Made to Order
by Ursula

Disclaimers: Oh Lord won’t you buy me a Mac 27…Mac 27 concept from the Outer Limits and Chris Carter, Fox Television and a bunch of other folks who are not me own the X Files.

 

Notes: This one is my April Fool Story, but who knows I might write another. It is my national holiday after all.

 

How in the hell Mulder and Scully had talked him into this dinner was beyond Walter. It was crazy, a Mad Hatter's tea party. There was Mulder and his Mac 27 Alex, and Scully and her 'husband', Mack Scully. Then there was Walter, without a partner and caught between mindless lust for the androids and involuntary terror every time either of them moved suddenly. Mulder's Mac 27 for some reason especially made him nervous. He'd had to use his force of will to direct his gaze away from the hands after initially making sure that the android didn't have the palm pilot.

Walter growled, "Why in hell did you have him made so menacing?"

"Menacing?" Mulder mused. "Is he menacing?" The man turned toward his android mate and considered him. The seconds turned into a minute and the minute might have turned into an hour with the evident pleasure Mulder took in looking at his artificial lover.

"Yes, he's menacing and he prowls instead of walking. At least, Scully's is pleasantly domestic," Walter said turning his gaze to Mack, who sat cuddling Jeffrey Scully.

"You shouldn't talk about them as if they can't hear you. The Mac 27s are fully sentient and self-aware," Scully scolded. She sighed as she looked at her perfect mate, a man who would go shopping with her any time, cook dinner, diaper the kid, rub her feet, and who had STAYING power in bed.

Rolling his eyes, Walter said, "Scully, I thought you were a skeptic."

Her blue eyes frosty, Scully said, "I arrived at my conclusion empirically."

Eyes segueing between the two Mac 27s, Walter lingered longest over Mulder's version. He imagined himself turning the tables on Krycek, holding the deliciously squirming body down as he drove his hard shaft into the helplessly open orifice between soft cheeks. He wanted one. He had to have one.

The words were out before he could call them back. "How can I order one?"

Mulder's smirk was as infuriating as ever, but Scully looked as if she understood. Surprisingly, it was Alex, Mulder's Mac 27 who answered. He said, "I can set you up with an appointment."

"Yeah, it takes hours to fill out the forms and take all the tests. They're made to order," Mulder said.

"Seems strange, but okay," Walter agreed.

"Bring an extra pair of briefs," Mulder advised pulling his android lover onto his lap.

* * *

"Now that you know me and I do mean that in the biblical sense," Walter remarked to the Innobotics doctor, "what else do you need?"

The doctor was a slim woman who wore glasses with rose tinted lenses. She wore her auburn hair in a neat bun, spoiled only by a pen shoved untidily behind her left ear, disarranging the smooth sweep of her the style. She smiled in a perfunctory manner and said, "You're the second person to make that joke. Now, the worst is over. We'll just wire you up and run the testing segments to get a read on your response."

Well, first a finger wave and now bondage, Walter thought, wasn't this just like a wet dream! He was wired, his cock was tucked into a sensor-laden sheath, and his every change in respiration was ready to be measured. These people were deadly serious about the matching, leaving no stone untouched in the effort.

Alone in the intimate semi-darkness of the room, it was easy to watch the scenes and fantasize. Krycek-like androids cavorted in sun-lit bedrooms, performed oral sex in basements, and were penetrated in unlikely positions and in settings that were improbable such as on top of a desk and in the backseat of a car. In other scenes, the Krycek-like figures tied large virile men up, rode them like stallions, and grabbed their large ears to fuck their mouths while uttering fascinating and vile things. Walter scrupulously avoided the submissive scenes, punching high ratings for the ones that showed the Mac 27s dominated, fucked into submission, tied up, and controlled. He couldn't wait to get his and show him who was boss. Of course, he would treat him nicely after he had vented a little of his pent-up anger at Krycek. Guiltily, afraid that there might be some anti-cruelty ruling, Walter high rated a few scenes of men necking on balconies and trying to perform tonsillectomies without the aid of surgical instruments. After all kissing Krycek couldn't be all bad…

A few of the details appeared to be discretionary. Walter had liked the long hair look that Krycek had been sporting after he left the FBI. He could just imagine winding all that shining brown mass of hair around his fist as he forced the kewpie doll lips down toward his cock. His Mac 27 would have longer hair than Mack Scully's neat FBI rookie hairdo or Mulder's tough guy's crew cut.

* * *

Anticipation was sweet. Walter spent the time studying his user guide and observing Mack Scully. Mulder's Alex seemed to avoid him although Mulder laughed and said that Walter was just imagining things. It took two weeks before he received the call to pick his model up. Walter's mouth went dry in anticipation as he made his final payment. Well, there went the bulk of his savings, but sometimes you just had to splurge.

