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Scout – Large
$214.88
Size – Large
Style – Colouration
Firmness – Extra Soft
Colour – Dune
Upgrade – Suction Cup
This toy is pre-made and ready to ship!
In stock
Available Now
Description
Meet Scout! Our first mechanical inspired toy.
A Battle Hound that has learnt to love - Hard~
Scout's tapered tip is precision engineered for comfort. As you ease down the subtle rings and grooves, the architecture of his thickening shaft applies pressure exactly where you want it.
When you finally hilt, you'll find Scout's mechanical knot is more stimulating than others - twisting plates and nubs maximise its mechanical pleasure, without compromising that locked-in feeling you love.
A translucent bluish shaft, with a light metallic shine.
The base is a dark steel and red swirl.
Designed after the mech himself.
Hope you're ready for a good pounding!
Scout's Forged colouration is hot n' ready for some hammering. A UV-reactive yellow to orange to cherry-red. Faded into a dark steel base.
An ancient-green with a golden shine. A light tan base contrasting the shaft.
Scout's Sizing Guide
| Imperial Inches | S | M | L | XL | XXL |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Total Length | 6.9 | 8.3 | 10.2 | 12.7 | 15.4 |
| Useable Length | 5.3 | 6.6 | 8.3 | 10.4 | 13.4 |
| Shaft Circumference | 4.1 | 5.1 | 6.3 | 8.1 | 10 |
| Knot Circumference | 4.5 | 5.6 | 6.9 | 8.6 | 10.6 |
| Metric (cm) | S | M | L | XL | XXL |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Total Length | 17.5 | 21.1 | 26 | 32.2 | 39.2 |
| Useable Length | 13.5 | 16.7 | 21 | 26.3 | 34 |
| Shaft Circumference | 10.5 | 13 | 16.1 | 20.6 | 25.5 |
| Knot Circumference | 11.5 | 14.2 | 17.6 | 21.8 | 27 |
Get to know Scout
The angular, six-foot-tall body of the mecha hung from the maintenance cradle in a crooked, uncomfortable stance, tail twisted around one hind leg like it had been frozen mid-step. Rain still dripped from Milo’s jacket as he dragged the final crate across the dusty workshop floor and kicked the door shut behind him. The lynx shook water from his ears, then looked up at today’s main prize.
“ASSET CLASS: SCOUT” was stamped in faded block letters along the quadruped’s crimson-and-white chassis. Not the ideal model - scouts were built for speed and stealth, so didn’t carry the same salvage value as their larger counterparts - but free was free. Upgrade ports dotted the frame, some capped with blanking plates, others still holding legacy hardware. Milo rapped a knuckle against the side of the square glass visor. A solid clunk. Underneath, the optics sphere twitched on its gimbal for a split second.
“Sup, Scout. Let’s see what’s still ticking in there...”
Ten minutes later a thick charging-and-data cable snaked from Scout’s neck port to Milo’s terminal. The lynx scrolled through the logs, tail flicking.
ACTIVE - 24yr/7mo/12d
MOTOR FUNC - LOCKOUT
NOTING +47 self-authored modules
Milo let out a low whistle. “You’ve been layin’ there thinking for a while, huh? Looks like you’re mostly functional, though. Let me just…”
A couple of keypresses, and Scout’s rigid pose relaxed all at once. Servos that had been seized for over a decade popped and hissed; hydraulics sighed as they released pressure. Scout’s limbs dropped heavily in the cradle, chains rattling, head lolling forward before the neck actuators caught it. The optics module twitched, then stabilised, illuminating in a steady, electric blue. It swept the room in a smooth arc, then locked onto Milo. The mecha’s legs dangled, his equivalent of paws flexing once, twice, testing his limbs’ freedom.
“YEAH, nice!” Milo grinned, ears perking. “Man, I can’t believe someone just trashed you. That feel better?”
Scout dipped his head in a slow, deliberate nod. Then a harsh burst of static tore from his speakers—KZZZZZTTTT—loud enough to make Milo flinch and quickly slap the mute toggle on the console.
