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Age of the Machine (Market Comodity 3)	By : Scienceteacher Category: Transformers > G1 > Round Robins Views: 6356 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Do not own Transformers/Hasbro, Am not making a dime off of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A.o.M. part 1
- 2-A.o.M. 2
- 3-A.o.M 3
- 4-A.oM.4
- 5-AoM 5
- 6-AoM 6
- 7-AoM 7
- 8-AoM 8
- 9-AoM 8-1/2
- 10-AoM 9
- 11-AoM 10
- 12-AoM 11
- 13-AoM 12
- 14-Once upon a time
- 15-AoM 13
- 16-AoM 14
- 17-AoM 15
- 18-AoM 16
- 19-AoM 17
- 20-Family Ties
- 21-AoM 18
- 22-Family Ties Pt 2
- 23-AoM19
- 24-Family Ties Pt 3
- 25-AoM 20
- 26-Family Ties Pt 4
- 27-AoM 21
- 28-AOM 22
- 15
- 16
- 17
**Age of the Machine part 14**

**By StSE; Universes G1/BW/TFA**

Note: WARNING! another somewhat freaky chapter, but in an entirely different way.

Remember that we don’t have BW clones – because in the G1 timeline they weren’t even in existence! But in BW the Maximals/Predacons went through a warp/wormhole back in time to prehistoric Earth. Dinobot mentioned being a student of military history during that series as well. Then he and many others were off lined during the M/P battles and their sparks and chassis left on early Earth when the Maximals went back to Cybertron.

Meanwhile here in the Clone tale, the great battle that was the 1986 G1 movie has occurred, leaving many great Autobots/Decepticons dead. While others float out to space for Unicron to resurrect.

Ok, enough with what happened/is happening with BW and G1 – on with our little band of survivors…..

-----

“Shit!” Travis muttered as he lost his footing and fell visor-first into the rock-hard ice.

“It is ice not shit that you’ve slipped in.” Spock seemed unphased by the violence of the freakish weather. Hanging onto the rim of one of the trailer’s tires, he reached down with his other hand, grabbed the back of his human’s battle suit and yanked him back up to his feet as if he weighed nothing.

“Uggggghh! I KNOW that Spock!” He almost hit the ground again as he fought to find some type of traction. The Hook clone’s offered arm saved him yet again. “Thanks,” he added.

“Thanks is not necessary. You are my human and one of our commanders – assistance is to be expected.” Though he tried to make himself sound humble, the gleam in the clone’s optics spoke a different emotion entirely. He enjoyed it when his human actually required his assistance, and that didn’t often happen.

Leaning heavily against the strong Constructacon clone and grabbing frantically at the trailer rig for support against the buffeting winds – the ex-Seal rolled his eyes behind the protective gold face mask. Spock was never that good at being humble, but at least he was learning to try. “Let’s get the inspection done ASAP. This is nothing compared to what this storm is firing up for!” Gritting his teeth, he fought for every step forward.

“It’s secure up here,” a femme voice yelled down. In the surreal haze of blowing snow, the two males could barely even make out the Elita clone’s helm poking over the side of the rig as she looked down at them.

“Chained to the loading dock?” Travis yelled up to her.

“Yes, with the 2” tow chain.” The femme clone slid down over the side, landing lightly on her peds. So graceful and well-balanced, that she didn’t even slide on the ice.

“How do you do that?” the man asked with a disbelieving shake of his helmet. Femme clones never ceased to amaze him with their abilities – both in the sack and on the job.

“Third generation stabilizing servos with 2649 model instantaneous adapting linkages centrally connected through her rear battle processing core…..”

“Ok, ok – I get it!” Travis interrupted the Hook clone before he could drone on and on again about all the upgrades he’d personally performed on the femme clone. *Rigs four, six and ten are now secured* he radioed to Charge.

*Report received. Team three get into the safety of the warehouse* Charge’s voice curtly replied.

With Spock and Fuchsia assisting him, the man struggled to make it through the building fury to get to the nearest door. The two clones fought to hold the door open long enough for him to slide in – then they literally ended up on top of him in the darkness. The door crashing shut behind them as the wind took control of it once again.

Feeling along the human, the femme clone found the latches for his helmet and snapped them open, her optics glowing red as she switched to infrared vision in order to see in the pitch black interior of the building. “Speed hasn’t worked his magic yet,” she noted.

“Humph! That ruffian can barely weld a proper seam!” Spock snorted contemptuously. Carefully, he helped Travis shed the helmet without damaging it.

There were some shouts back and forth in the blackness. Then some banging and hammering, and yet more shouts going back and forth. Overhead lights far above flickered once or twice, then shut off for a moment. A few more bangs and shouts back and forth, then the lights fluttered back on. Well, half of them did…

Rising slowly to his booted feet, Travis patted the Hook clone soothingly. “I know you two don’t exactly get along, but at least give him and Jinx some credit.”

Spock snorted, managing somehow to look down his olfactory sensor at the two clones who were perched high above them all. “They don’t deserve to be included in the ranks of my squadron.”

“Give it up,” Fuchsia whispered with a knowing wink at Travis.

Warmth flew through the man at her glance. A warmth he could’ve sworn was love. True, he did let her go off and party with some of the mech clones every now and then. She needed that so that she’d have someone to go to when he eventually died. But other than that, she was the perfect ‘woman’ for an old military man like him. She didn’t yell at him for drinking during his off shift. She wasn’t bothered by his gruffness and lack of couth. And boy did she like the sex! Yes, she was perfect..

“Good job!” Groove’s cheery voice interrupted Travis’s thoughts. Ignoring Spock’s predictable groan at the sight of yet another clone whom he considered beneath him, Travis turned his head and gave the cheerful clone a welcoming smile as he bounded up to them. “Your team finished as well?” It was a rhetorical question since Steel was part of that team, and the hybrid Bluestreak/Prowl clone never failed to complete his assigned mission.

