Commander Borg was keeping a cool head despite a most desperate situation. His space ship had just collided with no less than thirty termo-plasmic missiles. Smoke filled the cockpit, the engines screamed at the top of their lungs, the instrument panels lit up like Christmas lights, and the shrill alarm tinged his eardrums, turning his men's pale faces scarlet. His crew scattered in a frenzy around the various control panels, almost panicking at the prospect of imminent death. But Borg was their leader. Born on the planet Forexhos, he had dedicated his life to fighting the intergalactic criminals lurking in the abyssal depths of space. Inflexible, imperturbable. He'd seen worse. Sitting in the central seat overlooking the chaos, his eyes caught sight of the gigantic flagship of the King of Space Pirates inevitably approaching through the canopy stretching out before him. He shouted: "TO YOUR COMMAND POSTS! ACTIVATE INTERMEDIATE SHIELDS AND REHABILITATE AUXILIARY ENGINES!" shouted Mikey. The turtle in the orange mask was reading "Borg and the Space Epic" a little too enthusiastically. He'd read and re-read the comic so much that the paper was crumpled at the edges. It was Raphael who had once found it in an old garbage and thrown it in his face when Mikey had just defeated Bowser for the hundredth time on his SUPER NES. "Here, gift," he’d said. This copy was unique. Printed in a limited edition some 40 years ago, it had never seen a sequel. And the least we could say about this "work" was that every frame, every dialogue, every character, every line of the script verged on the cheesy. And yet, this didn't stop Mikey from savoring the storyline over and over again, knowing it by heart. But what made this comic even more delectable in his eyes was the simple fact that Mikey was supposed to be somewhere else at the moment. At the dojo practicing his katas, to be exact. But by some wretched stroke of fate (or luck), he was sporting a lovely cast that was lazily painting his forearm. The day before, during a catastrophic mission on the docks, he'd suffered a painful setback. Pinned by Rocksteady against a metal container in the midst of a terrible fire and a desperate battle, he'd heard the eerie echo of his arm breaking like a twig. He had escaped with a dozen stitches on his bicep and a few weeks of almost complete immobility imposed by Donnie. And that was surely the greatest challenge of this hyperactive turtle's life. His skateboard sat in the corner of his room, seemingly taunting him. And he couldn't play video games, practice his nunchucks or do anything except lie on his bed reading comics. It could be worse... Oh duuuude! If I'd lost my teeth and had to drink pizza through a straw... His cast was graffitied, as was the custom. Along the length of the elbow to the wrist, Leonardo had written a Haiku about time that possessed the extraordinary ability to heal wounds of the mind with less skill than wounds of the body. Or something like that. Anyway, the young turtle had never really understood any of this Haiku stuff. On the other side, Donnie had scribbled a green felt-tip drawing of a friendly-looking little turtle, flanked by a blissful smile that Mikey thought it was rather cute, given the more graphic and serious artistic style usually associated with the smart turtle. And the younger brother had experienced this time and again: it was Donnie who had done the siblings' tattoos. At the center of all these pretty little touches, Raphael had traced the outline of a huge cock. Surprising. But Mikey's favorite part was the colorful lettering that read "Get well soon, tough guy," accompanied by a myriad of little hearts. It was from April. And beyond all that, what was most comforting were those mechanical arms that turned the pages of his comic book for him. Donatello had given it to him after Mikey had loudly complained about being bedridden without being able to do anything constructive with his days. Although he never really did anything constructive under normal circumstances. - Okay... okay! But it's not a toy. And it's still in the development phase. Voice control is temperamental, so articulate and... - Yeah yeah, I'll be fine! Thanks Donniiiiiiiiie, Mikey interrupted, overexcited to test this new device. These arms were a great help. An invention from the brilliant mind of Donnie himself, with ingenious mechanisms that enabled him, among other things, to multi-task when working in the laboratory. And Mikey used to say that this made him look like Doctor Octopus, to which Donnie retorted that his creation actually had only two functional arms where Spider-man's comic genius deployed four. But this in no way detracted from the practicality of this pure marvel of technology, which, firmly attached to the back of his shell, gave the impression of omnipotence, so easy was it to type into the computer while adjusting the metal bolts to the Turtle Van's engine with unrivalled precision, delicacy and meticulousness. And even though the clever turtle had cringed slightly at the idea that his incredible invention was going to be used as a substitute for turning the pages of a has-been comic book, he had agreed to lend it to his younger brother. - Turn the page, said the orange-banded turtle distinctly as one of the arms