/bootleg/ - Workshop by Spibbles


                                            >When you were a kid you remembered watching those videos on the internet of the guys that built that quadruped robot where they kick it around to see how it reacted.

                                            >You and your friends joked about people fucking it, and you laughed and laughed.

                                            >And now there are fuckbots.

                                            >Uhh... right. We should probably backtrack a bit.

                                            >There were a lot of advancements made since those videos. Nanoplastics, room-temperature superconductors, lab grown synthetic flesh. Technically, they were all the result of prosthetics research. Nobody was really intending to make sex robots, but those advances had very clear applications to the robotics industry in general.

                                            >Disney got their hands on that shit, and next thing you knew they were putting out tiny autonomous animatronic Mickeys and Minnies. Little chibi Moanas, three-foot-tall Rapunzels, and that slut from Frozen that could all sing and dance and entertain your kids.

                                            >As any sane human being could have predicted, it took about three weeks before people started fucking them.

                                            >The Mouse did NOT like that. A shitstorm brewed, and the humanoid models all got pulled. A little too late, maybe, but it gave other companies the opening they needed to break into the business.

                                            >Hasbro in particular smashed that shit like gangbusters.

                                            >Their engineers shat out Transformers and My Little Ponies that took full advantage of the tech. Their products did more than just walk around and sing and read stories like an overly flashy Teddy Ruxpin. You could get a life-size Twilight Sparkle that taught your kids calculus, for Christ sake. Rainbow Dashes that would help you set and maintain proper diet and exercise routines. You'd never seen one in person, but the Celestia model was sturdy enough to carry your kids around and had expansion kits to make her street legal. Stores could not keep that shit on the shelves.

                                            >Best of all, Hasbro didn't have the same meltdown that Disney did when they realized some people were going to be sticking dicks in their products. Yeah, there were obligatory "please don't fuck the robot" type statements issued from corporate, but they didn't seem to care if anyone installed a fake pussy in their Cherilee so long as that Cherilee was bought and paid for through official channels.

                                            >And what did this have to do with you?

                                            >Your name is Anonymous, and you are a Pony Peddler.

                                            >Okay, well, you're a local repairman. A damn fucking good one, at that, and while being a mechanical horse doctor was not a direction you saw your life taking you definitely had to admit that servicing My Little Robots was making you far more bank than fixing laptops and smartphones.

                                            >But you didn't really have time to think about that right now because there was a soft lump of bubblegum pink and banana yellow draped over your arm, gently singing you into wakefulness.

                                            >You cracked your eyes open, gaze flicking from Fluttershy's smiling face to the morning's first rays peeking though the window and back. Jesus, what a wonderful way to wake up.

                                            >"Good morning, sleepy head."

                                            >You ran your fingers through her soft fur, and she pressed her head into your palm.

                                            "Morning, Butters."

                                            >"Breakfast in ten. Why don't you hop in the shower while I lay your clothes out?"

                                            >You rolled out of bed and did a few easy stretches as your little pony activated the shower remotely. Fluttershy hopped down from the mattress behind you and gave your leg a playful bump with her flank.

                                            >"Go on now, scoot."

                                            "All right, all right. I'm going."

                                            >You stripped out of your boxers and made your way to the now perfectly heated shower. What would you do without your Fluttershy? She was...

                                            >Well, she was your first pone. Not just that, she was the entire reason you got into pony sales, service, and repair.

                                            >You'd bought her early on. A husk, really, pawned to you by some bum for a pittance. She looked and smelled like she'd been dug out of a landfill -and probably had been. You hadn't really even given a shit about ponies back then, but you loved tinkering with anything new.

                                            >Pelt all in tatters, synthetic muscle fibers frayed, endoskeleton busted all to hell. Someone had made her internals into externals, obviously looking for some wires or chips they could hock.

                                            >You took her apart completely. Every screw, every servo, every joint, stem to stern. All new musculature, brand new synthskin.

