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falloutkinkmeme_backup) wrote2018-10-20 09:59 pm
falloutkinkmeme_backup) wrote2018-10-20 09:59 pm
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Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.
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M!Courier/Fisto + James Garrett : Robokink, Voyeurism & possible dub-con
(Anonymous) 2011-10-22 10:50 am (UTC)(link)Re: M!Courier/Fisto + James Garrett : Robokink, Voyeurism & possible dub-con
(Anonymous) 2011-10-22 08:54 pm (UTC)(link)Re: M!Courier/Fisto + James Garrett : Robokink, Voyeurism & possible dub-con
(Anonymous) 2011-12-07 09:34 am (UTC)(link)If I play through some of the NV quests that bring me his way, I may end up filling this, but as a warning, it will probably take a long time. I am insanely lazy.
Trial and Error 1/?
(Anonymous) 2016-02-26 05:40 am (UTC)(link)Relationship: M/robot? & slash
Tags: Robot, voyeur & dub-con
Summary: “Garrett refuses to pay for his new sexbot before he hasn't seen that it is safe to use.”
Note: I went looking for this specific fic only to find out it didn't exist...I had to fix this. Also the courier is not actually underage of course, im just using an OC where folks assuming he's a child is an ongoing issue.
--
“...I found the sexbot you were looking for.”
The casino owner jerked his head up from the ledger he’d been focused on; he hadn't noticed the young man approach the counter while he had been carefully tabulating the Wrangler’s recent profits after expenses. The results were looking severely dismal but the boy's abrupt announcement had instantly wiped any and all worries right from James Garrett’s mind.
“You- you did?! Hot damn! I've been looking for one forever!” The courier flinched slightly from the outburst and simultaneous jump out of his chair. James collected himself, embarrassed by his lack of control. “Er- I mean, for the customers, of course. I'm... not into that kind of shit myself. But we've had some ..hard times lately. Stretched thin.. erm,” he coughed, cocking his head towards the account book, dense with calculations. “A sexbot could do a lot.. a whole lot.. for us… For the Wrangler, I mean.”
He glanced back at the quiet boy, who seemed as jumpy and hesitant as he had been a few days ago when he first entered the casino offering his services in exchange for caps and maybe putting in a good word with the rest of Freeside. Truthfully, there was a whole slew of issues plaguing the Wrangler as of late that the Garretts needed help with, but the nervous kid about two sizes too small for that heavy leather duster didn’t look remotely capable of assisting with any of those problems. Though James had to admit he briefly considered a certain service the lad might have been able to do well, since that oversized hat and bandana and overgrown curls couldn't entirely hide what seemed like a fairly pretty face, he hastily dismissed that thought. There were plenty of customers that would pay hefty sums for their specific proclivities, but the kind of sick - sicker than usual - perversions this kid would draw weren't exactly the clientele they cared to draw in nor cater to, especially if he was as young as he looked.
But the courier was insistent on getting work, so Garrett has decided on a less risky request: there was no shortage of special interests from his wealthiest clients but some were fairly difficult to hire, even with a smooth tongue. Recruiting someone into this business was often tricky but a cute face can go a long way, so he told him about the two requested escort roles - a ghoul cowboy and suave talker - desired by some of the highest rolling patrons of the Atomic Wrangler.
He also couldn't help but add a sexbot to the shopping list despite no particular high roller asking for one; even if one of those was pretty unlikely to find, it wouldn’t hurt to ask. The practicality and usefulness of a sexbot for a brothel was more than enough reason, he told himself. He wasn’t expecting to get that demand filled anyways, since he'd already been hunting for years without success.
So the robot was definitely not the request he expected the courier to deliver at all, let alone deliver first; it couldn't have been more than a few days ago that the kid left looking as lost as he arrived. How he could have found one so quickly? James surveyed the casino floor but saw nothing resembling any sort of sex robot delivery, and looked back at the boy. The courier’s eyes didn't quite raise to meet his and he seemed to shift uncomfortably, unsure about answering. The casino owner narrowed his eyes at all the red flags but let him continue.
“The- the robot was in a factory…” he mumbled oddly, rubbing his arm. “...reprogrammed him with holotape ‘n ...upgrades from Ralph… He’s already programmed to respond to your commands.”
Despite his suspicions, he couldn’t help the slight excitement he felt from hearing that. He needed to be hardheaded and practical but he could even feel his voice wobble in the back of his throat while he attempted interrogating. “And where is the… robot? I don’t see it.”
Trial and Error 2/?
