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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.

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note: I was a little ‘lost’ in trying to figure out how to piece this chapter in smoothly with the rewrite. Then I read http://anime.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=600045554 , I’ve borrowed ONE little idea from it. That little mechanical device called an ‘activator’. Yes, it ‘fit’ so well! (You’ll see the humor as you read on). But I give credit where it’s due. And the ‘activator’ is not my original idea, its DeeDeday’s.

Chapter 2

Silent Rapture…

Cyclonus

Cyclonus groaned in complete agony as he rebooted. Every Decepticon was well used to pain, but this had pushed him far beyond anything he’d dealt with before. The sheer sadism of these Quintessons appalled him. Shifting his legs, he grimaced as a sharp round of renewed agony flew through his internal sensors in his pelvic region. Furrowing his optic ridges, he ran an internal scan of his systems. Reports came back. Reports that he didn’t like in the least! His internal structures had sustained significant damage from the vicious sodomization he had endured. Indeed, he was still leaking fluids from the torn walls of his receiver unit.

Biting his lip to stop himself from groaning, Cyclonus slowly returned himself into the position that he’d rebooted in. Realizing that his arms were still shackled behind him, he slowly scanned the room with his optics. The bare walls of his prison met his stare. “Somehow, I will get free, I will kill you all,” he whispered in a hoarse voice. His vocal processors not recovered from the strain of his sustained screams. But as he laid there in silent contemplation, he had to admit that that possibility was looking less and less probable. His internal structures were so damaged, that even with his arms free – he’d be helpless. Totally and completely helpless! A situation he truly despised with his entire being.

Then his audios picked up a low sound, a slight moan from another mech slowly rebooting. He tried to turn his head, but he was lying on his side facing the opposite way as the sound he was picking up. He lay there still for a moment as he decided on his course of action. Should he just lie there and listen to the rebooting mech and pray that it wasn’t a Sharkicon who’d been left by his comrades? Then the bastard could just come up behind him and sodomize him again! Cyclonus just couldn’t lie there and wonder. He had to KNOW who it was he heard behind him! Grinding his jaws together, he rolled himself over, every internal sensor screaming in protest, and spied Ultra Magnus, who was lying in a crumpled heap by the wall.

Cyclonus watched as the Autobot’s blue optics slowly activated. “Ultra Magnus,” he said - his own voice hoarse and barely audible. The Autobot groaned, his voice so ragged that it came out as just a rush of exhaled air, as he turned his head towards his voice, his optics slowly focused on him. The big mech looked over at him, the same pain and weariness showing in his optics. “Are you functional?” Cyclonus asked the Autobot, getting a weak nod in reply.

Slowly, painfully, the Autobot made his way over to Cyclonus. Crawling on his hands and knees, since they had chained his arms in front of him; the bot lay down heavily next to him. Their frames touching, the two warriors rested in weary silence, figuring that the guards would soon come again.

Several astrohours passed, and no one came. Cyclonus began to feel a little stronger as his repair systems worked. But the damage within him was just too much. He’d have to get to a repair bot if he even wanted to be able to stand up straight. He hoped that the Autobot was less damaged, for he was his only hope. Grimacing in disgust, Cyclonus couldn’t believe that he was now forced to beg an Autobot to not only escape – but to carry his own air frame out of this situation.

Looking at the mech next to him, he considered who the Autobot was. Yes, he too had saved Ultra Magnus from destruction once. From a fate that a warrior should not meet – so that they could one day off line each other in glory on a battlefield! Yes, this mech owed him. And this mech had the same code of honor that he did – so he would repay him. As he silently studied the mech, he thought the Autobot was in recharge, but then those brilliant blue optics met his. “This is no way for a warrior to die,” the con said hoarsely, noting that his counterpart merely nodded in agreement.

Then he felt the slightest of touches, as the Autobot slowly ran his chained hands up between them, apparently trying to gauge the amount of damage that he had sustained. Assuming that Ultra Magnus was merely seeing how physically capable he was for an escape attempt, Cyclonus ignored the touch. For the Autobot was as pragmatic as he himself was.

