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Market Commodity

By: Scienceteacher
folder Transformers › G1 › Round Robins
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 72
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Disclaimer: Do not own the Transformers, am not making anything from this story.
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Go Go Gadget 1

Go Go Gadget 1

I own nothing. Plot bunnies belong to StSE, Inspector Gadget belongs to someone who isn't me, and Wheeljack is property of Has-Tak. Takes place in the Transformers G1 universe.

~~~~~~~~~~(This is a squiggly line.)~~~~~~~~~~

"Where the hell is it?" shouted 29-year-old Abby, pacing angrily back and forth, blond ponytail swishing back and forth like an aggravated horse tail.

The question would have been slightly more effective had there been someone to hear it. As it was, her old, black dog Totoro merely glanced up from his napping place in front of the old fire place, ears perking up momentarily before he replaced his head on his paws and fell back into a noisy slumber.

A delivery truck pulled up to the gate, it's driver's jaw going slightly slack as he wondered at the old house. Five stories, at least, it had to have been built in the late 1800's. The mansion was built entirely of stone, arches elegantly crafted, doorway at least twelve feet high with thick, oaken doors carved almost lovingly.

'Hn! Probably built with slaves just like those poor bot clones. Damn spoiled brats buy 'em, probably tie 'em up and beat 'em, too,' thought the trucker, pulling into the long, circular driveway and parking the UPS truck.

Exiting the cab, the large, brown haired man waddled around to the back of his vehicle, opening the doors and pulling out the grey box. Carting it up to the front door, he gave a loud grunt between gasps for breath as he pulled the chain for the doorbell. Before the end of the first ring, the door had been flung open to reveal an excited woman holding a Red Bull in one hand and a pen in the other.

The driver sighed as he told her where to sign. He really didn't get paid enough for this.

Abby waited until the truck was gone to begin opening her package, mentally bouncing off the walls of the stair room.

Finally opening the package revealed a mech curled in on himself, optics dark and face relaxed.

Pulling out the paper, Abby muttered, "Now, where's your - Aha! Found it! Okay, let's see, um, Wheeljack activate. Owner code 59283-R-2983-SDL."

Blue optics on-lining, the Wheeljack clone replied in an almost monotonous voice, "Model 59283-R-2983-SDL activated. Registered owner - Abagail Kolozynski."

Blinking twice in rapid succession, the red, white, and green bot stood up from the crate, looking to the only human in the room, noting that she appeared to be about thirty, a slight pudge in her form making her more suitable to the term 'cute' than 'sexy'. Wheeljack listened as she began to ramble, "Oh, wow, you're even better than I thought you'd be! I mean, you're beautiful! Absolutely beautiful!"

Wheeljack stood slightly taller under the woman's praise. She liked him! Locking her face and vocal harmonies into his meta, he inquired, "Do ya wanna name me?"

Abby looked unsure, and Wheeljack worried he had done something wrong, until she questioned, "Can you have two names? Like a full name and a nickname?"

Wheeljack looked thoughtful for a moment, looking through his files before replying happily, "There's nothin' in my files 'at says ya can't, Masta."

Abby blushed, stuttering, "Please, don't call me Master. It sounds too Dominatrix. Just call me Abby, okay?"

Grinning, the clone nodded, replying in the affirmative.

Sighing, Abby began tossing loose packaging peanuts into the crate, smiling as she did so. While the Wheeljack clone had not been given any orders, he assumed that he ought to at least help clean, since he had been the one to make the mess in the first place! And if it made Ma- Abby happy to clean, then it made him happy, too.

That decided, he kneeled beside her and swiftly and efficiently swept all the peanuts into one shiny hand and dumped them into the crate.

Abby smiled up at him, murmuring a brief 'thank you' as she took the moment to stare at his gleaming legs, noting the beautiful design of the limbs. Two of the wheels that would carry him in vehicle mode were poised on each leg, framing his inner thighs in an utterly alluring way that sent shivers down her spine.

'Well,' she thought as she puled the lid back onto the crate. 'That was part of why I bought him. Having legs that perfect must be a sin somewhere.'

Opening the door to the large house, Abby spoke, "Come on in, and don't worry about the crate. The garbage people will take care of it later. I want to show you to your room."

