Friendly Affairs part 9

	“I wanna apologize,” Mike began; still gripping Chica’s oversized hand as he wrung the words from his mouth. “I kissed Foxy. She- We were talking, and things got a little heated, but… I should have-”
	“Mike,” the animate mascot halted his rambling apology with nothing more than a single word and a sober expression. Too much had been said already for her to simply let him revel in self-pity before pretending everything was normal again; Spring had made sure of that. But even if the bunny hadn’t spilled the beans, Mike’s reaction to this whole thing was proof enough that she had no other choice than to fess up and come clean. “We both know you have nothing to apologies for. Spring wasn’t lying; I’ve… been encouraging the others to flirt with you.”
	Mike kept his quivering lips sealed tight as he studied her face; looking for answers amidst her mock-avian features.
	“I- I honestly thought you would enjoy it,” Chica continued; forcing herself to meet his eyes while she spoke, and face her shame head-on. “I know you and the others are pretty close, and that’s always been fine by me. I’m glad, actually; it makes us all feel like part of a weird little family. It was only after Foxy told me why you were freaking out last night that I realized how much all of this was bothering you.”
	“W-why would you even do that in the first place?” the guard sputtered; trying to rein in his emotions at least until hearing her side of things. “Has all of this really just been some game to you?”
	“No!” Chica insisted. “It’s just- I- I’ve never really had anything like this before, and I guess- I guess I just thought you would like all the extra affection. I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.”
	“Then explain it!” he demanded.
	Coming off more forcefully than intended, Mike took a moment to recompose himself before following up with an almost pleading, “Please.”
	In spite of her lack of proper lungs or any real need to breath, Chica inhaled sharply and let out a deep breath.
	“I- I’m not sure where to start; not without going back pretty far anyway.”
	With a sigh of his own, Mike replied flatly, “If we really are getting things out in the open, then I might as well hear it.”
	Chica nodded and thought back in her long, strange life; searching her memory for the best possible place to start unraveling the unlikely events leading up to tonight.
	“Well, it’s kind of a dumb story. And this franchise was practically built on dumb stories, so that’s saying something, but… Let’s see. I don’t have exact dates or anything, but about a decade ago, someone got the bright idea of trying to rebrand Freddy’s as an adult entertainment venue.” Chica looked over to see the skepticism already showing on her companion’s face. “I know, I didn’t think it was a good idea either.”
	“That explains one thing,” Mike conceded. “The fact that you have those parts is, well, it’s not something I’ve just taken for granted, but it always seemed like a touchy subject. I mean, nobody else who works here even seems to know you have them. It certainly wasn’t in my employee orientation; I’ll tell you that.”
	Chica smiled a little; happy that Mike was still open enough to let some levity shine through his otherwise strained mood.
	“It’s not something many people are aware of. Most of us are second hand at best, so even franchise owners and technicians are usually clueless about our full capabilities,” she concurred with his assessment. “As for the whys of it: Heck, even I’m not one-hundred percent sure. I heard some words thrown around about the need to rebrand and “nostalgia based eroticism” or something like that, but whatever the reason, Fazbear’s HQ spent millions retrofitting dozens of their older robots to look like, well, me.”
	“Guess I can’t be too judgmental,” Mike scoffed while eying her unmistakably feminine body up and down.
	“I’d say you’re about the only one then, because even from the beginning, nobody really had faith in the venture. You notice I don’t exactly have all of the traditional feminine features.” Chica then cupped her shapely but conspicuously barren chest. “Not to mention my convenient ability to hide the main selling point of this shiny new body.”
	“Yeah, that’s a good point,” Mike couldn’t help but agree; everything about her seemed just functional enough to indulge in, but still outwardly safe enough to remain inconspicuous to anyone who didn’t know what to look for.
	“Now, granted, nobody actually told me anything, but from what I picked up, this was a pretty troubled time in Fazbear’s history. People were fired, records where destroyed, lawsuits were being thrown around left and right; it was a mess. I think during the project, someone in charge was smart enough to know that it was doomed to fail; hence all the half-measures. Obviously they were right, and when the whole thing was inevitably canceled, they cut their losses and shifted all the modified robots back into their regular inventory without really acknowledging why we were all so advanced.”
