Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

Re-Programming	By : MissFairytale Category: Transformers > Transformers: Prime Views: 5156 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I make no money from this. :'D

Chapter List
- 1-Reprogramming
- 1
N/A: This started out as kind of a request thingy off someone on Tumblr, but then it kind of took on a life of its own? It’s a mangled version of G1/Prime Soundwave and Prime Bumblebee... It doesn’t really stick to any of the continuities... just think of it as a PWP. Sticky. :’D

_>_

In the dark of his quarters, Soundwave looms over his captured prize and watches him intently. His visor reflects an image of the prone yellow mech curled up, back pressed against the wall. Soundwave scans him again, lingering as his internal diagnostics wash over the young frame. There has been no change for the last few hours – it is all as planned.
Soundwave has taken the prerogative to disengage the yellow autobot’s main weaponry functions as well as undoing the repairs that Ratchet had so painstakingly administered on Bumblebee’s vocalisers. Soundwave doesn’t need him to speak – besides, he finds the clicking and the beeping endearing in guilty-pleasure kind of way. He has disabled his firewalls too – just in case.
He disconnects a tentacle from its hibernation port and slides it out to touch gently at the recharging form. He has promised Ravage and Lazerbeak a great number of energon treats in response to finding out the location of his new little conquest~
The delicate feelers at the centre of his tentacle’s sensor pad tingle gently with a small thrum of electricity as they pass over the curves and seams of Bumblebee’s dormant chassis. Soundwave watches his own ministrations with great interest, taking a mental map of the other’s body.
He has watched Bumblebee for a long while – he constantly seeks him out on the battlefields, locating the small form easily. There is something about Bumblebee’s size that draws Soundwave; something not entirely innocent in nature. His feelers tickle the edges of Bumblebee’s chest plates and Soundwave allows himself a moment to imagine the yellow mech folding down into a cassette, slotting neatly between his chest plates and resting there along with Ravage and Ratbat. The thought excites him.
A mech so small has no business being on the battlefield. Soundwave knows that originally Bumblebee was a scout and that it is only recently that the little yellow creature has found himself in the middle of more than one fray. Soundwave likes to think that Bumblebee will relish the opportunity to get back to his original function, though it doesn’t really matter if he doesn’t because Soundwave will always take what he wants and will damn everyone else’s opinions.
His feelers caress Bumblebee’s face plates as he muses on what he will do to the other first. He will need to make him another protoform – Bumblebee is small, but not small enough and crafting a new cassette body will take time. Soundwave has time in abundance however and considers himself eternal. He was there at the start of the war, and will make sure that he is there at the end. He will see the whole universe burn before he lets himself, his cassettes or Megatron fall.
So the body will be a secondary matter – Soundwave intends to enjoy the little autobot’s form greatly in the meantime. His feelers stiffen into tiny connecting wires and slid into the side of Bumblebee’s head and neck, attaching themselves to his neural lines.
Soundwave tilts his visor up to the ceiling and shifts his long arms forwards so that they rest on either side of the yellow mech, pulling him gently away from the wall. Soundwave emits a weak pulse of energy through his feelers into the other’s circuitry. His screen flickers, granted a sick euphoria by the quiver of arousal his telepathy picks up. He sends out another weak pulse, and then a few minutes later, he sends out another.
Bumblebee is still in a forced recharge and won’t wake for a few kilks yet.
Soundwave sends out another plus, revelling a little in the way that Bumblebee’s circuits flare with heat in response and he thinks that this will be a very pleasant way for the younger mech to online. He lets his tentacle ports click open so that two can snake to Bumblebee’s arms and shift to pin them above his head. Two more slide down, skimming the covering of Bumblebee’s interface hatch just as he sends a much sweeter pulse of energy through the other’s frame.
The interface hatch slides open, revealing Bumblebee’s port – already slicked with blue coolant and oily lubricant. A tentacle slides towards it, wriggling feelers sliding in to press gently at the sensitive nodes.
