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Collections	By : geminigirl83 Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > AU/AR Views: 19825 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I make no profit from this.

Chapter List
- 29
- 30
- 31
A/N: While browsing Transoekaki (http://www.ellensama.com/transoekaki/index.php?pageno=0), I came across a post that talked about flipping through The Allspark Almanac and randomly picking pairings. I tried it with my eyes closed, and these are what I came up with.

Pairings (all are crack!) include:
Cliffjumper/Swindle-1
Prometheus Black/Blitzwing-1
Blurr/Lugnut-1
Sentinel/Sunstorm-1
Bumblebee/Ultra Magnus-1
Ultra Magnus/Shockwave-1
Grimlock/Lockdown-1
Swindle/Bumblebee-1
Scrapper/Prowl-1

Title: Traitor
Pairing: Cliffjumper/Swindle
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: anal, AU, facial, oral, role-play: non-con, rimming, slash, spank, sticky
Summary: Cliffjumper has a kink about “traitors”.

“Don’t touch me, you filthy traitor!” Cliffjumper snapped, backing into an alley wall.

“Traitor? I hardly think so,” Swindle chuckled. “I’m just an equal opportunity entrepreneur.”

For three months, Swindle had been secretly meeting with the head of Cybertron Intelligence in back alleys on the quieter side of the planet. Swindle would hand over some of his dangerous arsenal, and in turn, Cliffjumper would offer himself up for the night. If caught, the consequences would be very unpleasant, but that only added to the excitement.

“Get away from me!” Cliffjumper snarled.

Swindle leered at Cliffjumper and lunged forward, pinning the smaller mech against the wall, slamming his lips over the red and black bot’s mouth. Growling into the rough kiss, helm lolling side to side in attempt to break away, Cliffjumper tried to strike out, wincing when his servos were snagged and slammed into the steel wall.

“Such a naughty Intel bot,” Swindle chided. “I might have to use the cuffs on you.”

“Don’t you slaggin’ dare!” Cliffjumper yelled.

His threats fell on deaf audios, and his arms were twisted behind him, cuffed in place. He squirmed and cursed as he was shoved to his knees, wincing when Swindle’s servo tightly held the back of his helm.

“Go on,” Swindle taunted, “and keep yelling, Autobot. I’ve got something nice and big to gag you with.”

Cliffjumper’s lips pursed in fury as Swindle’s cable emerged, tip rubbing over his cheek, leaving behind a trail of pearly lubricant.

“You’re perverted,” Cliffjumper grumbled.

“And you love it,” Swindle countered, guiding his length the Intel bot’s lips.

Huffing in defeat, Cliffjumper parted his lips, allowing Swindle’s plug to enter his mouth, swirling his glossa over the rigid metal and sucking hard. Moaning in pleasure, Swindle lazily thrust his hips, pushing deeper into Cliffjumper’s mouth, shuddering as the Intel bot’s talented glossa laved him. Releasing the back of Cliffjumper’s helm, Swindle used his fingers to pinch and massage the red and black mech’s horns. Cliffjumper let out a muffled whine, causing Swindle to moan even louder as the vibrations traveled through his girth. Quickly backing away and gritting his dentals, Swindle overloaded, lubricant spurting over Cliffjumper’s faceplates.

“Filthy traitor,” Cliffjumper muttered.

“I’m not the one covered in lubricant,” Swindle teased, kneeling down.

Chuckling at Cliffjumper’s irritated expression, Swindle lapped the lubricant from the smaller mech’s cheeks and chin, holding some in his mouth as he moved in to kiss the Intel bot, pushing the fluid past the red and black’s lips. Cliffjumper greedily took in the fluid, kissing back passionately as Swindle’s servos trailed down to his aft, cupping and squeezing.

“Open up your paneling,” Swindle cooed. “Let me touch that hot port.”

“No,” Cliffjumper stated.

He yelped as he was violently pushed to the ground and flipped over, aft pulled up, crying out when Swindle’s servo slammed over his backside. Forty whacks landed on his aft before he finally relented and slid back his plating, mewling as Swindle’s glossa laved his sore backside. His cuffed servos clenched when the arms dealer’s glossa traced the lining of his port, giving a few teasing licks before easing inside, flicking in and out, gently stretching his passage. Swindle grinned against Cliffjumper’s sweet tasting port as the smaller mech thrashed and whimpered.

“Want something more?” Swindle asked. He laughed when Cliffjumper remained quiet. “C’mon, sweetie, beg for me. I know you want my cable.” He sat up, rubbing his renewed arousal over Cliffjumper’s slick port. “You want my cable buried in your aft?”

Tilting his helm, Cliffjumper glared back at Swindle but gave no retort; he knew the arms dealer wouldn’t take him until he pleaded for it, and he was sick of the teasing touches. “Y--Yeah…I want your cable. Give it to me, you bastard traitor.”

“Such a way with words,” Swindle sighed, shoving his hips forward, setting up a hard and fast rhythm.

“Ahh!” Cliffjumper screamed, ramming his aft back, drawing Swindle deeper. “Yes! Yes! Frag me! Shove it in me, traitor! Harder! Harder! Unghhh!!!”

Snarling in lust, Swindle draped himself over Cliffjumper, relentlessly slamming into the Intel bot, biting and licking the red and black mech’s neck as he reached around to pump the bot’s neglected cable. It wasn’t long before overload swept through both mechs, screaming and writhing in pleasure until they collapsed in exhaustion.

