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I Have Other Uses For You Darling	By : fishbub Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > AU/AR Views: 2171 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-I Have Other Uses For You Darling
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This a test run and has been posted before. Just trying this out before putting up some fics I can't put up at Deviant Art. I fears the banhammer over there. This isn't that explicit, but the tone seems to fit. ^^

It's a darker version of Lockdown x Prowl than my other fics and not part of the other L x P stuff. Takes place in a vague future AU. Title is from a verse in 'I Love The Dead'.

Warning: dark, noncon, necro?

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I Have Other Uses For You Darling

by rumblebee25

The hunt was far more successful than he planned. Decepticon and Autobot forces were caught in the blast and both sides had injuries. The ninja was stunned, thrown against a wall and before he could recover Lockdown swooped in for the kill. He placed a cloaking device to mask Prowl’s presence and as the energy signature went off line, the bounty hunter heard Optimus calling over Prowl’s com link, the panic reaching a crescendo.

“Not this time,” Lockdown said and he crushed the link, breaking the connection once and for all. He scattered the pieces before picking up his trophy. The luster of Prowl’s armor was marred by debris and smoke, his right leg had taken a blast from one of Starscream’s clones, but he was fully functional.

“Lockdown,” he said, his voice so weak it was barely heard. It would be the last words he would ever say. Under his own power that is. As much as the bounty hunter wanted to hear more, he placed the shock stick to Prowl’s chest and put him into stasis.

“Sorry kid, “ Lockdown said and he kissed his prey’s cheek, “You know I can't leave without you.”

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His ship avoided detection easily since he really wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. It was assumed Prowl was killed in the explosion and he was mourned, along with others that Lockdown could care less about. He had what he came for. All that was left was to prepare his trophy.

Lockdown followed a ritual for every coup, but this would be the most elaborate to date. The operating lift was spotless, his tools were polished to a high gleam, replacement parts were lined up, the restraints were ready, his scanning equipment and video monitors were on stand by. All he needed was the star.

He carried Prowl to a large basin and carefully cleaned away the dust and dirt, taking stock of the damage. Nothing major, mostly plating damage and a weakened strut along the right knee. That left plenty of time for cataloguing the ninja’s systems and physical structure. His preservation depended on the right maintenance and monitoring.

“You will last until the universe burn away,” Lockdown promised, drying Prowl’s body with a soft cloth.

Tenderly he carried the ninja to the table, laying him out and putting the restraints on him. Heavy black cables weren’t needed, but the occasion called for it. Once Prowl was secured, Lockdown hooked up the stasis support and placed electrodes to key wiring junctures along the body. A full work up of the ninja was needed, for future upgrades and any repairs that might be called for.

The bounty hunter’s breathing deepened as he worked, his fingers lingering over areas he never dreamed he could touch. Carefully he removed Prowl’s old platings, examining them in the light and kissing then reverently before laying them aside for future study.

He loved freelancing and the pay was good, but it was all just a means to an end. Trophies and mods in his care stayed as new and functional as the moment they were minted. He could preserve and maintain any device long after its donor faded to grey. Over the millennia, Lockdown had taken countless mechs apart, of both the on and offline variety. Now all that experience culminated in this, his greatest project to date. Methodically, clinically, he disassembled his beloved.

Exposed frames and snug, secretive wiring never lost its thrill, the flex of cables and push pull workings of hydraulics, the naked truth of pure mass shifting machinery. He believed every bot was a work of art underneath their platings. But Prowl put them all to shame.

The small and powerful frame so perfectly balanced that it surpassed any of those crass Seekers. Even as he lay there, stripped of his outer housing, Prowl’s body had the illusion of being ready to take flight. Lockdown caressed the bared frame and internals working in silent efficiency. He hissed in appreciation.

“Beautiful,” he said, taking Prowl’s hand and kissing the naked steel fingers. With a love struck smile Lockdown continued his work, the time flying by until Prowl was fully reassembled.

The damaged plating was replaced and an internal monitoring device installed, to keep Prowl in permanent stasis and trigger whatever response required. Once finished, Lockdown stepped back and touched the controls, bringing the video camera in for a close sweep of his trophy

The ninja gleamed under the operating lights, a beacon in the dark drab room. The high gloss of his black and gold plating was as new as a protoform’s and he looked fresh from the assembly line. His face was relaxed, serene, in a peaceful recharge from which he’d never awaken.

The bounty hunter licked his lips and slid his hand down Prowl’s chest and torso, his anticipation building. He bent down and kissed his prey, first softly then assured there was no response, he deepened the kiss.

The gleaming body was pristine, untouched, his to play with. No more allegiance to the Autobots, no past, no other signs that another had laid their servos on him. Lockdown chuckled. The tone of Prime’s voice gave him away. He didn’t deserve a lovely machine like this. He probably didn’t even know what do with such a prize.

“But I do,” Lockdown murmured, his hand grazing Prowl’s thigh. It was tempting to take him right here, the ninja looked so good under the lights. But he needed room to work, to fully appreciate this trophy. The restraints were ready in his quarters and so where the cameras. Prowl may not be conscious but his body would react, he would still cry out in pain or pleasure. And Lockdown could control his trophy’s movements for maximum effect.

With a smirk, the bounty hunter undid the straps and lifted Prowl gently. He carried his him back to his quarters and he laid his trophy down on the bed. Limp as a doll, Prowl looked as he was asleep, vulnerable and defenseless. The bounty hunter switched the cameras on and the lights came up.

“Computer, monitor the ship and don’t bother me unless it’s important. Keep a watch for any approaching craft. Understood?” Lockdown said and signed off. Then he restrained Prowl once more, positioning him so the cameras could catch every detail.

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Soft wordless cries, his body reacting to stimuli without shame or thought, pleasure unrestrained by petty thoughts of love and loyalty. His spark opened up, greedy for merging, his hips bucked of their own accord without being prompted, and he trembled as climax took him.

“That's it love, be mine,” Lockdown panted.

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A prize like this deserved a place of honor, as a visual display of conquest. Prowl was too high profile though. If the Decepticons spotted him they would tell their foes out of pure spite. And if the Autobots found out, Optimus wouldn’t rest until the ninja was returned to him.

But it was disrespectful to keep him hidden away. Lockdown had prepared for that as well. A mere pod was not good enough, the bounty hunter wanted something more elaborate. He had installed a custom made stasis chamber for Prowl and placed it in the adjoining quarters.

A metal dais took center place, images of winged organics on the side seemed to support the structure and an oblong chamber of black and gold lay inside. Its power source and controls was kept separate from the ship. It would stay operational even if the ship wasn’t. The interior was cushioned and molded to Prowl’s form, the lining made of an earth fabric called silk. It seemed fitting somehow.

Lockdown placed his beloved inside, all evidence of their tryst was cleaned away. Prowl was once again pure and inviolate. The bounty hunter gazed at him, the memory still fresh, the taste of metal and oil enticing. Already the hunger was returning.

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Author notes snipped from my dA page.

I love you things I see, as much as they love me

That's from the song Sick Things. ^^ Was listening to Alice Cooper's Billion Dollar Babies and zonked out on a high fever and meds. I don’t recommend it. Anyhoo, it spawned this.

The idea was in my head for a while, playing on Lockdown’s undertaker design and his creepy hobby of taking trophies and mods from his victims.

It didn’t take shape until I heard Sick Things. Mary Ann and I Love the Dead helped fleshed this out so to speak. *boo, bad pun* Night Shift by Siouxie & The Banshees played a part in this too.
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I Have Other Uses For You Darling