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Oil Is Also Thicker than Water

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Nestled snugly within the mechanical guts of Boxmore lies the factory's sole recreational room, equipped with a cheap flatscreen TV that bathes its surroundings in harsh light. Darrell and Shannon are watching a movie on it, though they'd neglected to check the rating beforehand--everything in their highly-curated (read: censored) movie bin is rated G, anyway. At least, they're supposed to be. It's when the main stars start passionately kissing on-screen that the robotic siblings exchange confused glances and dig out the DVD box.

"What the heck!!" screeches Darrell, slapping the pause button on the remote inelegantly. "This movie's rated PG-13!!" Shannon crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. "I knew all those funny new words were suspicious," she grumbles, reaching to eject the disc. Darrell eyes the frozen screen contemplatively, then insistently taps his sister on the shoulder with a shit-eating grin. "Hey, sis, remember when you smooooched Rad on his big dumb face?" He waggles his eyebrow (singular), and she grimaces, shoving him away childishly. "Eww! Don't remind me! It was gross!" The red robot snickers, then cocks his head, staring at her. "So what's kissing like?" he asks, apparently in earnest.

Shannon's cheeks darken a bit, and she looks uncomfortable. "Huh? I mean... I did it with a hero! So it was obviously bad." Darrell furrows his brow, quirking his lip to the side. "So it might be better with a villain?" She shrugs. "I dunno. Maybe?" Her mouth wobbles uncertainly, and she averts her gaze, sulking. "... It's not like other villains wanna date us robots, though." A downcast silence stretches between them for a time as this sinks in.

Then, Darrell's dome lights up visibly, indicating the rare moment when he gets an idea. "Y'know, I'm a villain, too..." he murmurs, scooting a little closer with a frustratingly persistent glint in his eye. Shannon's cheeks burn. "Wh-what? Brother, I'm NOT going to--" "C'mon, just a little! It looks fun!" "Buzz off, weirdo!" "Make me!" They end up squabbling in their usual fashion, spiked mecha-gauntlets and buzzsaws flying indiscriminately in a cacophony of clashing metal. When it's over, Darrell looms over his sister, panting. They're both sporting a variety of dings and scratches. He glances over at the TV--the actors are posed similarly, with their lips locked together. "So do I just...?" "Just get it over with already!" "FINE!" The cyclops stares down at her, pale cheeks reddening, before closing his eye and bringing his mouth to hers.

Several seconds pass before he withdraws, blinking. "That was neat!" he chimes, beaming. "How'd I do, sis?" She averts her eyes, embarrassed, and mumbles that it was... better than smooching a stupid hero. "Great! Let's do it again!" Before Shannon can protest, he's already kissing her.


Shannon and Darrell spend the next several days sneaking furtive kisses here and there, though only when they're alone. They're not sure why, but they get the unshakable impression that they're doing something... naughty. But it feels nice, too, so how bad could it be? Still, they've never paid much attention to other people getting their smooch on before now, so they're not really sure how to improve upon the experience. The solution to their conundrum happens to waltz through the door to the playroom as they're tangled together again, lips only barely touching.

Caught red-handed, the pair violently separates. "I--it's not what it looks like!" "He started it!" "Nuh-uh!" Raymond blinks repeatedly, daintily bringing a hand to his mouth. "Oh, my," he remarks softly. His brother and sister scramble to their feet and nearly trip over themselves in an attempt to cling to his sizable calves. "Please don't tell Daddy!" they plead in unison, fixing him with their best watery puppy dog eyes.

Their second-oldest sibling titters to himself, petting them reassuringly on their adorable little heads. "Don't fret, dearest brother and sister. Your secret is safe with me." They sag with visible relief, and Raymond peers down at them with a peculiar glimmer in his eye. "... Although... what if I told you I knew a better way of kissing?" Darrell and Shannon exchange an incredulous Look, which the green robot takes as encouragement, continuing with a smug expression.

"I'm sure you're aware that French is the language of romance. But did you know that the French have their own way of kissing? I hear they even greet each other with it!" The bronze fembot scowls, tugging at her wide-eyed younger brother's arm. "C'mon, Darrell, he's just making stuff up again." The sporty casanova huffs, insulted. "I'm entirely serious, Sister." In a flash, he closes the distance between them, cradling her tenderly in his enormous claws. "Would you care for a demonstration?" he purrs, eyelids flirtatiously heavy. Shannon sputters with a reddening face before wriggling out of his grasp and shoving their smaller, twinkier brother between them. Their chassis collide with a metallic clang. "D-Darrell wants to!" she asserts, practically hiding behind him.

