Freedom
Universe: Prime
Pairings: MegatronusxOC!Fatale
Rating: R/MA+
Description: "My Sire says that a literate mech is a free mech." Megatronus never thought the words of a sparkling, barely old enough to fly would stick with him for so long. He also never thought he would ever see her again once she was grown or fall in love.
Freedom
Why he brought his sparkling to work, I'll never understand. She was barely old enough to fly by herself let alone be inside the gladiator Pits while he worked with Ringmaster. And, of course, as the youngest gladiator, I was made to sparkling-sit the little seeker brat. Her wings were brand new with a pristine paintjob of black and red and perfectly buffed so that they sparkled in the lights. She had the most expensive body credits could buy with an aristocratic faceplate, beautiful carved limbs and the newest elevated platform pedes on the market. She was Sire's little doll and she screamed credits when she merely walked.
I tried not to feel discontent toward the little femme but it was hard when my own metal was dented, scratched and scorched. I wouldn't get a check-up until I won my tenth battle (I was on my fourth) so until then, I was on my own. I wouldn't get my red optics until my twentieth won battle and I wouldn't get new armor until my thirtieth won battle. She would have everything given to her on a silver platter; she would never have to work a day in her life.
"Gladiator, sir!" I jump when a small servo pats the side of my leg. My optics glance down at the little sparkling as she holds out the datapad she had been reading from. "What's this word?"
I roll my optics at her, pushing the datapad away. "I can't read, brat."
She stares up at me for a few moments and I can't help but notice the calculations going on behind those bright lights. For some reason, I could see intelligence in her faceplate, way past that of a sparkling her age. "Can't read?" she mutters, more to herself than to me.
"That's right, we don't learn to read," I scoff, looking away from the femme. I jolt in shock as the girl climbs up onto my lap without a word. "Get off you little glitch!"
She ignores me and I'm tempted to dump her on the ground but think better of it. "I'll teach you!" she explains, pulling up a list of symbols that I recognized as letters. I had no clue what they were but I recognized them. "Let's start with letters!"
"Why would I take lessons from a pintsized sparkling?" I question, watching as she shifted in my lap to lean against one of my arms comfortably.
Her smile was more of a smirk and it unnerved me just a bit. "My Sire says that a literate mech is a free mech," is all she says before pointing at a letter and saying the name of it.
How could I argue with that? She had a point, a very valid point. They made sure all of us were kept illiterate for a reason, I just hadn't ever thought about it. This little sparkling spoke more sense than most adults. She wasn't too bad of a teacher, either, as she went through the letters with me and made me write them on the pad. Her Sire usually stayed in meetings for hours so we had plenty of time to waste and I couldn't help but wonder why we hadn't done this earlier. It was a much better way to spend my time than sitting around, bored.
I was so distracted that I nearly protested when she proceeded to climb down off of my lap. She placed a finger to her derma before sitting down a good distance away just as the door opened to show her Sire and Ringmaster. Shocked, I couldn't help but wonder how she had known they would be back at this point. I kept my faceplate stoic while standing respectfully to the owner of the coliseum.
He picked his sparkling up, hugging her tightly before walking out of the room. Her blue optics caught mine as she mouthed 'practice', at me. I stare at the little sparkling as she is carried out of the room.
I did practice though, whenever I got the chance. I would write in the dirt of my room, practicing my letters and saying them out loud when I was alone. The letters were easy to pick out on the signs around the coliseum even if I had no clue what they said. The days were long and tedious between matches as I waited for the end of the week when the owner would be back with his daughter.
She was back, right on time, and as soon as her Sire left, she was on my lap with the datapad, teaching me. We went over combinations of letters, how they sounded and what certain words looked like. I got the feeling she had been preparing this lesson the whole week because she had exercises for me to go through. Thankfully, I was as quick a learner as she was a teacher and by the end of the few hours we had, I was reading simple passages.
This went on for a full month before I was reading pretty fluently. She would bring a datapad, sit on my lap, and let me read aloud to her until her Sire got done. It was on one of these days that I was reading her a historical excerpt that the door opened without warning. We both looked up to find her Sire standing there, glaring down at me.
I was scrapped.
"Where did you learn to read, you slagger?" Ringmaster nearly shouts as he rushes over to get in my face. I wrap a protective arm around the little femme as she whimpers, huddling into my spark chamber.
