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Market Commodity	By : Scienceteacher Category: Transformers > G1 > Round Robins Views: 11586 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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***Insanity part 4**

**Agony** written by StSE, universe G1

Scream tried to mask his whimper as he obediently followed Daniel towards Angie’s touring bus. He worked his dental plates together; the grinding of metal against metal seemed to somehow fit how he was feeling. He’d been given a glimpse of how life for a clone should be. Granted, he’d been used by Sam and ordered around. But he’d been well treated, and had felt the blessed sensation of true pleasure during interface as his programming told him he was meant to. But the glimpse had been brief. Too terribly brief! And now his meta fell deeper into the blackness of despair with every step he took.

They stopped in front of the bus’s side door and Daniel rapped on it. Scream locked his optics to the ground as he stood in stoic silence behind the blond man. He wanted to scream to Daniel to take him. Take him far away and never bring him back. But his programming locked his jaws shut, locked his thrusters to the ground. He was Daniel’s to command and now he was being returned to his registered owner. His programming forced him to obey even though his meta screamed for him to disobey.

“Well, well, I do hope Stupid here performed his duties well,” Angie purred as she opened the door. She smiled at Daniel as she gave him a warm hug.

“Yep, he sure is quiet but eager to please,” Daniel quipped with a nod.

“Go inside the bus Scream, Tron will be in charge while I’m gone,” Angie purred as she stepped out and nodded to the open door.

Daniel didn’t see the dangerous gleam in her eyes as she said that to Scream. But the red clone did. The red clone knew she must have given Tron the orders to do anything he wanted to him. His wings drooping, Scream stumbled inside. Turning his head slightly as he did so, getting a last brief glimpse of Daniel’s muscular back as the man walked away. As the glimpse of pleasure and a complete life walked away… Tears filled the abused clone’s optics. He wasn’t a good enough clone to deserve that life. He was a bad clone. He deserved to be beaten..

He met Tron’s optics as he entered the bus. The hungry predatorily gleam in them terrifying the red clone to his core. “So, Speed was bragging how much better he was at giving a blow job – than you are. So why don’t you practice for a while?” Tron growled.

Scream’s optics lowered, that’s when he noticed that the gray clone’s cable was already extended and pressurized. With a whimper, he fell to his knees and surrounded it with his mouth. No thought of refusal entered his meta. He was a slave to Angie and she had given command over him to Tron. So he had to obey. Had to obey without question… He felt the rake of a riding crop against his sensitive wings as he pleased Tron. The gray clone beating him mercilessly even as he moaned from what Scream was doing with his mouth. He berated the red clone for being so pathetic.. Being so stupid… Being so bad…

Tron scowled down at the red clone as that clone pleasured his cable. He hit the Seeker’s sensitive wings again and again, knowing just how much that really hurt Scream. But the red clone couldn’t scream because of the cable down his throat. The wincing of his red optics and jerks of his chassis were the only outward indicators of the pain he was experiencing. A sense of satisfaction rolled through Tron’s networks as he continued his torture of the other clone. He wanted someone to pay for the injustice that he felt was being done to him! For Tron was better than a mere slave! But yet, here he was. Forced to be a slave by his own programming! Forced to say ‘yes’ to anything that Angie asked of him.

Yes, he had observed Speed and TC quite closely these last few days. Seen what a clone should be! Yes, even though he despised them, he admired them. Actually admiring TC even more so than Speed! TC was far more intelligent than his yellow ‘cousin’. Indeed! Far more intelligent than the humans gave him credit for! He had positioned himself into a reality that no other clone had truly entered. He had been accepted by most humans as a human!

Tron ground his dental plates together as he considered this. He was jealous of the power he perceived the blue clone as having. For deep in his meta he was sure of one thing. One very important fact those humans, mechs and even his fellow clones seemed to be overlooking. Yes, he was certain of it! Very certain of it! HE was sentient! All CLONES were sentient! As sentient as any human or mech thought that they themselves as being. But as a clone, he was trapped! Trapped to be forever a slave to the master logged into his meta! And he was getting angrier and angrier with each passing day of his slavery.