Ultra Magnus winced as he sat up. Kneeling, he closely examined Cyclonus’s chassis, moving down, gauging every dent.. Every rip.. Every drip of energon… Making his way down to Cyclonus’s naked bonding net, he glanced up at the con, nodding for him to spread his clenched legs. So that he could see the extent of the damage.

“It’s pointless, I’ve sustained heavy internal damage,” Cyclonus sighed with resignation as he spread his legs. “You’ll have to break out of here on your own, come back for me later,” he gasped as Ultra Magnus’s fingers touched his raw circuits.

The Autobot shifted positions, leaning over him, probing him as gently as he could. This elicited some groans and curses from the purple mech. “I informed you of my damage, you are wasting valuable time with this exam!” he whispered hoarsely.

Ultra Magnus withdrew his fingers from Cyclonus’s tortured receiving unit. They were coated in a mix of lubricant, energon and hydraulic fluid. A sure sign that Cyclonus was torn badly inside.. Holding his coated fingers to his olfactory sensor, Magnus sniffed the odiferous blend. Seeming to gauge just how bad it was by the percentages of each substance in it. Then he glanced down at the weak mech and shook his head, holding a finger up to signal that he had an idea.

Cyclonus watched as Ultra Magnus opened a hidden compartment in his right lower leg. Carefully he extracted a cylindrical tool. Cyclonus’s optics widened, for every mech knew what that item was! And why Ultra Magnus kept one on him – he had no clue. For with the exception of medics – only pathetic mechs who didn’t have anyone to overload or bond with, kept one. And he’d never considered Magnus as that type of mech. “Why does one of your rank have that?” he demanded to know. Narrowing his optics, he studied the blue mech, his opinion of him greatly reduced now.

Ultra Magnus smiled with a gleam in his optics. “For mechs like you,” he whispered. His voice so hoarse that it didn’t really even sound like him.

“Spare me the insults. You are a great warrior. A leader! Are you truly so pathetic that you have to self-interface?” Cyclonus snorted.

The big mech’s shoulders rocked with inaudible laughter. “We do not have the inhibitions that Decepticons have,” he replied in his half-operational voice, “But you know what medics use these for, so relax while I –“

Weakly, Cyclonus tried to close his legs. “You will do no such thing!” he growled.

Not the least bit worried about his threats, Ultra Magnus leaned over him and roughly forced his legs apart, shifting his bulk so that he trapped the weak mech’s legs beneath him. “Stay still, it’ll go easier,” he ordered. His hoarse voice cut in-and-out as if his vocal processor was trying to shut down.

“I will kill you over this!” Cyclonus snarled as he weakly struggled.

Ultra Magnus shrugged dismissively, “I’ve heard that one before,” he chuckled - Though his vocal processor shut down before he could actually vocalize the chuckle, so his shoulder mounts just shook with his silent laughter.

Cyclonus glared at him as he watched him carefully coat the activator with Cyclonus’s own dripping fluids. His hydraulic pressure went up slightly as he felt the mech position the device at the entrance to his receiver unit and began to work it in. As it stretched the torn walls just slightly, a groan managed to escape his lips. It was like a blade of fire going inside him. But then it was in, and Magnus latched it in position. Tapping it, he activated its energy field.

Trembling as the strong field spread through him, Cyclonus rocked his head back-and-forth. “The settings… Too high.. Drop it..” he gasped. He felt the mech simply pat him as he shifted positions. “Frag you! I said lower the setting!” Cyclonus groaned. It was a strange mixture of pleasure, numbness and pain that filled his abdomen. His tortured sensors reacting to the activator as it matched his internal frequencies.

Ultra Magnus shook his head as he laid down next to the shivering mech. Looping his chained hands behind Cyclonus’s helm, he worked them down and over Cyclonus’s shoulders. This forced them tightly against each other, as he caused the weak mech to turn back on his side and face him. Putting his leg over Cyclonus’s he pinned the mech tight to him. The electric field that the activator was generating, was now affecting his torn bonding circuits as well.