swung out, deploying a clamp that delicately grasped the page and turned it for him. And his mouth stretched into a satisfied smile, catching in passing a sip of his soda that the other metal arm held out to him. Slumped on his bed, he looked like a fat, indolent mollusk. As soon as the page was turned, the wreckage of Commander Borg's spaceship was revealed, floating in space, completely annihilated. And Mikey stifled a chuckle: this was his favorite part. The one in which Borg was about to be taken prisoner by the King of the Space Pirates. The turtle's blue eyes followed each panel hungrily, jumping from one to the next and back to the first to savor every graphic element. In this bubble, Borg let out an exclamation of surprise when the sentinel robots grabbed him ferociously. Soon, we see him being dragged through winding corridors to a much larger room, filled with treasures. And there, seated on a solid gold throne, is the King of the Space Pirates himself. A full page then shows Borg forcibly kneeling before this terrible red-skinned adversary, who grins with all his teeth and points his laser pistol at the commander. - You're finished, Borg. You've got nowhere to go. Everything you've fought for is going to come to nothing!, said Mikey in a raucous voice, amused as he read the dialogue aloud. Borg doesn't seem impressed at all. And on the next page, a gleam of mischief shines in his eyes. He has a plan. He always has a plan. - Really ? Didn't your mommy ever tell you never to eat your soup too hot? says Borg in Mikey's voice. Mikey smiled in anticipation of what was to come. Indifferent to these old-fashioned, waxy lines, he reveled in the story as if he were discovering it for the first time. It was that moment when the script aligned the pieces of the puzzle, that moment when the cogs fitted together perfectly. Raaaah, we don't make stories like that anymore! That moment when the villain would finally realize that he'd been fooled all along. He had never destroyed Borg's ship. It had all been a deception designed to infiltrate the commander into the enemy HQ, drawing enough attention to himself to give his crew time to sabotage the ship's computer security system. And soon, his men would enter by force, seizing the most powerful arsenal in all 7 galaxies. And on this page, Borg grinned triumphantly at the King of Pirates, who was largely taken aback by his insolence. Little did he know that it was he who was at his mercy. Vulnerable. Almost in submission. Then Commander Borg uttered the words that would change everything. On the crumpled paper, the bubble was wide, spreading out beneath the faces frozen in their decrepit ink, and Mikey read it aloud as if he were Commander Borg himself. - ARSENAL PROTOCOL ACTIVATED! The spirit with which Mikey had shouted these words could have shaken the walls! The next panel was a horrible mass of color with exaggerated outlines that were supposed to represent the explosion of the pirate ship's shields. The artist had let loose a little too much, spitting rainbow vomit over no less than 4 complete panels, highlighted with crude onomatopoeia that ran the length and breadth of the surrounding clutter with "KABOOM" and "ZZIIIIIING". But nothing seemed to stop the enthusiastic turtle, whose blue irises raced over the details with delight. At the center of this infernal mass of shades, the silhouette of the King of Pirates could hardly be seen emanating from the disordered drawings. His face seemed to be twisted into a mute scream of fright, fading partly behind the final bubble pointing to a triumphant Commander Borg. And with that dazzling smile that betrayed very good dental hygiene, he uttered his signature phrase, as cheesy as the rest: "Let the shouts of a thousand lasers cross the immensity of space!" - Anal protocol activated. Mikey's heart did a somersault! A voice had come from nowhere. - Who... who said that?, he said uncertainly, fumbling on his bedside table with his good hand for his nunchucks before remembering that he'd left them with Donnie for repair. - Protocol confirmation ? The voice sounded again, and clearly seemed to emanate from further behind him. The timbre was metallic. As if artificial. - Wha... what? Confirm? - Protocol confirmed, replied the voice with a hint of determination. A muffled rumble followed, like the sound of a small engine. And then a slight jolt shook Mikey's entire shell. It came from the control box attached to his back. The box that Donnie had described as « fragile, so don't lean on it, scratch it, hammer it or do God knows what else! » And for the moment, the metal object hummed furiously. Oh crud, don't tell me I broke it?! Donnie is going to murder me!!!! He'd been lying limply on his bed all day, the contraption squeezed between the hardness of his shell and the mattress. It was likely that he'd roughed it up without realizing it. Unaware of his own weight, perhaps he'd leaned on it too much? But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, the tremors became much more pronounced, until he felt like a pair of giant castanets. Mikey sat down in the urgency of the situation, indifferent to the comic book that slid across the bed in the movement, Commander Borg still wearing his toothpaste smile from the sheets. Then, as