"Ringmaster!" her Sire snaps softly, walking over to grab the sparkling out of my arms gently. "Not in front of my daughter!"
"Sorry, sir," he sputters, jerking back to look at me with an expression that would have killed me, were it possible.
"I taught him, Si-Si," the little femme whispers in a small vocalize that I had never hear her use. When I caught a glimpse of her faceplate, I was shocked at the shear intelligence that reflected through her optics. She was pretending and she was going to get me out of trouble.
"Fatale, I told you not to even talk to the gladiators," he soothes in a voice that expresses his disappointment but is also gentle. She bows her helm in apparent shame, fiddling with her fingers. "Why did you teach him to read?"
She looks up at him with her wide, blue optics. "I got bored waiting for you, Si-Si, and I like his voice so I wanted him to read to me," she admits, biting her lower derma with her small denta. It was a cute show and I couldn't help but hide the small smile that crept over my faceplate. She was playing her Sire like a tuned instrument; it was so easy for her.
He looks down at his daughter before his face eases. "Alright, I get the hint, sweet spark," he says in defeat. "I'll get someone to watch after you while I go to my meetings."
"What am I supposed to do with him?" Ringmaster asks, placing a denting servo on my shoulder.
"Si-Si, please don't hurt him! Punish me instead!" she cries, burying her faceplate in the owner's shoulder dramatically. I had to give it to the little monster, she knew how to act. She was too slagging smart for her own good and it was kind of scary.
He rolls his optics fondly at the little femme. "It's okay, Fatale, we won't hurt your friend," he soothes but sends a scolding look to Ringmaster. It was a look that I knew all too well. It was a warning and one that shouldn't be ignored.
"Promise?" she whispers, looking at her Sire pleadingly.
"Promise."
And that was that. I wasn't punished for it but warned that if I was ever caught reading again that I would be 'dealt with'. I knew what that meant, too well. The little femme was never brought back but I heard snips here and there about her as the years went by. Ringmaster was one of her biggest fans once she got her last upgrade.
"The things I would do to her," he would tell the top contender snidely.
I never saw her but I wondered how she was doing as I rose in the ranks from bottom to top. It wasn't long until I was finally number one. I started to smuggle as much reading material into my room as possible, especially things on history. It was fascinating to hear about society before the Quintesson war. I couldn't imagine a world where all mechs and femmes were equal. Those of us who were the lower-class were built the way we were for a reason; we did the manual work while the 'upper-class' did the jobs they were built for. It made sense, physically, that we should be doing the jobs we were but someone had gotten greedy and created a hierarchy.
The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to change the world. I was tired of being seen as less than a mech because of where I was born. I wanted the respect I deserved from the Cybertronians who came to my matches. They called me a lower-class citizen when all they wanted to see me do was destroy others just like me.
I devised a plan. It started out with just myself then I met Soundwave who had started climbing in the ranks until he was just under me in prowess and popularity. He was a silent, deadly mech but wickedly smart; he had taught himself how to read when he was a mere sparkling. I could imagine him and Fatale being a lot alike with their frighteningly intelligent optics. His talents were in communications, even though he said very little, and hacking, which he could do in mere seconds.
The two of us started putting together a plan.
It was sometime after we started planning that I heard about Fatale. She was going to one of the top schools on Cybertron, majoring in Business and Political Sciences. It seemed like she wanted to follow in her Sire's pede-steps and take over the family business even though she had plenty of younger brothers to bear that responsibility.
Then, her Creators died in a tragic accident.
"Madam, what brings you out here?" I hear Ringmaster ask outside my chamber door one day.
"I'm here for a tour," a sharp, commanding femme vocalizer states firmly. I can't help but set the datapad I am holding into its hiding spot before walking to the door. "Why are you blocking my way, Ringmaster? I am the owner of this business now and I will do as I will."
My door opened silently and I was shocked to find the two standing right in front of my room. I was about to say something until I looked down at the femme and I found my vocalizer broken. She was taller, much taller, with the same black, silver and red paintjob but with several differences. Her faceplate wasn't as aristocratic; no, instead, it was an average model now. It was still attractive but it wasn't expensive. Her body was slender, as a seeker should be, with delicate wings and a beautifully curved body.
