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This was a mess; just one look at the mangled arm stuck halfway transformed made him inwardly cringe, and outwardly growl with rage.
Hook was usually a very reasonable, mild-mannered mech. But sometimes, he just wanted to bite some heads off.
“When,” he asked exasperatedly, “are you ever going to shut up and stop antagonizing bigger and stronger mechs than you? No, no, don’t answer that,” he said with a quick gesture, dismissing the answer forthcoming. “I already know the answer: never. Of course you miscreants never try to make my job easier, do you?” he mumbled, placing tool after tool on the tray.
His patient frowned unhappily. "It's not as if I purposely want to end up here!"
Hook glared at him. “Oh, but you do! Why else would you defy our dear leader every few cycles?”
The other mech shrugged. “Because he’s an idiot,” he said simply with a smirk.
Hook snorted. “And you’re an even bigger one, Starscream. Someday, Megatron will get so irate by your ‘Holier Than Thou’ and ‘Better Leader Than You’ll Ever Be’ attitude and will forget to hold back. You’re already lucky enough he didn’t shoot you at full power, or you wouldn’t have an arm left” he grumbled unhappily but not overly concerned; it was the Seeker’s aft on the line, not his own.
Starscream laughed bitterly. “Keep thinking that; I’ll get him before he does, just believe me. I’ll seize the power from his hands someday and I’ll lead the Decepticons to victory!”
“Yeah, right; of course you will,” deadpanned Hook, used to and over annoyed by Starscream’s usual speeches and banter. His lip components quirked. “Funny how he’s not the one who ends up in Medbay after each attempt, though.”
Strascream threw him a poisonous look. “You little…”
Hook narrowed his optics at him. “Ah ah, not insulting the one who’s going to patch you up, my dear Starscream; I could take offense and just… mess up with some essential repairs,” he threatened him in an almost airy manner, though he let an edge of darkness in his tone.
The truth was, he was half-serious and had considered the option before. He expected Starscream to understand that, but apparently, the Seeker wasn’t subtle enough.
Hook always hated doing repairs on the red winged mech; the little glitch had no idea of when to shut up and no appreciation whatsoever for the crane’s hard work, especially with as such limited supplies as they had. At least his two brainless trine mates had the sense to usher a quick ‘thank you’ from time to time, just like the rest of the uncouth grunts he was surrounded with.
Starscream, though… Starscream was a pain he was supporting less and less each time he ended in his care.
Already, the Seeker boomed with mirthless laugher. “You? Deliberately messing up a repair? Don’t make me laugh, Constructicon! You’re too much of a perfectionist to ever consider the idea,” he sneered, disdainful.
Hook kept his faceplates blanks, but inside, he was seething. Oh, he was so going to make him pay… But Starscream was right on a point: he just couldn’t do something wrong on purpose; it would be going against every protocols and directives in his CPU.
This didn’t mean, however, that he couldn’t find another way to punish the lithe Seeker…
“Open your medical emergency lines,” he said brusquely, motioning for a bit of plating on the winged mech’s arm. “Sooner it’s done, sooner you’ll get the Pit out of here.”
“With pleasure,” sneered the elegant Seeker while mentally commanding the panel to retract, exposing three small slots. “I’ve better things to do than to wait in this greasy place for your ‘tender mercies’.”
Hook smiled coldly as he picked up a vial of opaque, green-colored liquid; one end was smooth glass, the other a bit of metal. “What’s that?” asked Starscream suspiciously. Paranoia, in the Decepticon’s mindset, was warranted; you never knew when your ‘partner’ was going to stab you in the back. Of course, Hook was a medic of sort, and as such, the Seeker pretty much doubted the green and purple mech would cause further injury to his patient, but you never knew…
The medic shrugged. “A simple anesthetic. It will keep your sensors to online again as soon as I touch them,” he explained impatiently.
Starscream frowned. “You don’t use one usually…”
Hook snorted. “Usually, my dear, I don’t treat patients for half transformed, partially melted arms stuck at completely wrong angles. If I don’t keep a way to totally numb your sensors, you’re going to scream in agony the moment-“
“My sensors are already numbed…” he started to protest.
Hook cut him out. “Because you send the commands to and keep a stubborn optic on them,” he pointed out; it was the usual method for injured Decepticons; anesthetic were a luxury for certain, and a pointless thing typical of the soft-sparked Autobots in the first place. Hook considered them a necessity which made his job easier, though he didn’t have a large supply of them and used each vial with patrimony. “Admirable of you, I admit, but once I start cutting in, how long do you think you can keep up the façade before you crumble in a pool of tears?” he continued, smirking at the Seeker while twirling a scalpel between his fingers.
Starscream didn’t answer and barely restrained himself from snarling; he hated to admit someone else could be right. Prideful creatures, those Seekers… Far too proud and not curious enough – oh, Starscream was a tad clever than his average kin frames, but not nearly enough in his mind, mused Hook as Starscream reluctantly held his arm ready for injection; Hook placed the vial over one slot –the largest, circled by a ring of blue paint – and twisted, allowing the two to connect. A small needle slid out of the metal seal and plunged into the medical port, and the vial started to empty himself into the Seeker’s mains energon lines.
“I didn’t think you still had any painkiller lying around,” mused Starscream as he watched the liquid enter his system with something akin to fascination.
Hook hummed. “Not much, I’m afraid, but I still have some in case of emergency. I added a request for more on about every lists of items we sent to Cybertron, but so far, Shockwave hasn’t seen fit to uphold his end of the bargain,” he groused unhappily.
Shockwave had never ignored his requests, per se, but he never sent what was truly needed; scalpels, metal plates, news wires, replacement optics, copper, pliers, hammers… that, he had no problems giving. But painkillers or anything chemicals… that, the purple mech never gave. Hook wondered why sometimes; so far, he had never found a valid reason, apart from Mixmaster’s not-so secret theory that the Cybertronian general was stockpiling them.
“Someday,” he said almost casually, “I’m going to bribe the Cassettes to bring me some from the Ark when they go over there for surveillance. Unless I formally request Megatron’s help in raiding the Autobots’ base supplies closets.”
Starscream sneered. “As if the Mighty Megatron would ever approve of such a mission!” Hook lips twitched. “If he wants his soldiers in top form, he'd better... Anyway, I do with what I have.”
And what he had, and what he had refrained from telling Starscream, wasn’t actual painkillers, though it did the part.
No, what he had actually given the Seeker was one of Mixmaster latest discoveries: a strong drug which sort of isolated the patient's CPU from their neural connections, mistakenly making them think their body was in no pain, even if an energon dagger was stabbing their spark chamber. The body could be cut away and they would feel nothing at first.
Patients remained conscious through the whole ordeal, though. They were totally out of the loop, so to speak, but conscious throughout, able to perceive very distorted sounds, and able to see a little through what they called an array of disjointed colors, like if they were looking through a prism or a kaleidoscope.
Hook had used it from time to time for emergency surgery; there were little to no after effects, the neural sensors only rebooting after several humans hours, when most of the shock already out of the patient's systems.
It wasn’t the best, but it was all the Constructicons could afford so far.
