce tried to make his port wider too. It was almost painful to have three fingers sliding in and out of him, but a weird kind’ve pain. Not like being shot or hit or punched or anything.

As Scott felt the robopussy loosen, he unbuttoned the front of his pants, allowing his hardening cock to spring free. “Ok Dunce, this is going to feel real weird at first. Most girls say it hurts the first time. But it’s been so long – that I probably won’t last even five minutes. Can you handle five minutes?”

“Five minutes? But yesterday you told a story where you fucked a girl all night.” Dunce’s optics opened wide as he saw the man’s engorged member. THAT was supposed to fit inside HIM?

“That’s just man talk Dunce. When it’s been a long time since we last had sex – we don’t last long at all. Can you handle it?” Scott was beginning to wonder, when the clone saw his hard on – his robopussy just about clamped his fingers off at the knuckle!

“Five minutes – you promise?”

“Yeah, probably less than that if you relax and moan like you enjoy it.”

Dunce let his head fall back. He commanded his chassis to relax and go almost limp. “I’ll try. Five minutes – right?”

“Yeah, once I’m in all the way and start thrusting.” Scott began to coat his throbbing member with lube. “Now, when I tell you to, wrap your legs around me and start moaning my name.”

“Ok.” Dunce tensed as he felt something stretching the entrance to his port.

“Relax, or it’ll take longer,” Scott warned him. He felt the port loosen, and slid a little further in.

“It .. hurts…” Dunce whined. He tensed up again.

“I warned you, the first few times it’ll hurt – then you’ll loosen up and it’ll feel incredible!” Scott waited for him to relax again. Damn, if he hadn’t thought of these clones as being alive and emotional – he sure did now!

“Promise?” Dunce squeaked.

“Promise,” Scott replied. He slid further in as the clone’s entrance loosened again. Finally, he was all the way in. “I’m going to sit still for one minute, let you loosen up.”

Dunce mewed, his head thrown back, his meta concentrating on the promise of five minutes. Sensory overload threatened to overwhelm his unprogrammed meta. “Scott?”

“Yes Dunce?” he moved his hips just slightly, the warm tightness clamping down on his length.

“Too much input,” the clone whined.

Scott sighed in exacerbation, he was being as patient as he could! “Shit Dunce, tell me what will happen if you continue to experience too much input?”

“Automatic shutdown,” Dunce whimpered as the man shifted inside him again. His port sensory nodes firing data input to intense for his meta to fully process.

“Isn’t that what pleasure clones are supposed to do when they cum?” At least that was the rumor Scott had once heard.

“It is?”

“Yeah, it is. So don’t be afraid of the shutdown. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

A moan left Dunce’s lips as he wrapped his legs around Scott’s hips, forcing the thick shaft deeper inside him.

“What are you doing Dunce?” Scott’s toes curled as he felt a little pre-cum leave the tip of his cock.

“It’s been over a minute. You said you’d last less than five after that,” Dunce replied, his optics pleading with Scott to keep his word. It felt so strange to have the man inside him. So overwhelmingly strange!

“Ok then, moan my name. Tell me that you like it!” Grabbing the clone’s hips, Scott held him still as he began to thrust into him as gently as he could stand. His entire body tingled as the tight robopussy gripped his length with each thrust. It was warm, tight and wet. Everything a man needed when it came to release!

“Eeeeeek!” Dunce bit down on his lip, not totally prepared for the act of interface. Then he remembered Scott’s order on how to make sure he finished fast. Twisting the covers in his hands, he threw his helm back. “Mmmmmmm, Fuck me Scott….. Scoooootttttttt mmmmmmmm, yeah, uh, mmmmmmmm, fuck meeeeeeeeee……”

As the clone began to act, Scott increased his tempo. “Shit, you’re so tight… So fuckin’ god damned tight!” he moaned with each hard thrust.

Too much input! Too much input! Warning sirens were going off in Dunce’s meta with each stroke. His moans changed to hoarse static as his optics began to loose focus. His systems were shutting down! He panicked at first, tightening up his linkages as he fought to stay conscious.

As the clone tightened up, Scott’s fingers dug into his hip servos. God, he was so fucking tight when he came! It was like the robopussy was trying to milk him dry! His entire body began to tremble with the oncoming flood of release that was beginning to course through his balls and cock… His tempo increased to a fury, and he pounded ruthlessly into the overloading clone.

Dunce was losing the battle to stay conscious. His meta just couldn’t handle the flood of input that Scott was generating. With a final grunt of defeat, his optics went dark as his meta spiraled down the cavern of darkness.

Just as the clone went limp, Scott felt the heat of his release spray into the clone. Thrusting a few more times, he let the tightness suck the last drop out of his sore balls. Standing limply over the clone, he kept his cock deep into the inviting hole as he felt it ever so slowly begin to go limp.

Light flooded into his meta as Dunce rebooted. He still had the strange sensation of something within him down there though. Optics brightening, he met Scott’s eyes. “You said just five minutes.”

“Yeah, I only lasted three. Now I’m enjoying the afterglow. How about you?”

Dunce looked at him, confused. “What’s afterglow?”

“Feeling refreshed, satisfied, stuff like that.”

“Oh,” Dunce considered it for a moment. He did indeed feel refreshed after the shutdown. It was almost as good as a full defrag cycle! “You’re right, I feel, uh, refreshed.”

“Good,” the man smiled at him. He could tell the clone was telling the truth. At least it didn’t feel like forced intercourse anymore. “Now, how does this feel?” He thrust his half soft dick in and out of the clone.

“Better than before.”

“Good?” Scott asked hopefully.

Dunce thought about it. “Yeah, guess so.”

“We’ll try it a different way next stop, Ok buddy?” Pulling out of the clone, Scott smiled at him while he buttoned his pants back up. He had needed this, really really needed this.

Dunce beamed, none of the men had ever called him ‘buddy’ before. “Can we, um, snuggle tonight?” he asked in a hopeful voice. That’s what military clones really lived for. The sharing of warmth in the night…. The press of their partner’s skin against their armor…. The beating of the soldier’s heart – in time to the developing energy pulse around the clone’s core….

“You know what Dunce? You let me have some of this when we have time, you can share my sleeping bag every night!”

Closing his pelvic armor, the Frenzy clone beamed happily. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

------

Section 7: Craving sparks.

------

The group of infected clones hunted. They knew what they needed, and Tron had shown them the direction they must follow. They couldn’t come back without it. Tron had banished them. There was only one way to get back in the gang.

Their optics locked on their Eastern path, they crossed the ice patchwork that was the mighty Mississippi……

--------

Note: Hope you enjoyed it. Rainy day and hands feeling good! So if you want to see more of any group’s action, feel free to leave a review. Heck, leave a review if you read it – I write for those!
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Age of the Machine (Market Comodity 3)