#chosen of the tyrant saying he’d like to be made subservient

[kaldurrr]

still thinking about gortash saying he would like to be at durge’s feet humiliating himself for durge’s pleasure. like hello????

[the-odd-job]

Harem AU Chapter 16 - Break Away from the Dark

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Category: Other Fandom: Transformers Relationships: Megatron/Sideswipe, Sideswipe/Skywarp, Sideswipe/Runamuck/Runabout Characters: Megatron, Soundwave, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Skywarp, Runamuck, Runabout, Undisclosed Characters Additional Tags: Sticky, Dubcon, Double Penetration, Oral/Deepthroating, Slight Mindfuck Words: 12756

But I know some day I'll make it out of here Even if it takes all night or a hundred years Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near Wanna feel alive, outside I can't fight my fear

Isn't it lovely, all alone? Heart made of glass, my mind of stone Tear me to pieces, skin and bone Hello, welcome home

— Lauren Babic & Jordan Radvansky – Lovely

( Previous )

If nothing else… No one else had seen him, this time. 

That didn’t make it that much easier to bear. Certainly the humiliation would’ve been just that much deeper if the other mates were there to witness it, but the other mates… What had they already seen during their time here? They were a completely shameless bunch, that was for sure. They did willingly what he was coerced to do. 

They wouldn’t have thought twice about seeing him in that position.

No, the worst part was that Megatron saw, but considering he was the one orchestrating the whole thing, that was inescapable. Megatron would see and Megatron would know how far he’d come to push them, pressing them into doing things that in the past… They would never have agreed to. 

But they’d lost their fight somewhere along the way, forced to subdue themselves after too much of everything.

Just too much.

This only added to the long list of things that were too much.

The library was quiet, as usual, and it was there that Sunstreaker had sequestered himself. He’d had a shower yesterday after Megatron had dismissed him, and then, because of the late hour, he’d gone to recharge.

There hadn’t really been the time to think and feel, just rid himself of the most immediate physical things.

It wasn’t that far into the morning, now. He hadn’t slept nearly as late as he usually did, the everything of it haunting him.

Megatron was going so far. Not even in the physical sense anymore. There wasn’t much to interfacing he hadn’t already done. He wasn’t given reason to do overt physical damage, so he didn’t.

But the subservience he was beginning to demand. Oh, it had always been there, he’d always asked for it, but now that was ramping up. Badly. It wasn’t enough that it was interfacing related anymore, that it was just obedience.

No, he wanted them on the floors, crawling at his pedes, worshipping him, showing how highly they regarded him and how little they thought of themselves. Wasn’t that it? Did he want to strip them of all of their self-worth, trample what little of their dignity they had left into the dirt so badly there would be no reclaiming it, now or ever? Grind them down to dust until they weren’t even themselves anymore, but instead just like the other mates—brainwashed and empty, ones who lived only to obey and serve.

And what did he want on top of it all? That they were grateful for it? Grateful for the destruction of their self, because they had gotten pulled from the gutters by whatever decree had Kaonites kidnapping citizens of Free Cybertron—pulled from the gutters to be brought into this hell instead, and then told this was an improvement.  

Did he really think they would ever agree with that assessment or believe in that version of reality? 

These were the thoughts and feelings he hadn’t had the time for yesterday, but now Sunstreaker dedicated his processors and spark to categorizing them, sitting on the familiar couch at the back of the library with his helm securely in his servos. Catalog everything. Every memory of being on the floor in front of the tyrant, the disgust in him as he did what Megatron wanted of him. And why? To keep Sideswipe safe?

That made it worth it, but it didn’t change the fact he’d wanted to throw up just from the act itself, that his revulsion and hatred had reached all new heights as he’d… Primus. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want those memories.

He didn’t want it to be him who had done those things, subjected himself to that disgrace under Megatron’s approving optics—and his field. It had been muted, but there was no doubt there had been a sense of self-satisfaction in it. As if Megatron was happy and proud that he could force Sunstreaker into such a position.

Which he probably was, all things considered.

It was sick.

He worried it would take him the rest of his damn life to try to get over the things he was made to do here. The interfacing and the injuries he could handle. Not that those wouldn’t affect him, not that he wouldn’t have nightmares of them, not that they wouldn’t remain unpleasant memories–

But their emotion didn’t compare to what he felt when laving his glossa along Megatron’s damned pedes, when rubbing his face against them, kissing them when he’d been told to do so—and just because every time he hesitated, he had gotten threatened with something happening to Sideswipe.

Better him than Sideswipe, even if he knew that protecting his twin here was nothing but an illusion. Megatron would hurt Sideswipe too, in some way, even if not in the moment.

But if he could prevent even a little of the kind of pits Megatron put them through… 

He didn’t want to be this. Sunstreaker knew he was a proud being. Or… Had been. He’d known that much, and he’d been proud of being proud, which was… Was that a little over the top? Too much pride for one person? He hadn’t cared.

That probably made Megatron all the more eager to humiliate him. Wouldn’t it be something of an accomplishment to break the pride Sunstreaker had? Had had?

How much of it was left?

Some might’ve called the whole thing a vice he had, that he was arrogant, self-centered. And he was. He hadn’t cared about much beyond himself and Sideswipe. Didn’t care about much, that hadn’t changed. 

But vice or not, he didn’t think he deserved this. He didn’t think he deserved to be torn down like was being done to him, and to Sideswipe. He’d had some enemies, maybe they would have cheered if they’d seen him now… But not many. Mostly he’d kept to himself. That didn’t earn you many foes, usually. He liked to think that most of the mecha he’d known, even just tangentially, would be horrified if they knew.

That even those not in the gutters would have been horrified, even if it was just a guttermech going through this. Surely he had at least that much value as a person, regardless of his financial status and luck in life?

Rotten, rotten luck. And Megatron dared claim that he had value here where he hadn’t had it in his old life. As if it wasn’t enough that he valued himself, something he wasn’t allowed to do here, because here his value was directly tied to what Megatron thought of him, no? It was Megatron who determined what he was worth, and if he knew anything by now, it was that his worth was directly tied to how well he could please his master—how well he could provide him with what he wanted. 

How was he ever supposed to believe this was better than what he’d had before, or somehow preferable to the streets?

Pits. He could never. How could he ever?

But how much longer would he need to be here for, fighting the same battles, repeating the same things inside and out, being fed the same bullshit day in, day out? Stuck in the same cycle, until… What? He went crazy or gave up, or went crazy and gave up? How closely together were those two tied? 

Steps approached, but Sunstreaker didn���t look up. It was just Sideswipe.

Didn’t look up before a cube containing brightly glowing energon was poked into his field of view and… Wiggled.

Sunstreaker snorted something like a laugh and lifted his helm to give a wry look at his brother. Sideswipe… It wasn’t all the way a grin that he managed, but it was something. Sideswipe kept trying. And failing, but he didn’t stop trying.  

And what had he learned yesterday? There was more for them to do than wallow in their misery, even if that was to try to remember this wasn’t what there was supposed to be, to… Remind themselves, through their hatred of their situation, that they didn’t need to accept it. Any of it.

Sunstreaker took the energon offered to him and Sideswipe sat down on the couch next to him, nursing his own cube. They didn’t say anything as they hardlined—connected in frame as they always were connected in spark—before they both went to drink their fuel. This they couldn’t say out loud.

Because Sideswipe was wiser than before. Their thoughts tangled, memories were exchanged, their spark dove into itself until there was even less of a two than there usually was... 

One of their frames had information they hadn’t had before, something no one had brought up because… Did they take it for granted? Thought it wasn’t worth saying that, oh, some of the mates got to leave the palace sometimes? 

