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Faded Blues	By : paw07 Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > Slash - M/M Views: 2680 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers nor make any money from my wonderfully done smut... a shame. XD

Chapter List
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Chapter 3: The Water’s Edge
Sentinel shivered, moaning as his helm ached.
He didn’t indulge in high grade very often but when he did. Yeah, hangovers happened. He just figured it was a bad habit that drug over from his days in the academy before he became such a stickler for regulations.
Sighing, he yawned and pulled his aching body closer and into a ball. He immediately twitched as an sting came from between his legs. Frag, what happened? His equipment ached… his valve to be exact.
Optics onlining, the Prime dizzily sat up and spread his legs. He noticed two things instantly. His cod piece was missing … and … and there was dried fluid between his thighs.
No, no, no! This was not happening! He had gotten so drunk last night that he had allowed some mech to take advantage of him! How could he be so stupid! He was an officer! He had a title to protect yet here he was covered in some other mech’s fluid and in a strange room from the look of it.
What had happened? Who had fragged him?
Scrap, he didn’t have a plug either. How far had it gone because his spark was twitching oddly. In fact, he could see it beating, its light raining over the walls. Which… would mean his chassis was open or … ripped open. Looking down, seeing the terrible shape his form was in, plating missing, wrists worn, energon dripping from his jaw line. He remembered.
“… It was Megatron…”
“Yes? My little Autobot?”
Jumping, nearly falling off of the large berth, Sentinel turned his head and cringed. There, across the room, was a large shadow. Then, if only for presentation, he watched as the large figure pulled something out of his subspace and then there was a flame … a cy-gar being lit. It was a faint light, shivering almost, but it was enough to illuminate the regal features of Megatron. The mech was just sitting there, in the shadows, watching him as he puffed away at the smoky pleasure.
Sentinel, still not fully of mind, made a fast jump to get off the berth. Yet, as his peds hit the floor and his face turned toward what looked like the door, a pinch occurred between his legs and his carrying chamber became tight … and sloshed. With a dry grunt, Sentinel quickly found himself grabbing onto the berth to remain upright, his thighs aching even more then moments ago.
Megatron chuckled darkly and sat there as if he was merely a spectator, taking a puff of his metal treat before he pulled it out of his mouth and looked at it almost questionably. His tone was almost mocking, “I know a lot of mechs think cy-gars are a nasty habits and bad for the vents, but they aren’t that bad. You certainly don’t have to run out of the room because of it … Not that you could.”
“My lock hacking skills are very well off,” growled Sentinel, glad he had studied it in the days when he was still a trouble maker. Though he would rather stand and fight … a good soldier knew when to retreat though.
Nodding, putting the treat back in his mouth, Megatron took another puff as it lit up his face, murmuring, “Well, I’m glad to know that, but … the door is opened.”
Sentinel looked at the door almost longingly until the warlord continued.
“Though… we are in space, which can be a problem for grounders I hear. No propulsion systems or anything,” he said with a dark smile, continuing, “You can certainly try though. I’d have to punish you for trying to escape afterward… I’ve never fragged in the void of space mind you, but it might be interesting.”
Frowning, holding back a whimper in his throat, Sentinel tried to pull his thighs closer together only to lose his balance completely and slide to the floor, a hand still gripping the top of the berth. It took him a moment to find his voice as he retorted, “I-I am not going to be your brood mare no matter where you take me!”
Taking another puff, Megatron shook his head, “Ah yes, I see you remember that. Trust me, it isn’t ideal for either of us.”
Optics going wide, Sentinel’s brow became creased as he glared at the large mech, asking, “Then let me go! You don’t need me! I don’t care if you leave me in the void of space!”
Looking slightly tired, Megatron shook his head. “It’s not that simple. I should have taken you to my berth, but I was horny and had … over looked that fact. So I ravished you there on my throne. Trust me, if you think some Autobot laws are odd, try some Decepticon traditions. I swear some of those beliefs were written down by mad mechs.”
Sentinel, knowing that he would rather have Megatron talking instead of touching him, thought it best to entertain the other, “I’m surprised that Cons have any beliefs. You are a backstabbing bunch.”