suddenly as it had arrived, the buzzing stopped. Mikey had to rub his eyes to convince himself that what he now saw before him was real. - What the... ?! The turtle with the orange headband wasn't the type to be the epitome of excellence when it came to scientific or mathematical tricks. But all the same, he could still count to 2! And yet, it was no longer two but four mechanical arms waving their tortuous shapes before his astonished gaze. The two new arms had a different appearance from the first ones. Whereas their predecessors were equipped with movable grippers designed to grasp any object, the tip of one of these new attributes was smooth, both long and round, and seemed to ooze a strange viscous material. Textured in appearance, as if dotted with small vein-like channels, its circumference flirted with that of Mikey's index finger (which was rather thick given his peculiar physique). The fourth arm, however, resembled a tube, the inside of which appeared to be covered with a soft, rubbery, pearly-white material. - What are you two doing here?, wondered Mikey, who was used to talking to himself. Donnie had been formal. "No, no, no. This box only contains two functional arms, whereas Doctor Octopus can deploy four!" Donnie's words struck his memory so vividly that he could almost hear his voice in his head. Functional? Did that mean these arms could fail ? Sometimes, Donnie's machines malfunctioned and unleashed a veritable whirlwind of inconvenience. The coffeemaker made coffee that was too strong. The washing machine whose motor had been boosted and made holes in their clothes. Raphael had complained loudly for weeks that his durags had turned pink and lost all their color. However, these were rare incidents, as Donatello was always very careful when it came to his creations. And the strange appearance of his two new robotic companions left Mikey in no doubt as to the unfinished nature of this invention. Clearly, the smart turtle hadn't finished working on these two yet. - Okay, little guys, you'll have to get back into your little box now! said the turtle with the orange headband, looking at the metal limbs unfolded around him on either side of his field of vision. But suddenly, by way of reply, the machines dived towards him at lightning speed. One of the clamps grabbed Mikey's good wrist and he jerked back, trying to avoid the attack. He had forgotten, however, that this arms were connected to his dorsal shell, making it impossible for him to escape. And it was a confused tornado of indistinct screams, disorganized movements and clattering scrap metal that followed this first offensive. After a few minutes of intensive struggle, Mikey found himself immobilized, head first buried in his pillows, while his arms and legs were held in place by the clamped limbs that had wrapped around him like a rope. On all fours on his mattress, he held this position against his will, trying to break free from the unyielding grip of his tormentors. - What are you doing? Let me go, you Terminators!!! The more he struggled, the tighter the arms tightened around him, maintaining enough pressure to prevent him from moving at all. His cast was folded against his chest, as if the machines had understood that this part of him had to be taken care of. So he held on with his able-bodied hand, his knees buried in the messy sheets. - Okay, okay, I'm the one who broke Donnie's drone playing with it! But it was an accident! I swear I didn't mean to hurt your friend! He was making a confession as if hoping for some gratitude. At this point, it was really the only idea he could think of. He'd watched far too many sci-fi movies, and he knew it always ended badly for mankind when the machines started going crazy. - For your own safety, please stop moving while I perform the extraction, crooned the artificial voice. Then one of the arms opened its clamp and deftly unbuttoned his pants. - WOW WOW WOW! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! Leave it alone! ZIIIIIiiiip! Mikey had already enjoyed the unprecedented skill of these pliers, which could do just about any manual task, and it was with horror that he saw once again what these little devices were capable of when his zipper was undone without batting an eyelid. He wriggled his hips fiercely, straining his leg muscles in a vain effort to extricate himself from the iron embrace. But the machines held firm and the second arm sprang up, finishing the first's work: its ingenious clamps slid the turtle's pants and boxer shorts onto his knees in one precise movement. Mikey swallowed, feeling a wave of panic sweep over him as the gust of fresh air hit his balls and cock, now hanging limply between his thighs. He was stuck there, helpless, his bare ass widely exposed and each of his attempts to escape was a bigger failure than the last. Well... this isn't how it goes in the movies. If the first arms had opened a rather timid path to Mikey's nakedness, it was nothing compared to what the third was determined to do. The one with the distinctive rounded tip slid along the turtle's shell, leaving a little of its viscous substance in its wake. Then Mikey felt it. Near his anus. The moist tip pressing against his orifice. A cry caught in his throat as the realization of this obscene reality