“How do you feel?” he asked his patient after a few breems.
Starscream turned his head slightly on the side, slowly. “Drowsy,” he whispered faintly, optics unfocused. “It’s kicking in very fast, isn’t it? Oh, by the way… Did you… install another lightning system? It’s… colorful for sure,” he added blurrily. “Pretty lights,” muttered the drugged Air Commander, his optics offlining and onlining sporadically.
Hook nodded and hummed for himself. Perhaps the dose he gave the Air Commander had been a tad too strong… But at least, now, he wouldn’t have to suffer the sarcasm and whining the red Seeker seemed so fond of submitting him to each time he ended up in the Medbay.
“Well, time to work; don’t worry, I’ll do my best, like usual,” he said with irony as Starscream turned his head toward him and frowned, before becoming almost totally limp.
“Arm is realigned and repaired; your sensory net should kick in and reconnect the nodes anytime now,” he stated calmly, knowing perfectly well that Starscream couldn’t answer and probably didn’t even understood what was being said to him. “Repairs are complete. The ‘painkiller’ will work for another two or three human hours, though; I’m afraid I miscalculated the dose I gave you.” Or not, he added silently for himself. In fact, he had wanted the Seeker to be totally helpless for a bit longer than necessary.
Starscream, however, still stunned, suspected nothing of Hook’s dark thoughts.
The silence had been relaxing; for once, he had managed to operate without the Seeker making snide remarks about his skills as a medic; Hook considered himself to be a talented mech, and even though the medical profession wasn’t his speciality and he certainly was not at the level of, say, Ratchet, the Constructicon still was the best the Decepticons had to offer at the time. Some of his work might have been considered rudimentary or crude, but it was still the best he could do.
And Starscream knew when and where to hit to injure his pride. Fragging Seeker… He wondered idly if the mech was always so cutting and snide with everyone, even his ‘face partners; Seekers were, unanimously, considered a good frag, but with Starscream at his finest, the poor mechs unlucky enough to attract his attention had to suffer through hell and back to…
He paused. Now… that was an interesting idea.
Hook glanced at the Seeker’s immobile and almost silent frame –asides from some little sounds of discomfort, a tad surprising but not unusual; several patients before him had unconsciously started to make various noises of distress, a fact that puzzled Hook to no end; he wondered if it was because the patient’s CPU was realizing he was, in fact, in pain despite the drug’s effects – and started to smile in a predatory way.
“You have very nice legs, Starscream. Very, very nice,” he commented lightly while running a hand down the Seeker’s thighs. The hand moved higher; Starscream giggled, lost in his own little word, and probably not even registering the medic’s word, or if he did, he certainly didn’t understand the meaning hidden behind them. “Especially your thighs, I must admit,” Hook added with a smirk; his hand moved up again, now stroking Starscream’s inner thigh in a pale imitation of carelessness. “They’re smooth, well-shaped, immaculate… perfect,” he purred. “Not many mechs as attractive at you on this rock, you know,” he commented almost unconcerned, still touching the barely responsive mech. “There are Thundercracker and Skywarp, of course, and Soundwave is always nice to look at, but aside of you? The Autodorks have some lookers, I admit, but I so prefer to frag others Decepticons.”
Starscream seemed to tense a little – figuratively, of course; his limbs were still immobile and his optics still lacking in focus, but something had definitively changed in his demeanor. Hook smiled coldly.
Good. Let him understand somewhere in that twisted CPU of him that Hook could do anything he wanted to him, and that the Seeker wouldn’t be able to say ‘no’ or do anything to stop the medic from having some… fun.
Gently, with an almost loving care, Hook put his hands on Starscream’s hips, while his thumbs started to rub the smooth, cool plating covering the winged mech interface array. Had he listened to himself, the medic would have removed all the, in his opinion, unnecessary plating covering the hips, pelvis and aft. However, it would take too long to undo then redo the binding later.
Instead, he settled for just the interface panel, which finally slid away with a soft ‘click’ barely audible; for the first time, Starscream pushed a weak moan as he felt the cool air of the room on his unpressurized cord and bare valve. He tried to move, to no avail; his head barely bobbled back and forth. Hook smirked in victory.
“No need to worry, my dear,” he cooed mockingly. “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.”
Oh, how good it would be to bury himself in the Seeker’s body and ride him long and hard… Nothing could stop him from doing whatever he wanted with the SIC, now. His cord, still hidden behind his own panel, was beginning to swell and throb with need, begging to be released.
Hook about to mentally command his panel to open when he paused, deep in thought.
Something didn’t feel right to him. Frowning, he looked down cautiously at Starscream’s valve. Sure, the Air Commander was down under, perfectly inoffensive and totally ready for the taking, but the Constructicon remained wary. You never knew what surprises Starscream could spring on you. Like, say, a booby-trapped valve? He wouldn’t put it past the sly, traitorous Seeker.
Hook already had to treat the… ‘injuries’ brought down on some unsuspecting wannabe lovers who let their fingers or their into some sensitive area where someone else didn’t want them to; the tears were never pretty to see, and even less to repair. In some case, he even had to deal with limbs or mating appendage totally ripped off.
And he very much liked his fingers (indispensable in his tasks) and his cord, thank you very much.
Regretfully, he got out from between Starscream’s legs and down from the berth, before searching a particular tool on his tray. He smiled in victory when he found it and reverently took the device in one of his hand. With the other, he pressed a few buttons on a panel located on the side of the berth.
One end started to transforms with a whirring sound, separating itself in two parts, such parting Starscream’s legs; Hook watched dispassionately as two metal poles began to emerge from the metal structure near the Seeker’s knees; stirrups were attached to each.
He put Starscream’s pedes into the stirrups; the Seeker moaned slightly in protest, and a hand tried to rise and grab him. Hook shushed him and gently patted the dark helm in mock affection. “Now, now, Starscream; everything’s alright. I just need to make a short valve inspection; it will only take a breem, and after that, we’ll have some fun, the two of us.”
Starscream grunted something, a protest of some sort; Hook laughed airily as he set himself between Starscream widely open legs
Carefully, he inserted the speculum inside; Starscream keened and tensed in his semi-lucid state and tried to move away. Hook gave him a light slap on the knee. “Come on, you big sparkling; I barely started!”
More feeble moans; Hook shrugged and started to separate the two hinged parts, dilating the valve. Hook gently stroked Starscream’s pelvis during the process, muttering small nonsense and praising his good will. Starscream, if he didn’t exactly understand the words, probably understood he was being mocked, and grunted unhappily while trying to kick his pedes; he barely managed to make them shake. Hook’s optics stayed focused on the valve’s entry, searching for any sign of ‘special modifications’.
And, sure enough, there were slight, almost invisible indentations circling the walls of the valve, at about an inch from the edge. Hook smirked in victory.
“Just like I thought! You know, my dear Star, it wasn’t mentioned in your file that you had a toothed ring up your valve; I’ll have to mention it in your medical files… unless I put it away and no one is the wiser?” he said casually. “That would certainly be better, don’t you think? If the news were to be spread through the base, any mech would come to think that you didn’t trust them, or that you were some weak Autobot, hmm? After all, they’re the only one using that little token by now…”
It was perfectly true; toothed rings were a classic protection against would be rapists.