The numbness began to overcome the other two sensations, and a light bulb seemed to turn on in Cyclonus’s meta. His face was a mere fingerspan from Magnus’s as his optics widened in shock over his realization. “You did that so that both of us could be – repaired,” he whispered. The tone of his voice showed his renewed respect for the mech.

Ultra Magnus smiled and nodded his vocalizer completely off line now. He mouthed the words ‘defrag’ to Cyclonus.

“You will keep watch as I defrag?” Cyclonus asked, studying him intently. He was beginning to get acclimated to the sensations rippling through his aft as the activator performed its ‘medical’ duty, and he could honestly say that he finally understood why the pathetic mechs enjoyed it. It was a sickeningly – pleasurable – sensation.

The blue mech nodded, tightening his frame against Cyclonus’s. He watched as the purple mech’s optics went dark, the frame against him going limp. With an evil grin, he lay there as he received the next round of instructions.

----

Cyclonus felt the sensation of a mech grinding against him. He shivered as teeth nibbled lightly on one of his sensitive horns. This coupled with the intensity of the stimulation of his internal sensors by the activator’s strong energy field, caused him to tremble even before his meta fully rebooted. His battle processor automatically completing system-wide readiness checks, the data coming back from his sensors indicating all his internal damage had been repaired.

His meta swooned in confusion as he rebooted and activated his optics. The sensations that flowed through him were most unsettling considering the situation. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded as his optics focused and he realized that it was Ultra Magnus who was grinding their pelvic armor together. That it was the Autobot who was now sucking on the tip of one of his sensitive horns. He struggled vainly to get away from the big Autobot, not caring for this strange behavior in the least. But he couldn’t. His arms were still chained behind his back, and Magnus had crammed him up against the wall.

In answer, Ultra Magnus merely smiled, and shifted so that he had Cyclonus even more tightly pinned between him and the wall. The purple mech struggled in vain, his hands still chained behind his back and his legs locked down by Magnus’s. As he struggled, the Autobot’s fingers ran along his exposed sensory nets, probing, teasing, and generating gyrating waves of pleasure stimuli; which when coupled with the intense energy field within his aft, was working rapidly to stomp out his resistance.

“This is… intolerable!.. I demand.. that you.. stop!” Cyclonus gasped, even as he began to moan. The way his sensors were reacting to the unsolicited attentions.. The seductive press of the powerful chassis against him… It drew him in. Tried to make his meta forget where he was. The musty masculine smell of Magnus’s driving his olfactory sensors wild. And then he felt his arms shift down along his waist, to his hips. Fingers touching the activator.. Unlatching its securing anchors.. Begin to move it in-and-out just slightly.

His internal sensors went nuts. A white wash of erotic signals flowed like a tsunami over his meta. Erasing any thoughts of continued resistance... Soon, he trembled against the big blue mech, gasping for more. Desperate for a brief respite to escape the agony that was now his world, even at the hands of a hated Autobot. The big mech took his lips forcefully, his glossa diving in and commanding his mouth as his fingers caused massive bolts of energy to shoot through Cyclonus. Finally giving himself fully into the intense pleasure, the purple mech overloaded and shut down.

As he went limp and his optics darkened, the hologram lifted off of the Sharkicon guard, who stood up and regarded the Decepticon without emotion. Bending down, he forcefully spread the con’s legs, grabbed the end of the activator and ripped it out of the mech. Walking to the door, he rapped a code on it. It slid open and three other guards came in. They grabbed the unconscious mech and dragged him out.

Ultra Magnus

“Sloggers, this just isn’t my day,” he groaned as he fully rebooted. Struggling to sit up, he groaned as agonizing waves of sensory data flooded his meta. Gasping, he slumped against the wall as he ran an internal systems check. “Frag the bastards, if they’d just used some slaggin’ lube,” he grumbled as the data came back and showed how heavy his internal damage truly was. Sighing in resignation, he considered his current situation: his arms were still chained behind him. “Like I even have the strength to try an escape right now,” he chuckled morbidly to himself. This situation was looking more and more inescapable by the hour and he really didn’t know how much longer he could last. That last Quintesson trick, letting the Sharkicons rape him en mass, was probably the worse thing he’d ever had to deal with – but he’d deal with it, that’s just how the cards were given to you.