“I hate being in these alleyways,” Swindle murmured, unlatching the cuffs from Cliffjumper. “I’d chip in for a room.” He dipped his servo between Cliffjumper’s thighs, fondling the heated metal. “Bet it’d be more comfortable.”

“Too risky,” Cliffjumper gruffly stated, shoving Swindle’s servo away. “I’ll contact you again when I… require your services.”

Transforming to vehicle mode, Cliffjumper sped away. It was then that Swindle realized that Cliffjumper never asked for weapons. Maybe the Intel bot had forgotten or maybe, Swindle thought happily, the bot was developing feelings for him.

Title: Vile Machine
Pairing: Prometheus Black/Blitzwing
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: anal, AU, human/mech interaction, language, non-con, oral, slash, sticky
Summary: (Some time before Prometheus becomes Meltdown.) Prometheus has an intense hatred for mechanical life. Perhaps this incident is one of the reasons why.

“Piece of fuckin’ junk!” Prometheus spat, pounding his fist onto the hood of his smoking car.

It was two in the morning, and even if by some small chance there was a towing company open, he wouldn’t be able to call. His cell phone was dead, and there were no payphones in sight. There wasn’t even any sign of life. No people. No service bots. Just the low humming of the street lamps ringing in his ears. He would have to walk.

Grumbling to himself, Prometheus strode down the deserted street, passing several warehouses. When one of the warehouse’s garage doors creaked open, he stopped, hoping there was a kind person in there he could ask for help. He shouted in alarm when a giant black and purple hand reached out and grabbed him, dragging him kicking and screaming inside the building. His eyes widened at the sight of a massive cream, black, and purple robot with an icy blue face and red eyes staring him over.

“W--What are you?!” Prometheus gasped. He grunted when the mech’s fingers squeezed him. “Let me go!”

“The name is Blitzwing,” the blue faced mech answered. A red face switched in. “You better show some respect, puny fleshling!” A black face with jagged teeth took over. “Oohh, he’s so soft and squishy! I want to rip off his armor and touch his bare flesh!”

“N--No! Stop!” Prometheus shouted, panic setting in as Blitzwing’s fingers started tugging on his suit. “T--There are other humans around! B--Better ones than me! J--Just let me go! Please!”

“Don’t give me orders, little human!” Hothead snarled. Icy took over. “You’re the only one I’m interested in.” Random switched in. “Hmm…I just love your slim body and caramel skin. I’m going to eat you up.”

“Stop! Stop, you son of a bitch!” Prometheus yelled, cheeks flaming from the leer the mech was giving him.

Wires shot out from Blitzwing’s servo, coiling over Prometheus’s wrists and ankles, keeping him pinned. Slowly, torturously, Blitzwing roughly tore Prometheus’s overcoat, suit, socks, and shoes off, flicking the man’s dark shades away, leaving the him only in his red satin boxers. He recoiled in terror and disgust as Blitzwing’s glossa snaked out, sliding over his face.

“P--Please…don’t do this,” Prometheus begged. “I--I’m the head of Biotech Unbound. I can give you--”

“Save your breath, fleshling!” Hothead growled, giving Prometheus a firm squeeze. Icy switched in. “As I said before, I’m only interested in you.” Random took over, cackling wildly. “You should be grateful that I’m going to play nicely. I could easily shred you and play with your insides…maybe even squeeze you until you burst.”

Nausea swept over Prometheus, and he grew lightheaded from the awful threats.

Icy tenderly licked and nuzzled Prometheus’s heated cheek. “But I won’t do that. You will enjoy this experience, human.” Hothead switched in, grazing his dentals over Prometheus’s chest. “You should be honored that I’ve chosen you, fleshling.”

Prometheus wanted to scream “no!” along with other, not so nice, words, but his voice failed when Blitzwing’s glossa laved his nipples. The slick appendage felt amazing on his sensitive skin, and he cursed as his body reacted to the gentle touch. A bulge soon formed in his boxers, and he squeezed back tears of shame as Blitzwing grinned smugly at him, trembling as the mech’s glossa trailed down. He had experienced the pleasure of a woman’s body on more than one occasion but never a male. This should have disgusted him, not aroused him. He screamed when his satin covered erection was nuzzled and licked. The bulge grew damp from the slickness of Blitzwing’s probing glossa and his own fluid.

Growing tired of the annoying fabric, Blitzwing snagged the material with his dentals and pulled until it tore off, spitting out the fabric with a wicked smirk. “Impressive…for a human.”

“No! No! No!” Prometheus chanted, thrashing against his binds. “Let me go, you disgusting machine!”

Hothead switched in and gave Prometheus a hard shake, but Random quickly took over with a goofy grin. A sharp wail came from Prometheus as Blitzwing’s glossa curled over his rigid cock, tip teasing the leaking slit. After a few languid pumps, Blitzwing grew bored, and lowered his glossa to Prometheus’s balls, chuckling as the man screamed and bucked his hips. He tensed in fear as the glossa probed lower.

“No! Not there, damn it!” Prometheus yelled, desperately trying to close his legs but failing.