	Sidetracked as they had become, Mike was fascinated. For such an infamous company, he had never once heard a peep about any of this. It must have taken a fortune and an inconceivable amount of backroom dealing to make this particular facet of history go away. But the thing that amused him most, was that for all the effort they put into covering up the project, someone somewhere still decided it was a good idea to let all of the upgraded models continue to serve their old function; still fully equipped, and still only one slip-up away from creating the biggest public relations nightmare the brand had ever faced. It seemed like such an obvious oversight, but the sheer absurdity of it lined up perfectly with many of the other questionable decisions the franchise had made in the past.
	“So that’s how you ended up here?” Mike asked curiously. “Bought from the excess stock of some… I don’t know, sexbot surplus?”
	“Nah, there was another place before this. A new franchise that they sent a few of us upgraded models too all at once.” Chica chuckled wistfully to herself as she pulled her legs inward; leaning forward and resting her arms and chin on her knees. “Of course, none of us had any idea how to manage our new parts. During the day, we were all the model of respectability, but once the place cleared out and we were left to our own devices…” she wavered her head from side to side. “I mean, what else was supposed to happen? Suddenly a bunch of us are put together in an empty building with scary new urges and the parts to use them. I probably got laid more times in the first few days than you and I have in the past month.”
	“I uh, don’t know if I wanna hear about this particular detail,” Mike replied pensively.
	“Right, sorry. If it’s any consolation, you’ve easily been my favorite. By a pretty wide margin, even.” Much as she tried to appease him, the guard remained unconvinced, but gave her a token nod and tried not to think too much about it. “Anyway, when that place shut down and I came here, I was pretty shocked to find that both Spring and Foxy were like me: all prettied-up and full of inappropriate holes. But unlike me, neither of them had really come to terms with their upgrades.”
	“How long ago was that?”
	Chica thought for a moment. “Four years, two weeks, and sixteen days,” she answered as if pulling such a specific number was an effortless task. Though, to her, it probably was. “Can you imagine? More than half a decade scared of their own anatomy. It would be like me going all my life not wanting to acknowledge my beak or tail. Spring was at least willing to experiment after a little while, but Foxy… For the first year she would get upset with me just for mentioning the idea of our parts.”
	As it turned out, Mike could imagine that pretty well. Spring was always up for fun, but unlike Chica, didn’t really take risks without being prompted first. As for Foxy, the fact that she was indulgent as she was already struck him as odd. It must have taken some serious convincing to get her out of her shell.
	“I take it you managed to help them out of their funk?” Mike asked; already know the answer.
	Chica pulled back from her knees and looked at him uneasily.
	“This is where things get sort of… roboty. It also kind of ties back into why I was okay with them hitting on you,” she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and Mike once again felt the all to familiar pang of awkwardness creeping back into the conversation. “You know how we can talk to one another over the building’s wifi?” He nodded slowly. “Well we can do other stuff too. Most of it is pretty mundane, but one of the cooler abilities is copying snippets of memories onto the building’s server. It puts a pretty big strain on the system, but it perfectly feasible. It’s basically just a different application of the program we use to update our firmware or edit in new attributes that corporate thinks we should have.”
	“Wait,” Mike was starting to get a little uncomfortable at where this was going. “So is it just copying what you see or hear? What are the mechanics here?”
	“It’s everything,” Chica said with an awkward smile. “Sights, sounds, touch; even thoughts and emotions; at least the ones felt at the time. It’s not exactly a prefect recreation, but it’s enough that when you -or, we, I guess- download the data, were basically remembering parts of another person’s life.”
	Now he was really getting uncomfortable; and Chica was clearly aware as she steadied her voice to be as soft and even as she could possibly manage while making her appeal.
	“You gotta understand: Spring and Foxy were so unnerved by their upgrades because they never got the chance to put them to use like I did. So I figured that the best way for them to understand that there was nothing to be afraid of, was to just let them see for themselves.”
	Mike had no idea how to respond. It all sounded fairly straightforward coming out of her mouth, but to him, this was the kind of speculative science-fiction he expected from pop-psychologists or cyberpunk authors.