They were made of a semi-flexible and almost invisible alloy, with an open end to be adjusted to the patient’s orifice. Once they were inserted into the valve, minuscule wires connected to the walls. The wires transmitted heat and electrical charges to the inner mechanisms and, depending on the amount of heat and current directed in, the ring would activate or not. Anybody penetrating forcefully would automatically activate the device, as the sparkbeats and electric currents of the victim would spike up immediately, and find himself in a painful predicament when the sharp metal teeth suddenly shot out of their concealment.
Autobots were almost all equipped with toothed rings as a feeble mean of protection in case of capture; Hook had even heard that the paranoid Security Director had two set installed in his own valve… Come to think about it, he seemed to recall that it was Starscream who had propagated the news…
“Did you borrow your little toy from Red Alert?” he almost purred. Starscream tried to shift and moaned again. “You did, didn’t you?” the Constructicon laughed. “My, my, interesting gift he gave you there. Was it one of his owns that you managed to pry away from its hiding place?” A kinky idea, but not an inconceivable one. “Or did he just keep spares around in his subspace pocket?” Which would be weird, but Autobots were like that. Well, weird… carefully paranoid, rather.
Starscream muttered something like ‘not your problem’ and tried yet again to kick him; Hook chuckled as he grabbed a pair of needle-nose pliers and carefully inserted them in the valve. Starscream shuddered and let out a gasp under the contact of the cool metal on the heated wall of his port; a drop of lubricant fell from the edge and crashed on the berth. Hook looked down at the spot and smiled.
“My, aren’t you starting to be revved up! Such a small touch to make you start dripping! Tell me, my dear Air Commander,” he asked slyly while moving the pliers cautiously to grab the toothed ring, “How long had it been since someone rammed his spike up your valve and took you again and again ‘til you couldn’t sit for joors?”Oh, such a crude way to talk coming from him… but really, he couldn’t help himself right now. Starscream tried to kick him again, and once again was barely able to move at all; the Seeker was stubborn like that. Hook was more amused than ever by the act.
“You poor thing… how long have you been craving for a good sparked mech to fill you up? Don’t worry, sweet spark; I’ll take good care of you,” he chuckled. Of course, Starscream certainly didn’t want anyone touching him, but the Seeker was in no shape to protest or push him away.
“I hope you’ll excuse me for the interruption, but I didn’t want to end up with a severed mechhood. Besides, I think it helped you to… get in the mood,” the medic pointed out as he let one of his fingers trace the outer edge of the valve; a small bit of lubricant dripped from the still stretched opening. “Look like I will not have to prepare you too long.”
Laughing for himself, he finally opened his own panel, letting his spike extend to its full length. He positioned himself carefully, aligning his swollen member with the SIC’s port.
Then, without pause, he started to bury himself deeply into the red Seeker; Starscream cried weakly, hands shooting up to push him away, but failing, too weak to do anything more than putting them on the Constructicon’s chest.
“Tight… just like I thought,” gasped Hook, throwing his head back in ecstasy; it felt so good to be surrounded by that hot wetness... “You’re a wonderful fit, you know that?” Starscream just whimpered weakly. Hook chuckled and grasped the Seeker’s waist more tightly, readying himself to give a deeper thrust.
And then, the Medbay’s doors opened. “Hook, why the hell did you lock the doors with a… level… three… alert… code…?
“I swear that someone up there is out to spoil my fun,” he grunted as he rose up his head to meet the face of his gestalt mates.
Silence reigned for a breem, only interrupted by Starscream weak trashing and whimpers, and a “Wha…?” from Scavenger and “Well, frag!” from Bonecrusher.
There was a pause; the five new arrivals remained frozen in their tracks, disbelieving what they were seeing, and Hook glanced briefly at his gestalt brothers with a pout. Still, he didn’t leave his position; he had enough trouble already to get into Starscream’s valve, and he certainly wasn’t going to retire himself before he overloaded.
“If the lot of you would be kind enough to lock the door behind you? I really would hate to be further interrupted,” he grunted without looking at them; he had refocused his attention on Starscream’s face as he began thrusting slowly into him.
“Hook… what do you think you’re doing?”
“What does it look like to you?” Snickered Long Haul, taking a few step forward to better enjoy the view.
“Having some fun; you should try yourself, it beats self-service by a long streak,” Hook commented lightly. Scavenger actually guffawed before throwing a quick apologizing look at his leader.
“Very funny,” deadpanned the leader. “I can see that by myself, thank you. But in the Medbay, and with one of your patient, where anyone can see you?” he raised an optic ridge, arms crossed over his chest. “Not very professional of you, I’ll say. You’d think someone would take offense and have a word with you once it’s over.”
Hook lowered his optics on Starscream’s face; the Seeker was looking at him in a daze, his expression a mild cross between incomprehension, distress, rage and overlapping pleasure, proof enough that he liked being filled up.
The medic glanced at his leader. “First, hardly anyone walks in beside the five of you, though I’ll admit I should have locked the doors better before starting – a level five or six, perhaps? Second, Starscream isn’t just any patient, my dear Scrapper,” he said, shrugging like if the whole ordeal was unimportant. “He’s actually the source of the Creator of all processors aches. But he has some redeeming qualities, one of which I’m currently enjoying. And if that is what is worrying you so much, besides him once he totally wake up, I doubt anyone will care that much,” he added, giving another thrust; Starscream whimpered.
Which, Scrapper mused, was perfectly true; nobody on the Nemesis really liked Starscream, his Trine asides, and Scrapper wasn’t even sure of that. Nobody would comes and play the avenger for the annoying glitch of a mech that was currently moaning helplessly under Hook’s ministrations, unless they were bribed first.
And he doubted Starscream had enough blackmail material or energon cubes at his disposal to bribe anyone with the means to hurt the Devastator gestalt…
“Alright,” he sighed. “Go ahead and do as you please. As for the rest of you,” he said, turning to his others gestalt mates, “We’ve work to do.”
There was some mumble and shifting in the group, but a single glare from Scrapper got them going. Each one started to hit his own workplace, first wanting to put some order in their currents individual projects. It didn’t stop them, though, from throwing leering glances at Hook and his unwilling partner.
Starscream’s hands, that Hook had raised above his head to keep them out of the way, were clenched in tight fists; he had shuttered his optics and his head moved right and left weakly, while pathetic moans escaped him each time Hook moved in and out of his valve. The Seeker was vocal for sure, even in the midst of interfacing.
Scavenger, leaning against a bench, watched the spectacle with interest, feeling the first stage of arousal revving his engines. “Can I get him next?” he heard himself say. Oh Primus, had he really…? Damn… the lot of them shared a lot of things, but a lover? That would be a first… a very interesting one, in fact, should Hook agreed.
Hook paused in his ministrations and turned his head toward his brother. He tilted his head, then threw a quick glance at Starscream, before carefully watching the others Constructicons.