                                            >Speaking of the synthskin, you did not realize that shit came in pale fleshy sheets when you first ordered it. It molds itself to the unit and starts growing fur like a fucking chia pet, which was both fascinating and disgusting to watch.

                                            >Anyway, almost your entire wealth of knowledge about these machines came from breaking her down and rebuilding her. When you restructured her chipset brain, you developed new techniques for jailbreaking stock Hasbro personality suites so you could incorporate third party programs.

                                            >Your Fluttershy is connected to your home network, so she can basically run the entire store by herself. She can do inventory, order stock, perform all your bookkeeping.

                                            >She's more than just a secretary, though. She'd learned and grown a great deal since you'd first reactivated her. She was-

                                            >Burning?

                                            >Shit, something was burning. You poked your head out of the shower, wiping shampoo suds away from your eyes.

                                            "Hey! Is something on fire?"

                                            >Applejack's oh-so-charming Southern drawl answered back. "Everything's fine!"

                                            >Followed almost immediately by Fluttershy's sugary-sweet (and barely audible), "I've got it."

                                            >Everything's fine, she says. Well, it would seem shower time was over. You rinsed, hopped out, dried off, and found the wardrobe your 'better half' had readied for you; loose and comfortable, but snappy at the same time. You could smell bacon and hotcakes now, with a sharp undertone of scorched fur. Fluttershy was already sitting at the dining table, with a small tablet propped up in front of herself. She was rapidly scanning through news and stock sites.

                                            >As you sat down, applehoers herself emerged from the kitchen with a tray full of breakfast delectables and piping hot coffee clamped firmly in her jaws.

                                            >Your acquisition of Applejack hadn't been laced with nearly as much tragedy as Fluttershy. One of the locals had ordered her from a Chinese manufacturer, only to be quite disappointed that the product he'd received was not as advertised. AJ was the quintessential bootleg. Mismatched eyes, off-color fur, constructed from inferior materials. Her personality suite seemed to be from an old First Gen Woody.

                                            >You'd fixed that last one first, because holy hell that shit was creepy. You still caught her mumbling 'there's a snake in my boot' every once in a while, but you couldn't tell if that was a fragment of unpurged code or if she was just fucking with you.

                                            >At any rate, when the original owner found he couldn't return his defective product, he traded AJ to you. You couldn't resell her, obviously -it was mostly just the novelty that had drawn you. She presented a rather unique challenge; an ongoing, uphill struggle to keep her functioning properly. By that time you had been able to purchase 3D printers and the nanoplastic compounds to manufacture a considerable amount of replacement parts yourself. Strut by strut, pin by pin, joint by joint, as each piece failed it was made anew by your own hand. She was indistinguishable from an official Hasbro product by now, but she still had quite a few of her original internal and structural components remaining.

                                            >Original components like the one causing her to limp towards you with your breakfast.

                                            "What happened?"

                                            >Applejack reared up on her hind legs, balancing perfectly as she slid the tray in front of you.

                                            >"'taint nothing, sugarcube. Just a b-"

                                            >"The rotator cuffs in her foreleg blew out and she spilled boiling grease all over herself."

                                            >"Rarity!"

                                            >You ignored the saccharine-voiced marshmallow hiding somewhere on the other side of the couch and gently patted your thigh. Realizing the jig was up, Appplejack heaved a sigh and leaned against you with her legs stretched out over your lap. You palpated her injured appendage, seeking out the damaged area. Shit, that was definitely blown. You could feel bits of plastic and metal rolling around beneath her skin, and muscle fibers were clearly starting to tear. The fur along her now-scowling snout was scorched, and her chest fluff was matted and greasy.

                                            "You should have just let me replace the entire array last week when you said it was feeling stiff."

                                            >"You were busy! It weren't that important!"

                                            "Yeah, well, now not only am I going to have to replace some of your leg, but I'm going to have to shave your chest and parts of your face."

                                            >"Aww, come on! Y'all ain't gotta do that!"