“Yep, got those trailers hooked tighter than Drew’s butt cheeks when Daniel’s around,” the Jazz clone quipped. He seemed to chuckle at his own joke when he noticed Travis roll his eyes.

“How do we survive with clones such as yourself?” Spock smirked. Next time the front line squad clone needed repairs – he might do some work on his vocalizer. A little ‘tweaking’ like say, turning it off for a while.

Not even seeing it as the insult it was meant to be, Groove’s face plate broke into an even wider smile. “Damn well I’d say man!” he quipped. The sound of trailer doors being opened clanged through the cold warehouse. His blue visor gleamed as he noticed the door to the childrens’ trailer opening, a familiar bent form slowly making her way out of it. “Well, gotta go!” And away he dashed.

“Foolish clone going after a human so near her death time,” Spock muttered under his breath. He coughed as both Fuchsia and Travis elbowed him at the same time. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut after that.

------

“Need a hand – my beautiful ma’am?” Groove asked as he suddenly seemed to magically appear next to the door she’d just opened.

Grammy eyed him, her lips curling up in amusement. After a long and uncomfortably frank woman-to-woman conversation with Sharon several weeks ago, she’d finally realized why two particular clones kept hanging around her, and it was both rather unbelievable and hysterical to say the least. But it did make her feel good to be ‘wanted’, even if they were just talking machines that the aliens had built. It had been decades since any one had paid her attention like this…. Decades…. “Thankya cutie,” she said as she accepted his help.

His visor gleamed happily as he pranced like a prize rooster next to the old woman while she took a look around at their most recent ‘temporary home’. Giggles and the sounds of running feet filled the expansive area as the children and their guardian clones flew out of the trailer.

Wrapping her fingers around his warm armor, a sad smile flowed across her dark face. It was good for the orphans to get out of the trailer that protected them. Yet it was so sad that it was merely into a cold, abandoned warehouse. They should be playing outside, under the shining sun. But Grammy doubted she’d live long enough to see that day again. To see the sun shine brightly yellow again.

“Is something wrong Grammy?” Steel strolled towards them, his optics full of concern as he watched the emotions fly over her face. He also noted that she was becoming more comfortable in physical contact with clones. Her knobby fingers gripped tightly around his brother clone’s arm. Something she wouldn’t have done just a couple of months ago.

“Never could hide my feelins’ from ya Steelie,” she said with one of her wry smiles. Turning her head, she glanced at the children and clones who were playing tag. “Feel sad fo them. Ain’t much ofa life.” Her voice broke slightly.

The two clones met optics for a brief moment. The emotional pain was obvious in the woman. “It’ll be ok; Beachcomber assures us that the sky will eventually clear. They will see the sun again,” Steel replied in a gentle voice. Trying to keep his digits from trembling, he dared to reach out and stroke her thin wiry gray hair. He’d seen humans and clones with human mates do this a lot. For some reason it comforted those that were scared or sad. But this would be the first time he’d touched Grammy’s hair for any reason.

Understanding the moment, Groove slid his arm up and around her bent shoulders, pressing her against him. “We’ll all sing songs as we rejoice. We’ll dance and party into the night.”

A tear rolled down the old woman’s face. She had tried to stay so strong, so sure for so long. All for the sake of the children… But deep inside she was torn. Torn between her need for someone to comfort her – and her religious beliefs…. Sharon and the other younger humans – yeah, they could adapt and accept. It wasn’t that easy for Grammy. She was from an older time. A time before alien robots and pleasure clones. A time when love and sex were both reserved for a single man throughout a woman’s life.

“It’s ok Grammy. We’ll make it to see that day,” Steel whispered as he added his arm to Grooves.

“No, it ain’t only that.” Grammy shrugged off their comforting arms. Reaching up with her hands, her sad eyes searched both of their gray faces as she touched their cheeks. “I know what yere both after. Ya need someone younga. I’ll just die an leave ya lonely like ol’ Darren did. Yere both so sweet fo tryin to make an ol’ woman like me self happy tho.”

Steel shook his head as his digits curled around her hand, holding it against his smooth cheek before she could pull away. “We are aware of human life expectancy.”

“…And that doesn’t rock our resolve,” Groove chimed in as if on cue.

For once his slightly nutty brother clone was actually helping, Steel noted silently to himself. Yet, his optics never left Grammy’s dark eyes. “But don’t humans say that love is forever?”

Grammy shook her head. “But I’m human – yere nothin but an alien built machine. I’m not young like ‘em. I can’t….”

Flipping his chest panel open, Steel exposed his glowing spark. “We understand that you’re older, so it’s harder for you to accept us as mates than the younger humans. But we are alive. We have a soul – just like you.”

She’d always heard them talking about sparks and such, but she’d never seen one. The interplay of light and energy twisting about was – beautiful. A beauty like she’d always imagined heaven to be. Would it be blasphemy to be with a living machine? It wasn’t in the bible that’s for sure. “I.. I just don know,” she admitted, her eyes still glued to that beautiful raw energy.

“Is it your religious beliefs that stop you?” Steel could almost feel her confusion, just as he swore he could feel her very soul these last few weeks. He had studied her, studied her so intensely that he could read her like a book now.

“Yeah, ya hit it right there on the head. Such a smart boy Steelie.” Grammy finally averted her eyes from the vision of his soul.

The two clones met optics again, as if they were in silent communication. Groove then turned to her, his face plate breaking out into that familiar grin that meant he’d figured out a way to make everything all right. “Then you’ll just have to save us!”

Warily, Grammy peered up at him, not sure if she’d heard him right. “Whatdja say Groover? I think my ears gone bad.”

“He’s right. You’ll just have to save us then,” Steel agreed. He understood exactly what Groove was hinting at. And if learning and accepting her religion was the way – then by golly he’d do it too!

Realizing that the pair was actually serious about being ‘saved’ in the religious sense – Grammy chuckled and shook her head in wonder. God HAD sent her here for something hadn’t he? Maybe that something was to ensure that the faith survived in these clones – even if the human race did not. “Youngons, it ain’t as simple as that. Ya see, it all started…….”