Sitting there a moment, staring at the blue bot, the warlord shrugged his shoulders slightly and murmured, “We trust others, not blindly like you Autobots do, but we won’t kill each other over nothing. Well, there are a few power hungry mechs but that is not considered a negative thing, but since the Ancient War when we were banished from our home world … my ancestors had to depend on each other to survive which required bonds and marginal amounts of trust … and spark reproduction if we were to continue. Thus, family units were created and with family units, predictably, comes culture and belief systems and traditions and I rather hate going home. Sometimes, half of me believes that I left to find the Allspark if only to get away from home, conquering Cybertron had seemed more like a musing for a later generation because I thought it would take vorns of my life to find that stupid thing. Part of me thought it was a fairy tale my sire had created.”
Blinking, confused, Sentinel found himself murmuring, “I-I don’t recall any of this in the Decepticon History Handbooks… You are warmongers, feeding off all who get too near.”
Shrugging, Megatron admitted, “Well, we do plunder from time to time, keeps us entertained, but mostly Autobot ships. We leave our Neutral Trade Routes alone. We actually have a semi-decent relationship with the Outer Way Neutral Colonies.”
Sentinel, nodding, understood this too a point. The Outer Way Colonies were colonies that had formed during the Ancient War and kept to themselves. They still thought it wrong that they were not All One… whatever that meant.
Then, telling himself it was for intel more than curiosity, Sentinel asked, “So… what of these traditions?”
Blinking his optic, smiling down at the blue mech’s daring, Megatron leaned forward, taking his cy-gar from his mouth, “Oh, there are battles for mates and station and riches. There are positions of power, though have to be earned in the long run even if you are born into a Nobel family or the Royal family, but even those titles need to be earned. Starscream or a no-name could have easily gained my position in the war efforts, unlike you Autobots. You and your Tower mechs and your unmovable classes. Even today you have classes… the half-breeds have to come to us to survive. The mechs with purple optics.”
His glare softening as Sentinel shifted his legs, wincing; the warlord added, “I even earned the right to direct the war efforts towards Cybertron. Not that it was hard … as an heir to the original Megatron.”
Confusion and panic started overcoming his curiosity, Sentinel murmured, “I … don’t understand. Are you not the real Megatron? Who is this sire you spoke of? I know you have upgraded your form over the vorns to look younger but I’m confused.”
Chuckling, looking over Sentinel for every scrape and burnt feature, the flier coyly replied, “Autobots never do understand. So, let me explain this in the simplest way I can. After the Ancient War, there isn’t much to do in space but frag and the First Megatron took a liking to fragging in his throne. It is no surprise that he produced an heir nor the other old families like the Shockwaves or the Starscreams, unfortunately. Thus, where there are sparklings, roots must be laid. High positions then became powerful families and powerful families became lords and royalty.”
Optics going wide, titles that were more alien then Cybertronain in origin pulling at his spark and yet he knew the words meaning all too well as the word came from his vocals, “Y-you’re a King? B-but you are a monster.”
Standing up, walking forward as Sentinel twitched back because he was unable to defend himself in this state, Megatron swung on his legs lazily for a moment before he leaned downward and blew some smoke on the blue mech. Then, getting close enough that Sentinel could see the mechanics behind his optics, Megatron purred, “It’s Prince actually … but at least you are not as dumb as I thought.”
Then, hand shooting forward, he grabbed Sentinel by the helm and, Autobot wincing, he pulled Sentinel to his feet. Then, letting go of Sentinel’s beaten form, he looked him up and down, the prince grumbling, “But, as a Prince I was taught to keep my things nice. Now, stay on your feet. We need to clean you up and then take you to Oil Slick. He will repair any damage you have sustained. Come, to the wash racks.”
Knowing that if he was going to get out of here he had to be up to par, Sentinel slowly started forward toward the door, valve aching and his spark chamber twitching. At least his wrists were free but … frag, why couldn’t he just go to the medic first? Jaw aching, he found himself asking that very thing, “Why can’t I just … ugh.”
His valve gave a violent twitch, his whole carrying chamber becoming tight and Sentinel fell to his knees, grabbing at his middle. Primus, pit… frag, it hurt. It hurt so badly. What had that fragger done to him!
Smirking, Megatron got down on one knee, murmuring, “I penetrated you all the way to your carrying chamber, didn’t I? Didn’t help you were a virgin. A popping can be troublesome. I’ve heard of mechs that couldn’t walk for an orn, especially mechs. A femme has it off easier since they are specifically made to expand their valves and shoot out sparklings.”
