Compairing Notes | By : anonfeather Category: Transformers > G1 > Slash - M/M Views: 1321 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformer, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Title: Comparing Notes (Part 1)
Rating: M/NC-17
Pairing/Characters: Motormaster/Scrapper, Hook
Disclaimer: Not mine. Belongs to Hasbro
Universe: G1
Warning: Consensual turning to Non-Con, Violent rape, bukkake, some hurt/comfort
Summary: Motormaster uses interfacing to assert himself over his gestalt-mates, and is surprised to find out that Scrapper doesn't. Motormaster volunteers to show him how he keeps his team in-check.
Author's Note: Prompt taken from the TF Kink Meme. Here's the complete prompt:
http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/10462.html?thread=9379806#t9379806 . Also, the rape scene isn't enjoyable. It's painful and degrading. Quotes expressed by the characters are not the author's opinion. Final note, this was un-betaed. Decided to post it anyway.. Haven't been active on my journal. Don't think I'm dead.
OoOoOoO
Lately the in-fighting between the different groups had become unbearable. The last mission failed lamentably because an argument exploded between Brawl, Bonecrusher and Wildrider. Corporal punished was swiftly administered by Megatron. However, the animosity didn't die down.
A new strategy was established. Once an orn, the gestalt leaders would meet and discuss the different issues that occurred. Then, they would each take the necessary measures to fix the situation. So far, the meetings have been inconclusive. Each time they meet, Soundwave, the meeting manager, was called away for an emergency. The three gestalt leaders were directionless for the following hour until they left without saying a word to each others.
This time, Soundwave managed to broach the subject of discipline before the Command Centre required his presence. He excused himself for the inconvenience and asked them to still participate in a discussion.
Moments after the door closed, Onslaught stood up and made his way to the door.
"Hey!" Growled Motormaster. "We aren't supposed to leave. Soundwave told us we had to share how we discipline our troops!"
"I have no need of your methods. I've got my own ways and this talk is just wasting my time." Onslaught turned on his heels and walked away without a second thought. Motormaster was annoyed and shook with pent up anger.
"Damn slagger! Are you going to bail as well?!" He questioned roughly towards Scrapper. The Constructicon shook his head.
"Knowing Soundwave, the room is under surveillance. For the moment, I prefer staying on good term with him." Scrapper replied calmly. "Besides, I also dislike the rivalry our teammates have developed. I'd prefer if the upcoming operations go smoothly from now on." Motormaster contemplated the words and sharply nodded.
"Fine. Good. So talk."
Scrapper shrugged. "My teammates are well-behaved. Performance evaluations are done periodically and if they need improvement, I inform them. They then strive to work harder and get a better rating on the next evaluation."
Motormaster stayed stoic at the explanation, but quickly lost it cool and exclaimed: "What a load of slag. You expect me to believe that works?!"
Scrapper bristled at the comment. He felt like answering on the same tone, but calmed down first. He did a quick introspection of his method and bowed his head in defeat. "The method has been lacking, lately. They'll nod at the warning, then ignored it the following day. And this has never worked on Hook. He always believes he's above any order I give."
"I ain't surprised. You've got nothing over them."
"I have their respect."
"That ain't enough. You got to show them who's the boss. You've got to assert yourself."
"And, pray tell, how do you do that?" Scrapper was dubious that Motormaster's method would work on his Constructicons. The Stunticons were unruly bunch and needed a firm hand. Whereas the Constructicons were (mostly) educated and such uncouth way would be counterproductive. Still, Scrapper was willing to learn, just in-case something good might come out of it.
"I frag them until they submit."
"Excuse me?"
Motormaster repeated himself. Scrapper gave him a blank stare in response.
"By the pit, don't tell me I have to explain the nuts and bolts to you?! Or are you just prude?"
Motormaster's disbelief was insulting. "I know of the mechanics of interfacing! I just don't see how you can apply that to team discipline."