Hearing a groan, he looked over at the corner next to him. “Cyclonus?” he asked, seeing the crumpled purple fuselage of the Decepticon. Energon pooled beneath the con, his own bonding nets shredded as well. Ultra Magnus couldn’t help but feel some pity for the mech. No mech – not him, not Cyclonus – deserved what was being done to them! He shifted slightly as he scanned the con’s damage from afar. The con merely groaned weakly and struggled to turn over. “We’re in quite the predicament,” the Autobot stated, noting the slight nod in reply.

Weakly, Cyclonus crawled over to him, for they had chained the con’s hands in front of him. He settled himself down next to Ultra Magnus, the two seasoned warriors sat there, looking into each other’s weary optics, both understanding the scope of what they faced together. Cyclonus made a show of scanning the cell, making it clear to the Autobot that he felt they were being listened in on. Ultra Magnus nodded his agreement, knowing the Decepticon was as pragmatic as he was.

Silently, the con pointed at a few of the more damaged exposed circuits on his chassis, those crimson optics telling the blue mech that he’d like to try and repair some of them. Ultra Magnus nodded his consent, knowing they’d have to try and help each other in order to get out of this hell. As he felt the purple mech’s fingers probe into his circuitry, Ultra Magnus again thought about their options. If Cyclonus could get him repaired enough, maybe the two of them could somehow overwhelm the guards and make an escape. Looking at the preoccupied purple con, he assumed that his thoughts were running along the same path. But then blackness filled him. He was really too damaged for field repairs to get him on his feet. Cyclonus was just wasting his efforts.

Cyclonus moved down his chassis, nodding for him to spread his legs further - To let him examine the extent of the internal damage. “It’s pointless Cyclonus - internal scans show that it’s extensive. I’ll need a repair bot to fix it,” Ultra Magnus said with resignation in his tone. As damaged as he was, there would be no way he could make an escape attempt. But the purple mech again motioned for him to spread his legs, allow him access. Grunting in pain, Ultra Magnus did as asked. “Frag, you just don’t trust what anyone tells you – do you?” he said with sarcasm in his tone.

The purple mech just shrugged, obviously not highly concerned about Ultra Magnus’s opinion. He bent down to examine the damage more closely, his fingers sinking into the wiring. Magnus gasped as waves of pain shot through him. “Damn it! I told you that I’m too damaged!” he groaned.

Pulling his fingers out, Cyclonus cocked his head with a thoughtful look in his optics. Then he tapped his lower leg, causing a panel to slide open. Fiddling inside the hidden compartment for a second, he fished out a cylindrical device. Ultra Magnus’s optics went wide in disbelief by what the con held in his hands. Every mech knew what that particular devise was widely used for, and it wasn’t for ‘medical’ reasons either! “What in Primus’s name are you doing carrying THAT around?!?” he asked in disbelief. Cyclonus was definitely NOT the type of mech that he’d ever suspect of using one of those. Swindle, Drag strip, even Starscream – yes. But Cyclonus – never!

“We.. are not.. as inhibited.. as you.. it would.. seem,” Cyclonus said. His voice cut in and out. The sound so ragged that it didn’t even sound like him at all. Obviously, his vocalizer had suffered some damage.

Ultra Magnus tried to shut his legs, as he looked with wide optics at the activator. Ratchet had shoved one of those devices up his tailpipes a long time ago. It had been a truly horrible and degrading experience for sure. And regardless of his current internal damage, there was no way he was willingly going to let that fraggin’ thing get shoved into him. “Well, you can put it back. I’d rather off-line by having my fluids all leak out my tail pipes – then suffer one of those again,” he stated flatly.