So… that explained why he was having trouble while femmes seemed to have an easier time.
“It seems I will just have to carry you until your valve has healed,” smirked Megatron, his mind probably liking Sentinel so helpless. Then, leaning forward, he picked up a horrified Sentinel. Not even missing a beat, Megatron then started out into the hall.
Blushing, noting that Megatron’s hands were too close to his aft and his revealed valve, Sentinel barked, “Just take me to the medic then! That way I can walk on my own!”
Laughing, the warlord a little more tolerable admittedly when he wasn’t torturing or trying to kill you, added, “That would do little to help that condition. Have you never taken a mech before? It’s the rearranging of the valve and chamber, there is nothing to heal… though some of your soreness might be from your ripped peta-flesh though. I pounded into you a little too hard it seems.”
…
Frag, everything hurt. Everything. Not only had he been carried like a hapless sparkling, now he couldn’t even clean himself properly since his body ached. He didn’t even want to think about cleaning his port. In truth, he didn’t even know how to properly clean his chamber. In fact, if he was alone, he would have rather taken this time to have a good cry. He had been tortured, raped, and then claimed … Was he really expected to just take this in stride? To bath next to his rapist as if it was any other cleaning? He didn’t care if Megatron was apparently a Prince.
This was wrong. This was so wrong!
Yet, there was no time for tears when suddenly there was a large hand wrapping itself around his waist and pulling him into the shallower water of the large pool Megatron had taken them too, the large mech purring in the echoing chamber, “Can you not clean yourself? I have almost finished my own form and you have barely even started. Do you need assistance?”
Shivering, despite the warmth of the cleaner they were in, Sentinel stumbled away and sat down on one of the underwater steel seats as the large grey prince stood over him. Sentinel tried to ignore the partially gleaming form of Megatron as cleaner fluid and bubbles dripped down the lord’s form, his cod piece gone and a limp spike being soaked. Despite pretending to not noticed the other’s intimidating stance, Sentinel couldn’t stop himself from glancing at it again and again and yet he nearly jumped away as a soapy towel was handed to him, the tall warlord leaning down with his own towel to start cleaning one of the Prime’s charred shoulders. Sentinel wanted to lean away from the large mech’s ministrations but reminded himself … the more docile he acted, the greater likability he would be underestimated and thus would be allowed to escape. Offlining his optics, Sentinel pretended that a pretty nurse was now assisting him in bathing and for a few cycles there was nothing but the sound of splashing and minor hissing from time to time when Megatron cleaned out an open wound or over a missing plate.
After a while, despite himself, Sentinel did have to note that Megatron had practiced hands and … it actually felt good to have someone cleaning at his plating and aching wounds. For being a fragger that had raped him, Megatron’s touch was a lot gentler than he thought. Which logically shouldn’t have been a surprise, Megatron was apparently cleaning him up for repair, but still … he was still worried about the discussion the Cons had had over him while he was on that throne.
It was foreboding. Then again, this could all be a prank or a ploy to try and mentally weaken him, but he had to be strong. He had to uphold some of his honor… even just an ounce of it.
He had to fight every inch of the way … despite his sullied body.
“You know,” said Megatron suddenly, nearly making the younger bot jump as a rag was moved down his spinal column coming near his aft only to go back up and start pressing at the seams of the back to clean any grit or oil out; the silence was broken. “You are not as lovely as the little Prime that nearly offlined me. Optimus I believe it was.”
Twitching as the towel moved down again, cleaning a lower seam in his back, Sentinel grumbled, “You mean porn face? At least that was the nickname Elita and I used to give him because of his lips.”
The booming laugh that escaped the warlord nearly made Sentinel jump away, but he needed to look submissive. It would mean less damage for him and more escaping. If he had to stand here and be scrubbed and make small talk with his bot-napper, then so be it. He was trained for torture … though he doubted his instructors had this in mind when they had put him through a battery of tests.
“Is that so? Well, he does have great features, big lips, slim form, and … a nice aft,” purred Megatron as his hand dipped under the water and the rag found itself rubbing Sentinel’s aft as it slid closer to Sentinel’s exposed equipment. Sentinel couldn’t help but twitch away, wondering if his valve would ever be covered again. Megatron, no dissuaded, pressed his hand down again between Sentinel’s legs … the cleaning apparently done as a claw pricked as his hole in a taunting manner, Megatron grinning darkly.