(Anonymous) 2016-02-26 06:44 am (UTC)(link)The kid shifted awkwardly again and finally looked up at the owner. “It’s on its way.. I ran a little ahead,” he clarified. Plausible, but suspicious. He looked like he wanted to leave as fast as possible. “..Umm concerning the payment…”
Expecting this, James straightened up and crossed his arms sternly. “We agreed to a price, and that’s what you’re getting. I’ll pay you once the bot is delivered.” The boy winced from the rebuke but nodded, dropping his head a bit to stare down again while he dug the toe of his boot into the wood grain. Another awkward silence, despite the raucous noise of the casino. James attributed this unpleasant mood to his feeling like a parent looming over the child he was going to have to scold for misbehavior, but the angle now gave him a new glimpse under the folds of the oversized bandana that had been covering most of his face and shoulders this entire time.
A deep flush, an open mouth, a soft lip being chewed: the tells any brothel manager was professionally familiar with exploiting and, considering the subject at hand, they were signs that James was also personally familiar with. His frame of mind now veered into a much different feeling of authority, and felt deviant from the thought. Picking up the ledger again, he started scribbling down general cost estimates to keep some shamefully sick thoughts at bay.
“If the robot seems ah.. like a good investment, then we might be able to discuss a higher price,” he rambled as he tallied some maintenance figures against potential profits.
The courier perked back up optimistically. He fidgeted with his sleeve, looking for words. “It- it.. The programming was made by Ralph and he had suggestions on mod- modifications. I ah, tried to do some.. work but.. but it’s a pretty heavy duty piece of equipment to begin with...Built to.. built to last. I think, it’ll be… it’ll be worth it.”
His salesmanship and charisma certainly needed work but it was somehow still working. James could feel some heat rising inside, though it wasn’t clear what was specifically causing it. He tried to be calm and continue the discussion professionally but quite a few thoughts were cluttering his head now. “Custom programming sounds pretty good. My god.. Imagine the possibilities…” He cleared his throat. “Er, it didn’t happen to come with a manual, did it?” He was getting overeager again.
Whatever the kid was about to say was interrupted by the jarring noise of casino doors crashing opened from ungraceful hands and a standard model Protectron shambling inside. Though James watched its approach with full wide-eyed attention, there were now a million new questions running through his mind. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the courier shrink back slightly as the Protectron crossed the room towards them.
“Is this a joke?” He turned to the boy, trying to sound firm. “That’s a protectron.” Though he was aiming for standard disbelief, in the deeper pits of his mind, James could totally imagine how it might work: the protectrons had a certain appeal of their own already, but it still felt so unreal that practicality forced him to think more clearly.
“N-no! It’s..I mean, it’s a protectron, but it’s reprogrammed… It’s got parts… Honest!”
James groaned and rubbed his temple, trying to separate his annoyance with the ridiculous situation from the myriad of mental images the boy and his bot were inspiring. “Look, kid, I’m a serious businessman and that was a serious business deal. I’m not easily swindled.”
“What? I’m not lying!” Suddenly, the courier was the one crossing his arms and frowning. “I’m not swindling you either. I am being serious! I..added a lot of mods... And Ralph made the holotape to reprogram the bot! He’s a protectron but he’s also-” His petulant rant was cut off as the robot reached them.
“Greetings, FISTO reporting for duty. Please assume the position.”
Trial and Error 3/?
(Anonymous) 2016-02-26 10:33 am (UTC)(link)“Let’s discuss this... in private,” he said as nonchalantly as he could, hoping came out with as little innuendo as a pimp could say that phrase with.
He hopped over the bar to lead them upstairs, something he never did during business hours unless there was an emergency. The courier followed him closely, with the robot slowly trundling after them. He could now see why the delivery boy left the delivery behind now; a little credibility to that as least. He wanted to let himself get a little more hopeful again, but the situation was still bordering on the “too good to be true” side; he felt like he couldn’t set aside his suspicions just yet. Not without some confirmation. He closed the door of the empty room behind them and nodded. Yes, that’s definitely sound reasoning, James reassured himself as the lock clicked like a metallic wink.
Turning back to face the other two, he realized the protectron’s frame was far more imposing up close like this. His insides fluttered a bit somewhere between fear and desire.
“Please assume the position,” it repeated, and was starting to sound like a threat. James knew the various models of protectrons somewhat, he always admired their sleek RobCo design and bold, hard edges for one thing, but he was also well aware that they packed some pretty powerful armaments and defenses.
His suspicions started to turn into a legitimate concern; had his personal desires let himself get duped? He knew the kid was poor and desperate for caps, but he had assumed the desire to up his reputation in Freeside - something casino owner James Garrett could provide him - was more important at the time. He wouldn’t try to kill him with a robot, would he? A rewired protectron, with its laser weapons and brute strength could easily do that and so, so much more...
Once again, fear and desire. He tried to brush it off and remain serious about the situation, watching the protectron intently. Even if he was safe from being killed, there was still the chance of blackmail or some other kind of extortion. The Garretts had seen their share of roughness from Freeside alone, so that could very well be a possibility. He reached for the small revolver in his suit as reassurance but his elbow unexpectedly bumps into the boy, troublingly close behind him for a reason James didn’t know. He panicked and spun around, gun in hand.
