A Break from Maintenance

Xabin Doyarchu

(A fanfic inspired by an animation by Hunter-Husky)

Rotor wiped his brow with the back of his forearm as he paused to assess his progress. A few hours ago, Rouge had come to New Mobotorpolis with her robotic companion E-123 Omega in tow seeking his help, the latter looking severely glitchy and unresponsive. When asked, Rouge deftly and cryptically offered that they were testing out some “interesting” secret programs they had managed to swipe from old databases belonging to the former Dark Legion, but one of them clashed with Omega's base personality algorithms and caused his current state. She had brought the machine, hoping to be able to acquire Cobar's help in removing the program and rebooting Omega's systems, but Rotor explained to her dismay that the former Dark Legion Needlemole was in Albion, helping the Echidnas that had been transplanted there rebuild their society. However, he offered to take a look and see what he could do.

That was approximately 2 hours ago, and since then he had no such luck. The “program”, from what he could tell, was a jumbled mess of different coding attempting to run at the same time, conflicting with each other in a way to cause near-irreparable damage to Omega's systems. He had spent the better half of the last hour just going through each program, pinpointing and shutting down the executable for each one. Even worse, most of the programs didn't make any sense to their purpose or why Rouge would want them: a few were obvious, such as network connections and data transference, but others...

He frowned as he looked through the diagnostics again, making sure he still saw what he thought he saw. Indeed he did, and that puzzled him; the programs he was staring at, currently, seemed to be related, but the relation didn't make any sense, either – diagrams of Mobian anatomy, activation and control programs for machines he didn't know about but could hazard a guess, based on the aforementioned diagrams, charts on Mobian social behavior, and... Was that a folder marked “teledildonics”? He scratched his head in confusion. Just what the heck was Rouge looking for, with these things? he wondered.

His mind snapped out of its stupor as the diagnostics machine pinged angrily at him. Glancing at the warning it flashed on the screen, he saw what he mused was the problem: the “teledildonics” folder had a hefty program running in it, hefty enough that it was taking up almost all of the available RAM inside Omega, and seemed to be stuck in a logic feedback loop, attempting emergency shutdown but unable to. Reaching over to the computer's mouse, he clicked on the folder to open it, only to be greeted with a cascade of error messages and... other things that made him blush hard just from the sight of them: photos, drawings, 3D renderings, and animations and videos of various Mobians – mostly Echidnas from the Dark Legion, he assumed – having sex with each other... fairly graphical and intense sex, from the looks of things. They were tied into a central network hub in the folder, which controlled three programs: one filtering and feeding transmissions of the content into the Badnik, one analyzing and translating the content into algorithms it could use for the third program, which was for... “reproductive facimilization”. Looking further into the latter program, his blush deepening, the pinniped discovered two distinct things: one, the program was controlling an unusual but familiar device contained withing the crotch plate of the Badnik, and two, that it was in a state of blue-screen; apparently, Rouge got in over her head with whatever “experiments” she was performing with Omega with this new tech, and attempted an emergency termination of program, but only got so far as to crash the reproductive program while leaving the other two programs running, attempting and failing o continue to feed and translate into instructions the – for lack of better description, porn – into some sort of physical automation for whatever the device she had hooked up to Omega.

Rotor couldn't help bug crack a wry smirk at what he saw. Dang, gal, he thought to himself, snarkily, And I thought Cobar was kinky as Chaos... Cracking his fingers in readiness, he rebooted the reproductive program, hoping to be able to shut it down properly, along with the other programs in the folder. With a dull whirrr, Omega's systems wound down and shut off, before coming back on with a beep. As he monitored the robot's systems as they came back online one at a time, he started noticing a faint metallic clang! coming from its crotch plate. Only imagining what it could be, and not wanting it to damage Omega further, he reached into his tool belt and, with screwdriver in hand, went to undo the bolts holding the plate in place, hoping to free whatever it was that was banging its way through. However, just as he released the second to last screw of the cover, it swung away, and a large, semi-robotic, semi-rubber penis shot out from behind it and bopped Rotor square in the nose, much to his shock. Recoiling back in surprise, he saw that the phallus was connected to a piston, complete with two round spheroids that resembled testicles connected by fluid tubes to the shaft, and that it was both pulsing in a somewhat realistic manner, and thrusting gently into the air, as if eager to be pleasured.

Recovering from his initial spook, Rotor looked back over to the screen and noticed that the reproductive program was in standby mode, ready to be activated but locked so that, unless it ran its course, it could not be deactivated. So, it has to go through its cycles, first, before it can be shut down, Rotor thought to himself, tapping a finger absently against the thick, long phallus before him, eliciting a small quiver from the rubbery and metallic shaft. No wonder Rouge was having such a “hard” time trying to cancel it, and why Omega came to be in this situation. Interesting... He considered just letting the program run its course, unaided, but a sudden angry beeping drew his attention to another pop-up window with instructions: “Orgainic signature detected. Please mount machine to begin program.”