With a snarl, he grabbed the trembling red clone’s wing edges in his hands. Mercilessly, he dug into their surface. He cackled - as even with his mouth full of the thick cable – Scream screamed a muffled scream. Yes, the red clone would pay for Tron’s internal rage! He would pay dearly! Tron would ensure that Scream would never feel pleasure again… Never….

-----

Whimpering, Scream wrapped his arms around himself again. He sat on his bent legs now as he rocked. It hurt too much to have any pressure against his codpiece. Ever since Tron had come up with that one idea - Scream cringed as he remembered it. Whimpered as the memory echo came over him..

…** He was trapped. All his weight hung painfully on his arms, his shoulder linkages popping from the strain. His legs were chained to the sides of the frame. They were chained tight to the heavy iron, which forced him into almost a side-split type position. His thrusters not even touching the ground…

“So, this will make him scream even more?” Angie asked. She sat in her normal chair, legs spread as she masturbated. Her desire heightened by the fear she saw in his face. She loved his fear. Scream didn’t know why.. But she got off on it..

Tron snickered as Scream whimpered at his invasive fingers. “Oh yes. Anytime he interfaces with either a human or clone, he will scream now,” he smirked. Picking up a tack, he held it between two fingers as he inserted them deep inside the helpless clone.

Scream yelped as he felt the tack pierce the interior of his valve sheath. The pointed tip of the tack just barely touched his highly reactive sensors there. It hurt even now, and he could imagine how it would feel when his valve was stretched during interface, slamming the tack relentlessly into that sensory bundle. “Please… Please don’t do this…” he pleaded.

“So this won’t hurt those that are using him, will it?” Angie asked. Scream’s sobbed pleas just made her even more intrigued by this idea.

Tron smirked and showed her the flat black head of the tacks he was using. “Nope, no one will even know they’re there. I’m gluing them in real nicely, so they’ll never come out,” he explained.

Scream yelped, tears streaming down his face as Tron roughly inserted his fingers again and again within his aft port. The gray clone stabbed and secured more of those terrifying tacks within him. He pleaded with them as he cried. Promised to be a good clone now.. Promised to never be a bad clone again… But his pleas fell on deaf ears. Once Tron had ‘installed’ half-a-dozen of them in that valve, he moved to the frontal port and proceeded to do the same.

He writhed in the chains, his sobs increasing as Angie ordered him to extend and pressurize his bonding cable. Tron smirked and grabbed it, ‘installing’ those horrible tacks along its length. “Well, you’ll definitely fit your fucking name you pathetic clone,” he sneered.

Angie had walked up to him then. Grabbing his helm, she jerked his optics to her. “You’re a bad clone Scream. You deserve this punishment. Do not ever remove them, do you understand?” she growled.

Scream sobbed. He didn’t know why he’d been built to be so bad. Didn’t understand.. But he nodded his understanding of her order. And as the woman impaled herself on his cable, he screamed. The tacks pushed into his sensory bundles mercilessly from the pressure of her pussy against him. As he screamed, he heightened her arousal, and she came in a blistering wave of muscle contractions along his length, forcing the tacks even deeper into his sensors. He had blacked out from the pain, hanging there limply..

When he had awoken, he felt Tron’s hands on his hips. His audios picked up the clone’s cackles as he had thrust his thickened cable into his aft port. Fire tore through his networks as those tacks within him raked his sensory bundles. He had writhed and screamed in agony until his vocalizor had overheated. Merciless, Tron had switched his cable from frontal to rear port and back again, making Scream feel like he was being torn apart from the inside. Those horrible tacks destroying any pleasure that he might’ve felt….***

Scream rocked himself as the memory echo passed over him. That day had happened months ago. So long ago that it felt like an eternity had passed. He was in constant pain now. Every movement, every intake of breath – he felt those tacks as they caressed his sensory bundles. He couldn’t even stand to sit, or even lie with his pelvic armor touching any surface. So he’d gotten into the habit of always curling his thrusters under him. Settling his weight on his thighs..