The two clones followed her along, hanging onto her every word…..

--------

Glock watched them walk by, a smugly satisfied smirk gracing his lips, before he quietly closed the back of the trailer. One of the clones’ standard ‘do not disturb’ signs hung on the back. Everyone knew that sign meant that things would be rocking inside, and if they didn’t want to join in – they’d better not enter. It had made life ‘easier’ for the interface crazed clones. Now they didn’t have to worry about shocking any humans with their actions.

That was very important now. Especially since the recent addition of a couple dozen more humans to the ranks had made privacy a very hard thing to come by. And these new members weren’t the most relaxed of types. They had been rescued from a town they had trudged near. A town where the men had either killed or driven off every single clone from within – due to their fear over the Decepticon virus. And those were among the very clones that Opie had ‘rescued’ through his first act of bravery.

The Megatron clone considered this as he strolled past the empty bunks towards the front of the trailer – and the ‘living room’. It was through Opie that they had found out about the sparked clones’ missing female owners. It was through Jag that Glock got his plan accepted - to send in Shado and the new Mirage clone, Ghost, for recon while the men of the Unit distracted the town’s men through a peace meeting – all the while the Unit stayed miles away and heavily protected. The cloaked team had found the women, beaten into submission and hidden away in a basement by the men of the town.

It was the first human-against-human battle that the clones had ever been a part of. For the former police clones and military clones it was exactly what they were programmed for; but for the other clones it caused an issue. But their sparks helped them override their most primal of programs. The programs that forbid them from intentionally causing harm to a human regardless of that human’s actions towards them. Focused on rescuing the helpless – those programs were burned out of their processors by the very heat of their pulsing sparks.

Yes, at the heart of the entire rescue was Glock. Yet no one recognized that fact. It was because of his great cunning and tactical skill that the Unit was so successful these days. He knew it – even though no one else did. But that’s exactly how he wanted to play the political game. To influence every policy without anyone being the wiser! Yes, that’s what a true power player did!

The soft sound of the door opening behind him intruded upon his contemplation of grandeur. Not even bothering to turn his head to look at the interloper, he easily identified him by the mere sound of his steps. Yet again it was the Soundwave clone named Tune who was following him around like some lost puppy dog. He’d been fixated on Glock for weeks now. Not that Glock truly minded - Tune did have his uses.

This was how it had been in the weeks since Opie told the Unit of his dream visit from Optimus. Many of the sparked Autobot clones had experienced a strange depression, and a few of the Decepticon clones had as well. When pressed for ‘historical’ information, Dinobot had finally been persuaded to tell all he knew about the great battle. The connection between the strange depressions and the real mechs had become a pattern. Those sparked clones whose mechs had been offlined or lost on various planets and under great stress - were the ones who suffered the most. Though many of the others also seemed to be dealing with strange emotions as well… Perhaps it was the reality that they were now on their own?

Yet, the true strangeness had only begun once the depression had lifted from the clones. Now many of them seemed to be attempting to reenact memory echoes that they’d previously never seemed to have. It was a pattern that was easily understood and recognized – yet no ‘cure’ for these urges could be found. The only way to stop them – was for the clones to complete the reenactments. After which, they weren’t bothered again by those particular processor sequences.

And that’s where Glock and Dante found themselves to be constantly pestered and annoyed by their fellow clones. Especially certain Autobot clones! It seemed that four-out-of-five memory echoes involved them in one way or another. So they were dragged into the entire psychotic mess – regardless of if they wanted to be.

Now in the living room portion of the trailer, Glock smiled warmly at his beauty. For the moment they were alone except for Tune. Fortunately the Soundwave clone was more than happy to sit quietly off to the side. He never interfered unless asked, and would just self-interface as he watched whatever action lay before him. Glancing back at the blue clone, Glock understood why his mech had found him so easy to stand.

“Does he always have to show up?” Dante whined. He narrowed his optics at the silent clone who was now getting comfortable on the other set of couches. He’d been getting more and more temperamental as of late. The more he was forced to ‘share’ his clone with the clones suffering from their memory echo psychosis – the more on edge and moody he became.

Sliding up against his seated prize, Glock nipped at his neck. “You should feel pleased that he finds it so interesting to watch you as you get slagged,” he whispered.

The next complaint was driven from his vocal processor when a moan raked his air frame. His wings shivered as knowledgeable digits slid into his intakes, causing his engines to revv. “Mmmmmmm, you do have a point.”

“You said that you had a surprise for me?” the Megatron clone purred as he continued to drive the Seeker wild with his touch. A memory echo flashed through him. Of Starscream screaming in agony from his touch – instead of pleasure… Ruthlessly, Glock forced the echo down. HE was not flawed like Megatron! HE was a true leader – a true politician! And unlike the other clones, he was not so weak as to succumb to such flawed memory echoes!

“Ahhhhhhh, yeeeeessss,” Dante almost groaned as Glock pulled away from him and gave him an expectant look.

“Well?” he held out a hand.

“Let’s sit facing each other on the floor,” Dante said as he slid off the couch.

Cocking his helm, the Megatron clone gave his beauty an amused smirk. The Seeker was being evasive about this surprise – which meant it must be good. Dante was always trying to find ways to please him further. So, without so much as a questioningly raised optic ridge, Glock sat down on the floor facing Dante.

Reaching forward with his arms, the Seeker hooked his hands around Glock’s thighs and dragged him to him, looping his own legs over his. He stopped when they were almost touching codpieces. “Open your forward port,” he whispered with a promising gleam in his red optics. His own port cover slid aside as well.

“This better be goooood,” Glock warned in a low husky voice. He didn’t often let his ports be used. Although it did feel good, he was much more into using his cable. It just seemed more… dominant….

“Ohhhhh, it will be,” Dante promised. His digits slid into the tight port even before the panel was fully slid aside.