Or was that information deliberately kept from them to strip them of their hope of escape, when the palace itself seemed nigh impenetrable, at least from the inside? If that was the case, why had Skywarp blurted it so willingly after just one offhand question from Sideswipe?

Well, whatever, the reasons didn’t really matter. As long as it was true, that was what mattered, and Skywarp hadn’t lied about anything before now. There wasn’t much reason to think he’d started now and it wasn’t true that the mates, the chosen ones, got to leave the palace for some fun every now and then. Racing, clubbing, movies, spa… Pits, it sounded almost normal, the kind of things they could imagine upper class mecha just did, but that they really, really had thought would be entirely denied from them. They’d been here… Quite some time already, and not once had any of the mates left for more than entertaining Megatron—his wing, the dinners, whatever else there might be that they didn’t yet know about but that they sometimes got called for. 

It had to be rare. That, and most likely those that actually got to go were few. The harem was large—or maybe it wasn’t, what did they know about what size harems usually were—about fifty sparks strong. There was no way all of them would get to go at once, that was just… Unmanageable numbers without a numerous guard to accompany them.

So, they were rare, and likely to qualify for Megatron to even consider letting you go on such outings… You needed to be special. That made sense, didn’t it? Wouldn’t anyone consider it a bit of a reward, a treat, even those that seemed content to live in the harem despite all of its restrictions? Even Skywarp had called it fun, and he if anyone never gave any indication that he wasn’t happy here. They’d never gleaned how genuine that truly was, but at least on the surface it seemed very genuine.

If even Skywarp appreciated it, probably the others did too. Megatron could be expected to know as much, and it would follow that he would show his appreciation of you by letting you leave the palace, however temporarily. 

Getting out of the palace had been their biggest hurdle as far as getting the slag out of here went. It wasn’t just about the harem wing, it was about the whole fragging place, that they didn’t even know the layout of, that was very closely guarded from everything they had seen. How were they ever going to navigate through the whole thing without being noticed, and somehow get through any door that actually led outside without getting caught in the act?

‘Difficult’ was an understatement as far as describing the feat went.

But here was another option. Get the permission to go out. That would be the greatest obstacle in the way of their escape taken care of, just like that. Oh, there was no way it was going to be easy even from there on. There would be guards, they were branded in a way that no doubt alerted others to their status and that couldn’t work out too well for them, and they didn’t know the map of the city at all. Once out, they’d still have no idea where to go, but… They’d be out. There would be a whole city for them to disappear in. And their brands? All they’d need to do was remove select pieces of their armor, including those that contained the markings—though without making it look like they’d deliberately removed something, which was going to be a bit more difficult. Ruin their paint jobs a bit because he expected they would stand out so badly with their current looks, change their optical color to red to blend in a bit better… Would that do it?

It was still going to be difficult. There were far too many things to take into account and control, risks to minimize, backup plans to have… But it would be a chance. It would be a real chance, not just a pipe dream. It was something they could have a proper shot at, that they could actually succeed in.

They could still fail, that was always a possibility, but pits, the odds wouldn’t be completely against them. 

That was the theory, at least. First it would be prudent to get out even once without immediately trying to run away from their chaperons and cohort, just to get a feel of what they were getting into and a more solid idea of how things worked. Once they had that… Then they could make a run for it.

And on the other side of that? No more of this. No more Megatron, no more harem. Oh, they’d be exchanging one set of problems for another—the matter remained that Kaon was going to be a terribly difficult city to live in without that much touted citizenship—but what they would go into was the lesser evil. Who knew what the frag they’d need to do to survive, maybe they’d need to sell their frames, whatever, it wouldn’t matter.

They’d be free, and it would be better than here. They would have the chance to aim for whatever they wanted. Escape from the city itself? Maybe. 

But even if they never got that far, just living within the city as honest to Primus free mecha would be… Pits. He wasn’t sure he’d ever before looked forward to anything as much.

They’d been here as captives for too long already.

What would they need to do to actually get the rights to leave the palace, though?

They dispersed their cubes as one after fueling their respective frames. Sideswipe went to entwine their digits; Sunstreake squeezed his servo back. When he glanced at his brother, Sideswipe was already looking at him, determination in his optics.

More than a little fear too, though. That would probably be the most emotionally trying part of this all, what they’d need to do to get picked for the outings. Megatron was the keyholder and it was his good graces they’d need to get to to have a shot at this whole thing. No one and nothing else.

Could they be blamed for not finding that thought very appealing? It was their only choice, but slag, doing whatever to please the dictator? After everything he’d done to them? Despite everything he was? 

It left an incredibly bad taste in his mouth. If he was already forced to lick pedes… Next step would likely be to do so voluntarily. They couldn’t be too obvious about this, couldn’t appear that their change of heart was altogether sudden, but weren’t they already quite far down the road of acquiescing? Sideswipe in particular? No, Sideswipe probably wouldn’t need to do too much to make his concession seem genuine, as if Megatron had truly won over him and got to reap the benefits of his hard work in Sideswipe’s submission.

But Sunstreaker… He still argued. Even if he ultimately gave because he was never given another option and no way out, he still fought in whatever capacity he was allowed to. He couldn’t abruptly stop with that without inviting suspicion, could he? He’d still need to… Let Megatron beat him down, if not physically, then emotionally—act as if that was affecting him, that he didn’t have new hope to pull strength from, that he was caving.  

After everything Megatron had already done and without any of them knowing his true strength, they’d likely even believe it. Megatron hadn’t won and he never would win, but he could make it look as if he had. Do what it took to prove as much.

Give in in all ways. Do every humiliating thing Megatron demanded of them to test their subservience, show their submission—pretend, pretend, pretend.  

Sideswipe gripped his servo tighter. Sunstreaker knew their apprehension. They needed to do this, but it wouldn’t be pleasant. He was sure it would be fragging horrible, that Megatron would push them to their absolute limits to make sure their state of spark and mind was truly what they made it out to be. 

And they’d need to withstand it, even as they made it look like they failed to do just that. 

This wouldn’t be easy. None of this would be easy, but it would be worth it. There was a reward waiting for them, their freedom, their life, theirs to take–

If they just did this first. 

They could do this.

Sideswipe nodded lightly and Sunstreaker gave him a small smile in return. They’d have each other through this like they’d had each other through everything. If they threatened to forget why they were doing this, they could remind themselves with their other half. If things started to feel like too much and like it might be best to give up for real… They could remind themselves.

That was their added strength. There was only one of them, but to be in two was a dimension the whole sparked did not have. They could let their desire to keep both halves of them safe keep them going—as long as they remembered what true safety was, and that they’d never find it here.

Safety would be out of Megatron’s grasp. 

But first… Gain his approval. Gain his trust. Would it be enough if they just showed their spirit, broken, bent to him? No, he doubted that. They’d need to go a step further and gain his favor to the point that he’d see it fit to reward them. 

Everything on the path to that goal… They could do. They’d keep in mind what they were doing it all for, and they could do it. Whatever it took—no matter the pain and humiliation Megatron would put them through, although… Would it get easier once the tyrant began to believe they were done for? Would he stop playing with them so much after he was convinced their submission was no act? Stopped with his games, when there seemingly was no further need for them?

They could hope. Maybe things would be easier to bear if they earned Megatron’s normal treatment, whatever that was. It couldn’t be what they’d gone through so far. Surely the other mates wouldn’t be as content if they continuously went through the same? 

What did he know, though, maybe Megatron’s treatment never got better and things would remain as hellish as they ever did. But… They could hope.

How long would this take?