	“So…” he rubbed his head and stared down at the floor beneath him. “So you’re telling me, you let them tap into your memories and watch you- er, remember, your past sexual encounters, so that they would get over their… their uh…” Mike felt like his brain was about to shut down. This really was a lot to take in.
	“You got it,” Chica nodded affirmingly; well aware that he was just barely able to process all this, but far too deep into her explanation not to see things all the way through. “After they got a little more comfortable with the idea, the three of us started experimenting with each other, and over time we all just sort of fell into the role of being… lovers, I guess? It was never really something anyone put a label on. I mean, it was what we were built for, and we all just did what we did, you know? It’s not like there was any other outlet for it. Not until you got hired anyway. And uh, I guess you know everything after that.”
	Mike let out a heavy sigh. He may not have known everything, but giving the information she had just told him, he could make some fairly informed guesses; none of which he was particularly keen on analyzing. There was one thing, however, that he couldn’t ignore. One detail that she had been leading up to this for almost the whole conversation now, and that there was no getting around. Even if he wanted to, at some point reality was going to set in, and the sooner he acknowledged it, the sooner he could find a way to move on.
	“Next you’re going to tell me that you’ve been sharing your memories of our time together with the others, aren’t you?” Mike asked matter-of-factly.
	Chica stiffened, and her body squirmed ever so slightly against him as she tried to find a way to confirm his fears as tactfully as possible.
	“You have to understand.” There was that phrase again; signifying that he probably wasn’t going to like whatever she said next. “We had all been doing this for so long, it just seemed natural at the time. I didn’t realize how serious things were going to get between us; not until you started throwing around words like “girlfriend” or “relationship” anyway. And by then- Do you know how rare it is for anyone to treat us like more than property?”
	“Trust me, I’ve heard this one from Foxy already,” Mike grumbled bitterly.
	“Then you should understand why a little bit of compassion can become so addictive to bots like us,” Chica slouched a little, and her voice went quiet. “Even if it’s only secondhand for the two of them.”
	Mike said nothing at first. One disaster of a relationship and years of self-imposed celibacy made the concept far more familiar to him than she could guess; and in spite of their exotic coping methods, the end results were no more different than the megabytes of elicit pictures and poorly written works of fiction stored on his computer at home. The truth was, the more Chica explained things, the more uncomfortably sympathetic he grew towards their plight.
	“I can’t say I’m okay with any this,” he responded in ambivalence to all of her desperate reasoning.
	“I know,” Chica acknowledged grimly. “But I also know you care about Spring and Foxy too. I’ve seen it. I was just the one who got lucky and jumped on you first.” She shifted again; pushing him forward and scuttling behind him so that he was sitting inside her lap. Mike allowed her the indulgence -mostly out of pity- and went limp as she slid her arms around his stomach and pulled him back into her chest. “I figured if you actually made a move on one of them, I could- I don’t know, I’d have them ping me, and then I could rush in and catch you in the act. And then you’d be all embarrassed, and right when you think I’m going to freak out- Bam! I jump in and we all fool around together.”
	Mike pulled away from her grip and leaned forward; twisting his head back to eye her incredulously while Chica smiled to herself at the ridiculous notion.
	“Believe me, I already know it’s totally just a trashy fantasy. I just wanted an easy out.” She then eased him back toward her and motioned him to slip lower in her lap; clutching him loosely around the chest and placing her chin on the top of his head in one last bid of intimacy before the moment of truth finally arrived. “But that was wrong. I should have told you the truth that night we made things official. I should have told you everything; even if you weren’t comfortable with it. We could have found a way to work past it then; before it all went sideways. I… I should have-”
	There were a lot of emotions Mike had seen Chica express before; sarcasm, lust, pettiness, more sarcasm; but in all their time together, this was a first. Though she lacked the ability, it was clear that as she choked through her words and meekly hugged him from behind, Chica was crying.
	Practically on instinct, Mike wriggled up out of her hold just enough to catch a glimpse of her welling eyes and trembling beak. Regardless of the circumstances, it was a sight he loathed seeing, and he quickly set to work comforting her with an arm around the shoulder and a nuzzle to the side of her head.
