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Five Phases of Torture	By : Scienceteacher Category: Transformers > G1 > Slash - M/M Views: 3729 -:- 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
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Intimate Torture

Moaning, Ultra Magnus slowly rebooted, every sensory net in his frame still reeling in agony from those bolts of energy. He turned over, unable to rise. Once again, the bare bulkheads of his prison stared back at him. Weakly, he crawled over to a wall and propped himself up against it. He didn’t understand the game that the Quintessons were playing, but he knew it had to be a game, and he had to win it somehow.

Scanning around the bare cell, his optics lit on the two containers that lay on the floor on the other side. Cocking his head in interest, he focused on them. He could just barely make out the contents of each. One had the oily sheen of hydraulic fluid, and the other had the glow of energon. “Hmmm, bastards don’t what me to off line yet,” he mumbled. But then he considered just how in the heck he’d get over there to consume the beverages. Half his hydraulic fluid was gone so he could barely build enough pressure to slither over to this wall, and now he had to cross the entire cell.

“Well, guess I’d better start, this could take a while,” he sighed in resignation. He needed to have his systems fully charged just in case the opportunity to escape presented itself. The question as to exactly WHY the fraggers wanted him fully charged as well, would have to be answered at a later time. Pushing himself off the wall, he collapsed onto his side. Slowly, he got himself rolled onto his belly armor. He lay there patting for a few astrominutes, trying to build enough hydraulic pressure to begin the trek across the room. Perhaps if he just shifted all his remaining fluid to his upper chassis and arms, he could build enough pressure up to enable him to drag the rest of his chassis?

The slight whine of pumps running filled the cell as Ultra Magnus commanded his systems to redirect his remaining hydraulic fluid to his upper body. Pressure slowly built to operating level. With a determined grimace, he began to slowly drag himself across the cold floor. His abdominal armor dragging noisily across the metal beneath him, a sound reminiscent of chalk as it screeched against a chalkboard. He winced as his sensitive audio receptors screamed in protest at the nauseating racket he was making.

It took him a while, and several breaks to rebuild his waning hydraulic pressure, but he finally made it to his objective. Propping himself up on one arm, he slowly tipped the hydraulic fluid so he could drink it. The slick oil went down, burning slightly as it did so. His systems automatically redirected its flow away from his power core and into his reserve system. He continued to drink, his head getting closer and closer to the floor as he tipped it further. A small puddle formed underneath his head, as the awkward position that he was forced to drink in, caused some of the hydrocarbon brew to drip from the edge of his lips and down his chin.

Finally done, Ultra Magnus let himself collapse on the floor - Lying still as his systems pulled the fresh hydraulic fluid out of his reserve tank and into his depleted systems. “Well, its not exactly ‘fresh’ that’s for sure,” he dryly noted. The aftertaste was horrid. A sure sign that it was recycled hydraulic fluid, and not well filtered either. But beggars couldn’t be choosers, he’d just have to get First Aid to flush his systems and replace his filters when he got back.

Slowly his systems repressurized to functional levels. Sitting up, Ultra Magnus crossed his legs and reached for the ration of energon. He held the cup in his hands as he swirled it a bit. “Wonder if this is as bad as that was,” he mused as he studied the glowing concoction with wary optics. But once again, he had no other option, so with a grimace, he lifted in to his lips and drank it down as fast as he could.

He dropped the cup as he finished. Coughing in repulsion to the terrible taste, he wiped his chin on his forearm. “Primus.. Ak.. Ak.. Ak.. And I just thought the .. Ak.. Ak..Ak… pain was the torture!” he gasped in between harsh coughs. His insides felt like they were being burned from the inside as the low-grade hit his primary power core and began to flood through his systems. Finally, he quit coughing. “Geese is that crap going to give me some serious surges,” he mumbled.

Now that he was fully pressurized and fully charged, Ultra Magnus inspected his damage. He had one blown servo in his hip joint, but that joint depended on four, so the other three could more than handle the load until he escaped. Other than that, besides his deactivated weapons systems – he was fully functional. He began to contemplate on if he could somehow get his shoulder mounts back online. Then he felt the dreaded electrical current, knowing that they were coming for him – even as he shutdown again.

---

Mumbling threats under his breath, Cyclonus forced himself to roll over. In his CPU he envisioned the wonderful thought of how each one of those five faces would squish and squirm beneath his ripping hands. This goal gave him some much needed strength, as he used the wall to slowly stagger to his feet, still swooning in pain and weakness. Knowing the Quintessons were most likely monitoring his cell, he put as much strength in his voice that he could muster. “When I get out of here I’m going to rip each of your tentacles off and….” he growled.