Surprisingly, Blitzwing pulled away, but Prometheus didn’t feel any relief, not with the evil grin the mech was giving him. Something thick was soon prodding his entrance. A cluster of wires had massed together to form a phallus. Prometheus opened his mouth to beg, but a pained scream came out instead as the mock phallus pierced his unprepared ass.

“Ah…aha…so soft…so tight!” Random moaned.

Agony ripped through Prometheus as his virgin passage was stretched wider and repeatedly rammed into. Blitzwing resumed lapping his cock, and his voice became hoarse from the screams of mixed pain and pleasure as each thrust of the phallus grazed over his prostate. The confusing sensations were too much for the man, and he climaxed, body becoming limp as Blitzwing’s thrusts grew more violent and erratic from approaching overload.

“Ngh! Slag!” Hothead bellowed, servo and wires going lax. “Slaggin’ Pit!”

Prometheus grunted as he fell from Blitzwing’s servo, rolling across the cold pavement, wincing from the soreness in his ass. He remained still as Blitzwing, panting from the intensity of overload, rubbed a finger along his back.

“That was wonderful, little human,” Icy cooed. Random cut in. “We’ll have to do it again sometime! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!”

Prometheus clenched his fists and gritted his teeth in rage as the mech transformed and flew out of the warehouse.

Title: Cherished Gift
Pairing: Blurr/Lugnut
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: anal, AU, non-con, oral, rimming, size difference, slash, sticky
Summary: Cybertron has been taken over by Decepticons, and Blurr finds himself in the role of a slave.

“I’m very happy with your hard work Lugnut,” Megatron stated, grinning as the kneeling mech trembled in joy from the praise. “I want to give you a special reward. I’m sure you’ll cherish him for the rest of your function.”

Blurr quailed in terror as he was shoved before Lugnut, landing painfully on his knees. His life had been turned into a nightmare since Cybertron was conquered by the Decepticons, forced to watch as many of his friends were either tortured to death or placed in work camps or brothels, and now he was being handed over as a slave to a mech notorious for his hatred of Autobots.

“Thank you, glorious Megatron,” Lugnut murmured, “ but I am not worthy of such a beautiful gift.”

“You’re more than worthy,” Megatron countered. “Now go, and enjoy your gift.”

Lugnut bowed his helm in reverence, and then scooped Blurr up in his massive arms, eliciting a terrified squeak from the speedster. Blurr trembled violently as he was carried off. Breaking free wasn’t an option. There was no where safe to run, and he was certain the consequences of attempting an escape would be painful. He became even more terrified when he was taken to what appeared to be Lugnut’s private quarters, filled with lavish furniture, a fully stocked kitchen, a wash room with a jacuzzi, an entertainment center with various computers, and a massive berth covered with the finest silk pillows and blankets.

“This will be your new home,” Lugnut stated, laying Blurr out on the berth. “You can wander through my private rooms to your spark’s content, but you will not leave these rooms without permission. If you do, you will be punished. Understand, Autobot?”

Giving Lugnut a shaky nod, Blurr asked, “W--What-are-you-going-to-do-with-me?”

A smirk formed on Lugnut’s faceplates as he gently massaged Blurr’s long horn with his pincher. “You’re rather pretty…for an Autobot.”

Blurr’s optics widened in horror. “N--No. You-can’t-mean--”

He was cut off with a firm press of Lugnut’s mouth over his lips. The pincher rubbing his horn lowered to grasp the back of his helm, holding him in place as his lips were pried open by the green and purple mech’s long, thick glossa. A frightened whimper emitted from him as his mouth was plundered, shivering as Lugnut’s other pincher pushed between his quivering thighs. Managing to finally tear away, he cried out as the pincher groped his groin.

“W--Wait! Please! I-have-other-uses!” Blurr stammered. “I-can-file-paperwork! I-can-clean-and-repair-almost-anything!”

Lugnut laughed. “I have no need of a secretary or maintenance bot. Lord Megatron told me to enjoy you, and I always follow his orders.”

Optics brimming with oily tears, Blurr shook his helm frantically as Lugnut’s pelvic plating retracted, revealing a monstrous, erect cable. He gasped when Lugnut grabbed his servos, placing them over the twitching length. Both of his servos couldn’t fit around it, and he nearly purged his fueling tanks from the thought of the girth tearing open his aft. Chassis heaving with choked sobs, he cursed his weak processor. He wanted to be brave, but it seemed to be an impossible feat.

“Hush,” Lugnut soothed, caressing Blurr’s damp cheek. “I won’t hurt you…if you behave.” He pushed his hips forward, moaning as his plug slid along Blurr’s lips. “Use your glossa.”

Hesitantly, Blurr complied, running his glossa over the tip, lapping away the droplets of lubricant. He wondered why Lugnut was being as gentle with him, and then he remembered what Megatron had told the green and purple mech. Cherish him. Lugnut was following Megatron’s orders. That was probably the only reason Lugnut wasn’t ripping him to pieces.

“Ungh…you have a talented glossa, Autobot,” Lugnut groaned. He grabbed Blurr’s shoulders, easing the speedster back. “Now, let me show you what I can do with mine.” Blurr bucked and cried out when Lugnut’s long glossa laved his plated groin. “Open up, Autobot. Don’t make say it again.”