Nodding, the clone followed her into the old house as she began to ramble, "This house was a gift from my Grandfather, Joseph, who wanted to move back in with his daughter, my aunt, for the remainder of his life, and had wanted to keep the house in the family. Anyway, it's perfect for someone like me, who needs a sturdy house. See, I'm sort of a cross between a scientist and an artist, in that, usually, whatever science project I'm working on is also my next art piece. Unfortunately, a good number of them are slightly explosive, or just plain don't work. That's where you come in. I got you because you were the only Autobot who fit my ideal science partner description to the letter. 'Easygoing', 'brilliant', 'creative', and 'persistent' were in the description for your model, so I decided you'd be perfect for the job. What do you say? Do you want to help?"

She looked hopefully at him as his meta practically spun in joy. She was a scientist! What was more, she wanted him to help her in her studies! The Wheeljack clone couldn't have agreed faster had he been a Blurr clone.

"Great! You know, I think you and I are going to get along famously," she giggled, leading him up a large staircase that lead to a long corridor with numerous doors all spaced approximately twenty feet apart. As she arrived at the first door on her right, she turned to him and related, "This is my room. You can come in any time, but if you do, knock before you enter, okay? Just to give me some warning. The one across the hall is your room. You can go check it out if you want."

Something tugged at the back of his meta as he gazed at the doors to his room, and he looked like he wanted to ask something, but nearly forgot it as she opened the doors to his room, revealing a spacious dormitory-like dwelling. A high ceiling connected to three long windows that allowed sunlight to shimmer across the room, revealing a granite table with several clean beakers, a Bunsen burner, eye droppers, and a Mac book Pro (C). On the opposite side of the room was a large, redwood bed with a green comforter, white sheets, and an array of red pillows. Beside it was a small bedstand with a single light and a book entitled, 'Einstein's Theory of Relativity: The Argument'.

The Wheeljack clone's mouth would have fallen open had he not been wearing a face mask. As it was, thoughts raced through his meta at an astounding speed. Was all of this really his? Why would his master give him so much? Speaking of things his master gave him, the clone still lacked one important component: a name.

"Masta, is all o' this really fa' me?" he breathed, looking to the blonde for instruction.

She looked amused as she replied, "Yes, it is. And I thought I asked you to call me Abby. That is my name, after all."

Wheeljack's headfins briefly flashed pink in embarrassment before he questioned, "Abby, what's ma name?"

The woman's eyes went wide as she smacked her forehead with the heal of her hand, shouting, "I can't believe I completely forgot to name you! I'm sorry, I totally spaced out. Please, if I forget something like that again, feel free to badger me about it, okay?"

The clone nodded. Obviously his master was forgetful, but he didn't mind. It was nice to know she needed him and his help.

"Okay, so your full name stays Wheeljack, but your nickname is Gadget, like Inspector Gadget, 'kay?" Abby announced, glancing at Gadget to see if he liked his name.

A nod and a smile was her first indicator of his appreciation before he answered, "A inspecta' who uses his inventions to solve crime. I like it!"

And locking the names in his meta, he followed his master as she gave him a tour of the house.

As they passed the greenhouse, Gadget noticed a pink door above a tall metal staircase. Asking his master what was in that room, she gave a nonchalant shrug and replied, "I wish I knew."

He wondered if his master would mind if he went to explore it. Making up his meta as Abby excused herself to use the restroom, Gadget began to ascend the old staircase.

It quivered under his weight, the old iron groaning in protest to the sudden use, but Gadget was determined to answer his master's curiosity. Grabbing the outer rail of the suspended spiral staircase, the clone trudged on, ignoring the disdainful shrieks from beneath his feet. He was almost there -- just thirty more steps! He was so close to the top, to revealing the answer to his master's question! She would be so pleased with him!

"Gadget!"

The cry tore his meta from its focus on the doorway and he looked down to see Abby racing over to the food of the staircase. Placing one hand on the rail, she shouted, "Gadget, get down from there! It's not stable!"

Not stable? So it could break? Was that what she was worried about? Was she mad at him? He was sure he hadn't broken anything!

Nodding hurriedly, he began down the stairs, his helm bowed in shame, when a sudden, metallic 'twang' reached his audios. Abruptly, he was falling along with the stairway as it began to pancake atop his frame. Feeling himself crushed between the layers of wrought iron, his first thought was to check for Abby.

The woman was crying hysterically infront of him, tugging on his arm, her screams garbled by his smashed audios. Running a quick scan revealed her as traumatized, but otherwise unharmed. Relief flooded his body and he allowed himself to slip into solar recharge.