Her optics still held a frightening intelligence as she looked at me and recognition dawned. "I know you," she drawls, turning to face me. One long, dangerously taloned servo went to perch on her cocked hip, making a naturally sexy picture. "You were my sitter back when I was a sparkling."
I ease my faceplate into a confidence smirk, leaning against the frame of my door. "You sure have changed since you were crawling up onto my lap," I say suggestively, wondering how long it would take for Ringmaster to blow a gasket. If I kept talking to her like this, it wouldn't be mere seconds.
She quirks an optic ridge just as suggestively before tilting her helm. "What's your designation, gladiator?" her voice was like silky high-grade. I could devour it all night.
"Megatronus," I offer a servo.
Her optics glance at the offering before her own, tiny, servo grasps mine in a surprisingly firm shake. "Fatale, perhaps, Megatronus, you can help me," she suggests before moving to stand at my side. Her servo wraps up under my arm to get a firm grip. "I would like a tour."
She left me no room to argue, had I wanted to. "You're just as bossy, I see," I comment before starting forward. "I'll take it from here, Ringmaster." The mech looks like he's about to blow that gasket but shifts so that we can get around him.
We round a corner before she looks behind her and heaves a heavy sigh. "Still a glitch-head I see," she mutters mockingly with a smirk.
I can't help but chuckle. "Surprised he was able to last this long?" I ask, leading her through the corridors until we get to a quiet, deserted area.
She scoffs in a very un-femme-like manner. "Please, he doesn't participate in the fights, lazy slagger," she comments harshly, pulling away from me to stand where she can look around.
"I've been wondering something," I finally say watching her as she looked at a picture on the wall. They were all over the corridors, pictures of old fights or of grand warriors who died in the heart of battle with their rival. It was a good way to romanticize a battle to the death. She glances my way but doesn't move from the picture. "Why did you teach me to read?"
Her faceplate twists into a nasty smirk but it isn't directed at me. "It was a bit of an experiment," she states honestly, crossing her slim arms over her spark chamber. Her optics were hazy, her processor in a far off place. "My Creators were constantly telling me that those in the Pit were stupid by nature. They would never be able to learn like I could because of my good breeding, basically."
I feel my spark clench in a surprising amount of anger. Her optics shift to catch mine and I can see my anger, my hatred, mirrored in her. She walked closer to me, placing a small servo on my spark chamber. "Sitting with you in that room, week after week, I became curious. You didn't seem like a stupid mech," she explains, running her fingers across my smooth armor. "I needed to know so I climbed up on your lap and the rest is history."
My servo covers hers. "Thank you, for teaching me," I tell her with a small smile. Her faceplate reddened with heat but she smiled back.
She pulled away after a few moments, staring off into space, thinking. "Things are going to change around here, Megatronus," she whispers, determination dripping from her words. "As soon as I graduate in three days, I'm going to announce my intent to run for Senate. I'm going to need a bodyguard." Her optics glint with mischief and I suddenly feel like a pawn in her games.
"I don't care where he is, Ringmaster, I want him here!" I snap, tapping my pede impatiently as the glitch-head stutters and rushes off to follow my order. I had seven hours before I needed to be at the banquet. It was a good month after my graduation and I was having it for all of my sponsors. Well, that's what I told myself but it was also my grand-Creators' attempt at finding me a proper mech to become involved with.
There were no mechs of the upper-class worth their slag. Pompous, self-centered and utterly useless when it came to intellectual conversations was what they were. Every time my grand-Creators found me a proper mech, it never surprised me when they nearly ran out of the house after I was done with them. They couldn't take my morbid, twisted humor nor could they keep up with my intellect. It was true, I was a little conceited and a tad bossy but there didn't seem to be a 'proper' mech that could handle me.
"Primus alive, what did you say to him?" I hear that rumbling voice ask as the door opens behind me. It makes all of the tension flow from my wires and cables. "I thought he was going to spring a leak!"
I turn around, laughing, to stare up at the gigantic mech. He looked like the Pit, yes, with all of his dents and scratches but his dark humor and no-nonsense attitude were a breath of fresh air. The weird part was that I had just seen him a few days ago…yet, I was so happy to see him. "I could tickle that glitch-head and he'd spring a leak in fear," I chuckle, patting the gladiator on the arm lightly. "You look like slag."