Roughly, Cyclonus forced his legs apart and grabbing his knee armor, he slid him away from the wall a bit. This made for easier access to the damaged region. Throwing his own legs over Magnus’s, he refused to let him escape the vulnerable position. “I.. do not care.. about your.. personal preferences.. you must be .. repaired,” he croaked. He locked optics with the struggling and frowning Autobot. “Stay.. still..” he ordered.

Magnus tried to struggle as he watched the mech calmly swipe some his own leaking fluids from the inside of his leg and begin to slowly coat the dreaded device. The mech seemed to be doing this overly slow, as if enjoying the dread in his optics. “You are a sadistic bastard!” he growled.

Cyclonus glanced up at him, a smirk on his face as he poked a finger inside Magnus’s torn receiver unit, coating it with lubrication. “Thank.. you.. for the.. compliment,” he croaked. His optics seemed to absolutely gleam in pleasure as he positioned the device at the entrance.

Ultra Magnus grimaced at the probing finger, but then his entire chassis went tense. His hydraulic pressure skyrocketing as he felt the dreaded device begin to press inside him. “Why’d I have to get stuck here with a freagin’ con?!” he gasped as Cyclonus inserted the entire length of the activator inside his torn aft. His trapped legs vibrated in response to his maxed out hydraulic pressure. His core temperature shot up as he felt Cyclonus secure the device in place. “Just turn the slaggin’ thing on low,” he groaned, fully resigned to the dreaded treatment. It wasn’t like he could stop the freagin’ con.

The purple mech grinned deviously at him as he tapped the activator and turned it on. Ultra Magnus arched as the device flooded him with an intense energy field. The mixture of pain and pleasure caused him to groan as tears filled his optics. Then a strange numbness began to infiltrate the other two sensations. “I.. I told you low!” he gasped as he tried to blink back his tears.

Cyclonus just shrugged again. “Autobots.. such wimps…” he croaked. Getting to his knees, he forced the gasping mech to lie down. Then he lay down as well, facing Ultra Magnus, and pinning him tightly between him and the wall. Wrapping his leg over the top of the blue mech’s, he forced their pelvic regions tightly together. The intense energy field generated from within Magnus, now affecting his circuits as well.

Trembling in revulsion to the intense electric field that was engulfing his internal sensors, Ultra Magnus locked optics with the con. “You’re enjoying this.. too much,” he accused.

Grinning, Cyclonus merely nodded in reply. Taking the trapped mech’s lips, he slammed the back of Magnus’s helm against the wall. Pushing his jaws roughly against the resisting Autobot’s, forcing his mouth open. He invaded the mech’s mouth with his glossa.. Commanding it… Grinding his hips even tighter to Magnus’s, he bucked slightly. Enjoying the jerk that the mech gave in response…Releasing Magnus’s lips, Cyclonus turned his attentions to his helm. He forced his chained hands behind it, and rubbing the thin audio receptors in between his fingertips.

“Stop this! Let me go you fragger! Do you have a freagin’ glitch!?!” Magnus gasped. His face showed his total disbelief at Cyclonus’s actions. They’d fought against each other for millennia! Had sought to off-line each other more times than he could recall.. Had the actions of the Sharkicons caused a glitch in Cyclonus’s programming?

“Oh… I’m .. not going to .. rape you..” Cyclonus croaked, then he made a strange sound, like he was trying to snicker, but his damaged vocalizer wouldn’t do it. “I’ve just always.. wanted to.. Pleasure you..” he finished. His vocalizer made a strange sound, and then finally failing completely.

Ultra Magnus looked at the mech with a mixture of curiosity and horror on his face. But before he could reply, the mech had taken his lips again. Silencing any further protests…

He shuddered against the mech. The sensation of the intense electric field as it first numbed his sensors his internal sensors, and then spread warmth through him as repairs began, sought to overwhelm his sensibilities concerning the awkward situation. Cyclonus’s glossa dove inside his mouth, exploring every nook.. Every crevice.. Forcing his own glossa out. Into his mouth… Then Cyclonus seemed to suckle on it gently. The intense stimulation shooting through Magnus’s meta.