Walter had decided on the diminutive name, Sasha, to remind the Mac 27 of his place, which was going to be mostly on his back or on his knees, if not on all fours. Now, they proudly led the Mac 27 into the room.

Hmm, well, there was no complaining about physical perfection. Walter had ordered the Mac 27 with longer hair, about the same style that Krycek had been wearing when he and the other Consortium goons had ambushed him in the hallway. It was Krycek to a 'T'. Same superior smirk on his face, same expressive eyes...

The rest of the interview faded into a blur. Walter signed contract after contract and was rubbing his eyes from reading small print by the time that he was finished. He wished he'd brought a leash for Sasha, but he hadn't quite dared. Well, time enough for a bit of shopping later…

Oh, the uses for a handy creature such as a Mac 27, Walter planned to teach his to do his income tax, read the reports of communication challenged junior agents and for making copies of Mulder and Scully's receipts for their travel vouchers. Department orders now said that the originals had to be kept in a special sealed room ever since the little incident of the mutant slime mold that had destroyed records dating back to 1954. God knows the pure historical value lost when J. Edgar Hoover's collected travel vouchers perished but it caused the chief personnel officer to shave off all her hair and report to a Buddhist nunnery. Walter planned to have his Mac 27 strip naked, copy the receipts, and bring back the copies. There was only the matter of getting Sasha a clearance.

But first, first to enjoy the splendors of a Mac 27 made just for him. They drove home in silence, Sasha staring out the window with an absent expression that Walter recognized from the few office staff meetings that Agent Krycek attended. Well, he would not be bored for long…

As soon as they arrived at Walter's apartment, he pushed Sasha through the door roughly. "Right to the bedroom," he said gruffly.

The creature blinked at him, but swaggered out of the living room and up the flight of steps that led to Walter's bedroom. Springing up the steps like a twenty year old, Walter was happier than he had been in ages. Shutting the bedroom door behind him as if it was the closing of a trap, he told the Mac 27, "I'll undress you."

* * *

The leather jacket, the soft denim that clung whitely to the rounded bottom and the shapely thighs, and bulged with promise in the crotch yielded to his sweating hands. He flung the black briefs over to the dresser and draped the silk and wool sweater over a chair. "Mine," he uttered, "I own your ass at last, Krycek."

His own clothing, he flung to the floor, all neatness forsaken. Grabbing the Mac 27, he jerked him down onto the bed, his mouth ravaging all the sweetness of that mouth. Sasha tasted clean, but not artificial. There was even a cunning hint of salt on the pseudo-skin. The silken lips that warmly greeted and yielded to his were heated, soft, and moist. Whoever invented the Mac 27s ought to be given the Nobel Prize.

Ready now, Walter reached demanding hands for the Mac 27, his cock was so hard he thought he could die and he was so needy...

In a flash, Walter felt himself quickly upended. He was sprawled over the android's knees and an inhumanly strong arm sent a palm of steel over Walter's tight ass. Blow after blow fell and he writhed in an abandon of shame, lust, and fear. He was going to come just from being spanked, but firm fingers pinched him and Krycek's voice came from the android, "Don't be naughty, Walter. You don't come until I say so."

Kneeling on the bed, bald head pressed against the sheets, Walter felt his ass cheeks parted as a strong finger probed within. He felt the warm slippery lube pressed deep inside of him and then hard heated flesh or simulated flesh pushing inside. Helplessly, he quivered, but it felt wonderful. The Mac 27 mastered him, defeated every barrier and every pretense.

It was freedom to submit, to abandon all need to control and command. Soon, Walter moaned 'Yes, fuck me," with every downward sweep that precisely hit his prostate, making him shudder, gasp, nearly explode with each shock of pleasure. He thrust back, his body accepting, wanting to be claimed. "Please, now, now," Walter pleaded.

"Yes, come for me, Walter," his Mac 27 purred.

And Walter did come, as he hadn't since he was eighteen. His body blasting him into a stratosphere of rapturous heights. The Mac 27 rode him until he was finished and then tenderly washed him.

Lying limply in the Mac 27's arms for long moments later, Walter asked in wonder, "But how could they have known what I really wanted? I said I wanted to fuck Krycek not have him do it to me."

The Mac 27 traced the muscles of Walter's magnificent chest dotingly and said, "It's our motto.... Tailor made.... no desire too hidden for us to fulfill."

As a weary and satisfied Walter slid into a sated sleep, his last thought was, "Must write an endorsement...who says America no longer knows how to make a good product..."

The end

 

On to Garage 4: The Making of Mac 27