	“Alright Chica. Alright,” he kept his voice calm and placid. “This is… a lot, but I can forgive. You need to promise though: No more secrets. Not now, not ever.”
	“Deal,” she sniffed.
	“And no more memory sharing whatever,” he quickly added. “It’s gonna take me a while to really wrap my head around that one, but I already know for a fact that it’s a huge invasion of my privacy.” He paused; contemplating weather or not to say what was on his mind next. “Even though it is sort of flattering, I guess.”
	Chica let out a small chuckle and pulled her head away from his; flashing him a cheeky grin through the receding veil of sorrow inundating her face. It was a look that told him he had gone too far; that he had given her the bait she needed to turn this around on him.
	“Oh, I think you’re understating things there,” the mascot said playfully through the dissipating remnants of her grief.
	“What- What are you on about?” Mike retorted; prompting Chica to run a hand down his stomach and over his lap.
	He froze the instant he felt it. At some point, he must have gotten a little too flattered, because he was currently popping a painfully apparent tent that Chica was now enthusiastically fondling.
	“I uh, I can explain that,” he stammered defensively.
	But it was too late; she had him, and this was only going to end in one way.
	“Oh I bet you can,” Chica beamed back; dominantly gripping the bulge in his pants and smiling with venerated glee. “I bet somewhere deep down you love the idea that all your little girlfriends are getting off to your acts of virility.” She began moving her hand up and down; jerking him off through the layers of fabric separating his shaft and her curious fingers. “Remember Mike, you said it yourself: No more secrets.”
	Bring her other hand into play, Chica swiftly unraveled his belt and fly; tugging his slacks and briefs away from her prize and exposing it for both to see. Then, for a moment, the frisky bird let his liberated manhood hang there in all its shameful glory; pristine and -relatively- unmolested as it stood erect beneath her animate eyes, before she took it within her palm and gave it a vigorous squeeze.
	“Ch-Chica…” Mike gasped as he tensed in her grip; far too disoriented by the physical and psychological assault on his senses to do much more than mindlessly react to her advances.
	“Oh come on now, no need to be shy,” she goaded him on. “Don’t tell me you don’t like the idea of Springy and Foxy getting all hot and bothered over you. You should see the stuff they get up to whenever the get a taste of us together.” She began stroking him as she spoke; her actions soft and subtle, but her grip mind-numbingly firm as she worked her fingers up and down his aching shaft. “Just tell me the truth. That’s what tonight is all about, remember? Tell me you like the idea of them going wet at the thought of you going down on them. Or fondly reminiscing about the hours we’ve spent just lying together." Chica then smiled impishly. “You know, Foxy really likes those ones: The memories where we just cuddle and tease. Now Spring, let me tell you-”
	“Ah-Alright,” he couldn’t take anymore. His heart was practically thumping its way right out of his chest, and his nerves were teetering on the edge of a total meltdown for every moment she led him on. “I admit it. It’s- It’s… an attractive thought.”
	The look of satisfaction on her face was almost indescribable; not that he could see it. Mike had long since clamped his eyes shut tight as he wormed his way back into her chest; allowing her full control of his body while simply acting as a passenger along for the ride.
	“Ohhh, I knew you’d come around to this, Mike,” she cooed; easing back on her massage while slipping her other hand around his scrotum. “I know you’re nervous, but trust me, this’ll be so much fun.”
	Though her stroking had laxed, Chica still held him commandingly within her arms; gingerly teasing his member in her massive wing while her other hand squeezed and massaged his sack with absolute confidence and control. Never gripping him too tightly, never pushing him beyond exactly where she wanted him to be, the hen made sure that her malleable human companion was always mere moments away from teetering over the edge, yet never quite able to lose his footing without her say-so.
	“That’s right, Mike. See how good it feels to let everything out?” Chica teased one final time; pressing just a little harder as she spoke. The movement was hardly anything; just a jolt -a twinge, really- but it was enough. Mike couldn’t take it anymore. The words she was saying, the ideas she was putting in his head, the motion and the warmth and pressure; it was all too much. His muscles clenched as he thrust upwards spastically against her wing; gasping in shameful ecstasy as she brought the tip of her beak to his ear and eagerly reminded him, “Just remember, you’re cumming for three now. Better make this a good one.”