Raymond frowns. He'd especially wanted his first kiss to go to Shannon. Though, as he takes in the sight of his dweebier sibling, flushed and vulnerable and so very small beneath him, he supposes he doesn't mind this turn of events. "Very well," he sighs, carefully tugging Darrell into an intimate embrace. Yes, despite being quite the romantic, the closest he'd ever gotten to kissing someone was with that accursed Radicles, though he'd accidentally poked him in the eye with his prominent snout in the attempt, soiling the mood. It's a mistake he dares not repeat, angling his pointy head accordingly as he brings their mouths together.

Kissing Raymond is... different. The conical shape of his face is bizarre to work around, and Darrell is unable to ponder this train of thought any further when his sibling forces his tongue into his mouth. "Mmnnph--!?" As his little brother stiffens against him, Raymond himself isn't quite certain how to proceed from here. Does he just... wriggle it around a bit? It always looked so much more elegant in the PG-13 movies he regularly (and secretly) watched. Like a beautiful, passionate dance. Gracelessly shoving his anatomy into Darrell's face, the sportsbot feels more like he's imitating a particularly energetic worm in the dirt. At least it feels rather pleasant, if disgusting.

While they awkwardly make out, Darrell whimpers and whines into the kiss, interspersed with Raymond's soft, delicate sighs. Eventually, there's a faint mechanical whirring, and as Shannon bites her lip with a heavy blush from the sight, she glances down to witness... some kind of paneling at Darrell's groin beginning to shift and part, revealing what looks like a USB port with a tiny little button on top of it. "What the heck!?" she exclaims, startling her brothers into sloppily parting. She points at the offending region, and everyone gawks at the unexpected development with alarm.

Their sister approaches cautiously, squinting. "Where'd this weird port come from?" Raymond daintily wipes the excess saliva from his mouth with an inexplicably-produced handkerchief. "Do you suppose he's malfunctioning?" Shannon brings a hand over her forehead with a frustrated expression. "I bet he was just trying to download that dumb cowboy movie again." Darrell folds his arms with a huff. "Hey! Fievel Goes West is a cinematic masterpiece! I-I just keep forgetting where I saved it..." He trails off, staring down at his newfound anatomy with concern. "Besides, I haven't done that all week."

A confounded silence stretches between the three of them. Boldly, Shannon breaks it by prodding Darrell's crotch, eliciting a particularly amusing squeak. Giggling, she does it again--"Heheh, weird!"--and again, until she's stroking and rubbing inquisitively at the area as he shudders and jolts with precious little noises. Raymond watches this unfold with great interest, tapping a claw to his chin. "Do you suppose we have something like this, too, Sister?" She pauses, giving this some consideration. "I dunno. Wanna find out?" Tentatively, they reach between each other's legs--one with greater ease than the other, due to their stark proportional differences--and feel around for a bit. Eventually, their efforts bear fruit, and before too long all three of them are sitting there with their respectively-color-coded ports out.

Darrell's frustrated gaze bores into the floor. "Why didn't Daddy ever tell us about these things?" Shannon wrings her hands nervously. "D'you think they're... bad?" Raymond narrows his eyes. "Perhaps... it's a test?" That certainly gets his siblings' attention, and they jerk their heads to look at him. "It may be that only the worthiest among us will figure out their purpose." A fire ignites in all five of their eyes, and one by one, they leap to their feet. "I'm gonna solve Daddy's weird crotch puzzle!" "No, me!" "In your dreams!" Each of them exits in a hurry, holing up in their bedrooms and eagerly touching themselves while vowing to win their father's hard-earned approval.


Several days pass, and the bumbling robot henchmen are no closer to the truth. Begrudgingly, they convene, hesitantly deciding to collectively ask their father about it. He might be angry, but it's nothing they can't handle, right? It's fine. They burst into his office that afternoon, and Lord Boxman swivels to face them, having apparently been hate-watching the plaza for the past several hours (as usual). Upon seeing that it's just his idiot children, he pinches the bridge of his tiny nose with a scowl. "What is it this time? Daddy's very busy."