That brought a slight frown to the walrus' snout. So, it can't be auto-ran like I thought it could, hmm? He looked around, sighing in a fit of frustrated pique, then glanced down as he felt the blood rushing to his own penis, unsheathing his sizable 10 inch length. I guess there's no way around this, he sighed, removing his jacket, bandoleer, shoes, and gloves and maneuvering himself so that his anus lined up with the thrusting shaft. I just hope Omega can forgive me for using him as a fucking machine, this time, and I'll have to give Rouge a stern lecture on tampering with Omega's systems like she had... Apparently, with the heat and wetness of his anal ring almost touching the mechanized cock, it suddenly sprung to full life, causing the piston attached to it to start slowly moving back and forth against it. Rotor winced as the thick head started hammering its way into his butt, his hands reaching for anything solid to grab onto to keep himself from being knocked off by the force of the thrusts; one hand latched onto a thick metal cable hanging from the ceiling, while the other hooked onto a handle-like bar connected to Omega's right shoulder armor. With a sharp, deep breath, he eased himself down on the shaft, hoping that it wouldn't take long for him to “get off” the program and cause it to deactivate.

The walrus gasped as the thick head of the robo-penis suddenly thrust deep into him, the conductive touch of skin to metal and silicone somehow triggering something in the program's coding, causing it to start breeding him slow and deliberately. The shaft was arguably as large as his was, just as long as possibly as thick as his own 3 inch girth. Rotor mouthed a silent prayer of thanks to Cobar for his size-king tendencies helping teach him how to take bigger and girthier shafts than this. As he felt the mechanical penis within him starting to speed up, he groaned in pleasure, looking down at his own penis, rock hard and drooling pre, as it bounced against his belly. Smiling a little to himself, he leaned back against Omega, hands still firmly grasped to their anchor points, as he literally sat back and enjoyed the ride.

And ride he did, indeed, spending a good half-hour in a slow reverse-cowboy with the robot, each pulse and push of the mechanized meat between his asscheeks drawing out groan after moan from the walrus. To his surprise, about halfway through, he felt some sort of liquid lubrication seep from the tip of Omega's unauthorized shaft and trickle into his guts, much like it would if it were a real penis dribbling pre within him. Rotor's own dick was similarly slathered with his own organic lube, the precum shooting out from his cock's fat tip in thick globs onto his belly, chest, and down his shaft. It was pleasant, intense, even, but Rotor seemed to want more; he had fucking machines and large vibrators fuck him, before, but this... The sheer tabooness of riding a friend, even if Omega wasn't aware of it (or, rather, Rotor hoped he wasn't aware of it), combined with his own love of large toys and rough fucking made him eager to climax, to have his anus wrecked by this monster dong.

As if sensing his desire, and on cue, the program ramped up, the pistoning of the shaft within him growing faster, harder, and more brutal by the second. The lubricant that spilled within him seemed to increase in volume, as well, his insides becoming slowly filled with the liquid. As the machine quickened its pace, Rotor found himself in heaven, his mind blanking to the world around him as he solely focused on the wonderful, delectable shaft pounding away at his backside. Faster, harder, rougher, Rotor couldn't keep track of how long it was since he started this perverse program, so overwhelmed in the euphoria of sex that it suddenly shocked him when, with one last brutal push, the dildo hilted itself within him, sending gush after gush of warm, thick fluid into his intestines. That was the final straw for the pinniped, as he gave in to the demands of his aching prostate and groaned loudly at his own erupting orgasm. For a good five minutes, both comrades – one flesh and blood, one mechanical – stayed like that, pumping their own unique brand of “seed” into and onto Rotor, who was in a near-total coma due to the bliss he felt from such a powerful orgasm.

It was, then, much to his surprise when a voice not unlike Omega's came from the diagnostic machine's speakers, stating that it was “resetting”. And indeed, the flow in his backside stopped, and the dong retreated back into the crotch unit of Omega, slick with anal juices and its own lubricants. Rotor panted as a gush of silicone gel surged out of his anus like the floodgates had been opened, Omega's “contribution” to their lovemaking emptying itself out of his bowels and onto the floor. One weak spurt of his penis later, and it was over. Sighing in overwhelming pleasure, Rotor barely noticed a giggle next to the diagnostic machine, only coming to when the source of the giggle broke the silence with a clearing of throat. Blinking, the Freedom Fighter looked over, and was instantly struck with embarrassment as he saw Rouge watching him, tapping a foot in bemusement, her hand on the keyboard; clearly, she had reset the program, once it had gone through its cycles, probably was watching him most of the way through.

Rotor gave a lopsided grin to the thieving bat and shrugged. “I, uh... found the problem with Omega...”

The End