hit him hard. This strange arm wasn't unfinished work. It’s a dildo ?! Why had Donnie invented such a thing? Stupid question. Obvious answer. Despite the urgency of this delicate situation, Mikey let loose a stream of thoughts, all of which concerned his older brother and his rather peculiar intimate practices. He didn't even know Donnie could be interested in sex. He always seemed like the kind of guy who thought masturbation was a waste of time and productivity, whereas Mikey practiced handjobs almost every day. The fleeting image of Donnie contorted in pleasure, his own cock hardening in his hands, grazed the young turtle's mind for a moment. Then he shook his head. This was no time to be rambling! He had to concentrate on what that damn machine was about to do! He thought, his neurons firing at full speed. If this machine wasn't malfunctioning as he'd first thought, then something must have activated it. - Hmph! Cancel... Cancellation... um ... wank?, stammered Mikey quickly. - Invalid formulation. Please articulate. The artificial voice replied in a neutral tone as the dildo pushed lightly into Mikey's tight hole, causing him to gasp in surprise. - Stop! Process complete! End of ass! Sodomy cancelled! - Invalid formulation. Please articulate. And the dildo teased his wide-open ass as it carried its slimy tip further beyond the edges of his throbbing anus. Mikey instinctively felt his ring of tight muscles convulse at the contact, adamantly refusing to let the intruder in. But the metal arm was undeterred and its ingeniously designed tapered form effortlessly penetrated him for at least two centimeters, stretching his ass slightly. - No... stop... I... It was thick and wet. And hot too, strangely enough. Mikey clenched his teeth as tightly as he clenched his ass, his fingers gripping the mattress. The whole situation was getting out of hand! He looked around desperately for a solution. He was a ninja, for God's sake! He'd been through some very unpleasant experiences in his life and had always escaped unscathed! And on the pillow in front of him, his gaze fell on Commander Borg who lay quietly, staring at him tirelessly from his crumpled pages. "Let the shouts of a thousand lasers cross the immensity of space!" he said proudly. Shout? Mikey hesitated. Should he call for help? His mind circled the question. The prospect of being caught in this humiliating position by his mocking brothers was not in his plans. Raphael would be sure to remind him of this event for the rest of his life, bringing April, Casey and Taimy into the loop just to piss him off. Oh shit... not April! That would be a nightmare! He bit his tongue at the thought of the redheaded woman finding out about this. Although technically she'd never expressed the slightest romantic interest in him, Mikey had continued to have a crush on her since the first day they'd met. As for Leo, so wise, so detached from obscenity, he would most likely give him a disapproving look and then make him meditate for hours, instructing him to put his mind back on the path of his practice rather than indulge in useless pleasures. Then there was Donnie. Donnie's judgment. Donnie's golden-green eyes staring at her unveiled intimacy. A wave of shame filled Mikey's nose like pepper. No way ! He'll manage on his own. - OH MY G....!?!, squeaked Mikey. The dildo had just rammed its full length into his ass in one fell swoop. His anus emitted loud pleas, closing in salvos on the dissident object, and the turtle felt the full thickness of the object hit his inner walls in a wet viscosity. It had been painful for a very brief moment, just as the sex toy had forced its way through. But the substance it was coated with had facilitated its entry and it now penetrated him fully, sliding easily into his depths as if simply adapting to the young turtle's morphology. Then the robotic arm began its work. Mikey was baffled, his mind drifting over a thousand things at once. His thoughts were clearly derailed as he processed this information. But what information?! A fucking machine was fucking his ass! Because, indeed, at that moment, the dildo began to move back and forth, distending his tight hole a little more each time its thick, lanky form came charging back into his bowels. But it was when the contraption began to vibrate that things got worse for Mikey. A light, intimate, ardent jolt that tickled all over his hindquarters, giving him a... ... pleasant sensation? Wait, what? He was slowly but surely beginning to lose himself in a myriad of contradictory feelings. This thing vibrating and penetrating his ass baffled the turtle, shaking even his own combativeness as he was on all fours in his own bed, his body thrust forward in a rocking motion with each penetration. When the thing began to vibrate, Mikey stifled a cry of surprise. In 21 years, he'd never had the curiosity to visit this part of his anatomy, confining himself to simple handjobs. It had always been just him, his cock and his fantasies. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd ejaculated in the shower, on his sheets or even once in the dojo. But this! This was different. This movement in his ass was bringing him a whole new set of delicious sensations, and he knew instantly that he'd just scratched the surface of a whole new world of pleasure. Then a moan escaped his mouth as he closed his eyes, as if to better savor all the flavors of this new experience. He didn't even feel the mechanical arms loosen their grip, freeing his limbs in the process. Now detached, Mikey could have turned around and ripped the intruder from his ass if he'd wanted to. But instead, he stayed there, fully sucking the dildo's thrusts into his dilated hole, gladly receiving it inside him each time a little more. He surrendered to the machine's ministrations. He capitulated. He felt it thrusting in and out of his glistening ass, his hole wide open and welcoming him into the oozing mixture that flowed ceaselessly from the dildo. A half-erection shamelessly formed between his thighs. He gripped the sheets tightly, his body tense as he tried to contain the pleasure coursing through him. His hips recoiled involuntarily, driving the sex toy deeper into his ass with each thrust. He gasped loudly. How could he have missed out on this pure sensation of euphoria for so long? Beneath him, the sheets were tinged with shades of soaked white where the drops of precum had come to crash down. A stream of this transparent juice escaped from his urethra without him even having to touch himself. And he watched his own length move to the rhythm of his hips, rocking back and forth in a furious motion, preceded by his full balls. Mikey ran his hand between his legs and began stroking his already hard cock, grunting and groaning with pleasure as the vibrations in his hole intensified. He wedged his cast arm against the bedpost in front of him to keep himself in a stable position as he jerked off ferociously. His fingers closed over his thick shaft, rolling up and down, precum trickling over his knuckles in a steady stream. He let out a primal growl, sending his hips impaling themselves on the vibrator with force, beginning to fuck the contraption violently. The walls of his ass contracted and relaxed around the metal member, giving him a pleasure he'd never experienced before. How had a simple day of reading comics gone off the rails so quickly? - That... should have just... turned my pages..., Mikey chirped through chattering teeth. - Confirmation, "Touch my penis," notified the artificial voice. - Oh no no no, that's not what I meant, yelped the young turtle. But too late. The fourth and final arm with a tube at the end extended far above him, traveling between Mikey's wet legs. Meticulously, the tube came to envelop the turtle's stiff cock, who gave an exclamation of surprise. The object was soft and warm around his length and Mikey felt as if his penis was surrounded by a soft cloud. He could see the tip of it protruding from the tube and his precum continued to flow everywhere. Then a slight buzz emanated from the fourth arm, which began a series of jerks. - Oh.. Oh! OOOH! Mikey groaned between his lips as the robotic arm began to pump him. All he could do was watch the show unfolding before his eyes, his big cock gripped in a vice in this device that massaged it with vigor and dexterity. The sight was hypnotic, so perfect was the movement that it perfectly coated his needy shaft. Mikey began to purr with the pleasure climbing from his balls and ass, he was about to... yes... he was about to... - Mikey? Is everything all right? Mikey's blue eyes opened urgently, just as Donnie's voice burst from behind the closed door. It was as if the young turtle had just been punched in the stomach. Busy with his new toys, he had overlooked the presence of his brothers in the lair! Had he been making too much noise? Or was Donnie's visit just an occasional one to make sure he was all right, despite his broken arm? Yes, that had to be it. It had to be. Donatello was the guarantor of his brothers' health, after all, and Mikey was injured. It made sense, didn't it? Why else would he have come? Long seconds passed without him answering anything, his mind sinking into the meanders of pleasure he was trying to contain while searching for an adequate response. But his lungs, exhaling a heavy breath, and his heart, galloping like fury through his shell, were not being very cooperative. - Mikey ...?, Donnie's worried voice asked again. The door handle came down. Oh no, this was a catastrophe! If Donnie found out like this, he... oh my god, he couldn't even think about it! Quick, he had to answer him! - I'm... I'm fine! His voice was hoarse, slightly shaky, like after a training session at the dojo or a few hours of skateboarding practice. And that didn't escape his big brother, who asked once more: - Are you sure? Because if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask me. Hot chocolate, pizza, anything you want. Or painkillers if it still throws you. Fine. By the tone of his voice, he obviously didn't suspect a thing. So Mikey replied, trying to ignore the dildo pounding his ass and the tube still pumping his big hard cock as feverishly: - I was going to take a nap, actually. But thanks, Donnie! With a little squeak, the door handle returned to its original state, much to Mikey's relief. - No problem. Rest easy. And Donnie's footsteps drifted off down the corridor. Mikey didn't like lying to his brothers, especially Donnie, whom he adored. But he couldn't let him see him in this