Horrified of the prospect of torture, Blurr opened his paneling, crying out again as Lugnut’s glossa curled around his cable, engulfing him in slick, soft, heat. He nearly overloaded when the glossa began pumping his sensitive length, actually letting out a disappointed whine when the larger mech pulled away. Lugnut chuckled softly and delved his glossa into Blurr’s port, hungrily lapping the wet passage.

“A--Ah!!” Blurr yelled.

Lugnut’s glossa felt massive, similar to a plug stretching him open, repeatedly slamming into him. After a few minutes, Lugnut pulled away again, snagging Blurr’s thighs in his pinchers, pushing the speedster’s legs wider apart. Blurr began thrashing wildly, trying to escape Lugnut’s vise like grip as the larger mech’s cable teased his opening.

“N--No! No! You-can’t!” Blurr wailed. “You’re-too-big! You’ll-tear-me-apart-and-kill-me! Please-don’t!”

“Easy, Autobot, I won’t put it all the way in,” Lugnut murmured.

A pained scream ripped through Blurr’s vocalizer. This shouldn’t have been happening, not with their size differences, but somehow the head of Lugnut’s plug had pierced him without damage. The breach hurt like pit, and Blurr let out another scream as his passage began to spasm around the intrusion.

“P--Please-it-hurts!” Blurr sobbed. “It-hurts! Stop! Stop!”

Nuzzling his face into Blurr’s tense neck cables, Lugnut cooed, “Relax. The pain will pass, Autobot.”

Blurr whimpered in defeat as Lugnut licked away his tears. The larger mech’s hips remained still, cable pushing no deeper. Gradually, the splitting pain dissipated, replaced with a pleasant, warm tingling. Noticing the pleasurable change in Blurr, Lugnut gently, slowly, rocked his hips, growling in bliss as the speedster’s passage rippled around him.

“Ungh! Ah! Slag! Slag! Slag!” Blurr screeched, fingers clawing at Lugnut’s pinchers.

Blurr couldn’t believe how pleasurable this was. He was panting hard, optics glazed, as sensors he didn’t even know existed were grazed over with the wide, blunt tip of Lugnut’s shaft. His entire frame, ranging from his armor to the smallest wires, felt like molten steel as each gentle rocking motion of Lugnut’s hips brought him closer to completion.

“Ngh! Ah! Aha! I’m-going-to-overload!” Blurr chanted. “I’m-going-to-overload! Please! Please!”

“Ahh! That’s it! Scream for me, little Autobot!” Lugnut shouted. “Scream louder! Let everyone in this base know who you belong to! Grr! Ngh! Scream my name, Autobot!”

Rationale long gone, Blurr screamed, “Lugnut! Lugnut!! Lugnut!!! Lugnut!!!! Ahhhh!!!”

Blinding pleasure ripped through Blurr, and white flashed over his optics as his CPU went wild with feedback, thrashing and wailing at the top of his vocalizer. Lugnut roared above him, and he whined as his passage was flooded with a copious amount of lubricant. He whimpered when Lugnut passionately kissed him, glossa roughly shoving into his mouth and twining with his glossa. As tears trickled down his flushed his cheeks, he wondered what was worse: that he been violated by a Decepticon or that he enjoyed it.

Title: Untitled
Pairing: Sentinel/Sunstorm
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: anal, AU, oral, slash, sticky
Summary: (Takes place some time after Decepticon Air) Jazz stumbles across something he shouldn’t see.

Jazz grumbled as he strode down to the brig. The cameras monitoring the cells weren’t working and although the prisoners were still frozen in ice, Jazz wasn’t taking any chances. He didn’t want to experience another breakout.

“Ungh…yeah…suck it you filthy ‘Con.”

Jazz recognized Sentinel’s voice, and he quietly stepped through the door, quickly ducking behind a few crates. Sunstorm, unfrozen and cuffed, was on his knees before Sentinel, sucking the Prime’s cable.

“Like sucking my cable, ‘Con?” Sentinel growled.

Letting the thick plug slip from his lips, Sunstorm murmured, “Yes…I love the taste of your lubricant. So sweet…the best I’ve tasted.” He nuzzled the twitching length, smirking as lubricant dribbled onto his chin. “Ohh…you’re so big. I can barely take you into my mouth.”

Sentinel chuckled darkly, forcing his length back into Sunstorm’s mouth. “Just wait until I ram it into your aft.” His grin grew wider as Sunstorm moaned, shuddering from the vibrations. “Eager for Elite Guard cable, hmm? Eager for me to split you open over and over until you can’t take anymore?” Sunstorm moaned again, bobbing his helm, swallowing the Prime’s entire girth. “Ah! Ngh! Slag, you’re good!”

Sunstorm pulled away when Sentinel released his helm. “I’m not worthy of such praise, noble Sentinel.”

“So humble…for a Decepticon,” Sentinel snickered, shoving the seeker onto his back. “Open up or do I have to force you to comply?”

“I wouldn’t dare resist you, great Sentinel,” Sunstorm replied, retracting his plating, revealing his aroused cable and leaking port. “See how hard and wet you’ve made me?”

“My eager, pretty whore,” Sentinel cooed, guiding his plug toward Sunstorm’s opening. “How would you like to be my slave back on Cybertron? I’d treat you well…despite your background. I have the power to arrange it.”

“I would be honored to serve you until the end of my function,” Sunstorm whimpered, pushing his aft toward the approaching cable. “Please, claim me. I’m yours. Please?”