It didn’t matter. They’d get out of here, they’d make it back out there, and it didn’t matter how long of a game they’d need to play. It would be their game from now on, not Megatron’s.

Megatron would become the pawn.

All they’d need to do was not alert him to that fact.

--------------------------------------

That plan was all well and good, but putting it into practice turned out to be a bit more difficult. They were at the mercy of Megatron’s whims, and as it was, Megatron didn’t really… Well, Sideswipe wasn’t going to go so far as to say the mech disliked them or they probably wouldn’t still be here, but Megatron definitely favored a lot of other members of his harem more. Their novelty had sort of worn off by now, and while Megatron had continued to test them every now and then, it wasn’t at a predictable or frequent pace.

And it just so happened that Megatron didn’t call for them for a few weeks, nor were there any orgies. The tyrant didn’t seem to be busy, though, because other members of the harem still got summons as usual.

He just didn’t fancy the twins, apparently.

So they couldn’t really get started on the whole thing, even though they were anxious to do so because the sooner they made progress on that front, the sooner they’d be out of here.

It was a weird feeling to suddenly almost hope Megatron gave them attention, even as they continued to dread that very same thing. 

Sideswipe still tried to take the downtime as the downtime it was. Sooner or later Megatron would lay his optics on them again, and things would probably suck a lot at that point, even if they now saw it as a necessity and a step on their road to freedom. Through everything Megatron would still doubtlessly do to them, they’d just need to keep that in mind. There was a purpose to all of this, now, coming from themselves. They weren’t just Megatron’s toys anymore. They had newfound agency of their own. 

It was a good thought and a nice feeling, but they couldn’t let it show. That turned out to be easier than they might’ve initially expected, honestly. Sunstreaker had no trouble being as grouchy as ever and it really wasn’t even that much of an act, and Sideswipe… For as long as Megatron wasn’t singling them out, things were alright anyway. He could pretend they were. No one thought it odd if he was sort of alive for as long as he wasn’t getting any attention from the tyrant. 

And then there were the continued propositions, but at least he managed to escape any actual ‘facing in further practice.

Even if that sometimes meant literally escaping from someone’s hold or from the room or whatever else. The mates were just really, really bad at taking no for an answer. That was old news by now, though, and he could prepare for it and make sure he always had those escape routes planned, and excuses they might actually listen to on the tip of his glossa. 

No one dared approach Sunstreaker like that, still. 

Pastimes aplenty, it was, and Sideswipe was down for almost everything except the fragging. Games, tv, movies, actual books sometimes, more games… Dancing, tentatively. He did like dancing, and now that that bottle had already gotten uncorked before the dinner, it was nice to indulge in it a little bit, at the back of the entertainment room. They even got some miniature dance parties going on, and he just needed to ignore how obviously sexualized everyone else was dancing.

He just wanted to dance for the sake of dancing, not to arouse anyone. Was that too much to ask?

Knock Out continued to invite Sunstreaker to painting sessions whenever someone needed to have their paint jobs touched up on a grander scale. Sunstreaker enjoyed those, enjoyed learning, and maybe in another life they could’ve set up a bodyshop of their own and offered the services Sunstreaker was learning and having fun with. Sideswipe wasn’t going to entirely rule that out either. He wasn’t ready to. Who knew what they’d be able to do once they got Kaonite citizenships? They had no fragging clue how they were going to manage that, but with time, they would, he had no doubt about it.

And then… There would be a lot more they could do. They’d always need to be careful. He severely doubted Megatron was the type to just let his “property” go so easily, and for as long as they were in Kaon, they were too damn close to him. They’d need to watch themselves every step of the way.

But they could do it, and pits, they were going to enjoy their freedom.

It was ridiculous they needed to worry about regaining it in the first place. They were citizens of Free Cybertron, for Primus’ sake. Then, suddenly, there just was nothing free about them anymore.

But even if they wouldn’t get it out of the city just yet, back to the truly free portion of Cybertron, just being in the wild of the city would be so much more than they’d had in a long time.

“Sideswipe!” Twin Twist called from the door of the entertainment. When Sideswipe glanced up from the game board he’d been frowning at—he was still to actually win in this one, but he was getting better!—he could see the twin with… His twin all over him. You know, groping him. Very, very openly. And insistently.

Sideswipe raised an unimpressed optical ridge at the both of them and earned himself two unrepentant grins before Topspin continued where his brother left off. “Megatron called you in tonight! Eighteenth.”

And with that he managed to pull Twin Twist from the doorway, probably for them to go have a tumble in the berthroom.

Sideswipe’s snort of amusement was soon followed by anxiety—and anticipation.

This was it. Megatron was finally picking one of them out again, and they’d have the chance to get started good and proper. Sideswipe glanced to the other side of the room where Sunstreaker was already looking at him. His twin gave a small nod of encouragement and Sideswipe nodded back. He could do this.

But first, he had a game to finish. And win, maybe. Hopefully.

He’d give it his best shot.

---------------------------------

As it turned out, it wasn’t enough. But he was second! Not the first, honestly not even close, but with a bit of skill and a generous sprinkling of luck, he made it to second. So. He was going to feel good about that. 

Skywarp had come to watch the end of the game, seated behind him, and as soon as the last player finished, Sideswipe could feel the Seeker’s arm around him, pulling him back against the flier. “Heard Megatron wants you in tonight. Wanna prep?” Skywarp asked, peering down at him. Sideswipe made a face at him, but… This would play into their plans too. Megatron liked it when they were ready, and right now, they’d need to do what Megatron liked.

So despite the fact he wasn’t exactly looking forward to any of this, Sideswipe nevertheless nodded. Skywarp grinned at him at once, and before anyone could do anything, leaned down to kiss him.

Sideswipe could feel Sunstreaker’s growl from across the room, but this wasn’t… Harmful. He still didn’t want to be kissing the Seeker, exactly, but he’d agreed to the preparations, so… Sunstreaker stilled himself, because of that, and also because Starscream was watching him with a pretty wicked look.

And they weren’t going to get anywhere by displeasing Starscream, any more than they were going to do so by displeasing Megatron. They were pretty sure all Starscream would need to do was whisper a careful word into Megatron’s audial, and if Megatron’s opinion of them already wasn’t the highest, they would end up nowhere good from that. 

Besides, there was no proper infighting among the other mates. They would only stand out in a bad way if they started with it. 

Skywarp’s glossa pried its way into his mouth and Sideswipe reluctantly allowed that just as he reluctantly allowed everything else as the Seeker’s servo slipped down his front, right to his panels. Sideswipe spread his legs for Skywarp, an invitation he probably wouldn’t have needed, but that he took anyway, immediately getting to fondling his valve cover. And don’t get him wrong, it didn’t feel bad, but Sideswipe’s shudder still wasn’t one of pleasure.

He just didn’t want to be here, in this position, having this happen, no matter how many times before the exact same had already gone down.

But it was for his own good, both on the short run as well as the long one, now. 

He could do this.

As long as he didn’t focus too hard on it. Empty his head and let his frame do its thing. Skywarp was as insistent as always and continued to show his long practice at tasks like these, and Sideswipe’s frame was heating up in no time. He could feel wetness build up behind his panel and he didn’t want it, he so, so didn’t want it–

But he ignored that the best he could and let his cover retract. He’d agreed to this.

It was for the best.

Skywarp’s digits plunged into his valve the moment it was bared, and Sideswipe’s arching back wasn’t for show when the Seeker hooked his digits right against sensors that very much liked it. Sideswipe couldn’t help a quiet moan into their kiss and Skywarp’s engine purred in response. At least one of them was having fun with this.

They weren’t the only ones getting started, either. The game had lasted for a while—enough of a while that the other mates had gotten a little revved up on their own.