Soundwave is rewarded with a slight whirr of vocalisers as Bumblebee finally comes online and Soundwave encourages him with another pulse of electricity and a deft twist of the feelers as they probe deeper into the other. He leans in, visor lit up with twisted glee as he watched his prize online his optics. Those brilliant aqua discs flare in alarm, widening. Soundwave can practically hear the programmes roaring to life in the other’s head.
The feelers connected at Bumblebee’s neck thrum, sending a crackle of numbing energy down the other’s chassis rendering the other temporarily immobile beneath him. He senses the fear and the revulsion and the arousal and he internally chuckles. Pulse. Twist. Pulse.
A sharp burst of static from Bumblebee as coolant dribbles down the coiled length of the tentacle between his legs.
That’s it. Soundwave thinks to himself, that’s it, little autobot. Surrender to me. He twists the feelers again, eliciting a sharper burst of static. He finds a sensor node deep inside of the other and lets his tentacle pulse against it repeatedly.
Bumblebee’s back lifts clear of the berth and he struggles, static and beeps frantically filling the air – Soundwave is pleased to hear the youngling’s cooling fans kick in suddenly in an attempt to return his core temperature to normal levels. Another harsher burst of static.
Then human music surges up through Bumblebee’s speakers, volume hiked up to maximum, ”Stop right now, thank you very much!”
“Request: Denied.” Soundwave responds coolly, staring down at the other with glee. He’s heard that the other utilised the human radio equipment to communicate in desperate situations and it was fascinating to witness such a thing in action. “Submit to Soundwave.”
“You’re not the boss of me now, no, you’re not the boss of me!” The radio warbles.
Soundwave releases a large pulse of energy, and presses feelers against all of the sensitive nodes in the other’s port. A wash of coolant coats him and a shrieking hiss is the only response he gets for his trouble. Soundwave pulses again. Then again. “Query: Length of time autobot is prepared to fight?”
“No, no no no no, no no no no, there’s no limit!” Bumblebee responded, fans whirling faster as his core temperature spiked.
Soundwave measured everything and kept an internal log of the other’s reactions. “Negative.” He says smoothly, “Incorrect answer.” He pushes feelers further into the other, and starts to send rapid pulses through the younger bot’s system. He amps up the vibrations and listens to the garbled responses of mangled pop songs that the yellow mech struggles to form.
He pulls the other’s legs wider apart, and then wider still.
He watches as the autobot squirms madly and struggles to hold off the inevitable. Soundwave sends a violent pulse through the other’s port and releases Lazerbeak from her hold to record the moment as Bumblebee screams, arches and overloads.
Bumblebee’s processors jam, and oil and coolant gush onto the berth as Soundwave retracts his tentacles back into himself.
Bumblebee lies unable to move, trembling and on the verge of offlining beneath him.
“Ravage: Eject.”
Ravage lands between Bumblebee’s spread legs and without waiting for a verbal command he settles between the mech’s thighs.
“Bumblebee will submit. Bind to Soundwave – grant access to spark.”
“Divide and conquer! Sell off and prosper! Pushed down, enslaved!” A burst of static, and a small widening of the optics are Ravage started to purr. “The blood is on your hands! Life stealing motherfucker! Do you people know what you are up to?! Your sins will come back on you!”
“Death is not the outcome.” Soundwave told the other honestly. “Soundwave does not waste.”
Ravage pressed his muzzle to the coolant slicked port and suddenly purred again, sending new vibrations through the sensitive body.
Bumblebee’s hands slammed down on top of Ravage’s head, trying to push the other away, thumbs digging into audio sensors, fingers scratching at the skull plates on the back of the feline head. But Ravage will not be moved – Ravage has been with Soundwave a long time.
Ravage was there to help with the enslaving of Senetor Ratbat and Ravage is here to help with the enslaving of the autobot Bumblebee.
“Query: Autobot feels pleasure?”
The yellow mech squeaks and beeps erratically, temperature spiking high.
“I would rather starve than lose this body!”
Soundwave thinks that this is an admirable sentiment, however misplaced. Bumblebee will lose his body. And he will lose his friends. He will lose everything he knows and become part of something much greater.