If Scavenger had been the only one to speak, he certainly had voiced a common thought. Bonecrusher had an eager look on his face, fingers intertwined in front of his interface panel. Mixmaster had a very giddy expression about him, even more than usual. Long Haul was watching the drugged Starscream with something akin to rapture. Scrapper looked neutral enough, but he shrugged as Hook stared at him, showing he didn’t care much, but would accept the offer if the crane proposed to share the goods.
“Sure,” he said finally. “Why not?” There was a general cheer from the other Constructicons; it almost eclipsed Starscream small cry of fear, showing that he was lucid enough to understand exactly what was going to happen to him. Hook gently stroked his cheek. “Hush, ‘lil Star; you’re going to enjoy it.”
“Would you mind?” snapped the medic, once he realized everyone was still staring. “I’d like to finish what I’ve started; you’ll get your turn afterward. And if you want to try a double,” he said, thinking about some of ‘Crusher’s kinks, “Go ask someone else; I’m playing solo on this one,” he added, chuckling.
Bonecrusher huffed and went back to his work bench; Mixmaster, next to him, shook his head. “Idiot; and anyway, once Hook-Hook finish with him, I get-get first dibs.”
“Why that?” grunted the bulldozer, unhappy; he didn’t like spoiled goods so much already, but to be left Mixmaster’s scraps?
The cement mixer had a nasty smile. “’cause, you big- big idiot, who do you think-think created the mix Hook pumped into our dear Air Commander’s systems? Without my little cocktail, he would-would currently be screeching like a banshee-banshee and kicking our afts-afts. So I call first dibs,” he concluded, self-satisfied, before he started to cackles and rubs his hands as he watched Hook’s taking his sweet time with Starscream.
Bonecrusher wanted to object, but Scrapper cut him off. “Drop it, ‘Crusher. Let him go second if he wants; I need you here, anyway,” he added, gesturing for the other mech to come and have a look at the plans he was working on. The bulldozer mumbled unhappily, but did as he was told; work before play, fine. He just hoped work wouldn't take too long; Hook’s contented sighs and Starscream’s small noises of discomfort and reluctant pleasure were driving him to distraction every few kliks.
Primus, he was going to crush the crane’s vocalize if he didn’t speed up and finish!
Hook was gradually quickening his pace, his hands grasping more firmly the metal plating of the Seeker’s waist with each trust; he could feel the charge building inside him, growing and growing bringing his closer and closer from overloading and spilling his transfluid into the unwilling body pinned under him, who would be thrashing as the clear liquid issued from his final release filled his valve and dripped out of him along with the rivulets of lubricant…
Hook cried as he finally overloaded, his fantasies having finally pushed him over the edge. Starscream cried too, a sound barely more audible than a turbo-cat mewling, but because he was getting more and more frustrated by the klik.
The medic withdrew his depressurized cable from the quivering valve, noting with satisfaction how much Starscream shuddered. “Close to overload, aren’t you?” he commented gently as he nuzzled his face into the crook of Starscream’s neck. “Sorry, but I can’t help you with that; I’m already spent. However, I’m sure my brothers will help you with that. Won’t you, ‘Crusher?” he called to his fellow Constructicon, who gave the others a victorious smile. Long Haul and Scavenger shared a disappointed look before continuing their work.
Scrapper crossed his arms and sighed exasperatedly. “Fine, go ahead, since Hook gave you the ‘ok’. Anyway, you’re pretty much useless until you get that charge out of your system.” Bonecrusher threw him a nasty look but turned away and walked to the berth.
Mixmaster frowned. “But…”
Hook shushed. “Now, now, my dear Mix, let the others have some fun first.”
Mixmaster didn’t look convinced, so Hook signaled for him to come nearer, and whispered something in his audios. Mixmaster’s optics widened and flashed wildly for a second, before he started to chuckle creepily. “Oh, of course… Seen like that. That’s okay, guy,” he said to the others, “I’ll be the last to have a go. Enjoy our pretty patient!” Then he turned back to his concoction, whistling merrily.
Bonecrusher raised an optic ridge. “Oooookay; what did you say to that maniac to make him behave?” he asked Hook curiously. The medic smirked. “Now, that, my dear, is a secret. Besides, I think you have more… important things to worry about,” he said, running a hand between Starscream still wildly stretched legs. It came back covered in transfluid and lubricant and he took his time to carefully lick off.
Scavenger made a groaning sound. “That’s torture, Hook”, he said crossly. Mixmaster just giggled happily, with a disturbing smile on his face. Long Haul and Scrapper exchanged an exasperate look, and Bonecrusher smiled. “I think I begin to understand…” he said.
Hook smiled back. “Do you? Now, start playing or let someone else have a go.”
“Sure I will… Once I’ve had my own share of fun.” Hook chuckled and turned away, letting the other mech take his place. The crane erased all traces of the previous coupling with a rag he threw aside to be reused later and closed the panel concealing his interface array.
Behind him, Starscream’s weak cry of ‘no’ – the drugs were beginning to fade a little from his systems, Hook guessed, enough to let him make some articulate sounds – was the only clue he needed to know Bonecrusher had not bothered with foreplay before penetrating the Seeker. That, and Mixmaster’s wild cackling; apparently, someone else was enjoying the show.
“Careful still, ‘Crusher,” he called to his gestalt mate as he made his way to the table were Scrapper had put the blueprint for a new weapon and was waiting for him almost impatiently. “I spent the best part of the cycle putting him back in one piece, and I would appreciate that he remains this way.”
“You ruined half of my fun,” said the bulldozer in disappointment, but Hook threw him a sour look, and the Constructicon sighed in defeat. “Okay, okay, I’ll be careful.” Still, he threw a nasty look at Starscream; for once he had a Seeker all for himself, he couldn’t even play properly with him!
The other Constructicons were all watching the discussion with interest; well, not exactly the discussion, per se, but the subject, who was still trying to get away one way or another, moving feebly to disengage his pedes from the stirrups.
Which Scrapper started to find distracting; no matter how nice Hook's 'gift' seemed, they were still here because they had a job to do.
“Go back to work, everyone,” he called out authoritatively. “’facing might be nice, but Megatron wants that weapon operational by the end of the orn, and I don’t fancy facing his wrath if we take any longer.” The others answered by curt answers or small nods and stopped in favor of coming to work on the blueprints.
And so they began talking business seriously, only pausing when Starscream’s whines or Bonescrusher’s grunts became too loud for them to concentrate, and they took a breem or two to watch them going at it.
As for the Air Commander, he was floating in confusion and distress as he painfully tried to understand every message his body transmitted to his CPU. Still, he had his moments of clarity, and what he understood of the situation didn’t make him happy in the least.
Starscream’s vents cycled air more and more quickly. Most of the time, the dazed Air Commander wasn't sure which was up and which was down; his vision was still full of strange lights, like a kaleidoscope. Sometimes, but very rarely, he could actually see the mech on top of him.
His hearing, by contrast, was getting better; when Hook had started to speak to him earlier, he had difficulty even understanding half of the words, even though he could make out the tone and the intention hidden beneath.