Now they were very intent on dispelling some of that energy, which was about the point where Sideswipe would’ve made his exit. This time though? This time he was actually participating, apparently, if only with Skywarp. The others could handle themselves.

Skywarp was… Thoughtful, in his own way, like he usually was. He worked with his digits until Sideswipe was well and truly soaked and rocking onto the claws penetrating him with small, restless motions. His vents were stuttering just a little, the arousal in his systems undeniable.

And still, he was the last one. The others had long since stuck a spike in someone else’s valve, while Skywarp patiently made sure Sideswipe was ready to go.

He wasn’t, but his frame was, and that was what the Seeker listened to. Sideswipe couldn’t blame him when his vocalizer straight up whined when Skywarp extracted his digits and broke their kiss, as if he was just that desperate for it. Skywarp chuckled at his back before two servos, one covered in lubricant, wrapped around his waist and lifted his whole frame up. Sideswipe managed to get his legs in a somewhat better position to bracket Skywarp’s lap, seconds before he was carefully lowered onto the Seeker’s spike.

Pits, he hated it. And he loved it. Their size difference was enough that he could really feel it, but not in a bad way at all. His calipers were pushed aside just so, his mesh stretched just a little bit, just enough that it felt like something without ever being too much. He doubted smaller spikes would've even satisfied him anymore, not after how far outside of his intended specifications Megatron had pushed and broken his frame.

Don't think about it. His vents hitched for entirely different reasons at that stray thought, but Sideswipe swept it from his mind as quickly as he could and distracted himself with what his frame was going through. Skywarp had lowered him until their groins were again flush against each other, then gave him some time. Sideswipe didn't think he would've really needed it, but it was a nice gesture regardless. His vents were coming just that much faster at the way Skywarp’s spike snuggled against the sensors at the very top of his valve, pressing, but not painfully. He couldn’t keep his frame from doing a restless little grind down on the spike keeping him open, just to feel those sensors stimulated a bit further.

Skywarp took that as a sign he was ready, but Sideswipe figured it would be kind of rude to leave the Seeker to do all the work, so when Skywarp’s hold on his waist tightened to lift him partway up, Sideswipe helped along by raising him on his legs. The burst of pleasure in Skywarp’s field seemed to come both from the fact he was using his spike, as well as Sideswipe’s… Reciprocation. 

For how little anyone here gave a frag about consent, they still seemed oddly happy when you even sort of gave it, or showed you had given it, or… Whatever. Something. Slag if he knew.

Sideswipe didn’t end up doing all of the work himself either, though. It was… Mutual. He lifted himself on his legs, but Skywarp guided and aided him and set the pace. He would hitch his hips up against Sideswipe’s aft and valve every now and then, pushing as deep as he would go, and frag it all but it felt… Good.

He could almost make himself believe he liked it. His frame sure did. He’d stifled his vocalizer because he couldn’t bear that much, to make sounds during this—as if it wasn’t already obvious to the whole world that what he felt was pleasure—but his engine revved out of his control and his vents came in uneven bursts, reactive to every motion of his frame. Up, then down, then back up, his sensors responding to every stroke of Skywarp’s spike along them. 

The Seeker’s ventilations had turned more ragged, too, his field simmering with his own arousal. Yet, as usual, Skywarp didn’t allow that to affect him overmuch, his servos remaining steady where Sideswipe soon felt anything but steady as the pleasure built in his systems until he could scarcely focus on anything else. His optics had closed themselves, his face contorting into expressions that spoke too much of his enjoyment, and field only helping to broadcast it to the whole wide world.

Was it any wonder the other mates struggled to take a no from him, when it was so obvious his frame had a good time every time he somehow managed to get caught up in these activities? His mind… Not so much, but they didn’t see that. Only Sunstreaker saw that.

But he tried not to battle himself now, and just… Let it happen. Let the pleasure roll over him in waves that he knew would drown him—don’t let his thoughts distract him from it. 

This was for his own good. It was alright. There was no reason to fight it. 

Until he was pulled under entirely. Sideswipe’s stubborn silence broke into a gasp when his frame locked up without giving him overt warning, slamming itself down onto Skywarp’s spike and then that final push against the sensors at the roof of his valve fully shoving him over the edge. He overloaded with a groan, arching up against Skywarp, valve clenching around the spike in him until Skywarp was coming himself. The Seeker’s hold on him tightened just a little as transfluid shot into his valve, and his valve, the damned thing, all but milking it from the spike he wasn’t sure he even wanted in there. 

For his own good. 

They were both venting heavily in the aftermath and Sideswipe knew he was leaning on Skywarp too heavily, but the flier didn’t complain. Instead his arms just… Wrapped around Sideswipe’s middle and held him close, there, still sitting on his spike, in his lap.

He’d cared so much about that just seconds before, but Sideswipe wasn’t sure he did anymore. Should he? But good overloads had a habit of sweeping thoughts and their kin from your head, and he felt like that had happened a little bit. His frame felt loose, just a little leftover charge was still tingling in his systems, unable to entirely leave him while his array was still in use, stretched—his sensors still held tight against a spike. None of it was… Unpleasant, physically. 

Mentally and emotionally?

Pit, he didn’t know anymore.

“Round two?” Skywarp asked right next to his audial, jerking Sideswipe from his slowly returning thoughts. He could hear a grin in his voice, but Sideswipe himself had to fight to keep quiet when Skywarp circled his hips in a way that was so reminiscent of how Megatron did it–

But that reminder wasn’t enough to keep his frame from gaining renewed interest in their activities.

Before he could say yay or nay—and he absolutely wasn’t certain what he would’ve said—Runamuck had spoken up in his stead. “I’ve got an idea for you, Sides.” He was grinning too, and Sideswipe found enough strength to look at him. Very suspiciously.

Skywarp, though, seemed to catch on, and carefully lifted him off his spike. Sideswipe hissed when his valve was abandoned like that, a heavy mix of transfluid and lubricant trailing out of him and soiling Skywarp’s spike and crotch. Of course Skywarp showed no indication that he minded, and he probably really didn’t, just set Sideswipe down in front of him before scooting away. Sideswipe glanced after him just in time to see Skywarp get grabbed by Hot Shot, and…

Well, Skywarp was definitely going to have a round two.

What about Sideswipe?

His attention snapped back to Runamuck—and Runabout, he was right behind his brother—when the white mech came right up to him, and… Snatched him, really. Sideswipe flailed, but before he could gain enough coordination to do anything useful, Runamuck had leaned back and pulled Sideswipe on top of him.

Then pushed him back, right onto his erect spike. Sideswipe’s valve reported an intrusion, but Runamuck was about in the same size class as he was. Stockier, but no taller than him. As he’d suspected, there wasn’t… A hell of a lot going on, down under. He could feel it, but it didn’t stretch him, not really.

It didn’t reach his sensors, not really. 

That was… Disturbing. He didn’t want it to be disappointing too, but it kind of was.

And about then Runabout positioned himself behind him, and Sideswipe suddenly had a very good idea of what the other set of twins was planning to do. For sure he’d seen them do it before on the other mates.

“Wait, wait wait wai–!” Sideswipe was cut off when he felt another spike nudge against the entrance of his valve, encounter some resistance, and then ignoring all that to–

Push in alongside Runamuck’s spike already in him.

Sideswipe’s frame snapped taut into a painful arch and his ventilations seized entirely as Runabout forced his spike in with his brother’s, and just like that, Sideswipe was impaled by two spikes. 