Soundwave watches Ravage pleasure the autobot and he has Lazerbeak take a visual and audio recording of the squirming and sobbing mech. He watches Ravage push his dark glossa against the port, breaching it to lick at the coolant and nodes that line it. He enjoys the spiking temperature and static-filled squeal that echo out into his room.
Ravage’s skilled glossa and purring forces Bumblebee through another overload – this one leaving crackling energy around the edge of the yellow mech’s port. Soundwave allows his cameras to focus and zoom on the image and he takes several snapshots that he will release to the autobots later just to antagonise them~
He lets Ravage lick up some of the spilled juices before he recalls him to rest. Feeling Ravage’s charged and heated form curled up in his chest gives Soundwave another delicious thrill. If he could groan, he would.
He leans back a little, his long spider-fingers tracing the interface hatch between his own legs. Bumblebee isn’t even looking, so Soundwave doesn’t wait. His hatch slides open smoothly, hissing as he reveals his spike, already glistening with his own coolant. He gazes down into Bumblebee’s optics. “Submit. Soundwave is superior.” And he leans over the other, covering him with his much larger form before he pushes his spike deep into the other’s overly sensitive port. He lets out his own hiss of static in response to how tight the other is – he knows then that this mech has never interfaced with anyone before. That Soundwave is his first gives him a very pleasurable tingle in his circuits. He takes a dozen snapshots of the other’s faceplates. “Submit.” He repeats again.
There is no response from the radio or the speakers – perhaps there are no pop songs in the world that properly convey what Bumblebee wishes to say.
The feelers still fastened at Bumblebee’s neck start pulsing again, and slowly Soundwave begins to move. He lets his own programming wash over Bumblebee’s – pleased that he had the foresight to take down the other’s firewalls earlier. Bumblebee’s mind and body were Soundwave’s playthings and he pulses and thrusts into the other, never letting up.
His internal reading records the pleasure that races through the other’s frame. He monitors the other’s temperature as he probes deeper into the other’s mind and memory banks. He burrows in like a worm, digging through data and backup systems as his spike violates the other’s valve.
“Bumblebee is mine.” He says, pleased, and slowly he burrows deep enough into the other’s memory files to start deleting some of his core history. Goodbye Autobot allegiance. Hello unquestioned loyalty to the Decepticon cause.
There is a flare of static, the sound of a radio jumping, gargling and skipping channels, until finally out blasted: “But in the end, you’ll see! You won’t stop me! I am a fighter and there ain’t no turning back!”
Soundwave wants to laugh – but instead he twists his feelers and cuts the other’s ability to use the radio for communication. He digs in deep and rips out every good memory of every human and every autobot the other held in his data files.
Soundwave deletes everything – aside from the other’s personality. He finds the (now ex) autobot annoying and noisy but it wouldn’t hurt to keep something the same. He thrusts in harder and uses his tentacles to prise open the other’s chestplates.
Bumblebee is too far gone to protest or even realise what was happening.
Soundwave unlocks his own spark and without waiting he crashes their chests together. His screen flashes white as the glowing tendrils of his own spark curl around and consume Bumblebee’s – he swallows the other whole and thrusts hard just as he overloads and the sheer gargantuan charge that rushes into Bumblebee is enough to offline them both.
._._._.
When Soundwave onlines, he finds Bumblebee in recharge, curled up against his side. He wakes him with a twist of his feelers, and waits for the other’s optics to shutter on and off several times before they focus blankly on him.
His feelers reconnect the programming that allows speech. He will carry out all programme repairs first and let the other remain in this form until he creates a new cassette.
“What is your designation?”
Vocalisers squeal in protest and difficulty, “RRRRRR-umble-beeeeep.”
“What is your allegiance?”
“...sound*crackle*wave.”
Soundwave looms over his new pet and retracts his visor to smile at him. “Designation: Rumble. Welcome.”
Rumble beeps, flexing his hands and looking at them in awe – he can’t remember anything apart from Soundwave. Soundwave is everything. “RRRR-umble.” He repeats.
._._._._.
“He is young.” Ravage comments when he is released, later and the newly named Rumble is once again asleep on his master’s berth. “Barely out of sparklinghood. You should make another to entertain him.”
“Suggestion noted.”
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Re-Programming