Both cried out when they connected, writhing hard against one another from the pleasurable sensations.

“Primus, you’re huge!” Sunstorm wailed.

Sentinel drank up all the praise going straight to his inflated processor and spark, using one servo to pinch and scratch at one of Sunstorm’s wings as he used the other to hold the seeker’s pede near his mouth, lapping and nibbling the sensitive heel.

“Oh! Oh! I’m close!” Sunstorm cried, rolling his hips. “I’m so close! Please, let me overload!”

“Not yet,” Sentinel snarled, releasing Sunstorm’s pede to wrap around the seeker’s cable, firmly squeezing the base, cutting off the mech’s approaching climax.

“Ohh…don’t tease me!” Sunstorm whined. “Frag! Let me overload!”

“Don’t give me orders, ‘Con,” Sentinel growled, squeezing harder.

Sunstorm winced from the painful pressure. “I’m sorry! Ngh! Please, forgive me! Ahh!”

“I suppose I can let it slide since…ngh…you’ve been behaving yourself,” Sentinel cooed, increasing the speed of his pumping hips.

Eventually, Sentinel uncurled his servo, and Sunstorm screamed from the release of pressure, sending the seeker crashing into overload. Sentinel quickly followed, giving a few more hard thrusts before slumping on top of Sunstorm, giving the seeker a possessive kiss.

Jazz looked away as Sentinel began cleaning Sunstorm up, cheeks burning from rage. Taking advantage of any prisoner was wrong and against regulations. He wanted to report Sentinel, but the Prime always seemed to find a way to dodge disciplinary action. He remained hidden until Sunstorm was placed back in a cell and Sentinel left the brig.

“I’m so sick of this slag,” Jazz mumbled to himself. “I really need to get a transfer.”

Title: Unlikely Help
Pairing: Bumblebee/Ultra Magnus
Rating: PG
Warnings: angst, AU, slash
Summary: (Takes place during Autoboot Camp) Bumblebee is about to get help from a surprising source.

Bumblebee twitched nervously as he stood outside an Intel office. Being called away from boot camp usually meant immediate discharge, at least according to the circulating rumors.

“No point in delaying the inevitable,” Bumblebee sadly sighed.

Stepping through the sliding door, he gasped. Ultra Magnus was sitting behind a desk, smiling at him. He never imagined meeting such a legendary bot.

“Please, take a seat,” Ultra Magnus stated. “We have much to discuss.”

Bumblebee sat down, shaking harder as the larger mech eyed him over.

“Do you know why I’ve called you here?” Ultra Magnus asked.

Bumblebee lowered his helm, avoiding optic contact.

“I’ve received some rather…disturbing reports from Sentinel Minor about your conduct,” Ultra Magnus sighed, spreading out tons of datapads on his desk. “He’s given you…extremely low marks on these reports.”

Bumblebee wanted to yell out in his defense, but his vocalizer failed to work.

“After reading through all these…I’ve come to the conclusion that Sentinel Minor is…exaggerating,” Ultra Magnus stated.

Bumblebee stammered, “W--What?”

“Sentinel Minor is a good bot at spark…but he has a nasty habit of belittling those he views as a threat,” Ultra Magnus sighed.

“A…threat?” Bumblebee inquired. “I don’t understand.”

Ultra Magnus smirked. “I’ve watched several of your training videos. You have the potential to be a great solider.”

“T--Thank you sir,” Bumblebee murmured, spark swelling from the praise.

“I will be having a long talk with Sentinel Minor about his…teaching methods,” Ultra Magnus growled. “I’ve also seen the torment you’ve endured from certain bots. I’ll put a stop to that.”

“I’m grateful…for you help, sir, but why?” Bumblebee asked.

“Because I know what it’s like to be treated like slag,” Ultra Magnus replied.

“Y--You?” Bumblebee gasped. “I find that hard to believe.”

Ultra Magnus laughed. “There’s always someone bigger, stronger, and ready to rub it in your faceplates.” His optics darkened. “I had a horrible drill instructor in boot camp…constantly told me that I would amount to nothing. He often looked the other way when the other bots I trained with beat the scrap out of me. It was a horrifying experience, and I vowed that no other bot would suffer the same way I did.” He rose up from the desk and strode over to Bumblebee, kneeling in front of the smaller mech. “When I watched those training videos, I saw myself in you.”

“I’m…sorry that it brought back painful memories, sir,” Bumblebee muttered.

Ultra Magnus shook his helm. “Don’t be. I needed to see it. It’s time to add more rules…a code of conduct…to boot camp. Abuse is unacceptable.” Smiling warmly, he handed Bumblebee a small datapad. “This contains my comm signal. Store it and use it whenever you need to talk.”

“Sir…thank you…for everything,” Bumblebee murmured, smiling back at the larger mech. “Thank you…for giving me a chance to prove myself.”

Gently cupping Bumblebee’s cheek, thumb brushing over the yellow mech’s plump lips, Ultra Magnus found it hard to resist leaning in and capturing those soft, inviting lips in a searing kiss. “I look forward to you joining the ranks of the Elite Guard, Bumblebee.”

After so many weeks of rough treatment, the gentle caress felt amazing, and Bumblebee nuzzled his face into the larger mech’s palm. “And I look forward to working alongside you, Ultra Magnus, sir.”