A delirious thought of how this was one way to get around their misshapen valves had just the time to be born before it died right off when the two started to move. There was a rhythm to it, no doubt coming both from their bond and the fact they had definitely done this before, and probably many times too, they’d had practice–

But Sideswipe struggled to focus on much of anything. He couldn’t complain about not feeling it properly, anymore. Primus, he felt it. His calipers were pushed, far and wide, because together the twins’ spikes were… Was their combined girth as great as Megatron’s? Or greater? Not as great? He couldn’t– Fraggit, he couldn’t tell, but it didn’t really matter either because no matter the exact stretch of his valve right then, it was nevertheless a lot. Enough. But not too much.

How could it not be too much?

And he’d been right in this position before, when Motormaster had fragged his face and those other two… What was that one’s name? Why did he try to remember?

Wildrider.

Names were inconsequential, but he remembered them, the two grounders that had taken a turn with him right after Motormaster, and how it had hurt–

It didn’t hurt now, but it had been just like this, him straddling a frame with another behind him, and he didn’t– He couldn’t–

Hold onto his thoughts. Sideswipe whined in confusion when Runamuck and Runabout fragged him in perfect sync, back and forth, in and out, holding him in place as much as he couldn’t even remember to try to get away– Did he want to get away?

Did he?

It felt good. He could barely focus on that, he could barely focus on anything, but somewhere in the haze he could tell his frame was feeling pleasure, that his charge was rising, that it… It… 

Felt good. It didn’t hurt, like it had, like it probably should’ve, it only felt good.

So good. 

He was moaning and he couldn’t quiet himself. He could feel the twins’ fields around him, surrounding him, their smugness and their own pleasure. They liked to drive his thoughts straight out of him, didn’t they?

Was one of them talking?

Both of them?

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“You and Sunstreaker should double team someone too. Bet you’d make it fragging good.”

“A little practice and you’ll be as good as us!”

Laughter. 

Sideswipe whined.

“We’ll even give you lessons!”

“I’d call this the first one but are you even lucid, Sides?”

More laughter.

“The first time is always the best.”

This wasn’t his first–

It touched him so differently than just one spike could, the stretch was more uneven, it didn’t hit his sensors the same, it was so different parts of him that were stroked and jabbed by their spikes and–

And–

His frame tightened further until he was pretty sure he was going to snap cables for sure. A cry was torn from him when an overload crashed right through him, charge crackling all across his plating–

But they didn’t stop. They didn’t overload, and they didn’t stop, and he couldn’t tell up from down anymore. Sideswipe collapsed fully over Runamuck the moment the tension left him, his vision breaking to whitenoise as they kept up with it and started to build another overload right on the heels of the previous one. Was it so hard to understand? They hadn’t come themselves. Of course they’d want that.

And Sideswipe could provide it.

Was that a good thing?

It didn’t really matter, they used his frame irregardless of his thoughts on that—not that he had very many good, well-formed thoughts. Mostly it was just a primal jumble of sensation his valve relentlessly fed him. The brothers rocked his frame with their thrusts and that became about the only thing he was aware of, and it felt like it just lasted and lasted forever, even though some distant part of him was pretty sure it was only a minute or two. They wrung a second overload out of him; this time he didn’t even manage to scream. His mouth fell open but no sound emerged.

His valve tightened and that only made the whole thing that much better, but it seemed to be enough to pull the other twins into their own overloads. He wondered what kind of feedback their bond provided between them, before the double load of come into his valve, hot and heavy, triggered a third, smaller overload that wiped the slate clean again.  

Then… Reprieve. Finally. Their spikes didn’t leave him immediately; they took their time climbing down from their peaks, but they weren’t moving. Sideswipe could slowly, very slowly, begin to piece reality back together.

Sunstreaker was… Not happy, that was one of the first things he noticed. But he hadn’t intervened either, because… Was this so bad? He’d agreed to prepare. With Skywarp, sure, but it wasn’t so far out there for someone else to take the invitation too.

And this wasn’t like with Wildrider and whoever his friend had been. Runamuck and Runabout weren’t as considerate as Skywarp, but they didn’t mean harm, did they? By now they had to know Sideswipe’s frame would be in a state where he could take their spikes at once without… There’d barely been any discomfort.

They hadn’t hurt him and they hadn’t tried to hurt him, had they?

It wasn’t so bad. 

Then they pulled out and Sideswipe shuddered from helm to pede as his valve was left in a mighty gape, just like what Megatron managed. More transfluid and more lubricant was draining out of him, on top of what his round with Skywarp had already created. It was a mess. A really big mess, but true to form, no one else seemed bothered. 

He shouldn’t let it bother him either. All he’d need to do was close his cover to keep it all from coming right back out, and then have a quick shower to clean his outside before Megatron would inevitably add all the more to it.

But he could shower again after that.

He shouldn’t let it bother him.

…Where was the command to close his cover, again?

Runabout left his back moments before Runamuck gently enough pushed him off of him and to the side. Sideswipe didn’t manage to scrounge up the coordination to not end up in a total sprawl over the seating arrangements, but that was alright probably.

He just. Needed a moment. That was all. 

A black servo waved in front of his optics and it really took him an embarrassing amount of time to focus on it, nevermind its owner. “Did we break you?” Runabout asked, though it was with an audible smile and without any real concern as far as Sideswipe could tell. 

There wasn't any reason for concern, really. He couldn’t blame the mech for not thinking there was. He’d just had the wits ‘faced right out of him. That was all.

Sideswipe lifted exactly one servo with more effort than he would’ve liked and gave a thumbs up.

Runabout and Runamuck both cackled, high fived each other, and then…

Wandered off.

Sideswipe cycled a heavy round of air, gushing it out with quite a bit of force.

So. That happened.

And what had they suggested? That he and Sunstreaker performed the same on someone at some point?

Wasn’t that a thought.

Speaking of Sunstreaker… His twin came over and sat down next to him—although making sure the spot he put his aft on was clean and not covered in ‘facing fluids, like… There was a lot of that now, but at least everyone seemed to have gotten it out of their systems. Most of the mates that had been around him had left, and the few that were still present looked all lax and shit. Content, for the time being, before their protocols would ramp back up and drive them to another session of more of the same.

What a life.

It wouldn’t be their life, though.

“We should give you a wash,” Sunstreaker noted, looking at the mess at his groin with some… Malcontent. Sunstreaker liked to be nice and clean, and Sideswipe couldn’t wholly say he didn’t like being that, too. And to be fair, the other mates had a habit of making sure they weren’t covered in all manner of fluids every hour of every day, despite how easy that would’ve been to manage. So, they weren’t the only ones in preferring to have clean frames.

Sideswipe nodded his full agreement, but actually getting up and going to the washracks and all that was… A little harder. His limbs didn’t really want to do what he was telling them to do.

At least he managed to close his cover! Finally. After this much delay. But it kept the puddle under him from growing even larger.

Eugh.

Sunstreaker eventually had to pull him up because he really didn’t manage that on his own, but once up, he stayed up. His legs managed that much.

They managed walking too, albeit a bit slowly. Not falling over was a good achievement already, though, and he didn’t do that at any point of their walk to the washracks where they went straight under a showerhead and let the solvent rain on him. He’d get dirty all over again soon enough so it was a little pointless, but it still made him feel better about his frame, and that alone made it worth it. 

They were just drying up when Skywarp walked into the washracks, looked around, then brightened when he saw them. “Want me to walk you?” he asked and offered.

Sideswipe nodded. Someone needed to do it anyway. Might as well be Skywarp.

Skywarp nodded back at him. “You about ready to go?”

“Yeah, just a sec,” Sideswipe said, double checking he was as dry as he was going to get and that his internals weren’t still dripping, before he pecked a kiss on Sunstreaker’s cheek and hurried after the Seeker that left the washracks a few steps ahead of him.

