Richter, the garage-startup parts designer

Richter wasted no time getting back home. He had a mission, a need. After weeks, he finally had the answers he was looking for so desperately. He triple checked the calculations, compared all of his schematics--this was the one. Finally, he'd be able to do it.

Fabricating was hard. The actual physical construction came easy to Richter, even more easily than designing his custom body-modifications and cyborg replacements. But without a good line of metal and other parts, he had to make due with what he had available for his neighborhood clients. Some of them were counting on him.

Living at his parents' house and working out of their garage wasn't so bad. Cheap rent and free food meant he could put his focus and attention into his work. He had dropped out of high school two years ago to try to make a difference for his home, and for the people that lived in the same or worse conditions than him and his family. Richter started building new upgrades from scrap then and there, and he hadn't slowed down since. And, now that he was legal, he could finally start implanting his designs into himself, increasing his workflow and capability to all-new heights.

But that wasn't going to be for a while. For the things he had in mind, Richter was going to need high quality materials that just weren't available. Not to a one-man business with no installation license. It was a miracle that there weren't any laws against doing custom body work without a license, as long as he didn't charge for it. Of course, the people he helped were more than eager to donate, even if it didn't even come close to the costs of those parts he had to buy third-party when the junk he found lying around couldn't cut it. Not to mention the labor.

All of that struggle and trial was what he'd signed up for, though. He knew it would be hard--financially and emotionally. Richter could only hope that he'd be able to sell his designs one day, and really start doing good on a bigger scale. Maybe he could even rival Tiffany, Inc. one day.

After a few more presses of his soldering iron, the young inventor was ready to screw in the last plate on the leg he had been working on. He had traveled ten hours outside the city to scour a junk yard for a few bits of scrap that, together, could be recycled into one very expensive part. One that was vital to make this new cyborg leg work.

Richter adjusted his safety glasses and casually ensured that his work apron was covering his otherwise-exposed groin. He did greatly enjoy having the freedoms of nudity afforded to legal adults, but electronics work was still dangerous.

Gently, he set the freshly-shaped plate onto the exposed section of the mechanical leg, lining the internal screws up with the appropriate holes with care. Once he was satisfied that it was set neatly, he reached for his magnetic screwdriver, never daring to take his eyes from his subject.

"Richter honey, are you in here?!" a loud, feminine voice shouted as the door from the house into the garage swung open, hitting and clanging against some metal shelving set behind its radius.

Into the garage, swaying with sexuality and volume, was Richter's topless mother, sporting a tight fishnet skirt that touched her decorated toes. Her breasts nearly swung into Richter's hand as he tried desperately to reach for the screwdriver that he had dropped on the intrusion.

"Mami-- gah!" he exclaimed as the tool hit the floor. He got up out of his seat, crawling on the dirty garage floor to reach for it. From behind, his young and fit mother affectionately gripped the round edges of his butt, held in the air. "Jesus ma, I'm trying to work on a thing for AJ!"

"Oh honey I know, I know. I just cant believe I have an eighteen year-old who doesn't want to come out with his parents!" she declared with a mix of excitement and disappointment. "I just checked my social media, there's an orgy right in our neighborhood tonight! You remember the Dennises, right? They have that hot twenty-two year old daughter who just got her cy-boob job? C'mon, your _papi _and I are going; you'll love it!"

"No, mother!" Richter said forcefully, standing up with his tool in-hand and erection in the other. After a moment, he released the grip on himself from over his apron, bringing both his arms down as he looked at his mom. "I'm too busy, I can't go out and have sex all the time. People are counting on me."

"Oh, baby." she replied, a frown of understanding in her eyes. She grabbed his head lovingly with her long, metal fingers, caressing his hair as she held his face to her bare chest. He sighed as she continued. "I know how important all this is to you. I'm sorry I only want to spend time with you."

Richter's mother released her grip, and as he fixed his apron and returned to his seat, she turned to go back into the house. "Tell you what, I'll leave you alone, but you have to let me invite that Dennis girl over sometime to fuck you while you work. It'll do you a lot of good~!"

The door closed. He was alone again in the garage workshop, with only a screwdriver, a leg, and a raging erection.

No, he needed to focus.

He ensured the plate was still in place on the metal limb, set his magnetic screwdriver against the denotation for the screw--concealed under the plate, inside--and let the tool rotate it into place. Then he did the next one. And finally the third.

"It's done." he said to the empty room. "Gosh, AJ is gonna be psyched!"

He carefully packed the new leg into a large case--the only case he had, that he used to transport all of his custom work, no matter the size--and hastily slipped his apron off. It was a little warm under the smog today, so he put on only a pair of comfortable sweatpants, not worrying too much about how far up his legs he had them yet before stepping out the side door and into the yard.

With the heavy transport case in hand, he set off down the road to his neighbor's--AJ's--house to deliver the piece.