Falling to his knee, Cyclonus berated himself for his weakness. He was getting very low on charge, which didn’t bode well for his future plans of destruction. Snarling in anger, he scanned around the cell. That’s when his optics fell on the ration of energon sitting on the floor in front of the cell door. Not wasting time wondering why his captors would want him fully charged, he tried to lunge across the cell. This didn’t quite work in his depleted state, and he ended up having to crawl on all fours across the cell. “Like freagin’ Ravage,” he grumbled.

Getting to the ration, he shifted and sat down heavily on the floor, his back armor against the cold bulkhead. Grabbing the ration in shaky hands, he just barely got it to his mouth. Lifting his head, he tipped the cup. Drips of spilled energon flowed down his face, as his shaky hands couldn’t hold the cup steady. Not caring, the mech finished drinking the last of it. “That’s horrible!” he growled as he threw the empty cup across the room. “I’ve never been forced to drink such a low grade!” he snarled as he scanned the room in anger. “I will kill you for this humiliation!” he yelled.

He staggered to his feet as the energon slowly coursed through his depleted systems. His strength beginning to return.. Running an internal systems check, he noted that besides his weapons systems, all other systems were back to full power. He smirked evilly as he considered the future destruction he would heap upon his captors. He just needed an opportunity, and he would make full use of it.

A thought crossed his meta. His Autobot counterpart was also a prisoner! And although it grated upon his Decepticon urge to smash the mech, he would consider the idea of temporarily cooperating with Ultra Magnus for both of their benefit. Yes, of all the Autobots to be stuck here with, Magnus was the best one. He was one of the only ones that Cyclonus considered a possible equal. He was a great warrior, destined to die in battle just as Cyclonus was. Yes, Magnus would make an ‘acceptable’ partner – at least until they destroyed these slaggers. Now, he just had to figure out how to contact the Autobot. They had to make plans. Discuss strategy…

His thoughts of revenge were cut off in mid-sentence as the electric current ripped through him, causing him to slide to the floor in unconsciousness.

---

Slowly, Ultra Magnus rebooted again, the agony of his sensory net a little more bearable. The Autobot found that his hands were chained behind his back, his legs shackled. His blue optics brightened as he fully reactivated and looked around. Through the legs of three dozen Sharkicons, he spotted Cyclonus lying across the large room, and from the looks of it; the Decepticon had been going through the same things he’d gone through. The purple mech locked his red optics onto his counterpart’s, a silent understanding that they both needed to escape passed between them. A silent promise that they would work together if need be. Strangely, Ultra Magnus felt somehow surer that he could possibly escape now. For if there was one con that he grudgingly respected – it was Cyclonus. Then the Sharkicons shuffled, and they could no longer see each other.

A Quintesson came in. Looking haughtily at both mechs, he said: “When you beg for mercy, it shall stop.” he snickered as he heard both mechs grunt insults. This would indeed be a very pleasurable torture to witness on the view screens. As he left the room to observe the ‘test’ on his monitors, he ordered the Sharkicons to “Proceed.”

Ultra Magnus was roughly forced to his feet by five Sharkicons, unable to fight back; he was dragged to a table and bent over it. Struggling as best he could, he tried to keep his legs together. The Sharkicons began to pummel him with their fists until his curses became mere grunts. Energon dripped beneath him from his damage; Ultra Magnus noted this as he swooned in pain. Spitting out some energon that was filling his mouth from his busted lip, he rubbed his face against the table’s hard surface, trying to get the energon off of his optics.

As they cleared, he found his face a mere handspan from Cyclonus’s. The Decepticon was similarly as beaten up as he was, and the Sharkicons were keeping him bent over the other side of the table. “It would seem that we are in a predicament,” Cyclonus whispered hoarsely as he too, spit out some energon.

Magnus nodded, then a sense of dread filled him as he felt fingers slide under his aft armor, searching for the latches. His hydraulic pressure shot up as he tensed, his optics widening in disbelief at what he thought the Sharkicons were getting ready to do. But he was helpless to stop them. With his arms bound behind his back and five Sharkicons holding him still, he could do nothing but bear it.