Taking Dante’s lips, Glock pressed his own digits within the Seeker. The Starscream clone knew what he liked and what he didn’t like by now, and there was no way he’d try something that would not satisfy Glock. Dante was too afraid that he’d go and find a ‘better’ mate. Yes, Glock owned Dante’s very spark now. Just as he owned the tight wetness that surrounded his digits! When he demanded Dante share himself with others for his amusement – Dante did it. When he demanded Dante self-interface for him – he did it. The Seeker was his…. Fully…

They both added digits within each other. Their actions in complete synch as their glossas danced. The floor beneath them became slick with lubricant.

That’s when Glock felt Dante’s digits replaced by something else. Parting lips, he glanced down. A smirk graced his features when he saw the double-ended dildo. “I do enjoy this, yeeees,” he purred as he spread his legs further, allowing the Seeker better access to slide the impressively girthed toy within him. “But this is no surprise, noooo.”

“Just wait a moment,” Dante smirked. Leaning against the couch behind him, he began to work the other end of the toy inside his own port.

Glock cocked his head and gave the sly Seeker a rather curious look. Suddenly, his optics widened in surprise.

“I told you – you’d looooove it!” A cocky grin covered the Seeker’s handsome face plate as he watched his powerful mate become overwhelmed by shivers. He’d come up with a special formula for the lube he’d coated the toy in. And when it hit the warmth and sensors of a clone’s port – the sensations were spectacular!

Falling back to the floor, Glock moaned and bucked his hips, overcome by the unexpected tingle searing through his port sensory grid. For many minutes he lay there, unconscious of everything around him – all he knew was pleasure, pure and total pleasure. Pure and unbelievable pleasure! “Yeeeeeessssss, yeeeeesssss, mmmmmmmm….” So caught up was he in the moment, he didn’t even realize that he’d activated his cable. It stood straight up like a pole, matching Dante’s own reaction.

Slowly, the intensity lessened until Glock’s processor could actually focus on his surroundings again. He bucked his hips a little, causing the dildo to slide against his overstimulated sensors. “Dante, mmmmmm, that was gooooodddd, yeeeeessss,” he moaned. Reaching down, he slammed his pelvic plating hard against Dante’s even as he circled his taunt cable with his hand.

They lay there for many more minutes, stroking themselves as they enjoyed the slowly fading tingling within their ports. Glock praising Dante for his chemical ingenuity – and the Seeker basking in the praise….

“Megatron,” a meek voice interrupted their mutual enjoyment.

Activating his optics, Glock looked up, his optics boring into the nervous yellow clone who was fidgeting from ped to ped. He could see the tale-tell optic haze that meant a memory echo was playing through the Autobot clone’s meta.

Dante’s optics clicked on at the same time, his face plate furrowing into a frown as he saw the same thing that his mate did. “Leave us you pathetic fool! Go live your fucking memory echo out somewhere else!” he snarled. He was sick of other clones constantly harassing him and Glock. Why should they be forced to play out the damned scenarios?!? Reaching out, he hit the Bumblebee clone hard on his leg armor. “Wake up – and slaggin’ leave us alone!”

His reaction didn’t exactly get him the peace he wanted. Sobbing about not wanting them to hurt Spike, Sunnydo felt to his knee plates next to them. “Pllleeeeaaaassseeee – I… I’ll do what you want!” he sobbed.

Dante lifted his hand to punch the Bumblebee clone in his helm – but was stopped by Glock as the Megatron clone sat up and grabbed his arm. “It’s pointless to hit them – you know those actions will become part of the memory echo, yes.”

“I’m just so fucking sick of THAT!” Dante pouted. He glared at the sobbing clone, who was so caught up in the memory echo that he truly believed he was a captured Bumblebee that was trying to protect his human friend from injury.

“Blame our mechs for this. Obviously they planted all these memory echoes in the other mechs.” Reaching over, Glock stroked the helm of the slightly smaller Bumblebee clone. This action only served to cause the clone to tremble and sob even more fearfully.

“Why’d Megatron and Starscream have to be fucking psychotic sadistic whores anyways? They could’ve been perfect like us!” Dante knew he was stuck playing the memory echo game yet again. Glock seemed to have a weird soft spot for dragging the affected clones through it. Granted, afterwards the clones were so thankful and indebted to them – that they could ask for any future favor and obtain it… But still… It was a freakin’ hassle!

Glock chuckled as he forced Sunnydo to meet his optics. “Because perfection only happens once – and that is us. Yes?” He slid a digit over Sunnydo’s quivering lips. “You are untouched Bumblebee?”

The clone shook with terror, but nodded. Tears streamed down his face plate. He was willing to give himself to the tyrant – so that they wouldn’t hurt Spike.

“So, you give yourself to us – in trade for the pathetic human. How touching.” Glock could sound just like a smug Megatron when he wanted to.

On the other hand, Dante just wanted to get the whole game over with so that he could be left alone again. “Then fucking suck you pathetic Autobot!” he snarled, disgust coloring his every word.

Crawling forward, Sunnydo whimpered as he began to lick both massive shafts. All he saw was Megatron and Starscream. Two tyrants that were going to rape him as his first experience… The youngling was terrified beyond terror. But he couldn’t stop – they had

Spike.

“You can be such a Starscream Dante,” Glock snickered. His digits ran along Sunnydo’s back armor until he reached his aft. “Let me feel your ports Autobot scum.”

“Talk about me – what about you,” Dante snorted in reply. “And you’d better do a much more impressive job than THAT!” he flicked one of Sunnydo’s horns.

Wincing at the sting, the Bumblebee clone redoubled his efforts to please his captors. A defeated whine leaving his lips as he felt the smooth glide of digits penetrating his virgin ports….

“We might as well find some enjoyment in the memory echo harassment,” Glock explained. Licking his digits, he slid them back into Sunnydo’s exposed ports. The clone was so terrified in his memory echo – that he wasn’t releasing lubricant into his ports. “Stand up and position yourself over us Bumblebee,” he ordered.