Title: Grim Defeat
Pairing: Ultra Magnus/Shockwave
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: anal, AU, dark, gore, implied death, non-con, slash, squick, sticky, torture, violence
Summary: (Alternate scene during Where is Thy Sting?) Ultra Magnus never lost a fight. That’s about to change.

Searing, tearing agony ripped through Ultra Magnus’s sensors as he fell to the floor in a twitching heap. His left arm was severed, and his shoulder was caved in. When he tried to sit back up, his assailant, Shockwave, let out a cruel laugh and slammed his own hammer into the side of his face. Metal crunched under the force and a second blow shattered the left side of his face, optical glass breaking open. Oil and energon dripped from his wounds, and he groaned in pain.

“I must commend you, Ultra Magnus,” Shockwave cackled. “Despite all the pain…you have yet to scream.” He scowled when the mech spat oil near his pedes. “How brave…and foolish.”

Shockwave rammed the massive hammer into the commander’s chassis, chestplates bursting open from impact, exposing the mech’s pulsing spark. Ultra Magnus trembled in terror as the hammer skimmed over his spark, but he still didn’t scream.

“Aw…are you giving me the silent treatment, oh great Supreme Commander?” Shockwave taunted. “I’ll make you scream…long and hard.”

Ultra Magnus squirmed and gritted what was left of his dentals as Shockwave’s sharp talons tore into his pelvic armor, metal giving way with a sickening pop, revealing his cable and port to the double agent. “N--No…w--what…w--what…a--are…y--you…d--doing?!”

“Oh…my poor Magnus,” Shockwave cooed. “Is your vocalizer short-circuiting?” He pressed a sharp finger against the mech’s cracked, bleeding lips. “Save your energy, dear one. You’re going to need it.”

Flipping the hammer around, Shockwave shoved the tip of the handle into Ultra Magnus’s port. The blunt, wide tip tore through Ultra Magnus’s internal wiring, causing the mech to arch and hiss. He couldn’t get his legs to function, and he clawed at the floor in a desperate attempt to crawl away, but to no avail. He clawed even harder as the handle drove deeper, fingers eventually busting from the pressure he was applying on them. He gagged in disgust when the handle withdrew and slammed back in.

“Still no screams?” Shockwave mused. “Most bots would be sobbing for mercy by now…but not you. I hate to admit it, but you’re a strong one.” He leaned in closer, red optic narrowing. “I. Will. Break. You.” The hammer sparked with electricity, making Ultra Magnus buck and gurgle in agony. “I. Will. Make. You. Scream. Autobot.”

The handle jammed further in and spasms overtook Ultra Magnus as he felt the length pass through his abdomen, rupturing his fueling tanks, oil rising to his throat.

“Hmm…it’s going in so deep,” Shockwave murmured, “but I bet I can force it even deeper.”

Static erupted from Ultra Magnus’s vocalizer as the splitting agony intensified. He still refused to scream, to give the Decepticon the smug satisfaction of hearing his pain, but his willpower was diminishing with each painful push of the hammer.

“Oohh, I can see the tip of the handle through your chassis,” Shockwave chuckled.

Shockwave grabbed the back of Ultra Magnus’s helm, forcing him to look down through the gapping hole in his chestplates. He vomited oil at the sight of the handle tip resting underneath his azure spark. More oil spurted from his mouth as the blunt metal prodded his spark, one optic widening in horror.

Shockwave laughed evilly. “Don’t worry, sweet Magnus. I won’t impale your spark…all the way.”

True to Shockwave’s threat, Ultra Magnus let out a piercing scream that rang throughout the room as the handle pierced his spark. The pain was unbearable, and he prayed for release, even if it meant death. He let out another scream, laced with static, as Shockwave’s servo wiggled, causing the hammer handle to swish back and forth within his spark.

“I wonder what your precious Autobot followers would think of their Supreme Commander being broken and violated by a Decepticon?” Shockwave mocked. “So weak…pathetic. A shame you won’t be around to watch your irritating brethren eradicated.”

The handle pushed deeper, and a low gurgling emitted from Ultra Magnus as his right optic gradually dimmed to sheer black. Shockwave backed away, admiring his handiwork. Before exiting the room, he took a few photos, storing them within his CPU, knowing that Megatron and other Decepticons would love to look at them. He decided to leave the hammer impaled inside Ultra Magnus. He could only imagine the horrified expressions on the bots who stumbled across their broken, beloved commander.

Title: Underestimating the Prey
Pairing: Grimlock/Lockdown
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: anal, AU, non-con, rimming, slash, sticky
Summary: Lockdown makes a mistake.

From a safe distance, camouflaged among the trees, Lockdown watched as Grimlock sparred with Swoop and Snarl. For several Earth weeks, he had been monitoring Grimlock’s actions, trying to find any weaknesses. So far, there were none. The large mech was a powerhouse, but Lockdown wasn’t worried. He had taken on worse and walked away with barely a scratch. The mods on Grimlock, the massive fire sword and even flame breath, had caught Lockdown’s attention and were too tempting to pass up. He was currently waiting for the opportune moment to strike, and he smirked evilly when Swoop and Snarl darted off into the woods in fright from Grimlock, now roaring in triumph.

