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Market Commodity	By : Scienceteacher Category: Transformers > G1 > Round Robins Views: 11586 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Do not own the Transformers, am not making anything from this story.

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**Winner’s Luck Pt 1**

**Prologue**

**A “Market Commodity” Story**
**By TurtleDreamer**
**G1 Universe**

Disclaimer: Transformers is not owned by me. “Market Commodity” idea is by StSe. I’m just fortunate enough to get to play in their universes. I don’t own any copyrighted, registered, or trademarked items that may be mentioned in this story.

Thank you, StSe, for the original concept, beta reading and encouragement. Also, thanks for letting me bend the rules for the start of my story. My plot bunny loves you.

Author’s Note: I’ve edited the Prologue to bring it consistent with later, more developed chapters. I fixed formatting where needed, and added some detail that meshes better with the story that ended up developing. Hopefully, I managed to catch all spelling and grammatical errors. Thanks for reading.

**

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CONGRATULATIONS HOPE ERIKSON!!
YOU ARE FRIEND-LINKS’ LUCKY GRAND PRIZE WINNER!!
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“Freakin’ pop-ups….” Hope muttered as she tracked her cursor across the colorful message, and clicked the “X” to close it. It was the third time, in the last half hour, that particular one had appeared on her screen.

She’d almost completed her jewelry component order to Snowy Mountains Bead Cabin, when a bigger and even brighter message took over her screen.

----------------
GUARANTEED GRAND PRIZE WINNER!!
HOPE ERIKSON DON’T MISS THIS
ONCE IN A LIFETIME CHANCE TO
OWN YOUR VERY OWN
LIMITED EDITION CLONE FROM TDI!!!
-----------------

Green eyes rolled behind pewter colored, wire-rimmed glasses, “Pfft….whatever…” Hope closed pop-up number four, wishing that her blocker worked on chat site notifications. “…like I need a freakin’ sex toy.” Unfortunately, she’d just have to grin and bear it.

She’d been grinning and bearing it for two days, now. In order to chat with her friend, Dacey, while she worked—Hope put up with the site’s annoyingly colorful and all-capped messages. Of course, the stupid things wouldn’t have a “Decline” option. On the bright side, she only had about an hour and a half before the offer expired.

“You talking to yourself again?” her friend teased over the laptop’s speakers. Unable to see what was on Hope’s screen, Dacey’s amusement had grown as she listened to Hope mutter unkind things about “crap pop-ups”. This was the first time, though, that she’d heard what the pop-ups were about. “Have you been to a strange porn site, and pick up a virus?”

“No!” Hope stifled a laugh at her friend’s outrageous assumption.

“Anyway…” Dacey continued. “Shouldn’t that have been ‘Like I need ANOTHER freakin’ sex toy’?”

Dacey Greene was a vibrant woman; as immensely comfortable with her sexuality, as Hope was uncomfortable with her own. The two women had met in college, and despite their differences, had developed a strong friendship.

Hope brought the webcam window into the foreground, giving her friend the bird. “Fuck you.”

“Oh…now…don’t be like that…” blue eyes dancing, the petite blonde laughed. She leaned closer to her webcam, leering suggestively, “Unless, of course, you’ve decided to take me and Bryan up on our offer.” Dacey held up two fingers in a “V”, flicking her tongue suggestively at their apex. “You know I’ve just been—aching—for ye-e-ears for a taste of your sweet pussy…” she moaned.

Hope blushed, as the blonde doubled over laughing. She should have known better than to flip the perv off. Really…

“Laugh it up, Dace.” Even though she was embarrassed, Hope loved her wicked friend.

While in college, the Greene’s had enjoyed being swingers; and they had gently—patiently—tried to persuade Hope to join their fun. While Hope believed she’d have been able to stand Bryan touching her; she so wasn’t sure that she would’ve been able to tolerate Dacey, in that manner. The two were a packaged deal: but Hope had never been bi-curious, and hadn’t wanted to hurt either of her friends’ feelings. Hope had been grateful for their love and compassion, but had kept turning them down. They hadn’t pushed her, believing that Hope simply wasn’t ready to explore her sexuality.

Since then, the married couple had curtailed their lifestyle. Parenting had led them to make different choices, as their two daughters became a priority. Though, they would readily admit that they couldn’t wait to kick the last little birdie out of the nest. But every now and then, the couple reminded Hope that their offer to her was a standing one.

“Besides,” Dacey continued her teasing. “You do have quite a toy collection.”

“Indeed I do,” Hope easily agreed. “All of them given to me by you.”

“Well somebody has to,” Dacey huffed. “God knows you won’t buy any for yourself.”