position! It would have raised too many questions. Too many troubles... The robotic arms had not failed in their task, but something had changed in the dynamic. As Mikey's thoughts drifted slowly to his brother, a sharper thrust of the dildo into his ass brought him abruptly back to reality and he let out a high-pitched moan. And then his ass was taken by Donnie in a rhythmic cadence. His cock rested in his hand and the purple-headbanded turtle pumped him vigorously. That was him. Only him. He fantasized his brother fucking him wildly. - Don..., puffed the young turtle lost in his reverie. And Mikey could almost hear him talking to him, leaning into his ear and whispering. - If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. Hot chocolate, pizza... my dick fucking your ass. And that fantasy made him harden more than he'd ever hardened before. And Donnie pounded Mikey's prostate with his powerful length, wringing more and more sonorous gasps from his little brother. A range of sounds escaped his half-sealed lips as he finally surrendered to pleasure, his hips bucking and responding to each thrust with an even deeper moan, as his whole body slid back and forth, leaving a wet trail on the dildo. ... no, on Donnie's cock. The liquid continued to run tirelessly down his buttocks and thighs. He could feel drops crashing onto his calves as his knees sank ever deeper into the mattress under the pressure of this overwhelming moment. And his huge shaft was being taken over by that hand that kept teasing him, its entire length vibrating and Mikey was certain his cock had never been bigger. His wet tip spat precum that dripped onto the tube.... ... no, dripping onto Donnie's hand. And the young turtle rocked back and forth between the two sources of pleasure, feeling on the verge of explosion. Each time he felt his length being pumped more ardently, he moved his hips forward and back in a reflex that inevitably led him to impale himself further onto the sex toy working in his hole. His heart was beating a million miles an hour, his mind fainted in the midst of the euphoria and he couldn't hold back any longer. A loud groan escaped his lips and his body jerked. Mikey grunted as he continued to feel the dildo vibrating in his depths and his cock trembling with anticipation. He gripped the sheets tightly, arching his back slightly as he pulled his hips back once more to sink the sex toy much deeper into his anus. - Donnie..., Mikey sighed. His breathing became shallow. The dildo invited itself into his hollow, drawing an exhilarated sigh from him each time the object exited and returned to lodge itself in his ass. The lubricant oozing from its asperities began to flow in and out, sliding thick viscous drops over his scales and hanging balls. And his cock pulsed fiercely, captive in the tube. It delivered its transparent juice, which spread everywhere in sticky threads that came to lose themselves in the sheets. Feeling the vibrations intensify, Mikey threw his head back and bit his lip, now closing his eyes as he climaxed. His pelvis slammed into the vibrator in his ass, the walls of his hole immediately retracted around the sex toy and he felt the burning wave of his own release rush into his balls. His eyes suddenly revolted and he came hard. He ejaculated like he'd never ejaculated before in his life. His body contorted in indescribable pleasure, his cock spurting thick jets of ejaculate all over the mattress, the pillows and the comic book. His penis projected its hot, sticky cum everywhere, in increasingly impressive bursts that even landed on the wall opposite him, splattering his bedside lamp and his cast arm. The little turtle Donnie had drawn in felt-tip disappeared half under the white juice without the slightest embarrassment. - UUUNNNNGH!, he exclaimed with a loud grunt as the vibrator continued to throb in his hole and the metal arm coated with his own sperm, jerked him off again vigorously, sending another squirt against his belly, painting his neck and collarbone with his sticky semen in the process. Then, after a moment, everything stopped. The dildo stopped vibrating, the tube stopped jerking around his dick. And the familiar artificial voice spoke. - Task completed. Requires maintenance and cleaning. Then the vibrator popped out of his ass. And the tube released its softened shaft. The two extra robotic arms disappeared as quickly as they'd come, back into their cozy little housings still attached to Mikey's back. He was still breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath as the aftershocks of his orgasm washed over him. Commander Borg, still propped up on the pillow, was now coated with semen that ran down the pages. And Mikey was staring at him without really seeing him. Only one thing was running through his mind. - Did I really fantasize about Donnie?! END. These characters still have a lot to discover, about their relationships, their feelings and how they all desire each other. But Mikey wasn't the only one having fun at the moment. If you want to know what happened at the same moment in the lair, then you can read about it here : For a bit of poetry, art and sex between Leo and Raph, it's here! For a horny Donnie pleasuring himself in the privacy of his laboratory, it's here! (IN PROGRESS)