A dark smirk appeared on the Stunticon's faceplate. "Best way to understand would be by showing you, then."
Scrapper shivered with unease by Motormaster's predatory look. He never understood the interest in interfacing or even self-service. He found it took too much time in one's schedule and never tried it. Maybe this was the sort of thing he should know to connect with his subordinates. He maintained a straight face before agreeing to the lesson. "Alright. Show me."
"Remember, you asked for it," sneered Motormaster. The larger mech stood up, and strode behind his fellow Decepticon. Scrapper twisted around to see what the other was doing.
"Don't turn around! Keep your eyes focused in front of you!" Motormaster barked. Doing as told, Scrapper returned his gazed to the chair left vacant in front of him. Motormaster stalked behind him, heavy pedes thundering on the ground. He felt a growing anxiety of not knowing what the other was doing.
"Good bot. You're obedient."
"Don't treat me like a turbo-puppy," Scrapper said. A swift punch behind his head took him by surprise. The large black servo kept him pinned on the table, his chair thrown askew across the room.
"I didn't give you permission to speak!"
"S-Slagger," he croaked. "What's your glitching problem?" Another hit answered his question. Motormaster's burning frame kept him well in place. He could understand that if this was interfacing then it was a good punishment method.
"Don't talk back to me, you filthy fragment!"
"Let go! I get how you punish your mechs now. Get off." Scrapper used his most authoritarian tone. When he spoke this way, the Constructicons knew he meant business and they would scamper off to their assigned task. Motormaster didn't move away. If nothing else, he got closer, grinding himself against the struggling mech. "Pit-spawn, let go of me!"
"Oh, I think not. I think it's best if you know how my team works. Maybe we'll understand each other better from now on?" No hesitation stopped Motormaster's hand from digging inside Scrapper's back transformation seam. His thick digits dug inside and the seam started to split open by the force. Bent outwards, Motormaster pulled the plating off and grabbed the sensitive wiring underneath.
Scrapper howled in pain and tried to buck the stronger mech off. "Glitch! Get off! You'll regret it, I swear."
"I'd like to see you try." Scoffed Motormaster as he twisted the wires. The larger mech obviously knew what he pulled, as Scrapper felt his strength being sapped. He felt heavy and wanted to crumble to the ground. Only Motormaster's frame was holding him up against the table. "Now, how about you start being obedient again and open your interface hatch."
Even if Scrapper wanted to cooperate he had no idea what command to use. Seeing as he always steered clear from interface, he never thought it necessary to know the codes to his hatch. During maintenance, he always had Hook use a medical port to override it. With this encounter he came to the realisation that he was right to stay away from it.
"Get off! Get off! I don't want to open it. I don't want to know your methods anymore. I don't want to interface."
"Too bad. You agreed earlier. Can't take it back. Verbal contracts are just as valid as signed ones." Motormaster had a dark glint in his optics as he added the next sentence.
Scrapper froze because of the last comment. His core coding forced him to accept that they indeed had an agreement. He refused to acknowledge it, and wished to fight against Motormaster. But for a Constructicon breaking a contract was unacceptable. Maybe they could reach a different agreement.
"Be reasonable Motormaster. You'll achieve nothing if you pursue your actions. You'll get my contempt. My team will target you and your teammates. Let's part ways now, and never speak of this again."
"No," Motormaster replied by squeezing the sensitive components in Scrapper's back. A black servo started palming the never used interface hatch. "I'm actually getting a lot of satisfaction at seeing you squirm. Now, again, open up before I tear it off. I'm giving you to the count of five. By the way, just in case you didn't know that zone is quite sensitive. Forcing it off your frame will be, from what I'm seen on my teammates, incredibly painful."
"I can't open it!"
"One," called Motormaster. His digits scratched the surface.
"I don't know how!"