"It's nice to see you too," he teases, as I touch a scorch mark on his side.
Realizing what I was doing, I jerk my servo away and back up a step. "Are you ready to leave?" I clear my vents awkwardly. His optic ridge raises slightly but he nods his head. "Great, we need to get you buffed and cleaned for tonight."
"Buffed and cleaned?" he questions, following me as I walk out of the room toward the exit of the coliseum.
I roll my optics. "I told you, you're escorting me to a party tonight," I sigh playfully, smacking him with the back of my servo carelessly. He looks down at me skeptically but doesn't question it. "I have a reason, Megatronus, just trust me."
"I do," he says and the tone in his voice told me that he wasn't lying.
I ignore the churning of my spark as we walk into the light. We transform into our jet modes and head toward my house, well, mansion. It was a short fly from the coliseum before we easily landed in front of the wide doors. He reached forward to open one for me, which was unnecessary, but sweet, allowing me to walk into the house first.
"Welcome home, mist-" one of my maids stops cold when she watches Megatronus duck to get through the door behind me. "Oh, sweet Primus."
Rolling my optics, I gesture to the gladiator as he straightens to his full height. "Megatronus, this is one of my house staff, Windy," I introduce the two of them before walking past the stunned femme. "Get the large wash racks ready for Megatronus. We have seven hours and I need to buff and recalibrate his paint nanites."
"Mistress Fatale, we can do that for you," she finally shakes from her shock to offer.
I chuckle lightly, patting her on the shoulder. "I can do it, Windy, but thank you," I say before gesturing for the large mech to follow me. I hear her pede falls that tell me she is going to do as I told her before I look up at the out-of-place mech. "Sorry about the doors, we don't normally have someone of your…stature in our house."
He ducks to get into the next room before we are climbing the stairs towards my own personal level of the house. "I can tell," he grumbles before straightening again to look around the living area. His optics take in the large couch and he chuckles. "Small doors but large couches?"
I flush lightly. "I figured that since you'd be spending a lot of time here that you should have somewhere comfortable to sit," I mutter, walking across the room toward the closet where I kept all of my maintenance supplies. I turn back around with some things in my arms only to find the room empty. "Megatronus?"
Setting the supplies down, I turn to see one of my doors open. A smile slowly crosses my faceplate as I walk over to look at my personal library. It was the one thing I took the most pride in and Megatronus was in awe at the collection. All four walls were covered in shelves with datapads and servo-written materials alike stacked about.
"Like it?" I ask, watching him run his servo delicately across an old binding. Walking over, I take the book down and open it up. "It's a history book about the original Primes…one of my favorites." Looking up at him, I offer it. "Would you like to borrow it?"
He hesitates, something I wasn't used to seeing in him, before his servo tenderly takes the book. "I don't want to ruin it," he whispers, reading the title of the first chapter.
I couldn't help but feel my spark pound in awe at the look in his optics. He cherished something that the upper-class took for granted every day of their functions. He was so…handsome. Even with all of the dents and scratches I could see the intellect and wit behind the outer frame. "Please," I breathe, touching his servo. "I insist."
His red optics shift to catch mine and I find myself pinned by the shear appreciation shown there. My spark thunders in its chamber at the raw emotions in his faceplate. Then, heat spreads from my spark down into my panel. That…had never happened before.
"Mistress." I jump back in shock as Windy appears in the doorway. "The wash racks are ready for your guest."
"P-Perfect!" I try to hide my nervous twitch as I head toward the door. "Come on, let's get you looking nice for the banquet." I knew he had put the book into his subspace before Windy could see it so it was safe but I still felt a little uncomfortably warm in odd places.
I brought my supplies along and, much to the dismay of my staff, did all of the cleaning and primping on the mech. "I can do that myself," he tells me as I make him sit down on the floor of the wash racks under the running water.
"Shut up," I laugh, running a cloth over his dirty frame quickly. "I want to make sure you're spotless for tonight." He rolls his optics at me but relaxes into the pampering as I get into every crevice to clean him up from his helm to his waist. I stop, at a loss of what to do.