~~~~~~~~~~(This is a squiggly line.)~~~~~~~~~~

His optics came online first, shortly followed by his audios, then his glossa sensors, olfactory, and finally his sensory net. Two females stood at his bedside. One he recognized instantly -- Abby -- the other was a brown-haired female, approximately thirty-seven years old, she was packing tools into a red box as she spoke to his master.

"His recovery systems will take it from here, but he's not to leave this bed, or do anything strenuous, for at least three days, preferably a week. Got that?" inquired the older female. Abby nodded, her face red and puffy -- she had been crying.

Of course she was crying! Wheeljack berated himself as the dark-haired woman left the room, presumably to go home. He broke the staircase to the secret room. Now she'd have to wait even longer to discover its secrets!

Sighing guiltily, he locked his optics on her hand as it rested on his bed while she seated herself beside him. Opening his mouth (His face mask was gone. Had she taken it away as part of his punishment? Of course he deserved it. He'd broken a staircase that had to be at least a hundred years old. What else was taken away? What else did he deserve to lose?), Gadget sincerely intoned, "I'm sorry, Master."

Abby sniffed a little, sitting still by his side as if she hadn't heard him, until he felt her arms around his neck and her body on top of his own, her tears coating his chassis as she sobbed, "Dear God, Gadget, I thought you were dead! You were leaking so much, and it was everywhere, and you wouldn't wake up, and the stairs just kept crushing you! I was so scared!"

He had frightened her, too? Well, if that didn't warrant him losing her, he didn't know what did.

"I'm sorry, Master. I didn't mean ta break th'staircase. I know it must've mean' a lot ta you. I jus' wan'ed ta be able ta tell ya what was behind the door. 'm sorry I failed," Gadget murmured, not daring to meet her eyes as he combed his fingers through the tangled mess of her hair.

Abby sat up, staring into his blue optics as she spoke sternly, "I'm not mad, Gadget. I was worried you were hurt! Do you realize that you could have been killed by that? I don't want to see you die! Promise me, Gadget, Wheeljack, that you'll ask me first from now on before you go 'exploring' someplace in the house I haven't been. Usually, there's a reason, and a good one at that. Like that it's dangerous. Yes, it would have been nice if the stairs were preserved, but, really, I'm not even worried about that. Don't ever do that again, okay?"

She wasn't mad at him? That was good, he wasn't sure what he would do if she was.

"Okay, Masta'," he agreed, reaching up to keep stroking her head.

She caught his hand and brought his fingers to her lips as she whispered across their tips, "And I thought I told you to call me Abby."

Gadget groaned as she suckled the tips of his fingers, one after another, planting kisses on each digit before moving on to the next, bestowing similar attentions upon it.

"Cheryl said you can't do anything strenuous, so that means no real sex. However, I've always been curious as to what it was like to give a blow job, so if you promise to bea very good clone and stay very still, I'll promise to do my best to give you a proper first overload," Abby breathed against Gadget's palm.

The clone just nodded dumbly as she pulled the comforter off his healing body, slowly kissing her way up his arm to claim his lips in an inexperienced kiss, her nose bumping against his a few times before she opened her mouth, letting the inventor 'investigate' her mouth's unexplored caverns. She moaned into his open mouth as his glossa began to tenderly rub against her smooth tongue, tasting something dull, sweet, and warm.

Pulling back to gasp for breath, Abby murmured, "My first real kiss, and it's with a clone. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. You're an amazing kisser. If I was standing, I think I'd have about collapsed."

Gadget beamed, the knowledge that he was her first real kiss causing his chassis to puff out slightly in pride.

Abby giggled softly, giving his lips one small nip before trailing kisses down his neck, chassis, and stomach. Reaching his codpiece, she spoke, "I've seen a number of pornos, but I've never done this before. I'm a virgin, really, for just about everything. Kissing, vaginal sex, anal sex, blow jobs, just about everything."