Swallowing, figuring that Megatron was probably confusing submission for consensual, Sentinel found himself thrashing away and into a deeper part of the cleaning pool.
Megatron huffed slightly as if merely disappointed that this wasn’t going to be an easy lay. Then, smile still there, he chuckled at that thought of chasing Sentinel and lunged forward as if this was merely a pool game.
Sentinel, knowing that getting into the helo’s grasp probably wouldn’t leave him deactivated, didn’t want to know what was going to happen regardless. Though he had a good idea. So, despite his better judgment he lunged for the deeper water that was meant for bigger bots… only to fall under, a drop off apparently at this side of the pool.
Megatron stalled, surprised that the other had fallen completely out of sight before he bellowed at the hilarity of it. The warlord nearly fell into the pool when Sentinel finally struggled to get back to the surface, gasping since his vents had evidently been open. This Autobot, Megatron decided, was klutzy enough to at least be some fun.
Watching long enough to at least humor himself, Megatron finally moved forward and grabbing a flailing hand. The prince wasted no time pulling the blue mech to the surface, savoring how the Autobot grappled at his form in desperation as Sentinel struggled to kick water out of his vents. The horny mech merely chuckled at this, reinforcing his grip when the blue Prime finally noticed whose arms he was in.
“But … your frame is not uncomely either. I like your color and your hips and waist are far more suited for mating,” taunted Megatron as he started pulling the still-sputtering mech into the shallow water, until they came near a spout.
Ah, this was perfect.
Megatron then wasted no time it taking a longer rag from the side of the pool, his thoughts already going back towards the aft pressed again his crotch-area. Then, wasting no time, he used the towel like a rope, using it to tie the reluctant Autobot to said spout. He then wasted no time in pushing Sentinel onto the underwater seating extension, trying to spread those blue legs apart.
Sentinel, finally finished sputtering water out of his vents, finally reacted as he choked as he pulled on his restraints, crying, “No, no, no, no! You fragged me all night! Please don’t!”
Grinning, not wanting to be dented again, Megatron suddenly used his larger legs to pin Sentinel’s legs to the steel seat, purring, “Now, now… that was yesterday and today is today. This little game calls for seven cycles of breeding… that means at least one joining per mega-cycle. The less you fight, the more fun it will be for both of us … or you can just continue fighting and let me have all the fun?”
Struggling to not blubber though he felt cleaner already threatening to fall down his cheek, he almost wailed when Megatron put a hand between his legs. For a moment the large grey mech merely rubbed his hand against his neither regions before thrusting a finger forward in a small wet hole … Sentinel’s hole. There was a burp of air in the pool as a small amount of silver-grey cum came to the surface, proof of just how many times Megatron spilled his seed into the other.
“Primus … just how much cum did I spill in you? Ugh, Primus … I wonder if I could make your belly expand from being filled with nanites alone? Pit, that thought alone makes me … frisky,” chuckled the large grey mech as he leaned forward and placed his mouth in the crook of Sentinel’s neck, merely sniffing first before he dragged out a large tongue and started lapping at sensitive meta-flesh. Offlining his optics as he bid his coolant tears not to fall, Sentinel only allowed one blubber to escape his throat as he felt a slowly hardening spike poke at his legs.
Despite himself, Sentinel slowly onlined his optics and looked for the thing that was poking him. His vents actually stuttered in horror … that thing looked twice as big as it had been on the throne.
Smiling at the horror filled whimper that escaped the Autobot’s throat, still sucking on the Autobot’s neck cables, Megatron’s free hand felt for a rag on the side of the cleaning pool. He was only partially hard and the Autobot was already petrified. Well … the little slagger better get used to it … and Megatron knew the perfect lesson. Pulling back, the war-lord stood up straight and tilted his spine back so Sentinel had a full view of his family’s treasure, bring the cleaning rag down so he could start cleaning the large spike … and to arouse it.
Loving the terror-filled expression on the Autobot’s face as he started pumping with the cleaning rag, Megatron grunted, “Your valve will soon be getting another treat, little Autobot, and even if I put you to death … at least your last few frags were given to you by me.”
Sentinel, struggling against the spout, found his optics were unable to leave that grey spike and its faint dark grey line-work, the Prime whispering, “I will not let you put that thing in me. Not again! Not here!”