He smirks teasingly. "What? I thought you wanted to make sure I was spotless?" he mocks playfully, leaning back against his servos. His optics were full of humor but I couldn't help the warmth that soaked through me suddenly.
"Just do it!" I cover my discomfort with a laugh, throwing the rag at him. I let him finish cleaning the rest of his armor while I gathered the other things I would need to make him look nice and proper. He would look like an upper-class gentlemech by the time I was done with him, which was exactly my plan. Who would believe that a gladiator could look attractive when the dirt and battle marks were gone?
It took five hours to get him cleaned up. Without really looking at him, I sent him out of the racks to get myself ready with the help of Windy. "Mistress, I really think you should go with a brighter color tonight," Windy tries to convince me and I roll my optics. She was constantly trying to get me to go out in different colors but I liked my black, silver and red; they just seemed to fit me better. "How about white and gold? Those colors are very popular right now."
I nearly blanched in disgust. White? "I'll go with the gold but not the white," I say before recalibrating my paint nanites to run gold instead of my red highlights. I add a little gold at the ends of my fingers and tips of my wings but that was it.
"Beautiful," Windy says even though she's not completely happy.
Finally done, with plenty of time to get to the party, I walk out of the wash racks to the front door where Megatronus was waiting for me. I made my way down the stairs but paused when I caught sight of the gladiator. His silver armor was smooth and gleaming in the bright lights of my house as he looked at one of the paintings. He stood tall with a dignified air and only shifted my direction when he heard my pedes continue walking.
"Gold?" he questions, quirking an optic ridge playfully.
"You don't like it?" I chuckle, crossing my arms over my chest defiantly.
He gives a wolfish grin. "No, I just didn't want to have to work too hard to keep the perverts off you tonight," he compliments in his own way, making my faceplate heat in embarrassment.
"Just do your job and we'll be fine," I laugh brightly, patting him on his arm.
Stunning, she was absolutely stunning.
It was hard to watch her interact with all of these high-class mechs without getting jealous. The only thing that kept my spirits high was when the mechs would walk away and Fatale would lean over to make fun of them privately with me. She was speaking with a helicopter at the moment, listening to him prattle on and on about his fortune, his company, and about how he enjoyed boring things.
"Well, I must be moving on but thank you for coming tonight, Sliverblade," she smiles, allowing him to kiss her servo before departing. "I'm sure his propeller blades aren't the only slivers he has."
I can't help the rumbling laugh that escapes my vocalizer as she wipes the back of her servo off on her hip secretly. "He couldn't stop looking at your spark chamber the whole time," I lean down to whisper, earning a light smack from the femme.
She chuckles behind her servo just as a femme and mech walk up to her. They were both jets and had a striking resemblance to her so I guessed they were related somehow. "Grand-Creators," she smiles, wrapping her arms around the both of them individually. "Thank you for being here!"
"We wouldn't miss it for the universe, Fatale!" the femme dotes, touching the golden highlights on the femme's fingers. "What a lovely paintjob, sweetspark and…" she glances back at me with her bright blue optics. "Such a dashing young mech you have with you."
A self-satisfied smirk crosses over Fatale's faceplate and just as suddenly I understand why I was here. This wasn't just a bodyguard job. No, I was here to make a point. She had cleaned and buffed me so that she could take me out to a group of upper-class members of society where they would think I was one of them. Sure, there were distinct differences between us but I might just look like a high-up general from the military. Without the dents and the scratches, I looked almost like a Prime, tall and imposing.
"Grand-Creators, I'd like you to meet Megatronus. He is my escort tonight," she states, placing a light servo on my arm in a fond gesture.
The mech offers his servo in greeting and I don't hesitate to shake it firmly. "Nice to meet you both," I say, taking the femme's servo to kiss the top. It was barely a touch and I kept optic contact, unlike Sliverblade, making the older femme flush.
"Such a charming mech," the femme giggles, backing up to stand next to her bond-partner.
"If you'll excuse us, we need to head up to the front," Fatale smiles, kissing their cheeks before leading me to the head of the room.
I lean down as we walk to hiss into her audio receptor. "You little turbo-fox, you used me."
She chuckles softly. "I told you I brought you for a reason," is all she says before ascending the stage to stand at the microphone. "I'd like to welcome everyone to this banquet in honor of my beloved sponsors. I've brought you all here to introduce you to my special guest of the evening." Shifting to the side, she lets them see me. "You all have been introduced to Megatronus but I'd like to tell you a bit about him."