Gadget didn't mind. If he was her first time for all those things, he would just have to try and make it an experience to remember.

Coherent thought failed him as she planted soft kisses all over his crotch plating, then down the inside of one thigh, licking behind one wheel to taste a clear, tasteless liquid behind it. She kissed back up his thigh, pointedly avoiding his crotch, before repeating the process on his other wheel.

Groaning, Gadget squirmed beneath her ministrations only to have her stop completely and look embarrassedly at him.

"Um, how do I, y'know, get your, um, equipment out?"

Gadget smiled, retracting his codpiece as he questioned, "Dimensions?"

Abby's eyes got wide, and she asked, "Um, could you make it kinda small? I mean, will it give you the same amount of pleasure regardless of size? Or do different sizes make it feel different?"

Gadget answered patiently, "It'll feel wonderful no matta' what size. How about ya start jus' below standa'd, sound good?"

Abby smiled thankfully, nodding as the bonding cable expanded to five point seven inches by two point six inches.

Lips parting slightly as she gawked at the sight before her, Abby made a mental note to ask how the hydraulic pump worked for his cable.

"Can I try something I saw on the internet?" she asked, recalling how that particular porno had left her tingling for what felt like days.

"Ya can do whateva' ya feel like, Abby. I'm yours," answered Gadget, parting his legs to allow her better access.

Gently taking the shaft in her hand, Abby lowered her lips to meet the tip, kissing softly at the slit, encouraged by the groans from the bot below her. Sticking out her tongue, she licked from base to tip, base to tip, all the way around his cable until it was thoroughly coated in her saliva. Then she pulled away.

Lightly pumping the member with her thumb and pointer finger, she looked up at Gadget and almost hesitantly laid out, "When we are not interfacing, you will call me Abby and I will call you Gadget, but during interfacing you will call me Abagail and I will call you Wheeljack. I am the only one allowed to call you Wheeljack, understood?"

The clone grunted before replying, "Yes."

The woman grinned devilishly, gaining confidence at the idea that this was pleasing the clone, "Yes, what?"

The lustful tone her voice took on was a turn on for the inventor, and he moaned, "Yes, I unda'stand."

Abby nipped gently at the tip of his bonding cable, eliciting a cry of pain and pleasure from the bot below her as she prompted, "Yes, I understand, what, Wheeljack?"

"Yessss, I unda'stand, Abagail!" he shouted, feeling her take the tip of his bonding cable into her mouth, warm and wet, and he felt his overload approaching. Suddenly all touch was gone from his pelvic region. He groaned in protest, but remained still like she had instructed him.

Her mouth was on him in a flash as she infiltrated his metallic orifice, taking in the smoothness of his glossa, the warmth of his mouth, the perfect curve of his dentals. Her hands pressed against his chassis, smoothing over the new paint that covered that portion of his body.

As his body cooled, overload drifted away from the realm of the easily attainable, and Gadget moaned unhappily.

Grinning at him, Abby drifted back down to his bonding cable, taking it entirely into her mouth, and moaned, sucking harder and harder as she let her tongue gloss over the smooth ridges of his member until she felt it twitch in her mouth and begin to spurt at the back of her mouth, spraying mineral fluid all along the back of her throat as Gadget arched beneath her, moaning helplessly as his overload raged, systems shutting down in rapid succession to begin defragging his processors.

Abby swallowed, smiling happily as she recalled that she had read somewhere that clones need to defrag after an overload. Her right hand drifted down to her short, blue skirt to lift up the edge and let herself tease her already swollen clitoris, moaning happily as she felt the wetness between her legs grow rapidly, soaking her panties and the two fingers that played with her lips.

Leaning back, she continued her ministrations, feeling her own orgasm building. Suddenly, her hand was pulled away from her panties by a warm, metallic hand. Gadget licked her fingers clean, savoring the sweetness of her fluids.

Looking into Abby's eyes, he questioned, "Abagail, may I pleasure you? With my glossa?"

Abby looked uncertain for a moment, before something seemed to surface in her mind and she got off the bed, explaining, "I left something in the oven. I don't want it to burn. You stay here, I'll bring dinner up, okay?"

With that she left the injured clone to wonder what he had done wrong.
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