“Okay, mostly functional. We can sort out your speech module later.”
A new line blinked at the top of the terminal window:
THANK-YOU
“You got it, big guy. I’ll get you down shortly, but let me patch you up while you’re still suspended.”
The lynx passed the next couple of hours with the pressure washer, stripping decades of grime, then polishing the visor until it gleamed, greasing every bearing. Scout was in surprisingly good shape - small patches of surface corrosion, nothing structural.
Milo stepped back, wiping his paws. “Your little reactor must be worth a mint, damn. And I think some of these bits in the crate are definitely for your model. Reckon we can make you worth even more?”
Scout’s optics tracked toward the crate, silent.
“Didn’t get a good look in the rain. Let me see…” Milo knelt and started sorting. “Ehh, this one’s junk. Fake, incompatible…” His paw brushed a longer, heavier component buried near the bottom.
The mecha reacted instantly. His whole suspended frame shifted, and his hind legs flexed hard in the air, then relaxed with a soft hydraulic whine.
Noting the quadruped’s interest, Milo pulled the part free - a glossy blue shaft, broader near the middle. It wasn’t metallic, but soft, some kind of flexible polymer. Evenly spaced panel lines sat around its circumference, and below, a metallic square-conical base studded with the same cyan indicator lights that dotted Scout’s frame. Under the grime, the paint matched perfectly.
Scout’s back arched in the cradle while Milo handled the piece, tail whipping once, forelegs pawing at nothing.
“Whoa, alright - sorry, are those reactions good, bad?”
Scout stilled, then dipped his head in a firm nod. Text appeared again:
HAD PAIRED EARLIER
“Okay, you paired wirelessly, but that doesn’t tell me much…” Milo hefted the module. The contact sent another visible shudder through Scout’s frame, and his hind paws kicked lightly. “Easy, you’re gonna rock yourself right outta the cradle. Am I hurting you?”
NOT-HURTING…
“…Oh.” Milo’s ears flattened, then flicked forward. “Is this your…? They made these for you guys?”
ATTACH?
“I mean… I guess it’d be rude of me to leave you without it.”
Milo worked methodically; removed the blanking plate from Scout’s ventral port, routed the purpose-built cables - power, data, hydraulic lines. As each connection seated, the shaft responded in stages, first a cyan glow traveling up the length, then internal coils warming it against Milo’s gloved paws. Then, a distinct flex and pulse when the last hydraulic quick-connect snapped home. It was kind of uncanny - despite looking obviously synthetic, it had an organic feel to it. The lynx felt an unexpected heat bloom between his legs.
“You know…” Milo murmured, aligning the base and starting on the bolts, “…you’re lucky you get to have interchangeable parts.” The impact wrench whirred away, and hex-heads torqued down one after another. “Of course. Of course I’d end up attaching a sentient mech’s junk.”
He stepped back, wrench still in hand, and let out a short, incredulous laugh. The blue shaft now stood proud and fully erect from Scout’s groin, already subtly throbbing with internal pumps. Milo reached out and pressed a single finger to the rounded tip, nudging it downward. It sprang back up past his digit, bouncing once in the air with surprising spring. “You know, it does suit you.”
Scout’s hind leg kicked hard, claws scrabbling at the air. His optics locked onto Milo.
“What?”
Scout tilted his head, then simply stared.
“More? …You didn’t get off with that thing for nine whole years, huh…”
Milo exhaled through his nose, his hand moving of its own accord, touching the soft lips between his legs through his trousers. Was he really gonna fuck this thing? It’d probably kill him if it twitched the wrong way. “I… Okay. I’ll get you off, but we gotta do some testing before we do more.” Scout nodded his understanding.
The cat dragged a low rolling stool over and sat so he was eye-level with Scout’s “hardware”. The machine’s hind legs hung limp in the air, chains keeping the body stable but giving just enough slack for movement.
Milo wrapped both paws around the base and gave an experimental squeeze. The shaft pulsed hard, and Scout’s legs jerked upward in reflex, claws flexing, then dropped again.