Hope chuckled in response, shaking her head. She reached up to tuck a strand of her silver-streaked, coppery hair behind her ear.

Dacey’s attention was drawn by the motion, and her pretty face became serious, “Warm and breathing with a pulse is even better. Girl, you need to finally get over those issues of yours, and allow yourself have some fun—while you’re still young enough to.”

"Easier said than done,” Hope said tiredly. “Besides, decent men run screaming when I even glance in their direction. It's like they know I'm damaged."

In the webcam window, Dacey picked up an emery board, and started shaping her nails. "They run because of the ‘Keep Away’ vibes that you emit. It's like this impenetrable force field goes up, and nobody can get through."

Hope just couldn’t bring herself to pick-up any old Joe Schmoe. She felt like she’d be cheapening herself, if she went for a careless fuck. God knew she’d had plenty of those offers. Was she so wrong to want more? It’s not as though she were waiting for a ring on her finger.

"If anyone cared enough, they'd have gotten through," Hope stubbornly insisted.

It was an old argument. Once upon a time: she’d believed, with all of her heart, that there was a special man out there who would see past her damage and her defenses. As more time passed, Hope’s aching heart wasn’t as sure as it had once had been.

"Yeah, but that mantra won't keep you warm in your spinster’s bed." Dacey's blue eyes narrowed.

Hope held back a sigh. At thirty-eight, she was still a virgin. In fact, she had never even been kissed. Her mother had drilled into her a litany about what it was to be a “Good Girl”. That, combined with her father’s abuse, had caused her to suppress her natural urges. Dacey and Bryan had been the first ones to whom she had confided in.

The daughter of a gynecologist, Dacey had been shocked and appalled at the level of her friend’s ignorance. She’d made it a personal mission to make sure that Hope was armed with information, even if it wasn’t immediately put into practice. It had been Dacey who had given Hope the sex education books that taught her the how’s and why’s of her body, along with a small vibrator. She’d continued, through the years, to gift her shy friend with toys and books.

Sensing the need to back off, Dacey changed the subject. “So, are you almost done with business for the day?”

Hope ran a small bed and breakfast in Osage Beach, Missouri. She didn’t currently have any guests, and the off tourist season allowed her to indulge in her hobby of jewelry making. Her current order consisted of malachite, blue lapis, gold-tone beads and findings. She planned on making a collar, with matching earrings and a bracelet. It would be stunning when it was finished, and should fetch a good price.

“I would be if weren’t for stupid contest pop-ups,” Hope groused. “I just need to complete my order for jewelry components, and then I need to run some stuff to the post office.”

“Oooooo…sparklies….” A self-proclaimed jewelry-holic, Dacey was practically drooling. She was also one of Hope’s best customers, idea generators, and guinea pigs. ”Finish quick so you can tell me whatcha got!”

Hope laughed and switched back to her ordering window.

She had just finished printing her receipt when her screen exploded. Literally…at least that’s how it seemed to her. There were fire-works with sound effects. The finale of the “1812 Overture” blasted over her speakers.

“HOLY SHIT!” Hope yelped.

“WHAT? HOPE? WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?” Dacey's yell could barely be heard over the din.

Luckily the newest pop-up came with a mute button, which Hope made quick use of. She followed up with the use of her new best friend “X”.

There was a momentary silence broken only by the hum of the laptop.

“What…in the…blue…peeping…hell…was…that?” came Dacey's stunned voice.

“That,” Hope growled through gritted teeth, “was pop-up number five. They've been coming at about fifteen minute intervals, each one more obnoxious than the last.”

“No way…” Dacey breathed.

“Way.” Hope confirmed, as she brought the chat window forward, again.

“Sooo…you’ve been getting multiple pop-ups about a sex toy?” The blonde summarized. “And they’re not viral…” Carefully tweezed brows arched in a prompt.

Hope shook her head and sighed, “Friend Links is having a drawing for one of those clones from DTI. Apparently, I’m a ‘lucky winner’.” The green-eyed woman rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right….and monkeys might fly out of my butt.”

“WHAT?” Hope jumped at Dacey’s shout. “YOU WON A CLONE?”

“Apparently,” Hope replied, shooting the excitable woman a bland look.

“YOU WON ONE OF THE HOTTEST SEX TOYS ON THE MARKET AND DIDN’T TELL ME?” Dacey screeched, leaning in to her webcam. The view from Hope’s side was a webcam window full of one crazed blue eye.

Hope mock glared, “I think you just finished blowing out my speakers.” The blue eye blinked. “You gonna settle down, or do I have to turn down the volume?” Use to the blonde’s antics, there was no real censure in Hope’s voice.

Dacey took a deep breath, settling back in her seat, and visibly composing herself. “Ahem….and you’re going to be accepting this prize…yes?”