Whimpering, he obeyed the command, his optics blurry with tears.

“Now, my young Autobot prize. Activate your cable and prove how much you’ve always desired me, yes.” Glock grinned between the yellow legs at his mate.

The memory echo wavered briefly, for this wasn’t exactly how it had gone. Blinking his optic shutters, the Autobot clone’s face plate heated up in embarrassment as he activated his smaller cable. He’d been ordered slightly smaller than the standard six foot clones, standing at a more ‘teenaged height’ of 5’8”. Which seemed more fitting for a mech youngster… Yet, in his memory echo, he viewed the two tyrants as the full-sized mechs. Their cables seemed enormous to his optics.

“I ordered you to pressurize it and show me how much you want us to slag you.” Glock narrowed his optics as he looked up at the terrified clone.

Shaking terribly, Sunnydo forced himself to pressurize his plug and began to stroke it. He yelped as he felt digits invading his ports again. He wasn’t ready! Wasn’t ready to bond – much less with two! But he had to…. He had to….

“Turn around. Let Starscream help you,” Glock purred. He snickered as Dante shot him a look that could kill. “I order you to help him.”

“Frag you,” the Starscream clone mumbled. Yet, as the terrified clone turned around to face him, he did as Glock asked. His hands pressing against Sunnydo’s tailpipes as he swallowed the young clone’s cable to the hilt.

Sunnydo gasped as he felt the Seeker’s expert glossa flick along his length. Then soft wetness probed into his aft port, causing him to arch up his rump. The memory echo waivered again – for the real Megatron and Starscream had never bothered to give the real Bumblebee any pleasure before they had brutally raped him. It settled back over his processor though, blending this new version in with the old. “Please.. ahhhhhhh… noooo… not like…. Ahhhhhh…. Thiiiiiissssss…” he begged. His ports filling with lubricant as the old mech teased him with his glossa. He couldn’t ENJOY this forced bonding… Couldn’t…

“At least put this on,” Dante smirked as he paused for a second to hand Glock a small packet. He flicked the tip of the moaning clone’s cable with his glossa, causing the Bumblebee clone to moan even more denials.

Amused that his mate was still too possessive to let him share sparks with another clone, Glock shot him a wry grin as he opened the packet and slowly unrolled the condom over his cable. He would still enjoy the interfacing, but now he couldn’t link with Sunnydo’s internal spark port.

“You always wanted this, didn’t you Bumblebee? You always wanted to be our toy.” He flicked his glossa in and out of Sunnydo’s aft port, sliding two digits into his forward port.

“Noooo….” Sunnydo sobbed in defeat. “Just…. Mmmmmmm… don’t hurt Spike…” His legs were beginning to shake. Pleasure signals were racing through his nets. Pleasure signals that he’d never wanted to feel at their hands.

“I think he’s ready, yes.” Pulling his digits out of the now dripping ports, Glock nodded for Dante to stop the blow job. “Sit on us while you self interface. Tell us how much you’ve always wanted this.”

Defeated, the young clone trembled as he slowly lowered himself to his knee plates. The tips of those huge shafts now at his entrances… With a sob, he circled his own plug and began to stroke, unable to make himself fully go down.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me Autobot. Tell us how much you want this as you sit.” Glock nipped at his back armor, his digits running along the clone’s chassis.

“I….I…” Sunnydo stammered as he felt Starscream pull down on his hip armor. He braced himself for the sheer agony of youngling mech ports being used way before their time.

“Stroke yourself!” Dante snarled.

Shaking horribly, the Bumblebee clone began to rapidly stroke himself. The pleasure sensations from his self interfacing mixing with the dreaded sensations of anticipated pain in his ports. “I… wa.. want … you…. Nooooooooo…” The Seeker forced him to fully sit down. Impaling him on their immense shafts before he was ready! Sunnydo opened his mouth to scream in agony as they force bonded with him and took his spark for theirs….

… But the fiery agony never came! Instead, pleasure washed through him as his ports were uncomfortably stretched. But they were more than ready to be filled. His optics flew open wide in total disbelief as the memory echo began to fall apart. Shards spraying throughout his memory core to be cleaned up by defrag programs. He pumped himself harder as he eagerly took the Starscream clone’s lips. Now recognizing the Seeker clone for who he really was.

“Ahhh Dante, there is always a benefit to a job well done, yes,” Glock purred. He pumped vigorously into the now eager Bumblebee clone’s incredibly tight port.

Dante might’ve been inclined to agree at that moment, but his mouth was filled with the eager glossa of his Unit brother. He moaned into Sunnydo’s mouth as Glock’s vigorous thrusts caused their shared dildo to move within his port.

“Th… Thankyouuuuu…” Sunnydo moaned as he finally released Dante’s lips and leaned heavily against the Seeker. Biting down on one of his intakes, he gripped the Seeker’s wings as he rode the first wave of ecstasy from the hard thrusts into his aft port. It was like nothing he’d ever imagined it to be. To be filled fully in his for port, pounded in his aft port, while his quivering cable rubbed against Dante’s smooth air frame… He was just about to go over the edge – when Glock stopped his motions. “Noooooooo,” he whined, trying to arch out his rump to encourage the Megatron clone.

Shifting a bit in order to force the dildo further inside his mate, Glock smirked as Dante arched and moaned in response. “Admit that I was right Dante.”

“No…. mmmmmmmm…” His wings shivered as the dildo pressed almost painfully inside his port. Between that and the tight warmth hugging his cable – it was bliss.

“Then we’re done.” Glock made as if he was going to pull away from both of them.

Yelping in disbelief that his first experience might not end up with an overload, Sunnydo tapped Dante on his helm. “Don’t let him do this! Tell him whatever he wants!” His blue optics pleaded with the moody Seeker…

“Ok, ok! You were right!” Dante spat. He looked around the Bumblebee clone at Glock after the Megatron clone began thrusting again. “You’re a real mother fucker – you know that Glock?”