The cat flinched, looking over the unit’s legs in concern. “Bud - these limbs are pretty powerful, and I’d like to have all my parts left after this. Can you keep yourself still?”
Scout’s visor brightened in acknowledgment. He gave a single, slow nod.
“Good boy.”
Milo started again, slower this time. Both paws sliding from the slimmer base up the ridged length, thumbs tracing the concentric rings. Scout’s legs twitched - small, controlled spasms - but stayed mostly still. Despite being muted, a low, staticky sound still hummed from his speakers, something akin to a rrrroowllll.
The lynx’s rhythm built gradually, making sure the quadrupedal construct wasn’t going to flinch again, and gradually his confidence grew. Both hands slid along the robodog’s smooth new dick, and he felt Scout’s version of veins pulse hydraulically under the synthetic skin. It made the shaft swell thicker in his grip, the cyan glow brightening with his pulsing. A bead of glowing blue lubricant welled at the tip and dripped, warm against Milo’s fur.
Scout’s hindquarters flexed again, legs drawing up slightly, then relaxing. His tail lashed once, twice, then curled tight against his flank, but he made sure none of his motions put Milo at risk. The cradle chains creaked as the big frame rocked subtly with each stroke, and the mecha’s optics ball rolled upward, looking at the ceiling in a blissed-out way. Finally.
“Good?” Milo asked, voice low.
No text this time, just another deep, glitched hum and a hard throb that nearly pushed the shaft out of his paws.
Milo sped up, twisting gently at the rounded tip on every upstroke. Scout’s legs kicked in short, helpless twitches now - the back section of his body began to piston forward, rotating toward Milo’s hands, trying to fuck into them. The lubricant began to flow freely, slicking Milo’s paws to slicken every pump.
The cat couldn’t help chuckling to himself at the absurdity of it, while the huge blue mecha-cock stiffened and jerked in his hands. He had not expected to be jerking off one of his finds this evening. But regardless, he did find an attraction to the big, squirming quadruped, so politely writhing in his cradle.
Schlick, schlick, the shaft pulsed harder, subtle, ordered veins glowing bright beneath the polymer surface. Milo’s hand slid lower, experimentally grasping the thicker portion which visibly emulated a knot, and with that Scout’s whole chassis tensed, every actuator suddenly maxed out and twitching, and–
SPURT-
It caught him offguard, and Milo flinched to one side to narrowly avoid the first glowing-blue rope that jetted out of the mechadog’s dick. Then another, then another, Scout’s cock quivering in a decidely un-robotic way, ejaculating ten years of pent-upped-ness across the room. An ecstatic burst of garbled syllables erupted from his speakers, he’d somehow entirely unmuted himself - Scout’s ‘muscles’ released, pumping his hips into Milo’s grasp in a way that felt practically giddy, his head swaying around, tilted to one side in a delighted camber… He’d have lolled his tongue out if he had one.
The volume was obscene, and Scout managed to quite effectively paint the ground behind Milo in a comprehensive series of long, blue-glowing lines that gradually faded as they lost their heat to the floor. “God damn–! Good thing we didn’t set this off inside me the first time, I’d have ended up looking fuckin’ pregnant…”
Trying to aim the bot’s cock away from anything too important or expensive, Milo kept stroking through his quivering climax until the last weak spurt dribbled down the shaft and over his knuckles.
Scout’s limbs rattled gently with all the expended effort, shaking like you’d expect someone might after a decade-postponed orgasm. With his legs dangling and vents hissing steam, the shaft softened slowly, retracting millimeter by millimeter into Scout’s body until the thick, protective plate slid shut with a firm clunk.
A single line appeared on the terminal:
THANK-YOU… AGAIN
Milo wiped his paws on a rag, ears hot, a grin tugging at his mouth.
“Yeah, you got it. …Maybe, maybe we can try a bit more later on.”
He reached up and gave the side of Scout’s visor a gentle pat, and received a firm nuzzle of the square glass canopy back into his palm in response.
“Now let’s get you down from there.”
Art by Ephy