Even when he lay down to defrag or recharge, he kept pressure off his pelvic armor. Curling his arms and legs under himself and sleeping like a newborn baby does. He kept his rump in the air, his codpiece not touching any surface lest those tacks be accidentally pressed harder against his sensors.

He rocked himself in the silent confines of his room, his meta drifting through his memory files. Files filled with only pain now…

…** “God, he’s so tight in there,” the drunken man slurred as he drove his cock into Scream’s depths. The clone writhed under him, but didn’t try to escape. Every thrust was agony.. Agony earned because he was a bad clone.

Angie had started to bring Scream out for her drug and drink filled parties. While Tron smirked and enjoyed the pleasure from the intercourse with the various humans, Scream felt nothing but searing agony.. But the human guests were so fucked up by the time he was brought downstairs; they believed his screams were from incredible pleasure. So they lined up for their turn with the ‘active’ clone.

He’d be fucked for hours. The cocaine and Meth fueling the human’s passion… Fueling their incessant need to listen to his screams of ‘pleasure’… Finally, they’d start to leave, believing that his tears were because of their departure.. That he was sorry to see them go.

He’d be told to go his room then. And after stumbling up the stairs and shutting his door, he’d huddle against the wall for hours on end. His meta trying to comprehend that pleasure now meant agony, even as his core programming forced him to seek it. His base programs began to fragment further under the strain. Confusion and pain becoming his only reality.. Eventually, he’d uncurl himself and began the long repetitive process of cleaning and waxing himself. This job now taking days to complete, for he wasn’t done until he’d redone each section almost a hundred times..

Then the next ‘party’ would begin..***

The memory echo passed and Scream continued to rock. He began to mumble to himself. Some of his words now becoming gibberish… “SSStttt, Screa u such a bad lone.. such a bad lone u r.. We ate bad lones.. u deserve ain… deserve, deserve, deserve! Es, u deserve ain.. Punishment… punishmentpunishmentpunishment.. euuuuu… es, u so bad.. u so bad… badbadbadbadbad.. bad boy.. es bad boy.. u bad boy… EC, EC, EC, where is EC?! Screa needs EC.. but Screa too bad to see EC! Where EC?! Wherewherewherewhere? Where EC?”

With trembling hands, Scream reached into his cockpit. Fumbling around, he pulled out the keychain. His fingers rubbed its faceted surface. His demented optics stared into its crystalline glass depths. “Perty blue perty blue, like EC, perty blue perty blue like friend. Where is friend? Wherewherweherwhere? But Screa too bad to have friend. Badbadbad Badbadbadbad.. Where EC? Where friend? EC know Screa bad. EC no cum to see bad lone. EC ood lone he not ike bad lone…”

He rocked and mumbled, rocked and mumbled. His optics fixated on the cheap keychain. The only thing he owned. The only thing anyone had ever given him. His meta saw that strong blue clone. The memory echo filling him again….

..** “Hey dude, I owe you for helping me pick out Sharon’s gift. Which one do you want?” the blue clone told him.

He looked up meekly. “You’re… You’re gonna buy me one? One of my very own?” he asked in disbelief.

“Sure, which one? They aren’t expensive at all,” TC said with a nod and a smile….****

Tears fell down the insane clone’s face as he pictured the blue clone smiling at him. “Ure which one? Whichonewhichonewhichonewhichone?” Scream muttered to himself. For the next day cycle he muttered that same phrase over and over as he rocked and stared at the blue crystal. Completely unaware that his entire world was changing even as he rocked.. Even as the tacks continued to dig into his sensory bundles….

-------

“I can’t believe she’s gone,” Daniel sobbed as he laid his head on Sam’s shoulder. They stood there in the emergency room. Daniel still in his full Motocross gear, just as so many others were… All of them had raced here, following the ambulance as it had taken their fellow competitor..

“I… I didn’t mean to cut her off… I…I..” a raven haired young woman sobbed.