They stayed deep in their spark, with the expectation and hope that Megatron wouldn’t do anything so outlandish Sideswipe would rather not have Sunstreaker experience it live. As long as nothing like that went down… It’d be nice to be together, somewhere. Between them.

“I noticed you had fun with Runamuck and Runabout,” Skywarp grinned as the harem wing’s doors opened to them.

Sideswipe nodded a little carefully. “It was… An experience.” That was a diplomatic thing to say, wasn’t it? He still didn’t know what the frag he thought about it because it remained no one had asked if he’d like to get double penetrated, but… It could’ve been worse, too.

Skywarp laughed. “Always is! They’re really good at it. Bet you and Sunstreaker would be even better though, ‘least with some practice. You know, being split-spark and all.” Sideswipe had already nodded when Skywarp suddenly started to backpedal a bit. “Don’t get me wrong, I really don’t know what it’s like to be split-spark and I don’t want to assume things ‘cause you’re so rare, but… This sounds really dumb when said out loud and I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but you know, I’ve read things… Non-fiction things? And they say your connection’s even stronger than a bond so… I should shut up.”

It was Sideswipe’s turn to laugh, and he even surprised himself with how genuine it felt.

But it was kind of funny to see Skywarp so flustered. Usually nothing seemed to get to him. “‘Warp, it’s cool. Really. I don’t expect everyone to know a damn thing about us, and then they’ll assume all sorts of things. Gotten that a lot before. But it’s no bother, honestly. And at least you read non-fiction.” He was going for teasing with that last bit. “I haven’t had the chance to consume a lot of entertainment in my lifetime, but looking at what the rest of it is like, I figure the fictional things about split-sparks are going to be absolutely wild.”

That seemed to reassure the Seeker quite a bit, his wings doing this relieved little jerk and flutter. “Oh yeah, you should see the fiction. There’s everything from being heralds of Primus and Unicron to being Primus’ chosen ones to being a prophecy of the end of the world and a bunch more.”

…Yeah, that sounded pretty interesting. He’d probably need to see some of that for himself. Sideswipe shrugged with a chuckle. “Nothing like the unknown and mysterious to really tickle the imagination I guess.”

“True, that,” Skywarp agreed with a grin, and… Then they were at the door’s to Megatron’s wing, that the guards opened for him. Skywarp waved him a cheery goodbye. “Have fun!”

Sideswipe waved back before the doors closed on his heels. His smile died off once he was alone in the dim hallway and he… Sighed.

Right. Time to set their plan in motion all proper like and hope this wouldn’t go too badly. Maybe Megatron wouldn’t be in a crappy mood.

Unavoidable as the whole thing was, Sideswipe told himself to just get it over with and set down the corridor. As was the case every time, all the doors along it except the ones at the very back were closed and Sideswipe didn’t bother with them.

Just walked to the open ones and stepped into the lounge.

Megatron wasn’t alone. Soundwave was present too, as he sometimes was, but unlike before, the second wasn’t dismissed and didn’t leave.

Instead Megatron waved Sideswipe over, accompanying the gesture with, “Sideswipe. Come here.”

No room for misunderstanding, there. Despite his mounting anxiety—that he tried hard to shove down—Sideswipe walked over to the tyrant, Sunstreaker’s treatment still a little too fresh on his mind.

But no, Megatron didn’t manhandle him the same. He really never seemed to treat them the same. They got different touches applied on them—different methods.

It was… Scary, how Megatron knew to account for the differences in their aspects, and pushed in just the way he determined would get to each of them the most. Sideswipe couldn’t say he hadn’t been far too successful in that.

But no more. They had a plan now. They could withstand the rest of what Megatron still saw fit to throw at them.

Megatron was sitting in one of the armchairs around the low central table of the room, Soundwave on the end of the couch closest to him. Sideswipe took a route that didn’t take him past the second and circled from the other side of the table to stand next to Megatron. His spark was fluttering despite everything he tried to tell it and himself.

From now on, all would be fine. He’d just need to do what Megatron wanted, to please him, without letting it get to him too much.

He could do that.

Sunstreaker could do that.

They could do that.

He still didn’t manage to lift his helm, or his gaze from the floor. Maybe that was for the best, anyway. Anything more Megatron could have considered too prideful and defiant.

Not respectful enough.

Megatron’s legs spread to make room for… Him?

Yes, him. “Coax it out.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Sideswipe murmured and moved around Megatron’s leg to kneel in front of him. He didn’t hesitate… Too much, he liked to think, before he pressed his lips against the tyrant’s codpiece, then applied his glossa too. Only moments after that he could feel comm. traffic pick up around him, between Megatron and Soundwave no doubt. With his own still locked, he couldn’t have even tried to spy on them, as much as he didn’t believe that would’ve ever worked.

So they were talking about something they didn’t want him to hear, while there was physical silence in the room, while Soundwave didn’t leave.

Just Sideswipe, expected to pleasure the dictator. His mate, as they were called. Frag that.

And frag this. He seemed to be the only one who thought this was awkward as fuck, though. Megatron and Soundwave just… Lounged, like they didn’t have a care in the world. Lounged and talked things Sideswipe wasn’t allowed to hear.

He tried to ignore that and focus on the order he’d been given, because this was their ticket to freedom. A very unpleasant ticket, but the reward would make it all worth it.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t already have a pretty good idea of what Megatron liked, either. Sideswipe did his best to use those tricks to try to get the tyrant’s panel open, soon preferably, but he got the feeling Megatron was keeping it closed just a little bit longer than what he might’ve in the past—past what level of arousal he had found enough to retract his cover before. It was hot against his mouth and his lips, a sure sign that what he did was working, but it still opened with what Sideswipe thought was a noticeable delay. 

Eventually, though, Megatron allowed it to retract. And still his spike didn’t push out despite his obvious arousal, because Megatron’s iron grip of himself was becoming legendary, much to Sideswipe’s chagrin. He kept his sigh strictly mental, at the very least, because it probably wouldn’t be the best of ideas to let the tyrant know he found this whole thing kind of tiresome.

But dammit, coax it out he would, just to get things closer to being over with. Sideswipe circled the tip still tucked away in its housing with his glossa, probed at the slit at the very head of it, leaned in close enough to kiss it—whatever that might convince Megatron it was acceptable to let it pressurize.

He got to work at it for a while that definitely tried his patience, but at least his annoyance was starting to drown out his self-consciousness—although Sideswipe wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing, because annoyance wasn’t an emotion he could let show. If he was just uncomfortable with the whole setup, that was one thing, but to find anything Megatron asked of him irritating? No, that wasn’t allowed, he knew that much with certainty. Sunstreaker had proven it enough times.

Patience. Perseverance. It paid off in the end, because after far too long spent on the task, the spike finally began to pressurize good and proper. This time Sideswipe couldn’t keep himself from cycling a physical sigh of relief, but luckily neither of the other two mecha present acknowledged it.

As more of the spike began to appear, Megatron gave him another order that Sideswipe really had been expecting already. “Service me.”

“Yes, my Lord,” he responded, just so Megatron wouldn’t find cause to blame him for inattention or disrespect, and… Got to work. This wasn’t exactly unfamiliar anymore, either, and while Sideswipe at first licked along the length, let his lips drag against it and only occasionally came to the tip to take it in his mouth, he knew that once enough of the spike was out, that wouldn’t do anymore. 