Getting harder quicker as he thought of the Autobot struggling, Megatron smiled coolly, “And how will you stop me? You are injured, low on fuel, and partially restrained. If you are a good mech you will get to be repaired and fed sooner.”
Putting the rag onto the side of the pool, leaning in as he grabbed that wide chin, the flier asked, “Wouldn’t that just be easier?”
Chin aching in the mech’s silver hand, a part of Sentinel really did want to agree, but instead his words were growled, “I’m an Autobot. I am proud … I will not make this easy for you.”
The larger mech merely smiled, leaning in closer and closer until he whispered back, “Good.”
Then twisting around, Sentinel’s optics went wide as he found Megatron sitting down next to him, grabbing him around the waist and by the hip. Then, not even waiting for Sentinel to struggle, the larger mech lifted the Prime up… and positioned him onto his own hips. The position was obvious. He was going to make Sentinel ride his spike. He was going to pound up into him and come again and again.
… No.
“Primus! Please, not again! Just… ahhh!” Sentinel pleaded as he tried to jump out of that lap, but Megatron’s grip was assured despite the blue mech’s struggles. Megatron merely smiled wickedly as he kept pulling the Autobot down onto his lap, that hard spike poking against Sentinel’s inner thighs. And then, Megatron probably deciding he had played enough … the warlord grabbed those thighs and pressed down harshly, that hard spike finally finding a warm opening.
Sentinel merely leaned forward crying out and Megatron merely huffed his vents in appeasement, slowly grinding those hips down into his lap, spreading him. Megatron could only purr as tightness started to engulf his member, “Now, now. No need for melodrama. Just enjoy it my little popped mech. You’re body doesn’t know any different so I’m going to make you come for me.”
Shaking his head, trying to not blubber like a sparkling, Sentinel’s vents gasped as Megatron wrapped a hand around his waist and slowly started thrusting upward, working that spike into place, filling the Autobot up. Sentinel’s valve twitching in pain yet at the same time he felt it shiver in acceptance. He was going to come for Megatron, he knew he would. His body knew no different.
“P-please,” choked Sentinel as the spike was pressed farther up into his still-partially stretched valve, making him twitch. Megatron paid it no mind though as he took one hand and pulled Sentinel’s neck to the side, that warm grey mouth working on neck cables again, tasting energon from the re-aggravated wound.
It wasn’t long before Sentinel was wailing again in mental anguish, his vocals blubbering as Megatron picked up the pace, his full spike thrusting up hard again and again and again, re-spreading walls and forcing the valve to contract with sickening pleasure-laced pain. It didn’t help that the spike inside him felt red-hot and yet Sentinel found a part of his mind wanted it deeper and deeper with each penetrating thrust upward.
Unable to stop himself, Sentinel felt his valve start to get fuzzy, his whole carrier tank feeling bubbly, “P-Please stop! Primus, I can’t come for you again! Not again!”
Megatron, moaned at Sentinel’s words, his pace becoming erratic as he started to kiss the back of Sentinel’s shoulder struts, “Oh frag yes, come … come … come all around my big spike. I want your valve to suck my spike.”
Sentinel, bucking, whimpering and moaning nearly screamed as Megatron twisted inside him slightly still pounding into the stretched valve over and over again like a hot jack hammer. Then, arching, a part of him pressing down and trying to swallow as much as he could of that large spike, Sentinel came, wailing as his valve exploded in pleasure.
Megatron, moaning in satisfaction, kissed Sentinel’s neck in almost a mocking form of affection before he gave a few more good pounds and then threw his own head back in a roar, spilling deep into his little toy, pumping a few more times up to make sure the valve squeezed out as much as it could.
Then, the two of them panting, Megatron chuckled and grabbed for a rag, his limp spike being pulled out which was quickly followed with a blurp of nanites rising to the surface of the water. Then, placing a shaking Autobot on the metal seat, the warlord chuckled again down at the other, murmuring as he petted Sentinel’s cheek, “Pit … now you are dirty again, covered in my juices. No problem, I want to touch every inch of you, my little Autobot.”
Shaking but unable to pull away, Sentinel allowed the tears to flow freely in silence, Megatron picking up one of the Autobot’s metal feet and scrubbing it underwater as if this was just any other bath … as if the mech before him hadn’t just been raped.
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Faded Blues