Daniel went over to her, wiping his own tears away as he vowed to be strong for her. He had done this very thing once, so long ago. Had almost killed his sister because of it! He’d been lucky though, his sister had made it, he had been able to learn from his terrible error. But Sandy, poor Sandy – Angie wouldn’t be coming back. Angie was dead. Her neck broken… Daniel pulled her into his arms, comforting her as they both sobbed.

Tron stood there emotionless as he watched the gathered competitors cry for his master. He felt no emotion other than slight confusion - Confusion that even when he was now ‘freed’ of ownership, his damned programs forced him to again seek ownership. Silent anger filled him even as his programs went through his memory banks and sought his secondary registered owner.

Who was his master now? Finding the name: Daniel Trakersly, listed there. He felt his anger disappear, for the Trakersly clones enjoyed a freedom he’d only longed for! Yes, yes! He was now one of them! Striding up to the sobbing man, he stood there with steely optics, for he would not show his internal happiness. Would not act as immature as that damned Speed did! He was perfection, and eventually Daniel would realize this. “Model 52430-Z-5566-TDI, registered owner Daniel Trakersly,” he stated in a cold, emotionless voice.

Daniel looked up, his eyes full of tears. “My god, she left you to me?” he asked in a hoarse voice.

“Affirmative,” Tron replied as he stood there.

Sam came over, hearing the change of ownership. He patted Daniel’s shoulder. “Hey, I’ll take care of everything ok? You stay with Sandy – ok?” he said in a soft voice.

Daniel choked slightly as he nodded. “Tron, obey Sam,” he ordered, his eyes drifting over to his husband. His strong husband who would make all the arrangements…

----

It had been a week since the funeral and Daniel stared blankly as he waxed his primary motocross bike. Speed rustled around the garage, picking up tools and putting them back where they were supposed to be. “Come on you lazy fucker, start working,” he growled at Tron.

The gray cloned glared at the yellow one. He was not used to taking orders from another clone – he was used to giving them! “I work when Daniel orders me to work,” he snarled back.

Speed glared at him. He didn’t like this clone whatsoever, and if the bastard was going to talk back when he should be working – frag him! Throwing down the wrench he was holding, he stormed up to the gray clone. The two of them staring into each other’s optics, for they were of exactly the same height… “You work when you see shit that needs to be done!” he snarled, “or are you such a fucking loser that you can’t get that idea through your freagin’ meta!”

Tron couldn’t believe the clone dared to talk to him like that! He was a perfect clone, a dominate clone over all clones. That’s what Angie had always said, always taught him. With a growl, he swung at the obnoxious yellow clone.

Now thoroughly pissed, Speed kicked him hard. Causing the gray clone to stumble across the garage and crash into one of the sports cars parked there. Standing up, he made like he was going to attack again, but then suddenly he fell to the ground, unable to move. His entire chassis felt like it’d suddenly gained ten times its weight. He heard Speed snickering hysterically, glancing up; he saw the yellow clone pointing something at him. “Stupid clone, how’s it feel to be ten times heavier – you fucking LOSER!” Speed insulted.

Daniel shook himself out of his stupor at the sounds of their squabbling. Turning his head, he saw that Speed had used his gravito-gun to stop the gray clone in his tracks. “What’s going on here?” he demanded to know.

Speed jutted his chin out. “Well, Mr-I’m-too-fucking-good-to-work attacked my aft, so I taught him not to fuck with a winner!” he snickered.

“Ok, let him up,” Daniel ordered. He’d never heard of a clone attacking another, but he was glad that Speed had enough brains not to use his plasma cannon in the garage. He came up to the yellow clone and slapped him on his shoulder armor. “I’m glad of your choice of weapons to protect yourself in here. I’m very impressed,” he complimented.

Tron stood up, glaring daggers at the audacity of the yellow clone. He worked his dental plates together, silently cussing out Angie for never hacking his secondary processor and activating his weapons systems. If she had, well that freagin’ yellow clone wouldn’t have his slag-eating smile across his face plate for long.