                                            >You gave her a soft pat on the cheek.

                                            "It won't grow back if I don't. And keep your hooves crossed that the skin underneath isn't melted or I'm going to have to replace whole sections and then you'll be bald for weeks. You remember when we did the full-body replacement and you looked like one of those hairless cats?"

                                            >She grumbled something unintelligible (but clearly embarrassed sounding) and dropped down from your lap.

                                            "Once we open up the store, I want you downstairs and in the diagnostics cradle. We'll go ahead and get full check-up done while we're at it. You're overdue."

                                            >As Applejack sullenly mumbled her agreement, you could feel a soft pressure on your other leg. There was a white unicorn smiling up at you, big baby blue eyes batting in the most charming manner possible.

                                            >"Anonymous!" Rarity crawled into your now-vacant lap, arching her back to nuzzle into your neck. "I am very nearly out of product, darling. We absolutely MUST order more."

                                            "We can pick up some Glossy Aussie later tonight."

                                            >"But Ano~n, I need Peppermint Hippo! It's the only one that gives me the bounce and volume I absolutely require to look my best."

                                            "That shit's expensive, Rares. It's like fifty bucks a bottle, and you already spent your beauty budget on that blue qipao."

                                            >"The dress was for me but my mane is for EVERYONE, darling. You know how many people come in to bask in my radiance and end up making a purchase. They expect me to be at my utmost magnificence!"

                                            >Ah, Rarity.

                                            >Rarity was not like your other two. You actually had a bit of a history with her before she came into your possession.

                                            >There was a rich family living out in the hills, the Whitworths. They'd bought the finest top-of-the-line Rarity model for the spoiled little shitkid, and rich brats being rich brats, Rarity was not particularly well taken care of. She found her way into your care fairly regularly.

                                            >Then came the day daughter dearest lost interest in her Rarity. Mrs. Whitworth decided that having a tiny horse capable of talking for hours about couture would make for a nice centerpiece to entertain her party guests, but eventually even that fell out of vogue. As such, the buck passed to Mr. Whitworth.

                                            >Mr. Whitworth was fun.

                                            >Also, apparently a huge perv. A huge lonely perv.

                                            >You'd installed sex suites before. Simple, affordable vaginas mostly. A few full packages, a horsecock or two. Mr. Whitworth went whole hog with that shit. You basically had to restructure Rarity's entire undercarriage to fit the customized musculature enhancements and adjustable teats he wanted. The most expensive, realistic synthflesh vagina and anus you'd ever seen, a completely reworked oral assembly, everything. She was a literal fuckbot.

                                            >You don't think the poor guy even got to use her. Mrs. Whitworth brought Rarity back to you the day after her husband had picked the pony up, with a putting wedge shaped dent in the side of her furry little head and an eyeball missing. You got her for a song.

                                            >And now you had that little white fuckbot wiggling her ass in your lap, trying to seduce you into buying her expensive mane care products.

                                            "Ugh. All right, look. Later tonight we'll sit down and see if we can find a cheaper supplier. No promises though."

                                            >Rarity squealed and offered you a wet smooch on the side of your face. "Ah, magnifique! J'adore mon maitre!"

                                            "But!"

                                            >You punctuated the word with a full-handed clap on her ample fanny.

                                            "Only if you go help Applejack clean up in the kitchen."

                                            >"Ugh! Fine!" She slid from your lap and headed the direction Applejack had gone before her, hips swaying just enough to give you saucy little peeks under her tail as she went. "You best be careful or you'll negotiate yourself right out of a happy ending, mister."

                                            "You know I don't like egg rolls, Rarity."


                                            ***


                                            >Bootleg or not, applepone sure knew how to make a fuckin' flapjack.

                                            >She knew because you programmed it into her, but still.

                                            >Belly full of syrupy hotcake, you and Fluttershy had gone downstairs and opened the store for the day. Applejack and Rarity had followed soon after, the former having some small difficulty navigating the stairs while bereft the use of a leg.