Her optics roam across the audience before she smirks. "Megatronus was born in the Pits," she finally states firmly. A soft gasp raises across the room and I tense slightly. "He cleans up nicely, doesn't he? Megatronus is a Cybertronain just like the rest of us. He is also one of the most intelligent mechs I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.
"My platform will be for change. I want to create a world where mechs and femmes like Megatronus can get the respect they deserve," her words were full of passion and I found myself moved by them. "And either way, whether you follow me or not, I will run on this platform because I believe in their freedom."
The uproar that followed my speech was something more than chaos. Protests were heard around the whole room but I was done. I was ready to head back to my home and let my words sink into the processors. I had a fortune in credits from my Creators so I could run on that alone, without any sponsors, but I knew there would be a few to join in. I hadn't told Megatronus yet, but I knew of his plans for rebellion. It wasn't hard to sense the tension in the Pits and I was all for the change.
I just wanted to try and change it without violence.
The house was dark and quiet when we got back. The staff was gone for the night, thankfully; I didn't want to have to deal with them. I was exhausted from smiling and making idiotic conversation with glitches all night. Megatronus had escorted me back to my house and opened the door for me, yet again.
I figured he would just leave but he followed me into the dark house. "You're more than welcome to stay the night, if you want," I offer, walking up to the second floor where I crash on the couch in exhaustion. "I never want to do that again." Silence. "Megatronus?"
Yelping, I nearly jump out of my paint when his servos pin me to the couch by my shoulders. "You used me tonight," he growls darkly, making my metal crawl. His passion was dripping off of him in heated waves and I couldn't help but stare in awe at the mixed emotions in his optics. "I am nothing like you or those glitches."
My spark pounds but I lean casually against the back of the couch, smirking up at him. "The problem is that we are all the same spark energy, Megatronus," I point out calmly, even though his looming mass was sending shocks of heat through my system. Was I turned on by his aggression? "That's the point I've been trying to get across to everyone. How can you lead a revolution for equality when you don't see us as equal?"
His optics shift from aggression to shock and then to contemplation. "If you wanted to use me, then you should have shown me as I am," he states firmly. "My imperfections make me who I am."
I reach up to touch his faceplate gently. "I know that, Megatronus," I whisper softly. "But they don't understand that yet. They will, in due time." His servos relax on my shoulders but he doesn't move. "I'm on your side, Megatronus. Please, trust me." His optics search mine before he nods his helm.
He shifts to sit down next to me on the couch, his large arm across the back behind my head. "Those suitors of yours were all glitches," he comments after a few moments of silence.
I cover my faceplate and groan in frustration. "Fragging glitches," I correct, taking comfort in the warmth of his body. "Me, me, me…you want to know about my summer home in Kaon? No, glitch, I don't!" Megatronus laughs at me as I go through my little rant before I drop my servos. "And that one medic! The audacity, I'm a medic so I know my anatomy, if you know what I mean. Yeah I'm sure you know all about your own spike and valve because you've obviously never touched anyone else's!"
Megatronus' chuckle dies away as I sit there with my optics closed, trying to ease my indignity. The impudence of some mechs. "You want a real mech?" Megatronus whispers and I snap my optics open when his derma brush across my audio receptors. How had he gotten so close without me knowing it? His arm wrapped around my shoulder to keep me in place when I twitch to get some distance. "Gladiators know how to treat a femme."
My body lit on fire so quickly, I grew dizzy. "I-Is that so?" I stammer as he reaches up to turn my faceplate toward him with a servo.
My next words are taken right out of my mouth as his derma cover mine quickly. His kiss literally takes my breath away as I am drowned in his passion. His glossa flicked across my derma and I didn't hesitate to open up for him as he presses me down to lie back on the couch gently. This was breaking so many rules but as his servos ran down my sides, I found that I couldn't care less. He was my equal, right? Then I should be able to kiss him.
He pulls away to allow me some air to cool my heated internals, my fans clicking on furiously. "Megatronus," I rasp in shock, staring up into his red optics. "That was…yeah, the best kiss I've ever had."