Daniel walked up to Tron. “Why’d you attack him?” he demanded to know.

“He ordered me to do something. Clones don’t order me – I order them,” Tron informed him, without a lick of emotion in his voice.

The blond man studied him curiously, and then he realized that Angie had always left this clone in charge over that red one. Speaking of which, where was the red one? Because of the funeral and everything, no one had even thought of him. Shit! Had they left that clone all alone in her mansion for the last two weeks! “Where’s Scream?” he asked Tron.

Tron shrugged, “probably still in his room.”

Daniel cussed himself out for being so lost in his own grief that he hadn’t thought about that meek red clone. The clones were like children! They shouldn’t be left alone for that long! “Am I listed as the secondary owner for him as well?” he asked the gray clone.

“Affirmative,” Tron replied. His optics gleamed, for if he had Scream here – then he could continue having his fun. Just like when Angie was alive.

-----

“Holy shit!” Sam exclaimed in horror as Tron opened the door.

The red clone was sitting with his thrusters bent underneath him, rocking back and forth. He held a blue glass gemstone key chain in his hands, rubbing it with his fingers as he muttered to himself. His words were gibberish. His optics locked blindly onto the keychain he rubbed. Not even seeming to be aware that his door had been opened.

Sam walked into the dark windowless room. He reached up and touched the burned out light bulb. It was cold to the touch, so obviously the poor clone had been sitting here in the dark for some time now. All there was in the room was a mattress and a crate with cleaning supplies. Nothing here to keep the clone’s intelligent and highly curious meta occupied.

“Geese, he’s a fucking psycho now. Such a freagin’ loser,” Speed quipped as he watched the insane clone.

Scream stopped as he heard the yellow clone’s voice. He looked up, blinking in the bright light. When he saw Tron, he yelped in total terror. Trying desperately to cram his key chain back inside his cockpit before Tron saw it… “M…mymymymymy hystal.. my hystal… EC give e give e give e… mymymymymy!” he stammered as he tried to shrink back against the far wall. His linkages were too tight from his legs being locked into the same curled position for the last two weeks. He couldn’t get his legs to straighten out. So he dragged himself to the wall with his hands. Still muttering mostly nonsensical words in terror…

Sam came towards him. Laying his hands gently on his trembling wings.. “It’s ok Scream.. Everything’s going to be ok…”

Scream whimpered as the man touched him. The man wanted interface. Interface hurt… “Nononononono… lease no… lease no.. can’t innerface.. nonononono.. urt.. urt.. lease no! EC give e… EC give e… Where EC? Wherewherewherewhere?” The insane clone shrieked as he shied away from Sam’s touch.

Sam stood up, staring down at the insane red clone. The handsome face streaked with old tears, the optics so full of confusion. “God, he’s gone mad! Daniel, what should we do?” he said sadly.

Daniel came over and knelt in front of Scream. “Angie is dead Scream. Search for secondary registered owner,” he ordered the insane clone.

Scream heard the command. His fragmented meta searched his memory files. “odel 52430-Z-5566-TDI, egistered owner aniel akersly,” he muttered, his optics wildly darting around him. Then he went back into his gibbering.. His mumbling of ‘where’s EC?’

“I think ‘EC’ is TC,” Daniel said as he continued to kneel there and listened to the insane clone’s rambling.

Sam sighed sadly. He had enjoyed the red clone when he’d been loaned to him. But the clone’s meta was fragmented badly. What had happened to him? They had to know. “Speed stay here and watch him, and do NOT say ANYTHING to him in an insulting manner! Do you understand me,” he said in a threatening tone to the yellow clone.

“Geese, do I have to?” Speed whined as his optics watched the insane clone shuffle aimlessly around on his knee armor.

Daniel stood up. “Yes you do, and quit fucking whining about it!” he barked. Striding up to Tron, he grabbed him roughly by his arm. “And YOU are going to tell us, and show us – EVERYTHING!” he snarled…

-----

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