Staying in camouflage, Lockdown stalked Grimlock, readying his chainsaw and electric nets. When he was in striking distance, he launched the nets, which snared Grimlock and sparked with painful jolts of electricity. Snarling in agony and fury, Grimlock easily tore through the netting and swung his sword wildly. Lockdown gasped in shock. He had underestimated Grimlock’s strength.

“Who dares attack me, Grimlock?!” the tyrannosaurus rex bellowed.

Lockdown grunted as a blow struck his abdomen, sending him crashing into a tree, wood splintering into the air from the force of impact. An agitated growl rose in his vocalizer as his camouflage mod shorted out, revealing himself to the infuriated mech. Visor flaring bright blue, Grimlock charged at him, sword swinging at his helm. Lockdown dodged the blow by ramming his chainsaw into the sword, metal grinding loudly. They continued to slash at one another, but neither could land a debilitating blow. The infuriated expression on Grimlock’s faceplates vanished, replaced with elation.

“What are you smiling about?!” Lockdown snarled.

Grimlock laughed. “Spiked-bot is great, strong fighter! Me, Grimlock, not have this much fun in long time!” His jagged mouth formed into a leer. “Spiked-bot has nice aft. Spiked-bot worthy of being Grimlock’s mate.”

“W--What?!” Lockdown snapped. “You’re slaggin’ glitched!”

Lockdown hadn’t been expecting this type of reaction, and it unnerved him. He needed to escape and re-think his strategy concerning Grimlock. As he turned to flee, Grimlock grabbed a discarded net and tossed it toward his legs, tangling his pedes together, falling hard to the ground in agony as electricity coursed through his circuitry. He became groggy and shifted weakly as he felt a firm weight settle on his backside. Warnings flashed in his CPU as his pelvic and aft armor were torn off, letting out a gurgled whine of pain. The pain instantly passed when slick warmth spread over his port, slowly easing deeper within him.

“Ungh…ahh,” Lockdown moaned, squirming as Grimlock fondled his cable, bringing his length to hardness. “Stop…ahhh….stop!”

“Hmm…Spiked-bot tastes good,” Grimlock murmured, lapping his lubricant stained dentals. “Spiked-bot getting wet. Spiked-bot doesn’t want me, Grimlock, to stop. Spiked-bot wants more.”

“Ngh…ah…ahhh! No!” Lockdown screamed. “Slag! Gahhh!!”

Grimlock’s searing girth rammed into his port, sensors flaring from the tearing sensation. He loved pain, giving or receiving, and Grimlock was currently giving it to him good. The burning glide of rigid metal on his internal wiring was exquisite, and he couldn’t resist rocking back into Grimlock’s violent thrusts, trying to get the massive plug to plunge deeper, pleasure clouding his judgment. Rough bites were being delivered all over his back, marring his metal skin, eventually focusing in on the sensitive spikes, licking and nipping the pointed metal.

“Slag! Ah!” Lockdown cried out, servo and hook tearing up the dirt. “Frag me! Frag me, damn it!”

“Ngh! Spiked-bot feels so good!” Grimlock growled. He roughly pulled out and flipped Lockdown over, slamming back in with such force the ground beneath caved in. “Spiked-bot belongs to me, Grimlock!”

Clarity started to return to Lockdown’s processor. He didn’t like that statement. He belonged to no one.

“Spiked-bot will produce many strong sparklings for me, Grimlock,” the tyrannosaurs rex cooed, claws prying at Lockdown’s chassis.

Lockdown really didn’t like that statement. He had no desire to carry or give birth to sparklings. In a panic, he drew back his pedes and viciously kicked at Grimlock, hitting the larger mech in the chassis and abdomen. Grunting in pain, Grimlock staggered back, and he let out an agonized howl when a harsh kick landed on his cable, doubling over to the ground in a writhing heap. Lockdown quickly rose up and bolted for his ship, hobbling along the way from the ache in his aft. He made a vow to return to the island and offline Grimlock, slowly and painfully, for this humiliation.

Title: Revenge
Pairing: Swindle/Bumblebee
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: AU, non-con, slash, spank
Summary: It’s payback time.

Bumblebee sighed as he ducked into an alleyway. After having another heated argument with Prowl, one about not invading personal space during meditation, he decided it would be best to leave the base for a bit. As he rounded the corner, he was suddenly grabbed and slammed, face first, against a wall. In a flash, his arms were wrenched behind his back, servos cuffed in place, and when he opened his mouth to scream, something metallic snapped over his lips, silencing him. Warm breath cascaded on the back of his neck, causing him to shiver, and he let out a muffled squeak as a slick, soft glossa trailed over his neck cables.

“Long time no see, Bumblebee,” a voice cooed.

Bumblebee shivered harder when he recognized the voice of his assailant. Swindle.

“It’s been a while since our last encounter,” Swindle growled, “and I’ve just been dying to pay you back for getting me frozen in vehicle mode.” He bit down on Bumblebee’s shoulder, eliciting a pained whimper as the metal was dented. “Do you know what those humans were going to do to me? They were going to strip me down and sell me for spare parts! Me!” He swatted Bumblebee’s aft, causing the smaller mech to jerk and hiss. “Luckily, for me, the effects of that timepiece wore off. Hmm…but I guess it’s not so lucky for you.” He reached around Bumblebee’s hip, kneading the mech’s groin, grinning cruelly as the bot’s legs clenched in an attempt to keep him out. “Ready to take your punishment like a good little bot?”