"Two. Honestly, I don't care if you open it or not. When it's gone, I'm plunging into to your untouched frame." He started digging at the seam, getting a good hold to yank it away. Scrapper tried to twist out of the way, but to no avail. The Stunticon leader hadn't even removed it and it was already causing unknown pain.
"Stop it. Don't!"
"Three. My teammates always refused to open up the first time too. Now, they get one look from me and they immediately spread open. That's what I called disciplined. Four."
Scrapper bit his bottom lip to avoid a whimper of panic to escape. He heard an unfamiliar snick sound coming from behind. Soon, a warm and moist object was pressing against his interface hatch. It was poking the stretched seam that Motormaster held. It was sickening and Scrapper knew that it would soon penetrate his valve.
Instead of counting the five, Motormaster ripped off the plating covering the sensitive area. Scrapper didn't have time to register that pain seeing as he was violently stretched by an eager spike. Fully seated Motormaster let out a pleasant groan. "Nothing works better at breaking a mech than by breaking his seals."
He pulled out, energon caking the stiff cable.
"Y-you've proved your point. Stop now." He refused to add please. He wouldn't stoop that low.
Motormaster replied by jamming the spike deep inside. "You're lucky, you're a bleeder. Makes the following thrust easier. I've been thinking of adding a barb for those that don't bleed enough." Energon kept coating Motormaster's spike and on each thrust rivulets ran down Scrapper's legs.
"That's horrible..." Scrapper managed to gasp out.
"They'll think twice before crossing me." Scrapper gave an involuntary nod. He didn't want to be here anymore. He wished to be left alone. If he thought hard enough, he could convince himself he was at his desk, working on a new project. Megatron wished to have a new weapon built that would stun the Autobots silent.
"Oh, trying to escape are we?" taunted Motormaster as he noticed the absent look. Scrapper had stopped struggling and lied limply, allowing Motormaster to finish unhindered. "Think I'll let you do that?"
Motormaster disengaged from his victim, letting him fall to the ground. He picked him up by the jaw and lifted until his face was levelled with his bloodied spike.
"Take of your faceplate. Don't and I do the same thing I did with your interface hatch."
Unresisting, Scrapper sent the command to let his work mask fall. "Open that pretty little mouth of yours now. If you want this to end faster, work for it."
The spike blindly jabbed at his uncovered lips, trying to find entry. The last comment inspired an idea of revenge. Denta could apply frighting pressure. He complied with the order. However instead of getting a mouthful of spike, Motormaster tsked.
"Really, you think that I'm not aware that you'll try to bite it off?" Three large digits held the mouth open in such a way that Scrapper was unable to close it anymore. "There."
Unbothered by Scrapper's refusing whines, Motormaster pushed deep inside the mouth. Scrapper tried to shrug him off. But the same digits that kept his mouth open didn't allow him a lot of movement. Scrapper choked and had to use his secondary ventilation system to cool down his overclocked systems. Motormaster seemed to appreciate the reaction.
"Oh, yes. Good, take it all in." He pressed in deep, pulled out and thrust back inside. He moaned each time his spike hit the back of Scrapper's throat. When he got close to his overload, he removed himself from the abused mouth and finished off using his servo. He made sure to splatter his transfluid on Scrapper's visor. When his spike was completely milked, he added insult to injury as he spread the stains with his depressurizing spike.
Scrapper stayed stilled, not saying a word or expressing any complaint. He wished this encounter to finish and had no desire to antagonise the other mech.
Finally, he retracted his spike to his housing. "The hour's up. If you ever need another lesson, I'll gladly repeat everything." Motormaster's dark tone caused Scrapper to shiver in disgust. He only had one desire which was to get cleaned and fixed. He waited for Motormaster to leave the room before attempting an exit. Automatically, he fled to the medbay. Hook might be there, his meeting with Megatron should be over. Even if he wasn't there, Scrapper could use the medbay's cleaning supply. In fact, it would be better if the place was empty. He felt deep shame from the current event.