Glock smirked back as he pummeled both their ports without mercy. “And you’ve been hanging around Flame too much. That attitude is going to earn you a spanking.”

“Promises – promises…. Mmmmmmmm…” Dante’s optics went dark as his chassis jerked once more and then went still.

Wrapping his arms around Sunnydo’s waist, Glock began to lift the smaller clone up and down, ramming their cables far up inside him. It didn’t take long for the yellow clone to scream out his name and go silent into overload as well.

----

Red optics opened wide in outrage even as they brightened. “What the f – ouch!” Dante sputtered. He found himself bent over the couch, a cheerful yellow clone sitting on the backs of his intakes so that he couldn’t move.

“And this is for calling me a mother fucker,” Glock smirked. With the flat of his hand, he smacked the Seeker’s rump again as hard as he could.

Dante sputtered in disbelief and tried desperately to get up, only to be soundly stopped by the Bumblebee clone shifting his weight across his wings. “How dare you sit on me!” he bellowed, only to yelp again as his tail pipes were soundly smacked again. This time by Tune….

“Apologize to our assistant,” his emotionless tone dropped by a full octave, “or face another repercussion.”

“What in the hell?!? You expect me to – ouch! Shit! Ouch!” Dante was shaking in outrage. With every smack, both his rump and his anger heated up.

“Punishment not sustained sufficient length for behavior modification.” Again and again, Tune flat handed him across his rump.

Narrowing his optics, Dante glared up at Glock. The clone stood there and watched his two ‘assistants’ as they continued their assault on his afterburners. “Stop this! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!” he demanded.

The Megatron clone just gave him a smug smirk and shrugged. “You were the clone who wished to be promised a proper spanking.”

“By YOU – not OUCH! HIM!” Dante wiggled in vain, still trying to break free from underneath the Bumblebee clone.

“That is a valid point, yes.” Glock stilled Tune’s hand for a moment. “Perhaps he would enjoy this spanking more with the proper port stimulation, yeeeeeesssss.”

Before Dante could demand to know what he meant by that, the Megatron clone leaped into the air and transformed, landing perfectly in the Soundwave clone’s hand. “What the frag are you…. Ahhhhhhh…” Dante arched as his still open aft port was invaded by his mate’s thick barrel. Before he could get into it, he yelped as Tune smacked him again.

“Further penetration requires you to – beg,” Tune ordered. One could almost hear the sound of amusement coloring his monotonous drone.

“Why I never – Ouch!” Dante bit his own lip as the sting from the latest smack radiated through his nets.

“Beg.” Again the clone smacked the Seeker’s rump. This time making sure to hit right next to the stretched port – causing the sting to be further amplified.

The Seeker just about levitated right off the couch on that one. Although he howled, his ports filled with lubricant as he anticipated more pleasure than true pain from this ‘spanking’. His aft port was further stretched as the Soundwave clone forced even more of Glock’s barrel inside him. The strange feel of his alt mode was making his port sensors go absolutely wild! Panting, Dante finally gave in. Spreading his legs – he began to beg profusely in between his indignant howls.

Suddenly, he was filled. Totally and completely filled! Gasping at the sensation, Dante curled his digits into the tough fabric covering of the couch. That’s when he realized that he not only had his mate’s alt mode filling his aft – but Tune had taken the liberty to fill his forward port with his ready cable! “Hey – I didn’t beg for YOUR ca- OUCH!!! OUCH!!!”

“Discussion is unessential. Negotiation is unrectifiable. Prepare for interface commencement.” Tune smacked him again and again with his free hand, while he pumped Glock in-and-out in time with his own thrusts.

The Starscream clone howled with every smack, gasped with every thrust. He bucked against the clones holding him down and pummeling his ports. His intakes gasping for more oxygen as his systems heated up to unbelievable temperatures… He’d never expected a ‘spanking’ like this. No, not like this! The sheer domination of the Megatron and Soundwave clones as they worked him over together – caused his port lubrication systems to go wild, coating the floor beneath them. “Glock…. Mmmmmmm….. Glock…” he screamed as the fury of overload built within him again. He crashed helm first down the cliff of the abyss just as Tune also hit his climax…

“Are all Starscream clones total sluts – or just ours?” TC’s voice asked from the opening rear door. He peered in at the scene, not the least bit phased.

Sunnydo giggled as he hoped off the still Seeker’s wings. Carefully, he pulled Glock out and wiped the lubricant coating off of his barrel with a towel.

“Shut up!” Scream’s voice answered. TC coughed as his fellow trine member elbowed him hard in his side while he pushed past him.

Glock transformed, his peds touching the floor with barely a thud. He leveled calm optics at the approaching group while he patted his still limp spark mate with a gentle hand. “A proper slagging sets the mood for the entire week, yeeees.” He gave the other Starscream clone a warm smile, silently noticing that Scream was still a bit nervous around him. The pair of Seekers were accompanied by Sharon, Electro, KeKe, Opie, Jag and Poet. The latter was wrapped around Scream whimpering and mumbling indecipherable things. His optics were fogged over and wild. To Glock’s well-practiced optics – he was obviously in the thrall of a serious memory echo. “What do we owe the honor of your presence – Air Commander?” he purred – even though he’d pretty much already guessed.

“Well,” Scream hesitated as he walked nearer to Glock; he clenched his digits as if he still desired to bolt away from the gray clone.

“It’s ok Scream,” Sharon and Jag both said at the same time. They moved to either side of him, setting comforting hands on his wings.

The Seeker swallowed hard, his confidence waning just as Poet looked up at him and began to wail again. “It’s Poet.”

“Tell that clone to shut up – my audios are ringing already!” Dante grumbled as he activated. Rolling over, he made sure that it was no accident when he kicked the still limp form of the Soundwave clone still lying at his thrusters. He’d get even – later.

The sound of another Starscream clone grumbling about him sent the little clone into a higher pitched hysterical wail.

“Good job Dante,” TC snorted as he hit the grumpy Seeker on his wing.