Letting out a muffled curse, Bumblebee slammed the back of his helm into Swindle’s face, causing the arms dealer to stumble back with a shout of pain. Bumblebee sprinted from the alley. He couldn’t transform due to the stassis cuffs, which were also interfering with his comm signal. He was slagged if he couldn’t make it back to the base, and his worst fears became reality when he was tackled roughly to the ground, screaming into the metal gag as violent slaps rained down on his aft.

“Naughty little bot,” Swindle growled, slamming his servo even harder, denting metal. “Hmm? What’s that you’re saying Bumblebee? You don’t want to ‘face in the dark alley? You want to ‘face out in the middle of the street where humans and camera-bots could stumble across us?”

Bumblebee wailed in horror and frantically shook his helm, thrashing wildly to escape. Firm servos grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him hard, startling him awake. He was back at the base, on the couch in front of the big screen TV showing static, with Prowl standing over him. Bumblebee blinked and let out a heavy sigh.

“You were screaming in recharge,” Prowl murmured. “I thought it would be best to wake you.”

“T--Thanks, Prowl,” Bumblebee sighed. “I owe you one.”

The ninjabot gave Bumblebee a puzzled look and turned away, disappearing down the hall. Bumblebee rose from the couch and headed toward his room, praying he wouldn’t have any more nightmares about a vengeful arms dealer and making a mental note to talk with Fanzone in the morning to make sure said arms dealer was still incarcerated.

Title: Oil, Drills, and Prowl
Pairing: Scrapper/Prowl
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: anal, AU, rimming, slash, sticky, toys
Summary: (Sometime after Human Error Part 2) Smut. Smut. Smut.

Scrapper watched, licking his lips, as dark oil poured over Prowl’s aft, trickling over the ninjabot’s naked port, trailing lower to stain cream colored thighs. The now empty oil can in Prowl’s servo was tossed aside, and he wiggled his aft in a tantalizing manner, grinning sheepishly at Scrapper.

“Up for a drink?” Prowl asked.

Grinning wickedly, Scrapper flicked his glossa over Prowl’s aft in teasing swipes, cleaning up the tangy oil. Prowl squirmed and whined as Scrapper’s glossa skimmed close to his port and then moved lower to tickle his inner thighs. Lubricant soon trickled from Prowl’s opening as his frame grew hotter from each soft lick. Scrapper eagerly lapped away the lubricant, but he still avoided the one area that Prowl wanted touched the most.

“You want my glossa inside your port?” Scrapper murmured.

“Yes! Please!” Prowl cried, driven wild by the constant teasing.

“Hmm…no,” Scrapper chuckled, wrapping one arm firmly around Prowl’s waist, keeping the ninjabot steady for what he was planning next, “but don’t worry, gorgeous. I’ve something even better for you…something I’ve wanted to try on you for a long time.”

A low whirring noise made Prowl gulp. “W--What are you doing?”

“Trust me, gorgeous, you’ll enjoy this,” Scrapper cooed.

With his servo transformed into a drill, set on low, Scrapper slowly pushed the tip of the vibrating appendage into Prowl.

“Oh Primus!” Prowl wailed, rocking back into the drill. “Deeper! Deeper! Please!”

The smug grin on Scrapper’s faceplates turned predatory as lubricant splattered over him as he carefully worked his drill further within Prowl. He never imaged Prowl would react so beautifully and lustfully to his touches. His cable was throbbing painfully within his armor, longing to bury himself in Prowl’s snug, warm body, but he could resist his own needs for a while longer. He was enjoying Prowl’s wanton moans and cries too much to stop now.

“Yeah…let me hear you moan,” Scrapper panted into Prowl’s audio. “Tell me how much you need this….how much you need me.”

“Ungh! Ah!!” Prowl screamed. “Please! More! Scrapper! Please!”

“You’re so tight…ngh…going to squeeze my drill off,” Scrapper groaned as he started slamming his drill into Prowl. “I want to feel you around my cable.”

“Oh! Yes! I want you inside me!” Prowl whimpered. “I want your cable! Please!”

Turning off his drill and easing it from Prowl, Scrapper rolled the ninjabot over, gasping and shuddering when the smaller mech grabbed his lubricant stained drill and began licking away the fluid, dentals grazing the sensitive ridges. That sight alone nearly made him overload, and it took every bit of diminishing willpower to keep his arousal in check.

“What are you waiting for?” Prowl taunted, nibbling the tip of the drill. “Shove it in me…or are you not…bot enough?”

Baring his dentals in a fierce growl, Scrapper rammed into Prowl and then jolted awake from something nudging his shoulder. The Constructicon groaned as his optics flickered online, greeted by the sight of Snarl, in dinosaur mode, holding a tree branch in his mouth, tail wagging enthusiastically.

“Are you slaggin’ kiddin’ me?!” Scrapper snapped, rubbing his brow.

Yanking the branch away, he mock threw it, and Snarl took off. Once Snarl was out of sight, Scrapper tossed the branch aside, knowing the Dinobot wouldn’t be back for a long time. He laid back down and offlined his optics, hoping to have more sweet dreams of the beautiful ninjabot. Maybe one day he’d make those dreams a reality.

End
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