“What are you trying to pull, kid?!” He shouted in alarm as the kid stumbled back, eyes wide in surprise.
“Wha-?! Nothing!! It’s.. It’s programmed to respond to your command already...!”
The robot whirred in response. “I am programmed for your pleasure.”
His hold on his gun faltered slightly, burning at the reminder. “Kid, if this is some childish prank-” he warned, and the courier’s face darkened again.
“I’m not a kid… Jeez, why won’t believe me.” Ah. Don’t say that, that changes things a bit. The thought flashed through James’ head before he could stop it; one more mental barrier was about to coming down when James saw the kid’s hand hovering over a holstered weapon at his side.
“Not a kid, huh. You look pretty young to me. Young enough to assume you could pull a fast one on me. You’re serious that this thing’s been rewired into a ...sexbot?” The protectron seemed to loom above the tense situation as if waiting for a cue.
“I’m not trying to-” he sighed loudly in frustration. “I’m almost twenty! I’m not pulling a prank, I’m.. I’m trying to sell you a bot, man! I’m not looking for a fight!” His tone was convincingly exasperated but his posture and twitching fingers were projecting a more serious attitude.
Later, James would probably conclude that deep down he had already known by that time the situation was safe for him, and that he must have purposely escalated things as an excuse to turn it into a scenario he may or may not have already fantasized about.
Trial and Error 4/?
(Anonymous) 2016-02-26 02:30 pm (UTC)(link)“So then, I’ll need you to prove it.” He didn’t lower his aim but tilted his head towards the robot.
The young man blinked at him, the deer in headlights expression from a moment ago returning. “Wh-what?”
“Prove that he’s been reprogrammed.” He’d been gradually stirring up inside this entire time, but ordering the kid around focused his motives into something a little more clear, a little more familiar. “Show me.”
The courier stared down his barrel for a moment, mouth still agape but dark eyes flicking cautiously between the gunpoint and the man pointing the gun. He seemed to deliberate for a second, then slowly raised his hands and moved towards the robot. “I’ll.. I’ll show you.”
Its mass towered over him and he stopped a few feet short of it, motioning at it carefully as if its surface was scorching hot. “It’s been… modified with a few extensions, and has room for more.. It’s programming has database of … premade routines… um.. and set actions but.. it can be customized…for.. for-”
“Fisto is programmed to please,” the robot turned suddenly to complete his sentence, startling him out of his terrible sales pitch.
James chuckled, but kept the gun up. “I get all that, but I want you to confirm that he’s safe to use.”
The boy stared with that slight blush returning to his cheeks. James continued, “Unless you already tested him out…”
“N-no, I-! It- he-” he stammered, and flinched again as Fisto whirred to answer for him.
“Servos have not yet been activated. They may require adjustment.” The whirring sounds became more audible, turning into a sexy mechanical purr that was starting to affect James a little more than he could control anymore.
“Really, Fisto? All those new modifications but still untested? That doesn’t sound very safe for commercial services at all.”
“Hardware and software modifications are untested. My safety rating is unknown. Please assume the position for testing.” The opportunity was too ripe to pass up at this point.
“Fisto, hold him in ‘the position’.” He licked his lips, not bothering to hide it anymore. Only having enough time to barely turn as he tried to get away, the courier let out a short yelp as two long metal arms extended from behind and clamped over his arms. James’ breath hitched as he watched the young man struggle for a moment against the unyielding metal hold, thick steel squeezing through the billows of an ill-fitted jacket to firmly tighten around small arms. He lowered his gun and walked a half-circle of admiration around the scene.
The courier looked up at him as he drew closer, but James chose to focus more on his flushed skin than the wide fear-filled eyes. There was guilt, of course, but it was getting quickly buried under a flood of much stronger, more carnal impulses. “Please..” he begged, not realizing how completely counterproductive begging like that was for his situation.
Still, James wasn’t a monster. He holstered the revolver and held up his hands cordially. “I’m not going to hurt you, and if you’re selling me a good product, Fisto’s not going to hurt you either… right?” The kid opened and shut his mouth a bit, at a loss of how to respond. It wasn’t clear whether his slow, stammered responses were from a lack of wits or charisma, or maybe a lack of both, but James wasn’t interested in conversing much at this point anyways. He leaned forward and tipped the brim of his delivery boy’s hat up with a finger. “I’m willing to pay double for your trouble, of course. And help you sort out that messy reputation you’ve got around here. Fair trade, I think. A fully tested product with a proven safety rating is well worth the cost of cleaning up your image, even with all those new.. troubling rumors.” He winked with smile, and straightened up. “So... what do you say? We got a deal?”
**Snicker**
(Anonymous) 2016-03-01 05:43 am (UTC)(link)Um... And possibly poor pimp, too, given what said kid has already survived. If he doesn't like this...
Please, keep writing Anon! I'm interested.
Re: Trial and Error 4/?
(Anonymous) 2016-04-11 06:35 am (UTC)(link)