“He’s locked into a memory echo, yes.” Glock moved closer to the Seeker and half-sized clone, his outstretched hand touching the back armor of the panicked Poet. “How long?”

“Three days at least. We’ve been keeping him on sedatives until now, trying to give him time to work his way out of it,” Sharon informed him. Her soft eyes had circles under them, showing that she’d spent a lot of time fretting over the little clone.

“I told them that you and Dante,” Opie cut Dante a look as he spoke his name, silently warning the Seeker to get out of his grumpy mood. “Have a knack for getting Autobot clones to work through memory echoes involving you.”

“He seems more reactive to Starscream models, yes?” Calmly, Glock began to pry the small clone from Scream’s frame. The little one was howling something about mean Seekers, bad Seekers.

“Yeah, but he’s reactive to most Decepticon models right now.” Opie moved to hover next to Glock, peering down at his little patient.

“Well I’m NOT doing another freagin’ Autobot clone tonight! Period! I’m sick of them!” With that – Dante pushed by them all and stormed out.

“What was all that about?” TC stared after the retreating red form.

“Uh, my fault guys. I kind’ve pestered them earlier.” Sunnydo’s face plate heated up in embarrassment as they all turned to look at him.

“Yes, he interrupted us,” Glock sighed as if resigned to his fate of slagging panicked clones until they broke through their memory echoes.

“Is this happening a lot lately?” Sharon inquired. She helped him peel the frightened clone off of Scream.

“Affirmative, eight incidents since Sunday,” Tune answered as he reactivated and slowly climbed to his peds.

“He likes to observe,” Glock noted with a casual shrug, “Sometimes I allow him to join us.”

Poet whimpered as they pulled him off of the focus of his memory echo, turning his head – his foggy optics just about bugged out of his facial plate as he believed Megatron had gotten hold of him. He went almost catatonic then, his frame going limp in defeat as he sobbed incoherently.

“So, just how do you work clones through this? I’ve heard several clones discussing how thrilled they were when you ‘freed’ them of the echoes.” Sharon was very, very curious. The programmers and medics had tried everything it seemed. Yet the only ray of hope was that after affected clones paid Glock and Dante a visit – they all seemed happily back to normal. And since this problem was so wide spread since the great Autobot/Decepticon battle on Earth II – they needed to find the solution!

“Modify the experience of the memory echo so that it no longer matches the file, my dear.” Glock gave her his most winning smile as he tightened his grip on the whimpering frightened clone in his arms. His technique, though it was effective, might not be acceptable for a clone such as Poet. “I must know what his chronological age since activation is first, yes.”

They all turned to Electro. He thought long and hard. “Almost seven years I think.”

Sitting down, Glock stroked the small clone’s armor, seemingly oblivious to the fact that every touch of his hand was causing terrified sniffles to erupt. “Sooooo, if we assume that his starting mental age is approximately the same as a nine year old human’s.”

“Then he is approaching sixteen at this stage – why?” Electro’s optics narrowed suspiciously at the Megatron clone.

“Our ‘technique’ requires interface. Which is not acceptable for those under sixteen, yes?”

“You are NOT GOING TO TOUCH HIM!” Scream snarled. He tried to leap at the Megatron clone in order to yank back the little clone, but the strong arms of Opie and Jag stopped him.

Sharon also wasn’t happy about it either. Turning to Opie, she looked deep into his optics. “You were abused far worse than Poet. Tell us the truth Opie – can we trust him to this technique? Is it the only way?”

Holding back the furious fech, Opie met Glock’s optics before turning back to Sharon. He saw that look in the Megatron clone’s optics – he knew for certain that he already had a plan. One that would meet with approval upon completion and increase his standing within the Unit… “I wouldn’t have mentioned it – if I didn’t fully trust this technique.”

The woman fretted a bit with her decision to authorize it. But something HAD to be done! “Ok, but we’re all observing.”

Glock smiled, “My dear, his future bond mates won’t simply be watching – but the rest of you can.”

Once he had KeKe and Electro positioned next to him, and the others seated on the opposite couch – with Scream held securely by the two Autobot ground clones – Glock began………

…….. “No no no no – me not go!” Poet whimpered as Megatron flipped him on his back. Held down in the giant mech’s lap, he cringed as gray digits ran over his armor. It had been bad enough to be the Seekers’ toy. Why had they given him to the tyrant?!? He scratched at the tough armor in desperation.

“You’re mine now Wheelie – don’t you want to play, yeeeeess?” the tyrant glowered down at his helpless chassis, his optics full of lust.

Poet whimpered as he felt digits probe his codpiece, feeling for the latches. “Too big too big – just throw me back in the brig,” he pleaded with tear filled optics.

“Oh, I’m sure you can handle me.” Megatron now had his ports exposed. Dipping his digits in his mouth, he slowly and exaggeratedly pulled them out – now wet. Stroking the youngling’s armor in a strangely soothing way, he gently circled the entrances to his ports. “We just have to take our time, yes?”

Trembling at the strange mix of terror and pleasure, the little one yelped as a digit was slowly inserted into his forward port. For a moment, he tried to wiggle away in panic, but the strange mixture of sensations confused his meta. Megatron only gave pain – why was he being gentle? His confusion stopped his wiggling, which only gave the tyrant more ability to stimulate his nets. For about ten minutes it went like this, the little clone lying limply there, making a strange range of sounds – from sobs, to moans, to mews filled with lonely want. His ports began to fill with lubricant, his legs spreading wider for the tyrant’s digits.

Poet gasped as Megatron bent down and gently nipped his chest plate. Mewing, he arched his hips up, encouraging the wonderfully gentle invasion of his port. Lifting him up, the gray mech held him steady in his arms while he explored his port with his glossa. The thick, soft wetness filling the small clone…. Throwing his helm back, Poet gave into the pleasure. Soft moans emanated from his vocals as his chassis trembled with each flick of that wonderful glossa.

Lowering him down back to his lap, the gray clone slowly inserted a second digit into his port. For a moment, the small clone tensed as he expected pain – only to relax as his port stretched to accommodate Glock’s attentions.