He entered the medbay and gratefully thanked Primus for Hook's absence. He limped towards the storage locker, stumbling upon a medical berth in his haste. His back was in pain from the torn plating, but it was his crotch area that had the most excruciating pain. Shock had allowed him to travel fast in the hallways. Now panic was hindering his progress to get the revolting evidence off of him.
He took more steps toward the locker, only to hit a tray that was sent clattering on the floor. The noisy fall of the medical equipment pounded in Scrapper's processor.
"What in Primus' name is going on there?!" Scrapper heard Hook. The voice startled Scrapper and felt like one of those earth mammals stuck dumb in front of a headlight. An instant later his teammate was in full view. "Slag the pit-- Scrapper? What happened?"
"Nothing. I need to get washed," Scrapper replied disoriented. He didn't make a move in either direction. He felt the medic analyse his current status.
"More than that. Come on now, sit." Hook took one of his leader's servo and gently guided him toward the berth. He pulled out a cloth and quickly swiped the stains that caked Scrapper's maskless face. There was no doubt that it was transfluid. Further analyse would confirm who.
A quick scan showed Hook that none of the wounds was life-threatening, but they definitely needed to be treated immediately.
"H-how was your meeting with Megatron," Scrapper asked. He tried to sound professional, but it came out distant.
"Frag, this isn't time for that kind of talk! Get your legs in the stirrups. Like a maintenance visit." Scrapper lagged, but followed the order. From the look at the forcefully removed interface plate, Hook realised he wouldn't need to do an analysis of the transfluid. This was the work of Motormaster. He remembered having treated all of the smaller Stunticons with similar condition.
"The fragging slagger," he muttered under his breath. He got to work, cleaning the spoiled energon and adding a numbing gel. "Why didn't you fight back?!" Hook blamed. Then part of him regretted such harsh word. He tried again: "Why didn't you call us?" Scrapper stayed silent, in shame. "Scrapper!"
"It was my fault. We were talking about how we punished our teams. He said he did it by using interfacing. I didn't understand how it could be possible. I'm not knowledgeable in that area. So I asked him to show me."
"So you let yourself get raped?"
"Rape?" Scrapper puzzled at the word. "It wasn't. I agreed to it. It was interface."
Hook shook his head in disbelief by the words his teammate was muttering. Scrapper was a mech that always overworked himself. He never took the time to socialize to discover the joy of interfacing. The rest of the Constructicons often fooled around with each other. In the past, when their gestalt was still young, they tried inviting their leader to join in. But he always barked replies of having work to do. They came to the agreement that Scrapper wasn't interested in it and they stopped asking. Pestering their leader too much on the subject caused Scrapper to double their workload. If they had enough time to waste for social interaction, then they needed more work, was the reasoning.
"Damn it, mech, I doubt you agreed to this! That's not how interface works. If it was, you'd think we'd keep doing it?"
"Motormaster enjoyed it."
"He's a sick glitch, that's why!" Hook grumbled. He carefully spread the folds of Scrapper's valve, working to stop the bleeding. He felt regret seeing the previously untouched valve so torn. "Really Scrapper, how could you have been so stupid to go through with it."
Scrapper tried to find the best answer to give Hook to placate him. "I felt that it would be a good method to lead you better. I know you all take part of social interfacing. If I knew more about it, I could--"
"Join us?" Hook asked.
"Perform better as a leader."
"You know you could've asked any of us to enlighten you."
"Doesn't matter. I know what it's all about now." Scrapper grew pensive which caused Hook to work in silence.
"I did the most I could for your valve. It'll have to heal on its own. I'll build you a new cover later. Now, turn around; let me take a look at your back."
Scrapper didn't argue and allowed the medic to fix the wires and solder his frame. Hook worked silently and took a mental note to evaluate his leader's psych in the coming days. Maybe the awful encounter he had with Motormaster wouldn't affect him. If it does, then Hook was prepared to take measures into his servo to help rehabilitate his gestalt leader.
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