Before Megatron would need to tell him as much, Sideswipe reminded himself of what awaited them once they were done with all of this, took the tip in his mouth–

And then more than just the tip. He raised himself a little bit, changed the angle of his throat, straightened it just enough, hesitated–

But pushed himself further on it, until it hit the back of his throat. He corrected his position a little bit, closed his optics so tight… And forced the width of the damn thing into his intake. 

It hurt. He doubted it would ever stop hurting, and he hated it, and Megatron hadn’t even told him to do it!

But they needed to earn his favor. They needed to please him. If that took some initiative, so be it.

It worked. “Good, Sideswipe,” Megatron praised him in a rumble. Sideswipe almost whined, almost cried, because he didn’t want this, any of this, he didn’t want to pleasure Megatron, he didn’t want a spike down his throat, he didn’t want to be the cause for it, he didn’t want the pain–

But to escape this life, he needed to do this. He needed to please, even when it hurt on so many levels. 

This was necessary.

It wasn’t enough to just take it into his throat, though. As much as Megatron’s engine revved when he mistakenly tried to swallow despite his calipers having none of the room to actually do so, this wouldn’t be enough.

So… Sideswipe pulled back.

And then pushed back onto the length.

And then pulled back.

And repeated.

Would he have preferred flat out torture to this? Probably, despite what he knew Megatron to be capable of on that front. Megatron knew how to hurt.

He’d used this to hurt, too, and here Sideswipe was, doing it on his own. Unprompted.

Necessary. He needed to remember that. He was hurting himself, but it was necessary. Just one step on their road to freedom. Eventually it would be nothing but a bad memory, no matter how it hurt in the present.

He could do this.

He had to.

No matter how long it took. It wasn’t as if he could push or tease Megatron over the edge, he’d just need to be as tempting as he could, until Megatron decided enough was enough.

The comm. traffic around him didn’t end as Sideswipe bobbed his helm along the spike, and he had to wonder what they were talking about. Important dictatorship business? Or were they talking about him? His performance?

Could he assume he even had enough worth that the tyrant and his second would’ve discussed him? Probably not.

But both Megatron and Soundwave had already seen him in some pretty disgraceful situations. He could… Deal with this.

He almost couldn’t deal with it when he heard a door opening, followed by pedesteps coming from elsewhere in the room, approaching them with a fast clip. Sideswipe swallowed again, as unintentionally as the first time, and Megatron’s engine purred just so even as Sideswipe pulled back as far as he dared to to try to see past the tyrant’s legs at… Whatever was happening.

A servant was happening. They came with energon, and Sideswipe… Frag. Megatron and Soundwave were one thing.

Servicing the tyrant in front of a servant was another. They had to know what kind of slag went around in the palace, around Megatron, had probably seen a lot of it, but it wasn’t the same. If Sideswipe had felt self-conscious before, he felt ten times so now, fit to straight up squirm from his discomfort that suddenly had to do with more than just the ache in his jaw and intake. 

The servant glanced at him. Just one glance before he resolutely looked away, bowed at the two higher ranking mecha present, pretended Sideswipe wasn’t there, that Megatron didn’t have his spike out in the open and one of his mates between his legs to service it. Sideswipe couldn’t even read what they thought about it, if anything—how they felt about it, if anything. Was it just another day in the office for them? How many times before had they seen Megatron interface with someone? Delivered energon while Megatron was in the middle of things?  

And then he’d set down what he’d brought with him, and left.

Soundwave poured the both of them servings and handed the other cube over to Megatron so the tyrant didn’t need to do more than reach a servo, not even enough to disturb Sideswipe.

Sideswipe, who had forgotten he hadn’t remembered to move, up until Megatron pinched one of his horns.

He started, took stock of the situation—Megatron’s spike still lodged in his mouth, him and Soundwave sipping their energon, only their fields present, Megatron’s digits still on his horn—and quickly went back to work before he was given a verbal warning. 

The tyrant’s servo left his helm once he was back on task, which was approval enough. The comms flying around him slowed until it was just the occasional thing sent this way or that, and it looked like whatever business the two had been talking, it was mostly over with and they were just… Savoring their cubes. Chilling. Like friends might’ve.

Were they friends? Sideswipe had no idea of the exact nature of Megatron’s relationship with the second highest ranking mech in the city, although with how closely together he expected they worked, wouldn’t it make sense if they were something like friends? Was Megatron even capable of having friends? Was Soundwave, for that matter? After all the slag they did… They had to be so messed in head and spark both that he wouldn’t have been surprised if they just didn’t do emotions normal mecha would’ve called fitting for a friendship.

But what did he know.

What he did know was that Megatron was very much not overloading. Even as they worked through their cubes, he didn’t overload. Sideswipe could feel the charge in his systems and the heat wafting from him, but no. Megatron just didn’t want to overload yet, apparently. 

And Sideswipe was genuinely tiring. His throat went almost numb by now and his jaw wasn’t much better off. He didn’t feel good in the slightest and he didn’t want to be doing this, now even less than before–

But then, unexpectedly, Megatron’s servo came down to tap the underside of Sideswipe’s chin.

Sideswipe stilled in confusion for a moment—but not long enough that Megatron would’ve repeated the gesture—before he pulled off, carefully, because was that permission to get off? Megatron hadn’t even come…

At no point did Megatron stop him, though, and Sideswipe pulled back all the way until there was no spike in his mouth. Then he sat back on his heels, only glancing to the side when Soundwave got up. The second gave a shallow bow as usual, before he left. The lounge’s door closed behind him.

“Go to the berthroom,” Megatron ordered him, lazily almost. And what reason did he have to not feel a little lazy? He’d just gotten pleasured for… Sideswipe didn’t even want to know how long for. He had to have such a nice charge in his systems, and he’d just fueled, had good conversation probably… 

Sideswipe got up and with just a little bit of hurry walked over to the berthroom’s door. It opened for him and he stepped through, coming to a stop halfway to the berth. Megatron followed him a few moments later, his spike still very much out. “On the berth,” was the next instruction he was given, and Sideswipe did so, hauling himself up on the too high piece of furniture and scooting away from the edge to make room for the tyrant when Megatron followed him. “Hands and knees.”

This should be… Bearable. Sideswipe turned over and took the position he’d been told to take, and no later than that he could feel Megatron’s servos on him. They first landed on his hips, but then traveled up his sides, caressed along his frame. Megatron’s thumb traced along the brand on his shoulder.

It wasn’t wanted and it wasn’t welcome, and Sideswipe closed his optics even as he allowed it, because what else was he supposed to do? Tell Megatron to go frag himself? Such a good idea. 

“Open.”

Sideswipe retracted his valve cover, then grimaced good and proper when he could feel a mix of fluids released by the retreating panel. They dripped onto the berth and trailed down his legs and it was just the worst feeling.

...Not really, giving oral to Megatron was a hundred times worse, but it still wasn’t a nice feeling.

Megatron, though, just seemed amused by the whole thing, if his field was anything to go by. “Oh?” he questioned without really asking anything, and his servos traveled back down Sideswipe’s frame for what he assumed to be both of the tyrant’s thumbs to sink into his valve. They encountered no resistance.

More fluids seeped out.

Sideswipe thought some explanation might be in order for the state of his valve. “Runamuck and Runabout… They uh…”

He didn’t quite manage to finish that, trailing off instead. What was he supposed to say? That the two had fragged him at the same time, in the same opening?

Yeah, that’s what he probably should’ve said, wasn’t it?

Megatron seemed to catch on, though, which he probably should’ve expected after however many times the other set of twins had done that very same thing. And then… Megatron laughed. “They are a delightful pair, aren’t they?”

Sideswipe stilled in complete and utter confusion, every last one of his thoughts stalling at the… Sound. It wasn’t a big laugh, more of a chuckle, really, but it sounded so genuine and he hadn’t really… Believed Megatron was even capable of something like that. The mech was evil to the core.