His optic ridge quirks in fond playfulness. "Not your first time?" he asks, fingers playing at the place where my sides meet my wings. It was distracting, really distracting. My words fail me so I just shake my helm weakly. "You're valve cap's not still on is it?"
I chuckle breathlessly, swatting at his servos that are running across my sensitive wings. "Primus, no, that was gone my freshman year of university," I reveal, very aware of his large form fitting snuggly between my legs. He waits, obviously expecting more. I flush in shame. "He was a grounder, it was a bad idea, okay?"
His servos run down my sides again, tracing the line of my wings faintly. I shudder uncontrollably as pleasure rushes through my sensors, igniting passions I never realized I had. Sure, I had interfaced before but I hadn't responded to him the way I was to Megatronus. Coherent thought went out the window as his derma captured mine again in a kiss that had my processor glitching.
Reaching up, I hooked my small servos in the armor of his shoulders and jerk him closer. He plants a servo into the couch above my helm but doesn't break out kiss; his other servo runs across my wings, teasing the edges. The heat in my panel accumulated until I was alerted that I was lubricating and ready for him. Primus alive, I couldn't help jerking my hips up to grind against him, aroused and desperate. I needed more, I truly didn't understand what I wanted, but I needed more of it.
"You're eager," he smirks, pulling away from the kiss to stare down at me. He loomed over me, shrouding my body in shadows as I reached up to touch his faceplate. I traced a scar that ran across his shoulder, feeling his massive body shudder in pleasure.
My spark throbbed as he leaned down to run his derma across my sensitive neck cables, dragging a low moan from my vocalizer. I felt my body thrumming with energy as I slipped my fingers into a crevice in his armor to search out delicate wires. His growl of pleasure vibrated through his body and into mine wherever we touched. "Ah," I gasp, arching into him as his denta nip at my spark chamber. "Megatronus, please."
He chuckles, a sound that rumbles through his entire frame. "Don't rush it, Fatale," he leers, dipping his glossa into my hip joint. The spark of pleasure has me writhing desperately but he wasn't done yet as he traveled lower and that talented glossa ran across the seam of my interface panel. I flushed in embarrassment as the panel opened on its own, my spike pressurizing without preamble. "Frag, you're sensitive."
I fight the urge to curl into myself in shame until his glossa is sliding across the tip of my spike. My vocalizer stutters with pleasure and I arch into him frantically. "Primus!" I grit, processor overcharged and incoherent.
My equalibrium complains as he makes a position change, flipping us over so that I was on top of his chest. I was backwards though, staring at his interface array as it clicked open. My optics widen at the sight of how large he is; oh frag, this was going to hurt. I was about to say something when I felt a slick glossa breach the rim of my valve, causing me to cry out in pleasure.
Needing something to distract me from the pleasure, I reach out to grip the base of his spike, dragging my servo up his length. He was proportional all over, it seemed. He growled at the feel of my servo and it encouraged me to lean down and run my glossa across the tip. His response was instananeous and I couldn't help the moan as his vocalization vibrated through my valve. I take his tip into my mouth to distract myself and suck, causing his grasp on my hips to tighten slightly.
Pleasure washes through me as his glossa flicks across some sensors on the inside of my valve. It was nothing compared to the feeling of one large digit pressing into my valve. I pull away from his spike to cry out, my shaky servo pumping his spike as I writhe in his grasp desperately. He quickly adds another finger, stretching me slowly. My overload is building, I can feel it, as he finally presses a third finger into my body, scissoring them gently.
"Primus, please, Megatronus!" I gasp even as he is pulling his fingers away and shifting me again. I find myself sitting in his lap, valve hovering over his hard spike.
His arms wrap around me, pulling me close as his spike rubs across the rim of my valve lightly. "It's going to hurt," he warns before pushing me down over his spike. I feel like I should have felt a lot more pain but my processor was so fuzzy with pleasure that I could only push further wantonly. "Frag, tight…" he growls as I push down aroudn him.
The stretch seemed almost impossible but as I seated myself completely in his lap, I moaned in pleasure. It felt amazing to be stretched so wide and my valve was already sensitized as it was so there wasn't an ounce of pain. I plant my servos on his shoulders and start to move, rocking my hips against his to create a friction that I had never experienced before. "Oh Primus," I groan, feeling his servos grab my hips to guide my motions.