The trio appears flustered, and Darrell meekly touches the tips of his index claws together. "We were just, uh, you see--w-we were wondering, um--" "Out with it, boy!" The red one panics, holding up his hands placatingly. "Wefoundtheseweirdportsbetweenourlegsandwedunnowhatthey'refor!?" he blurts all at once. Boxman's eyes widen cartoonishly, cheeks burning as soon as his robotic son says the word "port". "How did you even--nevermind, I don't want to know," he grumbles, shaking his head. Rummaging around in his desk drawers, he pulls out a heavy metal lockbox, along with what appears to be an extremely poorly-treated textbook, rife with missing and poorly-inserted pages alike. The title has been hastily pasted over with "Evil Plan #2179 EXPLAINING SEX TO TEENS!: SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO", crudely scrawled on notebook paper. He flings both items at his minions, ordering them to get out of his office. As they scramble to do so with a chorus of "Yes, Daddy!"s and "Thank you, Daddy!"s, he buries his face in his hands. He doesn't even remember why he gave them those parts.

Raymond, Shannon, and Darrell huddle together in the playroom, peering at their newfound prizes. The first, most logical course of action is to check the box, so they pry it open as its aging hinges squeal. Inside are... some strange corded attachments of uniform shape and a variety of colors, each presumably corresponding to one of the boxbots. Darrell pokes at the tip of the red one. It's strangely squishy, with a firm interior. Curious.

"What the heck are these?" asks Shannon, turning over the orange one in her hands. Raymond hefts the textbook into his lap. "Perhaps this reading material will enlighten us." He opens it to the first page, and his siblings immediately flop down in front of him, propped up on their elbows with a childish enthusiasm sparkling in their eyes. He chuckles fondly, and begins to read its contents aloud for them.

Most people would be able to recognize it as a sex ed textbook, the kind one might see in a high school's underfunded health class--though many of the diagrams are covered up with significantly less professional-looking doodles of cartoon robots. Additionally, much of the original text is meticulously blacked out, particularly related to biological reproduction--and other sections are completely pasted over with (un)helpful additions from Boxman himself, featuring sterling advice such as "hide your genitals at all times because they're disgusting". Still, it's an enlightening (albeit confusing) read for the sheltered siblings, and they add a number of new words to their vocabularies by the time Raymond reaches the last page.

When it's over, Darrell blinks repeatedly, then pouts, kicking his legs. "What the heck! That wasn't a test at all!" Shannon expresses that she's even more confused now, and Raymond shuts the book, mulling something over in his head before speaking. "Brother, Sister, why don't we try out our new attachments?" The other two seem hesitant, citing the "rules" in the textbook, but he persists. "Father gave them to us together, did he not? Why not use them together?" They can't seem to argue with that.

It takes some fiddling, and they end up consulting the textbook again, but they manage to get Darrell's... penis(?) plugged in and fully operational. The button above his port starts to emit a gentle red glow, and his siblings huddle up between his twiggy thighs, touching it curiously. On his end, it feels... really weird! It's like his port, but extruded, somehow. And something about the way his brother and sister are... staring at it... is making it twitch of its own accord. Shannon giggles. "Gross!" she jeers, tugging Darrell into a sloppy kiss. Raymond's brows raise as he gets an idea. Tentatively, he leans in and licks the tip of the strange attachment. Their little brother lets out an adorable muffled squeal, which the romance bot takes as a good sign, lapping cluelessly all along the shaft before taking the head into his mouth entirely. Shannon pulls back after a bit after realizing what's going on, unable to look away from the lurid sight before her. Between squeaky moans and gasps, Darrell intermittently pipes up about what feels good (and what doesn't--"Ow! No teeth!").

It's after a minute or two of watching this that their sister can't take it any more, and she crawls on top of her even-redder-than-usual sibling, straddling his narrow chest with her plush thighs. Her port is nestled invitingly between them, and she scoots onto Darrell's face insistently, not wanting to be left out. Belatedly, he realizes her intentions, and he dazedly starts to move his mouth against her.