                                            >Shy was off dusting the shelves. Rarity had gone back upstairs two or three times to change her outfit, and now rested comfortably in her tiny chaise lounge at the far end of the counter near the register. AJ herself was tucked into the diagnostics cradle attached to your work bench, a USB cable jacked into the hidden port at the back of her skull.

                                            >"I can't believe you really did it." she huffed.

                                            "I said I was going to, didn't I?"

                                            >You gently caressed the freshly-shaven bald spot on her muzzle with your fingertips, drawing a blush to her cheeks. You could already feel the soft peachy fuzz beginning to grow in. Her chest, on the other hand, did not fare so well -the synthflesh had been burned so badly it blistered and you'd been forced to slice out a good portion and replace it. It would take some time to bond and calibrate fully, but she could cover the naked expanse of pale pony skin with one of the many cowboy kerchiefs she had but never seemed to wear.

                                            >You sat down and pulled up her diagnostics readout on the monitor, quickly scanning through the data. Damn, it was worse than you thought.

                                            "Looks like I'm going to have to replace the whole leg, AJ."

                                            >"Guldurn it!"

                                            "I can strip out the bad muscle and put in some simple actuators for now. You won't have the same range of motion, but it'll keep you going until I can get the new one built. Sound good?"

                                            >"All right, all right. But you know you really ain't gotta go to all this trouble for me, sugarcube."

                                            "I know. If I didn't want to go to the trouble, Applejack, I wouldn't."

                                            >You popped open another window and began ordering the parts you couldn't make yourself. As you worked Fluttershy came around the corner, deposited her duster under the counter next to the windex, and hopped up to make herself comfortable in your lap. She watched Rarity lounging for a long while, before breaking the silence.

                                            >"Do you think I should wear dresses, too?" She looked up at you, the angle at which she cocked her head causing soft pink tresses to cover her face. You swept the errant locks back behind her ear with your free hand.

                                            >Behind you, Applejack scoffed. "Rarity has to wear clothes so she don't accidentally flash her cooter at a kid."

                                            >"Cooter?" Rarity turned away, putting her nose up at the indignity of the word. "I have the best and most bountiful garden of marely delights that money can buy and it. Is. Immaculate."

                                            >"She don't need no garden of marely delights."

                                            >"You're only saying that because you can't have one due to your chassis being made of bailing wire and Chinese newspapers."

                                            >"Why you little nag, I oughta-"

                                            >You were saved from their bickering by the bell, literally so, as the chime on the front door heralded the arrival of your first customer of the day.

                                            >The guy had the look of an overworked salaryman to him. Thinning hair, loose tie, recently-pressed suit, eyes were a little baggy. He'd clearly been on his way to work.

                                            >"Welcome, darling, welcome!" Rarity waved a hoof at the newcomer from her seat, a radiant smile blossoming across her face. "Our boutique and all our services are open to you. If you've any questions or needs please do not hesitate to ask!"

                                            >Salaryman gave a little smile of his own, and nervous little wave. "Uhh, I was looking for... mod kits? Uh, conversions?"

                                            >"To your right, dear, about halfway down the south wall. We've got all manner of horn, wing, and cutie mark accoutrements to suit your every need. Why, you could make any mare you desire into your own Alicorn princess!" Rarity smugged a smug smuggery over her shoulder. "Even Applejack."

                                            >"If'n I weren't plugged into this cradle...!"

                                            >Salaryman scratched at the back of his neck. He'd found his way to the mods, but after a cursory glance he didn't seem to be locating what he was looking for. "Actually," he seemed a little embarrassed as he made his way to the counter. "I was hoping you had something a bit more..."

                                            >"...a bit more 'risque,'" Rarity purred. She stood from her seat with a flourish, giving the poor sod the briefest of glimpses at her backside. "Am I correct?"

                                            >"Well, yeah."

                                            "We've got an 'adults only' section for those kinds of mods behind the beaded curtain. Rarity, would you show this gentleman the way?"