And he’d just laughed. Genuinely?

And called two of his mates delightful.  

The digits disappeared from his valve while Sideswipe was still trying to make sense of it, replaced swiftly by Megatron’s spike. It slid in without a twinge, aided by the absolutely copious amounts of fluids present, and that didn’t help Sideswipe’s thoughts any. Skywarp was one thing, Runamuck and Runabout sure had been interesting and new, but only Megatron could fill every inch of him. His sensors sang their praises even as Sideswipe shuddered, hating his frame just a little bit more no matter how much this was to be expected.

Megatron’s field still felt… Light. Like he was in a honest to Primus good mood.

And he’d just laughed at the implications of what Sideswipe hadn’t managed to say.

Sideswipe’s vents stuttered at a harder thrust into his frame as Megatron slowly picked up his pace. He’d already had all the charge in his systems, but now he still seemed intent on taking his sweet ass time with Sideswipe’s valve as he’d taken his time with his mouth. There was something languid about his motions, the deep strokes, how he sometimes pulled entirely out before plunging back in. 

Sideswipe? Sideswipe didn’t have the same ability to stave off his overloads indefinitely, and he was trying to fight down his own charge in no time at all as Megatron started to play with his frame. His servos cupped his aft, stroked, squeezed, and Sideswipe’s arms shook as the pleasure in his systems multiplied far too fast.

“This really is your weak spot, isn’t it?” he could hear Megatron muse a second before there was a slap on his aft. Sideswipe jolted at the bit of sting, but it really wasn’t that hard.

Not hard enough to hurt in a bad way.

He moaned before he could stop himself, and there it was again. Megatron chuckled.  

Had Primus suddenly stopped existing? Would they fall into the blank of space at any moment, their planet disappearing from around them? 

What was happening? 

He was getting fragged, that’s what. That was about the only thing Sideswipe was sure of anymore with Megatron thrusting in and out of his valve and toying with his frame without restrictions. He whined, then whined harder, and his arms shook all the more until his front end collapsed entirely under the barrage of sensation from his hind.

“Arms, Sideswipe,” Megatron reminded him, and… Right, hands and knees? This wasn’t hands and knees, this was knees and shoulders.

But he couldn’t quite find it in himself to push himself back up.

“Or do you need some help with that?” Megatron took pity on him with a growl that didn’t really sound annoyed, but that had Sideswipe stilling in trepidation nevertheless.

He was pretty sure it was for a reason when Megatron reached and caught him by the throat, forcibly pulling him back up, his helm tilted back uncomfortably.

And then Megatron tightened his grip and a bit of discomfort on his spine became the lesser concern over the burst of static his vocalizer produced—all it could produce, anymore. He could feel the parts in his neck grinding against each other in a way that was all too familiar, but Megatron tutted him when one of Sideswipe’s servos wanted to come up to… Pry the tyrant’s digits off? No, that wouldn’t have worked anyway.

At the bit of reprimand Sideswipe let his servo fall back to the berth, as little as he was supporting his own weight anymore. Megatron did most of the work.

His ventilations had quickened from more than just arousal, which had gotten temporarily stamped down by the memories. Only temporarily though, because Megatron was still very much fragging his valve and his frame couldn’t just ignore that, not even with the fear bringing a new tremble into him. Megatron had already mangled him like this once. Because of something Sunstreaker had done, or hadn’t done, that time—had Sideswipe really earned the same with his own actions?

What had he done so wrong?

But… Megatron’s hold didn’t tighten further. It was tight, tight enough to cause pain, but not damage. It was as if Megatron knew the exact limits of his frame and decided to not cross them.

Sideswipe was almost grateful for that, even if relief couldn’t displace enough of the uncertainty to remove the tension from his frame. Megatron could still change his mind. Sideswipe could still make a mistake, and Megatron could change his mind and decide to punish him. How likely was that? He didn’t know, but it was a possibility, wasn’t it?

He didn’t want that.

“You’re settling in, aren’t you?” Megatron asked from him so conversationally, but with the pressure on his vocalizer, Sideswipe wasn’t in much of a position to respond. It was a very one-sided conversation.

That didn’t seem to bother Megatron very much. "Interfacing with Runamuck and Runabout… And Skywarp, I hear.” Where had he heard that from? “I know my harem is welcoming. You needn’t fight it—and neither does your brother. He’s holding back more than you are, isn’t he? Do tell him to loosen up a bit.” Was it Starscream? Did Megatron know about his harem’s inner workings, without even being present, because of Starscream?

Pit, it was getting hard to think. The charge was beginning to swamp his systems good and proper. Megatron likely noticed, because he sped up his pace a bit more. Sideswipe couldn’t keep his frame from jerking back against him and his spike.  

“That’s it, Sideswipe,” Megatron muttered at him, using his free servo to again slap his aft. Sideswipe despaired the way his frame responded at once, arousal lurching higher until he was gasping for cool air, dancing on the edge of release. “Overload for me,” and as he said that, Megatron snapped his hips forward, right against the roof of his valve. 

It wasn’t his choice. Was it, and he wouldn’t have overloaded on fragging command, but the grind and pressure against his innermost sensors took the choice right out of his hands.

He overloaded. He would’ve probably made some sound if Megatron didn’t keep his hold; as it was, Sideswipe could only spit static as charge exploded from his core, crackling across his entire frame until the pleasure almost turned to pain.

Almost, but not quite. It remained as pleasure despite it all, and it blew his goddamn mind all over again, as if Runamuck and Runabout hadn’t done that thoroughly enough.

Distantly he could feel Megatron slamming against his aft one more time before the tyrant’s overload joined his own, extended it, his transfluid only adding to the mess his valve had been to begin with. Megatron had held on for this long, and for what? Sideswipe didn’t know. Just to enjoy having a constant charge in his systems?

It didn’t matter. He’d chosen to overload now, and it brought heaven down and hell up on Sideswipe. He would’ve wailed.

There was just more static.

It took forever for his overload to actually taper off, and he couldn’t tell if that was in part because Megatron’s overload took a while, but that wouldn’t have surprised him with how long he’d held it off for.

It took forever, but eventually it did, and Sideswipe gasped as the release of charge abruptly ended. Megatron let go of his neck, and he had none of the strength to keep himself up. He only caught himself on his elbows, bowing his helm onto the berthtop. His frame… The aftereffects of his overload couldn’t be called just a buzz, it was so much more than that. He felt sensitized from helm to pede and his valve was still spasming with the aftershocks, drawing a pleased rumble from Megatron.

Sideswipe grimaced, but that expression was short-lived when Megatron pet, then slapped his aft, like he hadn’t already done that enough. With his sensors already so alive it did things to him like nothing had ever before. Sideswipe moaned, then keened when Megatron repeated the whole thing. He didn’t even know if he would’ve wanted to pull away, but he knew better than to even try. 

Megatron hadn’t left his valve and only picked up an easy pace again.

And fondled his aft.

Then slapped it.

And again. 

It was too much. His valve hadn’t had any of the time to recover from his previous overload, so sensitive, and already a next one was building, and his aft was no better, and Megatron had no mercy for him, none whatsoever. His keening morphed into sobs that had nothing to do with negative sensations—he wasn’t even sure if there was any negative emotion. There should’ve been. Probably. Right?

But he couldn’t hold a thought long enough to decide if he minded this whole thing or not.

“Yes, I think I’m keeping you.” Megatron sounded... So amused.

Was that a good thing?

Was that a bad thing?

Was that according to plan?

...It was, wasn’t it?

( Next )