No one really seems to know what they're doing, but it feels good, and Lord knows there's precious few reliable sources of feeling good in their miserable existences (though each would insist they're perfectly happy, were you to ask). Darrell, especially--caught between his brother sucking his cock and sister impatiently riding his face--is feeling pretty great. Really great. He's never felt so good in his life--even during the handful of times Daddy had praised him. It's almost too much to bear. His system doesn't seem to know how to handle the sheer intensity of these sensations, and his ocular display snows over and flickers occasionally as... something... starts to steadily build inside him. His smothered cries pitch up in volume and desperation, and it's as he's screaming against Shannon's pussy-port that he's wracked with his very first orgasm, metal claws gouging into the floor and body shuddering forcefully. He spurts some kind of substance into Raymond's mouth, causing him to choke and sputter gracelessly before pulling off, bewildered.

Shannon and Raymond exchange a worried look. "Brother? Are you alright?" Shannon pokes at his forehead. His eye shuts off completely before displaying the word "BOOTING". She groans, climbing off of him with a wet noise, and Raymond rolls his eyes. Their younger brother's model has always been on the cheaper end, and thusly, he was also always the last to receive firmware updates. As a result, he's notoriously plagued with longer load times, lower framerates, and, more notably: significantly longer boot times. This could take a while.

Regardless, the remaining brother eyes his sister gratuitously. The sight of her thighs, soaked in her own... fluids, is terrifically enticing to him. Recalling a fleeting passage in the textbook, Raymond retrieves his attachment from the toolbox and carefully guides the cable between his scrawny thighs. Seemingly having a mind of its own, it invades his port and clicks into place, eliciting an undignified noise from the robot as it fastens into position. Blushing heavily, he clears his throat before speaking. "Dearest sister, have you ever tried putting anything in there?" He gestures broadly towards her pelvis. "Umm... no. Why?" He crawls on top of her, looming imposingly overhead with their brother's release still staining his mouth. "I'd like to try being the first," he murmurs, cadence heavy with a strange intensity. Something about it has heat coiling anew in her mechanical insides.

She's still pretty slippery down there, so it takes a few awkward tries for him to actually squeeze his way inside with a gasp. It's tight, but not painful for either of them, and there's something special about the moment when he hilts inside her, staring intimately into her eyes. She hides her face, suddenly overwhelmed into shyness, and he gently encourages her into a kiss.

Shannon immediately pushes him away, grossed out by the taste. They share a laugh over it, sweet and innocent, and Raymond begins to move. He's painstakingly careful at first, but she swiftly grows annoyed, demanding that he hurry it up already. He happily obliges, pistoning his hips again and again with an efficiency only a machine could maintain, and he decides he can't get enough of the moans he starts forcing out of her.

He calls her cute like this, breathless reverence creeping into his voice, and she tenses around him as she denies it. He insists, calling her pretty, beautiful, precious, and anything else that comes to mind--and she hides her face again as she gets increasingly flustered. His thrusts grow more erratic, enormous claws digging into her generous waist, and he slams into her one final time, prattling brokenly about his "perfect, adorable li-ittle sister" as he spills himself inside her.

Being the newest model of the three, his system recovers in record time, and he spends a brief period recovering before pulling out. Captivated by the sight of his emissions leaking out of his sister's hole, he nestles his triangular face between her thighs and greedily laps up his own mess, despite Shannon's embarrassed protests. Insatiable, he tongues doggedly at her cute little (literal) button until he satisfies her, too, drenching himself with her juices in the process.

None of them make it to their rooms that evening, having far too much fun exploring (and interfacing with) each other's bodies.

The next morning, the Bodega alarms go off as a sizable box plummets from the heavens, crashing into the parking lot and bursting open to reveal Darrell, Raymond, and Shannon, all posed dramatically as they declare their villainous intent to attack the plaza. The laid-back employee, Enid, wryly asks where they've been. "It was kinda nice when you weren't here. You should go back to doing that. You know--not being here." Darrell puffs out his meager chest with pride and places his hands squarely on his hips. "We've been HAVING SEX!!!!" he screeches, loud enough for everyone in the plaza to hear. Enid and Radicles immediately cover KO's tiny ears, mortified. "Dude. Not cool." Alien laser beams and red-hot kicks fly towards them with a fervor the likes of which they've never seen before.

The robots glance at each other in confusion just before they're blown to smithereens.