The pace doesn't stay slow for very long and I find myself pushing against his hips as they thrust up to create a rhythm that fills the house with the sound of metal on metal. My fans were whirling in my audio receptors but I couldn't stop; I was so desperate for my overload that I just kept going. Megatronus growls darkly, leaning down to bite down on my neck cables as I dig my sharp fingers into his shoulder, scratching across his fresh buff job.
Neither of us cared as we worked toward our overload. It was close, I could taste the energy on my glossa, as I pushed harder. My motions became jerked and frenzied as I took in a gasp of air. Megatronus' servos jerked me down for one last thrust, burying himself deep in my valve, before I screamed in abandon, my overload crashing across me harshly. He gave his own grunt before I felt his hot transfluid filling my valve roughly.
I collapse against his chest, dragging in ragged breath after ragged breath to cool my systems back down to normal. His arms stay wrapped around me as my processor starts to shut down. I needed recharge badly so I didn't fight the urge as he pulled out of my valve. My panel clicked shut and I closed my optics to drift into recharge.
It was the happiest I can ever remember being. I couldn't help but smile every time she walked into the coliseum; I couldn't help but fight harder to make sure that I would be able to see her again. It was hard to admit that I might be falling for her head over spark but it was an instant reaction every time I saw her. Her quick wit never failed to make me chuckle and her dry sense of humor matched my own perfectly.
I truly thought we would change the world together.
She started heavy into the campaign, debating with upper-class mechs and femmes for the rights of the Pit dwellers. I delved into my own plans with Soundwave and with her funding, we were able to create an underground rebellion. She hoped to create the change without violence but I wanted to be positive that I had a backup plan, should hers fail.
"It will take a while, Megatronus, but change will happen, trust me," she would say during our many conversations on the topic.
She knew that I thought her passive way of fighting was useless and I understood that this was her only hope. I wouldn't mind fighting a war but she wanted to try the peaceful way first. I knew it would end in war; I told her a thousand times that it would end in violence. The oppressive high-class wouldn't give up their power and allow some of that power to our kind. They would never give up their greed.
I watched from behind as she stood in front of a group that faithful day. It was her last debate before the election and she was, surprisingly, a forerunner. She had enough backing to be in the final run and this was her last attempt at catching those last few votes. Her speech was passionate and moving but I knew it was useless. She wasn't going to change people with words.
"One of the earliest Primes used to say that freedom is the right of all sentient beings! Who are we to say who is high or low-class?" she asks, pounding her fist on the podium. Her voice was powerful and I smirked at the pure charisma flowing from her. She was, if nothing else, passionate. "Equality and freedom are a right to us not just to a select—"
The crowd gasped as a shot rang out. My body moved before I could fully grasp what was happening but it was too late. I saw the laser come out her back before she was falling. I'm not sure if I shouted something as I caught her in my arms, energon splattering the ground under us. "I need a Medic!" I roar, cradling her fragile body in my arms. "Fatale, hold on."
Her form was shuddering uncontrollably as I held her close. Her servo grabbed my arm, catching my attention even as the crowd was delving into chaos. "Megatronus," she rasps, smiling up at me through her pain. "You were right."
"Shut up, Fatale," I order weakly, looking around for a Medic. I saw a flash of red and white just as a bulky mech crouched down next to us.
"Give her to me," he states in a voice that leaves no room for question. "You're going to be okay, Fatale."
She chuckles but it sounds painful even to me. "Don't lie to him, Doctor," she whispers, staring up at me sadly. "Only through violence, it seems, can change happen."
"Shut up," I whisper, stroking her helm gently. I could see the wound had struck her spark, the energy was seeping out even as the medic worked to fix it furiously. "Just shut up."
Her servo touches my faceplate, pulling me down to kiss me. "I love you, Megatronus," she utters weakly. "Please, you deserve freedom. Don't stop fighting."
"I love you too, Fatale," I whisper softly before I watch her optics flutter out.
There was nothing the medic could do. She was gone. The only femme I had ever cared about was gone and with it, my hope for a peaceful change. The world wasn't going to change through peaceful debates and conversations over high-grade. What we needed was a sudden and dramatic change in affect and as I flew back to the Pit, I knew that it had to happen now.
The End