The moment the repairs had been completed and Hook had started talking to him and touching him, Starscream, even half unconscious, had understood that Something Not Right was up. The removed pelvic plating and the speculum had been a dead giveaway that something he wouldn’t like was about to happen. He had wanted to kick, vaguely understanding that Hook was Up to No Good, but he had found himself unable to move his limbs more than a few centimeters.
And then the crane had the audacity of putting his fragging cable inside him, as if he was some common pleasurebot! Spawn of a trash compactor! That part, Starscream had perfectly understood even with the drugs; he knew, oh he just knew what was going on. As the Constructicon’s cable entered him, the Seeker had swore he would kill him in the messiest way he could find, as soon as he could move again.
Which, unfortunately, had still yet to happen; whatever the slagging medic had given him, it was good and strong. So far, Starscream had only had flashes of lucidity, but no more power and still unable to move his reluctant limbs.
What added to the wrongness and slow building rage – as well as fear, though the Seeker wouldn’t admit it – was the fact the other Constructicons had decided to take a page out of Hook’s book and imitate his previous actions.
He wasn’t entirely sure of which of them was on top of him, but the mech was rougher than Hook had been. Bigger too; he was racking the walls of his valve furiously, pumping that disgusting member in and out of his body and making him almost scream with pain and pleasure alike.
His vocalize only emitted small, weak sounds, but had it been at full capacity, Starscream’s screeches would have broken glass.
Not that Bonecrusher would have cared, as long as he could still have a good frag out of the Seeker. He would just have found a way to make him shut up, perhaps with a gag; unless he asked one of his fellows if he wanted to get sucked…
Starscream screamed suddenly, his entire body thrashing wildly, back arching against the table.
“Overload,” diagnosed Hook, who had looked up from the plans, with a small nod. “A particularly intense one, even, from the look of it. Either ‘Crusher is getting much better, or Starscream hasn't had much attention lately,” he commented with a sly smile.
Bonecrusher pulled out of Starscream’s body and grunted. “Hah, ha. Very funny.” He barely resisted the urge to plunge back in; Starscream may have overloaded, but he was still stiff, and his cord was throbbing madly.
“Lately? Try a couple of million years,” snorted Long Haul. “I get to be the next,” he called out before anybody else made a claim.
Scavenger pouted but relented quickly; as long as he had his share... “Fine, fine, but I’ll get the next turn!” he glanced at Scrapper. “…Unless you want to?”
Scrapper shrugged. “Not interested for now, perhaps later.”
Bonecursher shook his head. “Don’t care who goes when, but if one of you wants to start right now, I’m not averse to sharing. I’m sure our guest would enjoy a good sucking… Or suck a spike, even,” he leered while stroking his spike lightly. The others laughed.
Long Haul grinned and marched to the table. “Now, that would be nice. Of course, that means we’ll have to change his position,” he said as he disengaged Starscream’s pedes from the stirrup, helped by a reluctant Bonecrusher; the bulldozer had enjoyed the way Starscream had been spread open and stretched, unable to fight back. Then again, in his state, even with his legs freed, he doubted very much that Starscream’s would be trouble. And if he wanted to play his little fantasy, Screamer’s legs needed to be pushed farther apart.
The both of them maneuvered Starscream’s unresponsive body carefully, letting him lean against Bonecrusher as Long Haul sat on the berth and took Starscream’s in his laps, leaning against the two large wings and spreading the Seeker’s legs widely apart as he circled his waist with an arm to keep him from falling down.
Long Haul nuzzled his face against the Air Commander’s neck, engines revving. “You’d have thought he would weight much more,” he said pensively, noticing that the red winged mech didn’t seem to weight as much as his bulk suggested.
Hook, who heard him, shook his head. “Actually, they never do. Most of their weight is usually concentrated in the outer plating, often made of reinforced steel plates to avoid heavy damages during battle, and that’s only since the start of the war; inside, they’re pretty hollow, which give them more subspace for equipment and more agility and speed while in flight. Wings are designed to be almost weightless to help the take off.”
That drew everybody optics to him. “Where did you learn that?” asked a surprised Scavenger, who had never given much thought to the matter.
Hook snorted. “Since I've started having to patch their sorry afts together. I’ve had the time to learn quite a few things about each model I come across. And some of them might be a little chatty when they’re down under.”
Scrapper tilted his head as Hook explained a few more anatomical details of the Seeker’s classic frame, which his teammates were listening to with interest. “Ever solved the mystery of where Prime’s trailer disappears?” he asked curiously.
Hook frowned. “Not yet, and that really bugs me…”
Bonecrusher shook his head and reinstalled himself correctly between Starscream’s spread legs; as interesting as the debate was getting, he had more important and pleasurable things to do… like riding a Seeker. His cord kept throbbing, waiting, begging to be surrounded again with hot, tight wetness.
Long Haul shrugged and with his free hand, removed the covers over his interface array; his cord expanded immediately, even though he wasn’t fully excited yet; like any ‘Con – or any sane mech, period – he truly enjoyed having some… recreational activities. Unfortunately, they were rare and few in-between, due mainly to the sheer unattractiveness of most of the Con army. So, whenever someone actually offered him some frag time, he always jumped on the occasion.
And, without knowing how long he would have to wait until he got the chance to ‘face someone again, between each ‘meeting’, he had created and installed by himself a little mod in his circuitries; the device created a small electric current which allowed him to be stiff and ready for ‘facing anytime… and to remain erect even after a first overload and ready for another round. That usually left his partners very pleased with him.
Starscream, he bet, wouldn’t be added to the list of ‘Satisfied ‘face buddies’, but he didn’t particularly care. The Air Commander was an attractive mech, but he was also a true pain in the aft.
Bonecrusher watched his gestalt brother with a smile; oh, this was definitely going to be fun! “Ready when you are,” said Long Haul with a nod.
Bonecrusher just lifted Starscream’s knees to spread his thighs wider, arranging for one of the red mech‘s leg to circle his waist as he drew nearer and started reentering the Seeker with a cry of blessed satisfaction. Long Haul used his free hand to push two digits inside the port alongside his teammate’s spike. Starscream keened and thrashed a little, sharp cries escaping his vocalize as his optics tried unsuccessfully to trace the movements.
Long Haul and Bonecrusher chuckled, sharing a knowing gaze. The heavy loader let his fingers slide out and carefully, with an almost gentle care – for he didn’t want Hook to get on his case, he started to push his spike inside along with Bonecrusher’s own. He hissed in pleasure and slight pain; damn, the Seeker’s was tight, and with Bonecrusher’s length along…
Still, he took the time to adjust himself to the pressure and started moving along.
The friction was intense; Bonecrusher didn’t know what he found the more pleasurable; the tight wetness of Starscream’s port, or the variable moves of Long Haul’s spike rubbing against his own while he himself rammed his cord erratically in the stretched valve.
Long Haul seemed to enjoy himself too, if the noises he was making were of any indications. Starscream though, from his weak cries and increased thrashing, wasn’t exactly happy with the situation. Bonecrusher wondered vaguely if the Seeker had already taken two cords or more at once in his valve before; he sure could stretch enough to accommodate several ‘facing buddies at the same time… or a mech twice as big as him.