Cyclonus’s red optics narrowed as he tensed as well. “I will destroy them for this atrocity!” he snarled as he tried to struggle. He screamed in agony as he got a fist rammed into his now naked aft for his effort. Writhing in their grasp, he cursed as he screamed. His entire chassis arched in response to their fists.

Tensing, Magnus felt fingers invading his own circuits. Felt someone slide a few fingers in his receiving unit, and then forcing their entire hand in. His internal sensors screamed as he was stretched past his normal width. Friction building up since the mech behind him hadn’t bothered to even lubricate his hand before entering him. Shaking his head in denial, he felt someone else’s hand dive into his bonding cable unit. Grabbing his limp bonding cable roughly and forcing him to unroll it, once they had it out, they refused to let him retract it.. Protect it within him. Then a wave of absolute agony washed over him as someone smashed their fist against his sensitive cable. Smashed it against the solid metal side of the table..

Struggling in vain, he screamed as they smashed his cables over-and-over again. Tears of pain flowed freely from his optics as he slammed his helm against the unforgiving metal surface. His systems overheating, his hydraulics weakening under the strain…. Faintly, he saw them doing the same to Cyclonus. Their screams blended together in a sick melody. Reverberating against the walls.. Mixed with the animalistic cackles of the Sharkicons that swarmed over them…

“No… No..” Ultra Magnus whispered hoarsely. They had stopped their torture of his bonding cables, now he felt one positioning himself behind him. He heard the familiar sound of a codpiece unlatching. The press of a pressurized cable against his receiver entrance… The sickening pain of his receiver unit being stretched as he was invaded by the unwanted cable… No lubricant used. The horrible sensation of raw rubber sliding inside him…

“They will die.. They will die..” Cyclonus snarled weakly. He locked optics with Ultra Magnus, even as Magnus watched the Sharkicon behind the mech’s aft, grab his hips and thrust forward. The powerful con trembled as the pain shot through his systems. His abused sensors screaming in anguish…

The Sharkicons pounded them from behind as their comrades slipped their fingertips under their armored backs and roughly pulled at wires. The two powerful warriors screamed and cursed at them, struggling in vain. Their optics locked with each other, silently giving the other moral support to endure the humiliation.

Ultra Magnus tensed as the Sharkicon behind him stopped hammering his receiver unit. Thrusting his bonding cables deep within the Autobot, he connected their ports. “No –“ Ultra Maguns’s scream of protest was cut off as the Sharkicon forced his fiery spark within him. Flaming through his systems, attacking his very spark! Gasping in pain, Ultra Magnus strove to keep his firewall up, keep it intact from the invasion. But as one Sharkicon tired, another one took his place. And as the sixth Sharkicon drove his bonding cable deep inside his tortured receiving unit, Ultra Magnus began to weaken.

The fresh Sharkicons pounded the two mechs mercilessly, their comrades shrieking in glee at the oily mix of lubricant, hydraulic fluid and energon that was now dripping down the insides of their legs. The two mechs were now barely able to even gasp as they lay weakly on top of the table, held in place by the hands of the guards so that their comrades could continue the assault, the humiliation.

Cyclonus felt his firewalls shatter as the seventh Sharkicon stopped his thrusting and connected. Weakly his entire chassis vibrated as the alien spark infiltrated his systems fully. Taking him from the inside… He barely even noticed that the guards began cheering now that they had broken through the two Cybertronian’s fire walls. More of them now lining up to take their turn.. To satiate themselves within him and Ultra Magnus!

Cyclonus tried to drown the pain, with hate. He held onto his hate; trying to let the agony blend into it, make it grow. But as guard after guard thrust its spark into him, his resolve began to weaken, the fight in him beginning to wear thin. The sharp teeth digging into his sensitive wings, causing ripples of agony as they shredded those wings when he struggled. It began to overwhelm him, his entire being now seemingly made entirely of burning agony, no conscious thoughts able to break through. And yet, they kept coming, invading spark after invading spark, untiring, endless, and breaking the very core of him down. And finally, with an agonized scream, his firewall fell, giving total access to the very center of his being. The heartless Sharkicons sending their burning sparks through him.

For several more astrohours the assaults continued. The two mechs now barely conscious, barely even functioning… Their internal receiving units beginning to shred, to tear.. But still neither one begged for mercy. Finally, blessedly, they both went limp.

---

“It seems that even with intimate torture, they still keep their resistance.”

“Yes, perhaps it is time to take a less direct route.”

“Let us begin the third test.”

“Proceed”

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Five Phases of Torture