Hope silently stalled, fiddling with a paperclip.

“Well…?” Dacey persisted.

“I hadn’t planned on it. Besides,” Hope waved a hand in dismissal, accidentally flinging the paperclip. Her calico cat went to investigate its landing place. “What use would I have for a sex clone?” She fished out another paperclip to mangle. “At least my vibrator doesn’t talk back, and it takes up less room.” Hope watched Colleen bat the other clip under the shelves, and bury herself up to her shoulder trying to reach it.

Dacey snorted, “It’s official—you’re nuts. Only a nutter would pass up on this kind of an opportunity.” A thoughtful look crossed her face that had Hope bracing for impact. “You realize that the clones do have other functions?”

‘Oh, God,’ Hope thought. ‘Here it comes.’ Her fingers tightened on the beleaguered paperclip. Giving up on reaching the other clip, the calico hopped onto Hope’s guest chair.

“A clone would be a perfect companion for you,” Dacey wheedled, “you’re all alone in that big house of yours…”

“I am not alone,” Hope interrupted, stabbing the bent wire in the chat boxes direction. “I have Colleen, and I have my bed and breakfast guests…”

Dacey cut in, “Your cat doesn’t count.”

Hope feigned a miffed expression. She turned to look at the calico, who was lounging next to her. “Don’t listen to her, Baby.” Hope cooed. Colleen flicked her tail in response.

“Okay, she does count,” Dacey conceded, rolling her eyes. “It’s comforting to know that she’s there to kick the butts of any of your guests who get unruly.”

Hope winced at the reminder of a more recent male guest who had gotten a little too friendly, and then got too mean. The vacationing businessman had decided that she should be on the amenities list, even offering her a $2000.00 cash tip. She’d ended up calling the cops on him.

“Just think of a clone as being a big bipedal guard dog,” Dacey persuaded.

“Well….I don’t know,” Hope waffled. Her friend had a good point.

Sensing the indecision, Dacey went for the kill, “I’ve heard the clone’s sexual functions can be disabled. You wouldn’t have to worry about a horny, two-legged dildo chasing you.”

Hope couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image that last part induced. “Holy crap…you are baaad!”

The blonde had made another good point. Hope was hesitant to have “sex” toys interacting with her guests. But if they were “hired” help, with no sexual functions—or abilities—it could work!

“So…how long do you have to accept your prize?” Dacey asked.

“Probably about an hour, now,” Hope replied.

“Well go check it out, girly!" Dacey encouraged. She hoped her friend would eventually use them for pleasure. The clones, in general, were known to be loving and loyal—exactly what Hope needed!

There was faint beeping that had Dacey glancing at her wristwatch. "Oh hey…. I gotta run. Bryan’s car is in the shop. I have to pick him up from work, before I get the girls from soccer practice. Let me know what happens! We'll talk beads later, too. I've got some ideas. Soyanara, Babe!” With a wave and a wink, Dacey logged off.

Hope went to check her Friend-Links in-box.

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URGENT: REPLY WITHIN 48 HOURS TO CONFIRM WINNING PRIZE
Dear Hope Erickson:
You have been chosen in a random drawing pool of all Friend-Links members!
Congratulations! You have won a First Release, Limited Edition Clone TWIN PACK!!!
A Grand Prize provided by one of our main sponsors, DTI!
---------------

Hope followed the confirmation instructions, and was connected to an online sales representative. Thirty minutes later, Hope had her prize acceptance confirmation. She also had a congratulatory PM from one of her on-site friends. Apparently, Friend-Links thought that ALL of her friends needed to know of her winner’s luck.

“Oh, wonderful,” she muttered. “Now my family’s going to know I’m getting sex clones.” Hope removed her reading glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. At least FreakyZ didn’t give her crap. She sent him a thank you, and ended up chatting with him for a short time. He thought it was a good idea to have them programmed to be able to assist her business, and wished her good luck.

Dacey had introduced her to the young man, about a month ago. According to his profile, he was a twenty-five year old college graduate. While he had video and audio feed; he was very shy, preferring to type his responses in chat format. FreakyZ hadn’t done anything offensive or creepy—so the women allowed his anonymity. They treated the lonely, awkward kid like he was one of their college buddies.

Hope logged off and shut down her laptop. Colleen meowed softly as the woman stood and stretched her stiff muscles. At her more insistent meow, Hope grabbed the aging cat up in a cuddle.

“Gotta go, sweetie.” She smooched the soft fur at the base of Colleen’s ear, before placing her back on the chair. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Still wondering if she’d done the right thing, in accepting that prize—Hope gathered her packages, and left to run her errands.
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Market Commodity