“Doesn’t the stretching remind you of your old pal Skyfire inside you, fragging you senseless, Screamer?” he rumbled darkly, catching the Seeker’s face to force him to look at him; Starscream’s optics were still unfocused and probably unseeing, but by the way he snarled, he certainly understood what the bulldozer was implying. “I bet he had load of fun with you once, didn’t he? How did he take you? On you back, legs kicking with each thrust? On your front, with your aft wriggling at each little stroke? Unless he bent you over your work bench, sending whatever you were doing crashing to the floor in favor of more pleasant… research?” he almost purred, leaning his face dangerously close to the Seeker’s own.
Which, in retrospect, wasn’t the brightest idea he had, for Starscream, even incapacitate and mostly incoherent – though he got better with each passing breem and was silently seething– was preparing his revenge already.
As Bonecrusher’s face loomed nearer, he suddenly spat some unprocessed energon at him, catching him in the optic. The bulldozer jerked back, hastily wiping away the dark smudge obscuring his vision; his cord slid half out of the SIC’s body. “You little tramp!” he screamed, furious and moving a hand around Starscream’s throat, starting to crush it.
Long Haul had the gall to laugh at him even as he continued thrusting his spike in and out alongside his fellow Constructicon. From the slight rumble in the background, he wasn’t the only one to be amused by the previous ordeal. “Cut it out, ‘Crusher; you were so begging for it the moment you loomed so near. Even drugged senseless, our dear SIC isn’t harmless!” said the dump truck with a smile, his grip on Starscream tightening while he nibble the winged mech’s neck, having previously removed a part of his facemask.
“Easy for you to say; you don’t risk much by being behind him,” groused the other Constructicon, unhappy. Long Haul shrugged absently, making Starscream move with him. “I like it this way,” he just said, continuing to thrust.
His pleasure was intensifying; he wasn’t about to overload just yet, but he could feel the charge starting to gather inside him. Hook definitely had a good idea… perhaps he would, ah, ‘recompense’ him later.
Bonecrusher reluctantly released Starscream's throat; there was no fun in trying to strangle a mech who didn't look at you with fearful optics, only unfocused ones. But he started to thrust again, harder and harder this time, not caring anymore about causing damage. He could feel Hook frowning behind him, but the crane didn’t comment.
Starscream, for his part, was now teetering on the edge of consciousness, for he started moaning louder and louder with each move of the bulldozer, and a few drops of cleaning fluid started to run from his optics.
His tears grew bigger when Bonecrusher started to convulse with a deep roar, having finally reached his peak and grasping even more firmly the captive Seeker’s armor; Long Haul, ever pragmatic, noted the metal was starting to dent.
He shuddered as he felt the cool liquid Bonecrusher spilled hitting and sliding all over his own spike, just as the bulldozer removed his own after a last rubbing. There was a small relieved sigh from Starscream, and Long Haul nuzzled him gently. “There, there, it wasn’t so bad, was it? You were a really courageous ‘bot,” he cooed tenderly at him. “Now, it’s just you and me,” he added, slowing his pace to allow the Seeker a chance to adjust.
Sure enough, Starscream's walls tightened slowly, better gripping the edge of his spike, and Long Haul smiled behind his now closed facemask. “Good little Seeker,” he whispered kindly, leaning back against the berth, one hand absently rubbing Starscream’s abdominal plating.
Bonecrusher looked at him and snorted. “Aren’t you the softsparked ‘bot,” he mumbled, wiping away the transfluid running down his thighs with the same rag Hook had used previously. From the corner of his optics, he watched Mixmaster lean against the table, his optics staring hard at the rivulets of fluids, pouting. Bonecrusher smiled coldly at him and threw him the rag. Mixmaster subspaced it immediately with a giggle.
Long Haul watched this with a hidden frown, but said nothing; why should he be concerned about Mixmaster’s strange hobby of collecting stained items? If Bonecrusher wanted to indulge him, it wasn’t his problem… was it?
Still, it was mildly disturbing… He quickened his pace inside Starscream, trying to focus on more pleasurable thoughts. Sure enough, the writhing Seeker occupied him fully afterward. He panted, air cycling loudly through his vents as he pushed and pushed again, deaf to Starscream’s pained gasps. Nonetheless, it took him a while to overload properly, both arms clutching the Seeker’s waist with enough force to break a lesser mech in two.
Starscream cried out distinctly in pain, distress and mild-pleasure, showing that his sensors were still registering sensations other than his supposed soreness.
The dump trunk pushed him away, getting down from the berth without much hurry; overload had left him feel tingly. Still, he didn’t regret anything. He closed off his panel, paying no heed to the fluids dripping down his thighs; he was supposed to hit the washracks at the end of his shifts, so why bother?
“Your turn, Scavenger, since dear Scrapper still doesn’t seem to be in the mood,” snipped Long Haul as he pushed Strascream’s body flat on the berth, letting his arms and widely open legs dangle over the edge.
The shovel approached carefully after a quick glance at Scrapper for permission; their leader just nodded at him and got back to drawing some modifications.
Looming over the Air Commander’s body, Scavenger took note of the little puddle of fluid between the Seeker’s legs, just below the waist, and the rivulet of liquid still flowing from the abused valve opening. Truthfully, getting his own cord inside didn’t appeal to him, he mused as he watched Starscream shudder, trying to bring his legs together to no avail.
So, what could he do exactly to pleasure himself…?
It was almost an epiphany; the one thing he always hated about Starscream… and about every Decepticons or Autobots for that matter, and even his own gestalt sometimes.
“There’s something I always wanted to do to shut him up,” mumbled Scavenger as he struggled with the attachments holding his panel in place. Whereas Long Haul wanted more fun in the berth, Scavenger himself wanted less. The problem with being one of the least respected and least fearsome Constructicons was the stares he got, especially the ones looking down at his panel and aft. Although nobody had been stupid enough to jump him yet, there had been a few close-calls that left the excavator wary and had induced him to modify his panel cover.
Had the circumstances been different, he would have gone for the valve, or perhaps the exhaust port; but since he was certain Starscream was in no shape to bite him down, well… He preferred the Seeker’s big mouth.
A nasty smirk emerged behind his facemask; people always called him names to his face, and mocked him relentlessly. He was used to the verbal abuse, but he had always dreamed of making them pay… And Starscream, deliciously helpless like he was, was the perfect candidate on which extract his revenge.
His panel clicked open. As he waited for his spike to emerge fully, Scavenger crawled over Sarscream’s body and forced him to open his mouth widely. Then, after a chuckle, he slid his cord inside, making the appendage roll over the unresponsive glossa and down the throat of his victim.
Happy cackles escaped him, and the other frowned at him; if they hadn’t know better, they could have sworn Mixmaster had rubbed off their weakest team member. Otherwise, he stayed silent; there was a lot of things he longed to say, but he didn’t utter them aloud. He wasn’t of those who took their sweet time in dirty talk…
Starscream lifted his optics to look at Scavenger; for once, he could clearly see who was on top of him. More and more sensation began to assault him, notably the pain and ache in his lower region, as well as the fluid dripping freely from his still bare, vulnerable valve. Curse Hook! Curse them all, he thought blurrily before his lucidity wandered once again. Vaguely, he could feel that his lips were widely parted and his glossa running feebly on the Constructicon’s thick member, which was down his throat, and he rumbled a bit, feeling the sensation disagreeable.