“You like, hmmmm? See, I’m not as bad as you Autobots make me out to be.” Megatron’s face plate broke out into a smile. Something so strangely out-of-character that the memory echo wavered for a moment.

“Megatron bad – make us all sad!” Even as he said that, the little clone felt himself wanting to melt into the tyrant’s arms. He’d never felt this good. The light touches flickered over him while those digits slid in a little further.

“I’m merely misunderstood that’s all. A nice young mech like you could change that for me, yes?” Bending down, Megatron took his lips in a kiss so gentle – Poet could’ve sworn he was a femme.

He moaned into the tyrant’s mouth, the memory echo wavering slightly again before settling back over him. Reaching up, he dared to touch the gray armor. His small digits feeling the smoothness of Megatron’s mighty barrel on his upper arm…. Was the tyrant – really like this? Was it all fiction? All those stories about how bad he was? “Y – you gentle its true – I wanna too,” he moaned as his ports began to ache for more than the gently invasive touch.

“Good.” Megatron lifted him up so that he now straddled his lap. Strangely, he did not activate his plug. He didn’t even make a move to unlatch his own codpiece. Yet his digits stayed within the small mech, pumping slowly, bringing him closer to the edge of the memory echo. “But we both know that you really can’t handle me, no.”

Poet sagged unhappily against the bigger mech, his digits rubbing that smooth armor. He’d never really felt pleasure. He’d only known rape and pain in his ports. Now the very mech who had caused this strange warmth to radiate through him – was telling him that they weren’t compatible. “You claim you need me – but its just deceit!” he accused. But he didn’t dare move. Didn’t dare stop those wonderfully gentle digits within him…

“No little one. I have a friend that’s compatible with you. I’m sure you’ll enjoy – and I will love the show, yes.” Megatron pushed him a little further out on his lap. Now the little clone straddled him with his helm resting gently against his abdominal armor. His legs and rump hung over the tyrant’s knees. The bigger mech still keeping him still by gently thrusting his digit within his slick port…

“I not want someone new – I have you!” Poet began to sob again, his memory echo reforming around him. He expected pain from this ‘friend’. Pain that would be horrible. Yet, he didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to fight and chance Megatron stopping his digit-interfacing. So he lay there in submission. Praying the ‘friend’ would be done with him quickly..

Glock nodded to KeKe then. The feline came around and added his rough glossa to the clone’s pumping digits.

The small clone shivered in his lap, burying his helm against the tyrant’s armor. He didn’t want to see who was going to have a go at him. But it…. But it felt so good…. Against his better judgement, he peeked over his shoulder. He yelped in terror when he saw the ferocious feline lapping at his ports. “No no no – Ravage can’t take my hole!”

Holding him still, Glock nodded to KeKe. “Yes, that’s what I want from you. That’s what you want Poet.” He leaned back a bit as the cat reared up and set his front paws on either side of them.

Poet whimpered in renewed terror as he felt Megatron guide the cat’s shaft to his readied port. Tightening his linkages, the small mech tried to stop the unwanted intrusion. It would hurt… It would be bad…. It would…. He gasped as he realized that the cat’s shaft was now already fully within him. There was a mild stretching sensation – but not the pain he’d expected. Then his audios picked up the softly spoken orders that Megatron was giving Ravage. Orders to stop for a moment in order to let HIM stretch…. Orders to go very slow so as not to hurt him…

The memory echo finally lost its firm hold on his meta then. With the fog clearing from his optics he looked up at the mech whom held him. It was then that he saw him for who he really was…. “Glock the rock,” he whispered.

“Yes, it is I – Glock,” the bigger clone replied. His optics were soft as he held the little clone still during his first true bonding with the feline.

The resulting Eve spark wave rolled over them all, the little clone snuggled against his armor as he gave himself to KeKe. His little face plate bore the expression of an angel finally at peace within himself.

After KeKe had slid limply to the floor, Glock lifted Poet’s unconscious frame and set him gently in Electro’s arms. Their optics locked for a moment, but the message was clear. Glock now had the wary clone’s complete and total trust.

“Let’s take them back to their bunk,” Sharon whispered. She almost hated to say anything. What she had witnessed had been so beautiful, so wonderful – that words would simply ruin it.

With a secret wink to Glock, Opie bent down, picked up the limp feline and threw him over his broad shoulder. He knew his partner had made a hell of an impression tonight, just what he’d figured he’d do.

The group filed out in almost total silence. Each member contemplating what they had been witness of. The last one hesitated, his optics almost bashful as he meekly met Glock’s orbs. “I’m… I’m sorry I doubted you,” Scream admitted with drooping wings.

Standing up, the Megatron clone stood face-to-face with the Seeker. Reaching out, he patted him on his intake. “You can pay me back by helping Dante accept that we must do this, yes.”

His optics brightened, and the Seeker straightened up. Now he had a way to pay back the clone for his doubts! “He’s very possessive of you.”

Glock nodded in agreement.

With a relieved smile, Scream turned and strode towards the door, but he was stopped by the clone’s words. “Just as Charge has become possessive of you Scream.”

The red Seeker tensed, “I know.” He turned his helm slightly in order to hear Glock’s reply.

“Be careful Scream, for neither you nor Opie is prepared to take him on yet. Wait for the opportunity to present itself. Do not tear this Unit’s cohesion apart, no.”

“You know?” Scream slowly turned to fully face the Megatron clone.

“I am his partner – yes?” his words were simple, yet his optics spoke volumes. They warned Scream not to pursue Opie too openly. Warned him not to make waves for the Unit at this time… “Do you understand?”

The Seeker merely nodded. Without another word – he left out in search of Dante. First, he had to pay back the Megatron clone for his doubts – then he’d have time to think about Opie…..

-----

Note: Like I said – another freaky chapter. I hope I managed to wrap a few more loose ends up with it. ….. And now until the next snowstorm.... Please review….
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