                                            >"Of course, of course! Right this way, please!" she scuttled down the little pony ramp from the counter to the floor and guided Salaryman to the door closest to the stairs. Her horn lit up, and the sliding door behind the beads slid open.

                                            >Fluttershy sat back on her haunches, balancing on your knees as she put a foreleg around your shoulder. "What about a French maid outfit?"

                                            "What?"

                                            >"A little French maid outfit to wear. Umm, while I'm cleaning the store? That would be cute, right?"

                                            "We're already buying things for everyone else, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to get you something as well."

                                            >You gave the little yellow sweetie a scratch behind the ear.

                                            "What's this sudden interest in wearing clothes, anyway?"

                                            >"I-it's not sudden! I have my scarf, I wear it all the time! And my little rain booties."

                                            "You do look adorable in those little booties."

                                            >"It's just-" Fluttershy clammed up suddenly as Rarity and Salaryman came back through the curtain.

                                            "Find what you're looking for?"

                                            >Salaryman looked around nervously. "You wouldn't happen to have some parts that were a bit... smaller, would you?"

                                            "All but the cheapest orifices have adjustable muscle control for-"

                                            >Rarity chuckled as she made her way back around the counter. "I believe he means to ask for something filly-sized, darling."

                                            >"Uhh, y-yeah. Sorry, I know it's a weird request."

                                            "Not at all, I've done quite a few similar jobs."

                                            >You picked yellowquiet up and gently sat her on the countertop as you stood.

                                            "I don't stock the filly parts because they all have to be custom fitted based regardless of what you want. With the regular ponies and bigger alicorn jobs it's mostly a case of making a little room, depending on how advanced you want to go."

                                            >You dug out a merchant card from your desk and began writing down product codes.

                                            "But fillies have a different internal setup. You can basically just swap out oral assemblies, but everything south of the border has to be entirely reworked. The chassis needs to have parts cut out and supports added, internals replaced with retooled components, all that jazz for even the simplest of genital setups to fit. It can be a pretty expensive affair."

                                            >You handed Salaryman the card.

                                            "This is the website of one of my suppliers. Those codes there are the most common and reasonably priced models, but they've got pretty much anything you could ever want depending on how much you're looking to spend. Hit them up, figure out what kind of setup you want for your little friend, and come on back and I can get you a total cost estimate. Sound good?"

                                            >"Yeah," he turned the card over in his hand, his embarrassment giving way to a genuine smile. "Yeah, it sounds great! Thanks! I'll get back to you soon."

                                            "Not a problem."

                                            >You, Rarity, and Fluttershy all waved as he headed for the door, the chime ringing once again as he disappeared into the midmorning daylight.

                                            >Behind you, Applejack chortled.

                                            >"Y'all realize he's probably buyin' all that so he can diddle yer little sister, right?"

                                            >"Of course." Rarity plopped her pert bum back down in her lounge. "Sweetie Belle IS the most popular CMC model, after all."

                                            >Applejack opened her mouth to make a comeback, but you silenced her with a stern look.

                                            "Honestly, you two. Bickering like an old married couple."

                                            >"Oh, no, darling. You know very well there's only one groom for me."

                                            >You gave Rarity a playful swat on her flank.

                                            "Find something productive to do, please. Idle hooves are the devil's plaything."

                                            "I can think of a good many things the devil would have me do with these hooves, mon bien-aime." She wiggled an eyebrow at you as she made her way back down to the floor. "But I suppose instead I shall stock the shelves. After I change my outfit, of course."

                                            "Of course."

                                            >Fluttershy rolled her eyes as you watched Rarity trot upstairs. "You spoil her too much."

                                            "I spoil all of you too much, little miss french maid, and it frequently bites me in the ass."

                                            >"You say that, but you'd be lost without us."

                                            >You sat back down and pulled Fluttershy into your lap.

                                            "Got my number on that one, don'cha?"