Scavenger gasped in pleasure, not having expected the vibration. “He’s getting more and more lively,” he managed to say, grasping the Seeker’s shoulders more tightly. Hook consulted his internal chronometer and nodded. “He should be capable of coherent speech in about half an hour.” Turning to Scrapper and Mixmaster he added: “You should hurry up.”
Scrapper shrugged.”I’m not even sure I really want a go; he’s not my type.” Mixmaster just cackled as he looked at Scavenger thrusting his hips back and forth in the Seeker’s face. Hook raised an optic ridge at his leader.
“Why? I though you liked a good ‘facing as much as anyone?” Scrapper nodded stiffly. “I do. But Starscream doesn’t appeal to me that much. I would have rather liked my Seeker to be black and purple,” he shrugged.
That gained him a few incredulous looks. “Skywarp? You would rather bang Skywarp?” asked Long Haul, incredulous. “Thundercracker, I would have understood, and even the Coneheads have some appeal, but Skywarp?”
Scrapper tilted his head. “Why not? He’s not that bad looking. Sure, his personality leaves much to desire, but he’s far less conspicuous than Starscream. And I’d like to get into his circuits and have a good look at his warping generator,” he added with a quick flash from his optics.
That drew some chuckles. “Ah, of course, seen like that,” said Hook. “But you’re sure you don’t want a go? Just change your spectrum, and you could always pretend it’s your favorite Seeker,” he teased. Scrapper seemed to consider the idea and finally sighed. “Alright, I guess. But just because I will not be supervising you doesn’t mean you can slack off,” he warned them sternly.
Hook raised his hands in mock defense. “Of course, fearless leader; we would never have thought to do that.”
They were cut out by Scavenger squeal of pleasure as he overloaded in the Seeker’s mouth. Starscream moved erratically, trying to shove him away, but Scavenger was firmly installed and Starscream was not yet back at full strength. Scavenger caught his two wrists and pinned them down on the Seeker’s chest with only one hand, the other lifting to the winged mech’s throat and massaging it gently, helping him to reluctantly swallow the fluids he secreted.
That was the best revenge he could ever have taken, he thought happily as he watched a mouthful of fluid drip from the Seeker’s mouth and cascade down his chin; the weak head movement even caused some to spill on his otherwise pristine cheek, which amused the shovel to no end. He let himself slide out of Starscream’s mouth with a hidden, vindictive smile.
Laughter came from the little group of purple and green mechs as they took a good look at Starscream’s face now that Scavenger had finished emptying his load. Oh, how the mlghty had fallen… Starscream heard their chuckles and hissed mentally, utterly humiliated.
“Your turn, Scrapper,” called out Scavenger, feeling himself in high spirits for the first time in vorns. He even hummed happily as Hook directed him toward a storage room to search for some needed material.
"Well, if you insist," Scrapper sighed as he too marched toward the berth where Starscream lay, thighs and legs spattered with variously colored fluid, arms dangling helplessly from the sides, face turned in their general direction, optics pale and shuttering.
Scrapper took no time to play games; he just got down to business, one hand grasping for Starscream’s half-erect cord and starting to pump him. Starscream became more vocal with each move; he still wasn’t looking at anyone or anything in particular, but his whole body was less relaxed than it had been. Scrapper judged he had to hurry if he wanted to finish before the Seeker was completely back in control. Thankfully, it didn’t take more than a breem to fully excite the red colored mech.
Quickly, the engineer straddled the Seeker’s waist, one hand still gently stroking the erect cord. Starscream moaned and turned his head to the side, optics nearly white and fists clenching almost painfully. “All for the valve, and not one to consider your throbbing spike,” he shook his head almost regretfully. “Don’t worry though, I’ll pay extra attention to this part of your anatomy,” he said, opening his panel without hast.
He positioned himself over the Seeker’s cord, catching a particularly lucid, startled and vaguely relaxed stare as he did so, and he smiled behind his facemask. It seemed Starscream wasn’t totally adverse to the idea of ‘facing when he was the one penetrating his partners…
He ‘winked’ at the Seeker, and let himself sink gently on the throbbing member.
Scrapper grunted as his body adjusted to the stretch. He started to move his hips experimentally, moaning a little as the cord inside him brushed against some particularly sensitive sensors. “Well, not as big as I wanted, but it will do,” he muttered, starting to move his body up and down at a sedate pace, taking no heed of Starscream’s pleased gasps. Sure, he wasn’t a partisan of ‘the bigger the better’ in matter of interface array, but he had kind of expected the Seeker to be… well, not so average.
Then again, he mused as his hips rolled back and forth, had he been in control and able to use this part of his anatomy freely, he didn’t doubt for a second Starscream could have sent anyone over the edge in just a few thrusts; Seeker had quite the reputation, after all…
“You like it, don’t you?” he mused as he bent forward to catch the Air Commander’s lips against his helm, nuzzling against him and enjoying the feeling of the soft pliable metal against his rapidly heating frame.
Starscream didn’t try to answer or whimper, he stayed silent and still. Scrapper frowned, but finally shrugged; if the winged mech was enjoying himself for once, he had no reason to protest Scrapper’s ministrations.
A Seeker actually being more of a ‘cord mech’… interesting. And a very pleasant idea, indeed, especially for him. Scrapper had never been one to be on top; he had always preferred to lie down and let his partners do the work, rocking him back and forth with each thrust in his offered body. Such a preference, though, had to be kept secret; most ‘Con were more ‘cord mechs’, - dominants in every aspects, especially in the berth – which Scrapper found fine – it let him with quite the choice of partners who wouldn’t look twice before jumping in berth with him. But to always be the submissive one and enjoying that every single time was seen as a weakness among same 'Cons. Autobots were like that, not true Decepticons.
Scrapper snorted. They were happy, that bunch of grunts obsessed with their own virility, when they found someone willing enough to let them bury themselves to satisfaction.
Still, his preferences would be seen as a… deviance if they were to be known. And so, he was often deprived of his greatest pleasure, being taken.
Hook had offered him quite the occasion to distract himself, he mused as he maintained his pace, deaf to Starscream’s various noises of pleasure. Of course, it wasn’t his dream partner under him, but it was better than nothing, he supposed.
He wondered idly if Skywarp was the same – to which case he would be more than happy to be ridden and pounded in –, or if he was more of a valve mech – in which case Scrapper would reluctantly push asides his owns preferences and frag the dark Seeker senseless.
His pace quickened as he fantasized about the black and purple winged mech, imagining him wild and strong and big and ruthless in berth…
Overload washed over him without surprise; he had felt the charge building for quite a while; as he threw his head back and roared, he could feel his valve tightening around the shaft inside him, squeezing…
Starscream pushed an inarticulate scream and arched his back against the table as he too finally overloaded, and Scrapper grunted as he felt the cold transfluid splashing inside him and cooling his overheated systems.