This glossa teasing went on for an astrohour. The con running his hands along Magnus’s shivering chassis. It was as if he’d always wanted to explore him. Always wanted to know his every bolt, his every panel.. Ultra Magnus began to relax under his attentions. The activator’s intense field caused waves of pleasure impulses to race through his internal nets. His damaged regions being repaired.. Being made whole and functional again..

Had Cyclonus secretly lusted for me? Magnus thought. If so, for how long? How many battles had he fought, trying to kill the object of his desire? Had he tried to kill me in order to bury this passion? The implications of the whole situation just blew his meta. Then he felt Cyclonus’s hands move downward between them. Heard the familiar sound of a hatch as it slid open. Cyclonus’s fingers teased out his own bonding cable.

Ultra Magnus’s optics opened wide in apprehension. Had the mech been overcome by his passion? Was he going to remove the activator and just go ahead and rape him? Doing a quick scan, Magnus knew with certainty, that he while he was now almost fully repaired down there. He could very well be torn open again the second that Cyclonus thrust that thick cable within him. He felt Cyclonus touch his inner thighs. Tensing in apprehension, he focused on those fingers as they slid between his trembling legs.. Rubbing along his exposed wires.. Getting closer to the activator, to rip it out… To open him for the cable that was getting thicker as the hydraulic pressure built up within it.

But the fingers didn’t touch the activator; instead they just rubbed the leaked lubricant around. He felt them guide the thickening cable so that it stood straight out from Cyclonus. Trapped it between his clenched thighs and bonding cables.. Then the mech started to move his hips slightly. The shaft of his pressurized cable rubbed against Ultra Magnus’s naked wires. Its slick and lubricated surface moved in and out of the tight space between his clenched thighs, rubbing firmly against the surface of his bonding net. But there was no true penetration; the act caused no pain, just intense stimulation for them both.

Cyclonus took his lips again. Invading his mouth just as he thrust against him again and again.. Ultra Magnus trembled against him helplessly. The intense stimulation of his bonding circuits both inside and out, over riding any trepidation which remained. Giving himself fully into the experience, he bucked against the mech. Tightening his thighs in order to press the moving shaft tighter against his circuits. Overload sequences began to initiate as his core temperature shot up in response to the intense stimuli. With a final shudder, Ultra Magnus shut down and lay limply next against Cyclonus.

As his optics went dark, the hologram lifted off of the Sharkicon guard. Sliding away from Magnus, he stood over him and casually kicked him over. Bending down, he roughly spread the blue mech’s legs. Reaching down, he ripped the activator out of him and shut it off. As he put it back in his storage compartment, he looked down. His own bonding cable was still fully pressurized. He glanced down at the unconscious mech spread out on the floor beneath him. The stupid Sharkicon considered the situation for a bit.

Deciding he wanted some release, he got on his knees between Ultra Magnus’s spread legs. Coating his cable with the lubricant on the mech’s thighs, he positioned himself and rammed his cable slowly into him. As long as the mech wasn’t damaged, his masters wouldn’t care. That’s what they’d said. So slowly, he thrust in and out, making sure to add lubricant as he needed it. His optics got a far away look in them as the pleasure stimuli flowed over his small meta. Faster and faster he thrust, until with a grunt he slammed against the mech as hard as he could. Excess lubricant flowed into the unconscious mech as the guard released his pressure. With a couple shorter, hard thrusts, he was done.

Standing up, he retracted his cables back within him and closed his hatch. Grabbing Ultra Magnus’s leg, he dragged him towards the cell door and rapped a code on it..

---

“Fascinating how similar they reacted; though one did it in hostility, the other in confusion.”

“Yes, they both tried to deny their reactions, yet succumbed to them willingly in the end.”

“So opposite, yet so similar.”

“Yes, it’s time for the third test.”

“Proceed”

---

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Five Phases of Torture