“Good boy,” he murmured, watching the Seeker trash around, crying out in total rapture. Scrapper watched him through a modified spectrum, and bright red and silver-white had been changed into darker, more pleasant colors.
As he disengaged himself from the Seeker’s body; Starscream emitted a pathetic moan, and one of his hand rose about an inch toward him before falling back, limp once again. Scrapper paid him no mind, as he was busy cleaning the excess fluid from his own body. Then he turned toward his appraising gestalt mates.
“He’s yours,” he said simply to the last of the Constructicons, closing his panel and leaving the downed Seeker without further thought. Sure, it had been nice, but Starscream wasn’t anything exceptional…
The chemist was laughing himself silly as he almost pounced on his awaiting prey. It was going to be so much fun! But unlike his teammates, he didn’t plan to use his valve or cord to amuse himself; he had thought about it, mind you, but it wasn’t really his style… Not when he could get a better deal out of the whole ordeal.
And Hook had offered him one he just hadn't been able to resist
Mixmaster just pushed a single finger inside Starscream’s valve, and brought it back with a glutton smile. Slowly he started to lick the finger clean, optics shuttered in delight, smiling like a gourmet.”Humm… Wonderful mix-mix,” he said happily.
Then he lifted the Seeker’s waist and aligned his face with the quivering valve, before pushing his glossa into the abused opening. Starscream gasped and jerked, but Mixmaster held him well. Happily humming, he started to lap the mix of fluid inside and at the edge of the port, making Starscream writhes in reluctant pleasure.
The other Constructicons glanced at a very satisfied Hook and shared a knowing smile; of course the opportunity of tasting a brew of their combined fluids and Starscream’s lubricant had proved to be a major winning argument to pacify the cement mixer. Their old buddy had always preferred testing new mixes and playing with his glossa than burying the little appendage deep inside a partner’s writhing body.
The cement mixer temporarily left the quivering valve to focus his attentions on Starscream’s depressurized cord, which was still covered in drops of fluid from his previous overload; he lapped the limp appendage with a surprising tenderness, letting his glossa roll all over the surface and rub against the tip, never minding Starscream’s half-hearted (in his opinion) thrashing.
He whined a little once he finished and no more fluid could be collected here; it had been fun, much more than licking a rust stick. Ah, well… There was still others places to explore, he mused as he glanced hungrily at the Seeker’s valve.
But first, there was another area which required his attentions. The mixer crawled upon Starscream’s body, reaching for his face.
Gently, Mixmaster lapped the Seeker’s face, drying away the rivulet of transfluid marring the dark face, glossa sliding on each cheeks, on the chin, under the optics, then beginning to paly with the slightly swollen lips before sliding easily between them. Just as he guessed, the Seeker’s mouth was still full of Scavenger’s transfluid, having been unable to swallow everything.
Mixmaster carefully slide a finger into the wet cavity alongside his glossa, and rubbed at a particuliar spot to gather some of the fluid. As soon as he deemed he had enough, the digit slid out. Slowly, the mixer brought it down and down, before pushing the thick appendage into Starscream’s port and began twisting.
Starscream cried out in surprise, at an almost normal level; he was feeling everything done to him, now, and he was getting sick of lying helpless for anyone to take against his will. As soon as he could move, he was going to send them a dozen null rays’ shots in the face… each.
Mixmaster was still rubbing his digit inside the port, mixing the different fluids inside and savoring Starscream’s more and more audible gasps; his valve was still over sensitive from the previous rough treatment, which only added to Mixmaster’s amusement.
When he judged his concoction was finished, he pulled his finger out and brought it to his own mouth.
“Hummm…. Even better-better,” he giggled happily. Starscream glared at him weakly.
He tried to push Mixmaster away, and to his surprise, his arms responded to his orders. But Mixmaster caught them both and pinned them down effortlessly. “Oh, awake-awake, are you?” he asked, tilting his head.
Starscream twisted and snarled, trying to free himself. But though he could move, he was still lacking in strength, and his struggles proved to be fruitless. Shaking his head in disappointment, Mixmaster managed to pin both arms above the Seeker’s head with only one hand, and used the other to lift his waist a little, before lowering his face.
“Now-now, that was rude-rude; you interrupted my meal-meal,” he chided the Seeker. Starscream gifted him with a particularly disgusted stare, which made Mixmaster giggles even more. “Don’t be-be like that, it-it will soon be over-over.”
And he pushed his glossa inside once again, ignoring the hiss and low whispered threat from the Air Commander, who tried to kick him away, to no avail, the kick only bouncing on the mixer’s armor. The other Constructicons had paused in their work and were now watching the display in amusement.
“Like I said, feisty”, commented Long Haul to which his teammates nodded very seriously. “Look at him kicking,” smiled Bonecrusher, “Doesn’t he look like the perfect pleasurebot?” Nods were exchanged as they watched the Seeker freeze suddenly and shake and cry while another overload took hold of him.
Mixmaster didn’t seem to care; he continued to lick all the fluid s away, savoring each one again and again. He finally consented, however, to leave the inside of the valve to concentrate on the edge and on the previously pristine thighs. His engines revved happily; they had truly granted him the best piece…
Finally, once the Seeker was clean and no lubricant or transfluid remained to be licked away, Miwmaster pulled back, glancing at the Seeker’s irate face while doing so. He just smiled and waved at him, as if nothing absolutely nonconsensual on the Seeker’s part had happened between them.
Starscream’s optics flashed dangerously, dark red interlaced with short flashes of white fury watching over each ones of his tormentors. “I… Will… Kill… You,” he said slowly, with the same venom he had usually reserved for Megatron only.
His fists were clenched, to the point where he could feel his fingers’ joints about to snap. He was profoundly humiliated! He had been nothing more than a fuck toy, not even a whore, for the gestalt, and he was going to make them pay for their liberties. A small, sarcastic part of his mind noted it was an empty threat; they still needed Devastator to win the war, and they still needed the skills o the Constructicons, period. Another, more fearful part shuddered with fright, thinking it could happen again anytime he wasn’t careful enough or anytime he ended up in the Medbay alone after combat.
That thought alone made him stiffen, but he did not stop glaring at the six green and purple mechs.
The Constructicons laughed good naturedly, not taking him seriously; they had already realized there was not much the Seeker could do about them. Hook shook his head and patted the SIC’s shoulder with affection. “You’re welcome to try, little tramp, but don’t believe it’ll be easy.”
Starscream snarled. “You… fraggers!” He was going to dismantle them in the most painful way possible someday!
“Respect us, Starscream, and perhaps it will not happen again,” said simply Hook, preparing an energon transfusion; Starscream’s system had to be low, after all the overloads he had, and Hook was feeling merciful after the hours of fun he had. Also, he took a small hammer out of subspace; the winged mech was quite dented around the hips and waist…
The red Seeker looked at them crossly one last time, then shut down in recharge without another word, utterly exhausted and unable to remain online anymore for a battle of wits where he clearly wouldn’t have the advantage. Hook patted in gently on the helm. “Sleep well, dearest. And pray I’d never punish you for your insolence yet again,” he whispered quietly into the SIC’s audial.